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[bonefall]

i found a god awful doc about this one person (who, too, is a god awful being) trying to reason why mudClaw would be a bad leader. I'ma try to find the doc but meanwhile I'll submit this because someone could have the link, I'll need your honest thought about it bcs why are we defending oneWhiker now

Anon, buddy, I'm gonna have to sit you down and gently discourage you from casually calling random human people "god awful beings" in my inbox like this. Not when you're just talking about relatively basic media analysis. That isn't ok or normal.

I hope that when I speak harshly, it's coming from a place of condemning hurtful actions and the tangible harm that they cause. I don't appreciate people trying to get me to directly beef with other people directly by requesting I break down their individual posts or analysis documents (when I ask for people to share links, it's so I can see and prepare to counter the ideas because they usually "float downstream" if they get popular); but in a second ask, you linked this document and there's nothing harmful in it. In fact, it's got a far more neutral tone than I'd take if I was writing an analysis about Mudclaw.

If you couldn't tell the difference between a document like this and one that contains active abuse apologia rhetoric, I would be filled with concern. But I don't think you read it. I think you maybe skimmed it and stopped reading, or just heard the title.

Because this document literally says this;

and your takeaway, something you felt so strongly about that you came to me hoping I'd validate it, was "Why Are We Defending Onewhisker Now."

Art is a tool we can use to explore our own biases, and teach us something about ourselves. That overwhelming sense of anger and disgust that you probably felt when you saw "Mudclaw Would Be A Bad Leader" made you jump to an emotional conclusion and you assumed something that was not said. I know the feeling. You might have had a reactionary impulse.

You are not a bad person for doing that-- you're human. You can grow.

Why did it upset you this much, though? Is there something very personal about this that set you off? ...are you spending a lot of time in spaces online that keep you angry? These are questions for you to reflect with.

I do not know the owner of this document or "what they've done," if anything, so I will not link it, because their Discord is at the bottom of the doc. If they are truly a "god awful being", please do not engage, just block and move on. Nothing is accomplished by following around 'A Bad Guy' and boosting their cat takes.

But something VERY bad WOULD be accomplished if I indulged an anon for a situation I know nothing about and unwittingly became part of a harassment campaign. How do I know that you've got good intentions?

I usually just delete unsolicited links to docs and videos that are 'fightbaiting' like this-- trying to get me to beef publicly with a 3rd person. But I've seen more of these than usual lately so I would like to try and cool it down.

[writingandmore]

Hi!!! May I get a HP, Star Wars, Voltron, and Disney matchup?

𝗕𝗔𝗦𝗜𝗖𝗦 + 𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘

19, Libra, Neutral Good, enneagram is 4w5, muggleborn Ravenclaw (with Gryffindor tendencies), and my patronus spirit is Hummingbird. Biromantic Pansexual Genderfluid woman using pronouns of She/Her or He/Him. Cherubic-like face, with short height (5'1") plus sized Southeast Asian woman with Spanish descent that has chic messy/wavy brunette medium hair that reaches to my shoulder, oriental skin, slightly upturned eyes, small lashes, chocolate brown irises, cute flat nose, heart shaped face, full cheeks, cupid's bow lips, a small beauty mark on the forehead, and naturally straight teeth with tiny gap in front (just imagine that it's a mixture of Marinette from 𝗠𝗶𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘂𝗹𝗼𝘂𝘀 𝗟𝗮𝗱𝘆𝗯𝘂𝗴, Musa from 𝗪𝗶𝗻𝘅 𝗖𝗹𝘂𝗯, and Alexandra Trese from 𝗧𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲---cause' my friend told me that I kinda look like them). My sense of fashion is in between emo and boyish plus korean glam, I sometimes let my hair down or styled like Lara Croft reboot.

𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬

Distant, quiet, and timid at first making people thought I'm a demure, modest, and self-effacing that looks "immaculate" or "one of a kind" (due to my protective mom, a reason why I've never been in a relationship) but the truth is, dunno how to initiate a conversation, but a total opposite if I open up---friendly, ambivert, witty, laughing loudly on a daily basis---like my happiness is too shallow, super talkative, eats a lot (yeah I can finish a huge slice of cake or a meal in one sitting), awkward, daydreamer (I got embarrassed from knocking at the door even I'm inside the classroom 😂), EXTREMELY CLUMSY (mostly gets bruises from hitting, bumping my head somewhere, walking into something on my way, and being careless to my belongings), secretly likes affection, easily overwhelmed, prone to melt over wholesomeness, flusters on compliments, lightly blushes on cheesy banters, eager to share what I know (especially about Catholic Church---my past teacher joked that I'll become a saint because of it 🤣), oftenly speaks full of sarcasm with a lowkey crackhead energy citing meme references, and talented girl who can be your no.1 supporter and unashamed to be true to myself but can be awkward to strangers. In terms of leadership, I only educate and guide than being a prefect (I might take the role seriously), will lift my group when there's lacking/incompleteness. About doing projects in school, I become too extra and prepared for efforts, but I'll forget the process in the end.

The extent, I'm expressive, warm-hearted, willig to help, kind, intelligent, supportive, nice, creative, enthusiastic, laid-back, determined, tough, competitive, and feisty outside, but a real softie that can be childish and dramatic that cries so easily (but will enlightened real quick by smallest things that makes me smile) filled with doubts, frustrations, and insecurities with fear of failure that pushes off the limits to to please everyone because they might get dissappointed from expectations---I simply can't stop proving myself too much because I'm a survivor of bullying. But I still managed to be stronger than ever after I stumbled, even it's a slow burn process. I can be blunt, intimidating, harsh, and a douchebag if I receive ends or I got interrupted while doing something. Immature, headstrong, perfectionist, demanding, hesitant, jumpy, forgetful, overthinker, quick-tempered, sensitive, and anxious (no joke, my nervousness makes me think worse scenario will arrive). Though can be procrastinator and arrogant, I raised as a religious 𝖺𝗇𝖽 diplomatic youth, willing to fight what I believe (including my dreams and what's important to me) and what is right. In addition, I have a habit of staying up late and doing sign of the cross to ease nervousness.

Rowdy and feeling-brokenhearted and bitter friend in the group who fangirl a lot, swears like sailor, will call out on people that we loathe, will make fun of your stupidity (in a good way) before helping, and bring gossips, but a hopeless romantic and cheeky (makes banter with sarcasms or pick up lines as an endearment, but gets annoyed if I received sappy or offensive one), Still generous and concerned person in a subtle and different way.

𝗛𝗢𝗕𝗕𝗜𝗘𝗦

My hobbies are singing, drawing, roleplaying, listening to music, chatting/browsing on social media, conceptualizing, writing, and reading some stuffs. I'll include making corniest jokes/puns, sleeping, and dancing when nobody's around or walking like a model if I feel so bold (even I'm terrible at both xD). I also used to learn Italian language a bit.

𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘𝗦

Loves kittens, milk tea, singing at the karaoke, cartoons, iced coffee, memes, cute things, watching YouTube videos (mostly pageants, ASMR, edit audios, and mukbangs), also enjoys playing games on my sister's PSP. Sucker for arts, choir, poetry, night sky, makeup, fun/deep/dumb conversations, Christianity, documentaries (about saints, real crime stories, and inspirational people), reading interesting stuffs, talking about social issues, and creative writing, chilling both indoors and outdoors. Beside that, my music taste are like late 90s-2000s songs (mostly rock, pop, and country) sometimes Catholic songs, kpop and ppop, chocoholic, and a sweetooth as well.

𝗗𝗜𝗦𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘𝗦

Things that I hate are stereotyping, HUGE creepy crawlies (spiders, toads, snakes, and cockroaches), firecracker sounds, thunder and lightning, being left out, loneliness, heart break, blackout, and judgemental people. If I found out that someone hates or backstabbing or being rude to me, I won't hesitate to throw offensive criticisms, leaving them with a "I don't give a f" attitude. One random fact about me is, I 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 vent out EVERYTHING I despise in my entire existence---from bad soap operas to toxicity, worse scenarios in real life, and how terrible is my love life from unrequited feelings that I got, because it's a big deal for me, and I consider forcing me to do what I'm not into and manipulating me as my major pet peeves.

𝗧𝗥𝗜𝗚𝗚𝗘𝗥𝗦

In terms of triggers...I only have two which are ta𝖨king about divorce/annullment/separation because I came from a generational broken family (it sucks that some people I knew assumed that the reason why I'm overly unaware that someone is interested in me in secret, is I have "high standards" looking for a partner, but the truth is I'm strict and I have a personal preferences...I know my worth and I don't want settle for less!) and religion/beliefs discrimination, cause' there are reasonings that doesn't makes sense because some, sounds too hypocritical, like as if you're a morally good person.

𝗥𝗢𝗠𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘 + 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 𝗟𝗔𝗡𝗚𝗨𝗔𝗚𝗘𝗦

My love languages are quality time and gift giving, but I actually swoon over physical touch (especially cuddles and cute kisses) and words of affirmation when it comes to having a partner, though I get attracted so easily, matured but can be a goofy person who's nice, friendly, kind-hearted, loving, faithful, and excels in academics is my cup of tea. Whenever I have a real life crush (which is rare), I act the same but deep inside, my heart is about to explode and will eventually share to my trustful friends how I highly admire that person, however if they spilled the beans out, I'll obviously deny it and will cry if they like someone else, it will take some time for me to move on, now I don't care for them anymore.

Best Friends to Lovers is my ideal trope because I find it very cute since you already knew each other before dating (which happened to my 2nd cousin, she married her best friend!)---perfect balance for romance, laughters, comfort, and tears when it comes to sharing your vibes, being there through thick and thin, safe with embraces, and helping each other to grow.

𝗧𝗥𝗜𝗩𝗜𝗔𝗦

My best assets are smile, eyes, personality, singing voice, artistic skills, writings, intelligence, oratorical skills and I have potential in hosting...so I can consider myself as a singer, artist, orator, speaker, and a top student who's a former active campus ministry member with three roles (choir leader, psalm singer, and reader).

May sounds different but I'm passionate for helping people through my talents and sharing my story to inspire everyone. I may look selfish, but I have a different way on how I show that I actually care also I have a biased sentimental value

Currently a college freshman, learning how to cook. I have so many interests, to the point I don't know what I'm into because of my dreams to become a popular Filipino YouTuber, a novelist, and being part of a successful chorale competing internationally...I also consider joining pageants at school too once the pandemic ends, but maybe.

HP: Remus!

- Remus is also quiet and a bit reserved when he's not in a familiar situation, so your own first impression on him would be a good one, as you'd seem similar to his own personality. He's sweet and is able to start up a conversation if he notices the other person is having a hard time doing so, so hopefully he'd be able to bring out your more extroverted and friendly self after a while so he can be around the more open you. He wouldn't mind you being a bit awkward-he's very much the same way-honestly, the comradery that would come from that would be more positive than anything else. He loves sharing knowledge and learning about new things, so your eagerness to talk about what you know would work really well also! He does a lot better when he knows someone has his back too, so your extra supportive nature would endear him to you as well.

SW: Han!

- Your nicer and more helpful personality would balance out Han's more standoffish vibes when first meeting. You might get on his nerves a bit first, but you'd quickly grown on him and, in turn, make him a bit of a better person. Your ability to be blunt and a bit harsh would serve you well if you ever needed to stand your ground on an issue that two of you have, as he can be quite stubborn.

VLD: Lance!

- Lance can be a bit immature from time to time as well, especially when it comes to trying to be funny or cheering up those around him-he's also headstrong and typically firm in what he wants to do, so your own determined personality would attract him to you a lot as well. He often puts off things he needs to do if they make him anxious too, but if you both recognize that you share that problem, helping each other might be a good solution!

Disney: Flynn!

- Flynn is quite a sarcastic and teasing person, so your own humor would match well with his. He's also quite a hopeless romantic as well, even though he's certainly not one to admit that right off the bat. He enjoys singing, and as he gets closer to someone he feels more comfortable doing so in front of them, so a partner he's been with for a long time would get to see him be more and more open with it. That also applies to activities like dancing.

[libsterslobsters]

What Is And What Should Never Be Pt. 2

Summary: After the reader reveals the reason for her odd behavior, a lot of changes take place. How will she and Bucky adjust to the newest development in their always complicated life together?

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x fem!enhanced! Reader

(Reader can see shards of the future at random, understand every language, and process information abnormally quickly as well as being a super soldier)

Warnings: light angst, fluff, light smut, mentions of vomiting, pregnancy

*************************************************

“I’m happy about this.” The words are murmured against her shoulder. It’s a little ridiculous; they’re two full-grown adults who’ve been together for years, not teenagers in the first blush of romance. And yet, he’s still kneeling next to her and she’s working her fingers through his hair like this is a proposal.

“Me too.” She finally finds her voice, but it’s shaky, teary. “I’m also scared, Buck.” She can see shards of the future, for pete’s sake! That should give her a head’s up about life’s events, and yet somehow, she never imagined them here. She’s been running since the first time she realized those “daydreams” of hers come true. And when she met him, well, kids seemed like the last thing their lives would have room for. At this point, maybe she should just expect the unexpected.

“Me too.” At least she’s not the only who’s unsure of how to proceed.

Eventually she has to end the moment and return to the real world. The real world where kitchens don’t clean themselves. Placing one last peck on his forehead, she nudges him out of the way with her knee. It’s comical, the mild pout that settles on his lips as his eyebrows shoot up.

“Huh?”

“The dishes. We should probably clear them away, or else they’ll be a bitch to wash tomorrow morning.”

“Language, Doll.” Did he really just..? His right hand which, somehow, is still resting on her waistline gives her middle a gentle pat. “Can’t have the baby coming out swearing like a sailor.”

She rolls her eyes.

“Bucky, the baby doesn’t even have ears yet.” At least, she doesn’t think so. She really needs to do some research.

“No?” The smirk on his face clues her in that a (probably terrible) joke is about to be made. “Then why don’t you go on up to bed? You need your rest so you can get a head start on making them. I’ll handle the dishes and join you in a little while.” She’s right; it’s terrible. But she’s not going to protest if he wants to clean up.

“Alright.” While he’s doing that, she’s going to google which week of pregnancy babies develop ears. And maybe change into something more comfortable.

In the confines of their bedroom, she considers the delicate nightgowns and lacy underthings she has tucked away from special occasions (or really any time one of them needs cheering up), but ultimately doesn’t like the look of any of them. Not tonight. Not after the distance that’s been between them for the past week, where she was so at war with herself that every time he touched her, it sent a stab of panic and guilt through her heart. No, this is a return to normal, reassuring themselves that they’re still okay, it’s just another bend in the road. After all, she thinks to herself as she climbs into bed and arranges the sheets to rest over her body beguilingly (a small part of her doesn’t want to just lie there naked in case he’s somehow disgusted by her now, although she knows it’s a foolish thought), she won’t look like this for much longer, so she may as well make the most of it.

Any concern is erased when he walks through the bedroom door and immediately freezes, carefully eyeing his way down her partially hidden body from head to toe like so many times before.

“I really did mean just rest, you know.” All the while, he’s tugging his shirt over his head.

“I know.” She nods, a slight smile on her face. “But it’s only a little after seven. There’s still plenty of time to rest later.”

He settles on the mattress next to her, leaning so close that she can feel his shallow breaths on her cheek.

“Are you sure?” It’s sweet, and she does appreciate the consideration, but it’s been long enough, and she’s almost certain he needs this as much as she does.

“Of course I’m sure.”

It’s gentler than usual, more whispered, “I love you’s”, soft gasps and deeper moans. Almost as if they’re rediscovering each other, both trying their damnedest to push every last hot spot that they’ve discovered over the years. This isn’t just sex (not that there’s anything “just” about anytime they’re together), but a way of reminding each other, “You’re safe. I know you, and you know me. You’re cherished. I’m not going anywhere.”

Afterwards, in the quiet of the afterglow, their bodies still pressed together with his chest to her back, he asks,

“When did you start to think-”

She doesn’t wait for him to finish. It’s obvious what he’s referring to.

“The food poisoning.” Which in hindsight, she feels pretty stupid for even considering. “I really did believe I’d eaten something bad-” It’s subtle, so subtle you might miss it, but she catches the quiet sigh of relief he lets out knowing that their promises hold true, they’re still completely honest with each other. “-until I remembered that I haven’t so much as had the sniffles since Nat put the needle in my arm.” It’s been years, but she still sometimes forgets that she doesn’t have to worry about things like the flu or her shopping bag being too heavy anymore.

“And, when it wasn’t better the next day…” She trails off, absentmindedly playing with his hand where he’s still got his arm thrown over her waist.

“I thought that was kinda weird too.” He chuckles quietly. “Now I really wish I’d made you stay home that day so we could’ve figured it out together.”

She doubts that either of them would have immediately jumped to the conclusion that she’s pregnant (they take precautions, even if those precautions aren’t fool-proof), but decides to go with the lighter option and concentrate on-

“Make me?” She cranes her neck to see his face. “And how were you planning to do that? Tie me to the bedposts?” His lips quirk up into a smirk.

“Now there’s an idea.”

“Watch it, Barnes.”

___________________________________________________________________________________

Bucky’s a light sleeper, so he wonders how he missed it before. But now that he knows it’s coming, he’s immediately awake when she slips out of bed and bolts toward the bathroom. It appears that super serum is powerless against morning sickness.

It’s a few minutes before she’s in any position to speak, much less sit up from her crouch over the toilet bowl, and in that time, he’s swept her hair up out of the way and started rubbing gently between her shoulder blades. When the sickness finally does ease up that she can lean back against him, he asks,

“Is this why you’ve been getting up before me?” He may not have heard her, but when his alarm went off, there was no way he could miss her side of the bed being empty and cold.

She groans quietly. “What do you think?”

He thinks she looks exhausted and so very small, curled in on herself on the cold bathroom tiles. With all the things he’s done in his life, guilt’s a familiar face, but it’s never been as heavy as it is now, seeing her suffer. It’s just part of the process, he knows that. It may not have been the topic of polite conversation back in his youth, but it still cropped up when mothers and grandmothers came together and talked. She’ll feel better eventually, but for now…

“I think I’m gonna read the room and shut up.”

She laughs tiredly. “Good answer.”

Several more minutes tick by before she tells him that she thinks it’s over for now. He really wishes she’d let him carry her back to bed, but when he suggests it, she rolls her eyes and teasingly calls him a mother hen. Still, once she’s safely tucked back under the covers, he goes downstairs in search of crackers and a glass of water. His phone is still on the nightstand charging, so he can’t do a quick search of what else is good for nausea, but decides to throw in some dry toast as well.

By the time he’s back upstairs with his tray of home remedies, she’s asleep again. A huge part of him wants to just let her rest, but he knows he should probably get her to choke something down.

“Come on, Doll. Wake up for me.” She’s not as light of a sleeper as him, but the words in combination with him brushing back her hair make those delicate eyelids flutter.

“Wha-”

“Let’s get some food in you, and then I’ll let you go back to sleep. Promise.”

She doesn’t look too happy about it. In fact, her breathing is growing heavy again. She’s going back under.

“Sweetheart, please. You need to at least have some water. If you’re dehydrated, it’s not good for you or the baby.” That seems to be the magic word. With a groan, she sits up, still rubbing lightly at her eyes.

“I forgot…” She mumbles as she accepts the glass of water and slowly begins to drink. She forgot…? Oh. Well, she’s only known for a little while, and frankly, he’s still trying to wrap his head around it.

His wife is pregnant. That’s not a phrase he ever thought would apply to him (correction, he mentally amends; he used to hope for that one day, but after mad scientists experiment on you, well, an apple pie life seems unlikely). In a few months, there’s going to be another person living with them. One made out of them both, who’ll rely on them for safety, security, and love. She’s up to it, he’s absolutely sure. But him? He’s got a lot of baggage. He’s killed people. He’s missing a fucking arm, for goodness’ sake! How could he ever-

“You’ll be a good dad. You know that, right?”

She’s slurring a little, still half-asleep, and he’s a tiny bit concerned she’s going to go under and choke on that cracker she’s nibbling at. Still, she’s looking him square in the eyes, a small smile on her face. Maybe she saw a glance of the future which showed her what he’s thinking. Maybe she just knows him that well. Either way, he’s not sure of it, but-

“I know you’ll show me how.” She’s almost back under, so he brushes a few stray crumbs from her lips with is thumb and tucks the covers back around her shoulders. “And so will she.”

“She?” Her eyes are closed even as she asks. “You think it’s a girl?”

He’s not sure why he thinks that, or more, why he feels it, but he does.

“Yeah, Doll.” With a quick kiss to her forehead, he collects the now empty glass and starts towards the door. “I think it’s a girl.”

___________________________________________________________________________________

“Doll, aren’t you supposed to see a doctor at some point?” So close. She was so close to falling asleep (which seems to be all she wants to do lately) after marking the last paper in preparation for Monday morning. Still, it’s a valid question, and one she’s thought about herself.

“At some point, but you’re not supposed to go in until the eight week mark.” At least, if google is indeed correct. He nods and goes back to half-heartedly staring at the tv show in front of them.

“When is that, by the way?” She opens her mouth to tell him it’s not for a while, but then she realizes that… oh boy.

“Um…” When was the last time she had her period? It’s not like she keeps up with it. They weren’t trying to have a baby, and they were reasonably safe (in hindsight, maybe not as safe as they thought), so it didn’t seem necessary. He’s staring at her intently, expression growing more and more concerned with every second she doesn’t answer, so finally, she has to admit-

“I don’t really know. Do you have any idea?” She’s expecting the answer even before he says it.

“Not really.” 0 for 2. That sounds about right.

“Shit.”

“Shit.”

For a brief, hysterical moment, she thinks about scolding him for his language since he did it to her earlier, but that thought gives way to the more pressing matter: how pregnant is she? Not that there’s varying degrees. Knocked up is knocked up, and it’s pretty damn clear she is.

He’s the first to recover. “Okay. Let’s count.” Counting. Something she can do.

“Not in the last twenty-eight days, or else the test wouldn’t have worked…”

They spend a solid ten minutes trying to figure it out, but neither of them can narrow it down any further.

“We’re idiots!” She’s nearly shouting out of frustration with herself and whoever up there has it out for them. Seriously, just this once, couldn’t things be easy? “We’re actual idiots!”

“That’s a little harsh, don’t you think?” The pressure of his hand around hers calms her just a tiny bit.

“Okay.” She nods. “Not idiots, but we do have crappy memories.”

He offers her a crooked smile. “Hey, I’m over a hundred years old. My memory’s supposed to be shot. What’s your excuse, Pretty Young Thing?”

“Baby Brain.” Is that even a thing this early on? Then again, is she early on? She has to be, right? Otherwise the morning sickness would be over. And she’s not showing.

He chuckles. “You’re gonna be using that one a lot, aren’t you?”

The layers of stress are beginning to melt away. She nods.

“You have to admit, as far as excuses go, it’s a pretty solid one.”

Ultimately, she decides it’s best to make the call Monday morning, but schedule it for at least another week out just to be sure. They don’t want to go in and be lectured for jumping the gun, after all.

___________________________________________________________________________________

“Can you just confirm your name and date of birth for me?” That has to be the sixth time she’s been asked that since they walked into the OB-GYN’s office. He really would have thought they’d have it down by now. Still, she recites off the information from her place on the exam table.

“Great.” The technician smiles brightly. “Now, if you can lift up your shirt and roll down your pants, we’ll start the ultrasound. This is just to give us a better estimate on your due date and make sure everything’s looking good with baby, alright?” She must say something in response, but Bucky can’t hear anything over the blood rushing in his ears. This is it. They’re about to actually see their baby for the first time and hear the heartbeat. He’s not much for prayer, but he silently pleads with whoever might be listening that she’s fine, she’s healthy.

The screen is gray and grainy for the most part. So far, it doesn’t look like much. “Fluid looks good. Placenta’s where it should be, and-”

Does the tech have to push down that hard? Can’t he be a little more gentle? Surely it’s not necessary to use that much force when you’re trying to get a read on-

“-there’s your baby.” His mind immediately empties, instead focusing on the blurry image on the screen.

It’s a blob, and if he’s being honest, kind of looks like a tadpole that’s just grown arms and legs. The head is huge, and at the center is a flickering light.

“That’s the heartbeat. Would you like to hear it?” Again, she must say something, because an impossibly fast rhythm fills the room. There’s actually a little person in there. How can something so delicate with a heartbeat like the beat of hummingbird wings, already have such a huge place in his heart? How is it possible that he suddenly can't imagine life without that brightly flashing blob currently growing in his wife's womb?

He’s in a bit of a daze throughout the following appointment and exam. The doctor informs them that they're at 9 weeks and 5 days and gives them a predicted due date. After a far too invasive physical exam (at least to his mind, but she doesn't seem to think a thing about it(, they're given an appointment a month out, a prescription for prenatal vitamins, and sent on their way.

Once they’re in the car, a stack of brochures clutched in his hand and an envelope full of pictures in hers, he finally musters up the courage to speak.

"Looks like we really did it this time, Doll. She’s actually in there."

"Hey, at least it's not twins." She smiles as she speaks, but it’s a little uncertain. “Are you sure you're okay with this, Bucky?”

He thinks about telling her how completely in awe he is that he had anything to do with making something so tiny and perfect, how he's overwhelmingly in love with someone he's never met, not to mention how he's that much more in love with her, and he didn't think that was possible, but for now, he goes with-

“Yeah. I’m okay with it.”

Closing the gap between them, he presses their lips together in a kiss. This is just another bend in a long, winding road, but he has a feeling it’s the best one yet.

[belle-keys]

Incoherent thoughts about A Court of Silver Flames (2021) by SJM

Do not expect this to be a critical, unbiased review at all. Eet just ease what eet ease. Spoilers ahead laddies. 

*unwanted preface* 

Okay, so like, you know those things that are neither objectively perfect nor unproblematic yet you love them and are attached to them anyway? Yeah, this is me with SJM’s writing. See, I been with Sarah and Throne of Glass since March of 2015 and with ACOTAR since the summer of 2015 when I was 13 and honestly, ACOTAR in particular occupied a decent portion of my formative teen years. Eventually, when I was about 16 I sort of ended up getting distracted from YA books and went into my thot and kpop era. A main reason for this is that I found ACOFAS particularly disenchanting. This ain’t about that book (sigh) but let’s just say as much as I was still attached to and in love with the ACOTAR world, I was still able to get very annoyed by the decreased quality of the writing and also the evident projecting Sarah was doing onto Feyre with regards to her own life and experiences (ahem). No, the lack of developed POC in the book had nothing to do with it ironically. 

So basically, since the spring of 2018 I haven’t read any SJM yet I never fell out of love with the books either. I’ve sworn off TOG after whatever the hell EOS was, but ACOTAR was always more special and close to my heart by tenfold, honestly. See, the best day of my 2016 was the day I found out ACOTAR was getting the extra 3 novels and 2 novellas. ACOFAS was a dumpster fire but I was actually surprised to really, really enjoy A Court of Silver Flames while it obviously has a couple (multiple) sus facets to it. The susness aside, I thoroughly felt at home reading Nesta’s book despite how irrational that might sound. No, I’m not here to say the book was objectively good but I’m here to say I still enjoyed it despite my love-hate relationship with SJM and her writing. :( :( :( 

That being said imma still roast tf out of a couple aspects of it. :)

*the susness*

Aight wbk that SJM like, projects a lot onto feyrhys right. I’m not even gonna deny it. Like as horrible as it sounds, when feyrhys were, like, struggling as a couple and shit in ACOMAF, that’s when I loved them the most but then the shitstorm that was ACOWAR hit and they couldn’t go without boning every two seconds or calling each other mates and shit and basically every character in the book started kissing their asses (except Nesta) to the point where they were infallibly good and powerful and everyone’s heads were lodged up their asses... I got PISSED OFF then, right.

Now, in ACOSF (is that correct?), they were side characters and, gratefully, that romance between them was toned down. But here are some things concerning feyrhys and the Court of Dreams that irked tf out of me, and the implications that they had for Nesta (who is perhaps one of the baddest bitches ever) had me feeling homicidal towards the IC:

Every single time Nesta said shit about Rhys and then Cassian got mad I wanted to SCREAM like yooo let her roast tf out of him like yeah I get Rhys lowkey did a lot for her both directly and indirectly but cmoooooon not everyone needs to be riding his dick like the man HATED Nesta from the get-go. I loved the idea that someone in the book lowkey abhors Rhys just for the TEA it gave me. Like yeah, okay Cassian, I get that he’s your bro but he can SUCK NESTA’S DICK also like my girl is a DEATH GOD.

Here me out: the Inner Circle completely dehumanized Nesta, they completely disregarded her personal autonomy and caged her in which is ironically the very behavior that was villainized when Tamlin did it to Feyre. First of all they restricted her movement, they made decisions FOR her, they withheld from her knowledge about her own powers, they decided what’s best for her and acted like she was a rabid dog the entire time. Only Cassian and Azriel seem more blameless in this regard, but the level of scorn and abohorence and moralizing Feyre, Elain, Rhys, Amren and Mor did towards Nes made my blood boil. At the end of the day, the Inner Circle did the VERY THING they hated being done to Feyre. Whatever happened to the freedom they professed? The autonomy they decided all members of their court deserved? That was all bullshit, or was this switch-up SJM’s way of creating justifiable conflict between Nesta and the Inner Circle... either way, there was no closure about this and the way they dictated Nesta’s behavior whilst completely mistreating her imo.

More on Nesta’s treatment - okay listen the way the narrative had every character acting like Nesta was fricking scum and for WHAT??? Okay, she didn’t hunt when Feyre and they were poor, she was bitchy, she hates the Fae... okay, why is Nesta still being punished for her mistakes like this by the Court? Does their forgiveness only apply to those in their clique? They’re acting like her drinking and sleeping around and her general bitchy behavior is sooooo toxic when they ALL coped with their respective trauma in questionable ways in their centuries of living. And the narrative never condemned them for this behavior either... like cmon they had an “intervention” about Nesta like if she needed to reach a certain moral standing to be lovable or something. Seems to me that only Cassian was willing to love her, bruises and all... “There’s nothing broken to be fixed. You are helping yourself. Healing the parts of you that hurt too much - and perhaps hurt others too”. But as beautiful as that it, it seems the IC see Nesta’s healing as her “redemption arc” when I never saw her as a villain or monster to begin with. They acted like she had to become deserving of their acceptance. Bullshit.

No cus more on this... Cassian is the only person who defended Nesta, the only person that wanted to help her heal and grow when everyone else wanted to fix her. He was the only person who was kind to her from the original trilogy (i.e. not counting Emerie and Gwyn). He stood up for her and I’ll gush about them in the next section, but the dynamic between Nesta and the IC was the least enjoyable aspect of the book for me. It was clear SJM wanted to spur Nesta towards the path to healing yet only figured out how to do so whilst only keeping feyrhys as the nucleus of this arc, and so she had them force Nesta into her “special journey” (because she loves them so much, cus they’re sooooo perfect right *rolls eye*), yet, the narrative didn’t quite condemn them for their toxicity towards Nesta at ALL, even towards the end. The good thing is that Nesta did not become an ass-kisser throughout the story and laud them for “helping her��� every waking second. Only Cassian didn’t shun her for her inner negativity but embraced her. And Az was pretty cool too, can’t hate him.

Ahem, the ending: okay, I’m not even capping, but I hated that Nesta lost her power for feyrhys. I get that she genuinely did it out of love and shit and I’m not even gonna lie, the thought of feyrhys dying had me on the verge of tears cus as much as I hate them, I also love those bitches. Yet, the culmination of Nesta’s power was, what?, to save feyrhys. This way, the narrative put Feyre at the center of Nesta’s narrative towards the end. And Nesta lost that Death God power that she basically EARNED in that Cauldron. This is the biggest flaw of the story. She fought against her own power to give it up... for Feyre. Like??? What??? Why was that baby arc even necessary????? Why was Nesta giving up her power necessary to fulfil her healing arc which was the POINT of the book??? Like what?????? It left a sour taste in my mouth. No- an abhorrent acidic bitter taste in my mouth. 

Elain. I CANNOT STAND THIS GIRL. She completely abandoned Nesta and for WHAT??? For Feyre??? This only served to reiterate from the narrative’s POV that Nesta was scum and again, idk WHY. And also, why tf does this girl mistreat Lucien like this??? LUCIEN AKA MY FAVORITE CHARACTER???

I just don’t get how the narrative reiterated that Tamlin is the worst of the worst when you got Rhys hiding shit from Feyre, hiding knowledge of Nesta’s power from Nesta, all of that. Like, was the entire point of ACOMAF not for Feyre to embrace her power and become her best self? Rhys never for one second tolerated withholding Feyre’s power from her. So why tf does this apply to Nesta? Cus she’s unhealthy? Okay... so what??? Why villainize her like this and imply she’s undeserving of her power and a waste of life??? I’M LAUGHING SO HARD RN LIKE WHERE DID THIS EVEN COME FROM??? What did my girl do that was sooooo bad that yall needed to treat her like this. Tell me why feyre and amren and varian and rhys all acted like Tamlin in this book. Cardi voice WHAT WAS THE REASON. I AM SO MAD ABOUT THIS CUS THEY ACTED LIKE THE FRICKING MORALISING SYCHOPHANTS THEY CLAIM TO HATE.

Like bitch??? They’re like those youth pastors that reiterate how broken and messed up people with mental illness are? Acted like Nesta screwing guys was the worst thing ever when they should have embraced her? Like I get she would push them away but really??? “Waste of life”??? 

So we gon gloss over how Amren was insisting Nesta shut up about the baby business to Feyre (aka hiding shit from her)? How she was implying that Rhys should conquer all of Prythian? Hear me out, even as someone from a Caribbean country that was colonized by the whites, it actually doesn’t bother me when the theme of conquest comes up, like, this is a fantasy novel and colonization does not exist within the same context for me. That being said, like, it felt as if the narrative telling me lil Rhysie is just sooooo perfect that he needs to be High King. Like, I respect the fact that Rhys has no wish to do so. Homeboy never seemed to care for conquest beyond ensuring his Court’s prowess and safety so WHAT WAS THE REASON AMREN??? Like? What kinda crack was Amren on this entire book???

The worldbuilding... listen, the politics and history felt all over the place, felt incoherent and flat honestly. Didn’t bother me as much as it did in ACOWAR but it was just *meh*, not good. Not horrible, but not great. I preferred the world when it was directly the result of Beauty and the Beat and East of the Sun, West of the Moon.

The Fae have lost their *magic*: no cus what I loved about the first book was that the Fae were one with the Courts and felt very fleshed out in terms of their powers and shit, but now only Eric and Lucien and Tamlin and sometimes Rhys have that same magic for me. Like... the sensuality of the Fae in terms of their actual Celtic roots, that which felt whimsical and immersive in the first book, feels lost to me. I can’t explain it but I feel less nuance and orthodoxy in their portrayal. However, I DID love this one line featuring none other than the loml : “Amid the pink and white blossoms, the cold-faced Autumn Court heir looked truly faerie - as if he’d stepped out of the tree, and his one and only master was the earth itself”. LIKE I SALIVATED THAT IS MY MAN.

*good stuffs*

Okay let’s talk about the smut like I didn’t like the word choice as usual like quit with the euphemisms and say cock and goooooo. That being said like, okay, I like how she set up the physical dynamic between Nesta and Cassian cus the sex wasn’t some big romantic climactic build-up like how it was in acomaf like they were being NASTY from the get-go and I respect that drip. Like she did not cap on how porny the smut was and thank God it wasn’t some cliche romantic honeymoon type shit, like it was almost on the ao3 level of smutty goodness. All it was was missing was coarse language and hard kinks but in general, I liked the Nessian smut in this book more than the feyrhys smut in particularly ACOWAR and ACOFAS, like Nessian just do not cap.

Listen... you see that whole part when Nesta was like imagining how awesome it would be to dance Lucifer’s Bachata with Az and Cassian? Yeah, my girl just let her thoughts run wild. Like Nesta makes Feyre look naïve. Like you know how Tumblr porn in 2016 used to be with the aesthetic type shit? That’s Feyre, but Nesta is like on Pornhub level and it’s so fitting I was YELLIN lowkey. I feel like less importance was placed on how meaningful the sex and shit should be in the book and I respect that.

YOU SEE WHEN NESTA TOLD FEYRE ABOUT THE BABY!!! I WAS CHEERING HER ON. No cause they were being so nasty to Nesta especially Amren and then Feyre entered with all of her moralising shit like honey you KNOW damn well what you’re doing to Nesta is what you hate being done to you. Like damn right tell her, cus I could not STAND the double standard.

The whole training the women thing was a nice touch. It was kinda corny but also sweet. That being said, I laughed so hard when I realized how this entire book was Nesta’s quarter-life hippie rebirth where she learns to meditate and work out and read romance books and face her inner demons like this is some real New York college shit. All that was missing was a Starbucks.

Cassian. Man I love this man so much. No like he displayed peak dilf behavior. I think his attractiveness isn’t based on his bravery or his hotness but his humility man. Like he’s not a thot, he’s respectful, yet tough, yet contemplative. He’s contented with his life station yet wants to always be a better person yet is such a strong rock who really loves Nesta not despite her flaws but because they are part of her. I love the way he stood up to Rhys a lot, he didn’t shame her when she was awful to him, and he is protective (annoyingly so sometimes) but he really wanted her to empower herself. Their relationship isn’t perfect (I’m not in the mood to dissect the problematic aspects rn) but they were so sweet together and I didn’t expect to like them as much as I did back when they were lowkey a thing in ACOMAF.

The mates thing didn’t bother me cus I saw this shit coming since 2016. Yes, it’s cliche and annoying but the mates status also, like, has no meaning to me so it is what it is. Didn’t think they NEEDED to be mates but I was happy that them being mates wasn’t the core of the novel and it was secondary to Nesta’s individual healing journey.

Prepare for me to get sappy but another reason why I loved this novel was because it was a story of healing. :( :( :( The road to healing and growth in the emotional sense is always beautiful to me despite how flawed it often is when SJM writes it. I just felt really immersed in the emotional woes and eventual growth of Nesta despite my issues with the book and this is perhaps one of the main reasons that I found it beautiful, because healing as a theme is always beautiful and raw.

More of Nessian but like their relationship feels so real and raw too. No, cus like, it wasn’t tinged in as much fictitious idealism as feyrhys’ relationship was. They weren’t all stupidly in love and seeing each other in the universe and shit, like they just made each other happy and weren’t portrayed as the perfect soulmates who were each other’s yin and yang and whatever thank the LORD. Them having each other’s back was enough and ughhhh Cassian was just so sweet and such a good trainer and so aloof yet passionate like I been waiting to see more of him since ACOMAF so yayyy.

Okay... that scene where Rhys kneels to Nesta and she embraces him. yes. YES YES YES YES YES that shit was the shit that made my year like I want this man to be in her debt for the end of time like this hoe saved yall like big strong high lord better bow to the “witch” like I could hear angelic choirs at that scene like Rhys doesn’t just yield to people so easily so like, it was just kinda epic okay. Little bitchass Rhys with his perfect little river house and emo boi clothes stfu hoe.

No cus I love how Nesta told Cassian she didn’t wanna hear about Feyre’s special journey or Rhys’s special journey or Mor’s like I got fed up of people acting like they epitomized “good” and the “good path” to self-discovery when they can choke on a baguette as far as I am concerned.

*shit no one except me probs cares about*

Eris. So here is the thing. Since 2015 in ACOTAR when Eris was Under the Mountain being all red-headed and cunning and sexy and evil I have been obsessed with him... well, the idea of him I had in my head and how delectably abhorrent he seems (I like villains and side-characters okay). Maybe it was just his name (Eris is a hot name shut up) or the idea of a rich, cunning fox-faced prince in the same universe appealed to me. Either way, I actually never expected by favorite cameo-character to become... important. I’ll die on the hill of loving him. Here is the thing... I don’t want him to be good, in the same way I did not want Rhys to be a good guy in ACOTAR either. I don’t need him to be a secret angel, I don’t need him to be sweet and good like Rhys always was apparently. Honestly, I want him corrupt but likeable and pertinent to the story. That being said, I really want him as the main character for one of the upcoming novels sooo bad like please PLEASE let me see the autumn court and it’s two-facedness please like if not Eris then Lucien as the main character please.

Lucien... aka my fave character since the first book man. Mannn, SJM does homeboy so dirty like I have always loved Russian fables and hence, I am so ready for Lucien x Vassa x Jurian in the Vasilisa retelling with the firebird trope and Koshei. NO CUS in 2018 I was finna write a 100k word fic about this but then I forgot about it no cap, I still have the story plan in my Onenote actually but let us not reminisce. See, my ao3-loving ass wants an angsty poly relationship and also a hot Koshei I have been waiting YEARS for this you hoes, ever since Elain got the premonition of Vassa as a firebird in ACOWAR like God please please please give it to me and make it feyrhys-less as well yasss.

I lowkey wanna suspect Eris is gay and Mor, also gay, knows and that’s why she lowkey kinda tolerates him now. Yet, I cannot be sure and yeah I just wanna say that I kinda want that arc lmfaooo (my ao3-self is showing shut up).

No cus I was TEASED by only seeing a glimpse of Vassa and Jurian but THEY SHALL HAVE THEIR TIME I KNOW IT.

Tamlin living as a beast is so interesting to me. He’s a side-character now but ughhhh he was so mystical and interesting as our good ole Beauty and the Beast beastie like it’s sooooo mysterious and alluring how he’s becoming his own villainous legend like I still care about Tamlin’s blond ass self despite everything. 

Give us the snowball fight scene you coward.

I just gotta say Nessian could outsmut Feyrhys any day and that makes me proud.

FRICKING AZRIEL like first of all Mor doesn’t NEED to come out until she’s ready but she gotta let the man down nicely some other way so he can move on. I do not like Elain. Never did. I still do not. I do not, frankly, want a whole novel where she and Azriel fall in love and she rejects Lucien like... okay, I DO want her to reject Lucien so he can be with Vassa at the very least but also I am not interested in Elain’s POV rn. BUT I WANT AZ’S POV AND LIKE WHAT THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO DO I WANT MY EMO BOI TO BE HAPPY. This is so frustrating cus Az is a walking DILF right and so, what am I supposed to do now.

I kinda miss the Spring Court just a little. It’s pretty shut up. It got that Zuhair Murad fashion too. 

Umm like, what the hell is up with that business with Helion being Lucien’s dad? We need more on this which is why I want a Lucien POV book goddammit.

Yoooooooo yall remember that bitch from ACOWAR who hybern was finna kill and she had a name and everything and then there was some foreshadowing and shit? What’s up with her? Like I can’t even remember her name lowkey but yeah what’s up with that. Was it something like Briar or Briannon or somthing???

Is Mor getting a book? Like deadass I need the Lucien and Vassa book, I need the Eris book, I need the Mor book and I need the Azriel book. Damn. Been waiting 6 years for some of this shit.

Okay that is all for now. Yes, this book has problematic elements at every level but I still loved it yet also hated some things about it. I won’t read House of Blood and Earth nor will I finish the TOG series but I guess I’ll stick with this series which remains near and dear to my soul despite what people gotta say about it. It made me happy and that’s what matters. Nesta is a huge ass inspiration to me as a character and I still wanna see her make the Inner Circle’s life a living hell uwu. I admittedly got HELLA emotional reading this story because it’s nonetheless super meaningful to me even at age 19 and it’s really powerful for me as a comfort book, and I look forward (a little) to what this woman put out next... sort of.

Signing off! Don’t @ me (okay you CAN @ me but idc).

[therapy101]

(1/2) With a rise in young children expressing gender nonconformity being sent to gender clinics, being taught about gender dysphoria and being ‘born in the wrong body’ in schools, being guided towards pubertal blockers and medical transition, I was wondering if I could ask for your more knowledgeable input please. When treating such children and adolescents, why is the underlying assumption that the dysphoric feelings are valid and the body is what needs fixing? Why is APA/psychologists

(”2/2) allowing medical decisions to be made based on outdated mind-body dualism? We don’t affirm anorexia and offer liposuction, or the delusions of schizophrenia for instance, so why is this the only mind-body incongruence that’s treated this way? Does GD in a developing child really warrant medicalizing them for the rest of their lives? Since we’ve scientifically concluded gender is a spectrum, shouldn’t we instead be promoting gender diversity no matter what sexed body we’re born in?”

There are a lot of things to unpack and understand here. 

1. The underlying assumption is not that “the body needs fixing.” Medical transition is not the first step for children, adolescents, or adults with gender dysphoria. From 2004-2016, only 92 total children and adolescents out of six million total patients younger than 19 seen in the sample received a hormone blocker for a transgender-related diagnosis. Even among adults, current estimates for the United States are that between 25-35% of trans and non-binary adults complete any kind of gender affirming surgery (this means, even enough those who have surgery, it may only be one type of surgery and may not impact all relevant body parts). Getting access to trans-affirming medical care is very difficult, and structural inequalities like racism impact access to care, leading some trans people, especially Black trans women, to have to buy hormones from non-medical sources. That’s one of the reasons why the APA has come out to support trans folks and gender affirming care: because otherwise, these folks don’t get any care, or they get mistreated. The point here is to ensure that everyone gets equitable access to high quality medical and mental health care. That includes hormones, hormone blockers, and/or surgery for some people, but not everyone. 

2. All feelings are valid- dysphoric or otherwise. Sometimes feelings don’t fit the facts, or acting upon them doesn’t make sense, but that doesn’t take away from their validity. The question is not whether the feelings are valid for kids with gender dysphoria, the question is how to understand that dysphoria better and how to identify what to do about it, both in terms of gender identity and in terms of coping, support and improving overall mental health. This is a great place for a therapist with expertise to step in and help the child and their family figure it out. 

Sometimes the child or adolescent has known literally or essentially their whole life, and that may mean no dysphoria (which is great!). From Katz-Wise et al., 2017: 

For some youth, primarily but not exclusively those ages 7–12 years, indication of transgender identification occurred early and was described as “immediate.” One father of an 18-year-old trans boy from the Northeast noted, “It was so immediate that it was just, you know, it wasn’t like he was seven and he said, ‘Oh my god he thinks of himself as a boy.’ It was just kinda always like that with him.”

For other youth, it is a more gradual process, and may take some time to sort out. Some youth also don’t have dysphoria while they are doing that so there may not be a reason to seek out therapy unless there is some other mental health issue they are facing. But if they do have dysphoria, or are otherwise experiencing mental health symptoms related to their gender identity, then seeing a therapist can help. 

3. Supporting a child to identify as trans or nonbinary or some other non-cis gender is not “medicalizing them for the rest of their lives.” Hormone blockers can be removed, and hormones can be stopped- but I disagree that these are “medicalizing” in any case. A person cannot be reduced down to the medications they take or the treatments they receive. Is a woman with cancer “medicalized” because she undergoes a hysterectomy? Are the children on puberty blockers for medical reasons “medicalized” (>2000 of them in the study I cited above, but no one seems concerned about them)? What about those people with delusions who are put on antipsychotics, which are known to have severe side effects including higher risk of diabetes and heart disease, seizures, tardive dyskinesia, overwhelming sleepiness impacting ability to work or drive, weight gain (I’ve seen clients gain >70 lbs in 3 months), and more? 

I would encourage you to read either of these great studies by Katz-Wise et al: 1 or 2 to understand this better. When you ask trans youth about themselves, the medical aspect is such a small part- they are talking about their whole selves, their hopes for the future, their families and friends, and their wishes to be able to be loved and accepted for who they really are. Some of it is about their bodies, sure, and that can mean that some decide to use hormones and/or hormone blockers or undergo surgery (although we’ve seen that those rates aren’t super higher ). But they’re also just talking about being called the right name and pronoun, getting to wear the clothes that make them feel authentic, getting to date and marry and have sex, and: getting to live. Not being ostracized and assaulted and killed. Like this 8 year old who identifies as a girlish boy worrying he’ll never be able to get married AND be his true self (from the second Katz-Wise et al):

An 8-year-old youth participant who identified as a “girlish boy” similarly worried about other people's reactions related to gender norms in the long-term future, as told by his mother,

He said [to me], ‘But I'm not going to get married, because if I married a boy I'd want to be the bride...I would want to wear a dress and people would laugh at me because I'm marrying a boy and I'd be wearing a dress.

He is 8 years old and these are his worries. As a mental health professional, my immediate thought is that he deserves any and all support that makes sense to him and his family so that he doesn’t have to worry like this. So that he can be 8. 

4. Finally, and probably most importantly: gender dysphoria is different because treating it with hormone blockers, hormones, and surgery is literally life saving. 

As high as 42% of trans people have attempted suicide at least once. For comparison, the lifetime prevalence of suicide attempts in the general population is 3%.  

Study after study has shown that there are three primary factors that reduce suicide risk: 1. Timely medical and legal transition for those who want it; 2. Family acceptance and general support from friends and loved ones; 3. Reduced transphobia and internalized transphobia. (1 2 3 4 5). 

Psychologists want to help people live, and live well. Living well means having a life you enjoy and find meaningful. If medical transition means someone’s suicide risk decreases and their mental health improves, then they can pursue the life they want. Being affirmed in their gender means they can have that part of the life they want. It might also help them get to other things they want (like having the marriage and wedding they envision, like that example). These are things we as psychologists prioritize. Period. 

It’s not the same as anorexia because providing a liposuction for two reasons. One: It would not resolve the dysphoria. People with anorexia who lose weight do not feel better about themselves and their bodies. That’s the dysphoria: people with anorexia (and other eating disorders, sometimes) often cannot see their bodies as they really are. Changing the body won’t help. Unlike in gender dysphoria, where changing the body- either in presentation or actually medically -actually does help. Two: Liposuction for an underweight person with anorexia could kill them. As we’ve discussed, gender affirming surgeries for trans people can save their lives. These are not comparable. 

The comparison to delusions doesn’t work very well because there isn’t really a “medical” intervention you would do to affirm someone’s delusion. But, since you may not know this: we sometimes do affirm people’s delusions, and it’s not necessarily psychologically helpful to try to change someone’s mind about a delusion. Delusions are not bad all on their own, and: sometimes things we think are delusional, actually aren’t, so it’s super important not to assume we know someone’s life and experiences better than they do. (Just recently a nurse assumed a patient was delusional, but actually they were quite rich and owned several expensive cars. People can be rich and have a significant mental illness.) So anyway- I don’t know how that applies. 

Overall: we as a field are still understanding the full spectrum of gender identities and how to do good treatment and good science in relationship with that. But what’s clear is that medical transition is sometimes a part of a good treatment plan for both youth and adults, and that it can save people’s lives. It can make their lives better. I am 100% about saving people’s lives, so I am 100% about a medical transition when appropriate and gender affirming care in general. 

References: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

(email me at academic.consultant101 gmail.com if you need full texts)

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[ibijau]

How would nhs react to a deage teenager!lxc after canon or lxc knew nhs as a student and next time he see nhs is a aldult.

this... kinda got out of hand wow. Thanks for the prompt!! it was a lot of fun!

Of course Nie Huaisang, like everyone else, knows that Lan Xichen has entered seclusion and won’t see anyone. After what happened, the shock of being lied to and manipulated for years culminating in nearly killing the person he thought was his last true friend left... If he’s honest, Nie Huaisang too finds isolation tempting, but sadly it isn’t part of Qinghe Nie’s culture the way it is in Gusu Lan, and so he must power through.

Still, Lan Xichen’s seclusion feels like a technicality that doesn’t concern him. After everything, when Nie Huaisang comes to the Cloud Recesses for business, he decides to take the chance to visit the man who tried to be his friend, in spite of everything Nie Huaisang is, everything he pretended to be. They have much to talk about. It is selfish of Nie Huaisang, but he misses Lan Xichen. Besides, the jade token that Lan Xichen gave him years ago is still active, so surely it must mean that a visit from him isn't entirely unexpected. Nie Huaisang heard that Jin Guangyao's token was rendered inert after the slight scandal in Carp Tower. Apparently, he's still a step higher than that. It's a comforting feeling.

And so, once his business with Lan Qiren is dealt with, Nie Huaisang doesn't go to the room prepared for him and his retinue. Instead he heads for the Hanshi. The path is familiar, Nie Huaisang doesn't have to pay attention as his feet carry him to his brother's sworn brother's house. A mix of fear and anticipation make him walk slower and faster in turn. In front of the Hanshi's door, Nie Huaisang pauses for a moment. It might be presomptuous of him to be here, after the way things went at the temple. Lan Xichen seemed broken then, in a way even the horrors of the Sunshot campaign hadn't managed. To come here like this, unnanounced... but they both need this, Nie Huaisang decides. He owes Lan Xichen an explanation, and hopefully Lan Xichen will apologise as well for his own failures. They both could have done better, but this might be a chance for a clean start.

It would be nice if they could be friends, for real this time. No pretences, no Jin Guangyao, just the two of them getting along, openly and honestly.

Nie Huaisang knocks on the door.

Unexpectedly fast, he can hear footsteps on the other side, and the door opens before he fully has time to steel himself for the confrontation.

“Oh, you're not Uncle,” the young man who opened says. (but is he a man? He can't be more than sixteen or seventeen). “I did think it was still early.”

Nie Huaisang stares, and refuses to believe what he's seeing. The boy in front of him isn't much taller than him, though he will certainly continue growing in the coming years. He is elegant and calm, but still youthful, still with a touch of uncertainty that grows more pronounced the longer Nie Huaisang gapes at him.

“Do I know you?” the boy asks at last. “You seem familiar but... ah! Did uncle send you?”

“Not exactly. I'm Nie Huaisang. I'm... you are...”

The boy presses a hand against his mouth as he laughs.

“Nie Huaisang? You mean, Mingjue's little brother? Oh, you've grown quite a bit!”

That's not exactly true. In fact, coming from anyone else, Nie Huaisang would take that as a lie at best, a mocking attack at worst. But this boy... if this boy is who he seems to be, if his mind fits his appearance, he would remember Nie Huaisang a good deal shorter.

“Er-ge... I mean, Lan Xichen? Is that you?”

The boy drops his hand and nods with an apologetic smile.

“I'm not really supposed to talk about it,” he explains. “I'm not even supposed to let anyone see me until we find a solution, but... oh, if it's Nie er-gongzi, it's fine. But please, come in. I'm really not supposed to have visitors.”

Entranced, Nie Huaisang can only obey and follows this too young Lan Xichen into the Hanshi. The house hasn't changed much since his last visit, many months before. The only difference is its inhabitant, smiling brightly, as if he doesn't have a care in the world. Nie Huaisang doesn't think he had seen such a sincere smile on Lan Xichen's face since the Sunshot Campaign.

“Would you like some tea?” Lan Xichen asks, ever the perfect host. “I was going to make some for myself, so it's really no bother.”

“I... yes, certainly.”

“Please, sit down, Nie er-gongzi. Nie-xiong? What should I call you? I can remember calling you Huaisang, but I wouldn't want to disrespect you, so...”

“You still call me by my name,” Nie Huaisang assures him, which isn't a lie. It was still true last time they met. He isn't sure if it would still be true, had he faced a full grown man instead of a boy, but there's little point in debating this now. “I don't mind if you continue doing so. It would be very awkward for me if you tried to treat me as an elder.”

Lan Xichen smiles again, and puts some water to boil. Without waiting to be invited, Nie Huaisang sits at the table. It could almost feel like nothing has changed, as long as he doesn't look too closely at the person preparing their tea.

“Dare I ask what happen to you, Lan Xichen?”

“Please, just... just Xichen? Or are you this formal with me now?” Lan Xichen asks, shooting him a worried look.

“I've never been one for formality,” Nie Huaisang replies. “Are you avoiding my question, Xichen?”

Again, the boy laughs. Nie Huaisang suddenly realises that just like his smiles, Lan Xichen's laughters hadn't been so free in years. He had never thought to miss that, but he does now.

Once the water is hot, Lan Xichen pours it in a teapot which he brings to the table, sitting down at last while the leaves infuse.

“I wish I could tell you what happened, Huaisang,” he confesses with mild embarrassment. “But I simply do not know. Uncle think it is an accident of some sort. He told me that certain regrettable events had made me unwell. He won't tell me more than that.”

There are dozens of unspoken questions in Lan Xichen's eyes, all of which Nie Huaisang pretends he cannot notice. Instead he checks the teapot and serves tea for both of them.

“It must be quite upsetting to you,” Nie Huaisang says. “What's the most recent thing you remember?”

“Some new guest disciples had just arrived a few days ago. Very prestigious ones this year, since there were the sons of Sect Leader Jin and Sect Leader Jiang... and you were returning as well, of course. It was promising to be an interesting year. One of the guests had already gotten in trouble and duelled my brother. I tried asking, but Uncle wouldn't tell me what became of that boy. His name was Wei Wuxian, do you perhaps remember him?”

Nie Huaisang snorts, most inelegantly, and hesitates how much he can tell on that matter. In the end, he decides the latest piece of gossip that reached him can be shared safely.

“Lan Wangji recently married him.”

He hopes, perhaps a little cruelly, to shock Lan Xichen, or at least to surprise him. Instead, the boy beams.

“I knew that Wangji liked him!” he exclaims, before pressing a hand to his mouth as he realises how loud he was. “Sorry for this. Oh, but I'm so glad! It's so rare for Wangji to take a shine to someone... I'm so happy for him!”

Nie Huaisang tries to smile, and fails. He remembers how upset Lan Xichen was over his brother's choice in the years that followed Wei Wuxian's death, his resentment that he still couldn't shake in that temple after Wei Wuxian finally opened his eyes to Lan Wangji's feelings.

He had never realised how bitter Lan Xichen had become. He did not let him consume him, not the way Nie Huaisang had, but... it's odd to think they might have been similar in that respect.

“Huaisang, if I may ask... since you seem well informed on my family, would you tell me what happened to me?” Lan Xichen asks, fidgeting with his cup of tea. “As I've told you, Uncle won't say a thing but... you say we still call each other by name, after this long, and you came to see me uninvited. Am I right to assume we must be friends?”

There's something so hopeful to that boy's voice, as if it would really make him happy to hear they are close. They weren't back then, not especially. Nie Huaisang admired his brother's friend, but found Lan Xichen too serious to really pay him attention, especially when there were people like Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng to play with instead. He had no idea how Lan Xichen saw him at that time, but apparently he had a better opinion of Nie Huaisang than expected.

It should be flattering.

It is not.

Nie Huaisang looks at that hopeful boy, one whose father is in seclusion but still alive, whose brother has poor taste in men but no scars on his back yet, who is too serious for his age but doesn't bear the burden of running a sect before his time, who hasn't yet felt the horrors of wars, of watching both of his friends die before his eyes, viciously killing each other. Most of what happened to Lan Xichen isn't his fault, but Nie Huaisang still feels guilty.

It is unbearable to see Lan Xichen so innocent.

“I'm not sure I'm the right person to tell you,” Nie Huaisang mumbles, avoiding Lan Xichen's eyes. “It was... a lot happened. It might be best to leave it at that.”

“But you do know,” Lan Xichen insists. “Uncle says he doesn't know the details anyway, that he cannot tell me something he's not certain of. But you know.”

“And I'm glad you don't. What happened... if you can live without remembering, without being told about it, perhaps it's for the best.”

This, at last, bring a crack into Lan Xichen's warmth. Nie Huaisang hates himself for it when he sees the slight frown on the boy's face, hates that this is an expression that he's far more used to seeing on Lan Xichen's face.

“Is it really that bad, Huaisang?”

“I don't know what you're imagining but... it's at least as bad as that, and possibly worse.”

Lan Xichen's frown deepen.

“I see. Then... at least it confirms something I've suspected.”

“Which is?”

“This was not an accident,” Lan Xichen states, gesturing at himself. “I think I did this on purpose. I... The man I become, is he a coward then?”

Something squeezes in Nie Huaisang's chest, so tight and painful that it nearly makes him sick. He quickly shakes his head and, without thinking, reaches for Lan Xichen's hands.

“You are a brave man,” he promises. “You made mistakes, but only because you are kind and certain people took advantage. You are a good man, you tried your best to be fair, even when we all lied to you, and...”

“We?” Lan Xichen notes, pulling his hands away. “Did you lie to me as well, Huaisang?”

The pain in his voice is... they've gone through that once already at the temple. Nie Huaisang cannot do it again. The first time was hard when Lan Xichen knew already how cruel the world can be, but to do this again, to bear with this again and explain to this kind, innocent boy that he consistently put his trust in all the worst people is...

It was a mistake to come here.

“I have to go,” Nie Huaisang mutters, rising on unsteady feet.

“So you did lie,” Lan Xichen whispers, looking up at him, disappointment clear in his eyes. “Are... are we even friends, then?”

Nie Huaisang turns away.

“I had come to ask you the same question,” he confesses. “I wanted to know if it was too much to ask, after what I did to you. I'll never get my answer now, but perhaps it's for the best. You... you really grew into a good man, Lan Xichen. Out of all of us, I think you're the one who turned out best. But sometimes, being good isn't enough. Not when there are men like me around.”

“But you used to be good as well,” Lan Xichen retorts, his tone nearly whiny, like a child's. And why not? He's not so far from childhood still, no matter how much he tries to act like an adult. “You always were so nice, Huaisang. You always made me smile when we talked, you were always so honest! Why would you have started lying to me?”

The idea that he ever was honest is hilarious, so Nie Huaisang starts crying.

“There's no real reason,” he says, and that's a lie too, but at this point what's a little more? “People are never as good as you think they are, Xichen, especially when life get a little tough. I'm sorry I wasn't the friend you deserved. I really wanted to be, but sometimes... sometimes it's not enough to want it.”

Having said his piece, Nie Huaisang walks to the door, cursing himself for coming to the Hanshi, for giving in to curiosity when he saw this boy, for not leaving him to his fate. He is almost out when Lan Xichen speaks again.

“Do you really think we can't be friends then?” he asks, so young and eager and lost. It is awful to remember there was a time when Lan Xichen had the freedom of not needed to appear confident at all times, when he could hesitate, when he could be unsure.

“I think you can find better friends than me,” Nie Huaisang sighs, pretending it doesn't come as a sob. “Goodbye, Xichen, or farewell maybe. I don't think I'll be coming here again, not unless you get back to normal someday and invite me yourself.”

“I see. I'll hold you to that, Huaisang.”

Nie Huaisang laughs, or sobs, or both. If Lan Xichen ever gets back to the man he was before this incident, it's unlikely he will want anything to do with the traitor who tried to turn him into a murderer. It was stupid, really, to think that they might get a second chance.

Without another word, Nie Huaisang leaves the Hanshi and heads for the guest quarters, desperately trying to calm his tears.

It was a mistake to come here.

But of course, Nie Huaisang has always been good at making mistakes.

[generallypo]

move over maschenny, we’ve got a hotter and cooler Khun princess in the tower now.

introducing Khun Aguero Jahad, the one and only princess that Jahad actually, sincerely hopes never wins the competition.

excessive rambling under the cut + a short fic under that. all my warnings are dead and void as of now. cheers!

-- -- -- -- -- --

i sat on my salt for a couple of days -- and then finally, finally decided to do something about it. my previous TOG post kinda went ham on that. yeehaw.

i imagine jahadprincess!khun is a little more snakey than the original (is that possible?). having climbed the tower at a blistering pace following her selection, she’s also a more competent fighter, though it additionally means she needs to use her brain less. though she plays more by her family’s and Jahad’s rules, she’s not particularly ruled by her bloodlust in the way Maschenny is, or utter complacency like Repellista. her outfit is shamelessly ripped off of Yuri’s and the casual officewear aesthetic khun sports in s1.

anyways, i did The Big Write. it has been 3 years since i have attempted such a thing. the process was complicated and stressful, i drank milk tea to compensate. i wanted to depict the moment of a big decision in which a characteristically selfish person does something shockingly altruistic, as well as the bystander who questions her motives. it’s not quite khunbam, more like an intense, one-sided dedication and some sorely needed soul searching. 

played fast and loose with characterization, timelines, general TOG canon while banging out this beast. like every middle child, i’m not super proud of it, but it gets the job done. i had a great time with it! really!

-- -- -- -- -- -- 

Unsurprisingly, it’s Yuri who finds her first. 

Her heels, lustrous and scarlet, click faintly on the rooftop tiles, and their mild echo belies nothing of the thunder on her face, or the sibilant presence of the Black March at her side. Aguero turns to meet her, inclines her head in response. 

“Why, princess Yuri. It’s a pleasure, as always.”

“Cut the crap, Aguero,” she snaps. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Aguero raises her hands. From one of them, Manbarondenna dangles innocently, unclasped buckles gleaming under fake starlight. 

“Waiting for my ride. I’m not expecting a plus one, though.” She smiles pleasantly, eyes narrowed. “Run along now. This is a single-passenger trip.”

Yuri growls. “Seriously?” She steps forward with intent, and Aguero momentarily tenses, fingers flying to her bag — but just barely, Yuri’s features soften, and she stops. Dramatically, she cocks her head, ponytail bobbing with vigor.

“You,” she points emphatically. “You’re actually going to do this. You’re not worried about the consequences.”

She states it like an accusation, but the palest shade of concern colors her voice. Are you sure of what you’re doing? Leaving this place -- leaving all of us? A complicated expression crosses her features, and she scowls. 

“This won’t just affect you, Aguero.” Firmly, her hand rests on the Black March’s handle. Do you want me to stop you?

“… I’m aware.” A pause, and oh, ugh, Aguero’s doing it again — that nasty, calculating look on her face, the one that reminds onlookers, in no uncertain terms, exactly how the princess had come by her position. Yuri balks uncharacteristically, and steps away. 

It’s not like she doesn’t think she can take Aguero in a fight… but it’s not what she had come here for in the first place. After knowing each other this long, the least she can do is offer her support, not another enemy. Aguero has no problems with making — and gleefully crushing — the latter.

She looks at the woman before her. Khun Aguero Jahad, formerly surnamed Agnis. Not so long ago, a nameless little nobody — somebody’s second, second-choice, second-rate daughter, born in a family with too many offspring to invest attention into a daughter lacking outstanding martial prowess or an especially fetching face. A forgotten girl, wholly incongruent to the imposing figure Yuri knows her as now. 

The air around them vibrates with tension, laced with an inexorable chill -- it’s not a trick of the light, Yuri notices, that her breath seems a little more visible than normal, that the sweat on her forehead feels almost solid to her skin. Aguero is watching her, face bright and predatory, and it’s a stark reminder that even beautiful things can be cold and unforgiving.

The crown jewel of the Khun family sneers, and Yuri braces herself for impact.

— — — 

Khun Aguero Agnis had almost always been a slippery, unremarkable thing, with willow branches for arms and a sullen, snarky mien. On her placid, faintly superior face sat two intelligent, gem-blue eyes — pretty enough, but also afflicted with an attitude chilly enough to wither even the most persistent suitor’s desire. To her family, and an equally hostile Tower, she was both undesirable and unsupported — and consequently, insignificant. 

Yuri had met her before, once. It had been an event much, much longer ago, during a nameless, perfectly ordinary mission to deliver some sealed goods. A loaded favor of sorts, from one family to another. Bright and on the cusp of princesshood, hair still bound in youthful twin tails, she had been greeted at the door of one of the numerous Khun establishments by a slim joke of a girl. 

Thanks for your work, the girl had said, eyes blue and sleepless and unreadable. I’ve been expecting you. With mechanical efficiency, the girl received, inspected, and stowed the package away, vanishing from the gate within seconds. 

Baffled, Yuri withdrew, scratching her head. She’d been given a verification stamp to use at the end, but the package had made it to the correct address regardless. 

I’ve been expecting you, the Khun girl had said. That counted as a mission complete, didn’t it?

If not for the silvery-blue shock of her hair, no one would have guessed the girl a child of one of the great ten families. Favored Khuns, after all, were generally not disposed towards handling petty messenger duties. The observation had barely registered for Yuri, and not much later a more exciting adventure came along to wipe the encounter from her mind. Favored or not, there were more interesting, deadly things in the Tower to focus on.

A couple hundred years ago, though… things had changed, and drastically so. Yuri doesn’t know or exactly care for the inner politics or delicate power balances among the characters of Jahad’s court, but the truth of the matter is this: 

Khun Aguero Jahad might have only been recently crowned — but she has always been a threat. 

Since the dawn of the ten families, the Khun staples of education had remained true to three essential subjects: warfare, politics, and assassination. The children learn young, or not at all. A daughter true to her heritage, Khun Aguero Agnis had bared her fangs only at the most opportune moment, sinking them firmly in the throats of her blood sister, a rival from a nearby branch family, and a number of prominent, up-and-coming girls vying for the princess candidacy. 

It had been, without a doubt — a flawless victory, the perfect display of brains and cruel strength. And of course, with those eyes, a blue as deep and pitiless as the sea: beauty, and the arrogance to wield it.

It had taken the entire upper floors by complete surprise, propelled Aguero’s name to the top of the gossip columns, and whispered unrest among the current princesses in a way that hadn’t been felt in at least half a millennium. All it had taken was a hundred years’ worth of waiting, a lighthouse, a well-placed knife, and some dead girls.

As expected, a mere three months after her candidacy was announced, Khun Aguero Agnis became Khun Aguero Jahad, and not a single voice spoke out to disagree.

— — — 

“Are you going to stop me?” Aguero’s voice is low and cool. Like magic, a small blade glimmers in her hand, and while Yuri can’t predict what kinds of weapons her sister carries on her person, she knows better than to think this is her only, or most lethal one.

“... No,” she admits ruefully. “I don’t think I’d be able to, anyway.” Deftly, she stows the Black March in her inventory, and spins around to sit cross-legged by the princess’s side. It’s always a gamble, relying on Aguero’s temper, but it’s more likely than not that the other girl isn’t actually looking for a fight. She can’t afford the attention a real one would draw, or the physical exhaustion it would inflict.

Aguero lets her, and she grins with satisfaction. “I’ll wait with you until your ride is here!” The and buy you time, if necessary, goes unsaid. Yuri yawns, and then stretches, eyes crinkling with cheeky fondness. It won’t take long for her to get bored. What better way to kill time than with invasive questioning?

“Is he really worth it, Aguero? That boy?” Yuri pouts, eyebrows raised. “This better not just be because he’s cute.” Her words have the subtlety of a berserk Shinheuh, but she’s genuinely curious, and Aguero will understand.

A quiet huff of laughter has her squinting in surprise. Dawn hasn’t quite made it to their corner of the rooftop, but she can make out the faint, yet unmistakable curve of a real smile. 

Huh, thinks Yuri, wide-eyed. It’s not a bad look on her. It’s not that Aguero has never smiled, per se, but the intrinsic softness of it all is a wholly foreign creature to her, and she likes to think Aguero does consider her a friend. Or at least as close to one as a Khun is allowed to call a person.

“Oh, he’s cute all right. Like… a puppy, I guess. Big, gold eyes, really nice voice, listens to everything I say.” Aguero snorts, fiddles with her hair. “… For the most part, at least. There was a girl that he came here chasing after — ” and here she pauses briefly, expression hard like ice chips — “but she’s, ah, not a problem anymore.” 

Yuri blinks. By her feet, frost gleams in elegant, spiraling patterns. For a moment, curiosity steals across her thoughts— what kind of girl could that have been, to catch the eye of Aguero’s sweetheart? To make even the pride of the Khuns lose her famously unshakable cool? And what the hell had even happened? But instinct cautions her otherwise, and it’s yet to lead her astray. 

Yuri shakes her head. Best not to pry into those matters. 

“Okay, then. And what are you going to do after you go?” she presses. “You know you can’t come back.”

At first, there’s no response. The seconds slide uneasily by, thick like a finger swirled through honey. The other girl’s face is thoughtful as she slowly replies: “I’m gonna help him climb the Tower.” 

Aguero shifts slightly, and meets Yuri’s gaze. “To be fair, I wasn’t sure about that either at first. He… he’s really weak, you know.”

Yuri cackles, just to fill the silence. “That bad?”

“That bad.” Aguero exhales. “But he’s a monster, too. He has these… moments, when he gets a certain look in his eyes, and it’s almost terrifying. It’s funny, because he’s the gentlest thing I’ve ever met. But he’s going to be amazing in the future. I know it.” 

“... Like Jahad? Or better?” Is it the boy’s power you’re after? His life? It’s not like Yuri can’t understand. But in the Tower, the asking price of violence and overwhelming force comes laughably cheap, and for something as easy as that Aguero would never be so reckless. The conditions of their status are admittedly stifling, but few things are truly unreachable for a Jahad princess.

Or is it something else?

“They’re nothing alike,” Aguero says flatly. “And I don’t want him to be.”

Frustratedly, she runs a hand through her hair, gesturing vaguely. “It’s hard to explain, but he…he’s good, Yuri. He’s good. All those years stuck in a cave, all the trials the Tower ran him through, all that death and backstabbing and grieving that they make the Regulars practically eat and breathe  —  he fought through it purely by his own merit, and still, nothing's broken him of it. I can’t understand it myself.” 

Aguero murmurs to no one in particular, looking bewildered herself. “… It’s dazzling, honestly.” It only lasts a heartbeat, but there’s a heat to her entire bearing, an unexpected intensity, and it looks a lot like hope.

“He’s going to flip this Tower on its goddamned head, just you wait. He’ll need someone to watch his back when he does.” She smiles again, sharp and secretive — and it leaves Yuri reeling from the whiplash, this girl — who suddenly looks more like sunlight on new snow, like devotion underneath domed ceilings and glass sculptures praising unshakable belief, than the glacial stoicism of her bloodline. “The Regulars are supposed to form teams, right? I intend to be his light-bearer.”

“A-aha…I see it now. You’re crazy,” offers Yuri, more weakly than she would prefer. She thinks she can see the bigger picture now. She isn’t sure whether she likes it or not.

… So it’s his love you’re after. Do you think it’ll make you happy?

“I’ve got it all planned out, of course. I had a quick chat with Headon about starting fresh as well, so the Ranker rules shouldn’t apply to me.” It shouldn’t be possible to make throwing away your life so easy, so fulfilling, but Khun Aguero does it somehow, conviction radiating firmly from her entirety. She laughs, bright and determined. “We’re gonna give the floors so much hell, Yuri.”

“As for being a princess,” she continues, “I have a couple of ideas as to making sure no one looks too closely. That’s a secret, though.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” Aguero shoots her a mild look, and it’s the end of that discussion. She flicks her fingers with impatience. But one last question still burns a hole in Yuri’s chest, the one that hadn’t actually been answered, and she can’t let the other girl leave without a proper response. If she does, there won’t be a second chance.

The first hints of day yawn loomingly across the horizon. Shades of carnation and marigold, thin and pale, send tendrils of light across the sky. In just a few more minutes, the stars will disappear, eclipsed by their vibrance. And Aguero will be gone, gone, another name to be struck from the records. 

After all their years of friendship, this is where the line gets drawn. It’s a little lonely, if she thinks about it. Yuri steels herself. A younger, less jaded girl might have asked Aguero to reconsider. But regardless of whatever answer she would have been given, it’s not the one she needs to know right now.

No regrets now, Aguero.

Princess Yuri Jahad looks the defector in the eye, feeling fully well the pride and colossal pressure of her status. Bending the rules has never, ever seemed so daunting before. Maybe the weight thudding cold in her chest is her grief. Maybe, she thinks sheepishly, it’s her jealousy. She wouldn’t be surprised if it were all of the above, and more than just her own fair share of the bitterness. 

Believe it or not, she has been a princess for a very, very long time. The other girls would want to know the same.

It’s with hushed longing that she opens her mouth again, one last piece of idle gossip. With resentment, for countless eras spent in solitude and misplaced spite; loneliness, for every generation of lost, loveless young women. Every missed opportunity, every broken dream, every petty, contrived falling-out. She’s old enough to remember most of the worst. Aguero is escaping their shiny little showcase of a birdcage, at the price of losing everything else.

Please, she thinks desperately. Let her be right, this time. This is one of their sisters, after all. They must not have another Anaak Jahad.

“...Aguero. He’s worth it?” she repeats. 

Khun Aguero Agnis steeples her fingers against her chin, staring forward. The sun rises ahead of them, unrelenting and pure, and the light catches on her face and draws it all out in ferocious streaks of gold.

��Yes,” she answers. “He is.”

[mostfacinorous]

Stoki Whumptober Day 30: Now where did that come from?  (sorry it’s so late! I made it long to help make up for it.) [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9][10][11][12][13][14][15][16][17][18][19][20][21][22][23][24][25][26][27][28][29]

Steve stayed abed for three days-- the longest, Loki was told, and by him no less,  that he’d ever followed orders to relax for, and then only because Loki came down to spend the time with him. 

If the other Avengers found this odd, they did not say as much to either Loki or Steve, and if they would have preferred their time alone with Steve during their visits, Loki would have been quick to go-- save that none asked. 

And so, over the course of three days, he found himself in a myriad of odd social interactions with people he’d tried to kill or manipulate, and was surprised at how… simple it was. Easy. 

There was some tension still, of course; none of them would pretend there wasn’t. However, the suspicion he’d expected, the derision or outright hatred? That was nowhere to be found. They were cautious, but varying levels of polite. 

The widow was witty and interesting to talk to. She challenged him to a game of chess that he very much looked forward to, and Steve joked again about their combined likelihood of wrecking the rest of the team in any competition due to unfair mental advantage. 

Barton came to visit, bringing pizza with him, and they broke bread and had beer, and while he was a touch skittish, it seemed that Steve’s presence had a calming effect on both he and Loki. 

Banner came to check on Steve with his own medical knowledge, and to be certain that nothing was going awry, no bones mending improperly or anything. Not, he insisted, that he doubted Loki’s knowledge, but simply for his own peace of mind. 

He and Loki and Steve had ended up discussing differing medical techniques from each of their own homes- Steve’s being so far in the past that half of it was forgotten, like, apparently, telling asthmatics to smoke for the good of their lungs, and forcing anemics to eat large helpings of offal to help their iron levels. In addition, Loki learned that Steve’s mother was a healer in his youth, which, Loki thought, explained much of his urge to help others and save those who needed saving.

Loki was more familiar with herbal and magical remedies, and though Banner insisted repeatedly that he wasn’t that kind of doctor, his knowledge of modern science based medical practices was fairly impressive. 

And while clearly they all wondered where this was going, only Stark and Barnes were so bold as to ask directly. 

Separately, of course, but with an amusingly similar lack of tact. 

“So uh-- you guys hooked up on your little time adventure?” Stark asked, during a lull in his questions about the power outage and its cause. Loki would have spluttered had he not been trained in how to hide responses from years in court. 

Steve on the other hand, had been in the process of drinking, and he genuinely choked on the water in his mouth. 

Loki was up in an instant, patting him on the back and glaring at Stark, who raised his hands defensively. 

“Just saying, you come back and you can’t seem to get enough of one another. You can’t blame a guy for wondering.”

“We did not hook up, we nearly died, repeatedly!” Steve protested, his face glowing red under the scrutiny.

“So that’s a no?” Stark asked, looking to Loki for confirmation.

“Stark, our lack of sex lives is really none of your concern. I care for the Captain, which I think is your real question. Beyond that-- we shall see.” Loki glanced at Steve to make sure he hadn’t overstepped, and found such adoration on his face that for a moment, it took Loki’s breath away. 

“Oh. Yeah, well, alright.” Stark seemed taken aback, but recovered quickly. “I feel like I should… you know, give you a minute.” He got up and made his way to the door, and Loki followed him.

“I promise you, Stark, he is in good hands.” Loki said softly. 

Stark shook his head. “I don’t doubt it. And call me Tony. Have you talked to your brother?” 

Loki looked away. “I do not imagine he would take so kindly to this news.” Loki hedged, speaking softer still. “And I do not believe he wishes to see me.”

Tony shrugged. “I get it. I won’t say anything. But it might be worth seeing if you can fix the family drama. Family’s kinda important to Steve, after all-- I imagine he’ll want you to try, too.”

Loki felt a wave of anxious nausea hit him at that, but he just nodded and closed the door behind Stark. 

He hadn’t even made it back to Steve’s room when the next knock came, and Barnes let himself in shortly after, not waiting for Loki to answer. 

Barnes looked Loki up and down, crossed his arms, and met his eyes dead on. 

“You and Stevie an item now?” He asked, point blank.

Loki sighed. 

“Your people have so many ways to ask this question. I care for him a great deal, yes.” 

“Buck? Stop harassing my guy and get in here.” Steve called from the other room, and that was that. 

Barnes was far more interested in the stone, and the stories of the effects of it that Loki had suffered. 

He seemed, grudgingly, to accept that long jumps were a bad idea, and that something like remaking his past was… perhaps not the greatest of plans. Especially given that he was closer to whatever Steve was than what Loki was, and he couldn’t handle it near so well. 

He left, with much to mull over, and Loki relaxed into the idea that the stone might, at last, be safe.

---

At length, even Loki had to admit that Steve was well again. He healed fast and he needed no more rest-- he was back at the top of his abilities. 

Which meant it was time to have their conversation, despite having had parts of it through others. 

“So. You care for me, huh?” Steve asked, grinning. 

Loki felt his anxiousness bubbling rapidly to a boil within him. 

“I should hope that was fairly obvious.” He said quietly, carefully not looking Steve in the eye. 

“It is. It’s just nice to hear.” Steve assured him. “Because I feel the same.” 

Loki smiled and looked up, then.

“So, where does that leave us?” 

“Not enemies, I hope.” Steve started, and Loki laughed. 

“No, hardly that.”

“Would you consider-- in my time, we called it going steady. Now I guess it’s just… dating?”

“Is that the same as courtship?” 

Steve flushed at that, and Loki smirked a little, charmed. 

“Yeah, uh, I guess it’s similar.” 

“Good. Then I would like to declare my intent to court you, Steve Rogers. If you’ll have me.” 

“Oh, uh yeah. I don’t… know what courtship entails, but yeah, I’ll have you. And um, if you’ll show me how, I want to do the same. Court you, I mean.” Steve was adorably flustered, and it made Loki feel a little steadier on his feet. He stepped forward and took Steve’s hand. 

“On Asgard, it’s gifts. Treasures and prizes won, deeds done in your name. It’s a matter of proving oneself worthy of the person they love, and making their partner feel wanted and adored.” 

“Oh.” Steve said quietly. “That’s uh, nice, but you don’t have to buy me gifts.” 

Loki tilted his head, then nodded. 

“I’ll prove myself in deeds, then. And to that end, I would invite you to consider me, if not part of your team, at least at your disposal, if I can be of help in any matter that affects you or your friends.” Loki paused, then added,  “So long as it doesn’t involve my using the damned timestone again.” 

Steve cracked a smile at that, though he looked like he was thinking very hard. 

“Is there anything in particular that you can think of you’d like from me?” He asked, sounding the most timid that Loki thought he’d been for this entire conversation. 

Loki squeezed his hands reassuringly and lifted a finger to his lips in a pretense of thinking. “Hmm.” He said. “I can think of one thing, right now.” 

Steve seemed to perk up a bit at that, endearingly eager to please. 

“What’s that?” He asked. 

“Kiss me?” Loki responded, trying not to feel too shy or embarrassed for asking. 

However, Steve seemed entirely happy to oblige. 

It was a little clumsy, as if Steve had had little experience, but that was hardly a problem; by the time they pulled apart, Loki was panting a little and Steve had turned an incredibly fetching shade of pink. 

They rested their foreheads together for a moment and just held one another.

It was an altogether perfect start.

--

And so it was that, a day or two later, when the Avengers were called out to do some world saving mission, Loki found himself following Steve to board the quinjet and report for duty. 

He was stopped, though, with a powerful grip on his shoulder holding him back. 

He turned to find himself face to face with Thor, and swallowed. 

He’d been so happy with Steve, he had fully forgotten his once-brother was still on Midgard. 

“Thor.” He greeted, cautiously but trying for politeness.

“Whatever this game is, abandon it now and return to whatever cave you crawled from.” Thor was stern and his voice thunderous with threats unspoken. 

“Thor.” Steve’s, on the other hand, was commanding, and Loki looked up to see him at the top of the steps, one hand on the body of the quinjet. “Loki offered to help us. Same as you. Don’t endanger the team with your drama. That stays here, or you do.” 

“I?” Thor asked, shocked that he should be benched in a competition between he and Loki. 

It made butterflies flit through Loki’s stomach. 

“You’re the only one who seems to have a problem with working with him.” Steve said simply, and Loki realized that was true. Even Barton seemed to be coming around; albeit on his own time.

Thor, clearly annoyed, brushed past Loki to board the quinjet, stopping beside Steve to drop a heavy hand on his shoulder. 

“I hope,” Thor said lowly, “That you know what you are doing. Not everyone deserves redemption.” 

Steve turned his head to look him square in the eye. “Everyone who wants redemption should be allowed to claim it.” Steve said, loudly enough for it to carry to both Loki and everyone inside. 

Thor shook his head, but entered the plane with no further words, and Steve deplaned to take Loki’s hand in his. 

“Are you alright?” He asked quietly. 

In honesty, Loki was shaking. But he pushed it down and refused to let Steve know how affected he was. He didn’t want to be left behind for it. “I am. Let’s go save your people.” He squeezed Steve’s hand, then dropped it to board their transport. 

--

It was a fast ship, as fast if not faster than an Asgardian vessel, and it landed them at their destination less than two hours after they left. 

“We’re about an hour outside of Lakhimpur, near the Ghaghara river.” The widow explained. “There are reports that SHIELD vehicles have been spotted around here-- Fury, however, didn’t send them, and doesn’t have any record of missing assets, which means we’re probably dealing with Hydra. And, it seems they are taking hostages, mostly in the medtech field. We’re going to find them, free them, and put a stop to whatever Hydra’s doing. And, on the off chance it has anything to do with samples they took from Steve…” She trailed off and looked from Loki to Barnes, “We have two experts on destroying that present.” 

“Thanks, Nat.” Steve said, standing up. “We’re not too concerned about being quiet. I don’t want any innocent deaths, if we can avoid it, and no harming any landmarks, if they’ve taken over anything that might be culturally important. This isn’t our country, let’s be respectful. Everything else, though? Anything that Hydra is proud of? I wanna see it go up in smoke.” 

There was a shared expression of pleasure at that, and Loki noted that Thor was, again, staring at him. He kept his eyes on Steve. 

“Okay, so, we’ve got sightings on this road here,” Steve pointed on the map,”that leads into the trees. Locals who have tried to see where they go have not returned. My thought is to stage an ambush, steal a vehicle, work our way into the compound in disguise, and destroy them from the inside out. But, we could use a distraction, to get everyone scurrying. So, once we have the car, I want Tony and Thor overhead to give them something to focus on and something to fight. Stay out of range if possible, but draw their attention away from us on the ground while we get the lay of the land.” 

Tony and Thor nodded. 

“Bruce, Nat, Clint, you three are together once we get inside. I want you to get to the medical labs. Nat, get whatever you can off of their machines, and then wipe them, as fast as possible. You three have some Hindu and some Urdu between you, so you should be able to talk to the hostages. I want you to head up evac for the civilians. Loki, Bucky and I will handle the higher ups. And then on my signal, Tony, Thor, Bruce, feel free to tear it to the ground.”

“I like this plan.” Tony said, intentionally overly chipper, and there were scattered nods throughout the ship. 

--

The plan went mostly as it was laid out. They took down the soldiers in the car and climbed aboard, Barton, Bruce, and Natasha donning their clothing and Steve, Loki, and Bucky hiding in the back. 

Loki could hear the sounds of thunder just as they crossed the bridge that led up to the building their car had been headed towards, and the distracted Hydra guards let them in in a hurry. 

Once parked, they split up to see to their assigned tasks. 

Loki used his trick of diverting the eyes of onlookers, so that Steve, Bucky and he were all but invisible. They made their way deeper and higher up in the building, watching where the more decorated soldiers emerged from, and following that path. 

The first problem arose when it became clear that some of the civilians were being held here, close to the officers, and not down with the others that Natasha, Bruce, and Barton were meant to be getting out. 

“I’ll take them.” Barnes offered, once he’d broken the neck of one of the men guarding the cell, and Loki had buried a knife in the throat of the other. 

Loki was quick to agree; though he had the Allspeak, he was loathe to leave Steve on his own, particularly after what a similar group had done to him. 

So he spoke to the people inside, learned that they were the missing doctors, and told them that he was here with the Avengers, and the man with the metal arm would be leading them to safety. 

“Just get them down to the other group, if you can-- I don’t want you trying to take them all out on your own. Meet up and help the others, so you have someone on your six.”

Barnes snapped off a sarcastic looking little salute. 

“Yes sir, captain sir.” Barnes said, and Steve huffed and rolled his eyes, but smiled. 

“How long have you known him?” Loki asked as they continued moving deeper into the Hydra hold. 

“My whole life, really, save the part where we were on ice or brainwashed, respectively.” 

Loki shook his head. 

“It is a strange life you’ve led, my captain. Stranger than most.” 

They found the room that was home to those in a position of command, and found them all on phones or huddled around visual feeds of Thor and Tony, raining down annoyance on them from above. 

“But why?” One was saying. “They could be destroying us, why are they toying with us?” 

“Because,” Said one man, who looked distinctly unlike the rest. Something about him reminded Loki of Barnes, when they’d first met. He was standing very straight, coiled and ready to spring, and he all but vibrated with barely contained power. Most importantly, he was looking directly at Steve and Loki. “Their friends are inside.” 

Loki darted forward, immediately placing himself between the man and Steve, which proved to be a good decision. The man pulled out a throwing knife and Loki caught it, reversing it and throwing it back towards him. It landed, and he pulled it from his shoulder and let it fall to the ground as if it was no more bothersome than a fly.

“Steve, take care of the rest, they still have a hard time seeing you!” Loki instructed, squaring off against this one.

The man lunged forward, one hand still holding a knife, which he brought up and under Loki’s ribs, but Loki blocked it-- the blade bouncing harmlessly off of his bracer. The man’s other hand was empty but the fist that made contact with the side of Loki’s head may as well have been concrete. 

Loki’s vision blacked out briefly, and he felt himself get stabbed in the side, but it didn’t seem to have done much damage. When he could see properly again, he wrested the knife free of the man and caught his arms in Loki’s own, turning it into a test of sheer strength. 

And the man was strong-- stronger than a run of the mill human. 

“He’s been modified!” Loki yelled for Steve’s benefit, the words coming out strained as he spoke through his teeth. 

“I understand I have you to thank!” the man told Loki. “You left him, and they made me from part of him.” 

Loki snarled and took the man’s legs out from under him, landing neatly atop his chest and pinning his arms with Loki’s knees. 

“Shame it took you so long to find us; there’re dozens of men like me, now. Cut off one head--” 

Loki felt another body crash into his back, but he stayed focused on the man beneath him. Loki summoned another of his knives-- the longer ones for close range fights, this time-- and slid it home through his trachea. 

The man fell back and was no more. 

Loki turned his attention, then, to the body that had fallen on him-- it was not Steve, which was all that mattered. 

He found Steve at a bank of computers, holding a dead man’s hand to a fingerprint reader. 

“A good trick.” Loki commented, as he sidled up to him. “I’m afraid I have some bad news, though.” He said, nodding at the man he’d taken out. “It seems we did not get every sample.” 

Steve set his jaw. 

“Yeah, I’m seeing that. Jesus-- there’s four of them here. We have to warn the others.” 

Loki nodded, and watched as Steve inserted a drive into the computer, which then went to work, downloading files and leaving its own behind. 

Loki used the communications device he’d been given. 

“In case you’ve not run into them yet, there are soldiers as strong as Steve here. Three of them, at least.” 

“Fuck!” he heard from Barton, and Steve shook his head but got the drive removed as all of the screens around him began to malfunction. 

“Buck, you with the main group?” 

“I’m here, the civilians have all been rounded up, according to them we got everyone. On our way out to the car now.” 

“Great.” Steve answered. 

“Bruce, you wanna go join Tony and Thor, maybe get a little green?” 

“On it.” 

“As soon as everyone’s clear, I want this place reduced to rubble.” 

Steve said over the intercom, before cutting his mic. 

“Then let’s get ourselves out of here.” Loki said. “Here, I’ll lead-- just in case they send more of those soldiers our way. I can put up a shield that covers more than yours.”

Steve smiled. 

“Real glad you’re on our side, now.” He told Loki shortly, and dropped a quick peck to his lips. “Let’s go.” 

Loki did as he said he would, erecting a shield and leading them to safety. They did not encounter the advanced soldiers, which he considered a mixed blessing, and by the time they gained the outside of the compound, the Hydra troops were attempting to fall back. 

They let them, checked in with Natasha, and gave the destruction crew the all clear. 

Without a car, and with the Quinjet parked on the other side of the wooded area, that meant they were on foot. But at least the company was pleasant, and the enemy was distracted. 

“Not bad for a first outing.” Steve said, but his attempt at joviality sounded pinched. 

“We will find the rest of these advanced soldiers.” Loki promised him, guessing at what was bothering him.

“Yeah, we’re going to have to.” Steve ran a hand through his hair, still looking distressed, and Loki reached out for him, taking his hand and marveling again at the warmth of him, and how well they fit together. 

The adrenaline was starting to wear off, and he could see it in the slant of Steve’s shoulders. He leaned in and kissed him, really kissed him, this time, no quick mid-battle peck, and Steve pulled him in close. 

When they broke apart, Loki was light headed, and Steve was looking besotted. He reached up to push some of Loki’s hair behind his ear, and froze. 

Steve stumbled backwards, and Loki saw why: his hand was covered in blood. 

Loki twisted and twitched aside the cape that was sticking to his side, only to see the knife wound he’d forgotten about earlier. 

“Ah.” He said. 

The lightheadedness, it turned out, was perhaps at least partially due to blood loss. 

“I’ll be fine,” he assured Steve, pressing his hand to his own side with the bloody cape to put pressure on the wound. 

And then, from the trees, the three missing soldier attacked, as if they had smelled his weakness. 

“Awh, shit.” Loki heard Steve say, just before something was shoved over his head, and he was knocked unconscious.

[yoimeta]

Hi everyone! I noticed recently that the "KAZAKHSTAN 101 OR HOW TO OTABEK" post seems to have been taken off of tumblr? The author's whole blog seems to have been wiped. Do you know if this is archived anywhere? Is there a mirror, say, on Ao3?

Hello!

Thankfully, I managed to find what I believe is the original post. Here it is! The post is archived in plain text under the cut.

Hope this helps!

- Ji

Source: @sawyer-aik

KAZAKHSTAN 101 OR HOW TO OTABEK

THERE YOU GO YURI ON ICE FANDOM.

Disclaimer: this is in no way a fully comprehensive guide. This is just me trying to put together basics for people who are unfamiliar with Kazakhstan/Kazakhs to start their writing/research.

I am an ethnic Kazakh female, citizen of Kazakhstan, Almaty, bisexual, upper middle class, currently in college in the US. My experience is in no way representative of all kazakhs and Kazakhstan citizens. However, I think it’s pretty close to Otabek’s.

This is really, really long and kinda convoluted, but if you can bear it –– welcome!

Name: Many people have talked about Otabek’s name. This is how you shorten it –– “Bek”, “Beka”, or “Beks” if you wanna be really familiar and laid back.

Kazakhs don’t have middle names, we have patronymics. They are formed like this: the father’s name + ‘uly’ if the child is a boy or ‘kyzy’ is the child is a girl. For example, Otabek’s childrens’ patronymics would be Otabekuly and Otabekkyzy.

About Almaty and almatinians: Ok I’m so happy Otabek is from Almaty, I really don’t know much about life in other cities or rural areas. Almatinians rarely do. Comparing Almaty lifestyle to the rest of Kazakhstan is the same as comparing NYC to the rest of America –– it’s not representative of the quality of life in the country, like, at all.

Almaty has 2.5+ million population, and it grows every year. It’s a cultural and economic centre of the country. Apples originate from Almaty (!!!), hence the name from “Alma” –– apple. Almatinians are usually stereotyped as fast, brash and snobby –– kinda like New Yorkers, right? Almaty is much more tolerant and progressive, and also more ‘Western’ than the rest of the country in terms of mindset. Almatinians kinda look down on non-Almatinians, and really dislike the capital Astana because of all the funding and attention it gets.

Almaty has a great ethnic diversity –– main groups are Kazakhs, Russians, Uygur, Koreans, Germans, Jews, Uzbek, and many more. Though stereotypical jokes are generally acceptable, outright hate and discrimination against an ethnic group is not tolerated. Many foreigners visit here for business –– mostly Americans, Western Europeans and Chinese.

Almatinians love: coffeeshops, mall sales, cool cars (Hello Otabek’s motorcycle), smoking hukkah and vaping. They are usually concerned with status and try to show off their wealth. You can see people of all kind of different style and background in Almaty, fashion shows are held there, contemporary art and indie-music congregates there, along with all kinds of fancy ass crowd. It is a really interesting and kinda exhausting scene, especially if you are young and wanna have fun.

Language, culture, food, etc.

As an Almatinian Kazakh, Otabek is definitely fluent in both Russian and Kazakh, and probably has a very good grasp on English. He is a master of shala kazakh. Shala kazakh is a magic language that only city Kazakhs are privy to. It’s basically a wild mix of kazakh, russian and some fashionable english slang thrown in there. It’s usual for me to start a conversation with “OMG bro” and then kinda pull my speech together, substituting kazakh and russian words with each other and pepper it with “cool”, “ok” and other english exclamations. It’s not grammatically correct and is kinda lowbrow, but we all do it. Yes, even our parents. This is how Otabek sounds when he is talking to someone from home. Terrifying.

Nuclear family: City Kazakhs usually have two or three kids. That’s less than people have in rural areas. Children are important in Kazakh culture because they carry the family’s bloodline and history, especially boys. If you headcanon Otabek as having brothers and sisters, you are probably right! His family should be at least sort of wealthy to afford all the expenses of having a professional athlete for a child. Otabek has an expensive bike and his clothes look high-end –– he is definitely not poor.

Family in general. Kazakhs are close, VERY CLOSE to their family. Mind you, family is not just parents and siblings but also your grandparents, aunts and uncles and like all 173 cousins and nieces and nephews. Everyone is ridiculously involved in your life, always there with advice and complaints. You stay connected to your parents when you move out, when you get married, when you have kids, when you DIE. When Otabek misses the weekly skype dates or check-in phone calls, HE IS SHAMED SO HARD. Do you know grandma is worried about you, think about how old she is! Otabek’s relatives brag about his achievements like they moved him up the career ladder personally, with their own two hands. There’s nothing Otabek can really do about it tho he gets annoyed

Food: city Kazakhs have a very diverse cuisine. Traditional kazakh food is like 50% batter and 50% meat and takes long ass time to prepare so we reserve it for the holidays. My family loves fish, russian dishes such as borsht and blini, Uzbek lagman, Korean kimchi tho we try to avoid pork. And it’s not like we choose one day as a “Russian cuisine day”, we just kinda??? Deside to have some borsht today?? Almaty has lots of different restaurants, almatinians love sushi, pizza and pasta, shashlyk, all kinds of experimental foods and trying new things. Kumys –– mare’s milk –– is one of the things you should try in Kazakhstan as a turist, but I know many kazakhs who have never had it or don’t like it. They say it’s really good for you tho.

Holidays: ethnic Kazakhs in Kazakhstan celebrate: birthdays, New Years, Eid al-Adha which we call Kurban Bairam, Independence Day on December 16th and Nauryz on March 22nd. Young people kinda have get togethers on Halloween because it’s fun and a reason to hang out. Nauryz is one of my faves, it’s a pagan holiday of coming of spring and new life. On Nauryz, Almaty is adorned with flowers, yurts and giant swings are set on the city square, people wear traditional clothing and dance and play and eat a lot. My family also ended up celebrating Eastern Orthdox Christmas and Easter because each year our Russian friends invite us to hang out and celebrate with them, lol.

LGBTQIA+

Main principle is “Don’t ask, don’t tell”. General conflict avoidance protocols are in place. I personally know like 3 LGBT friendly hubs/clubs in Almaty. Nobody explicitly says “gay clubs” but people just kinda know what and where those are. There are get togethers and meetings you can attend to meet people, you can hang out with your significant other in public, hug, hold hands and no one would probably say anything. Colleges and universities are generally safe places, many of my friends are out in their college and don’t face any trouble. PDA will be frowned upon, but all PDA is generally frowned upon in Kazakhstan, even hetero. Feminist and sex-positive initiatives try to educate the populace and break the status quo, and are doing really well but the government’s disposition is homophobic. If your family is religious or traditional, they probably wouldn’t go as far as disowning you, but will probably pressure and guilt-trip you. LGBT+ youth generally plan to move somewhere else or just not settle. All of this is Almaty situation tho. Being LGBT in rural area is much more dangerous.

THE BEST PART: VOCABULARY

Ok this is what I find to be the easiest way to explain Kazakh to English speakers: think Turkish but written in cyrillic, with words borrowed from Arabic and Russian.

Endearments:

zhanym, жаным: my soul. Zhanym is everything to a Kazakh. You can use it for your family, friends, SO, I called my laptop zhanym today. It can be flirty, it can be serious. If you need Otabek to be affectionate with someone, use zhanym.

ainalaiyn, айналайын: really hard to translate but something like my precious?? Usually used towards small kids, but also if a Kazakh finds something really cute.

altynym, my golden baby. I love this one for obvious reasons, lol, hi, Otabek.

Mahabbatym, махаббатым, my love +

Suiktim, сүйіктім. my love, my dear. Kinda old fashioned but really romantic. I can see Otabek using this, but he will be teased and called an old sap if he does.

Kazakh have a lot more endearments, but most of them are for children.

Basic interaction and exclamations:

Iya. Ия. Yes.

Zhok. Жоқ. No

Rakhmet. Рахмет. Thank you.

Keshir. Кешір. Sorry.

Salem, Сәлем. Hello. A familiar greeting.

Sau bol, Сау бол. Literally “Be well” but actually means goodbye. Pretty familiar too.

O Kudai, О Құдай/O Allah, О Алла! Oh my god, obviously. Used in all kinds of different situations.

Oibai, Ойбай! How does one explain oibai. When a friend jump scares you, when you receive bad news, when you check your bank account –– oibai!

Abai bol, Абай бол. Be careful, is what your mom tells you when you go out.

Expletives and Swear Words. Yeeaaah the juicy stuff.

Zhyndy, Жынды. Crazy. If someone is being stupid or inappropriate, you call them zhyndy. When you tell a dumb joke at the familty table, mom smacks you upside the head and hisses “Ooooi, zhyndy!” When Jean-Jaques is acting a fool and makes out with his reflection, Otabek rolls his eyes and mutters “Zhyndy”.

Akymak. Ақымақ. Idiot. When someone is just dumb and not worth your time.

Ittin balasy. Иттің баласы. Child of a dog. It can be as harmless as “you pup” and as offensive as “son of a bitch” depending on the situation.

Kotindy kys. Көтіңді қыс. Squeeze you ass. God I love this one. When someone being an obnoxious wannabe, tell them they should squeeze their ass and check themselves.

Jean-Jaques: I am gonna be the King of the Grand Prix!

Otabek: Kotindy kys.

Shygasyn ba?! Шығасың ба?! You wanna go bro?! Ohh, someone is gonna catch these Kazakh fists.

Sigil. Сігіл. Basically go fuck yourself.

Sheshen ahmy/Sheshen sigem. Шешең амы/Шешең сігем. Your mother’s c*nt/Imma fuck your mother. REALLY FUCKING OFFENSIVE. Say this to a Kazakh if you have a death wish.

——————————————————————————————-

AND THEEEEEEERE YOU GO.

Again, this is just the basics. Do more research and talk to as many Kazakhs and Kazakhstani people as you can. We are a different but usually an interesting bunch. Thanks for your attention, Sawyer out!

[lucastheunlucky]

Who Made Who | Luke&Blanche

Time Frame: Current Who: Blanche & Luke Possible Triggers: Body horror Location: Strawford Park Summary: Luke has been seeing a ghost around him and Blanche offers to help work out where she might be buried. Going back to the mass grave where he was disposed of a few years ago, causes her to lash out. She finally shows her face, and the horrors of exactly who she is and who hurt her.  

Blanche pulled her yellow jeep into Strawford Park’s parking lot with a low sigh, sliding into the parking space. She was overly prepared, as per usual. Some might call her paranoid, and they’d be right, but she had seen far too much to not be. She had enough salt in her bag to kill a baby moose, as well a small iron rod, wards, taser, mace, and acid mace. Probably a bit of overkill, but if she was going to be ghost hunting - sorta - with Lucas, then it was better to be overly prepared than not at all. Swinging her backpack on her back, she locked her car and stuffed her keys into her back pocket, walking up to Strawford Park’s gates, immediately tensing. Cemeteries were always haunted, she could feel the spirits lingering inside, and she winced as she lingered outside, waiting for Lucas. She felt him before she saw him, feeling the presence of a ghost coming ath er from a different direction, and she looked up from staring at her shoes and waved. “Hey!” she called, “What’s up? How are you feeling? Any better?”

So Lucas had only one goal in mind with all this-- and it didn’t actually involve him. ‘Do not, under any fucking circumstance, have Blanche get hurt.’ There was nothing else that mattered to him, because answers could always be found in other ways, and there wasn’t a super rush. Even with this ghost-- well-- it wasn’t good, but Lucas could handle it. He waved at Blanche, her smaller stature, backpack, and youthful energy making Lucas concerned already for her safety. “Hey there, Blanche,” he gave a soft smile, and sighed a bit. “I’m feeling a bit sick, but I’m good though. You have some gear on you, stuff to help with ghosts?” He asked, pushing the gate open, and looking out at the gravesite with a thump in his throat. “It's just on the edge, back I think-- better to not walk the middle, yeah?”

“A bit sick?” Blanche’s brows knit together in concern almost immediately. This was why she had wanted to go alone. In theory, the hard part was done, Lucas already knew where the grave was. She walked with him through the gates, grimacing slightly as she nodded. “Yeah, good idea. I - sometimes I have a nasty habit of drawing spirits to me. Something about my aura or something,” Blanche said with a shrug, “So staying away from most of them would be most appreciated. But I do have stuff in my bag that’ll help,” she patted her backpack slightly. “Iron, salt, wards,  you know, the usual.” After a moment, she paused and looked at him, concerned once again. “Here, we can go slow, okay? Are you sure you’re up for this”

Lucas chuckled, trying to keep his tone calm and slightly teasing. “Blanche, I don’t know what the usual is for ghosts, so I’m going to have to take your word for it. I’m not the type to grab weapons.” He’d have to remember that though, any new information on supernaturals wasn’t the worst to have. So the ghosts were attracted to her in a bad way, this put a frown on his lips, glad he hadn’t let her come alone. “Listen, if this goes sideways, I want you to come with my brother next time. There’s never a need to have shit like this bother you so aggressively alone.” He almost let out an annoyed growl, but it stopped in his throat. At her pause he looked back. “Of course, I know this seems grim and I don’t feel the best, but what if it helps? If we both feel like we need to turn around-- we will. Want a code word? Something we can just shout and we run like our ma’am’s have a wooden spoon and we’re on our last warning?” 

“Oh, I am,” Blanche said automatically, with a shrug. “The type to grab weapons, I mean.” She thought back to when she and Winston went to look at the cursed chest on the beach, going to snap photos and kill Karknoids. The back seat of her old, shitty car had been full of bats, bricks, wasp spray, and anything else she could find. She was a bit more prepared now. “Salt and iron are usually good for ghosts, though. I have wards on me in case I have to ward anything off while I’m here. But I don’t think anything’s going to go sideways.” At least, she hoped not. She let out a low sigh as she rubbed the back of her neck. “Your brother?” She frowned, not sure she liked the idea of that. Blanche wasn’t even sure coming here with Lucas was a good idea for Lucas’ safety, she didn’t want something bad to happen to his brother too. “If he’s alright with that. Does he know about this?” They continued walking, Blanche letting out a low laugh. “A code word? Like we’re spies or something? Do you think we’ll need something like that instead of just saying, Zoinks Scoob, let’s get the hell outta here?”

“Yeah, he will know. I don’t keep anything from him anymore, and he’s in search and rescue, he will be able to help out if we can’t find her body,” Lucas easily said. For some reason, while they walked along the edge, steps careful, and both vigilant to their surroundings, he couldn’t help but think about Regan and how she had suggested having a picnic in a graveyard. He internally smiled at that. Weirdo. She was something special. As they moved, Lucas felt the hair on his arms rise up, and he cracked his neck as it grew stiff, the muscles feeling heavier along his shoulders and making his body groan a little against itself. “Yes, Zoinks, please say that,” he said quietly. He glanced at his phone at the rough map, but in reality, he kinda knew where it was now that he was here. His memory was broken up from the day he was put here, hazy like they were echoes of moments over what actually happened. “Shit,” he glanced down when a surprise of pain made his chest suddenly ache and a wave of dizziness hit him. 

Blanche hated graveyards, always had. Whenever her parents would drag her and her little brother to see their great grandparents when they were small. Blanche would scream her head off, even though she was supposed to be the older, more mature one. Her screaming would set her brother off and it would always end with their father snarling at them to stop causing a scene and to behave. After a few failed times, they stopped going. Except Blanche never did stop seeing ghosts. “I can keep my old cartoon references going, if you want. Yabbadabbadoo,” Blanche snorted to herself, shaking her head. The spirit’s presence coming off of Lucas became stronger all of a sudden, causing her to pause as gravel crunched under her sneakers. She turned to look at him. “Lucas?” Blanche asked. Spots of blood were appearing on his shirt. He was hurt? What? “Lucas! Your shirt! Your skin - What - what’s happening? Are you okay?!”

Luke didn’t want to blame the ghost, even if it wanted to hurt him. It wasn’t her fault she died. It was Gotch’s. A low sound vibrated in his chest in a growl. “Yeah--,” he said. “I just felt suddenly sideways, vertigo, tired.” As he finished speaking the familiar southern drawl carried through the graveyard and his heart stopped for two beats before it started into a fumbling race that sent a tremble to his fingertips. ‘Another person with you? So comfortable.’ Lucas refused to look towards where it came from because he knew he wasn’t in town. He’d not heal from losing an arm that fast. “I don’t know what’s happening.” 

“She’s what?” Blanche gaped at him. And then she saw her appear before her eyes and Blanche stumbled back eyes wide. This was no girl - well, it was a girl, but it wasn’t quite how it should have been. She was instantly reminded of Lauren Langley’s true form, with intestines spilling out of her body. This was different. The girl was half formed into a wolf, bones bent and broken at odd angles, strange animalistic features and tufts of fur stretched over her skin. The streaked on her face from the large bullet hole in her inhuman skull. Blanche stared in horror, shaking slightly as her stomach churned dangerously.  No, she had a job to do. She could be sick later. Come on. She could do this. She swung her bag off her shoulder. “Lucas?” Blanche said. “It’s okay. She’s here and she’s trying to stop you.” Blanche forced some semblance of calm into her voice. “Let him go!” Blanche commanded. “We’re trying to help you. Let him go.” 

Stop him. Why? ‘Wouldn’t you want to be free of this suffering?’ The disjointed voice carried through him, and Lucas staggered into a standstill when Blanche tried to speak calmly to something behind him. When he laid at night, his nightmares were mostly seeing his packmates taken away, cut up, beheaded, but also it was this shadow of a monster that lurked in the very furthest points of his vision and whispered to end it. It’s always been this way for him. He’s been terrorized too long by Gotch. His voice would always lurk. Luke starred forward, determined to keep the feeling from scaring him, though his body creaked gently in want to defend himself. “She wants me to stop,” he swallowed thickly, taking a few more steps. He blinked a few more times, refusing to believe what he was hearing, the words kept slipping by, but it ached all of him. “Fuck--” his pulse increased. “Blanche-- forward or back?” he asked. 

“Let him go!” Blanche said firmly. She pulled the iron rod from her bag, though she knew the notes she had taken that it wasn’t going to be nearly as effective as she wanted it to be. Oh hell, what was she going to do now. “Lucas, listen to me. Can you hear me. Can you come forward to me?” Blanche asked. Panic was spreading in her body, but she desperately tried to make it go far away. Far, far away. There was a part of her that wished she told Rebecca or Nigel or anyone what exactly she’d be doing today. Mind racing, Blanche had to figure out what she wanted to do now. Go back? No, the longer this thing was attached to his soul meant bad news for Lucas. She didn’t want him to be tormented for that long, he didn’t deserve that. No one deserved that. Could she get the ghost to talk to her? “Look at me!” Blanche demanded. “No you, Lucas. You! The …. Girl. Hello? Can you hear me? Let him go this instant.” Blanche stepped closer to Lucas, almost ready to reach out and yank him towards her. “We want to help you find peace. Don’t you want that? Come on.”

Lucas had amber eyes on her, hair sprouted in places along the highest planes of his arms and knuckles, and he seemed heavier, almost denser as the muscles coiled in tension, but when he looked at her, it was him seeing her with a clear gaze. He refused to have this thing hurt this young woman. Luke could handle it, making him see his worst nightmares even if it made his heart thump at a dangerous pace that stirred him into a wanted shift. He’s been through worse-- he’s suffered so long-- this was nothing. Lucas was a beast with control, and he stepped forward, without restraint, nothing physically holding him back, not that a lot could against a werewolf’s strength. It was what was behind Blanche that made his stomach sour, making it so difficult to stop the paranoia.

‘I want to kill her.’ Gotch smiled and Luke almost shattered, “I can hear you, Velma,” he joked in hopes to not fall into that pitfall, pulling the first name from his pop culture list he could. Blanche’s pulse was high as well, and panic could be easily read and somehow, that was the reassurance he needed to know it was her. “Stay calm,” he took another step. “She has to do a lot to hurt me. I’ve already been to Hell.” The person behind Blanche was Gotch, missing his arm and holding a shotgun at her head. He exhaled and the side of the ghost surfaced just out of his vision near his cheek, her mangled face not the one he always saw but unable to speak from the damage. He took another step. “She hates someone. The one who killed her, it’s all she keeps saying. She keeps showing him to me.”   

Velma. Blanche let out a short laugh that sounded more like some type of high pitched tea kettle noise. “I’m as calm as I’m going to get,” Blanche replied. There was a whispering coming from the ghost that she couldn’t quite hear, and she wondered if it was because she was whispering lowly in Lucas’ ear and not to her. She didn’t want to talk to her - made sense, since Blanche actively wanted to get rid of her. But she also wanted her to find some semblance of peace. The girl would never be able to do that leeching off of people’s souls. She stared at Lucas, examining him closely for a moment. The more responsible part of her, whatever was left of that part, told her to turn back. To abandon this and come back by herself or with his brother. She met his eyes a moment. “She’s showing you things that aren’t real,” Blanche said carefully. After a moment, Blanche held out her hand to him. “Take my hand. We’ll go together, okay?”

“I have fallen for them before,” Lucas admitted, and he still couldn’t look Gotch in the eye, and a small part of him could hear Miles saying it would be extremely tough to face him in all fronts. He had to get better. When Blanche moved, and he took her hand, the illusion broke, the shotgun disappeared and the hallucination dissipated. Lucas stepped forward. His mind ached, like nails carving down his skull to believe it all. That it was real, and Lucas didn’t know if it was because he’d had nightmares for so long that he could navigate this, or because there was light before him-- Blanche’s bravery gave him pride, and appreciation. This was why you didn’t do things alone, right? He squeezed her hand to reassure her and the choice, the gravesite was close. They just had to go up a little more. Could he handle that though? Would he suddenly remember moving the dirt pressed on his face and trying to get out of the ground? 

“That’s okay,” Blanche said, quietly. She was relieved when he grabbed her hand. Gently, she lead him forward, her eyes still on the mangled form of the girl that was so desperately trying  to pull Lucas back. She didn’t understand why she was doing this - then again, Blanche supposed there was no need to know why, just that it was happening in the first place. Was that what her problem was? That she was so caught up in why things happened instead of just taking action and dealing with them as they came? Blanche didn’t know, but it caused a new round of anxiety in her. She clutched the iron rod in her free hand tighter as she pulled Lucas forward.

The weight on his soul seemed to pull and stretch. Like the ghost was tethered and bound to it and leaving his body behind like like a demented balloon. Suddenly something materialized near them and howled a broken, threatening sound. Lucas’ steps stopped, the very instinct to howl back came up without control, and he gritted his teeth as fangs crowded his mouth and his body shifted subtly, swallowing it down as his ribs creaked under his shirt. He turned around and it was Miles, with his face blown off, down to the bone, flesh hung off like a torn bed sheet, only his broken muzzle hung open to let the howl come through, and one eye illuminated and staring at him. ‘Late. Late. Late. This is what happens. Told you, I’d hurt them. I’d cut them. I’d kill him if you went to his side.’ Gotch’s voice whispered in his ear in familiar ways. Lucas stared at his brother, strong emotions a current in his chest, heavy in frustration and fear. His hand fell from hers, taking a step forward. “Don’t show me this--” 

Until he wouldn’t go anymore and she stopped too, squeezing his hand tightly. “Lucas?” She asked. She watched his inner turmoil, eyes going from between the girl and him. “Stop it! Leave him alone! Who are you?!” Blanche snapped. Shit. Lucas said a name, seeing some hallucination that she couldn’t see, turning and walking away, his hand falling from hers. Shit. Blanche rushed forward, practically running to cut Lucas off, holding her free hand up to stop him. “Lucas, look at me. It’s okay! It’s okay, it’s not real.” Blanche bit her like and then resigned herself. “Lucas, I need you to send me the map on your phone. So I know where to go, okay?” 

He closed his eyes so he wasn’t fooled. Did it mean she actually died here, and wasn’t disposed of? Did Gotch kill her so horribly? “Okay--” Luke opened his eyes, rings of gold in his brown, seeing Blanche. It was impossible not to feel this ghost’s presence now, and it was exhausting him fighting back. He pulled his phone out and quickly sent the map and plot location to her cell. “We have to go, it’s-- this is too dangerous now--” he said, wishing he could keep going but knew he didn’t want to put Blanche in any more danger. They got answers though. This wolf-- they deserved to rest. It was the least he could do. 

The ghost was wailing now. A deep, anguished howl erupted from her, and Blanche could feel it ringing in her ears. “Alright,” Blanche said softly, feeling her phone vibrate. She was overwhelmed now, over stimulated by the spirit and Lucas - it happened so often like that. It was easier to be around one instead of both, and Blanche spent the better part of her life wishing it was the live ones. But she could feel this spirit. This girl’s pain. More than that, she could feel just how desperate she was and feel just how close to breaking it was. A session or two with Rebecca hadn’t done much for her senses, other than her focuses on how different sorts of spirits felt, and if Blanche took a moment to breath, took a moment to look at the mangled body of the girl, she knew she didn’t have much time left. She reached for Lucas’ hand and pulled, this time back towards the graveyard gate. “Let’s go home,” she said. And then, she would come back later, without Lucas. So she could deal with this poor spirit herself.

[pekorosu]

got my hands on the old radio drama for banana fish (thanks so much @vashak!! 😭) so im gonna do some mindless liveblogging bc i miss doing that shit

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- their voices are KILLING ME

- okay you could say it's partly bc i'm used to their anime voices but i'm actually fine with eiji's voice! IT’S THE REST OF THEM THAT SOUND REALLY FUNNY

- especially marvin and arthur omg. i could not stop laughing when they showed up. i remember thinking anime!arthur sounded way too cool, but this version just went in the complete opposite direction

- ash's voice is a little deeper (?) than i expected. i don’t think that’s the right word for it but yeah... uchida yuuma's voice is closer to how i imagined it in terms of "youthfulness" but his is also a tad bit too "clean"...

- MEANWHILE MAX SOUNDS SO GRUFF AND MANLY LOL. now anime!max just sounds dopey in comparison

- i think the only person who doesn't make me feel like doubling over with laughter so far is dr. meredith, jenkins and eiji...

- skip sounds way too cute. son... 🥺

- the bgm when eiji and ibe first meet ash ADJHJDJSKFHKD 

- IT’S JUST HILARIOUS IN CONTRAST WITH THE EARLIER BG ROCK MUSIC

- omg now it sounds a bit like pokemon music

- eiji: CAN I TOUCH UR GUN ash: SURE *pokemon music*

- HAHA EIJI'S STUPID GIGGLE

- eiji: HEY CAN I ASK U SOMETHING ash: SURE eiji: HAVE U KILLED ANYONE BEFORE ash: YUP *cheerful pokemon music continues*

- SHORTAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

- i like shorter’s voice! 👌 it actually sounds similar to his anime voice, just less nasally, i think

- this version of ash sounds more uhh... forceful? emotional? idk how to describe it lol but i feel like his VA tends to 1) overdo it, or 2) get it tonally wrong for the situation...

- nooooooooooooo they removed my favourite eiji line before he jumps over the wall i was WAITING FOR IT

- hmmm the scenes just don’t have that oomph... i think it’s bc they're pushing through the scenes very quickly... then again, the anime had the same issue but their VAs still did a better job compared to this...

- i guess ash and eiji will always have sad gay piano music whatever version they're in :')

- ash's voice is starting to grow on me even though i still think he sounds off at certain parts that demand more subtlety. max on the other hand, is like, REALLY BAD................... imo

- "and then he kissed me" HAHAHAHA IT WAS NARRATED yeah well duh what was i expecting this isn’t a BL drama cd

- gOD arthur's voice dsfkajskghjfsdlg

- shorter's so cool tho im love 🤩

- love all the 90s gunshot sfx. PEEUNG PEEUNG PEEUNNNGGSSHHHH

- lol eiji and ibe actually sound more like friends than Concerned Dad and Reckless Son

- ash's reaction to griff's death is played so cool... no outbursts just :/ and then the scene straight away jumps to them drinking lol

- ash's crying is so manly...

- WHY IS THE CAR SCENE SO FUNNY

- ok im a lil mad bc that was the ONE scene where eiji got to rebel but this version is just 😂😂😂

- literally:

ash: anyway, imma borrow this car for a bit. eiji: *hops in* i’m coming along!!! >:DDD ash: wtf get out ibe: *knocking frantically on the window* oi eiji!!! eiji: *very cutely* c’mon if u don’t hurry up u'll get caught again :))))) ash: tch -_- *brrm brrms away*

and then they eloped

- oh my god........ is that lee dude's VA trying to do a “chinese” accent in japanese............................

- !!!! this part! i liked the way ash sounded when he was amused by eiji's naive comment about the lees. i think i prefer this take over the anime where ash was more stoic. and i like that you can hear him switching to his DEEP VOICE OF SERIOUSNESS lol.

- i also liked the next bit where shorter warns eiji to keep his head down and eiji's like WHY ARE U TRYNA PROTECT ME I CAN TAKE CARE OF MYSELF >:T hehe iirc that wasn't in the anime

- ...i'll just put it here bc it's a rare moment that i rly enjoyed so far

- aaaand we're back to cheesy gunshot sounds

- hearing jennifer's voice feels so soothing after almost an hour of deep voices

- who sounds scarier when picking a fight? radio drama!max = 1, anime!max = -5

- ash's dad: who the hell are u guys and why are you hanging around ash. max: i’m max. i'm a friend of griffin's, we were in the same squad in vietnam. shorter: name's shorter. eiji: my name is eiji. i'm japanese.

sdfsfsdghkfhk how is that relevant to the question EIJI PLS 

- that said, they actually toned down quite a lot of eiji's doofiness huh

- i truly feel like eiji's a lot less "damsel in distress" and more "chill but curious bystander", while ash is closer to the typical shounen manga protag here 

- damn jessica doesn't sound as awesome as i’d hoped. the anime rly spoiled me haha

- OMG yut-lung's voice. it's so... cute... 🥺🥺

- this ENTIRE freakin scene where shorter threatens to kill eiji just lost its gravity thanks to:

1) arthur's voice sounding like a disney villain’s henchman 2) lee dude’s AWFUL accent 3) EVERYONE TALKING SO QUICKLY 4) THE OVERDRAMATIC BG VIOLINS AND DRUMS

- hmm, i think i might actually like eiji’s voice in this version more than the anime now! sorry nojima

- abraham actually sounds kinda intimidating here

- LMAO SING'S VOICEEEEE. too nasally for me XD

- oh wow, i think i prefer this version of shorter going nuts... not that the anime is worse, just that it chose to emphasize more on the tragedy of the situation while this one focuses more on the terror and urgency. probably bc of the bg music lol. also shorter’s abs were very distracting in the anime

- weapon room scene: ash sounds TOO out of breath and panicky here, but i guess it fits the context of the radio drama... it's inaccurate compared to the manga tho

- another issue i have... ibe's VA sucks. sorry but he always sounds so flat or inappropriate for the situation ><

- god this rescue scene still sounds ridic on 2nd listen... it's so over the top I CAN'T

- i gotta say, even if i were to disregard how i personally imagined ash’s voice, uchida yuuma still does it better acting-wise. i know voice acting has to involve some level of exaggeration but sometimes less is more, y’know?

- it sure feels like this radio drama is intent on cutting out as much gay as they can more interested in spotlighting the plot and action scenes, bc a lot of the convo scenes seem to have been cut...

- also the "pls come back" scene was like... so bro. no more “i’ll wait for you always”. NO HOMO. booooooooooo. but strangely enough i found the acting in it better than in the previous scenes.

- altho from what i remember, ash and eiji's VAs sounded like they had p good chemistry... but maybe it's a bit too early to say, i'll have to hear more of their casual banter to decide

- ash finding shorter's corpse scene: sorry but the anime wins, hands down 

- so eiji's VA is... inoue kazuhiko? wasn't that the guy who played kakashi from naruto or something? lol i don't even go there

- gotta say, the ED song is the part that i enjoyed the most XD seriously tho, it's a nice song! and the lyrics makes up for all the lost gay haha

- okay that’s it for the first CD. nothing much of interest here, and BF starts off slow in terms of ash/eiji content anyway, so hopefully there’s more to comment on in the next CD 🤔

[mst3kproject]

802: The Leech Woman - Part I

I tend to get all social-justice-y on this blog, so it will probably come as a surprise to you that I kinda like this movie.  I won’t pretend for a moment that The Leech Woman is not stupid and offensive, but something about it absolutely fascinates me.

Dr. Paul Talbot, an endocrinologist, is searching for a cure for Old.  This is at least partly because it will make him ludicrously rich, but also because his wife June has turned forty and he’s no longer attracted to her.  An old woman, Malla, tells the Talbots that her people, the Nando, know the secret of renewed youth.  They therefore follow her to Fake Africa where they learn that the Cure for Old has two ingredients: the pollen of a rare orchid, and a human pineal gland, scooped from a still-living brain.  Is June willing to commit murder in order to be young and beautiful again?  You bet your sweet booty she is!

I was kind of surprised when my word processor didn’t underline ‘Nando’.  I googled it, and apparently Nando’s is a South African restaurant famous for their ‘Peri-Peri Chicken.’  You learn something every day.

This movie is gross on so many levels.  It hates everybody.  Its ‘Africans’ are primitive mystics in loincloths and skull headdresses, its women are domineering and predatory, its men abusers, criminals, and dull-ass ciphers. I hardly know where to start.  In fact, the badness of The Leech Woman is so complex and pervasive that I think we’ve got another multi-part series here.  In this review, I’m going to talk about the characters.  Next week, I’ll go on to other stuff.

The Leech Woman is, of course, not the first movie I’ve watched in which there is no hero… but I’m not just talking about this being another film in which the so-called ‘hero’ doesn’t do anything.  This is more like The Amazing Transparent Man in that there is literally nobody in the film who can be described as ‘good’.  It’s not a movie about good overcoming evil, it’s a movie about evil destroying itself.  That’s probably part of the reason why I find it so interesting, as it’s an unusual way to approach a narrative, and The Leech Woman shows an astonishing amount of commitment to it.  We’ve seen a number of movies on MST3K where the good guys really aren’t important but there’s still somebody, usually a dull cop or reporter, who theoretically fills that role.  The Leech Woman doesn’t even have one of those.

Let’s take a look at our cast, shall we?  We’ve basically got six important characters: Paul and June Talbot, David the jungle guide, Malla, Neil the lawyer, and Neil’s fiancée Sally.  I think I’ll start with the men.  They’re all terrible.

The first character who speaks is Paul, and the first thing he says is to insult his wife, sneering at her about her drinking.  The conversation that follows tells us not only that they hate each other, but that Paul seems to have married June primarily so he could experiment on her, and is pissed that she doesn’t want to let him.  Then while June is hurt, drunk, and vulnerable, he goes from insulting her to fawning over her, softening her up so that he can return to emotionally abusing her later.  When, on the trip to Africa, she accuses him of ignoring her, he tells her she’s imagining it.  He’s also deeply unprofessional at work, insulting and scoffing at Malla when she’s there in response to his request for research subjects.

Of course, Paul is a villain in this story.  We’re glad to see him go, and the nice irony of him not living to see June rejuvenated is one of the few things The Leech Woman does right.  His detestable traits are so cartoonishly overblown, though, that it’s really hard to take him seriously as a character.  Paul comes across more than anything else as a plot device, a necessary stepping stone for June to come into contact with the Nando and their youth pollen.  Once he’s served that purpose he’s no longer needed.  Nobody misses him, and June never shows the slightest trace of regret, immediately attaching herself to David instead.

David starts off seeming like a slightly better person than Paul, since he treats June like a human being and attempts to offer her some actual comfort after she fights with her husband.  Then he goes steadily downhill.  He steals the youth pollen and the ring at a moment when he should be worrying about them getting out of there alive, and then when June ages again, he not only refuses to give them to her, he runs away.  I guess he’s supposed to do this because he realizes he’s the only person around she could tap for pineal juice, but at this point we have no evidence that she’s willing to do that.  She didn’t even watch while the Nando killed Paul.  Instead, it looks for all the world like David runs because he’s physically repulsed by her, or because he’s afraid she’s going to infect him with Old.

Finally, there’s Neil.  I think we’re supposed to like Neil… I think we’re supposed to see him as a nice guy destroyed by a scheming woman, but the truth is that Neil destroys himself.  The moment he sees young June, in her disguise as ‘Terri’, come up to him, he throws all decency out the window and practically follows her around drooling for the rest of the movie.  When his fiancée points out, understandably, that this is unacceptable behaviour, he treats her exactly as Paul had treated June, telling her that she’s imagining things. All these things stack up against us liking Neil, and he displays no redeeming qualities to offset then… in fact, other than being easily led by his dick, he has no qualities at all.  He’s a cardboard cutout with ‘handsome guy’ written on it.

Of course, none of these men are a point-of-view character in the story. The Leech Woman is a story about women, so how about them?  Well, unsurprisingly they’re terrible too.  Malla uses the Talbots to get her back to Africa and then tries to have them killed, and clearly has no problem with the whole ‘a man must die to make her young’ thing.  The Nando as a culture are used to this idea, but Malla didn’t grow up with that – she was raised in the west, where people would definitely not be okay with it.  If the men were shown to be willing sacrifices this might not be quite so bad (although it still wouldn’t be okay), but no, the guy we see is struggling as he’s held down and drugged.

As for Sally, the movie evidently wants us to think she’s a nagging harpy.  It doesn’t quite succeed, because of the way Neil drools after ‘Terri’. Sally has every right to be worried, impatient, and annoyed, especially when he brushes off her concerns the way he does.  Instead, what’s terrible about Sally is the way she offhandedly threatens Neil (“you better not try anything like that if you want to stay in one piece”) and seems to view him as a possession rather than a partner.  When he admits he prefers ‘Terri’, Sally’s plan is to send this woman away until she and Neil can marry, as if signing his name to the paperwork means he can never escape from her again.  He belongs to her now.  She has a receipt.

I assume that Neil and Sally met through Paul, but until the point where they turn up at the airport, we never see them together and have no indication they know each other exists. The impression I get is that the Bride of Neil was originally going to be a different character, but they couldn't afford another actress.

Then there’s June.  The Leech Woman is obviously her story – she’s in almost every scene, and is the one with a bit of a character arc.  It’s possible that we see Paul as unsubtly evil and Sally as a paranoid bitch because that’s how June sees them.  If anybody’s the protagonist, it’s her, but she is never, ever likable even in a villainous sort of way. We root for her to destroy Paul because we hate him too, but everything she does is awful and like the other characters, she doesn’t have any good characteristics to offset it.

When we first meet her, she’s a self-pitying drunk. She is so badly-treated by Paul that by the time it looks like she’s going to have him killed and run off with David, we’re all for it.  Then her downhill spiral begins as she murders David for his pineal.  This is supposed to be a surprise and a demonstration that June is irredeemable, and it works as far as it goes, but it leaves us with no interest in her affair with Neil.  We don’t root for them to get together because it’s obviously impossible, and we cannot believe that this is some great tragic love when they’ve only just met. It’s just a couple of selfish idiots being selfish idiots.

After the way Paul has treated June, we understand why she enjoys seeing men doing her bidding.  She’s always been ignored and disregarded, so she derives great joy from being able to make people pay attention.  She uses beauty to wrap Neil around her little finger, and wealth to do the same to the would-be robber.  She knows she’s ruining Neil’s life by seducing him as ‘Terri’, and she seems positively gleeful about that.  The problem is that she’s not really trying to accomplish anything through this manipulation.  She has no long-term plan, it’s just all-out hedonism, and when she finds herself cornered, she commits suicide.  June never learns anything from any of this, and nobody else learns anything from her. At the end, she’s just pointlessly destroyed a number of lives, including her own, and it’s hard to say what the audience is supposed to take from that.

And man, that’s just the dramatis personae!  I have way more to complain about in The Leech Woman, so stay tuned.  Next week I’ll be back in SJW mode with a vengeance.  See you then!

[nadziejastar]

Master Xehanort touched down in Radiant Garden and surveyed its surroundings. The ruler of this world was said to research the heart through different methods than the Keyblade Masters. Though the man's studies did interest him, it was not yet time.

Master Xehanort strolled around this world and found a lone man. He had a dangerous look in his eyes that concealed a darkness in his heart incomparably greater than that of anyone else in Radiant Garden. 

No matter the world, one didn't have look far to find hearts infested with darkness. After all, no heart was entirely free of it. It all boiled down to proportions; a little nudge to a heart with more darkness than light, and everything would begin falling into place.

"You there." Master Xehanort had seen several people dressed in the same uniform as this man.

"...What do you want, ya old coot?" The man with dark, slicked-back hair turned around with annoyance. Master Xehanort's golden eyes regarded him.

Exactly. It really doesn’t make any sense how easily those two became apprentices. Since when can any random person just knock on the front door and talk to Ansem, anyways? Dilan and Aeleus were the guards. They knew Lea and Isa were trespassers. Plus, they had secret evil experiments they didn't want Ansem to know about. Why on earth would they ever grant those two kids an audience with Ansem the Wise? If they knew that those two trespassers wanted to talk to Ansem, it's more likely that they would have just kidnapped them on the spot and locked them up, rather than letting them get access to Ansem the Wise. 

And so we stand before the castle gates today, not as trespassing children but in order to become Ansem the Wise's newest apprentices.

Ansem was apparently not someone who casually interacted with the general public. Leon, Yuffie, Cid, and Aerith had NO idea what the ruler of Radiant Garden looked like or how old he was. They all thought Ansem Seeker of Darkness was the real Ansem until Mickey told them otherwise. It didn't seem like many people knew much about him. In the novel, Axel saw Ansem the Wise on the Hollow Bastion computer screen and had no clue who he was. Mickey was able to see Ansem because he was a king from another world. Lea and Isa were just two school kids---nobodies.

Xehanort was never planning on losing his memory after gaining Terra as his new vessel. But he did plan on becoming an apprentice. And even then, he knew he couldn’t just knock on the front door and ask to become one. That’s weird and suspicious. It’s why Master Xehanort had to go through Braig. Without Braig, Xehanort would have never gotten anywhere near Ansem. And Xehanort was of particular interest to Ansem not just because he was a random unconscious person, but because he was discovered with Aqua's armor and Keyblade next to him. He was a very interesting subject to a scientist studying the secrets of the heart. What do Lea and Isa offer a KING other than an opportunity to babysit?

Subject was found in the central square shortly after dawn. Female, approximately fifteen years old. After seven days' observation, she spoke her first words, but could not provide a name. Subject exhibits signs of profound amnesia, and displays concern for which world this is. Her words suggest that she departed her home world with others, though she cannot recall the names of her erstwhile companions. All efforts to explore those memories have met with a rejection response.

After his initial experiments on me, Ansem the Wise ceased his research into the heart, his hand stayed by some fear I cannot fathom. Yet this new subject is like me: devoid of memories. She is the perfect sample upon which to continue my master's work. She, too, could benefit from it; by traversing the heart, we have a direct path into memory. I myself have begun to reclaim my lost past thanks to these very experiments.

Who is she? Whence has she come? These are questions no scientist could ignore. And the words she muttered, "May your heart be your guiding key"...

I still think the name "Subject X" was originally Isa, but now that I think about it, she kinda rips off of Terranort, too. An amnesiac from another world who was discovered in the central square? When Aqua was fighting Terranort, it was nighttime. So, when Ansem discovered Terranort, it probably would have been...shortly after dawn. Subject X departed from their home world with other friends, but can’t remember their names? Sounds like Terranort, too. He’d probably remember he had two important friends, but not their names. So Ansem wanted to help him remember his past. Man, nothing about Subject X is unique at all. She’s just a hodgepodge of different characters.

As noted in my earlier reports, I must solve the mystery of this "darkness of the heart." This paradise depends on it. I shall perform an experiment to probe the depths of a person's heart. One of my own apprentices, Xehanort, has volunteered to be a subject.

The young man has served me ever since I nursed him back from death's door some years ago. He had lost all his memories at the time, but later showed remarkable intellectual curiosity and readily absorbed my teachings, gaining deep wisdom. Any mental immaturity is surely due to his young age.

If I explore Xehanort's heart with psychological tests, I may be able to recall the past locked away within. My apprentice Even has also shown great interest in Xehanort's memories. But is he really the right subject? Xehanort does indeed exhibit extraordinary talents...Too extraordinary...Perhaps they are even superhuman.

Xehanort was a very unique person. He was an amnesiac that needed to be nursed back to health, but he also just happened to be mysterious and brilliant. Ienzo was an orphan whose parents were friends with Ansem or Even. They are exceptions. That doesn't mean anyone could just knock on the front door and become an apprentice. Why would Ansem just take on two random kids with no scientific background?

Not to mention that Lea and Isa apparently asked to become apprentices after Subject X was discovered by Ansem, since she was gone already. At that point, Ansem would have been aware that his apprentices were kidnapping people and that there were Heartless in his castle. He just experienced the worst betrayal of his life by the last apprentice he took in. Why on earth would he allow two suspicious kids in his castle at that point? I’m sure the other apprentices would have informed Ansem that they were trespassers.

“Most kids spend the time just messing around with their friends. They put off the homework until the end and then help one another finish it.”

He was apparently speaking from personal experience. Was Axel referring to his own memories of summer vacation as a human?

“It’s not a bad way to spend your time. I hadn’t really thought about it since I became a Nobody…,” he murmured, almost to himself, before turning the conversation back to Roxas.

Also these are two underage kids who are still in middle/high school. How are they just going to become apprentices when they are still in school? They don't have any credentials. Ansem would need their parents’ permission, right?

“Stop changing the subject!” Olette scolded them.

“All right already…” Hayner stood up with a sigh. “You win. We’ll do the homework. Today’s the day for a pain-in-the-butt independent study project.”

Roxas had completely forgotten that there were any vacation assignments until now. Only three more days, and then it was back to school.

Since Isa was in such a hurry, I almost wonder if he was thinking Lea wanted to sneak into the castle simply as a way to put off doing their homework.

“We’d like you to tell us if anything’s changed in this town. There are heaps of weird things here, right…? Like, the strange stone steps, for example…”

Roxas watched Axel and Pence’s exchange. For him to think of a question like that, when he’s only seen the map…

“Ohhh… So you guys are investigating the Seven Wonders of Twilight Town, too?” said Pence.

Roxas’s summer vacation was heavily based off of Axel’s memories. And the novel made it seem like Axel had experience with looking for the various wonders of the town. 

The castle was a wonderland to us children. Within its walls, Ansem the Wise conducted his research, and the fruits it bore allowed everyone outside to live in peace and happiness. That alone was enough to stoke our interest, though not all of the rumors that escaped its walls were so benevolent. By night, the muffled sounds of human wails emerged. There was talk of dangerous human experimentation. Lea and I couldn't help but hatch a plot to steal inside and sate our curiosity.

The point is, these are just innocent KIDS who like to play, eat ice cream, and explore the "wonders" of their town. They’re not secret agents. The castle was a wonderland to them. It's probably similar to how the haunted mansion and ghost train were for Roxas's group.

Lea---A likable, upbeat boy who tends to jump into things without consulting anybody else-sometimes with disastrous results. He seems to be hung up on other people remembering him, and taught Ventus the importance of making friends. He and his own best friend, Isa, have bigger plans.

Isa---A quiet and cool-headed youth. Though he does come out of his shell when talking to his best friend Lea, toward others he is distant and untalkative. He also often scolds Lea, who has an opposite (though complementary) personality.

I just don’t buy that Lea and Isa successfully convinced the KING to make them apprentices and infiltrated a group of criminals, all as part of some grand master plan. Two sheltered kids pulled off something like that and somehow didn’t get locked up and become test subjects themselves? Highly unlikely. BBS said that Lea always came up with plans that he’d jump into without thinking, with disastrous results. The journal seemed to be hinting that sneaking into the castle was something that...wasn’t a very bright idea and would lead to something very bad happening. Like getting kidnapped, locked up, then experimented on. And that’s a lot more believable of a scenario. Lea would do things without consulting anyone. Probably why Isa scolded him often.

“Don’t sit on that.”

“Then put another chair in here.” He let his legs swing, the way he would sit at the usual spot.

“Somehow, I doubt that would stop you,” said Saïx.

Judging by the way Saïx and Axel interact in the novel, Lea didn’t pay much attention to Isa’s scolding. I like the one little mini-comic where Axel was the accelerator and he called Roxas the brake. But he remembered that Roxas wasn’t actually the brake. It was “the other guy”. Isa was the brake. He’d try to reign in Lea’s hotheadedness. I definitely see it being Lea’s idea to sneak into the castle, not Isa’s. Lea probably didn't even consult Isa when coming up with the plan. They got caught trespassing multiple times, but Lea was always undeterred. Those aren't the actions of someone who knew that dangerous human experiments were going on.

Axel followed after him. “No, it’s just that there’s something about Riku I’m interested in. I want to check up on something, but I thought I’d just get your permission first.”

“Hmph… Even without my permission, you’ll go looking as you wish, won’t you?”

I'm sure Lea never imagined that anything bad could ever happen to them by sneaking into the castle. He seemed like he was very protective of Isa. If he knew there was loud wailing and rumors of dangerous human experiments going on in that castle, I HIGHLY doubt he would have brought Isa anywhere near it. Lea had a habit of jumping into things, but he was still a caring friend. I can't imagine that he would knowingly put Isa at risk like that. And I definitely don't think Isa would ever go along with that plan, either. He cared about Lea's safety and would have put the brakes on that plan REAL fast if he heard rumors of human experimentation.

“He worries too much. Thinks he has to help Sora do everything…” Axel grimaced in irritation.

“But, Axel, aren’t you the one worrying about Riku and Sora?” Naminé giggled softly.

“Me, worry? You think I need to be worried about those two?” He stretched backward and rocked the chair back and forth, like a restless child.

Axel probably blamed himself for what happened to them. He is obviously emotionally stunted in certain ways. He could be quite ruthless. But at the same time, he is hung up on things like having a best friend and eating ice cream. Bottom line is that these were just KIDS. They were naive. They didn’t know what they were getting themselves into. Didn’t sound like Lea was EVER prepared for the possibility that breaking into the castle was dangerous. 

[cherries-n-rocknroll]

Bucket List || chapter 6

Pairing: Roger x Reader

Summary: Roger and Reader are good friends but for roger, it is becoming much more than a friendship. He tries to ignore his feelings but the heart wants what it wants.

chapter 1 || chapter 2 || chapter 3 || chapter 4 || chapter 5 

Warnings (per chapter): mention/experience of a mild panic attack, shitty writing? smut, and unprotected sex (So some parts are 18+), lots of cursing. Explicit or triggering scenes are marked as following: [!!!] = beginning [!] = end.

Word count (per chapter): 5k

A/N: I hope this doesn't suck. Because I kinda feel like it does. Please let me know your thoughts! (If you want me to continue with this because idk, I rather write one-shots. I’m too unstable for this sometimes?)

Chapter 6 ‘The One Where Some People Find Out’

“Oh...my...god. I WAS RIGHT!” Emily almost screamed.

You both flinched, and you almost fell onto the ground. Suddenly not having Rogers’ arms holding you.

It was awfully silent for what felt like an eternity before spoke up: “I-it’s not what you thin-” Roger stammered.

“No, uhm, Em-” you began

“Shut up! Both of you! Don’t even try to talk around this.” Emily interrupted. “I fucking witnessed you kissing! And don’t go telling me it’s just a friends thing because ‘friends’ don’t do that!” She said, making air quotes with her fingers.

You gulped as you shared a look with Roger.

“Why are you two being so secretive about this anyways? It’s not like someone’s gonna murder you. To be honest it was quite inevitable.” She said. “Well? Are you two gonna say anything or what?”

“I- Uhm. Well- “ you stammered.

“Use your words, sweetie.” She coed and you shot her an angry look.

“Just don’t tell the guys okay?” Roger suddenly said. “Not yet.”

“Why not?” She said, frowning her brows.

“Just...don’t.”

"Okay? Fine! You guys are no fun!" Emily said before, much to your relief --- and surprise, she proceeded to walk away. As she walked past you she softly whispered in your ear that she thought it was very cute.

When you were alone again (well not alone, you're in a museum so…) things felt very awkward, to say the least. Your heart was pounding in your chest.

It’s just your best friend you told yourself, but still, you felt like you’d been caught doing something really bad.

[!!!]

You were definitely overreacting. And you tried to calm yourself down, by focussing on your breathing. But it didn’t seem to help. It was like you were paralyzed. Like someone had pushed a button in you.

“Hey, hey are you okay love?” Roger said, concern in his voice.

“I’m fine!” You said in a higher-pitched voice than normal. That wasn’t convincing.

“No, you’re not! I can see it in your eyes and you’re breathing like you just finished running a marathon!” He said, but that wasn’t helping at all.

In an instant, you felt his hand grabbing yours and then he was dragging you through the museum. Trying to get you outside to a less crowded spot. And you ended up in an empty corner near the staircase.

Roger grabbed both your hands and looked into your eyes intensely, trying to get your attention.

“You need to breathe okay? Don’t want you to faint again.” He said.

You nodded and he started giving you orders “So inhale….aaaand exhale for me, okay love?” he said, moving his hands and yours up and down. You did that for some time until you were calm again.

[!]

“What was that?” He said, lightly squeezing your hands, still a concerned look on his face.

“I-I don’t know.” You stammered. “I really don’t know. I-I snapped. I mean it’s just Em. I don’t know why.” You said in a fragile voice.

“It’s okay.” He said, pulling you in for a hug. Your mouth lightly pressed into his shoulder and you could smell his cologne. The smell was pleasant, calming.

“Why didn’t we want to tell the others again?” You suddenly murmured.

“Because we weren’t sure what this was/is.” He said.

“Oh, yeah, right.”

“And how long has it been? A week? Probably less.” He added.

“I think so.” You mumbled.

“And you wanted to take things slow. Remember? Not that we’ve been particularly successful at that.” He chuckled and you felt the vibrations of his voice against your chest. This was nice.

“You feel better love?”

“I think so.” You said, and you lifted your head up. “Please don’t tell Emily about this. I really don’t know why I freaked out. Also after? What is that? And I’m sorry you still always end up needing to help me.“ You rambled. “Sorry...I...make no sense.” You said softly, shaking your head.

“It’s okay sweetheart.‘You wanna go back?”

“Yeah,” you nodded.

So you ended up going back to looking at all the art, and you didn’t dare to kiss Roger in public for the rest of the day.

After you were done you ate in the park that surrounded the museum. And now everyone was sitting very close to each other, chatting about the day thus far. Brian, Roger and Freddie were discussing god knows what; Emily had settled on laying on Deaky’s lap --- It had surprised you how easy Emily had integrated into the group. She got along very well with the boys. Especially John for some reason. Mary was leaning on her hands with her eyes closed, enjoying the sun; and you were sitting next to Roggie boy while he talked to his bandmates, subtly holding your hand. He turned his attention to you when you suddenly released his hand.

“What ‘you gonna do?” He asked.

“Grab my camera. This looks so cozy and cute.” You smiled.

So you grabbed your camera out of your bag and pushed against the little lever with your thumb. You took some pictures of the lot, smiling behind your camera. They looked lovely with their colorful summery clothes and a smile on their faces.

The rest of the day you spend walking through the city and you ended up in a shop which sold the most beautiful clothing. Way too expensive. There was absolutely no way you were able to afford it, but you could always try things on, just for fun.

The guys were happy that there was a big leather couch in the shop where they could sit since...well you were most likely going to spend quite some time trying on all the stuff. It was a rather tiny couch, but that didn’t seem to be an issue for them. It always surprised you how little they cared about their personal space. So now they were basically sitting on each other chatting about some new song ideas, because why not?

You walked out almost simultaneously, and the boys fell silent.

“You look lovely darlings!” Freddie cheered, seemingly mesmerized by the beautiful clothing pieces.

When you met Rogers' gaze you saw his mouth curl up into the cutest smile and he couldn’t help but bite his lip a little.

“Yes, you lady's indeed look stunning,” Brian said.

“Too bad we can’t afford it.” Emily laughed.

You walked a bit closer to Roger --- who was sitting in a corner of the couch --- while the other two girls were talking to his mates.

“You look beautiful.” He said softly, eyes half-lidded as he looked up at you. And he softly brushed a hand over your hip. You smiled.

“Thank you,” you said, almost inaudible. And briefly, it felt like you two were in your own little bubble. And it felt great.

A few minutes and some dresses later you decided to leave the store because the owner didn’t seem very pleased with you trying everything on and buying nothing.

When the rest was almost ready to leave you were still in the dressing room. You were never the fastest. And when no one saw Roger sneaked into the little dressing room, making you yelp and place your hands over your body in an attempt to cover up. Roger was quick to place his hand over your mouth to silence you.

“Yeeez Roger! Don’t scare me like that.” You said when he removed his palm.

“That first dress is so beautiful, you have to get it.” He blurted out.

It was indeed a stunning dress. It looked classy, but also fun and youth-like with the golden star appliques on the see-through tule. It really was gorgeous.

“Rog it’s too expensive.” You said and you couldn’t help but feel a little exposed, standing just there in your underwear.

“I didn’t say you have to pay for it.”

“You want me to steal it?!”

“No! Well, that’s probably another thing checked off your list.” He smirked.

“I’m not sure that's something I want to check off Rog,” you said and he snickered.

“But...what I wanted to say-” he continued. “-is that the band isn’t doing too shabby. You should know that! You work at a record shop for fuck's sake.”

“Yes? So?”

“Well, I can buy it for you if you want to?”

“You would do that for me?”

“I love how it looks on you.” He said. “Can you put it on again?”

“Uh...yeah.” You replied, turning to grab it from the clothes hanger.

“Can you close it?” You said when you had put it on, speaking over your shoulder and he gladly helped. Roger gently pushed against your lower back as he pulled the zipper up in one fluent motion. And lastly, he closed the little button that held the upper back piece together.

When you looked up you met rogers gaze in the reflecting surface. “it’s beautiful. Stunning.” He said, wrapping his arms around your waist and his warm hands came to rest on your belly. “You look...hot.” He said in awe. The last bit came out as a whisper, activating some sort of ripple effect in your body.

“Fuck I could take you right now,” he muttered, mesmerized by the view in the mirror. And his hands started to make their way down to your---

“Mr. Taylor! Excuse me?!” You said. In a flash you turned around again, eyes widening, jaw dropping a few centimeters.

“Sorry,” he chuckled rubbing a hand over his neck.

“You are unbelievable!” You smirked.

But still, you forcefully grabbed his face and gave him a bruising kiss. And you briefly let your hand slide down to his crotch, palming him through his pants. It was funny to you how startled he looked when you pulled away. It was very cute.

You pridefully smirked at your achievement.

“Hey, now you’re here. Could you help me take this off again?” You asked as you turned around again. Fully aware of what you just did to him.

“Oh, you are in for it Miss!” He growled as he started to fumble with the top button. But he couldn’t suppress a soft gasp from escaping his lips when the fabric fell off your shoulders to expose more of your back.

The harshness of a second ago quickly faded away.

He gently let a hand run over your back. “Shit, you’re so beautiful.” he sighed and he proceeded to place butterfly kisses on your shoulder and neck. You closed your eyes and let your head fall to the side, enjoying the feeling of his soft lips devouring your skin.

Roger lightly pressed his hips into your ass as he continued to place sloppy kisses on your body. And his hands started wandering again, sneakily moving lower and lower.

“Rog!” you warned.

“Hmmm,” he hummed against your neck.

“Rog, we’re in a changing room!” You chuckled. “Besides, I need to get dressed again because the rest of the group is waiting….I’m sure they’re already of suspicious us.”

“Fuck that! Emily already knows. I don’t care. You look too good.” He said, and you felt his hand slipping under the fabric of the dress.

“Rog, fuck. Please!” you groaned, feeling his hand moving up to your inner thigh.

“Y/n! We’re leaving!” You heard Emily shout from across the store. Earning herself an angry look from the shop owner.

“Shit!”

“Fuck,”

You flinched away from each other. And just like that, your little bubble burst.

“Uhm, could you excuse me?” You said, making a ‘go away’ motion with your hand.

Roger awkwardly nodded and turned his back on you.

So with lust and adrenaline rushing through your body, you got changed into your own clothes again and walked out of the dressing room.

Roger was still standing outside the stall when you got out, an expecting look on his face.

“So? Do you want it?”

“Yes?”

“That doesn’t sound very convincing.”

“It’s so beautiful a-and I love it, but it’s so expensive and I don’t want to use you like that.”

“Y/n, I told you I wanted to pay fo-”

“I’ll pay half okay?”

“If you insist.”

“Deal?”

“Yeah, sure.” He said, dragging his words.

“Thank you so much!” You cheered, reaching out your hands to grab his face and kiss him. But you quickly retracted, realizing the others were still there.

This was hard.

---

“So? You bought that starry dress huh?” Emily said.

You were back at the house, now sitting in the kitchen together with a big bowl of fresh peaches in front of you. You had picked them up along the way home.

“Yes,” you shortly answered. “These things are good!”

“Shit, I’m making a mess!” You laughed. The sweet juice started to drip down your chin.

“Yeah, we probably look disgusting.” Emily joined in. “Maybe we should bring the others some too? Join us in being disgusting fruit monsters.”

“No way! These are way too good!” You snickered, a sarcastic undertone in your voice. “No okay we should, shouldn’t we? Kinda unfair to eat them all. And besides, I think my stomach is gonna protest if I do that.” you giggled.

You ended up going into the garden, sharing the rest of the peaches and you and the lot got lost in some intense rounds of scrabble.

---

The sun was steadily making its way down as you got ready to take a shower. You always found it a nice way to wind down, calm your nerves, reflect on the day.

You were about to take off your dress when you heard footsteps outside the door. And since that damn bathroom didn't have a lock you just proceeded to yell ‘Taken!’. Not really in the mood to have someone walk in on you again.

Although now you wouldn't really mind Roger walking in on you.

You heard a knock on the door. "Can I come in?" you heard a soft voice say, it was Roger. And you answered with a hesitant yes.

“Hey,” Roger said softly, peeking his head through the door opening.

“Uh, hi? I-I was just getting ready to take a shower. What’s up?”

“Just checking up on you, since you flipped back at the museum. I wanted to know if you’re still ok.”

He was standing in front of you now.

“I’m fine. Really, it’s okay.” You said, waving it off.

"Good, good. Uhm...if you were going to shower, 'care if I join you? ‘Saves water." he said, a little hesitantly.

"Yes?"

"Yes, as in you're okay with it?"

"I think so?"

"You think so?" he retorted. "You know, I'll shower later. Take some time for yourself." He said. And he gave you a kiss on your forehead before turning around to leave, but you grabbed his wrist, pausing his movement.

"no, wait! Stay.” You whispered. Roger turned around and his lips curled up into a soft smile.

“Yeah? Want me to join you after all?” He spoke softly with a now slightly devious grin on his face. He was up to something. “Come on, let’s get undressed then shall we?��

“Okay, now I feel weird about this.” You murmured, looking down at your feet. “Also, did no one see you going in here?”

“Everyone is everywhere and nowhere. I was reading something in my bed till just a few minutes ago and Brian and Deaks are downstairs I think. ‘Pretty sure they can’t see through walls and such.” He joked. “And please don’t feel weird, i-it’s just me. And to be honest, I’ve seen you naked more than- You know….a few days ago.” He felt a weird but good feeling going through his body as he said that. “If that helps,” he added. “You really sure you don’t want me to leave?”

You nodded and you took a few steps towards Roger. Your hands reached out to caress his chin. “No, I’m sure. You can stay.”

Your other hand made its way down to Rogers' hips and you briefly reached behind to give his ass a little squeeze, leaving him a little startled.

You pressed your lips against his before pulling away and placing your head on his shoulder. From the back, you started to push his shirt up. Your hands roamed over the skin of his back and you heard him sigh deeply. When the fabric was bunched up at his armpits, Roger threw his hands in the air so you could pull it over his head. And the shirt landed somewhere on the ground.

This time it was you who gasped at the sight of bare skin. It wasn’t like you had never seen his bare chest before, by any means. When he was rehearsing and it was a decent temperature he barely ever wore a shirt. But still, you thought he was so beautiful like this, gasp-worthy even.

Your hands had moved along with the shirt and were now on Rogers' shoulders, slowly making their way down again along his arms.

Your soft lips started devouring Roger's shoulders and neck. And you gently started to sucking at the skin, creating little red spots.

All of this made Roger gasp as a shiver shot through his body. “Fuck.” He muttered.

Your hand went down even further till it was resting on the waistband of his pants. You started fumbling with the zipper, but it didn’t really work. “Wait, lemme do that. It’s easier for me.” He chuckled and you stepped back just a little to give him some space.

In a matter of seconds, his pants were open and you stepped forward again.

In a matter of seconds, you had --- to your own surprise --- slid your hand into Rogers’ pants, making him choke on his breath.

His eyes were half-lidded when he looked into your eyes, breath fast and heavy as he felt your palm rest against his hardening length.

“You like that? Pretty boy? My hand in your pants?”

“Jesus, fuck. Yes!”

You dropped to your knees and proceeded to pull his pants down, Rogers eyes on you the entire way. He pulled one leg up and then the other so you could pull the material over his feet.

Sitting like that you couldn’t help but place kisses on his legs and you topped it off with some kiss on his clothed bulge, owning you another gasp from Roger.

“This isn’t fair,” he panted. “You’re still fully dressed and I’m almost...naked.”

“Fine!”

You moved back up onto your feet and Rogers' hands quickly started to work at your dress. And in no time you were both naked under the shower, and…a little turned on.

You grabbed the soap and- “Can I?” You asked with the bottle in your hand. And Roger nodded.

“Please.”

You squeezed some into your palm and carefully started rubbing the soap over his chest. Roger looked at your work with a soft smile on his face.

A few minutes later he did about the same for you. He was a little hesitant at first, but he quickly caught on when you started to encourage him.

“Turn around for me love,” He said and you did as he said. He started to clean your back, moving closer and closer to you as he finished the job. You sighed deeply at the feeling of his hands roaming over your skin and you relaxed completely. All the excitement and tension from the day fading away like ice in the sun.

But all of this ended when Roger suddenly pushed his body into your back, forcing you against the cold tiles.

“Jesus- Fuck! ROger! What the fuck!” You squealed.

“I did say you were in for it today didn’t I? Payback for leaving me hot and bothered. ‘Had to hide my hard-on for the entire ride home.” He growled in your ear. Speaking of…there was definitely something pressing against your back. And it was not Roger's belly.

“Are you serious?! This is hella cold! Let me go!” you said, trying to escape from his grip, but he was stronger than you.

“Sshhh, ‘s okay,” he hushed in your ear before spinning you around again.

You started hitting his chest in protest. “Ashole! You ever do that again and I’ll gut you, Taylor!”

“Sorry.” He apologized and he tried to catch you in his arms. Hugging you like a parent trying to hug their angry kid.

“Little fucker!” You muttered again this chest. “Not funny, those tiles are seriously cold.”

“Guess I’ll have to warm you up again then. Hmm?” He hummed.

“You better! Mr. Taylor!” And there it was again, that nickname. Over the course all those months it had changed from an obvious nickname to something that made his stomach turn and twist. But definitely in a good way.

“Say that again.”

“Mr. Taylor.” You repeated, but this time you said it with a more serious voice.

Right now it made him feel incredibly turned on. “You like that?” You asked.

“When you say it? Yes. Hell yes.” he sighed. “Fucking sexy,”

His cheeks turned a slightly darker shade of pink and then there was silence.

“Can you...turn around again?” he asked.

“Why?”

“Just wanna hold you again like today in the dressing room.”

“O-kayy?” You murmured, not sure why. “But don’t you dare push me against that wall again!”

“I swear it on my drum kit.”

His arms wrapped around you again as you turned around. And it felt...sweet...and also, kinda hot.

“I really love it, to hold you like this. Because like this, I can perfectly whisper in your ear; place kisses...hmmmm...on your shoulder and neck” he hummed. And you let your head fall to the side as he kissed you.

[!!!]

“Or I can slowly let my hand move down to your---”

You interrupted him with a quiet moan.

“That feel good love?”

“Hmhmm.” You nodded, your head falling back against his shoulders.

He kept rubbing over your clit till you were a quietly whimpering mess. You didn’t want to give the entire house a show.

“You close?” He whispered.

“Rog, please jus’ fu-”

You heard some fumbling before he spun you around again. And before you knew it he had pushed you against the cold wall again and wrapped your leg around his waist.

You really didn’t care about the wall right now, not at all.

You both held your breath as Roger experimentally pressed his hips into yours before dragging the tip of his length trough your folds.

Both of you gasped loudly as Roger slowly pushed into you, bit by bit. Till he was buried deep inside you.

For a moment the water streamed over you as you stood there, breathless.

“Fuck, feel so full.” You moaned, and almost simultaneously Roger choked out: “Oh...fuck- god you feel so...good love...feel so...tight. Squeezing me perfectly.”

“You were already close weren’t you?”

“Yeah. Please, Rog, move.” You sighed. “But be gentle okay?”

“Of course,”

He gave you an open-mouthed kiss as he pulled your thigh a little higher, so he could sink even deeper. And you moaned into each other's mouth.

He started to thrust into you at a steady pace and all you could focus on was the warm pressure in your lower abdomen and the sound of Rogers breath. Nothing else mattered. It was just you and him, him and you.

Your arms wrapped around him tightly and one hand combed through his wet hair.

You both finished with a series of quiet moans, they were almost inaudible.

[!]

The water kept flowing over you as you both calmed down. It felt so peaceful and quiet and lovely being wrapped in each other's arms. Almost as if you were actually becoming one for a moment. And it hurt when Roger released you to turn off the water to grab the towels.

You felt completely blissed out, sleepy, relaxed. As if someone had replaced all the sensations and feelings in your body with fluffy cotton candy, as cliché as it might sound.

“Rog?” you whispered, eyes closed. He had wrapped a towel around you both and pulled you back against his warm chest.

“Yeah?”

“Can I sleep in your bed again?” you murmured against the skin.

You just wanted to be close to him. Pressed against his warm body. Hug him, have him hug you, just...him. Be trapped in your bubble.

You were so sleepy that when you got out of the shower Roger had to help you dry off and get ready for bed --- not that he minded. And he indeed brought you to his room.

You laid there on his bed, Roger beside you on his side. He was absolutely mesmerized by how you looked in that moment and he felt so full of happiness. That you were his now amazed him.

“Can you hold me again?” You murmured, it was almost inaudible.

“‘Course.”

He snuggled against your back. Warm and cozy, even though it was quite hot already, you didn’t care about that.

---

“Rog? Rog psst! You awake?” You whispered while softly poking into his stomach.

“Hmmm? Good morning too you too. Is there something wrong, love?”

“Well Roggie, I dreamed about last night.” You smirked. “And now I’m sorta turned on.” You mumbled. “But also, I’m still very sleepy. So...”

“So?”

Maybe it was the fact that you were so relaxed, still feeling high in a way, that you were so blunt and straightforward. Or maybe it was the fact that you felt Rogers hard-on pressing against your back, but anyways-

“Can you just...fuck me really slowly again?”

To be honest, this kind of straightforwardness wasn't new. You had always been terribly honest with each other and now was no exception.

When you looked like crap he sure as hell was going to tell you. (You never got the chance to say that to him though since that bastard basically refused to not look fashionable at all times. But if he ever did you would definitely throw it in his face.) It had surprised you that it had taken him so long to tell you he liked you, since you were usually so open and chill with each other. But maybe this was an exception.

Yeah, Definitely.

Anyways, you telling him to fuck you --- not even calling it lovemaking or anything --- turned him on like mad. And he felt himself growing harder by the minute.

He was still hot and bothered from yesterday, couldn’t take his mind off of it --- and the time before that. And now this?!

“Oh please, can I?” he whispered excitedly.

Roger lazily god rid of his boxers and hiked your oversized shirt up a little. He caressed your hip with his thumb and placed a kiss on your neck.

"I just asked you too. So, yes."

[!!!]

"Need some prepping first? Hmmm? You maybe like it when I talk…dirty?" He began.

"let's try? Shall we?" You whispered back, your eyes closed as you listened to Roger's voice.

"You have no idea how much I want you right now...been thinking about last night too. Couldn't take my mind off of it. The water streaming over your skin…." He began. "your gleaming body...your-" he paused, and you felt the anticipation within you. "perfect tits. You make me so hard love."

You bit your lip as he continued.

"Y/N? Want me to touch you, love?"

"Yes, yes!"

"God, bet you're already dripping for me huh?"

"Wow I can't believe this is literally our third time and we're doing this?!" you laughed.

"Were we ever a normal couple y/n? I made love to you for the first time on the same day--- what am I even saying? The same night as I confessed my love to you. So… I think that says enough."

"Guess we're both just--- Nevermind. Did you just call us a couple?"

"I did didn't I. But should I continue or are we going to get ready for breakfast?"

You pulled your legs up a bit and pulled rogers hand down.

"Shit you are wet." he noticed.

He didn't wait any longer. He lined himself up with your entrance and he pushed into you, agonizingly slow. It made you gasp softly.

Your head fell back against Rogers' neck and you let out a guttural moan as he thrusted into you. It was so slow and lazy, but good.

He resumed his dirty talk and it got progressively filthier.

Moving from 'You're taking me so well love' to 'You're so fucking wet! I'm slipping away, almost sliding into your a--- oookay let's cut that of right there.

“Jeez, you're disgusting Rog. We're disgusting! We’re like horny teenagers.” You laughed when he said that.

"Fucking morning and night."

“We aren't horny teenagers anymore?!” He said sarcastically.

"Well, I can get behind the horny part but we're not teenagers anymore. Maybe mentally.”

"We're bad at this aren't we?" Roger murmured while he slowly kept thrusting into you, making you whine softly in between sentences.

"Yeahhhh." You laughed.

"God it feels so weird if you laugh. 'Squeezing around me."

"Yeah? Should I continue laughing? Does that turn you on?" You joked, purposely laughing even harder.

No, stop! Fuck…it feels so weird." And now Roger broke out into a laugh too. 

"Continue this another time?" You suggested.

"Maybe that's a good idea, but I'll definitely have to get myself off. Otherwise I won't survive." Roger snickered. Moving his hand up to his head for dramatic effect. "But seriously, I don't want to be hard again for half of the day. It's uncomfortable as fuck."

"No, wait Roger! Make love to me." You said in an overly dramatic voice as you tried to get on top of him.

"Yes my love, I will save you. I'll be your hero!" Roger jumped in again.

You briefly rubbed your hands over rogers chest and gave him a kiss before sinking down on him again, throwing your head back pleasure.

"But seriously Rog… Fu-ck…please get me off or I'll be frustrated the entire day, I swear!"

[!]

So, in the end, the laughing did stop and you were both content, so to speak.

Since you had made a habit of sleeping almost naked your underwear was…absent. So you asked Roger to go to your room and get a pair but…  

Apparently, you hadn't been very successful at keeping quiet and when Roger exited the room? Well…a Brown curly-haired man stood in the hallway.

"Good morning Rog. Heard you had fun this morning?"

Shittttttttt!!!

"Yeah, I did."

What was he doing?!

"Y/N came to my room, she was awake early. You know she makes me laugh all the time. She's hilarious you know, that's why I like her."

Awwww,

Brian squinted his eyes into thin lines, not really convinced of his mate's story.

"I'm pretty sure I heard a moan but okay…this time I'll take your word for it." He said like some kind of police agent. And then he walked away towards the stairs and added: "Oh yeah forgot to mention, you forgot something in the bathroom!"

A/N: a big thank you to the people who read, reblog, like and comment on my work. YOU ARE AMAZING! Because without these things I lose motivation. I create these things for free, all I’m asking you as a reader is to like, reblog and comment on my work. Even just a simple “wow” a meme or a keyboard smash makes me incredibly happy! Because there is nothing worse than making something and receiving no reaction to it.

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[mihanada]

Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation

(back to masterpost)

Oooh boy was this a wild chapter. but! this is also the end of this arc! So tiny!

Chapter 62: Evil (Part 2)

“Wei WuXian had clearly been a bright, high-spirited boy...Yet, this person was entirely enveloped in a cold, dark energy. He was handsome, yet pale-faced, his smile eerie.”

D:

Here it is, the transition from Wei Wuxian the first disciple of the Yunmeng Jiang Sect to the Yiling Patriarch.

“All of the flesh on his legs had been sliced off, piece by piece. And, likely… all of the flesh had been eaten by himself!”

Hey. Hey. Just in case you forgot that this novel was low-key gross and gory.

This is some great horror material. And remember when Wei Wuxian mentioned that he of all people would know about torture methods? (I forgot when he said this, but he did.) WELL. This is the source of that statement.

He was really going for both physically and mentally breaking Wen Chao here, and it succeeded big time.

Imagine how Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji watching from above must feel? It’s like Wei Wuxian is a totally different person.

“...half of Wei WuXian’s face was in the light, the other half in the dark.”

is the symbolism smacking you in the face yet

“Holding what he had fed it in its mouth, it turned around and sat down. Hugging his leg, it chewed fiercely as it glowered at Wen ZhuLiu with cold, glistening eyes.”

yikes it’s the scary baby again. why is it always scary undead babies.

uM eating Wen Chao’s fingers.

(so just how did this happen anyways...was Wen Zhuliu too far away to get to Wen Chao and Wei Wuxian tortured him during that time, or was Wen Zhuliu occupied with fighting some corpses or. It’s likely that Wei Wuxian let them run away like I mentioned last chapter. gotta employ that psychological warfare!)

“Wen ZhuLiu, “I can’t fail to repay the debt I owe their generosity.”

i mean, at this point I think it’s been paid in full what the heck did they even do for you.

“Why is it that the debt you owe has to be repaid at the expense of others!”

idk I just like this line. Also, it hits a sore spot, and he loses a bit of his composure and gets angry.

“Burned skin was naturally weak to begin with...The uneven, bald head immediately became a bloody, bald head.”

how is Wen Chao still ALIVE. being a cultivator has its downfalls, probably their bodies are a little sturdier than regular people. which is not a good thing.

Also, with Wen Chao being pitiful and wailing in fear this entire chapter, it creates some weird dissonance.

On one hand, you don’t feel pity for him, he’s a terrible person.

On the other hand, who deserves this level of torture inflicted upon them?

The more you read, the more excessive it becomes.

“The ghoul child, however, had bit out an entire chunk of the flesh on his hand and spat it out. He continued to devour the palm.”

this is a lovely image. your core melting hand can’t help you now.

“Wen ZhuLiu’s large, heavy body had been lifted up by the surging whip and was now dangling in the air.”

Ok, a lot happens in the span of these two paragraphs. I did a little cheer when Jiang Cheng managed to get ahold of this guy. He deserves more than a little catharsis after what he went through.

“At the same time, Wei WuXian’s pupils shrunk. He took out a flute from beside his waist and spun around, standing up.”

To his credit, his first reaction is to recall the ghouls/corpses so they don’t attack the wrong people.

“He looked down at Suibian and only responded after a pause, “… Thank you.”

there’s something seriously wrong here, if the torture and controlling corpses wasn’t enough of a hint. That lackluster, soulless response.

“Although the sentence itself seemed to scold him, his tone was full of joy.”

my heart kinda started breaking here. Jiang Cheng seems so happy to have him back, he is willing to ignore all the things that are wrong about this boy he grew up with. And that is not a healthy thing for anyone involved, but realistically, after what they’ve gone through would you expect any other reaction?

“A few moments later, he struck him as well, “Haha, it’s a long story, it’s a long story!”

And now Wei Wuxian tries to answer in kind, tries to act like his usual self.

“...threw me to some hell of a place to suffer.”

If you would have elaborated here...maybe it would have given them some context for what happened to you. But, Wei Wuxian is the type to conceal his suffering for one reason or another, whether it’s to protect others or just because he doesn’t need to justify himself to people. So, he won’t elaborate. It’s done and gone, what’s the point in playing the pity party when they’ve got other business to attend to?

the ghouls are really creepy though. 

“If I say that I found a mysterious cave somewhere and there was a mysterious book that a mysterious expert had left, and then when I came out I was this powerful, would you believe me?”

you troll. you tragic troll.

“Jiang Cheng murmured the words ‘as long as you’re back’ a couple of times before hitting him again, “You really are…! You live on even after being captured by Wen-dogs!”

D: this is also breaking my heart ok.

“To play around, play with them until they die. Straight up killing all of them at once would be too easy on them. Much better killing them in front of one another one by one, one slice after another.”

deefinitely getting unhinged here.

and it really is sad, when you consider who he was before all this terrible shit happened.

“He wanted to protect him, but I wanted to make him see how in his hands, Wen Chao would become more and more distorted, unlike a man but also unlike a monster.”

So the torture was Wen Chao’s punishment. The releasing them and chasing them down was Wen Zhuliu’s punishment.

it’s fitting isn’t it. after Wen Zhuliu’s hands caused so much grief, ripping people’s cores from them, in the end the person he wanted to protect also disintegrated under his touch. but, also perhaps a reflection of what happened with Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian. Jiang Cheng turned into a shadow of himself due to those hands, although he was alive he was already dead inside, and Wei Wuxian couldn’t do anything to help him (until he did, but before that)

“It is not that I want to denounce him.”

This starts Lan Wangji’s really bad communication skills.

Lan Wangji might be seen as the epitome of a righteous cultivator by everyone in-story, but he’s actually quite the flawed person. This is one of his faults. If he could actually explain himself clearly, would this chapter have ended in such on such an uneasy, awkward note?

“Wei Ying, for cultivating an evil path you would eventually have to pay. Throughout time, there has not been a single exception.” “The path would not only damage your body, but your heart as well.”

This is a good example of a passage where the context of the sentence really matters.

How could Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng take this as anything but Lan Wangji criticizing him for demonic cultivation? If you just read those words, you can’t tell if Lan Wangji has another motive.

That’s what I like about this story’s narrative. Technically, you know just as much as the main character does. Really, if you didn’t know Lan Wangji was the love interest and already had a small crush on him, how would you ever interpret this differently from Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng?

“Wei WuXian, “I can pay.” “Of course I can control it.”

I love his youthful confidence and resolve. it’s so foolish, but so fitting.

“After all, on the topic of how my heart is, what could other people know about it? Why should other people care about it?”

this is sad stop ripping my heart out Wei Wuxian

1) he doesn’t think himself worthy of other people’s affections or love, platonic or not, he doesn’t think anyone would care about him

2) the question of: can we really ever know the content of another’s heart?

“Lan WangJi paused. He had suddenly been angered, “… Wei WuXian!”

I’d be kind of angry too. Even objectively, do you really think no one cares about you? the answer is, well, yes in a way. Wei Wuxian can clearly see that Jiang Cheng at least was happy to see him. Yet, in Wei Wuxian’s eyes, his status is as a servant and Jiang Cheng is the “Sect Leaer”, who doesn’t have to worry about his subordinate’s heart.

“The two knew how to continue each other’s words ever since they were young. Now, one sentence after another, the argument flowed seamlessly...”

knowing this all goes to hell later makes me sad

They used to get along so well.

“Hearing this, Lan WangJi’s expression froze. He looked up at Wei WuXian, the lump at his throat trembling, “I…”

probably a response to: “No matter whom he goes back with, it wouldn’t be you.”

but, again, bad communication skills.

“They had both showed him expressions of either despair, anguish, or deep-set hatred. However, right now, their faces above him had the same cold smile, the same cold eyes.”

the symmetry is really nice

“Wei WuXian, “Of course it’d be with a certain thing gone.”

>.>

they went there

“The eyes he looked at Wen Chao and Wen ZhuLiu with glistened, and his grin was both excited and cruel. Jiang Cheng had on him the same expression. Both of them had been buried within the overwhelming pleasure of revenge. Neither had the concern to deal with an outsider.”

You again get that weird mix of satisfaction and dissatisfaction. It’s disturbing, or disconcerting at least.

“The night had passed. The sun in the sky was about to rise.

And the sun on the ground was falling.”

a very simple, but impactful few sentences of description.

The real sun in the heavens is rising.

But the false sun on earth is falling.

(quotes from ExR’s translations)

← back・onward →

[cassatine]

Wait, I've been reading your posts on Macron (I'm not really well-versed in the nuances of French politics, so I may be getting something wrong here) but it seems you're saying that he's acting like a dictator, refusing to cede power, using the army to maintain his control... but when that scottish blogger cybersmith said it, you said that was wrong. Is Macron a tyrant or not? (also, I hope yor okay, some people have been hurt)

Yeah huh what “that scottish blogger” actually said, and I quote:

Does it not alarm you that Macron has announced his intention to rule your homeland and countrymen in perpetuity as an eternal dictator, even going so far as to proclaim himself a manifestation of divinity? Or do you still find this preferable to the possibility of a (humanely implemented) regime change carried out by concerned neighbour-states?

and

I did warn you about Macron. Now he has openly declared his intention to rule France as an immortal god-king.

and

He… Literally compared himself to a pagan sky-father. I’m not being a conspiracy theorist. He makes no secret of it now that he has won the election.

and

As a French person, would you be in favour of a New Reconquista to rescue the lands of Europe from Illuminati-Backed Jihadism? I am planning to ask my MP to bring this up on the House Of Commons (because of the upcoming GE in the UK) but it occurs to me that such an endeavour would necessarily start in France, and I hadn't discussed this with any French People. Do you think foreign intervention -from the Occidental nations that yet remain free- will be necessary to unseat the vile Satrap Macron? 

and, from an unanswered ask because I HAVE FUCKING LIMITS.

When I pointed out that your country would be better of under a monarch, or with externally-imposed regime change, you scoffed at me. Now the aspiring god-king is readying his merciless troops to slaughter your countrymen, cementing his iron rule with a mortar of blood and tears. I was correct, from the very beginning.

I mean I don’t want to sound mean, anon, but there is a difference between "Macron & his gvt are flirting with authoritarianism by exploiting the weakness of the Vth Republics institutions and of representative democracy because he’s fucked, with on one side a population that doesn’t want his reforms and on the other the private interests that helped him get where he is (+the actually hard-to-avoid obligations that come with being part of the EU)" and "immortal god-king” bullshit. 

I bolded the important parts. Look, what Macron & co are doing is gaming the system, so to speak (see first bolded part), and not to establish some kind of dictatorship headed by an immortal god-king or whatever, but because overall the french are chauvinists attached to their conception of social and economic justice who have been noping in the face of unchecked neoliberalism, and that’s no good for das kapital. Macron’s doing exactly what’s been done by many others -- he went from banking to public service, and he probably intends to go back to banking, and the point of his public stint isn’t politics or even ruling or power, it’s to enact reforms benefitting his class and open the door wide to that unchecked neoliberalism the general public doesn’t like much. His plans for Europe are in the continuity of this. 

But the thing is, Macron didn’t really do anything our previous gvts. didn’t do (beyond not bothering to hide his class disdain, which certainly helped to get people against him. most politicians at least have the sense to use lube before fucking us over, but his party is amazingly shitty on that end), he’s just... accelerated the cadence. And sure he got where he is and did what he’s been doing not without some very illegal shit, but mostly because systemically the conditions were already there for him or someone like him -- there’s this old joke that everyone here knows and that says it all: we don’t have a president, we have a king.

Now don’t get me wrong, what’s going on here is shitty, and I’m afraid because it’s far from over, but we still have quiiite a way to go before dictatorship (we do have counterpowers, even the Senate got in on it), and I hate to admit it but if Macron’s refusing to step down of like, his own initiative, there is no ongoing procedure or motion or whatever that would obligate him to. As to the army, that shit is scary af but again, there’s a nuance to make -- although I’m really fucking scared that they might end up firing on people during protests and the communication around their deployment at the last protest was abysmal, the gvt. doesn’t want them to fire. I’m afraid it will happen not in the sense that they will be ordered to fire, I’m not quite there yet, but in the sense that the Sentinelle (the concerned unit) are not trained for crowd control. The gvt. also doesn’t want to use them outside of the specific context of GJ protests (and yknow, their actual duties). The Sentinelle people are an anti-terrorism brigade, and calling them specifically is part of the ongoing effort to depict GJ as... well, terrorists, or at the very least definitely dangerous. 

It was also a gambit. They’re still hoping they’ll find THE thing to keep the GJ home, and the fact that they’re down to waving the threat of the army around (and again, I Worry, but that’s what putting the Sentinelle specifically where the GJ are not supposed to protest amounts to, abysmal communication notwithstanding) when people are already aware protesting might kill them (because it happened!!), among other ugly consequences is scary af, yes, but it’s also a sign that the gvt.’s options to maintain itself have dwindled something crazy. You call the army when you’re losing control, not when you have it. 

Because again, our man Manu is kinda stuck between a rock and a hard place. On the one hand, he’s got the GJ and little popular support, and an actual politician would have to factor that. But on the other hand, that boy owes. He owes to those who helped put him where he is to defend their interests and who keep helping him so that he keeps doing exactly that. He can’t give the GJ what they want without losing that support, he can’t leave without losing that support, and without it he’s just plain fucked. 

So basically we’re in a complicated situation! The specters of full-blown authoritarianism, plutocratic dictatorship, and who knows what other horrors loom on the horizon. But so do others, like the specter of our victory, and now that we’ve seen it...

The thing is that we’ve won a huge battle already, because Macron was supposed to deliver a success story. He was supposed to reform the unreformable! To maintain the oh so practical ‘populism’ (ie. the far right and the left -- it’s not quite the same here as in the US, but we’re seeing a similar displacement of meaning wrt. the left, the far left and the ‘center’) vs ‘liberalism’ (ie. unchecked neoliberalism basically) pseudo-opposition, in which one is the only solution to the other, the only alternative! He was supposed to be the youthful, energic face of progressism, a Mozart of finance who would deliver where traditional politicians couldn’t. He was supposed to unite ze french beyond political and social divides (and he kinda did do that, ironically enough), and a bunch of shit besides. 

We fucked that up, and we fucked it up good. Most of the merit is his, though -- he got us to the current situation. He got us to people asking for his head (metaphorically), but more than that, he got us to realize what’s become a slogan: fin du monde, fin du mois, même combat -- end of the world, end of the month, same fight, and he got us talking about the relative merits of participative and representative democracy and how our institutions should work and for whom because collective intelligence is actually a thing and we realized he is a symptom and it’s the root we need to go after. Not that no one knew it before, but the trajectory from protests against an oil tax to the protests we have now, that’s a victory unto itself.  

Anyway, I forgot the point somewhere, but overall, going from the symbolic “jupiterian presidency” WHICH IS WHAT TCS WAS REFERRING TO FFS to the painfully literal “Macron has announced his intention to rule your homeland and countrymen in perpetuity as an eternal dictator, even going so far as to proclaim himself a manifestation of divinity“ etc etc is still a really bad take (and I’m not Going There but “New Reconquista” is not an innocuous term). Reality is weird and shitty enough as it is, thanks.