#she probably feels abandoned by her father (with whom she at least shared some interests) and betrayed by taox

[flowers-of-io]

me: *has savathun on her header pic on both mobile and pc, and sathona as icon, writes every second fic about sav, #aunt savathun is probably in the top 5 of most used tags*

me: so my favourite of the osmium sibs is aurash,

[kit-herondale-carstairs]

TDA Characters on TikTok

Julian: doesn’t post very often because he is a father but when he does it is always him painting or drawing something with lofi music or him sharing a tidbit about one of the children or other family members (Kieran, Cristina, Diana, Emma and Aline included and always with their explicit permission). 

- He’s very popular without even trying and most assume he is a young single father (which isn’t wrong).

-  Mostly finds himself on cottagecore or parent side of tiktok. 

- doesn’t understand all the thirsty comments he gets because “I don’t even show my face, Emma, why would they think I’m attractive?” but always shares them with Emma because they make her laugh.

Emma: Does it for the girls and the gays, that’s it. Posts nearly every day and page is generally a mixture of self defense videos, vintage makeup/dress tutorials, and videos slamming the patriarchy but also always does the latest dancing videos and other trends.

- always tries to get others to join in on her trend videos, mostly joined by Mark and Cristina when she can rope her in.

- Nearly broke tiktok when she got Julian to do the “You could have been nicer to me” trend because NO ONE KNEW THEY WERE DATING  AND EVEN THOUGH THEY COULDN’T SEE HIS FACE EVERYONE RECOGNIZED HIS VOICE AND HE WAS SO SWEET WHEN HE OFFERED TO TAKE HER TO HER FAVORITE THRIFT STORE AND BUY HER SOME DRESSES AFTER HE PUT THE “BABY” DOWN FOR HIS NAP. 

- - everyone knows the “baby” is actually at least seven but no one ever said his name because he’s too young so everyone collectively knows him as “the baby”

- solidly on gay tiktok even though she’s straight. 

Mark: Daily blogs. Everyone thinks he’s shit posting because it’s all wild things like standing in a middle of a circle of flowers and talking about “this pixie named Aelia lives here and she’s a BITCH”. Often shows videos of him cooking or baking wild concoctions that range from “Okay, I’d try that” to “this is why God has abandoned us”. 

- Does dancing videos with Emma all the time and often acts as the “creeper” in her self defense videos. 

- Caused a meltdown on tiktok when he casually mentioned his “partners” and started creating videos to raise awareness for polyamory. 

- Revealed Julian was his brother when he posted a video of Julian yelling at him for a solid minute because “the baby is covered in honey, why is the baby covered in honey, Mark? We don’t let the baby bathe in honey even if he really wants to Mark -” 

- solidly on cooking and gay tiktok, often takes a sharp left into “crackhead” tiktok

Kieran: Posts videos of cats he finds and rates them. The lowest ever was a 9.5/10 because “she bit me fairly hard but I scared her and I deserved it for trying to pet her without permission”. 

- does not do any trends or reveal much personal information. 

- Was always considered wholesome until he (on a dare from Dru) posted a video joking about choking a bossy sub that rounded up on kinktok. 

-- everyone went through a brief freak out trying to figure out if he had a partner but it was never solved. 

--- No one noticed that Mark posted a video joking about how “one of his partners was absolutely in the doghouse” accompanied by someone sitting in a cardboard ‘doghouse’ around the exact same time. 

- solidly on animal tiktok but occasionally veers into kinktok with more (less explicit) dom/sub humor. 

Cristina: Does not have her own tiktok but often appears in videos with Emma and occasionally shows up in Mark’s. 

- Absolute sweetheart always, even when she is demonstrating a self defense move with Emma, and is always commended for trying Mark’s foods. 

-- especially commended when trying the foods while, offscreen, their other partner yells about “Hell food” 

- is flattered with all the comments begging her to start her own tiktok but doesn’t feel like she has the time to fully commit to one properly. 

Livvy: (She’s alive, don’t @ me) Does absolutely all the new trends and also does various acting POVs 

- her soulmate POVs are most popular but she also is known for dueting act-along POVS with other popular creators

- also occasionally posts videos rating the best male actors/superheroes and once got into a long drawn out back to back war with someone on whether or not Captain America really had “America’s ass” 

- had a very popular multiple-part series about being a girl in the MCU dating the various Avengers but ended it abruptly after Endgame because “Natasha Romanoff deserved better and it hurts too much”

-she used to post occasional videos where she laments on being the “only single person in the family” but she started getting some very creepy duets and comments from actual adults so she told Julian and they both agreed it would be better for her to stop them

-- Julian did take the time to duet the people being inappropriate and explained very clearly that their actions were wrong and directed towards a LITERAL CHILD and shamed multiple accounts into flat out deleting

Ty: Posts literally whatever interests him. Has two animal series - one where he shares facts about his favorite kinds of animals and one where he showcases various animals he’s found in the tidepools or around the house. 

- has done several video series of rescuing animals and has at least one where Julian could be heard lecturing him on trying to raise wild animals in his bedroom again 

-- tiktok freaked out because this happened right around the same time as Julian calling out all the creeps on Livvy’s tiktok and no one knew that the twins he talked about were them  

- also does videos about his favorite literary works - notably Sherlock Holmes - and true crime/mystery videos 

-- he always makes sure to carefully put in warnings for anything remotely violent or triggering and has never had a single video taken down for violating the rules even when he did a multiple part series on the Black Dahlia and how her crime was ‘absolutely solved but because the man who did it was rich and white, he got away with it and probably also killed at least two other women, one of whom was killed in the Philippines” 

-  sometimes does twin videos with Livvy because she likes them and it makes her happy. 

Dru: Queen of witch/horror/true crime tiktok. 

- got in trouble with Julian for showing actual runes in videos but everyone just thought they were for the aesthetic so it was fine

- most popular videos is a series where she rates horror movies on how they do on the bechdel test 

- sometimes duets Ty’s or Livvy’s videos just to drag them (with love) 

- Has a very popular series on “women who snapped” and is known for almost rarely during part 2s (and therefore having to speak very very fast) 

- also complains constantly because her videos will get taken down even if they aren’t that violent and includes clips from far worse videos from male creators to point out the double standard

- occasionally dives into tiktok drama just to dabble and then sits on the sidelines and watches it happen

-- 100% built a balloon arch to flex on That Balloon Girl 

- solidly on witchtok and horrortok

Kit: King of petty/messy tiktok who also posts random videos about crime and occasional blogs

- switches from either sharing no information to borderline oversharing childhood trauma

- shares videos on borderline illegal ways to get back at exfriends/expartners/exfamily members/general enemies 

-- putting fish in people’s vents, subscribing them to magazines under various similar names, sending them glitter in the mail, opening their oreos and taking out the middle of all of them, putting baby locks on their cabinets and in the outlets they can’t see (like under the bed so they can’t get plug in their cellphone charger at night), etc. 

- is always eating some sort of snack, no matter what he is doing

- also posts videos about personal safety like what locks will actually keep people out and what ones are easy to break into

--caused several minor freakouts when he casually mentioned his father taught him how to do it

- occasionally posts videos with an adorable toddler and a young couple who he refers to as “mom and dad” even though they look at MOST five years older than him and he often makes parental abandonment jokes/comments

- no idea where he lives because he speaks in an American accent and talks constantly about American/California life but everything around him looks very British 

- absolutely dives head first into every tiktok drama and will go for the throat for anyone who makes ableist/sexist/racist/homophobic comments without hesitation

-- his drags are legendarily savage and he has caused numerous problematic accounts to just straight up disappear

- duets videos from Livvy, Dru, Mark, Emma and Julian ( with lots of savage drags) but no one knows how he knows them because he is absolutely somewhere in the UK and all of them are based in California/US

-- he also notably NEVER duets Ty

--- the mystery is finally solved when Kit does a livestream and reveals that he met all of them because he was briefly living with them before getting placed with his family, the young couple who actually are his mom and dad 

---- he is very vague about the living situation but everyone assumes he was a foster child 

- he once caused a mass freakout on Tiktok (that actually spilled over to twitter and buzzfeed) when he announced he was going back to the US to visit friends and then posted a video with the caption “when you see your boyfriend in person for the first time in MONTHS but he’s too distracted by some wet 🐱” 

-- the video panned out from Kit’s unamused face to Ty gently rubbing a tiny wet kitten  with a soft cotton towel 

[watayaaratamblr]

Arata is an unfortunate character.

No, he is NOT!

But if we wish to make him one, then we don't need one fifth of the effort put into making Taichi the "sad" character that most fans keep labeling as "Poor Taichi", and Arata would have been then the most unfortunate character in Chihayafuru. All we need is a good mangaka (Suetsugu is!) & the intention to make him draw sympathy (the whole point), simply because Arata’s story is well packed with good material serving the purpose.

Starting with the fact that he was an almost blind child … Like “looking through a magnifying glass”, hearing voices outside but being unable to see anything~ A child who had to wear glasses from the age of 3, any writer can make this a touching story if so they wished -But Suetsugu sensei did not want to.

Growing up as a weak boy who is a letdown in everything most boys do, crying alone when he fails to fit in, disappointing his father who kept pushing him to go outside and be “normal” like all the other children all while letting go of Karuta that he was confirmed to have liked since he was very young. Writing a bit of his struggles to find a place for himself within the norms could have made readers cry a lot.

His grandfather thankfully extended his hand to him, offered him a place where he can be himself; But that too, created a situation where he maybe had to take a side & deal somehow with the other side because his grandfather & his father had a fight and he can only be torn between them. I’m no writer myself, but I can make this sentimental.

Then his father took him away to Tokyo where he had to be a part of a poor family, and not only to cancel his needs & desires (like for example having different outfits for school instead of the few he will be noticed to wear frequently) but to also work sometimes to support his parents, to wake up before school time in the early mornings when other children are probably sound asleep in their warm beds, to go outside in the cold, to earn some cash and to give it to his parents … I read some real sad stories with this idea. So yeah, Arata could have been one of the saddest characters if Suetsugu wanted him to be.

And not to mention being bullied and laughed at for not only his impoverishment (which he can hope to change) but for his identity (as a boy from Fukui speaking a “weird” dialect). He received all this with lot of patience, and tried to comfort himself by himself with his grandfather’s “gift”, how it was a refugee for him.

Any writer can make a sob story out of Arata’s unspoken loneliness & yearning for home, his grandpa & for playing his beloved Karuta properly.

Or out the fact that he couldn’t make any friends in his new school either (he was confirmed to never have real friends since his childhood through the fact that he struggled to fit in + he stayed like that even after he grew up (like Murao said), and he is not someone who doesn’t care about having friends because he was confirmed to almost worship his bond with Taichi & Chihaya, Taichi specifically even though their friendship isn’t really a comforting one; he longed for friendship however it is!)

He enjoyed that friendship nonetheless, he might even have felt like he was compensated for everything he wished for through it but he was soon robbed of all of it as he was separated from these friends & while he could still enjoy a bit of it through correspondence (at least Chihaya kept in touch), he wasn't as untroubled as needed for that because he was about to lose his precious grandfather.

And the process of losing him wasn’t something to take lightly either. Having busy (or rather negligent?) parents made him (a boy not even 14 years old) a caregiver for an old man who suffered from paralysis on the right side of his body and later dementia, not as simple as that, he had to watch what his most beloved & respected person turn into day & night, when he worked “really hard” (as stated in the manga) with his rehabilitation exercises, when he helped him with his baths, he massaged his limbs, he fed him, constantly talked to him & showed him Karuta cards to “keep him” in this world. And when it's too much for him, he goes outside the room and cries bitter tears silently, all alone! There was this person who suffered from (PTSD) for years because their sick aunt didn’t recognize them (they were her favorite nephew before & they were 17 yo at the time), this person couldn’t visit her since & couldn’t see her before she died & they developed a fear of “getting too close” & of seeing sick people, they had to seek long & serious therapeutic help. And Arata actually suffered from PTSD for over a year & half, any psychologist can easily recognize that from the fact that he quit Karuta, refused to touch & hated to see the cards (I stress on this), how he answered Chihaya when she called him, how the calm & patient him (that we knew from his childhood) was agitated & treated her rudely when she insisted on playing a match. And it was all confirmed in Arata’s last words in the same chapter: “I wanted to see you, I always had, but I didn’t want you to see me like this” (in the official tr), he knew that he wasn’t himself (contrary to what Taichi thought, his friend who decided to abandon him instead of trying to help. Chihaya still had faith in him but Taichi was louder -ch10)

Still, thanks to Chihaya, Arata was back to his beloved Karuta, though we all questioned how much fun he really felt while playing again, how much of him was involved with the game now. And eventually, he himself expressed the pressure (not the fun) he felt while playing. What took his passion away, what turned the feelings of a Karuta baka into mere obligation, this also is good content for an emotionally charged story, it only needs the intention of the writer.

And he shone in the world of Karuta. YET he was never “proud” of it, that was never received as anything special. When he comes back home, none really cares (or at least, none shows any enthusiasm), he goes to the western-challenger qualifiers and his parents won’t even go watch, won’t even prepare some food for him, he comes back home late & finds none, and prepares everything by himself (apart from Yu’s help). His parents pray for his defeat, meaning that his DREAM to become Meijin/be strongest in Karuta doesn’t mean much to them, and he knows it, and he was never shown telling them the news like when you want to share a happy one. Arata’s mother -before giving up after acknowledging Arata’s dedication- wanted his defeat even though there was enough money to support him, the lack of money being the excuse she & her husband claimed to be the reason of their lack of support.

The support system Arata lacks isn’t only in his family. Since the death of his grandfather he seems to stand alone in Karuta too. Murao was the only one who spared some time for him but only after he realized how “alone” he was and took pity on him. Murao's realization implies that the training Arata was doing at the Nagumo society didn’t really count for what he really needed. Kuriyama sensei (being expected by fans to be the “Harada” in Arata’s side) was almost useless & he himself expressed his confusion about what to do with him & how to help him. We never saw him particularly guide him in any way either. "Experiences" & "taking chances" were two factors that helped Mizusawa members for example to grow a lot, but these chances are doors without knobs & we know that they were opened for them by adults who were taking care of them in a way or another + being friends ensured that they encouraged each other then proceeded with every idea they got to learn & experience more. Arata lacks both these sources (adults around him rather burdened him with their expectations) so he kept training on his own mostly & we saw how it felt frustrating to him to be relying only on his solo training & an "image" encouraged by a long-dead teacher, he realized the toll of lacking real opponents in practice with whom he can measure his abilities & correct his mistakes to grow stronger. Support can also be emotional. Did Arata ever receive particular emotional support? I can only remember panels where the people worried for him kept watching him from afar while he dealt with it on his own.

Yu was an exception but even her support was written in a way suggesting that Arata was prepared to go on without it. Because with time, Arata learnt to "not expect much" which is also a very interesting trope for a sad story.

And he was described as “a lonely player on top” but this was never elaborated to show how it felt like to be one for Arata himself. This idea is also brilliant for melancholy if the author wanted fans to sympathize with Arata but she didn't go beyond praising Chihaya who could somehow reach him & Shinobu chan.

And while playing on his own (or working part time to support himself), taking care of himself, he met his two precious friends again (they were the only selfish desire Arata has openly expressed throughout the series). But what he felt is that he was left behind & that he was the only one so far away. And he was. They got to experience so many things he didn’t, they made new friends & new bonds & he didn’t, they got closer to each other & he didn’t… At the end he went back to be the outsider & them the two old childhood friends. If the author wrote just a little bit more about these, if she highlighted these facts they could have made a good drama.

Love is the main reason Taichi is "felt for" (because he progressed in karuta but not in Love ..not yet at least). Arata is also a part of the love triangle in Chihayafuru, and if we try to summarize it with the intention of making it sad, then let's go, there is enough to say for that, we just need a good writer (which I'm not sadly). Still in short: Arata seems to have started to develop feelings for Chihaya a long time ago but he had to keep that in check because he thought she was dating Taichi & he kept his distance out of respect for that assumed relationship even though he craved at least connecting with his old friends. When he came closer, Chihaya was interested in him but he never knew, the enthusiasm she showed him was not different from how she is with everyone, no, Taichi received special treatment, while for him, every time he tries to say something to her he is cut off somehow. Everything seemed to be against them getting close. Later Chihaya seemed to have ultimate fun with Taichi too, maybe that was the only thing he thought he could give her, now she didn't need it. Maybe he had that thought again when she praised his game against Harada sensei that's why he confessed but soon, She is once again so far away, she seemed to need Taichi to function properly, he understood that & he used that to cheer her up in her most important tournament. He wanted badly to play with her again to only be totally iced, he couldn't even be seen by her, he was so far away, she belonged to where he wasn't part of (& even her friend kana found a way to express her disapproval of him) Can we not make a drama out of this? Or out of his stuttering, awkwardness & introversion? Or maybe the fact that his parents don't understand him? And did anyone alse feel that in most of Taichi's mother's appearances, we got this feeling that Taichi is a son who should be cared for while when Arata's parents appeared, many times, we can feel how Arata was used to highlight their feelings as individuals & he was drawn there as the member of the family who had to pay attention to that? Anyway, every single one of these points alone is very good material for a "tearjerker" so what about all of them combined? because they are all facts from Arata's reality.

Again, all we need is a good writer (we have it) & the intention to make it that way which isn't there. Suetsugu decided instead to put double the effort to make Taichi the "sorrowful/anguished" one because Arata is not a character written to feel sorry for or to commiserate. He is rather written for the most part of the manga as an inspiring one, an aspiration, to be a drive & a goal. So despite having all the above circumstances, he is instead written as a character who keeps to himself, doesn't complain, hides his hardships, makes it seem that he fine when he notices that someone is watching, tries to focus on what he has & be happy with it however little or simple. That's why it's easy for him to forget & forgive, easy for him to recover & stand up again because there are other characters who need him there as an example, who think that he is perfectly fine so they should only focus on themselves and thus, Bildungsroman can be used for them. And finally- wait, what were Taichi's problems again?

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

Writer adds:

[conspirwbytheorist-inactive]

Some Cinder Thoughts

So I saw this post from @hoepunkausta a while back and was going to reply. Then I realized that this was the first time I’d actually sat down and taken a good look at Cinder and holy cow is there a lot to this character. Anyways, it got me thinking about Cinder's potential background and, while I've always seen her as a foil and tied to Ruby, I never realized how she could potentially tie in to ALL of team RWBY. Which is. . .pretty awesome from not only a narrative point of view but in regards to character redemption as well. Full take under the cut.

TLDR: If we assume Cinder’s backstory is in keeping with the popular version of the Cinderella tale, it ties-in to a lot of the our heroes’ traumas, giving each of them a reason to relate to her. Currently, Salem maintains control over Cinder by presenting herself as the fairy godmother, because were Cinder to see her as the stepmother she was, she would potentially leave. Were she to break away from Salem, recognizing her shared traumas with the members of Team RWBY could provide her with the connection needed to grow and heal as a person.

***Content Warning: Mentions of abuse/abuser tactics***

Intro

The post itself is pretty simple. Do we think Cinder came from an abusive background or do we think she came from a normal family that died under tragic circumstances before she met Salem? I’d always gotten the vibe that Cinder came to Salem searching for power after a life of rather horrific abuse similar to a more traditional Cinderella story.

The way she craves power, not just as a resource but as something she desperately needs for her own survival (her line about Pyrrha “taking her fate into her own hands” in V2 and the “I refuse to starve” of V7 come to mind), leads to believe that she came from a home that didn’t allow her much freedom or agency. She seems to know exactly what it feels like to not be in control of her own life and, now that she has found her escape from it (Salem), refuses to ever go back.

But how does this translate into ties to Team RWBY? She obviously has been foiled with Ruby, but the other 3? Kind of a big leap to make. Well, stick with me. Naturally, when thinking of a Cinder backstory, it makes sense to look at her main allusion, the Cinderella fairy tale.

A Cinder Story

Cinderella doesn’t start her story with an evil stepmother and step sisters. By most accounts she started out fairly privileged. With that in mind, imagine this woman, who we have come to know as a murdering power-driven villain, as a small child with seemingly everything she needed. A loving family, relative financial stability, decent social standing, etc. until one day, out of nowhere. Her mother dies. And suddenly she finds her world turned upside down. Her father remarries to a woman who loathes her and, who, after his death, does her best to control her, isolate her. Everyday she is told she is lesser than her sisters, meant to act as a servant. To cope with the difficult circumstances, she daydreams about a perfect place (in the main story, the ball/landed nobility but in Cinder’s case perhaps the opulence of Atlas) where if she can just prove herself good enough, endure enough pain, she can finally earn a happy ever after.

Now, what’s interesting here is that in just this bare bones outline of the Cinderella story, we touch on the key traumas of each of our four protagonists. Ruby and Summer’s death, Weiss’s isolation and molding under Jacques, Blake’s experience of racism as a faunus and abuse under Adam and Yang’s attempting to live up to Summer’s ideal to cope with abandonment. Which is really fricking cool because it means if ANY of this hypothetical backstory were to come to light, at least SOMEONE if not EVERYONE from the team has a potential point of empathy for where Cinder is coming from.

Something I love about RWBY is how it (for the most part) does its best to show how people are not inherently good or evil, but rather products of their circumstances and environment. So imagine the narrative and thematic potential of a villain for whom each of our cast could theoretically look at and think “Wow. That really could have been me” instead of “look at this monster”. A moment where they realize that, had things gone a bit differently, had they not been a position to cope with their traumas and actively choose to love instead of being engulfed by their pain and anger, they very much could have been this story’s villains rather than its heroes. A moment where, through Cinder, they concretely realize themselves as products of choice rather than destiny and, in that same vein, perhaps Cinder can see the same for herself.

Okay, but what about the Salem part? If we reduce “badness” all to a matter of choice ignores another key theme of RWBY: the importance of an awesome support network and team to back you up. At every point of the series our heroes have had someone to help them. Ruby had Yang and Qrow growing up before her team and JNR after Beacon, Weiss had Winter and Klein, Blake Ilia and Sun, and Yang had Ruby growing up and Tai after Beacon. But who did Cinder have to help her through her darkest times? No one. Except Salem.

The Case of the Fairy Stepmother

That brings me to the second part of the question: Is Salem the stepmother or Fairy Godmother? Honestly I think it’s both. The real question (and what I think will be the biggest obstacle for Cinder growing as a character) is how does Cinder see it?

In the Cinderella story, the Fairy Godmother and Evil Stepmother play opposing roles. Stepmother does all that she can to keep Cinderella underfoot and away from realizing her full potential as a person while the Fairy Godmother steps in when Cindy is at her lowest and uses her magic to give her all that she needs to get that “Happily Ever After”. In theory it should be impossible for one person to be both at the same time, but turns out it’s a matter of perspective.

Imagine Cinder at her lowest point. Maybe she was a no-name seamstress in Argus who daydreamed about being swept up into the glamour of the Atlas elite. Maybe she was a scared kid who saw becoming a huntress as her ticket out of poverty and into a life of adventure. Imagine her getting that wish of her own accord. Playing the game, doing everything right, biding her time until finally, she escapes - only to find herself trapped in a new way. (a Prince Charming who controls her as a plaything, a student not willing to be a child soldier, there are so many possibilities here). Only to see that the system was stacked against her in way where she could never escape it under her own power. That’s. . . a lot to process and a feeling of hopelessness that I think a lot of us can relate to (especially in our current world-state).

Then Salem comes in and not only promises Cinder the power to create her own destiny, but delivers it. Cinder goes from having almost nothing to magically receiving the means to accomplish anything she desired. All because of Salem. I see a lot of people question why Cinder is so loyal to Salem, but given this view, it’d be very difficult for her not to feel indebted to her savior in some regard.

Furthermore, Salem seems relatively fond of Cinder. She defends her from ridicule in Volume 4, goes out of her way to praise her strengths and, honestly, seems to have more patience with her than the rest of WTCH.  Given her backstory, I wouldn’t even be remotely surprised if what drew Salem to Cinder was the chance to give this angry young woman the power she wished that she had had prior to her curse. It’s almost. . . motherly. In a way I would expect a millennia old woman driven mad by isolation and Grimm Lakes and a very traumatized Cinder to view motherhood.

But, that doesn’t mean that the two have a healthy relationship. We as the audience see how Salem’s “love” comes at a price. She never hesitates to keep Cinder underfoot: oscillating between praise and threats of punishment, criticizing Cinder’s discomfort in Volume 4 as weakness, and making it clear that Cinder is only important to her insofar as her usefulness. The whole “Without you I am nothing” really illustrates how far out of her way Salem goes to make Cinder painfully aware that all that she has, all that she has accomplished is because of Salem’s magic. Salem hasn’t helped Cinder as a benefactor. A benefactor would let Cinder proceed to live her own life. Salem has instead taken advantage of Cinder’s lack of any support network and feelings of isolation to establish herself as Cinder’s sole source of support.

While we as an audience can see how abusive this dynamic is, Cinder can’t. Right now, she’s more or less fully embedded in Salem’s manipulation tactics - Salem’s narrative is her truth. And, even if she does come to see it (don’t think I missed the hints of resentment in the trailer), there’s nowhere for her to go. What can she do? Go rogue? The woman has an entire Grimm army! Turn to Emerald, Mercury, or Neo? They’re all either children or also in on all this! Just like the Stepmother, so long as Salem keeps Cinder feeling isolated, the chances of her escaping or changing remain slim.

Seeds of Support and Redemption

So, that leaves us with two things Cinder needs in order to break away from Salem:

Recognizing Salem as a controlling/toxic “Stepmother” figure instead of a  “Fairy Grimm-Mother” and that this is NOT what she wants out of life.

Finding connections/a support network she can go to after leaving

This is why Cinder having parallels to all of Team RWBY is so frickin cool. I’m still not 100% certain of a full Cinder redemption. Like, I love her as a character. But part of the reason I love her is that she is a hot mess who will go full ride or die no matter the situation. So getting her to even pause and go “is this what I want out of my life?” is probably going to take something pretty drastic to rattle her current convictions.

However, that being said, I find it really suspicious that the team would take a character that could be used to parallel the traumas of all four main heroes and just hang her out to dry. In a different show, I might think they could set her up with a death as a warning for our protagonists. But, that doesn’t make sense. Every possible warning I can think of motivating Cinder’s death is already being conveyed by another character. The dangers of falling to spite? Adam. Isolation causes only weakness and pain? Raven. Sacrificing humanity for the sake of power is a crap idea? Ironwood.

Instead, these seems like a great way to set up a situation where Cinder can find connection. After all, if our team could potentially look at Cinder and go “This could have been me”, what’s to stop Cinder from looking at them, seeing their pain and how they support each other, and going “Huh. Maybe this could be me?”. Especially if something radical has just happened to get her to want to break away from Salem for whatever reason. Maybe I’m just crazy, maybe I’ve been sitting on this too long, but I think that that would be really cool for a show about the power of love and connection to have its longest-term “villain” illustrate how, given support and humanity, victims of abuse can grow and find genuine connection with people.

[whatisthiscontentyouspeakof]

A Cold Days Night that Changes Everything

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Chapter 1: The Hogwarts Express

Harry ran his hands through Vulpa’s hair, detangling it and spreading the curls out into a bigger poof of hair then it normally was. Professor McGonagall had taken them to the train that would take them to Hogwarts early in the day, before any of the other students arrived as a way not to overwhelm them. Neither he nor his sisters mentioned that they were prepared their whole lives for when they would leave Azkaban and end up in a whole new world falloff stimuli and thus weren’t as easily overwhelmed as the adults thought they'd be. 

Harry had to admit, even if it was just himself, that he was enamoured by the bright bright red that the Hogwarts Express was mainly coloured and a part of him debated using his limited Metamorphmagus abilities to colour his hair the same red colour but ultimately decided against it, knowing it would bring him too much unwanted attention. The inside of the train was mainly neutral colours that Harry was most familiar with, with pops of colour representing the four house even spread throughout the compartments, mainly in the hallway between the different cabins. The seats were plush and soft and comfortable, covered in a faded medium pale blue fabric that was similar to the colour of the sky on some of the less stormy days in Azkaban, bringing Harry a sense of comfort he hadn’t expected. 

Vulpa and Delphi had settled down across from each other, pulling down the table attached to the wall and quickly set up a chess game, a favourite of Vulpa’s and started trying to out maneuver each other. Harry had a few books he wanted to read, mainly about different gaps he had in his education that had happened in the magical world in the last ten years, but for now was content to play with his sisters hair. 

Draco and Narcissa Malfoy had been helping them catch up, educating them on law changes that their parents and uncles hadn’t been free to know about and teach them, and who they’d be going to school with that was of importance. Lucius Malfoy had mainly just interacted with them to make sure they were presentable, buying them clothing and bringing in a tailor to make sure their clothing fit and had room to grow since they were still growing. He had tried to get Harry to replace his glasses with ones that were more fashionable but Harry had refused, liking the idea that his glasses were the same circular shape that his birth fathers had been, even if they were oversized, and he also hadn’t wanted to give up his first piece of successful transfiguration that he had down when he was seven. 

The first students started trickling in around 9:30, mostly older students with badges on their clothing, some of whom where in robes and some in Muggle clothing. Harry realized that they were probably different house prefects and had arrived early so they could help out other student, probably focusing on first years and making sure everyone made it on the train fine. 

By 10:30 the platform was starting to fill up with students all trying to get around each other, putting their baggage on the train and say good-bye to their family. There were also a number of students, all of whom Harry considered to be quiet inconsiderate, forming groups with their friends, catching up on what they had done over the summer. They were acting as if they wouldn’t be sitting together on the train, or about to spend the next several months living together before going home for winter break. He had noticed several smaller kids, likely first years, getting trapped behind some of these groups or trying to squeeze by to get on the train and not being able to. 

Ten minutes before the train as set to leave the station, most the students started to board the train, saying their final goodbyes and making sure they had all their belongings. Harry was grateful that any of his and his sisters stuff were already at Hogwarts in the private chamber they were going to share, though of course Harry would have a place in whatever house he was sorted in. It seemed like such a hassle to move around with a large chest and any other personal belongings. Why didn’t people shrink their luggage down to a more manageable size? A majority fo the students would have at least one magical parent if they weren’t old enough to do magic outside of school. It didn’t make sense to him.

Minutes before the train was set to leave, a large group of red heads made their way through the platform from the Muggle entrance. There was only one adult in the group of red heads, a plump woman who was herding what appeared to be her four sons towards the train, her hand grasping her daughter, which judging by the grumpy sad look on her face, she wasn’t yet old enough to be attending Hogwarts. The eldest of the children had a badge on his outfit, another prefect and likely the last to arrive, how irresponsible. He instantly moved away from his family, dragging his chest behind him. The next boys in age, a set of twins judging by appearance, left not long after, abandoning their youngest brother and sister to their mothers attention. 

The mother was interesting, fusing over her two youngest children in a way that Bellatrix never did. Curios to see how else she different, after all Harry knew people out in the world didn’t consider Bellatrix to be a good mom even if he and his sisters thought differently, Harry lowered the compartments window just enough to hear what was happening on the platform. 

“Ron, you’ve got something on your nose.” The mother reached out and grabbed the boy who had tried to jerk out of the way, and began rubbing the end of his nose. The entire motion was strange to Harry who grew up surrounded by dirt and filth and general lack of cleanliness that no one bother trying to clean off any weird marks or dirt spots, it was pointless after all.

“Mum- geroff,” The boy said, his voice whiny as he wiggled free from his mothers tight grasp.

“Aaah, has ickle Ronnie got somefink on his nosie? said one fo the twins, whom had rejoined his family.

“Shut up,” Ron hissed. At least that was familiar to Harry. Some days ‘shut up’ was a favourite saying of his family members. 

“Where’s Percy?” The mother demanded.

“He’s coming now.” The same twin said.

The oldest became striding into sight, walking with a confidence and a grace that his other family members lacked. He had changed into his school robes at some point, transferring his prefect badge over, the red and gold badge, identifying him as a Gryffindor, standing out more on the black fabric of the robes then his ratty warm toned clothing that he’d been wearing before.

“Can’t stay long, Mother,” he said. “I’m up front, the pRefects have got two compartments to themselves-“

“Oh, are you a Prefect, Percy?” said the other twin, with mock surprise. “You should have said something, we had no idea.”

“Hang on,” the other twin added on, “I think I remember him saying something about it. Once-“

“Or twice-“

“A minutes-“

‘All summer-“

“Oh, shut up,” said Prefect Percy of Gryffindor. Harry couldn’t help but agree with him. These red headed twins came off as people who spoke like this often, which Harry found annoying. Then again, his sisters only ever did it when they were trying to be annoying which may be why he found it so annoying.

“how come Percy gets new robes, anyway?” said one of the twins.

“Because he’s a Prefect,” said their mother fondly. Harry thought nothing of the show of favouritism, his dad being the only person he knew who treated he and the girls equally all the time instead of treating them depending on how they were acting that day and if they did anything exceptionally well. “All right, dear, well, have a good term-send me an owl when you get there.”

She kissed Percy on the cheek and he left. Then she turned her attention to the twins, looking reading to start scolding them. Harry and the girls had had enough of those in their lives, mainly about visiting prisoners in other wings or getting too close to where guards were stationed, to know the look.

“Now, you two-this year, you behave yourselves. If I get one more owl telling me you’ve-you’ve blown up a toilet or-“

“Blown up a toilet? We’ve never blown up a toilet.”

“Great idea though, thanks, Mum.”

Harry felt like his dad may enjoy hearing a few stories about what these kids got up to at school. He had a feeling it was a lot like what his dad, this birth father and their friends got up to. 

“It’s not funny. And look after Ron.”

“Don’t worry, ickle Ronniekins is safe with us.”

“Shut up,” Ron said again, glaring at his twin brothers, almost tall enough to look them right in the eye.

A loud noise sounded. If Harry had been raised by anyone else or raised anywhere else, he might have been startled, as it was, he realized the sound was that of the trains horn and memorized the sound for future reference. The girls chess pieces startled before complaining about the sound, causing Vulpa to laugh and Dephi and him to smile. 

“Hurry up!” the mother outside yelled, causing all three boys to clamber on to the train, turning to lean out for her to kiss them goodbye and their younger sister began to cry.

“Don’t, Ginny, we’ll send you loads of owls.” One of the twins commented.

“We’ll send you a Hogwarts toilet seat.” The other twin said.

“George!”

“Only joking, Mum.”

The train started to move and Harry found himself distracted from the red haired family at he looked at his own. So far since leaving Azkaban the three them had travelled by boat, though they’d been unconscious, by carriage and by floo. They had never travelled by train before and Harry found himself enjoying all the new experiences, though he couldn’t help but make sure that his sisters were both fine. They were just as prepared mentally for the outside world as he had been, but there was only so much their imagination and the descriptions their family had given them could provide and there was the chance that all the new experiences became too much. If they were to be overwhelmed, it would be best for it to happen in privacy then around those who could one day turn into enemies. 

Both the girls looked up from their chess game to look out the window and the landscape passing them by. At first it was clusters of houses that flashed past the window, before they started to flicker out, appearing less and less as they headed towards the Scottish countryside. 

It was an hour into the ride before a student tried to interrupt them. The door to their compartment rattled as someone tried to open the door. Harry glanced at his sisters, who both instantly laid down to pretend to sleep as a tactic to prevent anyone from guessing at how young them were. Pleased that they were convincing enough, Harry went to the door, reaching out with his magic, before opening the door as if it was never locked to begin with.

“Malfoy,” he said pleasantly as he saw Draco Malfoy standing before him with a group of other students behind him. 

“Black,” Malfoy greeted back at him, one fo the few people who didn’t stumble over his preferred last name. “May I introduce you to some of our year mates?”

Harry studied him and his friends before stepping aside with a hum, letting Malfoy and his friends in and letting his sisters know they could sit back up and stop pretending to be asleep. Vulpa moved from her side of the compartment to sit beside Delphi as Harry took her spot, allowing the other students to sit down.

Harry studied the other children as they made themselves comfortable, knowing his sisters were doing the same. Two of Malfoy’s friends were male like him, while the other was female. 

The girl was tiny, almost as tall as Harry himself, who was aware that he was short for his age, Azkaban not having provided him with enough nutrition to grow as big and tall as his peers. She had deep brown pin straight hair that was cut straight across at chin level and across her forehead, not a single hair out of place or messy. Her cheeks still held some baby fat, rounding it out a bit, but the general shape seemed to be more oval then round. She had dark browns eyes that verged on black at stared back at him almost defiantly, her thin pink lips pressed together in a scowl, obviously not pleased to no longer being in her carriage and in Harry’s.

The two boys that had joined Malfoy, sitting on either side of the boy in question, were large, larger then any other child Harry had met, their build making it questionable whether they were overweight or muscular. Out of the corner of his eyes, Harry could see Delphi eyeing the one closet to her with interest, as if debating different ways to experiment on the other child and see how the kids build altered how his body reacted compared to her and the rest of her siblings tiny frames. 

“Blacks,” Malfoy said, leading the introduction once everyone was settled. “these are my companions,” he gestured towards the girl, “Pansy Parkinson of the Most Ancient and Noble house of Parkinson. Her brother, Heir Parkinson, graduated last year.” Harry nodded politely at the girl who nodded back, her scowl softening to something not quiet a scowl. His sisters didn’t bother doing or saying anything knowing that the second they did, attention would undeniably be put on them and it would be best to get introduction over with first so they knew who they were dealing with.

Malfoy guested towards the boy to his left, the one closest to the girls. “This is heir Vincent Crabbe, of the ancient house of Crabbe. He and his family have been assets to the Malfoy house for generations.” Harry realized that that meant that Crabbe was under the Malfoy’s family protection and as Harry and his sisters would be staying with the Malfoy’s int eh summer,  it would be best if they looked out for him as well. 

Crabbe, as Harry had already noticed, was quiet large, slighter shorter then the other large boy and defiantly rounder. His dark brown hair was cut close to his head, leaving it looking like a giant sphere then anything else. He had brown eyes that had a mean looking squint to them, though that was mostly the fat in his cheeks pushing up agains his eyes then him actually trying to look threatening at the moment. Tiny scars littered across his knuckles, barely noticeable but suggesting that the boy was already used to the odd fist fight. 

Malfoy gestured to the last boy. “This is heir Gregory Goyle of the ancient house of Goyle. like the Crabbe family, he and his family have been assets to the Malfoy house for generations.” Much like with the other two, Harry nodded politely as he studied the last boy. 

Goyle was the largest boy in the compartment, taller then Crabbe, though just as thick and large otherwise. His face was more rectangular then round and his hair was a lighter brown, one that one could even refer to as a dark blond in the right lighting. His eyes were a lighter brown with specs of green in them and his hair, while short, had a curl to it. While he didn’t look overly angry or intimidating the way Crabbe naturally looked, Harry knew that they boy was likely a lot meaner then Crabbe when push came to shove. 

Malfoy turned towards his companions. “Crabbe, Goyle and Parkinson, may I introduce you to my new companions and foster siblings, Hardwin, Vulpecula and Cassiopeia Black. Hardwin Black will be joining us as first years while the Black twins will be staying at Hogwarts until as family to Hardwin, but won’t be joining us as students for another two years.”

“Merry meet,” they all muttered as introductions were done and conversation could start. 

Delphi spoke up first. “As there are three of us Blacks, I am fine with being refereed to as Cassiopeia to try and avoid confusion.” she said politely but firmly. “Do not mistake it as me being overly familiar or allowing you to do so, I prefer my middle name over my first.”

The other children nodded at what his sister said, understanding that she was still to be treated in a formal respect and wasn’t inviting any of them in for friendship. 

Vulpa, not one to go far without her sister, even in conversations, decided to add her two knuts. “As I do prefer to go by first name, I can’t say the same to help alleviate confusion, but I am will to go by Little Black if it makes things easier when all of us are together or I am just with my brother, otherwise just Black will be fine.”

Again the other children agreed easily enough. Before any of them could give out any name preference a toad jumped through the tiny opening that Malfoy’s friends left in the compartments door. 

There was silence as everyone stared at the toad before Vulpa spoke. “Trevor!”  she said happily, getting up and picking the toad up.

The second the name left his sisters lips, Harry realized she was right. The toad was the one Neville Longbottom’s great uncle got him for getting acceptance into Hogwarts. Neville hadn’t been able to bring the toad to St. Mugo’s to show them but he did bring a photo of him receiving the toad that his grandmother had taken so that he could show them what a toad looked like.

“Trevor?” Malfoy asked, looking at the toad with a slight look of disgust on his face. 

Harry hummed in confirmation but it was Vulpa who spoke up, generally being the most talkative out of the three of them. “We met heir Longbottom during out short stay at St. Mugo’s. His great uncle Algie Longbottom bought him for him as a gift for Hogwarts.”

“Why? It’s useless. It’s not like it’s a magical breed.” Malfoy commented, the look of disgust still on his face. 

He wasn’t wrong. Toads had no used in the magical world in this day and age. Normal toads like Trevor were really only good to experiment on or as a potion ingredient. Magical breeds like the dragon toad could light tiny fires but so could a simple spell. The most useful breed of toad was the Giant Purple toad but even then most people passed on raising them unless they are a potioneer. Harry and the twins had to listen to Neville go on about different toads when he announced that he got one, going on about how everyone was going to make fun of him for it, but Harry had a feeling that Neville was still happy about having received Trevor. 

As if summed by his thoughts there was a timid knock on the door. Harry flicked his hand to the side connecting to his magic and forcing the door open without anyone having to get up. Neville Longbottom stood at the compartments doorway looking nervous and unsure as what to do now.

“Are you looking for Trevor?” Vulpa asked, holding said toad up for the other boy to see.

The boy nodded smiling with relief as Vulpa passed the toad off to him. 

Harry made a little hum noise as to get everyone’s attention. “Everyone, this is heir Neville Longbottom of the Most Ancient and Most Noble house of Longbottom.” he said. “Neville, this is heir Draco Malfoy, of Most Ancient and Most Noble, heir Vincent Crabbe of ancient, heir Gregory Goyle of ancient and Pansy Parkinson of Most Ancient and Noble houses.”

“Merry Meet,” Neville said awkwardly as the others repeated it back to him just as unsure. Seemed like dark families and light families didn’t know how to interact with each other. 

“Are you going to sit?” Delphi asked softly, speaking for the first time since the others had joined besides her polite ‘Merry Meet’ earlier. 

Neville looked unsure but eventually he sat down nervously. There was a moment of silence before Vulpa, sweet, smart, awkward silence breaking Vulpa spoke up. “So who here plays chess?”

Next

[reroseshi]

🦇Psychological Analysis of Diabolik Lovers❤:

Hi! I've decided for my first own Tumblr post that I should talk about the franchise that I have been a fan of for 6 years: Diabolik Lovers. After being in this fandom for so long I felt personally kinda cheap for me to just do a short funny post about DL

… sooo~~~ i've decided to share my personal psychological analysis on all the diaboys! Disclaimer: 

1-My memory is quite short and trying to analyse 13  fictional mentally ill boys is quite tricky so please be easy on me.^^

2- English isn't my first language so there might be some mistakes so please pardon me for that!

3- I am currently still working on the Mukami's, the Tsukinami's and Kino so they aren't gonna be in this post!

4- I based myself on the manga and MAINLY HDB and MB for my analysis.

Thank you and have a good reading!^^~ <3

-Rero

Sakamaki's:________________________________

-Shu Sakamaki:

Shu is the first born and the heir of the Sakamaki family. Thus, whether he wants it or not, it was decided even before he was born that he will be the victim of a lot of pressure. That pressure to become worthy of being the heir not only came from both of his parents but the servants as well. He couldn’t be free for two seconds. He was obliged to stay inside the castle/mansion (sometimes in the garden with his mom) to study and train, but he wasn’t allowed to go somewhere else. As he lived in a strict environnement, he wasn't happy as a kid and wanted to escape from that life. Meeting Edgar gave him true happiness. He was his first real best friend and he eventually lost him in the flames of his village. Imagine the thing or person who made you discover true happiness burning in front of your own very eyes. You will most likely lose hope in making other close relationship with anything or anyone. That's how Shu is. A depressed, borderline suicidal man who doesn't have any hope anymore and thinks that it is all his fault. Refusing anyone close to him and empty on a daily basis, he uses music as a way to cope with everything. If you think that Shu is easier to love because "he is less harsh than the other brothers" then you are wrong. Shu doesn't want to be involved with anything or anyone. If you try to get close to him, then get ready to be hurt because he is a sadist like his brothers and can hurt you if he doesn't want you near him.

-Reiji Sakamaki:

(If you want a more detailed and a well done analysis, please go check this one:

Reiji was severely neglected as a child by both of his parents. He basically spent his entire childhood trying to get their attention or at least some recognition from them, especially his mom’s, but never got any or if he did it was to remind him that he should be a good younger/brother/servant/right-hand man for his older brother, the next heir of the Sakamaki family Shu. Thus, as he grew up he developed a strong feeling of jealousy for his brother to the point of having a severe inferiority complex. In addition to that, the bitterness that he has for ages inside of him about his mother still resides in him and as we know he is still trying to revive her. Reiji is a man who holds grudges from his past and seeks revenge. He is also someone who loves attention (maybe not as much as Kanato) and wants to be recognized as superior to his brother whom he despises so much to the point that you cannot even talk about Shu around him without having either a death glare or a ass whooping. By putting high standards on to himself, not only in the present but also in his past, he’s become a perfectionist who cares a lot about image and manners. He even forces Yui in his route to learn the perfect lady etiquette. Why does he act this way? Simple, in my opinion it is because he likes to keep a perfect image of himself in a way to detach himself from his brothers whom he despises a lot. You might also ask: if he hates his brothers, then why didn’t he kill them yet? Well, Reiji in one interview (https://prevolt.tumblr.com/post/103068375676/diabolik-lovers-dark-fate-stellaworth-complete )admits that he doesn’t completely hate living with his bros, also if he would’ve killed them, his father would’ve punished him. Even if he seems not that bad with his gentleman personality, Reiji isn’t a kind man. Reiji can easily kill someone. To end this, to go back to the butler-like image he gives himself, I think it could be a mask to hide the insecurities he has. I also believe that he constantly lies to himself and that he doesn’t truly understand his own emotions or even himself has seen many times in his HDB route and in the manga.

-Ayato Sakamaki:

(For Ayato I fell upon this really interesting analysis if you are interested ) 

Ayato, in his childhood, like all of his brothers, was not treated well by his father but he , most importantly, got overpressured by Cordelia to be number one. He couldn’t get out and play freely like any normal child can do because when he would sneak out, he got punished and got slapped in the face by his own mother telling him that if he cannot be number one, he is not allowed to call her “mother” again.(Also, do I need to remind you all the lake scene from his childhood… )For him, you cannot be loved and/or appreciated if you’re not number one. Because he had to live such a childhood, he developed a severe narcissistic personality. Narcissists are not born, they are made, and they are made by being over praised as a kid for their success (such as having a good grade at school, winning a competition or an award, being the best in what they are doing) and by being emotionally neglected. (Ex: throughout the day the child is getting good compliments from their parents by being the number one at school but when the kid will start crying, the parents will ignore or punish him for it. Not giving him any love or support. Which will lead the kid to build himself an ego higher than Yūma’s height and rejecting his own emotions.) I think it describes Ayato’s behaviour and his past pretty well. Another thing that is important to consider about Ayato is that he looks as if he is frozen in time. (Which is a trait that can also be found in any real life narcissists) Even if his mother is dead and that he has nothing to prove anymore, he is still stuck in the “I need to be number one” as if his brain didn’t move on to the present. In addition to that, Ayato is a really childish man. I mean: he needs Yui’s attention and approval all the time, pouts like a kid, acts like a kid (when he asked Yui to stroke his hair in a childish way, plays pranks on Reiji, …) and sometimes speaks like a kid when things are not going the way he wants them to go. Also, once states that he doesn’t wish to have someone special in his life again because the last one who was special (his mom) broke his heart. Ayato himself and himself only and the only goal in his life is to prove that he is the best. To do that, he will use ANY sadistic method and won’t stop even if you beg. Heck, it’ll only excite him more. He is a narcissistic sadist who keeps his emotions far away from him.

-Kanato Sakamaki:

(For this character I highly suggest that you take a good look a this psychological analysis since in my opinion really detailed and the author made a really good job making it: . Thank you~)

Just like his brother Laito, Kanato throughout his childhood was severely neglected and treated very harshly by both of his parents. The only thing that was valuable to his mother’s eyes was his beautiful voice and literally made him sing until his vocal cords bled. I suspect that Kanato probably suffers from Asperger syndrome from how he acts when he is mad, the fact that he doesn’t understand his or the emotions of others and his overall behaviour. In the present we can all see that he is almost, if not, the scariest of all sakamaki brothers and I think that it is mainly due to the lack of attention and support from his parents. Of all the Sakamaki’s, Kanato is the one who, from very early in his childhood, needed attention and support the most. Why do you think he always has a teddy in his arms (with his mother’s ashes in it must I remind you..)and makes his own doll made out of the body of dead women? Kanato simply cannot stand being alone. He would rather have you dead by his side for all eternity than being rejected or even worse, ignored.(I really recommend to read Kanato’s analysis since it really explains well his behaviour on that aspect^^)

He is maybe cute, remember that he is unable to understand your emotions and that he has no problem killing you. Also to be able to survive with him, you will have to abandon your logic and read in between the lines which isn’t an easy task..(This one is shorter because I think that Kanato isn’t that complex. He is just really different but still stays, in my opinion, pretty simple and easy to understand)

-Laito Sakamaki:

Laito is what I would call an empty pervert who uses sex as a coping mechanism. He believes that there’s nothing more real than pleasure. He even goes further in his “crazy” beliefs that “even the sweetest pain can become the greatest pleasure”. Behind his playful, sociable, perverted personality is a really cruel, cunning and manipulator expert who knows the best tricks to manipulate someone since his mother uses those on him in his “young adulthood” to have sexual intercourses with him. Only used as a sex partner by his mom as a child and never received any unconditional love from his parents, he has a bad definition of love. For him love=lust, real love (true love or even unconditional love) doesn’t exist and that it is all fake. He spends his time having sex to forget about the women that broke him and would even go as far as threatening Yui to death if she resist him when she doesn’t want to get involve in his “activities” or “little games”. But even after all that he can’t forget her and still is captive of her “love”, still feeling her, remembering her scent and everything about her. He can’t escape from that jail. Finally, it’s important to remember that Laito is a sadist who takes an amount of pleasure by having someone succumbing to him in a mental and sexual way. He is not someone to be taken lightly. You might not see the danger totally at first by that’s just how Laito is. He even says it himself in his HDB route, he is the type of man who will follow his prey in an alley before attacking it. Therefore, he is not like most of his brothers, he is not going to attack fully. He’s slowly going to take little bites of you and before you even realize it, you won’t be able to escape from him anymore.

-Subaru Sakamaki:

First of all, we need to know that Subaru was born (just like almost all of his brothers) just for the sake of Karl’s plan. What is different about Subaru is that his mother became crazy when she had her child. (I just want to state that she did want the child and Karlheinz did not totally raped her since it is stated that she accepted but we also all know that she was being manipulated. Since for the moment I want to concentrate more on Subaru I will not spend too much time explaining his parents relationship but it is something that we should definitely analyse as well in my opinion) Subaru was severely neglected by his father and he never knew what it was to have a normal mother. Throughout his entire childhood, he’s witnessed his mother’s unstable mind, bipolarity, her tantrums episodes and even worse, not only her insults being thrown directly at him but her literally asking him to kill both her and Karl. Because of that, he’s developed anger issues, a lack of trust with women, a severe depression and he is, if not, borderline suicidal. I also want to state that (He even states in his route in HDB that the two people he hates the most in “this world” is 1) Karlheinz 2)himself)Subaru is one if not the most sensible emotionally. So that means he feels harder than the others. You can also see that he has developed similar traits has his mother has you get to know him more in his route such as: bipolarity (when he orders Yui to always come and tell him where she’s going and then get mad when she does so telling her that he doesn’t care) and random tantrums. (when he gets mad à Yui for no good reason and even makes false assumptions) Not only does he usuels violence as a coping mechanism but he also always isolates himself, not letting anyone in his hard shell because he believes that he can’t do any good and that he is useless. In his presents, he still believes in his mother’s insults and thinks of him as someone filthy, disgusting, weak, a monster who can’t do anything to help the person he loved, his mother. He hates himself. He is constantly irritated by everything. If you want to love him you will have to endure the violence that he’s going to give to you and live with his confusion and irritation against not only everything that surrounds him but also against himself and you, and you will have to give up your life to make him trust you entirely.

[fericita-s]

Beginning After The End (Part 2)

Part 1

Thank you @the-spaztic-fantastic​ for being the best encourager on this - from brainstorming to editing to some specific ideas in this chapter that I don’t want to spoil but that include drugs and nightmares and Hubert comforting Thea. Oh no! I’ve said too much!

Sasha chatted on the walk to the stones, telling Hubert about her aspirations of studying music at a conservatory somewhere in Europe and Thea could already feel a headache taking residence at the spot where her backbone met her neck. Sasha was a talented violinist, and she loved that her daughter wanted to study music, but the idea of anyone else sailing away from her was like getting kicked in the stomach.  

“My grandparents in Denmark said I’m welcome there anytime and they would arrange for private tutors. And Aunt Linnea in London has said the same. Perhaps mother will let me go this year.”

Hubert looked over Sasha’s head at Thea and raised his eyebrow in question.  Thea shook her head and felt the panic rise in her chest at the thought of her daughter leaving on a ship.

“I hope you’ll play for me while I’m here. Letters can’t convey the beauty of music, though your mother and your father both tried when writing of your talent,” Hubert said.  Thea was grateful for this change in topic even as the panic continued to vibrate through her.

Is that why Agnarr and Iduna were always so different? Why they closed the gates and kept their daughters hidden? They knew the cost life demanded. The scars it left on the living.

They stopped walking when they reached the stones, dark and bleak against the sky in the bright sun of the morning.  Thea saw Maddie and Ingrid holding hands at the stone bearing Iduna’s name and Henrik, Sigrid, Greet, and Oaken standing by Agnarr’s in a tight circle. Everyone with their partner, looking at death and huddling together, warding it away from their own homes.  Thea hugged her arms around herself as she neared them, feeling the loss of Elias’s guiding hand on her waist keenly.

The men shook hands and the ladies hugged and then they all stood silently for a while, staring at the stones.  No one seemed to know what to do or what to say, and Thea thought Agnarr or Elias would have known how to say the right words, to lead the right ceremony, to soothe and comfort and offer hope.

After a while, Henrik cleared his throat.  “Hudson’s? My treat.”

The group walked slowly back down toward the town proper and there was no chatter this time.  They made a somber procession.  The Market Square was still draped in black banners and the flag of Arendelle lay limply on the pole at half mast.  Thea felt a satisfaction in that, the entire kingdom mourning like she had been mourning since the king and queen came to her home in the fall of the previous year.  Both had looked so stricken that Thea knew what they would say even before they sat down with her in her own sitting room to tell her about the wreck of a ship that had been found, the pieces splintered and shattered among a skerry far to the north.

Iduna had hugged her and Agnarr had stuttered on words of promise about giving Elias the honor he deserved and setting up their children with a life-long pension.  Thea had only said “But he always comes back,” and hadn’t cried until they’d left, her hands on her middle where a new baby was growing.

Halima greeted them and brought drinks around even though it was still mid-morning. She put a hand on Henrik’s shoulder as she set a pitcher in front of him and he put his hand to hers and squeezed.  

“Thank you, Halima.  Join us?”

Halima shook her head. “No, they’re best remembered by their closest friends. Let me know if you need anything.” She walked to the front door and bolted it from the inside, then excused herself to the back rooms. 

Thea watched as she walked away, a sadness to the slump of her shoulders that had been there for many years. Once, Halima had spoken to her of a young man who had been lost in the Northern Expedition, who she hoped had somehow been able to survive within the thick mist that shut out the Northern lands. Looking at her, Thea wondered if that was a worse fate than knowing your loved one was dead - to have a small flame of hope burning up any ability to move on or find new love. She reached for Sasha’s hand and held it tightly. 

Henrik sighed. “Agnarr has the place cleared out for us one last time.”

Thea watched as Maddie brushed tears from her eyes and Ingrid put an arm around her.

“To King Agnarr and Queen Iduna,” Henrik said, raising his glass and standing up.  The others got to their feet and raised theirs as well.  

Their voices joined together in a “Skal” that was probably the least celebratory Thea had ever heard, but it seemed to cheer Henrik a bit.

“Do you remember my last night here before going to Oxford? When we had to rearrange the seating and keep refilling Agnarr’s glass in the hope that he would finally tell Iduna he loved her?” Henrik took a sip of his drink and then wrapped his hands around it, squeezing tightly.  Sigrid leaned into him and put her head on his shoulder. 

“I was not here for that, but I can see why it would have been necessary,” Hubert said, a fond smile coming to his lips.

“Oh, it was very necessary,” said Greet. “That man loved her so much, but could not figure out how to do anything about it!” 

“That’s not entirely fair.  All those elaborate gifts? He tried.  Iduna didn’t or couldn’t understand,” said Maddie, and then whispered something in Ingrid’s ear that Thea didn’t hear.  

“That was the first night I met some of you,” Thea said as she put her glass on the table.  “I remember seeing the king run his hand along Iduna’s back and hoping that he wasn’t ruining her reputation forever.”

Greet laughed.  “I tried to get her to do far more to him that would ruin her reputation.”

Thea shot a glance at Sasha, who looked slightly embarrassed to be hearing this about the king and queen. She put her hand back in Sasha’s as she spoke.  “I didn’t understand Arendelle then.  Or how they were together. But later I did. When we’d paint together and talk, or watch Elias and the king together doing their wrestling or swimming.”

Thea had surprised herself by saying Elias’s name out loud and hated that the conversation, which had just been turning to happier memories, was newly awash in grief at the mention of her husband.

“Where are your children, Henrik?” Greet asked, after the silence had stretched out unbearably long.

“Home in London. The boys are nearly old enough to oversee the business now,” he answered.  “A little younger than you, Sasha.”

Oaken took an impossibly long drink from his glass and then wiped his hand across his mouth. “The business, it is good, ja?”

Henrik shrugged, but Sigrid nodded and added “Yes, very.  Ice exports are very much in demand.”

“Interesting,” said Hubert. “We should discuss it sometime.  I’m transitioning away from ambassador duties to the more sedentary life of growing the national rail system.  Which includes as a priority ice cars for transporting perishable goods.”

Henrik tipped his glass towards Hubert. “Certainly.  Perhaps another weekend in Paris?”

Hubert visibly paled and coughed before reaching for his glass. 

“No? Are you settled down then? Abandoning world travel for the delights and comforts of home?” Sigrid elbowed Henrik and Thea thought this was the best tribute to Agnarr and Iduna, for friends to be sharing stories and talking, instead of standing silently, paralyzed with grief. 

“No, I’m not so lucky as you. My sister Sara keeps hoping I’ll put an end to my days of being a bachelor.  And I should tell you, I had to avoid the attentions of a woman whom I think you are all very familiar with.  Unpleasantly so.”

“Who?” Greet asked, leaning forward. “A woman from Arendelle?”

“No, but one who made quite the impression on Arendelle during a certain birthday ball and garden party.”

“Lady Alexsandra?” Greet asked, and it was nearly a shriek.

“Worse,” said Hubert.  “She tried to arrange a match between myself and her daughter, newly eighteen.”

Sasha pulled away from Thea at that, straightening up. “Ugh! Eighteen! You’re past forty!”

“That's what I said, though far more diplomatically,” laughed Hubert.  “I can assure you neither Alexsandra nor her daughter are any more pleasant about being told ‘no’ than you would expect.”

“Did that work? Being nice?” Henrik asked, laughing.

“No.  It was more satisfying to be rude anyway,” Hubert said, laughing along with Henrik.

“And did that work?” Sasha asked, eyes wide in horror at this story of a girl her own age being offered in marriage to a man her father’s age.

‘No,” Hubert said, still laughing. “So I suddenly stopped being able to speak German.  Then French.  Then English.  They only stopped their pursuit when stymied by my Flemish.”

“She was the worst, I can well believe she’d try to arrange a match with little input from the groom,” said Greet.  “Thank goodness Iduna was our queen instead of her.”

“Quite the legacy she left, where we all shudder at her name,” said Hubert. “And you have her to thank that no one knows your full name, Sasha.”

Sasha sat up straight in her chair, aghast. “What?”

“We named you Aleksandra for my grandmother, but she was called Sasha.  And Elias and I vowed we’d never tell the king and queen your real name.” Thea said, raising her eyebrow at Hubert who shook his head and shrugged.

“But - but they’re my godparents!” Sasha spluttered, unbelieving.  “How did they not know my name?”

The rest of the friends laughed and Thea squeezed Sasha’s hand while Hubert looked at them both with an apologetic smile.

***

“Their twins are about Vadik's age.  They moved out of the town when they were born and further up in the mountains,” Thea explained later when Hubert asked about Maddie and Ingrid’s family.  Maddie had been even more reserved that usual and hardly spoken at all in the time the friends spent together. 

“Two at once? What a blessing.”

But Thea cringed, his words calling to her mind the double tragedy they had been observing that day. Two gone at once, beneath the waves, to be splintered and crushed in all the ways she had imagined Elias had spent his last moments. Maybe two at once was a blessing.

 But mostly it was nice having Hubert there, and so little had been nice lately.  When she hadn’t been tending to her own grief, wild and unruly like the cloudberries on a skerry, she had to tend to her children’s needs and to the elder Mr. and Mrs. Calder’s before their deaths.  Two at once.  A blessing.

Hubert led her and the children on walks to the waterfall and to the top of the clock tower.  He asked to be shown the aquaculture projects he had been instrumental in setting up a decade ago, and then withdrew his request without protest when Thea said “We won’t be sailing.”  

And then, a month into his stay with them, when she was starting to wonder if this was a permanent arrangement and realizing she didn’t mind if it was, Hubert proposed.

***

Hubert arranged everything.  He suggested they get married in Antwerp so Sara could be present and assured Thea that the ship would deliver them all safely.  As Thea packed trunks and asked servants if they preferred to travel with them or stay behind to keep the family home in good order, she tried to avoid thinking of being on a ship.  But it came unbidden: the water roiling below and the winds whipping the sails, cracks of wood splitting apart and masts torn in two.

The night before they left, she lay in her bed, sleepless and thinking of the first time Elias had taken her sailing.  They were officially courting by then and she no longer tried to disguise her appreciative looks at his form as he manned the sails on their small craft. When the wind blew sprays of water onto them, he had shaken his head  and whooped.  “Is there any better feeling than this?” He had shouted, and even though he was so close she could reach out and touch him, his voice barely carried over the wind.  

When they tied up the boat and walked along a skerry, she ran her hands under his loose shirt and he took it off in a swift motion.  “Better for sailing anyway,” he said, and winked at her. He dipped his head low to kiss her and his lips tasted salty with the sea. 

Her hands trembled to touch the bare skin of his back and at her light touch, he gasped.  “I was wrong, this is the best feeling,” he said and Thea agreed, telling him so with her hands splayed out and pressed more firmly into his back and then daringly dipping further down to feel the curve of him rather than only the hard planes of his back.

***

She woke without realizing she had slept, and already felt sick with nerves at the thought of her whole family on a ship together.  Sasha boarded first, running up the gangplank with Vadik close behind.  They had missed this, she knew.  They loved sailing with their father and had been excited at this change they were making as a family.  Thea held little Elias but Hubert took him from her so she could walk unencumbered across the gangplank, and then the nursemaid took the baby from him.  Thea gripped the railing and stared at their home on the waterfront until it was a speck in the distance.

What was hard during the day was unbearable at night.  Sasha and Vadik loved sleeping in the hammocks on board, and though Hubert had given her the largest quarters, all Thea could do was pace and pace.  The baby had never slept so soundly, lulled by the rocking, and she knew she didn’t need to be holding him for his sake.  But she clung to him, reminding herself why she couldn’t fly apart into a thousand pieces, like Elias’s ship had, flung across miles of shoreline and skerries. 

A light rap on the door drew her out of her macabre thoughts and she crossed the room to open it.  Hubert was there, holding some wine.  

“I thought you might like a drink?” He drew out another bottle, this one small.  It looked medicinal, though Thea couldn’t read the label. “Or perhaps something stronger? This would let you sleep.  I can be sure the children are cared for.”

Thea allowed him to take the baby to the nursemaid and by the time he returned she was sitting on the edge of the narrow bed, clutching herself tightly and rocking in motion with the ship.  He sat down next to her, leaving space between them. 

“I know this is hard. I wish there was another way to get where we’re going.”  He placed both bottles on their sides on the bed and she wished he would just make her drink something.  Deciding was too much right now. 

“I think I might go mad.  All I can think about is all of us sinking to the bottom of the ocean.”

“And you don’t want that?”

Thea looked up sharply, surprised.  “Of course not.”

Hubert shrugged.  “Sometimes people want to die after their loved one does.  I know Sara had that despair for some time. She was widowed after only two years of marriage to her love.”

“No,” Thea said.  “I want to live,” and she was somewhat surprised to find it true.  

The ship pitched forward suddenly and she began to tumble off of the bed, but Hubert’s arms caught her around the waist and then pulled her back onto the bed, against himself.  

“Easy, easy,” he muttered, in the same way Thea might have calmed a horse or a colicky baby.  He took one hand off of her to reach for the smaller bottle.  

“Drink this.  I’ll stay with you and make sure all is well.  The nursemaid has the children.”

Thea opened her mouth as he poured the contents of the bottle in her mouth and she swallowed, tears coming to her eyes as another swell pitched the ship forward and the sound of creaking boards brought goosebumps to her flesh.

“It’s too hard, it’s too hard,” she muttered and Hubert held her tightly, telling her of his parents and how they had sailed from Prussia to Antwerp following a fast courtship and then lived happily for years in the home they were sailing to now.  She fell asleep with his mouth inches from her ear, his arms around her waist.

***

Thea woke and saw Elias sitting across from her, in the chair she knew was left behind in their family home in Arendelle.  He was smoking a pipe but the air smelled like saltwater.  The smoke from his pipe was turning into crocuses that lost their petals as they slammed to the floor and shattered.

She tried to sit up but her head weighed too much and she could do no more than roll to her side.  Elias took the pipe out of his mouth and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees.  “I know you miss me, but you can’t come here.” 

He stood up and walked towards her, each step sounding like cannon fire.  He put his hand on her cheek but she couldn’t feel it and she moaned and closed her eyes.

When she opened them again, Elias was standing in front of her, frantic.  

“You shouldn’t be here! It’s too dangerous!” Rain was pelting him and his coat was torn at the shoulder. “The ship is falling apart!” 

Again, she tried to sit up but this time her legs wouldn’t move and when she looked down at them and then back up, Elias was gone. 

“Elias? Where did you go?”

Hubert answered.  “He had to go, but I’m here.  I’m here.”

Thea closed her eyes again. “Will he come back if I close my eyes?”

She felt Hubert’s hand on her cheek and it made her cry.  If Elias had been real, she would have felt him.  Wouldn’t she?

“He can’t come back.  But he loved you very much, and he loves you still.”

***

A letter wouldn't have arrived faster than their passage, so when the family arrived in Antwerp, Hubert’s sister Sara met them at the pier, surprised and happy.

“Hubert, are those your children?” she asked, incredulous.

“They will be,” he answered, and Thea knew she had done the right thing. 

***

She had felt shattered at Elias’s death and, now in a home that didn’t overpower her with memories, she was aligning the fragments of those memories so they didn’t pierce her in a way that cut off her breath. She hoped she would figure out how to fully come back to herself before Hubert tired of this half-life woman he had married, before the children tired of her melancholy and moods. Before she lost herself totally and led a life that was worse than death.  But she wanted to live.  She just had to figure out how.

[twisted-nox-sidus]

(I'm bad with clear skies. I want to hide my ugliness from the light. But things lurk in the shadows cast by that light... And I'm a little interested in finding out more about them.) - Strix, narrating.

Based off nighttime and an owl, so she's not necessarily "twisted" from anything/anyone. She's actually designed around an otome MC struggling with the concept of love (because why not).

(Note: This post is super long since I put a lot of depth into this OC. There’s a lot of angst surrounding her than what’s given at face value. I even left out some details that are considered a surprise that reveals more about Strix. Some bits of her profile are rather messy and all over the place. I hope you guys love her as much as I do!)

Name: Strix Noctowl

Real Name: Secret

Nickname(s): Transfer Student, Problem Child, Newbie, etc.

Age: 16

DOB: 3/3 (Pisces)

Gender: Female

Height: 5'4.5" (164 cm)

Likes: Fluffy things, birds (particularly owls), music boxes

Dislikes: Gossip, thunder, her eyes

Hobbies: Reading, singing, piano playing

Race: Human

Affiliation: Night Raven College

Year: First

Relative(s): Unnamed mother (deceased), unnamed father (defected), unnamed grandparents, Sidney (great-grandfather)

Dorm: Unallied

Personality

A down-to-earth but curious young lady who never runs short of her sharp-tongue. She goes by Strix Noctowl in order to separately identify herself as the girl known specifically in Twisted Wonderland. Strix tends to be pessimistic and talk about pop cultural references no one in Twisted Wonderland would understand but nonetheless is determined to return home. She is more of a nocturnal person.

She is known to be “disobedient” and rebellious by the NRC. Many students admire her for her fearless, outspoken character but also keep at a distance to avoid getting roped in potential punishments with her.

Strix is not a virtuous person and can play petty if the situation compels her. She can be violent and won't hesitate to resort to a little punch to get her point across. Questions how most of the cast don't know the meaning "no" on a daily basis.

Underneath her shell, Strix is a touch-starved, naive, and utterly vulnerable girl. The absence of her parents led her to believe she is not loved and relies on her dear grandfather for almost anything she has trouble with. She is also shy about asking to fulfill her selfish desires and sometimes hides it too well that it becomes painfully evident to others.

Strix has a child-like impulse to touch things that pique her curiosity, such as trying to touch Leona's ears or Malleus' horns. The Savanaclaw dormitory is a prime victim of her "harassments".

Strix has a bad habit of falling asleep on a constant basis to the point she can sleep with her eyes open and stay still from what she was doing (ig. holding a stack of papers). This also happens arbitrarily at random places and time, such as sleeping mid-conversation. It's an impressive feat, as remarked by many of the guys. The habit was stemmed from the inner part of Strix that likes to dream (despite being a realist) and being a sound sleeper. She says this is the only time she can truly escape the cruel reality. It's a technique Strix may or may not be proud of.

About

Strix is a rare case at Night Raven College. Initially it appeared she had no powers whatsoever and was not remarkable in magic classes. Pretty disastrous, actually. She received a lot of hostility from the students who believe she doesn't deserve to be a worthy student at the prestigious magic academy, the very field she sucks at. Soon, Strix awakens her powers (explained in Abilities section) and works to control it while attending the college.

Due to Strix's insistence, she identifies herself as an "unallied" student and is taking residence at the run-down dormitory. She had complained a lot about each and every dorm and considers the NRC dorm a better place to reside in. She didn't really mind being the sole student in the rundown dorm since she was accustomed to solitude. She won't spend much time other than sleeping there anyways.

In order to repay Crowley's generosity and protection, she volunteered to work as his aid, such as helping clean up and sorting the books and documents piling up his workload. In addition, Strix works part-time across each of the seven dorms to earn herself money instead of relying on Crowley all the time. This also helps keep her busy and familiarize herself with the dorms and its students (since she has to cooperate with the uncooperative chaotic student body). (FYI, her payment is based on her performance which will be reported by the dorm leaders to determine the wage.)

Abilities

Strix has the ability to summon colorful, quirky, and adorable Dream Eater Spirits (please think of the Kingdom Hearts series because that's exactly what they will look like. I’m not capable of creating them myself so please use them as reference) that obey her heed. She surprisingly has good control of her magic (probably because she’s a dreamer and is adept with her dream magic as a result) and works on honing her abilities so she doesn't subconsciously summon the fun yet pesky creatures and start a zoo attraction. If a colorful creature is running rampant on campus, you know who is responsible for it. A common Dream Eater Spirit she summons is a curious owl dubbed Peepsta Hoo (shown below).

History

Strix was raised by her great grandfather Sidney since she was a child, whom she trusts and loves the most in her family. Sidney is a half-blind antique shop owner; a man who was born on the very day and year Disney was founded (10/16/1923). He practically grew up with Disney and shares his love with his descendants including Strix, who also adores the magic of Disney as a result. He is at least 96 years old, yet still somehow has spunk to him.

Strix's mother died from childbirth. Her father couldn't handle the sight of Strix who was slowly looking more like his dead wife every day and abandoned her to start a new life with another woman, essentially cutting ties with Strix when she was only five years old. In an outburst he said he hated Strix's eyes that were said to be devoid of light and emotion ever since she was an infant before leaving the house with luggage in hand. Strix dislikes her birthday since that marked the day her mother died and never encourages her own birthday parties or gifts.

Strix grew up resenting her eyes that were seen as a curse. Her grandparents even agreed with her former father that her mother gave birth to a "heartless, cursed monster". It was said that for the first five years Strix was born into the world, she barely expressed emotion outside of a blank slate, though Strix herself claims to not remember that. Her grandparents on her mother's side still resented her for her mother's death while the grandparents on her father's side don't want to have anything to do with her. Only Sidney was willing to raise her.

Strix is touch-starved due to the absence of her parents. As a child she had wished for them to pat her head, hug her, and hold their hands; the simple intimate things expected for family to do. She never knew her mother, and her father was aloof towards her and even treated her like the Plague by avoiding contact with her. What she had wished was for their affection, or rather the affection of a mother and/or father (which will be fulfilled by everyone’s bird dad Crowley in the future).

The only one who could meet her demands was Sidney who happily gives her attention and affection. He was the only one she could confide to and seek help.

Strix grew up believing she only needed to depend on the love of her great grandfather. She was extremely timid and nervous as a child who didn't understand how to befriend kids her age and harbored jealousy towards them who lived with happy families. This jealousy is what primarily made her keep a distance from them. As a result, she didn't make any friends, and never had up to when she was warped to Twisted Wonderland.

Strix once had a crush on a boy (dubbed "Caelum" for narrative purposes) who smiled brightly like the sun and filled her with warm giddiness. However, that was when she was six years old and the boy in high school, practically a decade year gap between them. It was more of adoration than romantic attraction, but she never met anyone else who was as nice and warm as him other than Sidney.

Caelum was her neighbor who babysat her whenever Sidney had to run errands. He played with her and spoiled her with her needs; they were like brother and sister. It was until he had graduated and moved away to dorm in a faraway college that they never saw each other again until seven years when a letter of invitation was sent for his wedding.

Strix's emotions conflicted over how she should express her romantic feelings among the platonic ones up to the day of his wedding. She froze up and fled out of fear before she could answer him. The moon was blue yet cold that night, and she discovered something like a mirror in the garden pond. She was suddenly shoved from behind and fell into the mirror. This leads to the current situation and the start of a twisted fairytale where happy endings are not as they seem.

Trivia

- Strix is a name used in various mythologies to refer to creatures who bring forth misfortune. They usually appear in the form of birds, mainly owls. "Strix" is also a genus of owls in the typical owl family (Strigidae).

- Noct in Noctowl means "night". Yes the owl is snuck in there, go figure.

- Strix's birthday falls on "I Want You to Be Happy", also known as Girl's Day.

- Strix once took care of a baby snowy owl as a child but had to say her farewell when it was released into the wild. Ever since, she likes to learn more about the beautiful feathered creatures.

- Strix's preferred type of person is someone who would wholeheartedly accept her touch-starved needs. Of course, she would do the same vice versa.

- Strix's most treasured item is the wristwatch that also plays like a music box. She never goes out without it. She also carries a gold heart lock (the one seen in her default outfit) on her out of impulse and never bothered to understand why. She says she feels safe bringing it with her.

- Strix has 2.0 eyesight. She can pinpoint a person from far away and recognize them.

- If you rub Strix's head in a particular way by running your fingers from behind her ears and massaging her scalp, she'll fall asleep. Apparently it calms her nerves and loosens the tension built up. She melts like goo on the spot and subconsciously clings to the person, purring in contentment like a completely different person (like an affectionate house cat). It's effective for silencing her, having her sleep, or just fluster her altogether. The first in the NRC to discover this embarrassing weak spot was...? That's a story for another time, though.

- Strix learned to play the piano for ten years since she was six years old, the same time when she first met Caelum. Caelum was the one who got her into the piano after expressing his love for the instrument and classical music. Initially Strix played to earn recognition from him, but over time, especially after he left, she grew fond of the piano (also because the sound works similarly to a music box) and honed her expertise in the field. She won piano competitions up to now and has a goal of becoming a pianist in her career. Her piano skills are highly praised by her peers and sought after by Azul, but even then she feels insecure. Ever since the wedding, her hands freeze up and hover over the keys as she automatically recalls the daunting memory of Caelum and her bittersweet emotions. The crowd's peer pressure wasn't helping either. (And yes, she can play the piano while asleep. What a pro.)

- Strix's love for Disney makes her prone to humming and singing to songs including but not limited to Disney as she works (of course when she knows she's alone). Sometimes she can get carried away with her singing and wind up lost in her own world as she does and would take a while to notice another presence in the room. When she gets caught, she dies on the inside and gets extremely embarrassed to the point of acting tough with a tomato red face. Apparently she is terrible at being self-aware of her surroundings when she gets into it. Then again, this is the same girl who falls asleep in the middle of corridors without realizing she was asleep.

- On that note, her singing voice is actually really nice, almost trained like a pro. Azul officially never lets her out of his sights now that she has full potential to be a full-time staff at Mostro Lounge. Her singing and piano skills are much needed at Mostro Lounge, however Strix would only willingly do the latter. She would die before singing in public. That's a big no no.

- Strix is said to have back (and neck) problems. Probably from the arbitrary times she sleeps in uncomfortable positions, or simply the stress from Night Raven College and the students' antics overall. Someone once touched her shoulder and mistook her for a statue. It's surprising how her appearance hides the stress and drowsiness well. She looks nothing like your average sluggish person.

- Strix likes antagonistic characters in storytelling. She tends to like the villains more than the main characters because she admires the good, the bad, and the ugly of their characters unbound by the laws that prevent them from their free spirits. They're flawed, but she finds relief in knowing they are not completely black like many would depict.

- Strix had a fear of brooms as a child after she watched Fantasia. She grew out of it soon, but even to this day she still looks back on the rather horrific scene with a pale face while holding the broom during flight class, much to Ashton’s confusion.

[amisssunbeam]

When (and Why) Hickey Fell in Love with Gibson

Well, it all started when “Hickey” was a child named EC, possibly Edgar or Edward, probably Edward, and the last name was something common, Clark or Carter or Cooke perhaps, as they are amongst the most familiar surnames in Great Britain today.  (I myself like Cooke as his last name.  See below.)

BTW, there was a time when I was in love with Herman Melville and tried to be very good so I could go to Heaven and escort Herman to all the constant Elvis concerts being held in the serene ethereal.  (This was about the same time I mentioned “Elvis Presley” to my husband who thought I said “Melville’s Presley”, which in turn started that heavenly dream I still live in. Elvis IS Billy Budd.)  Oh, what is my point?  Melville was born in 1819, and so I have decided EC was born in 1820, making him the perfect age to set sail on “Terror” in 1845 (and helps me dope out a time-line for EC’s life).

Was EC abandoned by his mother to a foundling’s home?  I’ve no doubt; I think he lived with her long enough to bond (she a hoe; father unknown), and then she left without a word when he was three and a half years old.   And did the drunk old men and women who ran the home try to give EC any solace?  Of course not.  Plus, meals were served on a very erratic basis, which is why Edward and his analogue David Young never got very big.  But EC thought of his mother often, sometimes with an enormous anger which caused him to befoul his bedding, sometimes with a longing that causes him to dissociate completely.

Now the drunk old men and women who run the home would prefer that little Eddy not be so needy, but they have a solution.  They know a rich man called (let’s say) Captain Autolycus Wilson, who likes very young boys. (Such a cliché.)  The drunk old etcs. ask Captain Wilson if he would like to purchase, uh, sponsor very small Eddy with his big blue eyes and reddish blond hair for a handsome fee. Captain Wilson is without a ward at the time, so he agrees to take care of Eddy, whom he calls Cookie.    The expected things proceed.  Except: Wilson is fond of Cookie, finding him clever and amusing and witty, and Cookie becomes very fond of Captain Wilson, fond to the point of adoration.  The Captain sees to his education with private tutors (the less said about what went on with the tutoring the better: too depressing for words).  But, despite the buggery and sodomy and orgies (many of which take place at the Captain’s private men’s club, The Sons of Phorcys, before interested audiences), Cookie becomes well educated, and something of a dandy too.  These are the gifts Captain Wilson gives him in exchange for his complete oppression and dehumanization.

Okay, we knew it was coming. Cookie begins to show signs of manliness, which means he no longer interests Captain Wheeler.  Captain Wheeler goes back to the foundling’s home and “adopts” a likely little carrot top who is nameless to us.  But, before he kicks Cookie out, Captain Wilson offers him a drink from one of his cut glass, uh, glasses.  Cookie goes completely catatonic.  

Afterwards, with a five-dollar gold piece and the clothes on his back, Cookie finds himself on the streets of Victorian London.

It gets worse and then it gets more worse.  He is Cookie no more.

So he runs with the dog pack.  He steals cheap jewelry and silverware. Steals nice clothes too, so he is always well turned out.  (Speaking of dogs, EC doesn’t like dogs.  Too many high-tone toffs, too many coppers have sicced huge slavering four-legged beasts on him.  Dogs, dogs are shit eaters.)

However, one useful trick he learns from the dog pack is to hang around taverns, especially those catering to sailors who have returned to shore.   He likes to chat with the sailors and hear their magical tales of life on the vast blue sea as he picks their pockets. These stories are why E.C. decides to dab Cornelius Hickey and put him in Regent’s Canal.  

“You’ll be gone how long, Cornelius?”

“At least a year!  And then I’ll be in Hawaii.  Oahu.”  His Irish accent is quite pronounced.

“Aren’t they cannibals who live there?”

“I think they prefer fish.” Both giggle.

“In other words, they’re Catholics!” EC says.

More giggles.   “See, here are my sailing papers!”

“Look, you already got paid!”

“Yes, a handsome sum. Speaking of which, let’s have another drink.”

“Just a small ale for me.”  EC takes a deep breath. “I bet your mam was glad to see your pay!”

“Me, I keep my money. I was a foundling, see.”  

“I lived in an orphan’s home too.”  (EC thinks to himself: I will always live in an orphan’s home.) “So when do you sail?”

 Then there’s a small slice of time and the ex-Cornelius Hickey lies bleeding at the bottom of Regents Canal.

(There’s a great fic which gives more details about this event on A3O: “Skinned Snakes” by @willowbilly)

 There’s not much variety on a ship; sailing and caulking is boring.  So no one should be surprised that the new Cornelius Hickey grouses.  

But one day, he shares a joke with Billy Gibson, and Billy laughs and says, “Now, that one’s worthy of Shakespeare.”

Hickey is pleased and intends to make Billy laugh again.

What was the joke? What is the joke in any office setting? Most office jokes are about those other people in The Office, who get to be more and more “other” as the jokes continue (think of Jim and Pam against Dwight), until Hickey and Billy have their own little two-man Eleusinian mystery cult going on.

They sit together at what serves as the library table and look at picture books together.  Perhaps it’s a book of engraved Biblical illustrations. Hickey points at one and whispers, “Look, Billy, there’s Lieutenant Irving walkin’ on water in his nightshirt!”

Billy gets a bad case of the giggles.  

Weekes is sitting nearby and hears them.  “What’s this, laughin’ at the Holy Scriptures?  Do you want the ship to sink?”  (Weekes is like the Dansker in “Billy Budd”, a quiet type who utters oracular remarks and tries to keep the superstitious young sailors under control.)

Hickey and Billy like to look at maps too, especially maps of the Pacific.  They move to a more secluded place to share their secret dreams. They decide they’ll jump ship in Oahu and live in the sun and sand forever.  

“Bugger the officers, Billy!” Hickey whispers.  “‘Orlop!’ I’ll feckin orlop ye, Irving!”

Hickey’s minor blasphemies appeal to Gibson, who must also feel underappreciated.  

(By the way, Melville was discharged in Maui in 1843 where he worked as, among other things, a pin-setter in a bowling alley before he returned to New York in 1844.)

But more than jokes happen. Billy sews a nice shirt for Hickey and knits him a warm red scarf.  “Look here,” Billy says to the other sailors sitting around.  “Now doesn’t Cornelius look smart!”  They all applaud, somewhat sarcastically, but Hickey is pleased.  

It appears that Hickey can sit in Billy’s little cabinette, I won’t say anytime he wants, but he CAN sit there.  Which is where the friendship goes to the next level.  Again, there isn’t a lot to do on an exploration.  I like to think of Hickey and Billy sitting right beside each other, CURTAIN OPEN, Hickey making his small jokes, perhaps about Mr. Diggle’s bad bread, and then he puts his hand on Billy’s knee.  When they hear someone coming, Hickey rapidly removes his hand.  With this negative evidence, Billy learns what Hickey meant by touching his knee.

The first kiss:  this is as tricky in fan fic as it is in real life. How do you know when to take that first step?  My experience has been that it is “The Man” who kisses first. (Don’t get mad!  Last century, when I was getting kissed, that rule of courtship was ratified in iron.)  

We can imagine that Hickey finds the simple warmth coming from Billy’s frame . . . nice.  Better still, he has no obligation to be (or do) anything to Billy.  He is free with Billy.  One night in May 1847 on Billy’s little cot, the bedtime bells ring (I don’t really know ships work), and Hickey says, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Billy,” and, because it’s been building inside him for several months, he leans over to the seated Billy and kisses his cheek.  Billy looks up in pleased surprise (giving Hickey the same look he gave him when Hickey put Young’s ring on his finger).  

I will now commence to use @starbuck’s excellent timeline to date the next steps of their relationship. “Go for Broke” is September 1846. Eight months later (plenty of time for a courtship) is “The Ladder” which I like to think of as the SEX-isode; by this time Billy and Hickey have become very experienced in their buggery.

So just let me make up some stuff.   In that sexy sexy month October 1846, they get to first base (they make out until their lips are chapped.)  Second base occurs in early November 1846 (running their hands over each other’s quivering but clothed skin).  Late November 1846 brings a firm third base (petting to orgasm: yup, that was a phrase much in use when Mamie Eisenhower and I were college roommates).  And on Christmas Day 1846, HOME RUN is achieved in costumes and crannies as drunken sailors overwhelm the air.  Hickey and Billy are in love!  They run up and down the deck with the snow falling on their pink boyish cheeks. Young, beautiful, in love, just the two in their icy mystery cult.

Uhoh, here comes June 1847 and “The Ladder”.   Now you know goddam well Irving isn’t going down to the orlop deck just to “find” the “caulker’s mate”.  He’s been smoldering over his suspicions for months (he and Hickey exchange stink-eyes all the time at Sunday services).  Finally, Irving gets a double-header: he achieves a major vicarious thrill AND a chance to save souls at the same time!!!!  Still, Hickey and Gibson are busted.

Stuff happens, Silna and Sir John and Tuunbaq, all that arga warga.   Not to mention, Gibson’s nervous conversation with Irving.  Which Hickey sees.  (Notice how I rigged the timeline to make sure Hickey got to see Gibson’s postern “all winter”, i.e. the winter of ’46-’47.)

Hickey is angry, but he never learned how to express anger towards someone he loves.  First he reverts to an infantile state; then it seems he finds a new love: The Captain.

The Captain offers him a drink.  A drink! Who would do that but a devious seducer! Hickey scours his brain.  What do you say to an Irishman?  “Here’s to us Micks!”  OH GOD OH GOD HOW COULD HE BE SO STUPID!  THAT HAS TO BE THE STUPIDEST THING ANYONE HAS EVER SAID TO ANYBODY!!!!! OH GOD! But Crozier’s face doesn’t freeze, doesn’t close down; it’s still open and pink.  EC will remember that.

Now, because I pledge allegiance to @rhavewellyarnbag and all that he stands for, I will also assert that Francis is a three-beer queer.  And if it weren’t for that Bible-beating bastard Irving barging in on them, who knows what would have happened next?

Hickey keeps trying to shine up to the Captain; he brings him a trophy, the guilty Eski girl.  But then there is that unfair cross-examination by Crozier and his big shiny toff buddy.  I have to say, I feel for Hickey in this scene.  He really thought he was being useful to Crozier, and Crozier is completely dismissive. How often have I misunderstood what other people wanted from me! They quarrel, Hickey loses his cool and ends up getting flogged.  Oh, sure, there’s worst things than bein’ lashed, but still . . .

Then there’s the tobacco. Just as you and I would, Hickey uses Occam’s useful razor and sees the tobacco as a love gift from . . . Billy. Billy! Billy the steward with access to supplies!  Billy must still love him!  

Sound the music cues, for here comes the bride!  In the next episode “First Shot a Winner”, Hickey marries Billy.  The reasons for this marriage are numerous (hey!  Just like real life!), but one reason is Billy’s ability to spy on those in command.  

Now, I won’t pretend that Hickey thinks this, but I DO!  Hickey will never never never forgive Crozier and determines to destroy him.  Then he HE Hickey will become King of the Expedition, just like Crozier is now, and Hickey will even have his own super-tall willowy delicate queen at his side.

It doesn’t work out that way, as we know, because nothing ever works out.  Still, Hickey loves Billy to the end, taking Billy’s head in his hands to say good-bye as lovers do.  The stabbing is a favor to the suffering man, and, if the murder turns out to have its useful aspects, well, so be it.  

That’s my story, and, being a Libra, I can be easily persuaded that I’m wrong about everything.

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

dedicated to @rhavewellyarnbag, @blazingadam, and @wildcard47

[theewrites-tf2]

(Kudos to @teamfortressaswell for the idea, OC REVIVAL FOR 2020!!!)

OC information of Theewrites, ENJOY Y’ALL!

WARNING: LONG, LOOOOOONG POST AHEAD! (And I info-dump alot, so be prepared for some heavy reading material)

(Also, not all of these backstories/OC canon’s are set in stone, and i’m still doing research on their respective characterizations/lifestyles/ect. they’re still in the editing/drafting process, but these are the basics of some of my older OC’s that you may know… and some of my NEW Oc’s that you may NOT know…. Yet, Mwhahaha!)

Regine: Eldest abandoned & disowned daughter of the RED Spy. Born in Marseilles, France, Parisian-raised until five years of age. Vanished suddenly for nearly a decade, resurfaced in Japan as an assassin prodigy at fifteen. Is totally not soft on her half-siblings, but is totally soft on her half-siblings. Cool, regal and calculated, plans to have the world in the palm of her hand before she hits 30. Long-time girlfriend of Matthias, identifies as pan. Has lost her temper one (1) time in her lifetime, immediately went to reapply lipstick afterwards like nothing happened. Definitely has night-terrors about her childhood, doesn’t discuss them with Matthias, and absolutely takes those nightmares to the grave.

Matthias: Unauthorized clone of the RED Medic, is physically near-identical to him with only minor changes and a stark age-reduction. Has considered bleaching/dying his hair to look more different than his predecessor. Expert in human biology and chemistry, experimented with his own blood cells so to transform them into a more… internal version of the components of the Medi-Gun, so as not to carry around clunky equipment. Is the low-key tired dad of the group. Probably designate roadtrips with the squad and immediately regrets it. Romantic-dork for his girl,  Best Supporting Boyfriend 197X.

Emma: Daughter of Ex-MannCo employee, Julia V. Henry and [REDACTED]. Legal goddaughter of Dell Congher. Child-genius, though deep-seated anger issues since childhood, potentially as a behavior coping tragedy. Built her first plane with her bare hands at twelve, can dismantle and rebuild a shotgun in exactly 63 seconds. Doesn’t wear helmets on motorcycle. Feels happiest flying in the air, alone. Absolutely, 100% adores kids, and will never admit it. Can’t go more than a minute without cursing. Also, though not information she shares immediately, she’s an elder twin. And she doesn’t like talking about it, so it’s best not to push her luck on the details.

Lui: Ultimate flower/pastel lesbian. Fluent in Japanese and English, though prefers her mother’s language, Hawaiian. Brings snacks to battle, often rehearses her battle catchphrases the night before. Makes friends with every animal she meets, owns a duck named Bartholomew. Reads teen fashion magazines, draws hearts around models she crushes on. Almost everything she owns has pink, no matter what shade, including her rocket launcher. Shares Emma’s love of the sky, is basically Emma’s favorite person. Infectious genuine smile, and will sing along to every new bop on the radio.

Tamela: The eldest out of the entire group, born in Nigeria, doesn’t know her parents. Considers her squad her family, Emma and Lui are her baby sisters, who can MORE than handle themselves but she still worries. Was gifted with abilities of fire-manipulation/telekinesis and heat resistance at a young age. Entire body, from knuckles to toes, is covered in jet-black flame tattoos. Demisexual, has not been in a romantic relationship as of yet, likely to change. Improvo leader, often first into battle and last to leave. Looks imposing and intense at first glance, is actually very warm (haha) and friendly personality-wise, but has a serious streak from having to grow up quickly.

Denny: Mute from birth, youngest of the group. Has never missed a shot in his life, expert target-shooter and excellent sniping protege. Definitely idolizes Annie Oakley, dressed up as her one year for Halloween.  Often corrects Emma’s sign-language, but appreciates her efforts. Like Tamela, see’s the group as his family, sticking together through thick and thin. Likes to hike, but also enjoys reading, keeping a raggy, decades-old copy of Sherlock Holmes in his knapsack, right next to his additional ammo.

Ricardo: Born Rosetta, the youngest of a fairly well-off hotel-chain family business throughout Tijuana, Mexico. Was often the forgotten one and left to his own devices, so he practiced running, dreaming of being an Olympic runner. Became Ricardo at 15, traveled to the US a year later. A bit boastful and chatty, though is often last to get a joke. Had a crush on Lui for sometime, before reconnecting with an old schoolmate, Maria, who he plans to move back to Mexico with after his job is done. Hasn’t given up on the dreams of the Olympics, often wakes up long before the sun rises to run laps around.

Sigríður Anja Dis Jóhannsson, or just Sig: Operational MannCo. Shipment Specialist Expert, has been on the payroll for only the last decade, but has become invaluable with the knowledge she has. Born in Iceland, has traveled the world on specialized shipment and cargo missions, even in more dangerous missions and item-requests. Has had to play poker for her own life, more than once. Single and childless, though she took care of her half-sisters children when she died suddenly, her niece and nephews now all grown up and located elsewhere. Sig is happy to travel alone on the open seas, though she’s had more than a fair amount of lovers around the world, men and women alike. Looks forward to retirement, hopefully with someone more long-term whose also ready to lean back, put away the balisong and let the kids take care of the damn gravel pit…

Jonathan Marks: Born Jane to wealthy stockbroker located in Manhattan, Jonathan is the promising CEO of Marks Enterprises, an international trading and environmental-studies. As the youngest CEO of his company, he’s expressing interest to making big changes, including looking into MannCo, hoping to form a co-ownership or eventually takeover, mostly for the sake of his own company, but the fact that MannCo seems to have a few secrets in the closet that seem suspicious… Jonathan knows Regine from childhood, as they both attended the same private school in Japan, prior to Jonathan’s transition. Very book-smart, often tries to lead by example, he’s persistent with getting a meeting with representatives of MannCo, growing more suspicious as time goes on with dodged replies, forcing him to contact a current employee for an opportunity of a private tour of their facilities, one Miss. Binyamin-M’laney

Angelita de los Reyes: Second-generation of Cuban immigrants, Angelita was considered one of the kindest, sweetest people while in school in New Jersey, unfortunately, her studies were often halted as she suffers from CFS (Chronic Fatigue Syndrome) leaving her exhausted before noon often times, though she managed to graduate with a specialty in painting. Though she turned mostly house-ridden after high school, she honestly enjoys spending her day painting and creating art to decorate the family-restaurant downstairs, and also sending her artwork to commissioners all over the state. It also gives her time to send plenty of letters to one of her oldest and closest friends from high-school. He was VERY much higher than her in energy, and could literally run blocks in minutes, but they practically grew up together, at least until he moved to New Mexico for work… Though, strangely enough, Angelita doesn’t get much information about Eric’s company Builders League United, even though he has a whole CONTRACT with them… Hm. How odd.

Sarai Binyamin-M’laney: Born in Tel Aviv as a Mizrahi Jewish woman, her parents sent her to vacation in California when she was six, in which they died suddenly, leaving her overseas with her relatives in Cambria, California. Book-smart and a lover of the beach and surfing, Sarai was popular throughout her younger years, especially with the ladies. Though she identified as bisexual, it wasn’t until she graduated college with a degree in human relations and psychology that she had her first, though admittedly short-lived relationship with an unnamed man in Vegas, returning to Cambria shortly after and finding out she was pregnant. A year later, Sarai suddenly expressed interest in the minute human-resources division in MannCo, relocating to New Mexico shortly after her employment. Quiet, smart and with a very private personal life, she was a perfect, though secretive employee, with a bit of a soft-heart, as seen with how concerned she is for her ‘niece’ and ‘nephew’ back in Cambria, and how quickly she snuck in Mr Marks into the private industries. Her personality, perhaps, is meant to be a more opposing to that of the father of her two children in Cambria. After all, though she lives mere miles from his work location, Sarai has yet to bring herself to walk over and face the red-suited mercenary over in the RED base, whom she still can’t help but remember from their time together in Vegas.

 I told y’all it was long as hell, Also it alludes to my OC-canon, which is INSANELY long and i’d hate to waste more of y’alls time on my stuff Xp

 Anyway, GO REVIVE THE OC COMMUNITY, PEOPLE HAVE SUCH AWESOME OC’S THAT NEED/DESERVE TO BE SHARED AROUND!!!

[chaos-of-the-abyss]

Who are your least favorite to favorite sons of Fëanor?

Ask 2: What do you think about the sons of Fëanor, each individually, and overall? Did you take away anything from their stories? Personally I learned a lot while reading about them and I was wondering if anyone else experienced the same thing.

Okay, as you probably guessed, I’ll be answering both these asks in the same post, since the answers to each one tie pretty closely into each other.

7. Amrod

I don’t dislike Amrod at all, but we just…don’t know much about him, so my feelings toward him are mostly indifference. The only thing I might be interested in knowing is his thoughts about his father’s actions, his brothers’ actions, and his own.

6. Amras

It’s almost a tie with Amrod, frankly. The only reason I’m placing Amras above him in this list is because, in The Shibboleth of Fëanor, Amras, horrified by the Kinslaying at Alqualondë defies his father and tried to go back:

“In the morning the host was mustered, but of Fëanor’s seven sons only six were to be found. Then Ambarussa went pale with fear. ‘Did you not then rouse Ambarussa my brother (whom you called Ambarto)?’ he said. 'He would not come ashore to sleep (he said) in discomfort.’ But it is thought (and no doubt Fëanor had guessed this also) that it was in the mind of Ambarto to sail his ship back [?afterwards] and rejoin Nerdanel; for he had been much [?shocked] by the deed of his father. ‘That ship I destroyed first,’ said Fëanor (hiding his own dismay). 'Then rightly you gave the name to the youngest of your children,’ said Ambarussa, 'And Umbarto "the Fated” was its true form. Fell and fey are you become.’ And after that no one dared to speak again to Fëanor of this matter.“

It appears that Fëanor didn’t mean to kill his son, but Amras died anyway. In any case, I find Amras’ righteousness and willingness to stand up for his beliefs impressive. Even after seeing what his father could do, he defied him because he couldn’t bring himself to follow Fëanor after he committed something so atrocious. Given Fëanor’s character, I’d say that’s pretty damn courageous.

5. Caranthir

Caranthir is (somewhat) interesting to me for a few reasons. For one thing, he seems to have taken after Fëanor the most in terms of temper, being noted as the “harshest” and “quickest to anger” among the Fëanorians. It makes me wonder what kind of relationship he had with his father, because Fëanor was hotheaded as well. I would not want to be in the room if those two had dissenting opinions.

Another reason why Caranthir interests me (somewhat) is that he was married. Literally nothing is known about his wife, but I’m curious to know how they parted when he left Aman to follow his father and his brothers to retrieve the Silmarils. I can’t imagine they parted on amicable terms.

The third reason Caranthir is fascinating is his relationship with Haleth. What did he think of her personally? Was he impressed at her independence or offended that his offer was refused? How did she (and her people) affect his opinion of humans?

I also wonder what were his thoughts about the Kinslayings and what he thought about as he was dying. (Morbid of me, I know.)

4. Curufin

Curufin I also find interesting for pretty much the same reasons as Caranthir, although the “harshest and quickest to anger” is replaced by “Fëanor’s favorite” (favoritism is not good for your children, Curufinwë Fëanáro!), “much like him in appearance, temperament, and skill”. I actually can’t imagine being Fëanor’s favorite child would have had a good impact on anyone. Fëanor was a perfectionist, and I feel like he wouldn’t accept anything less than the absolute best from his favorite son, and that he didn’t hold back when expressing disappointment either.

Like I said for Caranthir, his relationship with his wife is also a point of interest. How did they meet and fall in love? What kind of household did they run (and raise Celebrimbor in)? How did their relationship deteriorate over the years? How was their parting?

What was he thinking about as he was dying? Was he regretting his actions? Or did he feel that they were all justified? Was he remembering his wife and his son? And speaking of his son, what was his relationship with Celebrimbor like? And how did Curufin’s actions affect their relationship?

And of course, his relationship with Celegorm. The House of Fëanor has always struck me as quite a dysfunctional one, what with Fëanor and Nerdanel slowly growing apart. Why did Curufin bond with Celegorm the most, out of all his brothers? Was it circumstance? Did they share a common interest? They didn’t strike me as being too similar when I read about them. Or maybe they complemented each other well?

One thing that adds nuance to Curufin is that he balanced love for his son and his wife (probably - hopefully), duty and love for his father and brothers, and his close companionship with Celegorm with the fact that, as @martaaa1506 and I were discussing before, he’s a class-A asshole. Not only did he (and Celegorm) trick Luthien into believing they would help her and then kidnap her instead, he also attempted to kill her after his plans failed. Chill. You’d think the poor girl deliberately ran over his puppy with a car or something, when in fact the only affront Luthien dealt him was obtaining a Silmaril and not, like, handing it over to him or something of the sort.

Personally, what makes Curufin so fascinating for me is that I believe by the point of the events of Beren and Luthien, he’d become the worst version of himself. He was on a downwards spiral since a certain point and by that time, he was wholly obsessed with his oath and willing to do anything to obtain the Silmarils. He was even willing to harm people who didn’t simply surrender them to him (as in Luthien’s case) - that’s how consumed with his oath he’d become, and that’s how far he’d fallen.

3. Celegorm

Celegorm fascinates me for almost the exact same reasons as Curufin, given that they were together so often. Of course, Celegorm wasn’t married, but I’ve always been quite engrossed in his friendships with Oromë, Aredhel, and Huan. With the first, I can’t help imagining the falling out that their companionship would have had, since Celegorm decided to follow his father and brothers into exile.

With the second - it’s just so fascinating, imo. They were close friends and cousins, despite the fact that their fathers had a relationship full of animosity. I can’t imagine that Fëanor was happy with his son’s companionship with his half-brother’s daughter. And he was the one Aredhel sought after she left Gondolin; more evidence of just how strong their friendship was. She left her brother and went to him first. He also later helped Aredhel escape Eöl. It’s pretty clear to me that Celegorm cared a lot about her, and I can’t help thinking he must have been so enraged and grieved when he heard that she died - at the hands of her own husband, no less.

And of course, his relationship with Huan. Huan was one of Celegorm’s oldest companions, and they probably knew each other very well. Huan seemed to be pretty loyal to Celegorm, considering that he followed him into exile despite being a hound given to Celegorm by the Valar. I always wonder how Celegorm must have felt when Huan assisted Luthien over him. Did he blame everything solely on his hound? Or did it make him self-reflect and wonder how far he’d fallen? Tolkien says that the “love between them [Celegorm and Huan] was less than before” after that incident, but that can be interpreted in so many different ways. Obviously, their relationship took a blow, but was it just from mistrust, anger, and resentment?

Speaking of Luthien, am I the only one who always pities Celegorm every time I read about her casting off her disguise and him falling head-over-heels for her? (Though whether he actually did or not is debatable.) He fell hopelessly in love with a woman who’s already in love with a human man; that’s some tough luck right there. It also makes me curious; was it just her beauty? I doubt it.

[As I mentioned in Curufin’s section, their brotherly dynamics fascinate me as well.]

All these things aside, Celegorm, like Curufin, was an asshole. Love Luthien or not, it doesn’t change the fact that he deceived and kidnapped her and intended to force her to marry him. (It was also a politically driven move to secure Doriath, but still.) Like Curufin, I think Celegorm was, by that point, the worst version of what he could have been, fulfilled. He was at the height of his negative potential, so to speak.

Also, I don’t know if this is just me, but I think Celegorm would have been really heartbroken to hear that Huan died defending Beren, someone he hates. This is his companion that’s been with him for thousands of years, who not only abandons him but dies for the sake of this human man. A lot of resentment towards Huan, and a lot more hatred towards Beren, I think, would have been caused by that. Personally, I feel Celegorm had a deep-seated personal grudge against Beren and Luthien’s line because of all that transpired between himself and Huan on account of Beren and Luthien. Plus, if he really was in love with Luthien (a fucked up love, I must admit), it must have stung to hear that she chose mortality, again for the sake of Beren. Ouch.

2. Maedhros

I know, I know, I can hear the surprise. Maedhros is second, and not first? (Most people love Maedhros the most, and Maglor second, though it’s quite a close case in some.) Admittedly, Maglor won by a very narrow margin. I’ll explain my reasons in his section.

Ah, Maedhros… how can I express why I love him so much? As @arya-durin-51 put it so perfectly, Maedhros is a stellar mix of both duty, love, and personal morals, acting on all of them at varying points in his life. He runs a perfect balance between doing his duty, acting out of personal love for those in his family, and a general sense of righteousness. Here are a few (emphasis on few) examples:

Maedhros followed Fëanor because he loved his father, but also had a duty towards him as his oldest son. It was this mix of duty and love that prompted him to continue following Fëanor even after his father’s actions at Alqualondë, yet he wasn’t wholly controlled by those traits, either, as shown when he expected the ships to be sent back for Fingolfin’s people and was angered by and refused to take part in the burning of the ships, motivated by personal morality and love for Fingon.

Maedhros attempted to negotiate with and trick Morgoth, a risky move (tht resulted in his capture and torture), because he felt it was his duty; he swore the Oath, because he felt it was right; he had to take this opportunity or the deaths his father caused, and his father’s own death, might be for nothing, and because he loved his kin and didn’t want them to be damned; if he could take this risk and reclaim a Silmaril, they would be closer to accomplishing their oath and less likely to suffer the “everlasting darkness” that they mentioned should they fail to reclaim the Silmarils.

Maedhros surrendered his kingship to Fingolfin because of his personal morality: he felt that his house wronged Fingolfin’s, and that he owed Fingon a debt for rescuing him from Thangorodrim. He stood by these despite the fact that his decision was met with dislike from his brothers.

Maedhros argued against Maglor’s idea to ask for the two Silmarils peacefully again because of duty, love, personal honor, and fear. He felt that he’d done too much to be forgiven, and that trying the peaceful way would prevent him from fulfilling his oath (duty), and thus, render the deaths he caused pointless (personal honor), and damn him and his brothers to the Void (love and fear).

I could go on and on, but you get the idea. The notion that love is the very opposite of duty… well, Maedhros says hi.

Also, Maedhros seems to be the leader among the House of Fëanor after his father’s death, naturally, since he is the oldest and the elves of Aman seem patriarchal to me. All the brothers did their own thing, but I do think there’s a recurring occurrance of them gathering around Maedhros’ banner at times.

We should also consider his adoption of Elrond and Elros. I’ve never doubted that Maedhros loved those kids and that they did love him back, but was that really all? [This will be more expanded on in Maglor’s part.]

I’ve always been partial to angst-riddled characters as well, and Maedhros definitely has a good amount of angst under his belt. He was tortured at the hands of Morgoth and Sauron for thirty years. That’s longer than I’ve been alive. It could have utterly broken him and turned him into just a husk, but even after enduring that, he still marches against Morgoth; again, because of duty, because of love, and because of personal honor.

And of course, we have his suicide. Thinking about Maedhros’ state of mind when he jumped into that chasm makes my heart break every time. I can’t imagine how he must have felt: he’s in terrible pain because of the Silmaril, but he can’t bear to let go of it because he’s done so many things to reclaim it, and if he lets it go now, literally all of that would be pointless. Innocents would have died for nothing. His little brothers would have died for nothing. And speaking of his brothers, I imagine Maedhros was absolutely torn with guilt when it comes to them. He was the eldest, the (in my opinion) unspoken leader, but he was one of the two last survivors. I always thought he believed he failed to protect them. Then there’s the guilt over all of his actions. Maedhros regretted many of the things he committed because of his Oath. Taking all of those factors into consideration… scarily, it’s not at all difficult to understand Maedhros’ decision.

All in all, he’s just such a tragically complex, heart-wrenching character that I can’t not love him with all my heart.

1. Maglor

As made obvious through the process of elimination, if nothing else, Maglor is my favorite out of the Fëanorians. I think it has something to do with his surviving the entirety of the First Age’s events (perhaps he committed suicide later, though).

First, there’s the fact that he was married, which is clearly always a point of fascination for me when it comes to the sons of Fëanor. Same deal; how did they meet, how did they fall in love, and how did they fall apart?

Like Maedhros, Maglor was motivated by duty, love, and honor. He followed Fëanor for the sake of his love for his father and his duty towards the head of his family. He committed his (frankly quite terrible) actions to reclaim the Silmarils out of love for his family, not wanting them to be subjected to the aforementioned “eternal darkness” of the Oath, and a sense of personal morality, feeling that if he didn’t, everyone who fell victim to his pursuit of the Silmarils would have suffered for nothing.

I also imagine that Maglor felt a lot of guilt for the fall of Maglor’s Gap. Since he was the second eldest son of Fëanor, I’m pretty sure that he was in charge of the district, but it was lain waste to by Glaurung. One can assume that being attacked by a dragon led to many, many deaths and a lot of gruesome violence, which I think Maglor, as the governor(?) of sorts of Maglor’s Gap, must have felt some kind of responsibility for.

What mainly draws me towards Maglor is the fact that he, out of the seven brothers, was described to be the most like Nerdanel, inheriting her “gentle temperament”. Nerdanel, as we know, was extremely affected by Fëanor’s individual actions, to the point of desparating from him when it became too much for her to bear. Because of that I think Maglor, out of the seven brothers, thought the most about his crimes, which led to the most regret. That doesn’t mean he was a wimp, just that he felt his guilt the most strongly out of the seven. Not that the other brothers didn’t feel the same guilt; more that Maglor allowed his actions and consequentially, his remorse, to affect him the most.

[Applies to Maedhros as well.] His relationship with Elrond and Elros is so fascinating, in my opinion. (Along with the fact that it also proves Maglor had a fatherly side, which I love.) I imagine he first adopted them out of guilt and pity, and later came to love them as if they were his own sons. As stated, “love grew between them”, but their dynamic strikes me as more complicated. Elrond and Elros still did witness the remaining sons of Fëanor attack their home and massacre many of its inhabitants. If it were me, I don’t think I could easily forgive that, even if Maedhros and Maglor were nothing but kind and loving to me. Yet despite this glaring knot in their relationship, Maedhros and Maglor raised those twins really, really well. Just look at the kind of people Elrond and Elros grew up to be. I’m curious; how did they fix such a serious issue? Did they just ignore it? Did they explain their actions to Elrond and Elros and earn forgiveness?

And thinking about how Maglor (and Maedhros) must have felt to let Elrond and Elros go… I cry every time.

Then we come to post-Morgoth’s defeat, where Maedhros and Maglor steal the Silmarils from Eönwë’s camp. Maglor actually argued that they should try to reclaim them peacefully, which, given all the shit that’s happened to so many people because of the Fëanorians, is a pretty huge risk. The Valar (and Eönwë) have good reason not to accept any offers of peace from him and Maedhros, and the result of such a refusal would probably be the capture of Maedhros and Maglor. So why the argument that they should attempt a negotiation? I can imagine so many heartrending motivations behind this, honestly. I think it was a combination of these factors:

Maglor was just exhausted of all the violence and all the bloodshed; he felt that he had committed too many sins and he was sick of it. Like I said, given Maglor’s “gentle temperament”, I believe he felt the weight of his actions more strongly than his brothers because he allowed himself to.

Maglor felt that violence would lead to worse things. He left his home, his wife, and his mother, and has killed many, many people, and still doesn’t have anything good to show for it. The only effects are: he’s left a trail of victims in his wake, his younger brothers are all dead, and one of the Silmarils, which he participated in two separate Kinslayins to obtain, is out of his reach.

Maglor longed for redemption and forgiveness. I mean, who wouldn’t? Again, given his personality, I think his sins affected him the most emotionally and mentally out of all of his brothers because he let them get to him. At that point, he was disgusted with himself and everything he’d done, and hoping that if he could make it up somehow. And plus, even if he did fulfill his oath, what’s left for him? He’d surely remain banned from Valinor because of everything he did. I think Maglor was pretty desperately hoping to make amends.

In the end, though, Maglor was swayed by Maedhros’ caution that the sons of Fëanor wouldn’t be forgiven. Much like Maedhros, he was influenced by duty, love, personal honor, and fear. He was terrified that if the peaceful way didn’t work (a very valid concern on both Maedhros and Maglor’s parts, because frankly, it’s difficult to earn forgiveness after everything they’ve done) he would be failing to fulfill his oath (duty), and thus, make the deaths he caused pointless (personal honor), and damn him and his brothers to the Void (love and fear). These concerns in Maglor overpowered the desires and concerns listed above, and he agreed with Maedhros to steal the Silmarils. I like that. I like that some things in Maglor were overshadowed by others.

And we have Maglor’s fate to consider. (I won’t talk about his death here, since he’s not confirmed to be dead.) Maglor, unable to bear the pain of the Silmaril that he held, threw it into the sea, and afterwards, wandered the shores for eternity, lamenting. Personally, I believe the “pain of the Silmaril” was more than just the physical pain of it burning Maglor’s hands, but the emotional and psychological pain it brought him to look at something that he abandoned his home, his mother, and his wife for, something that he caused so much death and bloodshed for, something that his younger brothers died trying to obtain. Maglor was just done with Silmarils and done with the Oath; he didn’t want to think about it or have anything to do with it anymore, and just threw it into the ocean. Some part of me wonders if he also regretted it afterwards, thinking that what he did rendered all the deaths (the deaths of those he killed as well as the deaths of his brothers) pointless.

By this time, I think Maglor was fully and utterly consumed with despair and regret. He can’t return to Valinor and face the Valar his mother, or his wife, because of all the crimes he committed. He can’t even face his brothers, because, in the end, he gave up the Silmaril. All-in-all, Maglor believed that he was irredeemable and that there was nothing in the world left for him. And his story ends on this depressing, depressing note. Some fans think he committed suicide, and given his state of mind by the end, it’s heartbreaking to say that it’s not impossible; perhaps Maglor decided that even the “everlasting darkness” was better than living at that point.

Maglor’s character arc ends in utter tragedy for him, and I love that I’m such a sadomasochist. He’s such a morally grey character and so complex, but there is absolutely no happy ending for him. Maglor’s story closes on a fate so bleak that you’d think it belongs to some kind of absolutely, completely, despicable villain. Arguably, that’s the fate of all the sons of Fëanor, but personally I think Maglor’s ending is the most disheartening of the brothers’ endings. I already adored him before, and the fact that his development ends at his very lowest, most despair-inducing state sealed the coffin for me, so to speak.

I first read The Silmarillion when I was 13, and it had a gigantic impact on my perception of being morally grey. The seven sons of Fëanor have done awful, awful things. I’m especially horrified at the fact that they attacked a refugee camp (the Havens of Sirion) and killed most of its inhabitants - refugees. They deserve to answer for and take responsibility for their actions, but that most certainly doesn’t make them non-sympathetic, one-dimensional, or complete villains.

If there’s anything I can say Professor Tolkien has taught me with these beautiful, nuanced characters, it’s these two things:

1. Don’t throw away your morals for your goals. Over the course of reaching for their goal of reclaiming the Silmarils, the Fëanorians abandoned so much of their personal morality. Celegorm, Caranthir, Curufin, Amrod, and Amras paid the price through death. Maedhros and Maglor reached a point that even the Silmarils, the objects that they were so determined to obtain, rejected them, and they had to stomach all of their guilt and grief on top of all that, living to see the repercussions of their actions. Achieving your goals is good, but remain yourself. Don’t let those goals consume you.

2. Fear can be much more powerful motivator than hatred. I personally think that while overall, the seven brothers might have been driven by hatred for Morgoth at first, in the end it was something much more primal that became a motivation that they all shared: fear. They were all terrified, in my opinion, of what awaited them should they fail to fulfill their oath. Maedhros and Maglor, in particular, might have also been driven by guilt and desire for redemption - at least, these traits were more prevalently displayed in them than in their younger brothers - but fear was a motivation that all seven of them shared.

Sorry for the extremely long reply, lol. I wasn’t at all intending to make it this lengthy, but my Tolkien nerd side just came out. Plus, I’ve been wanting to explore my feelings toward the sons of Fëanor in depth for a while now, and these two questions gave me the perfect opportunity.

[marshmallowgoop]

Satsuki meta anon here again, apologies, but I was reading some meta that you wrote surrounding Soichiro/Isshin and his relatively necessity to abandon both his daughters, and wanted to contribute my own thoughts on the matter, specifically around the matter of difference of the nature of how alone both of them are. You nailed it completely with Ryuko. Isshin left Ryuko alone, wounded by his severance of their closeness in her early years and making it nearly impossible to bond with others. But-

-my reading of Satsuki’s situation is one of equal isolation, if of a different kind. Soichiro introduced her to a world where she can’t even trust her own mother, usually one of the, if not the most, strongest bonds a child could have at that age. Coupled with the fact that she was likely taught early on that being a child of a family with the wealth and power meant that people would try and use her for a piece of that, and you have a recipe for a grieving child incapable of trust without major investments of time and effort and frankly, some testing. 

Soroi is in the employ of the family, paid by the family to serve Satsuki. In the beginning, while she accepted his attempts to comfort her via tea and an introduction of one of her closest friends, its very likely that she didn’t trust him right away even if she desperately wanted to bc of how closely money could play a part in that kind of trust. Yes Soichiro asked Soroi to look after her, but is that something he could have easily conveyed to her at that junction and have her believe it? I think the trust they attained by the time Satsuki went to middle school was very hard earned on Soroi’s part. 

When it comes to Nonon, the light novel confirms that she didn’t find Satsuki interesting until she was very deeply troubled, a change that Satsuki very likely noticed the difference in her interest beyond that of two children of powerful families associating together. They may have been friends since preschool, but arguably Satsuki did not trust her until Nonon followed her away from a school that suited Nonon’s tastes and into a rougher one. Iori likely suffered from being placed in a similar boat as Soroi, not to be trusted for the sake of his uncle’s employment until proof otherwise (obviously earned as well, considering just how central Iori was to her plans and inner circle). 

While Ryuko was utterly alone because of a broken ability to bond from separation anxiety turned to abandonment issues, Satsuki found herself alone among others who might very well sell her out for power or money, regardless of their true intentions. Both are very isolating situations. And I’d argue that trusting people with plans and secrets and perhaps your life are markedly different than fully entrusting your heart to them, which has been played up by the anime as a large difference between Ryuko and Satsuki. Where Ryuko opens her heart to Mako and Senketsu, Satsuki’s heart remains closed still until far later.

In fact, because of this, Ragyo saying ‘give your heart over to me’ (Netflix subs, I think I’ve seen it translated as ‘entrust your heart to me’ as well) has always stood out to me as understanding Satsuki doesn’t trust like that, which is what separates her from Nui and Rei. 

Apologies for the length of this, and that I keep doing this your inbox, but this interpretation has been sitting inside of me since 2014. 

Oh my goodness, Anon!

I hope this doesn’t come off wrong, but I think you really ought to be posting these analyses under your own name. You deserve credit for your excellent work! As much as I’m thrilled that someone would want to discuss these topics at such length with me—seriously, you do not have to apologize at all for engaging with my content so much because that is literally my goal—I feel that you should also be getting recognition for what you do. I know how much time and effort goes into writing stuff like this.

Of course, I do understand that there are valid reasons to wish to be anonymous. I just want to say that these are good, detailed posts that could stand very well on their own, without any input from me.

Regarding my input here, these asks remind me of a line from “KILL la KILL Digest -Naked Memories by Aikuro Mikisugi-,” a quick recap “episode” that was included as a DVD/Blu-ray extra. Narrated by Aikuro, the short briefly explains the entire plot of Kill la Kill and then sets up the OVA with its final lines: “As for Satsuki Kiryuin, who led such an intense life ever since she could remember, totally alone… What kind of clothes will she choose to wear from now on? That’s the one thing that intrigues me.”

As you might expect, I always disagreed with the sentiment of Satsuki being “totally alone.” In the tags of one post, I even wrote, in response, “Nah man you’re thinking of Ryuko” and, “Satsuki had Soroi and Shiro and her Elite Four.” As I argued in the essay that you’re probably referring to, Isshin/Soichiro left Ryuko alone—and drj2008 even opened me up to the idea that he perhaps very purposely created and utilized Ryuko’s loneliness so that she would be so desperate for love that she’d bond more easily with Senketsu—but Isshin/Soichiro did at least assure that Satsuki would always have someone by her side when he told Soroi to look after her.

And I think that’s the key point of difference here. I’d never before considered that Soroi would need to gain Satsuki’s trust because I assumed he had it from the very start. My interpretation was that Soroi had to be a dear, close friend of Soichiro for Soichiro to ever ask him to look after Satsuki, and Satsuki—who adored her father, arguably to a troubling degree—wouldn’t question her father’s judgment. From the moment Soroi and Satsuki met, I believed that she would know, just by understanding Soroi’s relation to her father, that Soroi was someone to be trusted.

But I see now that my reading makes a lot of assumptions. Who knows when exactly Soroi told Satsuki that Soichiro had asked him to look after her? Satsuki might have been informed that Soroi was her father’s choice in some way (which is… actually quite curious, honestly), and Soroi might have told her that he knew everything early on, but you’re right—we don’t really know. I think your reading is very fair.

Concerning Nonon, I agree completely. I found Nonon’s part in the light novel to be absolutely tragic. Talking about the story, I once said, “It just shows how Satsuki did not trust Nonon at all.” Nonon was head-over-heels infatuated with Satsuki, but Satsuki didn’t even bother to tell Nonon when she was moving schools. That’s the exact opposite of trust.

I swear I don’t normally talk about my fanfiction in my essays as much as I have been in these responses, but I explored Satsuki and Nonon’s dynamic in a short Satsunon Roman Empire AU. In my piece, Nonon learns that Satsuki is going away by hearing some chatter, and to prove to Satsuki that she’s worth trusting, she runs to Satsuki before Satsuki leaves, declaring that she’s coming with no matter what. At the end of the fic—and this is the relevant part here—Satsuki meets with Nonon again after the world has been saved, and Satsuki finally opens her heart up, noting that she wants Nonon by her side, as a friend and equal, and she’s done with being treated as a goddess to be worshipped.

And I think that’s a big thing you’re touching on here, Anon. Satsuki may have had all these people around her, but many of them considered her to be something more than human. And that is lonely. It’s difficult to reveal your insecurities and doubts and fears to someone who sees you as a god. After all, they’re probably not going to listen; they think you’re “above” all that. Satsuki was very much isolated, just like Ryuko.

However, I still disagree with Aikuro’s assertion that Satsuki was “totally alone,” mainly due to Soroi. Regardless of how long Satsuki took to open up to Soroi, I think she most certainly had trusted him with her heart at least by the events of the series. The moment where the two converse about Soroi’s tea in episode 17 is probably the most telling example within the show itself; Satsuki smiles genuinely for Soroi and even reveals her hidden emotions, readily admitting that she may have been more compassionate in the past.

I can’t definitively say how much Satsuki let Shiro or the Elite Four in, but Soroi? There is complete and total trust here. And while I dislike comparing Soroi to Senketsu because I feel this too easily lends itself to the interpretation that Senketsu is a father figure to Ryuko (which is my absolute least favorite reading of Kill la Kill and one that I consider to be a complete and total misreading of the text #PleaseStopSenketsuIsRyuko’sDadTheories2k19), I do have to admit that Soroi is, for the majority of the anime, the one person whom Satsuki seems to truly be herself with, just as Senketsu is for Ryuko. 

Concerning the episode 17 scene mentioned above, I think it’s also pretty telling that Satsuki’s moment with Soroi occurs just after an intimate conversation between Ryuko and Senketsu that the script even emphasizes as a heart-to-heart that Ryuko deliberately wanted to have with Senketsu and Senketsu alone. Sure, I’ve argued in the past that the real connection between the scenes comes from Ryuko’s later chat with Aikuro and the fact that both Aikuro and Satsuki are discussing Soichiro/Isshin, but it’s also true that both Ryuko and Satsuki have very vulnerable, humanizing moments here. Soroi knows Satsuki’s heart, and she reveals it to him, just as Ryuko (quite literally!) shares her heart with Senketsu.

Of course, I think it’s clear that Ryuko’s relationship with Senketsu is one among peers while Soroi takes on a fatherly role for Satsuki in the place of Soichiro, but Soroi is still someone whom Satsuki trusts with her whole heart and soul. As pointed out, it may very well be true that Satsuki didn’t have that kind of trust in Soroi immediately, but I figure it can’t have taken too terribly long for the relationship between them to become close. After all, as noted in the aforementioned episode 17 scene, even young Satsuki smiled for Soroi when she had stopped smiling at school. Satsuki wasn’t being genuine, yes, but she was still breaking her hard guise for Soroi, and 18-year-old Satsuki is even surprised that she wasn’t honest back then, implying that she feels they’ve been as close as they are since practically the beginning.

I know this got terribly long, but I don’t at all disagree that Satsuki had also been subjected to an isolating situation. It is lonesome to feel, as outlined in an early advertisement introducing Satsuki’s character, that “humans are clothes-wearing pigs” whom she must “dominate,” “rule over,” and “destroy,” all while “relying on no one.” It is awful to believe that you have to do everything all alone, without sharing your true self with anyone.

And it’s sad, too! Satsuki’s struggles to truly trust others lead her to inadvertently hurt the people she cares about, and there’s something especially tragic about how Satsuki used and manipulated her own sister—whom Satsuki was fighting for all along!—rather than tell the girl the truth and trust her. As I’ve written in the past, “While Satsuki is not truly against Ryuko, her plan prevents them from being close. The thought of Satsuki fills Ryuko with hatred… when they could have been allies and friends. Satsuki’s tired, sad frown as Ryuko returns to normal [after going berserk in episode 12], juxtaposed with the Mankanshoku family’s shock and Nui’s bemusement, does well in hinting that maybe Satsuki wishes she had Mako’s power herself… and she’s sorry that she doesn’t.”

But more than all this, even Ryuko points out how alone Satsuki is after fighting Satsuki to a draw in episode 15. Ryuko only gets as far as she does by putting her complete and utter faith in Senketsu—and notably here, she follows through with his strategy even without knowing exactly what he intends to do—and she recognizes that Satsuki… doesn’t bond like that.

In pushing a point like this, I think the show definitely wants viewers to notice that Satsuki is stuck in a hard, isolating situation where she feels she can’t entrust her heart to anyone.

But I think the show also wants viewers to notice that Satsuki is more than capable of loving and trusting in the same way that Ryuko does. Ryuko doesn’t have a clue about someone like Soroi when she accuses Satsuki of being by herself, and as I’ve emphasized all throughout this monster of a post, I wholeheartedly believe that at least Soroi had fully earned Satsuki’s trust, even if it took a moment. Satsuki just about always had someone she felt safe with, whereas Ryuko… lost all that when her father abandoned her and didn’t find it again until she met the Mankanshokus and Senketsu. There’s a reason that one of Ryuko’s defining features is her loneliness, pointed out in her character introduction with the line, “Ever since I could remember, I was alone,” in her (and Senketsu’s) theme song “Before my body is dry” with lines like, “But I’m all alone,” and, “Don’t wanna be all alone,” in her fantasy world in episodes 20-21, and even by the cast, such as when the Mankanshokus note that Ryuko has to be super lonely to talk to her clothes or when even Ragyo tells Satsuki to go join her “lonely little sister” in death.

Ryuko gets a lot of heat for not being as strong as Satsuki upon learning her true origins, but I argue that you can’t really blame her. Even if Satsuki closed off her heart to most people, she undoubtedly grew up with a support system that Ryuko did not have until practically adulthood. Satsuki manages to keep her head up and carry on not only because of her immeasurable resolve and ambition, but also because she has a lifetime of love and support. Satsuki is not as alone as Ryuko claims (and I’d really like the Satsuki-centric Kill la Kill the Game: IF to elaborate on Ryuko understanding as much), and I feel that Soroi is genuinely an unsung hero of Kill la Kill. Could Satsuki have been nearly as strong without his influence?

I guess this is maybe a bit off topic, though.

In any case, I definitely agree that Satsuki struggled to open her heart to others, and I definitely agree that this is a hard, sad, awful place to be in. Part of what makes Satsuki’s team-up with Senketsu near the end of the series so sweet to me is that it is here that Satsuki really begins to open up. She doesn’t look down on Senketsu, she acknowledges his feelings, and in a cut moment from the script, she even outright tells him to wear her, thereby fully and completely trusting him to work with her and save Ryuko. Senketsu noting that his and Satsuki’s “hearts are as one” in episode 21 is one of the most heartwarming things in the entire anime when you consider everything that Satsuki has gone through. She’s been afraid to trust and afraid to show her true self to anyone, and yet… to save her sister, she opens up her heart to someone she had once considered evil and incapable of love.

And after this? Satsuki, despite saying in her introduction that she will be “bowing down to no one,” bows down to Ryuko.

And she smiles openly.

She laughs.

Satsuki was absolutely stuck in this lonesome, isolating position. But just like Ryuko, she gets out of it—and just like Ryuko, it’s so incredibly, incredibly sweet that she does.

[stillthewordgirl]

LOT/CaptainCanary fic: (I Don’t Believe in) Destiny (Ch. 6 of 11)

Leonard Snart is back, finally pulled from the timestream where he's spent the last four years. But he wasn't alone, and the repercussions of that will echo through the Legends, the Time Bureau, and beyond.

Can also be read here at AO3 or here at FF.net.

Ch. Six: Through All That Masquerade

Sara rubs her forehead as she walks through the Waverider’s hallways. For all she’s learned and all she’s seen as the Waverider’s captain, temporal theory can still make her head hurt.

They’re staying for a bit, probably just a night and day, both to gather more information and by popular demand. Nate and Nora had proven difficult to pry out of the Refuge’s library. John, in a rush to prove just how much he didn’t care about such idyllic country life, had immediately tried to slouch back to the Waverider, but Nora had quickly caught him, waving a book in front of his face that made his eyes go wide—and sent him at a trot toward the library.

Charlie, whom Sara had expected to be nearly as cynical as John, alternated between listening to every piece of music she can get her hands on in the Refuge’s music library—including, she’d said enthusiastically, a full history of punk in all its forms—and trying to drag Zari down there to listen to it too.

Zari was rather more enamored with the kitchen, or rather, the pantry—and, a little to Sara’s surprise, she’d befriended a number of the children at large about the place. They’d seen nothing of young Michael Carter, and with that information, Zari and Ray had managed to get a somewhat nervous Gideon, in human shape, to come with them to the house. Sara isn’t sure what the AI had been expecting, but Mary Xavier had greeted her, literally, with open arms. As far as Sara knew, the two were now off together, talking quietly.

They’d all been invited to stay there, in real beds in a real house, and most of the Legends had taken the offer. Sara had wanted some quiet and solitude, though, and the familiar surroundings of the ship, so she’d walked back here alone, thinking about all Mary had said…and all she hadn’t said.

And about Ava.

She couldn’t have been a Time Master. Or couldn’t become one in the future. Either. Both. Just…no.

There’s a niggling little doubt in her, though, and Sara hates it. For as long as Sara has known her, Ava has been about law and order and control. Of herself, of the world around her. She goes by the book. She believes in the good of the many over the good of the few. 

And for all her strength, she often felt inferior. Because of the clone thing, mostly, Sara knows, but inheriting the Time Bureau from Rip in such a dramatic matter hadn’t helped. Neither had the disaster of this past year, the loss of so many time agents Ava felt responsible for.

Druce had been able to get to her. Sara can’t help but feel a little rotten about that, although she knows that their break-up had been mutual, an acknowledgment that Sara wasn’t happy trying to be the person Ava wanted and vice versa. But…

Enough. Sara stops on the quiet bridge and looks around. She needs a distraction. Maybe it would have been better to stay at the house. At least there’d be plenty of that.

“Hey.”

Or maybe distraction had followed her. Sara turns on her heel at the sound of the drawl, smiling as she sees Leonard holding up the doorway at the other end of the room, watching her.

“I thought you were staying there,” she says, ambling slowly toward him. “You and Mick were talking, and I figured eventually you’d find that library.”

Leonard watches her through his lashes. “Mick was catching me up on more of the last few years,” he drawled, pulling out of his lean a little. “At least, until some of the others dragged him off to see something and he abandoned me”

Despite the words, his tone is light, so Sara grins. “Aaaawwww,” she says, going up on her toes and reaching out to run her fingers down the lapels of his jacket, which Gideon had somehow salvaged and cleaned. “Are you settling for spending time with me?”

Leonard smirks back, but his eyes go a bit dark, and he leans forward a little, into her space, taking her breath away.

“Time with you will never be settling,” he says quietly, intensity in his voice. But he still doesn’t touch her. Not quite.

Oh, they’re playing games, are they? Well, if he wants her to take the lead, Sara’s up for that. “So, the kids are all at grandma’s house,” she suggests, knowing her own voice has dipped a little, throaty and suggestive. “Wanna play?”

A smile flickers over Leonard’s face, lighting his eyes in a very satisfying way.

“Well,” he returns, “never reckoned on being a father, given the piss-poor example I had. But in this case…”

Sara feels a momentarily burst of awkwardness. The analogy had seemed apt enough but given their agreement to just have a bit of fun for now, see where things took them, she feels likes she’s brought in a more serious element. No matter that the “kids” in question are technically responsible adults, or for that matter, she could be a single mom…

This is ridiculous. She shakes off the lingering thought of how nice it would be to have a full partner on the Waverider, focusing on the now, and tightens her fingers on his jacket, pulling him closer. Leonard’s hands land on her hips, warm and strong, and Sara tilts her head, and...

...catches her breath and laughs right out loud as he picks her up (with a muttered “oof” she deigns not to acknowledge). “Hey,” she mock-objects, wrapping her legs around him and moving her hands to his shoulders. “Where are we going?”

“Hmmm...” Leonard carries her toward the middle of the bridge. “Holotable? Captain’s chair? Any preference?”

The very timber of his voice tells her pretty explicitly what he plans to do there. Sara shivers, libido going from interested to off the charts. Still, she laughs again as he pauses.

“We have a big, fairly comfortable—for the ship, anyway—bed just down the hall, and you want to get frisky on the bridge?” she asks with amusement, realizing belatedly that the “we” also assumes something beyond simply sharing space.

Leonard’s eyes gleam at her, though he doesn’t answer directly. Then he looks over her shoulder. “Holotable, I think,” he muses in that damned sexy drawl, hands tightening on...oh, of course, they’ve slipped down to her ass. “More room.”

The last two words emerge in more of a purr than anything else. Sara shivers again, pressing against him as he carries her to the holotable. The new jeans Gideon had made for him in the fabrication room leave little to the imagination at the moment, and he’s clearly just as aroused by this as she is.

“Holotable it is, then,” she whispers as he sits her down on the edge. “So, this has been a fantasy, huh?”

Leonard, hands still on her ass, pulls her forward a little, flush against him again, making her gasp. “It’s been…an ambition,” he admits, voice husky.

“Since when?” Sara squirms against him, grinning as he mutters profanity under his breath, fingers tightening.

“Since that first day on the Waverider.”

He ducks his head abruptly, and then Sara’s kissing him, hands moving to his jaw as his fingers move to the snap of her pants.

She’ll never be able to look at the holotable quite the same way again.

*

“Captain! Sara? Are you in there?”

Leonard wakes up abruptly at the voice—Heywood, he thinks. He blinks the sleep out of his eyes as Sara mouths profanity into his collarbone, arms tightening around him.

They’re back in their…her…the room, having made it back somehow after indelibly changing the Waverider bridge forever in his mind. (And thank god Gideon, in android form, had been at the Refuge and not around to “see” anything.) They’d continued their activities in bed, and Leonard is both pleasantly tired and entirely satisfied.

“Sara? Are you OK? Do you know where Snart is?”

With a groan, Sara pulls away, rising to her feet and reaching for a robe. Leonard, just a fraction of a second later, does the same, grabbing pants and a T-shirt from one of the drawers he’s claimed as his own. If Heywood barges in here, he doesn’t want to be as…relaxed as he lets himself be with Sara.

He’s barely pulled them on when Sara, clad in the robe and nothing else, throws open the door and barks, “What?”

From behind her, Leonard can see the historian/hero gape at her.

“Um,” he manages. “Sorry. We were looking for you and there’s…uh…your shoes and the shirt you were wearing yesterday were kinda just lying there in the middle of the bridge…”

Apparently they’d missed a few things before going back to the room. Sara sighs, Leonard smirks, and Heywood cranes his neck, suddenly realizing there’s someone else there.

“Who…oh!” His eyes widen before he tries to conceal the reaction. “Um…what…”

Behind him, Zari facepalms.

“You are the most clueless,” she mutters through her fingers. Leonard remembers that Sara has said Zari and Heywood had had a bit of a thing at one point, though it hadn’t lasted long. He rather thinks Zari’s more into Charlie, anyway.

“You knew about this?” Heywood asks her plaintively. Zari rolls her eyes at him, as does Leonard, and the two share a smile as Sara decides she’s had enough.

“What do you want?” she sighs. “Seriously, I thought I had a chance for a break…”

“Mary Xavier asked to see you,” the historian adds quickly. “Uh. And Snart.”

“Got it. Tell her we’ll be there soon.” Sara shuts the door in his face and lets out an aggravated breath.

Trying not to chuckle, Leonard saunters over, pulling her into his arms. How has he gotten so easy with this all of a sudden? “Kids, huh?”

“Some days it feels that way.” Sara lets her head thump on his shoulder. “I wonder what Mary wants.”

Leonard, who’d been both intrigued and unnerved by the woman, shrugs. “For us to bring her some Big Belly Burger the next time we pay a visit? Who knows?”

Sara shakes her head, though she does so smiling, pulling away to Leonard’s regret. “Well, let’s go see what it is. And see if the ‘kids’ behaved.”

“If they didn’t, can we ground them?”

*

Mary Xavier’s in her office when Sara and Leonard walk in together. Sara watches the older woman’s eyes flicker from one of them to the other, a smile—a sad smile?—crossing her face.

Huh. Sara frowns briefly but modulates the expression as Mary focuses on her.

“Captain Lance, Mr. Snart,” the other woman says. “Thank you for coming.” She pauses. “I would, however, like to speak to you individually, please.”

Sara and Leonard exchange a glance. Neither of them, Sara thinks, is very happy about that, but Leonard nods curtly, taking a step backward toward the door, then another.

“Be outside,” he tells Sara, eyes still on Mary, who gazes steadily back.

“OK.” Sara waits until the door closes behind him, then frowns again at Mary, who simply smiles at her.

“I am sorry,” she says with a tinge of regret. “Still, I have my reasons.” She pauses, picking a compass-like object up from her desk and then putting it back down. “Mostly, I asked you hear to tell you that...that if things do not go well, at the Vanishing Point, you are welcome here.” A wave of her hand seems to include all of the Refuge itself. “This place is out of time, and I can hide you and yours indefinitely”

Sara blinks at her. “Thank you,” she says almost involuntarily. Then: “Do you really think the odds are that far against us?”

“The truth is, Captain Lance, that I do not know.” Mary sighs. “I know what I hope for. I know what I think...but nothing is set in stone.”

Sara makes a thoughtful noise. “Even if...if the time loop has happened? Already? Or before?”

Mary spreads her hands out before her. “What is before? What is after? Time is more fluid than many people realize. As I said earlier, there’s a chance of breaking the chain here. The wheel. Whatever you wish to call it.”

Sara nods, accepting this despite her qualms. Then she pauses. “And...Leonard?”

Mary meets her eyes. “He’s at risk, with this,” she admits. “Only one of them—your Snart and Zaman Druce—can come out of this.” Her gaze is kind. “It could be Mr. Snart. I hope it is. But, my dear...this isn’t certain.”

Sara lets out a long breath. “So...”

“So, appreciate what you have. While you have it.” She nods. “Always, I think, good advice.”

*

Sara emerges from the office looking very thoughtful. Leonard steps toward her, noting the sadness in her eyes as she focuses on him, no matter how well she tries to disguise it.

“OK?” he asks quietly.

“Hmm.” She pauses, and Leonard knows she’s not going to lie to him. “I don’t know. I hope so.” She shakes her head. “Talk about it later, OK?”

“Got it.”

Mary Xavier is looking at her bookshelves when Leonard reenters her office, feeling uneasy and perhaps a little annoyed. He doesn’t much like this “mysterious time...whatever” act, but something deep-seated is telling him to trust her—and that’s unnerving in and of itself. He never trusts people right off.

“Mr. Snart.” Mary puts down the book she’s holding, nodding to him. “Good morning.”

Leonard doesn’t feel like small talk. He folds his arms. “What do you have to say that Sara couldn’t hear?” he asks a bit harshly.

Mary doesn’t seem upset by his brusqueness. “Oh, nothing she couldn’t hear,” she says with a sigh. “In fact, I rather alluded to it when I spoke with her just now. But she has her focus, and you have yours, and this seemed best at the moment.” As Leonard shows no sign of sitting down, she doesn’t either, simply moving back behind her desk and watching him.

Leonard waits.

Finally, Mary speaks again. “Only one of you—you or Zaman Druce—can come out of this fight for the Oculus,” she says gently. “But...you’ve guessed that, haven't you?”

Leonard doesn’t ask how she knows. “Seemed logical,” he drawls, moving into the room a little more. “The whole ‘neither can live while the other survives’ trope is pretty classic, after all.”

Mary’s eyes sparkle and she tilts her head to him. “Indeed.”

“Plus, seemed like that might be why Druce wants me, when he has his own share of temporal energy from a dip in the timestream anyway.”

“He does—though not as much as you, the man who was at time’s ground zero.” Mary nods at Leonard’s thoughtful hum. “The thing is, while the Time Masters have always thought they’re subtle and know all the ins and outs of time...well, they’re not. And they don’t. Not like Druce wants to think.” She nods at Leonard. “He probably does truly believe he has to kill you, at the Vanishing Point, to release that temporal energy. But it doesn’t have to be that way.”

“I mean, I’m perfectly willing to kill him first, but...” Leonard studies her. “What’s the other way?”

Mary’s eyes are serene. “Meet him at the Vanishing Point,” she says, putting her hands flat on her desk. “Harness the temporal energy in yourself. Bend your will to it. Take the both of you and the wellspring back to the time of the supernova, and into time.”

Leonard dislikes showing surprise in front of this woman, but his eyes widen despite himself. “I can do that?”

“Hypothetically.” Mary’s lips twitch at his reaction. “Yes, Mr. Snart, you can do that. You have the will, and the temporal power all around—and within—you. And once you’re there, in the timestream...you have an advantage Druce does not.”

She smiles. It is not a particularly nice smile.

After a moment, Leonard smiles back.

[cometsweepandleonidsfly]

By Maureen Ryan | Apr 24, 2019 4:08 PM EDT

There are four more episodes to come before Game of Thrones airs its series finale, but I feel confident in stating that we've witnessed the HBO drama's finest hour. For my money, the best episode of the HBO drama is the most recent installment, "A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms." In fact, I think it's valid to compare it to one of the best ever episodes of Mad Men, "The Suitcase."

Both hours were what TV critics pray to see: The culmination of years of work spent getting to know truly specific characters as well as their dilemmas and their emotional lives. And this is one of those times that the larger scale of Game of Thrones worked in its favor.

In "The Suitcase," one of the greatest episodes of any TV show ever, there was a tight and extraordinarily fruitful focus on one relationship. Through a rollercoaster of a day shared by Don Draper (Jon Hamm) and Peggy Olson (Elizabeth Moss), viewers experienced an incredible range psychological states and fraught and funny moments: Friends squabbling and laughing, co-workers commiserating, a stressed boss yelling at an understandably resentful underling, and finally two human beings who've seen each other at their lowest moments and care about each other deeply anyway.

I wouldn't put "A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms" in quite the same category as that classic Mad Men installment, but the fact that the hours have a lot in common is very much a mark in the HBO show's favor. It's also a little surprising. I don't have a long personal list of "Best Game of Thrones Episodes," because the show's often pretty amorphous and sprawling. Given how many places and people a typical episode has to deal with, most episodes — even the good ones — come across as more a collection of stuff than a carefully curated hour with a strong and clear theme. "A Knight of Seven Kingdoms" was different: It absolutely did not feel like one slice of a 10-hour movie. It was its own rich and intimate thing.

Thanks to the show's large ensemble, we saw the episode's ideas about redemption and connection play out among an array of varied characters, most of whom we've come to love or at least like. And like many of the best episodes of TV, "A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms" didn't just tell an involving story with people we care about, it restated and dove deeply into the show's core questions. Are compromise and growth possible? Should good people even bother trying to fight a constant tide of evil? What do you prioritize when presented with conflicting loyalties? Should you just give in to the darkness in your fight to survive, or is it possible to believe in even a battered form of hope?

It's not a spoiler to say that Westeros will not survive as it was, no matter what happens in the enormous battles to come. But by learning as much as they have — by demonstrating that people can change — the episode kept alive the idea that Westeros is worth saving, possibly (though I won't shed a tear for the racist and sexist characters that bite the dust).

Sometimes Game of Thrones is a little too binary for my taste, but in "A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms," it allowed for a middle ground between its "you win or you die" options, which have been best exemplified by sweet, naive Ned Stark (Sean Bean) and heartless, power-obsessed Cersei (Lena Headey). But maybe there's another way: Combine the best qualities of the people around that fireside — Tyrion's (Peter Dinklage) cleverness, Davos' (Liam Cunningham) practicality, Brienne's (Gwendoline Christie) steadfast courage, Tormund's (Kristofer Hivju) unpretentious directness, Podrick's (Daniel Portman) reliable empathy, and Jaime's (Nikolaj Coster-Waldau) ability to disown his previous arrogance and cruelty — and you have a roadmap to what a new Westeros could be. If anyone survives the clash to come, if enough people remember that that true strength is not simply a matter of deploying brute force, maybe there's hope for this benighted land yet.

Of course, Game of Thrones, like Mad Men and so many other prestige dramas before it, is more interested in the redemption of a privileged man than the patience of a put-upon woman. But that doesn't make the Jaime-Brienne relationship, as brought to life by Nikolai Coster-Waldau and Gwendoline Christie, any less fascinating on screen. When the story began, Jaime asked for too much from the world — and got it. Brienne, on the other hand, steeled herself to not want almost anything, but she got even less than that.

But that power dynamic, like so many others in Westeros, has been reversed. Just as Don Draper learned a lot from his former secretary, Jaime realized just being in a room with Brienne was a gift he probably didn't deserve.

In this episode, Jaime (among other formerly swaggering men) was the supplicant. And if rejected, he would have left, or accepted his death. If Sansa (Sophie Turner) had told Theon (Alfie Allen) to leave, he would have. No rage, no tantrums. How weird and yet welcome it was to see their arrogance replaced by humility — and the script by Bryan Cogman strongly indicated that, if Westeros is to survive, that kind of mature, considered behavior should become the norm, not the exception.

Think about how utterly bizarre the episode's central scene would have seemed seven or eight years ago: A Wildling (Tormund) made a suggestion that a Lannister who'd abandoned his noble family endorsed, as another Lannister (one who serves a Targaryen) looked on. Tormund's wild and utterly sensible idea: What if status was determined by an actual meritocracy? Sitting with those who no longer considered themselves his betters, his idea was met with zero resistance. Jaime, the former golden boy of Westeros, proudly knighted a woman — one whom just about everyone dumped on in the early seasons of the show.

By that quiet fireside, we saw how far everyone had traveled — not just geographically. The men and women gathered at Winterfell have begun to learn from each other. A few of them can almost trust each other (at least some of the time). But more than that, many of the characters ��� most of them men — have learned that power unaccompanied by humility is often a toxic force in society. Sam (John Bradley) talked to Jorah Mormont (Iain Glen) about having learned from his father what it was to be a man. Part of what Sam and others have learned is that it's fine to give away what doesn't work for you, whether it's a sword or the idea of that all power must be enforced by constant oppression.

Jaime not only not didn't insult Brienne, he asked if he could serve under her. He opened himself up to rejection and ridicule; he was sincere, which is simply not done in the world of the Lannisters. Jorah made tentative suggestions to Dany (Emilia Clarke), the woman whom every man used to feel free to lecture at length. The Hound (Rory McCann) couldn't tell Arya (Maisie Williams) how much she means to him, but asking her to talk to him was as close as he could ever come.

And then there was Tormund himself. He supplies welcome comic relief (and his devotion to Brienne walks a fine line between funny and creepy). But he — one of the "lowest" people in the original Westeros social order — has never had a problem recognizing the quality of Brienne's fighting or the depth of her character. Jaime could learn a thing or two from men like Tormund and women like Brienne. And Jaime has.

We often laud Game of Thrones' battle episodes, which are undeniably engaging, but this hour was, to me, far more powerful and moving than any explosion or "big death." TV often uses death as a cheap escape hatch, rather than have characters do the hard work that change requires. But the core of "A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms" involved characters displaying their personal growth, their willingness to discard old ways of thinking, and their willingness to be vulnerable and honest.

Tyrion acknowledged his missteps. Jaime apologized to Bran (Isaac Hempstead Wright), knowing full well any words he said would be inadequate. Sansa and Dany aired out differences of opinions without deciding they had to go to war right then and there (they might, but they both know making some kind of deal will be better for their people, if they survive). Theon and Jaime weren't the only ones who wanted to atone for their past mistakes; even Davos tried to help out however he could. If all he could do was serve soup, he'd do it.

And if Jaime had to listen to several characters list just a few of his serious crimes, he'd listen. His face and body language seemed to say that if one of the people confronting him decided to lop off his head, it would be no more than he deserved. You can't change and truly atone until you listen and learn, and that's the path Jaime took. He's a far cry from the entitled, Bran-throwing jerk we met in the first season.

The one person who hasn't changed much is Brienne, who has always expected to be ridiculed, misunderstood, and marginalized, and who tries her best to do the right thing anyway. She's not a perfect person — let your employee have a drink already! — but she's been true to herself from day one. She didn't try to be more like the heedless noblemen of the arrogant Westeros elite. These men, over time, have tried to become more like her.

And the thing that makes Jaime's gratitude toward her an absolute heart-melter is that he knows — he really knows — that he will never deserve her mercy or her friendship. But he's grateful for both.

There are no doubt many memorable scenes and moments to come in the next few weeks. But this kind of thing represents Game of Thrones at its best. When it gets small and leans into everything we've come to know about conflicted characters and what they've been through, those moments are actually huge and enormously moving. As Brienne and Jaime looked at each other while he knighted her, they truly saw each other in their souls (and the whole thing was better than sex, which Game of Thrones often gets wrong anyway). Even in bizarre or terrifying circumstances, connection was possible. "A thing like that," as Pete Campbell might say.

It's hard to know if anything any of us have done in life makes any difference. It's hard to trust people, and it can be excruciating to hope that your openness or willingness to change might lead to a better life and not just pain and embarrassment. It was hard for Brienne to walk over to Jaime and kneel before him. I've re-watched that moment so many times because Christie's performance is simply phenomenal. Brienne wanted to hope Jaime's offer was real, and yet she didn't dare hope. Did she? You can see all of those feelings of doubt, resolve, and pride play over her face. Even as part of her wondered if this was one more cruel joke from a world — and a man — who had once thought of her as a ridiculous nobody, she put her faith in what would happen next. And this time, she was right to hope.

Jaime truly saw her in that moment, and she saw him, just as Tyrion can see his brother clearly, and Sansa perceives the penitent man that has emerged from the wreckage of Theon's life. Peggy put her hand on Don Draper's hand in "The Suitcase" to tell him that she saw him, and that she would stay.

In those moments, those people — in Westeros and on Madison Avenue — were not the sum of their worst actions. They were choosing to reveal themselves to each other, in all their flailing misery and unexpected glory, and thus give their lives meaning, at least until the next disaster.

"We're all going to die," Tormund said. "But at least we're going to die together."

[ellanainthetardis]

We’re plannin for Four today. Amongst other things...

[FF] or [AO3]

42. 9 Weeks

“You don’t seem impatient.” Eileen teased, taking a sip of her smoothie.

Effie sighed, letting her eyes wander around. They were sitting outside the Clarkes’ coffee shop, at one of the few empty tables left. Business was booming, helped in no little part by the nice weather and the genius idea of settling tables and chairs on the sidewalk. It was busy and the boys Eileen and Liam had hired to help were running around almost comically.

They had been talking about the trip to Four ever since Effie had arrived and, truth be told, she was starting to be sick of the subject.

“Well, it is all set.” she said slowly. “So there is no escaping it now.”

She had selfishly hoped, to the last, that they would manage to avoid it. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to go on a trip, she loved traveling and she loved Four, but April was so little still… It would be a challenge to take care of her in a different setting than their house where everything was readily within reach.

She had booked a hotel – and hadn’t listened to Haymitch when he had insisted on something small – one her father had shares in and that would not only cost cheaper than this sort of resorts would normally but that would also come with a guarantee the staff wouldn’t babble about any of them. Annie had offered to host them naturally but with three of them and a baby, Effie had politely declined and didn’t think she had imagined the other woman’s relief.

Katniss, if possible, was even less enthusiastic than she was. The press had been hounding them all like vultures lately, trying to figure out what was going on with Panem’s star-crossed lovers now, and making their lives a living hell. The girl insisted a trip to Four would make it worse. Effie was divided on the issue.

Now that they had gone to all the troubles of securing her the right to travel though, it seemed moot not to take advantage of it. It had been more complicated than Haymitch had expected and no less than Effie had dreaded. When she had phoned Plutarch to inform him they were thinking about taking Katniss to another District, she could almost hear the blood leaving his face and leaving him white as a ghost.

It was unclear for a while if Katniss was still Haymitch’s charge or if her coming of age had put an end to that. It was also unclear if her interdiction of leaving Twelve had now been lifted or not.

She had had the distinct impression that Plutarch was leaning toward not.

In the end, after consulting Doctor Aurelius and after a short conversation between Haymitch and President Paylor, it had been agreed Katniss was a free woman once more. It had also been agreed that Haymitch should make sure nothing went wrong.

Somehow, she wasn’t sure that his promise to make her leave her bow at home had amused Paylor.

“Not looking forward to that train ride, are you?” Eileen chuckled. “I bet if Haymitch had thought about it, he would never have suggested it. So long stuck in a train with a baby…”

“Quite.” she frowned. “Fortunately, I managed to sweet-talk Secretary Heavensbee into letting us borrow a hovercraft on account of Katniss. Why, I had to be creative and I don’t think he really bought it but he was nice enough to oblige. It will only be three hours.”

“Already too long.” her friend commiserated.

She nodded her agreement and brought her cup of iced tea to her lips. “I do intend to treat this as the honeymoon we didn’t have, though. He is warned he’s not allowed to complain.”

Eileen grinned leaning closer and taking a conspiring tone. “Does this mean more lingerie shopping in the future?”

They giggled like young girls. Effie had almost forgotten what it was to have a female friend her own age and she was grateful for Eileen’s presence in her life. It was good to have someone with whom to talk about those things and who wouldn’t run away screaming because they saw Haymitch – or her for that matter – like a parental figure of sort.

“I seem to have exhausted the stock we bought last time.” she grinned.

“Already?” Eileen pouted, sounding almost jealous. “You’re lucky. Between the girls and the shop, Liam and I can’t get five minutes to ourselves.”

“Finding time hasn’t been the easiest thing of late.” Effie admitted but her lips soon stretched in a smile again. “However, the good thing with Haymitch is that a flash of lingerie is enough to make him forget everything that isn’t me.” There was more giggling. She distractedly stirred her iced tea with the straw she hadn’t used. “I don’t think I will find anything new or worthwhile at the shop though. Twelve is seriously lacking in the clothing stores department.” There were two clothes shops, neither of which really had anything good, and, given that she felt the need to replace her entire wardrobe because it wasn’t fitting like it used to, it was problematic. She had ordered some dresses from the city but she disliked having to send them back when they didn’t fit. “I think I will buy some fabrics, rather. I will do a better job myself.”

She had already sewed herself a couple of summer dresses with darling matching outfits for April – which had made Haymitch laugh entirely too much – but with a baby to take care of, it was a slow process. And she had never tried to design lingerie before. It would be a challenge.

“That dress you had the other day, the red one… That was one of yours, right?” Eileen hummed. “I would kill to have one like that.”

Effie brightened. “Oh, nothing easier! I can do one for you. Perhaps not the same cut, we don’t have the same figure, but something similar enough. Just come by the house when we’re back and I will take your measurements.”

Her friend beamed and thanked her profusely even as she assured her there was no need. She was always happy when people liked the clothes she had timidly sketched and put together by herself. That Eileen wanted one was the greatest compliment of all.

They were laughing when Liam approached the table with Fanny in his arms and an apologetic wince. “Sorry, but the little miss is hungry.”

Seeing Fanny in Eileen’s arms made her heart ache. She missed April so fiercely all of a sudden… She tactfully averted her eyes when her friend maneuvered the baby and her scarf so she could feed her without anyone seeing anything. She would never have been as bold as doing that outside but it didn’t bother her. Once upon a time it might have, now… Now she was a mother herself and she understood the need to answer to one’s child immediately.

“Do you still miss breastfeeding?” Eileen asked softly.

Effie finished her drink before clearing her throat. “I am trying not to. We have enough problems without me adding my insecurities to the mix.”

“Haymitch would understand.” her friend chided her gently.

“He does to some extent.” she agreed. “And, truly… April is healthy. That is all that should matter. Isn’t it?”

Eileen studied her with sympathy, sometimes glancing at the baby in her arms, hidden from view for now. “It is. But that doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to feel bad now and then.”

Effie smiled at her and then dismissed that line of conversation with a  wave of her hand. “I should probably go. I still need to swing by the bakery and I have left Haymitch alone with April long enough.”

They exchanged goodbyes and good-wishes for the trip to Four. Effie walked to the bakery quickly, impatient to go home. She didn’t pay attention when she pushed the door, not quite expecting to interrupt anything.

Peeta and Delly bolted apart when the little bell over the door rang.

And Effie stood there frozen, not happy at all with what she was seeing.

The two young people were red in the face and staring at their shoes like children caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

Had they been kissing?

“My apologies.” she said coldly, in a clipped voice that made her now fading Capitol accent come forth. “I did not mean to intrude. I simply wished to check one last time that you would not mind taking care of Snowball.”

“Effie…” Peeta winced.

“I should go.” Delly said, sounding every bit as embarrassed as she should be in Effie’s opinion. “Goodbye, Mrs Abernathy.”

She watched the young woman sneak on the other side of the counter and out the door, all the while squirming under her angry gaze. Good. She liked that she could still make people squirm.

“It’s not what you think.” Peeta sighed before she could say anything.

“Do you take me for a fool?” she hissed.

Peeta crossed his arms and looked everywhere but at her. “Look, Katniss didn’t try to get in touch and now you’re all leaving for Four… What am I supposed to…”

“You broke up with her.” Effie snapped. “What is she supposed to do? Serenade you? Convince you not to sleep with that girl?” She let out a deep frustrated sigh. “I do hope she is worth it. I do hope so for your sake. Because I guarantee you, you are making a mistake.”

“I thought you weren’t going to take a side.” he grumbled.

“I wasn’t. I am not.” she retorted. “But you are being an idiot and I cannot keep my peace about that.”

“We didn’t even kiss.” Peeta muttered. “You came in when…”

She lifted her hand, the authoritative gesture enough to interrupt him. “I am not interested in what you do or not with that girl. Not when I have to comfort Katniss every two days when she cries her heart out about you leaving her.”

“She cries?” Peeta frowned.

And he was sounding far too pleased about that.

She understood he was waiting for a demonstration of love or, at least, a declaration of sort. He wanted Katniss to go the distance. She understood. But Katniss was devastated and unable to face another abandonment. This was all going too far.

Effie pursed her lips, shook her head and turned to leave the bakery, not trusting herself to not say things she wouldn’t mean.

She was so angry.

She knew it wasn’t her place to intervene. The children had to live their own lives, make their own choices and mistakes. They were young, that was the thing.

She had been seventeen when she had met her first serious boyfriend and it had been marvelous for a while but then it had gone to hell. He hadn’t been the love of her life despite what she had convinced herself of.

There had been other men after that, other relationships she had invested herself in only to see them crumble to dust.

She had been twenty-two when she had met Haymitch.

She had been twenty-nine when she had realized she had feelings for him that were more than lust.

She had been thirty-five when they had agreed they should give it a shot even if it was long distance.

She had been thirty-seven by the time they actually got around to live together and have a normal relationship – as normal as they could be anyway.

For love to endure, it took time.

The children had jumped into their own relationship after entirely too much trauma and had clung to each other in a codependency that she had no place to judge given her own need to have Haymitch near but that couldn’t be as bearable for young people as it was for someone her age. As for figuring out what was true and what was false in their personal history between the star-crossed lovers act and what the Capitol had done to Peeta…

It wasn’t her place to intervene.

But, damn, did she want to.

Sit them down and lecture, perhaps.

Or…

She didn’t see the man and the huge box he was carrying and she collided into him with enough strength that they both found themselves sitting on a pavement.

“Oh, my! I am so sorry!” she exclaimed, her eyes darting from the man to the open truck full of boxes and the house’s open door a few feet away. Newcomer moving in.

“No harm done.” the man promised, getting back on his feet and outstretching a hand for her. “I wasn’t looking.”

She thanked him with a smile once she was back upright and opened her mouth to welcome him to the neighborhood when a little girl called out from the other side of the street. “Are you okay, Mrs Abernathy?”

She vaguely recognized the girl as one who lived a few houses over from theirs in the Village. There were two other children with her and they were staring at Effie as if they weren’t sure how she would react. They looked ready to flee a very nasty witch.

“Absolutely. Thank you…” She racked her brain and made a valiant but uncertain attempt. “Gerta.”

The little girl beamed, waved and turned back to her friends who were whispering with awe at her supposed bravery to address Effie Trinket.

It saddened her that children still feared her so.

But there was nothing to be done, she supposed.

She turned back to the man in front of her, intending to finish her greetings, but the words died on her lips. The stranger’s face had closed off.

“Abernathy?” he repeated coldly.

And she had been having such a nice day with Eileen.

She didn’t even try to discuss it. She forced a bright fake smile on her lips and sidestepped the man. “Have a nice day.”

“It’s sickening what you got away with.” the stranger called after her and, despite her best intentions, she flinched.

She wished she had taken Snowball with her.

The man had already gone back to unloading his boxes and wasn’t paying her attention anymore but she felt scared and small and defenseless all the same. Her mind flashed back to Clay and his promise to make her pay and… She took a deep breath and hurried along the street, only relaxing a little when she spotted the slope that went up to the Village.

All those people who hated her, who thought she had gotten away…

Would they change their mind if they knew what had really happened to her? She had tried really hard not to think about her parents’ sudden but expected curiosity for the war. She wasn’t sure she could handle it. Her mother going to lectures to try and understand… Her father questioning Haymitch…

The knowledge that her father now knew was hard to bear. It was shameful somehow. She knew both he and Haymitch would have had something to say about that particular feeling but to her it was. It was too private to be shared. Even with her parents. Even with Haymitch sometimes.

She truly admired that man who was speaking out publicly and trying to bring attention to the fact some Capitols had been hurt during the war too. She really did. If only she was half as brave…

But it was a different situation.

She had never been a rebel, not outwardly at least, and she had been an escort.

A monster.

She swallowed hard and chased the word out of her mind.

We are who we are.

Snowball’s barking and the honking of the geese made her blink and she realized she was home a heartbeat too late. Her mind had wandered and her body had taken over.

She fumbled with the keys. Her fingers were shaking a little.

The dog must have been in the backyard because he didn’t rush to greet her. She followed the noises to the living-room and couldn’t help a smile when she spotted Haymitch sitting on the floor. April was on her back on the padded baby playing mat with yellow plastic arcs from which were dangling toys; she was letting out those delightful little chirping noises that sounded so much like laugher, her arms were reaching out as if she was trying to catch the giraffe-shaped rattle Haymitch was shaking above her head.

He glanced at Effie over his shoulder with an amazed look. “Here’s Mama. Be a good girl, now, sweetheart… Mama’s here to watch… Come on…”

“What happened?” she asked, almost in dismay. “What did I miss?”

She had missed it the first time April had managed to grab her ragdoll. Of course, she could only hold it for a couple of seconds, she lacked the strength to do otherwise, but it was always so precious when she grabbed her toys or stuffed animals, even for a short moment… Effie had been in the kitchen fixing her bottle and she had missed it.

“Nothing yet.” he smirked. “I think she was trying to roll on her side earlier.”

“By herself?” she exclaimed, excited. She joined him on the floor and sat on April’s other side, so proud she thought she would burst. She had noticed their daughter was trying more and more to lift her head when she was on her stomach and she was certain she would start crawling in a couple of weeks. But she had never rolled on her side by herself yet. “Should I grab the camera do you think?”

Haymitch shrugged his ignorance, making sure to keep April entertained by shaking the rattle. He was trying to coax her to the side, she figured.

After long minutes, he grew tired and placed the rattle down with a sigh. “Next time.”

“She’s growing up so fast.” Effie lamented, watching the baby suck on her tiny fist, drooling everywhere.

“We still have some time before she leaves the house for college.” he snorted.

“She’s almost three months old. Have you seen those weeks go by? I am telling you, she will be eighteen tomorrow and we won’t even realize.” she argued with a pout, reaching out so April would wrap her free hand around her finger. “Mama missed you very much, my darling. I am never leaving you for that long again.”

“You were gone two hours.” Haymitch chuckled. “Someone’s feeling dramatic today.”

Her pout deepened. She toyed with the idea of telling him about the newcomer but she decided against it. The man hadn’t been threatening. He hadn’t even insulted her or spat at her feet… Of course, he hadn’t exactly been nice either – or even polite – but… It was better than some of the things she had to content with in the District and, truth be told, it wasn’t the worst she could expect. People resented her presence and they had their reasons. It made her grateful for the ones who had chosen to actually look further than just her past as an escort and had welcomed her in Twelve.

“Where’s Katniss?” she asked. It wouldn’t do to be careless. The girl was around their house more often than not lately. Effie was now really thinking about remodeling the study into a guest room after all because the girl couldn’t keep sleeping on the couch. If this was to go on, she would prefer it if Katniss had her own space.

“Hunting.” he shrugged. “Sae needed some fresh meat.”

“Good.” she sighed, her annoyance coming back full force now that she was sure the girl wouldn’t accidentally overhear something that she didn’t particular want her to eavesdrop on. “I walked in on what would have been Peeta and that Cartwright girl’s first kiss. And I am not sorry I interrupted them, let me tell you.”

Haymitch rolled his eyes. “The boy was always the easy one. What the fuck is he doing making our life difficult now?”

Perhaps it was a sort of acting out, she mused. They had always been more focused on the girl because she was problematic and her rash actions made her a danger not only to herself but to all of them. And now there was April and Peeta had always been so self-reliant that they hadn’t been paying the boy much attention at all.

And perhaps it had nothing to do with them altogether and she was just being self-centered…

“Language.” she rebuked in an automatic response. “It is good we are taking Katniss away. I am starting to fear… This might not be an easy fix.”

“Yeah.” he agreed with a sigh. His gaze lingered on April and then came back on her. “You had fun with Eileen?”

She welcomed the change of topic with a grin. “Why, yes. We talked about buying more lingerie.”

“Is that so?” he smirked.

“Why?” she purred, batting her eyelashes. “Do you object to that?”

“Time for April’s nap, yeah?” he countered. “Can show you what I think about it…”

“Show me?” she teased, biting down on her bottom lip. “I did not know you cared to go over my wardrobe with me…”

She had missed the flirting and the teasing and she reveled in the way he was still looking at her. In the books, they warned going back to a normal sexual life could be a challenge for some couples. It was a field where they had never met a challenge in their life. She had feared he would treat her differently now but it had been unfounded.

“I’ve got a few id…” he started, a twinkle in his eyes only to stop and point at their daughter with an entirely different form of enthusiasm. “Look! She’s doing it again.”

And April was, in fact, trying to roll on her side.

“Should we help her?” Effie suggested, reaching out and letting her hands hover just in case the baby needed her. Not that their daughter could hurt herself but… “Show her how to do it?”

“She’s figuring it out.” he denied. “Look.”

It took a few more minutes before April managed to roll from her back to her side. Effie clapped with pride, her sight blurred by stupid tears. Haymitch wasn’t faring any better: looking at him and hearing the praises he was bestowing on the baby, you would have thought she had just climbed a mountain.

“She is so smart.” she whispered, unable to resist the urge to pick her up and cuddle her. Haymitch shifted, resting his back against the couch and she leaned against his chest without a second thought, completely relaxing once he wrapped his arms around the two of them. “So, so smart… You are going to be a genius when you grow up, my darling. You will do great things, I just feel it.”

She felt Haymitch’s lips against her hair.

“My girls are made for greatness.” he said very seriously.

She burrowed into his warmth and let everything that wasn’t this wash away.

Everything else didn’t matter.

Not when she had him and their baby safe and near.

[harritudur]

rpf . jodie comer/jacob collins-levy . 3 155 words . rating M

note: as I promised, here my Jodie x Jacob smut. I tried to not turn this into a gratuitous smutty fic and so, I decided to add some fluff as well lol :) For @thefairfleming​ who gave me the courage to write and to post this shit fic (again, i apologize for the typos and my bad english)

-

Jodie couldn’t remember why she had ever thought it would be a good idea to start in the first place. Sometimes she blamed it on drink, on the nice French Rosé. And then, the annoying voice in the back of her head that sounded a little like her Mum telling her to stop being such a naive fool. She should have been enough of an adult to admit to her mistakes.

The thing was, she couldn’t find it in herself to stop.

-

Two weeks before, Jodie’s computer began to ring with the sounds of a Skype call from Jacob. Her former co-star whom she hadn’t made the least attempt to contact when she was still in the UK and he, in L.A. -or Australia maybe? They were not been in touch often recently. “Hello, Miss Comer,” he said, and then checked his watch. “It’s almost 7pm in L.A.! What are you doing up at such an ungodly hour?” “Working!” she replied proudly, showing to the camera the recent script she received for a new play in London. “What about you?” “Well, I am keep selling my soul in Hollywood for the sake of my career”. There was a hint of something in his voice that she can’t decipher, and yet it made her nervous. "I heard you were in the US recently and you didn’t even call me?” “Well, I wasn’t technically in the US,” Jodie said, taking a sip of her nocturnal tea. (British habits die hard) “I was in New York.” “East coast superiority problem,” he snorted, and he got this unreadable expression on his face. “How is England?” “Damp. And lovely,” she said, smiling brightly. “I will be there soon. To visit my father’s side of the family. It’s been a while… Can I come visit you at some point as well?” Jodie was slightly taken aback. He’d never asked if he could come visit. They’d been mostly cut off from each other since he’d gone to Los Angeles. “Yeah, Jake. Sure. If you felt like it.” “I will,” he said. “You mark my words, I will.”

-

To be honest, she wasn’t expecting him to show up. But, Jacob had always been hyperactive, a touch unpredictable and adventurous (she liked to call him Crocodile Dundee on set, just for the tease), so she was only about sixty percent surprised when he called her from Heathrow. “Jodz,” he said, “why aren’t you here to pick me up?” “Probably because you didn’t tell me you were coming! But I’ll come now.” She grabbed her keys and ran out the door before she could even think about what she was doing. Luckily for him, she moved to London the last week –a better decision for her career. “Finally,” Jacob said as she burst through the door at the airport, scrubbing a hand through his hair like he had just woken up from a long nap. “Finally, she shows up.” “Do you have any idea how far Heathrow is from London, Jacob!” Jodie said, trying to ignore the conspicuous lump in her throat and the way her heart rate sped up a little when he stepped forward and gave her a massive bear hug. “Missed you, Jodz,” he whispered in her ear, and suddenly, yup, there they all were, all those crazy feelings that she hadn’t let herself express for all those months she’d co-starred with him. “Missed you too, Jacob,” she said, and now she regretted not calling him while she was in the US.

-

True to form, he had no interest in actually sitting down for a proper meal, so they managed to navigate the interminable Tube of London for some takeaway Indian food that didn’t look like it would give them food poisoning. They sat on the floor in Jodie’s flat she just rented, cardboard boxes everywhere (and Jacob couldn’t believe how much of an improvement it was over any flat for a comparable -or even more expensive- price in Los Angeles) and chewed down. Just like old times in their trailers.

She brought out from her fridge a bottle of cheap French Rosé and they’d swapped stories about friends, family, one-night stands. He’d let her listen to a few songs on his ipod. She’d teased him about his Californian tan. She’d talked about Glastonbury Festival. He’d regretted to not have been there with her. They’d drunk the bottle dry.

Jodie hadn’t felt much nostalgia or sadness for her many former co-stars, realizing she’d gone off and lost touch with many of them. And more important, she’d had the possibility to meet them in London when she wished to. But now, she was nostalgic and sad -she didn’t know how much she missed him and how much she hated suddenly the Atlantic & the Pacific Oceans (and the Indian one too!). Jodie wasn’t aware that Jacob had been staring at her the whole time as she looked contemplatively in to her rice. “Jodz,” he said, “are you okay?” She exhaled, and looked back up at him. “Yeah, I’m alright. Just… missing the old days, you know?” There was a beat of silence. He smiled wistfully, which was an ability Jodie didn’t believe that people could develop before the age of thirty. “Yeah,” he said. “Me too. That’s why I’m here, I suppose.” “So you came all this way to sit on my floor and eat curry with me, and I suppose you’re flying back tomorrow in time for… your family right? Or an audition maybe? An event? Or a romantic dinner with whoever you are hooking up with?” The twinge of bitterness that Jodie heard in her voice was unintended, and she almost apologized to him right there. He laughed, harsh and bitter, like she’d never heard him laugh before. “God, we’ve been out of touch, haven’t we Jodie? No one is waiting for me in my cold cold bed.” “I’m sorry…” and instinctively, she reached out for him and grabbed his hand. Jacob sighed. “I miss you.” “Same, Jake.” “You’ve done an awful good job of hiding it.” “Oh come on,” Jodie said, reeling. “We’ve both been busy. I’ve been doing auditions and some new projects are in the coming. I’m an actress. It’s my job! I could say the same about you.” “I just thought… I just thought we were…” Jacob said, struggling to finish. Never once in her life, she had seen him at such a loss for words. If it weren’t for the emotional gravitas that she suspected the situation deserved, she would have whipped out her phone and taken a video. “Friends?” Jodie supplied, trying her best to be helpful. “Friends?” Jacob practically yelled back at her, his hands shaking. “Oh, sod it.” He got up and made his way towards the door. “Jacob,” she said, popping up and running after him, stopping him just short of her front entranceway, “what the hell?” “Friends, huh Jodie? Right, because I’m going to fly all the way across the goddamn Oceans for someone who I like as a friend. I don’t understand how you could possibly be so thick!” Quieter, he continued, his sharp blue eyes on her. “Did you really just want to be friends this whole time?”

A pause.

“No…” Jodie just managed, and finally, here, she was being perfectly honest; she was addressing the feelings that Jacob gave her, and everything that she missed about the last year and him most of all. “No, I didn’t not want to be just friends, but I felt that our hands were a little tied. There was this whole unspoken rule about not dating your co-star, and I had commitments in the UK and you had your life in Australia and then… then I just wasn’t around anymore, and you deserve more than a girlfriend half a world away, and you deserve to have a great career as well, and… it’s like life just kept getting in the way. Bad timing or whatever it is. But, yeah, the way I dreamed about you or us or… the things I managed to think up… it was just, you know? Just a dream…”

Based on the look Jacob was giving her at this exact second, Jodie could’t decide if he was going to kiss her, or storm out her flat door. But the next thing she knew he is crushing himself against her, arms wrapped around her waist and lips against hers. She felt his tongue prodding her lips, and she opened her mouth to him and mentally fist-pumped, and then shivered when he ran his tongue across hers and gently slipped his fingers under the hem of her t-shirt. The feeling of his fingers on her skin made her mind spin with anticipation. He pulled away, looked at her kind of funny, and said, “Is someone else dropping by tonight?” What? Oh yes, we are in London, she realized, and a Saturday night, and I have friends in the city. “No. No Jake… there’s not anyone coming, if that’s what you’re implying…” “Good,” he whispered, “because I am taking you to bed and we are not leaving there for a while.” “Oh,” Jodie said, and hoped that she wasn’t making too much of a dopey happy face. Then she was the one kissing him. An impulsive action –and she thought that she still had some part of Lizzie in her head when she did it. They had kissed so many times before. But this, this felt different from the working-friendly snogs they had shared in front of the crew ~for the job. The kiss tasted of darkness and the metallic hint of danger and excitement. It tasted new. She’d say that the drink had made her just the slightest bit reckless, but it wasn’t true. Not entirely.

She walked him back through her rented apartment. He stopped her somewhere in the middle of her living room not far away from their abandoned dinner (waste of good Indian food, she thought) and kissed her again, and something about how his hands were once again under her shirt and rubbing against her low back made her knees go conspicuously weak. Jacob took advantage of that and subsequently picked her up and carried her bridal style to her bedroom. She tossed her head back and laughed and was still laughing when he placed her down on her bed. “You literally cannot be serious about anything for more than five minutes,” she said as he climbed over her. “You’re about to be proved very, very wrong,” Jacob said, and Jodie had a snarky response forming in her head that died on her lips as soon as he kissed her again. And suddenly getting his shirt off was very high on her list of priorities. She gave up on the buttons and just ripped it, then mentally reminded herself to help him sew those buttons back on if they ever got out of bed.

He didn’t seem to care, but there he was, bare-chest, on top of her, with his lips on her neck and she moaned embarrassingly loud. She could feel him smiling against her skin, the bastard. She sat up briefly to aid Jacob in getting her shirt off, and her bra, and then he laid her back down and relieved her of her jeans and knickers. Not to be outdone, she started undoing his belt but he pushed her back on the mattress and settled over her, kissing a trail down her body. He slipped off the edge of the bed to kneel, kissed the inside of her thighs, and positioned his face between her legs. He looked up at her and opened his mouth to ask a question. She somehow (because she had no idea on how her brain would actually been working) intuited what he was about to ask.

“God yes,” half-spoken, half-moaned.

About a second later her head was thrown back as she felt pleasure course through her body as his tongue rolled against her clit. This simple motion made her gasp out loud. The sound seemed to please him, and he growled low in his throat before attacking her with tongue and lips and gentle teeth, until Jodie was biting her lips and forcing herself not to wrap her thighs around his head. One, then two fingers entered her and she literally gasped as they curled inside her. She dug her heel in to Jacob’s back accidentally, and as soon as he reached up and replaced her hand on her nipple with his she involuntarily pushed harder in to his back with her heel. That was probably going to leave a little bruise, she thought, but he didn’t seem to stop or mind, even when she threaded her hand in his hair. He started focusing intently on her nub, and next thing she knew she was arching off the bed and coming around his fingers. Pulling them from her body, he climbed up over her on the bed.  

Jodie wanted to move, to drag him down on her, to taste his lips once more and herself at the same time, and to return him the favor. But instead she watched him strip as he kept a safe distance between them. A part of her wanted to help, to shorten the torture, and to get rid of that satisfied smirk on his face –yet, another part wanted to enjoy the show, to savor each new glimpse of his skin and to memorize them for her lonely nights. But the impatience that curled in her low belly was hard to tame. Socks and shoes, then the belt and jeans followed, kicked off and the boxers flew somewhere and then he was naked, finally.

“Jodie,” he breathed looking down at her. Fuck! her name sounded so good on his tongue. His voice was broken, his Australian accent more marked, and his eyes were darker than anything she’d ever seen; she just wanted to kiss him absolutely senseless, “…do you have anything?”

Oh, that. How unfair that he should ask her where anything (especially something so infrequently used by her nowadays) was in her post-orgasmic haze. “Ummm,” she said to help, and flailed in the general direction of a cardboard-box by her nightstand. In vain. “One second,” Jacob said, and quickly dashed out of the bedroom, which at once was one of the most hilarious and sexy things that she’d possibly ever seen. She really hoped he didn’t trip over anything because she was not doing first aid on his naked… anything. She heard his suitcase unzip and zip and he came back with a fistful of condoms, swaggering triumphantly. “Bloody Hell,” she said, as he deposited all but one on the nightstand, “You totally planned this whole thing.” “The possibility crossed my mind,” Jacob replied. “Allow me,” Jodie said, with a wicked smile, and pushed him back so he was lying on the bed. She ripped the foil open with her teeth, tossed it aside, and rolled the condom on, never taking her eyes off of him. There was something extremely gratifying about the way that his head lolled back and his mouth fell open. Deciding that she relished the sensation of being in control, she straddled him and sunk on to him as slow as she could possibly manage. “God, Jodz… Jodie,” he sputtered out, “just do it already.” His hands moved to her hips and tightened. “Don’t know why you think this is any easier for me Jacob,” she sputtered out, but put on a veil of crazy confident feminine guile and started rolling her hips very slowly. She bit her lip hard, and looked down at Jacob whose pupils were blown out and just looked absolutely wrecked. His thumb found her clit and started rubbing it gently, and then harder, and then right when she was about to come, thanks Jacob, he rolled them over and started thrusting in to her. It was sinfully good to feel his skin against hers. She wanted everything, wanted to lose herself in the warmth of his skin, the taste of his lips, and to pretend that the world outside her flat didn’t exist. That they weren’t betraying any social convention for coworkers –or acquaintances? –or friends? Really? He was gentle, at first, one hand pressing her right wrist into the mattress, the other wrapped around her hip as he thrusts into her. Again and again and again and then he started to lose some of his control, and the hand around her wrist pushes down harder. It felt so good. They felt so good, fitted so well together and moved so in time with each other. Heat built in her and she could feel the rest of the world fading away into the background, and she wanted to close her eyes because there would be sparks behind her eyelids, but he wouldn’t let her out of his gaze. Just as she didn’t want to stop looking at the blue of his eyes. Jacob pulled almost all the way out of her and thrust into her again, deliberate and slow this time, and Jodie could feel the crest of her climax rising to meet his and she chased it eagerly, rocking her hips back against his. Maybe she was a little out of line, but the look on Jacob’s face told her she was doing something extremely pleasing. She buried her flushed face in the crock of his neck and bit down into the pale, pristine flesh of his shoulders and marked it hers. A low moan from him. And then, his hand at her hip loosened its grip and cupped her face instead and suddenly he was kissing her, all sweet tenderness and heat. Jodie kissed him back hungrily, whining into his mouth. So close. She was so damned close– “Let go,” he said against her lips, after pulling his mouth away from hers. “…you’re beautiful like this. So beautiful.” His accent, music to her ears. Then suddenly he was just hitting the spot, and then she was arching off the bed and seeing stars, and she was just barely aware of his hips stuttering and then giving one final prodigious thrust and collapsing on top of her. They just lay there like that for an indeterminate amount of time (Jodie wasn’t going to be counting anything, she knew that much) until he rolled off of her and dealt with the condom. She was still lying on her back when he got back to bed and he curled up beside her.

Taking this as her cue, she wound her arms around him, pulled him against her, felt his breath on her neck and shivered with post-orgasmic delight. He pressed a kiss to her collarbone, then to her neck, making her giggle, and then he kissed her so gently she could almost cry. Jodie wished there was more to this, more than just her London flat and previous stolen moments in trailers. More time. More of him. Her fingers ran through his messy hair and pulled him closer for another kiss. And then another, until she felt him stirring against her again.

“Fuck,” she stated as her hand moved down his body to cup the curve of his arse. “We’re screwed now, aren’t we?”

He didn’t even try to argue this statement. His hands cupped her face and before she could breathe he kissed her. “Oh yes, we are.”

For the first time in a long time, Jodie felt whole.

-

His return ticket had been booked for the next weekend, but he managed to worm his way out of further events and auditions (“My new agent will kill me later” he jested) so that he could stay two weeks. One morning, he disappeared for two hours, but re-appeared with red and white roses so she forgave him the minor heart attack. “Seriously? Jake?,” the reference obvious, but she accepted them anyway. He disappeared as well an whole day, but she knew it was to see an aunt or an uncle in Essex. Easy to forgive.

Later that month, she followed Jacob back to L.A. (“For work!” she had claimed to her friends who were not buying this shit). He was there, of course, waiting at the airport, and he took her to his flat without any questions. Unexpectedly, there was an extra chest of drawers waiting for her. “Thanks. It would make things easier,” she said in a smile. “I’m looking forward to this.” “Me too,” he said, and kissed her.

It was Jacob’s phone ringing that woke them, and Jodie blinked, the California sun already shining through the window. She didn’t realized she was so tired. The Hollywood way of life -and other private exertions. She was vaguely aware of Jacob groaning, his arms unwrapping from her as he stretched to pick up his phone. She turned back, spooning around him and scattering kisses over his shoulders and neck as he talked. “Hello? Oh, Emma, good morning. Yes, yes, I’m fine. I don’t know, we haven’t… Okay. Yes. Yes, she’s still here.” Jodie frowned. Even though she only heard half of the conversation, she knew he was talking about her. Telling Emma she had stayed the night might not be a good idea. “I’ll tell her. Yes. Thank you. Bye.” He hung up after this little talk and placed the phone back on his bedside table, before turning back and wrapping his arms around her. “Hello.” He kissed her nose and she couldn’t help but smile. “Hello. Hmm, what did Emma want?” “Oh, nothing, just be sure everything was alright. She is planning a dinner this week so, we could go? And she says hello.” “Jacob…” She tried to be serious but it was difficult with his hands on her hips, just upon her ticklish spot. “Why did you tell her I was here?” “It’s true, isn’t it?” “I’m not sure she had to know…” “Oh. She already knew.” “What?” He shrugged. “Said it was obvious and that we should have realized before.” Jodie turned pale, her blood freezing as she wondered what she meant by obvious, and who else knew. And then she remembered the many smiles and teasing and eye-rolling from her friends. Was the great actress Jodie Comer so easy to read? “Are you okay?” he cupped her face and brushed her cheeks gently, eyes full of affection. Oh shit. She was in love with this man -maybe she hadn’t realized it all quite yet. Or maybe she had, and this sudden understanding was like letting out a breath Jodie didn’t know she was holding since months. “More than okay,” she sighed, and let him kiss her, and more.

- -