#she was so disrespected throughout the entire series

[tangledmovielove]

Why I Can’t Stand Tangled: The Series Rapunzel – She’s the Complete Opposite of the Character I Loved

I loved Rapunzel in Tangled—she was brave, kind, and selfless. But the Rapunzel in Tangled: The Series feels so unlike her movie counterpart that I can’t stand her character in this show.

In the movie, Rapunzel was a character who would do anything for Flynn. She was willing to sacrifice her freedom, her life, and everything she knew because of her love for him. Their relationship was about mutual trust, loyalty, and deep selflessness. But in Tangled: The Series, Rapunzel is almost unrecognizable. She comes across as self-centered, indecisive, and constantly dismisses Flynn’s feelings and opinions. Her behavior feels so out of character that it’s hard to see her as the same person.

One of the most frustrating things is the way she allows others—especially Cassandra—to insult and belittle Flynn. He’s constantly made the butt of jokes and treated poorly by those around him, and Rapunzel rarely, if ever, stands up for him. In fact, when he speaks up for himself, she often sides against him! Flynn has a mind of his own, but in the series, Rapunzel seems to dismiss his opinions and needs as if they don’t matter. The Rapunzel from the movie would never treat him this way.

The Marriage Rejection: A Major Betrayal One of the biggest disappointments is Rapunzel’s reaction to Flynn’s marriage proposal. In the movie, she loved him so much that she was willing to give up everything for him. She even offered to stay locked in the tower forever just to save his life. But in the series, she rejects his proposal, acting as if marriage is somehow a prison for her. This not only feels out of character, but it’s also insulting to Flynn, who’s putting his heart on the line only to have her brush him off. It sends a terrible message, suggesting that true love isn’t enough for her unless it’s always on her terms.

What makes this rejection feel even worse is that it’s not even based on any logical reason. They’ve known each other for months, and considering the historical time period, marriage would be the natural next step. And yet, Rapunzel hesitates, as if she’s constantly questioning her love for Flynn. For a character who was willing to give up everything for him in the movie, this lack of commitment is a complete betrayal of who Rapunzel was supposed to be.

The Constant Manipulation and Lack of Accountability Throughout the series, Rapunzel hides secrets from Flynn, manipulates situations, and uses time travel to “fix” Flynn’s personality when he dares to disagree with her. This kind of behavior is controlling and unfair, but she never seems to feel guilty or take responsibility. She even draws his face on a punching bag to please Cassandra, never apologizing or showing concern for how hurtful that could be to someone she supposedly loves.

By the end of the series, it feels like everything always has to go her way, while Flynn’s needs and feelings are constantly ignored or trampled over. Rapunzel’s treatment of him is selfish and dismissive, as if she only cares about him when it’s convenient for her. This kind of behavior feels toxic, and it’s not the love story I remember from the movie.

The Hypocrisy of Tangled: The Series Rapunzel The Rapunzel in the series is not the fairytale character she was meant to be. She’s the opposite of the girl from the movie who was ready to sacrifice everything for love and freedom. Her behavior is hypocritical: she rejects Flynn’s love and commitment, takes him for granted, and constantly lets others disrespect him. If anything, the series’ version of Rapunzel treats Flynn more like a sidekick who’s there to serve her than a partner she truly cares about.

The movie’s Rapunzel was kind, selfless, and full of love. But the series’ version seems like someone else entirely—self-centered, ungrateful, and unwilling to compromise.

For me, this isn’t Rapunzel at all. It’s a poor rewrite of the character, turning her into someone who acts selfishly and constantly overlooks the love of someone who’s been nothing but supportive and devoted. This series doesn’t deserve to be canon, and I’ll always remember the real Rapunzel as the one from the movie who knew the true meaning of love and selflessness.

rapunzel is an absolute piece of shit. anyone who likes her is questionable x.

[smogpool]

ITS LEAFPOOL!! She’s my absolute favorite character. I love her so much. Number 1 Leafpool fan

[plutotheplum]

Keep My Hand in Yours

emperor!zayne x concubine!reader - read part 1!

summary: the emperor is intent on convincing you that you are worthy enough to be his empress.

cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, smut, fluff, oral sex, vaginal fingering, p in v, praise kink, throne sex, spanking

wc: 6.9k

a/n: part 2 is finally here! thank you for all the sweet comments, i cherish them all!! <3 umm... i do plan on adding some more parts to this series... so yeah, i hope you enjoy! :)

also on ao3!

“She is not with child.”

Zayne’s stern voice cuts through the chatter of his advisors, his fingers tapping against the arm of his throne irritatedly. The drone of voices silences, his advisors lowering their heads in respect.

You stand off to the side, playing with the sleeves of your robes nervously. Perhaps you’d been a little naive to think the advisors would have been accepting of your blossoming relationship with the Emperor. 

Word had spread throughout the palace, and most likely throughout the entire Empire about the new developments that had taken place overnight. The guards had heard you of course, their eyes averted and cheeks flushed pink when Zayne had held your hand and led you out of his chambers.

An unforeseen turn in events, and you had somehow excelled past the advisors’ expectations, garnering the Emperor’s affection for you. Whilst a small number of the Emperor’s advisors were pleased, the majority were not. Standing before them, you can see the disdain on their faces, the hatred that belies their thin smiles. Jealousy is above all however, for their own daughters were once placed forth as noble matches for the Emperor. 

You jolt out of your thoughts when an Imperial guard takes your arm, moving you to stand before the Emperor. Zayne looks down at you, and you can spy the slight softening of his eyes as he watches you bow to him.

“As I have said,” Zayne repeats, “she is not with child.”

“Forgive me, your majesty,” a voice speaks out from behind you, “how can she not be with child? We- we have heard of what occurred.”

Zayne motions for you to spin around, and you do as he wants. You now face his entire court, advisors gathered in hours of the early morning. It was the grand chancellor who spoke, a tall man, his face gaunt. You remember he had served Zayne’s father before he had passed.

“We are both not ready for children,” Zayne explains, “I had the palace physician brew a tea under my command.”

It was true. You had both spoken about the matter, and you simply could not handle carrying a child so soon. Zayne had agreed, snuck you out through the passages in the middle of the night, and had taken you to the palace physician. The brewing of such teas was not unheard of, but certainly not an accepted occurrence, although perhaps more commonly used among the nobility.

“I see…” the grand chancellor says slowly, his gaze fixating on you.

You want to shrink away, somehow hide behind the safety of the Emperor, but you cannot. Instead, you shift on the spot, averting your gaze to the floor as though you were not the very object of interest of this gathering.

“And you intend to continue this foolish endeavor?” 

Your head snaps up at the harsh words, gaze settling on the new voice that had spoken out. A lower ranking official judging by the coloring of his robes, his eyes narrowing as he stares at you.

“It appears you forget yourself,” the Emperor replies coolly. 

“Or perhaps you forget yourself, your majesty,” the official spits, stepping forward, “you would ruin the image of your rule to marry some… some lowly concubine?”

The murmurs of the other members of court are hard to ignore, hushed whispers breaking out at the official’s blatant show of disrespect towards the Emperor.

“And was it not this very court that decided to gather concubines without my knowledge?”

“For child bearing!” the official hisses, pointing his finger towards you accusingly, “not for marriage!”

You swallow harshly at the viciousness of his words, biting back the insults that threaten to spill out. Retaliation in such a meeting would only support the official’s cause. 

“She will be your Empress,” Zayne says calmly, “if you seek to insult my future wife yet again, I will have you removed immediately.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks when he affirms that you’ll be his wife. It may not be the best time, but the light flush covers your cheeks and you try to stop the pull of your lips, a smile threatening to spread across your face.

“If you think I- we will stand for such insolence, you are sorely mistaken, your majesty” the official snarls.

A bitter laugh echoes through the throne room. 

“Be grateful that I am not my father,” Zayne murmurs, “for he would have had your head. Remove your seal.”

The official sputters, looking around at the rest of the court members wildly. Most avoid his eyes, others unconsciously touching their own seals through the fabric of their robes.

You flinch when the official removes his Imperial seal angrily, tossing the little silver square at your feet.

“You have poisoned his mind,” he accuses heatedly, face reddened from his outburst, “and you should do well to remember your station.”

Irritation pricks at your skin, your teeth gritting together. You were well aware of your station, of your status and how you’re perceived. The incessant reminders aren’t doing well to calm your frayed nerves, brows pulling together as you glare at the official. 

“Bow to her.”

The rules of nobility have been set in place for longer than you could possibly know, and yet Zayne seems insistent on breaking them. It’s bold, even for him, to demand such a thing. You turn, shooting him a look, subtly shaking your head. There’s a hint of a smile on the Emperor’s face, as though enjoying this confrontation.

“I- I will do no such thing!” the official protests.

“You have already lost your seal and your position and you still will not do as I say?” Zayne murmurs, leaning forward in his throne.

You watch with wide eyes when the official does bow to you, the upper half of his body lowering. Another round of hushed whispers passes through the room, and you can feel the grand chancellor’s eyes boring into you. His authority was only second to the Emperor, the only man who held a real chance of changing Zayne’s mind.

“Good,” Zayne says, leaning back on his throne, “now leave us.”

The throne room clears out immediately, until you’re the only one remaining. You smile at him, stepping between his legs until you’re standing in front of him.

“I did not take you for a tyrant,” you tease, brushing his hair out of his face.

“And I did not know that protecting my future wife made me a tyrant,” Zayne muses, his arms wrapping around your waist.

He tugs you closer, his head falling forward to rest against your stomach, face burying itself in your robes. A soft sigh leaves you, fingers running through his loose hair, scratching at his scalp lightly.

“Tired?” you ask, arm wrapping around his neck.

The Emperor nods against your stomach, trying to press his face deeper. A laugh escapes you at his needy behavior, your hand managing to cup his jaw to bring him out of his hiding place. 

“The affairs of state have become bothersome,” Zayne says, peering up at you.

“Oh? You did not seem to mind before.”

“Playing coy?” Zayne smiles faintly, tugging you forward until you stumble and land on his lap.

“Hardly,” you whisper, pressing yourself closer as your hands curl into his robes.

The Emperor leans back on his throne, his hands kneading at your hips. You chase after him, eyes fluttering shut as you press your lips against his. Zayne lets out a low noise, drawing you closer, his hand sliding up your back as you kiss. The memory from last night is still fresh, the feeling of his hands on your body ingrained in your mind. 

“I cannot have enough of you,” he whispers, lips brushing over yours.

“You- you ought to rest,” you gasp, tilting your head to let him kiss down the length of your neck.

Zayne kisses your sternum, and back up your neck before he sighs and tucks his face into the crook of your neck. You hold him close, hand smoothing over his hair gently.

“I have made things difficult for you,” you say quietly.

He shakes his head, squeezing your waist reassuringly. 

“I have become complacent,” he murmurs, “simply letting others do as they please.”

You kiss his forehead when he lifts his head, brushing your thumbs over his cheeks. Exhaustion mars the Emperor’s face, his eyes looking sunken and dull. The sudden gathering of his court appears to have drained his energy.

“I shall have to gather them again,” Zayne says, “the trade agreements need attention.”

A smile settles on your face when he kisses your cheeks gently, his hands petting your sides. You move off of his lap, standing up with him reluctantly. Reaching out, you fix his hair and his robes that you had held onto earlier. 

“Finish, then retire to your chambers to rest,” you instruct, patting his chest.

Zayne laughs, his head dipping down to kiss you. You return the kiss eagerly, pulling apart with a few sweet, little pecks to his lips.

“You are already acting like a doting wife,” he whispers.

You flush when he says that, looking away. It’s still hard to get over the fact that Zayne, the Emperor, wants to marry you of all people. The thought of it all makes your palms sweaty, cheeks hot and heart race. There’s a whirlwind upon you, Zayne, tearing apart your preconceived notions of the Empire. 

“I want to dote on you.”

The words tumble from your lips, soft and vulnerable. You’ve never felt this way about a man, never had a man pay attention to you, never been touched by a man before him. It’s as though the Emperor’s expressions are always tender in the way he gazes at you. You’ve never known what it’s like to be in love, but if it’s like this, so startlingly soft and sickeningly sweet, you fear you may be lost in him forever. 

“I- I just meant-” you begin to correct yourself, fidgeting with your robes.

“I know what you meant,” Zayne says softly, his hands finding yours.

Your breath catches in your throat when he lifts your hands to his mouth, his thumbs running over your skin soothingly. Zayne keeps his eyes on you as he kisses across your knuckles, squeezing your hands gently after. 

“I said I take care of what’s mine,” he continues, drawing you close, “and you are mine now.”

You nod jerkily, shoving your face into his chest. The Emperor hums, stroking your hair slowly. Unfortunately, you don’t get to bask in his embrace for any longer, a guard announcing the arrival of a messenger.

“Rest,” you remind him, planting a soft kiss on his cheek.

Zayne nods, squeezing your waist before allowing you to draw away. 

-

The other girls crowd around you immediately when you enter your chambers, their expressions sly and knowing as they tug you towards the middle of the room, soft giggles filling the air.

“Well?” one of them asks, eyes wide with curiosity. 

“Well what?” you ask, feigning innocence.

A chorus of complaints breaks out.

“Stop being shy!”

“We tell you our stories!”

“You must tell us!”

One of the girls reaches for you, her arm hooking with yours. She leans down, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispers conspiratorially.

“Was the Emperor well-endowed?”

“Oh, stop it!”

- 

The grand chancellor has been lurking in the hallways.

You’d noticed the tall man when you had left to make some tea, but after a considerable amount of time, he was still there. The cold breeze outside should’ve been enough to deter him, but you’ve figured he must be intent on speaking to you.

To be frank, you aren’t in the mood for another confrontation just days later from the disastrous court meeting that had occurred. It’s why you hold your breath as you sneak out from your chambers, feet padding against the floor lightly as you try to slip past the grand chancellor’s turned back.

“Will you avoid me for much longer?” he calls out. 

You wince, halting in place. The grand chancellor cannot be avoided forever, you suppose.

“Come along,” he says, his fingers motioning for you to follow him.

You do as he says begrudgingly, following after the grand chancellor. To your surprise, he leads you into the gardens rather than a private room. Snow is yet to fall today, autumn soon drawing to a close in a few weeks. You wipe the fallen leaves that have landed on a nearby bench, sitting down after the grand chancellor does.

It’s suffocatingly awkward, your fingers playing with each other agitatedly as he simply sits next to you, looking out at the plants and trees that make up the gardens. You realize it would be a foolish idea to let your guard down around him. The grand chancellor hadn’t reprimanded Zayne during that meeting and yet you remember the way he had been staring at you. His intentions are hard to discern, his loyalties to the Emperor and the Emperor alone. 

“Much like his father, his majesty is stubborn,” the grand chancellor says, “I have had the pleasure of knowing both men since they were children.”

“I see,” you murmur, peeking a glance at him.

You don’t know why he’s telling you this, half-expecting the man to begin berating you for becoming so close to Zayne. 

“I shall be frank,” he sighs, turning to face you, “I did not expect the Emperor to become so… enamored by you.”

“I did not expect it either,” you grumble defensively.

“His majesty is an intelligent man. He knows of the consequences and yet seems intent on taking you to wed.”

“Consequences?” you echo.

“Political alliances are frail,” he explains, picking up a fallen leaf and examining it, “marriage is the easiest way to prevent a war between regions.”

“We have not been at war for years!” you protest, shaking your head.

“And we will not be for many more,” the grand chancellor assures you, “I am simply warning you of what may come when you are Empress.”

You don’t understand the politics of the Empire, have never been privy to such things. The grand chancellor only adds to the confusion and uncertainty that has been brewing inside your mind. 

“I thought you would dissuade him,” you say quietly.

“The boy deserves happiness,” the grand chancellor murmurs, standing up, “if he wishes to be with you, then I will allow it.” He peers down at you, his lips thinning. “Take caution, child. Envy drives men to madness. The nobility may hide behind their bloodlines, but a cesspool festers within.”

The grand chancellor hands you the withered leaf.

“Loyalties change as the seasons do.”

- 

A week later, the Emperor finds you in the gardens, sitting under a tree.

“You have not come to see me,” Zayne says, sitting down beside you.

“I did not want to trouble you,” you reply.

You reach for his hand, lacing your fingers with his. The Emperor’s fingers are stained with ink, streaks of black covering his pale skin. Zayne’s arm wraps around your waist, pulling you flush against his side.

“The grand chancellor is worried.”

“I surmised as much,” the Emperor sighs, his fingers playing with your robes.

You peer up at him, and Zayne leans down, dropping a kiss to your forehead. There’s a part of you that can’t help but feel you’re putting him in a position that he normally wouldn’t be in if he had simply chosen to marry someone of higher status.

“Do you truly wish to marry me?” you ask quietly, averting your gaze.

“Have I told you otherwise?” Zayne asks in return, his fingers gripping your chin to turn your head so that your eyes meet his again.

The tenderness in his eyes is overwhelming. You feel as though you’re drowning, swallowed up by his irises and his honest gaze. Things would’ve been far simpler if he were someone less important, but you can’t imagine Zayne being anything other than the Emperor, for it would be a disservice to the Empire.

You shift, standing up before settling your hands on his broad shoulders, straddling him as you climb up onto his lap. It’s improper to act so brazenly, but you’ve done far more improper things with him, acted far more brazenly in his presence. The Emperor grunts as you settle yourself on his lap, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you closer.

“I am not fit to be your Empress,” you whisper.

Zayne doesn’t say anything for a moment, his hand simply rubbing up and down your back soothingly. Your throat is tight and you can feel your lips trembling. You don’t want to cry, but you can’t help it when a sniffle escapes you.

“And you think I am fit to be Emperor?” he whispers, “I am only here because of my father and his father before him and so on.”

“But you are the Emperor,” you insist, voice quavering, “I could not possibly-”

“Forget about nonsensical titles,” Zayne murmurs, his hands cupping your cheeks as his thumbs wipe away the hot tears that have begun to roll down your cheeks, “I meant every word I said that night.”

“B- but-” 

“But nothing,” the Emperor soothes, staring into your eyes intently, “I would sooner have no one than not have you.”

“You are the worst,” you say tearily, pushing at his chest weakly. 

“Ah, I am sure,” he says, a small smile spreading across his face.

The Emperor cradles your head, tilting it to his will as he kisses away the fresh tears that wet your cheeks. He doesn’t stop there, his lips dragging over your skin gently. The Emperor kisses your brows, your closed eyelids, the tip of your nose, every inch of your face that is bared to him.

“Thank you,” you whisper. 

You kiss him gently and Zayne smooths his thumbs over your cheeks, deepening the kiss as he presses his lips against yours firmly. A soft whine leaves you, letting his tongue lick over the seam of your lips before he licks into your mouth, tongue delving deep. The Emperor kisses you as though trying to convince you of his words, as though to make you stay. 

“I want to show you something,” Zayne says, his forehead pressing against yours. You nod, moving to stand up. Zayne doesn’t let you, instead hauling you up into his arms and standing up. A surprised squeak bubbles out of you when you realize the Emperor is carrying you.

“Zayne!” you protest, “Zayne, people will see!”

Zayne only tightens his grip when you begin to squirm, brushing a kiss to your forehead to calm your ministrations.

Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, people do see. You try to shrink in his grasp, pressing yourself into his chest as the palace staff pause their duties to watch with wide eyes as the Emperor carries you out of the gardens. Some are unable to stop their jaws from slackening, others beginning to point and whisper amongst themselves.

The Emperor hardly bats an eye, his stride strong and purposeful as he carries you through the hallways and courtyards. It’s a statement in and of itself. 

You spy the smirk on an Imperial guard’s face when he opens up the doors to the throne room, your eyes narrowing when the man sends you a wink. The doors slam shut with a resounding thud, leaving only you and Zayne inside.

“Zayne- Zayne, no!” you hiss, hands scrabbling at his shoulders when you realize what he’s doing. 

Your legs kick out, trying to somehow climb up the Emperor’s tall frame. It’s futile against his strength, his hands manhandling you until he sets you down on his throne. If he doesn’t punish you for it, you fear the Heavens will. 

“Stay,” the Emperor says, pushing at your shoulders when you try to shoot up from where you’re sitting, “I command it.”

You sit in place rigidly, back straight. There are centuries of history that make up this throne, and you can’t help but feel that you are somehow dishonoring it all by sitting here. 

“What are you-” your brows furrowing when he suddenly begins to bend.

Fingers digging into the arms of the throne, you feel as though you might faint as you watch the Emperor bow to you before sinking to his knees. Zayne stares up at you expectantly, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

“G- get up!” you whisper heatedly.

There’s no one here, but you can only imagine the severity of the consequences if someone were to stumble in here and find the Emperor on his knees for you.

“Command it,” he says, looking perfectly content in his current position.

“No one can command the Emperor!”

“I will not move unless you exert your authority,” Zayne says simply.

Your eye twitches at his insistence, at his own brazenness. 

“Say it,” he coaxes gently, “say it and I will stand.”

“I-” your breath catches in your throat awkwardly. You flush when Zayne nods his head encouragingly, your voice breathy when you begin to speak again. “I c-command you to stand.”

“Very good,” he murmurs, standing up and moving towards you.

Zayne smiles at you, his head dipping to crash his lips onto yours, his hands braced on the arms of his throne. You gasp, arms wrapping around his neck as he kisses you fiercely. The Emperor continues his onslaught of kisses, dragging his lips down your neck as his fingers pull free the knot holding your robes together.

“You think your station determines your worth,” Zayne whispers, his teeth scraping your shoulder, “but this- you are worth more to me than the finest jade.”

“Stop,” you whisper, eyes slipping shut, “you must stop speaking like that. It does awful things to my heart.”

He laughs softly, kissing between your breasts. You bite your lip as his mouth envelops your breast, his tongue swirling around your nipple. His teeth catch on it, tugging playfully before letting it pop free as he switches breasts. You run your fingers through his long hair, head tipping back against the throne as your body convulses.

The Emperor holds you in place, letting his tongue lave over your areola, his half-lidded eyes peering up at you to catch your reactions. You give him a weak smile and Zayne moans around your breast, his hand squeezing at the fat of your other breast.

Your dazed eyes watch as he kisses down your body, kissing your hip then your navel. He sinks to his knees once again, and you can’t find it in yourself to reprimand him, lost in the haze of lust and love. Zayne kisses the curls of hair on your mound, his hands gripping your calves to help guide your legs over his shoulders.

“I have missed this,” he whispers, his thumbs pulling apart your folds.

“As have I,” you sigh.

You moan when Zayne licks up a stripe over your cunt, collecting your arousal on his tongue. He rests his cheek against your thigh, watching intently as your aching hole clenches around nothing, watching as more slick drips from you.

“Stop staring,” you mumble, pushing at his head gently.

“I enjoy the sight,” he says in return.

Your thighs twitch when he pushes the hood of your clit up a little more, exposing the swollen bud. Zayne groans, kissing the inside of your thigh firmly before licking over your cunt again. A strangled gasp rips out of your throat, hands tightening in his hair as he sucks your clit into his mouth.

“Z- Zayne- ah- hah!” 

A soft whimper escapes when he kisses your clit, his fingers dimpling into the flesh of your thighs harshly. Zayne pulls you to the edge of the throne, his face burying deeper as he groans again, drinking down your slick. 

You squeal when he fucks his tongue into you, body shaking uncontrollably as you fist his hair tighter. He hisses against your cunt, renewing his efforts. You can feel his mouth opening wider, trying to consume you whole, licking and sucking desperately at every inch of velvety, sensitive flesh he can reach.

His nose rubs against your clit, and you’re seeing stars. The Emperor makes an obscene noise and you can feel his tongue moving inside of you, the feeling making your thighs clamp around his head. 

“Have- have you ever put your fingers inside of yourself?” he asks, raising his head.

You shake your head, watching as his fingers stroke over your clit lovingly, his mouth pressing open-mouthed kisses to your knee.

“May I?” the Emperor whispers, his finger prodding at your hole.

You give him a jerky nod, legs falling apart a little more for him. He smiles up at you, his finger sinking into you slowly. You whimper at the sensation, clenching around his finger. Zayne adds another soon after, and you’re panting desperately, hips bucking as he curls them inside of you. 

“The scroll said to do something like this,” he mutters under his breath.

“You- oh- you read a scroll?” you grit out.

“It was quite informative,” Zayne murmurs, beginning to move his fingers.

“Why must you be so- ah!” 

You don’t get to finish your sentence, your knuckles turning white as you grip the throne for stability as he latches his mouth back onto your clit, his fingers thrusting in and out of you. The heat inside your stomach grows more intense with each flick of his tongue, his teeth scraping against your sensitive flesh for good measure.

Moans have begun to fill the air, and you can’t find it in yourself to care anymore, letting go completely. You guide his head to where you want him, toes curling against his back, crumpling his silk robes. Zayne’s mouth works with his fingers diligently, his fingers crooking up a little more to graze the spot where you need it most.

You peek down to see the pink flush on his cheeks and your back arches, his name leaving your mouth in a cry as you come on his fingers and his tongue. The Emperor moans as you writhe, his fingers moving in and out of you a couple more times before freeing them from your clenching walls.

Chest heaving, you pant, slumping back in the throne as he kisses across your puffy folds and sensitive cunt. Your thighs twitch a little when he peppers soft, little kisses against your clit and you can’t help but think the man has an obsession with its ability to bring you such pleasure.

The Emperor kisses up your body and you cup his jaw, kissing him sweetly.

“I fear this throne may be ruined,” you whisper against his lips.

He laughs, his nose nudging yours gently, “I recall promising to take you on it.”

“Before that,” you stand up on shaky legs, pushing at his chest until he sits back on his throne.

Adoration glimmers in his eyes, watching as your loose robes slip from your shoulders, pooling at your feet. You stand bare before the Emperor, and you catch the slight spreading of his thighs to relieve the ache of his cock.

This time it’s you that’s sinking to your knees, pulling his robes free. The muscles of his abdomen clench when you run your fingers down his chest, his hand coming up to cover his flushed face.

“Why are you shy now?” you accuse, pouting up at him.

His thighs twitch when you curl your hand around his cock and you can feel the throb of his fat, hot length. 

“You do not have to-” he whispers when he sees your head dip.

“I want to,” you say stubbornly.

Zayne nods in acquiescence, moaning when you begin to drag your hand up and down his cock. It’s a little intimidating when you stare at it up close, but you swallow down your worries, leaning forward to kiss the tip experimentally.

His cock twitches in response, pre-cum beading at the tip. Your tongue darts out, licking up the little glob, feeling the taste of him spread across your tongue.

“Zayne,” you whisper, breath fanning over his cock, “Zayne, you must watch me.”

The Emperor groans at your lilting voice, his eyes opening the moment your mouth envelops him. His hips buck and you nearly seize up at the feeling of the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat. You mewl around him, breathing through your nose, tongue swirling before your head begins to bob up and down.

“Fuck,” Zayne hisses, his fingers spreading across your scalp, “my love, you are devious.”

You hum in response, pulling off of his cock in favor of giving more attention to the tip of it. You swirl your tongue, tongue flicking at the flared head and it’s enough to make Zayne whine, his thighs spreading wider for you. 

“Can you take it deeper?” he asks, his fingers trailing down the curve of your cheek.

“I shall try,” you murmur, mouth opening for him.

He hooks his thumb into the corner of his mouth, cupping your chin before his thumb spreads over the flat of your tongue. You smile, eyes flashing with mischievousness as you suck his thumb into your mouth, tongue flicking against the pad of it. 

Zayne shoots you a searing look and you watch as he grips the base of his cock. He drags the tip of his cock against your closed lips, entranced as he watches his pre-cum smears across your lips. His other hand presses at the back of your head and your mouth opens again, letting him guide his cock into your mouth.

“Just like that,” he whispers, “good girl.”

You can feel arousal shooting through you at the praise, slick pooling between your thighs yet again. The ache is so unbearable that you shove your hand between your thighs, rubbing at your clit.

The Emperor pushes your head gently and you go willingly, slurping and sucking around his thick cock. Saliva drips from your mouth, coating his cock and his balls, strings of it landing on the edge of his throne. You rub at your clit faster, eyes fluttering as he brushes your loose hair away from your face.

“A- ah,” Zayne rasps, “hah- my love.”

The term of endearment is enough to have you taking it upon yourself to sink down his cock even more. The tufts of his black hair hit your nose for a moment, but you’re inexperienced and you’ve overestimated your own abilities. The feeling of his cock filling your throat is too much, and you choke, throat seizing, causing you to pull off with a hoarse cough as your eyes water.

Concern flits across Zayne’s face, his thumb swiping over your swollen lips. You give him a watery smile, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. He sighs in relief when he sees you’re okay, leaning forward to place a tender kiss to your lips.

“So willful,” the Emperor murmurs.

He slides his hands under your armpits, picking you up and setting you down on his lap.

“I can do it again,” you mumble, gaze lowering to see his cock pressed between your bodies.

Zayne smiles, petting at your sides, “as much as I enjoyed the feeling, I cannot have my darling choking on my cock.”

“I was not choking,” you whine, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

“If you insist,” Zayne soothes, “but when we are married, I will have many more opportunities to watch you swallow my cock.”

The Emperor’s constant promise of marriage has your heart lurching and you lean forward, crushing your lips against his. He grunts in surprise at your sudden action but returns the kiss just as eagerly, squeezing at your hips.

You whine into his mouth, his hair tickling your skin as he presses forward, his hips rolling up into yours. You can feel his hard cock between your thighs, the length dragging between your folds. 

Zayne groans at the sensation, his head falling back and you take the opportunity to kiss down his neck, rolling your hips wantonly, your nails digging into his broad shoulders.

“Who are you?” he whispers, groping the fat of your ass.

“W- what?” you pull back, confusion spreading across your face.

The Emperor guides your hips to continue moving, your folds hugging his cock as you grind against it.

“Who are you?” Zayne asks again, “your title, what is it?”

Pleasure has made your mind hazy, and you can’t discern whether he’s playing a game of some sort with his questions, or whether he’s suffering from some sort of untimely amnesia.

“Your concubine,” you reply, “I thought-”

You jolt in his arms when he suddenly lands a heavy spank to your ass, his eyes narrowing when he hears your answer.

“Incorrect,” Zayne murmurs, his hand squeezing your ass in warning.

“I am your concubine- ah!”

Zayne shakes his hand, spanking you twice. You can feel the prickly heat spread across your skin, the pain searing. You glare up at him, and he smiles back, his hand smoothing over your reddened backside. 

“Who are you, my love?” he whispers, his nose nudging yours.

Oh. Oh. 

The Emperor’s insistence is a remarkable thing, you think. He may be even more stubborn than you are. Zayne’s fingers tapping against your cheek brings you out of your thoughts, your eyes meeting his. 

“I- I am your Empress,” you say quietly.

“Precisely.”

Zayne slots his lips over yours and you mewl, your hips beginning to rock again, inner thighs wet with your slick and his pre-cum smeared over his abdomen. He kisses you over and over until you’re short of breath and your lips are swollen and slick with his spit.

“Will you take my cock, my love?” 

“Y- yes,” you say airily, lifting your hips as he grips the base of his cock, “please.”

Zayne squeezes your hip, watching as you bite your lip and sink down on his cock. His cock is just as girthy as you remember, filling up your needy hole perfectly. Your body falls forward at the feeling and Zayne kisses your cheek, his arms wrapping around your waist.

“Always take my cock so well,” he praises.

Your hands plant themselves against his chest as your head tips back, taking what you want from him. Hips rising and falling, airy moans filling the air, you ride the Emperor. Zayne moans with you, his hands kneading at the flesh of your sides before drifting to take handfuls of your ass too.

“So good,” you slur, the force of your movements increasing, “feels so good, Zayne.”

“I know,” Zayne whispers, watching the bounce and sway of your breasts as you move atop him, “use me, my love.”

You do as he says, using him to drive yourself further to the edge of pleasure. The sounds filling the throne room are lewd, the clap of skin echoing throughout coupled with your shared noises.

Your thighs burn as you roll your hips, taking his cock deeper into the heat of your cunt, feeling it punch into the most sensitive spot inside of you. It’s too much, the mind-numbing sensations and your own body tiring with every movement.

You slump against him, hips slowing to a pitiful stop, his fat cock still stuffed inside of you. It twitches and you whimper, peering up at Zayne desperately.

“Husbands should take care of their wives,” you mumble, lips pressing against his.

“But we are not yet married,” he whispers teasingly. 

Zayne kisses you slowly, his hand sliding up your neck and stopping to cup your cheek. He molds you to his will, maneuvering your body as he sees fit, grabbing at every inch of flesh he can reach.

“But I am yours,” you say earnestly, “and I will be yours till the day I die.”

“You will, won’t you?” Zayne smiles, drawing you closer, “nothing makes me happier, my dear.”

You wail when he suddenly ruts up into you, balls slapping against your ass as he tightens his grip to bounce you up and down on his lap. Your hands lose their holds on his shoulders, scrabbling for stability until you find purchase on the top of his throne. 

The Emperor is fucking you on his throne. 

You try to feel some sense of mortification, but you can’t, the feeling of his cock erasing all sensible thoughts from your mind. Zayne slaps your ass and you squeak, body falling forward even more. Your breasts press into his face and you whine when he mouths at them, sucking a hardened nipple into his mouth.

The Emperor’s name leaves your mouth in a pleading chant and he answers your needs, pulling you down until your cunt is flush with the base of his cock, pussy swallowing up his length completely. Zayne slows to a grind, keeping his cock stuffed inside of you. 

You curl an arm around his neck, hugging him closer to your breasts and Zayne groans, his mouth opening wider to try and take in your entire breast. He stares up at you, the flush on his cheeks deepened and eyes so, so soft. 

Your lips slot over his as soon as his mouth detaches from your breast, your lips working against his slowly and sweetly, hips swaying back to meet the slow thrusts of his hips.

“You have ruined me,” you confess, cheek resting on his shoulder.

“Better it be me than some other man,” he whispers.

You agree with him on that. Zayne has given you far more than you could’ve possibly dreamed, the twist of fate bringing you something, or rather, someone to cherish.

“You are everything, Zayne.”

He groans at your bold words, his head falling back against his throne. You come undone in slow waves, body trembling as he comes with you, his cock kicking inside of you as hot cum spurts from the tip, filling you up. You can feel the thickness of it, cum spilling into you for a few moments longer as your hips slow to a stop.

You both breathe heavily, his chest moving under yours. A thin sheen of sweat covers your bodies, robes forgotten as they lie at the foot of the throne. 

A soft smile graces your lips as you move his hair out of his eyes, tilting his head to kiss his forehead.

“You spoil me,” Zayne mutters, nuzzling into your palm.

“I think it is the other way around,” you laugh breathlessly.

He sighs, slumping in his throne, his cock still inside of you. You can feel it softening, no longer plugging you full as cum begins to leak out from your pussy.

“I may need more tea,” you whisper.

Zayne huffs in amusement, his fingers collecting his viscous cum. He smears it across your pussy, his fingers catching onto your clit as he rubs his cum onto the little bud. He lifts his hand to your mouth and you accept eagerly, staring into his eyes as you suck his fingers clean of cum.

“Minx,” he mutters.

You giggle, kissing the pads of his fingers affectionately, shifting to sit on his thigh. Zayne smiles in return, his hands massaging your sore thighs. He kisses your cheek a few times, peppers a few kisses here and there over your shoulder.

“Feeling better?” Zayne asks, nuzzling your cheek.

“Much,” you whisper, smiling up at him, “but I fear I may not be able to walk.”

“Shall I carry you again?” the Emperor whispers.

You roll your eyes, prodding your fingers into his chest, “I did not enjoy that.”

“Lying is punishable by death.”

“You are insufferable,” you whisper.

Zayne leans forward for another kiss, but you deny him, slipping off of his lap. He laughs when your thighs tremble, reaching out to catch you by the waist before your knees buckle.

He tugs you onto his lap, thwarting your escape as he kisses you again. You think you won’t be leaving this place anytime soon.

-

Zayne doesn’t think there’s anything more beautiful in this world than when you’re sleeping. 

The slow rise and fall of your chest, the sweet innocence of your face, your hair splayed against the pillows, the gods must favor him for they’ve sent him a vision.

He smiles as he watches you stir in your sleep, brushing away the hair that’s fallen onto your face. Zayne can’t resist leaning closer, his fingers tracing the curve of your cheek, feeling your soft skin under his.

Zayne likes it when you smile, when you glare, the way you protest against his subtle teases. He’s never met someone as endearing as you, never bothered to take interest in another until you came along with that tray of tea clutched in your hands. He hasn’t told you about how his own heart flutters at the mere thought of you, and doesn’t think he will. He’d be better off showing you instead.

Above all, he remembers when you’d stumbled into his chambers, your flustered disposition as you’d apologized. He’d been lonely before you, trapped in a dull existence with others meandering through his life without purpose.

But you’ve changed things now. He feels free when he hears your laugh, the light in your eyes warming him from within. The world around him seems brighter, sparks of color appearing in places he had never seen before. 

You had painted the world for him.

[maeed2103]

People often mistake Luffys indifference for ignorance and I’m here to set the record straight:

Luffy is aware of others and their emotions and what goes on around him, he just doesn’t give a fuck outright until you see him giving one.

Throughout the series we see Luffy beating the crap out of someone who’s an ally, for what at first may seem like no reason but in reality is because they are disrespecting a core belief of his or disrespecting themselves.

A great example is when he slapped Vivi (gay on gay crime lmao). He did so because he not only wanted to “snap her out” of her train of thought but he was also so angry that him and his crew were not being seen as her friends, that he was not trusted enough to be someone she could lean on when he had been there throughout their time in Alabasta. Vivi was also being selfless to a point of self destruction, trying to push away the straw hat crew, thinking of herself as a martyr, the only person capable of saving her country. So luffy had to show her reason in classic Luffy fashion.

Luffy is aware, he’s not just some kid playing pirates like everyone often thinks he is. Luffy strives for true freedom, he challenges the world government, he sees how corrupt the government is and denounces them entirely. He punches a celestial dragon because he doesn’t believe in power structures and believes every asshole deserves to be put in place.

Luffy is an anarchist. To be against the government and to start revolutions requires critical thinking.

[saintsenara]

Thoughts on remadora?

thank you very much for the asks, anons!

while they are by no means my otp, i really enjoy remadora as pairing - and i think they’re fully up there among the canon couples in terms of being an amazing vehicle through which to explore all sorts of questions about life and love - which i am aware is a sufficiently controversial statement that it involves an immediate engagement with some discourse…

because remadora girlies [gender neutral] get an enormous amount of shit within the fandom, particularly from fans who consider wolfstar to be a more plausible pairing for lupin than tonks. i have seen remadora shippers called homophobes for simply enjoying the couple, justified with the bizarre idea that it disrespects remus' relationship with sirius [so... the non-canon one?] to put them together. i have seen tonks turned into a pathetic shrew who is trying to keep remus from the real love of his life by trapping him with an unwanted baby. i have seen remadora shippers get a lot of the usual stuff that people who prefer the canon-endgame couples do [that to ship a canon pair is boring, that it is indicative of a lack of talent, that it indicates an uncritical support for jkr] magnified to eleven because tonks has the temerity to be a barrier to remus’ relationship with the fandom’s favourite hot and brooding man.

obviously, this is bullshit - primarily because its unreasonable and cruel to invest so much time and energy being mean to people because of their harry potter shipping preferences [fandom should never be that deep].

but it’s also a disappointment to me personally because it means that it can be very hard to find the sort of remadora i like without looking like i’m coming to contribute to the pile-on. because where many remadora fans and i don’t see eye-to-eye is that i have absolutely no interest in thinking about them as a relationship which is actually functional. and, all too often, i find myself sifting through fics which do prefer to interpret them like this - as romantic and passionate and stable - largely, i think it’s fair to say, as a defensive move against the tide of “urgh, imagine shipping that” nonsense - even though all the evidence of canon is that they are… very much not.

i am aware of the pottermore article which smoothes the edges of lupin’s canonical reaction to tonks’ feelings for him in half-blood prince - but, while i read this as something of a retcon to make the relationship more palatable, i also don’t think that assuming that both tonks and lupin’s attraction to each other was sincere precludes them being as dysfunctional as they canonically are. i don’t go in for the common anti-remadora argument that tonks “forces” him into a relationship with her - it’s clear in half-blood prince that it’s not only her who has discussed her feelings with molly and arthur weasley, lupin is definitely flirting with her when they pick harry up in order of the phoenix, lupin is an adult man [no matter other power imbalances between him and tonks - such as the fact that she is an agent of the state which oppresses him] who possesses the capacity to refuse her advances, and - since teddy’s conception is not immaculate - he has no issue with enjoying a sexual relationship with her even if he then wants to run away from the product of that.

instead, what i like with remadora is that they reveal something which goes against the grain of the rest of the series: that love is not always enough. throughout the seven-book canon, we see time and time again the idea that love - and, crucially, love-as-noble-suffering and love-as-sacrifice - is enough to overcome any problem. entire civil service collaborating with a terrorist regime? don’t trouble yourself, love has won. your mother dying in childbirth leaving you to be neglected in a state institution? your own fault you’re not interested in love.

i understand the genre reasons for this, but i also love the way in which lupin especially exists on the margins of these genre conventions [just as he exists on the margins of wizarding society!]. i’m always struck in deathly hallows that he’s the only person who’s actually realistic about the demands of war - particularly when he tells harry that it is breathtakingly naive for him to think he can get through the fighting without having to shoot to kill - and that part of him having to be shuffled out of the way when harry tells him to return to the pregnant tonks is because, were the story focused on realism, the idea of a wanted man who is considered an unhuman by the state fleeing in order to guarantee the safety of his wife and unborn child becomes eminently reasonable and harry's defense of the nuclear family embarrassingly unradical.

and so i like the idea of lupin seeing tonks - and tonks seeing lupin - initially as just a bit of fun, as the two of them being just two chill single people who think the other is hot and interesting and want to bang because of it.

[which is something fandoms in general really struggle with as a concept. we like epic love stories - and you won't find me objecting to that! - but we're less good at thinking about casual sexual attraction or transient friendships, and how these can be transformative and meaningful without having to end up going any sort of distance.]

and i then like the idea of the relationship being forced into a profundity it doesn’t really have the juice to sustain by the sheer avalanche of grief which besets the two of them - sirius, dumbledore, mad-eye, ted - and by the pressure of the war and the fact that the order is scrambling and the hangover of remus' self-destruction in half-blood prince which makes each cling to the other as a life-raft. i like remadora as something codependent and messy and strange and sad, and i don’t think this prevents it being sincere and fun and based in mutual attraction, but instead that these positive qualities can exist in conjunction with the fact that, without the war, it would have been a summer of fucking and that was probably it.

on tonks herself, i don’t think i can say it better than @evesaintyves in this meta on her character. i’ve been really uncomfortable with quite a lot of stuff i’ve seen recently which has taken against the idea that tonks can be meaningfully read as queer on the basis of what we find in the text, above all because it so often comes with the implication that one cannot imagine her in her canon endgame pairing and presume that she’s something other than straight or cisgender. eve sets out an excellent case for tonks as bolshy and liberated and in tune with herself and fun and confused and in flux and still figuring stuff out about who she is and where she’s going - and this translates, may i say, to an astonishingly beautiful way of writing her, lupin, and the dysfunction inherent between them which i highly recommend you read.

[the-badger-mole]

i've scrolled through your blog quite a bit, and one thing i haven't seen you talk about (though maybe i just didn't scroll far enough) was the scene where sokka is wearing the kyoshi warrior uniform.

i've seen so many people say "wow, the show is really taking a stance against toxic masculinity! sokka wore a dress! it humbled him!" but if you actually watch the show . . .

it wants you to laugh at that, actually. it's one of my least favorite lines from aang. sokka is repeating something suki told him about what different parts of the uniform represent or something like that and he's looking pretty proud, but then aang walks by and says "hey sokka, nice dress" and laughs. and that's never walked back and aang's never punished. so the narrative is clearly pushing that . . . what aang said was okay? but if what aang said was okay, then that means that sokka wearing a dress was meant to be laughed at, right?

anyway, i don't understand how people watch that scene and take away "wow, that scene was so progressive! sokka wore a dress!" yeah . . . we as the audience are supposed to laugh at it. it's supposed to be funny. because boy in dress can't be taken seriously! it has to be a joke!

and i don't understand how people watch that scene and like aang. that was his first major red flag for me. like??? it get that he's twelve and a little shitster, but as you've said so many times, his age isn't an excuse to not hold him accountable. in fact, his immaturity means he should be held extra accountable, so he doesn't end up the same little shitster as an adult. the end of that episode should have had aang apologize to suki (who was also there when aang made that comment iirc). that comment was demeaning and threw away the entire point of that scene (and episode, honestly) in just four words. it demeaned the kyoshi customs and culture, and it completely throws away the point of suki telling sokka "if you want to train with me, you have to follow all our traditions" (paraphrase, not real quote).

anyway aang sucks, and if you've already talked about this, sorry. but if you haven't would love to hear your thoughts.

Of all the things that I think are wrong with Aang, his sexism is pretty low. That's not to say I don't think he's got the potential to be sexist, I just don't think it's occurred to him. He grew up in a gender segregated monastery. I wouldn't be surprised if Katara was the first girl around his own age that he'd spent any time with at all. What were the monks teaching him about girls, and why they were separated? Who knows? Clearly, he knew enough to ridicule Sokka for wearing a dress and to be upset about being played by a woman in EIP. Aang does have some sexist tendencies, but I don't think he's thought through the implications enough to actually be outright sexist. His worst moments have to do with his cultural biases, and an Air Nomad superiority complex. One of his worst moments had to do with him being disrespectful towards Bato about SWT artifacts.

The most obvious potential example of his sexism the way he treats Katara throughout the series, at least on the surface, but while there was absolutely sexism involved in how Katara was treated, I think it was more sexism in the writers room than in Aang himself. With Aang, it was less sexism, and more general entitlement. He wanted Katara. Her feelings didn't matter, not because she was a girl, but because she was an object. I've pointed out before that Nightmares and Daydreams proved that he understood what enthusiastic consent is, but he never even considered her feelings enough to think that she could turn him down. He was very entitled about Katara's affections and even her body, but I don't think the entitlement would've been different if the genders were reversed (look at how entitled Korra felt to Mako), or even if Aang and Katara were both boys.

I'm sure someone else could find more examples of Aang being overtly sexist- in fact, I remember reading a really good meta about Aang's reaction to being played by a woman in EIP, but I can't remember who wrote it. Still, don't think it matters if Aang was sexist or not. He's more toxic than Sokka ever was, even without being overtly sexist. Sokka, at least, was open to learning and growing, and his sexism was never that deep. But Aang? He never gets the opportunity to grow, because his bad traits are never called out like Sokka's are. I'm convinced that Aang benefits from cute privilege within the fandom. If Aang was a year or two older, and looked like Sokka or Zuko, he'd be right up there with Ross Gellar and Ted Mosby in the Nice Guys Who Aren't Actually That Nice pantheon, but because he's got big ears, chubby cheeks, and a big ol' smile, he gets a pass.

[clouds-by-me]

𝓞𝓱 𝓽𝓸 𝔀𝓲𝓼𝓱, 𝓾𝓹𝓸𝓷 𝓪 𝓼𝓱𝓸𝓸𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓻

Chapters; [Nav] Part 1[Clear skies] [Next] Warnings; Cult themes{if you squint}, mentioned abandonment An|This lil series is based on my idea for sagau which you may find here

High above the sky, a being descends into the world. From a golden star they fly, everyone across Teyvat can see the shining glow the star makes. And everyone stops and stares in awe as they began to realize what this could mean for their world.

Joy, absolute joy fills every human and humanoid soul in Teyvat.

"The creator! They have returned! May our creator bless our souls and being of the day!" Excited cheers and chants course throughout the land as they watch the star that was believed to be their beloved creator who textbooks and stories told of.

One of the many upon millions of souls who caught a sight of the marvelous glow was a bond traveler and their short white haired traveling companion.

"Look Traveler! The creator has descended!" The shorter flying friend cheered as she pointed to t he star. The traveler looks to their friend with a raised brow and a clearly confused expression on their face.

"The creator?" They ask "Paimon how come I’m just now hearing of this creator person?" The traveler asks as the two walk on a grassy path. Paimon looks to her traveling friend with such a disrespected face and looks as if she could strangle her clueless friend on the spot.

"Paimon has told you about The Creator! Remember? All the stories about our Creator ascending from our world and it's prophesied for them to return on a bright glowing star that will brighten Teyvats sky the same way the Sun would? Have you not been paying attention to Paimon?" A sense a guilt washes over the traveler as they look over their friends pain stricken face.

"Of course I've been listening to you, Paimon. I just...forgot. Yeah...I forgot." The obvious lie satisfied Paimon enough for her to believe her companion as she sighed.

"Paimon just doesn't understand how you don't know who The Creator is! Paimon hasn't been the only one to talk about them... " The Traveler just shrugged their shoulders stepping over a fallen branch that more likely than not, fell from a large tree.

"Well then Paimon will tell you about them again, what kind of travel guide would Paimon be if Paimon knowingly let you not know who The Creator is? " she paused for a moment looking to see in which direction the star was landing. The star was going East, while they were moving West, and deeper into a grassy land.

Long, long ago a being floated in the sky, all alone and with no one to share any company with. They were something that most would assume was lonely. So to fill the whole that the emptiness left they made somewhere to call home, a land that was large and vast, one that had its own design and could make its own destiny. They made elements that would reside in the world, each of which would reflect a different emotion and feeling of theirs. However, though they made many, they knew that only some would last the longest. Content. Wrath. calm. Loyalty. Happy. Wretched. Tired.

They lived on the world they made with their own feelings beside them, but for some reason they still could feel that empty feeling that wouldn't be hugged away. So they thought to make something else. Something that wouldn't be entirely like them. They would make humans that would be similar to them, but none would look like them. And so that's how the people of Teyvat was made. From there they lived on Teyvat with their creations, everything was peaceful. They were loved and worshipped. The people of Teyvat built them their own sanctuary with a throne made of Gold and and other shiny or prized items. Shrines and statues of them were made and regulatory were prayed at. Offerings were left for the Creator aswell. Their own emotions had chosen successors which would be known as Archons. The world was at peace. Then, on a day that seemed too dark and gloomy to be true, the oh so great Creator disappeared. Seeming to have been wiped from the face of Teyvat. The only thing left from them was a hand written note that said; To my dear world, one that I will always be with. I will return soon. Please do not miss me to much for I won't be gone forever. When I return, I will come from the sky, on a bright star. And a week exactly from my return it will be my birthday, so please be well prepared. This is not goodbye for I as your Creator will always be watching over you. All of you, my darling creations. With much love, Creator After they left the world became something anew. Became something so different from when they were here. The change caused wars to brake out, Teyvat to shift. Now no more then seven centuries pasted to make Teyvat into what it is known as now...

"And so the land of Teyvat grew independent, longing for the day our Creator would return..." Paimon concluded the story. The took a few seconds to process all the information they'd just been given. Just as the traveler opened their mouth to speak their ears twitched at the sound of a soft yet raspy voice. The voice gave the traveler a greeting without introducing themselves and calling the Traveler by their name. This made the blond quite confused. Hearing their own name after had been called by their title for so long felt foreign to them.

"Who are you? Show yourself." The Traveler demanded. Paimon looked at the Traveler with questioning gaze. "Uh, Traveler?... Who are you talking to? Did you hear something?" Panic began to course through both of their bodies. Who was this Traveler hearing?

Were they even hearing anybody?

[the5n00k]

An observation about TGAMM The End

Big big spoilers ahead, click away if you aren't caught up

This is also my first NEGATIVE TGAMM analysis post! Wowie! So if you don't want to see me bitch, also click off now

The End and how Molly McGee's character was disrespected

The End is. An episode. I have many MANY thoughts about it but it would be far too long to put in one post so I'm going to explore one of my more reoccurring opinions. This episode recontextualized a lot of things but I'm going to talk about how it recontextualized Molly as a character. Most importantly as a MAIN character. A TITLE character. A character with her own past and personality and feelings. All of which this episode completely stomped all over, handed her the check, and said "figure it out"

I want to apologize to my friend who called this so SO much earlier into the series and that he had to listen to me watch this show on lethal amounts of copium. You were right but I knew neither of us wanted you to be.

Now let's get into the meat of it, shall we?

All throughout season 1, Molly's history and relationship with the concept of friends is always treated with complete sincerity and the emotional pause it needs to sink in with the audience that she's been through it. Moving away and leaving friends is why she put so much importance on the "forever home" in the first place because she's had to leave so many people she loved. She had a rocky beginning with Scratch during the early season but quickly became on equal footing with him as they began to understand each other and their boundaries. Because she genuinely cares about him. Similarly, season 2 explores the boundaries of their friendship and shows Scratch more willing to participate in whatever Molly is doing, even begging sometimes to be included. And Molly is very patient and kind with him all throughout trying to help him regain memories of his past. And Scratch actually reciprocated a few times like helping her learn Thai and working with Libby to set her up with Ollie. They're the closest they've ever been and something I can confidently call true best friends, possibly the closest and healthiest friendship I've seen portrayed in media. Season 2 showcases how far either of them are willing to go to help each other.

Then The End happened.

Molly is the same understanding and supportive friend as she had been all season, almost to a fault. She encourages scratch to go back to his life, knowing the risks that come with it. Why did there need to be the risk of forgetting her when his spirit didn't immediately forget his living life? Don't know. Something to do with an unreleased episode although I doubt the rest of season 3 would have sweetened my opinion of this episode. Only she knew he was about to do this, she didn't talk to any of his other friends or family before he went out to Todd's house. They only found out after the fact and the next morning is when he left. None of them had any time to process that they just lost a family member, especially not Molly.

The scene where he's talking to her on the bench breaks my heart. Knowing your friend is no longer there and is replaced with this stranger. So much of this episode would have been fixed to just let him keep his memories. Considering how hard it was to pull his living memories out of his spirit, it's very likely that even the small fragments of her he remembers will slowly fade away. She had to do the one thing she never wanted to do again and repeat the same pain that's plagued her for the entire series. And it sucks! Why doesn't she get a happy ending? Hell, I'm not even convinced this was a "happy ending" for scratch since he can't remember any of the people he just spent the last two years with.

The biggest slap to the face is when Libby, Geoff, and the McGees come up behind Molly and just act like all of this is fine? They're treating scratch like this wild animal that deserved to be released into the wild because he could never fit in with society when he was PERFECTLY HAPPY with the McGees. He proudly displayed to the entire ghost world that he was an "honorary McGee" and told a ghost hunter to his face that him and Molly would do anything for each other despite their differences. Was all of that completely pointless? Because it sure feels that way. He had this entire new "life" he just completely abandoned because oh I guess I'm not really dead. Guess I better go reconnect with my childhood friend I haven't seen in person or had any meaningful conversations with in decades!!! See ya, chumps, hope you weren't attached to me or anything!

It's so disrespectful to the audience's investment in Molly and Scratch's friendship, the themes of friendship overcoming all odds and lasting forever, and Molly as a character. And to a lesser degree, it's even disrespectful to Scratch since most of the season he spent brooding over the fact that he didn't remember his past! Now he's forgotten a large portion of his "life" all over again. Now he's going to have to live with this nagging itch at the back of his mind that he's forgetting something until he manages to completely repress it too. And to rub salt in the wound, the credits don't have near sight nor mention of Molly McGee outside of a painted portrait of her and (spirit) scratch. All this does is tell me a LONG time has passed and neither of them have managed to successfully contact each other. The dream team is gone, this is a story about a girl and a ghost and none of it meant anything.

"he'll remember when he dies again!" Where does it say that

"he didn't forget, he said Moll! That means something!" The longer he spends away from the McGees and Brighton, the more likely he is to completely forget them altogether. The vague memories will eventually fade away and every "forever memory" will be worthless.

"it doesn't matter, this is Scratch's story" then why isn't it called 'scratch and the human girl'? Or 'the scratch show'? Why is Molly a title character if she's nothing but a plot device for his character development.

"Molly had to learn how to say goodbye." No she didn't. She's been doing that her entire life. She's pretty well aware of how to say goodbye. Making her relive 13 years of trauma from the other side of the vehicle doors is not a useful life skill. Pain is not necessary to grow up.

I don't care what the excuse is. This was a terrible ending for both characters and no amount of "he's happy now!" coping from both the fans and the writers is going to get me to see this any other way. If you enjoy the episode, great! I'm happy for you, there's a lot to love in the music and voice acting and breathtaking animation. But none of that could save me from this abysmal attempt at a series finale. I was so viscerally disgusting by this as a finale that I spent a good two days completely nauseous thinking about it. What a disaster. The sad part is I like the story potential! Him reuniting with Adia is what I've wanted for him all season so he could get closure. Molly and Scratch having to say goodbye is heartbreaking but understandable, a lot of shows nowadays end that way and I half expected it. But him completely forgetting the girl he owes his new lease on life to? My gosh it's just a deal breaker. It is such a cruel end for these characters and I cannot wrap my head around why they thought it was a good idea outside of cheap angst.

I wanted to like this episode and I still do. But they just did so much wrong when one thing could change and it would have completely flipped my opinion on the episode and series in general. But what do I know, I'm just a negative nancy.

Anyway idk how to end this off, justice for Molly McGee, Scratch deserved to be called Scratch McGee, kill Todd Mortenson, peace out

[yuurei20]

Hi hi! I have a weird question/thought after seeing the talk about Idia's use of language. There are a lot of things that are just unable to translate from Japanese to English, and some things that get changed as short hand. The whole nerdy implications of Idia using "-Shi" are basically absent from EN, instead he seems to use "Mr." (If I recall correctly) which really doesn't give the same impression? In your personal opinion - is there anyway you'd personally localize it? Stick with the same? Remove it completely? Use "M'lady/M'lord" instead? (haha)

Hello hello!! I love your "M'lady/M'lord" solution more than I can say ♡ It is associated with the past while still being used by some people in present-day just for fun, which is just like how Idia speaks! That would have been so great for the English-language adaptation!

As you say, Idia's honorific for others has (kind of) been translated as "Mr." on EN, but only in a select few places.

For the most part it has just been removed, but the curious continuity makes it seem like he thinks that only Malleus, Azul, Grim and Riddle are (sometimes) worthy of "Mr." (the Riddle screenshots below are even both from the same vignette).

And then there is the Harveston sub-plot between Sebek and Marja, where Sebek refuses to refer to Marja with an honorific until she proves herself worthy of respect (by fixing his plushie).

At that point he awards her with an extremely respectful honorific (equivalent to "-sama," and the same word Silver uses with Lilia).

Marja, however, immediately gives him permission to refer to her in the same way he has been throughout the entire trip.

Idia is a psuedo-narrator for this sub-plot, commenting on Sebek's disrespectful way of speaking in both languages.

But on EN he then proceeds to refer to Marja in the same way as Sebek (and everyone else) does.

This has the unfortunate result of making Idia look odd for mentioning it in the first place, when the odd person is actually Sebek, as everyone else is using a respectful honorific with Marja.

Idia using "M'lady" and everyone else (except Sebek) using "Ms." probably would have been a lot more successful in getting the situation across to people who may not be familiar with such Japanese-language nuances!

As for what I personally would go with...this conundrum reminded me of this amazing joke by @anottercoffee on Twitter:

And I would be very tempted to go for the "fansubber" solution of translating everything literally, but just having the words doesn't mean that the players are going to understand the nuances, and might cause even more confusion.

If "-san" and "-senpai" are just mouth-sounds to someone, they're not going to understand the significance behind Riddle and Azul dropping it from Leona and Riddle's names in important moments, for example.

But maybe that's okay! Because at the moment, the alternative that we have is everything getting removed from everywhere, and no one has the chance to understand anything at all.

The best comparison I have come across is Lord of the Rings and Star Trek, where authors incorporated languages that are completely invented, giving no one any chance of understanding them.

Japanese is a language that already exists, so it seems like it would actually be less of a challenge to introduce world-specific terms like "-sama" and "-chan" for people to either glaze over as a world-building aspect that doesn't interest them, or to gradually adapt to through sheer repetition, so by the end of Book 6 they might have a greater-than-zero understanding of the nuances of a foreign language (much like another magic-school series did with Latin).

The manga is actually approaching the honorifics in a different way than the game and giving “Mr.” to everybody, so Azul’s “Riddle-san," Crowley’s “Trappola-kun” and Deuce’s “Diamond-senpai” are all now Mr. Rosehearts, Mr. Trappola and Mr. Diamond (more here).

So it seems that VIZ Media did not agree with Aniplex USA's localization?

What is going to be the most interesting is the novel! Slated for an August, 2024 official English-language release, the novel is also being overseen by VIZ Media.

This means that we might see "Mr." being used everywhere (to uphold continuity with the manga), but the novel goes much deeper into character relationships than the game, and relationships are what honorifics are all about.

Cater, for example, uses them with everyone:

“Usually, Cater does not ever yobisute anyone. When he calls to Trey, he always adds ‘kun’ to his name...When Cater uses Trey’s name like this, it is only when he is really serious. Only when it is important.” -Twisted Wonderland the first novel

Is Cater going to be calling Trey "Mr. Clover"? And how are they even going to localize these sections describing a feature of a language that is not being spoken? It gives us a lot to look forward to!

In the end, writing out Japanese-specific honorifics into English might actually cause more confusion than it's worth, which is why Twst (and so many other foreign-language-adapting-to-an-English-speaking-audience properties) has gone in the direction that it has.

I like to give them the benefit of the doubt and assume that they know more than we do about what is going on, and that there are important reasons behind the choices they have made.

But I also think that the sheer popularity of the "fansubber" approach to this situation is a good sign that maybe people are sometimes okay with not understanding things, as properties like Lord of the Rings and Star Trek have shown us!

While too late for Twst, it will be interesting to see how this situation continues to evolve in the years to come. Maybe, one day, we will even get an official localization that introduces honorifics directly!

If such an experiment fails it will be most expensive for the localizer, and money is likely a large factor behind why companies might be reluctant to take such a gamble and would rather play it safe and just have everyone say "Mr."

[waitmyturtles]

I was liveblogging episode 10 of Bad Buddy last night in desperate fury, and one of my posts honed in on Dissaya talking about "saving face".

As what ALWAYS HAPPENS whenever I'm watching and/or thinking about Bad Buddy, I had a further realization (this time while showering).

That hiding and saving face that Dissaya is talking about here....

"Saving face" is an automatic given, a structural social component of Asian life. I don't know an Asian culture that isn't at least partly centered on its citizens "saving face" at any given moment of time. "Saving face" is how Asian families stay together through the absolute worst of familial trauma (the news and the shame, say, of having a child run away from home would likely be hidden from friends and extended family so that a nuclear family could "save face"). Saving face is why Japanese and South Korean business workers show little to no emotion in the workplace -- it would be an embarrassment for them, AND for the company, if outbursts were to happen. Saving face is a modicum by which collectivist societies can maintain control over behavioral outbursts that may disrupt a general flow of life. (Filial piety is another example of an automatic social given.)

When Ming and Dissaya were in high school and dating, and Ming stole Dissaya's scholarship -- Dissaya had to figure out how to save face from the embarrassment of losing the scholarship, and her opportunity to go to university.

Ming stole the scholarship, because he had to save face for himself, AND for his father (AND, ostensibly, for his entire nuclear family), as it would have been a honor unto his family for Ming to go to university.

So those are the layers of saving face for Pat's and Pran's parental generation.

How does intergenerational trauma work? Those demands for saving face aren't just passed ONTO the children -- onto Pat and Pran.

Pat and Pran are expected to embody those same responsibilities. That's why Ming continually gets angry with Pat throughout the series about lying, about the secrets, about the architecture play and about rugby practice. And Dissaya says as much to Pran before her confrontation with Ming -- how could Pran date Pat? How could Pran forget "to save [Dissaya's] reputation?"

But most importantly to me, what Dissaya says above -- what really guts me as both an Asian child, and as an Asian parent...

... is that the hiding and saving face that Dissaya is referring to above?

She's also talking about the information that Ming and Dissaya have hidden from Pat and Pran themselves.

PAT AND PRAN'S OWN PARENTS were saving THEIR faces TO THEIR SONS. So that their OWN CHILDREN would respect them.

Ming and Dissaya needed to lie and to save face to Pat and Pran, so that Pat and Pran wouldn't stray from their loyalties to their families. Pat and Pran's OWN BEHAVIOR needed to be CONTROLLED by their families, so that Pat and Pran wouldn't bring embarrassment or disrespect to Ming and Dissaya -- so that THEN, Ming and Dissaya could keep up the façade of their family battle to save themselves from the individual embarrassment they had brought upon themselves and each other in high school. We don't even know if Ming's father had known that Ming stole the scholarship. What if Grandfather Jindapat knew that Ming had stolen the scholarship? Would that have brought shame to the family? Likely.

Episode 10 is SO heart-wrenching and painful for so many reasons. But especially to see the guys continue to hear, in conversation after conversation, from Uncle Chai to their high school teacher, the TRUTH of the hatred between Ming and Dissaya, and how Pat's and Pran's childhood understanding of the battle was based on lie after lie -- you could see the confusion, trauma, and anger building. The anger that bubbled out as Pat stormed out of his house. And the trauma that flowed out from Pran on the rooftop before the boys ran away.

The boys were used as pawns in a family fight that never needed to go as far as it did. The boys realized that.

"I had to hate Pran... because of you?"

It was because Ming and Dissaya were far more concerned about saving face than about the happiness of their sons.

[mizukagami-takamagahara]

Sometimes I fall down this rabbit hole of trying to understand the Tenjo Gender Paradox, like; Why do Bang, Kagura, even Homura call her a man throughout the games when surely they would have know otherwise? People say she was passed off as a man after her death in Ikaruga to help hide the fact that it was the Imperator Herself leading the 'rebel' faction, but how would her closest companions, her own family, not know the truth? If Bang was really her direct disciple, if she trained him, there's no way he wouldn't know, right??? They'd have to have met??? This makes no sense...

I need to remember that this whole paradox only exists because of localization error. In the original text, no gendered language is used for Tenjo in the main series. The male pronouns, and the confusion they cause in the fandom, were only introduced in localization as the singular 'they' had not been adopted in mainstream media at the time. So the whole 'paradox' just doesn't exist in the world of the games themselves; it's an issue unique to our world.

If I'm not mistaken, 'Tenjo of Ikaruga' being described as a 'big scary man with a scar' was still a rumor passed around during and after the war as an NOL misinformation campaign, but that doesn't cause the same narrative issues. It makes sense that characters like Bang and Kagura wouldn't bother to directly refute the rumors. They were valuable to keeping the truth of the war a secret for both parties.

Besides, speaking of Tenjo directly as a woman, even as her subordinates, may have been seen as disrespectful. The Imperator is meant to be a divine figure, and in several cultures this divinity can be reflected by avoiding gendering a person, classifying the position they hold as something 'above' gender. But now I'm just musing about a fictional society's cultural practices.

Homura would probably be an exception to this, able to refer to Tenjo as their 'mother' (contradicting the use of "father" they use in CP) but considering Homura is also never gendered, they may also avoid such terms, possibly as a sign of respect for the station they've inherited. Thinking about that, I went to find the scene in Japanese to figure out what Homura says... and heard them use "chichi," which I believe generally means 'father'???

I have heard some people talking in such a way as to suggest that masculine language can be interpreted as gender neutral within certain contexts in Japanese; for example, "兄弟" can be used to mean brother or any sibling, and would be the word used when asking someone if they have any siblings.

Assuming that's true, this use of "chichi" may be the same; used to refer to either gender of parent. I actually have seen it used in this way on some websites! But I can't be sure if this is entirely correct, as I don't actually speak Japanese. Hmmm...

[lilbagdermole]

Toph's Characterization, ATLA Comics - A Dissertation

Chapter Three - The Rift (Part Three)

Welcome back! So happy to have you here once again to critic and analyze the depressing characterization that Bryke bestowed upon our favorite Earthbending Master throughout the ATLA Comic Series. I recommend you give my other two parts a read before jumping into this one as I go into depth into certain topics and themes that'll be brought up in this Chapter!

Chapter One - The Rift (Part One)

Chapter Two - The Rift (Part Two)

Let's begin! So Issue 3 starts off where we left off in Issue 2 - Toph single-handedly holding up an underground mine with her metalbending - thus protecting Katara, her father, Satoru and multiple mine workers that are stuck underneath the mine with her.

It's a life or death situation with everyone's lives dependent on Toph and it's a race against the clock as their anxiously waiting for Toph's metalbending students to arrive and help out. Unlike the previous Chapter we actually get a small glimpse of concern out of Aang for Toph.

Everybody, give Aang a round of applause for doing the bare minimum. But in all seriousness, I'll take the scraps I can get given Bryke are choosing to continuously portray Aang in a way that makes it seem that he cares solely for Katara's well-being (and, I'll soon get into one of the most infuriating panels related to this topic).

But hey, atleast we got some acknowledgment from Aang.

Moving forward we get Satoru and Toph interacting and to be honest I truthfully do not care for Satoru, but later into the analysis I will briefly dive into their relationship and why I don't care for it. Once Satoru is done lamenting his life to Toph (who is trying to concentrate to protect everyone in the collapsed mine, and it's hilarious that this dude that right then is the moment to retell his entire life story), Lao enters the scene.

Boring... Yawning... Sloppy... LAZY!

This. This is how we're going to resolve Toph and Lao's conflict? THIS?

Remember when I started off my analysis with specifying that Toph's trauma was very poorly handled and used as a means to advance the plot? Yah, this right here is why I stated that very opinion.

In the first part of 'The Rift' we're first introduced to Toph's traumatic circumstances growing up with her controlling and overprotective parents; neglected and isolated from the world. It's a plot point that the original animated series didn't delve into and the prospect of being able to analyze and understand Toph's more vulnerable and frail side was beyond intriguing.

However, as we got further into the central conflict between Aang and Toph it was proven to us that Toph's trauma was not going to be explored further than a means to justify her stance against Aang. She becomes, uncharacteristically, rude, bashful and disrespectful to most (if not all) her friends and the only person she seems to lighten up to is Satoru becomes he represents the The Future - something that she spontaneously advocates for (as she resents anything and everything that represents the Past).

In Chapter Two we get introduced to Lao and I've already covered why I abhorred his depiction and treatment for his daughter - and as I had predicted their conflict was nothing more than to (once again) legitimize Toph's clash with Aang. It's nothing more than horrendous, stereotypical, lazy and worse than fanfiction-level writing that goes against both characters' portrayals in the original show.

And this here proves it. We left off Lao and Toph's conflict with Lao not only verbally harassing his daughter but also denouncing her as his own kin. What he said was harsh, brutal and down-right traumatic things that would (and should) break the trust that Toph held for her parental figure.

To resolve this conflict in a satisfying manner, it'd logically require time and effort to adequately mend their severed relationship. We'd need a few pages of Lao coming to terms and accepting his daughter's independence and personality, see him struggling between the idealized version of Toph he's always wanted to enforce and his desire to not lose his daughter again (and permanently). Seeing remorse, regret and genuine guilt from Lao is crucial to make his redemption believable.

And yet, here, Lao is incapable of muttering a simple apology (it's hinted at, but he never get the words out). He begins to spill the beans on his supposed divorce with Poppy - and remember Toph needs to be firm and concentrated to focus on the metal that is near crushing them to death and this could potentially be quite ground-breaking and emotional news (what I'm getting is Toph is unironically every character's physiologist with the way they trauma dump on her) - and sobs about the hardships he's faced since Toph has left. He says he loves Toph and that's it. Previous conflict? Resolved! Disgusting insults and treatment? Forgiven!

Why does the resolution to this arc infuriate me so much?

We never see Lao feel remorseful (or at the very least apologetic) for his words and actions;

We never get a panel where we see Lao comprehend and understand why his daughter did what she did when she was twelve; And on that note - we never see him acknowledge her as a Master (something he had once aspired for her to become but thought impossible due to her disability) nor do we see him show an ounce of pride for his own kin despite all her insane accomplishments;

We never get a panel where we see Toph express her own feelings or her perspective on his behavior and how it affected her - she's been reduced to a badass with quick jests, not allowed to be emotional;

We don't get a conclusive and satisfying resolution - it's rushed and lazy so we can conclude the comic without leaving any open strings - but that only resulted in diminishing Toph's pain and trauma as well as regressing her character growth;

It's infuriating because a lot of children go through this type of environment throughout their childhood - and it'd be so much more impactful for such a strong character to break down her barriers and express how her suffocating that type of upbringing damaged her and affected her, how she grew from it and overcame her difficulties; there was also missed potential to show Lao grow and not be immediately forgiven for plot's sake - realistically, children aren't immediately forgiving and given what Lao said and did, he didn't deserve to be forgiven so quickly.

I can go on with my disappointment but this part is long enough.

So, Toph's students arrive and extract the metal that was collapsing the mine and everyone is rescued - Toph falls unconscious from the exertion she had just put her body through to save everyone from being crushed to death...

And you'd think people would care right? Maybe be grateful to her??

Give me a moment whilst I go scream into the void.

Not a single person besides her students and father care about the fact that Toph is unconscious. Not a single person is thinking about checking on the person who has been single-handedly holding up an unfathomable amount of weight with her bare hands for a prolongated period and saved countless people in the process? No one... not even her best friends. Best friends mind you that are too preoccupied with their own affection to pay a single thought for Toph.

Remember what I said earlier that I was about to go off on a particularly aggravating panel, it's this one. Because I cannot fathom, in any universe, in any circumstances, where Katara wouldn't immediately jump to Toph's aid and help her out (and would rather cuddle up and kiss her boyfriend instead of helping the injured people). I cannot fathom, in any universe, in any circumstances, where Sokka, the proclaimed leader of group, the man who put his own life on the line for Toph's own well-being during Sozin's Comet, being this nonchalant about his friend bein passed out, possibly dehydrated and hurt.

I would say I wouldn't expect this behavior from Aang, but, this comic has done nothing but showcase that Aang's mind is centered around Katara and his air acolytes with no room for his Earthbending Master and best friend. We had a small glimpse of hope at the start of the chapter only for it to be crumbled and shattered with this moment.

I don't even know what to say anymore, I'm just- I understand that Bryke need to feed us the Kata@ng agenda (because for some reason, despite it being canon, they shove down our throats almost every issue of every chapter, to make sure we know that they love eachother) I get it I do, but at what cost. You just made the majority of the cast seem selfish and inconsiderate.

Let's progress before I start seeing red. Aang needs to go destroy the Refinery and Toph wakes up - Lao asks for her help to stop the Avatar as the Refinery is his future (and apparently the future of the nations) and you know our girl is all about the future now, and so off she goes to stop Aang.

I mean- If they had developed the Lao and Toph arc with any depth or any sort of care for these characters (or at least Toph) so that this moment felt earnt in any way, shape or form, I would understand the emotional impact that would come along with Lao asking for Toph's assistance and calling her the Greatest Earthbender of All Time. But, there was no development, no growth, no struggles, no understanding, no nothing - it was water downed drama for the sake of drama. And emotional moments like these just don't provoke anything in me, other than pure, unadulterated rage because of the lack of care and attention Toph receives (in her own comic, mind you).

And we've reached the big conflict between our main protagonists:

I can't completely say I despise the idea of Toph and Aang having disagreements and opposing opinions - it's only natural due to their elements being one-another's opposite and their differing personalities. It's one of the reasons why I adore their platonic (and romantic) relationship - because they have a push and pull connection, harmonic and balanced; neither is afraid of speaking their truth at the cost of hurting the other (unlike a certain canon couple); Aang is Aang in Toph's perspective, not the Avatar, not the child who stopped the one-hundred year war, nor the master airbender. He is just Aang. Her equal. And similarly, Aang sees Toph, not for her disability or her smaller appearance, Toph is Toph. His equal.

Push and pull.

Air and Earth.

Aang and Toph.

I would have loved to see an actually interesting conflict between the two and not this nonsensical garbage. Mostly because this whole debate of The Past vs. The Future is something that came out of nowhere and it's an odd set-up for either of these characters because:

While Aang does have a need to carry out his traditions, culture and, consequentially bring his past into the future, so he can restore and preserve the Air Nomad culture. It never came at the cost of the future - we saw this in Episode "The Northern Air Temple" where he learns to accept that life evolves and we'll have to conform to his history evolving alongside it; The very concept of Yu Dao is reflective of Aang's desire and dream of uniting the four nations, progression and evolution, the future.

Toph, on the other hand, never eluded her rancor towards her past. And, her contrived favor for the future stemmed from her parental issues that were poorly explored and thus, we don't really get a logical nor believable understanding of Toph's stance. It's forced and doesn't suit her nature as well as it ends up harming her growth and character.

So now Aang remembers their friends?

If this were the first time I consumed any 'Avatar: The Last Airbender' media and 'The Rift' trilogy was my first introduction to their friendship - I would have honestly doubted they were close at all. I mean throughout the three issues what we get from them is: unresolved discord; Aang continuously ignoring her feelings and moody disposition whilst more interested in his Air Acolytes and girlfriend; Aang defending a Rough Rhino that had just tried to slash Toph and scold her for protecting herself; Aang ignoring her very existence when she had just passed out unconscious... etc.

Yah, Bryke, you really nailed their friendship.

If you can't tell that's sarcasm, it is. Because this doesn't come close to touching the deep connection between these two - one built from mutual respect and trust; A bond so strong that Aang guaranteed Toph that it would transcend lifetimes - a prospect that gave Toph a certain relief and comfort. They trusted one another with their lives, fought together and understood each other without speaking a single word. They balanced one another - Aang learnt to become stronger, self-assured and resilient whilst Toph learnt to trust and depend on others. Fate brought them together - Toph was what Aang needed and Aang was what Toph needed.

Aang represented freedom. Toph represented security and strength.

Push and pull.

Air and Earth.

Aang and Toph.

Anyway, things do start to get much better in the final of the trilogy, starting off with these panels:

FINALLY SOME GOOD CHARACTERIZATION!

IT ONLY TOOK THREE ISSUES BUT WE FINALLY GET SOME DECENT CHARACTERIZATION!

AND AANG PROTECTS TOPH? PUTS HIS OWN MORALS ON THE LINE TO PROTECT HER???

YES!!!!!

A round of applause for Bryke - they failed 90% of their characterization but they outdid themselves with the remaining 10%! It's like what I said earlier - Toph and Aang are capable of putting their squabbles and altercations aside because, at the end of the day, their friendship is far too important to one another. They can fight, scream, shout, lose themselves in battle but when time need be, they always protect one another, they always have each other's back.

Push and pull.

Air and Earth.

Aang and Toph.

I'll just leave this page here. I want to glue this page into my brain and just think that this was the entire comic - just Taang hugging it out with the sunshine illuminating them, watching over the sea because they are in love and live happily ever after together. That is the plot of 'The Rift' from now on.

Before I end - I would like to briefly touch on Toph and Satoru's relationship and why I genuinely dislike them as potential love interests.

It starts by the obvious. Their is an inequality in their feelings for one another. On one hand, we can ponder whether Toph grew to view Satoru romantically (though, in this comic it was never eluded to on her end - it was, again, very forcibly introduced with her lying for him but then never mentioned and we never got many romantic coded scenes between). On the other hand, Satoru seems to worship the very ground that Toph walks on - he adores her, confides his past with her and obviously has very intense emotions regarding Toph. It's imbalanced and I just don't see the appeal.

One of the central themes of ATLA is balance and harmony, the push and pull - it's one of the reasons why Zutara (and Taang) would have been narratively more cohesive with the themes present in the show than the canon couples (with the exception of Sukka), because both these ships have an unspoken equilibrium and respect that isn't present in the aforementioned canon couples.

Another note is, I don't really understand the point of Satoru's character in this comic. He really didn't have that much to work it and his personality lacked nuances, humanity. It was very animated and boring. He didn't play off of Toph's playfulness, their dialogue was odd (cringey at times), they had no chemistry, it was very one-sided with Satoru confiding his past and hardships whilst he never once got any fragility from Toph.

It also felt as though they shoe-horned him into the comic just so people would get off their backs about Lin and Suyin's biological father - with Kanto being the confirmed father to Lin, they potentially wanted to introduce Satoru so we, as the fans, could speculate that Suyin's was his daughter. It's just a thought - but it is interesting that they made Satoru share similar physical traits with Suyin (such as: hair texture and skin tone).

And thus, I conclude the analysis of 'The Rift' what an infuriating journey this one was. I hope you enjoyed, the next comic I'll dissect will possibly be 'North and South' as Toph does play a big role in that comic (and I remember also not being too overjoyed with her characterization there).

Until next time, take care and please let me know what you thought of this analysis!!

[canonmisogynyvictimstournament]

PROPAGANDA

ELEKTRA NATCHIOS (MARVEL COMICS)

1.) Elektra was created by the misogynist himself, Frank Miller, who would write female characters like garbage including her. Throughout her entire existence within a majority of Daredevil comics, Elektra has been treated as a character made to be a trophy for Matt Murdock. Daredevil writers love making her life revolve around Matt in a way that its framed as romantic when the reality of their relationship should be framed as a tragedy due to their conflicting ideals (and in my honest opinion, I think she should start hating him).

Frank Miller’s Man Without Fear completely butchers Elektra’s character by changing her character to this “crazy woman with voices in her head who loves to kill anyone and anything” completely shitting on the original backstory of her being a sheltered rich girl who was very kind and sweet until her father’s death that shattered her hopes and dreams, leading her to become vengeful and turn into an assassin who believes that all she’s good at is killing and that she can’t ever live a happy normal life.

[…]

And of course thanks to the mcu, that influenced current Daredevil writer Chip Zdarsky, who ruins her character EVEN MORE by trying to follow up on the MWF backstory AND make it align with the mcu version as well to this spy that was sent by the Hand to purposely seduce Matt just like how mcu Stick did in the show. Zdarsky writes Elektra in a way that ruins her character completely and makes her infantalize/belittle Matt by calling him naive and foolish despite in previous incarnations where she UNDERSTANDS why Matt wouldn’t follow in her footsteps and wouldn’t kill and WOULD NEVER TRY TO CONVINCE HIM OTHERWISE (and Zdarsky made her fetishize Matt’s blindness in a way in which she would never do if she was in character). Zdarsky made her stop her ways JUST FOR MATT and then writes Matt to constantly disrespect her and call her a murderer despite in previous iterations where he WOULDN’T DO THAT AND ALSO UNDERSTANDS WHY SHE’S LIKE THIS WITHOUT CHANGING HER. (Zdarsky wrote everyone OOC in his run but the most who suffered from it is def Matt and Elektra). Then Zdarsky made Elektra become Daredevil which yeah, the suit is cool, but the implications of it sucks as Daredevil is not an identity that anyone can pick up on like Spider-Man. Daredevil is explicitly an identity that Matt took up bc of the injustice his father received after his murder along with the desire to protect the victims of the justice system. Elektra is a foil to Matt so her uprising as Elektra wouldn’t align with becoming Daredevil. How he framed it was essentially on par of a woman taking up the husband’s last name but so much worse. Elektra as Daredevil doesn’t work because it completely erases her identity as Elektra and further pushes the idea that she only exists to serve as Matt’s trophy, as his pain, as his wife, as his tragedy, etc etc.

Not a single male Daredevil writer should ever LOOK at Elektra ever again until they know how to write her because she has been done so dirty and receives misogyny on EVERY SINGLE ASPECT OF HER EXISTENCE. There’s only been a few times where Elektra’s been done well and a lot of them had Matt be involved very little in it and it really makes you think.

2.) Both show and fandom perperativing the sexist and racist troupe of a dragon lady: overt sexual and physical aggression, untrustworthiness, and mysteriousness. The fandom is notorious for saying Elektra is toxic, instead of recognizes she’s an abuse victim working for her abuser. More often that not, all nuance is thrown out the window

(Comics and show) Killed for Matt’s(Daredevil’s) pain/fridged

3.) Constantly mischaracterized and used as a prop for Matt Murdock/Daredevil, especially in the case of his netflix series and his ongoing comics written by Chip Zdarksy (where she is so intensely out of character she’s almost unrecognizable, and in the case of the current Daredevil run parts of her origin story have even been heavily retconned to more closely resemble her Netflix counterpart which is. Oh my fucking god its infuriating.) But it’s an issue really like half the time she shows up in any given daredevil comic (im being generous)

ABBIE MILLS (SLEEPY HOLLOW) (CW: Racism)

1.) Abbie starts out as one of the two protagonists of the show, only to get almost entirely sidelined as early as season 2, getting less and less screen time and allowed no relationships, either platonic or romantic, while the other lead Ichabod Crane has a seemingly infinite amount of them. It got bad enough that her actor wanted to leave the show, which they did by having her sacrifice her soul in the season 3 finale for the male lead to live, and then they ended the show after season 4 anyway, because guess what, it’s a bad idea to entirely sideline and eventually kill off one of your leads!

2.) She was killed by the narrative to advance her white male co-protagonist’s plotline and I’m still mad about it, Abbie deserved so much better. This is an example of racism in the narrative too and it extended to the production of the show, see news coverage:

3.) Look, I only watched the first season but they killed her off the show SHE was a co lead of!! Misogyny AND racism, all rolled into one. I remember seeing the fan reactions and I was so mad on their behalfs. They wrote her off her own show and from what I recall, gave her less and less screentime leading up to that. Truly, she deserved so much better and I will always be upset by this.

[joleneghoul]

This is going to be less of an essay and more of a disorganized infodump where I just ramble about my favorite character Rip has a relationship with and that's Jeff Smith.

I actually find Jeff to be more important to Rip's entire story and character background than Booster. There will also be some mentions of Bonnie because the Rip, Jeff & Bonnie dynamic is pretty important.

Though partially that is because the erasure of Jeff is what has made Rip such a boring character to read within post 90s Booster Gold stuff.

Jeff Smith is probably one of my favorite characters nobody really knows about and comics forgot about (until recently, but I'll get to that).

To sum it up quickly, Jeff is Rip Hunter's partner in the broad sense of the term. He was Rip's mechanic, his best friend, his scientific other half, and even once a cowboy (howdy).

More under the cut because this info-dump got long!

Jeff was Rip's partner from Rip's first ever appearance in showcase #20 and stuck with him onward to the 90s. While the stories had Rip's name on them, Rip and Jeff were postured as more of a duo than otherwise.

Bonnie and her brother Corky were along for the story but not as front and center as Jeff and Rip, hell even the story starts with Rip telling them to stay home while him and Jeff test their time machine by going on a jaunt to the prehistoric together.

The time sphere was first and foremost a creation of Jeff and Rip's scientific and mechanical prowess put together. I find it more interesting this way than if Rip were some sort of solo genius.

Later within the Rip Hunter series from the 60s-70s Jeff Still plays the role of Rip's partner, even saving Rip's life multiple times over. A characteristic that is strengthened as time goes on with Jeff is that he is the more calculated and thoughtful one of the pair. This remains the case in the Time Masters 1991 series.

Jeff, much like everyone gets a redesign for this series and a bit more heft to his character motives/personality. This is a series (while not good) that follows a linear story line instead of a collection of adventures so it was needed. I honestly only reread issues of this series for Jeff because I like the way him and Rip's relationship is handled here, as it strengthens the fact that pushing others away can only hurt everyone involved and being alone can be worse than your fears.

He is introduced not only as Rip's partner but his best friend. According to Rip, Jeff is one of his only close friends on account of his obsessive personality. A lot of Rip's own characterization in my opinion mirrors someone who has OCD. His obsession becoming stopping what he saw the future became while in Booster Gold vol 1. Hell...Will Magnus tells him he's paranoid.

Specifically I think the relationship Rip has to his paranoia and fears vs the relationships he has with others is really interesting. This, while comes up with Rip's relationship to Bonnie, is shown mostly with his connection to Jeff.

Jeff throughout the series is the one to break through to Rip even as he pushes others away at everyone's expense. This is shown in the start when Jeff breaks Rip out of spiraling overthinking, bringing him back with his logical thinking. Then all the way to the end when Jeff comes up with the idea of how to fix the time sphere, while Rip was caught up in his own paranoia and had at that point pushed everyone else away or caused them to leave him.

ALSO Jeff has to tell Rip to trust BOOSTER, who in retrospect is Rip's father. I just find that interesting.

Now, I'm going to be talking about subtext which is just how I interpreted things not saying they were intentional but it's just what I picked up on. Also I have a lot to say about how Bonnie is treated I really hate it because she's so disrespected when shes supposed to be equals to Rip but- a rant for another time ig.

The relationship between Jeff, Bonnie, and Rip (and Cave but not really tbh) are at the forefront of the interpersonal drama. It's worth mentioning that every scene Bonnie has romantically with a man (like Jeff or Cave) is mirrored immediately with Jeff and Rip. Specifically usually when Bonnie struggling with her own relationships vs when Jeff and Rip are coming together.

There is when Jeff shows up to Rip's office in a green trench coat (not pictured in this panel bc he took it off) and sits on Rip's desk to tell him he'll be his partner. Then within the same issue Bonnie in her green trench coat trying to seduce Cave (who is HER scientific partner) by getting on his desk- but then getting rejected.

Then again when Jeff chooses to leave Bonnie (in bed) to go be with Rip VS the end of that issue when Rip solemnly makes the choice to leave Jeff (in bed) to go chase his own hubris. (later we see Bonnie make the choice to steal the time sphere and go live in the future and make her own life teaching people post nuclear war, thank god she didn't end up with any of these men after all that)

Also side note- When Jeff and Rip go to ancient Atlantis together that's practically the first time in issues we see either of them really happy since like, issue 2. The only thing that tips Rip off is once again when someone brings up his paranoia. Also they get these gay earrings.

Anyways at the end because Rip ends up alone, without Jeff who was his only close friend, Rip realizes that time changes everything and to not be so worried about the literal end of the world- and that hopefully in time even he can change and be a better person to others.

....WHICH I feel is totally ignored and thrown away later on when Rip returns as Boosters son and Jeff was erased from the picture entirely (Bonnie still managed some appearances in other media but Jeff did not- not even in lot so I've heard..which is odd because that was inspired BY time masters). Rip became characterized as the lone mysterious savant who always has a plan (or can easily figure one out).

Despite the reader knowing his secret that he is Booster's son, we do not tend to get to see much of their family relationship since Rip is more shown as a mentor than anything else. Otherwise Rip is used as a narrative device for stories to bring in a little time travel spice if Booster or that one treadmill isn't available.

I actually find the more interesting Booster and Rip interactions being the ones where Rip is shown to be overwhelmed, in the wrong, or confused instead of the "guy who knows everything". Sadly we don't get to see this often.

Jeff after over 30 years has come back to comics but not in a way I really like, he just doesn't feel like himself at all but neither does any of the time masters. We haven't seen him much yet but I'm just not excited because the reason we have this "loner" characterization of Rip still is because of the same writer who's bringing them back- and yet again its a case of "Rip is running around alone" "ah that's just Rip". Like I thought we went over why that's bad for him LOL.

Anyways I guess the moral of this infodump/rant is this:

FUN FACT TIME:

Jeff and Rip met at MIT where they were both top of their classes!

He is as smart as Rip who is classified officially as a super-genius.

Jeff according to the DC ttrpg books is as wealthy as Ted Kord was when he was still apart of Kord industries.

He also apparently has connections to the Metal Men and Magnus still while Rip does not.

[ssreeder]

HI HELLO!! I JUST FINISHED “Into the Fire” A COUPLE DAYS AGO!!

I would say my thoughts about it but I have too many thoughts but I also don’t wanna fill your asks with 20 million anons so,

after I finished it I decided to re-read from LIAB and bro…

That shit broke me.

The way you perfectly constructed sokka’s arc, like I swear everything was intentional

He literally went from “it took years for him to get comfortable killing” to “he was always so good with people, that’s was before he started killing them” and from “if he felt a way about something he would most definitely share it” to literally hiding everything that happened to him from people he trusts. Wow.

Once again, absolutely amazed by your incredible writing skills, like actually impeccable.

Enough of me being philosophical,

YOU GAVE BATO A BF!!! HE CAN FINALLY GET OVER HIS HIGH SCHOOL CRUSH!!! AND JEE GETS TO BE HAPPY!!! AAAAHHH!! I’m so happy for them (ik they aren’t even an item yet but still, super happy for them)

Hooray for Ara!! She got her closure, and now she can start a new, healthier, happier lifestyle. Congratulations to my favorite violent dog!! May she get what she deserves (ominous)

But the way she just.. told Katara about zukka being together?? Like, no hesitation.

“Whoops, thought you were banging my brother. Sorry lol.”

“No lmao it’s okay. Zuko’s deff banging him though”

“WHAT?!”

“Yeah lol. Toodles!!”

And then she just- LEAVES?? honestly mood though.

i liked how sweet and genuine she sounded when explaining zukka’s love story though, that was so good of her, she didn’t even talk them down or anything. It was actually so nice.

Can’t wait to see what you do for Jet, really really hope my little street rat gets better. on agni we gonna get you some will to live!!

So many exciting things happening I can’t wait!!

-suki closure!!

-TOPH AND SOKKA BONDING!!!

-IROH AND SOKKA’S TEA TALK!!!!!

literally have said this a million times but actually super scared for sokka for the last bit (zhao tea talks usually didn’t go well)

But I also feel like ur gonna make that an iroh pov… (I’m an empath) so I’ll stay tuned!!

Yue and La bless my favorite water tribe man Hakoda! He loves his kids so much I hope nothing bad happens to them (this is gonna be foreshadowing isn’t it?)

But anyways!!

I wanted to finally tell you about music!!

It’s gonna be a lot of mitski cus she’s one of my main artists I listen to but still,

I thought about “once more to see you” by mitski A LOT throughout RIA and a little bit now through ITF, it fits this part of the story perfectly (in my opinion). It’s literally just zukka through sokka’s pov.

Another one is “Christmas Kids” by ROAR, this one is more for LIAB, and a little bit of RIA, (can you tell I make the edits in my head?) But this time the choruses/verses change pov or can just be seen as multiple characters.

“First Love/Late Spring” by mitski fits zukka through zuko’s pov

And “I bet on loosing dogs” by mitski is Ara with zhao/shen

Now this one is very specific:

“Vampire Empire” by Big Thief

The first verse to the first chorus is LIAB-RIA kataang through aang’s thoughts about katara,

the second verse to the second chorus is zukka LIAB-RIA (and now more recently the current ITF situation) told as per sokka’s pov

And the third verse to the final chorus is how Ara feels about zhao. Like their entire history.

Okay that’s it sorry for bombarding you with my random ass disorganized ask 😭 I’ve been yapping too much, I know, I sound like Reho. Sorry if I said anything disrespectful!!

Anyway!! Can’t wait for the next update!! STAY SUPER DUPER AMAZING SSREEDER!!!

HI ANON WHO I ADORE & LOVE SO MUCH I AM SO SORRY FOR TAKING 10000 YEARS TO ANSWER THIS. (In my defense it’s a perfect 10/10 ask and I couldnt let it go right away<3)

I AM SO SO SO SO SO SOOOOOO happy you enjoyed sokkas arc because damn, I really dismantled him throughout the series and the way you highlighted some of the details about sokka pre prison and how he did a drastic 180 is *CHEFS KISS* yeahhhhhh it was a long process but I’m glad you noticed the intentional dedication I had to ruining our boy sokka <3 (i know I know he’s not ruined but he’s not in a great spot mentally but he’s getting better but hell regress and progress and regress and yeah sokkas just not the same I mean but we will love him and he’s still our SOKKA)

JEE DID GET HIMSELF A BOY FRAND… He is smitten with our boy Bato it’s cute.

Ara is hilarious that’s all I gotta say about her haha.

JET!!!!! I love him!!! He’s not the besttttt influence on Suki but FUCK IT JET IS AWESOME (don’t expect any life changing shit from him but I’m excited that he’ll stay a part of the story) sorry Jet haters he’s staying in LIAB till death does us part of the story ends haha.

oh shit you sent this ask before the last chapter was dropped so now you know ITS AN IROH AND ZUKO TEA TALK (& let me tell you HAAAAA… they’re wonderful in a room together haha)

I was trying to listen to all your songs before I answered your ask but I couldn’t get through all of them, but I will!! I love that you are so passionate about music and the scenes and characters I feel the same way and that’s why I always try to give you songs I’m vibing with lol.

THANK YOU AGAIN ANON AND PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DONT BE SHY COME BACK ANY TIME I LOVE YOUR ASK!!!!

[ronearoundblindly]

A Forced, Fresh Start (3/3)

Steve Rogers x Super Soldier!Reader

Dénouer (see previous or series)

Warnings: a painful/disturbing process that reads like torture but is a chosen treatment, arguments, angst, fear of the future, illusions to past Hydra abuse, and implied smut. This work is entirely 18+, sorry, kiddos. MINORS DNI for this tale! WC 4k

Summary: Autumn is deprogrammed in Wakanda.

Anticipation is part of the problem.

That’s why Bucky left you and Steve in the dark about the deprogramming process. If you knew how the Wakandans would break your conditioning, you might fight it, or rather, fight it more than your mind and body already will. You might trick yourself into thinking you’re healed. You might bury the words deeper because you are trained to protect them, to obey them, to keep them bound to you, to keep you bound to them.

But knowing an attack is coming and knowing what the moves are…those are different beasts.

“Is that really necessary,” Steve blurts while two Dora Milaje follow Ayo’s instruction to strap you down to a similar machine to the Hydra and compound chairs.

The women simply continue from your wrists to your ankles before a thick belt lashes your torso against the seat.

Steve stares at your shaking hands.

“She’s volunteering,” he reminds, heading toward Ayo who waits behind a console reading your vitals.

“Captain Rogers, you are an observer here,” she pointedly reminds, “a guest.”

Steve wouldn’t dare disrespect the warrior, Wakandan or not. This is a favor. They do not have to help you, but they are out of deference to him and your situation.

“Steve,” you call, though it wafts around like a whisper.

He’s by your side again instantly.

“Rosie, I’ll be right here the whole time.”

“Did Buck ever tell you how long this took?”

Steve shakes his head. “I don’t think they went this—“ his gaze rolls over the room “—intensely with his, but we’ll get through it, ok?” He grabs the tips of your fingers around the armrest’s end. “It’ll get easier, and then you’ll be free.”

His smile doesn’t reach his eyes, but you’d be shocked if such a bad liar could manage that kind of naivety.

Ayo barks for him to move. It’s time to start.

Day one only establishes your baseline, which is good because you and Steve only landed in the quintet two hours ago after a long flight.

Ayo reads out your words, and you change. They wake you. Ayo reads all of your words but the tenth, and you signal when the crawling under your skin subsides. You still change when she recites ‘enchaîné.’ They wake you again. Even after a twenty-eight-minute gap, the word still works, so Ayo begins once more, waiting slightly longer from when the crawling stops to finish the sequence.

You don’t change. The Soldier doesn’t wake.

It’s not foolproof, however, and throughout the long afternoon of words and waiting, you have to be jolted back to yourself nearly a dozen times. You’re exhausted and practically immobile by the time Steve gets you both back to your hut, letting Maple in from her run with the goats.

“You need food,” he mutters, almost to himself, as he gathers anything edible to offer you. He says he’ll plan better tomorrow. He’ll have things ready.

For now, it’s clear that you are in no state to go out in search of a meal, and he refuses to leave your side. Steve allows you to eat so little only because he can see fatigue weighing on your shoulders. He fills numerous containers with water, setting them close to you, ready throughout the night, then helps you change for bed.

You don’t say much. You can barely speak.

Steve has to wash your face by hand, scrubbing at the crusting streaks down your cheeks from old (and new) tears.

“Ok, sweetheart, it’s time to rest.”

This is the first night you two will share a room since the incident, and as excited as you are to be near him, your whole being is a frayed, live wire. So far, you’ve had just enough caring touch to not be overwhelmed. He’s not wrong; you should rest before the scale tips you toward panic. 

No chances are taken. The only way Steve feels absolutely comfortable sleeping beside you is for you to wear foam earplugs and for him to wear an actual muzzle over his face. In fact, he wears a recovered mask from Bucky’s restraints when he was the Winter Soldier. It serves its purpose. Steve can’t speak.

Without both safeties, he can’t be sure he won’t activate you again. You both know he will never forgive himself if he repeats that mistake. It’s been hard enough to convince him that having a dream is not his fault. He couldn’t control it any more than you could control your reaction.

You’re here on the other side of the planet to change that, you remind yourself. His masked face and your deprived sense are temporary. The pain of the process is temporary.

The lasting impact on your lives? Unknown.

Tonight, though. Tonight you get to sleep in Steve’s arms again.

Day two.

The least distance between each trigger word is tested.

Avant-guard, Quatre, Larmes, Mer, Vigne, Charmante, Fin, Trente, Négligeable, Enchaîné.

You are kept buzzing on the cusp of activation for sixteen hours and receive another nine jolts to wake you. You are testy, fighting not to lash out at Steve’s incessant babying.

“What can I get you? What do you need? What can I do?”

You have a restless night, fearful of the next session.

Day three.

Avant-guard, Quatre, Larmes, Mer, Vigne, Charmante, Fin, Trente, Négligeable, Enchaîné.

You’re being whittled down to bone by the repetition. Your only reward is the quiet, foggy respite of watching the room through her eyes before you’re woken again and again.

Ayo holds a conversation in front of you with General Okoye that peppers in all of your words, hundreds of extra phrases in between, and it still changes you.

Body fine but mind in tatters, you charge through the entrance of your hut fuming with no outlet.

“What can I get you? What do you need? What can I do?”

You struggle to keep down food. You fight sleep until it swallows you.

Somewhere in those few hours, you had a nightmare, Steve mentions over breakfast, one where you spoke rapid-fire Russian and didn’t respond to his or Maple’s attempts to soothe you. All you know is that 'tired' doesn’t cover the feeling inside you.

Day four.

Avant-guard, Quatre, Larmes, Mer, Vigne, Charmante, Fin, Trente, Négligeable, Enchaîné.

You cry whenever a single one of them is spoken out of context. Ayo says them out of order, but your body seizes and hums with anticipation anyway. Eventually, the hum never stops.

You’re drained and flattened, rolled out and stretched so thin the daylight peeks right through you, and yet, you keep going.

You can’t stomach food at all, already full of bile and rage and pent up annoyance. You are living the nightmares now. You are dependent on ten words. They simply threatened to control your life before; now they enslave you every waking minute of the day.

“What can I get you? What do you need? What can I do?”

Part of you wants to strangle him, but instead, you grip Steve like a vice as the big spoon for entire night, sleeping or awake.

Day five.

You are broken finally but not in a good way.

The treatment calls for the repetition of all but the last word. You stay suspended in the warning buzz of activation, your body fighting in favor of transition solely for a respite. It hurts. You feel sick, but the change can’t happen without the last word. It’s like being dangled over a cliff and left waiting for the frayed rope to snap.

If only you had a knife…but would you cut the cord, cut your restraints, or…?

There’s no room for coherent thought while your brain fights and flies at the same time. Fear collides with the empty euphoria changing brings, if only for a second. Resistance dances with prepared obedience. Every real and fake memory you have replays at once.

All day. All night.

Ayo has different people come in to say the nine words, rotating throughout the hours in shifts because Steve refuses to be part of it.

Avant-guard, Quatre, Larmes, Mer, Vigne, Charmante, Fin, Trente, Négligeable.

Repeat.

Avant-guard, Quatre, Larmes, Mer, Vigne, Charmante, Fin, Trente, Négligeable.

Repeat.

Avant-guard, Quatre, Larmes, Mer, Vigne, Charmante, Fin, Trente, Négligeable.

Steve snaps, but you still argue with him to let it happen. Something has to happen.

It gets to the point you’re begging for them to just say the last word in any language you know. You shout the last word to yourself, but it can’t work on you. In a last ditch effort, you plead with Steve.

It comes out as a hateful growl. “Say the fucking word or go!”

The Soldier should be suffering, not you. You’re trying to kill her. You want her to die. He doesn’t have the instinct to kill. He doesn’t have the balls to torture you to make it better.

With heavy, downturned brows, Steve agrees that he can’t do it and leaves.

He’s only gone for a few minutes to feed himself and Maple. 

Another several hours go by, and Steve is visibly agitated. He advocates for your comfort more and more as the day drags on, escalating from gentle suggestions to fervent requests to belligerent demands. By then he insists—yelling a tirade of everything but curses directly in Ayo’s face—that you be left time to recover. You are half-grateful and half-annoyed by his attitude.

His arguing delays getting on with the bad bits so you can make real progress, and each time he laments how tired you are or how weak the treatment makes you, you believe it, too. If he doesn’t think you can take it, maybe you can’t, maybe you will never be rid of the Soldier, maybe you’ll always be haunted by the horrors of Hydra.

Ayo relents, keeping her sharp gaze on you as Steve unstraps you from the chair and guides you outside.

He’s allowed to walk you through the village square, though why they still describe it as a village is beyond you. Wakanda is an amazing mix of past, present, and future (or at least, it’s futuristic), and their local centers of commerce are no different. Steve was right to think a distraction would help.

The hustle and bustle of normal life washes over you. It grounds you in reality while lifting your soul up with hope.

One day, you’ll have this. You’ll begin again. You’ll be normal. You’ll start fresh. One day, the pain will be worth it. One day, you won’t even remember the anticipation, much less feel it race beneath every square inch of your skin. You won’t be a slave to ten simple words.

That future is hard to fathom while strapped to a chair, even voluntarily, but the man holding you—the man by your side through all this—has faith you can do this. Steve thinks you’re strong, and you believe him.

Stalls with food and fabrics line every alley. Bright colors rain down from every surface and coat every corner.

Smiling faces. Animated faces. Two-sided conversations are everywhere. They listen to each other. They’re all choosing how to spend their day, their lives. They aren’t afraid of the words being spoken. It’s wonderful. It’s downright magical compared to your cooped-up existence in the compound.

And then some children bolt across your path.

It startles you. You gasp, so focused on what else there is to see that you truly did not notice them, enhanced senses and all.

A mother steps forward to scold the kids, and Steve’s grip on you tightens.

He starts pulling you away. You don’t understand why.

“I’m ok. It’s fine. I was just caught off guard.” It’s not as if you broke someone’s nose again, and none of these children can suspend themselves from ceilings like Peter Parker can.

“We should go,” Steve replies through a tight jaw.

You glance back over your shoulder and finally get it.

The woman is pregnant, a mother in every sense, round and proud as she should be, and that’s when it dawns on you.

Steve doesn’t think you’re strong.

He assumes the mere sight of children or an expectant woman will shock you—upset you even—and doesn’t care to ask. He keeps leading you away, faster and faster until you’re shut back into the treatment room.

Heaven forbid you be far from your chair. How dare you watch the average life of a human. You don’t belong there.

“Let go of me,” you shriek, ripping your arm from Steve’s grasp. “I said I’m fine.”

“I thought—” he tries.

“I know what you thought, Steve, but I’m not going to freak out seeing a mother!”

“We’re not there yet in the—“

“They are just kids. Playing kids.”

“—we haven’t tested—“

“I am not a prototype weapon, Steve. I know what people look like versus targets.”

He raises his voice then, eyes fiery. “WE DON’T KNOW THAT,” but Steve immediately cowers to correct himself. “Not until this is finished.”

That’s it, isn’t it? He doesn’t actually know if he can trust you. He doesn’t know what the fragile, broken thing in front of him is, and he’s tired of waiting for you to show him. He’s impatient and exhausted, just like you. He doesn’t want to sleep in a muzzle anymore. He wants his own home back. You’re the one prolonging this.

Except you’re not.

“Then let me finish it,” you bite back. “Quit stopping Ayo every time she pushes me. That’s the point.”

“Rosie, you don’t have to—“

“—I DO HAVE TO. I do have to be pushed and in pain and screaming and crying and whatever it takes.”

“Not like that. You don’t need to torture yourself.”

“She has to DIE,” you burst, feeling a fire in your belly that threatens to consume you. “The Soldier has to die, Steve, and if you can’t watch it, then don’t. You don’t have to be here.”

Dejected, his arms go limp and he looks from you to the Dora Milaje waiting patiently by the chair. He looks about to argue until his eyes find your furious face and twisted features again.

“You’re right,” he admits softly. “I can’t.”

Steve leaves through the same door he rushed you through.

He’s waiting at the hut when you finally return, sitting at the foot of the bed with Maple resting against his lap.

He’s sorry.

Steve tells you to take a break and rest. What happens if you push yourself too far and stretch too thin? You don’t look well. Because you are sick. Because you need treatment and that’s what this is. He’s worried. The whole point is for this to be safe.

Maybe he only likes you because you’re fragile and dainty, but you can’t stand to be those things anymore. You don’t want to be weak. This isn’t going to work if he hopes you’ll be the same person without her in your head.

“Do you even want me to get better?”

“Of course,” Steve shifts back, offended.

A bitter taste floods your mouth. “Then stop sabotaging me.”

“You wanted me here,” he bites like a wounded puppy.

A darkness unrelated to the day’s pain follows, something deeper and disturbed. “Then maybe that was her, and she wants you. You want her. You fucked her.”

“You don’t mean that, Rosie. You know that’s not true.”

“Neither of us knows who I am without her, so if you won’t let me go through this to get rid of her, maybe she is who you want.”

“I love you,” he blurts simply, heavily.

“That’s just it. You don’t know me, Steve. Stop trying to control me like they did.”

You couldn’t hurt him more, not even with all the blades and points of your garden tools, yet you relish someone hurting other than you. There’s been so much pain forced on you. It feels good to share though it shouldn’t.

“So I just go,” he muses, leaving you unable to tell whether that was a statement or a question.

“You should be able to make your own choices…as should I.”

“Well, if my being here isn’t helpful…”

While he hesitates, you choose for him. His protection only shelters the Soldier. He should go.

You have to embrace the change coming and let go of all the rest. Right now, that includes Steve Rogers, no matter what that means for the two of you in the long run.

It hurts to hold steady to your choice, but what great burden is that drop of pain in this ocean of misery?

Your beautiful dog comes to your side, giving you strength.

“Maple stays.”

Week six.

Each moment has been a test of your free will. The tears and struggle don’t make you doubt your decision, but they stop you from reaching out.

Does he hate you? Will he be there when you return? Are you welcome in your home? Do you have a home anymore?

Being alone, picking your path forward, knowing you can do anything and go anywhere…you can’t remember the last time you felt this, or if you ever have.

“Avant-guard. Quatre. Larmes. Mer. Vigne. Charmante. Fin. Trente. Négligeable. Enchaîné.”

Spoken back-to-back—no breaks, no hesitation, all the way to the end—and nothing happens.

The emptiness is blissful. You are not banished to a corner of your own mind. The air in your lungs is yours to breathe. Your trembling hands are yours to hold.

You’ve been on the cusp of this moment for the last eight days. It’s here.

Ayo’s announcement that you are free pierces through the ecstatic rush of blood past your ears.

Today is Day One in the life of Autumn Rose Barnes, and you are alone. Free and alone.

There’s no pomp or ceremony. You take the next transport to the States, packing what little is left in your hut and ordering Maple to your side. She hates the flight, but that gives you an excuse to cling to her thick fur for the hours-long trip. You desperately try not to form expectations for seeing Steve.

All you have to show for your behavior is you, only you, and it’s bittersweet.

Are you enough?

You feel so horrible for making him go—though his absence was necessary—and apprehension swirls around your empty stomach.

It’s all a mess. You thought all this was messy because of Hydra, but it’s just…life.

You used to know that. Faintly. Somewhere, way back when, you knew, but you’ve punished yourself for being the cause anyway.

Life is just messy.

Maple thrashes during landing, ready to escape, and you can’t blame her. You feel the same.

It’s time. You’re here.

Bag over your shoulder, knuckles blanched in your death grip on the strap, you step off the ramp with your eyes glued to your feet, and instantly, boots pop into view.

Blue jeans, a black sweater, and a bright smile greet you.

“Hi, I’m Steve Rogers,” he says, sticking out a large hand for you to shake.

It takes you by surprise. He’s joining you, meeting you exactly where you are, and starting over.

You put your hand in his, riled almost to tears at the warmth and comfort of that simple contact.

“Well, that’s funny,” you begin softly. “That’s her last name.”

You tick your head to Maple who steps up on Steve’s shoe to look straight into his adoring gaze. As an afterthought, you add your name.

“What a coincidence—“ he plays along “—that’s my best friend’s last name.” Steve lets your hand slide from his. “Must be fate.”

“Must be,” you whisper back.

He’s not so sold on the act when he squats to pet Maple. She happily licks his hand and face, accepting any and all rubs and butt pats, whining when he addresses her as ‘Maymay’ (as only Steve does).

She barks excitedly when Steve rises, reaching out again.

“May I take your bag, Rosie? Um, if it’s okay to call you that…”

You look down again to hide a quivering lip and hand over the duffel. “I’d like that.”

Bucky is outside the landing pad, beaming with open arms and a cheeky line. “He’s insufferable when you’re not here. Never leave again!” 

You jump to hug him, not caring to continue any game of formality.

You rumple Bucky’s hair while Steve grumbles, “jerk.”

Bucky hugs you, too, pinning you tight to his broad chest. “Punk,” he replies directly into your shoulder then mutters an additional, “I’m proud of you. Welcome back.”

Steve politely walks you to the door of your old private apartment, the one you moved out of once you two got together, the one you returned to after the incident two months ago. It feels as cold and lonely as the holding cells downstairs.

You stare at the threshold, blank, nervous, and resigned. You did prepare for this, but the reality is unbearable.

“Something wrong?”

You listen for a hopeful tone, an invitation in his words, but Steve schools his voice well.

“No, I…I…” You turn to face him, wide eyes exposing every raw bit of your soul. “I’d like to come home.”

“You are home,” he offers slowly, waiting. He’s done assuming. Steve is going to make you say it.

“That room is not my home.” You keep staring, your brain screaming so loudly you think perhaps he can hear.

He is still your home. If he’ll have you, he is the only home that matters.

While you chicken out of saying that, Maple saunters down the hall straight to Steve’s door, pawing at the entry when her parents don’t follow.

“Right,” Steve sighs with a soft smile, “can’t keep my girls waiting. You’re both probably tired.”

You kick yourself, watching ever-patient Steve walk you into his space like you have earned your place here again. He deserves to know, but the words are stuck in your throat, sharp and too impactful for their confines.

You try to open your mouth. You try to push forward.

Steve beats you to the punch.

His door shuts behind you, bag dropped on the floor, Maple off like a shot to her cozy spot on the couch, and suddenly Steve crowds you against the wall.

“Don’t ever make me go again,” he growls low, intense without aggression. “I need you. I want you. This is where I belong, Rosie, please.”

His warm hands find your waist.

Your eyes dart from his to his lips. Heat creeps up your body, a hum, a buzz, anticipation.

This time it’s welcome; it’s exquisite and crumbling the walls around you.

The tension of his movement forward soothes you, pressing your head back, loosening your tongue.

“You are my ho—“

Steve’s lips crash into yours, heavy and insistent.

It’s a blur of limbs and moans all the way to the bed. You’re on a mission, both of you, a mission to prove you are equals in your devotion. You straddle him in the same bed, in the same position as that night, but Steve is wide awake and excited. Now, you are you and ready.

He doesn’t rush or take a backseat. He savors your touch and attention. Even when you pause, there’s a rush of unsaid praise between you. Needy kisses cover hushed apologies. Passionate, intimate connection blooms in the melding of your bodies.

You and Steve, home, yourselves, safe, and happy for the first time ever, a beginning to a whole new life. Both beautiful and built from great strife, you and Steve have helped each other in unexpected ways. You are both better for it. You are both better for each other when you let go of the pasts you think define you.

You can exist in your home, with no muzzle, no earplugs, and completely free. You promise yourself you'll eat and feed him right after some much-needed rest.

Comparatively short and sweet...in the end at least. I know that a lot of times we think of Steve as perfect, and of course, I am guilty of writing him that way at times because it is comforting. For this though, I wanted to highlight how being protective and being supportive are not always the same thing. Steve is so protective of Reader that you can't grow or heal without space, and that is naturally going to be incredibly difficult for Steve Rogers.

I hope you enjoyed this tale, and as always, comments, likes, and reblogs are much appreciated. Happy New Year, everyone!

[Series Masterlist; Main Masterlist]