#that image represents me being Concerned But Delighted

[chiptrillino]

How the hell do you find every accurate representative culture fashion for the avatar gang? Like it pains me the hell how people this good and hardworking can find these gorgeous cultural clothes and accessories and draw them so well and detailed like you- TELL ME YOUR SECRETS (Please)

idk about accurate. at the end it is still a fantasy world inspired by real life cultures contrasting or soothed out to fit a charakter personality and traits. listen if i spot an option to have a older fire lord zuko with his titts chest out i will go for it and nothing can stop me not even accuracy i say this as if i didn't already do it in private with seethrough material hahah

there is not much secrets behind it though, sorry its research, fact checking. often even the most random things. at least that is my method. you go to google and type in what you need and would like to know. read the wikipedia article for some general understanding on the topic but them go to the source part and check these out. or like double check these. if reading is not your thing there are lots of dedicated youtubers or ticktockers that love to share and explain parts of their culture or tradtions (clothing included. depends on what you research.) contemporary to that or after that you build up your visual library by collecting images on pinterest, or google or websites covering the topic you are researching. make your own folders or pin boards.

an amazing blog for atla real life culture sources is of course or beloved: @atlaculture blog!

https://www.tumblr.com/atlaculture who recently began to dedicate some post in flashing out more water tribe and air normad cusine, also instruments. its a delight to read through.

of course you have an easier time with some research than with other. some things are clear others a contradicting some are barley documented. it is also necessary to have an occasional reality check. like reread your sources see if there is something new. replace what you misunderstood before. don't always go for what looks pretty and aesthetically good to you. there is a reason why things looked like they did. was it the material, was it protection, was it culture.

a part looking at contemporary photography i personally preffere to look at how people liked to depict themself at that time. Statues, wall painting, illustration, old fotos from that time and compare them to current pictures to see how they used to stylize this element or to see what was essential to them. thats probably my old art-history phase flaring up again though hahah. at the end it is also how you Interpret and headcanon the atla world for yourself. before i were able to redesign jet i had to figure out how i want to draw fire nation armor. because to me jet repuporses a lot of the armor from the enemy. a shin guard will be used as an arm protection. the red shirt he wears is fire nation, a shoulder guard that fits will just be used as it is. i just assume that FN armor is better in being fire resistent than earth kingdoms ones.

but fire nation armor is a chellenge on its own again. because is it tang dynasty? is it song? but the collar protector is a typical thai armor element. how do i combine that? is there a history behind it?

speaking about armor what would be the southern water tribe one? if it is lamellar ivory armor, how and why does it look so different by season 3 at the day of the black sun? did the southern water fleet separated form their home begin to adopt EK styles. switching out kuspuk and parkas in for sleeveless wrap shirts and armor with inside plating like they have in ba sing se? because that what was aviable to them?

(appart everything the talk of armor is in general really curious because... what do you wear when you go in to fight against fire??? in the poles you can argure that it is not a concern. if you burn you roll in the snow but in the EK... hm.. they dont have fancy heat resistand clothing like fire fighters have now.... armor is ment to cushion off impact and or slicing. our standard armors conzept can work well against earth-, water- and air bending (to some degree) but fire burns what do you idealy do against that? leather helps to some degree)

while the southern water tribe is clearly circumpolar people inspired (although lacking lots of world-building which you can kind of excusing it with... the war destroyed everything but also... uh.... its a nearly 20 year old show.... ) the northern water tribe shows korean or even mongolian elements. so what do you want to focus on? i personally like to make things connect because these characters live in one world togheter and trade and exchange happens. (yes even during a 100 year war or at least there had to have been a time of influence and the lack of exchange froze(*snorts*) this culture in time) you know... migration? and transition of style and life through out history.

maybe i overthink things to much for just drawing some clothes... -srugs-

[tonydaddingham]

I was debating whether or not the Omelas theory and Crowley knowing Jesus would be relevant to S3. And then they released that set of pictures with not just Aziraphale as Mary, but Crowley as crucified Jesus: Arguably the ULTIMATE scapegoat. Thus tying my two questions together. Hmmm...

yours is the second ask ive gotten about those photos, anon (and other anon, i promise i will answer you!!!) and frankly i still don't fully know what to make of this!!!✨

i do think omelas is at the very least has or is going to have some general narrative influence or inspiration on GO, even if it's not even directly related to metatron's coffee order... in any case, im glad that it may feature because i remember loving it when i read it years ago! couple of favourite (and potentially relevant?) quotes, because why not:

"Their tears at the bitter injustice dry when they begin to perceive the terrible justice of reality, and to accept it."

"But to praise despair is to condemn delight, to embrace violence is to lose hold of everything else."

"Happiness is based on just discrimination of what is necessary, what is neither necessary nor destructive, and what is destructive."

as for crowley's part in it; well, im not sure. we know that in GO!canon that crowley essentially replaced the devil (as described in matthew, mark, luke etc.) as the tempter of jesus, in that he showed jesus the kingdoms of the world (ie. the third temptation and representative of tempting jesus into the dereliction of god). so, we could possibly surmise that crowley also tempted him into eating and into essentially killing himself to test god's love (by preventing it).

well, we know crowley has done those first two temptations before, right? even if the context isn't the same, it is aptly mirrored in s2:

but tbh, it could be that crowley never actually tempted jesus in GO!canon with the first two temptations (ie biblical texts misreport it), or that the interactions were not temptations and instead was misconstrued niceness ("his travel opportunities were limited"), or it could be that crowley is just that indeed a knob sometimes and his recount of the third temptation is not strictly accurate in sentiment as he himself reports it (ie. unreliable narrator). personally, id like to think the second option, given the potential link* between crowley and jesus as scapegoats in different but mirroring scenarios.

either way, his depiction as jesus being crucified is intriguing. if we take the imagery that crowley narratively mirrors jesus, we could arrive at the conclusion that crowley himself was a scapegoat. ive discussed the scapegoat thing more in some other posts, and more specifically along the lines of the old testament depiction of the scapegoat origin, but fuck it, let's chat about it again.

however, i have kinda gotten stuck re: that crowley image - if we take the new testament allegory of the scapegoat (ie the crucifixion), then that would suggest to me a couple of narrative points as concerns crowley's fall:

that crowley was blasphemous (potentially true given his comment pre-fall, "if i were in charge...")

that whoever passed his sentence was (if you consider the gospel of mark re: pontius pilate) originally merciful, but bent to the will of 'the people' (👀 at god and metatron)

but may also have refused to pass the sentence directly (if you consider the gospel of matthew) and instead turned crowley over to someone else to be condemned (double 👀 at god and metatron)

crowley may have fallen for a higher purpose - ie: used as the scapegoat (as jesus died to bring humanity back to righteousness/absolve humanity of sin - and would track with omelas), but we ought to consider that other angels fell too

crowley rose again after falling (which, yeah, he did - presumably into the garden of eden - but none of the fallen, as far as we are aware, died?).

none of the above is impossible, but im not entirely convinced. the above to me would strongly suggest that this scenario would better fit lucifer's narrative anyway? or maybe a bit of both? neil has wiped the possibility of crowley having been/being lucifer (rip), and so if lucifer was indeed the first prince of heaven (as neil has confirmed) and fell first to become satan... where would crowley fit in with the above? it almost seems like it's a bit too main-character-ish in that particular part of the hypothetical narrative for this allegory to fit crowley specifically.

this is where instead i feel like the scapegoat story in old testament texts might be a better parallel. leviticus says that god commanded the israelites to once a year perform a ceremony that would symbolise jesus' own later sacrifice. this was in the form of aaron sacrificing a bull as a burnt offering to atone for his own sins, and then to cast a lot on two other goats - one goat would be sacrificed as a sin offering on behalf of the temple (tabernacle), and the other would be spared but cast into the wilderness carrying the sins of the people, never to return. these two goats together represented the sacrifice and atonement for sin, even if only one was killed.

(@everyone, i think ive read the above right, but obviously it's very summarised and therefore may miss out or misinterpret the details; please come and kindly correct me if not!!!)

so we have three potential elements to this; the bull, and the two goats. if we take the bull out of the equation though, just for a minute, we could potentially interpret that the sin-offered goat and the scapegoat are potential lucifer and crowley respectively; that would fit.

the thing for me however is the - i believe - quite widely known point that crowley and aziraphale were originally meant to be the same character in initial drafts of GO. and we know from the pre-fall scene that aziraphale's information on the fate of the stars may have goaded crowley into challenging god, despite his warnings afterwards not to do so.

so - and hear me out - what if crowley was in fact offered up as the sacrificial goat, *the one which died and rose again, and aziraphale were the scapegoat? spared the fall, but cast out of heaven instead to bear the weight of sin, of the fall, on his shoulders? wouldn't that track with his being stationed on earth - cast into the wilderness - where he just so happens to end up meeting crowley again? and wouldn't it also match the symbolism behind aziraphale's own depiction as the virgin mary; being that of purity, faith, and virtue?

this could further cycle back around to omelas, and the condemnation of the child to be kept in squalor and darkness in order to preserve the paradise of the city. this could easily be parallel to crowley - someone who fell but didn't deserve to - and in doing so, staying fallen, maintains that equilibrium in heaven, and to aziraphale being one to walk away from omelas after learning of the child:

"They leave Omelas, they walk ahead into the darkness, and they do not come back. The place they go towards is a place even less imaginable to most of us than the city of happiness. I cannot describe it at all. It is possible it does not exist. But they seem to know where they are going, the ones who walk away from Omelas."

certainly, it raises questions about metatron's suggestion to aziraphale that he could restore him to angelic status. did metatron make the offer knowing that crowley would reject it, and therefore keep them both separated? that aziraphale would return to heaven - to omelas - and continue in maintaining its illusion of paradise? bring home the scapegoat and instead wash it of the sins it had previously - and potentially unknowingly, re: memory-wipe theories - carried?

[dreams232434]

Dream about rice

Allow me to ask you: have at any point awakened from a fantasy about rice and considered how might affect your life? I'm here to help you. There is a mystical thing about opening the privileged insights of our psyche, particularly when it connects with potential life ways. In spite of the fact that fantasies of rice (can be) at times a strange tangle of images, there is a mystical thing about finding what lies profound inside our psyche.

Dream about rice to dig into the historical backdrop of rice, as it has sustains you - - - as well as enhances our spirits. The profound meaning of rice's development and change goes back over 10,000 years, when it previously honored humanity with its presence. Rice has molded our past by planting seeds of trust and shrewdness, similarly as it is our obligation to trust (and petition God for) for a promising future.

In Asia, rice is like bread to the people who live in the west. At college, I imparted a house to individuals who cooked rice (generally pan sear) consistently. They accepted that rice gives thriving. Rice is an image of meeting up on the grounds that it is frequently tossed at weddings. At the point when you toss rice at a wedding, you are addressing your own joy and delights for others in your life which shows an open character. This is a great time in your life to contact companions, organization, or attempt social roads. Individuals will be open to you as of now and you need to be keeping watch for new associations that can be made.

Having rice tossed at you, for example, when you are getting hitched is an honored sign about marriage, profound fulfillment, satisfaction and delight. Consider aspects of your life that are merry and revel in the flashing bliss of the at this point. On the off chance that you are seeing someone, how the relationship is developing and you will probably see that you are prepared genuinely to make the following stride. Rice being tossed at you can represent marriage or meeting up as a couple and hitting significant achievements in a relationship, for example, moving into together, being select, and such.

Rice is utilized as a bug control strategy and in the event that you are envisioning birds eating rice in your fantasy this means that eliminating snags in your own life. Assume responsibility in your cognizant existence and request what you need and you will probably get it.

What truly does white rice mean in a fantasy? At the point when I consider rice I frequently consider white rice. White rice is something beyond a basic food in a fantasy - - - it brings (as I have said above) otherworldly and material thriving, riches, and virtue. As far as effortlessness and riches, the sensitive grains address that we have such a huge amount to be thankful throughout everyday life (have you been thankful as of late?). As far as I might be concerned, longing for white rice is an indication of favorable luck and positive energy. At the end of the day, it welcomes us to embrace change and be available to new open doors. You might appreciate euphoria and success in your cognizant existence in the event that you permit yourself to take advantage of the more modest grains of your objectives throughout everyday life. Keep in mind, life resembles step stepping stool you want to climb it to get to the top.

This is a period in your life where you need to consider pursuing objectives and assuming responsibility for getting parts of your coexistence that are needed like beginning another relationship, hardening a heading in your vocation, or making arrangements for what's to come. At the point when you long for rice your mind is saying that karma and fortune are your ally to arrive at your objectives and there is energy of emphatically or karma around you. At the point when you share rice with others this is an image of bliss and satisfaction being spread around and is a good omen for festivity where you can anticipate that positive changes should approach in your life. Sit tight for it, life is going to be great.

On the off chance that you are attempting to get pregnant, rice is an extraordinary sign in a fantasy as it shows wealth of wellbeing and richness.

Investigate the Old Imagery of Rice in Dream Understandings

Rice, I put stock in many societies is known as: a staple food that takes care of millions of individuals each day, obviously, I'm certain you will concur with me. It likewise gives a huge spot in our fantasy understandings. Because of its overflow, rice is an image of thriving and development in old imagery. The fantasy of rice can bring sensations of trust, mending, and overflow. At the point when you long for a copious rice field, your persistent effort will yield rewards, and your desires will significantly affect your life. Be ready for a new beginning when you long for rice, since it can likewise address fruitfulness and fresh starts. Exploit the force of rice found in your fantasies and allow it to move advancement, improvement, and outcome in your life.

What does the shade of rice in your fantasy mean? Colors assume a huge part in the fantasy land. In your fantasies, even the shade of rice can uncover stowed away bits of insight. At the point when it is white, it might address immaculateness and a fresh start. It might, in any case, show an association with the earth and establishing in the event that it is brown. I likewise think about dark rice (cooked or uncooked) implies that you are moving into the shadows - - - it addresses your subliminal profundities. I believe you should comprehend that the tones in our fantasies can give significant bits of knowledge and a more profound comprehension of your "inward" self. The following time rice shows up in your fantasies, focus on its tone to acquire a more profound comprehension of your feelings.

[dustedmagazine]

Listed: Buck Curran

Steel strings course through Buck Curran’s blood: he is both a guitarist and a luthier. Rising to prominence in the northeastern American psychedelic folk scene, first with his band Arborea and then solo, Curran is steeped in his country’s blues-influenced folk heritage. Recently, he performed an about-face and released Delights and Dangers of Ambiguity, a collection of improvisations that he describes as “improvised dissertations on dissonance & sustain (experimental, drone and modal explorations for piano and guitar).” In his review of the album, Bryon Hayes noticed that “there is a tie that binds these tunes to Curran’s overall oeuvre: a focus on resonance. Throughout his career, [he] explores ways of extending a note’s sonic envelope via extended techniques.” Curran also recently compiled a 22-track tribute to Steffan-Basho Junghans, which Jennifer Kelly reviewed here.

For this Listed, Curran runs down some recordings and writings from which he draws inspiration for his sonic explorations.

Blind Willie Johnson — Dark Was the Night Cold Was the Ground (1927)

I believe this is one of the most important recordings ever made, and there is a great reason why this recording made it onboard the space probe Voyager 1. I imagine it now: Blind Willie Johnson's deep plaintive voice and haunting slide playing on an endless loop as it hurtles out into the open void of deep space; a memory carried on a tiny metal seed...used as a kind of beacon of hope and promise for all life on earth. For certain it represents (along with folk music from Japan, the Navajo tribe, Bach, Beethoven, etc.) significant music made by the human race. The recording echoes the eternal loneliness that is such a big part of human nature and of our thoughts towards the silence and darkness of the cosmos itself. But in its moaning sadness, I feel it yearns always as a steady glowing light of hope.

The Wikipedia entry says this about the song: In 1977, Carl Sagan and other researchers collected sounds and images from planet Earth to send on Voyager 1 and Voyager 2. The Voyager Golden Record includes recordings of frogs, crickets, volcanoes, a human heartbeat, laughter, greetings in 55 languages, and 27 pieces of music. "Dark Was the Night, Cold Was the Ground" was included, according to Timothy Ferris, because “Johnson’s song concerns a situation he faced many times: nightfall with no place to sleep. Since humans appeared on Earth, the shroud of night has yet to fall without touching a man or woman in the same plight.”

Sinead O'Connor — The Lion and The Cobra (1987)

Sinead has been an inspiration for most of my life. In the late 1990s, I was fortunate to see her perform outdoors in Portland, Oregon. I stood in the front next to the barricade and her voice was just otherworldly: intense, emotional, and visceral in a way I've never heard before. It was powerful and transformational, and the siren-like timbres physically penetrated my body. She wrote and recorded these songs as a young woman pregnant with her first child. Songs like “Jackie” and “Troy” embody the spirit of the album and sound the many internal and external struggles of life.

Camaron de la Isla — Seguiriyas (circa 1980s)

Camaron de la Isla is one of my very favorite singers. His work with both Paco Delucia and Tomatito is essential listening. This film of Camaron singing a Seguiriya is so incredibly emotive and beautiful and cuts straight to my heart giving me such joy. As described here, a “Seguiriya” is one of the oldest flamenco styles. The oldest evidence of this flamenco style is found in the late 18th century, even though its origin is still uncertain. “Seguiriya” derived from primitive “tonás,” being created between Seville and Cadiz, los Puertos, Jerez and Triana neighborhoods. As singing, it has a tragic and gloomy character, enclosing the main values of what is known as “cante hondo.” Lyrics are painful, tragic, about human relationships, love, and death.

Pandit Nikhil Banerjee — Raga Chandra Kaushiki: Live at Dover Lane Music Conference, Kolkata (1977)

This deeply passionate performance by sitarist Pandit Nikhil Banerjee simply transcends time and space, and shimmers with the radiance of the Cosmos. Banerjee is among the best musicians I have ever heard. His tone is sweet and incredibly emotive. His technique absolutely masterful. He is accompanied on tablas by the Great Ustad Zakir Hussain.

Cinder Well — Live at Abbeydale Picture House (Songs from the album 'No Summer' 2020)

Along with the Gillian Welch albums Hell Among the Yearlings and Time (The Revelator) as well as various albums by Sandy Denny, June Tabor, and Karen Dalton, Amelia Baker's album No Summer is listed among my very favorite contemporary folk albums. This plaintive and beautiful live session features songs from No Summer. This session was perfectly documented (audio as well as video) in a historic movie house in Sheffield, England. During the songs “Old Enough” and “From Behind the Curtain,” Amelia is subtly and beautifully accompanied by Jim Ghedi and GBH.

Robbie Basho — Zarthus (1974)

My favorite album made by Robbie Basho. Thematically, it was deeply influenced by his spiritual guru Meher Baba and his fascination and love for Persian culture. Highlights on this album include his playing on 12 string guitar and piano. “Kahlil Gibran” is among my favorite of Basho’s songs that features him singing. I also highly recommend listening to Basho’s “Lost Lagoon Suite” from Falconer's Arm II (1967) and the album Song of the Stallion (1971).

Dylan Thomas — Deaths and Entrances (1946)

Deaths and Entrances is a volume of poetry by Dylan Thomas, first published in 1946. Many of the poems in this collection deal with the effects of World War II, which had ended only a year earlier. I first discovered Dylan Thomas’ poetry as a teenager when reading the anthology of poetry Immortal Poems. Along with the books Ariel by Sylvia Plath, and various poems by John Keats, Dylan’s poetry seems to transcend written word and takes me to another place.

Martin Simpson — Leaves of Life (1989)

The first acoustic guitar instrumental record that made a huge impact on me. Martin creates a dynamic world of sound with his virtuosity and the use of several unique and responsive hand-built acoustic guitars. Leaves of Life is an album of instrumental guitar arrangements of traditional ballads from the British Isles, many of which he learned from vocal airs. It’s an album that’s steeped in a dark, mysterious mood, and songs like “Green Fields of America” are otherworldly. His slide playing and command over the dynamics of single-note passages (and use of guitar overtones) are a great influence on my playing. The complex voices of the guitars he used on this album influenced me to build my own acoustic guitars.

Michael Hedges — The Naked Stalk (1991)

Michael Hedges was a true innovator of the acoustic guitar. “The Naked Stalk” is a deeply contemplative and beautiful piece of music, and along with his guitar instrumental “The Happy Couple” (from the Breakfast in the Field album, released in 1981), it is one of my very favorite guitar recordings.

Tommy Jarrell and Fred Cockerham — Live (1971, filmed by Blanton Owen)

I love the primordial American folk music from Round Peak, North Carolina. I hear the roots of Scotland and Ireland in this music and it moves me deeply. Tommy Jarrell and Fred Cockerham were among the finest players in this genre, and this intimate concert (filmed on Cockerham's front porch in Low Gap, North Carolina) is a vital and amazing archive. Also of interest is Cockerham’s fretless banjo made by fellow musician Kyle Creed. The fretless fretboard of this banjo was made with a sheet of Formica. This banjo now resides in the Smithsonian National Museum of American History.

Neil Young — In Concert at BBC (1971)

I absolutely love Neil Young’s live solo recordings. This live BBC concert from 1971 is a perfect example of the magic that can be made with just a handful of songs, voice and acoustic guitar. Other brilliant recordings performed in this fashion include Live at Massey Hall 1971 and Carnegie Hall 1970. All are favorite recordings that are utterly perfect. Neil Young, along with Bert Jansch and Tim Buckley (especially Goodbye and Hellofrom 1967), exists artistically in a realm that has inspired and influenced my own music. “Don't Let it Bring You Down” is my favorite Neil Young song, and I love his performance of it in this session.

[starrook]

Diamant's confidence, in his body... Alcryst can't stop himself from smiling stupidly in delight. "Wow… you make me sound so cool! I don’t know how I’ll ever compare to you when we return to our bodies. Though I’ve always struggled with that… ah, I’m sorry. No self-deprecation.” He just barely aborts an apologetic bow on top of it. “I promise to keep those thoughts to myself today. I’ll live up to your trust in me, Diamant.”

As for maintaining his image... Alcryst shakes his head. Asking Diamant not to shine would be like asking a horse not to run, an eagle not to fly. He couldn't ask that of him. “I’m not concerned about my image. Wait, let me rephrase that… you’re at the helm, so I’m not worried about how you’ll represent me. If anything, you’ll be better at being me than I am.”

It's self-deprecating, but considering it's a compliment, surely Diamant will let it pass...?

After a glance towards Diamant's students, Alcryst tries putting a hand on his (his?) shoulder, a reassuring gesture that he hopes his brother recognizes. “I trust you... what I'm really worried about is that you'll be tempted to cut my hair off," he teases. It's an opportunity to release some tension, to turn the attention back to Diamant where it belongs. He takes the clip and pushes back dark blue fringes, pinning it back so that it won't interfere with his brother's vision. "Today was supposed to be my 'mandatory' day off. I planned to go to more seminars after this one. I suppose I still am, in a way… uh, but the point is, I, um, I don’t have many obligations today... sorry... but that means you don't either. That's good, right?"

He blinks, trying not to let his displeasure show when he swipes a persistent strand of hair from his face for probably the fifth time in the last five minutes alone. No wonder Alcryst wore that clip in his hair: it was too thin, too silky—too easy to slip through his fingers.

A small sigh leaves him as he brushes said hair behind his ear, his voice mercifully lacking its usual volume or bass. Further in the room, a taller, red-headed figure goes through sword drills with a student. It was... strange, watching himself from afar.

Rather than hands awkwardly wrung together, a sight more characteristic of his younger brother, too-small arms cross over a too-small chest, and Diamant feels thoroughly out of his element. He doesn't know why or how, but at some point in the day, the king suddenly found Alcryst's body as his own.

The sword practice concludes, and as 'Diamant' comes to question him, he shakes his head—strands of hair once again slapping him in the face.

"You—mmngh..." Diamant grunts, the rumble in his throat sounding odd in Alcryst's softer register, frustrations held back as he swipes hair out of his face once more. "Really must have more faith in your ability. From where I stood, I could hardly tell a difference, and I doubt the students could either."

It's odd, to have to look up at someone when he talks... especially his own face.

"Be confident. For as long as we're stuck in this predicament, you'll have to be a figure the students can rely on. You're skilled, capable—we've received most of the same training. If there's anyone I would trust to handle my affairs, it's you, Brother."

Diamant almost claps Alcryst on the shoulder, but with their reversed positions, ultimately decides against it. "I'll do my best to maintain your image, but I'm afraid I don't quite have your penchant for... colorful self-description, I should say."

Nor did he want to. None of what Alcryst said or thought about himself was true, after all.

[multi-lefaiye]

Here's some out-of-context Cam lol

TW mild violence kind of. Cam is being a Vampire.

"You think just because you'll taste delicious that gives you a right to be a dick?" Cam growls, and I should do something. He's got this human held up off the floor by their shirt, and they're dangling like a bag of trash.

His odd point made, Cam is being very vampiric at the moment, his eyes glowing brighter as the whites of them flood red to match his pupils, his grin wide enough to display his fangs, flashing in the flourescent light.

[Image Description: A picture of a small, fat white dog with brown markings on its head, sitting in a brown dog bed. Its ears are pinned back and its eyes are wide. End ID.]

[kru-sader]

It is unfortunate how so many people associate nudity with sexuality. How they do that is beyond me. A naked human body is a human body naked - that's it. It doesn't always represent anything else - it's a body?And while nudity in general has now become a sex symbol, most often it is the female body sexualised more. Male nudity is still somewhat normal- like it is just a body . But we have spent so many centuries censuring the female body like it is some symbol of sin that now a naked female body is considered more of a sexual object than a living breathing human with life within it and with curves with their own purposes in that body other than to look attractive. I think most of us have already had the disturbing realization that there is a concerning number of people with that frame of mind. But that outlook affects girls and women too.

So to every young girl that might be reading this- do NOT objectify yourself. Do NOT look at your naked body in the mirror after showering and associate it with something sexual. Do not look at your chest as if its something sexual and needs to be a certain way- look at it and know that beneath that skin there are ribs, that would break before they let your vital organs be harmed, like a loyal and strong wall protecting a fortress. That your hips -no matter what shape- have so strong a structure that they can help push another life through them. Look at your arms and understand that beneath them are your loyal bones and muscles that have so much strength and resilience that have helped you do things throughout your life and understand that their looking appealing is far from necessary for them to work properly. Do NOT look at your forehead and think they are unattractive and lessen your value; look at them -whatever shape they are- and picture your brain inside, that is actually just soft blobs of fat so fragile that it has to float in a liquid to stay safe; yet so brilliant that it runs your entire body without you being conscious and aware of it most of the time, is storing the memories of your entire life, experiences things differently than any other brain out there, can make complex decisions in a few milliseconds, can discover and learn and store so much information and create ideas and visualize images that do not even exist in this shallow world. And then remember that all you are using it for is to imagine yourself as a more attractive body for others to see, as an object of pleasure when you are so much more. So much more complex, so much more powerful, so much more precious under that layer of skin. The same layer of skin that without any clothes is associated with something sexual, when it is far from it.

So do NOT sexualise YOURSELF, ever.

Edit: I just thought now how differently some people can interpret this. In no way is this meant to slut shame women. Taking control of their own sexuality and pleasure is, in my opinion, one of the most powerful acts of bravery women have done over the centuries. It makes me delighted every time I see someone be confident enough to express themself sexually through their body. It is a display of courage for a woman to stand tall and refuse to hate or feel disgust or shame for her body in a world that tries so hard to make her do just that. That's all I meant to say in this post. The female human body is not any less complex or valuable or precious despite being subject of the extreme objectification in the "civilised" soceity. Its worth doesn't deplete in any way just because it doesn't fit some messed up standards. Looking appealing is not a job it's meant to do - let alone it being the most important one. I hope from the bottom of my heart anyone who believes otherwise turns to dust immediately. Why not now when it'll happen one day anyway.

[imagine-lcorp]

Written In The Stars (One Shot)

Request

Hi! Can I request something like Lena falling in love with an alien reader?

A/N: Hey guys!!! First one shot of the year!!! Let’s hope we can keep the rhythm this time...also I broke my phone so I’ll probably be less active on the app...the writing is still going tho so yaaay! Anyway, I hope you enjoy this one and as always, let me know what you think! Love ya beautiful people! 

Lena Luthor x Alien!R//Word Count: 2,204 -------------------------------------------------------

When she was younger, Lena Luthor used to look at the night sky with infinite awe. The map of stars that hung above the Earth had been the place where she could find solace and a sense of peace. The stars were never alone, always needing one another to form their constellations. They reminded her she was also not alone even if it seemed like it.

However, as she grew up most of that wonder translated into scientific interest, which started to diminish as she found herself enthralled by more practical sciences. The sky, as vast as it was, was a mystery she recognized she couldn't unravel in her lifetime. She needed to focus on more earthly things, but she was content to be another curious viewer of such canvas of light.

Being a curious viewer, however, was something that changed abruptly when the existence of extraterrestrial life was proven by no other than Superman. Even more when it was known the Earth had been a refuge for many more aliens than it was possible to believe. The stars had reached the Earth, and they came bearing their own cosmic forms of life.

The population had been divided between those that accepted and welcomed the space travelers and those that rejected the idea, defending their right to their land and planet, fearful of an unstoppable invasion, living with the enemy and whatnot. For a while, Lena found the latter to be a matter of great concern. She wanted people to feel safe and believed they had the right to know who among them was or not an alien.

It wasn't until Kara came to knock that idea off, presenting her with an alternative story and reminding her that those aliens too had a right to their own freedom. She opened her eyes to the reality most of them lived. They were mmigrants of desolated planets, seeking shelter from wars and just like Superman, seeking a new home after their planets had been shattered. There were a few bad seeds, yes, but most of them were only looking for a better life. Wasn't that enough to give them a vote of confidence?

Her alien detection device was then transformed into an image inducer, a new gadget that helped aliens conceal their true appearance if they wished to look physically human. It was great to blend with the crowd, and it was a great success in the alien market.

"Miss Luthor, Kara Danvers is waiting for you in the conference room." Jess told her one day as she arrived to the office.

"Kara?" She found herself surprised by the sudden visit of the journalist. "Does she want another interview?"

"No, she has come along with someone else. She said she only needed a few minutes with you."

"Alright." Lena said leaving her purse on her desk and taking a couple of files from Jess to revise them later. "Let's see what it is."

Lena Luthor entered her conference room to find two figures chatting amicably at the room table. One she could recognize immediately, with her golden locks and bright smile, the other she had no idea who it was but as soon as your eyes were on her she was curious to find out.

"Lena!" Kara said rising from her chair, with you following suit. "Thank you for meeting us in such short notice. We promise not to take too much of your time."

"Kara, of course. How can I help?"

"Well, actually, I would like to introduce you to (Y/N) (Y/L/N)." At the mention of your name, you stepped forward, extending your hand to Lena. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Luthor."  

"Lena, please." She said taking your hand.

"Then, please, call me (Y/N)." You said with a firm grip and a kind smile, something rare for Lena to see during those days.

"(Y/N) is the leader of an alien race residing in National City." Kara continued with a proud stance.

"Is that so?" Lena replied with a raised eyebrow and the hint of a smirk on her lips. "Is (Y/N) your real name?"

Lena's words prompted a chuckle from you, and you decided to clarify before there were any misunderstandings.

"It's my chosen Earth name. I don't think you have enough tongues to be able to pronounce the real one." You said with a playful smile. "Also, I wouldn't go that far. I am what you would call a representative, and it is of a small group only. Miss Danvers here is just too kind."

"She is, indeed." Her smile only grew bigger as she saw Kara fail to conceal a little pout.

"Well, you're still a great representative." Kara said.

"But to what do I own the honor of you visit?" Lena said gesturing to you to take your seats again. Kara smiled at you and moved along with you towards your seats.

"Right." You said pulling a small box from your jacket. "I'm here to deliver this."

Lena took the little box from your extended palm, her curiosity growing as she inspected its contents. Inside she found a little black matte icosahedron, nothing extraordinary by the looks of it.

"What is this?" She finally asked.

"The alien community wanted to thank you for creating the image inducer. It has helped a lot of people, especially those of us that don't exactly fit into the human shape." You started to explain as she inspected it.

After the launch of her device, Lena recalled, the company had received countless letters and e-mails, most of them in gratitude for helping the aliens in National City as they were still fighting for acceptance within the human population. It helped them find jobs, housing and places to be without having to worry about their looks or if other people reacted negatively to them. It helped them feel safe.

Only then Lena understood the impact it had on other's peoples lives and how her work had helped them accomplish that.

"So this is a thank you gift." You moved your hand and placed a finger on one side of the icosahedron.

Lena was startled as the other sides of the new device in her hand started to open. Suddenly the room was filled with a clear colorful light, but it was more than that. It was lines and spheres and points and spirals well defined. It took her a moment to realize what it was but Lena found herself looking around the conference room with a fascination she thought she had long lost. As the conversation followed, you explained Lena the device in her hand was a space chart. It contained information about several planetary systems, their galaxies and stars, and common routes to reach them, you said as if it was nothing but a travel guide.

Lena turned her eyes towards you a few seconds later, ready to declare her own gratitude when she noticed your expression. You were staring at a far corner of the room, not with the usual distant look of a daydreamer or that of someone who has lost interest in the present moment. You were looking with intention and, more than that, with longing in your eyes.

"It's wonderful. Thank you." Lena finally said, pulling you out of your thoughts. You blinked a few times before the smile returned to your face.

"If you ever wish to know a bit more about what's out there, you can always consult it and if you need help navigating it, I'll be more than happy to help."

Lena thought about it for a moment more. While she had long ago left her intentions of unraveling the skies, she saw a chance within those stars. This was the opportunity she had been hoping to find in National City. If she could gain the trust of the alien community, she would be able to expand her work and better help not only them but the whole city. To help put the world back together instead of tearing it apart. She was more grateful then to you, for giving her that chance.

Besides, she thought, it was also a chance to fulfill her curiosity about you.

It wasn't long after that meeting that you were back at her office, teaching her how to use the space chart. Her attention bouncing from the lines of stars and planets to understanding the technology behind the device. While her studies on science and astronomy made it easy for her to identify the structure and functioning of the chart, and the several celestial bodies it showed, she still had to learn how to translate that into terms she knew and relearn the names people used to refer to their own planets and stars. You did your best trying to explain how both things worked, which she highly appreciated.

As days passed, Lena took a new liking to your teachings which turned into more personal reunions. You didn't limit yourself to talking just about stars or planets but about the different cultures that inhabited them. Mentions of your home planet became more regular and you even used it to contrast the big differences between Earth and the rest of worlds you had known. Lena was delighted to indulge in such conversations, taking in as much as it was possible.

The way you talked about your home planet, your country, if such concept even applied, your family, your house, everything, was enough for her to look at you with the same awe she used to look at the stars when she was younger. She knew she wouldn't get to know all the stars in the universe but just knowing you, she thought, made up for it all.

"The sunsets there were hours of golden light washing over the citadel, and the nights were, oh, the night was too beautiful with its waves of light across the sky." You told her one day as you both had finished one of your reunions.

You were leaning against Lena's balcony, both of you observing the sun go down behind the city skyline.

"You know, I don't think you have ever showed me where you're from." Lena said, crossing her arms and taking a step towards you, seizing the opportunity. You had showed Lena at least dozens of planets, especially those closest to Earth's solar system but yours, for everything you talked about it, somehow still remained a mystery.

Lena felt a slight pang in her chest as she saw the smile in your face turn sad.

"No, I suppose I haven't." You said and after a moment, where you seemed to ponder a few options, you moved your head, signaling Lena to follow you back inside her office.

You took the space chart from her desk, activating it and moving your hands again until the hologram in the room moved, showing a single planet in the center of the room. You took a few steps back and gestured to Lena to take a closer to look at it.

"Here it is."

The planet, surrounded by seven moons, was a very Jupiter look-a-like. Lena was instantly enthralled by the colors and the stripes, swirls and waves that formed the planet's atmosphere. The hologram displayed a name in a language Lena certainly didn't know and that made her wonder just how many tongues she would need to pronounce it correctly.

"It's beautiful." Lena said, still looking at it.

"It was." You replied, and she turned to look at you with a confused frown and a question clear in her face.  

You moved the chart once more, reducing the image to show the whole system your planet used to be a part of.

Lena saw other nine planets but only one caught her attention as its name was being displayed in an alphabet she actually recognized.

"Krypton." She whispered, eyes widening in shock.

Everyone already knew the story. How the almighty Kryptonians had traveled to Earth when their own planet had been destroyed. But no one, including her, had thought too much about what it had meant for the rest of their own little universe. Lena imagined it then, an explosion setting a chain reaction. Not only one but several worlds shattered, with their people trying to escape the path of destruction.

Lena's eyes landed on you once more, finally understanding the longing she had once seen in your own eyes. She also knew, in some way, what it was to lose your home. So she approached you, slowly taking your hand and muttering an apology, for whatever little comfort it could give you.

"It's alright." You said looking intently at her with a reassuring smile. "I found a new home."

"And I'm glad you found it here."

You made her feel at home, Lena thought and, as she smiled back at you, she thanked the stars for giving you both the chance to find a home along each other, and hopefully, one day, a home for you both.

[brother-hermes]

SHADOW VS EGO

Anyone who has studied the psychology of Carl Jung is familiar with the concepts of the shadow and self. Those of us who have embarked on the path of working with our shadows have become painstakingly aware of just how much of our actions are automatically performed without  a second thought.

Many of us who have discovered there are entire patterns of thoughts and actions we run through automatically have gone  through great lengths to stop acting unconsciously. We discover the power of the subconscious mind and make it our duty to unify the opposites within. We remind ourselves of the Hermetic Principle of Polarity and how it can be used.

It is natural to begin to restrict dark in exchange for light. To want to ignore those “filthy” parts of our unconscious thought and label the subconscious with the dirtiest word a mystic can label it; ego. Certainly, the whole purpose of shadow work must be to create a psychic shift within our subconscious, After all, isn’t it those really nasty bits whisked away into the furthest reaches of our minds that cause us the most problems?

As my meditation within the shadows evolved I came to some very uncomfortable discoveries and made all the aforementioned mistakes. The Temple within my shadow was this dark and desolate place where the temple lie in ruins and storms are constant. It was easy to look at the broken aspects of myself and call it ego. Obviously, all of my problems could be solved if I could just bring light into this aspect of my being. Now, anyone who has ever tried to suppress their emotions can attest to just how rapidly we react to situations emotionally without acknowledging they’re there. It’s a paradox. We can’t outrun the pain and sorrow of life. In fact, the only way out is to go into it.

Funny thing is, my shadow has absolutely no quarrel with receiving divine grace and love. I watched that aspect of myself cry in the arms of Rav Yeshua for hours with a strange sort of shock on my face. Like who loves the broken? This cat is the worst of the worst and is so far beyond redemption it’s not even funny. It turns out this was one of those limiting beliefs that had shackled me.

Humankind has both the best and the worst of all existence within itself. This aspect of self I was shunning was a part of me I had cut myself off from refusing to acknowledge it hoping it would just go away. Bill Wilson explains this line of thinking in relatively simple terms we can all understand. “ More than most people, the alcoholic leads a double life. He is very much the actor. To the outer world he presents his stage character. This is the one he likes his fellows to see. He wants to enjoy a certain reputation, but knows in his heart he doesn’t deserve it.” Note the fact I called aspects of myself “the worst” and “beyond redemption.” This kind of thinking limits our growth as we carry on our daily lives with the assumption that there is a part of us that will always be just outside of grace and love.

Sprinkle in the egotistical faces we want the world to see and our shadow selves are clearly not the ego. It’s our waking minds, so controlled and perfectly poised, always concerned with how things will be perceived in the minds of others that are oozing with ego. It’s the part of us that’s all wrapped up in image and acting that needs to be placed on hold so we can look into who we really are. 

Yes our shadow is broken. Yes it carries scars from a lifetime of experience for good and bad. Jung himself said “ "The shadow personifies everything that the subject refuses to acknowledge about himself" and represents "a tight passage, a narrow door, whose painful constriction no one is spared who goes down to the deep well." Diving into the depths of our being is one of the most freeing things we can do. We learn to free ourselves from our judgements and reservations. We become more compassionate when we face down just how (insert your favorite negative connotation here) our inner dialogue actually is. We become aware of our own humanity.

We will never become fast friends with our shadows enjoying delightful conversation over coffee anymore than our light will completely overcome the darkness within. That isn’t the point though. This is a matter of being aware of who and what we are capable of being and making decisions consciously. Otherwise we will just continue self sabotaging our progress and repeating the same mistakes until we catch the lessons. 

Awareness. Once again, we come back to awareness. That’s all I got guys. Feel free to share this post to your hearts content. Thank you so much for reading.

[aenngelic]

I will protect her at all costs (chapter 2)

Disclaimer: please don’t hate me for it, if you don’t ship them please just don’t read it ok 🥲

contains: slow burn, Sniper falling in love with Kuon, Snipers view/thoughts, sexual fantasies, nudity, lemon stuff overall

It is a very long chapter I’m sorry

Note: please feel free to message me if you have certain romantic moments to include in the story! (Already running out of ideas oops)

It did not take long for us to find a bag of supplies. It was on a coffee table in some sort of lobby area. It seemed as if this building probably was meant to represent some kind of hotel, which I thought was a good thing, because that meant that there would be beds and showers to be found here as well. To our surprise, the bag contained mostly candy, which I wouldn't interpret as a balanced meal. However, the girl seemed to like this finding. It was only a matter of minutes before the chocolate residue stained the corners of my companion's mouth in a brown color. However, I preferred to smoke a cigarette at first and watch the girl devour her own body weight in the form of chocolate.

" This is fantastic! It feels like forever since I last ate chocolate! I faintly remember dieting before I entered this world too, so this must have been probably weeks since I held chocolate in my hand." Kuon said with delight. It was amusing to watch her enjoy sweets. Kuon's carelessness may be a burden at times, but her innocent character makes up for it.

" you partly remember your life prior to this, don't you?"

" Yes, not much to be honest. I'm sorry you can't," Kuon replied in a concerned voice.

"Tell me about it."

She gave me a visibly puzzled look before straightening her back so that she was sitting as straight as a candle on the sofa across from me, staring at her hands somewhat lost in thought. She seemed uncomfortable that I had now brought up this topic. Unfortunately, I could not take back my question. "Well," she began, "to be honest,the life I remember has not been the greatest, I guess." Kuon abruptly shook her head. " That's not true either. I was born into a rich family and had many privileges. My father owned a large company and had very high expectations of me from the very beginning. One day I was supposed to take it over. I was probably pretty lucky compared to other people. I was probably a big disappointment for him. My character was just not strong enough in his eyes. I also remember not really having any friends either, because I was privately educated. And anyway..." I could literally hear the lump in Kuon's throat as a tear began to stream down the girl's cheek.

" i'm sorry. You know, I didn't really mean to end up crying."

I felt my heart break once again, watching the girl grieve. I was surprised now, though, to find out that this yet seemingly uncomplicated high school student was actually carrying a lot of emotional baggage. I did not hesitate as I jumped up from my seat to calm the blue-haired girl. I really hated it like the plague when she cried. Trying to preserve my Coolness, however, I grumbled, "oh girl. What's wrong?"

I placed myself to her left, and pressed her against my shoulder while running my hand over her hair a few times. There was no way I could bring myself to face her, though. It would be too embarrassing and, after all, I was far from being the Prince Charming who would dry her tears with a silken tissue. Besides, I could not withstand the sight of her teary eyes. So there I sat, a weeping teenage girl wetting my blazer with salty drops of grief on my right, awkwardly staring off into the distance.

"It's, it's..." she stammered, not being able to form a word. "You're the first person I've been able to trust, and because of that, I'm kind of..."

She took a deep breath, "It makes me so unbelievably happy."

Almost for the second time that day, a cigarette nearly got stuck in my throat, but this time I was able to suppress my urge to cough. The girl seemed to really like me. But did I like her too? I would be lying if I said I did not care about her. And if she got killed, I could never forgive myself. It was astonishing how one could form such a strong bond with another person in such a short period of time. However, pouring out my entire feelings in front of her would not come close to the cool lifestyle I was pursuing.

" i'm also happy to have met you, Kuon.", i finally decided to answer after a moment of figuring out how to respond.

Kuon's face, which was still streaked with tears, started to smile again, which made me feel much relieved. However, it took her a while to completely stop her wailing . We remained in this position for a while, until at some point I realized that the girl had fallen asleep. Her head had lowered in the meantime even further toward the ground, so that after some time she was no longer leaning against my shoulder but much rather against my belly. When I noticed this after some time and looked down to the girl, a cute sight presented itself to me. Admittedly, on the one hand it felt nice to act as this girl's pillow. On the other hand, it triggered an immeasurable amount of embarrassment in me. But cool guys do like to take care of girls' comfort, don't they?

Therefore, I decided I'd rather not wake her up and hardly moved at all. I looked out the window to my right, watching the sunset and reflected on certain issues. I was thinking about Rika as well as the two girls we were trying to find and, of course, about Kuon and so many other things until my eyes started to close.

When I regained consciousness, the night must have settled in. Before I could even perceive my surroundings properly, I swiveled my head once to the left and once to the right and let my gaze wander through the room. Because the moon was particularly bright this night, everything around me had taken on a deep blue tone. It was so quiet around me that I could have heard a pin drop. In the next second I realized that I should not have fallen asleep in the first place. Somebody would have had to keep watch, after all! Crap! If an enemy would have come along the way, it certainly would not have been good for me and Kuon. I looked down to my thigh where the blue-haired girl was supposed to lie. I felt her place her head on my thigh at some point during the night, but when I looked down at my thigh, I could not find any girl. Where the hell was Kuon? A rational thinking person, as I was one, could of course assume that my companion did not necessarily have to be in danger, but could also have simply visited the toilet, for example. Nonetheless, my alarm bells started ringing immediately. Kuon was, after all, a young girl who, apart from the "rail gun", did not posses many possibilities for self-defense. So of course I was worried.

Without thinking much, I hopped up from the sofa, on which I had been napping a few moments before. In quick stride I wandered through the poorly lit hallway without really having a clue where I was heading. My head was foggy from the idea that the girl might be in serious danger. A few days ago, I probably would have accepted the fact that she was suddenly nowhere to be found and continued my journey. And now my stomach was already twisting at the thought of her getting in trouble.

Nevertheless, a short moment later, my heart pounding madly from the ever-repeating scenario in my head, I heard a noise at the end of the corridor. A soft, high-pitched humming was heard, drowned out by the pattering of many drops. Light emerged from the crack of a door on the left. Was she taking a shower? The feeling of relief spread through my chest, followed by some degree of annoyance. Why did the girl not wake me up? I took a few steps towards the door, but before I was about to reach for the door handle, I remembered that I should not do so. A gentleman never violates a lady's privacy. So I decided to wait.

I leaned against the local wall, one leg bent. Then I let my thoughts wander, while the pattering of the raindrops in the bathroom right next to me showed no indication of stopping anytime soon. A lady of high society must spend quite a bit of her life showering, I thought to myself. And before I knew it, the image of Kuon suddenly popped up in my head. In my imagination I pictured her body, wondering what it looked like completely naked. A bar of soap running over her plump breasts, leaving traces of foam on her soft, wet skin. A body swinging under the hot rainfall like a leaf in the wind, presenting its vivid buttocks. I wonder if she was shaved? Hardly had I been able to finish this dirty thought of mine and get mad at my filthy thinking when my ears picked up the sound of footsteps in the distance. And they were coming ominously closer.

Damn, I thought to myself and was about to reach for my rifle, only to realize that I forgot it next to the sofa where I had been sleeping. I had been so upset about her disappearance that I could seriously forget the most crucial item for our survival.What was I going to do? For a brief moment I was at a loss. Escape proved almost impossible at this point, since I was at a dead end and I could not force the approaching enemy down with any surrounding objects. Besides, if I escaped, it would only be a matter of time before the enemy would track down my helpless companion. In the next moment, almost instinctively, I reached for the door handle that led to the bathroom that Kuon had still claimed. Perhaps there were objects in the room that were suitable for fighting, or perhaps we could be lucky and not be found, I speculated in the heat of the moment. So I tore open the door and rushed into the bathroom, greeted by a hot haze that took over the entire area.

"Kuon!" I called out in a hushed tone.

Without hesitation, I pushed my way through the door that separated the shower from the rest of the bathroom as if I was walking through nothing. Until that moment, I had hardly given a thought to the circumstances of this situation. But at the latest, when finally the naked body of a schoolgirl jumped into my field of vision, I quickly realized this again. I was just about to violate Kuon's privacy. An obviously shocked girl looked towards me, that from 1 second to the other tried to cover herself desperately.

"Mr.Ma-", she was about to say, but I interrupted her raised voice by pressing my hand to her lips as quickly as possible.

While I was still in the act of stepping into the shower, I flicked the light switch in the same movement so that no sign of our presence could escape from the room. Maybe they would not find us here, I hoped at this point.

"There's someone out there," I whispered to the naked girl in front of me.

" if we are quiet, maybe we won't be found. If we are, then..."

Kuon replied to me with an unintelligible "Mmm" , which resembled the sound of a frightened gasp. My body had pressed so close to hers by now that I could feel the wetness of her skin soaking through my shirt. I had directed my face facing away from her so that I could sharpen my hearing for the footsteps I could hear. Furthermore , I did not want to add unnecessary tension to the whole situation. It was uncool enough to interfere with a naked girl taking a shower even if it was an emergency. My hand was still resting on her lips and even though I was wearing gloves and looking away, I could clearly feel the warmth building up in Kuon's cheeks. She was obviously blushing in this moment. But having her pressed against the bathroom wall while forcing my hand tightly onto her lips and not even keeping a distance of not 2 inches, I could not blame her.

For quite a while, we did not move at all. We listened closely to the footsteps, which came a little closer and finally slowly moved away from us again. Temporarily it was even so quiet in this bathroom that we could hear each other breathing. Kuon's breathing was fast and almost verged on hyperventilation in this situation. Because there was hardly any distance between our bodies, I could literally feel her chest rising and falling in short intervals. With each rise, her breasts brushed my upper body a slight bit. I tried, as always, to keep my composure and block out the fact that Kuon was completely naked. Only when several minutes had passed did my posture loosen and I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Okay, we should be safe for now," I stated and let go of the girl.

I flipped the light switch and had to swallow.

Kuon had been naked before too, but it was only now that the danger was gone that I could really comprehend this fact. She had tried to cover her breasts with her hands and had simultaneously crossed her legs, looking down with a shameful expression on her face. However, the concealment attempt seemed to be unsuccessful for her. Although I only caught a glimpse of her appearance before I turned away from her as quickly as possible, I saw her entire beauty for a moment.Her breasts were in relation to her otherwise so petite body, large and plump. She had a narrow waist and perfectly shaped legs, in combination with her smooth, fair skin. And so she shaved, I could still tell. What remained most imprinted on my mind, however, was the look on her face.I of course preferred to see her friendly smile a thousand times more than this face that expressed pure shame. But I could not help but adore the sight of her big sparkling dog eyes looking at the ground helplessly.

My breath stopped for a moment, but then I quickly cleared my throat, my gaze already averted from her, scanning the room for a towel. I tried to hide the fact that I actually wanted to slap myself for the thoughts I was having. Luckily, my embarrassment was not visible through the mask. I had to change the subject immediately before the situation became even more awkward:

"Sorry, Kuon." , I mumbled. I was surprised myself by my harsh tone. It took me a while to recollect the words.

"You should let me know next time you decide to go somewhere else."

"Oh yeah right. I didn't mean to cause any trouble.", Countered the girl who also seemed to be a bit embarrassed. So it wasn't just me who was feeling uncomfortable about this situation. Without giving my companion another look, I threw a towel right over my head at her. I had a precise aim.

" I'm going to get my rifle. I forgot it in all the hurry near the sofa."

Just as I was about to open the door to step out, the girl interrupted my process by grabbing my arm with unusual intensity.

" can you come back here afterwards? Please?"

"That's what I was planning on doing anyway. I'll be waiting right outside the door," I replied, a bit puzzled by this question.

" but I have -." she interrupted herself, shaking her head slightly before continuing.

Then her facial expression regained its former composure, whereupon she gave me her typical, beaming smile. I could tell, however, that she did not mean it honestly. How I could tell that, I had no idea myself though. But did she want me to stay here with her?

" no you're right. I'll hurry up and be done in a few minutes," she said. While she was talking, she wrapped the towel around her body in a quick movement, fastening it in front with the help of a knot.

I had meanwhile turned my gaze back to her. Although Kuon was now dressed, it was difficult for me not to inspect her from top to bottom. Her entire body was still drenched in a hint of wetness, so that her skin was reflectingthe bright bathroom light. It was also slightly red from the hot shower water. I wondered if the red tint to her cheeks was also caused by that, or if I was responsible for it.I could not help but notice the way the towel just managed to hide all the places it was supposed to cover and yet was far too tight. If she bent over, a special view would present itself to me. Immediately I dashed this disgusting thought from my head. If I continued to reduce myself only to her appearance this could end in negligence on my part and I would not be able to protect her properly.After all, that was the most important thing. I also discarded this thought. Had this strange girl really become so important to me? Nevertheless, there was no place for interpersonal relationships in this world.Before I could get any further into this train of thought, I turned away again and finally walked out of the room. I was in need of a cigarette.

[demetriandelibinaryboyfriends]

What if after the party Hawk decided to get revenge by sharing Demetri's secrets as well. Demetri's mom let's him in when he's not home and he finds his journal. What he wasn't expecting was all of the pages about he regrets saying all of those things and he's pretty sure he's in love with him

Oof ouch there goes my goddamn HEART I didn’t need it anyway

I can honestly totally see this happening though??? Like Hawk slipping into “Eli mode” the same way he does to fool the school counselor and using that to break into Demetri’s house because he’s counting on Demetri not being able to bear to tell his mom the full extent of how bad things have gotten with “good old Eli”...and Hawk’s absolutely right. The most Demetri has mentioned to his mom is that there’s been a “bit of tension” and “Eli and I have been arguing a lot.” So of course Hawk gleefully goes up to his room to find the most embarrassing dirt he can and get the most epic vengeance.

And, sure enough, there’s Demetri’s goddamn diary. Of course he would keep a diary, the lame fucking nerd. Who the hell even keeps diaries anymore??? And he reads it from the beginning, and realizing the first half or so is from when they were still best friends. It’s a lot of geek nonsense, rants about video games and Lord of the Rings and what have you, sometimes drawing parallels between scenes from his own life being harassed by Kyler and the plight of Middle Earth being ruled by Sauron. All typical nerdy Demetri. But...there’s also a lot about Eli. About some present he got for Eli that he’d been especially excited about. About how proud he was of Eli for winning that coding competition with him. About how frustrated he was that he couldn’t stand up for Eli more against the bullies. About how much he hated that Eli felt like he needed to constantly cover the scar above his lip. How grateful he really was to have Eli around because “at least someone will listen to my ingenious insight!!!”

And then comes the fateful school year everything changed. Hawk reads through Demetri’s confused delight at Miguel befriending them and seeming to genuinely enjoy having them both around. He reads through Demetri’s bafflement at the emergence of Hawk, and his barely-concealed terror that his best friend would decide he didn’t want someone like Demetri around anymore, now that more people liked him. He reads through Demetri’s concern at Eli’s anger slowly boiling up into something violent and unnerving. He reads through Demetri’s betrayal at Eli blowing him off after Demetri was assaulted by Kreese, and his worry at having his two best friends training with a man who has no issue beating up random high schoolers off the street. He reads through how lost Demetri was after Eli jumped him in the mall, desolate and spiraling and feeling like he’d never quite feel whole again. How broken Demetri had felt looking at Eli’s nearly-unconscious body on the food court floor. 

And then comes a long ramble about the latest season of Doctor Who, and--Hawk notes with an oddly painful twinge--how much Eli would love it. “He’s all about badassery now, he’d be SO into this if I could get him to watch it.” And then a long, giddy ramble about how maybe this is how he’s finally going to get through to Eli--how he’s going to get his Eli back. How he missed him so much he barely knows how to function anymore.

And then come the pages after that fateful party, the one where things almost went right and then everything went so very wrong. It’s just line after line of things to the gist of “Oh, god. I fucked up. I fucked up. I fucked up SO fucking bad. I’m a piece of shit.” Even after everything that’s happened between them, Eli feels himself getting...alarmed. Demetri is never this...concise. Or vulgar. He prides himself on being wordy and pretentious, and not having to curse to make a point. Now it’s like he can’t stop swearing, can’t stop repeating what a piece of shit he is. Which can really only mean he’s gotten so emotional and fallen so deep into devastation that it’s somehow temporarily overridden one of the most prominent parts of his personality.

The last line in the journal is “I never even fucking told him I’m in love with him. He’d fucking kill me if he knew. He’d be so disgusted. But I wish I’d said something anyways. Is that fucking stupid?” Hawk just...slams the journal shut and sits there for several minutes, having no clue what the fuck to do now.

Okay bUT IMAGINE THIS ISN’T EVEN AN AU AND HAWK ACTUALLY READS ALL THIS AND STILL HUNTS DOWN DEMETRI AT THE SCHOOL FIGHT AND LATER BREAKS HIS ARM, HOW UPSETTING WOULD THAT BE

The fucked part is I could SEE it, like this kid already projects all the “pussy nerd shit” he hates about himself onto poor Demetri, like imagine the internalized homophobia??? This kid who wants to seem like the most macho tough guy ALIVE must have??? And imagine he has/had a crush on Demetri and has been suppressing it like there’s no tomorrow and now oh god oh FUCK he has to be reminded of it??? And these feelings are just yet ANOTHER part of his past self that Hawk hates, and with the love Demetri feels for him...well, how could Demetri more PERFECTLY and COMPLETELY represent the “weak” parts of himself that Hawk now despises??? And Demetri becomes Hawk’s absolute prime target after that, because he HATES what he sees of his past self in Demetri and, most of all, he HATES that all of that is still there inside of him. By making a bitter enemy of Demetri, he figures, by alienating him and antagonizing him to the point where any connection they ever had or could ever have is completely broken, maybe he can finally be free of being that Weak-Ass Lame Gay Nerd that nobody liked and everybody mocked.

On a slightly happier note, maybe seeing that final journal entry is part of what spurred Hawk’s eventual change of heart. Like he’s just watching the destruction around him caused by the Cobra Kai kids, and remembers Johnny saying that Kreese doesn’t give a shit about him. And he just has this epiphany like “Demetri loves me.” (And he knows this has to be true, because he was never meant to see it. No reason for Demetri to lie in the privacy of his own journal. No manipulation or tricks here...not like what Kreese has learned how to pull.) “No one at Kreese’s Cobra Kai ever did.”

And he decides in that moment he’s going to fight for a person who loves him as he is, rather than a person who only likes the image that he made for himself to feel like he could be something other people respected. Hawk still doesn’t love the weaker parts of himself, the more vulnerable parts, the parts that people can easily jeer at and mock and use to make him feel awful about himself--but maybe if Demetri sees something worth loving, then Hawk eventually can, too.

[oharascholar]

Why Sanji meeting Yamato has LGBTQ+ readers on edge - Scholar’s Summaries #1

(Image originally posted to Tumblr by user Rumenta)

As the Wano arc in One Piece progresses steadily, the cast of the series expands ever more. Amongst the unique cast of new characters, we meet Kaido’s Son - Yamato, a young man who wishes to be just like the beloved ex-hero of the country, a man named Oden.

Yamato is an exciting character to see for many LGBTQ+ people like myself. He is a man who was assigned female at birth, who has plump lips, long eyelashes, and breasts. This, to many LGBTQ+ readers, and definitely to myself, brings up the idea of masculine people being allowed to exhibit traditionally ‘female’ body parts, and a comforting reminder that you can be a man without paying for gender-affirming surgery or binding your chest. This speaks to me as a transmasc nonbinary person - I, too, was assigned female at birth, refer to myself as a man, and have a traditionally female body in the same way. I do not once think of myself as a woman.

(One Piece Chapter 984, page 17 of 17. First published in Weekly Shonen Jump 2020, issue 31)

My opinion of Yamato thus far, as a transmasc nonbinary person, has been entirely positive - I enjoy seeing a man who is openly referred to as a man in universe (for example, ‘Kaido’s Son’), who has features which are traditionally seen as non-masculine. It is how I feel about my own body - I rarely give a second thought to the fact that I have breasts. They don’t make me any less masculine, and I tend not to dwell on them at all. It makes me feel happy to see a character who I can truly relate to on such a personal level.

Yamato is a positively portrayed character in the series, and is a supporting character to our main protagonist, Luffy. He plays an important role in fighting against the main villain of this arc. He was even shown to be good friends with Portgaz D. Ace, one of the most beloved supporting characters in the series - even giving Ace the much important ‘vivre card’ which played a vital role in the Marineford Arc. Yamato is given plot importance within the story as a whole with this, linking him throughout the story.

(One Piece Chapter 1000, page 9 of 19 first published in Weekly Shonen Jump 2021, issue 5-6)

It is also easy, as a transmasc person, to read heavily into Yamato’s situation with his father. Initially, it seems positive - Kaido refers to Yamato as his son openly. To an outsider, Kaido accepts Yamato’s identity... Then enter the ‘Oden’ issue.

Yamato wishes to be just like Kozuki Oden on all fronts, changing his appearance to try and look just like him. This part of Yamato’s identity has caused contemption in Kaido, with Yamato even recounting that Kaido would beat him over it. Ever since Yamato first wanted to be like Oden, from the age of eight, Kaido has kept him shackled up inside of his residence.

Yamato states that he can’t truly be Oden until he is free of his shackles given to him by his father. To many, this strikes as a direct parallel towards living in a transphobic household.

When Luffy, a character who has represented liberation throughout the series, first tries to remove these shackles, Yamato is instinctively afraid. He explains that the shackles will explode, and that they’ve been on him for twenty years. He also ponders if he is being kept in by a lie - wondering if his father would really let his son be blown up for merely leaving the island.

(One Piece Chapter 985, page 9 of 19. First published in Weekly Shonen Jump 2020, issue 33-34)

No matter how you put it, Yamato is transgender. Though it has not been officially stated as such, it seems to be heavily implied that he is a transgender man, without issue.

Yamato instinctively wants to keep the status quo, one which technically keeps him safe, at the expense of his identity and freedom. The danger, of course, is purely created by his father. This something which many transgender people can resonate with, the idea of staying ‘in the closet’ so as to not cause contemption within your family.

Luffy removes the shackles and throws them away, causing them to explode - this event causes Yamato to become enraged and upset, stating that he no longer thinks of Kaido as his father. This is a powerful moment, the act of breaking the ties with an abusive parent who does not accept his identity.

It is important to be aware of why Elizabeth or Tibany was so offensive, whilst Yamato feels progressive. Transgender women in media are often presented as predatory, as if they were men in dresses who only want to prey on young men, and Elizabeth is a prime example of the worst of this transmysogynistic stereotype. Had this character been on their lonesome, along a multitude of other transgender women with different body types, and had Elizabeth not been predatory, this would be a fine character. Transgender women and transfem people as a whole should not feel guilty to exhibit as much body hair as they like, and to have as deep of a voice as they like, without worry of being mocked or ridicule. 

… Or, without issue, so far.

Sanji appears to be on a direct collision course for one Young Master Yamato, which puts a lot of anxiety into LGBTQ+ readers. Rightfully so, as in the past, Sanji has been used as a vehicle for horrific transphobia in the series, as touched on by the One Piece Podcast in text and in audio. This alone brings up multiple concerns - the most worrying of all is the possibility that Yamato has been a long setup for a particularly horrific transphobic punchline. The author, Eiichiro Oda, has been more than capable of writing transphobia into his series before, such as with the character Elizabeth (or Tibany, as this character is known in the manga), a transgender woman coded character who is a walking offensive stereotype - even acting in a predatory way towards young men. There is definitely a certain validity behind such worries.

But, when the only representation in this part of One Piece is predatory people with deep voices and stubble all over, you can see why this is completely different to Yamato exhibiting breasts and such.

(Chapter 543, page 1 of 20. First published in Weekly Shonen Jump 2009, issue 26 / Chapter 994, page 17 or 17, first published in Weekly Shonen Jump 2020, issue 48)

Another concerning path is that Sanji will see Yamato and fawn all over him - only for him to act horrified and disgusted upon hearing Yamato affirm that he is a man. During the infamous Fishman Island arc, Sanji had a life-saving blood transfusion given to him by two transgender-coded women - this alone was enough for him to start screaming and flipping himself around the bed in horror - a truly upsetting act of transmisogyny that many agree should never have been put in the series at all.

However, our combined worries may be for nothing. Oda has also written nonbinary and transgender characters who have been delightful to witness, and have been much accepted and adored by the LGBTQ+ community as a whole - Characters such as Bentham, a character who can shapeshift and monologues about their gender, or Kiku, a transgender woman in the current arc, who has been portrayed respectfully thus far, being in the series for almost 100 chapters. There is still hope that Oda has changed his ways from his dark Fishman Island Days.

In the most hopeful outcome, this meeting will serve as a character growth point - Sanji has matured as a character, and is ready to treat transgender people as human beings. This outcome seems tantalisingly possible to me, especially since characters will openly reffer to Yamato as male without issue.

(One Piece Chapter 979, page 14 of 17. First Published in Weekly Shonen Jump 2020, issue 23.)

Another hopeful outcome is that Sanji will simply not address it - but it certainly seems intentional that Oda has sent Sanji specifically towards Yamato, and I am certain that there is a reason. But, notably, Sanji had a meeting with Kiku in a similar vein, and nothing of note happened in that interaction.

I myself dearly hope that the day will not come where I look at this article and think, ‘This has aged horribly.’. I have a lot of faith in Eiichiro Oda to do the right thing - especially since almost 10 years has passed since his last major act of transphobia and transmisogyny. Surely, in today’s climate, and with the progressive nature of One Piece as a whole, he has learnt and is ready to write the LGBTQ+ characters that are respectful and progressive as a whole, without falling back on poor-taste punchlines.

As for now, only time will tell the true nature of Eiichiro Oda in 2021. Or, as many of us like to put it … "Who knows with this guy?!"

-

The Ohara Scholar / Róisí “Puppy” Law, 17th April 2021

[closer-stars]

Heart of Depth (3)

Member: Yeosang Genre: Action, Slice of Life, Fantasy, Fluff, a little tension. Genshin Inspired AU Word Count: 9k Requested: Sort of yeah Content: Yeosang x MC development. More world building. Food stuff. A little bit of crime stuff, some history, some art info dump, some typical genshin shenanigans. Mild Violence (aka haha WooSanSang being badasses). Allusions to death. Note: Had to cut down part 3, it’s actually a lot longer originally lol. Inazuma’s been insane content. HoD was supposed to be 5 parts but considering how lengthy the parts have become it might be longer oops. Links to be updated after 24 hours. Life update: kinda got a slightly consistent work now so been focused on that. I hope this tides everyone over until I make a better return. Network: @ateezlovenet Tag list: @barsformars @miniyeo @jeongyunhoed @yeekies @yeotlny @frankenstein852 @shinyddeonghwa @prodbyteez @yeochikin @yeocult @harubirus

Part 2

“Yeosang, you might have to skip on meeting with them today.” 

He looks up from his screen, peering at San several feet away from him. “Why?” 

The good thing about San is that he’s unfazed when Yeosang uses that tone on him. He doesn’t cower when it comes to it, besides, there’s a special voice he uses when he’s genuinely angry. “Looks like there’s something special going on in the museum’s garden at night.” San explains. He already learned the hard way to not speak in riddles to him, but there were things that were better off spoken with mind games. “Check your email, I sent you the notice.” He says, shifting his attention to other matters on his plate. 

There’s something in San’s voice that makes Yeosang want to groan. Usually, this means San’s got some sort of trick up his sleeve when some sort of misdemeanor has been happening-- though the last time San had to speak in riddles over something serious was a few thousand years back. To cut the agony short, Yeosang shifts his attention to his emails, already the email San has forwarded sits at the top. 

It’s been a recurring incident for the past few weeks now. It’s only now that the museum have found the source of the smell. There’s been a peculiar flower that only blooms at night, emitting a scent similar to lavender, despite not looking like the mentioned plant. Though no one knows what flower is, the only response the staff has at the moment was to leave it be and wait for further instructions from the board. The photos attached to the notice made it easy for San to recognize it, all the man was waiting for was for Yeosang to see the photos too. 

His demeanor changes almost immediately once it registers in his head. That’s his lover’s flower, the Neve Jewel. It’s blooming again. Truthfully, Yeosang didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He didn’t really think they would’ve kept their promise after all this time. He stares at the images. He knows that glow, the shape, the colors all too well. All that’s left is the scent, it’s been so long since he smelled those flowers, now all but a lingering feeling in his dreams. Deep blue eyes lay unmoving on his computer screen as he tries to process waves of emotions in him. San waits in his seat quietly, even if his fingers tap away into processing permits and other papers, he worries for how Yeosang would take this. “I’ll let them know that I’ll be late today.” Yeosang states,already writing a message for you. 

Did San think he’d do anything different? Not quite. Even with the change of schedules, he knows how much Yeosang looks forward to seeing you everyday. He also knows how the man will do anything for those he loves. He can’t comprehend how he’s been able to have such self-control since their passing. He would always visit the tombstone of his lover up until the earth had decided to give birth to new life. 

[ Yeosang to You ] My dear, I’m afraid I won't be able to see you until after your closing hours. 

“San, can you get me the iced cafe latte along with a slice of their strawberry cheesecake?”  He would have to wait until night falls for him to catch sight of the flowers. He has feelings for you, that much he is sure. Whether or not you are who he thinks he is, how you’ve been towards him.

“Now?” San asks, rising from his seat and about to grab his jacket. 

“That would be nice, yes.” He says as he busies himself with an email, for the changes in the schedule for today. With that settled, San’s already off to your shop. 

---------

Just as San enters your shop, he’s amazed at the booming activity. All the tables were filled with various groups of people. He wondered what was so special about today. As he approached the counter, you had just finished packing up an order for takeout. While you seem to manage just fine on your own: taking orders and making drinks, it’s definitely not an easy task. 

“Today’s bustling I see.” San says as you immediately rush over after washing your hands. 

“San!” You exclaim, a little relieved for some sense of familiarity after the hectic peak hours. He sees your shoulders drop a little and he flashes a wide smile, glad to be of some relief to you. “Yeah, I asked some of the regulars what’s going on today and it seems like they have finals week coming up so everyone’s just been so busy with their studies.” You shrug as you explain. You were done with university so that aspect of those years are long behind you now. “Anyways, the usual?” 

“Not quite? Two iced cafe lattes, one slice of chocolate mousse and one slice of the strawberry cheesecake.” You nod and after the transaction’s made, you let him wait by the far end of the counter as you get to doing the coffee. 

He leans against the counter as he waits for his purchase. As time passes by, he looks around the place, watching regular humans go about their daily stresses. From the corner of his eye, he spots a familiar insignia on someone’s laptop. The owner’s hunched over, visibly lacking sleep as they seem to try beating their deadlines. He gazes at them for some time until he turns away, not wanting to think too much about it especially in front of all these people. 

“Here’s your order. I added some cookies as well, those are on the house.” You explain upon seeing his confused expression. He flashes a bashful smile in thanks. 

“Yeosang might come by later tonight.” He states. The sight of your flustered expression makes him smirk. “Has he already asked you to be his?” His light laugh rings in your ears and he stops teasing you. 

“Wooyoung might be here instead later. I have to run a few errands today.” You relay to him to which San acknowledges to send to Yeosang. Just feels like the old days. 

He should also probably relay to Yeosang the symbol he saw earlier. 

--------

“Yeosang, we need to--” San’s words are cut short when he’s greeted by the sponsors in their office. He sets aside the food bought from your shop and greets the visitors properly, throwing out any sense of concern in his body. 

“Ah yes, Mr. Choi just came back from an errand. Mr. Choi, I would like you to meet the representatives of the Museum of Ancient Art. I’m sure you’ve talked with them through the emails?” Yeosang says, voice going a little deeper as it usually does in front of formal visitors. If they weren’t in front of him, he would’ve laughed at how Yeosang still tries his best to assert himself. An eons old god, still trying to assert himself, if Yeosang only knew how much respect and intimidation he exudes. 

San approaches the two that he has constantly talked with through their online exchanges, relieved to have faces to their names. That’s right, he remembers now. A meeting with the Museum of Ancient Art to see which collections they can exchange with and how to promote each other in their respective areas. He just hopes this meeting ends as soon as possible because he finally recognizes the insignia from earlier. 

--------

The meeting lasts for two hours. Thankfully, it was a meeting that wasn’t the type that could’ve just been over email. The four of them rise from their seats, delighted to have finished a fruitful meeting on time. After San walks them out of the building, he hurries back in, and already Yeosang’s eating his slice of cake with his coffee. 

“We have no other meeting after that right?” San says as he brings his share to his table, leaning against his seat after such a tiring discussion-- not even a museum tour for students had worn him out that much. 

“None, so we will be here until after closing to check on the discussed flower.” Yeosang after sipping his coffee. “There was something you wanted to tell me, yes?” 

This gets San back into business mode, stern lines on his face as he faces Yeosang who busies himself with his cake. “Yeah, I saw someone in their shop, with the same insignia as the one that did a break in a few weeks back.” 

Yeosang’s eyes are on his coffee and half eaten cake as he listens to San’s encounter. This doesn’t feel right. Once he catches a glimpse of the flower, he’ll rush over to your shop. “I’ll drop by their shop afterwards.” He simply says. 

San takes the chance to look at his companion carefully. Behind the calm eyes already a storm rages, there’s tension in his neck and arms. If he’s right, then it’s only a matter of time. 

“We’ll discuss this at my place after tonight’s activities.” He simply ends the conversation there, taking another bite of his cake. 

“We’re still visiting their shop after?” It was a bit of a surprise for San to hear Yeosang wanting to go out of his way. Then again, why was San even surprised by anything anymore. This is Yeosang, he’s talking to. Also, with what San saw, archons know just how much turmoil there is inside Yeosang.

“If it’s possible, yes.” Yeosang closes his eyes as he drinks his latte. That’s enough for San to know to leave Yeosang to the privacy of his thoughts. Now all that’s left to do is wait until closing time. 

As San looks away from him, he shifts his view to his computer, then to his phone. It’s a little odd that you haven’t replied to his messages. Despite his calm facade, he’s stressed. If his assumptions are right, you’re being targeted, for reasons that are yet unknown to him. 

[ Yeosang to Wooyoung ] Are you working in the shop right now? 

[ Wooyoung to Yeosang ] on my way to the shop! Need me to prepare an order for you guys?

He stops for a moment, wondering the proper wording to make sure Wooyoung doesn’t panic as much as he is right now. 

[ Yeosang to Wooyoung ] Maybe later should San and I make it after today’s itinerary. I was simply wondering since they haven’t replied to me today. 

He stares at his phone screen for another moment. 

[ Yeosang to Wooyoung ] We’ll let you know. 

He has thirty more minutes before the museum is deserted. For now, he’ll make the most out of his cake. He’s not quite sure anymore if peace will last long from now on. 

--------

San takes the lead tonight. He asks one of the security guards to direct him and Yeosang to where in the garden was this strange flower located. Yeosang follows the male a few steps behind. His hands hidden in the pockets of his coat, he doesn’t want anyone to see just how tense he was. 

“It was spotted in this area, sir. The smell leads you to the plant.” The security guard informs them as he gestures to the general area.

San nods, taking note of his advice, already he catches a waft of the scent. He doesn’t need to look at Yeosang to know how on edge he was. “We can manage on our own from here. Thanks.” San promises, as he dismisses the guard, to return to his duty. As the security guard leaves the two alone, he glances at Yeosang. “Do you want to be alone?” The archon shakes his head. He sniffs the air for a moment. The scent takes him back to the memories of eons past. Simpler times, he assumes. 

From there, the two of them follow the scent. It’s a sharp contrast from all the turpentine and antique materials they’ve been exposed to since the museum was built. In today’s standards, the Neve Jewel would remind the regular people of an untouched field in the mountains. Though it is similar to lavender, it is still something that would even make those who love the said herb doubt that it is lavender that they’re smelling. 

From there, they see a faint glow against the dim lighting in the garden. A soft glow of cool blues bounce onto the ground from where the flower resides. San sits by the bench across the flower as Yeosang approaches the plant. 

It’s just like how he remembers it, just like the painting he showed you. It’s still the same after all these years. Yeosang hears nothing but the rush of blood in his ears. He’s too scared to touch the flower, fearing that it would be reduced to nothing-- that this would just be a sick dream his mind conjured. 

“It’s real, Yeosang.” San says softly, as he watches his friend gaze at the flower in disbelief. 

Yeosang snaps out of his thoughts and stands up. “I think I got all the proof I need.” He says softly. He stretches his legs, now reaching his full height. “Let’s go visit the shop.” 

--------

Yeosang parks his car a few steps away from your shop. The warm glow from the lights lets him hope that you’re still inside. He and San enter the shop, only to be greeted by Wooyoung mopping up the floor. “Oh, thought the two of you wouldn’t come. Want the usual?” He asks, the surprised look on their faces doesn’t slip by him. “Looking for Popsicle?'' Wooyoung asks, leaning his hand against the top of the mop.

“Popsicle..” San repeats, thoroughly confused but Yeosang catches his reference fairly quickly. 

“Didn’t think you’d give them that nickname.” He muses, already handing his card to Wooyoung who is already making his way to the counter. 

“Man, they call me Sparky, it’s even.” Wooyoung counters. He didn’t really think he’d reveal himself like that but alas, it’s been done. 

“Creative nicknames.” San comments, amusement in his tone. 

“Happens to the best of us.” With that, Wooyoung busies himself whipping up their orders. “Popsicle left early for personal errands and to try out some personal recipes, to see if they can add it to the seasonal menu.” He explains above the whirring of the coffee machine. “Also, apparently it was a busy day so they weren’t able to reply to any of our messages.”

Yeosang, unaware of some of the changes, inevitably trips against a potted plant. From the sudden cold feeling against his leg, Wooyoung probably had watered this just a few minutes ago. His resigned sigh catches San’s attention and notices his trousers have been, quite literally, soiled. “Uhhh, Wooyoung?” San calls out, a little concerned for the cleanliness of his peer’s outfit and the shop’s. 

“What-- Oh.” Wooyoung sees the mess and Yeosang says nothing but an apologetic bow. “I can clean it up once it dries up. Cleaning up wet soil just makes a bigger mess.” He points out. Unfortunately for him, this means staying in the shop longer when he can be in his bed, underneath his comfy blankets. 

“I can be of assistance.” The archon speaks up. San looks at his friend in alarm, hoping that he won’t give away what he really is but he pays him no heed. Wooyoung eyes him in confusion. 

With a flick of his wrist, his watch extends into a double ended scythes, his reflexes this time faster than earlier. He dips the edge of the blade against the spilled mud then against his pants, making sure to not nick at the fabric. The water from the damp dirt envelops the blade quickly, turning from an opaque brown color to clear and clean water. 

He lifts one end of the scythe from his pants and tips into the pot, the water dripping in as carefully as possible. Once successful, he taps the end of the scythe’s pole against the ground and immediately returns to a watch. 

Wooyoung watches the entire scene, speechless and confused by the entire spectacle-- though more of the fact Yeosang knows how to wield a scythe. “Does San know how to use a weapon too?” This wasn’t what he was supposed to ask but it will do for now.

“Just a sword staff.” San returns in equal nonchalance as Yeosang, in hopes that it wouldn’t make Wooyoung lose his mind. Instead though, Wooyoung lets out a low whistle, impressed at the two’s experience of handling rare weapons-- well he assumed they were rare. For he went with a great sword while you were something along the lines of a mage. To be honest, you didn’t really know how to describe your choice either. 

“Okay but, Yeosang, your pants are dirty and you used the blade against the fabric. Aren’t they expensive?” Wooyoung’s not entirely sure at this point of how to remedy the situation, one foot already at the direction of the broom to clean up the now dried soil. He’s not entirely shocked that Yeosang knows how to deal with water, his hydro vision hangs by his waist. He was more shocked with the scythe and the possibly damaged clothes. How he did that so willingly, maybe it’s the perk of being rich. 

Yeosang waves his hand dismissively about his concern. “Nothing to worry about. I know someone who can clean this without sacrificing the quality. To ease your wary heart, I barely touched the blade against the pant leg. It’s still perfectly fine.” 

Of course, he’d know someone. The rich always do. 

“What brand are you even wearing?” 

“Cucinelli.” 

With that mentioned, Wooyoung stands up and leaves the two for a moment. The abrupt exit leaves the two surprised and concerned. He returns with a broom in hand, cleaning up the soil and putting it back into the pot. The brand name alone tells him everything he needs to know about how much the pants were. “Is it really that expensive?” Yeosang asks, a little surprised by Wooyoung’s sudden lack of response. 

He doesn’t answer for a moment. “It’s enough to cover rent for a few months yeah.” 

This makes the archon ponder for a moment. Truly there were things that he forgets from time to time about the differences in the lives of humans. 

---------

For the next hour the two of them fill in Wooyoung on what has happened in their day, when all of a sudden Yeosang perks up in alarm. 

Yeosang looks around, can never be too careful after all. “Did you see anyone with a symbol that depicts three intertwined knots?” Wooyoung just gives him a perplexed look. WIth the amount of people Wooyoung sees on the daily, it was rare that any of them would stand out to him. It was easier to spot people who stand out in a studio than in a coffee shop. 

“Huh? Maybe our Popsicle did but I don’t remember seeing anything like that, why?” 

This time, he wasn’t sure if he should be concerned or not. The things the two have talked about, especially in the art scene, doesn't faze him anymore. For all he knows, the insignia they’re asking about is an anonymous artist they want to work with.

San shakes his head. “Just a hunch about something. One of these days, we can tell you but for now, we need to go home. It’s late.” San reminds them as he glances at the time. 

By now, Wooyoung was already finished cleaning everything up. The paper and plastic packaging for their orders were in their hands and it’s on them to throw it. His reasoning? He already worked hard to keep this place clean and he’s stayed beyond work hours to wait for them just like you’d always do. 

Now that the lights were closed and the doors were locked with ample protection by Wooyoung, San looks around and sees an odd being a few feet away. “Yeosang.” He murmurs softly, eyes flitting towards the direction he needs to face. The amulet in his pocket feels a little heavier.

Across the street stood the members from the Abyss Order, their eyes glinting in the dark with a plan that would put Wooyoung in danger should they not act quickly. “Wooyoung, I need you to get in the car now. I’ll drive you home.” Yeosang orders, tryinggnn his best not to sound on edge to not scare the guy. Usually, he and San can take care of these members without anyone around them becoming collateral damage. He’s not sure either if Wooyoung has his sword with him. 

 “What? Nah, it’s okay. I can just walk or get a taxi.” Wooyoung reassures, standing up twirling the keys in his fingers. 

“Wooyoung, it’s an ord--” Before Yeosang could complete his sentence, San already has his sword staff up, creating a sturdy shield to block out the bullets that were fired at them. The boom and the lack of sound from impact makes Wooyoung look over immediately. San’s weapon stands at a roughly twelve feet tall pole alone, add the sword and it could have been eighteen feet in length. The human’s not quite sure as to how that happened but questions might be better put for later. 

“Ah shit.” Your friend mutters, unclasping his bracelet and already it shifts into a greatsword, taking up a length of six feet easily. “I don’t know what they are but they are not damaging this shop.” What’s scarier: these unknown threats or you screaming? 

He manages to block a few of the projectiles coming their way,much to the shock of the two immortals. “Got any plan? Preferably something that makes sure this shop is unscathed?” Wooyoung growls, returning the projectiles, with much more strength towards the perpetrators. This time, the heated projectiles combined with his element, exploding upon impact. His vision glows a sharp purple as he continues to use his element. 

Yeosang looks around, trying to figure out a plan. “Watch my back” He simply says. Immediately, San shifts to take his usual position behind the archon. Wooyoung on the other hand, still throws damage against the strange figures. “Wooyoung, keep exposing them to electricity.” 

The human grunts in acknowledgement, slightly frustrated that he can’t move around freely as he has to make sure the shop takes no damage. San jumps into action,using the bladed end of his staff to take out what seems to be a burly figure wielding an electro hammer who was lunging straight towards Yeosang. It doesn’t take much to know that the figure’s near gone with how hard it staggers back from the impact. 

Yeosang spins his scythe, and the blades start to get enveloped by water. As he swings his scythe, blades of water hone in on the figures, knocking them back upon impact and damaging their own weapons. This gives enough time for San to push forward and drive his staff down onto them: pinning them against a sudden burst of wind currents. The pressure making it hard for them to wriggle out of, yet they twitch insistently from the exposure to electricity and water. “Leave if you want to see another day.” Yeosang warns in a strange voice. Wooyoung’s not sure if his goosebumps are from the static on his sword or from the change in Yeosang’s attitude. 

The men-- from what Wooyoung can only presume, submit to his order, speaking of promises to not return to the area and other words that he can only assume were pleas of mercy. 

“Whoever sent you here, tell them of my regards.” Yeosang growls. He doesn’t need to lean forward to look them in the eye. From where he stands, waves of his power come off him slowly. Something in Wooyoung runs cold when he sees his eyes and the tips of his hair glow an intense blue-- a blue that reminds him of the deepest trenches in the ocean, as he restrains their movements even further with water. 

When the promises are made, San makes sure to look each perpetrator in the eye, memorizing their faces and features for the future. They can never tell when the tide changes. The male then loosens his restraints on the men, despite the blood and bruises they have he lets them go. Though personally, he would’ve sliced them into ribbons for coming into this part of the neighborhood. 

Once the three have scrambled away from them, Yeosang heaves a sigh. It’s been a little too long since he had tapped into his archaic abilities. He carefully switches his scythe back into a watch, clasping it around his wrist. Once it’s snug around his wrist, he checks the time. Past midnight. What a tiring day. San heaves a tired groan, tapping the end of his staff against the ground and it becomes a weaved ring on his pointer again. The archon walks to his car, unfortunately with a few dents and scratches. It will be a matter to be taken cared of for another day, for now: safety.

“Get in the car.” He has already put up a protective layer of water against your shop, making sure that any damage against your shop would be minimized. The three figures have already retreated but to leave Wooyoung alone would be a death wish. Wooyoung scratches his thumb against the base of his sword and it turns immediately into his bracelet. He makes sure everything else is clear then hops into the car, swinging the door shut as Yeosang steps on the gas. 

“Who were they?” Wooyoung exclaims as he falls back into his seat with an exhausted whine. His clothes were definitely a mess and the adrenaline’s starting to wear off “Shit, Popsicle.” He worries for your safety, especially after tonight’s run-in. He’s not sure if you’ll be able to fend for yourself on your own. 

“San will take care of them. It’s too dangerous for us to go get them right now.” He promises yet the edge in his voice doesn’t leave. He knows who they were but why they were there is what’s making him grip the steering wheel harder than he should. “Yeosang.” San’s voice immediately reminds him to breathe. “To answer your question, the ones we fought earlier are from the Abyss Order. They haven’t been making their presence known in years.” 

“So why now?” 

“We don’t know.” San replies in place for Yeosang. “That’s why we asked if you saw a three intertwined knot insignia earlier because I saw something when I went in during their shift.” The rest of the drive is quiet. The car slows down to an acceptable speed to avoid any road blocks along the way. 

“You’re staying the night in my place for now.” Yeosang explains much to Wooyoung’s shock. “It’s not safe for you to go back yet. Not until tomorrow morning at least. San will pick them up. He knows his ways around the roads here.” He continues, as he slowly parks his car in the complex’s parking lot. 

Wooyoung explains to San where the two of you live and San already has a mental image of it. “Any landmark?”

“A convenience store right next to a grandmother’s ramen shop.” 

“Okay, I’ll see you guys later.” San then jumps out of the car and onto the scaffoldings of the buildings.

Wait, this is where Yeosang stays? Wooyoung looks around the area: the cars look timeless, expensive as well. On the ground seems to be the numbers of the respective owner’s place. He shuts off the engine and unlocks the doors. “Tell them to bring what they need for the next few hours. I have a lot to explain.” 

---------

That’s how Wooyoung ended up staying in Yeosang’s place for the night. Yeosang cooks up a simple pasta for them, knowing that even San will sleep over for the night. Wooyoung offered to help but Yeosang had been stubborn enough to make him sit down and drink his tea after updating you with what had happened. 

The needed conversation had to happen with you around so to kill time, both men decided to know the other a little more beyond the coffee shop and art museum. 

“... I basically got my vision after realizing what I wanted to do with my life.” Wooyoung explains. It happened after having a conversation with you in high school. “We were fighting about whether or not I should try for the competition despite my injuries..” Go figure. He went all in for it, of course with your help to keep him grounded but it would seldom work as he tunnel visioned into his goal. The difference between your two favoured medium is in the longevity of the works. He accepted that dancing is one of the shortest living works. Three minutes on stage is different from three minutes through a screen. Yet, there he was wanting to make his name known for years to come despite the short lifespan of dance. “It was when I told little Ice Cube about it that my vision formed in my pocket.” 

“I did get my name out there, once we started studying in university.” He continues. “I rose up the dance crew quickly. Things are always different in real life as compared to recorded performances, yet there’s always something beyond as they would say.” He shrugs, trying his best to not sound like he’s bragging. “Now here I am, teaching some idols choreography while teaching passionate dancers in a studio with a part time in your shop.”

This makes Yeosang mull for a bit. He’s met the Electro Archon, with Wooyoung’s story it did fall in line with the Archon’s belief and virtue: to go beyond what Time can limit. It took a few thousand years to remind the mentioned Archon of their humanity though. Fortunately, they have thus the influx of electro users in the succeeding years. He wonders then, when did you get yours? The archon does not want to pry yet curiosity pesters his mind. “I’m assuming that they have gotten their vision prior to yours then?” 

The mortal looks at him with wide eyes. “They never told you how they got the cryo vision huh?” Wooyoung notes as he takes his time to study Yeosang’s place.. Yeosang busies himself by making himself a cup of tea, while Wooyoung an americano. He knows his skills in creating coffee would be sub-par compared to yours but for now, it will do for him. 

“I’m afraid not, though I am aware of the similarities of the lives led by cryo users.” Yeosang returns as he hands the mug to the other male. Each Archon hands a human or an adepti with a vision, usually done when the subject of interest has reached a point in their life that exhibits values worthy of their attention. For the Pyro archon, it would be due to the passion one carries despite all odds. For Yeosang, the hydro vision is gifted when the human exhibits the desire to better themselves. The Cryo archon was an oddball even after the changes, for those who receive the cryo vision are those who have gone through a certain loss that changes them in the long run. As if to help them survive what the world has done to them.

What did you lose? 

Wooyoung eyes the coffee in his hands with worry. Your story is not his story to share, but he can share parts of it from his eyes. “They started living with my family at a young age.” He starts. “It took them awhile to warm up to the family but no one forced the lil Popsicle to be happy.” The dazed wary look you would give his parents pained him even until now. “Despite that, they’ve been deadly protective of our parents and brothers. You were always willing to fight any one that tried to bully me or any of our other classmates.” He says with a soft laugh. Yeosang listens intently, the mere image of you, a small child, willing to protect those who were suffering, it would’ve been a sight to see. Wooyoung takes a careful sip, making sure to not burn his tongue. “Their family was known for their ventures in history, usually through art and any written records.” Wooyoung adds, looking up at the male across from him. There’s something in him that tells him that Yeosang isn’t any regular vision holder. “Can I ask something?” 

The question surprises the archon slightly but he gestures for Wooyoung to continue. He supposes that not everything can be told from another pair of eyes, best to be told by someone who has seen it all. 

“You’re not a regular human are you?” Wooyoung’s question makes him chuckle. 

“What made you ask?” Yeosang starts, eyeing the human with curiosity. 

“For starters, no one’s hair glows at the tips.” Wooyoung points out, tipping his head towards the fringe that frames his face. “Nor should the eyes” he adds, referring to the run in earlier. He doesn’t add the words Yeosang spoke of, thinking it could be twisted easily into his favor. “Also, this amount of money cannot be amassed in such a short year unless you’re from a rich family.” In the back of his mind, he was already making a plan of how to escape and warn you should this become a worst case scenario. He was about to list more before Yeosang cracks up. 

“Well, yes. You are correct. I am not.. A human entirely.” Though he does plan to live like one after this. 

“But you’re not.. An adepti either then? You don’t look like Ganyu.” Wooyoung points out. At least that removes the possibility of him being associated with the bad guys. What memories that name brings him. It’s been a long time since he’s heard from Ganyu. The last he’s seen her, she could pass off as a woman in her early fourties if it weren’t for the ruby horns that curled upwards from her head. Maybe he should pay her a visit in the near future. 

“An adepti can take on a form like Ganyu yes, but there are also adepti that can take on the forms of animals or look like regular humans. My dear friend San, is an adepti as well.” Yeosang counters calmly as he sips his tea. “Now, I trust their judgement, you are a trustworthy human, especially to have the electro vision. Dear Wooyoung,” he starts. The ways of proving that he was the archon without annihilating an entire area is usually limited for a human’s mind can be picky. He lets his eyes turn into wide saucers, too wide to be considered human, and for his skin acquires scales like that of a dragon. Wooyoung’s reaction tells him enough and he reverts himself back to that of a human. 

“You’re the hydro archon.” Wooyoung sputters out. 

“That is correct.” Yeosang nods calmly.

“Can I swear?” 

“Carry on.” 

“Holy shit.”

--------

The way San entered your apartment as well was enough to scare you for the next three days or so. He doesn’t tell you much, even in the safety of your own home. Only a “Let’s go. We’ll explain somewhere safer.” By then, you already had your things ready and kept everything in place. Your vision is securely strapped around your waist while your Regalia is on your wrist. 

You arrive in one piece thanks to San. He had you running through small roads and hidden spots around the city, to avoid prying eyes and wandering ears from seeing the two of you. 

At first glance, you assume that this was another regular apartment complex that maybe you staying at home was the better option. But when you enter the lobby, the smell alone tells you this more than a regular building. There’s a receptionist with three guards around the place, the pristine interiors softened by the warm lighting. You feel out of place in your regular sweats and hoodie, San on the other hand might be in a worse position. A wrinkled jacket, dress shirt that’s been dirty with his tie loosened, his shoes lost their luster and his hair was in slight disarray. A rare sight indeed. 

“Let’s go. They won’t mind you anyways as long as you’re with me.” San reassures you, sensing your discomfort when the staff pass a glance at you. He walks with you to the elevator and once the two of you are in the small box, he heaves a sigh of relief and exhaustion, leaning against the wall for some sense of support. 

“What exactly happened, San?” You ask. The concern in your voice makes him look over at you and for a moment, he thought he saw the previous archon in you. No wonder Yeosang’s been hung up about you. Yet, once he comes to his senses, it’s just the same you. A regular human who carries the cryo vision, yet he could also see why Yeosang would like you regardless of your potential history. 

The rising elevator makes your ears pop, thankfully you manage to hear him say, “We’ll talk about it in Yeosang’s place. Wooyoung’s there as well.” He repeats. There’s no hint of unperceived danger in his voice yet it puts you on the edge. 

The lift rings, notifying them of their arrival. He gestures for you to walk ahead of him, mostly out of your own safety to make sure nothing comes running at you from behind. “2411” The man behind you says, and so you look for the number. It’s deep into the hallway when you finally see his place. San takes the chance to knock on the door thrice, and without missing a beat, it’s Wooyoung that greets the two of you-- slightly worse for wear but nothing you can’t fix. 

He sighs in relief, seeing you in one piece along with San and he lets the two of you in. “I brought your stuff.” You say, handing his duffle bag to him and he manages to let out a sound of relief.

“Yeosang! I’ll go ahead and shower!” He calls out, leaving you and San alone with him. The way Wooyoung has become so casual and comfortable with him doesn’t surprise you anymore. 

San takes up the stool Wooyoung left, you sitting next to him as you try to make sense of his apartment. The wide view of the skyline from wall to wall in the living room was enough to make your head swim with a fear of heights. The colors were on the whites and browns with the occasional accent of black. His kitchen didn’t really help quell your curiosity of just how rich he was. It’s only now that Wooyoung’s words were settling into your head. He’s rich and if your guess is right, he’s probably part of the 0.5% of society. There is no way he can pay for the upkeep of this apartment easily unless he was part of that aspect of society. 

Your eyes return to him as he serves the two of you some of the pasta he had made earlier. “Eat while it’s still hot.” He says for now. San doesn’t mind your questioning gaze on his friend but Yeosang tries not to cave in. Not yet. “I will explain everything once everyone’s cleaned up. It will be a long night for you and Wooyoung especially.” He leaves no room for arguments, and it takes a moment for the archon to realize that he’s using his business voice again. He rubs the back of his neck, albeit uncharacteristic of him as he tried to assert his calm nature just moments ago. “I will take a shower for now, don’t rush your meal for tonight.” Thus leaving the two of you on your own. 

---------

The water runs hot against his skin but the temperature doesn't faze him, steam has already coated the mirrors and the glass tiles. He just stares blankly at the murky rivulets that run down his body and to the drain. Questions still ring in his head as to what could’ve happened, why did it happen, and what had happened. You’d think an aged archon such as he could see the answers easily, yet there’s one thing he can never get right. Humans and their “sense” of logic, the claimed hardest to sway yet here he is wondering why things went the way they did with the adrenaline from the battle wearing off as the hot water relaxes his muscles. 

What was in the store that the Abyss Order thought was of importance? Was it you? 

As much as he loves being with water, he hates how it would remind him of many memories he tries to push away they still come back. Ironic really how water always is in motion, yet he can’t seem to just move on from what has happened years back. He snaps out of his thoughts and finishes washing up for the night, his dirty clothes tossed into the hamper as he changes into his sleep wear for the night. 

One day, the memories won’t hurt anymore. For now, he lets them hurt until the pain ebbs away. He lets himself mourn the pain for a few moments before coming back to reality. He can’t let himself mourn more than needed, there are things he needs to attend to first. 

When he comes back to the kitchen, it’s Wooyoung who is now keeping you company and from the looks of things, he was filling you in on what had happened to the best of his ability. 

“Really,” you sigh, drying your plate as you eye him with concern. “Thank goodness, you had your bracelet on you today. Let me check you for injuries.” You chastise him, not taking a no for an answer as you give his body a quick scan. 

“Ice cube, I think you should be checking on San and Yeosang-- Ow!” He yelps, when he feels your hand press on his shoulder. 

“Did you handle your sword the wrong way again?” You ask, spreading a thin layer of ice on his skin, akin to a muscle relaxant strip. 

The way you know him so well makes him pout. “Maybe..” He mutters, he waits for an earful that never comes. Instead, your attention shifted to Yeosang who has been watching the two of you bicker for what could’ve been this entire time. 

“Oh hey, Yeosang. I was telling them what had happened earlier, well at least the ones I understand.” He changed his seat so that Yeosang could sit next to you. 

Little shit. 

“You didn’t have to clean up.” He says, thanking Wooyoung for the seat. He doesn’t stop you though, you were practically finished with the job anyways. 

“It’s fine. It’s the least I can do. San went to clean himself up a few minutes ago.” You take your seat after cleaning up the dishes, you don’t miss the chance to shoot Wooyoung a glare at his motive though. 

“Then he’ll most likely return in ten minutes. Wooyoung, what have you told them thus far? Just so San and I can fill them in on any questions they might have.” 

“Mostly the fight, what the guys looked like, and your weapons.” He says, a little too enthusiastically thus causing the two of you to look at him with raised eyebrows. “What? It’s not everyday you see a double ended scythe and a sword staff three times taller than San.” 

“I heard that.” A pointed voice comes out from behind the. It was San, fresh out of the shower with an empty look of annoyance on his face. 

“Well, now that we’re here. I suppose we can get started.” 

The four of you take comfort in the living room as this could be a very long discussion. Well, to be specific, it’s only San that manages to find comfort on the couch, lounging on one side like a lazy cat while you and Wooyoung are still in shock over the quality of the place alone. The two of you sit carefully on the couch, Yeosang decides to sit across the two of you. The archon already seems burdened, wondering how else to go about this. 

“For starters,” San suggests. “I think it would be a good idea to tell you that I saw someone at your shop with the insignia on their laptop. It’s safe to guess that they’re part of the Abyss Order.” 

You look at him in confusion. The name rings faint bells but not quite what you were looking for. “The what?” You ask, shifting your glance to Yeosang. The immortals wonder if they saw a spark of fear flash before your eyes as you try to make sense of the situation. 

“The Abyss Order, my dear, they’re a long running organization. They started from wanting to topple Celestia, to wanting to take down the Archons.” It was the simplest way Yeosang could put it. The complete run down of history could take longer than a night and he doubts you and Wooyoung could take so much information within a short period of time. “Their insignia has changed over time. They work in the shadows, feeding opposing ideas to humans in subtle ways that reach the communal consciousness.” There have been certain forms of media that have come out that romanticize questionable lifestyles and choices, that only a handful can tell the Abyss had a hand in them.

“So why were they at my shop? I’m just a regular human trying to make ends meet and make my dreams come true” You say. 

“Regular my butt. Ice Cube, we have visions, I don’t really think we’re regular.” Wooyoung snorts. He has a point, vision carriers weren’t that common. “But that is a good question.” He says after a jab to his side thanks to you. 

Yeosang cups his chin in thought. “My guess is because of San and I.” He returns calmly. “Well, to be exact, me.” 

Wooyoung’s head starts to work into overdrive. “Wait, right.” He cuts his own words off, groaning into his hands. San starts to find his own nails interesting as the conversation shifts to this. Unfortunately you were still unable to make sense out of everything. How could you, your night went from San telling you to pack up, to running through unknown streets, to seeing the three of them in a slightly worse for wear situation to a multimillion apartment.

“Can someone please explain?” You plead, your patience running thin. You don’t like being kept in the dark. You don’t like the familiar feeling of frustration and powerless feeling it brings. 

“My dear, I don’t know how else to say this but I, Kang Yeosang, am the Hydro Archon.” As he reveals this, his eyes glow into the colors of the ocean, with his pupils widening more than normal,  streaks of ice blue against a deeper blue green hue. If you look any closer, you might be able to see hints of white, just like sea foam in his eyes. His skin forms patches of scales on his forearms, but the metamorphosis stops there. He’d rather not turn into full form and cause property damage. “I’ve been the one responsible for giving Hydro visions for as long as I can remember.” He manages to rasp out, his voice now rather hoarse due to the partial transformation.  

Your eyes grow wide, somehow this makes sense and at the same time it doesn’t. This explains his extensive knowledge of history yet at the same time, it’s a struggle to wrap your mind around the mere fact you’ve been catching feelings for an immortal being. Of all beings to fall for, it had to be the Archon. It couldn’t have been someone like Wooyoung but then again, do you really want that?

“He wields a double scythe by the way.” Wooyoung comments under his breath. That part, you can take in stride, your best friend handles a great sword while you used something akin to a floating orb. 

“But wait, you said initially, this Abyss Order’s targets were you and San. Is San an Archon too?” You ask. If he was the Anemo Archon, you might have to cut this discussion short-- it’s been a hectic and eventful day.

“I was offered, but I turned it down.” San says with a shrug. “I prefer just being something like a guardian of a region rather than overseeing the entire world.” He doesn’t continue the story and instead stretches his body out like a cat lazing under the sun.

Yeosang slowly transforms back into that of a regular human. “That’s as far as my guess goes, that I’m the primary target. Anything else is unfortunately beyond my knowledge.” He hasn’t kept in contact with the other archons either so it’s anyone’s guess at this point.

“So what now?” You ask. “I really can’t just stay at my shop 24/7. Wooyoung can’t either, besides the shop, he works at a dance studio too, remember?” 

Yeosang stays silent for a while, thinking through possible remedies for the time being. “Would an additional hand suffice?” 

“I’m not hiring you or San into my shop. I don’t think the salary I can give either of you could compare to the salary in an art museum.” 

“Oh no, not me. The art museum needs San and I to continue running.” He shakes his head. It was a lovely idea though, a nice change from the constant stress of files and intensive care. “I know someone who might be able to help, he’s just like San.” San looks over at Yeosang with a raised brow, raising his head from his arm to get a better view of his friend. 

“I mean, if he’s a friend of yours and is aware that I can’t give a salary as high as you can then I don’t think I can turn down the offer.” 

“Then it’s settled then. I’ll contact Hongjoong tonight to give him the details. If things go as planned, he will be able to meet you tomorrow afternoon.” 

“Oh right, Yeosang put up some sort of protective barrier for the night that spans until early afternoon I think? So more time for us to rest and catch up on sleep.” Wooyoung explains upon seeing your panicked face at the ‘tomorrow afternoon’ part. “So I guess, that’s it for tonight?” Wooyoung asks in a hopeful tone, trying to stifle a yawn with his hands. 

The immortals remember the limitations of humans and thus decide to end the discussion here. “Yes, we can continue this some other time. For the sake of your safety, feel free to come to the art museum. I’ll let the staff know of you to let you through easily. For now, it is better for the two of you to get some rest.” 

San sends him a look, realizing that he had omitted a certain topic out of the discussion. At the mention of rest, you start to feel the exhaustion seep into your bones. Your eyes feel heavy now as Wooyoung’s yawn reminds you of how eventful the day was for both of you. “I’ll lead them to their room.” San offers, much to Yeosang’s relief as he couldn’t handle what San might want to discuss once the two were off to rest. 

Yeosang switches the lights off, bathing the room in darkness and night lights once more. The hallway was dimly lit, making sure that none of his visitors bumped themselves to their slumber. He asks himself why he veered away from the topic of you being a potential interest by the Abyss Order. He wasn’t happy with the answer but it’s the only one he’s got.

He doesn’t want history to repeat itself, yet he knows that those who don’t know it are doomed to repeat it. Even with these worries, he can’t get himself to look at the amulet that rests by his bed side.

--------

Something inside you starts turning. “San, do you remember what the symbol looks like?” You ask carefully, voice barely above a whisper. For Wooyoung’s sake, you didn’t want him to hear this conversation. 

His eyes glance at you after watching Wooyoung flop over the bed. It’s only now that you notice the green streaks in his eyes. “Of course, something wrong?” 

“Can you draw it and send it to me over chat?” You don’t answer his question. “Also, do you have any injuries?” Until you have some sort of confirmation, you won’t divulge any information to him. 

San raises his knee as an answer. “Scraped myself when I had to pin the Abyss members down but nothing too worrisome.” 

“Can I at least fix it? I wasn’t able to ask Yeosang either of his injuries.” San remembers that you were more adept at healing, you can still pack a punch but you preferred to stay at the back. For both of your peace, he enters the room and lets you check on his injuries. 

At least the wound has been cleaned but it’s still very fresh. “This isn’t just a scrape, San.” There’s something in your tone that makes San shrink back like a child. Wooyoung peeks over, your concern catching his attention. 

“That looks pretty bad.” Wooyoung comments much to San’s embarrassment. Never did the guardian expect a human to chide him like a parent-- not even Yeosang did that. 

“It’s not that--” San’s words are cut off by the jolt in temperature. The sharp cold stings against his wound-- maybe he didn’t disinfect it enough. He hears you murmur words of what he can only assume were spells. The intense drop in temperature made his leg stiffen from the sensation, but it was gone as quick as it happened. The guardian looks at his legs and already it was new skin, as if the wounds never even happened and he had just decided to do an exfoliation. “Makes me wonder how you’d be in a fight.” He muses his thanks, running his fingers gently against his healed knee. 

“Please don’t. I might just be the type to cry while fighting.” You plead, much to Wooyoung’s amusement. 

The immortal chuckles at the image, for the most part it is endearing but he tries not to wear down the light conversation with the more realistic thoughts in his head. San stands up and heads towards the door. “Good night you two, the next few days might be a little hectic for the four of us.”

Part 4

[spectrumed]

2. voice

As a child I could not pronounce the letter R. I once complained to my mother for being so careless as to give me a name that had two R’s in it. Fredrik. Or as I pronounced it back then, “Fledlik.” Cute, right? I was a cute child, all blonde and with big blue eyes. At one point, I got surrounded by a group of older girls who forced me to pronounce my name, even though I really couldn’t. They laughed and laughed, teasing me for my inability to pronounce even my own name correctly. If I ever had a reason to develop a fetish for femdom, I think this would have been it.

Like it or not, in speech, there is no room for individual quirks. No, we’ve all got to learn how to speak properly. Historically, that has led to some pretty heinous attitudes towards regional accents, any tongue that was the standard was seen by default as being less or developed and intelligent. Regional accents were seen as practically unhygienic, the worry being that if people just got to speak as they wished, they might end up potentially thinking dangerous thoughts. While I understand the importance of being understood, it’s clear that the stigma that exists around speech difficulties stems from a place of prejudice. If a person has a lisp, do you really struggle to understand them? And while stammering can be quite debilitating, it should be blatantly obvious that shaming people who stammer, suggesting that they are bereft of intelligence, is not the way to help them. Humans are social animals, and language may be the one thing that distinguishes us as a species, it is natural that proper elocution should be treasured. But some people do struggle with their speech, and that should not cost them any respect or kindness.

As a child, I didn’t speak nearly enough. As an adult I am speaking too much. That’s the problem with you, Fredrik, you’ve never understood that there is a middle ground between two extremes. There is a way you can speak that is neither too quiet, nor too loud. It is how normal people speak. Why can’t you be normal, Fredrik? Are you going to spend this whole blog post talking about how difficult it is for you to simply learn to be like everyone else? Self-pitying yourself, much? Back in my day people pulled themselves up by their bootstraps, if they had something they struggled with, they learned to sort it all out, and they didn’t start complaining about society being all mean to them. You’re just spending too much time inside your own head, go take a swim, take up a hobby that requires you to step outdoors, it will serve you well. Don’t be a freak, Fredrik. Be normal, for once.

On a side note, “pulling yourself up by your bootstraps” is meant to be understood as an impossible feat. You can’t possibly pull yourself up by your bootstraps, it’s ludicrous to even suggest that such a thing may be feasible. While, yes, there are many things you can do to help yourself, ultimately, you can’t profoundly escape from a sorry situation you’ve found yourself in without some outside help. There is no shame in requiring help. To guilt someone into thinking that if they can’t do it alone, they are weak, is frankly sociopathic. Humans need each other, we take care of each other, we are there for each other. Self-sufficiency is great, but let’s not take it to levels of absurdity by suggesting that needing help from others is anything but normal. No-one succeeds in life without others there to prop them up. Instead of telling someone to pull themselves up by their bootstraps, you might as well tell them to go and swallow the sun, which is clearly another impossible task.

Most people will never in their lives experience what it is like to go through a neuropsychological evaluation. Turns out that it is not always such a pleasant experience. Though, considering the popularity of pseudo-scientific nonsense like the Myers-Briggs test, I am sure some folks would lie and pretend to love it. Certainly, there is a charm to being there and talking about yourself for several hours near-uninterrupted, but the exhaustion that you will feel at the end of it cannot be understated. Naturally, it does vary between who does it, and why they’re doing it. But if the stated goal is to find out whether you’ve had a neurodevelopmental disorder since you were but a young babe, then of course, there are going to be some pretty long conversations happening about those early days. Lots of stuff you may not have considered or thought about in a very long time will suddenly become very relevant to your current situation. And at the end of it all, you get some papers detailing your fashionable new diagnosis. Your entire life, all written down. Can make you feel rather wistful. And there’s really quite a surprising amount of typos included in the text, and barely any jokes.

Still, as part of my official diagnosis, there is a reference to my speech at being at times “stilted.” Though, the diagnosis does take very good care to mention that I appear intelligent and thoughtful, exhibiting a wide vocabulary and a good sense of the right words to use at the right moment. It’s flattering, for the most part. Yet, it does irk me that I could be perceived as being stilted. I know that at this point, I am being petty, because who cares if I sometimes come across as maybe a little robotic. I’ve got Asperger’s. Of course I am a robot. The closest role model we folks with Asperger’s ever had for the longest time was Star Trek: The Next Generation’s android named Data. God forbid anyone like me ever turned out to be the protagonist of a series, we’re all doomed to play the part of the robot, the alien, or the socially awkward geek. I should just be delighted that I am high-functioning. I know how much worse some have it. I should be grateful and pleased that I come across as mostly normal, mostly neurotypical. But… I really just don’t want anyone to think my speech is stilted. I don’t want to be Data. I want to be Riker.

It is never enough, you’ll never be good enough. If you fake it, they’ll see through it. If you struggle and if you work honestly to appear more normal, they won’t recognise it. As soon as they get an inkling you may be an imposter, looking like them, but having a neurologically deviant brain, they’ll single you out. For you, normalcy is an illusion. To attempt to be normal is to remake yourself only to receive nothing. Sure, you can be disingenuous, pretend you're not yourself, but it’ll never fool them. In the end, you’ll only lose yourself. Maybe I should just own the fact that my speech sometimes comes across as being stilted. Maybe I should own it. Be proud of who I am. But… sometimes I just don’t want to be me.

I want to be ignored. Sometimes, not always. But that goes for everyone. But most of all, I’d like to be able to go unseen whenever I’m not trying to impress anyone. When I’m just off to buy some milk. When I’m sitting on the bus. When I’m walking through the park. I know it is partly paranoia, but I can’t help but feel like I stick out. It’s always been like that with my friends growing up. The metaphor I used with my therapist is that I felt like a thumb. That they, my friends, were the fingers and I was the thumb. Sure, we’re similar. In many ways we’re the same. You could even say that I was crucial to making the social dynamics work. Who doesn’t like the thumb? What would you do without your thumb? But still, I was different. Some people would do anything to be different like that, to feel special. Some folks feel all invisible and forgotten in the crowd, and I’d lie if I told them that I didn’t envy them sometimes. The ability to go all invisible? That seems swell! There’s this question people like to ask as a sort of personality test. If you could choose a superpower, would you rather be able to fly, or would you rather be able to go invisible? The answer is obvious, as far as I’m concerned. Of course I’d love to be able to go invisible. To be able to exist without anyone seeing me. Without anyone judging me. Without ever having to worry if someone is going to treat me as different. For a moment to feel what it is like not to be some big, dumb, stupid, thumb.

Don’t get me wrong, I am not too anguished. Nowadays, I feel like I am in a relatively good place. But I would be lying if I told you that I still don’t get frustrated at the plethora of difficulties I face just trying to blend in. Even with family members, people who are supposed to know you the best, even then I have to go out of my way to behave a certain way, to exist a certain way, because fundamentally, they just don’t seem to get you. Not in that way. They have an image of you that you need to try and match. It doesn’t matter how many times I tell them that sometimes you need to be more direct in your communication to truly reach me, I don’t pick up on the many smaller little social cues they may throw my way, it’s still just me being silly and looking for excuses for why I didn’t understand them the first time around. And I am deathly afraid of hurting anyone’s feelings. A very prevalent misconception about autistic individuals is that we don’t care if we’re being rude. That if we are rude, our rudeness can simply be overlooked because, y’know, we’re autistic. While this sort of thing is commonly represented in media that is supposed to depict autistic characters, in real life, things don't quite work like this. Believe it or not, readers, being autistic is not a free pass to act like a dick. Autistic individuals still very much have to modulate our behaviour if we wish to fit in and be accepted. No-one will ever excuse you for being autistic. To be autistic is living with extra hurdles in your way, thinking that it’s anything but a social handicap is romanticising a diagnosis you clearly know very little about.

When I was a kid, I didn’t speak much. As far as I was concerned, I merely spoke whenever I needed to speak. It took until adulthood for me to learn that my parents and teachers were actually concerned about that. I was made to see a specialist, under the guise of learning elocution, but I’ve later come to realise that those meetings were about more than just learning to pronounce the letter R. Like, what does testing my memory have to do with diction? Yes, her job was partly to help my speech develop more in line with the other kids, but she was also there to evaluate whether or not I was intellectually disabled. I have come to learn that I had teachers at the time that were adamant about me going to a different school, more equipped to handle kids like me, but my mother vehemently defended my right to stay in the school I was in. After all, I did have friends, and to anyone who really knew me, they knew that I was a bright child. Sure, I wasn’t as communicative as the other children, but I clearly had no issues processing information, and it’s not like I was disruptive in some other way. But that was also part of the problem. The teachers that thought that I may need specialist schooling were concerned about the fact that I was too placid and too agreeable. They wanted me to express frustration at my lacking pronunciation, to see me get mad at others for not fully understanding me. That amazes me, if anything. The fact that I was a happy kid they took as some indication that I wasn’t quite right.

My mother delights in a memory of me as a kid once slamming my fist on the table and declaring that “now, I am speaking!” May I remind you that I was a cute kid. Sure, it is the sort of behaviour that parents of the old times would have spanked their kids for. Kids in the past were supposed to be quiet. To be seen, but not heard. I wonder if there’d be any kind of hubbub about my early development if I lived back then. I’d probably be seen as the ideal child, all pretty and docile and never too loud. Still, it was a moment my mother cherished, because for once, I really proved that I did have the capacity to speak. Though, I still couldn’t pronounce my R’s. But it was time for Fledlik to speak.

[nehetisingsforhekate]

Epithets: Gigaessa

Titaness, Giantess

Universal queen, queen of wishes, /AMAMA, well-bedded, Dardanian, all-seeing, night-running, man-attacker, man-subduer, man-summoner, man-conqueror, LICHRISSA PHAESSA, O aerial one, O strong one, O song and dance, guard, spy, delight, delicate, protector, adamant, adamantine, O / Damnameneia, BREXERIKANDARA, most high, Taurian, unutterable, fire-bodied, light-giving, sharply armed. – PGM VII 695-702, trans. Betz.

Come, Giant Hekate, Dione’s Guard, / O Persia, Baubo Phroune, dart-shooter, Unconquered, Lydian, the one untamed, Sired nobly, torch-bearing, guide, who bends down Proud necks, Kore, hear, you who’ve parted / gates Of steel unbreakable. – PGM IV 2713-2721, trans. Betz

Sometimes when I sit down to learn about an epithet, there’s next to nothing out there. One line of obscure poetry or one reference by one scholar in a footnote. This time I have the opposite problem. Any discussion of Hekate’s lineage includes some nod to Her status as a Titan. We have multiple references from many different authors discussing Her role as a Titan fighting on the side of the Olympians against the earlier order, Her own kind.

The family line of Hekate begins with the Titans, Koios and Phoibe (the parents of Asteria), and Krios and Eurybia long before the Olympians came to be. Koios stands as one of the corners of the World, tasked with supporting the sky, and it is around him that the constellations spin. He is also named Polos which means axis. His position is the north while some of his siblings stood in the other directions in a similar role. There’s speculation that he was associated with heavenly oracles. After the Olympians disposed of the Titans, he was cast off into Tartarus. He was also said to rule over the intellect, a trait he shares with his wife. She is Phoibe, whose name means bright, was an early Titaness associated with the Oracle at Delphi.

Krios stands, like his brother Koios, in the south, represented as the ram of Aries. And like his brother, he too was cast to Tartarus by Zeus. His wife is Eurybia, a powerful Titaness of the Sea, and mother of many of the Gods of the Waters upon the earth.

Koios and Phoibe, Titans of the mind and associated with the stars, are the parents of the Titaness Asteria, She who rules over the stars, and over divination by dream and by astrology. She married the son of Krios and Eurybia, Perses, a Titan of destruction. It was Hesiod who describes this Titan as one of the greats in terms of wisdom.

Naturally, their descendant, Hekate, is also a Titan, but one who has been accepted by the Olympian order. When the Titans were brought low by those allied with Zeus, Hekate fought on the side of the Gods, spanning the two forces and being recognized as both Titaness and Goddess. This seems apropos for a Goddess who stands across the boundaries between earth, sea, and sky, between life and death, and between the wilderness and civilization.

“Once I was under the tree canopy, there came, first of all, a barking of dogs… there was an earthquake and, simultaneously, a shout like thunder. I saw a fearsome woman approaching me, almost half a stadium’s length high. In her left hand she held a torch and in her right a sword twenty cubits long. Below the waist she had snake-feet; above it she resembled a Gorgon, so far as concerns the look in her eyes and her terrible appearance, I mean. Instead of hair, writhing snakes fell down in curls around her neck, and some of them coiled over her shoulders…” – so speaks Eucrates.  Lucian, Philoseudes 17, 2nd c. CE, trans. Ogden.

Larger than life, you are, Great Goddess, You stand at the Crossroads of Life. Your shining key can open all doors. You cross all boundaries, Hekate, Goddess of the Three Ways, Titaness who stood with the Gods. You loom in my life, A Presence, A Blessing, And Eternal. May Your gifts be given to the Earth for all time, And may we honor you in turn.

 Sources:

Athanassakis, Apostolos N. Hesiod: Theogony, Works and Days, Shield, Johns Hopkins, 2004.

Betz, Hans Dieter. The Greek Magical Papyri in Translation, including the Demotic Spells, 2nd ed. Univ. Chicago, 1992.

Fauth, Wolfgang, Hekate Polymorphos, Verlag Dr. Kovac, 2006.

Farnell, L.R. “Hekate’s Cult,” in The Goddess Hekate, edited by Stephen Ronan, Chthonios, 1992. p. 17-35.

Lowe, J. E. “Magical Hekate,” in The Goddess Hekate, edited by Stephen Ronan, Chthonios, 1992. p.11-15.

Ogden, Daniel. Magic, Witchcraft, and Ghosts in the Greek and Roman Worlds, Oxford, 2009.

Images:

Croft, S.B. “Hekate Zonadrakontos,” Wicket Icons, 2020.

[aestheticaxolotl]

Lets Talk About Gunnar Maelstrom

Evil Daddies is where it’s at.

One of the meanings of the word "Maelstrom" is 'A situation of state of confused movement or violent turmoil.

Let me start with Maelstrom, usung the Carmen Sandiego Wiki to break him down as a whole, starting with appearance and personality (Excluding the comments around his action in the show, this will be hard seeing his major inclusion to the story so please bear with me once more as I do this).

Professor Maelstrom is a middle-aged man with pale skin and white hair with a receding hairline. He has broad shoulders and wears a black blazer over a dark gray turtleneck. As stated previously, Maelstrom is seen as being an almost unnaturally pale color, hinting towards possible Albinism.

Now, Middle aged according to the wiki page is between 50 and 60. Seeing the receding hairline and the lines on his face (Also can someone point me to a source about those random chin hairs? Like please I need context). 

He obviously has stress and sleep lines. I imagine these are due to his life choices and idiot operatives. His ethnicity is stated as being Swedish but continues to contradict itself when it later states that Maelstrom is from Scandinavia. I think this is to throw the readers and deep show watchers off and it would work better if both ethnicity and race were left as unknown. 

Now we move on to the easier things, personality, which is LONG. So let me start writing!

Of the five members of V.I.L.E's faculty, Maelstrom seems to command the most authority and serve as the de facto leader of the group, being the first to speak as well as hand out orders. As one may expect, Professor Maelstrom is criminally insane, which is ironic, considering his forte is psychiatry. Professor Maelstrom often likes to tinker with his patients' psyches and enjoys psychologically evaluating students, much like someone finding joy in pulling the wings off a butterfly. He does possess some level of awareness to his own insanity, though he is quick to brush it off as a mere label that other weak-minded people have given him. He also has an apparent fondness for the more psychotic recruits. In keeping with his name, his main desire is to spread chaos and disorder, with any actual gain being a secondary concern at best. Carmen considered him to be creepy, and rightfully so after he and Dr. Bellum collaborated to wipe Crackle's brain. Professor Maelstrom loathes Cookie Booker as he has no tolerance for her stuck up behavior towards him. He seems to have a fondness for marine life, as his office hosts a giant aquarium filled with jellyfish and other specimens. His use of the term "bait" as a pun is in reference to fishing bait, and in the novel adaptation, it is used twice. Further expanding the psychological exam scene from the show, in the novel, he declares that Carmen gave the "wrong" answer to the Rorschach test, stating that the image was a seahorse. The novelization expanded his sense of humor, though it mentions that even that had a dark and unpredictable tinge to it, showing delight in the lengths that his students would go in order to not be called upon in class. The show does have him throw a small quip every once in a while, often tinged with exasperation at his colleagues' antics or ignorance. He also enjoys making Countess Cleo envious of his fashion style, having asked Le Chevre and El Topo in the "The Fishy Doubloon Caper" to acquire an Ecuadorian Eight Escudos doubloon to be melted into solid gold cufflinks.

As done in my previous post, I will be diving deeper into the statement in the bolded font. 

Maelstrom seems to command the most authority and serve as the de facto leader of the group,

I don’t see any major reason for this face besides that there is a level of respect among the Faculty that centers around Maelstrom, seeing as he is one of the psychologically smarter than any of the other members, except Shadowsan but that is a post for another day. He is a very scary character because he is unpredictable, and possibly in the minds of the other, can be blamed for their crimes should they ever had been caught, but this leads me to my second quip with Gunnar Maelstrom.

Professor Maelstrom is criminally insane, which is ironic, considering his forte is psychiatry

When one looks up the term ‘Criminally insane’ we get the following “an accused person that is deemed to be suffering from cognitive illness or fault which frees then of lawful accountability for the unlawful behaviors” from https://psychologydictionary.org/criminally-insane/. 

I cannot at all say that I support this terminology on the stance that Maelstrom is more than aware of his action, to the point where he logically makes the choices to leave his fellow faculty behind at the prospect of capture. One cannot say that a “Criminally insane’ person is able to make these choices so quickly and with such calculation as to pack a go bag and hire an escape driver. But I digress.

He does possess some level of awareness to his own insanity, though he is quick to brush it off as a mere label that other weak-minded people have given him.

I don’t think that Maelstrom can stand to be labeled by other people. The exact use of the phrase “Weak-minded’ points me to believe that Maelstrom sees himself as mentally stronger, powerful, and far beyond that of the average person. This points to his class, and I’ll explain this in the next part, being the most critical and important to V.I.L.E as a whole.

His main desire is to spread chaos and disorder

This is WAY too specific to just be a drop in detail. No character is created be be a chaotic mixture, but they are built to SPREAD chaos, and Maelstrom is the perfect character to do this. His favor to Paperstar is a direct jab at this detail about him, she is an element of chaos that he put into play, the disorder of her is why he places her, while the other faculty hate Paperstar, he finds her the perfect wild card.

Professor Maelstrom loathes Cookie Booker 

I fully think this is, as the wiki and al of my sources say, Cookie Booker represents the original 1998 Carmen Sandeigo. And the loathing between them is a reference to the original game and books.

He seems to have a fondness for marine life, as his office hosts a giant aquarium filled with jellyfish and other specimens.

Not gonna lie, but I love this detail. The details, that caused me to GO BACK and watch the episodes with Maelstrom, was that the man likes fish. This adds onto the effect that he is rather cold and uncaring towards people, seeing them a thing to observe and keep. I also just love the idea of him having a fish tank and spoiling his goldfish that he named Clyde or something equally related to big time crime, like Al Capone or as said before Clyde.

He also enjoys making Countess Cleo envious of his fashion style

I’m sorry but Cleo and Gunnar challenging each other to see who is better in fashion? I’m sorry but they are the fashion police. Also I think this places WHO he is close to in the Faculty. I am very willing to bet that Maelstrom, who left Coach Brunt to drown and die, would NEVER leave Cleo or Bellum (Possibly) to die because they align more with HIS goals.

Brunt is... Dare I say... THE DUMBEST OF THE V.I.L.E FACULTY

WHAT DOES SHE DO?!?!

WHY IS SHE HERE?!

SHE’S STRONG AND THAT’S IT!

I digress (i used that phrase twice now), I just think his goals line up more with Cleo and (Again, possibly) Bellums’.

Now I go onto my favorite part of these paragraphs, the trivia/abilities. I love trivia/abilities, just because everyone sees this word and they are like ‘oh it’s just dumb facts’. BUT NO! It’s DENSTRAMENTAL to the character and links to their personalities.

He is capable of expertly performing a bait and switch. Professor Maelstrom specializes in psychiatry. He has been shown to have a favorite student, similar to the other faculty, in Paper Star; despite her disregard of the protocol in Mumbai. His grudge against Cookie Booker could be a subtle reference to the hostile relationship that his previous incarnation had with Carmen Sandiego in the 90's cartoon. As shown in the season three episode, The Haunted Bayou Caper, he has a fondness for Halloween.

Most od this is already covered, i know, so I won’t go over what I already did. SO let me just say... I know-

He is capable of expertly performing a bait and switch 

I NEED to SEE Maelstrom just- *Pulls and Bait and switch* -STEAL FROM SOMEONE. Like. I could totally believe that Maelstrom is the sleekest, most sneaky, most Swiper is swiping guy in the world. I am okay with letting them tell me this, but NO okay with them not SHOWING ME.

Netflix, I HOPE you see this so you can give me a SHOW on HOW GUNNAR MET MY MOTHER, COUNTESS CLEO.

He has a fondness for Halloween.

Charlie Pants. 

Do I need to say any more?

Okay, big ending time. So Gunnar Maelstrom, a deeply interesting character, mysterious backstory that a person can read into, different fun facts that lead to speculation and interest and amazing stories. I love Gunnar Maelstrom’s character, his personality, and his appearance. His effect? 100. His story? 100. His ability to make me rewatch the series? 100. 

Thanks for reading this. I’ll have another one out soon! Requests are open