#the cycle continuing on angry men raising angry sons

[minnow-doodle-doo]

I know you said that when Bruce first dies Damien is a little indifferent since he did not understand how Bruce loved all the kids differently but when he grows up does this change? Does he ever grow to understand Bruce more?

It's more that Damian was so used to death and people leaving that he doesn't really know this is forever in his nine-year-old brain. He loved his father and had idolized him from afar and the years he spent in Gotham crumbled his image into just a man.

Time went on and Bruce was dead as can be and nothing was going to change that. It's easier to mourn someone you thought didn't love you.

And Dick loved him even before Bruce's death and then after. He loved Damian in a way that he could never doubt. In Damian's mind, he separates Bruce as Dick's, Jason's, Cass's, Tim's father, not his in the way that mattered, everyone is morning someone that Damian didn't know as well as they did and never will. It's easier to mourn someone else's father than your own.

But as Damian gets into his late teenage years, he finds that he can't lie to himself like that anymore. His father had loved him in ways he didn't understand and he'll never get to ask how to.

[buckets-and-trees]

How would I’m Your Man!Andy react if he was in an AU where a mafia princess (or her father) forced him into a marriage without any say? 👿😡

Oh, the amount of hate sex that would happen! 😏😈

I imagine it being a scenario where instead of where we see I’m Your Man!Andy (in his deep 30s) this Andy would be maybe just-turned-30 and was moving up the ranks in the rival mafia's organization, one of the most consistent soldiers, but one of the other soldiers - someone Andy thought he was close to - murders the capo they both report to who happens to be the boss's favorite son - and frames Andy for the murder/betrayal/double-crossing.

Andy tries to get out of the city, but gets picked up by your father's men and brought in. He sees the value of absorbing Andy/demanding his loyalty in exchange for sparing his life.

Your father has been "hinting" that he's ready for you to start producing heirs, and he's wanted you to pick one of his men. You've been putting it off because you want to inherit outright, not be the mother of an heir or the treasure given to one of your father's men.

[THIS GOT LONG, SO THE REST IS GOING UNDER A READ MORE - BASICALLY I'M GOING TO TELL YOU A STORY BUT NOT WRITE IT OUT AS A FIC...IT JUST GOT LONG AND MY IMAGINATION WENT ALL THE WAY]

[ALSO TRIGGER WARNING FOR PREGNANCY ISSUES AND MENSTRUAL CYCLES]

He brings both you and Andy in to his office and offers the ultimatum: Andy agrees to marry you, or he gets delivered to the doorstep of his former boss who wants his head; you agree to marry Andy or you'll be cut off, exiled, and kept from ever seeing your mother or your younger sister ever again. To completely cement your union, the two of you must also produce an heir to secure the line of succession. Do it and the two of you are guaranteed his kingdom. Fail to do so, and when your sister graduates from college, he's marrying her off to one of his capos - which is something you swore to yourself you would never let happen. YOU were going to be the mafia princess - you were shrewd, trained, you even wanted it, but your precious, bright, innocent younger sister would be eaten alive by this life.

Andy has no choice, and in your mind, neither do you.

The two of you are moved to a private villa on the estate.

Your father sets the date in three weeks for a lavish, public wedding.

Andy hates that he was stripped of everything he worked for, and even though he hates you and hates that he's been given no choice, he sees the silver lining in being fast-tracked to the top of your father's ranks if he can prove his value and his new loyalty.

You hate that he's an outsider, you hate that he's going to play your father's game, and you hate that you'll be "his wife" when you wanted to be the one with the power.

There's a huge blowout between the two of you about halfway through the engagement that ends in some epic hate fucking. You split Andy's lip with the slap you deal to him, and though he's absolutely rough and brutal with you and your body, he doesn't raise a hand against you or do anything actually violent.

You goad and escalate each other during it because the more intense it gets, the better it feels, and both of you are too proud to drop the animosity.

So when the pent up sexual tension mounts for the following ten days until your wedding night?

Andy literally tears your dress off you the moment you're alone together.

You don't hit Andy again, but besides that, the vicious cycle of animosity continues for a good six months - avoiding each other, being constantly resentful and annoyed, and then boiling over and fucking it out.

But it changes when you're staring slack-jawed at a positive pregnancy test and Andy walks in on you.

Now the reality of a completely new chapter is undeniable, and it changes both of you fundamentally.

He's forceful and growly about it, but Andy wants a truce. If you're really going to have a child, he doesn't want that child to grow up in a violent and angry home like he did before his dad went away to prison. You don't want that either.

So the two of you agree to make a go of a peaceful and tolerant partnership.

You took the pregnancy test pretty early - you had only been a week late, felt nauseous for a few days, and took the test as a precaution. Since it was so early, you were a little shocked, and you didn't want anyone else to know yet - which Andy agreed to - you didn't make an appointment to see your OBGYN straight away.

A few weeks later, you start bleeding, get freaked out, Andy takes you to the hospital, and miracle of miracles, you find out you were NOT pregnant before - the test was a false positive (rare, but can happen), and your body was stressed and skipped a period.

Both of you are relieved everything is relatively okay, but the ordeal and the few weeks of détente before changed the dynamic of your marriage.

Andy takes you home, tucks you into his bed, and in the morning he says he doesn't want to go back to how things were - not the hateful phase, and not even the tentative working phase you two had just been navigating since the potential pregnancy. He proposes the two of you try to be partners in marriage for real. He doesn't want to be miserable for the rest of his life, and it's not even a grudging acknowledgement when he says he actually has developed a hell of a lot of respect for you over the last six to eight months.

And you have to admit he's garnered the same from you - exponentially since the day of the pregnancy test and his agreement to handle it at your pace, and for taking absolute care of you with the panic the night before.

It's slow-going, and the hate sex stops.

Two months later, there's a real kiss between the two of you.

On your first anniversary, Andy holds your hand during your first ultrasound and the OBGYN gives you the surprise revelation that it's twins, and he looks at you like you've hung the moon and the stars in the sky.

[ntaras]

A mini analysis on Shao and Reiko’s relationship in mk12

note: i’d been wanting to write an analysis on their relationship for a while and cause i’ve been super busy a short analysis is what i could muster up. i think shao and reiko’s relationship is very fascinating and one of the (rare) highlights of mk12! here’s my take on them, or at least my very brief, summarized take on them (it’s like only 500 words)

Shao was a child of violence. He came from a military family and “though brilliant and eager,” it was not enough for his father. An angry father, and a child simply born with a body deemed weak. There is no denying that Shao’s training under his father was painful as his father “dismissed his son’s physicians and designed an extreme program to build his son’s strength and endurance.” Eventually, Shao became the perfect soldier- or perhaps, perfect to his father.

Reiko was a child of violence. He was captured during a war, and his family was slaughtered. He was only a boy, and he was alone, and he had to survive. He had to fight to live.

Upon being freed by Shao during a raid, Reiko attacked his captors. “Despite his youth and small size” Reiko “exacted bloody revenge.” Shao was “impressed by the boy’s spirit” and no wonder he was. A child who demonstrates strength ( I wouldn’t call a child killing their captors a child showing their “strength,” but it was strength/spirit in Shao’s eyes.) despite looking anything but strong. Shao saw himself in Reiko.

They are bonded through this violence of being born small, and as Reiko will now follow Shao’s teachings, Shao will continue the cycle of violence through the way he was raised by his own father. Shao will raise a strong boy into a stronger man.

To clarify, I am not using the cycle of violence in terms of abuse (which is what the correct term is about lol), because nothing says Shao is abusive towards Reiko. Shao had a violent upbringing, and when he saw Reiko killing his captors, he took him in because there was a connection through violence and size. The cycle of violence is continued because in the same way Shao’s father took the worst route in aiding Shao with his disability, Reiko was taught to embrace violence and war under Shao’s care despite it being what killed his family. The current war for Outworld will leave orphans behind, and how many will be from Reiko’s own hands? How many boys will want to kill Reiko, because he killed their families?

Reiko is undoubtedly loyal to Shao, and it is a loyalty out of love, similar to Kitana’s loyalty to Mileena. Though, you could question if Reiko’s loyalty to Shao sometimes goes against himself. During the dinner scene, Reiko raises his wine glass with everyone after Sindel’s speech and during Raiden’s speech. He doesn’t stay in his seat like Shao does. He only puts his glass down once Shao expresses contempt, and follows Shao as he leaves.

He is his father’s son, and he follows Shao no matter his true feelings- and his true feelings are to follow Shao. He has all the heart to be a good son, and utmost loyalty is being a good son, because how could your father be wrong when he taught you how to live?

As Shao loved Reiko like his son, Reiko is ready to fulfill his duty as son, and love trumps the fear of death.

“I’ve treated you like a beloved son.” “And I will follow you into the deepest valley.”

In Art of War Sun Tzu says, “Treat your men as you would your own beloved sons. And they will follow you into the deepest Valley."

Undoubtedly, Shao and Reiko are father and son, general and soldier.

[thedreadvampy]

talking to my mum last night and getting fucked up about the degree of trauma my grandparents' generation faced and how. unwilling and ill-equipped the care system is for the obvious fact that there's a huge incidence of PTSD and complex lifelong mental health issues in those generations

grannie was 17 when she became a nurse and she was working immediately in London at the height of the Blitz. her first day she saw blown apart children and had to comfort their parents. she was almost hit by a rocket cycling home.

grandpa spent the whole war in labour camps before being trapped behind the Iron Curtain in the ruins of Dresden, almost dead from starvation from the camp, for another 3 years before making it back to Blackpool to find out his parents had died in his absence.

granny got radiation sickness at 13 from being put under an X-ray with no protection and forgotten about for hours; she lost all her hair and developed chronic pain and health problems. after years of severe physical, emotional and sexual abuse from her family and the men around her, she got engaged to an American pilot who was shot down and killed in the last month of the war. her former boyfriend came back a dissociative shell of his pre-war self and she ended up trying to raise three small children on her own, with her family at the other end of the country and her husband often having violent flashbacks and outbursts of rage. she was suicidal and had violent psychotic breaks and got institutionalised and medicated on and off her entire adult life.

like. it isn't just the war. people born in the early-mid 20th century, especially women, have been subject to so much sexual trauma, domestic and social violence, bigotry, and grief on grief on grief.

with my granny, it's entirely understandable that she was 'mad'. when I knew her, she was on heavy daily dosage of lithium - she stopped because it was destroying her gut after 30 years and she became violently aggressive, vindictive, scared, psychotic, paranoid, frequently delusional and extremely abusive. She was terrified of doctors because of her repeated experiences with medical abuse, she was furious with everyone around her, she coldly hated her husband and seemed actively happy when he died, and the thing is all of that makes perfect sense because she was profoundly and repeatedly traumatised for at least the first 50-60 years of her life.

but the thing that worries and answers me is that the elder care system and the mental health system are completely unwilling to engage with the fact that many many many old people have severe pre-existing mental health conditions. after all, how many of us have PTSD or psychotic episodes or bipolar or BPD or special care needs related to autism or OCD or ADHD or whatever? those don't just Cease To Exist after a certain age. and our parents and our grandparents grew up in times with much less support for mental health and much less awareness of trauma. granny's early traumas were familial but she was institutionalised repeatedly and treated appallingly throughout her life and that's in itself traumatic.

when granny was 82 and she stopped taking her lithium, she was frail, ill and a danger to herself and others.

they put her on a dementia ward when she was sectioned because she was Old, and Old Mad People Are Demented. but she didn't have dementia! she had chronic PTSD and paranoid delusions but she knew who, where and when she was and she was perfectly sharp, she just wasn't coping. when we went to visit her she'd say furiously 'they think I'm like the other people in here but I'm not, I'm not losing my marbles, I've always been this way'

none of us got any support looking after her while she was in hospital or after she left the inpatient ward - nobody checked in on grandpa while she was in hospital or on weekend release, and after she was released Dad looked after her single-handed while trying to deal with his dad's death. (she may have murdered grandpa while on weekend release, or he may have died of heart failure - either way when she went off the rails after 20 years stable, he gave up on life and I me and my sibling (for the record we were 10 when she left hospital) listening to her trying to continue unpicking her past trauma was I think the most therapy she got after she left.

she couldn't go into a regular elder care home because she was too unstable, she needed specialist mental health care and she sometimes needed to be constrained for her own safety and that of other people. residential mental health care facilities weren't equipped to deal with her needs as a woman in her 80s. she couldn't go into dementia care, which is about the only residential care available for old people with serious mental health needs, because she didn't have dementia and it would have been utterly inappropriate and harmful for her and the other residents. she lived to 93 and for the last 11 years of her life it was up to Dad and us to look after her in her home because there was simply nowhere else for her to go.

and what really fucks me up is that she wasn't past help. a lot of people thought she was but when she left hospital she was trying really hard to continue therapy on her own without a therapist, she drew and wrote about her life and memories and she used to sit opposite me and open up in a way I now utterly recognise as trauma therapy, she would try to find ways to talk about what had hurt her and state into the middle distance for tens of minutes trying to get it together enough to continue. she wanted to do the work. but the only people there for her were her son who was shellshocked from losing his dad and traumatised from effectively losing his mum again and who was spending all his energy just trying to get through work and home and get her physical needs met, and a couple of preteen children who had the will but not the capacity to help. we were barely holding ourselves together (mum drove granny places but mostly her capacity was being spent being about the only support Dad or us could get) and we just couldn't meet the work of a trained therapist. and eventually she gave up on getting better and got angrier and more bitter and more abusive to everyone. but she wanted to feel better. she wanted to deal with her shit. but there was no support.

and there must be thousands of people like her. older people with lifelong trauma and mental health issues who are too mentally ill for elder support and too old for mental health support. and the MH system doesn't think they're worth the resource cost because after all they're old, they'll die soon. but where are they meant to go? and how much harm does unsupported home care do to the person in need of care and to the people carrying for them? it just multiplies trauma down the generations. you can't just expect mental illness to only affect the young when the old have been just as traumatised and you can't treat them as separate issues when old people need carers who are qualified to deal with both their age and their mental health issues.

like yes many people develop late life mental health issues like Alzheimers and dementia, just as many people become disabled for the first time by age. but a lot of people are disabled or mentally ill for decades before they reach anything approaching elderly, and those things don't suddenly go away and don't have the same support needs as late-life issues.

idk. I'm very angry. if there was recognition of the need to support older people with lifelong trauma then my grandpa wouldn't have died hopeless and unsupported, my granny might have got her life back and got some healing after 80 years of living in fear, my dad wouldn't have had his own mental breakdown and slide into paranoia and conspiracy theory, and me and my siblings wouldn't have lost our whole adolescence trying to shore up two badly neglected adults' catastrophic mental health while under constant fire.

literally a ten minute weekly phone call with grandpa while granny was in hospital and weekly follow-up talk therapy for her after she was discharged could have made so much difference but nobody fucking cared. because she was Old. she was in the hospital because she was a danger to the people around her and they discharged her for the weekend as a trial run and her husband died suddenly while she was in the house and she seemed totally unbothered and they still. let her out for good two weeks later with no followup care or therapeutic follow-up and no support or advice for Dad on looking after her. they started talk therapy in hospital and then dropped her abruptly and left her raw and cracked open without any way to put herself back together. and she isn't unique it's just. Careless. and so destructive.

[chalkrevelations]

SO, Episode 28 of Word of Honor was a roller-coaster ride.

(Spoilers, as ever, so scroll away and come back later if you want to see it unspoiled.)

They managed two entirely separate scenes in this one that had me going “Did … did that just happen? Is this really happening?” Let’s get this one out of the way first: The scene of Zhao Jing in his serial killer lair with the altar and memorial tablets and his serial killer trophies. Y’all. I swear, scene opens with a shot from behind of drunk Awful Yifu in his Fantasy Ancient China underwear staggering through a set of doors into a room with candles and draperies, and before I was able to register the rest of the set design, my brain gave a terrified squeak and started rabbiting around like, “Oh my god, please do not let this be Xie’er’s bedroom. Oh my god, they wouldn’t actually go there, not even hinted, surely that would be too far!” Then my eyeballs caught up and registered the set, so I thought I was safe, but that didn’t even turn out to be the moment in the scene that had me going “Is this really happening?” (Although I do think the fact my brain immediately jumped to that scenario speaks to the creepy vibe the show has managed to build between Awful Yifu and Xie Wang). So, Zhao Jing is a sloppy drunk and absolutely shitfaced, stumbling around and yelling at his dead brothers, and I’m sitting here watching him, feeling like I need a shower, with my skin a little bit trying to crawl off my body, and then he picks up Rong Xuan’s memorial tablet and pours an entire stream of alcohol out of the pitcher all over it, and I say, out loud, to the screen, “Oh my god, they just had him figuratively piss on that tablet.” Only, no, they didn’t, because there was no need to have him do it figuratively because then, he literally whips it out of his pants and takes a piss on the tablet, complete with sound effects, and I’m open-mouthed, thinking “Is this really happening?” As some background, I grew up in mainstream U.S. culture where ancestor veneration isn’t formally practiced - although it isn’t an entirely absent part of our cultural mythos, it’s just that now when I when I offer cultus to the Patres Patriae, it’s deliberate and intentional – but I’ve been doing ancestor work in my particular flavor of polytheism for long enough, and intensely enough, that I had a visceral reaction of disgust and horror to this. Hand literally clapped over my mouth in shock, even after watching all of his ranting at his dead brothers and spitting at his dead shifu and just generally being a disrespectful asshole with delusions of grandeur building up to it. So, yes, show, you have indeed convinced me that Awful Yifu is the worst, even in an episode that also devoted that much screentime to Prince Jin.

Fortunately, the other “Is this really happening?” moment was at the other end of the spectrum, somewhere in the face of how married Zhou Zishu and Wen Kexing are, which I cannot believe passed censorship. I know I keep saying that, but every time I think I’ve adjusted to how far they’re going to go, the show laughs gay-ly as it pushes the envelope another mile down the road. Truly, this show is the gift that keeps on giving where these two are concerned, and not just because of Zhang Zhehan’s face. I realize I had to spend 50 episodes deciphering Lan Wangji’s smallest microexpression (not that I’m complaining), but I can’t believe how expressive both Zhang Zhehan and Gong Jun are in these roles, with Gong Jun’s little sadness eyebrows when WKX wants ZZS to humor him, and how soft Zhang Zhehan’s face gets when ZZS looks at WKX, and how great they both are at making all this look like a pair of adults who are in an established relationship and confident of each other. I’d be as weak as Wen Kexing if Zhou Zishu pouted at me the way he does when he tells Chengling that he can’t do anything to help decorate the Manor except observe and direct because he’s oh, so injured and frail, poor him. Wen Kexing can laugh at Zhou Zishu when ZZS pokes at him by saying the papercrafter was such a beauty! (Compare this to his reaction back in the day, when ZZS deftly manipulated him out of bringing A-Xiang along on their honeymoon adventures by calling her a beauty and implying she might draw attention away from WKX!) Wen Kexing waves kitchen knives at Zhou Zishu in (somewhat fond) exasperation! Zhou Zishu now accepts Wen Kexing piling his plate with food at the table as perfectly normal! There’s no crying in Spring Festival! They send their kid outside to watch the fireworks so they can have sex some alone time! (Merciless killers. How the fuck so adorable?) Someone must have backed up an entire truckful of money to the house of someone very important to get this aired, because what is the heterosexual explanation for … any of this?

Other thoughts:

We continue to get small things that maintain the parallels between Wen Kexing/Zhou Zishou and Gu Xiang/Cao Weining, including the mirrored theme of finding a home with a welcoming family, shown through family dinner, and expressed through WKX’s description of his former self as a “lonely ghost,” echoing A-Xiang’s self-description (to Shen Shen in an earlier ep) the same way.

HAN YING! Listen, I am stupidly attached to this bit player, and not just because he’s a familiar face (because half of Wen Xu’s screentime in The Untamed was just a disembodied head hanging at the entrance to the Unclean Realm, so it’s not like there was time to get … attached). And I say stupidly attached because ever since we first saw the way he looked at ZZS with big puppy heart-eyes, I knew he was going to be a goner. I just know they’re gonna fridge him for the next step in ZZS’s journey, because something has to pry ZZS out of Four Seasons Manor, as much as I, personally, would like nothing better than to see 8 more episodes of wedded bliss for two gay dads and their son. (OK, one thing I would like better would be if their daughter and son-in-law came to live with them, too.) At least it looks like Han Ying will get to die taking a figurative bullet for ZZS, which will make him happy and might prevent him from finding out the Glazed Armor he’s so proud of bringing is actually pointless, because don’t think that didn’t hurt to know while I watched him being so proud of managing to get his hands on it. But I’d prefer he didn’t die at all, show. Also, why on earth are there only two (completed) stories under the ZZS/Han Ying label on AO3? Because yes, I have looked. I have the search open in another tab right now. Why haven’t more people taken advantage of this guy’s utter devotion for ZZS? How are people looking at the way Han Ying reverently brushes his fingers over the single white blossom on the wall mural in ZZS’s rooms back in Prince Jin’s palace and not falling all over that?

Xie’er, oh, Xie’er. You’re killing me, here. I need someone to rescue you, you desperate affection-starved little sociopath. So, to recap, last time we met, your Awful Yifu finally let it slip that he was never ever going to acknowledge your existence in public. So now, you’re being a very clever boy, setting up a scheme to manipulate him into having to publicly acknowledge you if he’s going to claim credit for your successes (because I’m sure you can’t even contemplate failure) in service to Prince Jin. So clever, but I hate to tell you, you’re clever at everything except learning from your mistakes when it comes to your Awful Yifu. You really learned nothing from Beauty Ghost, did you? Ugh, your sad little face as you watch your hot mess of an Awful Yifu while you wait for the maids to make tea – it hurts me. Please tell me you’re playing some kind of long game, and you’re just a really great actor. Because he’s sloppy drunk, and right now, watching your face journey, I think maybe you think that makes what he’s saying true – that he’s not guarding his words, and he means it when he tells you that of course he loves you and would never leave you. “Are you still angry with me?” Awful Yifu literally asks. “Alright, I’ll apologize. I was just mad. It didn’t mean anything. We’re together in this. I’ll always stand by you.” Xie’er, you have got to stop believing gaslighting abusive men who shovel that BS. This is what they call the honeymoon period in the cycle of abuse. Seriously. This is textbook. Please stop making the same mistakes over and over again. Maybe think about the fact that your Awful Yifu is, single-handedly, the reason the Department of the Unfaithful actually exists in the first place. He is THAT AWFUL. I would like to think actually seeing his serial killer trophy room will make a difference, now that you have some confirmation of what Tragicomic Ghost told you and not the ability to wave it off as part of some he-said, she-said situation where how could we ever possibly know the truth, despite the fact that Zhao Jing has shown he’ll stab anyone in the back in his quest for power? But, then, I also thought maybe learning last ep that he never planned to publicly acknowledge you would make some kind of difference. Are you going to roll the dice again, gambler? Because I’ll tell you right now, the house always wins. (Not that you’d listen to me anymore than you listened to Beauty Ghost.)

(Also, wait wait waitwaitwait. Waitaminit. This is pure speculation and probably way too out there to be true (oh, but, someone’s going to write this AU for me, right?) Hot-mess drunk yifu tells Xie’er that they’ve been depending on each other “ever since I picked you up and brought you back home.” I can’t remember if we know anything about Xie Wang’s background at this point, but it does sound like Zhao Jing might have literally yoinked him off the street to raise him. He … he doesn’t think Xie’er is actually Yan’er, does he? Only he kidnapped the wrong orphaned urchin by mistake? I’m just sayin’, thinking back to Shen Shen’s reaction to finding out Zhen Yan was still alive, it would be exactly the kind of thing Zhao Jing would do, to keep this kid that his brother(s) wanted to find hidden right under their noses.)

Chengling and the chicken. I can’t, y’all. And Zhou Zishu’s face as soon as he realizes what Wen Kexing is telling Chengling to do – he knows this is going to be a show.

Prince Jin, you are almost as bad as Xie’r and his awful Yifu combined:

Prince Jin: Zhou Zishu, you mastermind, your super-secret spy network continues to spread everywhere, including into my very own palace. Oh, the things you must be plotting against me!

Zhou Zishu, chillin’ at Plum Blossom Manor, day-drinking, dressing up in pretty festive robes, taking advantage of his disciple’s unpaid labor so he doesn’t have to raise a finger for himself, and providing his husband with sex so incredible he is never required to actually cook: “OK, my gay husband and our son-with-two-dads, how about we just stay here together forever and be happy?”

Also Prince Jin: *Creeps on Zhou Zishu like a gaslighting m’fker*

Anyway, if Prince Jin always knew what Han Ying was up to all along, is the letter about ZZS’s father a plant, with false info? It was just kind of suspiciously hanging out in the open on Prince Jin’s desk.

[angerrrabagwell]

What has happened to Gabby Petito has me, quite frankly, triggered. Honestly, I’ve been feeling extra screwed up lately. Ever since I recently saw someone who reminds me of a bad time in my life out and about at the same place I was. I haven’t been okay.

Now, this young girl (and don’t get me wrong, so so many other people), is dead. She is gone at the hands of someone who claimed to love her. And fuck, all I can keep thinking is, “I was that girl. I was Gabby.”

I think back to being an 18 year old, acting brave and tough all the time, while in the dark my boyfriend was physically and mentally abusing me. I think back to a physical altercation in his car - one where I fought back. Someone driving next to us saw and called the police. I watched the footage of Gabby and her boyfriend on the side of the road talking to police. In my head, I see 18 year old Angela, crying as the officers who pulled us over asked me if my boyfriend was hitting me. Through tears and a fat lip I told them we were just arguing. I told them that everything was fine. I told them that he would never hurt me and that the fight was my fault so that he wouldn’t get in trouble. I watched Gabby do the same. I saw myself in her. It tears me apart. I wonder if those cops ever think back on me. I made it out. Gabby did not.

I think back to being a 19 year old. I’m trying to get away from him. Instead, he shows up to friends houses when he knows I’m there. He drives around town, hoping that he’ll see my car. That’s when he starts to erratically follow me as I drive. I’m always scared. 19 year old me keeps trying to break up with him. He coerces me over to his parents house late one night. I was hanging out with a girlfriend. He didn’t like that. He was mad. I’m sitting on his living room couch telling him that I don’t want to be with him anymore. He walks out of the room, only to return with a chefs knife. I’m terrified. I’m frozen. He holds it up to his neck and says if I leave him he’ll kill himself in front of me. I’m only 19. I stay.

When things in life are going well for me he gets mean. If I played well in a softball game it’s “gay” or I “still suck.” When schools try to recruit me he talks down on each program. If a friend wants to have lunch and then a movie day I get accused of actually going out and fucking other men. He texts me every two minutes and if I don’t reply right away he gets abnormally angry. I’m always awaiting a punishment or a cruel comment. The only time he seems “happy” with me is when I’m being less successful than he is. I can never do better than him because if I do it’s going to be a big fight. It’s going to be a dangerous fight.

One night he kicks me out of his car at the marina. I don’t remember why anymore. But I remember being determined to just walk home. I only lived down the street. But once he saw that I wasn’t begging to be let back in the car, he starts driving, dangerously, towards me and slamming on the breaks right before he hits me. I’m frantically looking around hoping there’s someone out there who see’s what’s happening. There’s no one. I’m alone. It’s either get back in the car or take the chance of him running me over. I can’t trust him not to. I get back in the car.

My friends visit me at work and notice all the bruises on my arm. I show them a larger bruise on my upper arm and finger marks around my wrist. They tell me that I need to tell his family. They tell me that they’ll go with me so I don’t have to be alone. After work, my friend drives me to his place. He’s at work so he can’t intervene. I walk in with a friend and ask his mom to speak to her. I show her the bruises. I tell her which knife he threatened his life with. I tell her all the horrible things he has done to me. She says, “I can’t believe my son would ever act like that.” She sort of changes course and says that her and her husband will get him help. She tells me that they’re going to keep him away from me. She lied. They never did anything. Months later she guilts me by saying, “I don’t know where he would be without you. Probably jail.” Keeping him out of jail wasn’t my responsibility. You should have raised a better man.

I’m 30 now. I’m over eight years removed from this situation. Honestly, I thought I was okay. But recently I was diagnosed with “trauma and other stressor related disorder,” AKA pre-ptsd. It all stems from the five years of abuse I endured at his hands. The manipulation, attempted rape, using me as a punching bag, and the gaslighting to make me believe that I was crazy. Him making other people believe I was crazy because I started to lash out at him. I started to lash out and react because I was tired of being harmed. I see Gabby Petito and I see myself. And I’m fucking sad. And I’m fucking pissed off. Because this can’t keep happening to women. This can’t keep happening to indigenous women. This can’t keep happening to black women. This can’t keep happening to latinx women. This can’t keep happening to trans women. This can’t keep happening to Asian women. And this can’t keep happening to white women.

I feel guilt. I feel guilt because I never tried to get him punished for his actions. I feel guilt because after the years of abuse at his hands he went on to hit other women. I feel guilt because I know he has a live-in girlfriend now and I don’t know if he hurts her. Can someone so evil be worthy of redemption? Is it even safe to assume he is different? Every day I fear for this woman. Does she know that he not only beat me, mercilessly, but also completely ruined my brain. It took me years to feel better about myself. It took me years to feel comfortable with sudden movements. Honestly, I’m still working on it. Does she know that he went and put hands on the woman after me? Has the cycle ended? Does it continue? What if something happens to her and it all could have been prevented if I had just spoken up? Will the next girl be able to get away if he snaps?

I look at Gabby Petito and I see myself. Only I got lucky. She was stuck out there alone with her abuser. She tried to get through - I know she did, because that was me, for five years. I look at Gabby Petito, and I see a kid who deserved so much better than what she got. I look at Gabby Petito and my heart fucking breaks because we live in a world where we allow this to happen over and over again.

I’m mad. I’m angry and sad and frustrated. And I’m sorry to her. I’m sorry to her family. I’m sorry to her friends. My abuser got away with it. I hope that her abuser does not.

[darthspideys]

antithesis // six

din djarin x jedi! reader

summary: You expected to find another of yoda’s species, much less under the protection of a particularly stubborn mandalorian. Little do you know its that discovery that will change life as you know it, and put all three of you in danger you never saw coming.

words: ~2k

a/n: No thoughts... only that next weeks episode is called “The Jedi” and we’re finally gonna get to see ahoska tano in live action.... 

disclaimer: I h8 baby yoda and it shows

It’s nighttime when you get to Yavin IV. Somehow you’d convinced him that if he wants to know where the child comes from, the three of you need to go there first. It’s comfortably silent, and stagnant, not even a breeze blows through the trees.  You touch down as quietly as you can, and you breathe a sigh of relief as soon as you get your feet in the grass. You take off your shoes, which surprises Din. “I told you, I grew up on a farm,” You tell him. 

“Does not explain not wanting to wear shoes.” 

“I haven’t felt grass in forever,” You reply. 

“You miss home,” He observes.

“Come on,” You say, as the child squirms in his arms, “We’re almost there.” 

The door opens to the house and Kes Dameron steps out onto the porch, blaster drawn. Din reaches for his own blaster but you grab his hand to stop him, and signal him to stand back as you walk forward. You walk towards the house slowly, ready to dodge if he shoots which you don’t think he will. 

“Hey,” You say, arms raised. “It’s me.” 

He looks at you in shock and lowers the weapon. You see a figure crouched behind his legs, but as soon as you step into the light of the porch a little boy runs out into your arms. You smile as soon as you see him, and you scoop him up into your arms. Poe Dameron squeals your name, and you squeeze him tight. “Hi kid, I missed you.” 

“You did?” His eyes are just like his mothers and they look at you with wonder. 

“Of course I did,” You say, trying to hide the tiredness in your voice. 

 Kes finally leaves the porch and comes out to meet you, you can tell even more so now that he’s surprised to see you. To be fair, you're surprised that you came back as much as he is but desperate times. “Hi,” He says never taking his eyes off you. 

“Hi.” You say back, allowing yourself to have a moment. 

“What are you doing here?” He asks, finally.

“I’m in trouble, just a little bit.” 

“Oooh,” Poe coos from your arms, “Are you going to get a timeout?” 

“I don’t know,” You tickle him a little and he giggles, “Maybe.” 

“What kind of trouble?” Kes asks you. 

“The Jedi kind,” You sigh, “You’re not in danger but I need a place to lie low for a couple of cycles, and I need to use the tree.” 

“Of course,” He says, “I still don’t know how you use that thing but it’s all yours.” 

“I’ve explained it to you, multiple times,” You narrow your eyes at him. “You don’t listen,” You break with a smile. 

“Probably because it makes no sense.” 

The trees rustle and you turn your attention back to the tree line. You forgot that Din was there, oops. “Also I brought a-friend with me.” As if on cue, Din steps out of the tree line and Kes is surprised again. 

He looks at you with wide eyes, “Did you go home?” 

That’s a loaded question and he knows it. He should also know that you wouldn’t find him at home, though most people have a different definition of home than you do. “I didn’t, I just happened upon him.” 

“That’s very coincidental considering the fact that you-“ 

You cut him off, by punching him in the arm when Din gets close enough to hear you. “Just a coincidence,” You say with a smile, signaling to him that the conversation about that is over. “Anyways I appreciate you doing me this favor and-“ You turn to Poe, who’s beginning to fall asleep in your arms, “shouldn’t you be in bed?” 

He’s asleep now and you smile, walking into the house with Din at your heels. The two men stand in the kitchen as you put the young boy to bed in his room, you tuck him in softly and close the door quietly. 

You see the way that Kes is looking at you from the kitchen counter, and you sigh. You turn to Din, “You should probably go check on the ship.” He looks at you confused at first, but eventually he nods and walks out of the front door. You turn to Kes, bracing yourself for the conversation you’ve been avoiding for the past year. “So.. long time no see.” 

“That’s a nice way of putting it.” 

A long drawn out pause ensues, “I’m going to be perfectly honest with you, like I always have been. I don’t know what to say here.” You keep your distance, “I’m not going to say I’m sorry because I know it will just make it worse.” 

“But you are sorry?” 

“Of course I am.” 

“You told me you were done with Mandalorians years ago.” 

You knew he was going to bring it up, you cross your arms over your chest and lean back in your chair, “I am.” He’s going to push it, and he’s going to push your buttons because he knows what they are. He’s angry with you, it doesn’t take a genius to know that, and on some level he has every right to be. 

He crosses his arms in an attempt to mimic you and gives it right back to you, “It doesn’t look like it.” 

“It’s a long story,” You start, knowing that he’ll tell you that he has time so you continue on with the story. “That child he has is force sensitive and I need it before it causes too much trouble. I didn’t think a Mandalorian was protecting it. You saw Mandalore, I didn’t think any of them were left.” 

He looks at you in a way that you used to beg him to. He looks like he wants to reach across the table and grab your hand, “I know but-” 

“What?” You ask, though you already know what he’s going to say. You know exactly what this whole conversation has been about, the issue that he’s been trying to unearth. It’s not about Din, it never was, it always was about you and where you’ve been. 

“It’s been a long time, and you just show up out of nowhere. You didn’t even want to come, you just needed something from me.” 

“I wanted to come,” You say, with emotion tickling at the back of your throat. You really don’t want to talk about it, but you figure that you're going to have to face it now or later. “It’s hard for me too, to be here, to see the two of you-”

“Hard for you? It’s harder for me and my son-”

“I can’t do anything about that!” You raise your voice louder than you mean to. “She was my best friend, Kes, and I miss her but I cannot be here,” You pause trying to hold back the emotion in your voice that threatens to overtake your entire argument. “You don’t want me here,” You say quieter than the rest of it, “Neither of you want me here. I am not his mother, I cannot be his mother, and you-” That’s a whole other thing altogether. “You don’t want me here.” 

His voice is softer this time, “I want you here.” 

You know what he means, you know what all of this means, and you’re mad at yourself for even coming here knowing what you know and knowing the history. He thinks he wants you here, but he doesn’t. What he wants is  his wife back and he’s trying to hold onto you like you're some piece of her that’ll fit into a puzzle he’s trying to solve. Maybe you are, maybe you hold some piece of her with you, but you still don’t fit. 

“I told you I couldn’t be here, I told you that this isn’t my life and that I couldn’t do all of this. There will always be people looking for me, always someone who wants to kill me and everyone that I love, I won’t put you in harm's way.” 

“And suddenly I’m getting a sense of deja vu.” 

“You ask me everytime to stay and I tell you that I can’t. It’s the same story, so what makes you keep asking?” 

“Because every time I don’t want you to leave.” 

“Well maybe if you didn’t want me to leave you could stop being so mad when I show up.” 

He’s smiling, “Can’t help it.”

“I know, being a jerk comes so naturally to you,” You laugh a little. “I will stop avoiding you from now on. I will come back here to your stupidly beautiful farm and stay for a couple of days at least.” 

“I’d ask you to promise-”

“-but you know I don’t do that.” 

“Speaking of things that you don’t do, I think that you should reveal something personal about yourself.” 

“To you?” 

“To him.” 

You roll your eyes, “And what do you suggest I tell him? That I don’t make promises, that I spent six months on a swamp planet with a tiny green thing, that I crashed two x wings in the course of two weeks and or something else that shatters the image I’ve built up of myself.” 

“You always want people to be afraid of you.”

“I don’t want people to challenge me, very different.” 

“I don’t think it's going to make him want to challenge you.” 

You sigh, “I know, but it feels like I’ve lied about it this entire time.” 

“Well the best remedy for that is to just come clean.” 

You get up from the table and walk out into the yard. The tree glows blue in the harsh moonlight, you're drawn to it like you always are, like you're sure Luke was the moment he first laid eyes on the sapling. The way the force flows through it is familiar, you don’t know if it has the answers you're looking for but what scares you more is not finding them. 

You reach out to the tree, putting your hand against its body. The energy is even more powerful when you can touch it yourself, like how the force is clearer when Jedi meditate together. It’s about the physicality of touch, the bringing together of hands, the closeness that comes from being able to hold onto someone or something and not want to let go. 

You know Din is behind you before he even says anything, you've become more sensitive to the way he moves, the tiny telltale signs that he's close.

“I was looking for Mandalorians before I found you. I went to Mandalore after the empire-” You don’t even say it, “I stood in the ashes of the capitol and wondered where it all went wrong, and then I wondered if there were more. Which is more than just curiosity.” 

“I figured it was more than that,” He says. 

“So you know what it is then?” 

You realize as you close your eyes and feel in tune with the tree that you should just come out with it. You’ve been with him for three days now, and if he wasn’t already suspicious then he should be. You turn around and his helmet is in his hands. 

“I’m Mandalorian.”

“You’re Mandalorian.”

[itgetsdarksometimes35]

Small Price to Pay

Warnings: Non con, dub con, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, little bit of childbirth, slight depression, 18+

Word count: 2,973

Pairings: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Summary: Reader is the youngest girl in her family and her father is looking to sell his daughter into marriage next. She’s able to fend off majority of the men who come to court her, but then a mysterious man with eyes the color of the ocean comes into the picture. Money is a small price to pay for a happy life after all. 

~ indicates a time change

Prompts: The song “Light” by Sleeping at last

A/N: This is for @marvelfulxbabes​ challenge that I’m so thrilled to be apart of. I’m sorry for the hiatus, school is always way busier during the 2nd semester, but I have a bunch of stuff coming out. As for my series they may take a while, so I’m sorry if you were invested in those. They are coming though, I miss them deeply. Anyway, hope you enjoy :)

Ps: Thinking about part 2 to this, whatcha think? ;)

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Your father was a douchebag. Plain and simple. He had bought your mother from your grandfather and he had sold your older sisters to men twice their age. Now that you were 18, it was your turn. You were extremely close to your sister, Anne. She was the third oldest and the last to leave you alone with your two younger half brothers. She was the most like you and always fought back the men who came to bid on her like property. Sadly, a man came by and easily found it charming. She always said to never give in, figure out what they want and do the opposite. You’d be successful only until dad finds a man who doesn’t give a damn at all. They were out there, but your father had failed nearly a thousand times already. 

Since your birthday, at least three men have come to your house to try to court you. In fact, that’s what your birthday present was, a rich man named Tony Stark there to court you. He worked as a CEO on the upper east side for a well known tech company. He was loaded, and your father wanted in. You figured out Tony like proper and well spoken ladies, someone to show off at his expensive Galas filled with people who spoke seven different languages. So, you acted a slob. Spilled your fancy tea all over yourself and his prestine suit, mispoke several words, use vulgar language, and acted painfully stupid. Tony marched right out and your father made you kneel in rice until your knees bled. It was worth the pain. 

It’s been six months and your father was unsuccessful. You have never seen your sisters since their marriage and you missed them, especially Anne. You didn’t want to end up a housewife somewhere with no say in anything. When your mom died your father quickly remarried, it was as if your mother meant nothing to him. You’d be damned if that happened to you. If you were going to get married, it’d be for love. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Wake up, you have a visitor.” Your father shook you awake. You rubbed your eyes and looked to your father, he was already smoking a cigar even though it was 8am. You groaned and got out of bed, walking to your closet, pulling out a t-shirt and jeans. 

“Oh no, you can go out like that.” Your father pointed to your sleep shorts that showed off your legs and cupped your ass perfectly; your top was a thin tank top that showed your hardening nipples. You rolled your eyes and started walking to your door, shouldering your way past your father. 

You walked into the living room and saw a man standing there with his back to you facing the window. His arms were folded and you saw one sparkling in the light, he had a metal arm. You gasped at it and stopped in your tracks. The man turned to you and the corners of his mouth threatened to rise. He was hot. His hair was pinned out of his face in a man bun, he wore navy blue dress pants and a white button up dress shirt that had he rolled to his elbows. His eyes were as bright as the diamonds the strange men bring to you in order to try to buy your love. 

“Mr. Barnes, my daughter. Daughter, Mr. Barnes.” The way your father said daughter bit at your nerves. He knew introducing you with a title rather than your name made you feel inferior, as if that’s the only thing there was to know about you. You glared at your father before turning back to Mr Barnes. He extended his flesh hand to you. 

“Pleased to meet you. I doubt your name is daughter, though.”

He smiled at you, but it didn’t meet his eyes. You took his hand and faked a smile. “Mmmhm, it’s not. Y/n will do just fine.” Mr. Barnes shook your hand before gesturing to the couch. 

“Take a seat, let’s get to know each other.” At that your father excused himself, but not before casting you a warning look. You smirked back at him before taking your seat next to Mr. Barnes. “So, how old are you?”

“97, just a few years younger than you.” You bit at him. You always lead with sarcasm, if they laughed they were serious and you’d have to become boring. If they didn’t that means you had to continue being “unladylike.” 

Mr. Barnes eyebrows shot up before he laughed a bit. It wasn’t real, he was uncomfortable. He was easy to read, you had this in the bag. 

“Alright, I see why you’re so uptight. I wouldn’t like it if men were to come in and try to buy me either. Believe it or not, I used to hate this practice.”

“Yet you’re willingly here and seem to be enjoying it.” You cocked your head to the side, your smart mouth making him shift a bit. 

“My younger sisters have been victims of this trade,” Mr.Barnes ignores you, “I always said I wouldn’t do it. As time has gone on, no woman of value isn’t being bargained off. You should be lucky your father cares for you so much, the ones who aren’t cared for are just thrown out into the world.” 

“Grateful? My father sold my sisters like livestock for a couple millions and I haven’t seen any of them in years! This “bargaining” system is destroying families and is never created equal. What do the men and young boys suffer? What do they lose? They can still go see their family. They still have freedom.” Your voice raised, the audacity that these men had always blew your mind. They didn’t understand and never would, so why did they try to sit there and try to make you? They saw how unhappy their sisters and mothers were, yet they continued on with this bullshit for generations. If you ever were married off and had a son, you’d beg him to stop the cycle. You’d try even harder to protect your daughter. 

Mr. Barnes sighed and sat up a bit more. “I’m sorry doll, I didn’t mean to upset you. I meant it as a compliment, honest.” You crossed your arms and glared at him. He looked apologetic but you didn’t care. You weren’t here to be nice, you were there to survive as long as you possibly could. 

“Well, Mr. Barnes, your intentions don’t seem to have worked out, did they?” You raised your chin and said his name with a poison that even stunned you. There’s no way he’s gonna want you.

“My real name is James, sorry for the formicality,” Mr.Barnes was suddenly smiling and standing up. He crossed to the door that separated the living room and the main area in your house. Where your father was sitting on the other side. What just happened?

You lookedon with curious eyes as James opened the door and called for your father. He was still smiling and your father rushed over, angry eyes finding yours before turning soft at James when he saw his beaming face. “We have a deal, sir” He shook your father’s hand while your jaw dropped. Fuck.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two million dollars. That’s how much you’re worth apparently. You don’t know where you went wrong, but being a brat was only going to work so many times. James apparently didn’t mind at all that you had a mouth, in fact he was telling your father how much he loved it. He said while looking for a wife he pretended to be proper so that when the girls acted the way they thought he wanted them to, boring in his opinion, he knew they weren’t for him. You, on the other hand, spoke your mind and were feisty. It ignited a flame James believed was dead. 

You looked on with glossed over eyes as you say your belongings being packed away and set in a moving truck. It was mostly irreplaceable objects such as photos and your favorite clothing. James promised to buy you new things and to add a new wardrobe. He must’ve been loaded because after dropping that much he still promised so much more. Lucky girl you were.

You signed a paper while a ring decorated your finger and numbly kissed James on the lips to seal your marriage. He wore a similar band on his left hand finger. “Congratulations, may your marriage be filled with joy, blah blah blah.” Your father blabbered while he sucked on another cigar and counted the money James had given him. 

James took you to his house. It was a humble suburban home on the outskirts of New York, much different than your penthouse in the city. There was a white picket fence and freshly trimmed grass decorating the outside. “We’re home, doll.” James cut the engine of his BMW, putting his hand on your thigh. You changed into a short blue summer dress that complimented your skin tone and brown wedges. You looked like your mom and every other dutiful wife you’d known. 

You stepped out of the car and looked up at the house that you’d be spending the rest of your life. The sky was clear and beautiful but you felt the depressive clouds that rained over cul de sac, drenching their housewives. The weight these women held, loving the men who cheated, hated, and abused them. James came up behind you and pulled your waist so that you leaned on him. He kissed your cheek and looked into your eyes. “I can’t wait for us to fill the rooms in the house. I can see it now, two kids a boy and a girl. Maybe more if it feels right.” Your stomach churned at the thought. You didn’t want kids with him. But it didn’t matter, when you signed your name you signed away your happiness. The light had gone out in your soul. 

“Yes dear.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two years into your marriage felt like a decade. Every day was the same: wake up, make breakfast, see James off to work, clean, shower and look pretty for James, cook dinner, welcome James home, eat dinner and ask James about his day, have sex, and go to sleep. The sex at first was painful and he was never gentle. He was never lovey dovey, never brought flowers, just wanted a one-sided relationship. 

You always went to visit his family and friends on holidays or you hosted his family and friends at your house. You hadn’t seen your family and, even though you hated your dad and never really talked with your stepmom and brothers, you missed them for the similarity. You were missing your brothers growing up, one was three when you left the other was six. You asked once to see your sisters and James merely shrugged it off. “You would only bother them” he reasoned, “They’re busy running a household like you. They don’t have time for useless small talk.”

Today it wasn’t your alarm that woke you up. It was the vomit that was rising in your stomach, pushing its way out of your mouth. You ran to your bathroom and puked in the toilet. You continued gagging and dry heaving when everything was out of your tummy. James walked in rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and yawning. “What’s wrong, honey?”

“N-nothing, dear. I’m sorry for waking you.”

James shook his head and walked closer to you. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I think I just ate something.”

James frowned. “We eat the same thing, have for years. You always skip lunch because it ruins your appetite for dinner. I’m not feeling sick.” His lips showed signs of cracking a smile as he bit his finger, pretending to ponder what could be going on.

You knew what he meant. It had been two years of sensless fucking. Like you had held out on marriage your body had held out on pregnancy, but just like your marriage to james, your body had come to a point that it could no longer fight. 

James opened up the medicine cabinet behind the mirror and pulled out a pink box. He reached in and pulled out to reveal two white sticks. He handed them to you. “Take them.”

You reached out and took the sticks, starting to pull your pants down so you could pee. Thirty minutes later, James’ phone timer rang and he looked at the sticks. His face scrunched as pure joy took over his features. He held the sticks out to you. “We’re pregnant!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had just gotten done with your baby shower and you were now sitting down for a break before you would get up and start cleaning. You rubbed your sore back and nine month old belly. Baby boy was bigger than normal, James said it was because of his special genes. James was saying bye to his best friend, Steve, before he shut the door and turned to you. Of course, nobody you were close with was at the party, just James’ family and close friends. He did say he had phones your father to tell him the news, but he failed to send even a card. You had grown to not expect much or feel sad for the neglect you got emotionally from your husband or your father. 

James made his way to you, he was still smiling. “Not much longer, doll. We’ll be meeting this big guy any day now.” He rubbed your belly before grabbing your hand, pulling you up to stand despite your pain. “Dance with me.” You both danced to music that wasn’t playing and you felt your son kick. You smiled, the light you thought you’d lost was slowly lighting again. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The contractions were horrible. Nothing you had ever felt before. You were screaming and clutching James’ hand as you were being wheeled into the hospital room. Nurses and doctors poked and prodded at your skin, asking you questions you weren’t capable of answering due to the immense pain you were feeling. Your legs were propped up and James moved closer to you, still holding your hand. The doctor came to stand between your legs before sitting in a chair. He nodded to James while you sobbed out as a new wave of pain washed over you. “Alright, Mrs. Barnes, push.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your schedule was thrown off balance a bit, you had a newborn now. You still did the majority of the things the same, wake up, make breakfast, get James Jr, or Bucky as a nickname, and feed him, see James off to work, clean up, bathe and dress Bucky, clean and dress yourself up, make lunch because it was important for breastfeeding now, walk around to settle Bucky for a nap, cook dinner, greet James, feed Bucky, get him ready for bed, have sex with James, and sleep yourself. 

You loved your son unconditionally, he slept in the crib next to you and James’ bed for now. “Easier access” James had said. You didn’t mind, you were closer with the love of your life. 

James held your wrists in one hand as he thrusted into you, his hips crushing into yours at fast and hard rhythm that was sure to leave bruises. His moans and skin slapping skin was the only thing you could hear in the room, Bucky was sleeping soundly. 

“Fuck, your pussy is so good for me. Still so tight, even after Bucky. Shit I’m gonna cum, gonna fill you up so you can give me a girl. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes, James.”

“Mmm, good girl. My good girl.” James finished inside you, grunting in the process. He rolled over and released a long breath. “You’re such a good mom, doll. Such a good wife.” He sleepily rambled. You hummed in response and rolled over to face Bucky, watching as his tiny hands scrunched into fists and his steady breaths caused his chest to rise and fall. His light blue and grey onesie and matching hat barely fit, he was growing faster than you thought any baby did. You’d ask James to buy more soon. Maybe he would let you go too, picking out baby clothes for your son would make you so happy. You’d work towards it, make James’ favorite meal and might even throw in a few blowjobs. 

Bucky’s face started to contort and he soon started to fuss, his pacifier falling out of his mouth. You looked at the time and knew it was time for his feeding. He ate a lot but that’s just what a growing boy like him needed, plenty of food. You picked him up before he could wake James and guided him to your nipple. He stopped crying and started sucking, looking at you with big blue eyes like his father. You let you fist wrap around your finger as you slightly rocked and quietly hummed. Bucky was the light you needed in your life. He made your soul glow again, and he gave you hope for the future. Hidden in the dressure was money you were slowly stealing from James. Five dollars here, another ten there. By this time next year you’d have enough money to leave with your son Bucky. You’d leave with your sisters to live in a house Anne had found in Germany. 

Bucky let go of your breast and cooed. He looked at you with sleepy eyes as he let out a small yawn. You smiled. “With every heartbeat I have left, I will defend your last breath.” You promised your son. He was the light, and you felt you could sleep peacefully at last knowing he was right there with you.

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@jtargaryen18​

[somedayonbroadway]

aaa hii! i was wondering if you could do the hercules au, please? thank youuu 💕

Hello, friends! This is an AU based off of @racetrackhigg original Mood Boards that you can find right here!

Hercules AU

Characters

Spot Conlon — Hercules

Racetrack Higgins — Megara

Jack Kelly — Phil

William Snyder — Hades

Morris Delancey and Oscar Delancey — Pain and Panic

Also, DeMarius Copes is all of the Muses. He just is.

So…

We are basing this off of the Disney rendition of Hercules, for the most part, even though their telling of this tale is very much modified for younger viewers. I mean, who are they kidding? The Greek Gods aren’t the loving, family friendly types that Disney tried to trick us into thinking they were when we were children, but it’s fine. We’re gonna roll with this, maybe change a little bit of it. And it is going to take place in modern day (excluding quarantine, because in fantasy worlds, worldwide quarantines don’t exist) because, why the heck not?

Back when the world was new, the planet earth was down on its luck. Chaos reigned and earthquakes and volcanoes ran amok. But then along came Zeus.

Ya’ll know the song.

There’s a party on Olympus, one of great importance. A son has been born to Zeus and Hera. A son they’ve named Hercules. Every single God shows up to celebrate the child’s birth and congratulate the ruling couple of Olympus who is adored by all but one; Zeus’s brother Hades.

Despite typically never leaving his kingdom, Hades has made a special exception on this joyous occasion to meet his new nephew, a new golden boy who is showered in gold and glitter already, although only having been born the day before. Zeus had even fashioned the child his very own flying horse, which he calls a Pegasus. Everyone adores the child and Hades dismisses him, looking disgusted at his very existence.

See, Hades knew something that the other gods didn’t. Hades just so happens to be great friends with the fates. He had a meeting with them prior to this celebration he had never intended on going to. The sisters explained to him that the great plan he’d been wielding could be successful, that one day the planets would align, making way for his rule over Olympus and then Earth. There was only one problem.

Hercules.

That fateful day when those planets aligned would be eighteen years from that very night. Hercules’s eighteenth birthday. And on that day, should Hercules fight, Hercules would win.

Hades saw only one solution. If there was no Hercules, there was no fight.

On Olympus, Hades has all eyes on, giving his two right hand men the opportunity to hide on the great mountain and wait out until nightfall where they would steal the child and force him to drink a potion that would make him mortal.

That night, chaos erupts among the Gods and Zeus cries, sending a storm down onto Earth as Hades men carry out his plan, taking the baby down to the land below and forcing the potion down his throat, knowing that he must drink every last drop to become truly mortal so that they can kill him.

Unfortunately for them, a young couple comes running when they hear a baby cry. The two henchmen drop the potion before the child can finish it and shapeshift into snakes before going to bite the kid and kill him. Having not drunk the whole potion, however, Hercules held onto the strength he’d been born with and was able to protect himself from the two monsters, sending them slithering back to their master.

He then gets taken in by the couple who’d been praying for a baby that they were unable to have. They claim him as their own and name him Sean. Sean Conlon.

The occupants of Mt. Olympus are crushed at the news of their prince becoming mortal. Still, they carried on, watching as their Hercules was raised from afar in a city that never slept, one he grew up to adore. Brooklyn, New York.

Growing up for young Sean, however, was anything but easy. With a physical strength he couldn’t begin to understand or control, he seemed to make a mess anywhere he went. People were wary of him. Kids his own age didn’t like him and he so he didn’t like them. He closed himself off from the world and hid himself away, only entrusting his parents with the fear that he didn’t belong there, that he was too different. It was beginning to get to the point that people were truly frightened of him and his abilities.

Sean didn’t have any friends. He didn’t have a phone. He didn’t need one. He didn’t have anyone to talk to. Girls would sometimes get flustered when they saw him because of the muscles he seemed to get from nowhere, but the second they realized he was the freak he was, they ran the other way. Sean didn’t mind. He could never look at the girls the way the first looked at him.

Eventually, while accompanying his father downtown, he destroys an entire building. He doesn’t understand what’s wrong with him. So his parents finally came clean. They admit to him for the first time how they found him, how he was all alone and already had these abilities that they didn’t understand. He asks them why they never told him and they don’t have an answer. They can only offer him a small necklace that had been around his neck when they’d stumbled upon him, one written in Ancient Greek. One that Sean can read, having never read Greek in his life.

It says Hercules.

Running off, feeling scared and alone and so confused, Sean finds himself wandering into the woods where he is met by a man wearing a white suit with a golden tie. The man claims to be Zeus, his father.

Initially laughing at this, Sean tries to leave, but is pulled back by an invisible force as Zeus takes him in, studying his face for the first time in nearly eighteen years. He looks happy to see him and tells Sean what happened, how he had been stolen from his home and in order to return, needed to prove himself to the gods. Sean is still a bit skeptical until Zeus whistles for a horse to come out of the shadows.

It isn’t until Sean sees Pegasus that he thinks there might be some truth to this man’s story. All his life he’d been obsessed with what he’d thought was a mythical creature. He’d made drawings of it, studied their mythology, had even learned to ride horses when he was young.

Pegasus missed him.

While reuniting with his old friend, Zeus tells Sean of a man he needs to meet in order to ensure his return to Olympus, where he belongs. He described the man as the son of a demigod, one who trains heroes and teaches them how to hone their skills and use them for the greater good. So Sean takes Pegasus up into the air, going to seek out this man, Jack Kelly.

When he manages to find the man’s apartment with Zeus’s help, he lands Pegasus down on the roof and knocks on the man’s apartment door.

The man is less than willing to open it up for him.

Jack tells him to go away, obviously not much of a people person. But Sean persists, finally calling out that he needs help and that Jack was the only one who’d be able to do such a thing.

Recognizing this desperate plea, Jack reluctantly opens up the door, asking what Sean wanted. To Sean’s surprise, the man is very young, probably only five years older than himself. When Sean admits he needs someone to teach him how to be a hero, Jack tells him that he’s closed for business and would never reopen.

That’s when Sean begs him for help, claiming to be the son of Zeus. He explains that he never fit in on Earth and needs Jack’s help to make it to Olympus. Jack has the same reaction Sean had to the news. He laughs, not believing it. Not until he hears lightning crackle outside.

With no other choice than to believe him, Jack tells Sean that he’s not the first kid that had come knocking on his door. Jack explains, while painting a picture of a girl that lives in the apartment across from him that he’s fallen madly in love with despite never having spoken to her, that his father assigned him with the task of training new heroes and keeping them safe on their quests and adventures, something Jack loathed greatly as he wished to have his own life and go on adventures. However, after one hero in training had been reckless and stupid, a demigod, son of Ares, he’d died, making his father angry.

Jack had been cursed after that day. He can’t die. He can’t age. Most people would consider immortality a blessing, but Jack explains that it’s not a blessing when he’s been trapped in New York City, unable to leave as there were invisible barriers specially catered to keep him inside. He’d always dreamed of running away and seeing the world, and it was as though that dream was being dangled right in front of him, just out of his reach. He’d been stuck in an endless cycle of nothingness for years and he didn’t want it to get worse. But Sean makes Jack a deal. If he were to train him, he’d ask his father to lift Jack’s curse and allow him to continue aging and growing like normal while also being able to see the world.

So Jack agrees, still skeptical, but slightly hopeful. He tells Sean that they would begin the next night in the woods where Sean had met Zeus and he better not screw this up for either of them.

To Jack’s surprise, Sean is a much better hero than he’d originally thought. He admires the boy’s strength and endurance and constantly tries to push Sean to his limits to see how much he can take. He never found a breaking point. He teaches Sean how to use a sword as well as a gun, he trains him mentally and physically for every situation he can. He explains that his own strong suit is knife throwing and archery. Sean begins to look up to Jack and treat him more as a friend than anything else. He likes Jack. Jack is the first person who didn’t go running the second he’d walked into a room.

So after weeks of training and testing, Jack tells Sean it’s time for the real deal. They’re gonna go see what Sean can do in the real world to help real people. Sean asks how they’re gonna do that and Jack replies with “Have you eva’ walked around New York?”

They begin to explore, trying to find any kind of trouble they can until they stumble onto an alley where a young man, about Sean’s age, is struggling to get away from an older guy who’s literally pinning the kid to the wall. Jack tries to help Sean come up with some kind of plan before Sean just runs off, leading Jack to resign himself to the fact that he’s doomed and his curse will never be lifted.

Sean goes in and demands the man get off only to find that when the man turns around, he’s got three eyes and a snake's tongue. Sean pulls out a knife only for the kid to tell him that he can handle himself, calling Sean “Wonder Boy” before the monster in front of him throws him to the ground and punches Sean in the stomach, sending him flying back into a wall. Jack can only watch from afar, not allowed to help any hero in his battle.

The monster turns back to the boy who tries to scramble away. It is clear to Sean that the monster is trying to take advantage of the kid sexually. So he steps back up, plunging his knife into the monster’s back before picking him up and throwing him into the opposite wall. He then scoops the boy up into his arms and rushes him over to Jack.

Jack immediately tries to check the kid over to make sure he’s okay, but the boy just seems mildly annoyed, making sarcastic comments about how The Incredible Hulk over there just saved a damsel in distress while he watches Sean fight the monster with the hell of Pegasus who helps him kill the thing.

Realizing that this other boy was genuinely concerned for him, the blond kid softens just a little as Sean walks back over to him. He introduces himself as Antonio, or Race as his friends call him. At least they would, if he had any. He calls Sean a variety of flirtatious names as he thanks him, including “Spot” because of Sean’s freckles. Spot introduces himself as Sean Conlon, or Hercules as he’d been named by his godly father. He offers Race a ride to anywhere he wants to go on Pegasus, but Race refuses, admitting that he’s terrified of heights and is a big boy that can take care of himself, but still thanks Spot for coming to his rescue.

Sean falls a little bit for him much too quickly and much too easily before Race gives him a wink and a wave and walks off, seemingly fine.

Jack then tells Sean how stupid he is before leading him off further into the night and forcing Sean to listen to him even though the boy’s mind clearly kept drifting off to the mysterious stranger he’d just met.

Meanwhile, Race is off to the woods where he is met by two young men he refers to as Morris and Oscar and Hades himself, who is wearing a grey suit and a blood red tie. Morris and Oscar force Race to bow to the god after the boy initially doesn’t. Race fights all the way until Hades snaps his fingers and forces him to submit, having full control of the boy’s body anytime he wants it.

The king of the underworld asks Race why he doesn’t have the monster that he had requested an audience with by his side and Race explains that the monster made him an offer he had to refuse. Hades takes the boy by the chin. He loves to manhandle Race whenever he can, reveling in the fact that the kid would fight back against his hold only to have nowhere else to go. He tells Race that instead of removing two years from his sentence, he’ll be adding two on. In attempts to save himself, the kid blames the stranger who’d saved him, calling him Hercules.

Morris and Oscar, the shapeshifters originally responsible for the murder of Hercules, pale at this as their master burns with rage. Hades demands to know what happened after his servants lied to him only to turn to Race and tell him that he still had use for him. Race rolls his eyes, still defiant after nearly three years. Still, he has no choice but to do as he’s told.

A couple of days after rescuing Race from the ally, Spot and Jack are once again exploring the city, trying to find more trial runs for Sean, who Jack has taken to calling “Spot” to tease him. Spot’s doing rather well, especially considering he hadn’t died yet. So Jack is ready to start getting him attention before they hear a commotion in front of them.

Race rushes towards them, near in hysterics. He is relieved at the sight of Spot and begins begging him for help, stating that two little kids got trapped under a collapsed overpass. Without even waiting for Jack’s help, he whistles for Pegasus who reveals himself to the world in broad daylight and Race hesitates, still terrified of heights, but Spot grabs him and puts him on the back of the flying horse, asking him where to go. Race clings to him as he screams out street names.

Jack is understandably annoyed at being left behind and is forced to run in order to meet them at their destination.

Meanwhile, Spot lands Pegasus and Race crumbles to the ground, nearly vomiting as his entire body is trembling from being up so high.

Spot manages to get two small children to safety and does not stop them as they run off, unbeknownst to him, right to Hades.

Race crawls over to a nearby wall to support himself as he catches his breath and silently prays for Spot to get out of there while he still can.

A crowd gathers nearby, applauding Spot as they’ve just witnessed his heroism. Jack runs up to find Spot unsure of what to do. Before Jack can help him a hiss falls over the crowd. He pales before trying to scream at Spot to get out of the way, but the minute he reaches for Spot’s sword, his hand is burned. He’s not allowed to help.

So Spot grabs his own sword, turning around to find a monster rising from the fallen overpass. Jack recognizes it as a Hydra. Spot just starts swinging at it. After cutting off one head, he believes the fight to be over only for the thing to grow back with two other heads at its sides.

Race can do nothing but watch as Spot is nearly beaten and eaten alive by this monster he’d lured him to. He is horrified at himself, finding that he actually likes Spot. The guy is sweet and loyal, but Race knows he can’t fall for him. He knows he can’t.

Spot continues cutting the Hydra’s heads, even as Jack yells at him to stop.

Hades is watching from afar with a grin on his face. He is ready for the Hydra to kill the only thing standing between him and his eternal rule, but Spot manages to burn the monster alive, effectively killing it.

Race is relieved at that and barely manages to hide a smile as he saunters back up to Hades who is furious at the turn of events.

After this, Spot is made famous throughout the world, having been on camera whilst fighting the Hydra. He is asked for interviews, he’s given money, he’s made a hero in the eyes of the public.

This goes on for months.

Spot revels in the light of being the main attraction after being an outcast for so long. Jack is annoyed with him, but sticks by his side as his own life depends on it. Eventually, Jack just starts to roll along with it all as it becomes more and more stressful for Spot to keep up with his own fame as he continues his training and continues fighting monsters. It becomes abundantly clear to Jack how protective he’s becoming over the younger boy and he doesn’t like it, so he gets harder on Spot and pushes him further, only tiring Spot out faster.

Race watches every minute of it, finding himself enthralled by the man who’d saved him all those nights ago.

Hades, however, is not happy in the least. His two servants have given up and his slave is falling for the boy who would be his undoing. Race teases him smugly, telling him that he might as well accept defeat. This just makes the god even more angry. So Hades orders Race to find him a weakness. Race laughs at him.

So Hades reminds him why he’s there in the first place. He retells the boy the story of a child, a merely fourteen years old runaway who’d fallen in love with another, three years older than him. When the elder boy had tried to prove himself to the gods, he’d gotten fatally wounded and Hades had come to collect him. Unable to cope with the loss of his love, the child who knew nothing about the gods or love, for that matter, begged and pleaded for the god of death to take him instead. The god accepted, letting the not-so-heroic-hero live in exchange for the other boy’s soul for the next hundred years. Finding out what the young child had done, the resurrected hero ran off, finding another to worship the ground he walked on while the boy who’d given everything to save him rotten in possession of Hades, the cruelest god there was.

Race insists that he remembers and that he’d learned his lesson and would not be making the same mistake twice. So Hades hands Race a cellphone with a picture of Spot on it and explains to him as though he were a child that all he needed was to know what Spot’s weakness was. Race does not respond. So Hades leans in close to his ear and promises Race the one thing he craved above all else in exchange for this simple task.

His freedom.

Race drops the phone at the words, having never expected to hear them outloud. So he does as he’s told.

Back with Spot and Jack, Jack is trying to work out Spot’s schedule while Spot wallows alone in his mansion after speaking to his father in the forest again. His father tells him that he has not yet proved himself worthy and must still remain on earth.

Breaking into the giant house, Race finds Spot who is relieved to see him after so long. He asks Spot if he wants to get out of here. Spot is hesitant, because he’s supposed to meet with Jack for training, but Race convinces him to take a night off and run away with him.

And Spot can’t say no.

Exploring the city, Race flirts with Spot and Spot is the perfect gentleman, only making life so much harder for Race who wishes that this boy could’ve just been a jerk who deserved all of this. Spot buys him flowers and makes him laugh and makes him feel free for the first time in years.

While they’re walking, Race accidentally trips, falling right into Spot’s arms. Spot carries him to a bench to inspect Race’s ankle even though the other boy insists that he’s fine. He explains that he has weak ankles and flirtatiously inquires if Spot has any to which Spot replies he doesn’t think he does and he scoops Racer up again, putting him back on his feet to make sure Race is okay. They dance beneath the stars for a long moment before Jack flies overhead on Pegasus and jumps down in between them.

He screams at Spot and tells him he’ll be training like hell for the next week and he warns Race to stay away, feeling bad about it later as there’s something in Race’s eyes that tells him this was not the whole story.

Spot gives Race a kiss goodnight and leaves and Jack goes to follow him before feeling too guilty and turning back to apologize. And he accidentally hears a conversation he was not meant to hear.

When Race is alone, he has a sinking feeling in his chest and feels as though he’s floating on air all at once. He knows he has fallen for this new hero and he stares at the flowers Spot gave him before he is forced to stand by the air around him and he looks up to find his master waiting in front of him.

Race tells the god that he quits, that he won’t keep doing this. Hades only laughs and cruelly reminds the boy that he owns his mind, soul and body and Race has no choice in the matter. The boy tried to explain that Spot doesn’t have any weaknesses. He says it proudly, blushing as he twirls the flowers around in his hand.

That’s when it hits Hades. He smugly tells Race that he is sorely mistaken and snaps his finger, vanishing right along with the boy.

Having only heard a small piece of the conversation, Jack rushes to warn Spot who calls him a liar and a jealous, ungrateful loser who will never be able to talk to the girl that he’s in love with. Hurt by this, Jack leaves, knowing he’s not wanted or needed anymore. It shouldn’t matter to him what happened next.

Spot goes outside to train, trying to blow off some steam, knowing he needs to apologize to Jack but not fully knowing how to.

There’s a man waiting outside. One that Spot recognizes.

The man’s name is William Snyder, a business man who’d been around town for the past couple of months. Spot had no idea that Snyder was a god, just like him. Hades, to be clear.

Hades begins talking to Spot about his heroism and strength and says he wants to offer him a deal. Spot initially refuses, trying to walk away only for Hades to reveal that he has leverage. With a snap of his fingers, a stunned and scared looking Race appears right in front of him. Race tries to run to him, trying to tell him not to listen to this man, but Hades waves his hand and Race goes silent, chains wrapping around his body and mouth immediately, rendering him helpless.

Hades then snaps Race to him and manhandles him, trying to enrage Spot even more. He tells Spot that if he doesn’t want to hear the deal, he’ll just take Race and keep him like that forever, claiming he likes Race in chains better than anything else. So Spot agrees to hear Hades out, all the while asking him to let Race go.

Hades grins and tells Spot to consider giving up his strength for a day, the next day, in order to save Race. Spot asks if people are going to get hurt in which Snyder simply smiles. So Spot asks that Race be left out of it. Hades gives his word that no harm will come to Race should Spot accept.

So Spot accepts, shaking the gods hand to finalize it and falling to his knees as his strength is drained from him.

For a moment, Race is left in chains as Hades has his fun knocking around the mighty Hercules. But Spot croaks out that he has to let the boy go, to which the god laughs. He complies, saying to Race that a deal was a deal and that he was now free of his sentence before he draws Race to him and gloats to Spot about what a wonderful little actor the boy was.

Race struggles against him, trying to get away and explain, but Spot just walks away, heartbroken.

Though his strength is gone, Spot still feels obligated to fight against whatever attack was headed for them. He goes on his own to the center of the city where the titans have begun to roam free after Hades released them. Though the crowd cheers at his arrival it is quickly made apparent that he is no match for these monsters and he will not win this fight.

After trying and failing to stop Spot from fighting, Race rushes off to find Pegasus. His legs are already shaking in fear just looking at the thing that had been bound by Hades before. He releases it and Pegasus senses that something is wrong, so he allows Race to climb onto his back. Race screams when they take to the air.

Finding Jack wandering around, oblivious to the takeover happening behind him, Race begs him for help. Jack initially refuses, revealing to the boy that he knew who Race worked for. Race quickly explains the situation to Jack and Jack takes the reins, flying out to find a passed out Spot in the middle of the chaos. He ignores the burning of his arms and scoops Spot up, flying him to safety so Race can plead with him to wake up.

When Spot does eventually wake up, he scrambles away from Race only for Jack to tell him that this wasn’t Race's fault and he still needed to fight. They couldn’t let Hades win. So Spot goes out to fight again only to get knocked down in front of a car speeding to get away. Race panics and rushes to push him out of the way, taking the hit instead nearly getting stomped on by the titan Before Spot screams and rushes to his rescue, catching the Titan’s foot before it can kill Race.

Jack rushes in to get Race out of the danger and Race lets him, curling into him in pain.

Not understanding what happened, Spot rushes to the boy he quite possibly loves who explains to him that Hades promised he wouldn’t get hurt and he had. The deal had been broken.

Hesitant to leave Race, Spot looks to Jack for help. Jack promises to stay with Race while Spot rushes off and fights.

That’s when Race starts crying. It’s the first time he shows weakness in front of Jack and Jack can’t help but cry along with him, trying to promise him that everything’s gonna be okay even though they both know it won’t. As he starts coughing up blood, Race begs Jack not to let him die alone and Jack holds his hand and pets his hair back, promising him that he’d be right there the whole time.

Race is scared when he dies. His cries about not being able to breathe and can’t move without being in pain. It’s the most heartbreaking thing Jack had ever witnessed. When Race takes his last breath, Jack presses a kiss to his forehead and closes the boy's eyes for him, hugging him to his chest and telling him how sorry he was.

Flying up to Olympus with Pegasus, Spot frees the gods who are being held captive by the Titans and helps them trap the monsters once again before flying after Hades who tries to get away. It’s only when Spot remembers Race that he stops, rushing back down to earth where he finds Jack crying over Race’s body.

So Spot does what he has to do, even as Jack begs him to come back. He flies down to the underworld (how he knows where to go? I don’t know… but he does. Maybe he walked a long way, around the back. That ain’t easy walkin’, Jack. It ain’t for the sensitive of souls— oh wait…) and demands that Hades tell him where Race’s soul is.

Still smug and arrogant as ever, Hades reveals Race’s soul in the River Styx and tells Spot that he is more than willing to let Spot dive down for him. It’s only after Spot does so that Hades calls after him any mortal to enter the river will die.

Spot swims down for Race’s lifeless soul. It breaks his heart to see the boy so lifeless. As he reaches for him, a power surges through his body, making it easier to move and breathe. He pulls Race to him and holds him in his arms, stepping out of that river as a god with the love of his life in his arms. When Hades goes to stop him, Spot punches him down and walks out with Race’s souls, climbing onto Pegasus again and flying back to New York, where Jack still sat with an unmoving Race on the sidewalk. Everyone else was so busy with their own concerns, no one paid them a second glance.

Returning his soul to his body, Spot waits patiently and Jack watches with so much hope in his eyes it hurts. But then there’s a glorious sound of someone taking in a gulp of air.

Race opens his eyes.

He launches himself at Spot who holds him tightly in response and Jack laughs in relief at the sight, letting Race hug him too before Spot confesses he has to go. Race refuses to let him go so Spot takes him along, flying back up to Olympus where he is greeted as a god and Race is left standing awkwardly all alone at the gates, proud of the other boy, but sad that he may never see him again.

But Spot kneels before his father, asking to be blessed with mortality so that he can live his life with Race and Jack. He asks that his father lift Jack’s curse and allow them to live in peace because he finally found where he belonged.

Zeus, although a bit sad, agrees, and sends Spot and Race back to Earth where they meet Jack and take him to the border of New York to show him he is no longer cursed.

Race and Spot and Jack are friends for the rest of their lives. Spot reconnects with his adoptive parents. Race and Spot get married. Jack finally meets the girl he’d fallen for and marries her.

And they all live happily ever after.

Thanks for reading!

For more Mood Boards and AUs, click here!

[mellowdaffodils]

Friends to Family

For Day Two of Ansem’s Apprentice Week!

Theme: Friends/Family

Shipping: King Ansem x Evën

@apprenticeweek

I hope you enjoy!

In Radiant Garden, a scientist worked for the king of that land. This scientist was known as Evën. He was a strict man whose mind was always on work. Evën worked for Ansem the king, he was a kind man who would rather run off and eat ice cream than work. The two men were complete opposites, but they had been friends for most of their lives.

It has been thirty years since they met. Evën was fourteen when his father, the royal scientist at the time brought him to live in the castle to be his assistant, Ansem was a twelve year old prince. Young Evën seemed to be born old, he had frown and smile lines visible on his face and was very serious. He never wanted to be around children or teens his age, only to work on his father’s research. But that never stopped the young Prince Ansem. The prince would always knock on the lab’s door and ask for Evën to play, in response the teen would say.

“No.”

And closed the door.

Ansem didn’t accept that. He went to complain to his royal guard Braig, who was sixteen. In response Braig barged into the fourteen year old’s lab, grabbed him from the back of his coat, and dragged him out to socialize with the twelve year old prince. Evën would get so angry, but when seeing Ansem’s big smile and bright orange eyes, he wasn’t so angry anymore. Evën would sigh in defeat as the boy grabbed his arm and led him to wherever he wanted. This cycle would continue for a few months before the teen eventually gave up, because there was no use in hiding or saying no, someone always found him and took him to the prince. Evën learned how to always be at Ansem’s beck and call.

Evën found it quite odd that Ansem would even want to spend time with him, but then again… the prince was an odd fellow to say the least. Prince Ansem would always want to eat seasalt icecream, drag Evën into town to watch him swim in the fountain in which the teen would always drag him out of, make pillow forts in the castle library when the teen wanted to read books, and cry at the end of every romantic movie he was forced to watch.

But… he was also the boy who recited poetry to the ill in hospitals, gave up all his royal clothing to the poor and proclaimed himself a common man, he opened his castle to house orphans to live and work, and after watching Evën study and work he became interested in science and became the teen’s close study partner. They were close friends.

Eventually that prince turned into a king, a man who did not wish to go by the title as ‘King’ but as ‘Ansem the Wise’, inspired by wise men who conjured magic in fairy tales. Ansem’s heart grew bigger and so did his curiosity in his research. Years passed and they became a family, by adding two more guards, Aeleus and Dilan, and soon a young boy named Ienzo. Evën had a soft spot for that boy, one could say that was his son and the scientist would neither confirm or deny it. Ansem the Wise felt the same, but would outright say that Ienzo was his child (Evën’s too).

Currently, Evën was doing some research before  there was a knock on his door. He ignored it as Ansem walked in, “Evën. Come with Ienzo and I for ice cream.”

The royal scientist didn’t look up from his work, “I have more important things to do.” He then waved his hand in the air to shoo the king away, “Run along and have fun.”

“Oh Evën, come along. It’ll be fun. You need to get out of this dusty old lab.”

“No thank you Ansem. Go have fun without me.”

The king was silent for a moment, “Alright Even.”

He then closed the door and left the scientist alone to work in peace.

… For about a few seconds.

Dilan and Aeleus burst into his lab, startling Evën, making him drop his clipboard.

The blond turned around in a confused anger, “What in the world are you two doing!?”

The two guards simply grabbed him by the side of his arms and dragged Evën out of his lab.

“Unhand me! How dare you!” The older man protested, trying to wiggle his arms away, “I am the royal scientist! I will not stand for this! Dilan! Aeleus!”

The guards dragged the shouting man outside of the castle gates where Ansem and little Ienzo waited patiently.

“See Ienzo?” Ansem said smiling softly to the boy, “I told you he would come. Do you have the gift?”

The little boy nodded in response as the two large men let go of the skinny scientist. Evën stumbled a bit before dusting himself off angrily, with his emerald green eyes and raised a finger at his friend, “I did not want to join! Honestly! I thought you’d outgrown this by now!”

“Nope.” Ansem said smiling mischievously.

That made Evën’s blood boil. He then turned his back to the king to storm off back to his lab, but Aeleus and Dilan clanked their weapons together to make a barricade, preventing the scientist from leaving. Evën gasped appalled at the disrespectful behavior towards a superior. He was going to say something before being distracted, feeling Ienzo’s small warm hand holding his cold one. The boy then simply tugged Evën’s arm instigating to follow him. The scientist looked at the castle where he wanted to be, then the two guards that were guarding it, then at his side to see the smiling king holding Ienzo’s other hand, and then looked back down at the small boy who was just staring back silently up at him. Even then sighed in defeat and slouched his shoulders.

“Let’s go then.”

Ienzo then smiled and nodded, as they started to walk down the stairs. Dilan and Aeleus then looked at each other and smiled. According to plan.

Ansem, Evën, and Ienzo walked in silence as they reached the town center, where the fountain was. Ienzo led the two men there and took his hands away. 

The king sat down on the fountain ledge and patted the stone next to him, “Sit next to me Evën.”

The older man sighed and sat down next to his friend as Ienzo looked over the ledge to watch the water. The area was empty, it was only the three of them and it was quiet, only the sound of water ripples from the fountain and chirping birds were heard. It was quite relaxing for Evën.

“Evën.” Ansem said, breaking the moment of silence, “We have been friends for thirty years.”

“Has it been that long?” The older man asked, “It feels like I met that pesky prince yesterday. You never left me alone, you never changed.”

Ansem chuckled and for some reason Evën’s cheeks felt hot.

“Well…” The scientist retorted, “I guess you matured just a little bit over the last thirty years… But not much mind you, only very little. Microscopic.”

Ansem chuckled again which made Evën give a rare smile in return. The older man chuckled softly.

“I like spending time with you, always have.” The king said, placing his warm hand on Evën’s cold cheek. Evën’s eyes widened and the smile went  away.

“I like seeing your smile.”

“What are you doing?” The scientist asked removing the king’s hand from his face. His cheeks turned red once again, “What’s gotten into you?”

In response the king laughed, “You never changed either.” He then glanced down at the ground, “Thirty years I’ve known you Evën. We laughed together, got mad at each other, and grieved. Our hearts have been connected and now our connection spread to more people, making us a family.”

“A heart’s connection… Strong yet mysterious.” Evën said, grabbing his chin and pondered, “A truly fascinating phenomenon it is.”

Ansem then stood up. Ienzo looked up from the water and hurried off of the ledge and walked towards his adoptive father, giving him a small fabric bag from his pocket. Evën watched confused as Ienzo then ran off.

“Ienzo!? Where in the world you think you’re going!?” Evën shouted.

“Don’t worry, he’ll be fine.” Ansem said going down on one knee.

“What are you--?”

“Evën. Thirty years have passed since I met you. Thirty years of memories I never want to forget. When I first saw you I thought, ‘I will make him my friend. We will go on adventures together and make the worlds a better place.’ My thoughts that day haven’t changed, but now I also want to make sure I can be with you forever.” Ansem then took out a silver ring with three small sapphire stones embedded into it, “Evën. Would you do me the honor of being my husband?”

Evën’s face flushed, “Don’t be ridiculous Ansem! You need a wife!”

“I have you.”

“That’s not what I meant! You need a wife for an heir!”

“We have Ienzo. He’s our son.”

“A-Ansem!”

“Tell me a reason why you don’t want to marry.”

Evën’s face turned into a sad expression, “I… I do wish to…” He looked away, “I am not good enough for you… my king. There are many better suitors for you. You wished for adventure, yet we never went on one. You wished to make the worlds a better place, we are not even close to that goal. I am not what is best for you.”

Ansem’s hand held Evën’s, making the older man look back at him. They made direct eye contact. The younger man’s face was gentle yet sad.

“I wish you could see yourself like how I see you. You stay up all night to work so you can make sure to spend all day with Ienzo. You make sure I’m eating well when you don’t eat yourself. We help the world together by helping other people. Evën… Everyday with you is an adventure. Every moment we spend time together makes me immensely happy. There is no one else I would rather be with. Just you… only you.”

Evën smiled softly and pressed his forehead against his friend. He felt so warm and his heart seemed to float in his chest. He remembered the time they first met, never in his life he thought this would ever happen.

“I love you… Ansem.” He murmured softly.

Ansem touched his face, “Is that a ‘yes’?”

“You dult… Of course it means yes.”

“FINALLY!” Someone shouted.

Evën’s eyes widened and turned his head around to see Braig standing at the top of a fountain.

“HE SAID ‘YES’!” Braig said pulling a string from a confetti popper, releasing streamers.

“What in the--!?” Evën shouted as Dilan, Aeleus, and Ienzo came from behind the fountain and released the streamers from their fireworks also.

Ansem laughed, “I may have let them in on my plan.” He then slipped the engagement ring on Vexen’s left ring finger.

Evën’s face was flushed red as Braig hopped down from the fountain and put him in a headlock, “Bout time you two get hitched! I thought you were gonna be an old maid forever!”

“Unhand me!” The scientist shouted annoyed.

Ansem chuckled shooing Braig away from his fiance and leaned towards him, “I can’t wait for this new adventure.” He then kissed Evën, before they both fell into the fountain, making the three guards laugh.

Evën sat up in the water, “I changed my mind!”

“Too late.” Ansem stated, laughing and hugged him.

Ienzo smiled and climbed into the fountain to hug the two older men.

“Ienzo no!” Evën stated, but the little boy didn’t listen to him. He then sighed in defeat wrapping his arms around the two. He couldn’t be too mad at them.

They are his family after all.

[mercysought]

@cllgood​ : ‘ That’s the way that I live. ’ / @ maxima from this is our science ( accepting )

She hears in silence, quiet with both hands over her lap. Not truly taking in the words that he had been speaking, but more trying to put the words in an order that would seem to explain her point further. 

The training of young men and women the way that the gunslingers did was inhumane; a cruel treatment that forced children to become desynthesized to violence. Then, threw them outside of the walls that they knew for all their live into a world that would eat them whole and told them: don’t come back if you are not good enough, do not bring shame to your name. Drop dead and that will bring you more honour than to continue living in any other capacity. Green eyes lift to Cuthbert, watching him for a good second, pondering. Is it truly safe to tell him, to initiate this sort of dialogue with him.

She didn’t with anyone else. Personal points of view were bad for business, but so were personable relationships that one might use to pull strings against.

   “Hear me out.” his mouth starts to open and her hand raises. Maxima leans in closer, her leg touching his from beneath the stark white fabric. Her hands cupping his right. Her rings clash against his and neither notice “And wait to get angry or attempt a counterpoint until after I am finished.” 

There was so much brewing unhappiness and it was palpable. Maxima had always known the taste of misery, long before she knew the taste of anything else, and it was starting to seep into everything in those halls. She doesn’t say it, because it would be so stupid that she was certain she would never be able to make a come back from putting words such as those into existence, not in this plain manner that she wished she could. His eyes are on hers as her hands cover his right. 

He was no more a fool than she was a troublemaker of a woman. Both were true, but it was hardly about being a devil or a saint. 

   “Your father is a great man,” she starts and it is already a slippery slope. There is likely none that she likes more in these walls than Louise Allgood and therefore her husband too. When she was a girl she used to close her eyes and imagine what it might be to be another daughter of their, to be kept so close to one’s chest that you might hear their heartbeats. Robert Allgood was a good man, a great one even; all of them were. But to deny the darkness that you could see, a darkness that grows from within them and from outside. To deny how the ground rattles from their steps instead of the music that plays.

To forget the glances of the women that remain within these halls and to deny their pain. Maxima had been called many things; cruel, a manipulative snake that was waiting just to have her head cut off, a coward to hide behind whispers. But they were there, they existed and to deny them was to add more fuel to an already growing forest fire. Her hand squeezes his, green eyes on his “but you are doing yourself a disservice to use him as the only measure of worth.“

The gunslingers whose irons pass to their sons and daughters and with each generation the number of enemies seems to grow faster than the weeds in their gardens. Perhaps this was just another turn of the wheel, another cycle to be expected. Maxima didn’t believe it, and perhaps this was her lifting all of the carpets and filling the air with dust for no good reason at all. But she saw through it, through the dust. There was no dust in the horizon, the rattling of the dust, of hooves over desert floors, the sound of guns. It was inside of their own home, this home.

She didn’t say more, she felt that half a word would be understood. To clear the air and say something that, she was sure, Cuthbert always knew. Deep down somewhere. Maxima would refuse any comparisons done to her when put against any other, why should she not see it wrong when done for others. Why should she not see something built on top of the praises of their father and blood lines as something inherently corruptible? And how could anyone ask her not to be afraid?

   “I am telling you this,“ she whispers, squeezing his hands further, knowing that this was likely the last time that she might talk to him. She would chose to lose the last person that she had felt was like family if it meant that maybe he could protect himself, protect his sisters in some way with the knowledge.

The way that he lived was the same way that all gunslingers did. Perhaps with more joy, more liveliness in his bones not the heaviness of the irons keeping him down. ‘Has forgotten the face of his father’. Cuthbert Allgood was better than Robert, better than Louise and she said this even as she held a love bigger than she ever had for her own blood. It was a disservice because it meant that he would never be able to grow out of his shadow. If she knew anyone that refused to live within the lines drawn for him, to keep painting within them, that was Cuthbert. And she didn’t want him to lose that “because I love you, my dear friend.”

Misery had started growing in their gardens, but if she could avoid anyone from eating from their fruits; from having their hands torn while trying to take care of those weeds, that would be Cuthbert and his family.

[ted-and-bill]

Let It Snow, Dude

Here’s my Secret Santa gift for @senator-mothman! I hope you like it! :)

Ted had often hoped that one morning in late December, he would wake up to see a fresh blanket of powdery snow on the ground.

Unfortunately for him, temperatures hadn’t dropped below freezing for long enough to make his wish come true in a long time.

He supposed California wasn’t going to switch climates with Vermont any time soon, so all he could do was dream.

After a fight with his dad, Ted goes to Bill's house for some cheering up.

Read on AO3 or below the cut.

It was winter break, and Ted was ready. After a grueling four months of school, he finally had ample time to sit around all day watching MTV, hanging out with Bill, and practicing his most mediocre guitar riffs. His history homework was over for the time being, and Ted was going to make the most of it.

Winter break in San Dimas, unlike other places, didn’t have the same seasonal connotations that one would expect of the holidays. His hometown wasn’t exactly the ideal winter wonderland. For as long as Ted had known, it had never once snowed there. He supposed that the lack of freezing temperatures could be a good thing, but at the same time, snow could be worth the gnarly cold.

He’d often hoped that one morning in late December, he would wake up to see a fresh blanket of powdery snow on the ground, just waiting to be made into a snowman or packed down to make an ultra fast sledding course right there in his front yard. Unfortunately for Ted, temperatures hadn’t dropped below freezing for long enough to make his wish come true in a long time. He supposed California wasn’t going to switch climates with Vermont any time soon, so all he could do was dream.

Today, ‘making the most’ of his break meant sitting on the couch in his living room, watching some old action movie he had never heard of. It was a Saturday afternoon, and Deacon was out at a friend’s, so Ted had the house to himself. Well, himself, and his dad, who was busy finishing up some paperwork in his room. Close enough to all alone, he thought. It was in the middle of a black-and-white car chase that the telephone rang. Ted rolled off the couch, and rushed over to pick up before it went to the answering machine. He slid across the kitchen, and answered just before the last ring.

“This is the Logan residence,” He said. He had to be formal, just in case it was one of his dad’s heinous coworkers who wouldn’t hesitate to shout at him for a single usage of ‘dude’.

“How’s it hanging, dude?” Bill’s voice said.

Ted’s mood was immediately improved. “Hey dude! I haven’t talked to you in a most egregiously long period of time.”

“Ted, we talked for like four hours last night.” Bill said.

He was right. “Still, my friend, that was ages ago.”

“Most accurate. Anyways, Missy and my dad are gone today, so the whole house is free for us to rock as loud as we want.”

“Excellent! I’ll come over right away.” He hung up quickly, eager to leave as soon as possible.

Ted was halfway out the door when a voice sounded from behind him. “Where do you think you’re going, son?” Captain Logan said.

Ted turned to face him. “Just to Bill’s house. We have to practice in order for Wyld Stallyns to become world-renowned, you know.”

Captain Logan pinched the bridge of his nose, grumbling with annoyance. “How many times have I told you that your band nonsense has to stop? If you really want to be successful, go out and get a real job like a normal person.”

“But dad, dude-”

“And stop with the ‘dude’!” He was getting really angry now. “Did I raise you to talk like some, some delinquent?”

“Delinquent?” What did that mean, again? Something bogus, Ted assumed.

“It’s that Preston boy, isn’t it? He’s a bad influence on you, Theodore. I know all of this,” He gestured generally to Ted. “Isn’t my fault, so it must be him who is making you so abnormal.”

Abnormal? “What are you saying, dad?”

“I’m saying that you need to stop being so childish, and grow up already. Leave your band and friend behind, and start acting mature for once in your life.”

Leave Bill? He would never. “Bill is my best friend! I can’t ‘leave him behind’!”

Captain Logan’s temper was worsening. His face was cherry red, and he looked like he was about to explode. “Yes, you can Ted! And you will! It’s not normal for two young men to be close like you are. People are going to start thinking bad things about you unless you straighten out. Do you understand me? Or are you too stupid to get that one thing drilled in your head?”

Ted had had it. He could handle being called weird, being called stupid, and even being called a failure, but saying any of that about Bill was a step too far. “You’re bogus, dad! All you want is for me to be exactly like you! You know what? I’d rather be a failure with Bill than a success with you and your heinous ideas about what’s allowed and not allowed!” And with that, Ted turned and slammed the front door right in his dad’s face. He ran off before his dad could shout at him to come back.

Ted’s face was hot with rage as he ran all the way to Bill’s house, not caring that he was out of breath by the time he rang the doorbell to the suburban home.

The door swung open only seconds later, and he was greeted by Bill’s smiling face. “Hey dude! What’s-” He paused, staring at his friend’s face. “Ted, you look most troubled.”

Ted shrugged. “It’s my dad. He was saying some heinous stuff about me being a delicatessen, or something like that.” He walked into the house, closing the door behind him. “He was talking about how I should grow up and stop hanging out with you.”

Bill shook his head. “What a dickweed! Don’t let him get to you, dude. He just doesn’t realize how excellent you are.”

Ted smiled. “Thanks, Bill.” They went into the kitchen, where Missy’s expensive cooking appliances were littering the counters. “Still, it just bothers me, I guess. He doesn’t have these problems with Deacon…”

“Ted, it’s not your fault that your dad is so non-triumphant. He’s old. That’s what old people do. Criticize the youth to perpetuate a cycle of generational divide.” Bill said.

“Woah,” Ted said. “That’s deep, dude.”

“Nah, I just read it somewhere.”

Ted sat down at the table and began to run his fingers through his hair. “I dunno, dude. It’s just like… I feel like even if we become huge rockstars, he’ll never respect me, y’know?”

Bill nodded. “I get it.” He put a hand on Ted’s shoulder.

Ted looked up to see Bill’s soft features, and a comforting expression that said ‘everything is gonna be fine, dude’. Their eyes remained locked on each other for a moment too long, and Ted felt his cheeks heating up. He looked down quickly, hoping that Bill hadn’t seen him blushing.

Bill stepped away, and moved to open a cabinet above the messy counters. “I know what’ll cheer you up, dude!” He pulled a can of cocoa powder out of the cabinet. “Hot chocolate!” He set it down, and grabbed two cups. “Remember when we used to have contests to see who could drink the most?”

Ted remembered their feats of strength from when they were no more than nine or ten. “Yeah. Those usually ended with both of us hurling.”

“True, my most esteemed colleague, but this time, we will regulate ourselves.” He filled the kettle and set it on the stove. In just a few minutes, the water was boiling, and Bill mixed the powder, water, and milk in the mugs, before setting them down on the table. “Bone apple tea,”

“Thanks, dude.” Ted said, picking up the cup and taking a sip. It was, well, hot chocolaty. “Most flavorsome, my friend.” He said, quickly chugging the rest of the drink.

“Dude! You’re supposed to savor it.” Ted looked to see that Bill had barely even sipped his cocoa.

“Sorry,” Ted smiled apologetically. “I guess my old habits got the best of me.”

Bill shook his head, but Ted could see the hint of a smile on his lips. “Now I’m going to drink mine as slow as I possibly can to make you pay.”

“Bill,” Ted groaned, “Why must you torture me like this?”

After an agonizing ten minutes of Bill drinking his cocoa sip by sip, the cup was finally empty. “Do you see the errors of your ways now?”

“Sure, sure,” Ted said, grabbing the cup and putting in in the sink. He’d wasted enough time already. Now, it was time to get rocking. “C’mon, dude!” Barely realizing what he was doing, Ted grabbed Bill’s hand, and dragged him out of the kitchen and to the side door to the garage.

Okay. This was new. He was holding his best friend’s hand. It was casual, and Bill had hardly noticed. Ted couldn’t let go of his hand, or it would seem like Ted knew it was weird, which would make it even stranger that he had held it in the first place. But every second he held onto it, it made his heart beat faster and faster. He hoped that Bill wasn’t freaked out by the sudden, unexpected hand-holding.

“Ted?” Bill was looking at him, confusion in his blue-green eyes. “You okay, dude?”

Ted snapped out of his jumbled thoughts, and realized that they were already in the garage, standing there, holding hands. “Yeah, I, uh-” He quickly let go of Bill’s hand, shoving his hands in his pockets instead. “Sorry. I was just spacing out.”

Bill frowned. “Okay…” Thank god, Bill hadn’t totally freaked out at what had just happened.

Ted was reaching to pick up his (well, Bill’s) Fender when-

“Ted!” Bill yelled. “It’s snowing!”

“What?” Ted turned to see that, sure enough, through the small glass panes on the garage door, there were tiny white dots floating down against a light gray sky. “No way!”

“Yes way, Ted!” Bill slid the garage door open, and they two boys rushed out to see the snowflakes falling around them. It was light, and the snow seemed to be melting as soon as they touched the ground.

The two of them stayed staring at the sky as the snow continued. Ted stuck out his tongue, struggling to catch a snowflake on it. After a moment of trying, he managed to get one. “Dude! These just taste like water!” He said, turning to Bill.

“What did you think? They’re made of water.” Bill smiled at his friend.

“I dunno.” Ted caught another one. “I kind of thought they’d taste like peppermint.”

The wind picked up, and Ted shivered. No wonder it was snowing. This was the coldest that San Dimas had ever been.

“Woah, it’s freezing.” He said, rubbing his hands together to generate warmth.

“Give me your hands,” Bill said, reaching out to Ted.

Ted chucked awkwardly. “Uh, what?”

“It’ll keep us both warm. Like how penguins huddle and stuff.” 

That makes sense enough, Ted reasoned. He held out his hands, and Bill took them. It was nice. Warm. He liked it. The wind stirred up dead leaves around their feet as the snow dampened Ted’s hair. It wasn’t a winter wonderland, but it was close enough.

Bill shifted a bit, and moved his hand so that their fingers were intertwined. But Ted didn’t question it. Even though this was new, it already felt normal, like the two friends had been doing it for years.

Still, Ted couldn’t get his mind off of Bill as they stood in the falling snow. Bill’s cheeks were rosy, flushed from the cold temperatures, and his eyes were bright, fixed on the sky above. Ted couldn’t help notice the way that a few stray snowflakes lay on his blonde curls and the way that his soft pink lips were parted just enough to see his almost perfectly white teeth. Ted wondered if Bill’s lips needed warming up, too.

Bill looked over to him, catching him as he stared. “What is it, dude?”

Ted glanced down, face flushed as he averted Bill’s gaze. He really shouldn’t have been staring like that. “Nothing.” He said, shaking his head.

“Dude,” Ted looked back to see that Bill was looking him right in the eye. Bill’s eyes moved down, trailing until he was looking at Ted’s lips.

Ted could feel his cheeks heat up as his friend let go of his right hand. God, he had just majorly screwed up! He was about to apologize to Bill when he felt a warm hand move to his cheek. Ted looked to see that Bill was reaching up to cup his face as his other hand moved to Ted’s back. Ted kept his eyes locked on Bill as the boy closed his eyes and leaned in.

His eyes fluttered closed as Bill’s lips met his, warmth spreading from his head to his toes. Ted moved his hands from his sides to rest on Bill’s waist as he held his friend closer to him. He could feel the snowflakes melt on his skin as they stood there, taking in the feeling of each other together like that, while the wind ruffled Ted’s hair.

After a moment, they both were out of breath. Ted opened his eyes as he broke the kiss. He looked into Bill’s eyes, which were wide in amazement, as they both broke out into laughter.

“Woah,” Was all Ted could manage as he broke out into a goofy grin.

Bill nodded, smiling just as wide as him. “Yeah, woah.”

Ted felt his heart swell as Bill leaned in again, this time much quicker, and held Ted’s face in his hands. When they broke apart again, it had stopped snowing. Ted couldn’t care less. Because in that moment, he only had one thing on his mind. Bill.

That day, in late December, in a town called San Dimas, something miraculous happened. Most people considered the miraculous thing to be a small snow flurry, the first in years, that had lasted only minutes.

But for two Californian valley boys named Ted ‘Theodore’ Logan and Bill S. Preston, Esquire, the real wonder wasn’t the snowfall, but what had happened during that snowfall.

What had happened wasn’t just miraculous.

It was, as the two of them would say, excellent.

[sweetsmellosuccess]

TIFF 2020: Days 5 & 6

Films: 5

Best Film of the Day(s): New Order

Good Joe Bell: Or, The Education of a Straight White Father. What Reinaldo Marcus Green’s film lacks in depth, it tries hard to make up for with earnestness. Mark Wahlberg plays the real-life father, who was in the process of walking across America in honor of his gay son, who committed suicide after being badly bullied in his smalltown Oregon high school, before he was accidentally hit on the road and killed in Colorado, six months into his planned two-year sojourn. The story is cut up between the present, with Joe on the road, doing terse speaking engagements (as Wahlberg plays him, the taciturn Bell isn’t much for public speaking), at local high schools and churches, and flashbacks to the past, as his son, Jadin (Reid Miller), attempts to get through his high school experience while being the subject of bullying, both in-person and via the Internet, until he reaches his breaking point. The message is certainly resonant, and Miller plays Jadin with the right amount of heartbreaking pathos, but Green’s film feels unnecessarily mechanized in order to put Joe front and center of the story (using a hallucination of Jadin at the beginning, which allows Joe to interact with him feels more than a little manipulative). Bell, with his quick temper, and impatience for anything that’s not directly to do with him, is a reasonable stand-in for exactly the type of straight white male who should be watching the film (but more than likely won’t). Wahlberg is gifted at playing this sort of character, who wants to have the full attention of everyone any point in time he chooses (“Did you hear what I said?” he asks incredulously after making an announcement and not receiving the proper praise for it). He’s a complicated dude, which the film alludes to without entirely capturing: He’s ready to fight at a moment’s notice, but shies away from directly confronting any of Jadin’s tormentors; has the good intention to take action to draw attention to the problem, but doesn't seem the least bit prepared to give a speech that really makes an impact (one detail the film does make work: His manner of saying “I love you” to his wife or sons, but only as a way of getting them to say it back to him). Connie Britton plays Lola, Jadin’s mother, a largely thankless role as the nurturer of the family, loving both her sons (Jadin’s brother Joseph is played by Maxwell Jenkins), and staying supportive no matter their father’s attitude. Near the end of his journey, as Joe begins to see the true folly of his ways, he meets a Sheriff (Gary Sinise), whose oldest son is also gay, which allows the two men to sit on the front porch of the sheriff’s house and contemplate the ways in which their lives didn’t go as expected. It’s clearly meant for the kick-ass Wahlberg audience (as Jadin says earlier in the film, they’re the actual problem), but I very much doubt they will be heading in droves to see it.

New Order: Meet the new boss, only in Michel Franco’s damning portrait of a society locked forever in cycles of oppression, revolution, and new oppression, it makes no difference who you are, what your belief system is, or whether or not you subscribe to a moral set of ethics. After an ominous opening montage of imagery largely taken from the film to come, we shortly begin at a resplendent wedding held at the city manse of a wealthy businessman for his daughter, Marianne (Naian Gonzalez Norvind), and her betrothed, Alan (Dario Yazbek Bernal). As Marianne’s mother, Pilar (Patricia Bernal) happily secrets away the envelopes carrying the new couples’ gift money in her safe, and rich and powerful families co-mingle, the distant danger of a furious revolution, lead by violent rioters raising up against the economic disparities of the city, seems at first to be light-years away. Until it isn’t. As rioters infiltrate the house, with the help of an insider, chaos reigns and bullets fly. The next morning, many people have been shot, the house has been utterly pillaged, and Marianne has been taken hostage by a rogue group of military, who snatch up wealthy-seeming refugees and hold them for ransom at an undisclosed outpost. By film’s end, Franco, working from his own screenplay, leaves no man, woman, or child unmarked. The wealthy are callous and vain, the rioters bloodthirsty and cruel, the hostage takers unbelievably greedy and horrible, and the righteous vanquished by further corruption at even higher levels of power. It’s a bit like the ending of a Coen brothers picture (Burn After Reading comes to mind), in which all loose ends are closed, and few, if any, people are any the wiser for it; only, there’s nothing the least bit arch in Franco’s thrown gauntlet: We aren’t spared the worst of it by indelible Coens’ proxies. We are all to blame, it would seem, and it has nothing to do with original sin: Our conniving, violent nature will undo any and all attempts to curb it. Insatiable avarice is our continual undoing, washing over us like the green paint the rioters hurl at passing cars and pedestrians, marking them as the enemy. In Franco’s thunderous film, nobody emerges unscathed; we’re all set on fire.

Wildfire: It’s a hoary Hollywood staple to substitute individuals as emotional stand-ins to capture the direness of historic catastrophic events, scaling everything down so we care more about the couple in star-crossed love than the war going on all around them. In Cathy Brady’s Irish drama, however, a pair of sisters are reunited after a year’s absence in the North Ireland bordertown in which they grew up, products of the uneasy peace, post-Troubles, in which everyone is meant to get along as one country, though hard feelings still abound. Kelly (Nika McGuigan) returns to the staid home of her sister, Lauren (Nora-Jane Noone), after taking off on her own the year before, and, by all appearances, living as a vagabond. Initially thrilled to have her sister back, Lauren is also still angry with her for taking off suddenly and not making any contact since. When the girls were little, their father was killed in a political bombing, and their mother might have committed suicide as a result (the car accident that killed her was, apparently, suspicious). Left to their own devices, then, they developed a fierce protective shell against any outsiders, including, it turns out Lauren’s increasingly concerned husband (Martin McCann), and longtime family friend Veronica (Joanne Crawford). The film changes gears when Lauren finally accepts Kelly again, and the two reform their partnership as intense as it was before. As the film points out, in a real sense, they are all each other truly have in the aftermath of their tragic childhood. The film clicks better into focus as well in its final act, when the sisters are reunited against all comers, and the world around them is better revealed for what it is: They represent the schism still very much a part of their community that no one else wants to see. Instead, people hang about in bars, or at work, nursing the bitternesses and hurts of the Troubles in private, and putting their public energy to getting along. Kelly, with her wildnesses and significant impulse control issues (trying to teach a young boy how to hold his breath underwater is, perhaps, not best accomplished by holding him down until he begins to panic), is at least honest with her feelings, open to her various wounds, and refusing to put the past behind them. Their mother gets referred to as “crazy” in the town’s estimation, but it’s more likely she, like her two daughters, represents the clear-eyed view of someone who refuses to live in denial.

Concrete Cowboy: Philadelphia as an open prairie has a nice vibe, and Ricky Staub’s film about a troubled teen who mother takes him from Detroit to where his father, an urban cowboy, lives in North Philly in hopes to setting the kid straight, is made with genuine care and gets solid performances from its mixture of professional and amateur actors. If this sounds like faintly damning praise, it’s only because despite its strengths, it still feels like a great set-up in search of a suitable story. Based on the real-life Fletcher Street stables (and the novel from Greg Neri), in which locals on the rough streets of the city shelter and take care of a group of horses for the sheer love of riding, the story follows the difficult maturation of Cole (Caleb McLaughlin), a decent enough kid, but searching for his place in the world, and the tough-love tactics of his dad, Harp (Idris Elba), a longtime cowboy, who hasn’t been in his son’s life in more than a decade. Cole starts out hating everything about his new situation, from Harp’s barebones lifestyle (not only are the cupboards empty, and the fridge filled with nothing but Coke and Bud Light, Harp keeps one of his horses in the living room, sharing it with his son), to being forced to muck the stalls out at the stables to earn his chance to ride, takes up with an old friend, Smush (Jharrel Jerome), a charismatic kid caught up in the drug life. Naturally, Cole’s choice comes down to which sort of life he wants to have, his father’s hardscrabble but honest approach (made more attractive when Cole develops a bond with his own horse, Boo), or Smush’s push for increased market share and more money to buy his own piece of land out West. Shot on location in North Philly, and around the city  —  one shot, in which Cole sits astride boo in full silhouette against a mottled purple sky, the lampposts standing in for saguaros, hits just the right note -- Staub’s film has a properly gritty texture, and the use of some of the real Fletcher cowboys adds further verisimilitude, but the story moves predictably enough, beat-by-beat, that it doesn’t hit with the potency it might have been capable of with a less predictable narrative arc.  

In a year of bizarre happenings, and altered realities, TIFF has shifted its gears to a significantly paired down virtual festival. Thus, U.S. film critics are regulated to watching the international offerings from our own living room couches.

[nadziejastar]

Someone on tumblr( I forgot who) pointed out how Saix’s (Isa’s?) weapon is possibly what causes his berserk state. The berserker nobodies are limp as they are dragged by their weapons and their journal text seems to imply the weapon controls them. You are dragged around by the claymore when you use it in his KHII boss fight. Also, in KHIII, Saix just stays in place holding his head if you knock him out of berserk mode. Thoughts on this?

No. VII - ‘Demoniac Dancing in the Moon’

Kingdom Hearts II

A berserker. A high-ranking Nobody. Its attacks are hard to read as it is dragged around by a cursed hammer.

Attacks from the front will only be parried by its hammer. Knock it down to make it let go of the hammer. Then pick up the hammer to unleash a flurry of attacks with Berserk.

This is a great subject. It is ridiculous enough that Saïx kept all his free will as a vessel. But especially as a vessel in his berserk state! I mean, come on. That makes no sense at all. His berserk state is heavily inspired by Norse mythology and there’s kind of a lot to say about this subject. Since his berserk state is such an important aspect of his character, I’m sure there was a lot of thought put into it from a story perspective. I think that being a berserker is what inspired his name and abilities, even back in KH2 before they had a full backstory thought up for him. The Berserker Nobodies carry a cursed hammer, which was inspired by Mjolnir (“Smasher” or “Crusher”), the hammer of Thor.

Enemy File

The Organization’s No. VII. Usually cool and calm, he turns into a berserker when he grips his giant blade in combat.

Dodge his attacks as you watch for a rare opening. After taking damage, he will revert to his normal self, making him more susceptible to attack. Finish him quickly.

I would say that Saïx’s Claymore is cursed as well, and inspired by the Norse ice rune “Isa”. It’s the rune of stagnation and constriction. It governs self-control and the ego. But if it’s cursed (it has a Recusant’s Sigil on it), I’d say it constricts self-control and self-awareness in the wielder. The one he wields in the final battle might do something to trigger a trance, keeping Saïx stuck in a specific memory of the past to continually stay in his berserk state. There most likely was a story connection with his Claymore, but it obviously is never going to see the light of day. But I have a theory of what the story might have been.

Saïx’s weapons named “New Moon” (No Gear), “Werewolf” (Skill Gear), and “Berserk” (Brave Gear) all have the same shape, and are all a reference to his berserk state. I think it’s meaningful that Xemnas, Vexen, and Axel all have weapons of the same shape in those three specific weapon categories, too. I think it means that their stories were connected to Saïx’s berserk state.

The Fool: innocence, new beginnings, free spirit, spontaneity

Ace of Swords: new ideas, breakthrough, clarity, sharp mind, mental clarity, success

No Gear is the first weapon type you start out with. It’s represented by “The Fool” in Luxord’s deck, the very first Major Arcana. It’s shaped like the Minor Arcana the Ace of Swords. I think it represents the characters’ past.

Ansem’s Report 2

It is my duty to expose what this darkness really is. I shall conduct the following experiments:

Extract the darkness from a person’s heart.

Cultivate darkness in a pure heart.

Both suppress and amplify the darkness within.

The experiments caused the test subject’s heart to collapse, including those of the most stalwart. How fragile our hearts are! My treatment produced no signs of recovery. I confined those who had completely lost their hearts beneath the castle.

Xemnas’ weapon is called “Merciless”, and I think it refers to his actions during the experiments. Vexen’s is “Tester Zero” and I think it refers to the fact that none of the initial subjects survived to become successful vessels. Saïx’s wepon is called “New Moon”, which is the first phase of the lunar cycle, where the moon is invisible and covered in darkness. It’s the phase immediately after the waning crescent phase, the shape on Isa’s jacket. Axel’s is called “Ashes”, which is the state of the Phoenix after its self-immolation. I think these names were referring to them becoming the new test subjects. I think Saïx’s Berserk State was the key to him getting possessed by Xehanort in the first place, and I’ll explain why.

Odin- A shape-shifter, he makes men mad or possessed with a blind raging fury. He produces the battle panic called “battle-fetter”. Three different frenzies or madness are his gifts to humankind: the warrior in battle, the seer in trance, and the poet in creativity. Subtle, wily, mysterious and dangerous, he often ignores pacts made in honor with humans. Odin married Erda/Jörd, with whom he had a son, Thor.

Berserkers in Norse mythology, were feared warriors who purportedly fought in a trance-like fury. They were described as “Odin’s men” and were often described as fighting together in bands of twelve or thirteen. In battle, they were seized with an uncontrollable madness for bloodshed. The berserker would use various physical techniques to get himself into an adrenaline high, and would then apply further techniques of religious ritual to become possessed by a spirit such as a wolf, a bear, or even Odin himself.

Xehanort: I swore I would survive...and be there to see what awaited beyond the Keyblade War! And now it is your darkness that shall be the ark that sustains me!

This is what I think the apprentices were trying to do with the subjects of the experiments. They wanted them to be filled with so much hate and rage (darkness) that they would be in a state where Xehanort could easily possess them, like Odin would possess a berserker. This is basically what Xehanort did to Terra. All of the subjects’ hearts collapsed, though, so it didn’t work. I think this is what they were originally trying to doing with Isa, but something else happened.

Saïx: Do you know what happens to those who lose their true purpose? Inevitably, they destroy themselves.

There are basic techniques to enter a berserker trance. First, meditation and prayers are uttered to Odin, as the object of contemplation. Odin is said to bring about the trance. He is said to gift the berserker “önd”. It is generally translated as something along the lines of “divine inspiration” or “inspired mental activity.” Ecstasy and states of heightened awareness and passion were divine gifts associated with önd. It is essentially a power that is so utterly compelling, it overwhelms and connects one’s being to its core. It’s the type of power that can move someone to write the most beautiful poetry, or fuel the fury of the warrior in the heat of battle. It’s similar to the way Xehanort views the power of darkness.

This concept is very important to Saïx’s Berserk State. I’m sure that Xehanort planned to serve as the figure of Odin for Isa during the experiments, like he did with Terra. Xehanort was Terra’s önd. He was angry and single-mindedly focused on him at the moment of his possession. And Xehanort did successfully possess Isa, too. But if anything, I think Lea was actually Isa’s önd. The keychain of Lea’s Keyblade even bears Odin’s Cross, another sun symbol. And Axel’s Pandora Gear, “Prominence”, is shaped like both Odin’s Cross, and the swastika. Both are sun symbols in Norse mythology. Prominence itself refers to red plasma extending from the Sun’s surface. Saïx’s Pandora Gear is “Crocea Mors”, Latin for “Yellow Death”, and is shaped like his Claymore. I think these weapons were a reference to the final battle.

Key Concepts: gifts, giving, taking, trade, sacrifice, process of exchange, balance, compensation, equilibrium, law of reciprocation, altruism, the gravity of equals and opposites, generosity, hospitality, honor

Psi: gratitude, forgiveness, appreciation

Energy: Exchanged powers, sacrifice, dissolution of barriers through gifting

I even think they tried to make Crocea Mors look X-shaped like the Gebo rune. It also fits too perfectly with the Recusant’s Sigil. The Gebo rune is called the rune of love and forgiveness. Gebo symbolizes the meeting between two beings, whether through the exchange of love, affection, or friendship. Its name means “the giver”, and “generous”.

Xaldin: That is no ordinary rose. To him, at least, it seems to hold more value than anything else in the castle. You saw the room. It was in tatters–save one corner.

Roxas: Maybe that’s why he’s been fighting the Heartless. He wants to protect the rose?

Xaldin: Of course. Some strange power surrounds it… The Heartless are drawn to it.

Roxas: Then his fight is far from over…

In essence, the act of entering the berserker trance is simply a matter of simultaneously being in a deep meditative state and raising up an enormous amount of “wod”. One one level wod means “fury”, and it is an experience of that emotion. A large part of the process of going berserk is by working up rage. In part it means “possessed”, which of course refers to the experience most berserkers have of becoming possessed by some sort of spirit.

Hyperventilation is practiced, as this increases adrenaline as well as super-oxygenating the blood, so that there is an enormous reserve of fuel in the body ready for use. Growling is also performed, to sympathetically bring out the animal within. Acts that bring about pain are performed, such as drawing long shallow cuts upon the body. The pain brings about adrenaline. These acts would also be seen as a sacrifice to Odin, as this would continue the process of merging with him.

The objective is to build up adrenaline by moving large muscle groups, and to merge this physical process with the internal, spiritual one. This high adrenaline state creates “wod”. Dancing, leaping about, or pacing like an animal is also done. The berserker must dance with Odin, who brings the animal within out. This might be one meaning of Saïx’s Japanese title, “Demoniac Dancing in the Moon”. At some point during this process, the simple rage and adrenaline will change over into something else. Then the berserk trance is entered into. And I believe the purpose of the Beast being paralleled to Axel in Days was all playing into the backstory of Saïx and his Berserk State.

Xion: Whoa…

Roxas: So he has been fighting the Heartless. 

Xion: Apparently. If he’s taking the Heartless on himself, he must have a good reason.

Roxas: Like what?

Xion: Like…maybe he has something he wants to protect.

Roxas: Hmm…

Xion: Let’s call it a day, Roxas. Axel’s probably waiting.

Roxas: Yeah.

Once a certain critical threshold of stress is reached (and it can be any kind of stress: mental, physical, or emotional, though a mixture works best) the berserker enters the trance, which is a type of unitary state.

“Unitary state” is a term from neuroscience that describes an unusual state of physiology. The researchers who studied it described it as a stress response. It’s an evolutionary adaptation that all people have to one degree or another, though some are capable of it much more than others. When stress occurs, a person’s sympathetic nervous system is aroused. This is the half of the nervous system that is responsible for “fight or flight” matters. When the stress is extreme, that half of the nervous system is near overload. Once a certain critical threshold is reached the brain instinctively does some desperate things in an attempt to stop the overload. This does several things.

One is to increase the length of time adrenaline stays in the bloodstream. Another is to allow a greater than usual level of adrenaline to be tolerated before its debilitating side effects (loss of coordination, shakes, bad judgement) show up. The length of time the sympathetic nervous system dulls or eliminates the sensation of pain increases too, as does the level of pain that can be tolerated.

Roxas: You remember the castle’s master, Xion?

Xion: Yeah, the beast we saw.

Roxas: Well, you were right. He does have something he wants to protect. Something he cares about.

Xion: Really?

Roxas: Yeah, but Xaldin says that’s a weakness.

Xion: Why would caring about something be a weakness?

Roxas: I dunno. I didn’t get it either.

Xion: I hope Axel comes home soon.

The other thing the desperately stressed brain does is awaken the parasympathetic nervous system. This is the other half of the nervous system— the half responsible for healing, resting, relaxing, and balancing. Because these things are the opposite of the actions of the sympathetic nervous system (revving up, tensing, focusing, energizing) it is very difficult for the body to do both at once, and so usually when one is active, the other is shut down.

But in extreme circumstances, such as the stress that triggers the unitary state, the two of them find a way to be active at the same time. This allows the natural healing of the parasympathetic nervous system to have access to the great energy of the sympathetic nervous system. It enables that healing and balancing to permit the stress of an active sympathetic nervous system to be endured for much longer times, and at much greater levels, than normally possible. This state also synthesizes the functioning of all the different parts of the brain, making it function as one. Such supreme focus is never possible in a normal state.

Xehanort: You see how powerless you are to save them? Savor that rage and despair. Let it empower you!

Terra: You will pay, Xehanort! Was my Master–no, my father, Eraqus not enough for you? Leave my friends alone!

This faster mental processing is at least partially caused by elevated adrenaline levels, increased electrical energy in the nervous system, suppression of activity in the forebrain, and reliance upon the much faster processes of the hindbrain. Mind, body, and spirit functioning as one increases this processing speed by increasing the amount of physical resources being pumped into the processing parts. There are more parts of the brain than usual, powered by more parts of the body than usual, working to process each and every thought/reaction. This higher reaction speed makes the berserker more capable of mounting an effective defense to any attack as well as becoming quick enough to take advantage of small weaknesses in an opponent’s defense.

It also allows for the highly aggressive fighting style of the berserker to be safely performed. While many think that berserkers just pressed their attacks madly with no thought for defense, in reality they were taking advantage of their extraordinary reflexes to make attack and defense one. By immediately reacting to the flaws and weaknesses in the opponent’s defenses (mental, physical, and spiritual) berserkers are able to make attacks that do not allow the opponent any line of attack himself. Attack and defense are done in one motion.

Xaldin: Trust no one. Feed your anger! Only anger will keep you strong.

This creates a highly energetic, furious, aggressive attack style; one that is continuous for long stretches of time. This circumvents a weakness many other martial arts are prone to: that of waiting, reacting, and backing up. Wod amplifies strength. There is also an increase of strength, due both to the elevated adrenaline, and the increased coordination the body moves with. After all, less wasted energy means more energy available to be put into action. The increased resistance to pain may also contribute to this, as more energy can be put into action if there are fewer unpleasant consequences to it.

In the berserk trance, all the hair on the body will begin to stand on end. The pulse gets very rapid at this point as well. The muscles bulge and the body’s tissues and flesh swell from the increased blood pressure. The face flushes quite red. This is the height of the berserk state. The parasympathetic nervous system kicks in, in response to the enormous stress the body and mind are under. There is a feeling of ecstasy. There are visions strong enough to completely block out physical sight, even though the eyes are open. The berserker becomes the wolf or bear.  

Because it is the ultimate synthesis of sympathetic nervous system and parasympathetic nervous system—of right and left brains—it causes the experience of inspiration. It is the unitary state that gives rise to the eureka moment. With the force of the whole brain behind it, the fury of the berserker trance becomes a transcendental emotion. Adrenaline levels shoot through the roof, for adrenaline is the body’s primary response to either fighting or fleeing. This is why I don’t think it was a bad thing that Lea was overpowered during his final battle. Lea and Kairi were at a huge disadvantage. It’s only natural. They were supposed to be completely outmatched.

“Good. That saves us some time.” Saïx promptly hurled the Claymore at him, but Roxas deflected it easily, a fluid motion unlike anything Saïx had seen from him before.

In that instant of hesitation, Roxas charged. Saïx blocked the sweep of the Keyblade. It brought back those long-ago days when there had been some pleasure in fighting. The Claymore slammed into Roxas…

And he recalled things from long, long ago.

When the unitary state is entered with an intent in mind, then the person seems to learn something important. They can pay attention to how things felt, how things happened, to a sufficient degree to allow the state to be duplicated in the future. Emotion becomes pure. There is hatred rather than anger, joy and ecstasy rather than happiness, love is indescribably transcendant, and there is terror rather than fear. The parasympathetic nervous system tries to heal and re-balance the body. And because of the state the body is in, the parasympathetic nervous system has access to all that incredible energy. It is actually capable of healing strains, pains, etc. with remarkable speed.

The muscles relax and there is a feeling of “settling back in” a little. There is a feeling like the berserker is a riverbed through which a torrent of emotion and power rushes. Anything the berserker looks at the berserker becomes, attains a unitary state with. This increases the correctness, the rightness of the berserker’s responses and reflexes. Hand-eye coordination improves. If the berserker is sparring with an opponent there is an increased accuracy as to anticipation of the opponent’s next move. The berserker is in a strange state of “raging control”. The mind is relaxed, focused, and pure, and the pure emotions provide a fuel for rapid processing.

In the novel, when Saïx fights Roxas, he starts recalling things from long, long ago. And he also says it brought back the days when there was pleasure in fighting. I think Saïx gradually mastered the use of his berserk state over time, and was remembering how things felt in the beginning. I think this ecstatic type of unitary state is the one that Terra entered during the times he used the power of darkness, and also the type I think Saïx—as a vessel of Xehanort—had perfected the use of during combat.

Beast: Xaldin… that’s his name. He came from the darkness… He…used my anger to control me. He took all my sorrow, my sadness, my pain—and turned it all into rage. There was nothing I could do… I could no longer see the truth.

But reservoirs of wod are not limitless, and expending it in striking or moving drains the berserk, making him or her unable to call upon it again for some variable time. After the trance comes the fatigue. It is proportionate in length and intensity to the length and intensity of the trance. After all, that energy all has to come from somewhere. The muscles will be knotted in agony. The berserker will often be too weak to stand. A depression sometimes sets in, sometimes getting severe.

There is an emotionally “frayed” feeling, and a short temper. Sometimes the pain in the body is so severe it will trigger another, lighter trance just to cope with the pain. The berserker slowly “comes down” to a more normal state over time. I’m sure this is why Saïx holds his head when he loses grip of his Claymore in battle. He’s not only in severe pain, but probably not even aware of his surroundings.

“A serene and self-possessed boy who always has time for a quick quip at his best friend Lea’s expense.”

“Cool, collected, and mature beyond his age. He’s good friends with Lea.”

The unitary state is a possible reaction to great stress. A more common one is simply shutting everything down in a panic. It needs a deep meditative state, or hypnotic trance, and this state needs to be kept even when massive amounts of adrenaline and wild emotions are coursing through you. If you cannot remain in meditation during such circumstances then you cannot deliberately enter this state. I think Isa was capable of this type of extended meditation. 

“I’ll bring him back to our side. Let me—”

“That’s enough.” Saïx turned his head, giving Axel a sidelong look over his shoulder. “Traitor.”

Axel scowled darkly.

“I’m going. You know, don’t you, that you won’t stop me except by force? And even if you tried, you would fail.” 

Saïx went on his way. Memories informed him that he hated this kind of thing.

But…I don’t think Isa was someone who would enter into a berserk state very easily. I think the adjectives used to describe him were very important. He’s cool, collected, serene, and self-possessed. He’s calm, peaceful, and in control of himself and his emotions. Doesn’t sound like a person who would be prone to strong fits of rage—especially berserk rage.

Xaldin: Our work here is done, Roxas. The beast’s weakness is clear.

Roxas: It is?

Xaldin: To hold something dear is to let it hold you. His heart is captive to it. And that makes it his weakness.

Roxas: Captive…? I don’t get it.

Xaldin: Nor should you. You have no heart to love with. Let’s not linger here.

One top of that, we have Saïx’s Mystery Gear. Since it has the waning crescent moon symbol on it, this weapon is clearly supposed to represent Isa’s personality, rather than Saïx’s personality. Unlike Terra’s Keyblade which looks a lot like Aced’s bear Keyblade, Isa’s weapon has a rabbit on it. That’s the LAST animal spirit that you would want to be possessed by as a berserker. They aren’t big or strong like bears. Rabbits are soft, gentle, and timid. They get eaten by wolves (that was probably the idea, actually). To get a person like Isa into a berserk state, you would have to do something drastic. I think VERY strong feelings were evoked in Isa, but they weren’t rage or hatred.

Roxas: That still doesn’t explain what love is… Is love fighting to protect what’s most important to you? Where does its power come from?

Even berserkers with natural talent can generally only enter the berserker trance in response to some great external stress. It is difficult to attain these states of mind with no experience of them, and no experience of them is where everybody starts. Most berserkers need an initiation to gain control over entering and exiting the state at will. So, a ritual is held involving the deliberate creation of a stressful situation, with the intent to go berserk.

One day, a man came to take me from the prison. I could not see him for the darkness, save that he wore an eyepatch.

In order to have sufficient stress to really trigger this specific type of unitary state there needs to be some genuine danger. It is very difficult to handle the high levels of stress the entrance into the berserker trance requires. So I’d say for Isa to first enter this state, he was put into a very dangerous life-or-death situation. I don’t think the apprentices would have had much luck triggering a berserk state in Isa by fueling anger or hatred in him. If anything, I think they were probably frustrated at his lack of rage and hatred. I think it was only by threatening not just his life, but Lea’s life, that the berserk state was able to be triggered. Isa was not a capable or experienced fighter like Terra or Riku were. He wasn’t even physically able to defend either himself or his friend.

Xemnas: Our experiments creating Heartless were attempts to control the mind, and convince it to renounce its sense of self.

There is another type of unitary state besides the ecstatic one. This is the one that I think Isa entered into. This kind results in an experience in which there is neither sense of self nor of anything else at all, even space or time. A great darkness, like the deepest part of night, arises from within. The fire burns itself, the ego, and the world out. The brain shuts off the forebrain and certain other parts. This not only reduces the overload of the nervous system, but it has some other effects as well. The forebrain is the part of the brain that describes things, names them, compartmentalizes them, and analyzes them. In short, the part of the brain prone to “overthinking”. It also shuts off the part that distinguishes what the self is and what the rest of the world is. So, the person will literally have no sense of self.

Once this part of the brain goes offline the person in the unitary state simply perceives everything purely and directly. They react by instinct, which is the fastest sort of reaction. And because the “thinking” parts of the brain are shut off, there is less danger of taking the wrong action in response to the outside world. There is no danger of thinking wrong about something if there is no possibility of thinking about it at all. I think Isa was in such a state of fear and panic that he lost all sense of self and just went into a desperate and blind survival mode. And he was able to hold the state for a long time, most likely due to his strong desire to protect his friend. Because he had no sense of self at the time, I think he was turned into a vessel. He wasn’t consumed by darkness and hatred. He wasn’t possessed by the spirit of a bear or a wolf. He was consumed with love, and possessed by the spirit of a rabbit. Which is why his weapon has a heart traveling to the moon.

Magician: resourcefulness, power, inspired action, willpower, desire, creation, manifestation

Ten of Swords: failure, collapse, defeat, painful endings, betrayal, loss, crisis

Skill Gear is “The Magician” in Luxord’s deck and it is shaped like the Ten of Swords. I think it represents the experiments, including the “initiation ritual” for Isa’s Berserk State.

Am I alive? I awoke in a cell, alone until the researchers came with their tests and their prodding to uncover my identity. I had no answer to offer them. Four friends, and a key…that is the sum total of my memory. I could not even recall my name. I was simply called “X” there.

Saïx’s weapon is called “Werewolf”. Xemnas’ weapon is called “Sanction”. To “sanction” means to deal a penalty that acts to ensure compliance or conformity. I think this refers to Even as well as Lea and Isa. Perhaps even to Ansem. After Isa was taken from the cell by Braig, I think he was so traumatized and mentally damaged that he lost all of his memories before Ansem the Wise found him. The only thing he could remember was his friend, but not even his name.

Yukari Ishida: “Xion’s original name, “No. i”, was named after a “non-real” figure in mathematics for expressing imaginary numbers.

Vexen’s is named “Product One”. I think this refers to “Subject X” possibly being renamed “Product One” once he became the first successful vessel of the experiments. Xion was named “No.i”. It stood for “imaginary”. I have a theory that Vexen became so focused on the Replica Program because he was so traumatized by the experiments. He never wanted to see another child share Isa’s fate. But I want to do a separate post on Vexen’s arc later.

Secret Report 4: Experiments of the Heart – Notes on Subject X, Excerpt 2

Subject’s memories have not returned, and our conversations remain less than lucid. My pilot studies used a handful of subjects, but none possessed the fortitude to endure them. Ultimately, all suffered mental collapse. I knew it would be a heavy blow to lose a subject as unique as she. Upon discovering the tests I’ve been conducting, my master demanded that I cease my work immediately and destroy what research I have compiled. Worse still, he ordered the release of my remaining subjects. She is gone. Where is Subject X now? Has “wise” Master Ansem hidden her away? Whatever the case, I will not be deterred.

Axel’s is called “Doldrums”, which is a state or period of inactivity, stagnation, or depression. It’s possible that Lea actually was released along with the other remaining subjects, but he refused to leave the castle because he didn’t know where Isa was. I think Lea was very worried about him after he disappeared, but felt totally helpless, since he had no idea where he was. I would guess that this is when he developed his chronic extreme anxiety, his habit of worrying too much about his friends, and his insomnia.

Day 150: Dealing with Xion

As expected, the Duplicate is starting to show its limits. The Program showed promise, but a puppet is just a puppet: something to be toyed with until it breaks. I am utterly at a loss as to what Roxas and Axel see in that thing. How best to dispose of it merits my consideration going forward.

I think after Isa was possessed, he had memories (subconscious or not) of being called “broken”. I definitely think Saïx hates Xion because she reminds him of the way he was treated. He wrote this in his report on Day 150 ~Fear~. The day Roxas asks Axel if there’s anything he can’t bear to lose.

Death: end of cycle, beginnings, change, metamorphosis, transition, transformation

Ace of Swords: new ideas, breakthrough, sharp mind, mental clarity, success

Brave Gear is “Death” in Luxord’s deck and it is shaped like the Ace of Swords. I think it represents the final battle.

Xehanort: “X”… A most ancient letter. Some say “kye,” but the meaning is the same. Death… A letter that spells endings.

The Death card is probably the most misunderstood of all the cards in the Tarot deck. It’s generally a very positive card, ironically. It represents a time of significant transformation, change and transition. You need to transform yourself and clear away the old to bring in the new, opening the door to a broader, more satisfying experience of life. Saïx’s is called “Berserk”. Axel’s weapon is named “Blaze”. Xemnas’ weapon is called “Aggression”. Vexen’s weapon is called “Researcher”. I think Even, along with Ienzo, was probably supposed to be vital for decoding Ansem’s research data that he left in Sora’s heart.

Beast: …Belle… Get back inside… It’s too dangerous…

Belle: I’m taking you with me.

Beast: No… I have to stop…those things…

Belle: But they’re gone. You don’t have to fight any more.

Whatever the emotions are, whatever is in the mind, at the moment that mind and body make the transition into the unitary state, sets the tone and nature of the experience of the unitary state. Unitary states created by intensive religious ritual often result in a vision of or the experience of hearing the voice of the practitioner’s god. When the ritual is designed to work up furious emotions and is concentrated upon an enemy or some other danger, the berserker rage results. Unitary states created by the stress of a life and death emergency tend to give you a burst of reflexes and the skills of a professional race car driver.

The point is, the object of the berserker’s attention becomes his entire world, and everything else vanishes. But reflexes are rapid enough that the unexpected can still be expeditiously dealt with. There is a feeling of being more awake than ever before, of being AWAKE!!! Everything is as it should be, everything is in its right place. I think this is why Isa was able to stop attacking during the final battle. He entered into his berserk trance not out of anger or rage, but with a single-minded a desire to protect Lea. Xemnas misjudged him and the situation. If his Claymore really did keep him in his trance by making him relive memories of the past, then it makes sense that he’d be able to stop himself from harming Lea—the one person he was trying to protect. The one who triggered his berserker trance in the first place. His “önd”.

“And we still haven’t found out where Axel went?” said Xaldin.

Saïx scowled with displeasure at the name.

I think this is probably why Saïx reacted with such rage after Axel left. He must have known that Isa’s biggest fear was never seeing Lea again.

“Kairi!” Axel shouted again as the girl struggled against Saïx’s hold. He readied his chakrams to hurl at Saïx when a powerful shock wave hit him.

“Traitors like you deserve to lose everything,” Saïx said.

Axel grunted and collapsed to his knees in pain from the direct hit. After only one strike, he felt his consciousness fading. His vision was going black. He couldn’t even tell whether he saw Saïx disappear with Kairi into the dark portal or whether that was only his own eyes closing.

Is this how I get turned into a Dusk…?

Now that I think about it, that scene was probably written to be similar to Isa’s scene where he went to the Realm of Sleep. Personally, I think Isa witnessed Lea lose his heart.

“What are you doing here?” The Claymore materialized in Saïx’s hand. “Foul traitor—”

“No, Saïx,” said Xigbar, glaring hard at Axel.

“What have you come for?” With rage barely contained under every word, Saïx stalked toward Axel.

He was SO angry at Axel.

“What are you saying…? Vile traitor!” The great Claymore took shape at Saïx’s back.

And he constantly called him a traitor.

“…Pathetic!” The Claymore moved to block Axel’s strike, while Saïx himself didn’t even twitch.

This is a pretty overwhelming disadvantage, Axel thought. Well, I knew that before we started fighting. I can’t win against Saïx with my own strength.

Still, he refused to hesitate. He had to force this path open.

He wanted…to find hope—the hope that Sora and Riku had.

Saïx gave him a cruel grin. “You will lose everything!”

Saïx always said that Axel would “lose everything” when he tried to kill him. I definitely think it was referring to how Lea meant everything to Isa and he felt like he’d lose everything if he lost him. Either Saïx felt such rage because he knew how hard he tried to protect Lea as a human and is enraged by his betrayal (and his ability to grow a heart), or Isa’s heart was afraid of losing Lea (his true purpose) a second time, and Saïx was reacting to that fear with rage. Or a combination of the two.

[ohjaimelannister]

What are your predictions for 8x04 and the rest of the season? Plus all the major characters, like who do you think will live?

Oh god anon, Im sorry I didnt see this until now! 8x04 is kinda redundant now, and no one could have really predicted that storm of shite.

Okay so this is gonna be long I guess but here we go.

To be honest with you I only have a few prediction as to where the story’s gonna end up, I’m more concerned with the characters but :Kings Landing and the Iron Throne are destroyed by Cersei and/or Daenerys and Drogon. There is no more ‘King or Queen’ of the Seven Kingdoms, they have a council of a few (possibly elected? but probably not because this is Westeros) lords in a democracy or each kingdom goes back to being completely independent (which in the Norths case I wouldn’t actually mind) .

I’m not sure whether the White Walkers are truly gone or not? I’m not sure whether there’s gonna be something to do with them, but probably not. But basically there’s gonna be a lot of destruction and dismantling of the normal before this is all over.

I think this isn’t going to be type of “The End” situation, life will continue and maybe we’ll get some sort of epilogue about how one of the characters we’ve come to know is murdered under /mysterious/ circumstance (just like how the series began with Jon Arryns murder) or there’s another rebellion and the cycle begins all over again. There will be the inlaying message about how the wheel is never ‘broken’ because power will always be coveted and power will always be taken from those that have it. Basically they’re doomed to live this cycle over and over again. Hence the ‘bittersweet’ ending. All those that died along the way, died for nothing because the politics, backstabbing and wars will never be over.

Characters :

Lets start with The Starks, Sansa- I have nothing much for you except I just hope she lives at this point? Honestly, Id like her to rule and be Sansa of House Stark, First of her Name Wardeness of the North. She cares about her people and loves them endlessly so she’s perfect for ruling and protecting the North because of all she’s learned from figures like Tyrion, Cersei, Littlefinger etc.   I don’t really mind if she marries or not but I’d like her to at least experience a loving relationship at some point in her life after all the shit she’s suffered through, and she just deserves to be happy basically. Though saying all of this considering how they’re writing it at the moment I honestly and truly expect her to end up ruling the north completely alone without any of her family with her because that ‘subverts expectations’ and D&D are shits.

Jon - well I hope for the best again but let’s be honest we’re not going to get it. Therrs two ways this could go : 1.) He doesn’t want to rule and I honestly don’t think he will. I would like him too, he’s good in leadership positions and he’s got the ‘saving the masses’ temperament (re: Wildings and getting himself killed for it) but I’m getting real big “gonna kill my auntiegirlfriend” from him at the moment, and I think we all know by know its been implied that Dany is going to go ‘mad’ and hell do it it to stop her from continuing to destroy an already burning city and more people from dying later on when shes finished with Kings Landing. Itll sort of parallel with Jaimes story in the end, though instead of being protected by the new ruler and his family, Jon will confess to his ‘crime’ and be sent to the North to exile, and go off with Tormund via Castle Black. I don’t want to say he establishes a new Nights Watch because there’s really no need for them now? Unless the WW aren’t really gone, then hell feel like he has too and the cycle will start all over again. Either way, he’s going to end up alone pretty much. As Beric and Ser Alistair said his life will never be easy and hell end up fighting others wars forever.

2.) Basically the same thing as before ^ but instead of being exiled, Drogon will just burn him to death in the Throne Room for killing Dany.

Either way Jons not going to get a happy ending I don’t think.

Arya - Her whole arc on the show has been badly written, and in the end I just want her to be happy with her family and Gendry. BookArya just wants a ‘pack’, basically a family. She fought so long and hard to get back to where she was, and even announced it to one of the most dangerous men in the world that she was “Arya Stark of Winterfell” and that she was going home. Where has that been this season? I want her not to kill Cersei, I want her to see what impact Cersei and Dany tearing each other apart has on KL and decide that vengeance isnt the best route and go to Gendry, who she clearly loves and he clearly loves  her. The Hound might even try and convince her to seek out Gendry because there’s someone in the world that obviously loves her for who she is.  But in all honesty? I think theyll have her just leave without saying goodbye to any of her family and just disappear again to find out what’s “west of Westeros”.

Dany - Dead. I dont like saying it, because I think Emilia has done her very best with whats been given to her (and D&D have done her dirty) but Dany is going to end up being killed by Jon for going mad with power and bloodlust basically. All signs have been pointing to it for a while now and without her morale compass in Ser Jorah and experiencing the pain of the abduction and then murder of someone she loved as a sister is obviously going to send her over the edge. I dont think shes ‘evil’ as such but, shes always had a problem with her anger and temperament, which the others have been skillfully subduing for years, with them gone, watch out world. Of course I could be epically wrong and she could actually win, murder all the Lannisters and Jon in a shock twist and take the Throne for herself??

Cersei - Dead. I mean it would be the ultimate shock and plot twist if she somehow lived and killed all the others? And tbh with the writing at the moment I wouldn’t actually hate that. I think shell probably either get killed by Jaime or take the easy way out like she was going to try to do before Stannis got to her during the Battle of the Blackwater. Nothing too surprising on the horizon there I think (hope).

Jaime - I want him to live? I mean I’ve known for many years there’s a 99% chance the he will die but I still have the smallest hope.  If he has to die let it be heroic, let it be him killing Cersei to stop her from blowing up KL to get at Dany and co. Hed only die if he was wounded in the fight to get to Cersei (which is highly likely), or if he was caught by Dany and she has him executed because it looks like he betrayed them all, when in reality he was the only one who could get close to her. Im not gonna say anything about the leaks because I really hope that if he has to die its a GOOD death (and not falling from towers or jsut to be with cersei at the end or some shit) and that its his redemption arc completed and I really hope while hes killing Cersei he says “The things I do for love” and she KNOWS its not about her anymore. I will really be angry if this is a D&D screw up and they mess his entire character arc up because of this “addiction” nonsense. If he has to die let it be with Brienne by his side (because shes gone chasing after him) cradling him. “In the arms of the woman I love”

My dream for him would be that he lives, goes to Tarth, marries Brienne (after begging her forgiveness and shes punched him, ALOT) and they have warrior babies. The end.

Tyrion - I have two endings in mind for him, Dany finds out about someone is plotting behind her back and either Varys sells Tyrion out so he can keep playing his little games (or they both get found out) and he has a trial and is executed. Or if Dany dies he becomes part of this council thats going to lead Westeros.

Brienne - She lives? I cant see anything bad happening to her at this point unless she goes to KL to save Jaimes dumb ass. Either way I think shell live and end up bearing Jaimes child (whether he lives or not) because they were together for weeks and weeks, and it’ll be a plot device used to carry on the Lannister bloodline when the other three die, like Gendry was for the Baratheons. Which lets face it would cover the whole “bittersweet” ending really wouldnt it? She has to carry and bare the child of a man who loved and left her (with hopefully good reason) but shell never know that so she has to raise him/her alone on Tarth as a constant reminder.

Gendry - Well. Boys got two options (maybe three) But I dont think hell stay Lord of Storms End possibly? If its a choice between Storms End or Arya, I hope hell pick Arya. Shes never cared about him being a lord, she loved him for who he was way before he was made one. Or they just live in Storms End together and raise children. (They have to give us something right????) And the third option - Ive always had this really weird foreboding feeling he’d end up married to Sansa, Arya said no and made it clear she doesn’t want to marry, and if she leaves then…….the whole “i have a son, you have a daughter” thing still becomes a reality.

Pod - Well, I hope he lives, gets made a knight and helps Ser Brienne on Tarth basically. Hes too pure to be ruined (though D&D will probs give it a shot)

Davos - Might live? Im not so sure, if he does hell be helping out the new ruler/rulers in some way?? Or hell just be down in FleaBottom adopting random kids left and right.

The Hound - Will probably die in Cleganebowl and Arya will actually give the gift of Mercy this time, but not before he bestows his dad wisdom on her about Gendry/Life. And if he does by some miracle live hell probably go somewhere, build a house and live there in solitude for the rest of his days.

Bronn - Well I had a joke that this shit (i loved the character early on but this season has just been no) would avoid all the major battles somehow, live on over all our faves and get his damned castle……..Im probably not wrong about this one….

Sam and Gilly - Their goodbye already seemed pretty final? I hope we see more of them because just leaving them at Winterfell seems a bit open ended and weird considering Sam was like, part of the most MAJOR plot on the show? Maybe hell put on this council or be Lord of Horn Hill with Gilly as his wife, which would a great middle finger to his horrible father.

[unassumingoddess]

How “This Is Us” Continues to Break Societal Expectations (Season 3 spoilers)

NBC’s breakthrough hit This Is Us, follows the story of the Pearson family. Rebecca and Jack were supposed to have triplets, but one of them died in childbirth; fortunately, they were able to adopt their black son, Randall. Throughout the show’s three seasons, we see the Pearson family—past, present, and future—go through the struggles of life, and Randall, has an interesting story. His biological parents were victims of the crack epidemic in the neighborhood and he was adopted by white parents. Ultimately, he was his mom’s favorite which his brother, Kevin struggled with (there was some internalized racism involved as well) for a while until Randall had his nervous breakdown in season one. There are multiple emotional moments in the show, but Randall seems to react the most to them all. This is in direct contrast to societal norms for men, and black men in general. In Myonna Peters research proposal, she stated that there is a relation between gender norms and aggression. This theory is supported by our text, as increased levels of testosterone have been positively related to increased levels of aggression (Heinzen & Goodfriend, 2019). Randall defies the odds in survival, by being adopted, and in the strength of his emotional intelligence compared to the average black man.

           As Peters states in her proposal, lack of emotional expression can lead to increased aggression (Peters, 2019). This is something that we don’t see with Randall because he very expressive. Meaning, that not only do we only see him get seriously angry only once throughout the series, but he has never been shy about crying. This is something that, as a black woman, I can appreciate being shown in primetime television. The media has a way of demonizing black men, and it has done so for years. Aside from black men specifically, societal norms emphasize the need for men to be stoic and lack emotion, yet strong in aggression. Peters theory supports that teaching. So, for the main black protagonist in this groundbreaking show to have such a deep connection his emotions, is something to be applauded. The show also highlighted mental illness and how that affects the black community. These ideals are things that take place in real life, but again, do to societal norms, are not discussed or handled properly. This is where we see an increase in hyper and toxic masculinity.

           Randall continues to break societal norms by also being a stand-up guy and doing what has to be done to provide for and protect his family. It can be inferred that the reason Randall has a high emotional intelligence is because of how his father, Jack, raised him. Jack had an abusive father and he was a soldier in the Vietnam War, so he experienced a lot of violence in his day. Fast forward to when he was raising his kids, he was very gentle and loving; never put his hands on them to discipline them, and even helped Randall through his anxiety attacks. Not to mention, because of the poor example he had for a father, he did his best to be the opposite of that for his kids which set a great example for them. So, Peters’ statement, “People who did not act aggressively also lacked in the gender normative traits that men are supposed to have” is not true in all cases (2019). That is more of a general deduction based on subjective findings. A lot of how people handle their aggression comes from how they are raised. As the text discussed, if people learn aggression, they can also learn understanding and forgiveness.

           What we do find in Randall’s case, and in research thanks to Peters’ is that people aim to please their significant others, so if they do not please them, they feel unlovable. This relates more to the type of attachment people have with their parents (Peters, 2019). A healthy bond is going to fortify healthy relationships in adult life. However, an anxious/ambivalent attachment leads to jealousy and low self-esteem in adult relationships (Heinzen & Goodfriend, 2019). Although it seemed that Randall had a healthy attachment to both of his parents, he still handles his relationship with his wife, Beth, as if he did not. He goes out of his way to make Beth happy, however, he does so in such a way that is more selfish than anything else. For example, (spoiler alert for season 3), when Randall took Beth on their first date, he went all out with flowers and a fancy restaurant. Sure, he was trying to impress her and make the date “perfect”, but he never considered what she wanted or what she considered “perfect”. As stated in the show numerous times, Randall and Beth worth together like R&B music, so when they had their big fight towards the end of the third season, Randall was essentially lost without Beth.

           Although there is a long list of societal and gender norms that will take generations to fix, it is shows like This Is Us, that get the ball rolling. Representation matters in all aspects of the media, which is why so many men, and black men specifically, have a problem expressing their emotions. Most men in the media do not express emotion, just as most men in real life do not express emotion. It is a vicious cycle, but as was previously stated, if people can learn aggression, they can just as easily learn compassion and forgiveness.

 Heinzen, T., & Goodfriend, W. (2019). Aggression. In Social Psychology (344). London, United Kingdom: SAGE Publications.

Heinzen, T., & Goodfriend, W. (2019). Intimate Relationships. In Social Psychology (382). London, United Kingdom: SAGE Publications.

Peters, M. (2019). Gender Norms and Aggression. [Poster Day]