#this is about like at least four different people from my past & present. And of course the tv glow ☝️🤓

[dailymanners]

It's Off Topic Tuesday again already, and this week I think I want to talk about something that my followers might find interesting: the naming system in Iceland.

Iceland has a really unique naming system in the sense that we don't have "family names" here, we use something called patronyms. So let's say your father's name is Jón, that means that if you're a girl your last name will be Jónsdóttir (daughter of Jón) or if you're a boy your last name will be Jónsson (son of Jón).

So again, we don't use "family names" here that get passed down from generation to generation, every last name is a unique personal title that speaks of your parentage. Although there are some exceptions, a few Icelanders do have "family names" but this is rare, since back in the day when Iceland was still a Danish colony / shortly after being liberated from Denmark some upper class people would have Danish family names as a sign of social status, but that's also been dying out the longer Iceland is no longer a Danish colony. You'll also see that in the older generations they'll use Danish words since that used to be a sign of class, but the younger generation doesn't really do that anymore (instead the younger generation uses a lot of English words since now that's the cool trendy thing to do).

This has been known to sometimes cause problems when Icelandic families travel abroad. Let's say you have a family of four: a mom, a dad, a daughter, and a son. Everyone in this family would have a different last name, and this has been known to confuse customs agents abroad. Sometimes they even suspect trafficking when both kids have a different last name that doesn't match either parent. Luckily this is rare, but it's still recommended for Icelandic parents to carry birth certificates when traveling abroad, just in case.

Now you might be wondering, what about kids who don't have a dad? We do also sometimes use matronyms here, although they're much rarer to use than patronyms. Probably at least 90% of the Icelandic population uses a patronym, but of course there are lesbian couples who have children, or cases where the father isn't in the picture.

I did also have a teacher who talked about how back in the olden days it was traditional in fishing villages to use matronyms instead of patronyms. That's because usually the father was gone out at sea for months at a time + deaths by drowning were so common for fisherman that the women could become widowed at a moment's notice, so this resulted in the fisherman's wives being quite independent and often using matronyms for their children.

The same teacher also once said "back in the old days if you had a matronym this meant your father was a bad man, but today it could just mean that your parents are feminists." Because yes, matronyms have also been growing in popularity the past few decades for feminist reasons, even if the father is still present and in the picture. What's most common in progressive / feminist couples though is using both a matronym and a patronym. So let's say your mother's name is Sigrún and your father's name is Jón, if your parents wanted to be progressive they might give you the last name "Sigrúnardóttir Jónsdóttir" or "Sigrúnarson Jósson."

However, Iceland still has its fair share of staunch traditionalists who don't like it if you use a matronym unless absolutely necessary (like the father not being in the picture) because patronyms are more "traditional" and "true to Icelandic culture". I do know at least one woman who her and her husband gave their kids both a matronym and a patronym to be progressive / feminist, and she's said that this made a lot of her extended family and in-laws angry for "desecrating Icelandic culture and tradition" instead of just using a patronym. I'm hoping this attitude changes with time, since I see no reason not to equally credit the mother when it comes to naming a child.

Now the thing about Iceland's naming traditions is that it may be unique now, but actually thousands of years ago this wasn't so unique. You might be familiar with English last names like "Jackson" or "Johnson", and that's because in other parts of Europe last names were also personal titles, not a family name passed down through generations. That's also why you have English family names like "Smith" or "Weaver" because having a last name as your personal title could have either referenced your parentage, or your profession, or any number of things really.

At some point most of the rest of Europe switched to family names that get passed down through the generations, and this was for the sake of making record keeping easier. Iceland was just one of the few holdouts and never really made the switch. Maybe it's because Iceland is so far away from the rest of Europe that it was forgotten when the change was implemented, or maybe it's because the population here is small enough that you can still easily keep record without having to use family names.

Either way, Iceland is one of the few places to have preserved a much older and more ancient naming tradition.

This can be quickly tied into the theme of my blog actually, because this means we don't use terms like "Mister" or "Misses" even in highly formal situations. Even if you're a doctor or a teacher you are referred to by your first name, since your last name is just a personal title which says who your parents are.

[thirteens-earring]

one thing about me is that if you’re dragging yourself kicking and screaming through a years long egg crack I’ll wait for you forever. all the time in the world

[glamourscat]

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ My thoughts on the Itoshi brothers’ dynamic ⋆. 𐙚 ˚

The Itoshi brothers’ dynamic is so damn sad, and it breaks my heart a little more every time I think about it.

The thing is, we know that Rin is deeply upset (and that’s an understatement) with Sae. Sae made him a promise, the one about becoming the best players in the world together. Reading the manga makes you understand that the way Sae says it, it’s meant as nothing more than “child talk.” You know, when you’re a child and you feel you’re on top of the world? Exactly like that. When you feel you’re invincible and nothing can break you.

But then Sae left for Spain, alone. He was still just a kid. We don’t know what happened during his time abroad, but we can speculate that it wasn’t easy. Easy to adapt, given the cultural differences between Japan and Spain. It probably wasn’t easy to understand and come to terms with the fact that he was not “the best in the world” like he used to be in the little team he played for in Japan. He went to Spain, met stronger opponents, and his dream got crushed. From a striker to a midfielder, because he saw better talents than him. Because he was probably made to feel like his talent wasn’t worth even trying.

You can’t tell me that a little boy with so much substance, joy, passion, and determination to become the number one striker is suddenly reduced to nothing but a shell of who he was. Sure, people grow, but we are talking about a massive jump. We are talking about a kid left to his own devices, alone, without a family by his side in a foreign country.

Which leads me to Rin. I understand his anger. The way he feels betrayed when Sae comes back and suddenly it’s not about “us” together, but about “us” separately. I understand the way he felt betrayed because while Rin poured every ounce of his sweat and tears into leveling up for Sae—his older brother had instead “moved on,” logically. While Rin was breaking himself in four to become someone good enough for Sae, keeping the promise they made close to heart, Sae hadn’t thought about it twice.

Sure, you can blame Rin and say he was too naive, too childish. But he was. He was all those things; he was a child. What child, a younger brother at that, wouldn’t take into consideration the words from his older brother? Younger siblings thrive off their older ones, becoming who they are as individuals by looking up to their older siblings, most of the times at least. It’s obvious why Rin chose football and not another sport, for example. Why he stopped receiving presents from Santa at 8 because his brother had stopped at 10—and if Sae stopped, then so would he, despite still longing for presents.

The betrayal hit Rin particularly hard because while he still had no idea who he was or is, he had at least Sae to look up to. And he was under the impression that the two of them would become the best together. But then Sae comes back, and that dream is out the window.

I’m not going to sit here and debate ethics, because morally speaking, neither Rin nor Sae are perfect beings. They are both equally flawed, and that’s what makes this tragic. Fast forward to now, with Rin being 16/17 and Sae 18, this is where the issues flow in.

They are both old enough to know that the words Sae spoke in the past and the present are wrong and hurtful. No, it’s not “sibling dynamics.” You can be as angry as you want with the world, with your sibling. But to speak like that, then pretend nothing happened and genuinely be confused about why your little brother is “acting out” is next-level madness. Last time I checked, we don’t know exactly what type of individuals Rin’s and Sae’s parents are. But, seeing how their kids react to conflict and hard emotions, it’s safe to say they probably aren’t the best parents. And there’s some emotional neglect involved.

Back to what I was saying, when you’re 16 your emotions are so damn high, this is not me trying to excuse Rin, it’s me understanding where he comes from. It doesn’t excuse the type of person he has become. It’s me sympathising with his situation, because when you live in an environment where you’re forced to either survive or get eaten—you choose survival, no matter what it takes to achieve it. He is a nasty piece of work, with his sharp edges, closed off emotionally and mentally. Slightly judgmental and extremely angry. At himself, at everything. His anger, however, doesn’t mutate like Shidou’s into violence on the field. Rin’s anger is thin, at times invisible. It seeps through the cracks and makes him bitter and sorrowful.

That said, when you come to terms with the fact that Sae has no idea on why Rin is so angry at him and the reason for his anger—passing off his attitude and words as simple “teenage angst” — makes me feel many ways, and none are positive. To me, it’s absurd seeing your little brother acting so hostile towards you, seeing the clear signs of anger and frustration but also sadness in him, and passing it off as “Rin is acting out.” How? Genuinely, how?

You see your brother on the verge of screaming at you on the football field, in front of thousands of people present and live during the U20 match, and what do you do? Further insult him? Girl— It’s the way Sae is not even trying to understand. You can think all you want that your brother is going through a phase, and maybe it’s just me, but if I see my younger sibling acting out, I’m going to talk to them. It doesn’t have to be an emotional confrontation per se, but a simple “what the hell is going on with you?” kind of thing. Letting them know that you’re there for them.

But, with the hypothetical scenario where the Itoshi brothers grew up in an emotionally neglectful house, it makes sense why Sae doesn’t even know how to approach Rin. Ultimately, however, the fact that Sae has no idea why his brother is “acting out,” why Rin is just so angry, makes the whole thing even sadder. Because while Rin took everything to heart and that anger, the delusion is slowly consuming him—Sae has no idea what’s going on. And if Rin finds out that Sae doesn’t even know/didn’t even notice, I think it would end even worse than it already is.

There, we will see his anger explode to unimaginable levels. Anger turning into self-destruction. Rin would truly become a shell of himself, unsure of what direction to take. Because how do you even begin to explain to your little brother that his anger, the way he was feeling, wasn’t even noticed or acknowledged by his older brother? How do you even begin to explain that Sae doesn’t even understand why Rin is reacting the way he is? Truth is, Sae is emotionally unavailable, and Rin is a ticking bomb ready to explode really soon.

© GLAMOURSCAT

[lissyneedstopissy]

tuna mayo ! miya osamu

chapter nine – a bouquet of flowers

wc 4609

MDNI.

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Four days after the meeting, the day of MSBY’s home game.

Multiple events, positive and negative, had occurred throughout the past couple of days. Who would’ve thought that going to one of Osaka’s most popular bars could result in a scandal? Especially one that you were involved in. Thankfully, as word got around that it was Osamu that had done the damage for your safety, many social media audiences began to ease up on MSBY, and although past events have yet to die down permanently, it’s been steadily decreasing in popularity.

Reason one, because it quickly turned into a non-celebrity issue, and reason two, there are now more important things for everyone, including yourself, to focus on. Specifically MSBY's home game against EJP Raijin, from Shizuoka.

You were currently overseeing the pre-game interviews alongside a few of your coworkers. Multiple news reporters and journalists were present, asking multiple questions to a couple of the older MSBY players.

It had been going on for about forty minutes, unfortunately increasing your boredom as every second passed.

buzz!

Since you were on the side, and out of camera view, you pulled out your phone from your black MSBY jacket, and looked to see who had texted you.

As you silently sighed of relief, a thought of confusion ran through your mind.

‘It’s like he knew I was bored… weird…’

You put your phone back into your pocket, and eyed the room full of people, making sure nobody had their eyes on you. Once the coast was clear, you began to walk against the wall and to the door in a hurry, making minimal noise.

The reason you asked Hinata if Atsumu was present or not created a small feeling of guilt within you. Ever since you, and both twins had to meet with MSBY’s publicist, you haven’t spoken to Atsumu since that day, giving him the space he desired. Practices hadn’t all been that weird, but moments of awkwardness would arise if you happened to get a bit too close to him.

Moving on to Osamu, the both of you essentially decided to continue your situationship with each other, yet agreed to take a small break to let everything sink in. Everything was made easier due to the fact that Osamu had to take a small trip to Tokyo to solve a small conflict at his somewhat newly opened Onigiri Miya for about a week. Regardless of this, you both still made an effort to text each other at least once a day to check up on the latter.

You thought that a bit of separation would help let everything ease in, but truth to be told, you miss him. A lot more than you would’ve liked.

As you opened the doors with the sign ‘Gym 2,’ you immediately noticed three men standing towards the middle of the court, two of which were wearing a lively yellow jacket, different from the standard gold that MSBY wears. The other was none other than Hinata, who had an intrigued expression on his face.

When you stepped inside, all attention was immediately turned towards you, with Hinata acting as excited as ever.

“[L/N]!” he shouted, lightly jogging over to you.

You lifted up one of your hands and slightly waved as a greeting towards the ginger, with a smile on your face.

He quickly grabbed onto your shoulders as soon as he became within reach, and almost instantly, a serious expression plagued his face.

“Listen, I told you I wanted to introduce you to one of my friends, but one of my other friends came out of nowhere, so now you get to meet both of them. Okay?” He asked, slightly shaking your body.

“Yes sir.” You rolled your eyes, and answered sarcastically, taking his hands off your shoulders.

The both of you quickly walked over, and were greeted by the two other men with a bow, to which you reciprocated.

“This is Komori Motoya, he’s EJP’s libero, and surprisingly enough, Sakusa’s cousin.” Hinata pointed at the brown haired man, who in your opinion, was tall for a libero.

“Wait, you’re Sakusa’s cousin?” It was now you that spoke, a surprised look on your face. He looked nothing like him, physically, and mentally, to the best of your judgement. 

Komori chuckled, and rubbed the back of his head with a happy, carefree expression on his face. “Yes, I am. We both went to Itachiyama together. It’s nice to meet you, [L/N]!” 

“Ah, I see. It’s nice to meet you as well, Komori.”

“Aaaand this lanky guy is Suna Rintaro!” Hinata moved his pointed finger to the left of Komori (your right), and continued. “He’s EJP’s middle blocker, and he went to high school with Atsumu and Osamu at Inarizaki.”

As you kept that same welcoming smile on your face, you could feel your heart drop and slightly begin to pound due to the mention of the Miya twins. As you quickly observed the man in front of you, you couldn’t help but notice he kept his eyes on you in a way you didn’t know how to describe. He stared at you like… he already knew you?

Assuming that you’re just being paranoid for no reason, you muttered out a small “Nice to meet you, Suna.” yet he kept his eyes on you as he hummed for a response.

“Um…” You started, looking at the three volleyball players in front of you. “You guys excited for the game?”

“Yes, I can’t wait to beat EJP!” Hinata shouted, with two thumbs up accompanying his short stature. You giggled as Komori lightly slapped Hinata’s shoulder as a response to his statement, responding with a small “You wish!”

The four of you began to engage in small talk, moreso, Hinata, Komori, and yourself were talking with a few small remarks from Suna here and there. Knowing that Suna was, and probably still is, friends with Osamu changed everything for you, as he hadn’t properly introduced you to his circle yet. 

A couple minutes passed by, and Komori had asked Hinata to show him where the bathrooms were. Your muscles stiffened at this, realizing you and Suna would have to be left alone, which was not ideal at all.

As the two of them exited the practice gym, you were left shifting from one foot to the other, waiting for Suna to say something.

Anything.

Yet, that never happened.

You watched as he looked around the gym, hands in his pockets, most likely staring at some of the nearby banners on the walls, as you were just utterly shocked by the audacity. The audacity of him not even trying to speak to you.

“So…” You started, resulting with him immediately turning his whole face to you, maintaining eye contact. The previous smile on your face was meant to give off a relaxed impression, yet that was quickly replaced with a tight-lipped gesture of uncomfortable acknowledgement. 

You looked around the gym hoping to gain inspiration from anything, and that’s when your eyes landed on a banner showing a certain blonde-haired setter. You slightly grimaced at this, but was thankful for it because of the inspiration you gained.

“What was highschool like with Atsumu?” You had finally continued your sentence, firmly placing your hands behind your back.

Suna had raised an eyebrow at this. “It was whatever. Atsumu hasn’t changed a bit, so…”

“Oh yeah? How?” You countered.

“Atsumu’s still a big fat jerk.”

You snorted with laughter, almost instantly covering your mouth. Before you could internally berate yourself, Suna had finally shown an expression of comedic relief on his face.

“Atsumu can be a jerk sometimes.” You agreed, letting out some of your past emotions. “But he’s still a nice guy. He was my first friend when I got hired to work for MSBY.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You confirmed, but hesitated for a bit before speaking once more. “He was a jerk at first, though.” This time, a small chuckle was brought out of Suna. Obviously, you hadn’t known him for long, but he didn’t seem like an easy guy to elicit a reaction from. As he had calmed down, silence took over once again.

This time, it wasn’t as uncomfortable as before, but you would’ve liked to start another conversation with him about something.

“So, how’s Osamu doing?” The same voice from earlier spoke.

For some reason, you could feel yourself glitch internally. A confused smile was placed on your face as multiple thoughts began to run through your head.

“How’s– what?” You asked, keeping that same expression on your face.

“How is Miya Osamu doing? Ya’know, Atsumu’s twin?”

“I know who Osamu is.”

“Then why didn’t you answer my question when I first asked it?”

You deadpanned, pausing to think of an answer. “Well… he’s your friend, right? You should know how he’s doing.”

A small, yet mischievous smirk appeared on Suna’s face as he leaned closer to you, dropping his hands to his side. “You’re right. Yet, you seem to be much closer to him than I am.”

You stared at the middle blocker directly in the eyes whilst swallowing a lump in your throat. He knows about you and Osamu? Since when? As numerous thoughts about the situation popped up, you could see a slight glimmer of amusement in Suna’s eyes.

“Calm down, [L/N]. Why are you tensing up?”

“I’m not tense.” You replied in that instant.

“Osamu told me about you when you guys first met.” He responded, putting his hands in his pockets. A feeling of increased confidence suddenly surged through your body, causing your eyes to widen ever so slightly. Yet, you stayed silent, thinking about your recent lack of communication with one another.

“It’s not my place to really say anything but, um,” Suna took his hands out of his pocket, and began to zip up his EJP jacket. “He likes you. A lot.”

A hint of pink began to creep upon your cheeks, but you didn’t care.

“Is that so?” You asked softly.

“He talks about you whenever he gets the chance, and frankly enough, it’s getting irritating.” 

You scoffed lightly at this, crossing your arms. “Wow, thank you!”

“Yeah, no problem.” 

Suna looked towards the clock on the wall, signalling that it was time for him to leave. He politely bowed to you, and as he turned on his heel to walk towards the door. You watched him walk away, and as he approached the door, you suddenly blurted out a question you weren’t even thinking about.

“Wait, has he talked about me these past few days?” You slightly shouted, loud enough for Suna, and only Suna to hear. He looked at you over his shoulder, same neutral expression on his face as you began to speed walk over to him.

“Yeah. He said he felt bad about the whole club thing.”

You sighed lightly at this, looked down at your feet and muttered out a small ‘fuck.’ An internal realization came to you at this moment: You truly didn’t want what you have with Osamu to end at all. 

Looking back up at Suna, a small smile appeared on your face. “Good luck during the game. You’re gonna need it.” Suna rolled his eyes, and turned back towards the door, opening it and exiting the gym. “Yeah, right.” He loudly scoffed.

Now that you were by yourself in the gym, you began to reflect on the past month, perhaps a bit more, you’ve been with Osamu. Having been to Onigiri Miya more times than you could count, you became extremely aware of the fact that you’ve actually never gone on an actual date with him. How could you not have noticed this until now? I mean, you’re both busy people with jobs, but regardless, you both simultaneously made time for FaceTime calls.

Pulling out your phone, you hesitated for a moment, before ultimately texting Osamu and attempting to break your distance with one another.

Immediately putting your phone on do not disturb, you exited the gym and began to walk towards the main arena, since the game was set to start in one hour. You had decided on the way that you would deal with Atsumu’s antics later, and now begin to focus primarily on doing your best to monitor the game.

15:17.

Score: MSBY, 3. EJP, 2.

The crowd watching erupted into cheers, celebrating MSBY’s victory against EJP Raijin. As all of the sweaty men shook hands with each other, you stood by Coach Foster, clapping due to the victory, as well as the amusement you’ve been given from this game. It was a pretty close game, but thanks to Atsumu’s quick thinking in the last set, MSBY was able to gain a two-point lead, guiding his team to victory.

As the announcer thanked the audience for coming to watch the game, everybody had soon begun to disperse, except for the Black Jackals. This was your cue to leave the gym, and if you would like, the stadium in general, since you weren’t tasked with creating any content for this game. Usually, you would wait for your friends to come out so you would congratulate them, but, there’s different circumstances. Letting out a small groan, you made your way through one of the doors on the court, and exited through a small hallway, leading you to the first floor of the main area, showing some audience members waiting to take a picture with the players. Ultimately deciding you would wait for your friends, you began to walk around for a bit. 

After remembering that your phone was on DND, you swiftly grabbed it out of your back pocket, looking through your notifications, with a couple standing out to you.

‘osamu; 4 missed calls.’

As you stared at these calls, you could feel your heart begin to swell with nervousness. Did something happen? You quickly pressed on one of the missed calls and held your phone up to your ear, speed walking to a more deserted part of the commons area.

[bold is y/n, bold + italics is osamu]

“[Y/N].”

A male voice was heard on the end of the receiver. The male voice you’ve been craving to hear for days caused your heart to flutter.

“Osamu, what’s wrong?” You asked with genuine concern.

“Are ya still in the stadium?”

“Uh, y-yeah.” You coughed away from the phone to clear your throat. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, but listen, do ya’know where my concession stand is?”

“It’s by the yakitori concession on the second floor, right?”

“Right. Can ya start making yer way there?”

Your chest began to grow tight, heat flowing throughout your body. “Why?” You quietly questioned. “I think the floor is closed.”

You could hear a small chuckle from the other end. “Yer a JVA employee, ain’t ya?”

“Well… yeah, but–”

“No buts. Go to the second floor.”

click!

You stared at your phone, which now showed your lock screen. Taking a deep breath in, you walked towards the escalators, which were being guarded by two hefty security men. As you showed them your JVA badge, they let you up with no problem.

As you slowly ascended to the second floor, your heart kept the same, fast-tempo beats you were feeling earlier. Internally, you were absolutely bouncing up and down.

Reaching the second floor, you looked to your right, as you had forgotten which side Onigiri Miya was on. It’s also to be noted that the floor was completely empty. Like, nobody around at all since it seemed that all the concession stands were closed. Realizing Onigiri Miya wasn’t on the right, you turned towards the left, only to be met with an all too familiar male figure in the distance.

He was standing in front of Onigiri Miya, facing towards you holding something rather large… and pink in his hands. From what you could tell, he was wearing baggy black jeans, with a grey sweater, and underneath, a white undershirt which slightly peeked out. You were half admiring the outfit, half scolding yourself for not looking as presentable.

Overwhelmed, you stood still. Almost immediately, you recognized the male figure as Osamu, whom you have craved to see for days.

As he began to walk towards you, your body almost instantly followed his movements. The closer the two of you got, the more you could see clearly. He was holding a bouquet, with all of the most gorgeous flowers, such as stargazer lilies, baby’s breath, daisies, and pink peonies, wrapped in a beautiful pale pink paper, tied with a silk, white ribbon.

Soon enough, the two of you stood in front of one another, mere inches apart.

Your mouth opened, but nothing came out. In truth, you didn’t know what to say. He had a toothy grin on his face, as well as a small amount of red painting his cheeks. The smell of his cologne was intoxicating you in the way that you liked, re

“Hello, [Y/N].” He spoke first, radiating euphoric energy.

Finally, words came out. But, not the words you expected. “I thought you were in–”

“Mmhm, I was.” Osamu interrupted, still smiling lightly.

“What are you doing here, Osamu?” 

He looked down towards the flowers, then back up to you. He stared into your eyes as if he was hypnotized by you. “Well, I’m here ta’ ask ya on a date.”

As much as you wanted to take this situation seriously, your lips began to upturn into an uncontrollable smile. “Oh?”

He nodded once.

“This isn’t how I wanted ta’ ask ya, but I wasn’t gonna let ya beat me to it.”

Without realizing it, your bodies moved together, closer to one another as though you were being pulled to each other. As you looked down, eyeing the flowers, and admiring their beauty, Osamu’s gaze stayed on you, holding an affectionate intensity towards you. As he held out the flowers with both hands, you looked back up at him and accepted, your hands brushing against his.

You put the flower in between your left arm, and waist as a way to balance it, finally hooking your right arm around your neck and pulling him into a hug. A hug that he wasn’t going to deny. As he wrapped both of his hands around your waist, leaning into the crook of your neck, you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding in.

“I can’t believe you came from Hyogo just to counter ask me out.” You lightly huffed, whispering affectionately in a joking manner. “You could’ve waited until you finished business, ya’know.”

Osamu began to pull away, keeping one hand on your waist, and moving the other to your face, brushing a stray lock out of the way and moving it behind your ear, his hand remaining on your cheek.

“Yeah, but I couldn’t wait.” His voice hushed, as a way to express tenderness.

As the energy between the two of you shifted to something more intimate, your gazes locked, and time seemed to pause. It was just the two of you in this very moment as your faces grew close together, until your lips interlocked in a soft, yet passionate kiss. The movements between the two of you were synchronized. Your pulse raced as butterflies flew throughout your stomach, noticing how soft Osamu’s lips were. 

Even though there was nothing in the world to describe how badly you wanted this kiss to last for eternity, you slowly pulled away as your eyes fluttered open. Immediately noticing the red hue on his cheeks, your smile grew larger.

“So, uh–” Osamu cut himself off, coughing as an attempt to clear his throat from the newfound nervousness he was experiencing. “How ‘bout that date?”

“What?”

“The date… ya didn’t say yes or no.”

Almost instantly deadpanning, you lightly slapped his chest. “I just let you kiss me. If that’s not enough for a ‘yes,’ then I don’t know what is.”

Osamu hummed amusingly as he wrapped his muscular arm around you, guiding you to the escalator to descend to the first floor.

“My mom taught me ta’ never assume.”

You sighed dramatically, looking back at the bouquet once more. “Yes, I’ll go on a date with you.” Without warning, Osamu kissed your forehead lightly, eliciting a pink tint on your cheeks. 

“What was that for?” You asked accusingly.

You could feel the man beside you shrug. “Dunno. Yer very kissable.”

Letting out a small ‘ugh,’ the both of you stepped on the escalator, using this opportunity as a way to look over the handle to see if any fans were still around, and to your (somewhat) surprise, there was nobody. Except, as the closer you got down to the first place, the closer several male voices got to you and Osamu. These voices were easily recognizable as members of MSBY.

“Guess I should congratulate ‘Tsumu.” Osamu muttered, noticing the voices as well.

Humming in approval, and looking back at the bouquet for the nth time, you pointed out a very obvious fact. “He’s gonna ask about the flowers.”

“Yeah.” Osamu paused for a second, looking over the railing on your side of the escalator. “I’ll just tell him I asked ya out on a date.”

Averting his eyes towards you, he could see your nose slightly scrunch up, knowing that you were most likely thinking about the reaction Atsumu was going to give this time.

“I don’t think he’ll be upset, [Y/N].”

You looked up at Osamu, slight confusion plaguing your mind. “Really? I still feel kinda bad, to be honest.”

“He’s a grown man, ya’know.”

Simultaneously stepping off the escalator, Osamu removed his arms from your body as you both walked to the right, to be met with Inunaki, Hinata, Atsumu, and Barnes about to walk directly past you. Unfortunately for you, that wasn’t an option as they all immediately noticed Osamu, yourself, and the big bouquet of flowers you were holding.

A moment of silence passed, as all men besides Atsumu let out a “OOOOOOOOOOO!” in a teasing manner. You didn’t focus on them, as you were eyeing Atsumu’s facial expression. He looked faintly shocked, yes, but he wasn’t looking at you, he was looking at his brother. 

As the blonde walked towards his brother, arms open as an invitation for a hug, you took that as a hint to make your way over to the men who were still hooting and hollering.

“Did Osamu get that for ya, [L/N]?” Barnes asked, eyes alight with joy.

“He did. Isn’t it so pretty?”

The three men agreed, words overlapping one another as they all discussed the beauty of each individual flower.  You took this as a quick opportunity, and turned your head over your shoulder. The twins were exiting the hug, and you could hear a bit of their conversation, mainly Atsumu expressing his surprise for Osamu being in town for the game. Turning back, your eyes landed on the ginger in front of you, eyes full of curiosity. You tilted your head slightly.

“So, are you and Atsumu like…?” He asked quietly, being cautious of the setter hearing him.

“We haven’t really, uh, spoken yet.” You answered, a sad smile took over your face. Ever since the meeting with the publicists, the whole team was able to sense the tension between you and Atsumu, knowing you both were very close, but now distanced due to this small issue.

“You want to talk to him?” Now it was Inunaki speaking, looking like he had a solution in mind. You nodded at this. “Alright, the three of us will leave, and then–” The libero cut himself off, looking at the dark haired man behind you, walking towards the four of you.

“I’m not gonna lie…” Osamu started, the corner of his lip turned upwards, leaning in to hug you. “I have ta’ get back ta’ Hyogo soon to finish up everythin’.” You shook your head, letting out a small ‘tsk tsk.’ as you mirrored his movements. “I told you you should’ve just waited until you finished.” 

“Blah blah blah.” He muttered jokingly as he pulled away from your warm embrace, waving at the three other men, making his way towards the exit of the arena. 

“We’re gonna head out as well, then.” Barnes confirmed as he put both of his hands on either shoulder of his two teammates.

“Good luck!” Hinata whisper-shouted, two thumbs up on display as the three followed shortly after Osamu, towards the exit. With that, you finally turned around, immediately catching wind of Atsumu’s eye contact on you. Walking towards him, you noticed his hands were in his pocket, with an apologetic look on his face.

A brief period of silence passed. “I–” The both of you spoke at the same time, immediately interrupting yourselves.

“Go ahead.” You offered to Atsumu, to which he nodded and took a deep breath.

“Nice flowers.” He nodded towards the bouquet resting in your arms. “‘Samu got ‘em for ya?” As a response, you nodded, unable to contain the jittery smile you’ve been holding in, merely wanting to express this with your best friend.

“Listen, [Y/N],” He started, moving his hand to rub the back of his nape. “I’m sorry if I overreacted and pissed ya off the other day. If you and ‘Samu wanna be together, then who am I to hold y’all back?”

“Thank you, Atsumu. I’m sorry for going behind your back and meeting up with your brother. He’s too nice of a guy for me to back off of.”

He chuckled. “Yer all good. I never wanted ta’ stand in the way of yer love life or whatever in the first place, but I just wasn’t too happy that you fell for ‘Samu.”

You giggled at this, creating a comfortable silence between the two of you for a couple of seconds.

“We still besties?” Atsumu asked, opening his arms the same way he did for his brother. “Of course, ‘Tsum.” Accepting his invitation, hugging him tightly just as best friends do to one another.

“Don’t you still have to get on the bus?” You questioned, gesturing your head towards the doors of the arena. The blondie sighed dramatically, nodding, and beginning to walk as you followed him, having to also make your way to your car.

As you both exited, the light breeze immediately blew on the two of you. The weather was beautiful, which is better than you could’ve ever asked for, especially after such an exciting day. “Nice game, by the way. You played well.” You spoke once more, acknowledging the earlier event.

“Um, just well?” He challenged, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh, excuse me. Might I say thou’s playing style art akin to a masterpiece, possessing an unparalleled essence of singularity, my good sir.”

Atsumu snobbily laughed, and waved his hand out in front of him. “Why, thank you madam [L/N]!” The two of you regularly laughed at the medieval speech, ever wondering how you could’ve gone days without speaking to one another.

“Also, by the way.” You started once the two of you calmed down. “What made you change your mind about me and Osamu?”

“Oh.” It seems like he was taken a bit back by this, yet had an answer ready. “Frankly enough, I don’t mind ya bein' my sister in-law.”

You choked on your saliva, but in a good way. “Woah, we’re not even official yet.”

Atsumu hummed at this, putting his hands back into his jacket pockets. “Didn’t ‘Samu tell ya?”

“Tell me what?”

“He only dates ta' marry.”

author's notes !

𐙚 sorry for the small break , but if you're a college student , you'll understand .

𐙚 i may or may not be uploading a chapter next week as well ... woops

𐙚 THEY FINALLY KISSED YAHOOOOOOO !!! (me acting like i don't control the plot)

𐙚 reblogs are always appreciated !

taglist: @reuka1 @enepsigosthelast @arwawawa2 @miruac @loveelylani @ohgodthevoices @pickuptruck01 @haechansbbg @nixilyy @origamipivo @arteful @luv-toruu @mizzmarmar @p4lli @amterasuu @k0z3me

(some of the tags might've not worked , sorry !)

[aswanlake]

᯽ 0.1⠀( what a cliche . )⠀by aswanlake.

tags: dividers by @sseuda & @strangergraphics-archive | @harrypotterlovers-things

synopsis: finnick made a vow to never mentor anyone again, he was terrified of getting people’s hopes up just for it to ultimately end in despair. until his new tribute is a breath of fresh air and letting her die would be too much on his conscious, however he focus too much on make sure she was physically strong and not mentally.

content warnings: mentions of prostitution , more fluff for the first chapter , not a lot of finnick (for now) , I don’t think much else it’s a calm first chapter

word count: 2.1k

a/n: this was supposed to be out two days ago . . my bad . working on “the worst guide to murder” right now however I’m not sure if people really like it so if the first chapter doesn’t do well then I might scrap it .

song of the chapter⠀⠀:⠀⠀your left me first by d4vd .

© aswanlake do not copy, steal, translate, repost any of my works

Finnick made a promise to himself after his sixth year of being a mentor that was going to stop completely. He was never a bad mentor, Annie won, five years after he had won so it was proof that he wasn’t terrible however he couldn’t deal with the guilt anymore. He was freshly twenty and yet he has never known a day of peace, the Capital took advantage of him, his naivety, his broken mind and body. It didn’t matter who, man, woman, all of them would take their chance with the newest victor, claiming their disgusting comments talking about how handsome he’ll look whenever he “grows up”, he wasn’t even grown up yet. Twenty didn’t feel old, it felt like a slap in the face, an insult because the older he got the more clients that came and it was sickening, he felt gross in his own skin.

Until you. District four was a career district although it was never really regarded as one because the reaped had enough training to survive but never truly to win. They never ganged up with the other career districts, merely kept to themselves until the time came down to choose a winner. You however felt the fault in your luck, you’d felt it in your bones, as soon as you were of age you would be reaped. It was as if your guardian angel whispered the words of ruin in your ear anytime you were reminded of the Hunger Games. You hated watching them, children hunting others for sport didn’t seem exciting or enticing by any stretch of the imagination, your best friend from district four agreed, it's why you were so close, the two of you would always do anything but watch the Hunger Games together. You would watch bits and pieces– the highlights to at least be able to fit in with the crowd but beyond that, the two of you would be cooped up in your room doing some type of arts and crafts activity. The past few times you’ve made seashell picture frames for Christmas and then you started to try your hand at crochet, which was a lot harder than you had expected, the different types of patterns had you spinning, attempting to make even simple items was a struggle. However, over the past couple months you’ve been getting better and better, almost finishing a sweater that you were going to give to your mother.

Calder– your best friend, said that he was working on something as well but wouldn’t tell you who it was for or even what it was. You only got bits and pieces whenever the two of you got to work together. “ It’s for a girl, isn’t it? You're making a cute little present for your crush. ” You teased heavily, carrying a basket filled with food from the market the two of you had acquired for dinner. His smile grew heavy but he didn’t confirm or deny, just shrugging his shoulders with a wicked glare. “ Oh come on! I know it’s true! Is it the girl from down the stream? What’s her name. . . Amaya? Or the girl from the bakery? I see you two look at each other a lot whenever we go in for bread. ”

He pushed your shoulder playfully, enough to shove you but not enough to catch you off balance as you two walked. “ Shut up, we do not look at each other a lot. I’m buying bread from her, obviously I’m gonna look at her! ” You rolled your eyes at his very reasonable but stupid excuse. “ Yeah but you don’t gotta give her googly eyes as she hands the bread to you. You could just look around outside or at the other bread in the case as you wait for her to give it to you. ” He ignored your comment but that slick smile was still there so you were positive that you were correct. Before you could open your mouth to speak, a siren began to sound, springing the fear out of the both of you for a moment. “ Reaping. ” Calder’s voice was calm, too calm as if he knew nothing would truly ever happen to the two of you. Thank god for him, you never did think you were going to get chosen but that didn’t stop your heart from sinking every time it came around.

The two of you quickly made your way home, dropping off the items you had picked up from the market, you both would back in time to put everything up in the pantry. Sadly you two parted, it was better to be with family during the reaping, even though you wished you could be by his side for this part but it would probably only get you two in trouble. Last time you two were near each other during something important, you burst out laughing and got grounded for three months. Your mother wasn’t anxious, she was rather calm, you were the opposite. You couldn’t help the nerves, they made you sick even though you knew everything would be fine. You blocked out the sound of the woman’s voice, her droning on was enough to make you sick until the sound of your name cut through the silence. You didn’t process it at first, everyone around you did but you didn’t. Your body stilled and your head never lifted from the ground, you just stared. Your mother’s tears and gasps pulled you out of your trance and you faced her, unsure of what to say or do. “ I forgot to put the bread up. Can you do that when you get home? ” Your voice was shaky, perhaps it was the shock, you weren’t even sure why you said that.

You still didn’t move so the peacekeepers started to move you, dragging your limbs easily as if your body had gone limp. The only thing you heard was the sound of Calder screaming for you, fighting for you. “ I’ll volunteer! I’ll volunteer as tribute! Let me take her place! Please! ” He was held back by another set of peacekeepers, but you tried your best to reach him, however your efforts were fruitless. Peacekeepers were built to fight. To withstand. To be an immovable force and remind you of your unforsaken fate. “ I’m sorry but only other young women can volunteer for the female tribute. ” The colorful woman on stage spoke, that was the only thing that got him quiet. They forced you onto the stage, held Calder in place in the crowd as tears filled your eyes. The woman asked you if you had anything to say but you couldn’t force the words out. You just shook like a leaf on that stage while your mother wept because you were reaped. Then the tribute for the boys came, the woman on stage could barely get the words out before Calder spoke. “ I volunteer! I volunteer, me! ” He forced his way out of the peacekeeper’s grip to make it to the stage. Despite the people blocking him, you felt his arms wrap around you, grip tight as if he was afraid you’d be ripped apart. He was right which only made it more disheartening whenever they did pull him, you fought against it, wanting to keep the only thing you had left close to you but couldn’t. Not until the end.

You visited your mother one final time, told her about the sweater you were working on. If you were being honest, you didn’t think that you would make it home. The Hunger Games was a ruthless and despicable game. You couldn’t even kill a rabbit, what made you think that you could kill a human being. The train ride was relatively silent, Finnick didn’t really have any words for you, you didn’t think he would. You’ve heard of his streak, refusing to help his tributes, complaining that they were too weak minded for the games and he didn’t want to give them false hope but you knew it was bullshit. If anything you thought it was selfish, selfish of him to not give them false hope. You’d rather die with false hope because at least it would give you a chance, right now you didn’t even want to try, you had accepted that there was nothing to you. No point in you even giving it a go with training or the games or trying to be intimidating because you had no hope.

Calder kept you close, head pushed into his chest, you’d stopped crying a little while ago but you didn’t move your body. Too afraid to face the outside world. “ So, what are you two? Hm? Lovers? We going for a star-crossed concept? ” Finnick’s tone was cocky, laced with nothing but sarcasm. It was heavy and mocking, maybe it wasn’t on purpose but you felt like it. Your eyes moved to see him out of the corner of your eye, he was perfectly sober but neck was littered in hickies. You wanted to puke, the PDA was irritating, the least he could do was keep it to himself. Is this how victors bragged about living? By showing themselves off? You’d heard the rumors from the other districts about the victors “getting around”, only people in the capitol had enough to pay for it but the first district knew a lot. They were a disposal of secrets. Things tunneled out of the Capital and into the first district.

The victors were show ponies, they turned their lives into a reality show to deal with the trauma of surviving. You didn’t think it to be possible but everyone dealt with their trauma and grief in different ways and besides, you didn’t survive. You couldn’t decide how other people should live their lives. You could barely even decide your own. “ Fuck off. Are you even going to mentor us or will you just sit there awkwardly and make bad jokes? ” Calder’s voice was harsh and rough, his hands cradled you as one would a baby bird. Finnick’s face dropped, as if he wasn’t expecting the harsh manner, his hands moved upwards in a sign of retreat, the smile that was wiped off of his face returned. “ Didn’t mean for the hostility kid. Just. . wanted to lighten the mood. ” He sat back on the opposing couch, arms and legs crossed as he digested the sight before him. You pulled away from Calder, his body flinched, head whipping to see you and ensure you were ok. The tear streaks had dried on your face, eyes were red and puffy. “ Will that work? ” Your voice was quiet, shaky, harmless. They both didn’t expect you to speak and Calder surely didn’t expect such a question out of you. “ Will acting like that in public work? Will it help us survive? ” Two victors was impossible, that you knew very well but if it gave you the public advantage and even helped Calder further in the competition then that’s all you wanted.

However he was rather apprehensive, his hand resting on the small of your back as concern covered his face. “ Are you sure about doing this? We don’t know how the public might take it? We don’t even know how to act. . well you surely don’t. ” Him picking fun at you almost made you forget where the two of you were, a smile finally pulling at your once saddened expression. “I can- I will, if it means it will help. ” Now the two of you turned your attention back to Finnick, now skeptical if the plan would even work. Finnick was going through an internal battle watching the two of you. He vowed to not help anyone ever again, not give those kids any false hope about survival but you two tugged at the heart strings he had tried so desperately to hide from this line of work. He couldn’t take it, had the two of you been focused you would have noticed how glassy his eyes got and the tremble of his lip before he smiled– washing it over as if it was fine.

“ Yeah, I think we can make that work but you have to be believable. You aren’t the first pair to try it so your expectations will be high. I don’t mean be on top of each other, just… show them that you care– give the capitol a show to enjoy. ” It sounded so sinister as he said it but this was truly one of the only ways of survival. “ The more the capital enjoys you two, the more they’ll try and send you gifts, gifts are good. They help you survive longer. As your sponsor I’ll do my best to send you things from others and if you do good enough then maybe– maybe even myself. ” He let the room fall silent before finishing. " Are we clear? ” You looked at Calder, his soft eyes waiting for you before agreeing or disagreeing and then you both nodded. From this point on, you were lovers, shouldn’t be that hard, right?

[obsidiannebula]

How to Spot AI-Generated Reference Texts

This morning I celebrated a lovely Christmas with my family. My 3 year old was ecstatic, I made my brother tear up, it was a good time. But I received something that at first, seemed like the kind of thing I would very much like to own... until I started actually looking through it. I quickly realized that this book is unmistakably AI-generated slop and should not be used or trusted as an actual reference guide. Having not been written by an actual expert in the field or even compiled by an actual researcher citing sources and synthesizing information, these books are at best three hundred pages of reading the first couple of sentences of a search result for each topic, and at worst full of dangerous misinformation that can get people killed, as with the rise of AI-generated mushroom foraging books. These are in no way reliable reference guides for anything, but especially for anything with potential health risks like ingesting plants and their compounds.

So today I'm going to try and get some good use out of this book I now own by using it to demonstrate how to spot AI-generated scam books.

The first red flags jump out at us right from the cover. This is "The Home Apothecary Full Collection: Your In-Depth Holistic Guide with Natural Herbal Remedies for Long-Lasting Wellness and Optimal Health." Yeesh, what a mouthful. A soulless, artless mouthful, I must add. But hey, maybe this author is a very clinical or verbose type. Except a quick search for the author's name, Megan Morren, quickly makes it clear that this is not a real person. There is one bare-bones Facebook profile for a Megan Morren, and no social media beyond that. No LinkedIn or Pinterest or mentions in an article, nothing. Every other result shows her books: this one, and two others nearly identical to it, with slightly different names but the same "1500+ Remedies/Extra Content" claim in the same corner, utilizing the same fonts and each with a very similar AI-generated background.

That's right, we've got a pretty bog-standard AI-generated image for the cover of this book, showcasing a variety of vaguely herbal plants and jars as well as several nonsensical non-objects.

Okay, so the cover was definitely made by AI, but maybe this author is writing under a pseudonym and visually just not very creative. Let's open it up and took a look at...

Oooookay so that's how we're getting the "40 books in one" claim touted on the cover. What most people would call a chapter is here billed as an entire book, with each subtopic considered its own chapter. There's not more than two or three "chapters" per "book" and most of the chapters are only one or two pages long, which is some James Patterson-ass shit. At least if Patterson had written this book there'd be a little character to the narration and an attempt at wit, but as we'll soon see, the actual writing is... wanting, to say the least.

Obviously the first observation here is that formatting is for the BIRDS. No paragraph breaks or indents, and the paragraphs are all of roughly similar length. Furthermore, the writing reads like a copy/pasted Wikipedia page. Scratch that, I went ahead and typed "history of herbal healing" into a search engine and found the actual Wikipedia page for "History of herbalism," which actually does provide more detail on the topic as well as FIFTY-FOUR ACTUAL SOURCES and some recommended further reading, making it vastly superior to this slop. Because there's not a single source cited in this entire book, nor is there an author bio here or online that remotely suggests that the author might have some experience and expertise from which they are drawing to write or even fact-check this book.

On top of that, there is truly no authorial voice whatsoever. Even if you wanted to be very academic about it and avoid using first-person in your reference book, there should at least be some synthesizing of sources and information, expanding on the ideas presented and combining them to draw new conclusions or illustrate points. But everything here is incredibly surface-level, like someone copied the first sentence or three from the first Google result and stuck it there and then moved on to the next bullet point in the outline.

Seriously, this whole book is just page after page of walls of text. It's a nightmare to try to read if you have any sort of reading-impairing disorder like dyslexia or ADHD, and it's also just kind of ugly. And in a book supposedly about herbalism, there is not a single image or diagram. That's wild to me. There is nothing in here to aid with plant identification or demonstrate the tincturing or decocting processes or anything. I've never read an herbalism book without a single picture or diagram. Granted, I've only read a handful, but still, it seems very strange to me. And god did these endless blocks of text need SOMETHING to break them up.

Also these introductory paragraphs just scream "obligatory" to me. They're all a single paragraph of approximately the same length, providing a perfunctory and colorless overview of the subject matter. I mean, seriously? We're starting off "uplifting herbs for depression" with "Depression affects millions globally. It is characterized by x and y. While it is conventional treated with medication and therapy, there are also some herbs that can improve mood." It's so bland and robotic and uninformative. I think most fifth graders could write a better introductory paragraph, as long as we didn't penalize them for spelling or grammar.

I'd really like to get back to spending the holiday with family, so I'm going to leave it at that. It's just so frustrating to see books like this pushing legitimate texts written by real people with real expertise or at least personality out of bookshelves and searches, propagating useless or even dangerous information in place of sharing real knowledge and traditions. I had to rant a little bit and get it off my chest.I wish everyone a safe and happy holiday season, and all the best for 2025. Everyone, that is, except "Megan Morren." Whoever you really are, I hope you step on Legos every day for the rest of your life. It's the least you deserve for publishing trash like this.

[harleykeeners]

how can I fear any hurricane? (my life was a storm since I was born)

Evan Buckley has always dealt with big emotions. However, none on the positive scale. Maybe for once something will change. 

-

Evan Buckley could count the number of people he’s felt truly loved by on one hand. His most confident one was easily Maddie, followed by Bobby, Christopher, and Jee. He noticed how half of that list consisted of people without fully developed frontal lobes, and he fears it would be shortened once the children came of age. He was too young to remember Daniel, but he likes to think he would have loved his older brother, however, that isn’t enough evidence to be added to the list. So for now, Evan Buckley is loved by four people. He notes how his parents should be on that list. Key word: should. The sinking realization he had when his mother looked at him with such disgust at Maddie’s dinner table quickly removed both of them from his mental list. A thick black line crossed over their names. He tries to not eat off Maddie’s table anymore, the mood sours the food. 

More under cut

Of course, the 118 loves him, however it often feels conditional. When Buck messes up, he feels like a wounded dog being called bad. Sometimes, he feels like he isn’t allowed to make mistakes with them. His rationale doesn’t allow him to believe that many people could love him, it isn’t right. The 118 care for him, they like him, but Buck doesn’t think they love him. At least, not in the way his list of four do.

Previous relationships were nothing past the surface for Buck. An attempt was made with Abby, but that resulted in him being left high and dry, forcing himself to stare through glass doors at the airport, watching her walk out of his life with nothing in her heart for him. 

He was told ‘never to cross the glass doors.’ He still hasn’t. 

Evan Buckley had since then given up the idea that he was lovable. It was different with children, different with Christopher and Jee. To them, Buck was a superhero. They were too young to carry his baggage, to see the scars littered across his chest and heart, and too young to see him for the broken man he pretends not to be. Buck loves them both, but the fear that one day they will truly see him frightens him. 

That is what Evan Buckley has told himself. That is what Evan Buckley knows to be true. That is what Evan Buckley believed… until Tommy kissed him in his kitchen. 

“Are you with me?” a voice asks as it snaps him back to the present. In the darkness, illuminated by only a bedside lamp, Tommy lays on his side, hand resting softly against Buck’s cheek, cradling his face. “You went somewhere, just now.” 

“I’m just trying to wrap my head around what you just said,” Buck whispers, words only for him and Tommy to hear. He’s never felt so warm, so close, so safe. It’s such a 180 from his previous relationships. Buck equates some of that to the fact that this is his first time with a man, but it goes deeper than that. Right here, with Tommy, feels different than the rest. He’s always known that. From the moment Tommy first kissed him, Buck knew it would be different. 

“Did I say it too soon?” Tommy says, and Buck stops thinking to study his face. Chiseled, and strong, with his stubble that pokes the pillow Buck can’t help but be mesmerized by him. Was this what it felt like, to be held? Buck wouldn’t know, no one had ever wrapped their arms around him and told him he was safe. He’s been that person for many people, but sometimes a man wants to fall apart. 

Buck often wants to fall apart.

“Did I ever tell you about my brother?” he asks, avoiding Tommy’s question. “I thought it was just you and Maddie?” Buck shakes his head and breathes as he repositions himself between Tommy’s arms. He doesn’t even have to ask as Tommy wraps his biceps around his chest, placing his hands over his heart. 

“He died before I could remember him.” Tommy tightens his grip around him, securing him in bed. “I never knew about him till a few years ago. Turns out it was cancer,” he stops. That word, cancer, makes the situation all the more real. Not some blaze of glory death like a lighting strike or meteor ball, but the slow painful thief of life that Buck couldn’t stop. He doesn’t know why he’s telling Tommy this, he just wants to. It’s not him looking for pity, or words of comfort. He just wants Tommy to know everything he can about him, because selfishly, Buck wants the same. The good, the bad, the nightmares that haunt him, Buck wants to hold Tommy’s heart and soul in his hands. 

Not many people know about Daniel, none of his exes do, and maybe that’s why he wants to tell Tommy. He wants this to be different. He wants it to count. 

“Do you miss him?” Tommy asks, making Buck think. Can he miss someone he didn’t know? Was it possible? He recalls how Bobby often misses God, so it must be. “Sometimes. I think so. When I was struck by lightning last year, my coma left me in this weird dream, almost like a parallel universe,” now he can’t shut his mouth. Not even Bobby knows about it, but something about the low glow of the lamp and Tommy’s cologne that lingers on the sheets makes Buck want to spill his guts.  “It was all kinds of messed up, but the one thing that brought me joy was seeing my brother. He was all grown up and…” his voice cracks a little. 

‘This is so stupid’, he thinks. ‘Tommy does not want to hear about my dead brother right now. I need to stop avoiding the elephant in the room’

“Did it make you happy to see him?” Forcing his voice to straighten out, Buck lets out a shaky breath as he looks up at Tommy and sees him actively listening. “Yeah, it did. It felt like I had someone who truly loved me. I know it sounds weird, but I’m not close with my family, aside from Maddie,” “That’s not weird,” he feels Tommy’s voice get closer as he nuzzles his face into the crook of Buck’s neck. God, everything about him consumes Buck. He never wants him to let go.

“It sounds like you haven’t always had it easy,” Tommy says between kisses on Buck’s shoulders and neck. “But I meant what I said,” the kisses stop and Buck is spun around to face Tommy. “I love you, every part of you,” he pauses and looks at Buck, truly looking at him for a minute before saying, “and whatever baggage you're willing to let me carry for you, I will.”  

‘It’s too much’, Buck thinks. However, when in his life is it not? He’s never had it easy, he doesn’t think he ever will. Since he could walk, Buck’s life has been nothing short of a storm. He can barely count the number of people who love him  and he has much less wins in his arsenal as well. So maybe, just this once, he shouldn't be afraid. This feeling, this ever-consuming feeling he gets when he hears Tommy speak, will never go away. He doesn’t want it to, it’s for once something he wishes to hold. Looking at his eyes, then down to his lips, Buck tries to reciprocate. The kiss is softer than usual, tender in ways unfamiliar to Buck. Unfamiliar but not unwanted. 

“No one’s ever offered that before,” he says. “Then let me be your first and last, because you are something I’m sure about you,” Tommy says, pressing another kiss to his lips in a manner somehow more gentle than before. Buck wants to cry. 

Halfway through another kiss, Buck realizes he should probably answer him. “I love you, too.” Maybe it’s not as scary as he thinks. His list grows to five.

[cyb3rtarot]

Pick a Pile: Message From Your Inner Child + How You Can Nurture Them

Disclaimers: choose the pile you feel intuitively drawn to; you can choose more than one! Take what already resonates and leave anything confusing or stressful. Readings are not replacements for professional advice. I used a mix of tarot, oracle, and my intuition.

pile 1->pile 2

pile 3->pile 4

░░░

Pile 1

Message [Justice||nine of hearts rx, king of pentacles, nine of wands rx, three of pentacles rx]: hi pile one! Your inner child wants to express feelings of dissatisfaction or being stifled. Many of you are in a good place financially/with work, at least compared to where you used to be. This came from working very hard without much support from others—maybe even being hindered by others. Other people might look at your life and wish they had it, but your inner child does not seem fulfilled by whatever your position is. I don’t sense ungratefulness, but it does seem like your inner child is more interested in something “deeper” or more meaningful than your physical reality is providing. If you’ve had to claw your way out of hard situations, your inner child seems to be looking for some kind of justice or retribution regarding that. You may feel like you deserve more happiness after what you’ve had to go through, or want people who have done you wrong to be punished.

How you can nurture your inner child [the fool, the emperor, king of pentacles rx, three of swords rx]: a more proactive approach to finding meaning and happiness in your life will nurture your inner child. You might be used to going with the flow—especially if you’re materially comfortable or seeking such a lifestyle. Remember that you have the power to initiate new beginnings; you don’t have to stay the same! Give your inner child space to grow and discover what feels right to them, even if it doesn’t make sense to others. Don’t force yourself to remain in an unhappy spot when there are changes within your grasp. Uncertainty is a necessary part of life. There’s also a big emphasis on balancing your work for outer stability with this search for inner happiness; perhaps some of you unnecessarily overwork yourselves which leaves little time for other things. 

For some, this soul searching may involve letting go of past hurts. I’m not trying to force you to forgive others, but to identify how your current reality has formed as a response to pain, and how you can choose to respond differently.

Extra details: isolation, loneliness. Past betrayals and enemies. Being “self made,” supporting oneself. Not being seen and understood, wearing a facade/mask. Music as solace, singing, pop stars (Ariana Grande again lol?). Balance. Being the tough kid, defending yourself. Paying your own way through school. Aggressiveness. Continuous conflict with colleagues or family, unhappiness at work. Wanting to leave a “good” job, or wanting to “run away” (some of you may be daydreaming about “drastic” action, like suddenly quitting and going on a long trip, far away from everyone you know).

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Pile 2

Message [the star rx, seven of wands rx|| nine of swords, the star, four of pentacles rx]: hi pile two! There is a lot of past hurt and trauma in this pile, and your inner child is highly encouraging healing/shadow work. Your inner child is wanting you to lower some of those internal walls so those uncomfortable emotions and memories can be processed. If you feel you need someone like a professional to help you, that is absolutely okay. Healing is hard, trauma is messy, and the “despair” in this pile seems particularly heavy.

How you can nurture your inner child [two of hearts, the tower rx, queen of pentacles rx, the lovers, six of cups rx]: a major focus for your healing journey is examining how past hurts—especially in relationships or childhood—are projected onto present day relationships. You may have developed certain traits or behaviors to survive the past, but now they block you from experiencing the intimacy your inner child craves. This is not to say you should compromise boundaries, but know that intimacy and vulnerability themselves are not the enemy. Thinking or acting like they are can even be a way of self-blaming, as if you not needing love would have prevented others from being toxic or abusers. Examine how past patterns can lead to current self-sabotaging, and also give yourself grace if you feel like you made a mistake. Learning how to navigate relationships of any kind is hard, and trauma can make it harder! Know your inner insecurities are not reflective of the relationship, how others see you, or the truth. If you do wish to work on some aspect of yourself or your healing journey, it’s very much within your capacity.

Extra details: fruit is significant, maybe nostalgic memories of someone cutting or giving you fruit growing up? A house with a tile or distinctive roof, roof decorations. The quiet/shy kid. Feeling like you’re falling apart. Clumsiness. Alone. A lot of yelling and hurtful words (particularly in the past). Childhood or domestic trauma. Catastrophizing. I feel like a lot of you are in a romantic relationship that is triggering anxiety. Practicing healthy communication with your partner may be one part of the healing work mentioned above. I also feel like a lot of you jumped from a very toxic home into a very toxic relationship as you came of age; a current relationship may be difficult due to this pattern that developed.

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Pile 3

Message [ the hermit, the fool rx|| Queen of cups, the chariot, justice rx, ten of pentacles rx, the hanged man rx, the tower]: hi pile 3, your inner child had a lot to say! You might repress them a lot. They want you to know you are living with old mindsets and approaches that are no longer aligned with you. You have a very large inner, emotional world and self awareness, but you don’t let this shine through to the outside. There’s a big nihilistic vibe of just going through the motions and accepting your lot—even when you’re miserable—and even when there’s changes you can make. An imbalance exists between the energy directed towards your mind versus the outside world. There’s a sense of solitude and a “what’s the point?” approach. However, there’s also a sense of restlessness. Your inner child is feeling stifled by this lifestyle; they want to come out and experience enthusiasm! It seems major changes are present or coming in where this can be addressed.

How you can nurture your inner child [the lovers rx, king of swords, knight of wands rx, the emperor rx]: your inner child is encouraging you to embrace excitement for life. It feels like your nihilistic or apathetic approach functions as self-punishment by denying your desires. You’re aware of which things are not working for you anymore, but you’re avoiding tough conversations or decisions. Your inner child wants to break free and to go after what gives them joy; they do not want their emotions to be judged, repressed, or punished. Some of the self awareness you’ve developed in your inner world can be used to help navigate the disappointments and uncertainties of life. You have to wade past these things to reach the treasures in your journey.

Extra details: restlessness, emo (some of you were in middle school), quiet, hurting, simmering anger, Boulevard of Broken Dreams by Green Day, taking an analytical approach to emotions, singing, not being allowed to express emotions growing up. You might say “perhaps” a lot. Water, wanting to live in or visit a location close to water.

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Pile 4

Message [seven of wands rx, king of hearts, the hermit, strength rx, queen of swords|| queen of pentacles, queen of cups rx, five of cups rx, death rx]: hello pile four! The focus of your message is healing vulnerability. You guys have had to be strong by yourself for a long time. For those working on spirituality, it feels like that was the focus of this period. This “hardened” time can come to a close and give way to a new era where you’re more able to face feelings and express them authentically. Your inner child is pointing to a past experience (or multiple) you can revisit to do healing work. This may be a very disappointing heartbreak in a past relationship (of any kind). You might have had to end it with someone who was very attached to you and make that first “hurtful” move so you both could move on and heal. Or, you became disillusioned from lack of emotional fulfillment. Most of you have already done a lot of healing/shadow work and reached a more stable place with your inner sense of security. But, there’s difficulty translating this into being vulnerable with others. Due to the amount of emotional work you had to do, you’re leaning into logic and practicality when there needs to be a balance with emotion. Maybe you can easily identify and scrutinize emotions, but you default to this mental approach to avoid actually feeling it or confronting what you’ve repressed—especially if others’ reactions to your emotions have been disappointing. Protecting yourself is necessary and so is analyzing emotion. But sometimes feelings just need to pass through! We can only “think” our way so far into understanding life lessons. Vulnerability with ourselves—and knowing healthy ways to be vulnerable with others—are both healing.

How you can nurture your inner child [the hierophant rx, king of wands, princess of wands, page of cups rx, the devil rx]: you’ve done a lot of  self-discovery and learning lessons on purpose. This has made space for beautiful growth—however, there’s an emphasis on being open to developing with other people, too. You may want to continue working on yourself in isolation, but some growth and self-knowledge can only be discovered through others. You may repress your inner child’s desire for connection—forcing yourself to be independent. This seems comfortable for you, but not necessarily fulfilling. You may not know where to start with allowing others inside your world. This pile is stuck in the middle of not wanting to deal with toxic BS and yearning for something new + authentic. You may really have to push yourself to leave your comfort zone when it comes to others, and remember that your past experiences don’t define every experience you could have. I’m not suggesting to do things that feel wrong to you, but I am suggesting to notice where you squash your curiosity towards others as a defense mechanism. If you remain true to the things you’ve learned during this time, you’ll be much more adept at spotting insincere people and setting boundaries. And, you’ll be equipped for the inevitable challenges that occur when we get closer to others. These aren’t necessarily bad challenges, but for someone who has learned to love being alone, the metaphorical social “dance” can seem daunting. People are lessons, but not everyone is going to be a hard lesson.

Extra details [TW abuse, self harm, suicide mention]: using spirituality as a reason to not feel (example, not letting yourself feel disappointed because “that’s how it was meant to be”), likes to rhyme or make puns a lot, tendency towards being nonchalant/apathetic, trying to “think” emotions away, not knowing how to stop being so independent. Spiritual, wise, eccentric/enigmatic, self-assured. “Nice” relationships but very few “deep” relationships. Wanting to be friendly but getting alarmed when someone want to be friendly back lol. May have been in a relationship with a very imbalanced power dynamic; someone may have had the power to punish you? In & out the hospital as a child or a very big medical incident. Working in medical (specifically getting nursing) or as a coach, trainer. Surgeries & surgical scars (especially emergency surgery to save your life), medical implants & devices, physically disabled. SH scars. Past attempt on one’s life. Unwilling to feel emotion in fear of getting swept away by them. Stoic on the outside, emotional inside. Always trying to “solve” your emotions

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[practically-an-x-man]

ok y'know what. I'm tired of all the same questions in ask games so I'm taking matters into my own hands

OC/Writing Art Asks

For the character:

Pencil: does this character have any "sketchy" habits? Have they ever broken the law? Do they regret it?

Pen: what's one minor moment your character regrets? A small mistake, but something they "can't erase"?

Paintbrush: How often does your character "brush over" conflict instead of facing it head on? Is there something specific they don't like to face, or do they avoid conflict as a whole?

Marker: what's one thing your character would never tattoo on their body, even if they were paid a million dollars for it?

Crayon: what was your OC like when they were four years old? Were they loud? Shy? Were they the resident "weird kid" or did they get along with others their age?

Colored Pencil: if given the choice, would this character splurge on an expensive (but potentially worthwhile) branded product, or buy a low-budget alternative even if the quality suffers?

Copics: what is this character's most expensive habit or hobby? Do they ever feel guilty about the money they spend on it?

Graphite: what's something decently common that your character does in a unique or different way? (like how graphite is present in all pencils, but not everyone uses pure graphite)

Charcoal: share any unique physical features about this character that are not scars or tattoos.

Tortillon: does your OC "blend in" with the people around them? Physically? Metaphorically?

Pastels: Give me three colors that best represent your OC. Now give me three colors that your OC likes best. Is there an overlap?

Chalk: what was one activity this character enjoyed with their sibling(s) as a kid? If they don't have siblings, what they did with their neighborhood friends

Eraser: what's one way this character has changed over time? Either over the course of their story, or over the course of designing them as an author.

Palette: list four of your character's primary skills, then share at least two ways these skills might blend or overlap

For the work:

Starry Night: are there any scenes in this work that take place at nighttime? Is this significant, or just the passing of time?

Mona Lisa: oh, it's the fanfic writer's favorite word. Do a find-and-replace on the word "smirk" and share any lines that pop up.

The Scream: are there any moments in this work that you think could scare a reader? Are there any moments where the characters themselves are profoundly scared?

Persistence of Memory: are there any moments in this work where a character's memory plays a strong role? Either an individual memory, or simply a character's ability to recall the past.

Girl With a Pearl Earring: are there any moments in this work where a character's clothing or accessories play a major role?

The Kiss: share your favorite kiss scene from this work. If there's no kiss scene, share your favorite moment of intimacy (romantic or platonic)

American Gothic: what's one relationship between characters in this work that you think people wouldn't expect? (i.e., how the people in American Gothic are not married, they're the painter's sister and dentist)

Guernica: look through a few of your imagery/descriptions in this work. Are they generally straightforward, or are they more "abstract"?

Wheatfield with Crows: are there any scenes in this work that involve birds? Do the birds play a definitive role, or are they simply part of the setting?

Woman with a Parasol: are there any moments in this fic that feel "blurry" to you? Is this a stylistic choice, or would you go back and clarify the descriptions if you were given the chance?

A Sunday Afternoon...: pick one "little moment" from this fic. How representative is it of the fic's tone and story as a whole?

Creation of Adam: choose one character that is not present at the beginning of this work. How did you introduce them into the story?

The Swing: are there any moments in this fic where the characters get to slow down and have fun? If not, why is that?

The Last Supper: does this fic incorporate any symbolism based on religion, theology, or mythology? If so, give an example.

For the author:

Paper: Who do you feel is your most two-dimensional or underdeveloped OC? Why is this? (including those that are still in development/haven't been written about yet)

Canvas: Do you ever "prep" your fics with outlines or warmups before you start writing, or do you just dive right in?

Graffiti: Have you ever had to research something that felt illicit or illegal for a fic? What was it?

Photography: What's one moment from any of your fics that you feel is preserved in your memory?

Clay: Do you usually take time to "sculpt" your OCs before you write them, or develop them as you write?

Film: Which one of your fics do you think would work best if turned into a movie? Who would direct it?

Adhesive: when you write, do you usually "stick" to one character or story for a while, or bounce around various characters and ideas?

Cricut: are there any characters you've had to "cut" from a story? Are there any moments/chapters/stories you've had to "cut" entirely?

Felting: how often do you include soft moments when you write? Do these moments play a role in the main plot, or do you include them as an escape from the rest of the story?

Weaving: are your works typically similar to one another? Pick two works, and share one similarity and one difference between them.

Finger Painting: share a small snippet from your earliest work (or the earliest that you can get back to). How would you rewrite it today? Either share the rewrite itself or just describe how you'd do it.

Creative!: free space! share something you've been dying to share about your writing! Could be an OC that never gets the limelight, a moment you were proud of, or anything else you'd like to share

[that-ari-blogger]

"Do It" (Destiny Part 2)

When you interact with a lot of similar media, you tend to notice patterns and recurring tropes. Most notably in this example is the final season darkest hour.

Typically, when a series wants to ensure that the stakes are higher for its final arc, it will end the previous in a very dark place. Avatar: The Last Airbender does this, and I just covered The Owl House doing a very similar thing.

But She-Ra has a lot more to it than just the singular convention. This is an incredibly cerebral series with a ton of moving parts. So, for the season four finale, I would like to examine a few of them, and what they do for the story.

Let me explain.

SPOILERS AHEAD: (She-Ra and the Princesses of Power, Marvel’s Cloak and Dagger, A Christmas Carol)

Context is important, and stories have an understated ability to draw together disparate elements into a cohesive entity through a consistent theme.

Here, that is twofold. The series as a whole has been about the cycle of abuse as portrayed through tragedy, specifically in its antonymic relationship with genuine love. But Destiny Part 2 zeroes in on the chronological geography of this. As in, there is a distinct sense of time in this episode, and a discussion of the past and future and their impact on the present.

Everything in this episode revolves around these two ideas, and so everything must be analysed through those lenses.

Starting with the runestones, which are an idea original to the 2018 reboot.

“It’s like…”

“…connection.”

Throughout this season, we have seen the princesses glow when they achieve camaraderie, and that glow is near identical to that of the planet balancing itself. Near identical. The runestones are shown to be more powerful than regular camaraderie.

We don’t actually know the origins of the Runestones, with the exception of them being native to Etheria. The Legend of the Fire Princess graphic novel has one in it that was created by the first ones, which implies that the others were not. But I am here to talk about the main series. (If you want me to discuss the book or any other supplemental media, my ask box is open).

As such, I find it important that the power of the Runestones, much like that of She-Ra, predates the First Ones, which means that it was not theirs to use.

In my previous post about She-Ra, I commented on the First Ones as colonialists, and this adds to that symbolism.

The First Ones co-opted something that was, by all accounts, sacred to the people of Etheria, or at least of significant cultural value. It was repurposed into a weapon that would, as a side effect, wipe out the planet. Cruel and uncaring. The First Ones viewed Etheria as a tool that could be cast aside when it was no longer of use, a worthy sacrifice.

In terms of our themes, this is most definitely abusive behavior, and that continues into the cyclical nature of that abuse.

I have also discussed how it doesn’t matter if the First Ones were the aggressors in their war or not. If the First Ones were under siege, then they felt the only way to defend themselves was to inflict more suffering on bystanders. The abuse they received turned them into the villains of this season. But I think the most important moment for this part of the episode is this:

In her desperation and powerlessness, Glimmer tries to destroy the Runestone.

The anger at being used has been turned against the First Ones, but they are using the culture of the people they have colonized as a shield. To get to us, you need to stab yourself.

It’s forcibly disconnecting the people from the symbol of their culture, metaphorically and literally breaking their connection and leaving them weak and in a place of vulnerability.

This wasn’t even intentional. I don’t think the First Ones sat down and schemed about how, when this master plan goes off, there will be one princess who tries to break the runestones. It was a side effect. All of this was a side effect.

The main role of this was to destroy a different force entirely, Etheria was never part of the equation. The First Ones were fighting a war with someone else, and Etheria was just a sacrifice that could be made.

Glimmer is technically surrounded by the corpses of her enemies here. That is the context for her statement that "we are the good guys". Yes, they are robots, but Emily is sentient, so...

Abuse is fundamentally selfish. To the abuser, it isn’t about the victim, it’s about the anger and often pain that needs to go somewhere. It’s about the power and control. The victim was just there. My feelings matter, my heart, my obsession, my anguish. You are a convenient scapegoat.

It is important to understand that this mindset is built on a misunderstanding.

There is a reason for it. Of course there is. Everyone has a reason for their behavior. That’s what the cycle of abuse is. You get so wrapped up in your own mind that other people stop existing, and you are left with empty shells around yourself. But having a reason does not make you right.

There are real people around the abuser and the abused. She-Ra is a series about those real people, hence why it is so human in almost every character. It is about the real people who are hurt by someone else’s drama, the real people who get burned by being too close, the real people who get caught in the crossfire.

The Runestones are symbolic of those real people en masse. Used as pawns, corrupted, and destroyed.

In that sense, they also relate to the episode theme of time. They are monuments of a distant past and a history even greater.

At the risk of oversimplification, Runestones in the real world are a Scandinavian concept that emerged before the Viking age but gained traction during it. The vast majority were dedicated to the fallen, but a fair few discussed everyday life and stand as monuments.

They also look nothing like those in She-Ra.

In She-Ra, the Runestones are aesthetically just gems and crystals that are big and look cool. So, why go with the name?

First and most obviously, it sounds magical. Runes sound magical and as any architect will tell you, a large part of any creation is the emotions it inspires. If you want a story about magic, saying “this is a glowing crystal called a runestone” is an easy way to do that.

Although, that does bring up an interesting meta question of why there is magic in this story? As in, what does it do for the themes?

I plan on delving into this question in more detail in a later post, so you have that to look forward to.

For the moment, however, the She-Ra has made a point of connecting magic to nature, and so the name “rune-stone” entangles magic to the ground itself. It is the bedrock of these civilizations.

The other reading is that the stones themselves serve as runes, which are in turn a form of written language and communication. They are the words of people long gone, although crucially, their descendants are still there.

This is how culture exists in a very real sense. Not merely through written words, but through the language and communication itself. Mythology and religion, history and philosophy. Word of mouth and art. Culture is not a static thing of aesthetics but a dynamic manifestation of shared ideas, and sometimes it dies out, but usually it just continues and evolves into new forms. It is everything that has come before and every word that is spoken.

I mean that literally. Every single word has a history and evolution that makes up its current form. The word "Silhouette" comes from a French who didn't like to spend money. Language is the manifestation of history and how it informs the present day. It’s part of everyday life, it is context.

The Runestones are that language as a physical manifestation that literally grants power, and the First Ones use them to destroy people. In this way, what the First Ones did was cultural appropriation, and I don't think my opinion is unpopular that this is, in fact, bad.

Moving on to Light Hope.

“Mara. Mara would not want me to… Mara was a traitor. She turned against her people.”

We have seen two sides of Light Hope. The one who Mara befriended, and the one whom has manipulated her way through half of the series. The weapon of war who couldn’t escape. The cycle of abuse come full circle.

We have seen Light Hope get humanised, and then cast that away. But as best we could tell, it was the system itself that overrode her free will.

This line, however, muddies the waters, because it reminds me of another in the same episode.

“People have hurt you, haven’t they? They didn’t believe in you. They didn’t trust you. Didn’t need you. Left you.”

Of all the people to draw a connection to, Light Hope’s dismissal of Mara is strangely reminiscent of Catra’s antagonism towards Adora.

The cycle of abuse hasn’t just happened before on a grand scale with the She-Ras themselves being destined for tragedy, but this specific plot has happened before, and look how it ended up.

Catra has spent the entire story addicted to power like a safety net. She craves being the highest ranked one in the room because it’s safer, but there isn’t much room at the top of the pyramid. You end up alone, and isolated, and with further to fall.

Catra has been trying to claim power like Shadow Weaver taught her, but has ended up like Light Hope. Alone in her tower, scheming, reminiscing, caught up in memory and spite.

This is a warning to Catra. Most obviously, change your ways. But just to be safe, don’t ever cut your hair and don’t ever start wearing white.

Once again linking back to the themes. The cyclical nature of this series is best exemplified by the threat of another season. This is a story that wants to end, to be free, but it keeps coming back to a song and dance.

I mean this as a compliment. This is the only series that makes me fear another season, but stay glued to my seat as I watch and love every moment. The screen protects me from what is happening inside, and the fact this is a story means that I can stop at any time. That isn’t a luxury the characters are given.

The aim of the series is to end.

And it will, that’s the key thing here. Everything ends. The cycle of abuse is not a true circle but a spiral that winds in on itself until disaster.

Light Hope and Mara are the emblems of a previous cycle. Their story ended in tragedy they couldn’t avert and that left naught but shattered people and places in its wake. Light Hope was Catra, she was someone who was happy. But now she is an instrument of the system that drove them apart, unable to understand or take comfort from Adora until the end, begging for Adora to "do it", begging for death. This is who Catra will be.

Don’t believe me? There is only one other person who uses the words “do it” in this episode. Can you guess who that is?

“What are you waiting for? Do it. Looks like we're both alone, Sparkles.”

There is, however one majour difference between the old story and the new. This rendition isn’t over yet.

I haven’t seen nearly as many Marvel films and TV series as I should have. I saw Infinity War and End Game, I saw Thor: Ragnarok, and I watched Moon Knight, but other than that, I mostly never cared for the series as a whole. I didn’t dislike the films, I just never cared that much.

Which is honestly weird, because I read comics on the regular, and got into comics through Marvel. I started with a Spiderman one shot in the Clone saga, and while I wouldn’t call myself a comic nerd by any stretch of the imagination, I was enough in the spaces to know who Jeff the Land Shark was before Marvel Rivals was a thing.

The reason I bring this up is to recommend a series I left out of the above list, Joe Pokaski’s Cloak and Dagger, which ran from 2018 to 2019.

I had read a few comics featuring the eponymous heroes before I saw the series, so I knew vaguely who these people were, but this was one of those series that got me at just the right time to leave a lasting mark on my psyche.

Most notably, this is the place from which I get the phrase “There’s always a point of no return. It’s called the end.” But there’s a little more to it.

The premise of this series is that Luisiana is always saved by two kids, and that one of them will always die in the process. Tyrone and Tandy (Cloak and Dagger respectively) spend the series trying to find a way to escape this cyclical tragedy.

The season one finale will always break me, because we see the moment when Tandy comes the closest to being the one to die, and it’s not in an overly violent fashion, it’s in a phone call.

The two are trapped in a surreal, timeless landscape, and Tandy is presented with a phone using which she can call her deceased father a moment before he dies. She picks up the phone, has a brief conversation, and then the line goes dead. She picks up the phone again and has the same conversation. Again, and again, and again. Just one moment.

Tyrone asks her to leave, she refuses, so he asks her how long she has been there, a question to which she has no clear answer.

If Tyrone hadn’t rescued her, Tandy would have as good as died there and then. Lost to a memory. Lost to the trauma of losing her father playing back to her over and over again.

Cloak and Dagger are played by Aubrey Joseph and Olivia Holt, and while Holt's performance as Tandy in this scene is the showstopper, it would be remiss of me to not mention Joseph's portrayal of Tyrone as he realises what is happening and tries to stop it.

There is always a moment of no return. It’s called the end.

You lose when all hope is lost. You lose when you give up. You lose when you let everything consume you. You lose when you stop trying to escape.

Cloak and Dagger keep getting told that one must live and one must die, and their response is “how about no?”.

Light Hope lost. She became the monster that created her. But that cycle ain’t done for the here and now, Adora and Catra can fix this.

This actually moves really nicely into the third and final element of this episode that I would like to discuss. The title.

Destiny and fate are funny things, aren’t they? They don’t actually mean anything. Not tangibly, anyway. Yes, yes, your fate and your future are one and the same. But that isn’t a fair metric, is it?

Is fate inescapable? Was I fated from birth to write this post? Was my future laid out for me? Or does it work slightly differently?

I am partial to the dichotomy between fate and free will. That being, a person with free will has the autonomy to make their own way in the world and decide their own fate, whereas everyone else is just pulled along by the strings of time. I think this is sweet.

In practice, I have found one way of writing destiny that I like. Nature.

For the record, I am including nurture within this. A person’s nature is just who they are, their history and goals, their fears and hopes.

Specifically, life experiences make up a person. If I find an arachnophobe and I give them a spider, I can be pretty sure how they will react. That is your destiny. It is the path set in front of you by yourself. There is freedom to wiggle within that, but everyone has a set of key components that make up their personality, and in the right circumstances, this can be manipulated.

I could go for the obvious here and talk about how God Of War: Ragnarök leverages this to talk about trauma. I could. It would certainly fit with She-Ra’s discussion of that concept through the cycle of abuse.

But instead, I am going to recommend you the video by Overly Sarcastic Productions (@comicaurora) about that very topic (link) and go further into the past with Charles’ Dickens’ A Christmas Carrol, or more photogenically, the Muppets film of the same name.

“Are these the shadows of things that will be? Or are they the shadows of things that may be only?”

A Christmas Carrol delves into themes of redemption and capitalism, and I will die on the hill that Charles Dickens had a wicked and very dark sense of humour that was brought about by the time in which he was writing. But for the purpose of this post, the book wields the future like a threat.

“Your chains are forged by what you say and do.

So have your fun, when life is done, a nightmare waits for you.”

In A Christmas Carrol, fate is just consequence. Cause and effect. The book is about three ghosts appearing to a miserable old man who thinks he is alone and unimpeachable and showing him multiple occasions when his life was directly impacted by others, for better and for worse, and the effect that his life is having on others.

It opens with a warning from the ghost of Scrooge’s business partner/partners. Cause: Greed. Effect: Chains. Easy one two punch.

It is crucial to me that when Scrooge finds his grave and asks if the future can be changed, the spirit gives no response. It doesn’t give him comfort, but it also doesn’t tell him his future is set. You can try and change your fate. Go for it. If you don’t you will end up here. Alone even in death, but still buried like every other man. There are no coins in your coffin, just memories.

The point of no return is called the end. You decide what that will end up being.

Adora and Catra have been thrust into this story by their natures, and they have been positioned in such a way that can only lead to destruction.

It was in Catra’s nature to take Adora leaving as badly as she did, because she has grown up being told that affection is exclusive and that a person can only care about one other person. She has been taught love in an incredibly dysfunctional way, and she is just a traumatised child, but she’s a traumatised child who is actively wrecking other people’s lives.

Similarly, Adora is a hero in the most self-destructive way possible. She has to save everyone, has to destroy herself for everyone else’s happiness. She is a pawn in a war and she will burn herself to the ground to feel any kind of warmth and it will kill her.

It is these two’s destinies which clash. The cycle of abuse is a spiral that leads to destruction. The tragedy is tragic. So, what do?

To change your fate, you make the decision to change your nature. An arachnophobe can overcome their fear, Scrooge could become a charitable man, Adora and Catra can escape.

If we lean back into the path metaphor. Your nature is a road that itself is moving towards a destiny. If you try and get off it, you will fall over. But you can reach the edge. You can break free. You can start moving in a different direction.

It is always possible to change.

Before I finish up, I want to discuss Horde Prime’s introduction, because he is fantastically incurious in a way that leans into what I have been saying about the inherent self-centredness of abuse.

“You have forgotten who you are. You truly think you are worthy to stand beside me, could be equal to me?”

If Horde Prime was reading Hordak’s mind, he would have seen the portal and the source of the energy reading. He would have been curious as to its use. But no, he projected.

It didn’t matter what Hordak did, it would never have been enough. The fact that he gave himself a name was sufficient to warrant animosity. Prime didn’t need a reason, he needed an excuse to show off his power to Glimmer, but also to himself.

Side note here, Horde prime is played by Keston John, who also plays Darius in The Owl House, and has a voice that can melt butter.

I say this because he turns that off like a switch as he shouts down the powerless Hordak. That grace and smoothness is gone for a horrible growl.

This tiny little gesture as Prime draws back his hand before he strikes. He's deliberately offering Hordak grace and kindness, deliberately making it clear that they were an option and he chose violence. He is giving hope so that it stings even more when he takes it away.

Which presents a question: Is Horde Prime actually put together? Is the snarling monster a tool that he uses? Or is it the real man? Does the distinction matter?

Prime has to be told about the weapon. He doesn’t think for himself, he just coasts off everyone else’s misery.

This man is a physical threat, sure. We have seen that in previous episodes. But here he establishes himself as a thematic force in the narrative. He is an abuser, he is a manipulator, he is selfish.

Horde Prime is terrifying.

Final Thoughts

I had meditations about Arcane and Shakespeare in this that I had to cut because this is one of the longest posts I have ever written.

I want to stress that She-Ra as a series didn’t go places. It didn’t cover new ground as it progressed. Episode two of series one shows a home destroyed by the trauma of a war and the psychological damage that the cycle of abuse can do to a person. She-Ra started here, it just got blunter as the characters got more and more wrapped up in their own heads. Eventually, the show literally wrote its themes on the walls.

This is a tragedy desperately trying to happen. That’s what’s so compelling about the final season yet to come. The character’s have one last moment to get their arses off that road to the end of the world.

Last chance. Last stop. The point of no return is called the end.

Next week we are diving straight into season five, so stick around if that interests you. Let’s do this thing!

Previous - Next

[coolbeesbro]

TGOFC Leshy Facts (Chapter 6 Spoilers)

There's so much that goes into each character in my au, and the last chapter I dropped had a bunch of lore for Leshy's character, and I just felt like compiling the minute facts that might be overlooked in light of the story that genuinely bring me joy.

Unlike the other siblings, Leshy was just a regular chaser worm who was evolved into something more human (even though humans aren't a thing in this universe, I can't think of a term that would convey the same thing here) through the power of the Green Crown. The others were like regular people already capable of complex thinking, bipedal etc., who came to find their crown one way or another (I'll go into them more in their own posts), so in comparison Leshy is more unpredictable and overall feral in his actions and mannerisms. He also still has a strong connection with the worms and can communicate with them perfectly fine, giving him an advantage over prior gods of Chaos who couldn't control them at all.

Some examples of him being more animalistic is the fact that he's being prone to biting just because, and still having urges like burrowing underground being more comfortable for him than sleeping in an actual bed, and randomly making strange little noises. He also thinks nothing about eating through and ripping up the floorboards in his house, and has Heket bring him spare lumber to store as a "little snack" when he's too lazy to get up and go to the dining hall and raid the kitchen. Every sibling's homes are reflective of their personalities, and where Heket, Kallamar, Narinder and Shamura have furniture and decor, Leshy's home, though normal looking from the outside, is literally just an empty room with the majority of the floorboards ripped up or gnawed through, looking like a storm ripped through the inside of his home. He has no furniture or decor outside of a few potted plants gifted to him by Tebryn (au yellow cat).

Another thing, and this might be controversial, is that he's actually terrible when it comes to taking care of plants. Almost every plant he owns is either dead, or on the brink of death, but he doesn't really know it since he can't see for himself that they are. He use to be good at it, but that ended up being 100% the Green Crown's power. Having not been capable of thinking past basic animal instincts prior to becoming a god, he can't fathom that he might not actually know what he's doing. Tebryn teases him lightly about it, but also doesn't have the heart to tell him that the plants in his window died months ago. There's one plant that's hanging on by a thread, an overwatered camellia bonsai that's now really just a stick in dirt with 3 leaves, and it only stays alive because Tebryn repots and tends to it when Leshy isn't paying attention. That doesn't stop Leshy from attempting to unintentionally over-trim the tree, much to Tebryn's dismay.

When he was still just a baby up until his toddler years, he would often just run around naked (only covered by leaves) and Heket would struggle to just get him to keep at least his cloak on (there'll be a flashback to a scene like that later on). One second he would be fully clothed, she would look away for just a moment, then look back to see Leshy running away on all fours with his clothes in a trail behind him. Now, if not for the fact that he'd get a lecture from the others on why he needs to stay clothed out in public, he would probably be in the nude 24/7.

As a product of his rapid evolution, his appearance from what chaser worms are in present day is drastically different; since while they evolved over time, he was like a preservation of their past. Like how he burrows into dirt, where they no longer have to due to evolution giving them large horns and a larger/tougher build for protection. Instinctually, he still attaches sticks to his head, which was both a defense mechanism of sorts along with helping with hunting. Being partly burrowed in the ground helped him feel vibrations of things walking near him; and with his head sticking up past the dirt, he looked more shrub-like so predators wouldn't go after him, and also prey would be more inclined to walk near him or use him as shelter, making for easier meals.

I also decided to make him a trans man, because why does Shamura get to be the only trans one (also as a youngest child who's a trans man I decided that my comfort character WILL be trans as well.)? With the help of Kallamar he's able to transition with HRT and other surgeries. Nobody but his siblings know he's trans, and is 100% passing as cis to everyone else. He's also the shortest of all the siblings, followed by Shamura, then Narinder, Heket and Kallamar.

There's definitely more than this, but my god I realized just how long this was getting so I'll end it here unless people want me to make a continuation.

[mybworlds]

Chapter 3

Pairing: Pero Tovar x f!reader (no Y/N)

Summary: You are a princess, you should act like a proper damsel, but you are not and you don't want to be. Luckily, you have an ally on your side.

Warnings: use of you, typical sexism, the main character has female features, but I don't describe her in detail, the image is only meant to represent the moment, nothing else. Fighting against the conventions of the time, the main character wears both women's and men's clothes. Tovar in this story is the protagonist's bodyguard and a knight. Violence graphic. Romantic and sexual tension (?). Age gap.

More warnings will follow in later chapters.

Hey there, I know, I'm terribly late, but I had no inspiration so I preferred not to write this story at all at least until I was sure to give it a proper chapter, or at least I hope so. I don't think this story will have many more chapters, maybe three or four more, but no more. I apologize again for the very long waits and thanks to those who want to support me by leaving a like and a comment.

follow @mybworlds and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics

“Put me down, put me down!” you shout as you and the stranger walk away from the inn.

“Will you stop kicking me?!” a familiar voice blurts out, as you put your feet back on the ground and find yourself face to face with Pero who is looking at you with an annoyed look and a slight out of breath.

“Sorry, I thought it was a guard!” you exclaim, looking around warily and noticing that you have returned to the horses.

“Well, make sure of that next time!” he scolds you, sighing loudly. “And didn’t I tell you to wait for me? Why did you want to do it all by yourself? What did you want to prove?”

“Never mind, I discovered another worrying thing. Yesterday we saw huge quantities of flour, vegetables and other essential goods being brought to the village,” Tovar looks at you perplexed “but my people buy spoiled stuff, so..”

“Where does everything that is edible end up?” Pero completes.

“Exactly. That’s what we need to find out, and we need to talk to my father about that, too. He needs to know what’s happening to our people.”

But he nods, “You would make a fine ruler, mi joven princesa.”

You smile, looking down for just a moment, “I only want the best for my people, I want them to be well and to live at least a peaceful life.”

He smiles back slightly, “Precisely because you are so selfless, you’d make an excellent heir to the throne. Your father should seriously consider the idea that you can reign alone without any prince beside you to instill in you ideas or thoughts that are not yours, thoughts that might make you wither.” he concludes by slightly lowering his gaze "Anyway, let's get out of here and quickly." adds the man gently pushing you onto your steed, while he climbs onto his, the two of you giving spurs and moving away from there. As you walk away, you notice someone pointing at you as if they recognized you.

In the past you’d have liked it because it meant that you were a princess not far from the people, but very present since you often visited the village, but today being singled out means something completely different. Today your own people would sell you for coins and this means that the people are hungry, as well as your father's guards would soon be arriving to patrol the entire village area and the surrounding area.

You and Tovar need to disappear. Your place isn't safe at the moment either. But he told you he knows of another place up in the mountains, it's so cold up there that no one dares to go there. You trust him, he knows what he's doing.

The wind up there is so biting that you can almost feel the cold scratching your skin, you have taken refuge in a small cave with a low ceiling. You and Pero have lit a fire and sat around it, you are shivering from the cold, but you do everything you can to hide it.

“Now we should rest a bit. And tomorrow we'll think about what to do. Together.” He insists on the last word “I don't want any more impulsive actions from you, do you understand, princesa?” adds the man looking for your gaze.

You nod.

“Do you understand?” he insists.

You look at him, "Okay." You reply annoyed. You remain silent for a while, then add, “I didn't mean to run away or do things my own way, I just... I hoped that my people could somehow protect us. I hoped they wouldn't see me as a bargaining chip just to feel good and instead...” you lower your gaze “I'm so stupid.”

“No, princesa. You are not stupid. It's just that your people are hungry, they are desperate. And your closeness in the past is not enough to guarantee them a peaceful future.” you nod looking up at him, you see him fiddling with some gravel “They need more. When this is all over, make sure you're better than your father and be even closer to them.” he suggests, looking you in the eyes.

“Only if you're by my side.” You reply immediately. “You're an excellent advisor, you know? The best. My father should have had you by his side and not that greedy and sneaky being who gives him bad advice!” you assert vehemently.

“You know I'm not good with words, only with the sword.” he reminds you and you smile bitterly. “Only with you is it easy for me to talk.” he adds, “But that's the reality. We both are who we are and nothing can ever change that, even if we don't want to.” You frown as he stands up and walks slightly outside where you notice it's even starting to snow.

You reach him, taking his hand and making him turn towards you with a questioning look, “I decide my own destiny, no one has to impose it on me.” You reply, going to kiss him, but he pulls away.

“No, princesa, no.” he declares.

“Why?”

“Princesa, I.. am just your bodyguard, I am not a prince or your fiancé. And besides, I am much older than you.” he declares forcefully, then turns to stare outside.

You smile bitterly without stopping looking at his profile and without being able to stop thinking about how much he means protection, security, strength to you. You think about how safe you would always and forever be with him by your side, how much you would like to be his, to be with him, to travel with him.

“But do you know who I'm engaged to?” you ask him, making him turn towards you again. “To a man much older than me, much older than you. And do you know what this man has? Only an advantageous position and a very, very large land..

Do you know what my life would be like next to him? What would I do next to him? Nothing. I would only be seen as a woman who has to bear children, if that were to happen... fine, but if I were not capable of it, I would be thrown away and returned to my father who would be ashamed of me.

Do you know what would become of my life then? My father would have me locked away in some monastery for the rest of my days and then hand over all his power to his slimy advisor. Do you want this for me?”

Maybe you overdid it, it doesn't mean you can really undergo this treatment, maybe the man you are supposed to marry will treat you well just because he is old or maybe he would allow you to have relationships with whoever you want as long as you do it with discretion, you don't know it, but just the thought makes you shudder.

“Princesa,” Tovar says looking you in the eyes “I respect you. Only the gods know how much I respect you and how much your safety means to me..”

“Do you only care about my honor and safety?” you press.

He gives a crooked smile, rolling his eyes, “Sometimes I forget how… insistent you can be.”

You smile back, “I was hoping you’d say persuasive.” you say, raising an eyebrow as if to provoke him.

“Go to sleep, princess,” he says, barely touching your arm. His correctness, his rigor and his very training as a knight are something you have always liked a lot about him and which somehow teased your rebellious soul to go beyond your label as a princess. In fact, the first few times your mother heard you speaking frankly to him and using, in her opinion, language that was not appropriate for a princess, she feared she had entrusted you to the wrong hands. Today, however, you are certain that you could not be in better hands.

You look down, though you're not ready to give up. “As you wish. But I think you should sleep too. If we have to figure something out, there need to be two of us.” you add, shrugging your shoulders and assuming a vague, almost innocent expression.

He chuckles, perhaps sensing your provocation, “Yes, in a little while. You start sleeping.”

“Who do you want to come up here in this cold and snow?” you ask him. “And besides, didn’t you say that it’s an almost completely isolated place?”

"It is. Almost completely." He emphasizes. "Rest." He insists, touching your cheek with the back of his hand in a tender gesture.

You have always liked this aspect of him too, the sweetness that he knows how to camouflage well with the rigor and the temper that he possesses make him irresistible in your eyes.

Your mother called him a brute because of his ungallant ways towards the King, towards herself and in teaching you things that you - as a princess - should never have learned. You, on the other hand, thanked him many, many times and you still thank him because if he hadn't taught you how to use the sword, you’d never have defended yourself in that inn and they probably would have already captured you and then who knows what your fate would have been.

So many things would have been different in your destiny if you had never met Pero Tovar. You’d have continued to feel bad, poorly concealing what you really are behind the beautiful words, bows and lace that your mother always forced you to learn, but by now you would probably already be married and unhappy, locked in a cage with bars even thicker than the ones you grew up in and your thoughts would probably have led you to dark and scary endings..

“Close your eyes, princesa.” Tovar says, noticing your eyes still open and your gaze fixed on an unspecified point. “There is no point in thinking about things that have been or will be,” he adds, “we must only look at the present, at the moment. We cannot change the past and the future is still beyond our control.” you watch him thinking about who knows what adventures or things he has experienced and seen and that you will almost certainly never see even though you wishing it.

You let your wildest fantasies run wild in your mind, you imagine strange worlds full of adventures, the most bizarre situations and contexts until sleep overcomes you.

Pero unconsciously wraps an arm around your torso as if to protect you even while he sleeps. But his sleep only lasts a handful of minutes, his mind keeps him alert the whole time.

Ever since he had separated from his friend and companion William, Pero had done nothing but wander from place to place as a mercenary, as a smuggler for his own pleasures, interests and attempts to survive. Then, he arrived at the lands of your father, king of this immense European territory, and the way he was fed and welcomed, pushed him to stay. Then his sword skills did the rest after you suffered an attempted assault by two outlaws.

You immediately struck him. You were never the typical damsel in need of saving. Even in that dangerous situation, you fought tooth and claw to protect yourself, so you told him with a slightly mocking tone as if you wanted to reassure him that you were not the little doll to wrap in cotton wool. He looked at you sideways before giving you an amused look at your arrogance towards danger. Other women in your place would have hidden in their room and cried, they would not have spoken about that episode so fast and loose, but not you.

You were never afraid of him from the first moment, you immediately spoke to him almost as if he were a friend rather than your bodyguard. In fact, this role is not very good for him, especially considering your temperament and your tendency to never respect the etiquette imposed by your role and your family. And he loves to observe how even the smallest change alters your features, how expressive your eyes are to indicate boredom or pleasure in doing something, how your tone of voice is so different when you talk to him or when you talk to someone else.

Tovar never thought of having a woman by his side, until that moment the only ones he had were those who gave themselves to him in exchange for a few coins and to be totally honest with himself he never felt the need for it. The idea of starting a family is not for him. His life is different. The only companion he has ever had at his side has been the sword and that is forever and certainly never betrays.

Then, you arrived and made his certainty tremble because you immediately showed yourself to be so similar and yet so different from him and you almost discovered that you were two sides of a coin, he has always respected you a lot, beyond your cheekiness, and loved you since your first meeting.

Pero smiles when he thinks back to that day...

He knocked a couple of times, as instructed, and waited for your nod, which came in a bored voice, "Come in."

He found you sitting on the stone windowsill of your window, he immediately noticed your very long cerulean dress that cascaded down the wall of your room until it reached the floor of your room and then the tired and bored look on your face.

Your father had told you that from that day on you would have a bodyguard and from the tone and look you gave him, Pero immediately understood that you weren't at all enthusiastic about it.

“Are you the man who will follow me everywhere?” was the first thing you asked him, looking at him with an annoyed expression.

“This is what the King your father commands,” was the man's serious reply.

You sighed as you looked outside again, “My father always exaggerates. I don’t need a little soldier following me everywhere,” you added annoyed.

“I'm sure of it!” was Tovar's only exclamation as he looked at how your room was anything but what he had imagined a princess' room to be, he saw your many beautiful princess dresses on display and then in one corner were some clothes that looked like they were a peasant's clothes “You must be very bored, princess, if I don't dare,” he commented, noticing your face and your tone of voice.

It was then that you turned to him and looked at him with a hint of a smile on your lips, "You are the foreigner skilled with the sword. The man everyone is talking about, the Hispanic." you noted.

“Am I that famous?” he asked, smiling at you askance.

You bit your lower lip gently and then let your gaze wander from his face to his figure, “Your exploits in the Eastern continent are famous,” you replied, then looked up at his face, “You must have seen a lot.”

“Some of these are very common, others are absolutely extraordinary and hard to believe.”

“Try.” You urged, but he didn’t say as much as you wanted to hear him say, “What happens now? Are you going to stand there all day with your sword drawn ready to strike anyone who tries to get close to me?” you asked him almost amused “In fact, I’d like to see my maids run away so I can be free too.”

“Princesa..” he started, but you interrupted him by telling him your name as if to invite him to call you by your first name, but he completely ignored that correction “Princesa, I am not here to see you laugh at other people's misfortunes, but to protect you." he reminded you.

He didn't know you, but your approach was so different from the way your mother the Queen and the King had described you. You certainly struck him right away.

You sighed, “I have no intention of turning you into my jester if that's what you're afraid of.” You reassured him, turning serious and looking outside. “I just want to be free. You know, you who come from a world of freedom, maybe you love what you see here: power, wealth, stability. But I grew up like this... I want the exact opposite.” And in that moment Tovar's heart sank“You may think I am crazy to want things like running across a meadow, brandishing a sword, riding my steed on the beach, instead of one day ruling this nation with my future husband.” you sighed sadly “Forget what I said. Maybe you should also tell my father and it’s better that he doesn't know my thoughts. He wouldn’t understand.”

“It is understandable that he doesn't approve,” Tovar agreed, lowering his gaze for a moment and then raising it again to your sad face.

You nodded, “Okay.” You cleared your throat as if to silence those thoughts that were not in keeping with your status, “Um, what are we gon—?”

Pero interrupted you, “I won't tell anyone what you confided in me.” He reassured you. “I am not your enemy. I was called to protect you and I will, but protection does not mean keeping you in a cage.”

Tovar was then that he saw that sparkle that has never left your eyes when you and him are together. You had found an ally for the first time in your life.

He watches you in the firelight, watches that state of pure bliss that makes you as beautiful as a painting he once stole for a rich lord a few years ago, a slight smile curves your lips upwards and a small lock of hair falls across your face. You are a tender and sweet image to see, you are so different from the strong warrior you want to appear, you are beautiful like an angel.

He who has met so many monsters with beautiful faces, fought against monsters in the flesh, ran away from one place to another, never knew or understood what peace or stability was, but since he met you it's like he started to be serene in some way; he had started to have a routine, a day marked by repeated and regular actions, although with some exceptions here and there to satisfy your rebellious soul and to make sure that he himself was happy in knowing you were happy and satisfied. When you smiled at him after a long ride through the meadows it was as if everything was in its place, as if he had fully fulfilled his duties, as if he was somehow really living in those simple moments with you.

He sees you groaning in your sleep and holding you close to him as if seeking protection in a vulnerable moment like rest. And he knows it well since his whole life he has done nothing but keep his guard up, always ready to bite and scratch to protect himself from everything and everyone. He understands you very well, perhaps better than anyone else.

From the very beginning he felt a strange, unknown warmth invade his chest and the unknown instinct to protect you regardless of the task he had been called to perform. He has never experienced feelings such as affection or love, or rather perhaps in his own way he felt them, but that happened a long time ago when his life was very different...

“Pero,” you mutter sleepily, catching his attention as he sees you wrinkle your nose and open and close your eyes, “is it morning already?” you ask “Did I sleep much?” you groan, dazed.

“No,” he replies, moving away the arm that was holding you closer to him, always respecting your person, “barely a couple of hours.” You hear him sigh, “It’s still night outside.” he adds, touching your forehead with his fingers with disarming delicacy, “Rest a little longer.”

You still look at him half asleep, “Go to sleep too.” You suggest, opening and closing your eyes. “I’m glad you’re by my side, but we both need to be strong.” you say, abandoning yourself to sleep and slightly bowing your head in his direction.

You're right, he needs to sleep too. At least a little.

When the light of dawn caresses the mountains, you are already awake. You have your legs pulled to your chest and you stare at the horizon with a thoughtful expression. A bunch of possible scenarios run through your mind based on what your actions might be in the next few hours. You sigh before turning towards the inside of the cave where Pero still rests. He tried to hold you by the wrist in an attempt to get you to rest some more, but you shook your head and you touched his rough cheek as if to say rest, don't worry about me, then you stood up, while he - you're sure of it - followed you with his gaze as if he wanted to make sure that you don't do anything stupid.

You're a rebel, but you're not a fool. You know you have to think carefully about your actions and decisions, but you also know that you have to talk to your father and run the risk that he will have you arrested or that many lies have been told about you in order to discredit you in his eyes.

A father should believe his daughter regardless, but yours... well, he's never been on your side, he's always wanted to do things his way. And this time you fear he won't make an exception.

The sky has timidly turned a pale blue and you get up determined to face everything, Tovar has also already suggested the way for you to sneak back into the castle, but this time you will go with him, with the one who very quickly became a friend — and in your heart something more, even if you don't have the courage to say it out loud — beyond your bodyguard.

Tovar, after yawning loudly, stretches as he stands up, “So, princesa, what's the plan now?”

“It’s a risky plan, but I think it’s the only feasible one,” he announced.

Pero watches you thoughtfully and waiting for you to continue, but then he completes for you, “You want to go back to the castle to talk to the King, and that's understandable, but I think we should do something else first.”

“What do you mean?” you ask him, placing your hands on your hips and zigzagging your gaze from one side of the cave to the other, trying to figure out what you'd missed.

“We must first understand who or what is starving people. There is certainly an explanation and we must understand which one.”

You smile, “We?”

He nods, “You know I’m on your side and I follow you wherever you go.” He confirms, taking a half step towards you.

You also take a small step towards him, “Are you doing this as a bodyguard?”

He smiles at you, timidly bringing his hand closer to your cheek, “You know I’m doing this as your friend and not out of obligation.” You smile slightly at him. “I’ll help you shed some light on this, I promise.”

“If only you could be my betrothed!” you exclaim, looking into his eyes. “You understand me, you are...”

“No, princesa,” he immediately interrupts you by moving away from you, turning his back on you “what you're saying is wrong and I don't want it.” he continues using a firm tone. Pero loves you, but his heart can't allow such involvement.

It's not fair to him or to you. It's not fair that you get attached to someone like him, nor that he forces you to have to see him in secret so as not to cause scandal.

"I don't want you." he says almost with contempt. "You're a little girl." he adds.

He knows he hurt you because he defined you exactly as you don't want, he belittled you and this has always bothered you enormously. And he knows it, but if it's the only way to make you give up, so be it.

For a while he doesn't even hear you breathing as if you were holding your breath, then he hears you reply with a cold tone of voice, “I don't believe you, but... it's okay.” He hears the bitterness in your tone of voice, but this time – unlike others – he doesn't try to make up for it by cracking a few jokes or taking you to your favorite places, he stands still, silent.

“Let's go.” you use an authoritative tone. Pero has already heard this tone like that of a master who calls his dog and this obediently starts to follow him, only he has never heard it coming from from your lips and it hurts him, but he prefers to be sick himself rather than see you suffer one day because of him.

You both walk away from the makeshift shelter, feeling a weight on your chest and a lump in your throat, but neither of you mentions it. Both of you mount your steeds towards the house of one of your faithful vassal who will surely be able to give you an answer and shed light on the conspiracy that is weighing on your land and perhaps on your own father.

[mavyunivrse]

| Pile 3

What tarot reading is this from? Here.

Wow wow wow. Not to be corny, but you feel like a forest to me lol (not just because of the photo.) You have a lot of depth to you that not everyone notices, willing goes forth to explore, or feels comfortable around. Your apperance may not accurately reflect you.

This was supposed to be a simple four card reading, but sooo many came out for you. Whatever is said here may really need to come out and to think on. And I feel that you may be skeptical of tarot, so I hope you like this reading.

I also want to comment on how comfortable and warm I feel while reading you guys, and I have back pain but it has eased and I haven’t changed my position.

You guys are so incredibly generous, especially in a material sense. I just see you guys welcoming in well trusted or people in need into your home, altering your space for others who don’t have as much as you. You’re probably doing well in business and income so you have something to share. You’re a homebody so making others feel comfortable and at home is your specialty.

Also resting bitch face from you lot? But I think your eyes just completely light up when peope realise you aren’t so intimidating and actually strike conversation with you. I’ve been side tracked.

In the aspect of shifting, you seem genuinely supportive of everyone around you. And you offer help and unique advice and ideas to people in the community. While being so giving, you could be aware of how much you’re putting out there aswell. But I don’t think you receive nothing, there’s seemingly a good balance you have.

Change can be confronting to you and avoided at all costs. And you just seem so bored and stagnant, you might consistently work a lot and feel out of the present moment. Maybe change isn’t so bad? It doesn’t have to be big, dramatic and drastic. And we can adapt easier than we think. If you can adapt yourself and your space for others so quickly, then why do you believe you can’t change it up for yourself just as successfully? Just something to think about if it resonates.

I have a candle next to me as I do this and no matter how much I move, the flame barely budges, probably much similar to some beliefs you have. You have a real backbone and in terms of shifting, it’s your best friend and worse enemy. I think you should really try something different in your routine or sacrifice your need for control. You might have the thought proccess of thinking far ahead and for practicality, but if you want some change in your journey, try a different approach. Try doing the excact opposite of what you’ve been doing and see what happens.

I think that you assume you’ll adapt worse to change than you actually will. I have a lot of faith that once you give something up, you’ll see immediate success.

I think you hate movie with no closure and fear you’ll live a life of underachievement. Very random but I think they relate. Whether you’re aware or not, you don’t like things to be incomplete. It bothers you, doesn’t feel good, and that’s okay. But this concept seems to really weigh on you (any eldest daughters here?) like really weight on you though, I felt a pain on the left side of my head as I even took in the idea of not doing enough. And randomly I had a thought that you constantly check the time? More than the average person, probably four+ times within the same minute. And maybe that something to let go of is letting go of the concept of time. That could sound bonkers but I don’t know, I feel strongly about it. It doesn’t have to be the whole concept together, you obviously have a schedule, but maybe you keep track of when you haven’t shifted, when you last shifted, when the last time was you got so close and felt a specific symptom, the last time you cried, or felt this and that. I say this as a joke but it’s borderlining psychotic lmao.

When we’re constantly keeping track of something, it keeps us in the past (or our emotions at least), and part of why we don’t see success in present time is cause you’re only focusing on past times you saw it. And subconsciously that could be telling ourselves we only see success in our past, and so it keeps us in a cycle of habits we think we can’t break because… well we don’t know what will happen next, we’ve been in this cycle for so long that feels safe to us at this point, so why should it be broken?

Going back to terms of “sacrifice” and “letting go” that doesn’t mean letting go of the progress we’ve already made and to put on the training wheels again, it can be simple acknowledgments of “oh hey, I did this well one time and succeeded,” and move on. That one time doesn’t have to be worshipped and a process to be repeated exactly to see the same or better success.

Anyway, if you’re a crazy time freak, tell me what time it is when you read this. For me its 10:29pm.

(And I’m wearing flourite bracelet right now and I’m not sure why but I fee like one could benefit you.)

Oracle words: dream, resistance, gratitude, skeptical, health, Taurus, withdrawn, receive, effort, transformation, breathe, bittersweet, stagnant, Capricorn, dreaming, longevity, surrender

(^^ if this doesn’t speak for itself…)

Channeled songs: you could like these songs or benefit from listening to the lyrics

Suffocate Me | Angelfish

Norman fucking Rockwell | Lana Del Rey

Don’t Sit Down ‘Cause I’ve Moved Your Chair | Arctic Monkeys

I Dreamed I Dream | Sonic Youth

Heart on Fire | Scott Thomas

The Less I Know The Better | Tame Impala

Bored | Deftones

Lucky | Radiohead

What Was I Made For | Billie Eilish

Warrior | Magic Wands

Lovesong | The Cure

Know Who You Are At Every Age | Cocteau Twins

Thanks for reading! <3

My Masterlist

– ℳ

[jaegeraether]

Sunsets and footballers (Part 1)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (1)

Masterlist (other parts here)

((**3.5k**))

YFN POV

Eyes closed, she took a deep breath in and out. The sea breeze whipped a few strands of hair out of her messy bun. She opened her eyes to look at the last rays of daylight as the wind shifted suddenly. A storm was coming – she could feel it. She smiled and looked up at the darkening clouds. She loved the feeling of the darkness creeping in, and the storm. She was unsure whether it was the potential violence of it, or the uncertainty, but she still loved it nonetheless. She felt comfortable in that space. She looked around the beach and saw nobody. It was so different to Australia, where people would be sitting on the beach regardless of the weather. Her eyes searched the beach for any sign of life, and out of curiosity, she checked the little alcove at the top of the sand - barely big enough for a couple. Sure enough, as had been the past several sunsets, she saw her again. She was a petite thing with a kind face, yet it held a frown and sad eyes. She had her arms wrapped around her shins, her chin resting on her knees. Her clothes, although the right sizes, looked like they were drowning her, and her expensive white trainers were ruined by the sand. She held a thousand-yard stare over the water and YFN wondered what she was thinking about. She looked like the kindest person, with a face that had the potential to light up at the smallest of things.

She had been there every sunset for the past four days – which is how long YFN had been in the city. Who knows the actual number of times the woman had actually been coming to that same spot.

YFN puzzled over her. She wanted to make sure she was okay, but didn’t want to overstep with a complete stranger. YFN knew that look though, and would never be able to forget if she didn’t at least try.

She stood and walked slowly over to the woman, careful not to startle her. As she stopped in front of her, the woman lifted her head from her knees, a small look of surprise and worry crossing her face. Though, the surprise was one of a people-pleasing nature, a look that said she didn’t want to interrupt someone to go out of their day just to speak to her.

YFN sat diagonally to her so as not to block her view or force a close proximity to sit beside her. “Hey, I hope you don't mind me coming over to say hello. I just noticed you seem to be the only person here to appreciate sunsets as much as I do.”

The woman gave a little smile and her eyes softened. “I never really watched sunsets much in my life to be fair. This is a completely new thing to me.” Her accent was unmistakably English though YFN had no idea from where as she was so new to the country.

“Why the change, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I think it calms me. It helps relax my mind.”

YFN nodded. “I get that. I’ve always been a sunset and beach baby, though. It’s just so… peaceful? I’m not sure if that’s the right word.”

“Do you like sunrises as well then?”

“Interestingly enough, no. I really don’t. I can admire how pretty they are, sure. But they give me anxiety more than take it away.”

She rested her chin back on her knees. “Ah. You’re not from around here, are you?”

“Is the accent that bad?”

“You sound quite English to be fair, but you speak a bit different. Where are you from?”

“Australia. Landed about 4 days ago, actually.”

“Australia?! I love Australia. No wonder you’re at the beach. You don’t sound very Australian though.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” She laughed. “I’m YFN.”

“I’m Jordan.”

“Nice to meet you, Jordan.” She smiled and received a genuinely happy smile in return. “To be honest, you’re the first person I’ve had a proper conversation with here, and I hope you don’t take this in a negative way at all, but I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

Jordan’s head lifted again in surprise, again that people pleasing worry that someone was going out of their way to worry about her was present. She opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. YFN filled the void. “I’ve seen you here the past four days and I don’t mean to overstep, I just noticed you looked a little…upset…perhaps, and wanted to come over and offer myself as an ear or a friend, whatever you may need.”

Jordan’s lips twitched and she pressed them together as if she were trying to stop her tears from starting. Her chin quivered and she tilted her head back slightly in an attempt to stop the tears before they began.

“Oh, I’m so sorry Jordan.” She said her name to create a common ground between them. “Honestly, I pride myself on being the most understanding person you’ll ever meet so please, I’m right here if you need to talk, or need a hug. Anything you need. I’m right here.”

Jordan gave a little laugh and used the cuffs of her baggy shirt to wipe her tears away.

“I’m sorry I’m just blubbering away like a child.”

YFN pulled herself up the sand so she was sitting right next to her. “Don’t be sorry at all. I’m right here. To be honest, who else is better to talk to than a stranger you might not see again, hey?”

Jordan smiled and gave another little laugh, though the tears were increasing. YFN took a risk and put her arm around Jordan’s little body. She clutched her far shoulder and rubbed it to soothe her. Jordan leaned into her, her whole body a quivering mess slowly becoming undone.

“I…I…I’ve lo…lost everything.” Her hands went up to cover her face and YFN turned slightly, wrapping her other arm around her also, pulling her close. Her body was so little and fragile. She cried louder, letting herself be held by YFN.

YFN’s heart broke at just how vulnerable and broken she must have been to let a complete stranger hold her as she cried.

“You’ll be okay, Jordan. Let it all out. I’m right here. Just take your time and let it all out.” Jordan relaxed a little and continued to cry, sniffling into her hands. YFN took a few tissues out of her pocket and slipped them into her hands.

“Th…th…tha…” She wiped her eyes and blew her nose. After she calmed a bit, she leaned back, her eyes red and puffy, with an apologetic attempt at a smile. YFN gave back the most heartfelt, empathetic smile she could muster. She kept one arm around her.

“Oh – I definitely needed that.”

“I think you did. I think you need a bit more to be honest, but that’s a good start.”

Jordan blew her nose again and a shiver rippled through her spine. YFN rubbed her shoulder to give her some warmth.

“Would you like to talk about it, or we could sit in silence if you’d like?”

Jordan looked at her. She felt relaxed and like she could be herself around the woman. She felt like a genuine, nice human. Jordan also assumed from everything that she had no idea who she was and what she did for a living. That helped encourage her to open up. “I just feel so sad all the time lately. I don’t get it – it’s not me.” YFN stayed quiet and let her talk. It was healthy to talk. “I lost my partner, I lost my c…club of over 10 years…it was my h…home. I lost my spot on the England squad. I can’t even represent my c…country. I’m just.. really not doing well at the moment, and I don’t know what to do or who to talk to.”

“You’re an athlete?”

Jordan nodded. “Football.”

“Ah, I heard that’s pretty popular here.”

Jordan laughed. “Yeah, we’re a bit obsessed over here to be fair.”

“Do you have a new club?”

“Yeah…yeah I do.”

“Was it your choice to leave?”

“Yeah it was. I wasn’t getting enough play time. I’m a footballer – I need to play. And my ex is at the club, and it was getting hard to see her every day. Leaving was the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make.”

“Did someone help you make that decision?”

“Yeah actually, I had a friend who I was speaking to about it all. She was really encouraging about it all, to be fair. She said leaving was the right choice.”

“Well I don’t know this friend but I’m 100% certain she was right. You made the right choice for your career, and for your emotional health. It may feel like you’ve lost everything, but you need to look at it instead as a new beginning. Because that’s exactly what it is. A new beginning with new friends in a new location. More play time. Time to yourself and away from your ex. This is such a positive step!”

Jordan smiled and her body relaxed as she looked up at YFN. “Really?”

“Really. I promise. It’s only hurting because it’s all so new. Change is scary but it’s a good thing for you. It’s exciting to be honest! So much more opportunity.”

Jordan nodded. “You’re right.” Her lip quivered again. “It’s just so hard at the moment and I feel so alone in all of this.” She shivered as a gust of cold wind swept over them.

YFN rubbed her shoulder again. “Who’s your friend who helped you make the decision? Can you call her to spend the night and help give you some advice and support?”

“L…Lucy. She should be in London for camp at the moment actually.”

“Perfect. Maybe we should call her and you can spend the night. Do you think she’d like that?”

“Y…eah. I just wouldn’t want to ruin her camp.”

“She’s your friend. I’m sure she will prioritise you above all else, hm? Friends come first.” Jordan looked unsure – her people pleasing face on again. “It’s okay to ask for support.” YFN whispered to soften the blow. She rubbed her shoulder. “Can I call her for you?”

Jordan nodded and took out her phone. She brought up the contact and gave the phone to YFN.

“Okay, I’ll be just a minute, okay?” YFN took the phone and moved away from Jordan. She shivered again, her little body not dealing well with the wind. YFN knelt down in front of her and took off her jacket, ignoring Jordan’s protests as she put it on her. Jordan gave her a thankful smile. YFN smiled back and stood, walking just far enough away that she wouldn’t be able to hear, and dialled the number.

“Hey Jords, what’s happening?” Again, another English accent. This one stronger and still just as much a mystery to YFN.

“Hi…Lucy? This isn’t Jordan, it’s YFN. You don’t know me, I only met Jordan 10 minutes ago.”

“Is she okay?” The voice was immediately worried.

“She’s okay. We’re just at the beach. I noticed she’d been coming down here for a few days, and looking a little upset and lost. I just came over to make sure she’s okay and she’s not. I think she’s had a rough time lately with her ex and her club and the England squad she mentioned? Anyways, I think it’s best if she had a friend to talk to and spend the night with.”

“Absolutely. Which beach are you at? I’ll come right now.”

“I’m not sure actually, and I think that’ll be a bit too much for her. She needs support but I’ve noticed she doesn't like the idea of putting anyone out. I think you turning up here might be a bit too like an intervention. She mentioned she didn’t want to ruin your camp also.”

“Argh, Jords.” She sounded frustrated and worried. “Okay, well do you think you can get her to my place at all? I’m sorry to ask more of you.”

“No, it’s okay, I promise. I don’t mind at all. She seems like an amazing person, and so do you, to be honest. I just want her to be okay and know that she has support. It’s really important.”

“Yes, it is. Okay, come to mine. Jords knows the address, and I’ll see you soon, okay? Let me know if you need me to come get you from anywhere.”

“Thanks Lucy, we’ll see you soon.”

YFN hung up and walked back over to Jordan who was zoned out again, staring at the sand. She knelt down and gave her phone back with a smile. “Lucy seems lovely. She’s excited to see you.”

“She’s a good friend.” Jordan smiled in return.

“She wants you to stay the night. Do you know how to get there from here?”

She nodded and paused, looking up at YFN. “Can you come with me?” She asked hesitantly, as she struggled to ask for help.

“Of course I can!” She took Jordan’s hands and helped pull her up. She went to take the jacket off and YFN caught her. “Nuh uh uh. Keep it for now, please. You look freezing.”

They walked up the beach to the stairs and ascended them, the wind getting even more aggressive. Jordan stopped at the top and took her shoes off one at a time to empty the sand out. The wind almost knocked her little body over as she was balancing and YFN caught her before she fell, holding her steady while she put her shoe back on.

“Jeez, you’re like my guardian angel.” Jordan laughed.

“Chivalry isn’t dead when I’m around, mate!” YFN put on a strong Australian accent.

They walked in comfortable silence for a bit, YFN not wanting to push her to talk or to get emotional again. The silence was the good kind though, the comfortable kind. They would brush against each other by accident, setting a pace perfect for them both. YFN looked up at the dark storm clouds above them and smelled petrichor. She loved the smell of coming rain.

“I never asked anything about you. What are you doing here?”

“Are you about to tell me to go back to my own country?”

Jordan laughed. “No, of course not!”

“I’ve always wanted to visit and was sick of waiting for people who always had excuses, so I decided to do it alone. Best decision. Have you travelled much?”

“I mean, I’ve travelled a lot with football, but mainly in Europe. We had the World Cup last year over in Australia, though. That was the best time of my life. The beaches and the weather were incredible.”

“Do you have anywhere else you want to go?”

“So many places, but I always expected to go with Leah, you know?”

“Your ex?”

Jordan flinched, realising she had just mentioned Leah Williamson, Captain of the England Squad and world-wide known celebrity. She looked for a reaction at the name from YFN and didn’t get one. It comforted her that YFN genuinely had no clue about any of them. “Yeah… yeah. We sort of…fell apart. I don’t know how I can love someone else. She was perfect. I was so lucky.”

“What happened?” YFN asked softly. Jordan hesitated. YFN opened her mouth to give her an out.

“She grew. I didn’t. I stayed the same. Same old me. Never getting games, just happy to be here. Watching my friends all get game time and do amazing things while I was only there because I was dating the Captain. She learnt so much and I just… wasn’t enough anymore.” She was crying again, harder. So hard that she couldn’t see where she was going. YFN offered her arm and she took it, letting her lead the way. It started raining then, and it didn’t begin slowly, it came down hard, hard, harder. Big droplets. They were both soaked in an instant.

They continued to walk, almost unable to hear each other in the rain. YFN saw a little alcove and pushed Jordan back into it so she would be dry for a bit. YFN, however, was still in the rain. The alcove was only big enough for one.

“Is it far?!” She almost shouted above the rain.

Jordan shook her head, and YFN could see that the rain had sombered her mood even further. “I lost everything. I lost her. I lost my family. My club. Everything.” She let herself feel her emotion loudly, being comforted by the deafening sound of the rain. YFN’s heart broke and she wrapped Jordan up into an all-encompassing hug. She knew the feeling all too well. Jordan sobbed loudly as she clung to YFN as if she were a life support. YFN rested her chin on her head and rubbed her back. “It’s okay. It’s all going to be okay. I promise. I’ve got you.”

Jordan clung tighter, her whole body quivering with grief. YFN felt Jordan’s phone vibrate and let her continue to grieve, grabbing the phone out. Several missed calls from Lucy, as well as messages. Just as she was about to message back, she called again. YFN held Jordan tight against her with one arm in the little alcove, her other answering the phone.

“Hello?”

“YFN? Is she okay?”

She tightened her grip around the woman. “We’ve just had to make a stop with the rain.”

“There’s a storm. That’s why I’ve been calling. I’m in my car driving around to find you two. Where are you?” Lucy’s voice was worried and commanding.

YFN looked at the store window they were leaned up against. “Daly’s Deli? Do you know where that is?”

“I’m just turning the corner now. I’ll be there in a minute.”

The phone hung up and YFN pocketed it. She placed her arm back around Jordan.

“Everything…everything…Leah…Arsenal…my England squad…my friends…”

“Jordan… you need to stop following this grief. Allow yourself to grieve, yes, but we need to think of the positives also, okay? New club, new people, new opportunities, more play time. It’s scary to start new but it’s incredible. You’re going to have so many new experiences!”

A car quickly pulled up by the curb behind them and a woman stepped out, car still running, and came over. She didn’t seem to care about the rain, her focus on the two women holding each other in the alcove. Lucy’s dark brown hair was up in a messy bun, her clear framed glasses getting soaked in the rain. She wiped them as she hurried over. Her eyes met YFN’s and she paused, blinking. The two shared something, and then their attention shifted to Jordan.

“Jords, I’m here.” Lucy placed a hand on YFN’s back, and Jordan’s head, as if to protect them both in their little alcove.

“L…Lucy?”

“I’m here, Jords. Let’s get you warm and dry. Come on.”

Jordan refused to let go of YFN and they all made their way to the car. Lucy opened the door as the two slid into the back. Lucy got into the driver’s seat and drove the rest of the way to her house. She pulled into the garage where it was dry and they managed to get Jordan out and into the house.

“Alright Jords, straight into the shower please. Warm yourself up. I’ve put some clothes in there for you. I’ll be right out here, okay?”

Jordan nodded grabbed YFN’s arm. “You’re not leaving, are you?.” It was a question that sounded like a plea.

YFN looked at Lucy. “If that’s okay.”

“Absolutely. She’s staying, Jords. Now go warm up.”

Lucy and YFN took a seat at the kitchen bench, both drying themselves off with towels.

“Coffee? Tea?”

“No thank you, I don’t drink either.”

Lucy raised her eyebrows like she was impressed. “She’s going to want you to stay the night, you know.”

“How do you know?”

She rolled her eyes. “Jords has been one of my closest mates for over a decade. I know.”

YFN couldn’t take her eyes off the woman. “I don’t know if that would be appropriate. We did only meet an hour ago..”

If YFN didn’t know better, she’d say that Lucy looked disappointed. “Well, you’re more than welcome. I have a spare room and spare clothes. If you do end up going, at least let me drive you there so you avoid the rain.”

“I love the rain.” YFN almost whispered.

“Me too.” Lucy stated, sharing a look. “But we can’t have you getting sick or walking home alone. Where is home, by the way?”

“Ah, I’m just staying at a hotel in town.”

Her dark eyebrows raised again. “You’re not from here?”

“Australian. Visiting. Arrived four days ago.”

Lucy looked intrigued. “I love Australia. That explains the accent… how long are you here for?”

“I didn’t really set a timeline, I was hoping to be in England for at least 2 weeks, then onto some European countries.”

“Are you travelling with a partner..?”

YFN smiled at the question. “No partner, just me.”

[nho-jungle]

giving gillion a tail: bug's thoughts on triton anatomy

yeah im writing a full thing about this okay let me autism lazerbeam in peace.

so the thing with triton anatomy is that one would assume theyre just human anatomy with some extra bits like gills n stuff. and tails, but we'll go into that in a moment. the problem with this is bone structure. not all fish have bones. sharks don't have bones. instead the support structure of their bodies is made of cartilage. which isnt too different, considering parts of human anatomy are made up of cartilage, but it poses some interesting questions. im no scientist, but i am autistic as hell. so im going to pose a couple of options that are fun to rotate.

the most common depiction of tailed tritons (which i myself have drawn) is some variety of fish or shark. this is aesthetically fun bc of the variety within fish and sharks, in terms of colour and shape, that allows you to get funky with it. anatomically speaking, this would probably be achieved via the tailbone being there, like a monkey, but with the muscle and flesh around it being shark or fish-like. this would all lend to a tail that moves side to side, which would lead to an interesting swimming style that probably wouldnt involve much movement of the legs.

the second thought i had for tailed tritons was seals. seals have very short tails, but as mammals they have the same bone structure as humans. due to this, my initial thought was a second set of hips, so the triton bone structure would look like it had four legs, but the second set of legs would be the tail formation. this would lend itself to a tail that moves up and down, which could probably be utilised in tandem with the legs to create a very efficient swimming style.

however, neither of these ideas take into account one very important thing about tritons:

they're amphibious.

oh but bug, they can have human lungs and fish gills with nothing to do with the tail- silence voice i made up purely to disagree! we are not here to do arts and crafts! we are not gluing random creature aspects together with whimsy and magic! this is real science!

so amphibians. frogs and newts and salamanders and the like.

the amphibian life cycle, in most cases, involves eggs being laid in water and larvae being adapted to an aquatic lifestyle. frogs, toads, and salamanders all hatch with external gills, and develops lungs to breathe air as they grow up. amphibians are very adaptable to their environment, and there are many possible variations among individual species purely caused by outside influence and the area they grow up in.

but what does this have to do with tritons and their tails?

tadpoles

unlike most amphibians, frog tadpoles dont look like the adults. frog tadpoles start out fully aquatic, with external gills. as they grow and develop, they get gill pouches to make their gills internal. they have cartilaginous skeletons (which later develop into bone), lateral line systems (found in fish, used to detect movement, vibration, and pressure under water), and large tails. their lungs develop early. their front legs develop first, and then their back legs soon after.

(oh what about axolotls- axolotls dont have lungs. they are functionally the same as salamander larvae but they never get past that developmental stage. theyre amphibians that arent amphibious.)

im running out of steam for this post but basically what im trying to say is that triton are froglets. this would also make sense for the fact that triton have webbed hands and feet. frogs do too so it would be implemented into the swimming style. bone structure is a whole nother things, especially since both 'mordenkainen presents: monsters of the multiverse' and 'volos guide to monsters' are cowards whos triton designs are just blue people. but working from 'mythic odysseys of theros' designs, who have at least a little bit of flare, i think it's safe to assume that their bones are a little funky. some fun mix of bone and cartilage to have those interesting shapes.

all that being said, i am a big supporter of doing whatever you want forever. i am also just a massive nerd and like to think way too hard about these things.

(shoutout to my dad for assistance with bouncing ideas around, and for being the one to suggest the tadpole thing.)

[dragonzzilla]

Tears of the Kingdom's underwhelming narrative had rich potential

I'll preface this with a confession: I have not played Tears of the Kingdom. As a matter of fact, I haven't played any Legend of Zelda. I simply never had the opportunity while growing up, so my interest in the series has always been satellite. As such, I do not have the perspective of someone who has. My opinions are formulated entirely in what little I have seen or sought out. I'm coming at this with the perspective of an outsider looking in. But I'm not looking for a fight. My aim isn't to bash the new hotness out of jealous spite, or to convince people to feel bad about liking this game that, I've otherwise heard, is really fun. The reason I care, even though I'm not a part of the fandom, is that we all deserved better.

This is a much anticipated sequel to a smash hit from one of the biggest names in the industry, sold at a whopping $70—and having watched for free a YouTube compilation of all the cutscenes pertaining to Ganondorf, the much advertised central antagonist of TOTK, I felt robbed. This was my legitimate reaction:

Disregarding all my other feelings for a moment, I was dumbstruck to see a Nintendo game—released in our year of 2023—use what is essentially the same cutscene four times while explaining the backstory. I recognize TOTK has modular progression, allowing you to reach the Sages in whatever order you please. But once you've seen the first one, the other three will offer you no more valuable information. I'm willing to stretch my suspension of disbelief pretty far, yet even I recognized on first viewing how formulaic the Sage cutscenes are. It wrenched me out of the story.* Hearing different perspectives about the same events can and should be interesting, but the Sages relating these events barely qualify as characters—possessing neither names nor even faces, thanks to their uniform masks of Zonai design...

* I'll acknowledge: Within universe, there is reason enough for the Sages to repeat what is essentially the same story to their respective successors to apprise them of the situation. I can certainly see Link having to sit through the same spiel several times so everyone is on the same page. But it felt really unnecessary as a member of the audience. And unlike their BOTW counterparts, the Four Champions, the Sages don't stick around long enough to endear themselves any further, instead passing their abilities and function onto their successors.

… Which, I feel, represents the Ancient Past Storyline as a whole. Despite the number of bodies involved, no one felt alive. Queen Sonia—this continuity's founding mother of Hyrule, where divine power is explicitly matrilineal—amounts to nothing more than meat for the fridge to motivate the real star of the show, Rauru. Everyone else, including Zelda and the other Sages, are merely bit players in the conflict between him and Ganondorf. But it's a conflict without teeth. Ganondorf displays nothing but a mad, naked lust for power. Opposing him is Rauru, the quintessential Good King and benevolent god figure who would never abuse his power, but would sacrifice it all to seal away the evil invader who killed his beloved martyr-wife. There is no interrogation of the 'gentle' imperialism Rauru represents. His way is textually presented as the only righteous way. The world of this continuity revolves around his legacy and its preservation; anything else is not merely deviant, but indicative of evil. Only someone with the blackest of hearts would oppose this order. The narrative requires Ganondorf to be nothing less than the epitome of evil.

Which is… really disappointing, to say the least. Because I happen to like Ganondorf. His character and his place in the mythos have always been the forefront of my interest in the series; forget Link or Zelda. Naturally, I was drawn in by TOTK's marketing about Ganondorf's return as a human antagonist after a 17 year long hiatus. Given how much of a reinvention BOTW was for the series as a whole, I was disappointed back in 2017 to learn that Ganondorf existed only as a mindless force of primordial evil. "How lame," I thought, "but I guess it's not really Ganondorf." Calamity Ganon was just that: Ganon. And Ganon's always a full-blown monster, divorced from any nuance possessed by his OOT, WW, and TP selves. Then the first teaser for TOTK dropped, placing Ganondorf the man (if a little worse for wear) front and center. Intrigued, I enjoyed the explosion of enthusiastic fan art that followed, as well as the speculation regarding the role he would play. Surely, he would be more than a one-note villain! My expectations rose as Nintendo revealed more about him. His new design didn't immediately scream Dark Lord; and in his first speaking role, he draws attention to the fact that he has returned (within universe and meta-wise) and he has a vision for the world. I couldn't want to see the final product! Yet here we are.

It's a strange thing to fixate upon, when I don't have any skin in this game. But I'm passionate about storytelling. I enjoy rich narratives with nuanced characters, and I respect those that fully commit to the ideas they present... whereas stories that try to have their cake and eat it too, well, those pique my interest as well. Whenever I see untapped potential, my writer's mind cannot help but ponder the age-old question of "What if?" And I intend to do just that, in the cut below (this rant is long enough as it is).

Of course, no amount of brainstorming can change the reality of a product. A ship's structural flaws only become apparent once it's left port, but there's no recalling it then. Nonetheless, there is value in the discussion. We should always critically analyze what corporations give us, desiccating their products to discern the messages (whether intentional or not) contained within—especially when the product is aimed toward a young audience that might not have the cognitive tools to decipher those messages for themselves. Even if we cannot affect change in a monolithic company like Nintendo, we can still draw lessons from their missteps to improve our own writing.

If I have such grievances with TOTK's story, why bother with a rewrite? Because:

Playing within the limits of another's sandbox can help to build creative muscle.

I believe TOTK has all the right ingredients for a compelling story, if this new series wasn't so afraid to challenge its narrative roots the way it has its gameplay.

A few more things to note: I am not a professional writer, nor am I a veteran of the series. I'm working strictly with what TOTK brings to the table. I'll make no efforts to reconcile the continuity errors between BOTW and TOTK (though it deserves mentioning), or even attempt to fit this in a single cohesive timeline with the rest of the franchise. I am not that brave lol. What I propose below is simply how I would use these toys; YMMV. I hope this inspires discussion more so than congratulation or wordless agreement (though my ego will accept compliments all the same, especially since it took no small amount of spoons to organize my thoughts like this). As Ganondorf says:

A Modest Rewrite of TOTK's Ancient Past Storyline

Zelda is still flung to the past, but she awakens not to a picturesque golden age under the magnanimous rule of an infallible demigod. Instead, sadly reminiscent of her own age, the land lays in ruin, in the immediate aftermath of its own calamity. But this isn't the fault of Ganon. The blame lies solely with the Zonai.

The Zonai were understandably viewed as gods. A people who live up in the sky on floating islands, in possession of miraculous technology (including killer robots to protect their interests!), and magical artifacts that in the wrong hands can unleash cataclysmic power? A civilization as powerful as theirs doesn't suddenly end without a very good reason. Yet as far as I know, no explanation is provided as to why Rauru and Mineru are seemingly the last of the Zonai. No mention is made of a rival power that could've taken them down; certainly none of the terrestrial races. Remember, the Zonai were seen as gods. If you were to ask me? A civilization with that great of a power at their disposal, and apparently so much of it that Rauru has four more Stones (not including his own, Sonia's, or Mineru's) to pass out as he sees fit... can only destroy itself.*

* I know the Zonai are depicted in text as a purely enlightened and benevolent race... but as far back in the franchise as OOT (which TOTK draws a lot from), not even Hyrule—the standard by which all civilization in LOZ is judged—was above a civil war, orphaning Link. War Within LOZ clearly isn't waged solely against primal forces of evil that can, must, and should be destroyed. And that's good! A story is made richer when even the Designated Good Guys can fuck things up, when characters are allowed to contain multitudes—good and bad qualities!

Power does not defuse conflict. It only escalates the scope of destruction once it's unleashed. So, for whatever reasons the Zonai gave themselves then clung to, they started fighting each other. Using their flying machines and automatons, battles were fought upon and between their sky islands, the detritus of war raining down on the lands below—the inhabitants of which can do nothing but watch as a war rages in heaven—until finally the full power of the Stones is unleashed in an exchange that guarantees mutual destruction. The sky islands all plummet to the earth, wreaking mass destruction. This is the world Zelda finds herself in—where the land has been cracked wide open, the skies are choked with dust, and no one gets along... so unlike the world she knows.

Zelda still comes into the care of Rauru and Sonia, but Rauru is merely Sonia's consort—he holds no power as king. It's evident from the start that Sonia is steering the direction of Hyrule—a humble territory in this age—in this tumultuous time, although Rauru is backing her. It's thanks to Sonia that Rauru and Mineru survived the fall of their sky island, brought back from the brink of death. It was during this time that Rauru fell in love with her; and to repay her, Rauru revealed that, between himself and Mineru, they have three intact Stones (a small homage to the Triforce since it doesn't matter in this continuity) with which they can secure Hyrule's place in this brave new world. Importantly, this isn't portrayed as any more righteous than a nation acquiring a clear advantage over its rivals. Indeed, Zelda's thrown for a loop to learn that in this era, the other races like the Gorons and the Zora aren't merely independent from Hyrule but have a history of conflict—something she never learned in her history books. And tensions are only rising, as these rival nations find Stones of their own after much scavenging, shifting an already fraught balance of power. The gods are dead, their empire shattered—yet slivers of their strength remain, for those daring enough to claim them. By using one of these Stones, a tribe could secure its borders, reclaim ancestral land... or conquer new territory. This is where Ganondorf enters the picture.

This Ganondorf is still a villain, but there's room for nuance. He's ruthless and prideful, and certainly antagonistic toward Hyrule; but the narrative respects him as much as his fellow monarchs. He cares about the success of his people, because his entire identity is shaped around being their king. Remember that a male is born to the Gerudo only once in a hundred years. Ganondorf is but the latest in a lineage of kings, with the heavy burden of expectation that carries—he has a legacy to uphold or surpass if he can help it. And ever since he was a boy, he envied the easy lives and green lands of Hyrule, so as a man he has made it his personal ambition to conquer it... but at every turn, he has met his match in Sonia, who is every bit as skilled of a commander and a magician. The two of them have clashed so many times that they've become the most intimate of enemies, hard pressed to hate each other because they both know what's at stake. For years, they've been evenly matched... but the downfall of the Zonai changed everything. In spite of the Gerudo's best efforts, they haven't been able to find a single Stone to make up for the fact that the crash of their local sky islands kicked up terrible sandstorms and drove monsters from their usual habitats. The Gerudo are more desperate than ever. Then Ganondorf learns that his oldest enemy is housing two living Zonai underneath her roof, and has a total of four Stones at her disposal. He cannot battle Hyrule as before, lest he risk annihilation—if not by Sonia's hands, then another tribe that is more willing to coup de grâce a decimated competitor, or they might perish to monsters, or the desert might finally claim them, the dunes swallowing up their bones and burying their accomplishments. He could bend the knee—throw himself at Sonia's feet and hope for the best, sacrificing Gerudo independence to share in Hyrule's bounty. But his pride will never allow that.

He grew up in the shadow of detached gods, was raised on tales of how they were the ultimate arbiters of truth and value—almighty in their judgment and unassailable—and he saw for himself that they would only ever come down to earth to indulge their curiosity about the quaint groundfolk or harvest what their sky islands could not provide, most notably Zonaite (of course they named it after themselves...) to fuel their miraculous machines, the secrets of which they refused to share with anyone 'because they weren't ready' and would in fact use those same machines to keep the groundfolk from overreaching. Ganondorf is the first king in generations to glimpse a sky—and a future—uncontrolled by the Zonai. Though he was raised to be a king, the very definition of absolute power and privilege, only now is he truly beholden to no one. Finally, he is free to shape his own destiny. And he's not about to relinquish that freedom on account of his dearest enemy getting in bed with a fallen demigod—no, not a god... the Zonai's civil war proved they are not infallible. Without their technology, without their precious Stones, they're flesh and blood, the same as anyone else. Mortal. And what is a man to a king?

Despite the bad blood between them, and the generations of strife between their peoples, Ganondorf is able to convince Sonia that he is willing to bury the hatchet for the sake of his people, that his desire to enter the protective embrace of her kingdom, given the dangerous new world they find themselves in, is genuine. His true intentions are not so painfully transparent, but still Zelda does not trust him. She can't stop wondering how this man becomes the source of the Gloom in her era, even if the hateful creature she encountered in the depths below Hyrule Castle hardly seemed human at all. But she cannot act on a suspicion of duplicity due to future events. So for Ganondorf's entire stint in Sonia's court, Zelda tries to weasel out the truth—and in so doing, builds a relationship with the future Demon King. Once Ganondorf catches on to the fact that Zelda sees right through him, it becomes a game of 4D chess. Who is this girl, a member of Sonia's court that he has never heard before yet is trusted enough to bear a Stone, and why is she so certain of his true motives? He's smart enough to suss out that it isn't simple bigotry. It's a fine line Zelda must walk, because she has a secret of her own—she hasn't told anyone that she's from the future, out of a rational fear of disrupting the past and changing history (but at the same time, she can't abide doing nothing, and these interests war within her).

Despite Zelda's best efforts, Ganondorf succeeds in his plot. In a single stroke, he eliminates an old enemy, deprives her nation of its leader and a Stone, and finally secures a Stone for the Gerudo. But claiming the Stone doesn't immediately transform him into an Almighty Demon King. The surge of power is great, but not so much that he's willing to engage three other Stone bearers—two of which are Zonai who of course have experience using them—so he wisely retreats, though not before telling Rauru: "No point in crying over this one. She's not the first victim of your arrogance. And we both know she won't be the last." He's made powerful enemies, but it's a battle he can fight on another day, and at least now he's on equal footing with the other factions and can take their Stones until he can finally conquer Hyrule. But Ganondorf severely underestimates the lengths Rauru will go for revenge. In killing Sonia, before Rauru's very eyes no less, he has made another enemy for life (and beyond).

Understand that Rauru survived the destruction of his people and their way of life. That's traumatic enough. But now, the person who saved his life, and gave it new meaning, is dead. Murdered. By someone he had come to trust. Because he put a target around her neck. He should have seen this coming, he should have listened to Zelda, perhaps then he could have stopped this. But it's far too late now. Before, he was content to merely support and serve—a just penance, he believed, for his small part in breaking the world. Now, he has a new purpose: To secure Sonia's legacy by any means necessary. He binds his fate to Hyrule, which will never be safe so long as Ganondorf lives. This isn't a wise and beneficent King of Light opposing a terrible darkness, but a grieving widower—who's also a skyborn demigod that just lost his one earthly tie.

After taking command as regent, Rauru does not invite the other races to a grand alliance; he brings them to heel through force. It's not enough for Rauru to immediately counterattack Ganondorf. He wants to destroy him, and what better way than to turn the whole world against him? Additionally, by consolidating the power of the Stones onto his side, he denies Ganondorf the opportunity to pick them off one by one. Zelda is witnessing history, the birth of Hyrule as she knows it, but there's nothing noble about it. It's simple imperialism, and she has to grapple with the fact that she's a beneficiary of it. If the peoples of Hyrule were united through bloodshed, does this invalidate the friendships she's made among those peoples in her present? She's confronted with deep questions which possess no easy answers.

Meanwhile, Ganondorf hasn't been sitting on his laurels. He sees Rauru is stacking the deck against him, such that even the Stone's power won't be enough to win the coming war. The Gerudo are outnumbered and outgunned. So Ganondorf turns to darker magics, begins to press monsters into service, etc. His search for ever greater power takes him into the Depths, where he finds a dangerous substance called Gloom. According to legend, it is the ichor of a demon god who was struck down long ago and sealed away in the bowels of the earth. It drains the life-force of whoever touches it, that much is certain... but Ganondorf reckons it is possible to access this stolen vitality to perform feats of magic hitherto thought impossible. Through his mastery of dark magic, amplified by the Stone, he is able to harness the Gloom. First he tests it upon monsters... then dissidents, those reluctant to oppose Rauru's growing army. He makes examples of them, siphoning away their life-force to show those who will not fight will still serve their king. But this barbarous act only creates more dissent among the Gerudo. Tradition appointed Ganondorf as king, but that doesn't mean they have to stomach his tyranny. Even if he manages to win this war, this new power could allow him to reign forever, and he just demonstrated how little their individual lives mean to him. Worried for the future of their people, Ganondorf's second-in-command, Nabooru, sells him out in exchange for clemency, enabling Rauru and his Sages to capture him. Instead of slaying him on the spot, Rauru declares his intention to haul him back to Hyrule for a public execution in Sonia's name. Nabooru insists on coming along; if the King of the Gerudo is to die on foreign soil, then one of his own should observe his passing.

Ganondorf doesn't respond well to this betrayal. After everything he sacrificed, they would still rather roll over and show their bellies—surrender their freedom and pride—to a foreign lord. Who are these people, to abandon the courage of their ancestors? These are not his Gerudo. Ganondorf disowns them, swearing vengeance upon these cowards even as he is taken away in chains. The journey back to Hyrule gives him time to brood on his destiny. He was born to be a king, yet the place of his birth has forsaken him while the rest of the world wants him dead. Most people would crumble, succumb to despair. But his pride will never allow that. He will keep fighting, like he always has. He will crush any opposition, even if it's the people who gave him birth. He will rule, even if he must reign as king of the undesired. There's a saying: 'The brighter the light, the deeper the shadow.' And Rauru has blazed oh so fiercely. To oppose him, Ganondorf must become nothing less than the King of Shadow.

At the moment of his execution, he draws upon the Gloom to transcend his mortal limits, finally becoming the Demon King. In this form, he's able to battle all seven of the Sages, but he's still not almighty. In theory, Rauru is able to slay him... but he chooses not to. Imprisoning Ganondorf isn't done as a last resort; Rauru wants him to suffer. "Killing you would be far too kind. I will make you wish you could die. You won't. I will hold you here. We will build our kingdom over the lands you tried to burn and pillage. And you will rot here, trapped in this moment, long after you have faded from its memory." And he sincerely believes that he'll be able to contain Ganondorf for all time—because he was able to ascertain that Zelda is from the future, after examining her Stone (his Stone, as it turns out) and piecing together her strange accent and unusual notions, even though she has the pointed ears of a Hylian. He doesn't understand the power, but he does take it as proof positive that his victory is guaranteed and Hyrule exists well into the future... without ever learning the whole truth of it. Rauru is directly responsible for the cycle of Calamity Ganon, as Ganondorf's resent and hatred transformed the Gloom into Malice.

Rauru's pride is an actual flaw, one that is fully explored in the modern day. Just like Ganondorf says, thousands of years passed in the blink of an eye; Rauru hasn't had any time to process his rage. He only saves Link to make him a vehicle for his revenge; sticking around past the tutorial as Link's spectral companion, constantly pushing him to ignore all distractions to destroy Ganondorf ASAP, yet unable to control him directly. In staying with Link, Rauru learns of his legacy; that he created a lasting kingdom, but harmed future generations by inadvertently creating Calamity Ganon—Ganondorf's disembodied anguish and hate, nursed over thousands of years. His selfish decisions created more harm than Ganondorf could have in a single lifetime. Just as the Zonai destroyed the world once before, Rauru managed to destroy it again and again. Hyrule no longer even exists as a kingdom, destroyed by Calamity Ganon 100 years prior. Yet Link continues to fight—not for himself, but to protect and help those he cares about as well as perfect strangers. Rauru gives a touch of the divine to Link, and in return Link reintroduces Rauru to humanity.

In contrast: Ganondorf broods in the Depths, alone. Although he still has a corporeal form, he's just as much of a ghost as Rauru is. He's more isolated than ever, having awakened to a strange world where nothing is as he remembers it. The geography is different, the flora and fauna is different, the people are different. Especially the Gerudo. They don't remember him as ever having been a person at all, believing the monster of their legends merely adopted the form of a Gerudo. But that doesn't sting as much as how tame they've become in his absence. These Gerudo have no fangs; they're fully in bed with Hyrule in every sense of the word, and it disgusts him. Nothing in this world is right. Everyone has forgotten their pride and their history; no one remembers a time when Hyrule wasn't be-all and end-all. Unable to accept this future, he terraforms Hyrule in the image of what it used to be, so it might become a crucible once more. The strong will adapt and survive, while the weak rightfully perish. He will create a world that rewards might and daring above all else.

Ganondorf is none too pleased to learn Link is running around with the arm of the man who sealed him for millennia, and assumes that he has become Rauru's puppet (even more hand symbolism)... but that's a key difference between Ganondorf and Rauru. Link essentially drags Rauru through character development, rekindling a sense of humanity within him. Ganondorf has no one to break him out of his rut. His only company down in the Depths are monsters and the Yiga Clan, who revere him as the source of Calamity Ganon—for his power and opposition of Hyrulian supremacy—but do not see him as person, a king in need of counsel. Ganondorf is more alone than ever, but he refuses to address this. To despair is to admit that the world has power over you, and he is the single strongest being in the world. Gods do not weep. And in that final confrontation, Rauru addresses Ganondorf: They're both ghosts of the past, stubbornly trying to shape the future to their liking; but the present belongs to the living. They both need to let go. But Ganondorf's pride will never allow that. To admit defeat is to admit someone has power over him, and he cannot allow it. It becomes clear to him that the only option left to him is to not play at all.

He swallows his Stone and becomes a dragon, but this doesn't lead to another boss fight (to compensate, the third phase would be a more classical Ganon fight; a friend suggested the name of "Scourge of Hyrule—Apocalypse Ganon"). Instead, in line with what was established earlier—that to become a dragon is to lose yourself to the process—Ganondorf ascends to the sky... and bears no more malice toward Link or Hyrule. He becomes the ultimate in power—immortal and at last truly divine—at the cost of his ego. He's still dangerous since he radiates Gloom, but he doesn't attack, just like the other dragons: an idiot god. He returns to the Depths out of instinctual comfort, but will occasionally surface and usher in a Blood Moon. And like the other dragons, you can harvest rare materials from him to make the best Gloom weapons or whatever. + Leaving Ganondorf in this state leaves a door open for fanatics to try and restore him in a sequel.

So, that's all I got

There's a lot of things I didn't address. Like whether the line of succession was broken with Sonia's death (so is Zelda descended from a relative of hers?), what sort of characters the Sages should be, or what Zelda does after Ganondorf is sealed away by Rauru (I'm personally not comfortable with her waltzing up to the Sages and in a stable time loop binding all the races to Hyrule), how weird the Draconification plot point is (and how Zelda is restored to her human form by Good Ending ghost magic), how Zelda is restored in this version (sequel hook same with Ganon?), how disconnected I feel Link is to the Ancient Past storyline as a whole, whether my version of Ganondorf actually ever learned about him, I didn't really dive into the aforementioned imperialist message in TOTK (others have already done so better than I), etc. Thing is, I'm not a professional writer. I do it for the love of it, and that's what this is. A messy labor of misplaced love for a franchise I've never played, all because I was upset they didn't treat my blorbo the way I like. You know how it goes. My brain didn't know when to let go, but at least now it's out there and not rattling around solely in my noggin, making an awful racket. Maybe now I can work on other things. If you've made it this far, cheers.