#this post brought to you by the utter lack of motivation to do anything which my uterus inflicts upon me every month

[thosewickedlovelies]

The problem, I've realized, with writing even literally my own ass fics, is that I don't care what happens in the middle. I want to see the characters meet. Squeeze a little bit of juicy tension of out of them, maybe an oh no they're hot moment, maybe just an oh moment. And then I want to see them fuck. I simply cannot be arsed to write all the other stuff

[pazodetrasalba]

Work (& 2)

Dear Caroline:

This is an apt continuation for the previous entry, and about 7 years later. So you did manage to succeed in the workforce, at least until disaster brought everything crashing down like a house of cards.

The impression this post gives, at it should come as no surprise, is of quasi-utter exhaustion and a crazy work schedule that has gobbled up your life and soul, and your intellectual capacity to process it all (I would venture this as a definition of 'lack of brainspace'). The way in which you threw yourself on this -with selfless and reckless abandon, I am tented to say- does make sense when one tries to disentangle your motivations from other bits and pieces of texts. You were very likely extremely motivated to succeed at whatever personal cost as a function of your ideals of world optimization and maximizing all the the good you could do, which is something that fits well within a utilitarian-Peter Singer kind of framework where the imperative for doing the good is unbounded. This would have elevated to the nth power the natural stresses, time-consumption and demands of a top-paying job as a CEO in finance, along with the very murky and shady dealings you were perforce engaged with under Sam's guidance. No better summary of all of this is provided by your own words (if they are yours) in your tumblr with the last query about your feelings that you answered before shutting down: "exhausted but there's still a lot to do".

The last line of this post does have a paradoxical ring to it I can't quite fathom the meaning of. Did all the work that unrealistically pile up around made you feel powerless? Was that feeling of 'lack of responsibility' a way of distancing yourself from a sisyphean task, or an indirect way of hinting at your actual lack of agency while Sam and others made the decisions while you had to deal with the grime and grind of implementing them? Only you know this, and perhaps others will never get to know.

One thing that worries me is how your psychological framework is going to take the whole situation and its consequences once the waters have settled. Right now you will be too centered on trial preparation and on trying to avoid spending time (or the minimum possible amount) in prison to think or feel about anything else, but when all things have passed, I find it hard to imagine how you will cope with having lost the possibility of greatly improving the world that was such an essential fire flaming at your core, and how you will deal with this failure and its life-scarring consequences. I have an unbounded trust in both your goodness and your intelligence, and am sure you will be able to make a decent comeback, but it is unrealistic to expect it to be more than a shadow of what you've had, and neutralize all the harm that was done -let alone generate a net positive balance, all things considered. I see today that a new podcast has been uploaded to Vox's and Sean Illing's The Gray Area (yet another of the things I've discovered indirectly because of you) about The case for failure, a conversation about Costica Bradatan's new book In Praise of Failure: Four Lessons in Humility. I have downloaded it but haven't had time to listen to it yet, and yet I suspect it will probably interest you and perhaps do you some good in assimilating all you've been through.

Quote:

Victory has a thousand fathers, but defeat is an orphan.

John F. Kennedy

[andilovetowrite]

The Spidey Suit

Peter Parker x reader

Summary: Everyone has wanted to try on the iconic suit of Queens’ superhero, but when you have an opportunity to actually do it, you land yourself in a bit of a sticky situation…

Warnings: Suggestiveness, but nothing too bad. A couple of bad words and a ton of flustered Peter.

Word Count: 1.2k

Here is my Masterlist, as well as the request it is based on! Thanks for reading this, and I hope you enjoy it :)

“Hey Ms Parker”, you exclaimed, walking into Peter’s apartment. May smiled, quickly hugging you as she ruffled your hair.

“It’s May, Y/N. Ms Parker makes me feel old!” she says jokingly as you laugh.

“Well, can’t have that”, you say, laughing along with her. “How are you?”

May shrugs, her eyes getting a far-off look. “Oh, it’s fine...with Peter having Spider duties in the night and work starting late, I have a ton of time on my hand.”

You smile coyly, remembering what Peter told you before he came to pick you up on a date last week. “Oh, so you have enough time for a relationship? With a certain jolly man? Or was it Happy?”

You giggle, watching May’s face turn red, as she waved you off. “Oh shush! It’s nothing. Who told you?”

“Peter did. You should’ve seen his face!”

“Oh no!” May says, groaning. “Happy and I are not in any way dating!”

Sure”, you say, extending the word as you take off your jacket. “Also, speaking of Peter, where is he? Still out?”

May nodded, gesturing to his room. “Yeah, he is, but you can stay as long as you want...he should be back in about 30 minutes anyway.”

You smile, nodding. “Thanks, May. Any plans for the evening?” you ask, looking over your shoulder.

“A dat- Uh, nothing. Just-uh hanging out with friends. Yeah, yep, that's what I’m going to be doing”, she says, and you understand where Peter gets his nervous stuttering from. You stifle a laugh as you nod at her, heading into Peter’s room.

Opening the door, you jumped into his bed, marvelling at how the room was so much more cleaner tonight. After getting the superhero gig with the Avengers, Peter had a ton of new gizmos and tech. Not only was his room always littered with new tech toys from the tower, but it was just usually messy. With college and his Spider-Man duties, there wasn’t a ton of time to pick up dirty clothes from the floor. At least, that’s what he says.

So it was a pleasant surprise when everything was spick and span, well...except for his closet. It was an utter mess, with the door overflowing with jumbled up pieces of clothing. Scrunching your eyebrows, you walked over, eyes widening when a mountain of shirts and jumpers fell out.

“What the hell?”, you muttered, noticing how they were just thrown in. Peter must’ve been in a hurry to find something, but what would it be in his closet-? “Aha”, you said, seeing something hanging off his bed.

The old Spiderman suit. Well...wasn’t really a suit, more like a hoodie made by Peter months ago. You picked up the red hoodie, smiling at the hastily drawn spider logo in the middle. You knew Peter was Spiderman soon after he had started fighting crime...being his best friend and all. But you only saw him when he had the “Mr Stark suit”, so you had never seen Peter in action with his old one.

But looking at it now, you felt a magnetic pull to it. Walking over, you hesitantly picked it up, fingers smoothening over the soft fabric, the tears and cuts, the stains still leftover from fights. Biting your lip, you look around, staring out the window as you brought up the suit to your body, wanting to see how it would look on you.

Having a superhero boyfriend was great since he saved people and all...but it was even better when you saw him in action wearing a skin-tight suit. You weren’t half as strong as Peter, but you desperately wanted to try it on, just to get a feel of what it would be like. Plus, it looked sooooo comfortable, despite the wear and tear of it.

Quickly looking around, and closing the door, you shed your shirt and shorts, pulling on the red and blue garment. “Holy shit”, you whispered, peering at yourself in the mirror. “This is awesome” Turning sideways, you pulled your wrist up, trying to figure out what was pressing into your skin, but as your fingers brushed against a small button, thick white liquid shot out of the compartment.

You gasped as you were pulled through air, landing smack in the middle of Peter’s bed. “Oh no”, you whispered, trying to pull yourself free but failing in doing so. The web. You didn’t realize it was still in there, but now you were in a sticky position. Literally.

May could easily walk through the door and see you in Peter’s old suit, which would thoroughly embarrass you. Or even worse, Peter comes in and sees you fidgeting with his belongings. Although he was the sweetest, most caring person on the planet, he had a strict rule about not letting his personal life interfere with his superhero life. And you might have just bent that rule a little… The best thing was that you just waited it out. This was probably the old web, which dissolves in an hour or so, which would be an awful lot of time, but it was better than anything else.

Sadly, the universe didn’t want to agree with you tonight, because, in less than 20 minutes, you heard the familiar THWAP of the web as Peter came swinging in through the window.

“Karen, I am so exhausted toda- What?”, Peter said, looking shocked at you sprawled across his bed, a familiar blue and red suit loosely covering you.

“Hey Peter”, you said weakly, “I’m really sorry about the sui-”

“You look so hot”, he whispered out loud, blushing bright red at his statement. “I-I mean-um...uh hi Y/N”

All your worries melted away as you saw Peter’s face, your heart squeezing as you stared at his stuttering, pink face. Ridiculously handsome face. “H-hey Pete. I just came in a while back and saw th-this and I just wanted to try it….”, you said, trying to gauge his reaction before continuing. “So I might have worn it, and mistakenly shoot out a web that was still in there, which is a terrible idea by the way!”

Peter laughed as his eyes roamed your body, walking over to get some dissolvent, but stopping halfway. “So, in conclusion, I might have gotten a teensy tiny bit stuck”, you said, smirking lightly. “Care to unravel me?”

Peter scoffed, walking over to you. “First you touch my stuff, and then get yourself in a sticky situation on my bed...and now you expect me to just let you out love?” He came closer to you, whispering hotly in your ear, “I think not Ms Spider, in fact, I’m going to let you be there for the next two hours as it dissolves”

You looked up at him, challenging him. “Two hours huh? Didn’t think it would take that long...I would think Spiderman’s web would come off much quicker”

Peter simply chuckled, “Oh sweetheart, Spiderman’s web won’t come off for a long time...might as well get ready for a long night”

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

Wow, got kinda spicy at the end...but yeah. This took so long to write, purely because of my lack of motivation, but I hope you enjoyed this! Hopefully, I’ll have another ff out in the next couple of days :) Please send me a message or comment on this post if you want to be added to the taglist.

Taglist: @idkatee @eternalscribblesforthesoul @loudbluepancake @poisondevotion @scram1326 @t-hollanderr @305weasley @starknik22 @marvelfansworld @lou-la-lou @lomlparker @marvelfansworld @wowitsel @vanteguccir @fullcheesecakeengineer @ladykxxx08 @allegras-sunflower @ifyouknewhowmiserylovedme @a–1–1–3 @hayhays

[themonkeycabal]

WandaVision Episode 9 Spoilers

I can't believe we're already at the finale. 

This has been better than I expected, though I didn't have any particular expectations one way or the other. I had hoped it would be bonkers, and it's had its moments, but I didn't expect it to be breaking my heart. I'm glad Wanda (and Elizabeth Olsen) got this moment to shine. It was very well done, and it's been nice to have fun with a Marvel property again. It's been a little while.

My wishlist for this episode is simply that somebody, anybody punch Acting Director Dick square in the face. And also that Jimmy Woo arrests him. A lot.

Other than that, I don't know what to expect, or how they wrap this up in 30 minutes.

Previously on: Wanda finally earned the name Scarlet Witch after Agatha made her relive the worst moments of her life. Harsh, Agatha. Vision uttered a line that launched a thousand gif sets. And Hayward revealed his genius masterplan which is a reactivated Vision, devoid of color and powered by the energy bleeding from Wanda's hex. I'm sure that will go swimmingly for him.

Let's see how this all ends.

Agatha still has magical tethers around Billy and Tommy's necks, which obviously Wanda doesn't like. Agatha gives the boys a tug, knocking them back, and Wanda lets loose, walloping Agatha. The boys are now free, but Wanda tells them to go to their room. They object, she insists, Tommy grabs Billy and they zoom off. Wanda hits Agatha again with a hex, but Agatha sort of collects it into a little glowy ball in her hand. Oops.

"I take power from the undeserving. It's kinda my thing."

Wanda notices her hand turning gray and gnarly — the look of somebody about to be magically mummified. Agatha hits her with a hex and taunts her some more.

"You're clearly in over your little, red head, so why don't you surrender your magic to someone who knows what to do with it?" Agatha, you're pushing your luck. "I'll let you keep this pathetic corner of the world all to yourself. What do you say?"

Wanda says she will throw a car right at your face, Agatha. I laughed. Didn't see that coming, did you? Knocked Agatha right out of her boots.

As Wanda is investigating, Director Dick's white Vision floats down behind her. He's creepy looking.

Wanda walks over to him, staring at him. "Is it really you?"

He puts his hands on her face, all gentle like, but it's a lie. He starts to squeeze. "And I was told you were powerful."

Gross, AD Dick. I hope you get stepped on by Ant-Man when he's being Giant-Man.

Sitcom World Vision (hereafter just plain old Vision) makes a timely reappearance, and takes out Not!Vision. He wants to know where the boys are, Wanda assures him they're safe, and she apologizes for everything and that she should have told him what was happening, "the moment I realized what I'd done". Poor Wanda. He tells her it's alright. She says she can fix it. Not!Vision climbs out of the burning remains of a camper.

Agatha reappears to note the awkwardness of the situation. She asks Wanda who she's going to choose, the ex or the boyfriend. What happens when Wanda hits you with more power than you can contain, Agatha?

Wanda tells Vision "this is our home." He agrees, "then let's fight for it." I hope for the best for you two crazy kids! Marvel has a dicey record on happy endings, though. Sorry!

Vision takes off towards Not!Vision again. Agatha flies off, too, and Wanda follows.

Across the street Monica is pounding on a window, calling for Wanda. Fietro, lounging with a guitar in his … stoner den?, tells her nobody can hear her. Can we talk about how Monica's SWORD uniform looks like ST:Next Gen unis? I can't stop seeing it and it's distracting. Anyway, she tries to escape, but, Fietro is still all fast and stuff, so she's thwarted.

In the sky, Vision and Not!Vision battle. Not!Vision says Wanda must be neutralized and Vision must be destroyed. Hmm. Not!Vision tries to rip out the stone in Vision's forehead but Vision goes intangible. More fighting with intangibleness. It's pretty cool.

Outside Westview, AD Dick is feeling cocky as he watches both Visions on tracking monitors. I loathe him so much. Jimmy Woo is brought in handcuffed by a pair of SWORD goons. I'm sorry, who the f is SWORD? Like, they have arrest powers now? Dick says "hey, it's my favorite member of the Bureau." New wishlist: everybody gets to take turns punching AD Dick in the face.

Dick asks his minion to reconfirm mission objectives while Jimmy listens carefully, mentally noting each and every violation of federal law and the Sokovia Accords. 

The minion says she can't get through to not!Vision, his system is overloaded. A cellphone rings on a desk nearby and Jimmy eyes it, then tells Hayward that he'll never be able to cover up these shenanigans. 

While Dick is busy boasting and the SWORD goons are doing everything but paying attention to their prisoner (in my head all the SWORD goons applied to SHIELD but Maria Hill laughed at each and every one of their applications and then called Pepper to laugh some more and then texted choice bits to May tagging them "RE: LOL"), Jimmy eases over and grabs the phone.

"Wanda canceled her show,” Dick says with the sort of confidence only an enormous prick can muster, “so there's no footage proving there was ever more than one Vision."

Jimmy points out that that is dumb, because there is other footage, from SWORD HQ and stuff, and probably evidence of tampering. He casually sits on a table, shaking his head, like he's just so disappointed (i'm hoping he's somehow managed to use the phone to record the monolog-ing) .

Dick is still too far up his own ass to notice Jimmy being sneaky. "No one's going to care once I've eliminated Wanda Maximoff. They'll believe that the Vision that emerges from the Westview rubble is the one she illegally tried to bring back to life."

Wait, bringing him back to life is illegal? You're full of shit, Dick. And also, an extremely terrible person, who will destroy a whole town for … something? A Vision weapon? Who are you fighting, Dick? BTW, I award him no sympathy points for surviving in the post-Snap world. So if he's been scarred by that or whatever, I don't care. Trauma doesn't excuse murdery megalomania. As has been said before: Cool motive, still murder. I hope Vision intangibles him into a lamp post that gets peed on every day by a parade of small dogs.

"They'll thank me for recovering such a valuable asset. You could be part of that victory, Jimmy. If only you had a little more … vision" says the smug prick who is asking for it. And by it I mean something both terrible and humiliating to happen to him asap.

Jimmy fake laughs back. "That's a good one, Hayward. Okay, I'm convinced. The trouble is my friends at Quantico will probably have something to say about your plan. When they arrive. Inside the hour." heh.

Oh, poor Dick doesn't like being mocked back. He tells his brain-dead goons to remove Jimmy. The goons throw Jimmy into a … stack of hay? In a fenced in cage thing? As you have on your pop-up military facility. Where he sets to work removing his handcuffs with a clip he also stole, because Jimmy Woo is cool like that. Close Up Magic! See the things you can learn from criminals. "Flourish" lol. 

He calls his friends at Quantico. "I was hoping you could get here … inside the hour?"

Back in Westview. Wanda is looking for Agatha while the town goes about its business. Weirdo delivery guy drives by "Don't shoot. I'm just the messenger. ha ha."

Then she gets hit in the back by a purple hex. Ouch. She has hit the pavement hard kind of a lot in this episode already. That hurts, my dudes, I know this from personal falling down experience. Wanda's hand, by the way, is still looking ashy and not very healthy.

Agatha taunts her from a rooftop. "Did you know there's an entire chapter devoted to you in the Darkhold." How could she know that, Agatha? Also, boo the Darkhold. That bit of nastiness led to the Framework, and I'm still a little scarred by that myself. "That's the book of the damned," says the witch standing in front of a billboard for "Squeaky Shine" lol.

Agatha produces the Darkhold and recites from it, "The Scarlet Witch is not born, she is forged. She has no coven, nor need for incantation." Wanda insists she isn't a witch, nobody taught her magic.

Agatha continues, "Your power exceeds that of the Sorcerer Supreme" Steven Strange will like that. Not much. He's so twitchy about things like that. "It's your destiny to destroy the world." Always with the destinies. FREE WILL FOREVAH!

Wanda insists she's not the Scarlet Witch thingy. Agatha says "oh really?" and uses her mojo on Emma Caulfield. Hi Emma Caulfield! She seems to be 'awake' and introduces herself to Wanda (who knew her as Dottie) "My name is Sarah. I have a daughter, she's 8, maybe she could be friends with your boys. If you like that storyline. Or the school bully, even. Really anything, if you could just let her out of her room. If I could just hold her." Wow, ouch.

Speaking of free will or the lack of, Wanda accuses Agatha of doing this, but Agatha says "She's your meat puppet. I just cut her strings." Poor Wanda. And now Agatha wakes up the whole town, who all head towards Wanda.

And we cut to Fietro's den of manchildness. Monica asks what that place is, but come on Monica, it's clearly a den of manchildness. Fietro is making himself a smoothie and explaining the purpose of a mancave — chillaxing.

Monica ignores him and rifles through his bills and whatnot. She finds a headshot of Fietro with the name "Ralph Bohner" underneath. Because, people just keep their headshots lying around willynilly. Wait, are we saying Ralph is an actor? Lol. 

Fietro meanwhile is planning for a Steven Segal marathon — my dad and I watched all of those movies and for the life of me I could not tell you why. We didn't *like* them. I mean, mostly we laughed, but still. Why?

Anyway, Monica is trying to solve the mystery of Fietro. It's not Agatha's house (obviously) it's Fietro's (Ralph). He's an ass and asks if she wants to fight some more, so she flips him over her shoulder and pins him down, trying to figure out how Agatha is controlling him. With her new glowy eyes, she notices the bead necklace he's wearing sparkles in a magically way. She rips it off and Fietro becomes Ralph.

Elsewhere the Visions are still battling in the sky and the boys are watching from their bedroom. They lose sight of dad, but Billy gets a vision of mom in trouble in the town square. He and Tommy run off.

The townsfolk are confused and scared. Wanda tells them they're all going to be fine. "When you let us sleep, we have your nightmares." Ouch. Wanda insists she kept them safe. Wanda, sweetie, you're very far in over your head. 

"You feel, you feel at peace," she tells them, kind of hoping that works. It doesn’t. "We feel your pain." "Your grief is poisoning us." "Please let us go." This is an awful thing to do to Wanda, Marvel!

It escalates with all those voices begging her to free them and she screams, grabbing her head, and when she does that, red light appears around the throats of the townies, silencing them, choking them. Wanda realizes and puts her glowy hands up "stop, stop, I'm sorry", releasing them all.

"If you won't let us go, let us die." Wanda promises to let them go. Agatha wonders what's stopping her from actually doing it.  

"Heroes don't torture people." Agatha's a very sink-or-swim kind of teacher.

That does the trick and Wanda throws her arms back and yells to the sky, releasing her power up at the hex surrounding the town. "Go, all of you. Now, go." The people run and the town flickers through the eras and the barrier starts to fall.

Outside, Director Dick tells his morons "this is it, we're going in!"

The Visions keep on battling, but as the barrier falls, Vision starts to falter himself. I was afraid of that.

The Morons roll in with their big trucks and big guns because … reasons. I have a very low opinion of SWORD. Maria Rambeau's agency deserves better than this shitshow.

Vision falls and it looks like bits of him are chipping off. He hits the ground hard, he gets up, but he's glitching, too, falling apart as Wanda takes down her spell. He reaches for her. The boys appear now, too, screaming for mom, but they seem to be flickering as well, flying apart in pixelly pieces. Poor Wanda.

Agatha says "Now do you see? You tied your family to this twisted world and now one can't exist without the other." This is terrible. "Save Westview or save your family." TERRIBLE.

Wanda pulls the hex into herself again, recreating the barrier. The kids and Vision recover and run to her. Outside, as the hex closes, Jimmy Woo is, yet again, left to stare at the barrier, cut off from the fun inside. Poor guy, lol. But, his FBI buddies are arriving, so at least he won't get lonely.

Agatha throws a hex at Wanda and Wanda throws up a shield to protect her family. Which Agatha starts to draw towards herself like the magic vampire she is. Greedy Agatha. Wanda's arms are all gray. And SWORD rolls into town square, because that's what this confrontation needed — these dipshits.

Anyway, the Family stands ready to face Director Dick and his morons, in a quality recreation of the Incredibles family pose. "Listen boys, your mother and I never really prepared you for this," dad says. Because your boys are like three days old, Vision, it's okay. "But you were born for it," Wanda assures them very fiercely. Get 'em, sister!  

As they square off, Vision's like "oh crap, it's the other me, back in a mo'" and flies off to tackle Not!Vision who's trying to sneak up behind them.

They destroy the town library and Vision wants to know why Not!Vision gotta be like that. "My programming directive is to destroy the Vision." 

Ha ha, says Vision, a loophole. "But, I'm not the true Vision, only a conditional Vision."

Hmmm, says Not!Vision, and they stop fighting, "I request elaboration". Hey, Vision, move into Not!Vision's body and you can be true Vision again! Problem solved, my work here is done.

Back to the street where we find Dick and his Morons and Agatha who is not making this situation at all better. The morons point their guns at Agatha who magics them up off the ground like thirty feet in the air, "Same story, different century. There will always be torches and pitchforks for ladies like us, Wanda." I'm not going to say you're wrong, Agatha, and God knows these SWORD morons are morons, but you're also a pain in the ass. So …

Anyway, then Agatha drops them and Wanda reaches out to catch them. But once caught, she does let them drop the last five or six feet. They'll be fine, but also they deserved it, so I laughed.

"Boys, handle the military. Mommy will be right back." They're my new favorite family.

Wanda flies up to tangle with Agatha and Agatha is super ready except … Wanda throws a curveball and disappears. Suck it Agatha.

Down on the ground the SWORD morons continue to cover themselves in glory and point their guns at CHILDREN. I don't care if they're powered children, you know what I'd like, I'd like if one of the morons would just be like "um, but … they're kids and how about no? I'm going to get Jimmy Woo! He'll know what to do. Don't try and stop me!" That doesn't happen.

Billy freezes the soldiers in place and Tommy super speeds by and steals their guns and hats. AD Dick, being the absolutely loathsome, vile, lower-than-a-maggot, piece of shit that he is, gets out of his humvee and shoots at the CHILDREN.

Monica, who has just arrived to the party, runs and throws herself between Dick and the boys, taking the bullets meant for them. Her new powers render her sort of … I don't even know. Not quite intangible, but she kind of looks like a ballistics gel dummy and the bullets go through her but they slow down a lot as they pass and then just sort of fall on the ground. Dick, crossing the line into pure evil, fires again, the bullet misses Monica and heads towards Billy, who just raises his hand and stops it with his power then he grins at Monica.

"Nice tricks," she tells him.

"I like yours, too," he says.

Dick tries to fire AGAIN! But he's out of bullets. He only had four? Or maybe his gun jammed. Anyway, like the brave man he is, he runs to the humvee, gets in, reverses at speed, stops and looks like he's going to put it in gear and drive at them because the dude is unhinged. But! Lo! It's Darcy and the funnel cake truck, that is apparently built like a tank, though come to think of it, it probably was an armored vehicle in the real world.

Anyway, she t-bones Dick's vehicle, thwarting his evility for the moment. "Have fun in prison." Lol

Back to the Visions. They're having a philosophical debate. "You are familiar with the thought experiment "The Ship of Theseus" in the field of identity metaphysics," Vision prompts Not!Vision.

  "Naturally." And Not!Vision helpfully spells it out for us. "The ship of Theseus is in a museum. Over time its planks of wood rot and are replaced with new planks. When no original planks remain, is it still the ship of Theseus?"

  Vision presses his advantage, "Secondly. If those removed planks are restored and reassembled, free of the rot, is that the ship of Theseus?"

To sum up, neither is the true Vision, both are the true Vision.

"But I do not have the mind stone," says not!Vision.

  "And I do not have one single ounce of original material," replies Vision. "Perhaps the rot is the memories. The wear and tear are the voyages. The wood touched by Theseus himself."

Not!Vision says he doesn't have the memories, though, but Vision insists he does, the data is still there, hidden. Not!Vision says nah, Vision must be the true Vision because he believes himself to be. But, Vision says that's not true anymore, he plays the reverse card, "upon meeting you, I have been disabused of that notion." This is the most philosophy nerd game of 'not it' ever.

Vision continues to try to get at Not!Vision's memories. "As a carbon-based synthazoid, your memory storage is not so easily wiped. May I?" Not!Vision allows Vision to touch the glowy bit where the memory stone used to be, and Not!Vision is flooded with Vision's memories. Not!Vision's eyes go … normal, I guess you'd say, no longer robot-like and glowy.

"I am Vision" he says and flies off. It was a lot to take in, I guess. He needs a little me-time.

I guess we're going to have to go back to calling Vision Sitcom!Vision, anyway, he goes outside and the boys run over to him and there's hugging and stuff.

Agatha stalks them from the rooftop, but it seems she might have forgotten Wanda for a second, because Wanda appears behind her and does that thing she does where she makes you see your worst fear. Enjoy that, Agatha!

Agatha sees herself bound to the stake in the woods again. Her coven dead. Wanda is there in the vision, too. "You see the difference between you and me, is that you did this on purpose."

The coven rise from the dead and shuffle to her while Agatha begs for it to stop. But, then Agatha gets control of herself, I guess, and the undead mummy witches start saying Wanda's name and pointing at her. You're just no fun at all, Agatha.

Now the coven ties Wanda to the stake. "You can't win, Wanda. Power isn't your problem; it's knowledge." That is, actually, very true. Wanda's Scarlet Witch headpiece appears on her all magical-like, marking her as the Scarlet Witch of myth, I suppose.

"Give me your power, and I will correct the flaws in your original spell. And you and your family and the people of Westview can all live together in peace."

If Agatha is so smart, why doesn't she just take Wanda's power, hmm?

"And no one will ever have to feel this pain again. Not even you," Agatha tries cajoling, but that was the wrong tack to take. Wanda gives her the head tilt of imminent ass-kicking, and her powers explode outward, flinging way the weird creepy coven of zombie mummies. Then Wanda knocks them both back into Westview.

She starts hammering Agatha with her powers. "Take it, I don't want it." Vision tries to fly up to help her, but she blocks him with a spell.

Witch fight in the clouds. Every time Wanda misses Agatha, her hexes hit the shield. Outside Jimmy Woo looks on, concerned.

"There's more," Agatha says, "I want it all." Wanda's looking a little mummified, but she's still flinging hexes left and right while Agatha cackles evilly. Eventually Wanda runs out of steam and just sort of hovers there.

"About our deal. Once case, a spell can never be changed." You're terrible, Agatha. Very cruel. "This world will always be broken. Just. Like. You." Low, Agatha. Lower than dirt

Agatha gathers herself and tries to hit out at Wanda with all that yummy power but it just fizzles. Nothing happens. Oh noes, Agatha, what's wrong?

Wanda starts looking like her normal self again and behind her glows a giant rune. Oh, dear, Agatha, you taught Wanda something. When she was missing Agatha and hitting the shield all those times, she was actually casting runes. LOL to you.

The sky is angry and red and stormy. Monica, Vision, and the boys look on.

"In a given space," Wanda says, "only the witch who cast them [runes] can use her magic. Thanks for the lesson, but, I don't need you to tell me who I am."

 The Scarlet Witch headpiece reappears and now Agatha has her a fright. I like you Agatha, you're rotten in fun way, but you took it too far, sister. Wanda takes her power back with prejudice and she is transformed into the Scarlet Witch. Updated version of the classic costume. Nice, I like it.

"Oh god," Agatha gasps, "You don't know what you've done." Wanda drops her on the ground more gently than she deserved.

Agatha asks if Wanda's going to lock her up somewhere. And Wanda says, yeah, here in lovely Westview. "I'll give you the role you chose; the nosy neighbor."

"You have no idea what you've unleashed. You're gonna need me." "If I do, I know where to find you." lol

And Wanda turns Agatha back into Agnes. "Hiya, hon. Say, that some kind of getup you're wearing. Did I leave the oven on, or is that just you, hot stuff."

Wanda says goodbye and walks over to her family, kissing her boys.

Vision says their dream home has turned into a fixer-upper. "I know you'll set everything right. Just not for us."

"No," Wanda agrees because Marvel likes to hurt us all. "Not for us."

Monica kind of bounces on her toes, trying to get Wanda's attention, but probably also not entirely wanting Wanda's attention. Wanda gives her a hesitant nod as she and Vision leave with the boys.

The field around town starts to shrink, the circus turns back into the SWORD base.

They get home and tuck the boys into bed.

"Big day today," Vision says. "Your mother and I … are very proud of you both."

"Very proud," Wanda agrees. "You know, a family is forever. We could never truly leave each other, even if we tried. You know that right?"

They kiss their boys goodnight. Outside the window, the field flickers and fails. "Boys, thanks for choosing me to be your mom."

The town of Westview returns to its sad old self, street by street. Wanda turns out the lights in their home.

But, Vision turns one back on. "Oh, I read somewhere, that it's bad luck to say goodbye in the dark." "No, you didn't." You guys are killing me.

Why did this have to be so good and sad?

And finally the collapsing field reaches their street, they watch it coming. 

"Wanda, I know we can't stay like this, but before I go, I feel I must know, what am I?"

She touches his face. "You, Vision, are the piece of the mind stone that lives in me. You are a body of wires and blood and bone that I created. You are my sadness and my hope, but mostly you're my love." Stupid show, my screen went blurry there for a second.

Vision cries a bit, they both are a little astonished by the tear. 

"I have been a voice with no body, a body but not human. And now, a memory, made real. Who knows what I might be next." Aww, Vision, I love you.

Here comes the field.

"We have said goodbye before, so it stands to reason—" "We'll say hello again." STUPID SHOW why do you have to make me feel things?

The field collapses and everything is stripped back into nothing. "So long, darling." And Wanda stands in the empty lot, in the foundations of the home that never was.

She walks away again. Poor Wanda. And back into town. The people look at her, they don't seem happy. I don't know why she chose to do that, she does have a car. Ah, she's going to talk to Monica.

"They'll never know what you sacrificed for them," Monica says. "It wouldn't change how they see me," Wanda tells her. "And you? You don't … you don't hate me?" "Given the chance, and given your power, I'd bring my mom back. You know I would." "I'm sorry, for all the pain I caused."

Wanda promises to figure out her power and then files off. The End.

Heartbreaking. Good, but heartbreaking.

Mid-credits scene. Jimmy Woo is large and in charge. He's setting up the incident response in town, ordering folks around (in his good natured way).

Jimmy spots his friend. "Monica!" "Authority looks good on you, Jimmy." "Where's Darcy?" "Something about ‘debriefs are for the weak’?" lol "But we can thank her for that." 

And down the street AD Dick is being arrested. Nobody punched him in the face. I'm sad. Darcy came closest, I guess. What with hitting him with the very large truck. It will have to do.

Monica is summoned to the theater by another agent. Hmm nobody there. The agent follows. "I was sent by an old friend of your mother's." And the agent is a Skrull. "He heard you'd been grounded. He'd like to meet with you."

"Where?"

The Skrull points up. 

What was Fury's Skrull buddy's name? I don't recall. I didn't actually like the Captain Marvel movie. I felt like they told it backwards, and also they should have just cast a younger actor to play young Nick Fury. That bugged me. And I wanted more of Annette Benning’s character. Anyway … I guess we know where we’ll see Monica again. 

Well, that was fun. Like I said, I'm not sure what I expected from this series, just that it be some degree of fun, I guess. But it was much better than whatever I had half-envisaged. AND SADDER, MARVEL.

Thank goodness for the multi-verse. I'm sure we'll see some version of the boys again. And also Not!Vision, who is probably also Vision at this point, knocking around the world, trying to find himself. Talk about identity crisis. I feel you, brother. Stay safe, get plenty of whatever passes for rest for you!

See you guys in a couple of weeks for Falcon and the Winter Soldier. I WANT NO TEARS FROM THAT ONE! Unless it's tears of laughter. 

ETA: FOR THE SECOND POST CREDITS SCENE THAT I MISSED. Stupid Marvel hiding things from me. Thank you, @beelzebufo

Mountains, a mountain lake, a place I’d like to be right now. Wanda sits on the porch of her lonely little cabin. The tea kettle whistles and she goes inside. There’s a rattling and whispering from the other room, where the astral projection(?) of the Scarlet Witch reads the Darkhold and her children call for her. I don’t know, Wanda, seems dicey, that’s not a very nice book. 

FOR REAL THE END THIS TIME

[fluffyferalkacchan]

Kacchan & Deku: Win to Save and Save to Win - A circular path of parallels (part 1)

Okay so it had probably already been talked to death by now, but i'd like to write a detailed list of how Midoriya and Bakugou's respective paths are and had always been paralleled since the beginning. And it's not just with the whole "save to win and win to save" thing, which is the most obvious textual part of it, but there are a lot of more subtle hints along the way too. I mean in nearly every single arcs, for each of Midoriya development, Bakugou had one too (albeit in a completely opposite direction).

This post is also partly in response to some anime-only fans who complained about Bakugou's development in the Joint Training Arc coming from the left field... Which actually isn't? Like Kirishima said it had never been as obvious before but there were definite hints about it and I'll try to show them as thoroughly as possible in this post.

Warning ! This post will be quite long and will contain Manga Spoilers up to chapter 317 in part 3!

¤ From the Pre-UA era To Deku vs Kacchan: their starting lines

(more under the cut)

When I said that the parallel started early, I really meant early. In fact, it started as early as the very first panel they were in.

I think it is very telling that the first time we saw them, Midoriya is trying to defend another kid, while Bakugou is seen using his quirk (and actually introducing the reader/viewer to the whole concept of quirk in the first place). It tells us right here, right then on the very first second, that Midoriya Izuku is physically weak but a savior at heart and Bakugou Katsuki has a strong quirk but is a bully asserting his dominance.

This of course led to diametrical beliefs on what a hero is and should be and we've got those two very iconic moments to illustrate:

And of course it reflected into their behaviors, even as kids.

What I find really interesting in the way those flashbacks were presented is that Midoriya's saving moment was told through Bakugou's POV, while Bakugou's winning side was seen through Midoriya's eyes.

Those moments were deemed important because they deeply impacted the witnessing party and not actually the "wining/saving" one.

(I think someone commented once that while the river scene was highly pivotal for Bakugou, Midoriya probably doesn't even remember it. And likewise Bakugou probably doesn't remember fighting and winning against some random older kids, but Midoriya definitively does. And I totally agree!)

At those moment both Bakugou and Midoriya saw in the other something that they were clearly lacking and their reactions to this realization were wildly different as well.

"He doesn't take himself into account, you know. Something doesn't feel right. It makes me wanna keep him at arm's length. Back then, I ignored my own weakness, so I ended up bullying him" - Bakugou Katsuki

"You who had so many things I didn't have... To me, you were an amazing person much closer than All Might! That's why I keep chasing after you!!" - Midoriya Izuku

Midoriya saw this amazing kid kicking ass with his strong quirks and his first reaction was admiration and wanting to get as close as possible to this person, because he was all too aware of his own weakness and shortcoming.

Bakugou saw this selfless kid trying to help him and displaying qualities that he didn't have and his first reaction was to lash out and push that kid as far away as possible because he didn't want to recognize his own weaknesses and shortcomings.

Which, you know, probably describes their entire childhood dynamics haha...

... and then the sludge villain happened.

And it brought with it the iconic "My legs moved on their own" and "Your eyes were begging for help" moments which we all know about of course, but this scene also had another more immediate parallel that I'd like to talk about.

Bakugou tried to fight the sludge villain on his own but ultimately failed to win.

Midoriya tried to rescue Bakugou on his own from the sludge villain but ultimately failed to save him.

The sludge villain was a reality check for both of them, in a "Nope kiddos, you might aspire to be heroes, but you still have a very long way to go. Here let's insert an All Might to show you just how far away your goal is," kind of way?

Anyway fast-forward 10 months of intense training to prepare for the UA entrance exam.... and really do I even have to mention this?

I mean the only way it could have been even more textually obvious is if Midoriya had been ranked sixth instead of seventh so that his name would be right next to Bakugou's... like there's even this panel explicitly pointing everything out.

So yeah... nothing to add there, *shrugs*

After that came the Quirk Assessment Test:

I'm going to come back to this later on in a more detailed way, but regarding their personal development; Midoriya's development is external while Bakugou's is internal. And I don't quite consider the quirk assessment test as "progress" for any of them yet because both of them sort of completely miss the point.

Aizawa told Midoriya "How can you save anyone if you can't move after one hit?" which had the underlying message of "It's not okay to hurt yourself"... But Midoriya totally went like, "Okay then I'll just hurt myself in a way in which I can still move afterward!" So yeah he is just sidestepping the problem here, but well there probably wasn't anything else he could do here.

As for Bakugou, he had always feel threatened by Midoriya's presence, but not in a fighting skills context. They are not really competing on the same field and it had never occurred to Bakugou that Midoriya could really beat him in a one-to-one fight.

As hilarious as the thought of Bakugou truly believing that somehow Deku had managed to take head on building-high robots quirkless is, I think what really happened is... Bakugou saw his own 0 rescue points and thought "Oh... so that's how Deku got in. Damn nerd probably went and save shitty extras left and right!". Which is a more realistic feat to manage quirkless. Anyway my point is, Bakugou realizing Midoriya isn't quirkless should have been a "Shit! He's leveling the field and standing on my playground now!" moment...

But no, what overpowered him here is the thought that the whole time Midoriya had been hiding his quirk from him and went like "What? Am I not good enough for you to use your quirk on me?! STOP LOOKING DOWN ON ME!!! EXPLAIN YOURSELF RIGHT THE FUCK NOW, SHITTY DEKU!!"

So yeah... kind of missing the point too.

Which is why the quirk assessment test wasn't really their starting point but more like them trying to look for it but missing it?

Speaking of starting lines... Let's move on to the Deku vs. Kacchan first round.

B"From watching the match, it appears Bakugou acted n to surpass Bakugou, All Might pointed that those were the first passionate emotions Midoriya had shown other than "I want to be a hero!". This was the very first moment where Midoriya's desire to win was stronger than his desire to save.

As for Bakugou, this was the moment where he truly he realized that Deku is a threat and not just through his natural heroic/saving disposition like before but on the battlefield which used to be 100% Bakugou's area of expertise. And if even with his non-existent control of quirk Deku had managed to win to such extent, what would happen when Deku managed to truly master his own quirk? Total defeat?! Bakugou is self-aware enough to realize that while his own fighting skills and quirk mastery could still progress, they were already near the top with a not wide enough margin for improvement.

This was the moment where Bakugou realized where he truly stood compared to everyone else around him and that if he wanted to reach the very top again, then only relying on his fighting skills and his quirk control would never be enough. This is what prompted out his feelings of "I have to change or I'll be left in the dust".

And since Deku went and encroached on Bakugou's playground and beat him in the process, there's no way in hell Mr Complete and Irrefutable Win over there wouldn't aim to do exactly the same at some point.

Anyway the two gifs above showed us their motivation to reach their respective Win/Save side of the spectrum, but they both have big issues they need to work on in order to do so.

"From watching the match, it appears Bakugou-san acted on his own because of an obviously personal grudge. As as All Might-sensei said previously, it is foolish to launch a large-scale attack indoors.

In the same way, taking into consideration the damage he received, Midoriya-san's plan was also rash." - Yaoyorozu Momo

Yaoyorozu's analysis was super spot on and hit straight where their weaknesses lie: Bakugou needs to stop acting on his own and learn to cooperate with/trust his teammates and Midoriya needs to stop hurting himself/self-sacrifice and learn to properly control his quirk.

Both of them also have these super heavy shackles that keep pulling them down and impeding their progress at every turn:

Bakugou's complex feelings and emotionally explosive baggage towards Midoriya that makes him go feral and irrational at the drop of a hat and clearly prevents him from properly considering Midoriya as the rival that would keep pulling him up

Midoriya's total and utter idolization of All Might that gives him a tendency to imitate his idol and clearly prevents him from properly realizing and unlocking the potential of his own quirk

And at that point, they clearly don't realize how cumbersome those shackles could be if left unaddressed too long.

Anyway... this episode/chapter was called "Bakugou Katsuki: Starting line", but I think it can be considered both their starting lines, because this is when they were made aware of what they are lacking and showed their resolve to change.

Midoriya's progress and development is intrinsically linked to his quirk mastery and fighting style, which are inherently physical skills (which is where Bakugou's excels in). It stands to reason then that his progress would therefore be very flashy, hard to miss, and highly praised due to the external aspect of his development.

On the other hand Bakugou's progress and development hinges on him properly getting in touch with his emotions and connecting to other people in healthy way, which are inherently inner-strength qualities (which Midoriya has no shortage of) . It stands to reason then that his progress would therefore be very subtle, mostly unnoticed, and hardly taken into account due to the internal aspect of his development. (Like it'd probably only takes him having a full meltdown or throwing himself in front of someone else for other people to notice how far he had gone!)

[rachelbethhines]

Tangled Salt Marathon - Rapunzel and the Great Tree Part 2

Continuing on with the midseason finale of season two.

Part 1 is here  https://rachelbethhines.tumblr.com/post/628826170657570816/tangled-salt-marathon-rapunzel-and-the-great

Summary: After Adira saves Rapunzel and the group from the hurt incarnation, Cassandra makes her suspicions of Adira known which causes a falling out between her and Rapunzel. Meanwhile Hector uses the dormant power of the tree to try and attack everyone. 

Cassandra’s Motivation Doesn’t Aline With Her Later Actions 

If you’re going to have a character do a complete 180 from her original goal, than you need a better reason than just mommy issues; or validation issues, or career problems, or just simply having a falling out, or jealousy, or a ghost girl whispering in your ear, or whatever the fuck they’re trying to do with Cassandra.  

Going from ‘protect’ to ‘murder’ is a huge moral alignment shift that needed clear and reasonable justification. Cassandra is never given that. Instead they just throw everything at the wall that they can think of in the hope that something sticks. 

Only it never does because her original story was re-written at the last minute.   

Well That Was Pointless

Max and Pascal wind up saving Eugene and Lance from the man eating plant. Which adds nothing to the story. It happens and is then never brought up again. It’s just an excuse to write Eugene out of the Cass and Raps conflict and not an extension of either his or Lance’s own narratives. 

That’s a problem, because Eugene should be a main character and Lance an important supporting side character. Instead Eugene is regulated to side character status while Lance is unimportant comic relief. Not only does this ignore that fact that Eugene was the protagonist of the movie same as Rapunzel, but it also ignores the basic writing rule of ‘don’t add in characters who don’t serve a purpose in the story’. 

Adira Just Saved All of Your Asses, Cass

Boy does Adira put up with a lot of bullshit in this show, and 90% of it comes from Cass being a little bitch. 

She has no biases for this argument. Adira hasn’t done anything to warrant this accusation. In fact she’s proven herself time and time again only for Cass to lash out like a spoilt teenager with an inferiority complex. 

And Cassandra is 23!!!    

The young adults on this show are constantly written like pre-teens while the only actual teenager is constantly forced to be the most mature person in the show. 

It’s mind boggling. 

Rapunzel is In the Right Here, But the Show Wants Us to Sympathize with Cass Instead?

Oh No! Raps raised her voice at Cassandra and made her feel bad, you guys. Feel sorry for the poor paranoid baby who who’s acting like a jealous brat for no reason. 

Bull Shit. 

Cassandra not only has nothing to back up her accusation but the narrative never goes on to prove her right either. Adria is on the up and up, and always had been according to Destinies Collide. For all the show’s efforts to make Cass seem reasonable by having Adira mysteriously pop in and out, it all falls flat once you know where everything is heading. 

Plus, even if she were magically right about Adira that wouldn’t excuse her bossing Rapunzel around and insulting her intelligence. Had she done that to me I’d be telling her something a lot harsher than just to knock it off. 

Oh, But I Thought You Said Flashbacks to Corona Would Be Too Confusing?

So one of the writers, Ricky, has gone on record stating that they did originally have plans to show flashbacks to Corona to show what was going on with Rapunzel’s parents, Varian, and the Saporians. He then said they dropped them because they feared that it would be too confusing for the audience. 

Yet we get this pointless scene thrown into the middle of the mid-season finale. 

And by the looks of it it’s before even Beginnings, or maybe after Beginnings, who knows; so it’s not just a change of scene, it’s also a change in time as well. A point in the timeline that’s not been firmly established enough. So it not only has less reasons to exist then a Varian flashback would, but it’s also potentially more confusing than what a simple single episode set in Corona would have been. 

I don’t know who to blame for this poor decision making, if it’s just Chris, Chris and Ben, or a shared blame with all of the writers, but while the buck does stop with Chris, much of what Ricky has said online doesn’t reflect very well on his writing skills. Cause that’s a huge and utter bullshit excuse. 

So What Does This Add, Exactly?

Cass gives Rapunzel this purse as a gift. A purse that’s not been shown to be all that important before and isn’t made significant again. Then Raps launches into this speech about how good a friend Cass is and how lost she’d be without her. 

I understand what the thought process for this was; it’s to show how far Raps and Cass have grown apart recently and what Cassandra herself liked about being friends with Rapunzel to being with, which was the validation boost of being useful and needed; but there’s a lot of problems with including it here. 

For starters, lack of validation isn’t enough to suddenly switch into ‘kill mode’ which is where all of this is eventually leading.  

Validation shouldn’t be the foundation of any long term relationship and so rather than proving how good of a friend they are to each other, you’ve only given futher reason for why they’re toxic together. 

You needed to be building them up all throughout season one before launching into this break up plot. This scene is too little too late because we’ve spent too many episodes tearing Raps and Cass down for this plot to have the effect that they wanted it to. 

Cassandra is just doing her job. She’s suppose to show Rapunzel around and help her with shit, that’s what a lady in waiting does. Cassandra’s friendship with Rapunzel shouldn’t be so tied to her career trajectory to begin with. Not only is it unhealthy but it then is used to victim-blame Rapunzel for all of Cassandra’s problems. Even though the only thing actually holding Cass back is herself, as proven in season three. 

Timeline Confirmed

So it is indeed six months since Secret of the Sun Drop, give or take a few days to organize stuff before the trip. Meaning we’re now a year out from Before Happily Ever After. I point this out now, in order to prove something later on. 

This Logically Should Have Been the End of the Argument, But the Writers are Dragging Things Out Needlessly 

You know what I hate more than a ‘lack of communication causes drama' trope? Characters taking the time to communicate and still missing the bloody point and not resolving anything. 

Technically, Rapunzel is still in the right. She is an autonomous person capable of making decisions for herself, and Cass does need to get over herself and treat Rapunzel as such and stop getting butt hurt over not being the one in charge. 

But then we have to ruin that message by throwing in this line. 

Like, yes you’re technically in charge here Raps, but making decisions shouldn’t mean walking all over someone's feelings either. Being a leader is just as much about listening as it is about taking charge and neither of these characters understand that yet. 

And they never will, cause the writing for them is shit. 

When I first saw season two I honestly believe that this would tie into Rapunzel’s previous conflicts regarding responsibility and hypocrisy. I thought they had an arc here about learning to balance assertiveness and personal boundaries, with genuine compassion and respect for others. Had they went through with that then this could have been something truly special, but they go and throw it all away come season three. Now its just heartbreak and frustrating to watch. 

Also Stupid ‘Sisters’ Plot Foreshadowing 

More on this later, but just know if you hate the idea of calling Raps and Cass sisters then blame Chris. 

This Song Underlines The Core Problem With Cassandra's Arc

There’s no stakes.

I’ve already discussed at length now about how Cassandra’s goals and motivations are inconsistent, and how her actions don’t line up. But the reason the writers are struggling so hard to find something that fits her, is because the story has grown past her. 

We’ve already seen characters who struggle with poverty, homelessness, neglect/abuse, and oppression. There are now tons of people in the story who are fighting just for survival, and they’re all regulated to either supporting roles, one off appearances, or are background characters. 

So with that in mind what is there to justify Cassandra getting focus over them? What is she struggling with here that deserves more screen time and attention than, Eugene, Varian, Lady Caine, or even Adira? 

Cassandra isn’t poor. She lives well off in the castle and has high ranking connections. She’s not even struggling with a job she hates anymore because we’ve already seen her promoted to the one she wanted by this point.  

Cassandra isn’t homeless, she once again lives in the castle and if she chooses to leave she has plenty of opportunities waiting for her, as evidenced by Goodbye and Goodwill and Beginnings. Plus she’s shown to be capable of supporting herself both in this season and the next.  

Cassandra isn’t oppressed. She can leave anytime she wants to. She can defy the king's orders in SotSD because she’s the princesses’s bestie. She doesn’t face jail or hanging just because she and Raps has a fight now and then. 

The only thing going for her is possibly neglect/abuse, but that’s not been introduced into the story yet and isn’t what she’s discussing here. It also contradicts what was previously established between her and Cap in season one when it does come into play. 

Validation Alone is Not Enough to Connect With Most of the Audience 

Even the stanchest of Cassandra supporter often has to heavily project onto her in order to connect with her. Which isn’t a bad thing in of itself. Everyone projects to some degree or other when exploring media, that’s part of being human. But the problem is that because she’s so thinly written you’re left with little else but projection. And so you’ll hear excuses like, well she’s fighting the class system, she’s an abuse survivor, or she deserves to lash out over not getting what she wants when she’s worked so hard for it. But none of those excuses are actually presented on screen. 

Cassandra doesn’t fight against the class system. If she did she would be fighting for everyone. She’d be singing about everyone’s problems not just her own. 

Cassandra’s past abuse is just slapped on at the last minute and then disregarded when convenient. It doesn’t actually factor into the decisions she makes later on.  

Also, you don’t deserve anything just because you ‘work hard’ nor because you just really, really want it. 

It’s that point that I really take issue with. 

On the surface Cassandra should be the most relatable person in the show. I mean what young adult or teen living in this post apocalyptic nightmare of a capitalist dystopia not ever felt disappointed over not getting the job they wanted or not being given enough positive validation while crushed underneath mounting unrealistic expectations. It’s the main reason why so many of her supporters are teenagers and LGBT+. 

But all of those worries stem from something deeper than just a lack of positive reinforcement. 

You know why I had to give up on my career as an animator?

It didn’t pay benefits. 

I had medical issues and needed health insurance, but since most animation is commissioned and/or contract based, particularly if you live/work on the east coast, then you’re not going to get that most of the time. And this is after spending the majority of my time in college homeless, living out of my car, crashing on friends and families couches. I did this for three fucking years because I didn’t want to wind up in a textile mill or a carpet factory like everyone I else knew growing up, and I was told my whole life that if I went to school and worked hard enough I could have a well paying job that I enjoyed and got me away from my abusive home life. 

People like me, we’re bitter over not getting the jobs we wanted or the support we needed, not because we believe we’re special and therefore deserve it or some such bullshit, but because our very lives are dependent upon it! We’re victims of a class system that lets you starve if you don't find work. Where you’ll be trapped in abusive situations cause you can’t afford a home on your own. Where simply being yourself can be dangerous as there are people who vocally want to deny us rights and even kill us. 

Cass is an entitled whiny brat in canon because she doesn’t have any of those underlying issues. She doesn’t face real discrimination, oppression, poverty, or the looming threat of death hanging over her. She’s just throwing a temper tantrum. 

Once Again Adira is Saving Your Butt Cass

Adira is quickly becoming one of my favorite characters in the marathon. I’m sorry I didn’t appreciate her more when I first watched the show. 

Also, I’m Sorry I Didn’t Recognize the Awesomeness That Is Hector Until Now Either.

Like this is a good conflict. They both have legitimate reasons for what they do. They’re both in the right here. That’s what makes them interesting. 

They’re both fighting for something. They’re home and the belief that they can fix things, vs the fate of the world and their loyalty to both the cause and their family. All on top of having their own relationship issues. 

Hector so should have been the main villain of season two, because he just has the most reason to be opposed to the mains’ goal. 

That’s more than whatever Cass and Raps are fighting about. The only thing at stake there is their friendship, which isn’t that big of deal when you compare it to the lives and safety of billions of people. 

Plus Hector’s just flat out entertaining. 

Why is Everybody Just Standing Around Doing Nothing Here?

Fucking do something you lugnuts!!!

You’re all capable fighters. You’ve all taken down much harder enemies than one lone guy and two bearcats. Why aren’t you helping Cass fight back? Or heck, if you wanted Cass to face Hector alone then have her be a distraction so that the others can escape. Anything but having them just stand there and be useless!

Yet Again I Have to Ask Why Should Cass Care? 

Or rather why should the audience care? 

Cass isn’t a lady in waiting just because some random jerk who's already taunting her and trying to kick her ass calls her such. Hector’s not from Corona and has no knowledge of Cassandra’s life beyond what he may have heard repeated by Adiria (who is also not from Corona) or what Cass herself said in her very metaphorical song.  Nor does either them have a say in how Cass’s career goes. 

If you want to push the narrative that Cass is still a lady-in-waiting and a maid, despite having earned Cap’s approval and being appointed by the king to guard Rapunzel, then you damn well need to establish that among the mains. 

Or you know, stop trying to go back on what you’ve set up in season one. 

So How Is This Suppose To Work?

So from the backstory that we get on both the Tree and Zhan Tiri herself, this shouldn’t happen. Like Zhan Tiri is currently trapped in another dimension and according to season three she has no possession powers herself. 

Now the tree itself is said to be sentient and that Zhan Tiri took control of it, but how? How is a tree sentient? Why is it sentient? How did Zhan Tiri bend it to her will? Why is it still under her control while she’s been trapped in another dimension for hundreds of years? Why and how does the spear keep it dormant? Why does the tree itself have possession powers when Zhan Tiri has none? Is there any connection between this Great Tree and the cursed tree that was suppose to free Zhan Tiri back in Painter’s Block? If so then why are these things never brought back into play during season three? 

Give me answers damn it! 

Now This is a Good Conflit, Shame It’s Never Resolved 

Both have valid reasons to do what they do. Both are neither right nor wrong. Both however wind up getting in the way of each other because neither will listen or trust the other. 

Rapunzel thinks that this will stop Hector, and she is right it does, but more importantly she chooses this route because it gives everyone else a chance to run away. The problem is that she can’t control it, but from her point of view that’ll only put her and Hector at risk if everyone else will just do as she says and leaves. 

Cassandra thinks the spear will stop it because it’s done so before, and that’s a logical assumption. It also means that Rapunzel herself won’t be in any danger, though the others might. Cass can’t free everyone at once like Rapunzel can. It’ll also be a threat to herself, and there’s the risk that tree will stop her before she can deal the final blow.  

So what’s happening on a personal level is that Rapunzel thinks taking charge means that everyone needs to follow her say without question. Cassandra thinks Rapunzel should listen to her more, not because Rapunzel needs to listen better in general, but because she doesn’t feel Rapunzel is mature enough to make big decisions and that she herself should be in charge of the group. Both girls feel superior to the other and above other people as well, because they’re convinced they’re always right. 

Had this been the actual conflict that they went with in season three, had they actually had both characters held accountable for their actions and learn something, and hadn’t dragged innocent people into their bullshit with so much as a ‘by your leave’ or ‘I’m sorry’; then this might have been a decent story. Perhaps not as impactful as Varian’s, but still meaningful, thoughtful, and well, coherent. 

But that’s not what they did, and we’ll see no real resolution to this disagreement. 

So Why Is No One Affected By the Hurt Incantation This Time?

Eugene here was injured by the tree earlier, that’s why he’s past out, but everyone else remains unharmed by Rapunzel’s singing. Even though just last episode everyone around her were dying from it, and again in the season finale everyone dies from said incantation. But here and in Rapunzel’s Return, Rapunzel can use the incantation without harming anyone nearby so, how does that work? 

Some people have suggested that when Rapunzel focuses her hair on a target like the tree here or the amber later, that it doesn’t spread to other people, but that’s never stated on screen so it’s still a flaw. 

 Well This Goes Nowhere 

I think the writers just like throwing in shocking ‘twists’ and moments like this just for the sake of looking edgy and ‘deep’ but then they never actually follow through on the impact of such moments on the characters nor consider the more troubling implications of including them. 

I grew up on Gargoyles, Batman the Animated Series, the 90s X-Men Cartoon, and The Pirates of Dark Water. I’ve seen far more shocking and edgy stuff than this when I was six years old. In many ways the american animated tv landscape has regressed since the early 2000s when it comes to more mature cartoons, and no that’s not a complaint about modern cartoons being bad; some are good some are bad, just like its always been; but that culturally we’ve shied away more from darker moments like this and we’ve having to push for them all over again in media.   

But the difference between Tangled and those 90s cartoons I’ve mentioned is that Tangled’s darker moments are misplaced. It clashes horribly with the more comedic route that the series usually takes and as such they don’t get the focus that they need too. 

After season two is done, Cass’s hand will never be mentioned again. It does not tie into her later motivations at all nor influences her actions. Throughout the series she’ll be able to use it easily without consequence. We don't even get any on screen confirmation if it’s healed by grabbing the moonstone, by the sundrop incarnation in the finale, or if she just forever has a burnt arm. That’s how little importance it is to the story. 

This Also Goes Nowhere

Hector calls out this warning but it’s then never followed up on. Adira is proven not to be a liar at all and nobody in the group is actually doomed. Yes the wider world is put in jeopardy, but that’s Cass’s fault not Adira’s. 

The writers were too focused on making Adira the red herring for Cassandra that they forgot to make her an actual person, with wants, feelings, desires, goals, and a life beyond her mission. She’s never shown helping her family and barely interacts with them, she’s never given a reason for why she keeps disappearing, and the idea that she’s doing this to save her home is just supposition on my part because otherwise she has no reason. The series never gives us one. 

And ‘Destiny’ Is Not A Fucking Reason!!!

Oh, So Adira Will Help Hector But Not Quirin or Varian?

If Hector and Adira consider each other siblings because they’re both in the Brotherhood, than logically Adira would consider Quirin her brother as well, and Varian would be her nephew. 

She was around long enough to see the final battle in SotSD. That’s why she appears at the end of that episode, how she knows Rapunzel is the sundrop and has ‘seen her power’, and how she knows that the group has met both Quirin and Varian before now. 

She knows that Quirin is trapped in amber. She knows her nephew has been arrested by a kingdom with a poor track record of punishing orphaned teens and poor people with overly harsh sentences. So why didn't she do anything there? 

We find out during season three that the black rocks can cut through the amber, and its established that Adira’s sword can cut through the rocks, so clearly she didn’t even try to save Quirin has just given him up for dead. But there’s no reason why she couldn’t have broken Varian out of the prison and taken her with him. 

In fact Adira hiding Varian from the rest of the group during season two would have been an actual reason for her disappearance and an actual reason not to trust her. That would have upped the stakes and given Cass reasons for what she does. Plus more time for Varian’s redemption, more chances to call out Rapunzel and Fredric on their BS, and ties seasons one and two together better. 

Seriously leaving Varian out of season two was the dumbest decision in television. Putting Varian back in actually fixes everything in the show. 

The Real Reason for the Burnt Hand is a Costume Change for Cass

I don’t know if she even got merchandise for this costume.   

Conclusion 

Much like season one’s arc episodes, The Great Tree held a lot of promise that was then completely wasted by season three. It’s also one of the very few episodes in the season to have actual stakes and conflict so it easily jumps to the top of the pile. But what it sets up is then never resolved or expounded upon, making it a waste. 

Next up we’ll have the mid season recap. 

[mulletcal]

if my heart had a voice - a (bi/aro) calum hood blurb.

a/n: okay so i’ve had this idea in my brain for so, so long and i had hesitated a lot writing it but i’d like to give a special thank you to: @frontmanash​, @softbabiestan​, @sexgodashton​, @goth5sos​, and @irwinkitten​​ for giving me motivation and being so sweet while i wrote this, i appreciate all of you so, so much you have no idea.

this is my first time writing something like this, so i hope you enjoy. it’s a genderless reader insert!

word count: 2.6k

warnings: struggles with romantic orientation, mentions of smut but no actual smut.

---

Friends with benefits - it’s something that sounds easy in theory, but movies and TV shows would lead you to believe otherwise.  Complicated was a word that was often associated with it as well, stating that no two people could simply have sex, that feelings would always end up involved.

That wasn’t the case for Calum, well, not really.  He had met you, and the two of you hit it off right away.  You talked into all hours of the night until the sun came up about anything and everything; he felt heard, he felt appreciated, he realistically felt what most people would deem as a crush, or romantic attraction.  Calum couldn’t bring himself to call it that though, because that’s not how it seemed to him.  It felt natural when the two of you fell into bed together, a tangle of limbs and breathy moans, but he never was drawn to the idea of asking you to be his partner.  You never seemed to mind either, which Calum was grateful for; he had so many questions that constantly circulated through his mind, he wasn’t sure if he was ready for a conversation about why he didn’t want more with you.

Calum’s racing thoughts seemed to never cease, a constant question of why didn’t he want more with you; or simply why he never wanted more with anyone.  His last relationship ended because what he thought was love turned out to be nothing more than just a physical attraction, lips never parted long enough to sort out emotions before it was too late.  Love had been uttered in a fruitless attempt to keep her around long enough to hopefully truly feel something, but it never worked. 

Another Saturday night rolled around, and the two of you had started a movie you never saw the end of, too distracted with exploring each others’ bodies.  Seeing you lie next to him, chest heaving with a small smile on your face brought a smile to his own lips, admiring you basking in the glow from the TV screen.  Calum often wondered what you were like around your other friends, if you made them laugh as hard as he did, or would also text them in the middle of the night with a random thought or meme.  Panic crept up on him at the thought, suddenly fully aware that he could be caught up in some sort of TV trope - did you have romantic feelings for him? Was there a possibility of losing you forever if he didn’t reciprocate the feelings?

His mind couldn’t settle that night, tossing and turning, mind racing at the thought of losing you.  Would he lose you? Banished to a new level of weird and uncomfortable - running into someone in public who you know has seen you naked, or even more seen your face when you’re about to fall over the edge. 

Morning came much too soon, and Calum sighed, glancing over to you as the sun came streaming in through the curtains and casting you in some sort of ethereal glow.  Maybe if he went to make some breakfast rather than staring at you it could help to clear his head.  It wasn’t often that you decided to stay for breakfast, but he hoped that sharing a warm meal together would encourage him or sway him one way or the other - to talk to you, or maybe feel something more romantic towards you.

Stretching as you came into the kitchen, you smiled at the sight of Calum there flipping pancakes, “Eating for two, are you? Calum, is there something you’re not telling me?” You faked a gasp, laughing lightly.  He swatted at you with the spatula, just barely missing you.

Calum knew you could sense something off with him, just by the way you carried yourself about the kitchen, taking a seat at the island.  Your movements were gentle, calculated, as if one small thing could set him off - not that had ever happened, but you were walking on eggshells and he knew he needed to say something.

The two of you ate in silence for the first few minutes, Calum glancing up at you to make sure that you were enjoying the food alright. 

“Can I ask you something?” Calum had stopped eating, a serious expression on his face, causing you to put your fork down.

“I was going to pull the old ‘you just did’ bit but it doesn’t seem like the time for that,” you chuckled, tucking your chair in so you could lean your chin on your hand. “What’s up?”

“What’s wrong with me?” He asked, worrying his lower lip between his teeth.

You furrowed your brow, slightly confused, “I’m not following.”

“Like… I’ve been thinking a lot lately. I broke up with my last girlfriend because while I felt a connection and we got along great, the… romance just wasn’t there? I’ve gone on dates, and there’s nothing. I thought it was just that I was going on shitty dates, but then I met you - you have all the qualities I could want in a partner, and clearly I’m attracted to you; but I don’t find myself wanting to be involved… romantically?” Calum was playing with his fingers, not meeting your eyes. “I hope that doesn’t hurt you.”

You laughed lightly, reaching across to take his hand in your own to stop the wringing of his hands, “Calum I’m not offended, not in the slightest. What we have going on is good, but I understand if you want to stop that too.”

“I don’t-” He said quickly, laughing as he scratched the back of his head.  “I feel like it sounds like such a stereotypical dude thing to say that I’m cool with continuing to have sex with no emotional attachment.  Not that I don’t feel anything towards you, I just-”

“Calum, I get it,” You grinned.  “I hope you know I wasn’t here looking for love, yeah? Me and you get on great, and the sex is great.  But if I wanted a boyfriend, I would have told you from the start, I promise.” Your reassuring words had Calum letting out a breath he wasn’t aware that he was holding, squeezing your hand that was still in his.

“I just feel like I’m… Cold, I guess? For not wanting more?”

“Love, you’re the least cold person I know.  You’re so genuine and kind, and you have so much love for your friends and family.  You’re so cuddly, always down to hold hands, or just hold someone if they need to be held. It’d be different if you didn’t show you care, but you do in the ways that matter.”

Your answer seemed to be good enough for Calum, because he went back to eating with a small smile on his lips.

It helped to ease Calum’s worry that he was going to lose you because of how he felt, but the lingering question in the back of his head ate away at him of why he felt the way he did; also, why it was just bothering him now.  So, when you left,  he did what any millennial would think to do: he Googled it. 

He wasn’t sure what to search for at first - it wasn’t something like an ache or pain in his body where you could look up ‘shoulder pain’ and find out you only had 4 days to live.  It seemed much more complicated, to put into words how he felt; but he ended up settling on ‘lack of romantic attraction’, and he was shocked to find that it was, indeed, a thing.  Calum had learned within minutes of his Google search that this wasn’t just a ‘one or the other’ kind of thing, but that there was a whole variety of people.  It made his chest warm to read blog posts of people coming to terms with their romantic orientation, seeing how many had struggles similar to his own.  The term ‘Aromantic’ seemed the most fitting to him, and he liked the idea that maybe one day romance could happen, but if it never did he wasn’t weird for wanting the physical only.

**

It was a few after Calum had come to his realization about his orientation overall, and he found himself as he usually did - in his backyard with Ashton, a couple cups of coffee deep while they both scribbled into their songwriting notebooks.  He knew that none of his friends would judge him, they may be a little confused because no one in their group had “different” romantic orientations - they simply assumed they’d end up with a partner one way or another.

Ashton had been in the middle of a thought when Calum interrupted, “Hey Ash?”

Ashton furrowed his brows, eyes lifting from the page to look at his friend, “Yeah?”

“You ever heard of the term ‘aromantic’?”

“I don’t believe so, why?” Ashton placed his pen inside his book, closing it to give Calum his full attention.

“I’ve been kinda struggling a lot lately, doin’ a lot of self reflection and all that,” He started, letting out a heavy breath before he continued, “It seems like a term that really resonates with me.”

Calum couldn’t really read the expression on Ashton’s face, instead being met with the man’s furrowed brow and fingers lightly drumming on the cool metal of the table. 

“What does it mean?” Ashton was now leaning on his elbows, more engaged in the conversation.

“In like… Simpler terms, it mainly just means lack of romantic attraction.” Ashton’s face read a little confused, but Calum carried on anyway, “I’ve learnt in the last few days that there’s a difference in sexual orientation and romantic orientation.  With my last girlfriend, I thought I loved her, but it was more about the sex than anything. I d’know if it really sums me up, but you know my whole friends with benefits scenario.  I thought it would make sense for me to fall in love with them.”

“But you haven’t? Fallen in love with them, I mean.”

“No, which is what led me to this point to begin with.  If I were to make a list of everything I’d want in a partner, they would check all the boxes.  I do care for them, deeply and genuinely, but it’s not in a romantic sense - more of a ‘you’re one of my best friends in the whole world, and sometimes we fuck’.” Calum hadn’t realized how red he had gotten, but it definitely made him fan himself as he let out a small chuckle, “I’m sorry, that was… A lot of information.”

When Ashton broke out into his signature grin, Calum couldn’t help but to mirror it with his own grin, “Well brother, you know I love you and support you no matter what you choose to do.  I told you I’d help you hide a body, but I do hope it never comes to that point.  Just don’t be an asshole and I’m always here for you.”

Calum laughed again, rubbing a hand over his face, “That made me so fucking nervous man.  When I was thinking about it, I was kinda like ‘this sounds so cold’.”

Ashton cut him off from going any further with a scoff, “We all know that’s the last thing you are.” With that, Ashton reopened his book and continued on with a lyric he was talking about previously; and Calum couldn’t wipe the grin off of his face.

Over the next few days, Calum had told his friends individually - being met with open arms and plenty of questions. Of course he didn’t mind, but it was relieving to him to feel like things were going back to normal, and he was starting to feel more like himself again.  He hadn’t gotten to see you since that morning at his house, but he had texted you to tell you about his new findings - your congratulating text in return, saying how you loved him and were proud of him, had him grinning the rest of the day.

The Fourth of July came quicker than any of them had anticipated, and Calum’s group of friends scrambled to come up with some last minute plans.  You had to work during the day, so you would miss the planned barbeque at Michael’s house, but you would be off in time to meet them at the local park to watch the fireworks that Calum had seen a sign for a few days prior.

There was nothing easier for Calum than being around his friends; and while he knew they accepted him and easily accepted his realization about his romantic orientation, he still worried.  Worried that things would be different, or they would feel the need to treat him differently.  But as he sat there, beer in hand, warmth washed over him when he noticed no palpable tension in the air; instead his ears rang with Ashton’s giggle as he laid on the lawn with South and Moose, wrestling with the two dogs.

With everyone thoroughly fed (and a majority tipsy), they all decided to make the small trek to the park, Calum offering to walk with Moose along the way - his secret favourite of Michaels’ dogs, though he’d never say so.

It was long after they had gotten there did you arrive, the sun finally starting to set to hopefully cut through some of the heat from the day. Moose launched herself at you to signal your arrival, which in turn set off South - before you knew it you were on the ground being bathed in puppy kisses.

“Quite the welcome,” You teased, scooping up South into your arms when the pair had finally eased up.

“They know how to roll out a welcome mat, what can we say,” Calum laughed, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek, enveloping you in a warm hug.  The hug was more rigid than you were used to from Calum, and it gave you a weird sense of tension off of him.

Sitting down next to him, you frowned when you noticed his breathing was shallow on top of the weird tension that was coming off of him in waves, “Are you okay?” You never hesitated to be honest with Calum, and you’d hoped that he’d be as honest as he was that morning, especially if something was wrong.

Calum nodded, pursing his lips in thought for a beat before finally speaking, “This is just the first time I’ve seen you since that morning, I just wanted to make sure we were good.  I know I haven’t been the best at keeping up communication lately.”

“You were never much of a talker, love,” Your shoulder nudged his, prompting him to look at you.  “We’re good… Never better, I’d say.”

Calum’s shoulders visibly relaxed, his wide, charming smile reappearing on his lips.

“There’s the squishy man I know and love,” You said, reaching your fingers up to pinch his cheeks.  “You gonna come lay here like they’re doing or what?”

Glancing around, Calum saw everyone paired up one way or another, couples and best friends alike had one person leaning against the other; the last bit of sunlight casting a glow over all of them.  A feeling of calm settled over the crowd, and Calum especially - he had waited to feel like he had purpose, waited to feel wanted.  As he settled against you, you began to play with his hair gently; and he understood that his purpose was just to be who he was - a man who loved his friends and family wholeheartedly, to want what was best for others, rather than want for himself alone.

tag list:  @haikucal​ @talkfastromance4​ @softbabiestan​ @boyfriend-cal​ @calum-uncrowned​ @wildflowerirwin​ @irwindoll​ @gosh-im-short​ @atlcalm​ @thesubtweeter​ @heavenisapeach​ @ridingcthood​ @loveroflrh​ @mantlereid​ @inlovehoodx​ @irwinkitten​ @n-ctarinenga​​ @g-l-pierce​ @thecurlsofgod​

[julemmaes]

PP Elucien drabble 5.5

A/N: Is it possible for me to write “I fucking hate Tamlin so much I swear.” at the beginning of each drabble I post? Cause OH MY GOD MY HATRED FOR THIS MAN HAS NO LIMIT.

This is what happens to the other couples involved in the story, the same night Cassian and Nesta fight at the end of chapter five (which, if you missed, I posted yesterday). I’ll probably end up posting the Feylin pov’s either tonight or tomorrow, cause this part is pretty important for our sweet and dear Feysand.

Enjoy!:)

Fic masterlist

Word count: 2,141

Elain felt Lucien's eyes on the side of her face as if he were touching her.

They had just got into the car, after being at Tamlin's for his birthday. He had already celebrated last weekend, but Feyre had invited them to her boyfriend's house because she didn't want him to spend the day he was actually born all alone brooding on his couch.

They had had fun in the beginning, as they had been doing for ten years now, but things had gotten out of hand when Feyre had started to be a little too high on booze and Tamlin had gotten angry.

When she could no longer stand that ghostly touch of fire on her cheek, she snapped, "Stop starring at me." she kept her gaze fixed on the road ahead of her as Lucien drove through the traffic in Velaris.

She caught a glimpse of him as he ran his hand through his loose hair, sighing in frustration, "I'll stop looking at you if you tell me what the problem is."

She had to try her best to remain calm, "You know very well what the problem is."

"Lainy-" he huffed.

She shot her head at him, "Don't you Lainy me."

Lucien turned to her, looking at her with a tight expression, "C'mon, she was just too drunk."

"That has nothing to do with what happened." Elain gritted out, "And you backed him up." she said in a sharp voice, as she crossed her arms on her chest, still unable to believe what had just happened.

Elain was trying to have fun but it had been months since she felt the slightest urge to go out with her little group of high school friends, now reduced to just her and her sister plus their respective boyfriends. Every person who had abandoned them over the years moved further and further away from her every time she mentioned those in her close circle.

All night she had been trying to lean on Lucien, to find affection in the physical contact he was normally so willing to give her, yet he seemed to move away every time she tried to touch his arm, to leave a kiss on his lips, on his cheek.

Feyre was positively drunk and they were playing poker, a dangerous game, if you asked Elain. They hadn't played for so long, but she still remembered perfectly all the times they had done it. All the times Tamlin had taken advantage of his skill and emptied everyone's pockets. All the times they had played a slightly hotter and sexier version of the game and it was always over with him hitting anyone who tried to watch Feyre.

His little sister had proposed just that that night and Elain could already see the wrath in Tamlin's eyes.

Lucien shrugged, turning right towards his house, "Cause it was her fault."

Elain brought her hands to her face, rubbing her cheeks, taking a deep breath, "I swear that if you blame my sister one more time" she murmured, suggesting how angry she really was at that moment.

Her boyfriend immediately got on the defensive, "I'm not trying to blame Feyre. "

She looked at him with a confused grimace on her face, "You literally just said it was her fault."

"I'm just saying that she could have behaved differently," Lucien pointed out, looking at her starkly.

Feyre burst out laughing, pushing all her chips to the center of the table and uncovering the cards. Tamlin grunted next to her, "You lost again."

Elain giggled, taking a sip of wine, "You have to take your shirt off."

Lucien glanced at her and then huffed the air out of his nose, "We can just play with money, we don't have to -" seeing the murderous look his best friend gave him, he grew small on the chair, mumbling the end of the sentence.

Feyre laughed louder, grabbing the edge of her tank top and pulling it up to her chin, uncovering her breasts covered by a simple black sports bra. Lucien immediately looked away, certainly exposing, but she and Elain broke out laughing.

"Okay, that's enough." Tamlin grumbled.

Elain opened her eyes wide, looking astonished, "Do you even hear yourself?"

Lucien raised an eyebrow, "What?"

"Could've behaved differently?" she repeated, imitating his voice. Then she shook her head, bringing her attention back to the road, "No, fuck you."

"Elain, you're acting like a child," he huffed, running a hand through his hair again.

She replied in an irritated tone, "And to me, it seems like you're trying so hard to be Tamlin. And it disgusts me."

He looked at her surprised, "You- I'm not-"

"Yes, you are." she murmured, "And what's worst is that you don't even do that on purpose anymore. You do that so you feel accepted and so that he keeps you under his wing." she snapped, realizing too late that what she had said would provoke such a reaction in Lucien, who closed his mouth and clutched the steering wheel in his hands, remaining silent.

Elain noticed that she had hit a weak spot and felt guilty, "I'm sorry, Luce."

He waved a hand in between them, "Don't be." he whispered in a softer voice, "I was being a douche."

She smiled slightly, "Keep talking." prompting him to continue, "I like where this is going."

"Stop it." he jokingly told her, addressing her with a half smile. She put her hand on his leg, squeezing his thigh. He placed his hand on hers, intertwining their fingers.

"I just don't understand how you can think that what Tamlin does is right," said Elain, in a calmer voice, looking for his gaze, "You'd never treat me that way."

"Then just strip naked and do a lap dance for Lucien while you're at it." Tamlin shouted.

Feyre looked at him with her eyes wide open, before bursting out laughing with tears in her eyes. Elain had covered her mouth with her hand so as not to spit out all the wine on the table, but it had proved impossible when Feyre had mocked Tamlin, turning to Lucien, "If you move off the table, I can straddle you."

Her boyfriend had been too embarrassed to even say no and had just sat there staring at Feyre. Tamlin had grabbed her by the arm and had made her stand up, eliciting a cry of pain from her sister.

Elain had immediately stopped laughing and stood up in turn, followed by Lucien, who had finally put his hand around her waist. Not because he wanted to, she noticed a little later, but because she had taken a step towards the couple and he was trying to stop her.

"You're pissing me off." Tamlin snarled, taking Feyre's clothes and pulling her towards his bedroom.

Elain had tried to talk, to tell him to leave her alone, that everyone was having a good time, but Lucien had blocked her and told her that maybe they should have left.

By the time they got out of the apartment, the screaming had started and Elain could not say who was yelling the loudest.

Lucien spoke very quietly, but there was a hint of amusent there, "No, I wouldn't dare." he said as if he was afraid of how she would react if he even tried to treat her that way.

Elain felt the hairs on her neck rise, "That's not the point," she specified, "even if I was defenceless you'd never do that." she snatched her hand from his leg, carrying it between her thighs to warm up, "That's lack of respect at its best and I'm worried for Feyre."

"Something happened?"

"You know it did. Last week." she pointed it out to him. When he still seemed confused, she said, "When you called me and we fought over the phone." understanding lit Lucien's eyes, who nodded slightly, "See? You can't even remember it because it happens so often we don't even keep count."

"I think he was right." he asserted, "He told me she was flirting with some other guy."

Elain couldn't understand if he was doing it on purpose to make her angry, "And you believe him because?"

"Because he's my best friend and she always does things like that." he said it as if Feyre's behavior was something repulsive.

"I'll overlook the fact that you just offended my sister," she whispered threateningly, "but you shouldn't believe everything Tamlin tells you."

He looked at her, snorting, "Why shouldn't I?" he asked, sincerely curious to know her motives, "He's always been by her side and helped her with everything in recent years, the least she could do is do the little he asks of her."

There were so many wrong things in what Lucien had just said.

"Because that's the way he is." Elain exclaimed exasperatedly, "He gives you everything without asking you for anything in return and then after a while he expects you to treat him like a god." she clenched her fists on her legs, "Plus, he's studying law, he's doing of his best quality," she uttered that word with indignation, implying that it was absolutely not a good quality, but quite the opposite, "the perfect job."

Her boyfriend did not answer, as they stopped at a traffic light and tied his hair in a high ponytail, so she continued, driven by her hatred for the blond man that Lucien seemed to idolize so much, "He is literally studying to lie so successfully that he can free murderers and impostors."

"Don't make it sounds bad. I'm studying law too." he pointed out to her.

Elain chuckled, "First, you are studying environmental law, love," she stroked his face briefly, "you want to save animals." he smiled at her, looking at her tirelessly. "Second, do you really believe that everything Tamlin says is the truth? Because I know that he can twist anything to his heart's content. He has done it several times with you, too."

Lucien huffed, rubbing his hand over his face and touching her nose with his fingertip, "Listen I really don't want their fucked up relationship to intervene in ours, fine?" then looked her in the eyes and smiled lovingly, sighing, "I love you Elain and-".

The words were out before she could stop them, "You do?"

His expression changed completely and he blinked quickly, taken aback, "Of course I do, what are you talking about?"

Elain frowned, "Nothing, I was just," she shook her head, shutting her eyes and turning towards the window, "Sorry, I'm a little bit tipsy too."

There were moments of silence, then Lucien whispered, "And we fight everytime they do."

"Yeah, cause you say stuff like that." perhaps she had used a too rough tone because Lucien made a frustrated sound that echoed in the cockpit.

"This is why I don't want to talk about it." his eyes were wide open and he seemed on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

"So you're suggesting we stop talking about serious things because we see them in a different way?" she drawled, irked as a little kitten, "Yeah, that sounds very healthy."

"I'm trying to make things work here." he said, looking over at her.

She scoffed, "Maybe they shouldn't if you think this is the right way to do it."

Everything seemed to come to an halt, "What do you mean?" he stammered.

"Nothing." Elain hurried to say, puffing and creating a cloud of steam with her breath.

She had never felt him as insecure as she did in that moment when he asked, "You wanna break up with me?"

She looked at him immediately, shaking her head frantically, "No, baby, I really don't." and that was the truth, "I'm just exhausted and Tamlin pushed me over the edge."

Lucien didn't seem so convinced as he finally parked in front of his building, but he nodded once, before looking intensely into her eyes, "You know I love you, right?"

She gave him the brightest smile she could before she whispered, "Yes, I know."

She leaned toward his seat, putting her hand behind the back of his head to pull him to her. Lucien closed his eyes as Elain took control of that kiss. She opened her lips slightly and their tongues entwined.

When they were both panting for air, Lucien bit her lower lip, murmuring against her mouth, "Do you wanna watch a movie?"

Elain kissed him again, longing for everything he could give her, "I'd rather do other things, actually."

"Mh," he put his hand on her thigh, caressing his way up to her hip, "like what?"

Elain was far faster than him to reach his hottest part, palming him through his jeans, "Like this?"

He smirked, moaning when she pushed a little harder against his lenght, "I like the idea."

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[sunareii]

masterlist ➛ next

suna intended to slack around his room during the whole spring break, unfortunately for him his mom had other plans, a small trip to hyogo to kyoto for a good few days to visit one old relative. he had no desire and reason to be there, well maybe because his mom forced him to or maybe because of a girl he met

a girl that believes in chances gives him a chance

and with that chance, he takes it

WC ; 1, 099

time had flown by, the coldest season had ended and now it is the time where the plants bloom again. it also didn't took long for the third years to graduate at the month of march, this is where their last high school years end

suna generally doesn't have a problem with their seniors graduating but the idea that now no one is there to keep the miya twins in check when they have a sibling quarrel would be troublesome

"you guys have any plans before the new school year starts?"

ginjima asked, it was late at night as the four walked home together, the graduation ceremony felt long following by a small celebration for the third years treated by their team coach led them at this hour

"play volleyball, i guess?" atsumu stated, it was quiet night, no one else was around. "can't give yer ass a break, huh?" osamu said back, "like yer have any interestin' to do, you lousy cow!" came a laughter after "how about you suna?" suna only hummed away from his thoughts "-how would you spend your spring break?" ginjima interjected, suna tilts his head up for a moment before answering,

"i just want to stay at home, nothing much"

his wishes were ruined by the woman who gave birth to him, herself. "can't you come there on your own, i can handle the household by myself"

he persisted but his mother only shook her head at him, her frown line spoiling the face she had passed on to her son. "we're staying at your uncles place, so your cousin will be there too, wouldn't that be nice?" her statement didn't really helped to convince him to come

suna doesn't consider any of his cousins as a close relative, he definitely doesn't even talk to most of them. "you're coming whether you like it or not" his mother uttered and that was final, there was nothing more that he could do, not that he has any chance to win against his mom anyways. then again, i guess it's better than to lie around the house on his own.

the ride from hyogo to kyoto was only an hour and a half away, it wasn't a great idea to leave by sundown especially in a day where trains and buses are mostly full, it took an hour for a unfilled bus to arrive at the stop, using the train would have been a bit of a hassle considering how many and heavy the bags he was carrying as if his mother brought a whole worth of clothes for one year, suna could only roll his eyes at that.

a chuckle leaves his lips, the bus finally pulls to a stop at last. they got out to be greeted by a man, years older than him

"good to see you again, shiba!" His mother waved before nudging him in the shoulder, he bowed down for courtesy at the older man without saying a word. "not even gonna talk eh? wow! you sure have grown last time i saw you, you were still in your mothers belly" shiba said avidly patting him on the shoulder asking suna if he remembers him after.

'as if i have any memories of you when i was a fetus'

he thought to himself, "anyways, we better get goin' it's gettin' dark and senzo's probably waitin' for us" shiba commented pointing at the car that he was leaning onto, telling them to get it and drove off. the ride was longer then expected

they were staying in good ol' shiba's resident which includes a pretty traditional japanese house, which size is enough for a small family.

"senzo! why don't you help our guests get their bags in their rooms!" shiba yelled as they went inside, the sound of feet going down the stairs could be heard throughout the house.

the short dark haired teenager like suna, gave him a hand and gestured to follow him upstairs whilst his mother chatted away with his uncle

he frowned at his mother behind her back as he took steps from the creaking stairs for the reason that she only made her come to carry her bags which was ten times more hefty than his

long story short, he immediately took a nap and set himself in the night and called it a day.

suna somehow, woke up way too early seeing as the sun hasn't risen yet. he sat down to look at the time.

3:58 am

it read, beside him was senzo on his phone, scrolling up and down, their parents decided to have them in the same room to get along and communicate the night before.

"you woke up early too?"

suna mumbled, senzo looked at him with wide eyes then looked away quickly. "i.. i havent slept yet"

suna didn't said anything after that and decided to take a walk, despite not knowing his way around the place, he'll just let his feet lead him somewhere.

there was nothing much to see at this hour, majority of the shops were closed or prepping for later.

he walked quite far for the past hour, not only that he stopped in a wide place to watch the sunrise. he didn't knew how far he had walked until he noticed he could see various houses and shops below him and that he walked up to a high elevation.

he squinch his eyes as the morning sunrays finally hit him. what didn't hit him sooner was that he wasn't alone there up until he heard inaudible noises just inches away from him.

and there for the first time, he sees her

her hair was a mess, her clothes were all wrinkled out she was out of breath.

'was she trying to catch up to see the sunrise?'

she took notice of him shortly as he was staring at her all aloof

now that we got their first encounter out of the way, this is their story folks.

sunareii is typing...

this was supposed to be posted days ago, but I couldn't because procrastination and lack of motivation told me so

taglist (open!)

@akaaaashit

[spartanguard]

to trust someone else

Summary: Emma's wondering if maybe she judged Hook too quickly when the man himself stumbles out of the forest—bleeding profusely. “I...I didn't know where else to go,” he murmurs. She has to decide if she'll trust in him, or continue to write him off as nothing but a villain. (Canon-divergent from 2x08)

rated T | 3.6k | AO3

A/N: Here’s my contribution to @csseptembersunshine!!  Thanks to the organizers of this event for putting it on!! This story was inspired by this tumblr post, but watered down a bit to hopefully avoid triggers. It’s still fairly whumpy though. Title comes from “Trust” by Christina Perri.

Despite the heat of the fire, Emma shivered; she still wasn’t used to the noise—or better yet, lack thereof—of the forest. The Enchanted Forest. She shook her head; seriously, who had named this place? Even once she’d finally believed in it, she had to admit that it was contrite.

Anyways. It was too quiet—no cars, no people. While that might be a blessing—that she’d be able to hear any intruders immediately—it also meant that there was little else to fill the time but her own thoughts, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to be left with them at the moment.

What Aurora said was haunting her: “I think he may have feelings for you.” There was still something odd about the princess’s sudden reappearance, and odder still that it was Hook, of all people, who let her go.

Maybe she was right; maybe Emma should have trusted him. But aside from Henry and maybe her da—David, there weren’t a whole lot of guys she was ready to do that with.

Over the crackle of the fire and the gentle snoring of her companions, her last interaction with Hook played in her head.

“Have I told you a lie?” His voice had been shaking—with rage or shock, she couldn't tell. 

“I can’t take a chance that I’m wrong about you,” she told him, trying to rationalize what was easily a dick move on her part. But he was a pirate, wasn’t he? Surely, he’d committed his fair share of those.

Or maybe there really had been something there? He wasn’t entirely wrong when he’d suggested they made a good team, and it was unnerving how easily he seemed to read and understand her—more than anyone had since Neal. She still didn’t know why she was so scared when that pile of rocks fell on him, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to analyze why.

But maybe that had something to do with the pang of remorse she felt when she turned her back on him and the utter betrayal in the way he was shouting her name.

Was it too late to go back? Find him wherever he was hiding and team up?

Or was it just another ruse by him and Cora?

Odds were good on both.

Thankfully, she couldn’t dwell on it any longer because there was finally some noise—even if the sound of someone stumbling through the forest wasn’t the most welcome of interruptions. If it was another one of those zombie things, she was never going to watch The Walking Dead again.

As silently as she could manage—grace was never her strong suit, but she managed it well enough—she stood, grabbed Mulan's sword, and held it aloft, ready to decapitate whatever was coming towards them.

The body lumbered into their tiny clearing, unsteady on its feet. Emma tightened her grip.

But then it collapsed at her feet, a lanky pile of dark leather and mussed hair who coughed a bit and then rolled onto its back.

“Hook?” she whisper-yelled.

“Hey, beautiful,” he wheezed with an attempt at a flirty smile, then grimaced and curled into the hand that was pressed to his chest.

She really hoped her eyes were playing tricks on her. Because in the glow of the firelight, it looked like his hand was covered in blood.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

He took a deep breath, but then winced again. “I...I didn't know where else to go,” he murmured, then let his hand fall away from his chest.

Emma gasped at the sight: his shirt was pulled away, revealing even more of his chest than normal, but his skin was indeed covered with his own blood, seeping from a handful of puncture wounds around his heart. He’d clearly lost a lot of blood and was struggling to breathe and keep eye contact. 

She dropped to the ground next to him. “What—what happened?”

“Cora,” he spat. “Who else?”

“Was she trying to take your heart?” Admittedly, Emma didn't quite know how that whole thing worked.

He snorted—at least, she thought he did; it could have been another cough. “No; she's not that merciful. Thought it'd be more fun to watch me bleed out, apparently.” 

“Jesus,” Emma cursed, trying to inspect the damage in the dim light, but also not wanting to touch him and make anything worse. “Why?”

“Help me tend this and I’ll tell you.”

Oh, right—he was bleeding. Fuck, this was not covered in her high school first aid class. “I don't know—what—”

“Get pressure on it, please; I can’t—I’m too—”

“Got it.” She still had his scarf wrapped around her hand, but that cut was mostly healed. So she quickly unwrapped it, folded it, and placed it over the wounds. Gently, but firmly, she pressed down.

He bit back a cry, and she thought she saw a tear at the corner of his eye, but then he exhaled. “Thank you, love. That helps.”

“Okay. Now tell me what happened.”

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

Cora strode into the cave with confidence, not casting a glance in his direction—but her expression quickly faded to confusion when she realized her prisoner was gone.

“Looking for someone?” Hook asked, turning up the charm as he stepped from the shadows.

Cora was momentarily taken aback, but then scoffed. “Don't tell me you were dumb enough to let her go.”

He sauntered forward. “She was never going to give you what you wanted, anyway.” But now, he could—and work his way back into Cora’s good graces at the same time.

“So you freed her. And stuck around for the petty satisfaction of seeing me suffer.”

In any other situation, that would have been the case; there were plenty of people he’d likely do that with—particularly the Crocodile. But he’d have to play nice with Cora if he ever wanted to reach that goal. “Watching you is a tempting motivation, but it wasn't that.”

“Well then, you must have a death wish.” Suddenly, he was flying backwards, slamming into the stone wall of the cave; that was definitely going to leave him a headache. When he’d shaken the stars from his vision, he realized she’d manipulated the rock into cuffs around his wrists, both restraining him and holding him upright. He struggled against them, but there were no fissures or weak spots; it wouldn't give. Then she was in front of him, unlocking his hook from his brace, and pressing the tip of it against his chest. “You know I have to kill you,” she purred.

Oh, if only she knew. “You should try thanking me.”

That took her by surprise. “Oh, really? Why is that?” But she still had steel pressed against his skin and was dragging it over where his heart was rapidly beating.

He didn’t make it this far by cowering to intimidation, though. “Because I brought you a gift. It's in the satchel,” he explained as casually as he could, nodding down at the bag slung across his body.

“What is it?” she demanded. He had her interest.

“Customarily, surprise is part of the fun of gift giving. Open it.”

She tugged it off, ripping the weak leather strap, and opened the pouch. Her expression morphed from confusion to disbelief. “Is that...?”

He nodded. “Indeed, it is. And with it you'll get everything you want.”

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

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Emma nearly yelled. “You took her fucking heart?”

“Aye,” he replied, but in a tone that implied he was at least slightly remorseful for it. “So if you could keep it down and not wake the sleeping beauty, lest Cora know I’m here, I’d appreciate it.”

“Why should I help you after you did that?”

“Because I want to help you get it back and get home. You’re the only person I trust in this bloody realm.”

“Have you ever thought that maybe you have a tendency to burn bridges and that’s why you have so many enemies?”

“Oh, and you haven't done anything similar lately, have you?”

Emma was silent at that; she couldn't exactly refute it, especially to him. “Yeah, but the more you talk, the more I’m confident in my decision.”

“Then let me finish.”

“Fine.”

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

“It was Hook. He let me go.” There was an odd novelty to watching Cora pretend to mimic the princess’s voice as she dictated through her heart. It wasn’t the most convincing thing, if he was being honest, but he’d certainly seen worse.

He wasn’t close enough to the heart to hear what was happening on the other end of the conversation, chained as he still was to the wall, but given that Cora was calm, he had to assume they were buying it.

“Because of you,” Cora said. “He said he wanted to prove to you that you should have trusted him. That if you had trusted him…” Cora smirked and threw a glance his way. “...you could have defeated Cora together. That the two of you could have gotten the remains of the wardrobe. Without him, you'll have to go up against her all by yourself. He only wants to help. I...I think he might care for you.”

That wasn’t entirely untrue, honestly. Emma had impressed him right away with her tenacity and intolerance to his bullshit; very few had seen through him so easily and it was oddly refreshing to not have to put up a front with someone. Her subsequent betrayal stung more that he was willing to let on—just another reminder of why he closed himself off.

But he couldn’t let Cora know she was right. So he settled with a casual, “Nice touch, that.”

She dropped her arm that held the heart and turned back to him. “You know, she won't trust you.”

He was already well aware of that. “She doesn't have to. All I need is her to believe that I was genuine letting the girl go. Which, in a way, she does now. You're welcome.”

She pocketed the heart and came closer, then pulled his hook back from the other side of her skirts, where she’d stashed it earlier. He couldn't tell, though, if she meant to give it back or not.

Fine, then, He could start things. “Now, can we go on with the business going to Storybrooke? Together?” He attempted to lean forward, but the restraints held fast.

“Alas, I’m afraid I still can’t do that, Hook.”

His heart fell into his stomach. “Why the bloody hell not?”

“You think this proved anything?” she countered. “All it did was show me you’re a good lap dog to whoever will give you the most. Tell me truthfully: were you actually going to team up with her and leave me behind?”

“No,” he answered, but even he didn't believe his lie. He had been honest when he told them they were better—and safer—company; the present situation was proof enough.

She got closer and started swinging his hook on her finger, and he was noting the gleam of malice in her dark eyes. 

“There's no room for error, here, Hook, and I'm afraid you’ve committed one too many now. And if there's one thing I can't stand, it's a bootlicker.”

Rage ran through his veins. “That's what you think I am? A kiss-arse?”

“Something along those lines. It’s pathetic, really.”

“I’ll show you pathetic,” he snarled, trying again to spring free but the binds held firm. Those words may have described him once, but that was a lifetime ago. 

Cora just laughed at him. “Tell you what: how about I just put you out of your misery now and save you the embarrassment?”

“What?” 

Before he could think further, sharp pain erupted in his chest. She’d stabbed him—with his own hook. Briefly, she twisted it in his flesh, drawing an involuntary yell, before yanking it out; immediately, he felt blood seeping from the fresh wound.

Then she did it again. And again. And again, twice more, in a circle above his heart, cutting deeper each time into the muscle of his chest and extracting deeper screams and more blood with every one. He tried to slump to the floor, to relieve any of the pain, but the stone cuffs wouldn’t let him.

“Please,” he panted. “If you want to kill me, just crush my heart.” He’d asked for that once and been denied; maybe this time would be different.

“But where's the fun in that? You’ll bleed out so much slower this way.”

“Witch,” he cursed.

“Yes, that’s accurate,” she agreed. “But they don't call me the Queen of Hearts for nothing. Each of these stab points is just outside the heart—not enough to kill you outright, but able to draw the most pain.”

She stabbed him once more, right above the heart—not as deep, but she dragged this one a bit. “And they do bleed an awful lot.”

With a wave of her hand, the restraints finally disappeared, and he fell to the floor in a graceless heap. She tossed his hook on the ground, where it landed a few feet away.

“Well, it's been nice knowing you. Sorry about the revenge thing, but surely you understand where I'm coming from.”

The sad thing was: he did. He wouldn't let her have the last word. “I hope you fail,” he panted out, even though every word sent a searing pain through his chest. “I hope they manage to get the better of you and you never see your daughter again.”

“Unlikely,” she answered. “See you in the Underworld someday.” Then she disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

He gave himself one long moment to dwell on the pain, which got worse with each heartbeat. He placed his hand on his chest and his fingers came back dripping red.

He had two options here: let death come, which would be easiest, but certainly the least fulfilling. Or.

Or.

He could seek out the band of princesses and pray they'd take pity on him. Emma would believe him—she’d know right away if he was lying, and despite what she might believe, he’d been truthful with her thus far. But that was the only way he could think of to survive this, and his only chance now of getting his revenge.

It took far more effort than he cared to expend, but after a few staggering tries, he was upright, leaning on a wall and panting with his hand clinging to his chest, pressing on it as much as he could to staunch the flow. “Here goes nothing,” he said to himself as he took a step forward, then another, and kept going until he was out in the dusky forest. 

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

“And here I am now,” he breathed, but his breaths were getting more and more labored.

“Why should I believe any of that?” Emma asked, pressing just a bit harder on his wounds. What kind of fool did he take her for? How did she know he didn't stab himself?

“Am I lying?” he asked, his voice getting weaker.

She wanted to confirm that he was, but nowhere in that tall tale had her bullshit detector gone off. Dammit. “No,” she conceded.

“I promise, I want to help.”

She swallowed. “So you were telling the truth when you said that to Aurora?”

His brow furrowed. “I wasn't then, but I am now.”

Still true.

“Please, Swan; help me here, and I promise I'll do everything I can to get you back to your boy.”

Even in the shadows, she could see the sincerity in his blue eyes. And really, it was her fault Cora did this in the first place; the least she could do was make sure he didn’t die. 

“Okay,” she said with a nod.

He gave her half a smile, but that was the most he seemed to be able to muster. And then he winced again, but he also gave a low groan.

“Alright, what do we need to do?”

“He needs stitches.” Emma nearly jumped; Mary Margaret was standing over her shoulder, looking down on both of them.

“Oh my god, how long have you been there?”

“Long enough,” she answered, then knelt next to them. “We need to clean and disinfect the wounds, then stitch them up. I should have a needle somewhere, but I'm low on thread, unless you're okay with powder blue, Hook.”

“Sounds lovely, milady,” he answered, oddly politely.

“Okay. I’ll get that; not sure how we can disinfect it, though.”

Emma winced at her own memory, but she knew what they had to do. “He’s got rum.”

“That'll have to work.”

Hook groaned, but she wasn't sure it was in general, or at what was about to come.

Mary Margaret ran to her bag quietly to get supplies, and Emma turned her attention back to Hook. “Where's your flask?” 

His hand began searching, eventually pulling it out of a hidden pocket in his vest. “I suppose this will be payback, eh?”

“I guess.” She uncorked the flask—with her hand, even though the memory of him using his mouth was something she wouldn’t admit to finding attractive—and pulled back her other hand from his chest. His blood had soaked through the scarf and was definitely all over her palm, but she had to set it aside and pushed back his shirt the rest of the way, fully exposing that half of his (very nice) chest. “Okay; think you can keep the volume down?”

He gave a curt nod. “I’ll try.”

She took a deep breath and then, before she could think about it any longer, poured. His entire face clenched in pain, but he didn't let out any more than a high-pitched whimper as she sanitized the area. She didn’t miss the tears now running down his cheeks, but she wouldn’t say a thing about it. She definitely knew a thing or two about dealing with pain on your own.

She found a clean corner of the blood-soaked rag and managed to get the punctures as clear as possible just as her mother was threading the needle. “Yeah, those are deep,” Mary Margaret said. “This may take a bit. Don’t pass out on me, Hook.”

“I’ll try.”

He was pretty brave as the needle first went in. But it became obvious that he was putting on a brave face as they continued on. His hand was in a fist so tight that she could see the white of his knuckles even in the dark.

She’d been there—she totally had, especially when she’d given birth to Henry. She’d had a death grip on the edge of the hospital bed and would have given anything for a hand to hold. 

Even if that was a significantly more painful experience, and surely Hook had dealt with worse when he lost his hand, it still wasn't a pain she’d wish on anything. So she placed her hand on top of his fist, working her fingers into his grip until he loosened it enough for them to slip in.

Once he realized what she was doing, his gaze darted up to hers—definitely in surprise. She gave him a small smile back and squeezed his hand.

His face relaxed and he gave a light squeeze back.

It didn't take very long for Mary Margaret to get him stitched up; Emma expected it to take all night, but clearly, her mother had first aid experience beyond whatever was required of an elementary school teacher. But that—and all of her mother's survival skills—were a conversation for another day.

“That should do it,” she said softly, gently patting the last suture. “Thanks for being a good patient.”

“Are you a healer or something in this other realm?” he asked, clearly feeling a bit better now that he wasn’t losing blood.

“Nope. I learned all that here. Now get some rest. You too, Emma.”

Emma was going to protest, but a yawn betrayed her. “You've got next watch?”

“I'm on it. And I'll try to head the other two off in the morning.”

Oh, thank God; Emma did not want to be the one to explain this recent change in allegiances—or the present location of Aurora’s heart; hopefully her mother also knew diplomatic ways to hold off an assasination attempt by Mulan.

“Sleep tight,” Mary Margaret said as she stood, then bent down to place a kiss on Emma’s head. The warmth she felt from it was foreign, but also something shed craved her entire life.

But, as Mary Margaret walked away, Emma suddenly felt awkward now that it was just her and Hook. And she needed sleep. 

“Okay, I’ll just hop over there—”

“Stay?” Hook interrupted, quietly and so innocently, a softness in his blue eyes she hadn't seen before.

Well, fuck. How could she say no to that?

“O-okay,” she said, nodding like a bobblehead, and shifted down to lay next to him. He still hadn’t let go of her hand. “Don't die tonight, alright?”

“I shouldn’t,” he said, sincerely.

“Good.”

She settled on her back, staring up at the unfamiliar stars through the trees.

“What, no good night kiss?” he teased; she could feel his eyes on her.

“Go to sleep,” she tossed back, but turned her head away from him so he couldn't see her smirk. It was probably a good sign that he was already back to his annoying flirtatious ways.

It didn't take long for his gentle snores to sound out. And as she too drifted off, all she could think was that, maybe someday, he’d get that kiss.

But first, they had to get home. 

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

thanks for reading! tagging some friends: @kat2609 @thesschesthair @optomisticgirl @xpumpkindumplingx @shipsxahoy @amortentia-on-the-rocks @mryddinwilt @cocohook38 @annytecture @wingedlioness @word-bug @distant-rose @wellhellotragic @welllpthisishappening @let-it-raines @pirateherokillian @bleebug @its-imperator-furiosa @fergus80 @killianmesmalls @sherlockianwhovian @effulgentcolors @laschatzi @ive-always-been-a-pirate @nfbagelperson @stubble-sandwich​ @killian-whump​ @lenfaz @phiralovesloki @athenascarlet @kmomof4 @ilovemesomekillianjones @whimsicallyenchantedrose @snowbellewells @idristardis

[amwritingmeta]

14x14: Dean and Cas and Questioning the Status Quo

Note: I found this in drafts and I believe I chopped it into smaller pieces, but I thought I’d post the whole long thing because it actually ties back to the lack of communication currently happening in S15 and the need to shake up the status quo. By, you know, someone actually speaking words. And the other, you know, actually listening. :) 

Let’s take a closer look at this, because it warrants a closer look, or so I’d like to argue: these two idiots are (and Sam too but Dean and Cas more prominently so in this ep) locked in a status quo that is informed by Dean’s inability to stop believing that what he wants is something he can’t have.

Know what I mean?

Now, I think the dance around this fact in 14x14 is quite elegant, way I see it, and though what exactly the gorgon represents is up for interpretation, the simple facts are:

Noah the gorgon in and of himself is a snake symbol, and per the ouroboros of the title, the snake symbolism in 14x14 might be leaning towards renewal, rebirth and a conjoining of opposites rather than, you know, the snake that brought knowledge to mankind and helped us rebel........ Yeah, kinda good either way you look at it, no?

Noah also Biblically brought the flood, which is a mighty symbol of rebirth, so he’s this double-edged sword where both edges spell renewal

Noah looks at you, assesses you and sees the truth of you, established with the truck driver, his note to Dean and with Jack - a bit of a narrative tie to Michael in 14x01, who blasted onto the scene reading the truth of people’s motivations left and right, and subtle foreshadowing of how Michael will shed Dean and go looking for a new skin *shudder’

Noah enjoys both men and women (yes indeed bisexual symbol and nope I am not the first to point this out of course)

That’s the basic makeup of Noah’s demi-god character, yeah?

Now a bit of a look at the interaction we have in the episode between Dean and Cas. (I have a very strong urge to refer to them as nothing but the two idiots for the rest of this post but) (I shall not)

1. Invisible Cas (and Jack)

It’s rather striking. The first image we get of Sam and Dean breaking through that door together, and alone, only for a mirror moment to come barely a minute later of them doing the exact same thing, only now Cas (and yes, Jack) is stepping through the door with them. *goosebumps all over*

What does it mean? Could mean a host of things. To me? 

Well, Noah can’t see angels. Right? Fair enough, he can’t see either Cas or Jack so it’s not like Cas is special here, not really, but what does Noah represent? I talked briefly in an ask about whether he’s representative of toxic masculinity and how I don’t think he is. 

He’s submitting to his fate, isn’t he? He’d rather not, but for survival’s sake, he doesn’t really have a choice. He’s performing ritualistic killings because that’s what’s expected of him. He’s not taking any real pleasure from it. Not very toxic, especially when compared to Michael the Dick Archangel, who breaks his promise to Rowena and slaughters the innocent’s of the bunker without mercy.

I would say Noah is more likely to be representative of suppression/repression, predominantly suppression in Dean, because oh, man, is Dean tying himself in very knowing knots this episode, and predominantly repression in Cas and Jack, which is why it makes enormous sense to me that he cannot see them.

You see, where Dean is completely aware of his emotions and is actively and consciously suppressing them - which is so fucking unhealthy - Cas and Jack are both shown, throughout the episode, to be unaware of how deeply their unconscious repression runs. I’ll talk about Jack in a separate post, but oh god. It’s lovely.

Sidenote

Suppression is a psychological term for when we consciously push down unwanted thoughts or urges. Used healthily this is where self-control lies, but when an unwanted emotion or urge is ignored out of fear, this suppression tactic can turn into a pattern of behaviour that may lead to unhealthy coping mechanisms (like drinking, casual sex, violent outbursts, addiction to danger etc) *side eye Dean Winchester* and irrational behaviour and lack of self-control due to lack of self-awareness.

Repression is a psychological term for when we push down unwanted thoughts, urges or very often memories into our unconscious, where our conscious mind is protected from having to deal with these particulars, because our conscious mind is kept wholly unaware that these particulars are a part of us. However, these repressed thoughts, urges or memories will push to be recognised, because anything we try to simply forget, that is deeply affecting, will never stay forgotten, and being unable to confront these buried thoughts, urges or memories may result in unhealthy outlets, such as the coping mechanisms and irrational behaviour mentioned above.

(long af)

2. Almost Liturgical

This scene is so incredibly wonderful for setting up Dean and Cas’ attitudes for the rest of the episode. Cas is observant and supportive and quietly brazen in making Dean be honest with him, and Dean can’t resist opening up, not when Cas asks him to. Prompts him to, even.

There’s so much softness from Dean here, and I’d say Cas sees it, and still doesn’t see it at all. Dean’s been looking at him with heart eyes for so long without it meaning that anything between them is developing or, I don’t know, renewing, that Cas just takes that softness and those heart eyes at face value.

There are subtle shifts throughout this scene between them, but the biggest one, to my mind, comes once Jack is back at the table and tells them he’s fine, because Dean then tries to swipe his opening up to Cas, as well as the severity of his reminding Cas of Plan B, aside by being flippant and adding this smile:

Which basically gets him a stern look from Cas -->

--> because no, Dean, Cas isn’t fine with everyone being fine. You can’t just make him be fine with Plan B, because Plan B is anything but fine.

And Dean looks contrite enough -->

--> and, I would say, realising exactly how open he just left himself to Cas’ scrutiny. Feeling exposed and vulnerable and a little raw and this isn’t helped by Cas putting himself in a position of having the upper hand by using a word that’s not in Dean’s vocabulary, because whenever Cas gets the upper hand it serves to remind Dean of? 

Yes, that Cas isn’t his to make heart eyes at.

Because? 

He believes, to his core, that what he wants, he can’t have.

I’d like to shake him. And shake him hard. Because even when Cas, over and over, through his actions and reactions, tell Dean exactly what he’s feeling, Dean still doesn’t see.

And so he goes from the soft expression and full on openness with Cas...

...to that ^^^ detached and Got Work To Do expression.

*shake shake bloody shake*

Now, of course, the fact that he’s being open and making heart eyes and feeling all sorts of things that are scary as all fuck to him and always have been - the scariest thing of all is love, right? - makes him go to great and unnecessary lengths to cover those feelings up to anyone who might be watching him.

And to suppress them to himself.

Stop wanting, essentially. Letting that hope flare that Cas could love him back only leads to pain and pain and pain, because in his low self-worth idled brain, his thoughts are stuck running along the same lines that they’ve always been running along, saying the same thing they’ve always said: why would an angel rescue him from hell? 

Which translates to: why would he ever deserve Cas’ love? 

In his head, he doesn’t deserve good things. 

And he’s perpetuating this conviction out of fear, rooted in losing his family at four years old, a loss that has cemented the belief of how Good Things Don’t Last, and this cementation has occurred in Dean out of sheer ego self-preservation, and Michael now is the ultimate proof of that. Michael in his head. Because Dean said yes. So -->

3. Overcompensation

This is Dean’s default reaction to Cas being in an obviously superior position, no matter how small that superiority might be. In 14x14 it’s something as simple as Cas having a deeper vocabulary and Dean being in the sudden situation where this is revealed to Jack, who couldn’t give less of a fuck, but since Dean just spent five minutes laying his soul bare to Cas, this moment is like a slap back to reality for Dean.

And what does he do?

He does what he always does. He tries to put himself in the superior position, because, truthfully, he knows he never really can be superior to Cas, because, um, angel. Yeah. Can’t really bypass that fact.

This ^^^ is all about Dean desperately trying to cover, trying to act like Cas knowing things beyond what Dean knows makes him, somehow, inferior. 

Look, Dean’s habit of pulling Cas down to Earth is never malicious in intent, but all to do with Dean’s insecurities and, in many scenarios, also directly linked to his falling in love and not believing, ever, for a second, that Cas the angel - as an angel - could or would or should love him back. 

The angle in 14x14, where he makes light of Cas’ superior vocabulary by putting him in with the brainy kids in AV Club - and look at how it sets up for Dean with his next breath trying to impress with his knowledge of Medusa, that turns out to be based in a movie that’s exaggerated the myth for entertainment purposes, which leaves very little of his knowledge to feel as impressive as Cas’ observations regarding the gorgon - the AV Club reference aids in Dean’s suppression of his emotions.

All the while this utter verbal denial of what it is that he truly loves about Cas serves to underline to us how he really feels deep down, and knows he feels deep down, which is why he’s scrambling to cover it up, terrified the truth is written all over his face, the way it is whenever he looks softly, softly at Cas and dares to open himself up to everything Cas means to him.

So instead, in dialogue, he goes:

-- Oh, look at the baby in the trench coat. Not so powerful now. -- Oh, look at the weird, dorky little guy. He’s not a commander. -- Oh, look at the nerdy dude who knows words. He is so not my type.

Yeah, okay, sure, Jan.

Meanwhile, Cas is like The fuck? -->

*darling Cas*

Now, when it comes to not seeing, we are presented with a baddie who eats the eyes of his victim to glimpse the future. Obviously he doesn’t snack on anyone’s eyes out of TFW 2.0, but he does carry a bit of the whole other side to him, where he can read people’s fate, with him in how he interacts with them, doesn’t he? It’s like he reads Jack’s palm, once he has him in front of him. And Dean and Cas?

Well, not the first one to point out that they’re both flat on their backs on the floor by the end of their encounter with the flood. 

I mean, their encounter with Noah. 

Who is actually the saviour away from the flood. Almost like their interaction with him constitutes the way out of drowning, for both of them. Funny that. But I’m skipping ahead.

First -->

4. Regards, Noah

Dean,

I see you standing alone by the truck stop reading this. I see you and the tall man and the red headed witch chasing me. I will always see you. Stop, or I will make you stop.

Regards, Noah

I’ll get back to this.

5. He’s a Lover, Not a Fighter

So, we arrive at the confrontation, which opens with the statement Noah makes of how he’s a lover, not a fighter. Interesting, isn’t it? Because this is truly the core trait of the entire TFW 2.0 --> innately they are not killers, they are protectors; they are not weapons, they are shields.

In the confrontation scene we also get a previously invisible and now not at all invisible Cas focusing on giving the antidote to the victim, while Jack keeps Noah distracted by listening to the fable. 

Cas is mildly on guard about the whole thing and finally comes right out and questions Noah’s motives for telling the story to Jack. When Noah gives voice to what could be read as Cas’ own worries concerning Jack burning off his soul, Cas attacks, because he doesn’t want to even think about the implications of what Noah is seeing, or unable to properly make out, in Jack -->

--> in this context, Noah as a manifestation of Cas’ suppressed fears about Jack’s choices.

Cas being in denial of how serious Jack’s situation is, is given to us in the El Saboros, because we see Jack alone healing himself, burning off his soul, and returning to the table with a ready lie of how he’s fine. Cas might not be convinced, but he’s also unaware of how Jack is still coughing up blood, and if he wasn’t suppressing his constant worry, arguably writing it off as him being overprotective, he’d most likely take actual action in order to stop Jack from walking down the dangerous path he’s stubbornly treading. 

(rather than the righteous path) (*clears throat*)

Back with the confrontation, where Noah very easily disarms Cas (demi-god that Noah is and all), slaps Cas twice, once across each cheek, and then kisses one of those cheeks, effectively paralysing Cas with gorgon poison. 

Cas goes rigid and falls to the floor, unable to move, but the antidote doesn’t work on Cas.

Why does the poison have the same effect on him as on a human, but the antidote doesn’t? Why does it take Jack sacrificing a piece of his humanity in order to tap into his angelic powers for Cas to be released from the poison?

Mh-hmh, let’s look at Dean before we try and answer, shall we?

Dean bursts in and Noah very easily disarms him (Noah can fight y’all) and knocks Dean’s head once, twice against the wall, rendering Dean unconscious.

Let’s glance back for a moment at how we got to here:

Throughout S13 Dean was confronted with toxic masculinity representatives leading right into him saying yes to having the most outstanding toxic masculinity representative literally possess him by the end of the season. S13 was all about making Dean aware of how toxic the ideal he’s modelled himself after for so long truly is, and he did begin to move away from it, this in order to be equipped to recognise Michael’s true colours, once he had to grant them absolute access.

S14 has been very much about confronting the past and all those suppressed/repressed fears and hangups being pushed to the surface. This while TFW 2.0 have all been asked - in not so many words - to find the answer to the question of What Do I Want? 

Dean’s reply to this question in 14x12 is so far from what the narrative is continuously angling for it to be, that only two episodes later that answer is not only nullified, but brings on a possible narrative punishment, because odds are that Jack, through self-sacrifice, is opening himself up to a world of hurt, and if Dean’s answer to the question of What Do I Want? had been different, if he’d reached that point in his individuation process where he could be honest with himself, then the outcome would have been different too.

But he hasn’t reached that point, and so the outcome is what we’re given in 14x14. So, what’s Dean’s answer to the question What Do I Want?

Plan B.

You see, Dean doesn’t believe that they’ll find another way to beat Michael, not really. Dean is humouring the people he loves, but he’s expecting them to be the ones to do all the emotional work and let him go, rather than him doing the necessary emotional work and confronting his fears, collected in the manifestation of his shadow-self: Michael.

Dean’s answer to the question What Do I Want? is to symbolically put himself into the box of societal norms that has dictated his relationship with his shadow-self for his entire life, and drown his ego, his consciousness, with the cycle of unhealthy suppression/repression that the darker side to his shadow-self is responsible for maintaining. (Dean’s suppressed longing for more, for a long and happy life; and his repressed childhood neglect)

Why? Because his fears run so deep that he doesn’t know how to confront them without annihilating his identity. To get to his true identity, though, he must confront these fears and understand the truth: that his fears are nothing but a construct, and that he can choose for them to no longer hold any merit.

6. Shake Shake Shake

Now, diving back into 14x14, where Dean and Cas are both flat on their back thanks to Noah.

So, let’s pull on the symbolical threads I set up at the start of this post. Threads that are very much tied to the Jungian doctrine of individuation, which I first wrote about here and have been reading up on since. (seriously it makes for deeply satisfying study) (Carl Jung was a great man)

Cas

When it comes to his worry for Jack, Cas deals in suppression, but when it comes to answering the question What Do I Want? Cas deals wholly in repression. He is not being honest with himself, and it’s given to us in his exchange later on with Jack, where he talks about humans as burning bright, unlike "things like us”. 

Yes, an unspecified thing is what he identifies himself with. 

He doesn’t identify himself as an angel, which, to my mind, is important, but for him to also step as far away as he can from humanity is equally pertinent because, well, this meta writer does believe that he needs to admit to himself what it is he truly wants for himself before he’ll be able to properly begin the final leg of his journey towards internal balance. 

Noah’s note underlines how he sees Dean, but Noah couldn’t see Cas, and to me this is all because Noah is much more narratively tied to Dean, while serving - as representative of suppression/repression - to narratively highlight these habits in all of TFW 2.0, but there’s another layer to it, where Noah is tied to Cas’ repressed true identity, meaning Cas is blind to his own repression.

(and Jack is blind to his own internal conflict, given to us in dialogue when he yells at Michael - childishly - that he’s not a child) (because Jack still is a kid)

Looking at the setup of Noah not being able to see Cas and Jack, it could be argued that he can’t see them, that he’s cut off from them, because they’re unaware of him, and so he’s unaware of them.

Awareness is key to confrontation. So, to me, it’s delicious that it’s Cas and Jack who grow aware of Noah and go to confront him, allowing him to see them, because it’s the ego’s awareness that allows for any internal imbalance to be confronted and worked through.

Moreover, Cas’ continued unawareness - his inability to recognise what it is he’s actually doing - of his own repression is what is keeping Cas complacent.

It’s keeping Cas accepting the status quo.

It’s keeping Cas paralysed in his own skin.

See what I’m getting at? Cas’ confrontation with Noah is brief, very, very brief, and Cas is disarmed very, very quickly and receives the kiss that paralyses him after being slapped, like a proverbial wakeup call, on either cheek, by the representative of his repression.

And, look it, when it comes to the question of why the antidote doesn’t work on him: if Cas had been human, it would’ve.

But Cas - being an angel - needs Jack to help him, needs Jack to burn off a piece of his soul in order to get the poison out, needs Jack to unlock his limbs and get him out of the paralysis. 

Jack, who in 14x08, was shown to be such an incredibly important tool for Cas’ individuation, since Jack is the one who symbolically (and literally) woke him, making Cas aware of his shadow-self.

And where Dean is unable to face his shadow-self due to his low self-worth making him fear what it will mean for his ego, aka his self-view and understanding of who he is if he were to confront his deepest fears, Cas’ low self-worth is equally exposed through his acceptance of the shadow-self’s threat to come and take him in his happiest moment. Cas doesn’t believe he deserves more, so for his happiest moment to be a point of punishment makes perfect sense to him, and this makes it incredibly difficult for him to break out of his complacency.

Better the status quo than the Empty.

Better a useful thing than daring to consider what would actually make him happy by truthfully answering the questions of Who am I? and Who do I want to be? and going for it.

*shake shake bloody shake*

The poisonous kiss from his repression, and Cas’ inability to get himself out of a state of paralysis without Jack’s help, doesn’t necessarily set up for what’s to come, but to me it does underline what is: as an angel Cas is stuck in a place where, as a human, he wouldn’t need help getting out of.

And this place that he’s stuck in takes a toll on the one person he’s tried, for seasons now, to protect - Jack - and this moment is entirely reflective of - and of course helps set up for - Jack’s choice to step into this exact same position for Dean, when he kills Michael. 

Dean

Oh, Dean.

Old patterns are a bitch. 

Actually, old patterns are turning into his greatest enemy, which gets me all kinds of squeakily excited for him. The lessons he’s been set out to learn for many, many moons now, are, at this point, hitting him so hard over the head they’re knocking him out against a wall.

Dean was fighting his toxic masculinity in S13. Growing aware of the ideal and moving away from it so that he can see Toxic Masculinity Michael for what he truly is, but because of patterns that have informed Dean’s sense of identity ever since he was a child, modelling himself on John and his mode of Feelings are Weaknesses that Will Get You and Your Brother Killed, Dean can’t bring himself to believe that there’s a way out of this confrontation with his shadow-self without killing the ego. Meaning without killing his conscious idea of himself. And because of the fear this brings of losing his sense of self completely, his incapable of believing there’s a way of beating Michael.

Even when Dean is sitting in front of the key to his own faith in the future, and yes, indeed the key to Dean’s faith in the future has always been Cas, and Cas is basically telling Dean that there’s no way Cas is ever giving up on him, and that they’ll find another way, Dean still can’t submit to his own need to believe, because his love of Cas is tethered to just as much fear as anything else, and confronting that fear, his fear of love and having hope for the future and believing that Cas does or could love him back, brings on just as much of an identity crisis as the thought of confronting his shadow-self.

And it’s all connected, of course. Because Dean’s internal fears don’t exist in a vacuum. But if he dared lean on his love for Cas and the faith and trust it’s always brought him, then he’d find the strength to confront his shadow-self and question all the lies it keeps filling his head with when it comes to perpetuating his low self-worth. Likewise, if he dared push past his identity crisis and begin to question the lies of his shadow-self that keeps his self-worth low, he would begin to feel the faith and trust Cas instils in him, and he’d start to believe in the love that Cas is continuously showing him.

But Dean can’t.

Dean is stuck in the belief that lingering in the status quo, and keeping to what he knows, is preferable, because there’s this huge thing in the way for Dean to be able to do anything else.

And holy fuck it’s formidable how this is now set up. (if I’m right in this reading)

The huge thing in the way for Dean to dare open himself up to his true identity is his inability to let go of old patterns, and 14x14 makes it explicit to me that this inability is rooted entirely in his neglected inner child. 

So what truly needs nurturing and attention and for Dean to grow aware of exactly how much he’s been neglecting it, is Dean’s inner child. An inner child that he’s been ignoring through his repression of his yearning for love. This yearning has been present in him since childhood and he’s repressed it by adopting the adage that feelings are weaknesses, and adopting this very harsh take on love in order to protect himself from a father incapable of providing the affection every child needs to feel truly safe and protected.

Moreover, Dean has been putting up walls to keep out the memory of the horror of his mother’s death and the guilt that’s haunted him and the mistrust it’s produced in him of anything good ever truly lasting for very long, and this, all this, is why he, in 14x14, teases Cas and tries to cover up how he’s really feeling and it gets him his head smashed into a wall by the representative of all of the above fears collected into his lifelong habit of suppression and repression of his true identity.

Noah sees Dean.

Noah will always see Dean.

And the narrative punishes Dean’s inability to break old patterns by having those old patterns knock him out cold, because clearly something needs to happen to shake up the status quo. 

Because the representative of Dean’s neglected inner child is...?

Jack.

And so Dean’s inability to do the shadow work needed, or to fully trust in those he loves, brings about the necessity for the representative of his inner child to step up to the plate and take matters into hand by expelling the manifestation of Dean’s shadow-self, while taking part of it into itself.

Yeah, I know right?

To my mind, Jack swallowing Michael’s grace is set to lead to not very good things.

Well, ultimately it will, I believe, but, oh, there may be quite a bit of glorious turbulence ahead. Or, at least, a huge push for Dean to face his internal imbalance and find a way to start all the emotional work needed if he’s to take full responsibility and stop running.

7. Off With Their Heads

This image is so powerful, because it serves so many possible purposes and can be interpreted in so many different ways, but here’s what I see:

A foreshadowing of the snake in Dean’s head (Michael) shedding his skin

An underlining for what Michael shedding Dean truly stands for: the first step toward internal rebirth/renewal for Dean

A plant for Jack picking up Felix and claiming him for a pet, which is deeply symbolic when looking at what Jack represents in the narrative, and what Jack himself needs for his own progression

But first, we get Sam also thrown across the room, very, very easily, by Noah the suppression/repression representative, because of course, Sam’s got his own shit to work through. Like his inability to take a moment for himself. His codependent behaviour runs so deep that he has no idea who he is unless he has people to look out for. And, good Lord, all the people under his protection getting killed by Michael after Sam insisted they bring Dean back. The internal conflict must be tearing Sam apart. *hands clutched to mouth* It’s not your fault, Sam!!

Once Sam hits the floor without getting knocked out (feels possibly significant here because Sam leading the way in letting go of the dependency and pushing himself into adulthood feels so important for Dean to finally allow himself to do the same) (but we shall see about that) we get Jack cutting off Noah’s head.

And looking at the fact of how Jack is the one to place his hands on either side of Rowena’s head, driving Michael out of her, you might say he cuts the head off both snakes in this narrative, right?

But, as I wrote here, he also swallows one of those snakes down, taking its essence into himself, while keeping a little piece of Noah in a glass box in his room, and so it can be said that he, symbolically, is tied to both symbols (suppression/repression/shadow-self) and is the last snake standing.

So. Turbulence.

Because Jack is no snake.

Jack has felt like a powerful symbol of internal balance for all of TFW and so for this symbol to now be in such absolute imbalance is quite possibly heralding Jack’s own dark arc, which could prove a necessary push out of the status quo that Dean and Cas and Sam are all in. 

Something to shake shake bloody shake them awake already.

Please. And thank you. :)

8. Access Denied

Cas has tried, on more than one occasion on the ride back to the bunker, to heal Dean, but he can’t. He can’t even see what’s going on inside Dean’s head.

*slow eyebrow raise*

Dean’s repression knocks him out -->

leading to Dean’s shadow-self no longer staying suppressed

leading to Dean’s inner child confronting the shadow-self with a declaration of how its not a child

Dean’s inner child swallowing the essence of Dean’s shadow-self down and declaring that it’s now itself again, restored to its former glory through taking into itself the toxic masculinity representative that’s the source of Dean’s repressed longing for love and his neglecting of his inner child in the first place

Oof.

Cas suddenly has no access to Dean because Dean’s repression runs too deep, and faith can’t reach where it’s not welcome, where it’s constantly shut down and mistrusted, and neither can love.

Especially not a faith or a love that doesn’t actually believe it belongs there.

The fucking status quo acting like the barrier it’s always been between these men, the barrier sitting like an enormous obstacle in front of open communication and honesty with each other, but foremost with themselves.

*so frustratingly amazing*

[saltpepperbeard]

Not Her ~An Everlark One-Shot~

A/N: Hello everyone! *hUNGER GAMES INTENSIFIES* am I right? I’m so happy for the Re-Read that’s taking place, because not only is it getting me furiously posting about THG again, but it brought back my quite dead writing motivation! I was reading chapter two, had a, “Okay but what must have this person been experiencing” kind of thought, followed by the instant urge to write it. So here we thankfully are lol!

I’m probably a tad rusty, but I really did want to write a different take on the Reaping Day. I’ve always wondered what things would be like from a certain someone’s point of view after all! So with that being said, I hope you all like it!

And with further adoooooooo...

Not Her

It’s the day everyone in this District dreads again.

The one where families are torn apart for a sick spectator sport. The one where children are torn crying from their mothers, knowing what horrible fate awaits them. The one where loved ones are officially lost to the Capitol.

Reaping Day.

I clench and unclench my jaw, silently filing in after all the other boys my age. The tension in the air is high, as usual. We’re not a District to valiantly offer volunteers, or boast our Tributes’ strengths. We’re a group of reluctant individuals, with many being fearful, silently praying that their name, or their loved one’s name, isn’t the one to be called.

I’m in the latter half of that group. My name being plucked from the large, glass bowl wouldn’t trigger any tears, from me or my family for that matter. There’s a slight sinking in my stomach as I imagine it, yes, but ultimately it wouldn’t hurt as much as others. My family would get on. The District would get on. And maybe it’d be a sick way to spare me from my current way of life.

I’m more concerned about my brother, concerned about Rye. I wouldn’t want to see him on that stage, awaiting pain, awaiting death. I wouldn’t want to see anyone I love subjected to that. Having to helplessly watch as someone close to me suffers has to be one of my worst fears.

A heavy breath rolls out of my mouth, my attention zoning out as the typical string of events unfolds. The mayor talks about the past of Panem, the history of the Games, and the reasons we should be thankful for them. It makes me sick to my stomach, the notion of being appreciative of murder, appreciative of suffering, appreciative of torture. So naturally, my attention goes elsewhere.

It doesn’t really come back until our District’s sole-surviving Victor, or our District’s Infamous Drunk rather, makes his grand entrance on stage. I let out a sigh as he leaves a path of chaos in his wake, but I cannot deny the slight ache in my chest. That insanity could be someone’s fate today. Or worse, far worse.

Another interesting character, Effie Trinket, attempts to hurry things along, continuing to try and make this some kind of grand spectacle. It’s ladies first as usual, and despite not really having anyone close to me per say, I find that I’m holding my breath.

When the name is uttered, I’m relieved for a split second, and then utterly devastated in the next.

“Primrose Everdeen.”

My throat locks up, with my entire body to follow. I almost feel a bit woozy, my head spinning at the image of a small, frail, blonde girl reluctantly emerging from the crowd.

I know her. Almost too well for never really formally meeting her. I can see her passing by our Bakery in the morning, completely carefree and casting light as she goes. I can see the way her gaze sparkles as she eyes the displays in the window, eagerly running up to get a better look. And I can see her turning around, excitedly pointing at the various cookies and cakes to the person who’s always with her...

“Prim!”

As unfortunate as it is to say, I should be familiar with that shrill, desperate cry. The sound of a person getting their family member torn away from them at the Reaping, a haunting, eerie noise that’s something of normalcy every year.

But it’s from her. She’s in pain. Her sister is going to the Arena. And I can’t protect them, can’t comfort her.

I can feel myself shaking, small beads of sweat forming atop my skin. I don’t even know her. I don’t know either of them. But at the same time, I feel like I do. I’ve seen them both for so long. My heart has followed the one for as long as I know, which means I’m naturally protective of the other as well.

It’s almost like I can feel her anguish, like my little sister is up there.

Mentally, I wrap my arms around her, holding her as tightly and warmly as I can manage. Even if I really could, I know there wouldn’t be enough love in the world to comfort her in this. But God, would I try. I’d want nothing more than to try and keep her lifted out of the darkness the Capitol tries so desperately to inflict upon us.

“Prim!”

Tears spring into my eyes, my heart clenching something terrible. I watch as she emerges from the crowd as well, darting after her sister. I wish I could be there alongside of her too, offering all the support and help I could possibly muster. But I can’t. I’m always doomed to watch from the sidelines, doomed to watch as things unfold.

And unfold they do.

“I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!”

Everything stops. My world completely stops. 

My heart stutters to a grinding halt. A noise of anguish poised on my tongue gets jammed in my throat. The tears I had been fighting against have no choice but to fall.

No. Not her.

It’s my nightmare. My absolute worst nightmare come to life. I always knew there was a very small possibility of this happening, a very grim chance of this unfurling before my very eyes. But nothing could have actually prepared me for it happening. No matter how many times I see them per night, the bad dreams are nothing compared to reality.

The light goes dark, and sounds go muffled. I can see some slight, desperate movement near the stage, and hear a scuffle of activity, but I can hardly pay attention. I can hardly focus on anything other than trying not to collapse right here and now, to collapse completely in on myself.

I don’t know her. I never got to know her. I didn’t get to tell her how beautiful I think she is, how her eyes remind me of a strong, captivating summer storm. I didn’t get to tell her how I want to protect her and her family for the rest of my days, to ensure they never have to go hungry ever again.

I never got to tell her how much I utterly adore her, how much I love her to the ends of the Earth.

And when she goes on stage, when she utters her name, the reminder makes a shaky, sobbing-like breath croak from my lungs.

Katniss Everdeen.

Not her. Not her. Not her.

Somewhere in the middle of my woes, I can faintly hear Effie Trinket trying to get our solemn District excited, trying to get our District to roar with thunderous applause.

But in true fashion, much to my utmost relief and yet utter dread, they don’t. Everyone remains ghostly silent, before kissing three fingers and raising them high into the sky. It’s a gesture of complete admiration, but also a way of saying goodbye.

I can’t bring myself to do it. Because no matter how much I utterly adore her, I cannot bring myself to say goodbye. Especially without giving the slightest “hello.”

I simply hang my head, fiercely wiping the tears away, clenching both my eyes and jaw. I wish I could reveal my gaze and be free from this, be in a completely different world where I’m waking up to light, waking up to her.

But I’m not. The awful world I’m in continues on.

I can hear the loud clicking of Effie’s heels as she walks from one side of the stage to the other. I wipe the last of my tears away, sighing harshly and attempting to get myself under some semblance of control. I just hope whoever gets reaped can work together with Katniss, and protect her with his life.

The odds must be somewhat in my favor, albeit in a messed up, twisted kind of way.

Because the name that’s called, the paper that’s raised into the air, sends me through a torrent of feeling.

My first emotion, by complete instinct, is shock, my head jolting upwards and my mouth hanging agape. I can feel everyone who’s in close proximity staring at me, their faces either wearing sorrow or some kind of weird relief. And after I’ve recovered from the initial blow, the initial realization that I’m going to the Hunger Games, the thoughts that follow are what give me the strength to walk towards the stage.

Katniss.

I’m going to be with Katniss in the arena.

Not getting to know her doesn’t seem as devastating anymore. Because now I’ll get to die knowing I protected her, knowing I gave absolutely everything to keep her alive. And that’s all I could possibly want. To make sure I gave my all in ensuring her safety.

Maybe she doesn’t need me. Maybe she can get by just fine on her own. I’ve heard about the way she shoots, heard her way of fighting is silent and elegant. It’d be just one other person who wouldn’t be affected by my presence or lack of thereof; my family certainly isn’t.

But that won’t stop me from trying. That won’t stop me from giving myself to her like I’ve tried to all these years. I am hers and no one else’s. My life is insignificant next to hers.

I finally mount the stage, and in seeing her so close, in getting to properly look at her, it locks my sole purpose in these Games completely into place.

I move to stand parallel to her. Before I do though, I give myself a brief opportunity to look at her. To really look at her. To look at her how I would every day if I was blessed enough to actually be with her.

Her beauty absolutely takes my breath away. It always has. Though her face is hard, completely taut with emotion, she’s gorgeous. Her hair looks softer than the dandelion puffs dotting the District. Her eyes look shinier than the sun dancing off the lake’s surface. Her lips look plumper than the strawberries growing in the forest.

I don’t think I could ever capture such beauty in one of my paintings, or ever truly put it into words. She’s utterly exquisite.

I don’t stare, being quick to tear my gaze away and look straight ahead, out into the crowd. Now really is not the time to dote on her anyway. I can’t afford to get anymore attached than I am now. Now is the time to start planning how I’m going to keep her alive.

As the mayor talks more about the Games, my mind is aflame with possibilities, with different scenarios. I think of how I can keep others away from her, how I can potentially side with her, how I can guard her from anyone who might come near...

My thoughts are cut short by Effie yet again, though this time she actually says something significant to me for once.

“Alright you two, shake hands!”

My head turns towards Katniss as hers turns towards mine, our eyes meeting and locking for the first time in...years. Her gaze is just as mesmerizing as it was the first time I held it, just as captivating. And just like last time, I silently tell her I’m going to protect her. I silently tell her that I will take a beating for her. I silently tell her that I love her.

And to prove it, to seal the deal, I put all the warmth I can manage into our handshake, squeezing her hand tenderly with the figurative promise of never letting go.

The odds may not be fully in my favor during the Games, but hopefully now the opposite can be said for her.

And once we turn to be beckoned into the building behind us, away from our District, my life is hers.

[wolffishgrin]

Long Time No See

Pairing: Choi Seunghyun x Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1427

A/N:

Didn’t proofread.

Posting this from my mobile so the spacings are really messed up.

Also, if you’re wondering why am I posting this so late. Well let’s just say i procrastinated, a lot because I wanted it to post the very next day of his military discharge.

And, I should just declare myself an angst writer. (Ofcourse, if that’s even a thing lmao)

I’ll add the read more tag when I open it on my laptop. It’s really late here so bye for now.

Special mention to @apotatomashedbybts who constantly kept motivating me. Thank you friend <3

Backspace. Typing. Backspace. Uggh.

You were not well and decided to work from home. It wasn’t exactly going as you had planned. This was literally your 8th attempt at trying to frame a sentence and yet you couldn’t recall what exactly was the intent of this email that you were typing out. Your boss had asked you to write something for someone but you couldn’t get your head around it because your mind was too busy creating scenarios of your boyfriend’s military discharge.

How you wished you were there, waiting for him but unfortunately you couldn’t. You have had this discussion with him after the news of his prolonged military enlistment and it was decided that it’d be better if you were out of the scene; completely. You didn’t say anything and neither did he. To say that it hurt would probably be an understatement but things were the way they were. He had already been through much and you didn’t want to be a burden by imposing more on him.

Being a celebrity was tough, that too a member of the world famous Big Bang at that. The pressure was unimaginable but Seunghyun, or T.O.P as the world called him, was a man who had the reins of his life in his own hands, and that’s what had made you fall for him. He was unpredictable, carefree but most importantly he was himself.

Taking a deep sigh you tried to push these sour thoughts aside and went back to attempting to concentrate on the work at hand. Today was going to be a long day.

Throughout the day you kept scrolling through your instagram feed to check for updates. After hours of struggling with your work you decided to scroll again and that’s when you saw a video, of him. It was uploaded an hour ago. He was walking away from his car escorted by security on all sides, and towards his patiently waiting fans. He was in a crisp black suit, hair gelled away from his face exposing his glowing face. He looked healthy. He looked..clean except for a tiny cut near his mouth. He bowed to his fans and then proceeded to shake their hands one by one. They crying, smiling, too glad to see him, just like you.

And then you just gave up, frustrated beyond limits, tears making their way to the corner of your eyes and down your cheeks, you shut your laptop, left a message on your work group and switched off your cellphone. You just couldn’t take it anymore. As if the torture of being away from him for these years wasn’t enough that you had to go through this too.

You missed him, missed his smell, his touch, his presence. This place that you both had bought together lacked his warmth. He had left only a month after moving into this house and his memories were barely there. When you started this journey with him you thought you’ll make it through with him, waiting on the other side of the line and you would’ve if not for the scandal that followed and shattered your hopes completely.

You rolled in your bed closing your eyes in response to the splitting headache. You laid there for don’t know how long only to be pulled out of your trance by the sound of the door bell.

You got up, heart racing, butterflies in your stomach and just ran towards the door. You twisted the knob slowly with trembling fingers really not ready to face whatever was behind the wooden barrier but the devil completed the deed by pushing it all the way through. You got the wind knocked out of you when your eyes met. His eyes were boring into you, analysing you, his expression not giving a clue.

And then he did the honours accompanied with his dimpled smile, “Long time no see, y/n.”

But you just stood there, frozen to the ground.

“How... are you here?”

“I mean why?”

“What?”

You kept mumbling those nonsense question with tears streaming down you cheeks. Putting you out of your misery he just engulfed you in his strong arms not caring about answering at all and that was more than what you needed.

His touch that you had missed was more than enough to break you into uncontrollable sobs. You poured all your struggles, loneliness in it and heaved into his chest while he just silently brushed your hair with his fingers and kept kissing the top of your head now and then.

When you relaxed after a while he pushed you away from his chest cupping your face into his big hands. He brought his lips to yours and you obliged, welcoming his gesture. This kiss wasn’t to satiate either of your needs, it was a confirmation that he was there for you now.

He still didn’t utter a word instead pulled you towards your bedroom. Once inside he made you sit on the bed and then disappeared out of the room, god knows to do what. You just waited there for him tapping your feet on the floor, nervously.

He returned with a glass of water and a tablet that looked like aspirin. “Take it” he ordered and you took the medicine from his palm. But how did he get to know about your headache which you had clearly forgotten about as soon as you saw him.

“You always get a headache after you cry and you obviously have one now since this is the most I’ve ever seen you cry.” He answered reading the unspoken question in your eyes and a tear slipped again.

“Y/N”, he whispered, kneeling in front of you and wiping the lone tear with the pad of his thumb. “I’m here now.”

“I know but I just..” You let that trail off facing too much difficulty in speaking fearing that you might end up turning on full mode crying. He understood and just gave on of his heart warming smiles.

You both just ended up cuddling together in the warmth of the blanket, his back against the heardboard and your head on his chest, fingers clutching his shirt and his playing with your hair.

“You know I wouldn’t have left if I knew I’ll have to come back to this.” Hearing this made your heart swell and you thought you might just end yo crying again until he said “I mean how much did that evil boss of yours made you work?” He laughed and you pulled away to hit him playfully.

“What?” He asked and you just bowed you head and mumbled an “I missed you” which was barely audible but he somehow listened.

“Come here.” He pulled you to him again and said “Y/N, you’re a strong woman. I know that and I also know my decisions must’ve hurt you a lot for you to cry like that. But the things that happened in the past year I didn’t want you to be dragged into it, at all and that’s why I kept you away from everything, good or bad.”

He paused and took a deep breath to compose himself. You could feel the pain in his words. “When I ordered them to exclude you from everything, I knew I was driving you away from me and there was a chance you might even leave me, I mean why would a woman like you would ever wait for a man like me? But it was a risk I had to take.”

“And here you are waiting for me, shedding those precious tears for me and I’ll be forever grateful for that. Thank you, Y/N. And I love you.”

You got up from his hold and straddled him, wiping your tears with the sleeves of your tshirt. “I love you too” and kissed him with all your might and he reciprocated. Soon the kiss turned heated, lips against lips, tongue fighting for dominance and hands running down everywhere. Stopping abruptly you both pulled back, eyes burning with passion and panting, gulping air to make up for the loss. That’s when you noticed something silver shining around his neck. You pulled the chain from underneath his shirt. It didn’t take you long to recognise that it was the same pendant that you had gifted him on his first birthday away with both your initials engraved on it.

“You wore this?” You asked feeling the engravings with your thumb. Surprise clear in your voice.

“Everyday.”

———————-

My ask box is open. Feel free to drop in requests.

[megashadowdragon]

@spoonoftar  @thehtg-therealone

Someone made a thread about 1 on 1 fights recently. So I decided to post this.

Understand something though: This is purely about story. A lot of people tend to jump to conclusions and will have knee jerk reactions without even reading but I want to make it clear this is just about what would make for good storytelling. This is me explaining why I believe this particular rivalry has a lot of story potential.

I'm aware that no one is going to enjoy this but I do this because a lot people are under the impression that RWBY needs less 1 on 1 fights and that couldn't further from the truth. One thing that most people don't seem to understand is why this form of storytelling is so effective. Over-the-top spectacle can be visually appealing but unfortunately by itself thats all it will ever amount to. A battle that is all flash and no substance. One such example is Raven vs Cinder. While the fight makes for decent eye candy it is by far lacking in terms of story. There is a reason why fights like Gaara vs Rock Lee, Ichigo vs Byakuya, Deku vs Todaroki, Gon vs Pitou, Luffy vs Rob Lucci etc have and will be engraved in the minds of viewers for years to come. It is because people are attracted to great drama. Not simply the flashy abilities. While that can get people interested in a series it's appeal is only surface level. Thats not whats going to stay with people. What makes a fight great is the character drama between the two individuals. It's the story told through that conflict.

I get that RWBY is a show that tries to push Teamwork & Unity as a theme....but so does literally every other shounen battle series. Yet they all still have very memorable and compelling 1 on 1 fights. You don't have to have one or the other. Both are necessary. Wanting to emphasize Teamwork is great but the fact is that in Battle focused stories 1 on 1 fights is actually what builds character. Something that many would argue is utterly lacking in RWBY.

Which is why I argue that there is far more story to pull out of the Jaune vs Cinder conflict than there is the Ruby vs Cinder conflict. And that this is the better narrative to spin based on what we already have.

Keep in mind I'm not saying that Jaune & Cinder are the only characters you can(and should) do this with.

Ruby & Salem

Weiss & Watts

Yang & Hazel

Blake & Tyrian

Are all Hero/Villain relationships that you can build great character drama with by setting up a proper clash of ideologies. I'm only using Jaune vs Cinder as one example because pretty much everyone hates Jaune and would be glad to see either him or Cinder killed off never to be seen again and I feel that is an utter waste of story potential.

But first I'd like to explain why Ruby & Cinder fails as an effective Hero & Opponent dynamic as RT is currently trying to present it as.

Why Ruby vs Cinder Fails

“If your characters don’t have a response—in speech, in thought, or in action—to the events happening to them, they haven’t been touched by those events, and the reader will likewise remain untouched and uninvolved.” —Beth Hill

It's very clear that Cinder & Ruby are being set up as rivals. Silver & Gold. Naive cute youth, vs Cunning mature beauty etc. Not to mention Cinder's very typical "Villain obsessed with the Hero" shtick. Though I'd like to argue(and I'm sure I'm not the first) that their conflict doesn't really work. The narrative tries to set up some sort of a beef between them, but ultimately it just falls flat. We know that Cinder really really hates Ruby.....But why? Because she scarred her face? This comes off as really shallow and isn't something that the audience can really invest in. Now you could argue that this is done in an attempt to make Cinder seem vain or petty, but without any backstory the audience isn't able to be invested in her reasons. Because again, it's superficial. On the flip side, what is Ruby's reason for despising Cinder? Because she's evil? Because she hurt her friend? Again, these are incredibly superficial reasons. It comes off as "I'm good and you're evil therefore I hate you". It can be seen as nothing more than a good guy who hates a bad guy for being bad, and a bad guy who hates a good guy for being good. Not to mention, Ruby hating Cinder for killing Pyrrha is hardly believable in the first place due to the fact that she has hardly spent any time with Pyrrha whatsoever. Without any deep seated emotion behind them or layers to this conflict it will always come off as empty. A vapid and contrived good guy vs bad guy beef loosely concocted to make Cinder hate our main Hero and nothing more.

However the conflict between Juane and Cinder has again far more story potential. From an emotional standpoint it just works. Jaune had strong feelings for Pyrrha be they romantic or otherwise and thus unlike Ruby it gives him ample reason to truly despise Cinder. This alone is already enough reason to be emotionally invested in the conflict as we have watched Jaune and Pyrrha grow closer over the course of Season 1 only to have her be brutally murdered by Cinder. Jaune's feelings of weakness, self-doubt, guilt, and anger are all heavy emotions brought about by Cinder's actions and we perfectly understand why he feels the way he feels. His animosity towards Cinder is only stoked knowing she feels no remorse over her actions and in fact practically forgot about it. As such we genuinely want to see Jaune get revenge for Pyrrha and make up for his failure at the end of Volume 3. So already when looking at just Jaune's side of things we find that his motivations for hating Cinder make perfect sense due to the emotional weight behind them. But what could make Cinder care enough about Jaune to hate him like she does Ruby?

Values in Conflict

"Great drama is not the product of two individuals butting heads; it is the product of the values and ideas of the individuals going into battle. It's conflict between characters and their values. A good opponent has a set of beliefs that come under assault as well. The beliefs of the hero have no meaning, and do not get expressed in the story, unless they come into conflict with the beliefs of at least one other character, preferably the opponent. The actions of the hero and the opponent are based on a set of beliefs, or values. These values represent each character's view of what makes life good. In the best stories, the values of the opponent come into conflict with the values of the hero. Through that conflict, the audience sees which way of life is superior. Much of the power of the story rests on the quality of this opposition."

-John Truby, The Anatomy of Story

Parallels: First when looking at their characters they're both very similar in some respects. Especially in terms of their goals. In Volume 3 Episode 7 opens with Cinder stating that she wants to be Strong, Feared, and Powerful. From this it can be inferred that there was indeed a time where she was not those things. Why else would she desire them? It was because she did not have them. Therefore, once upon a time Cinder was weak, pathetic, and powerless. Her semblance also hints at this as it really seems rather pathetic compared to most. It's barely anything that could provide an advantage in combat. I wouldn't be surprised if her power was once considered worthless or even outright unfit for combat. Basically from this we can conclude she was an individual who was in a situation where she constantly felt weak and helpless and because of that weakness she desired power so strongly that she would do anything for it. Even her name which has been implied to be fake and something she invented on her own hints at the idea that she hated the person she was and wanted to become someone else entirely. Now, similarly Jaune has also always been considered a weakling. A joke. A goofball nobody, that no one ever takes seriously. As we know from Volume 1 this is something Jaune is fully aware of and he despises it. He hates being pathetic. Weak. Thus, he desires to be a Hero. Someone he can respect. So much so that he'd forge his transcripts and infiltrate the most prestigious Huntsmen School in the world. He'd go to such drastic measures as to commit a crime of this caliber if it meant taking a step towards his dream. As such if we were to give them a conflict: Cinder's reason for hating Jaune could be that he is a reminder of what she used to be. A living breathing remnant of that pathetic weakling she once was. Thus looking at him disgusts her as he symbolizes her past self, the identity she tried to forget that keeps coming back to haunt her. So having Jaune serve as a reminder of her own weakness will be the start of her wanting to see him dead just as much as, if not more than Ruby.

But how will their conflict be structured? Since RWBY is an anime, or more specifically an honorary shounen considering it's place in Jump. Lets use a bit of shounen storytelling. Shounen's most prominent writing technique is one where the fights act as Character Arcs in and of themselves. Now, matching one's internal struggle with the external one is nothing new or revolutionary but shounen battle manga have unquestionably mastered the technique. Every fight tells a story and can even sometimes be considered the "Hero's Journey" in miniature. Often acting as clashes of not just personality, but ideologies, and are used to explore the themes of the narrative. The main thing I'm pointing out with this analysis is how fights can and should be written. Fights can be far more than a mere spectacle of flashy movements and abilities. With this in mind lets just imagine that each of their fights/clashes/encounters spurs on development in the two culminating in a final fight towards the end of the series, that concludes the story arcs of both characters.

~Themes~

Ambition: Both characters clearly posses great aspirations and ambition. Now I know Ambition is a word people like to tie to Villains. Deeming them selfish because of it, whereas the Heroes are portrayed as "selfless" doing things for the sake of others rather than themselves. However theres nothing wrong with having an Ambition. It's not an evil thing in it itself. Nor is it synonymous with greed. It's perfectly normal to have goals and to work hard towards achieving them. Thats all Ambition is. However the difference is in how you go about achieving those goals. Sometimes the hero and the villain are basically the same except for the fact that each took a single step in a different direction. Thus, one layer of this potential conflict between Jaune and Cinder can be about Ambition and how each character represents the flip side of what it means to pursue a goal. Now their goal in itself is somewhat similar. They both seek power and strength but for different reasons. While for both of them it is on some level a quest for self-worth, Cinder desires power largely for the sake of having it. So that she can inspire fear. Jaune desires strength so that he can protect those close to him and to have the ability to help those who need it. Where Cinder is ruthless. Jaune is Kind and Compassionate. Where Cinder uses the people around her like tools for her success. With Jaune we see that his support system on the ladder to success is built on friendship and mutual respect. Cinder tears down those around her using them as stepping stones to achieve her goals whereas Jaune holds up those around him and they eagerly do so for him in turn. Cinder may have worked hard but she gains strength by stealing from others whereas Jaune simply works hard and his power is one that literally allows him to give power to others instead of taking it. And Lastly, where Cinder's actions are clearly rooted in some deep seated hatred. Jaune is motivated by love. Or at least the memory of the woman who once loved him.

Destiny: Another layer to the fight could involve Cinder's belief in Destiny. Putting that empty one-liner of hers to good use we can pit Cinder's Destiny against Jaune's Hard Work in a clash of ideals. When creating a clash of ideals it's important to look for the positive and negative versions of the same value. A thematic clash of a Self-Made form of Destiny vs Predetermined Fate form of Destiny. Jaune's position in this thematic conflict being that the person you turn yourself into is entirely up to your own actions. Not Fate. This was also Pyrrhas version of Destiny. Jaune is essentially carrying on Pyrrha's will by representing her ideals in his final rematch with Cinder. It's the idea that regardless or who they are or where they came from it is their actions that brought them here. This should involve Jaune showcasing the techniques he's trained his ass off for pitted against the powers Cinder has ruthlessly stolen while under the belief that this is her Destiny. One that Fate owes her. During their final fight thanks to his training with Ozpin, Jaune has reached his true potential and with a combination of his newfound strength, some strategy & tactics forces her to concede that the previously untalented nobody is now not only the "stronger" fighter but also the stronger person. With Cinder ultimately coming to the conclusion that she could have been anyone she wanted to but has willingly turned herself into nothing more than a monster. A beast to be put down. And she had no one to blame but herself. Hers was a path of self-destruction where Jaune's path was one of self-overcoming. Having triumphed over his own weaknesses and short-comings whereas Cinder merely succumbed to them. Jaune's victory shouldn't simply be in defeating her or watching her die. He should utterly destroy everything that she believes in. Proving that everything she did to achieve her goals was worthless. That everything she did uptil now meant absolutely nothing.

Ozpin & Salem: Whats more, another layer to this fight could be to depict the difference in ideals between Ozpin and Salem. I've always been curious as to who would train Jaune. After all he is the weakest but the one with the most potential and storywise it just makes sense to bring him up to the level of everyone else so that he's not a hindrance on the battlefield. But in regards to training I've always had in mind that either Ozpin or his own Father would be the one to assist him. While I may prefer the latter, despite my preferences I will admit that Ozpin makes the most sense. It's far more appropriate that both Ozpin and Jaune; the two people who experienced the biggest failings during the Fall of Beacon come together to correct the mistakes they made. Both of their failures being tied directly to Cinder it makes sense that their combined effort should be eventually what put her down. With Ozpin seeing Jaune's immense desire to overcome Cinder he finally decides to train him personally to aid in his success as well as make up for his own mistakes. Seen from this perspective it's hard to imagine how Ruby even has a stake in this conflict at all. Cinder's defeat should mean something for characters involved and seeing Cinder defeated should mean the most to the man who failed to protect his school and the boy who failed to protect his partner. That way the victory is actually emotionally impactful because of how personal the victory is to those who had a hand in it. You can also think of this as being similar to Deku & All Might's situation. Remember Ozma is basically the Original Hero. So we have a young boy whose always wanted to be a Great Hero being trained by the former Greatest Hero there ever was. Thus, adding a new twist to the fight so that now it's a battle between the boy trained by Ozpin and the girl trained by Salem. Both Salem and Ozpin have raised up two youths who represent their ideals and the winning side will essentially be the ones to inherit the world. Not only would this conflict be about leaving the world to the next generation but also through these two individuals be a battle that asks the question of what ideology will decide the future. In addition to this, Jaune and Cinder could be used to mirror the conflict between Ozpin and Salem. Acting as a microcosm of their grander conflict. We have this generation's new Hero a White Knight attempting to save a beautiful Princess(Cinderella) from destroying herself on the path of Evil. Just as Ozpin tried to do years ago with Salem but failed. Here we can have Jaune succeed where his Master had failed.

Summary

So heres a quick and shortened Summary of how their conflict can play out: Jaune, no longer grieving over Pyrrha is now using her death as inspiration to become the Hero he dreamed about. He will no longer be treating his life as if it had no value. Pyrrha did not sacrifice hers so that he could die pointlessly. That would make her a fool who died for nothing. If he died then Pyrrha will have wasted her time on him. Death is not an apology. He makes an oath that he is going to live. That he would repay her sacrifice with success. With victory. By becoming the greatest Huntsmen he could possibly be. And save as many lives as possible in the process. He would do it too. Remember an Arc never goes back on their word. But the first step to that, would be defeating her killer. He would seek to surpass and overcome Cinder. Rectifying his first and greatest failure. He attacks her everytime he sees her. He loses every time but each fight he comes back just a little better than before. He won't stop coming back either. No matter how many times she seemingly gets rid of him Jaune Arc always comes back. Whenever he is not on screen he is busy training. With a new move or a new trick here or there and gradually he begins to become a real nuisance to Cinder. Now, remember from Her perspective Jaune represents her past self. Or rather a better version of her that was weak and powerless yet still striving to be strong and through effort is slowly beginning to achieve it. Though not through the methods she currently uses. This is important because Jaune's consistent interactions with Cinder will start to affect her development. Causing her to reflect on her actions and question if the path she's on is the right one(note: we did see a brief glimpse of this when Cinder was watching Tyrian attack that Ursa like a madman). After all if the man she once deemed a weak failure can continue to grow like this what had been stopping her from simply doing the same? He had not sacrificed his limbs and turned himself into a monster. Did she really need to be ruthless? or even join up with Salem to achieve her goals? Thoughts like this combined with Cinder having flashbacks to her past whenever she sees Jaune suddenly makes him someone she must kill at all costs due to him drudging up old memories, making her question everything she's done up until this point. Then it becomes about proving herself correct. About putting the past behind her. That, if she didn't kill this fool and prove that his way was wrong then she'll have lost any justification for her existence and acquisition of power. She had to join up with Salem. It was the only way to become powerful, strong and respected. She had no other choice. But in addition to these thoughts there was also a new emotion bubbling to the surface whenever she interacted with Jaune. Respect. Admiration. For the person who was just like her. Showing stout determination in the face of those who deemed him weak. Driven to prove them wrong. Absolutely dedicated towards achieving his ambition. These such traits would lead to her sparing his life on occasion and additionally, she finds herself slowly yet surely looking forward to their encounters. She remembers his name now. How could she forget? Jaune Arc? The name practically rolled off the tongue. Now whenever he appears before her stronger than he was before she can't help but grin. Eager to attack him. See how far he's come. At this point she's nearly forgotten her hatred towards Ruby. She was enjoying watching Jaune improve himself simultaneously proving wrong all those who doubted him. Even her.

Similarly, we see that Jaune slowly starts to understand Cinder over the course of their encounters, whereas in their first official meeting he couldn't comprehend her actions at all. He starts to relate to her intense drive to be something greater. Bits of information lead to him coming to the conclusion that at one point she was someone like him, weak and helpless. However she'd actually achieved her goal. Coming from absolutely nothing to someone so powerful. Which gave him hope of him doing the same. But her path has made it clear she didn't have any of the heartfelt support that he did. Her having only the monstrous Salem to turn to. Jaune against his better judgment begins to feel sorry for the one known as Cinder Fall. Yet the same time he'd also begrudgingly come to respect her and all that she'd overcome. But he was confused. Why did she desire further power? Did she not see how strong she already was? Then it dawns on him. She had already overcome so much yet she hasn't overcome herself. She was still so lost in her own anger that it has blinded her to the realization that she had already achieved her goal. So Seeing her as the monster he could have become, Jaune makes the decision to let go of his hate for Cinder. Lest it turn him into a monster as well. Thus no longer feeling hatred for the woman he so consistently opposes he begins seeking answers. To understand her. To learn why she is the way she is. After, learning of her past her understands what he must do. Spending all his time with Ruby had taught him that being a Hero was about more that just rushing in and slaying some monster, it was also about lending a hand to those in need. Even if they didn't deserve it(Edit: While I think it'd be interesting if Jaune comes to this realization because of Ruby, we do in fact already see this in Jaune's character when saves Cardin despite all the horrible things he'd done to him).

(Note: This fight can occur just before the final battle. You can have Jaune & Oscar show up fresh out the metaphporic hyperbolic time chamber (or whatever kind of literary device you wanna use) in time to help Team RWBY deal with Salem. However Jaune doesn't have to literally surpass Cinder for this to work. You can have him surpass her metaphorically. In fact it might be more thematically potent to have Jaune still be weaker than her in terms of overall power but still manage to win. Showing that for all her great power she's still worthless without the strength of character that Jaune has and thats what makes her weak.)

Long story short, their fight concludes with Jaune completely besting Cinder. Jaune's final blow kills the parasite Grimm within her. Cinder dies, but only for a moment before Jaune's powers restores her again, but in that brief moment she remembers Ruby and how pointless her hatred towards her was. How petty she was back then. This brief moment of repentance causes the maiden powers to be sent to Ruby. With this victory, Jaune crushes her ideals and sets her back to Zero. Destroying her Grimm parts and using his semblance to completely restore her human limbs and heal her scars. She is completely human once more. Giving her a chance to start over.

The point being: these two characters, whether it's their personalities, characterization or themes simply make for the better conflict. It works because Jaune's existence attacks her beliefs about herself and her motivations for being on the path she's on. Cinder's existence provides Jaune with motivation while attacking his weaknesses as a character and pushing him to be better. Thats what a proper Hero/Opponent dynamic should look like. Yes, I understand that some people prefer Team fights because they find it interesting to have other characters cover their weaknesses in battle and while that may be "useful" it's not as compelling storytelling as having characters overcome their weaknesses. Having someone to protect you is fine but if relied on it can reduce the characters to feeling stagnant. You cannot grow if you're always being protected. A 1 on 1 forces a character to face their weaknesses and find a way around it or overcome it. This is what builds character and leads to character growth. Hence why 1 v 1s are significant in stories like this. It allows the characters to stand on their own two feet when they have to. More importantly, this specific encounter can actually tell a proper story. One of two people with opposing world views, and personalities that come into conflict who are ultimately challenged and changed by said conflict. Jaune helps to rid Cinder of her hatred and desire for destruction, even giving her the option to choose her own path from here on out, while Cinder inadvertently helps Jaune to become the Hero he initially set out to be. Theres arguably room to take this a step further by going in a romantic direction, what with Jaune being a "White Knight" and a wannabe Prince Charming and Cinder being "Cinderella" and a wannabe Princess but ultimately the point is the fight itself gets a story across.

Final thoughts

-Some would argue that they just want to see her get unceremoniously killed off, and while that might be emotionally satisfying in the moment but Jaune saving/not killing her is the better conclusion because it better expresses an answer to a thematic argument. It's essentially one big middle finger to her entire way of life. Crushing everything she believes in the process.

-I know some people might take issue with Jaune being able to restore limbs but this is purely theoretically and I only included it because of the symbolic meaning it provides of the "monster" of Cinder's rage being destroyed and her humanity shining through. However, it should be noted that Semblances grow over time. They evolve. If we look at it in rpg terms Jaune's Semblance is basically at level 1. So for all we know it might not be outside the realm of possibility if it grows even further.

-Others might take issue Jaune beating her at all because she's a maiden but it's entirely appropriate imo. You don't really need to be as powerful as someone else to actually beat them in a fight. "Power levels" don't always decide the outcome of fights.

-If this is to work then theres one thing he should be doing and it's constantly training. That kind of all day, every day, work all day/sleep all night, Roronoa Zoro/Rock Lee style training routine. Only to emphasize the theme of his Hard Work vs Cinder taking the Easy Route of just stealing power instead of becoming strong through her own merit. Basically, Jaune takes the hard road to growth while Cinder cuts corners.

-One more thing that I neglected to mention earlier that leans into the idea of Jaune & Cinder being used to represent the greater conflict between Ozpin & Salem(and I mean strictly thematically not romantically) is that one of Jaune's themes is that he represents The Sun. Jaune's first name meaning yellow in French and the etymology of the name "Arc" not only has "Holy" connotations but is also a reference to the Sun. Jaune Arc essentially means Yellow Sun. The reason this is significant is because the Sun in ancient times was worshiped as the "Life Giver". Which is literally Jaune's Semblance. So Jaune is the Yellow Sun that Gives Life and Cinder is the burning flame that reduces all things to Ash. One representing Life and the other representing Death and Destruction. Much like the God of Light & Darkness but more importantly like Ozpin & Salem as it makes for a great way to symbolize the Cycle of Life, Death & Rebirth. With this in mind if my scenario plays out, the scene where Jaune saves Cinder can be read as: "a wild flame reduces all life around it to Cinders but through the light of the Sun that life is reborn from the ashes anew". If such a thing happened I'd be curious about whether or not this could lead to Cinder gaining a new Semblance, one representing her growth as a character. Something Phoenix related? I dunno, thats just a random thought.

[calligraphist-artemisia]

The Sun Prince (Chapter 3)

Summary:  It was an accident. A simple misstep that sent him plunging into the darkness and waking an ancient magic. Now Prompto has to deal with the consequences of making a deal with an Astral and learn how to control the magic blooming inside of him.

Also posted on AO3 and fanfiction.net under the username “kishirokitsune”

-

3. Spilling the Truth

Prompto numbly sat in the passenger's seat of the Regalia while Noctis slid into the drivers side and shut the door. The pressure to speak weighed him down so heavily that he had a hard time getting the words to come out right. Instead, Prompto stared blankly at his hands.

“Promto...” Noctis trailed off, frustration coating his voice.

For the moment, the prince was holding himself back, but there was an explosion building the longer Prompto remained silent. Noctis's temper was a fierce and swift one, usually burning out quickly when it came to his friends, but it was the first time Prompto was faced with it being directed towards him. How did Gladio and Ignis handle it? The very thought of Noct being mad at him made him feel sick.

“You've been acting weird ever since you fell into those ruins and now there's whatever that was!” Noctis gestured towards the road, his voice rising in volume. “What the hell was that? What have you been hiding from us?”

“I- I don't know,” Prompto stammered out the truth. He swallowed his panic and hoped that he could hold it back long enough to tell his friend everything that he was still keeping secret.

He started at the beginning, knowing it was the only way he'd stay on track and not forget any detail. Some of it Noct already knew about after their talk the night before, but Prompto repeated it anyway, though he glossed over his descriptions of the murals and winding halls of the ruins.

Noctis was surprisingly quiet through his explanation, only shifting slightly in his seat when Prompto got to the part where the walls were closing in on him. He made a curious sound at his plea to the Astrals.

“You offered up your camera? Wait, that's why you've only been using your phone to take pictures?” Noctis asked.

Prompto nodded. “Well, yeah. I didn't have anything else. Not sure the Gods really need a camera. I just had to hope its value to me was enough, and it must have been, because that's when Rhyos showed up.”

“Rhyos...” Noctis repeated with a frown. “I've never heard that name before. Guess he could be a messenger, like Gentiana, but none of that explains the light show you just put on.”

Ah.

Prompto remembered what worried him the most. Talking to an unknown Astral was one thing, but touching an ancient artifact was a whole different issue, even if it did happen at the urging of said Astral. “Um, okay, so there was one more thing in that room and I swear I didn't want to touch it, but Rhyos insisted that it would help me get out, so...”

Seeing was believing, right?

Prompto reached into the armiger for his bag, letting it fall into his lap in a shower of blue magic. He avoided looking Noctis in the eyes as he pulled out the crown, which cast a soft glow over the interior of the Regalia, and held it up with both hands so his friend could get a good look at it.

“Well, it's magic, that's for sure,” Noctis remarked once he found his voice.

Prompto tried not to let his disappointment show. He knew Noctis had already told him there were no records from the age of Solheim, but he'd hoped seeing the crown might jog his memory of a legend or a story passed down through the ages. The Lucis Caelum's had been around since the end of the Astral War; how was it they knew nothing?

“We should tell Ignis and Gladio about this,” Noctis said.

“No!” Prompto blurted out, earning a raised eyebrow from his friend. “I mean, not yet? I dunno... There's already so much they have to worry about with our lack of funds and trying to find the parts Cid needs to fix the boat, I don't wanna add to all of it. They don't need to worry about me.”

“You're their friend. The more you try and hide this, the more they're going to worry,” Noctis pointed out.

He knew that, but hearing someone else say it? That he and Ignis and Gladio were friends? Wow. It still blew him away.

Despite that, he still wasn't ready to tell them. He knew he should, especially after his accidental burst of magic. (Holy shit, he had magic?! He'd freak out more over that later.) But there would be so many questions that he had no answers to, and there remained that bit of fear in his heart that they would judge him for making an agreement with an Astral he knew nothing about.

That had to be, like, at the top of the list of Very Bad Ideas, right?

Noctis sighed. “Fine. You'll have to tell them eventually or they'll find out on their own. Trust me, they'd rather hear it from you.”

Prompto nodded. “So you really don't know anything about this crown? Or any crown from Solheim?” he asked, just in case.

“Nothing I can think of, but that's not really a surprise. My ancestors kept track of our history, but there was nothing left to remember after Solheim fell. Like I said, Luna might know more, just because she's the Oracle.”

The mention of Lady Lunafreya sent a shiver down Prompto's spine, which he shook off, unsure of why hearing her name would cause such a reaction. “Uh, yeah. Sounds good.”

Noctis was quiet for a moment, and then, very softly broke the silence. “We should get up to the cabin before the others come looking for us.”

Prompto agreed and stuffed the crown back into his bag and then into the armiger. After a quick look around to make sure the coast was clear, the two exited the Regalia and made their way up the hill to rejoin their friends.

-----

Ignis liked to think he was very good at reading others.

With Gladio and Noctis, it was quite easy, even without considering his many years of practice ad getting to know them. Noctis had a habit of broadcasting everything he was feeling or thinking, whether it was through his expressions or body language. He knew the prince was fully capable of masking his emotions, he simply chose not to. Gladio often did it on purpose, preferring the blunt approach over anything subtle, though when the situation called for it, he did have a masterful poker face. More often, he hid his true feelings behind another.

Prompto was.... different. Perhaps because of his common upbringing or maybe because of the sheer number of secrets surrounding him. Secrets that Ignis once attempted to look deeper into, only to be stopped by the Marshall himself, which made Ignis all the more curious about Prompto. All of that may have had a hand in his struggle to understand the blond and figure out his motives for befriending Noctis.

There was always a motive.

Except, naturally, for the utter anomaly that was Prompto Argentum, who only wanted a friend.

He never asked for anything. Never used his status as the best friend of the prince to get what he wanted. Never abused the power and status that came with their friendship. No, the worst Prompto did was encourage the Noctis's poor habits and cause a bit of a distraction when there was work to be done.

Ignis had gotten much better at reading Prompto over the years, especially once he gave in and accepted that he too had become friends with him, and it was with absolute certainty that Ignis knew Prompto was hiding something from them.

It was something new. Something recent.

And what was more maddening, was that Noctis was in on whatever it was.

“Quit thinking so loud, Iggy,” Gladio grumbled as he sat down in the camp chair next to him.

Ignis couldn't stop thinking about it. He hated secrets. They always found a way to swing around and bite him in the ass when he least expected it, sometimes literally. (Like the time Noct brought home a stray cat and thought he could hide it in the closet.)

“They're hiding something.”

Gladio raised an eyebrow and looked pointedly to where Noctis and Prompto were playing around with the chocobo's they'd rented for their journey through Malmalam Thicket. The pair were trying out new tricks and the large birds seemed content to let them do what they wanted. Gladio turned his gaze back to Ignis, who met his eyes and refused to back down.

He sighed, loudly and heavily, as though his whole evening was ruined by whatever Ignis wanted to talk about. “What makes you think that? They seem normal to me.”

“Are you really telling me that you haven't noticed?” Ignis asked. He thought for sure that the Shield would have picked up on it as well. He was normally so observant.

Gladio just stared at him.

Ignis refused to sigh. He kept his frustration tightly bottled up as he began to explain the oddities he'd noticed over the past few days. “Prompto has not attempted to take a single selfie mid-battle since we left Taelpar, nor has he asked to stop for a photo-op. In fact, I have not seen his camera once since he fell into those ruins. The only pictures he has taken have been with his camera.”

“Well there you go. He either lost it or it got damaged when he was down there. Noct probably offered to get a new one and now he's trying to convince Prompto that it'd be worth the money. Mystery solved,” Gladio said dismissively.

“I doubt it's something so simple.”

“Not everything's complicated, Iggy.” Gladio stretched his arms out over his head and then fully relaxed in his chair. “We'll just take on some extra hunts and get him a new one once we get back to Lestallum.”

But why hide it? Why not tell them something happened to his camera? Was he waiting for them to ask? Ignis had so many more questions, but Gladio made it clear he was done talking by taking out his newest novel to get in some reading before bed. Ignis would just have to mull things over to himself.

There was more to it than the camera, he could feel it.

-----

Prompto just needed a little time to himself, and heading back to the motel room early to take the first shower was the perfect excuse. He knew Noctis would spend at least an hour playing Justice Monsters Five, and Ignis and Gladio were unlikely to leave him there alone. It was too risky, even in an out-of-the-way place like Old Lestallum.

He took care of his shower first, washing away the dirt and grime that accumulated from camping and their trip through Malmalam Thicket. The warm water helped clear his mind as well, leaving him feeling refreshed and looking forward to a good night's sleep.

Prompto wrapped a towel around his waist after drying himself off, figuring he had a little more time before he had to get dressed.

He wiped down the mirror to get a better look at his recent injuries. Most of them were healed thanks to the use of the potions they kept on hand, but there was one that went particularly deep that still twinged when he moved his arm the wrong way. Prompto twisted around to get a better look at his shoulderblade, where there was a faint red line marring the freckles there. He nodded in satisfaction.

As cool as Gladio's scars were, he didn't want any to call his own. The clawmark from the bandersnatch would cause some discoloration for a while, but was well on its way to healing.

Prompto's gaze dropped to his wrists as he turned to face the mirror properly, but as always the sight of ugly black lines on the underside of his right wrist made him quickly look away. He forced his eyes back to the mirror instead.

There was a second face alongside his own.

Prompto screamed and failed his arms as he spun toward the intruder, his mind going blank in panic. He acted purely on instinct, backing up against the sink hard enough to bruise. “What-?! Who-?!”

There was a heavy sigh. “Are all humans this melodramatic? Here I am, gracing you with my divine presence and this is how you choose to greet me?”

Prompto clasped his towel in fear of it falling and revealing far too much of himself to the ancient being. “Rhyos?”

“In the flesh!” The Astral beamed at him, apparently pleased that Prompto remembered his name.

He looked different than before. Gone were the frayed, graying robes and in their place were tight-fitting pants, a red t-shirt, and a thick leather jacket. Heavy boots laced up to mid-calf. His long, dark hair was braided back to keep it out of the way and on top of his head was a pair of sunglasses. If not for the unnaturally bright red eyes, he could have passed as an average hunter.

Rhyos frowned as he looked him up and down, and Prompto flushed under the attention.

“D-do you mind?” he stammered out, gesturing towards the door. He squeaked as Rhyos grabbed his hand, turning it so he could see the barcode. Prompto tried to pull his hand away, but the Astral's grip was firm.

“What is this?” Rhyos asked.

“I don't know. I've had it for as long as I can remember and no one's ever told me what it means, just that I need to keep it covered,” Prompto said, fidgeting nervously.

And honestly, he hadn't wanted to ask. Maybe he did when he was really young, but he didn't remember that and he doubted his parents gave him a straight answer if he did.

Content with the response, Rhyos released him and waved a hand at the door. “Unless you'd prefer we carry on out conversation in here, as lovely as this room is, we should go sit and talk. I imagine you have questions.”

Yes!

Prompto swallowed his first response and nodded instead. “Could I get dressed first.”

Rhyos shrugged as he opened the door and walked through. “If you must.”

Only once the door was shut, did Prompto drop his towel and quickly get dressed. His mind whirled with thoughts. He had a great number of questions, but where should he start? How many could he ask before Rhyos's patience wore out? The Astral's mood was of the mercurial sort – constantly shifting in an almost unpredictable way.

He needed to figure out his most pressing questions, and fast!

But there was only so long he could delay, and Prompto left the bathroom without settling on what he wanted to ask first. Not that it mattered in the end, because his mind went perfectly blank at the sight of Rhyos sitting on one of the bed and examining a very familiar camera.

Rhyos looked up and gave him a fanged grin. “Come! I wish to take a, uh, what is it you kids call it these days? A selfie? Yes, come take a selfie with me!”

Prompto was starting to think the man was messing with him. He couldn't possibly be serious, right? He watched Rhyos pat the bed and lift the camera to an appropriate position.

Yeah. He was serious.

Figuring he had nothing to lose, Prompto joined him and hoped that his smile came across as convincing as Rhyos snapped a few photos in quick succession.

“Perfect,” Rhyos said as he looked them over. “I thank you for allowing me the use of the unusual device. I will admit, it took me time to figure it out, but in my defense, I have been asleep for two-thousand years.”

Prompto blinked in surprise as Rhyos pressed the camera into his hands.

“It is clear that it means a great deal to you, from all of the images that are stored within its memory. It would be a shame to keep it from you any longer,” Rhyos said, his voice unexpectedly full of fondness. “I must say, I am impressed by what humanity has accomplished and rebuilt in these long years, but then again, you mortals have always been the creative sort.”

“Uh, thanks?” Prompto said, unsure of what else to say to that.

Rhyos bowed his head graciously. “Now, where is the Crown of Solheim?”

Prompto carefully set aside his camera and then called up his bag from the armiger. From there, he withdrew the crown and held it out to Rhyos, who took it with gentle reverence.

“It has been a long time since anyone had worn this crown. Not since the dying of a golden age. The last to bear the honor was a young boy, one who I believed destined to change the tides and put things back the way they were meant to be.” Rhyos rubbed his thumb across the sun.

There was a moment of silence before Prompto worked up the courage to ask: “What happened to him?”

“It is not a happy tale, Prompto Argentum,” Rhyos said, turning red eyes onto the mortal next to him. “May I ask, how is it you are able to use the magic granted by Bahamut?”

“Oh, um, it's Noct's magic? He just sort of lets us borrow it?” Prompto had no idea how it all worked. He was sure Ignis had explained it to him at one point in time, but he'd been too excited about the entire event that he hadn't paid attention.

Rhyos tilted his head to one side. “So your body is already accustomed to the use of magic?”

“Uh...?”

“Fascinating,” Rhyos murmured, looking at him with renewed interest. “Tell me, have you experienced anything unusual lately? Dizziness perhaps? Trouble with sleeping?”

Did being sick count? It wasn't something Prompto would consider unusual, even if it left as quickly as it came on. No, that wasn't the answer Rhyos was looking for, and maybe in telling the Astral what he knew, Prompto would get some answers of his own. It was sneakier than he preferred, but it wasn't like Rhyos was answering his direct questions.

“I killed a daemon a few nights ago. There was this light... I still don't know how I did it,” Prompto said.

Rhyos grinned in delight. “That is the first manifestation of your gifts. You've proven yourself worthy of the crown.”

First manifestation.

That meant there was more than just killing daemons with light.

Prompto dropped his head into his hands with a low whine. “This can't be happening. Please tell me I knocked myself out when I fell and this has all just been some kind of hallucination.”

Rhyos reached over and pinched him.

Prompto yelped and jerked his arm away. “What was that for?!”

“To prove you're not dreaming,” Rhyos said simply. “Do you know why I saved you that day?”

“Because you're a kind, merciful god?”

Rhyos chuckled at the sarcastic response and Prompto wanted to sink through the floor. What was he doing, speaking to an Astral in such a casual manner? It had to be blasphemy.

“I locked that place away a long time ago, before the War of the Astrals began. Once, it was a temple. The largest and most decorated in all of Eos, right in the heart of Solheim. A place of worship for mortals, and a palace for the gods to visit when they wished to visit.

“It was a monument treasured by all, right up until it became clear that humanity no longer deserved to walk those jeweled halls,” Rhyos said, staring straight at Prompto as he spoke. “Bahamut himself could not pierce the barrier protecting it, and yet somehow you found your way in. Curiousity, Prompto Argentum, is what led me to save you that say and hand to you the Crown of Solheim.”

“I don't deserve it,” Prompto blurted out. “I'm just a commoner – a pleb – there's gotta be someone else. Someone better than me.”

“Nope.”

Prompto blinked and suddenly there was a warm weight settling on his head. “Wh- hey!”

“There is ancient magic at play here. You will find it easier to wield it the more you wear this crown. And trust me on this, if you wish to help your prince and save him and many other from what Fate awaits them, you will want those gifts the crown has to give.” Rhyos stood up, giving Prompto a good look at the massive bird covering the back of the Astral's leather jacket. It was primarily red and orange, though the long tail feathers and wingtips were painted with a rainbow of colors. “Besides, just think of how much bonding time you'll have with your prince charming while you practice your new abilities.”

Prompto gaped at him. “How did- What? No, Noct is my friend.”

Rhyos turned back to him, one eyebrow raised. “You've taken a great many intimate pictures of him, for someone you consider just a friend.”

He couldn't even deny it.

Prompto ducked his head as heat flooded his cheeks. He'd gotten a little carried away in the early parts of their pseudo-bachelor-party road trip, snapping pictures of Noct peacefully napping or gazing out over the ocean while he fished or laughing with his head thrown back at whatever joke Prompto just cracked. If asked, he figured he could brush it off as wanting to put together a fun wedding gift for Lady Lunafreya, but the thought fled his mind when he was actually confronted about it.

“I am afraid this is when we part ways. Your friends will soon return,” Rhyos said.

“What about your request?” Prompto scrambled to ask, remembering at the last minute that he still didn't know what the Astral wanted.

Rhyos took a few seconds to answer. “Perhaps next we meet.”

And then he was gone.

[keyofjetwolf]

Elisabeth: Hate

Poking around at this one is a bit off-script, and I hope @iatheia won’t mind too terribly much that I’m being self-indulgent by going here. I think the sequence for “Hate” though is intensely well done, historically honest, and tonally vital to Rudolf’s character as we enter what is, essentially, his arc in the musical. It’s entirely missing from the Takarazuka version, and I think there’s a conversation to be had in its exclusion, and what responsibilities lie in an adaptation grounded in history. But that’s a conversation not for this post, so for now I’ll simply say that while I understand the Takarazuka version shying away from going here, I think it’s the strongest single example of hollowing itself out. When I was liveblogging it, and so lacking any other version knowledge to compare it to, I found Rudolf a paper thin character whose motivations I could never really wrap myself around. Now, having added the Essen version to my experience, OF COURSE I didn’t get him, I was never given the chance.

Which isn’t to say, of course, that the Takarazuka brought us nothing.

BECAUSE OH DID IT FRIENDS

For Essen Rudolf, however, we’re shown what he sees coming, we know what he knows will happen if he does nothing, and we do it all with the perspective of knowing he was absolutely correct. His struggle and eventual suicide becomes so much more sympathetic AND infuriating, complicating our feelings toward him and making him so more complicated in the process.

So yeah, let’s take a second for a little hate, shall we?

I really love how this is staged, I have to say first up. The chorus emerges from the mist on Rudolf’s repeating echo of “HATE!” They quickly consume the stage, and yet Franz Joseph doesn’t notice them, doesn’t hear, never sees. And that’s incredibly intentional. He doesn’t hurry off stage as this portion begins, he lingers, thoughtful on Rudolf’s words, then walks away, taking the full length of the stage, walking with purpose but very calmly. This serves to contrast in a really fantastic way with Rudolf at the end of the song, so keep this in mind as I’ll touch back on it in a bit.

There is, I have no doubt, a metric fuckton of historical significance and nuance here that I’m not getting. WIKIPEDIA CAN ONLY FILL IN SO MANY GAPS. World War I is a spotty and sketchy thing for most Americans. It’s a complicated clusterfuck that’s not so easily put into “good guys” versus “bad guys”. IT’S A LOT EASIER TO KNOW YOU’RE THE GOOD GUYS WHEN YOU’RE SHOOTING NAZIS. (Though let’s stand in awe of how that’s becoming a more controversial statement every day.) (WOW I’M DEPRESSING MYSELF OKAY BACK TO THE MUSICAL)

My mother and her side are all English, so I’d heard stories about WWI in ways that it impacted my family. I did a bit of reading, because sometimes I like to know things. And I’ve tried to refresh myself and build more knowledge after having watched the Takarazuka, so I’d have more context. But still, I feel I know basically fuck all, so I’m pretty sure lots of details will fly over me. There’s a lot to get here though, even in the broad strokes.

The space left by Franz Joseph as he exits the stage is quickly filled with demonstrators calling for a stronger leader. I SEE YOU MUSICAL. It quickly gets worse.

Hate and violence to those who aren’t with us and those who spread here we will chase off!

NATIONALISM IS A HELL OF A DRUG KIDS. If you aren’t INSERT COUNTRY HERE, GTFO, and  then it gets better!

With socialists and pacifists we won’t waste time anymore!

The Jewish writers and the Jewish women will be our ruin!

If you aren’t the right KIND of countryman, a “real” citizen with the “correct” thoughts and values, we’re coming for you, too. And what’s that? Ahh, the delicate fragrance of rampant antisemitism wafting on the breeze! I’M SURE THAT WON’T HAVE ANY PLAY IN FUTURE EUROPE.

I do think it’s interesting though, in like a desperately efficient and terrifying way, how they very specifically drill down that antisemitism to Jewish writers (the spread of ideas) and Jewish women (the spread of people). It encapsulates the utter blinding hatred of Jews so well that I both admire the writing skill and feel sick at the same time. Kudos? I guess??

The demonstration continues. The hate builds. More and more people join on-stage. The lighting gradually increases, the chanting grows louder. No longer whispers in the shadow, but heart-felt declarations made public.

It’s legitimizing. It’s spreading.

Now not just “demonstrators”, but government leaders, reporters informing the public, educators teaching the next generation. So that’s awesome!

Someone wanders through all this and wonders what’s going on. Lucheni joins him and answers, and I’ve spent a bit of time on why Lucheni, and why now. To this point, he’s been lingering on the fringes. As our guide and narrator, he’s outside of time, with the unique perspective of how all the pieces fit together. I think he’s coming in now as a critic, with his usual mix of irreverent anger, to very directly condemn what we see building. Which may seem like a no-brainer, but I’ll point out again how fucking relevant every second of this is to the world right now on this beautiful day in May 2019.

ANYWHO, the passerby wonders what’s going on. “A demonstration, signore,” Lucheni explains. “Nationalists, antisemites, supporters of Schönerer.”

(“Who’s Schönerer?” I innocently asked Wikipedia. “HITLER’S INSPIRATION.” Wikipedia replies.  “oh.”)

“Outrageous!” the passerby says, visibly startled by this news.

“The 20th century. It’s approaching!” And with this, Lucheni walks off-stage, paying no mind as the passerby is viciously beaten with his own cane by the demonstrators.

Those demonstrators once again swarm the stage, spitting at the beaten passerby and reiterating their core mantra: “Hate and violence to those who aren’t like us! And those that spread here, we will chase off!” Question them? Express the slightest hint of disagreement? Hate and violence!

More chilling, the demonstrators are no longer just a gathering of individuals. They’re beginning to march in formation, literally falling in step together.

They’re organizing.

Lucheni takes center stage again, but this time it’s just him. The demonstrators are still present, their voices responding to him from the darkness, but otherwise, he stands alone.

AND BRINGS ELISABETH BACK INTO IT

Again, I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about why the show uses Lucheni here and now. Setting aside my massive ignorance YET AGAIN, I’m not finding anything that indicates Lucheni was particularly antisemitic (the “problem” with Heinrich Heine? I’LL GIVE YOU ONE GUESS.). Lucheni may well have been, but, you know, in a low-key chill sort of way. By which I mean, his deal seems to have been first and foremost about anarchy, not antisemitism or racism. So why have Lucheni be this voice? Why this protest?

And my thought is that we’re dipping for the moment into the “real” Lucheni, rather than the version who’s been taking us on this journey. Or, perhaps another way to look at it is that he represents the growing anti-imperial anarchist movement of the time. He/They may not have specifically been antisemitic, but they were more than happy to wield antisemitism as a tool for their own ends. Fan those flames, and give zero shits about who gets burned.

I think this may be the strongest indictment of Lucheni/anarchists in the musical. Throughout, I feel it mostly comes down on the side of ... if not sympathy, exactly, then of understanding. Elisabeth is complicated, and so, too, would be the feelings about her, particularly for the common people who, as a group, both adore her and suffer at her whims. But Lucheni taking voice here, whatever his motivation, is siding with and inciting those who embody hate and violence, who we know will perpetrate unthinkable atrocities in that name of that hate. The musical doesn’t turn away from the culpability that Lucheni, and those like him, have in not just allowing this but enabling it, ENCOURAGING it.

His piece said, Lucheni runs off-stage, back into the shadows as the demonstration reaches fever pitch.

They march toward the front of the stage, furious but orderly, chaos but contained. The chanting continues, but the marching changes. It becomes a goose-step. There are elaborate hand gestures, and still they all move as one. Finally, it concludes as it must.

The lights slam up, then drop, leaving only one figure on stage.

Rudolf, alone. Not walking past all this like his father, but staring at it directly, unable to look away.

This is what Rudolf sees in their future. Not just the fall of the Hapsburgs, but house after house throughout Europe, the suffering of people in the wake of those conflicts and power vacuums, setting the world stage for even more horrors to come. He KNOWS it’s coming, he can hear it, and the burden of what to do about it falls squarely on his shoulders.

“Hate” is so crucial, I feel, to understanding Rudolf’s thoughts and actions to come in the musical. Without knowing what he sees (things which we know to be true), his motivations against his father make no sense, his longing for some kind of understanding and comfort from his mother make him seem emotionally undeveloped, his desperation lacks weight, and his suicide is reduced to a plot point for Elisabeth rather than the final surrender of hope that we could avoid the inevitable.

And it’s so well done! Really, the way the whole sequence just builds and builds, before abruptly cutting off at this evocative moment, leaving Rudolf its only witness. Just fantastic, I loved it.

IT TOOK ME LIKE A MONTH TO GET MY THOUGHTS TOGETHER TO WRITE THIS POST. One that wasn’t even requested, but again, I hope no one minds too terribly much that I took us down this detour. For as much as I carried on about it, it’s just under two minutes, and if you have those two minutes to spare, I would encourage you to put them here.