#though i have no intention of disregard. in fact i am honored

[leiawritesstories]

To Honor And Cherish

Rowaelin Month, Day 25: Arranged Marriage

A/N: Hi everyone! If you remember As I Am, it was a Regency AU crossover fic that I started when i was still very much a baby writer. Lol I'm still a developing writer, who are we kidding? Anyway, that fic has a very special place in my heart, but it was...just too much, too complex to properly handle. So.......I did a little mini rewrite with just Rowaelin! because I loved their story and it was an excuse to rewatch Bridgerton S1 😂

All that to say, here's a little mini Rowaelin rewrite of AIA, and i hope you enjoy :))

Word count: 4,670 (oops)

Warnings: none ;)

@rowaelinscourt

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

Numb, Aelin stared out the carriage window, firmly refusing to look across the small but opulent vehicle and meet the gazes of her parents--her mother, teary-eyed with wistful pleasure; her father, proud of his accomplishment in achieving the best marriage match of the Season. The lace trim along the neckline of her simple, pale blue morning gown itched at her collarbone, and she focused on the slight discomfort, using it to control her roiling emotions. Before she was fully calm, though, the carriage rattled to a stop, and she realized with a small jolt that they had arrived.

"Aelin, darling." Baroness Evalin Ashryver reached across the carriage and touched her daughter's gloved hand. "Shall we?"

"Haste to the wedding, as it were," Aelin returned, dryly.

Evalin frowned. "It is as if I taught you nothing of decorum." She took her husband's arm and stepped elegantly out of the carriage. "We have but three hours, darling."

"I am highly aware of that fact, m'lady," Aelin muttered under her breath, accepting the footman's assistance as she exited the carriage. As she followed her parents into the west entrance of St. Paul's Cathedral, she spared one final glance at her family's carriage, knowing that it may well be the last time she rode in it.

Baron Rhoe Galathynius allowed his wife to lead the way towards the bridal rooms and fell into step beside his daughter. "The Duke is a good man, Fireheart," he murmured. "I promise, I have never been careless with your future."

A small corner of Aelin's heart softened. "I trust you, Father." She tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. "I simply feel...well, to be perfectly honest, I feel disregarded by this whole process. I know the conventions of our society, but I thought we were going to be more of a partnership when it came to my marriage." She couldn't help the hint of reproach that crept into her words.

"That was my intention, too," Rhoe admitted. "However, your mother is...a very determined woman, and when she came to me with her shortlist of suitors, it was not in my best interest to reject it outright."

"I see."

"I did my best to investigate each of the men on that list," Rhoe continued. "As I said, I have never been careless with your future, my Fireheart."

Aelin sighed delicately and flicked a grateful look up at her father. "I know." Her posture stiffened, just a fraction, as they approached the door to the bride's preparation rooms. "I quite liked Dorian, you know."

Rhoe's lips twitched with amusement. "I doubt he would have made much as a husband, though."

That brought a hint of a chuckle from Aelin's throat. "I never said I was considering him as a husband, though he certainly did make a clever suggestion: a nominal marriage, in which we were perfectly happy together with our own, ah, partners."

"Ah, Havilliard," Rhoe chuckled. "Dare I say he may not have made the most ideal husband? He'll certainly be a fine honorary uncle, though, I'm sure."

"He will." Aelin squeezed her father's hand. "Oh gods, the door approaches."

"It will be alright," her father assured her. "And if it is not, write to me and I will take care of it." The steel in his eyes drove home his promise.

"I love you, Father," Aelin whispered, rising onto her toes to peck a soft kiss onto his cheek.

Rhoe smiled. "I love you too, my Fireheart." He held the bride's door open. "I'll see you in a few hours."

Aelin took a controlled breath and walked through the door. The instant the thick oak door clicked shut behind her, Evalin was leading her off down the short hallway into a lovely, sunlit room, where a flurry of attendants swarmed around the women already gathered there, busy curling and arranging hair, applying cosmetics, steaming and fluffing dresses, and assuring every lady present that it was going to be a perfectly lovely wedding day.

"I feel as though I may vomit," Aelin murmured.

Evalin waved at one of the maids. "Please bring a basin; the bride has nerves." She patted Aelin's shoulder with a brief, perfunctory attempt at comfort. "It is perfectly normal to feel anxious before your wedding, darling. I could hardly stop trembling on the morning that I married your father."

Aelin cracked a faint smile. "Why, Mother, I thought you were always the very picture of composure."

"Hardly." For a moment, Evalin's rarely-seen softer side made an appearance. "I believe I'd only met Rhoe three or four times before we were married, and we were little more then formal acquaintances when our parents signed the betrothal agreement."

"That's three or four times more than I've met the Duke," Aelin mused.

"I trust your father's judgment." Evalin's tone was noticeably cooler. "You will make a fine Duchess, darling."

Aelin didn't reply, choosing to focus on the sudden flurry of attendants encircling her, helping her out of her dress and into simple undergarments and a white satin dressing gown. She let them lead her to a chair, sat down, and watched in the mirror as her lady's maid twisted her hair into an elegant knot.

"No, no!" Evalin snapped at the maid. "She is a bride! She must wear her hair up higher for the veil!"

"Leave it, Philippa." Aelin held up her hand. Evalin frowned in disapproval, opening her mouth to overrule Aelin's wishes, but Aelin calmly folded her hands in her lap and fixed her gaze onto her mother's in the mirror. "I am the bride, Mother, not you." Steel and flame underlaid her words, a subtle but strong note of command.

Disapproval and shock bloomed over Evalin's feature, but she said nothing.

"Very well, milady," Philippa said quietly. The young, dark-haired lady's maid--only a few years older than Aelin was--tucked the last two pins into Aelin's hair and flicked her mistress a tiny but immensely proud smile. "What do you think?"

"It is perfect." Aelin gave her lady's maid and longtime companion a grateful smile. "Mother, would you please oversee my cosmetics? You know how little experience I have with all of that."

Placated, Evalin directed Philippa to apply simple makeup to Aelin's face, enhancing her clear skin and soft lips and concealing the faint shadows beneath her eyes. Though she was only twenty-one, Aelin had long since struggled with poor sleep, and it manifested in the circles smudged under her eyes.

"There," Evalin announced. "Lovely." She touched Aelin's shoulder. "Has your stomach settled, darling? It is time for the dress."

"My stomach will survive," Aelin returned. She stood and followed her mother into the next room, where she removed her dressing gown and allowed Philippa and two other attendants to busy themselves with arranging her undergarments.

"Deep breath, milady," Philippa prompted. Obediently, Aelin inhaled deeply and held the breath, keeping her face carefully blank as Philippa tugged with practiced ease on the laces of Aelin's corset. "Very good, milady, just another few seconds." With a final sharp tug, she tied the laces into a neat bow. "Exhale, milady."

Aelin released her breath with careful control. The corset was as restricting and uncomfortable as always, cinched tightly around her waist and stomach, drawing her already-ladylike figure into a conventional image of a lady with an impossibly small waistline. "Well, I would prefer to breathe properly, but thank you, Philippa."

Philippa dipped her head. "All things for the beauty of the bride." She helped Aelin step up onto the small, round, raised platform in the middle of the dressing room. "Up you go, milady." She and two other attendants helped Aelin step into her wedding gown--a beautifully tailored spill of white silk that molded closely against her bodice and fell into a cascading, lace-paneled skirt with a cathedral train. Soft cap sleeves laid over her shoulders, paired with matching white silk gloves.

"Oh, my daughter," Evalin whispered, tears misting up her eyes. "You are the perfect portrait of a bride."

"Stunning, milady," Philippa murmured into Aelin's ear as she adjusted Aelin's skirts.

Aelin simply stared at her reflection in the full-length mirror, wondering where she had gone and when this porcelain-faced doll had replaced her. She felt oddly separated from her emotions, as if she had somehow stepped out of her own body and was watching it go through the motions of being a bride.

With light-handed gracefulness, Philippa tucked the two silver combs of the lace veil into Aelin's hair and gently tossed the airy spill of hand-wrought lace, allowing the two layers of material to drift naturally down Aelin's back. "Look at you," she whispered.

Aelin looked. "You truly work wonders," she said softly, the corners of her lips curling up.

Philippa smiled. "Hardly. Let's get you to the wedding, milady."

~

In a rushed blur, Aelin was helped into her shoes, handed a huge, almost cloyingly sweet bouquet of roses and lilies, and led down a series of winding hallways until she stood before the great wooden doors to the cathedral nave where her father was waiting.

"A vision," he murmured, pride and joy shining on his face.

Aelin managed a faint smile. "A nervous vision."

Rhoe chuckled quietly. "Not to increase your nerves, Fireheart, but everyone is ready. They are all waiting for you." He tucked her hand snugly into the crook of his elbow. "Shall we?"

A strange sense of calm descended over Aelin, and she felt her resolve return, turning her spine into composed steel. "We shall." She nodded to Philippa, who stepped forward and draped the upper layer of her veil over her face, arranging the lace so Aelin could still see. "I am ready."

With a great groaning creak and a thunderous swelling of organ music, the cathedral doors were swung open, revealing Aelin and Rhoe to an eager audience of hundreds of society's finest. Rhoe walked Aelin slowly down the aisle, his steady presence at her side keeping her sane, keeping her on her feet.

Halfway down the aisle, Aelin could finally clearly see the man standing at the altar, waiting for her. The Duke of Doranelle. Her soon-to-be husband. He was tall--taller than her father--and broad-shouldered, his perfectly tailored black suit clinging to the kind of well-muscled physique that made her think he'd served in the army. His hair was tied back in a short tail and powdered white, as was traditional, his face had the kind of elegantly structured planes and angles that would make a sculptor cry with joy, and his eyes--pine-green and piercing--were honed in on her.

He looked about as tenderhearted as a block of ice.

Refusing to be the timid, demure bride this duke no doubt expected her to be, Aelin locked her gaze onto the duke's and kept it there for the remainder of her procession down the aisle.

Rhoe stopped at the base of the four steps leading up to the altar, just in front of the waiting duke and the bishop. The bishop, in full clerical finery, opened the book in his hands and offered a polite smile.

"Dearly beloved," he began, "we are gathered here today to witness the divine institution of holy matrimony." He spoke on for another minute, then turned to Rhoe and Aelin. "Who gives this woman to be married to this man?

"I do." Rhoe spoke with conviction. He took Aelin's hand from his arm and, at the nod of the bishop, laid her gloved hand in the duke's outstretched, gloved one.

The duke's large hand closed around Aelin's, and she felt the oddest sensation flicker at the base of her spine. She cast a cool, appraising look at the duke through the lace of her veil, a spark of satisfaction flaring within her at his tiny, well-concealed inhale, and returned her attention to the bishop.

The wedding ceremony droned on and on, and Aelin let the words spill over her, not paying too much attention to anything except the way her corset dug into her ribs and the too-strong scent of the massive bouquet of flowers in her free hand. She snapped back into focus when the bishop directed her and the duke to turn towards each other for the exchange of vows.

Facing her, his deep pine gaze locked onto her turquoise one, the duke spoke first, repeating the bishop's prompted words. "I, Rowan Whitethorn, take thee, Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, to be my lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or worse, in sickness and health. I vow to thee to honor and cherish till death do us part. In the presence of God and man I make these vows."

The bishop nodded slightly at Aelin and murmured the words. She spoke, her voice clear and unwavering. "I, Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, take thee, Rowan Whitethorn, to be my lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or worse, in sickness and in health. I vow to thee to honor and cherish till death do us part. In the presence of God and man I make these vows."

She could almost sense the finality of the words.

The bishop motioned at one of the groomsmen, who stepped forward with a small white pillow upon which laid two gold bands. One was thicker and wider, a man's ring. The other was more delicate, crowned with a square-cut emerald. The bishop spoke words over the rings and then directed the duke--Rowan--to place the ring on Aelin's finger.

With surprising gentleness, Rowan lifted Aelin's left hand and slipped the silk glove off of her arm. Cradling her smaller hand in his large one, he looked into her eyes as if trying to read her soul and slid the ring onto her finger, the coolness of the gold quickly warming to her skin.

At the bishop's prompting, Aelin unbuttoned Rowan's glove and slipped the white cotton material off of his hand. With her still-gloved hand beneath his now-bare one, she returned his searching, probing look and slid the ring onto his callused, tan finger.

The bishop flipped a page in his book. "I hereby pronounce thee man and wife," he proclaimed. Applause rippled through the cathedral in waves, the assembled congregation clapping politely for the newly married Duke and Duchess of Doranelle. The bishop waited for the applause to quiet down, and then spoke the last few words of the ceremony. "You may kiss the bride," he concluded.

Rowan reached down and lifted the veil off Aelin's face. With the lace no longer between them, his keen gaze roved rapidly over her face as he tilted his head down and touched his lips to hers. It was barely a whisper of a kiss, more ceremonial than anything, but in those few seconds of contact, Aelin had the oddest sense that she wanted to know what a real kiss from that man felt like.

~

As the organ burst into joyous swells of music, Aelin laid her newly ringed hand upon Rowan's offered arm and walked beside him down the aisle and out of the cathedral. Sunlight beamed down upon the newlywed couple, and she blinked at the brightness of its glare.

There was a gentle tug on her hand. "Here," Rowan prompted, leading her down the cathedral stairs towards a waiting carriage. It was simple on the exterior, its boxy frame glossy, the doors engraved with the crest of Doranelle. A footman opened the door and placed a stepstool on the ground, and Rowan steadied Aelin as she gathered her trailing skirts over one arm and stepped up into the carriage. Inside, it was paneled in deep green silk, the seats well-cushioned and comfortable.

She sank into one seat with a suppressed groan of relief. Rowan settled into the seat opposite hers, his brows quirking with something that might resemble amusement if he possessed human emotions.

"What?" she inquired, deceptively polite. "Have you never thought that perhaps a woman grows exhausted after spending hours standing in uncomfortable shoes that pinch her toes and shift all her weight to paper-thin soles and tiny little sticks of heels?"

Rowan opened and closed his mouth several times, struggling for words. "I confess I had never thought about that, no."

"Typical." Aelin adjusted her skirts, lifted her veil over her shoulder so as not to sit on it, and fixed her attention on the city slipping past outside the window.

Across from her, Rowan shifted in his seat. Clearly, he had not anticipated that she would ignore him--typical male arrogance. It was only a few minutes before he spoke. "Aelin."

Though the sound of her name on his tongue did funny things to her heartbeat, she ignored him.

"Aelin," he tried again. She still paid him no heed.

So he turned his head towards the opposite window and set his jaw in a hard line. They passed the remainder of the carriage ride in tense silence, only exchanging looks and a perfunctory touch when they arrived at the Galathynius home in the city for the reception and Rowan escorted her out of the carriage and into the house.

~

The whole thing flew past in a blur of greetings, pleasantries, gifts, a delicious dinner that Aelin barely tasted because her corset made it nearly impossible to properly eat, toasts, dancing, and finally, being swept off to change into travelling clothes. She blew out a short breath of relief as Philippa helped her out of her wedding dress.

Her lady's maid laughed. "Better?"

"So much better," Aelin groaned. "Do you know how awful it is to walk around with ten yards of silk following you like a stray cat?"

"Sounds horrendous," Philippa agreed. She buttoned up the back of Aelin's simple satin travel dress and laid her lightweight cloak around her shoulders. "Enjoy your journey, milady. I will see you once you reach Doranelle."

"You are the best." Aelin squeezed Philippa's hands affectionately. "I left a little something for you in my dressing-table." Tucked into the drawer was an envelope containing a small sum of money for her ever-faithful lady's maid. "I look forward to seeing you at our new home." She smiled and went down the stairs.

Rowan waited at the base of the staircase, the lines of his face etched in granite. He had changed from his formal black wedding suit into brown trousers, vest, and jacket and a white linen shirt and washed the powder from his hair. She was mildly surprised to see that beneath the powder, his hair was light brown and slightly curled at the ends.

Evalin enveloped Aelin in her embrace. "You will make a wonderful Duchess," she murmured. "I look forward to visiting you once you've settled in." Aelin smiled and turned to her father.

Rhoe wrapped his daughter in his arms. "I'm so very proud of you, my Fireheart," he whispered. "Write me if you need anything. I'll keep your mother from invading, as much as I can."

Aelin chuckled. "Thank you, Father."

Rhoe grinned at her and turned his attention to his new son-in-law. "I will not hesitate to do anything my daughter asks of me," he said, his words edged with paternal warning. "Take care of my Fireheart, Your Grace."

"I will, sir." Rowan linked Aelin's arm with his. "Are you ready?"

"I am." With a final wave to her family, she and the duke left her family home, climbed into his carriage, and began the silent drive towards his estate in the country.

~

As evening deepened into night, Rowan glanced at his watch. "We should be stopping for the night in half an hour or so."

Aelin raised her brows. "At an inn?"

"No. At Mistward House." He offered no further explanation.

"Forgive me for not memorizing the details of each of your holdings before the wedding, Your Grace," she deadpanned.

His controlled expression did not even budge. "Mistward House was my mother's dowry property. Doranelle itself is another half day's journey from here."

"I see."

Shortly later, their carriage pulled to a stop in front of a brownstone manor house with ivy trailing up parts of the walls and warm golden lamplight shining from a few of the windows. It would have been wonderfully welcoming under any other circumstances, but all Aelin could think of was the very real possibility of what might happen inside that house in not very much time.

Rowan climbed out of the carriage and held out his hand, and she accepted it as she stepped down from the carriage. He escorted her inside and made a brief greeting to the few staff who were there.

"Everything is ready just as you requested, Your Grace," the middle-aged lady who must have been the housekeeper said. "It it so good to see you here again, even if only for the night."

"Thank you, Mrs. Ellys," Rowan returned, a hint of warmth in his tone. "We shall see if we visit Mistward later in the summer." He turned back to Aelin. "This way."

She followed him down the hallways, memorizing the simple path back to the front entrance as they walked. He stopped in front of a dark wooden door, paused for a few seconds, then pushed the door open and led her into a warm, softly-lit bedroom with wood-paneled walls, a large, soft-looking bed, and a small fire crackling behind the fireplace grate. In any other context, it would have looked positively homelike and comforting.

Rowan closed the door with a muted click, and Aelin suddenly realized that despite what she'd wondered, there would be no separate bedrooms, not that night.

"There is a washroom through that door," he said, pointing towards a door near the back of the room.

She nodded, took her small bag of nightclothes, and headed straight into the washroom. The door had a lock, so she locked herself in the small but sparkling clean room, braced her hands on the edge of the sink, and breathed as deeply as she could while still confined by that godsdamn corset. With almost robotic movements, she took off her cloak, dress, shoes, stockings, and undergarments, untied the laces of her corset, and carefully, painstakingly loosened the damned contraption until her lungs were free and she could throw it to the ground.

As always, the corset's boned structure had left red imprints along her sides. She frowned, chose to ignore the marks, and pulled her soft cotton nightgown over her head, letting the comfortable material settle against her skin.

After washing her face, Aelin pulled the pins from her hair and left them beside the sink. If the stone-faced duke took issue with her leaving her hairpins in the washroom, he could stuff the pins up his ass. She ran a comb through her hair, tied it back in a loose braid, and left the washroom, resolved to continue ignoring her husband for as long as possible.

Her husband, in return, barely spared her a second glance as he went into the washroom, dressed in his own nightclothes. He was in there for a short time, the splashing of water indicating that he was washing up like she had. She took the opportunity to drape her dress and cloak over the dressing screen in the corner of the room and take a slow walk around the bedroom, half expecting there to be some kind of secret entrance.

She had already climbed into the (very comfortable) bed when Rowan emerged from the washroom and methodically blew out each of the lamps in the room before climbing into the other side of the bed, his back turned to her.

Perfect. The less contact she had with the man, the better.

~

Aelin awoke in the middle of the night with Rowan's arm draped over her waist, his hand skimming her hipbones through the fine material of her nightgown.

Blindly, half-panicked, she jerked sharply away from him and his touch, pulled the sheet over herself, shut her eyes tight and mentally screamed at herself to breathe, gods damn it! She managed a short breath, and then another, and a deep breath, and another, and another.

As her head cleared, she opened her eyes, finding her husband awake, sitting upright a full arm's length away, his unfaltering eyes latched onto her. Concern and fear were written written all over his face.

"Aelin?" he whispered.

"I'm here," she croaked.

Worry and rage clashed in the depths of his gaze. "Who hurt you?" he breathed, primal violence simmering just beneath the controlled softness of his voice.

"Why do you care?" she whispered, defensive.

He closed his eyes and tipped his head back, and when he met her gaze again, muted pain joined the storm of emotions roiling in the depths of his stare. "Because my bastard of a father hurt my mother, and I swore an oath to never be anything like him."

It was the most human she'd ever seen the duke be in their few hours of knowing each other.

A tiny corner of her heart softened at the rawness of his words. "It was...an associate of my father."

Rowan pushed the sleeves of his nightshirt up, exposing his forearms. "Will you tell me who, Aelin?" He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I do not mean to pry, but I...if the man is still alive, I will end him."

"He is long since dead, and he was Lord Hamel," she said, simply.

"Arobynn Hamel?"

"Yes."

He exhaled slowly. "Hamel was one hell of a bastard," he whispered, roughly.

She just nodded. "I've always wondered if it makes me a horrible person for being happy that he's dead."

"It doesn't." The swiftness of Rowan's reply shocked both of them. He sighed. "It does not make you anything but justified, Aelin."

There was that infernal flutter in her guarded heart. "I might just have to admit that you're human after all."

A half grin curved his lips. "How might I prove my full humanity to you, Your Grace?" Gods burn her, the man had a sense of humor.

She shrugged indifferently, tamping down the part of herself that wanted to squeal like a little girl. "You could start with letting me get a full night's sleep." Maybe it was the late hour, maybe it was the fact that she was overwhelmed from the events of the last day, or maybe it was sheer insanity, but then she let a smirk curve her own lips. "Or, if you intend not to sleep, you could give your wife a kiss."

Rowan inhaled sharply, his nostrils flaring with surprise. "Say that again."

"I was under the impression that you weren't the command-giving type." The snarky retort tumbled unbidden from her lips.

In a single, smooth move, he was inches away from her face, his arms braced on either side of her--enough space that she didn't feel trapped, but close enough to feel the heat of him. "And I was under the impression that you wanted a kiss, Your Grace."

A lazy grin unfurled across Aelin's face. "Kindly give your wife a kiss, Your Grace."

"Never stop calling yourself my wife," he murmured, and he kissed her. At first, it was a soft brush of his lips, then he sank one hand into her hair and deepened the kiss, slow and leisurely and unhurried.

After a long, blissful moment, she broke the kiss, leaning slightly back to catch her breath, and a huge yawn split the air between them. She laughed, softly. "Good night, Rowan."

"Good night, Aelin," he murmured. She settled back down into bed, and he tucked the covers up over her. His arm lingered around her shoulders, hesitant, hopeful. "Is this alright?"

The warmth of him was still strange, but comforting. "Yes."

She fell asleep with her duke's arm around her and the warmth of his body behind her, solid and steady and protective, nothing at all like the ice-faced man who had sworn vows to her just that morning.

~~

will there be more? who knows... ;)

~~~

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[toast-tales]

Cursed Cravings Chapter 16: Your Humble Servant

In which we discover the nature of the relationship between Cyrus Livingston and Christopher Penn. Contains: 1.8k words | Chapter 1 | Read this story on A03!

Eight Years Earlier

“This letter was addressed to you, Mr. Livingston,” the woman said, handing Cyrus a neatly folded note sealed with wax. He didn’t recognize the seal itself—a peacock surrounded by laurels. “I believe you should take it.” 

He took the note, looking at it with indifference. “From the same Mr. Penn, I presume?”

The woman nodded, though her face seemed somewhat unsure. 

Cyrus waved the woman away, having already settled the matter of the woman’s transaction. It was strange—just a few months ago, a different man had received the same handsome sum from the same Christopher Penn. And months before, there had been a similar transaction—each time, with a different recipient. In total, there had been nearly ten letters in the last few years, all from this mysterious Mr. Penn, all imparting a rather hefty sum to a string of seemingly unconnected people.

But the strangest part was—whenever he asked these recipients of their relation to Christopher Penn, none of them could seem to remember their mysterious benefactor. It seemed as though they'd never even met the man, or even knew precisely why they were being given the money.

The papers were in order—the Penn estate held incredible wealth, enough that each transaction was a mere drop in the ocean of it, so to speak. 

The wealth was so vast, in fact, that neither the recipient or the benefactor would notice if a fraction of it went missing, here and there. It wasn’t hard to change a few numbers in the ledgers, and Cyrus felt rather certain that there was no possibility at all of being caught. No one else had the access he did—no one was able to see him while he adjusted the books. 

This assurance made him rather confident—so confident, in fact, that he almost disregarded the note from Mr. Penn entirely. He opened it later that night when he had retired to his bedroom.

To the Honorable Mr. Livingston,

It is my honor to acquaint myself by way of this letter to you, the gentleman who has handled the transactions to my benefactors for the past several years. 

How it shocked me to learn that you were the same gentleman that has been taking that which is not yours and depriving my benefactors of the full amount that is owed to them.

You may believe that there is no one able to witness your transgressions, but let me assure you that I have both the means and intent to verify each transaction that passes through your upstanding hands. I have records of each infraction, including many unrelated to me that involve the financial transactions for official city business.

However, honorable sir, I am first and foremost a generous man, and am willing to forgive these errors—which may be nothing more than clerical errors, and surely not executed with malicious and intentional effort—if the full amount missing from each of my benefactors is returned to them within the next thirty days, and no such errors occur again for me or anyone else that entrusts you with their financial transactions. 

There is no need to send records of these amendments—be assured I have my own means of verifying that this letter is received and your errors are made right. If my terms are not met, I will bring the evidence I have to light, and though I am sure you are a much-respected man in town, I know very well that the mayor is a much less forgiving man than I. 

I will be watching.

Your obedient and humble servant,

Christopher Penn

Cyrus’s hands were trembling by the time he reached the end of the letter, his eyes burning a hole into the name scrawled across the bottom in an elegant hand. Christopher Penn. 

He felt his stomach churning with unease all of a sudden, rereading each line with disbelief. How did this man know? 

It was a bluff—surely it had to be. There was no possible way for anyone to see the tampered records but him—he had wormed his way into a position with little oversight, and charmed enough trust from the higher-ups of the city that he had been free to carry on with “borrowing” a little money here and there quite easily. 

And who was this Christopher Penn, anyways? Cyrus had certainly never heard of him. For a man with so much wealth, he was hardly the talk of the town. Did he even live in the city? 

“Hmph,” Cyrus huffed, tossing the letter aside on his desk. “You have no evidence. I’m not falling for that, Mr. Penn.” 

The letter became forgotten, and Cyrus continued on with his life as if he’d never received it at all. He still felt rather secure, knowing that the records that were maintained would still look favorably for him, if anyone were to inspect them. Christopher Penn couldn’t have evidence against him, because there was no evidence to be had—not unless this man had a way to literally watch his every move, and somehow view the records before he destroyed them entirely. 

Still, he remained vigilant, keeping an eye out for anyone who might have been tailing him, and waiting until he was absolutely sure he was alone to “amend” the financial records. 

He did not make an effort to repay this man’s “benefactors,” and though he lessened the frequency of his “corrections” to the bank’s financial records, he also didn’t feel the need to stop them entirely. 

A month came and went, and though he admittedly felt especially anxious for a few days following the deadline, nothing out of the ordinary happened. His confidence returned—sure now that it was just bluster and nothing of concern. 

The next strange transaction from Mr. Penn to a different person came a few months later, once again accompanied by a sealed note addressed to Cyrus.

To the Upstanding Mr. Livingston,

I am writing to express my profound disappointment that you have disregarded my previous correspondence. Instead, you have continued to acquire your ill-gotten gains from both myself and many others through the tampering and mishandling of records, accompanied by the false belief that you are above the law, and able to engage in such clandestine and fraudulent actions without consequence. 

I warned that I am witness to each transgression, Mr. Livingston, though it has occurred to me you may not believe my claim. It has also come to my attention that you may, due to a mind more inclined towards thievery and vulgarity than sense, not be aware of the amounts that are due to be paid, and I sincerely apologize for such a critical oversight on my part. I have enclosed with this letter a full record of each payment I expect to be made by you to each beneficiary. 

You will also find a list of many of the other financial errors I have been witness to, so that you may have faith that I am a man of my word, and have the evidence I claim to possess. And if you are feeling especially charitable, Mr. Livingston, perhaps you may use this list as a guide for atonement towards your crimes, though repayment of those amounts is not part of my terms. 

This is the final letter of warning I will send. Any further correspondence from me will be sent to the parties you have wronged, and include in full detail the nature of each of your crimes. I trust that, if not a charitable or righteous man, you are a man of practicality, and understand what may happen to you if such information was to be public knowledge. Your reputation in the city will be far from the only thing you stand to lose.

You have two weeks to rectify your mistakes. 

Ever your vigilant and humble servant,

C. Penn

“Fuck,” Cyrus muttered aloud, feeling his jaw twitch as he scoured each line Christopher had meticulously recorded. It was all there. Every single transaction was included in painstaking detail—even ones he’d forgotten about completely by now, going back as far as two years. All beginning from the very first large sum Christopher had paid to some worthless peasant.

His chest felt as though it was likely to explode with how quickly his heart began to race. 

There’s no way. How the fuck does he know about all of this?

He could no longer dismiss Christopher’s claims as a simple bluff. Cyrus had a lot of faith in his position and standing in town—but not enough to think he could stand against these records and come out the other side an innocent man. 

For the next two weeks, he scrambled to come up with the missing funds for Christopher, delivering them personally to each benefactor with the excuse of a clerical error from the bank and a sincere apology, though each apology was said through gritted teeth as his hatred for this Mr. Penn only grew. 

Once the debts were repaid, he never received another letter from Christopher Penn again.

But he was not content to simply let the issue pass.

How dare this man interfere in his business, threaten him, insult him, and hold those records above his head just to make a fool of him? He wouldn’t stand to allow himself to be beholden to the whims of this stranger. 

If Christopher had the evidence to destroy him, then clearly, he needed to destroy Christopher first.

He spent weeks—months trying to learn as much as he could about the mysterious Mr. Penn. He went back to each of the man’s benefactors, hoping they could provide more information about Christopher. But, inexplicably, none of them could seem to remember even meeting Christopher. None of them seemed to recall exactly why they had received money from the man, either. 

It boggled Cyrus’s mind. He looked further into the man, finding old records with an address and even some private invitations to his residence. He couldn’t implicate himself—he sent others to the address out of town. But every time, the people he sent came back with the same sentiment:

They hadn’t met a Christopher Penn, nor had they found a home at that address. They seemed confused when he demanded further answers, as if they were all afflicted with some sort of brain fog. They all insisted it wasn’t worth his time—that Christopher Penn might not even exist. 

He found more records—of the Penn family, of the accident that had befallen the parents of Christopher Penn, and the young heir’s steady rise in the graces of the upper class afterwards. The man hosted galas, parties, socials, and had at one point been the talk of the town.

And then, for whatever reason, he was never heard from again, and no one could seem to remember him.

It drove Cyrus mad—he could find no answers, even though he continued to distribute large sums of money from Christopher Penn’s estate to increasingly random people, from peasants to people of higher class. None of these people knew Christopher, remembered him, or were able to tell Cyrus anything. 

His paranoia pushed him to continue to build his reputation among the town’s upper crusts, doing whatever he could to solidify his reputation in fear of everything crumbling down around him. He lived for the next decade with the proverbial sword of Damocles hanging above his head, unable to track the source of his blackmailer. 

Until a peasant farmer named Nathan Hayes informed him that although he didn’t know Christopher Penn, his friend Danny was staying with him, and would be back at the end of the month. 

It was a breakthrough—someone who could tell him where to find the man who had somehow eluded him for nearly ten years.

There was no way he was going to let this opportunity pass him up.

After all this time, he was finally going to put an end to this.

* * * * * * * * * *

Next chapter ->

Now, what exactly is Cyrus planning on doing?

There may be a little bit more time until the next chapter - or not, we'll see, I have a habit of lying about that - while I get the pieces put together and also take care of some stuff IRL. But don't worry - we are approaching the end of the story, and we will see it through.

Until then, thank you all for reading!

[gabnonymous]

where have i been?

man... where do i even start?

i thought i'd make this post for the few people who've been wondering as to what i've been doing this past month. i've also been wanting to post on here for a while now.

nonstop studying

it shouldn't come as a surprise for some to know that i take my studies, somewhat seriously, though if i had the choice to pursue my studies or make videos, i'd probably take the latter just because its so much easier for me to do. i kmow studying is better for me in "the long run", but at this point it's been draining too much of my self-esteem... who thought it'd be a great idea to throw 10th grade math problems towards an art student who hasn't touched math in a year?

but no. i've been studying nonstop to take multiple college entrance exams throughout this year. the cool thing about being an asian is that you're required to go to college, or you'll starve on the streets... at least that's what my family's been telling me everytime they see my failing scores in my diagnostic exams... completely disregarding the fact i got an award for being an honor student a week prior.

after taking my first college entrance exam, paired with the fact i haven't gotten proper sleep in a while... my eye started twitching. i might be making it a much bigger deal than it is, especially now that it's stopped twitching for a while now... it still bugs me. doesn't help knowing i've had consistent headaches every time i wake up since then.

don't get me wrong, i'm grateful to have the resources i have for me to have a "good studying environment"... but man, i really wish i could do things differently, because who would've guessed that online classes don't help me in the slightest, and i can't even go against taking those classes because my family paid a shit ton of money for the course. it just feels like i have to take these classes instead of actually gaining something.

dwindling social life

i haven't opened up about this before, since it's still a relatively touchy subject, but i know that if i continue to keep it to myself for long, things aren't gonna get better either way.

following an inner conflict i had with a now-ex close friend after telling an inappropriate joke, followed by a brief emotional meltdown, i decided to voluntarily leave my friend group with the intention to try and grow as a person, alone.

and although i've apologised to everyone, and it's been a month since it happened, i still don't feel even remotely close to feeling comfortable being around the friend group anymore. ever since the incident, i've willingly isolated myself socially from anyone, trying my best to keep to myself and only ever interacting with people when they approach me, which sounds reasonable, but that also means having to spend long periods of time, with my own thoughts, inside of a classroom with people you feel scared to even look at.

i've been through therapy multiple times in my life, and have heard the same kind of advice time and time again from many people, and i have yet to see any significant progress towards my mental wellbeing for near close to a year now at this point. i know these kinds of situations require time... but there just comes a point where you start to wonder when that "time" will come.

i've tried virtually everything i could think of to try and combat my thoughts, with no improvement. it's come to a point where i've been intenting to see a psychologist just to try and get a concrete reason as to why i've been acting this way for this long... am i extremely anxious? am i depressed? or am i just a shitty person to be with?

sadly, if i do see a psychologist, it won't be till next year. so, i'll have to live with these thoughts through the following months.

life

who would've thought that my voice actors also go to school? that was sarcasm, by the way, i think it was pretty obvious.

i'm currently waiting for some of my voice actors to finish up their lines for an upcoming short. i was planning to have said short to be the first video to be uploaded onto the channel after a while... but by the looks of it, it might be the 2nd as i'm closing in on a gaming video i've recently finished recording for.

it sucks, but some things are simply out of my control. i don't like pressuring people to do what i want, so all i can really do, is wait. i just hope people do the same, even though it's been a while now.

conclusion (tldr, sort of)

i'm really sad and busy. school's been kicking my ass twice and i'm working on 3 videos at the same time.

am i happy? probably, i dunno. being stressed beats doing nothing, so, eh.

stay safe, yall.

[whosscruffylooking]

The Purest Things- Repeating History

Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Brief mentions of murder and alcohol. Canon typical violence.

A/N: this takes place during season 3 episode 11, birthright. i had a lot of fun studying this episode and making it my own. i have changed certain dialogue and who says what for the sake of the story. please enjoy!

The Purest Things Masterlist

(my gif! please credit if you use.)

january 2008

Syd Moore said, “Disregard for the past will never do us any good. Without it we cannot know truly who we are.”

+++++

Your alarm is often hushed before it even has an opportunity to set off nowadays because you usually wake up before it even has the chance.

4:25 A.M.

You groan and toss your pillow over your face. Maybe, just maybe, you can will yourself to sleep for a little longer. As if someone heard your pleas for slumber, your phone starts buzzing on your bedside table. Of course, it is unnecessary for you even to read the messages. There is a case.

+++++

"Last night in Fredericksburg, a 20-year-old woman, Molly McCarthy, was abducted," J.J. begins, "She's the third to go missing in the last 6 weeks. All disappeared from public places. No one's seen them since until now. A couple days ago, body parts with cigarette burns were recovered from a national park that was once the site of the battle of Chancellorsville."

"Were they able to make an I.D.?" you and Hotch ask simultaneously. Your eyes meet, but he breaks the contact abruptly. Flustered and insecure, you bury your focus deep into the file in front of you. The group discusses the case for a couple of minutes, but you are so concentrated on the papers that you hardly absorb any information they've shared.

There is something familiar about this case to you. Suddenly, realization strikes.

Rejoining the discussions, you say, "I remember reading about a case like this in Spotsylvania county. Similar markings on the bone. It was the winter of 1980, also in Fredericksburg. There were 5 women aged 16 to 24. They were buried in pieces."

"Same markings. Same civil war battlefield," J.J. responds in agreement.

The team agrees that this could be the works of the same killer. There are aspects of the more recent killings that would be impossible to copycat since those details had never been released to the public. But, if this is the same unsub, what's he been doing for the past 27 years?

+++++

Hotch focuses on the road while you watch out the window of the passenger seat. Occasionally, you sneak the odd peek at him. His stoicism is alluring, and you find yourself drawn to this demeanor like a moth to a flame. Piecing together the tiny glimpses you've collected thus far as if working on a mental puzzle, you scrutinize his attributes. His eyes bare the beginnings of crow's feet. Only his sideburns tease the speckling of salt and pepper undertones. His lips turn downwards at the corners, no doubt from years of scowling at unsubs.

Reid speaks up from behind you both and breaks your train of thought. Probably for the better, there's no reason why you should examine your unit chief so intently.

"It's funny--he always dumps the bodies in this battlefield, no matter what the risk."

"It's a respected landmark. He's flaunting," Aaron reckons.

"It makes him feel important," you say in agreement.  

Once you have arrived at the crime scene, you follow Agent Hotchner closely. Reid trails ahead, most likely trying to keep up with his own train of thought.

"How does someone not see or hear them?" You ask the sheriff.

He turns to you with a defeated expression, "It was dark. He had the advantage. Molly's boyfriend was the last person to see her. He said she was alone for a minute, maybe less."

Hotch surveys the surroundings, "He's patient and works fast."

"He's perfected his M.O.," Reid states while looking around.

You cross your arms as a wave of unease gets the best of you as you envision the moments leading to Molly's attack.

"If our unsub's pushing 60, he's gotta be strong enough to carry her a long way without her struggling," you bring out.

Hotch looks to you with a concerned squint. You shake your head, signaling to him that it's nothing you can't get under control. He nods in response. The sheriff agrees to point out the various entrances to the park.

"I'll catch up with you," your Unit Chief states. He motions for you to step aside with him, and you comply.

"You know, ever since my wife and I had our son, I dread receiving cases involving children," he discloses to you.

Tears well up in your eyes, "I can't even imagine, but sir, why are you telling me this?"

"This job will inevitably strike close to home on some cases more than others. It's okay for you to feel overwhelmed by it all every once and a while," he assures you.

"You never lose it, though."

He sighs heavily, "Maybe I should have."

Shortly before you joined the BAU, Hotch's wife Haley left with their son Jack. You never ask questions or stick your nose where it doesn't belong. It isn't your place, and you can't blame him for not wanting to bring his family struggles to work. He deals with enough broken families on the job as it is. Mixing his own personal life into the field would only make it more challenging to prioritize. Despite all this, you cannot help but wonder what exactly led to his and his wife's separation. You hope that they can find their way back to each other. The crimes you investigate do not need to claim the Hotchner's as victims as well.

+++++

"I'll let you talk to Chrissy Wilkenson," Hotch directs you towards the kitchen. You wipe your sweaty palms against the fabric of your pants and make your way into the kitchen, Hotch following closely behind you.

"Mrs. Wilkenson," you say gently, "My name is Y/F/N. I have just a few questions about your husband. Where does Charlie usually go when he's stressed?"

"The barn," she stutters. You can tell she's anxious and afraid for the well-being of her family.

"Anywhere else, Chrissy?"

Hotch is called into the other room, and you continue questioning Chrissy. She's becoming overwhelmed, so you guide her to the dining room.

"I know this is difficult, Chrissy."

"Did the father of my child really do that to those poor women?" She cradles her baby bump.

Your heart breaks for her, and you choose to remain silent. Sometimes saying nothing speaks louder than words.

Footsteps bound throughout the house, and Hotch appears in the doorway, "The sheriff will stay here with Mrs. Wilkenson. We need you with us."

Standing up from your chair, you place your hand atop Chrissy's, "History doesn't have to repeat itself." It is almost as if she could tell you were reading her thoughts. The endless whispers that cloud her mind making her feel like she's left with only one choice, but there's always another option. That is all you are trying to remind her of.

+++++

As you and your team trek through the forest, you see a clearing.

"Hotch, this way," you beckon him to pursue your course.

Suddenly, a gunshot rings out, and you stop in your tracks. You make eye contact with Hotch and mirror each other's actions, dashing towards the opening in the trees. Your heart pounds in rhythm with your footsteps colliding against the ground. It is clear to you from your exchange with Chrissy at the house that the origin of the gunshot will shock everyone but yourself. As you reach the clearing and rush down the hill, your speculation is validated.

Chrissy Wilkenson is standing over the body of her husband, the unsub. A traumatized young man haunted by his father's past and plagued by the idea that children are trapped in the endless cycles created by their parents.

I guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. Jesus. Now is not the time for that.

The newly widowed woman claims self-defense, yet the cops handcuff her anyways. Inside, you feel conflicted while watching her get into the back of the squad car.

Hotch appears by your side but remains silent. Again, sometimes silence speaks louder than words. You bit your lip, attempting to hide the fact that it is trembling.

"What did you say to her as you were leaving the dining room?"

"I told her that history does not have to repeat itself. I wanted her to know that even when it feels like you are backed into a corner, there is always another way out. Sometimes people don't know where to look for their out thought," you quiver.

He lightly touches your arm and gives you a reassuring tilt of the head, "Just know that you did everything you could. We will never do this job perfectly. Doing the right thing usually costs more than it pays. You did your part.  I'm not a saint, and I am far from a hero, but I have integrity and honor, and I do this job to the best of my ability."

"If you can leave a case with a clear conscience," he continues, "you know you did the best you could. Any other thought process will eat away at you slowly but surely, and ultimately, it will result in the demise of your career and destruction of yourself."

+++++

After a seemingly neverending day, you all arrive back at Quantico.

"I could really go for a drink, guys. What do you say? Newbie's buying," you wave your wallet around frivolously.

"I could go for 5 drinks!" Prentiss exclaims.

"Count me in," Morgan winks at you. He never fails to make you blush.

Reid hesitates and you pout your bottom lip, "Please Reid! How could you not want a repeat of Dolly Parton night last month?"

Hotch comes down the stairs, "Dolly Parton night? Do I want to know?"

You and Derek snicker to each other as Spencer attempts to diffuse his own embarassment.

"9 to 5 is an iconic female anthem that certainly has a rather bewitching affect on a man when mixed with alcohol."

"You only drank Diet Coke that night," you roll your eyes at him.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Hotch forcing his way through the small group formed around the desks.

Making your way over to him, you invite him to join, "Want a beer?" You second guess yourself, but it seems as though his rather stern expression softens ever so slightly when he pivots on his heels to look at you.

"I would like that," he answers softly.

He immediately returns to his original path and hovers near the glass doors. You casually make your way over to him, joined by Dave and Emily. A man barges in through the glass doors announcing Aaron's name.

"Agent Hotchner?"

"Yes," the subject in question breaths out almost defeatedly.  

The yellow package he holds in his hands is all too familiar and instantly churns your stomach into knots. You gnaw at your bottom lip, drawing a metallic taste that causes you to cringe.

"What is it?" Emily speaks up.

There's no question as to what it is. Oh Hotch. I’m so sorry.

Hotch's eyes trace the package from corner to corner in disbelief, "Haley's filing for divorce. I've been served."

When he eventually takes his eyes off of the lettering, his eyes meet yours. They lock onto you and it is in that moment that you feel as though you have been given the key to unlock his soul. His eyes are so unusual at this moment; they are more vulnerable than you have ever seen. The stoic man is gone, and instead, it is the eyes of one who is in tremendous pain. You had mistaken his bloodshot eyes for physical fatigue on the plane, but now you see that it is emotional exhaustion as well.

If only you knew how badly I want to hug you and tell you that you won't be swallowed up by this darkness. There's a long road ahead, but you have so many people here who love you and are here to support you through this. You aren't alone. Trust me, I know.

In some way, you pray that he can read into your soul and see the pain you feel for him. Once more, your shared silence proves to speak for itself.  

At last, he breaks eye contact with you and finally releases the breath that you had been holding in. Dave grabs onto your arm, seeing the clear impact Hotch's news has on you, no doubt having also noticed Hotch's immediate response in looking at you.

"I'm sorry, but I don't think I can join you tonight," he excuses himself and escapes to the seclusion of his office.

Maybe history does have a way of repeating itself.

Tag List:

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[ohtheclevernessof]

A Quarter Vulcan: a Spuhura fanfiction

Spock wants to rediscuss the Helping Vulcan Repopulate discussion with Nyota. This is set a few weeks after the Krall attack at Yorktown. Enjoy my first Star Trek fiction

Spock and Nyota were in his temporary quarters in Yorktown going over briefings from the Krall attack over cups of tea. They had spent the last few weeks since the attack rekindling their relationship as Spock healed from his injury but he felt there was still some things that had been left unsaid.

“Nyota, I wish to revisit that last conversation we had on the Enterprise.” he spoke up, cutting the quiet silence of  the room.  Nyota looked up from the article she was reading, momentarily confused until she realized just what conversation her Vulcan boyfriend meant. “You meaning the one where you told me you wanted to help repopulate Vulcan?” she asked hesitantly, not sure why he would bring that up now especially since it was essentially why they broke up.  

She had felt so hurt that Spock didn't see a future with her and the fact that he had wanted help repopulate Vulcan he would need a Vulcan woman not her. She could never give him the full Vulcan children he wanted for his planet and she had felt like she was less in his eyes for it.

“Yes. I have come to realization that my idea was highly illogical and incredibly self serving because it completely disregarded your feelings.” Spock said as he looked at her honestly. Nyota let out the breath she didn't know she had been holding as it became clear that he was trying to apologize to her in his own way. She set down the reports on the table next to her and nodded for him to continue his thoughts.

“Father has often said to me as Child of Two Worlds that my desires for both of them will always be in conflict and he has been correct in his assumptions so far as even you have been privy to it. There has only been one absolute in all this that has not wavered and that is my care for you. Nyota, that is not something I take lightly and it has brought me to the conclusion that it would be more then just acceptable if our offspring would be only a quarter Vulcan.”

Nyota's eyes went wide at his words, she had not expected the conversation to go in this direction or for Spock to admit this so suddenly. But then again he was one to speak his mind at times when no one expected it so it shouldn't have surprised her that much.

“I think you are getting a bit ahead of yourself. We aren't even married yet and you are talking about our possible future children already.” she said with a amused laugh.

“Is that a desire you have? If it is, I would not be opposed to it, on the contrary it would be a great honor for me to take you as my Human wife. Just as my father did with my mother.” Spock admitted in his usual serious tone as he reached over and gently took her hand in his. Nyota blinked at him once again, he was definitely catching her off guard but it wasn't unwelcome. With all that they had faced together since she had entered the academy and then on the Enterprise. The pain, the hurt, the near death experiences, it wouldn't be outrageous to think that maybe the next step in their relationship would be on both if their minds,

“Is this you trying to propose?” Nyota asked him with a curious smile and all Spock could do for a moment was blink back surprised himself. Had his intention in this conversation to propose her at this moment? Sure he had been considering proposing to her, even researched it but had he meant so suddenly like this?

“I suppose I am... Although in my research of the subject, it seems customary for Human marriage proposals for a ring to be involved. If you wish me to table this discussion until I have procured one, I would...”

He found himself stopped in mid sentence by Nyota's finger to his lip and he looked back at her curious.

“Spock, I would love to be your wife.” she said simply as she leaned over and replacing her finger with her lips, sealing her words with a soft kiss that he gratefully reciprocated before pulling away gently.

“I do have one request for you. That you allow me to raise our offspring as Vulcan despite them being only a quarter but do so with the promise that they may choose to live as a Human if they so desire. The same option my father gave me.” Spock whispered, as he pressed his forehead to hers. “I would expect nothing less from you.” Nyota said with a grin as she pulled him closer and her lips found Spock's once more.

“You were researching how to propose? My god man, do you have even a ounce of romance in that pointy eared head of yours?” Bones exclaimed with a scoff at Spock's way of doing things. Even though he considered the Vulcan his friend, he still couldn't make sense of him about half the time.

The following day Spock found himself being practically interrogated by Bones after the news had been spread through the Enterprise crew chambers about Nyota's and his engagement.

“You mean to tell me your entire proposal was based off if you wanted Vulcan kids or not?” Bones questioned the  half Vulcan dubiously, crossing his arms. Spock sighed, looking back at him. “I can understand how it could be perceived in that fashion but it was not my intention. I had been researching proper Human proposals before this but I had not decided on the correct method.”

“What Uhura sees in you, I will never understand.” Bones said with smirk, shaking his head.

“I do not find that relevant to this discussion.” Spock replied flatly to Bone's accusation, frowning at him unamused. “Regardless Nyota seems pleased so I believe it was the correct action even though it was unplanned.”

[jerrylevitch]

Do you think or know whether Jerry ever regretted all of the affairs and sleeping around? Or if he looked back on it differently later on? I know he'd talked about it kind of jokingly, which i'm sure was a default/defense mechanism. I also get all the factors that contributed to that behavior so I don't really judge him for it, and he wasn't the only one doing it by any means...I was just wondering if you had a take on it or knew anything. Still love him, that horny little bugger lol ;)

He did feel guilty and for awhile, and he tried to be faithful to Patti in his own mind by not finishing inside the woman he was with. According to Jane McCormick:

"Jerry was almost bashful when it came to having sex, but he thoroughly enjoyed it. Still, he had a quirky way of dealing with his loyalty to his wife. He would not climax inside me, no matter what kind of sex we had."

Of course you'll see Jerry boasting about his sexual escapades and other crap like he didn't care when he was older like on E True Hollywood Story or Playboy, and GQ Magazine, but I always go back to this passage that Jerry wrote to himself and consider this the truth, because here he didn't have to put on a show for anyone, or try to look macho by saying he had all these women.

From Patti Lewis' book:

“Jerry was a master at candidly acting out personal vignettes about three areas of real life: relationships, situations, and predicaments. They form the backbone of his comedy. He nurtured many relationships and wrote volumes on how he felt. I tried to understand what he was saying, beyond the words, when I read the notes he sent me; the “I luv you’s” written across my makeup mirror at home; and the longer messages I found on my desk.” ”At times I found him five parts philosopher, one part humanist, ten parts deep thinker, one part spiritual, fifty parts comedian, twelve parts unpredictability, and twenty-one parts everything else. In 1966, one late summer afternoon, I found the following and took it to the garden to read:”

”To ask how deeply I feel is like asking, ‘Where is God?’” ”We can answer with nothing more than “if’s” and “maybe’s.” “In other words, the answers are really intangibles, yet I’m going to attempt to answer one of them to the best of my knowledge and awareness.

My feelings, where my wife is concerned, are very deep and very sacred…She is the very reason I live…for she is the only reason I know that makes living worth anything…and the boys that she produced for me are equally worth it, but one day they’ll leave and then there will be only us…

She is the first human thing that has ever cared about me or for me…Oh, there were little dogs, and little boys and a few beings that cared, but not enough that I could have survived.

It was only when she came into my life that I realized I had a life to live…I was always made to feel that I was given a case of breath out of pity…It was as though someone said, “We have plenty, give him some.” Then I knew I had to make good and be someone, or something a little better than those that gave me an occasional handout… As I got older, I didn’t much care about being better than them anymore…I just cared about staying alive and getting some degree of respect as a human thing on God’s Earth…I knew he didn’t mean to have anyone just exist…but he meant fur us all to have a meaning and a purpose. I have to try to get my thoughts put in the proper place so I can put things down that really count! Now then, if my wife was the first to care and to really treat me like a human being with love and warmth and the like…the big question is, “How could I have treated this special being as I have?” My answer that I find coming is… After so many years of being made to feel like nothing…I guess I worked on being something so much more than nothing…that I found myself making the real somethings around me nothing in the haste that drove me to be something…The responsibility of taking care of the loves I had always had made me feel like, “Why should I care for what one day will discard me anyway?” I don’t know if that’s the case, but it sounds right…and coming from someone who loves those tremendous loves as I do, it certainly confuses me, too… My constant silence, I think, has been fear…of what my love would think of what I’ve done…fear of doing the wrong thing…and losing the respect I have always felt I got from her…to be placed in the position of being disrespected and disregarded again has always knotted up my insides so badly that silence seemed the only way to avoid the possibility of rejection…very often my hiding was part and parcel of that fear…The feeling of being nothing again, or being looked at with disdain, has, for as long as I can remember, been tearing me up inside…And those tears have come out looking like torment…Well, tormented I am, and have been, and pray one day soon I won’t know the feeling anymore… My wrapping myself up so completely in my work helped for a while, but the “ego” that came across was never there…I have none. But I work desperately at displaying “ego” to cover the real emptiness I know inside… As a director I have found infinite peace…because I am to so many…an authority, a man who knows, and not someone who is treated with “pity” or “charity”…That’s the biggest reason for the love of creativity I have, for a man is free when he is creating. Not just creating “funny” by way of the mask I wear, but by making others the puppets…and making them stand out front for a change…The feeling of “behind the camera” feels safe, and warm, and special, and certain…”Out front” has been very hard and trying for me…and for the first time in my life I think I can honestly admit…I hated doing it and I still do…The happiness that seemed to appear from standing “in one” was nothing more than getting a general acceptance from a lot of people who care at the moment….But “at the moment” isn’t enough for me anymore… I need all the care I can get all the time…and I only seem to be able to get that from my love, my wife… I don’t ever want to appear “indifferent” to my wife…but that appearance, too, I think is just hoping not to be a burden and an annoyance to her...I just can’t remember ever being anything but an annoyance…and when I’m told I’m not, I can’t seem to recognize that is possibly the case. I don’t like to hide and run…I want to be free to go and do as any other man does… I know I need help…but I really believe the help will come from within…as soon as I can place things in their right positions… Admitting to “hating performing” might help me adjust sooner…Admitting the love I have for writing and direction will, I’m sure, take me out of the depths of my depression…and will ultimately take me into the realm of peace and contentment. I want to talk more, I want to communicate more…I want

to say so much, and get help from her, I want so much to scream the things that tug away at my heart and my soul…And when I try, the hurt is so strong, and deep, and festered that I clam up, and the relief I want doesn’t come… Now to bury that grief…I find someone who has equally as much or more than I so that I can be the helping hand…For if I can help, then my hurts can’t be so bad…How much trouble can I have, if I’m listening to someone else’s? And for years I made that a practice…to give of myself only to forget I needed more giving than anyone… I don’t think I have always been aware of that fact…I really wanted to share and give and be charitable…but there’s that word again…charitable…I should have known better. For “charity” was the one thing that started my life wrong.. I wasn’t entitled to charity by those people when I was so very young…I was entitled to all the love and care all little lives should get…But how long did I have to wait to realize “charity” shouldn’t deal with the ones we love…They should only get the real “love” and nothing more…and give “charity” to strangers in need…Period! (And they should be picked carefully!) I’m trying to feel “God” in me and maybe with his help we can push out the torment…and place the “alive” of a being, back where it was taken from… With it all I am a very lucky man…to have found the real, right, and perfect human being to spend my years with. I want so much to do the right thing to keep her straight and happy and healthy… When she is ill, the reaction to it isn’t any different than when the spike is forced into the vampire’s heart…it’s the only emotional thing that can kill me, and that’s when she hurts…or when I’ve caused her pain…but my intentions are never to hurt her, never to do her a moment’s pain…Never to create a frown on her lovely face…Why those things happen are a complexity to us both…And I will serve myself from here on in as a student of care and concern and caution as to how she gets treated and how I allow much of my feelings to affect her… I can only answer “God” honestly, and he knows my worth and my intentions, I have no fear of his wrath…for I know he knows I’m basically good, and fine, and honorable when it comes to my love and my soul for her… I have no guilt about what I have done thru my blindness…I only have guilt for the things I might have avoided doing…If I had just put…”First things first.” I will try! And “God” knows my heart is talking, not the typewriter.”

[virlath]

Hidden Trespasser mosaics

So I was researching some lore for a theory surrounding the environmental artwork in DAI, and happened to stumble upon this twitter post regarding unused mosaics for Trespasser. 

Coincidentally, I’ve been so deep in statues and elven god symbolism the past few days that I thought I’d chime in with some of my own thoughts.

From left to right in these artworks, I think we’re looking at four different gods involved in Solas’ slave rebellion.

Fen’Harel, Dirthamen/Falon’Din, Andruil, Mythal

===

If this hidden game file is anything to go by, it seems to confirm one theory I’ve had for a while- that Solas had help from some of the evanuris with his slave rebellion.

Because when you think about it, it’s kinda hard to believe he could have started a slave rebellion at all with his high profile and attachment to Mythal, especially when slaves seems to have been a big economy in ancient Elvhenan.

===

The gods in these mosaics

From left to right in the image

(Note: I actually posted some hi-res shots of the masks from DAO yesterday if you’re interested in seeing unedited screenshots, but I’ll break down my guesses here anyway.)  

1. Fen’Harel is obviously the wolf.

2. Dirthamen’s mask is easiest to spot because it matches the shape of his statues in DAO. Note that Dirthamen and Falon’Din have very similar statues and masks.

Falon’Din is the statue with the spear (recognised by Tamlen as “friend of the dead”) while I believe Dirthamen is the statue with four arms (this also strongly implies the envy demon in DAI is his corrupted raven, Deceit)

I believe Falon’Din and Dirthamen are two aspects of the same being, but how that actually works remains to be seen. Some people have suggested Falon’Din walks the fade while Dirthamen walks the physical realm and perhaps that explains their togetherness and separateness. 

Regardless, it does seem like both Falon’Din and Dirthamen were involved in Solas’ uprising due to the fact that both their mosaics are found inside the elven sanctuary before we see Solas’ mural removing vallaslin.

3. Andruil’s mask seems to fit most similarly to the third mosaic.

The overall curved shape mirrors Andruil’s bow in her mosaic, and the dotted indentation at the top totally looks like an arrow shaft. The eye placement in both the mosaic and the mask hints to me that this is very likely Andruil.

The big question- why would Andruil be helping Solas?

Perhaps because Mythal turned her to their side after she “sapped Andruil's strength, and stole her knowledge of how to find the Void.”

Or, perhaps Andruil isn’t as “evil” as people think she is.

Sure, she may have brought on the blight (although even this is conjecture, personally I feel like this could very well could be misdirection) and may have hunted “mortal men and beasts”, but who’s to say these beasts and men didn’t deserve what they got? Who’s to say she wasn’t corrupted by the void before she became the “goddess of sacrifice”?

One day Andruil grew tired of hunting mortal men and beasts. She began stalking The Forgotten Ones, wicked things that thrive in the abyss.

This implies to me she could have simply been hunting beings that had given her cause to hunt them. Remember, she was the only god that responded to Ghilan’nain’s cries for help, and at this time Ghilan’nain was one of the People, implying she wasn’t totally evil.

Andruil also has strong links to Falon’Din, because she and Falon’Din share the same symbol of the owl. What if Mythal meted out judgement, Falon’Din brought her judgement to them in the form of the owl (thus fulfilling the role of Andruil’s messenger as well as “friend of the dead”), and Andruil hunted them in turn to render Mythal’s judgement?

“Always keep an eye out for the noble owl. You never know: Andruil might have a message for you.”

It is interesting to see that the owl statue is always carrying what looks like a mirror or even dimension to another world (another prison perhaps?), possibly intended as a way to reflect the viewer’s own self and actions back on to them. 

Anyway, to me there are a number of possibilities why Andruil would work with Solas and co. Perhaps she wasn’t as corrupted as they thought. Perhaps Mythal made her forget so much so she agreed to help them. Or perhaps Andruil was the mole in the rebellion - the person who began the events that led to Mythal’s death.

4. I think the last god represents Mythal, due to the fact the shape is similar to the bronze statues found in the crossroads and deep roads.

There are in fact two versions of this statue - the sun, in the crossroads, and the moon in the deep roads. (brightened and contrast boosted for clarity)

The moon statue is strongly implied to represent Mythal, because a note is found near this statue:

These statues are old. Better shape than anything I've seen on the surface. Many of them are for Mythal, though. And Fen'Harel. Not in a spot of honor, but guarding, attending.

Question is, why would the sun also represent Mythal when Elgar’nan is known as the Eldest of the sun? 

Well, not only does the sun statue look very much the yin to the yang of the moon statue in the deep roads, the sun could refer to Mythal being both the sun and moon to the dwarves. 

These statues are notably different to other elven statues we’ve seen- notable for the fact they have a large base of rock, and they are carved in smooth bronze.  As these bronze statues are only found in this particular section of the deep roads where she controlled a lyrium wellspring, perhaps the dwarves carved these as a representation of her.

In the third note you find in the deep roads, a poem reads:

I am empty, filled with nothing(?), Mythal gives you dreams. It fills you, within you(?), Making our leaders proud. My little stones, Never yours the sun. Forever, forever.

It sure seems to me like Mythal was protecting these dwarves from something. Either that, or she was using these dwarves as slaves or minions in her operation and for some reason, they revered her enough to carve their own representations of her.

Morrigan says this of Mythal at the Temple of Mythal:

Let fly your voice to Mythal, deliverer of justice, protector of sun and earth alike.’

Similarly, Solas further says:

She was the mother,  protective and fierce. 

Regardless, I think there’s more evidence indicating Mythal was working with Solas over Elgar’nan. You do need Mythal’s passphrase after all to enter the elven sanctuary safely.

And if you want to take this one step further, check out the crown “Andraste” is wearing in DAO. Look familiar??? Maybe reminscent of the moon statue we see in the deep roads?

I don’t want to say Mythal was Andraste but...there are many signs that are hard to ignore.

===

More theory drabble

I realise a lot of the gods’ motives I’ve come up with above are based on conjecture and tbh, the writing for DA4 could go so many ways simply because of the fact that there are so many wide open threads that could be expanded upon.

These unused mosaics does indicate to me at least that the writers have a plan for how Solas’ rebellion actually functioned however, and that to me is exciting in itself.

One thing we can assume with high certainty is that Solas started the slave rebellion before Mythal’s death, because you need her passphrase to enter his sanctuary. Furthermore, even without these unused mosaics there are in-game mosaics of Dirthamen and Falon’Din in the sanctuary before we see the vallaslin mural.

This strongly implies to me that at the very least, even without this hidden game file, that Dirthamen, Falon’Din and Mythal aided and abetted Solas’ slave rebellion.

Further adding to this theory are the the rather compelling links to Dirthamen throughout DAI. For example, the gilded Fen’Harel statues in Dirthamen’s temple’s inner sanctum, Dirthamen’s bleeding statue in the Fade, Dirthamen, Falon’Din, Mythal and Fen’Harel imagery in the Knight’s Tomb, as well as Dirthamen’s statue at Calenhad’s foothold (where it’s implied he had a thing with Ghilan’nain). Not to mention- dual raven standards found underneath Fen’Harel’s sanctuary, as well as archer statues next to the eluvian as you exit (who I believe represent Dirthamen & Falon’Din).

Something clearly happened that led to Mythal’s death, and I’m leaning towards the fact that there was a leak somewhere within Solas’ trusted circle. Dirthamen seems to have been betrayed by someone close to him before the veil was created, because his statue in the fade is stabbed in the back and his eyes are weeping waterfalls of blood. 

As Solas says “...an enemy can attack, but only an ally can betray you. Betrayal is always worse.” 

And, when you tell him you trust your friends? He responds “I know that mistake well enough to carve the angles of her face from memory” 

It is assumed he is talking about Mythal’s own betrayal when he says this, but he could also be referring to the person/people who betrayed him and his trust. Personally, I think Falon’Din and Ghilan’nain could be key players in Mythal’s death at this point. We don’t know enough about the other gods to also make assumptions on their motives unfortunately. 

All in all, it seems to me like every one of the false gods were out to get one another, and Solas never even saw Mythal’s death coming because he was too arrogant/preoccupied with his rebellion.

If Solas really was Mythal’s oldest friend and guardian, his pride would have been absolutely crushed when she was betrayed and killed. The veil was likely a knee-jerk reaction due to his pride and “hot-headedness” more than anything- if he could be outplayed and have his own power and role as “guardian” outright questioned, then of course he would retaliate and raise the stakes even higher. It’s his MO- he has a means to an ends “you didn’t invent war” mentality, disregarding the collateral damage as long as he comes out on top.

This does make me wonder what intentions he has for the false gods once they’re freed though. Obviously Mythal wants her vengeance. But what of Solas? These false gods were his kin after all and the only ones who can truly relate to him on a level no mortal can understand. After all these years of stewing and realising his knee-jerk reaction cost him the entire elven empire, it makes sense he would want to restore what he effectively destroyed when his pride was hurt. 

To me it does seem like he truly hates the evanuris...but could he still be in leagues with some of them? Something I may not put past him, considering I don’t think he worked alone during his rebellion. 

[hersheykise]

Jonathan Joestar’s Spotify Playlist

Hello and welcome to the beginning of a series (or projected to be ahaha) that has to do with Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure characters and their own personalized playlists! I’ll be listing the track list and then will be going more in depth as to why I chose these particular songs for Jonathan’s playlist. The top part will not have spoilers, but be aware that the second part will so read at your own will! For the first playlist, we have none other than Jonathan Joestar, the original Jojo!

💿✨Track list✨💿

01. Jojo (Sono Chi no Sadame), Hiroaki Tommy Tominaga

02. BREATHE, AB6IX

03. breathin, Ariana Grande

04. We Belong, Ong Seong Wu

05. My Heart Will Go On, Céline Dion

06. Silence, Marshmello ft. Khalid

07. Dollhouse, Melanie Martinez

08. London Boy, Taylor Swift

09. Needed Me, Rihanna

10. Line Without a Hook, Ricky Montgomery

11. Glorious, Macklemore ft. Skylar Grey

12. Fighter, Christina Aguilera

13. Classic, MKTO

14. Win, CIX

15. Blue Hour, TOMORROW X TOGETHER

In Depth (spoiler free)

🔹 Jojo (Sono Chi no Sadame), Hiroaki Tommy Tominaga

Sono Chi no Sadame is the first opening of Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure and is truly what sets up the stage for the rest of the series. Jonathan Joestar, being the first Jojo, begins the Jojo legacy in Phantom Blood. The song lyrics heavily foreshadow the future of the Jojo series and describes Jonathan as someone who has honor and always does what is right. Sono Chi no Sadame is a spectacular opening act to the unique concept of Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure. *side note* Muscially speaking wow this song is incredibly good the crescendoes and frequent tempo changes as well as the instrumentals amaze me- this is easily my favorite Jojo opening.

🔹BREATHE, AB6IX

Hamon (also known as Ripple or Sendo) is a technique that heavily focuses on controlled breathing. Jonathan learned and mastered Hamon in a very short amount of time. BREATHE also has a very light feeling to it, making the song easy to listen to which connects to Jojo as he is a lighthearted and easy going guy.

🔹breathin, Ariana Grande

Likewise as BREATHE by AB6IX, breathin correlates to the Hamon technique that Jonathan used to fight. Adding onto that, Jonathan lived in a grand mansion and was very well off financially. This song has an elegant sound to it. Despite the wealth that he had, Jojo did not have the easiest childhood. Ever since Dio Brando began to live with him, Jonathan saw many mishaps occur with his relationships, reputation, and self esteem. But, Jonathan Joestar never gave up on his morals and values, and he always kept “breathin and breathin and breathin” no matter what, making sure he would always do the right thing.

🔹Silence, Marshmello ft. Khalid

Silence explains and describes Jonathan’s teenage years very well along with his relationship with Dio. Dio coming to live with Jonathan messed him up as Jonathan felt inferior to Dio who was taking the spotlight by being an amazing athlete and intelligent student. This prompted lots of praise from Jonathan’s father and comparing him to Dio constantly, which made Jonathan feel like he wasn’t worth as much. “I found peace in your violence” is a very meaningful line that contributes to Jonathan’s and Dio’s relationship because of the fact that Dio was... an extremely violent person ever since he was a kid and has done crazy evil things to Jonathan, yet Jonathan didn’t really hate Dio because of Jojo’s noble personality- Dio was Jonathan’s “brother,” therefore Jonathan couldn’t hate him. Jojo felt like he had to be silent over Dio’s actions because he didn’t want to spoil the love that his father gave to Dio, again proving how big of a heart Jonathan had.

🔹Dollhouse, Melanie Martinez

Dollhouse is a rather dark song, but is perfect to show off the darker side of Jonathan’s character. As we know, Jonathan is a young man who presents himself as well... perfect. He’s smart, incredibly kind and noble, rich, popular, and athletic. After Dio appeared and started to really turn things around for Jonathan, he had to continue to present the same image of himself even though his home life was becoming a wreck. His own father constantly scolded him and loved Dio to a great extent. “Pose with your brother won’t you be a good sister?” Jonathan knew that Dio’s actions were evil and he had ill intent at such a young age but Jojo had to go along with the act that Dio put on, faking the close brotherly relationship between them.

🔹London Boy, Taylor Swift

Sometimes I forget that Jonathan Joestar is in fact British. London Boy is a song for Jonathan not just because he lives in/by London, but also because the song describes a man who is just so sweet and has a beautiful laugh. The overall song is just so positive and loving towards this English boy. Every time I listen to this song I now think of Jonathan, and a smile always plasters on my face. Taylor Swift also has a lyric talking about watching rugby which reminded me of the iconic Jonathan and Dio rugby scene early in the story. Jonathan is such a respectful gentleman whom everyone just can’t help but fall in love with his lovely English charm.

🔷Line Without a Hook, Ricky Montgomery

After upon listening to this song, I felt like it really gave off Jonathan vibes because of the light but a tinge of melancholy sound to it. Thing song is quite reflective of Jonathan and Erina with the lyrics “I broke all my bones that day I found you crying at the lake” because it reminded me of when Jonathan first met Erina, who was being bullied by a couple of boys but Jonathan risked getting beaten up to stop the bullies from harming Erina. Later, Jonathan was laying on a hill with his dog Danny, feeling quite down because of none other than Dio, but Erina came and dropped off some grapes and his handkerchief and that was what really started off their relationship. The iconic line “she’s a, she’s a lady, and I am just a line without a hook” explains that Erina was Jonathan’s sole happiness in his life.

🔹Fighter, Christina Aguilera

Honestly, Dio really sucked (I still love him *sigh*). He wanted to completely destroy Jonathan’s life and make it absolutely miserable... for what? Well, despite the horrific actions that Dio performed to ruin Jonathan’s reputation and will, that ultimately backfired as Jonathan rose stronger than ever. Of course Jonathan was mad at Dio for his unspeakable actions, but because of him, he was able to have a certain drive where he gained immense strength in a short amount of time. William Zeppeli describes Jonathan as a Hamon prodigy because of how quickly Jojo was able to master it. Jojo was a natural, but again, he had that determination to defeat Dio once and for all. Despite the hardships Jonathan went through as a result of Dio’s decisions, Jonathan did not resent him in the end- Jojo became an extremely powerful individual because of his past.

🔹Classic, MKTO

In order to create a playlist for our favorite gentleman, it’s only necessary that we add a classic gentlemanly song to it! There’s not much of a deep gloomy reason why this song correlates with Jonathan, in fact it’s the complete opposite. Classic is a song that talks about being a classy and polite man, and to put it simply, Jonathan is exactly that.

🔹Win, CIX

From the God of High School soundtrack, Win is a song about fighting and training together as a team. This upbeat song greatly reminds me of the mini team of Jonathan Joestar, Speedwagon, and William Zeppeli all fighting against Dio and his minions together. Jonathan Joestar was not able to fight Dio without a hamon teacher, William, and an incredibly loyal friend, Speedwagon. This trio had great camaraderie and were overall an incredibly adorable and high morale team.

🔹Blue Hour, TXT

Ok so does this song really have a deep meaning or correlation to Jonathan Joestar? Nahhh not really, I just added it as a bit of a bonus. Blue Hour has an almost fairytale like vibe to it and I just thought it would be something that resonated with Jonathan, especially when he was a child. So, enjoy this little serotonin bonus boost!

⚠️Part 1 Spoilers⚠️

🔹We Belong, Ong Seong Wu

Jonathan’s and Erina’s relationship was very short... but sweet. We Belong is an emotional love song explaining how this one guy meets someone who is their entire world, like when Jonathan met Erina. Through Jojo’s darkest times when he felt like he lost everything, Erina was by his side no matter what. Even though their marriage was abruptly ended with the death of Jonathan, it doesn’t disregard the fact that Erina completely loved Jonathan and supported the Joestar family for the future generations to come. Jonathan and Erina truly belonged together.

🔹My Heart Will Go On, Céline Dion

My apologies, I’m absolutely in love with Jonathan’s and Erina’s relationship. My Heart Will Go On automatically reminds me of the last moments of Jonathan. Since the song was a part of the Titanic soundtrack where there’s a romance story and people die on a sinking ship, it really correlates to Erina and Jonathan going on their honeymoon but Jonathan ending up dead on the ship. Everytime I think of either the song or Jonathan’s and Erina’s last moments together, my heart feels heavy. Both the song and the scene are extremely high in emotions and both suit each other quite well.

🔹Needed Me, Rihanna

Dio killed Jonathan so that he could merge with Jojo’s body, and ultimately use it for evil and for power. “Never told you, you could have it,” symbolizes that Dio forcibly took everything Jonathan had, again including his own body. Although Jonathan would probably never say the lyrics of this song to Dio because he’s so noble, externally everyone knows that without Jonathan, Dio would have been absolutely nothing in Part 3.

🔹Glorious, Macklemore ft. Skylar Grey

The song Glorious questions oneself’s purpose in life, the answer being ‘give back to the people.’ Jonathan has proven that he has countlessly sacrificed himself for others, as was seen when he died on the ship and told Erina to take care of the orphaned baby and to “live a happy life.” Jonathan struggled greatly in his short life, but he always had the passion of helping others since he was born to do so.

🌟Conclusion🌟

Thank you for reading through my first ever blog on Tumblr! I hope you enjoyed the playlist and descriptions! Hopefully this playlist blog series will continue with majority of the main Jojo characters- that’s the plan. Have a good day and/or night💓!

[sally-mun]

I know I mentioned in another recent post that I really want to get back to doing my “shows,” but before I can get started I have a couple of other things to finish first, one of which is working on zines. The one I’m currently working on is a Ranma ½ zine, and it’s been an interesting experience -- both because of working on the zine itself, and because of my own history with this series.

That’s right, it’s time for another rip-roarin’ Sally-mun ramble!

My first encounter with Ranma ½ was on my 15th birthday. A friend of mine, one of the only other anime fans I knew because it was still relatively unknown in the US, got me the second graphic novel, which is as much as had been officially translated at the time. Going into the story with no context was confusing to say the least, but it also intrigued me enough to look up whatever info I could find on the few stray bits of internet that covered the series, and it was enough to get me hooked.

That said, I also had kind of a difficult time being a fan, because I honestly didn’t like Ranma himself. Like, at all. I found it confusing that the author would write the protagonist to be so blatantly and outwardly unlikable, and as a result I found myself just sort of looking past him and trying to follow the lives of the other characters. I was appalled at the sort of things he would say to Akane; his constant jabbing that she’s not cute, she’s stupid, no one will ever like her because she’s a tomboy, his frequent judgements of her body... I gotta say, they really resonated with me. I couldn’t help putting myself in Akane’s shoes, and in a weird way I felt personally hurt by his insults. I really admired Akane’s strength and the fact that she never let his bullying get to her, because I know it probably would’ve destroyed me. And this is just the way he treats her; I was equally uncomfortable with the way Ranma antagonizes and harasses several other characters in the series as well. I loved the series and I enjoyed following it, but there was always this uneasy feeling inside of me anytime Ranma opened his mouth.

The last time I read or watched this series was probably in my early 20′s. I worked really hard to track down all the DVD seasons (which were exceptionally rare and expensive at the time), and once I completed my set, I felt such a relief and satisfaction that I put the story down and, it turns out, I hadn’t picked it up again since. It’s been a decade or so since I was actively engaging with this series, so when I got accepted to work on this Ranma ½ zine, I’ll admit that there was a part of me that felt a mild degree of panic. Yes, I’m still a fan, but I’m not very deep in the weeds right now; I honestly wasn’t even sure if I could decently write the characters, including and especially Ranma himself. In fact, I realized, I didn’t want to write about Ranma. I didn’t want to write about a character that I probably wouldn’t willingly spend time with in real life.

In the end, however, none of that mattered, because I signed on with this zine and I needed to be an adult and honor that commitment. Since it’s been such a long time since I’ve read or watched this series anyway, I decided to binge on the anime again for the first time in all these years. And this is why I’m writing this long-ass post tonight, because even though I’m only a couple seasons in right now, I have been absolutely shocked to find that my perspective on this story has completely changed. My teenage self can’t even believe I’m saying this, but I seem to have switched sides. I now find Ranma extremely sympathetic, and Akane to be the bully.

Although there is still a part of me that feels for her when Ranma really digs in with his insults, it pales in comparison to how upset I get with Akane over her treatment of Ranma. The fact that she’ll purposefully go as far out of her way as possible to paint Ranma as a jerk is honestly something that’s interfering with my enjoyment of the show. She does have her nice moments here and there, but if any opportunity arises for Akane to scream about Ranma doing something allegedly reprehensible, she’ll take it -- no matter how many people point out the very simple and innocent alternate explanations.

With Akane relentlessly campaigning against him, it honestly comes as no surprise anymore that Ranma snaps at her and antagonizes her. It’s about all he can do to vent his frustrations sometimes, and if she’s going to depict him as a jerk no matter what, he may as well let off some steam in the process. Ranma’s situation is difficult enough just having to deal with his curse, but then to also get forcefully engaged to someone who intentionally sees the worst in him? If anything, I’m now surprised at how much he holds back. He could easily be as nasty to her as she is to him, but he actually takes it kind of easy on her, all things considered. And don’t forget, he rarely gets a break from her; they not only live together, but also go to school together. They’re in each other’s faces all the time. I’m pretty sure I’d have had a few choice things to say to her too if I were in his shoes.

It’s even more frustrating when you consider that she doesn’t even have a good reason TO be treating him this way. This all started because of a mishap that was nobody’s fault. Ranma’s not at fault, Akane’s not at fault, NO ONE is at fault here. Ranma had no reason to believe that anyone (let alone Akane) would walk in on him getting out of the bath, and Akane had no reason to think a boy would be in there. I’m sure she felt embarrassed and violated and wronged, and I DO feel for her in that regard, but that is not his fault. If, IF, IF we’re going to assign fault to anyone, it could honestly only be hers, because one could argue that Akane could’ve at least knocked or announced herself prior to joining Ranma (as a female) in the bath. Furthermore, she doesn’t even acknowledge that this mishap went both ways, as Ranma points out himself that she got a good long look at him, too. He was just as exposed as she was, but she immediately disregards his point and tells him “it’s different when a girl sees a boy,” whatever that means.

Akane is too stubborn to admit to herself that she’s the only one you even could assign blame to, too hypocritical to acknowledge that she wasn’t the only victim, and too immature to just let the damn thing go. It’s a really bad mix that becomes the driving force behind her relationship with him from day one. Akane wants retribution for the crime she’s convinced herself that Ranma committed, so she INSISTS that he’s a no-good pervert because she’s mad that no one was on her side that day. If she couldn’t convince them then, then by god she’s going to convince them eventually, which is why she just will not fucking stop trying to paint Ranma as a perverted jerk. She takes any opportunity she gets to show off his allegedly bad intentions, because to her it’s just another step closer to getting people to see she really was justified on that first day. And Ranma is forced to keep tolerating this, day in and day out, regardless of what he does or doesn’t do.

So what does all this mean?

I think this means that this series is exceptionally well-written, more than anything. At the time that I first discovered this series, I was only marginally younger than Akane herself. I related to her so strongly that I was only capable of seeing the situation from her side, and only able to relate to her emotions and her experiences. As I stated in the beginning, I felt like Ranma’s insults hurt me personally, rather than just empathizing with Akane for him hurting her. This tells me that, for all of her faults, Akane is exceptionally on-point for a girl in her mid-teens. Yes, she’s being immature and petty and unreasonable, but she’s also only 16. That’s how we are at that age, and sometimes it’s easy to forget about that once you grow past it. Teenage years are that shitty point in your life where you feel like you’re so sure that you’ve FINALLY got everything figured out, when in reality you aren’t even capable of understanding the depth of how much you don’t know. Akane holds her grudge against Ranma because she’s so sure she’s right, and she’s determined to find validation for that if it’s the last thing she does, because that’s how most of us viewed the world at 16.

But that’s one of the things that makes my revisit to this series so extraordinary: Akane’s not able to grow and change, but I am. I’ll never be able to view the series the same way I did as a teenager, because I’ve had so many new experiences and so much time to grow since then. I can certainly remember the point of view I had and why, but I’ll never actually have that same view again. I’ve learned so much more about the world, about people and relationships, about morals and ethics... all kinds of things that she can’t, because she’s necessarily frozen in time as a character in a story. Akane doesn’t get to evolve with her readers over the years, and it makes for a fascinating snapshot of where I was mentally and emotionally at that time.

I think the biggest and most critical difference between then and now is my self-esteem. When I first connected with this series, I had basically no love for myself and no confidence that anyone else would ever see anything valuable in me. I was in a place where it was not only very easy for words to hurt me, but for those words to stick with me, sometimes for years after the fact. Ranma, despite simply being a character in a book, was effortlessly able to hurt me on a particularly deep level because that’s how delicate I was at the time of reading it. He hurt me so much that I was completely unable to see his point of view; all I could see was someone being cruel for seemingly no reason, and as such I saw Akane’s treatment of him as completely justified.

20 years later, however, it now reads as a completely different story. I don’t share Akane’s kneejerk reaction to these situations anymore, and I’m more focused on thought process and reasoning. I’m more able to recognize when I’m missing information and need to investigate more, more accountable for when I’ve done something wrong, and more willing to let small things go. Hell, I have a better understanding of what “small things” even are. When I was Akane’s age, none of the incidents happening in the story seemed like small things, but now? Now I just don’t have time for that kind of minutia. It’s... wait for it... childish. Because teenagers are still children, no matter how much we didn’t want to admit it at that time.

But that’s part of the genius of how this series is written. Not only did I instantly fall into the same mental trap as Akane when I WAS her age, but now that I’m not anymore, I look back on it as just kids getting wrapped up in their microcosm of the world. No matter how much I get frustrated at Akane for being horrible to Ranma, I can’t not admit to myself that she’s not an adult yet, so in some way it’s me being the unreasonable one by trying to hold her to adult expectations. She’s still got a lot to learn because she’s still just a kid. I literally used to be just like her at one point in my life. If I was able to mature past that sort of behavior, then I’d like to think that, if Akane were able to age, then she probably would one day too.

[questionsonislam]

What are the fundamental rights Islam gives to man?

To comprehend the importance given to human rights in Islam, it is better to have a glance at the circumstances of the world before Islam. As follows:

1. All of the states in the world were ruled by monarchy. The ruling king, monarch or emperor had full authority over the people he ruled. He used to kill or exile the people he desired, and he did not have to account for anything he had done to people.

2. People were divided into classes. The monarchs close acquaintances and relatives (the nobles) were in the privileged class. Besides, a large group of people who were despised and whose rights were violated constituted a separate class. There was a deep gap between those classes.

3. Slavery was carried out in the most barbarous way. Personal dignity was flagrantly violated.

4. People were treated depending on their races and color of their skins; the superiority of the lineages were accepted as the unique superiority measure. People were not appraised according to their intelligence, knowledge, competence, morals and virtue.

5. There were no fundamental rights or freedoms. None of the fundamental rights or freedoms such as freedom of conscience and religion, right of property, freedom of having a residence, freedom of opinion were considered for an ordinary person. People were subjected to oppression and persecution because of their belief and opinions; and consciences were under oppression.

6. The fundamental principles of law were disregarded. It was even impossible to imagine fundamental judicial concepts like equality in law, domination of the laws, individuality and legality of the punishments. Personal desires and commands were deemed as law, different punishments were applied to the persons committing the same crime but belonging to different classes.

The religion of Islam came and committed the greatest revolution in the history of humanity when the world was in such a dark state.

If it is examined fair-mindedly, it can be seen that the ultimate humane targets that have been attained today were realized many centuries before the human rights declarations were published in the Western World both in the Noble Quran and in the practices of the Prophet (PBUH),

As a matter of fact, the principles included in the speech (the Farewell Sermon) the Prophet (PBUH) gave during his Farewell Hajj are the clearest examples about the issue.

This sermon was read in the year A.D. 632 in the presence of more than 100,000 Muslims. That is, 1157 years before the 1789 Declaration of the Rights of Man and of the Citizen which is regarded as the first written text concerning human rights.

The new principles Islam brought to human rights also had major effects on the struggle of the human rights in the West.

Man has a different value from the other beings. That value increases through belief in Allah and obedience to His commands. Thus, man becomes the most honorable guest in the universe. Man gets the value of humanity by his birth, in fact by the beginning of his formation in the uterus and he bears that value throughout his life.

The value of being a human surrounds everyone. Woman-man, elder-younger, black-white, weak-strong, poor-rich, no matter from what religion and nationality, race or color; the shadow of that compassion encompasses all.

Thus, Islam protects the blood of every person from being shed illegally, his chastity from being violated, his property from usurpation, his dwelling from being violated, his lineage from being deteriorated, his conscience from being under constraint. Islam assures the honor and dignity of humanity.

The fundamental rights and freedoms Islam has provided humanity are as follows:

1. Islam put an end to the discrimination of race and color. All people descended from Hazrat Adam. It is not possible for a person to choose his own race and color. It is completely by Allahs determination. It is extremely wrong and harmful to make discrimination and to regard some races and colors as supreme by condemning some races and colors both from the point of view of Islam and humanity.

Almighty Allah says in the noble Quran that He created mankind from a male and a female, and that when their numbers increased, he made them into nations and tribes so that they would know and help each other easily and they would make friends . (al- Hujurat, 13)

As it is seen, the fact that people are from different races and colors are not for superiority to each other but for getting acquainted with and helping each other.

An event illuminating that approach of Islam is as follows:

Abu Dharr, from the companions (sahaba), got angry with Bilal al-Habashi and insulted him by saying: Son of the black woman. He despised him because of his mothers color. When the Prophet (PBUH) was informed of the event, he got very angry and told Abu Dharr the following:

— O Abu Dharr. You have despised Bilal because of his mothers color, is that so? Then, you still have the mentality of the age of ignorance (jahiliyyah).

Hazrat Abu Dharr felt very sorry and repented for those words that slipped out of his mouth with a momentary anger without his intention. He began to cry, threw himself to the ground and put his face on the ground and he said:

— I swear, I wont raise my face from the ground unless Bilal threads and tramples on my cheek with his foot.

He apologized to Bilal al-Habashi repeatedly.

2. Islam put an end to the superiority of family and ancestry and being proud of that. During a meeting that the Companions (sahaba) were present, Sad b. Abi Waqqas offered some of the notables to mention the names of their ancestries. He named his ancestors from the beginning to the end. Salman al-Farsi, who was originally from Iran, was also present there, He didnt have a famous lineage as the notables of Quraish. He did not know his ancestors in detail, either. When Hazrat Sad offered him to name his ancestors, he found this offer strange and gave him this answer: I am Salman, son of Islam. I dont know my ancestors like you. I know one thing that Allah has honored me with Islam

Hazrat Umar also felt uncomfortable with that unnecessary offer of Sads about naming ancestors that reminded the mentality of the age of ignorance . He was so pleased with Salmans meaningful answer that he likened his answer to Salmans answer saying, I am Umar, the son of Islam, too.

When the Prophet (PBUH) heard the case, he also liked Salmans answer and he said: Salman is from me, from my family.

The Prophet demolished the mentality of ignorance based on the superiority of the lineages by giving the noblest families daughters in marriage to some companions that were slaves set free.

3. Islam brought the citizens the right to control and supervise their administrators. It aimed to put an end to the arbitrary management, injustice and illegality in the administration of the state. Hazrat Abu Bakr expressed that issue as follows in his speech when he was elected as the Caliph: O people! I have been elected as your administrator although I am not the best one among you. Obey me if I perform my duty in accordance with Islam. If I go astray, warn me.

One day, Hazrat Umar asked the Muslims in the mosque, If I go astray, what will you do? They replied: We will straighten you with our swords. Hazrat Umar was very pleased with that answer.

4. Freedom of Thought and Conscience. Freedom of thought and conscience is the most important human right after right of living. Not giving this right to man means reducing him to the degree of the animals by getting him out of his real essence. Therefore, Islam by no means allows thoughts and consciences to be kept under oppression. With the principle There is no compulsion in religion, Islam does not approve of making people accept the fundamentals of belief by force.

5. Islam has paid attention to the establishment of slavery painstakingly and brought it to a judicial regulation.

When the religion of Islam arose, slavery was prevalent as he most barbaric and inhuman practice all over the world. Islam, of course, could not have been expected to abolish that establishment completely that was prevalent all over the world. So, Islam did not choose to abrogate slavery completely at once but gave it the most humane and civil form by making great reforms regarding it. In addition, Islam supplied some formulae to make slavery abolish indirectly by increasing and facilitating the ways of passing to freedom from slavery.

6. Freedom of Property. Love of property and desire to have goods are among the various feelings Allah has given to man. That issue has been specified clearly in the Quran. Islam has given man the right to have property and has laid the groundwork for satisfying that feeling in a legal way. Nobody can interfere in any way with anybodys right of having property that Islam gives to him without his permission.

7. Equality before Law. Islam accepts all people equal before law like the teeth of a comb. Islam does not allow making a privileged treatment to the people in accordance with their social status and pedigrees.

In Islam, the dominance and the superiority of the laws are essential. The president and any of the citizens are treated equally before law. The guilty one is penalized even though he is a president. The most striking examples of it are that Fatih Sultan Mehmet and a Greek architect; Hazrat Ali and a Jewish; Salahaddin al- Ayyubi and an Armenian were taken to the court to be judged.

A woman from a noble family of the Mahzum tribe committed a theft on the conquest day of Mecca and she was caught in the act. She had to be punished. But, since the woman belonged to a noble family, they were afraid to blacken the name of the family so they wanted her to be forgiven and not to be punished. But how would they attain it? How would they tell it to the Prophet? Eventually, they sent Usama b. Zayd, the beloved one by the Prophet, to the Prophet as an envoy. Usama entered the presence of the Prophet and told him about the case. He asked him to forgive the guilty woman. The Prophet (PBUH) got very angry with this offer. He got out right away and made this historical speech:

O Muslims, do you know why the nations before you had been demolished and destroyed and had become a thing of the past? When a person from the notables committed a crime, they would not punish him. However, when an ordinary person committed a crime, they would desire strongly to apply the punishment. This injustice caused them to be destroyed. I swear, if the person committing the crime were my daughter Fatima, I would not hesitate to punish her at all.

Thereupon, the punishment was applied immediately.

The following sentences from the speech that Hazrat Abu Bakr made when he was selected as the Caliph also attract attention from that point of view: The weakest ones among you are the strongest before me till they take their rights. The strongest ones are the weakest before me till I take others rights from them.

8. Individuality and Legality of Punishment. In Islam, there can be no illegal punishment, and punishing somebody else instead of the person committing the crime is not in question.

The principle of the individuality of punishment is expressed in Chapter al-Anam as follows: Every soul draws the meed of its acts on none but itself: no bearer of burdens can bear the burden (sin) of another. (Verse: 164)

9. Independence and Impartiality of the Courts. Courts, which are the establishments for justice in Islam, have been kept away from all kinds of outer oppressions, personal animosities, spites andarbitrary applications; and the judges havent been allowed to lose their impartiality. In Islamic courts, presidents were tried with ordinary people and they were punished if they were found guilty.

10. Inviolability of Residence and Immunity of Private Life. In Islam, nobody has the right to interfere with an individuals private life and to enter his residence without his permission. In Islam, it is forbidden inspecting peoples confidential affairs.

11. Freedom of Travel. In Islam, traveling is accepted as a cause to learn lessons and to get healthy. Therefore, people are encouraged to travel.

12. Right of living, assurance of protecting lives, property and chastity from violation. That issue has been manifested in the most beautiful way in the Farewell Sermon by Allahs Messenger:

O people! Just as you regard this month, this day, this city as Sacred, so regard the life and property of every Muslim as a sacred trust. They are protected from all kinds of violation.

13. Social Security. The religion of Islam patronizes man so that he wont be aggrieved and wretched due to old age, illness, disasters and accidents, and Islam takes the future of the needy under assurance through social security measures it supplies. Above all, Islam incites people to take themselves under assurance economically by encouraging them to work. Besides, Islam supplies a distinct security in the family, in the circle of neighbors and relatives by various measures it has taken. The state itself takes the individuals security under assurance when all of these security precautions are insufficient. The establishment of zakat (alms) and waqfs are the perfect social security foundations.

14. Freedom of Labor, Justice and Equality of Payment. In Islam, working and endeavoring are appreciated and encourageed greatly. Begging, being a burden to someone else is not welcomed. What is more, working to provide a living for ones family is regarded as worship as long as (fardhs) obligatory duties are performed. The verse, That man can have nothing but what he strives for. shows the importance Islam gives to endeavoring and working

Islam, which assures the freedom of working fully –on condition that it is a legal earning way-, also organizes the relationship between the employee and the employer in the nicest way.

The principle Pay the wages of a worker before his sweat dries assures the rights of workers in the perfect way.

The worker, in return, will try to complete the work assigned to him perfectly and completely and he will accept trying to deserve the wages he receives as a principle.

15. Patronage of Children. Islam patronizes children beginning from their birth; several aids are made to parents for their children nutrition and clothing expenses and subsidies are allocated from the treasury of the government. Today, that aid is supplied in all rich states under the name money for children. Allahs Messenger insistently warned the army of Islam against killing women and especially children in the wars.

16. Fundamental Education is Obligatory and Free of Charge. The hadith Seeking of knowledge is obligatory for every Muslim man and woman. makes the fundamental education obligatory. The curriculum of the fundamental education has been prepared very carefully in Islam.

The fundamental education includes vocational education besides religious, ethical and moral knowledge. Islam considers it necessary for children to be trained for a profession along with religious knowledge.

[her-culture]

Achilles and Patroclus in Greek Mythology: Friends or Lovers?

If you are familiar with Greek mythology, I am sure you’ve heard of Achilles and Patroclus, two close men who fought in the Trojan War. The relationship between Achilles and Patroclus is a pretty common debate: were they friends, or lovers? Based on the material we have on them, it’s clear that their bond is intimate. But with many different variations and interpretations, it’s hard to say for sure what kind of connection the pair has. Let’s break it down and see what the most popular ideas are, and why their relationship speaks to so many people. 

To start, we should definitely take a look at Homer’s Iliad, which is where many people look for information about Achilles and Patroclus. Although the piece details their lives, the nature of their relationship is unclear. This ambiguity may not be done on purpose, but it has led to a large number of divergent conclusions. 

Homer never explicitly depicts a romantic relationship when it comes to Achilles and Patroclus, nor does he allude to anything sexual between them. Yet it’s impossible to deny that they are very close to one another (such as how Achilles acts gentler around Patroclus, and how the two are constantly together). They almost seem like partners in life, even if you just examine their connection in a platonic context. 

One of the most substantial moments in the Iliad that many use to support the idea of a romantic relationship is how Achilles reacts after Patroclus dies. His death occurs because Achilles refuses to fight to protect his honor, so Patroclus dresses up in Achilles’ armor and goes out to the battlefield. The Prince of Troy, Hector, kills him thinking he is Achilles. Once Achilles finds out, he erupts with rage and murders Hector. Achilles knows this act will bring upon his own fated death, but he still carries it out. Achilles’ strong reaction to Patroclus’ death is often taken as a sign that their relationship was possibly deeper than it may seem at first glance. Those who believe they were lovers often cite lines where Achilles says that he loved Patroclus as his own life (Book 18). Another popular piece of evidence for the argument is that Patroclus requests that their bones be buried together, which indicates the strength of their bond. 

After this, other writers such as Aeschylus and Plato have depicted the two of them in a sexual or romantic relationship, although in many Greek works they are considered to have a large age difference. These writers also go back and forth between which of the pair is the erastes, which is the older one in the relationship. 

Following these mainstream portrayals, many have continued to debate the nature of their relationship. Different versions that came out depict Achilles and Patroclus in very distinct ways, such as Shakespeare’s Troilus and Cressida which shows them as lovers, whereas the Hollywood film Troy portrays them as cousins. Yup, you read that right, cousins. 

The novel The Song of Achilles, which is one of my favorites, depicts the entire relationship between Achilles and Patroclus. They are shown as lovers, using the source material of the Iliad to back up the events that occur. Their relationship is very beautiful and intimate in the novel, and author Madeline Miller does a great job of capturing the emotions they have for one another as the story unfolds. She has previously said the biggest piece of evidence that they were lovers goes beyond how deep Achilles’ grief is following Patroclus’ death; it is also how he grieves the death. This is something many others have picked up on, as I mentioned previously, which contributes to the idea that Achilles and Patroclus may have been lovers.

Numerous other Greek stories depict possible same-sex relationships. Sappho, the Greek poet who is often compared to Homer, often expresses love for women in her work and her sexuality has long been debated. These are just a few examples of why Achilles and Patroclus being lovers may not be so far-fetched as some people may claim. Then again, we do not have anything explicitly leading us to that conclusion. 

At the end of the day, the stories and characters are mythological and we cannot know the intentions of Homer for certain. But many members of the LGBTQ+ community take pride in the fact that Achilles and Patroclus may have been lovers because, in many ways, it seems as though it could be true. 

What do I think? I think that their relationship is certainly intimate and can be perceived as romantic. I am not saying that is what Homer intends or that is what everyone may believe, but I believe it is not difficult to understand why people see it that way. Ask yourself: if it were a man and a woman who acted the same way, would you possibly be more inclined to believe it as romantic? And to those out there who disregard even the possibility that it could be more than platonic without giving the idea consideration, I think that your attitude speaks for itself.

Avani is a Rutgers University student who is passionate about television and bands. In her free time, she can be found reading fantasy books or snacking.

[juzuya-13]

And a happy motherfucking Valentine's day to all my beloved fictional characters that died without receiving the love they deserved.

Karren, my beautiful German rose, that sacrificed so much, she gave up her own identity in order to fulfill her late father's wish to carry the family's name, she was such an interesting complex character that I couldn't help but fall in love with. Sadly, she died in order to save someone she loved more than her own self. In the end her selfless nature took over one last time. She deserved better.

Agni, my beautiful, brave soul. He was one of the kindest, most righteous characters I've ever seen, despite his troubled past he remained so crystal clean at heart, he was so faithful and honest it hurt, he also had a smile that could light up Soma's whole palace and our Ciel's entire manor at once. Unfortunately, he died protecting someone he loved and praised more than life itself. You were too pure for this world and you deserved so much better. Agni you were truly an exemplar butler until the very end.

Rize, my little funky blood thirsty woman, your actions were questionable but in the end you didn't really knew better and were just trying to fight your demons all along, a great character that deserved better.

Arima was just am AMAZING character, I've loved him from the very beginning and I was stunned when he died, I know he did it for the greater good but it still felt so unfair to me, he lived a lonely, sad life, and he for sure deserved better.

Eto just broke my heart, even though I refuse to believe she's actually dead it was just awful to have given her such a bad ending. Eto was one of the strongest, most well written characters in the whole entirety of Tokyo Ghoul and Tokyo Ghoul :re (my opinion), she had such a troubled past, everything she went through and what she was trying to accomplish, the person she became along the way just made her such an interesting, complete character. I truly wish Eto could've been there at the very end to see the new world order she helped creat, Eto you were the best and you deserved better.

Furuta, I don't even know where to begin, I've always loved furuta so much, he was such a complex character, he did have a twisted mind at times but once his motifs became clear I couldn't help but love him, he was just as hurt as Kaneki, he too was struggling, I refuse to see Furuta as "the bad guy" because he simply wasn't, if anything he was Kaneki's equal. In the end all he wanted was to live a somewhat normal life besides the one he cared so dearly for and he didn't get to do so. Furuta you deserved better.

Shirazu was such a light-hearted character, I loved the fact that he was so innocent and goofy but also so strong and responsible, he wanted to help his sister and make sure his squad mates were safe at all times, he was the big brother we don't deserve, he was too good and unfortunately a lot of people only understood his worth after he was already gone. He died fighting to protect his friends while trying to raise money to support his sister. Shirazu you deserved so much better.

The whole Circus troupe, I know they had their faults and what they were doing behind the scenes wasn't right but I couldn't help but empathize with them and their stories, they all had very traumatic pasts, living in extreme poverty, being disabled, feeling unwanted and disregarded by society, everything they've been through was just heart breaking, all they had was the Circus and each other, also I'm sure they didn't mean to do the the children any wrong they were just caught up in the mess of some psycho who used them as a vessel to obtain what he wanted. I was very saddened to see them all die one after the other, I still believe they deserved better.

Madame Red aka Angelina, I loved her character so much, she was beautiful and fierce, I know she was a murderess and very troubled with the loss of her unborn child and her husband plus the whole Vincent being the love of her life and Rachel being her own sister situation, the fire that burned everything she had ever loved to the ground and eventually the return of Ciel (our Ciel). In a way she did deserve her fate given all she had done wrong but also I don't believe she had bad intentions, she was just deeply hurt and struggling with her own sense of morality, I do wish she would've lived so we could see more of her interactions with our Ciel and even the possible reaction to the return of the the twin (real Ciel). Overall I do miss Angelina, she deserved some happiness for a change.

Vincent and Rachel Phantomhive, this one is tricky, I know the whole point of Kuroshitsuji is our Ciel avenging the death of his parents so that in the end Sebastian can finally have his soul as payback, but I still can't help but love the dynamic between Vincent and Rachel, they seemed to be such a loving couple, they are probably my only reliable ship in this whole entire fandom, they seemed to be very much in love and every little panel with them is always lovely, Vincent being so high and mighty but also so dorky at the same time and Rachel being such an adorable mama bear to the twins, I don't wish they would've lived because if they did the story wouldn't have a reason to be but I do hope they're having a lovely Valentine's day in their afterlife or if they happen to be reborn again I hope they find their way to each other once more.

(the characters aren't ranked in any specific order)

Fandoms : Tokyo Ghoul / Tokyo Ghoul : re and Kuroshitsuji.

Also a huge honorable mention to Kuzen Yoshimura that was such a great man that lost so much and despite his sorrows still managed to strive for goodness and believed the world was worth saving, Kuzen you deserved so so much better.

Happy Valentine's day everyone! Hope this didn't make you too sad, remember if you love someone don't waste time go tell them you love them today and everyday.

♥

[signetofworlds]

Under the Sign of the Dark (Antipaladin Codes)

(art by SirTiefling)

Follow the dead in the dark of damnation

Pious in head and a demon at heart Sworn to the night an evangelist nation born Under the sign of dark

-Powerwolf, “Incense and Iron”

Evil is a lot more picky about its champions than one would expect. This is not to say that evil deities will boot out those who flock to them because these individuals are insufficiently sinful (in fact, a willingness to take and train most anyone is one of the major advantages evil has over good). I’m simply saying that if you want to rise to wealth and power through the fiendish planes, you better be willing to put in the blood, sweat, and tears (both yours and others’) to get the dark lords to notice you. One of saddest sights in existence is watching a bunch of inadequately committed fools proselytize to a deity who actively rejects their prayers, and this tends to happen far more often to casual disciples of hell than to those with a passing fancy for heaven.

The way the churches of Erastil, Apsu, and less-relevant-to-me good gods tell it, you would think that evil’s greatest strength is that it’s willing to take any fool off the street and invest him with the kind of power that an angelic priest spends decades trying to master. As a person who has spent countless years observing the ascensions, machinations, and terminations of mighty beings who could be dubbed “evil” from most standard points of view (or at least from the point of view dictating how that sort of magic works), I can assure you that the strongest followers of Asmodeus, Lamashtu, and their ilk are a small and immensely dedicated collective, one whose loyalty has been tested and found valid on numerous occasions before they could even erect a Magic Circle Against Good. There are good reasons for why you hear about Paladins falling far more often than you hear about Antipaladins faltering in their destructive pursuits, and only a few of them have to do with the immensely stifling moral codes imposed upon most every “Good” faith by a certain obnoxious and inadequately nuanced goddess).

Just as a Paladin draws strength from faith in their ability to make the world a better place, an Antipaladin’s unholy might is derived from a fervent belief that existence is so completely abominable that the only course of action is to double down on the atrocities until something changes. Some absurd desire to injure animals, terrify children, or drink the blood of your enemies is not enough to make the dark gods take notice of your convictions (though from what I hear these traits don’t exactly hurt your chances). To become a true sentinel of evil that stands out from the mass of fiends and sinners, you must be willing to push yourself towards twisted ideals that transcend your simple mortal comprehension of pleasure and suffering. A paladin is expected to dedicate themself to a greater cause in order to retain their powers, and an antipaladin is expected to exceed even a paladin’s (frankly absurd) level of loyalty.

Now, although I’ve gone to numerous rather extreme lengths to avoid associating myself with agents of evil, I have nonetheless familiarized myself with the ideas, teachings, and tenets of numerous unsavory and evil faiths so that I can understand their plights and perhaps mitigate their impact on reality (or potentially support it, as not all of these ideas are terrible). I present here the chief ideologies and commitments which fuel the Smiters of Good all across the multiverse, with special focus being given to the non-demonic and non-daemonic patrons whom not enough powerful entities are concerned about.

Ahriman (from Inner Sea Gods)

Antipaladins of Ahriman are often jaded or cynical about the advancements that “civilization” has brought to the world, especially when enlightened objectives and advanced magical techniques have been utilized for the greedy pursuits of the few. They seek to humble the powerful by despoiling the edifices they stand upon. Their tenets are as follows

-Mortals are not meant to wield the forces of creation or the might of the outsiders for their own whims. I will teach them their folly.

-Wealth, beauty, and love are little more than fabrications to hide oneself from oblivion. I will tear down these facades and expose the truth to those who run from it.

-Only in oblivion can one find purity. When I destroy, I do so with the assurance target my target shall never again be rebuilt

-I will guide others on the path to ruin. A group of ruinous fools can accomplish far more than one dedicated agent of oblivion

Unique Antipaladin Spells

1st-Break

2nd-Shatter

3rd-Stinking Cloud

4th-Telekinesis

Dahak (from Inner Sea Gods)

Antipaladins of Dahak are seekers of violence and humblers of the prideful, ruinous beings who strike at the powerful and the arrogant to show them how feeble they truly are. Most are dragons, but quite a few mortal dragonslayers make up their ranks as well. Their tenets are as follows

-A silent death brings no revolution. When my enemies fall, I will make their defeats spectacular

-Weak opponents are not worthy of my concern. I will challenge those who place themselves above others.

-Never shall I descend into pride or hubris. I will let my actions speak for themselves.

-I will tolerate blind devotion in others only insofar as I cannot prevent it. Followers deserve to have their gods broken.

Unique Antipaladin Spells

1st-Ear-Piercing Scream

2nd-Scales of Deflection

3rd-Draconic Reservoir

4th-Dragon’s Breath

Fumeiyoshi (from Dragon Empires Gazetteer)

Pushing beyond Fumeiyoshi’s disregard for honor, Antipaladins of the Lord of Envy seek to tear down the foundations of honor and tradition which they believe enshrine the inhumanities of society. Their tenets are as follows

-Never shall I sacrifice myself for honor or pride. These things are the bindings of fools

-I will not judge others on matters of dishonor. Such trivial notions fail to reflect truly worthwhile qualities in an individual

-There is no nobleman or peasant, no worthy or unworthy being, merely those who are honest with themselves and those who hide behind formalities

-Silence is little better than death. I will say what needs to be spoken, politeness be damned

Unique Antipaladin Spells

1st-Chill Touch

2nd-Rage

3rd-Fly

4th-Charm Monster

Ghlaunder (from Inner Sea Gods)

Antipaladins of the Gossamer King are parasites, manipulators, and spreaders of disease, following in their gods’ example by deceiving the virtuous and exploiting all those who would fail to grasp their true intentions. Most are tyrants who pose as heroes, relishing in how their victims are turned upon all others would claim to help them. Their tenets are as follows

-I do what I wish to those who are too weak or foolish to resist me. There is no pity or relent for the incompetent

-The weak are unfit to crowd this world, and I will see these weaker individuals eliminated so that their descendants will not afflict us further

-No good deed goes unpunished, and I will see that those who offer their hands in compassion obtain their just punishment

-Charity is the path to oblivion, and I will see that I never surrender my dignity or belongings to the true service of somebody lesser than I.

Unique Antipaladin Spells

1st-Infernal Healing

2nd-Blood Armor

3rd-Glibness

4th-Caustic Blood

Gyronna (from Inner Sea Gods)

Antipaladins of Gyronna are scorned, spiteful individuals who remember the grievous personal wounds inflicted upon them by the world and seek to repay them through suffering. As with the rest of Gyronna’s faith, they are all women, with the vast majority being outcasts with violent and tendencies. Their tenets include the following affirmations

-Idle bonds such as love and friendship cannot be forged with the liars and oppressors of the world. My loyalties are to my goddess, my sisters, and myself only

-I offer aid and compassion to those who have been ruined and cast away by the world. They become my sisters in time.

-Never shall I remain silent as an innocent woman is abused by those who call themselves just. The world must know of our suffering.

-A lifetime of impotent suffering is a more worthy punishment than a quick death. When convenient, my foes are to be left alive and mutilated.

Unique Antipaladin Spells

1st-Lock Gaze

2nd-Crimson Confession

3rd-Howling Agony

4th-Curse of Disgust

Hanspur (from Inner Sea Gods)

Antipaladins of Hanspur are an order of twisted knights who claim to enforce the Six River Freedoms across the River Kingdoms and abroad. They punish those who would threaten the freedoms and maintain the balance of power amongst warring factions of the River Kingdoms, even if that means atrocious acts. Their tenets are as follows

-I keep the roads and rivers free of those who would attempt to hoard them for themselves.Those who take such territory for themselves are duly punished

-The Slaver and the Oathbreaker are a pestilence, and neither deserve mercy

-No one rule may control all. I will ensure that dissidents are always given their opportunity

-I am better than a simple thief. My foes will have the opportunity to defend themselves should I confront them.

Unique Antipaladin Spells

1st-Alarm

2nd-Hydrophobia

3rd-Hydraulic Torrent

4th-Find the Path

Lady Nanbyo (from Dragon Empires Gazetteer)

Antipaladins of Lady Nanbyo are opportunistic and brutally sadistic individuals who prey upon lands ravaged by natural disasters. They finish the works they believe their goddess to have begin, eliminating survivors and reducing what few structures still stand to dust. Their tenets are as follows

-Ruin is the will of the universe, survivors aberrations against it. I end those who dare to cheat oblivion

-Through destruction comes renewal. I shall view every defeat as an opportunity to grow stronger

-Death is the closure of all things. My opponents will not live to fester in defeat

-If I face my own death, I do so bravely and without hesitation or regret

Unique Antipaladin Spells

1st-Thunderstomp

2nd-Tremor Blast

3rd-Raging Rubble

4th-Firefall

Lao Shu Po (from Dragon Empires Gazetteer)

Antipaladins of Lao Shu Po often come from humble origins, rising to power through the guidance and teachings of their opportunistic goddess. Many are Wayangs or Ratfolk, and most take pleasure in idea of disrupting or perverting the plans of other divinities. Their tenets are as follows

-Life promises nothing. I take what I can through my own power

-The best plans of men and gods can be torn apart from within. From the shadows I dismantle the fragile world these fools have built.

-My pursuit is wealth and influence, not glory. The shadows of the world are my ally

-No dirty tactic is below me, nor any illicit pleasure

Unique Antipaladin Spells

1st-Expeditious Retreat

2nd-Urban Step

3rd-Tiny Hut

4th-Dimension Door

Ragadahn (from The First World: Realm of the Fey)

Inspired by the immense power and cast knowledge wielded by the Water Lord, Antipaladins of Ragadahn are a mixture of brutal tyrants who rule the seas and occult warrior-scholars who gather the lore of countless nations to fill Ragadahn’s archives with their secrets. Their tenets are as follows

-I will respect the wisdom of my elders, for there is no greater teacher than time

-The sea is the source of all life and the force that will one day consume it. I will respect and understand its power while showing no mercy to those who threaten it

-Many questions do not have answers, but I will seek to uncover their truths nonetheless

-So long as my foes retain secrets of value, they shall live so that I can extract them

Unique Antipaladin Spells

1st-Charm Fey

2nd-Aquatic Trail

3rd-Sepia Snake Sigil

4th-Freedom of Movement

Scal (from Pathfinder Adventure Path 123)

Antipaladins of Scal are warped mystics who seek to purify themselves through the ruin they inflict on others. Violence is their path to self-betterment and ultimately enlightenment, with universal clarity becoming ever-clearer with every release of violence from the soul. Although Scal’s followers are quite rare, they immense destruction that his mightiest disciples leave in their wake is legendary. Their tenets are as follows

-There is instability and weakness within me, which will be purged through the violence I unleash on those around me.

-So long as I exist, I shall continue to improve my craft of violence so that I may more effectively achieve purity

-I will guide others on the path to violence so that they may be freed from the shackles of impurity that bind them.

-Compassion and attachment are the sources of my fault, and ascension requires that I rid myself of such fetters

Unique Antipaladin Spells

1st-Stone Fist

2nd-Visualisation of the Mind

3rd-Force Punch

4th-Detonate

Set (from Pathfinder Adventure Path 80)

Antipaladins of Set are ruthless agents of insurrection and conquest who look to the atrocities of their god as being the tools which will reforge the world into a more perfect and virile state (which typically means that they end up at the top). Most often, they are warlords or politicians of some manner, hailing from numerous races. Their tenets include the following affirmations

-Nothing is sacred or safe from my reach. Tradition and rules exist only so long as it is convenient to abide by them and should be torn down when they fail.

-Weakness is not to be tolerated or promoted. Vulnerabilities should be exploited, fools deceived, and challengers beaten.

-As power is the ultimate determinant in nature, so too shall it be in civilization if intelligent life is to escape oblivion

-Conquest is a sacred rite, one which allows the great to improve the world through the elimination of their lessers. If a foe wishes to challenge me, I will meet them on the field

Unique Antipaladin Spells

1st-Hairline Fractures

2nd-Dust of Twilight

3rd-Aura of Cannibalism

4th-Beast Shape II

Thamir Gixx (from Inner Sea Gods)

Antipaladins of Thamir Gixx are mighty agents of their god’s subversive agenda, working to acquire wealth and bring down in those in power through whatever methods are open to them. Most all are halflings, and many also possess training in stealthy classes such as Rogue, Slayer, or Assassin. Their tenets include the following affirmations

-I allow no moral quandary to hold back my ambitions. Fear, mistrust, and doubt are valuable tools at my belt

-I will make my own way in the world, succeeding through my own effort and honing my own abilities. Myself is the only thing I can trust

-If a problem can be solved with death, there is no reason to needlessly complicate the affair.

-Never shall I forget the sins and slights committed against me. In time, I will take my revenge.

Unique Antipaladin Spells

1st-Illusion of Calm

2nd-Misdirection

3rd-Displacement

4th-Darkvault

Ulon (from Pathfinder Adventure Path 123)

Although they are all but extinct in this day in age, Antipaladins of Ulon were once cunning strategists and lethal agents of truth who unleashed strange, dark secrets upon the world while caring naught for the dangers their information may inflict. Their tenets include the following affirmations

-Never shall I accept any word or fact without scepticism. There is always some unknown factor at work which has yet to be uncovered

-I will seek the truth that lies within every shadow, discerning the true methods and motives of those around me.

-Although I pursue the truth, I will not share it with just anyone. Like my lipless master I will guide the world to realizations without exposing my own methods

-My faith in Ulon must never be disclosed to others, and I will fabricate whatever lies are necessary to keep my order and what we have learned hidden

Unique Antipaladin Spells

1st-Erase

2nd-Explosive Runes

3rd-Conversing Wind

4th-False Vision

Urazra (from Inner Sea Gods)

Antipaladins of Urazra are violent fanatics who indulge absolutely in the god’s belief that physical might and a mastery of violence are the ultimate determinants of greatness. Most are stone giants, and young stone giants at that, but the god of violence has acquired a following amongst both orc and human raiders. Their tenets are as follows.

-Strength is the ultimate virtue. The inheritors of the earth shall be those who can hold it longest

-No mission is more noble than to take from others what they cannot defend. To allow one mercy for their own inadequacies is to perpetuate their folly.

-Creation is the domain of weaker beings. I do not waste my time or strength upon building what I can take from others

-Caution, restraint, and civility are relics of a weak age. I have no need for them

Unique Antipaladin Spells

1st-Enlarge Person

2nd-Badger’s Ferocity

3rd-Mass Enlarge Person

4th-Giant Form I

Ydersius (from Pathfinder Adventure Path 42)

Antipaladins of Ydersius are most often Serpentfolk or other reptilian races who wish to restore their people to the glorious golden age of ancient times (it really wasn’t all that impressive). The Father of Serpents’ humanoid followers are typically assassins, politicians, and other schemers who turn to this alleged mastermind for guidance in their own plots. Their tenets include the following affirmations

-The old ways were what made us strong once and have enabled our people to survive in the darkest of times. I will cling fast to the teachings of those who came before me.

-Every blade needs a limb to guide it, just as every voice is powerless without a hand to execute its will. I fight alongside my people for our common return to dominance.

-Though I will work with my fellows as needed, I must never become reliant on them to survive. Every follower of Ydersius must serve to their utmost potential

-Never must I debase myself by treating a non-serpentfolk as a superior or equal. In time, these lesser races shall once again learn their proper place.

Unique Antipaladin Spells

1st-Anticipate Peril

2nd-Greater Scale Spikes

3rd-Sundered Serpent Coil

4th-Hellmouth Lash

Zyphus (from Inner Sea Gods)

Relishing in senseless and tragic death, Antipaladins of Zyphus wage war upon not only upon the edifices of stability propped up by gods and mortals but also the futile concept of destiny itself (a cause that I most certainly agree with, in spite of my opposition to some of these individuals’ methods). Existing among all races and cultures, Zyphen Antipaladins are among the most cruel and sadistic mortals imaginable due to the powerful purpose of their cruelty. Their tenets are as follows

-Chance is the arbiter of all things, the only certainty in this mad universe. I do not gripe of its inconvenience

-There is no plan or destiny which cannot be ruined by chance. I will prove this to all who challenge me.

-All those who enforce order upon creation, who proselytize on the significance of death or the machinations of some cosmic truth, face the edge of my blade (THIS is why I tend not to associate with these lunatics)

-I will sow death wherever I travel. The more unexpected and tragic, the better.

Unique Antipaladin Spells

1st-Ill Omen

2nd-Severed Fate

3rd-False Future

4th-Curse of Unexpected Death

Apep, Groetus and the Outer Gods/Great Old Ones

Antipaladins of Groetus, Yog-Sothoth, Cthulhu, and all those other cosmic entities whose concern for humanity or morality is so minimal it cannot be quantified with any metaphor intelligible to the human mind are deluded if they think that their masters are going to care about how they treat their fellows or how shiny their armor is. Antipaladins of these beings do exist, but the patrons pay no attention to them and these unholy warriors typically make up some sort of bizarre code for themselves to further delude themselves that their patrons somehow value them (a rather large number of these codes involve keeping your chest perfectly shaved, wearing bright colors all the time, and avoiding anything made with peanuts, for reasons even I cannot fathom). The deity that is effectively judging your worthiness is your own pathetic sense of grandeur and self-importance, so I’m thinking that the only way to really break your oath is to develop the self-awareness to realize that nothing you do will ever get the attention of a higher being (fallen Antipaladins of the Outer Gods, on the extremely rare occasions they do emerge, tend to spend a lot of time feeling sorry for themselves).

This is not an attack on the personal character of Outer God Antipaladins. A drinking buddy of mine once upon a time was an Antipaladin of Groetus, and they deserved a death far more dignified than being thrown into deep space without any knickers.

Antipaladin variant multiclassing

A character who chooses antipaladin as their secondary class gains the following secondary class features.

Code:

At 1st level, they must follow the antipaladin's code of conduct and gains the antipaladin's aura of evil.

Detect Good:

At 3rd level, they can detect good as a 1st-level antipaladin.

Touch of Corruption:

At 7th level, they gain the ability to use touch of corruption a number of times per day equal to 1/2 their character level, dealing as much damage as an antipaladin of their character level – 4.

Smite Good:

At 11th level, they gain the ability to smite good once per day as an antipaladin of their character level – 4.

Cruelty:

At 15th level, they select one mercy from the antipaladin's 3rd-level cruelty list.

Fiendish Boon:

At 19th level, they gain a fiendish boon of a weapon as an antipaladin of their character level – 3.

Antipaladin Creatures (CR +2 or +3)

Antipaladin creatures can battle evil using smite good and heal using lay on hands, and they possesses many enhanced defenses as well (quite troublesome to take down, if I do say so myself). An antipaladin creature’s CR increases by 3 if the creature has 10 or more HD. An antipaladin creature must be chaotic evil (or lawful evil, in the case of tyrant antipaladin creatures.

Quick Rules

+2 on all rolls based on Str and Cha; can smite good† once per day (treating its HD as its antipaladin level for the purposes of damage); can use touch of corruption once per day (dealing 1d6 damage for every 2 HD it possesses instead of using its antipaladin level); gains detect good and unholy resilience (if the creature has 10 or more HD, it also gains aura of despair).

Rebuild Rules

Defensive Abilities unholy resilience (if the creature has 10 or more HD, it also gains aura of despair); Special Attacks smite good ability once per day (treating its HD as its antipaladin level for the purposes of damage); Special Qualities detect good as the antipaladin class feature, touch of corruption once per day (dealing 1d6 damage for every 2 HD it possesses instead of using its antipaladin level); Ability Scores +4 Strength and Charisma.

NOTE:

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[themilitantbaker]

SUCK IT FLAT TUMMY: WHY MARKETING EATING DISORDERS TO "BABES" IS HARMFUL AF

If this billboard strikes you as vaguely familiar, it's likely because you either saw something similar last month while in Times Square or read about the colossal internet controversy it’s generated since.

The original billboard (photographed by Sophie Vershbow) hosts a smiling model's face—placed in one of one of the world's most visited tourist attractions—holding two lollipops with the text "Got Cravings? Girl, Tell Them To #SUCKIT!" bookending her grin on a trendy, Millennial Pink background. This advertisement belongs to Flat Tummy Co., a business which, in addition to selling "tummy flattening" tea and smoothies, seems to delight in calling consumers "babes" as often as possible. In May, they launched and quickly began peddling their new “Appetite Suppressant Lollipops” or—if we were to stop mincing words—eating disorders for just $49 per month.

The pushback against these lollipops—and this billboard in particular—has been both widespread and thunderous. Pushbacks have ranged from a Change.org petition demanding its removal signed by close to 100,000 people to dozens of articles pointing out how encouraging customers to not eat adds to the already pervasive issue of eating disorders that affect approximately 70 million people worldwide

When you take into consideration that:

80% of ten-year-old girls in the US have already been on a diet

These same young girls are more afraid of becoming “fat” than they are of cancer, war, or losing both of their parents

91% of women are unhappy with their bodies and resort to dieting (even though only 5% of these women naturally have the "ideal body" represented in American media)

Diets in general easily lead to pathological dieting and then continue to progress into dangerous eating disorders (which are largely underdiagnosed from the start)

Eating disorders don't just affect cisgender women but all races, ages, sexes and genders(essentially, everyone) AND that

Eating disorders kill at least one person nearly every single hour...

… those who rail against Flat Tummy Co. have every right to be appalled. This type of advertising campaign isn't casually controversial; it's deadly.

Here's what companies like Flat Tummy Co. will never tell you, so I will: We are born with an inherent connection between our minds and our bodies—a glorious communication channel that is then systematically stripped away by our ubiquitous diet culture.

The solution to this monumental problem is NOT to suppress cravings or our appetite; this not only causes mental and physical harm, but also perpetuates the cycle of internal disconnection. Rather, the solution is to relearn how to trust ourselves and how to listen to what our bodies are telling us they need—to slowly rebuild the beautiful relationship with our bodies and brains. A relationship that was intentionally removed by companies who profit from a $66 billion dollar weight loss industry.

In light of everything mentioned above, I'd like to offer an antidote to this Baffling Billboard Bullshit.

If we are going to be posting advice-dispensing billboards that start with, "Got Cravings? Girl, ...", here’s what they could say:

The backlash against Flat Tummy Co. and their marketing choices isn't new by any means. Before the arrival of the infamously damaging billboard, preexisting criticism intensified almost a month earlier when Kim Kardashian West endorsed the newly launched lollipops.

Kim Kardashian West is, for the record, the "Top 7th Influencer" in the country and 14th largest influencer in the world, with over 114 million followers on Instagram. It's important to point out that more than 77% of her followers are under 25 and if you're wondering why this particular percentage matters, simply read on my friend. It definitely matters.

A not so fun fact: 95% of people with eating disorders are between 12 and 25. With some simple math, we can quickly deduce that, with every image she posts, Kim reaches more than 87 million people within that high-risk age bracket—87 million people who "coincidentally" are  the most vulnerable demographic when it comes to disordered eating and body image issues.

It's almost as if the CEO of the company that owns Flat Tummy Co., Jack Ross, stood in his office one day and thought, "Hmmm ... I wonder how we can cause the MOST harm to a group of people who are already the most vulnerable? ... Oh, I know, Lollipops. And let's be sure to hire Kim Kardashian to tell her young followers that they're ‘literally unreal'!"

I don't actually know who developed the lollipop pitch; but regardless, I'll be the first to acknowledge that this calculated collaboration was a powerful and brilliant business decision that hit consumers with alarming accuracy.

I also will remind you (repeatedly if necessary) that these types of sponsorships are potentially fatal to the millions of young people who inadvertently receive this dangerous messaging while scrolling through their feeds—messaging that easily could stay with them the rest of their lives.

In short and if we were to use their words?

Suck it, Flat Tummy.

When I invited the "girls" (or "babes," take your pick!) to model in these “antidotal” replacement ads, I asked them one simple question before they arrived for the photo shoot: "What is your favorite food?" The question, shown clearly throughout the images, was answered very differently by each person, but I adored the enthusiasm that it was met with by all.

I was intentional in both asking this question and in leaving it open-ended—I wanted to offer the opportunity for each person to check in with herself without limitations. Being inquisitive about what we enjoy, want or need when it comes to food is not only culturally uncommon, but discouraged (see toxic lollipop campaign mentioned above).

Hunger, also known as cravings, is our body's fundamental way of communicating that we need to eat— that we need food and nutrients to function. Food can serve other purposes as well, like addressing meaningful mental needs that we often disregard as frivolous. How I wish we would stop insisting on treating mental and physical health separately when they couldn’t be more connected!

Our cultural norm may encourage deprivation, restriction and dissociation, but it’s important that you know that there is a brilliant alternative—often referred to as Intuitive Eating.

This holistic substitute prioritizes the individual and encourages the practice of making peace with food, respecting our emotions and honoring our bodies’ unique needs. Relearning how to approach food after dedicating the majority of my life to following diets is (still!) hard as hell. But I've come to find that the road to recovering from diet culture is more than worth it.

Fortunately, there are more and more educational resources available every day to support intuitive eating, flexibility and body trust!

I highly recommended these 12 starting places if you happen to be looking for a more comprehensive and balanced way to approach health.

There is power in educating ourselves about how our bodies work and what they need, and then deciding how to best work towards understanding and respecting their requests. There is power in making decisions based on what is ideal for you, not what is best for someone else. There is power in looking at an eating disorder waiting to happen, packaged as a stylish piece of candy and saying “Hell. No.”

I am SO ready for this to become the new norm.

You are welcome to join in on the fun!

We would love to see a picture of you enjoying your favorite food (or whatever you're currently craving!) with the hashtag #SuckItFlatTummy!

You are also welcome to stay current on other cool conversations alongside an awesome group of bad-asses that all hang out here.

P.S. Flat Tummy Co., if you ever decide you'd like to rectify your billboard mistake and host something healing instead of harmful... I've got plenty of images you're welcome to use.

[ghostmartyr]

I am so sad and mad about how Isayama ruined Historia's and Ymir's story arcs and their characterizations. Two girls who have been hated just for being born and existing decide to live for themselves and for each other.... but then the other one decides that she should die and the other one decides to become a baby making machine?! That makes no sense! What happened to that promise about living for themselves? Why would Ymir suddenly decide to die?

I’m going to answer several of these in the same post. I don’t know if they’re all from you, but they are all of a similar vein, and I think having them together might help some.

So first of all, this is exactly why I have to believe there’s more to it. Because you have the two characters who are defined by their fights against fate bowing to it. Before I left the fandom, comments about the inevitability of both of their storylines were fairly common.

That is partially why they make no sense, and disregarding that is disregarding an essential theme of both characters.

The fact that it seems inevitable that Historia is doomed to have children to continue her line (even before this latest stuff, that was one of the most common criticisms of her having the happy ending of marrying Ymir), and inevitable that saving Reiner and Bertolt for two months would cost Ymir her life–

That’s what both of them are trying to fight.

“Evennow… There’s no way the three of us can make it back safely, is there?!”“There is.”

Ymir is the one who looks at impossible situations, and through the power of fuck you, gets herself and the people who matter to her out of them.

Marley stones her and will kill and rape the girl she loves. Her decision to help Reiner and Bertolt gives them an extra weapon to help that along. She calls Reiner and Bertolt small fry. They have very little influence. Helping them achieves nothing for her and gives people who began her personal nightmare a present. With how things are in Marley, it’s very unlikely that Reiner and Bertolt’s failure would have led to either of them losing their Titans; they’re too well trained.

Ymir’s sacrifice, as written, is meaningless and empty, and stands in opposition to everything about her character that has been established.

Something being “inevitable” for these two is a sign of something for them to fight, not something for them to endure.

Then we have Historia.

           I am really confused about the direction Historia’s character arc has gone. Ymir inspired Historia to live a life she’s proud of and to live for herself….only for Historia to become a tool, a baby factory???            

I have said previously that I have no issue with her agreeing to take on the Beast Titan. Jumping at sacrifice is pretty well ingrained, even with her knowing that maybe she shouldn’t. She’s brave, and willing.

She also doesn’t think.

Kristoria has zero intention of killing Daz. She still comes very close to killing him because she’s so caught up in her own personal drama of depression and death that she misses the way out. When she realizes that, she’s horrified.

Historia condemning any child to eating its mother and dying thirteen years later is bullshit. I’m not saying it couldn’t be done, but the way it’s written as of the moment, Historia gets zero thought bubbles. She is not given any agency; she’s the damsel in distress.

She’s the one who has the best understanding of what doing this to children would mean. She’s lived that life.

She is given no material about how profoundly she’s rejected exactly this in the past before it appears to happen. She’s just caught in the crossfire of inevitability. Of a new cycle of sacrifice. A figure for everyone to look at and say oh, how sad, but what did you expect.

It is a complete destruction of everything we know about her character, and it is done with no attention to how it would impact her or her emotions. She is thrust into the position of bystander in her own life.

I don’t talk about this stuff very often anymore, because I can’t talk about it without losing my temper. I can’t talk about it without remembering how deeply I hate this fandom. I can’t talk about it without remembering how fucking pissed I am about all of it.

So when I respond to this and the rest of these, I don’t want to come off as patronizing. I get it. I get it better than I want to. I get wanting to light every volume of the manga on fire, because with where the story is, it feels like everything that’s come before it is a colossal waste, and if the author isn’t going to honor his story’s internal consistency, why the fuck should I even care.

And that’s why I don’t think things are as they look.

The idea that both characters have been abandoned this thoroughly is very easy to jump to, because on the surface, that’s what’s going on. Their characters are introduced and established solely to be brought to their utter ruin.

That is not the story that’s been told so far.

It takes something like sixty chapters for us to find out how Grisha and Keith know each other. After one throwaway line. Annie and her crystal disappear outside of flashbacks for around seventy chapters.

Ymir proposing to Historia is one of the most popular gags, and it happens once. In the first chapter of the second volume. Eighty chapters later, it’s referenced.

RAB have a ton of panels dedicated to establishing their shadiness that went largely unnoticed until the reveal.

Historia’s bond with Ymir is what breaks a century of her family’s bloodstained traditions.

The chapter named after Ymir is the one where she shouts about how marching into death is fucking cowardly.

I will agree, wholeheartedly, that Ymir and Historia look to have been screwed over by the story worse than anyone else in the entire series. For all the bad things that have happened, few of them can claim to be an active regression and denial of everything the characters are as people. By which I mean none of them are.

Except, arguably, Eren’s arc and current characterization.

Which receives constant critical attention within canon itself.

Ymir and Historia’s arcs have not yet received such a spotlight.

The only thing contributing to the idea that things are not how they look–is that this story has never been told this way before. It kills people off before it betrays their character.

Historia reads Ymir’s letter and asks if that’s it.

Galliard’s introduction in human form is him being confused by Ymir volunteering to give Jaws back.

This is not a story unaware of what it is doing. Questionable material is not called out just to have a lampshade thrown on it and call it good enough. If something questionable is happening, it has always been recognized as such within the actual canon.

Ymir and Historia included.

Vaguely. With not nearly as many highlighted points as they deserve. But it has not gone unnoticed.

They’ve both, very specifically, been given a script that runs exactly counter to their themes.

Either the story’s crap and it pays no attention to itself, something that the rest of the manga argues strongly against, or something is up.

I want to believe something’s up. The alternative really is a story that doesn’t care about itself, and that has never been this story. The thought of it falling that low makes me really sad.

There’s an entire manga surrounding Ymir and Historia that says it hasn’t. This is not over yet, and until it is over, I’m going to hold out hope.

Because yeah, the writing as it is makes zero sense. It’s borderline impossible for the writing to have failed itself this badly. So:

“How often have I said to you that when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth?”

I get why that’s not a popular perspective. What’s going on with Ymir and Historia is rage-inducing. The fact that there might be a reprieve months down the line, and that being the most positive thing I can say to keep people’s hopes up… yeah. Despair and anger comes a lot easier when things are this fucked.

But I really, really don’t think that’s all there is to it.

           If Historia isn’t truly pregnant, then why does she look so miserable? I myself also hope that her pregnancy is fake, because I can’t understand why Historia would agree on becoming a labor machine and inherit the Beast Titan, when she previously refused her father’s plans about becoming a Titan. Why would she now be okay with it? Also, what about Ymir’s words to Historia about living her life with pride? Why would Historia suddenly not live her life with pride?             

Same thing, right? This backtracks on all the characterization we know, and without even a properly paced bridge showing how minds were theoretically changed. So pretty much all of the above.

As for the misery, though, one of my theories is that the house is being watched. The government is not that friendly towards the Queen. If the plan is for them to believe that Historia’s pregnant, she has to put on that skit. If the people watching believe that it’s a scheme to save Zeke’s hide/step one of the breeding program, she has no reason to look happy.

And she probably isn’t. Even if everything else was okay, Sasha just died. One of her closest friends is dead, and she doesn’t get to go to the funeral.

One of her other closest friends is off massacring people, ruining her country’s public image even further (which how the fuck, it was already terrible), and her role in this. Her mission. Is to stay on a farm, alone, helping none of them.

Historia’s always left behind, these days. She can’t go to Shiganshina. She can’t go to Marley. She can’t even go out in public or help around the farm, since she has to be gentle with her body and care for the “baby.”

She has a million reasons to feel miserable, and no one close to her seems to even give a damn. It’s implied heavily by Hange that sacrificing Historia is moved forward on the agenda thanks to Eren’s actions. Eren doesn’t appear to give a fuck. Not a single one of her friends even mentions her.

The only people talking about Historia are drunk MPs, basically calling her a slut, and bitching about the inconvenience of that; Kaya, who brings her up as a distant figure responsible for good orphan policies; and Hange, who uses her to try and spark a conversation with Eren.

As far as the plot has cared to reveal, no one alive could possibly care less about Historia and her problems.

Even if the pregnancy’s fake, that takes a toll. She’s fighting her battle, whatever it is, entirely alone. Unless we count NPC Farmer Guy. Who she constantly looks moments away from skewering with her eyes.

Of course she’s miserable.

           It’s a pity as Isayama continues to exclude Historia from the narrative as if it were nothing although I must say that this manga has a horrible tendency to the fanatical women of guys who “marked” it until Yelena is a fangirl of shit when I thought I was going to be a great character though What do you think about that? Personally I never had faith in the Yumihisu, not because of its plot, but because the Japanese mangakas always have the tendency that they all fall in love with the protagonist            

Yelena has always been a fanatical devotee of Titans. I can understand why that characterization isn’t as fun as the badass helpful one who shoots people, but Yelena’s backstory is all about looking up at Zeke (possible sociopath, routine mass-murderer) and seeing God.

This is… about the fallout I’d expect from that. She wants the person who currently wields the power of god to embrace its full glory and etc. etc. There’s a lot about that that alarms me, and I do greatly prefer Yelena as the person who’s bright, calm, and helpful over the desperate devotee, but. She follows Zeke. She views power and morality in some pretty terrifying ways. That coming across palatably is up to individual preference.

I think Yelena is still allowed to exist as her own person, though. Extreme worship can be an uncomfortable thing, especially when it’s a woman looking at a role currently fulfilled by men. Blah blah blah misogyny and not letting female characters develop unless a guy’s involved, blah blah blah media is The Worst.

Like, I won’t try to argue that’s not a thing, so it’s usually worth looking at those trappings with a healthy degree of caution.

But Yelena worships the power. She wants Eren to develop his own mind over how to use it. She looks up at these gods, and she wants to watch.

That is not an empty, sexy lampshade characterization. To be honest, it’s kind of terrifying. She’s the most pragmatic about murder among the Anti-Marleyan Volunteers. She’s aggressively against anything that might show even a hint of loyalty to Marley, even people she has close ties to.

She shoots people without flinching. She hates Marley. She’s on Eldia’s side, and what’s coming out makes it look like she’s on Eldia’s side because she sees Titans as a blessing while everyone else in the history of the planet, even Eren’s damn cult, sees devils.

You’ll find unfortunate implications in most things if you stop to look, but unfortunate implications are not the sum total of a character and a character’s arc unless things have really gone off the rails. Yelena being a fanatical devotee of gods that happen to be possessed by men does have its worrying elements, but she’s also a fleshed out character with her own agency and motivation built in. Tropes are where the story begins. If they also end there, yeah, that’s a problem. In Yelena’s case, it’s very firmly only a beginning.

As for Ymir and Historia…

We do not live in a world where trusting authors to handle femslash in mainstream media goes well. You’ll have your gems, but like. One of my favorite ships of all time, where the writers got it, where it had the best writing and best slow burn and best everything–still has one half dying the episode after they’re reunited after a season-long separation.

There are reasons for that, and I do not blame the writers for how they distributed their resources or story’s pacing (I still very much like the story, and enthusiastically dig what was done with the death).

That’s still how it went down. A great story, told brilliantly, and oh look she’s dead.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

The fact of the matter is, a story could roll out the red carpet for every single insulting trope that faces queer pairings, and check each one off the list intentionally, making it as offensive as possible, and the collective fandom consciousness would probably nod and say yeah, that sounds about right.

We have not been conditioned to trust queer ships. We probably have been conditioned to distrust their writers. It’s what makes those fandoms… kind of high-strung. I say that with as much respect as I can, because I’m definitely not above any of that, but yeah. The fandom environment for this stuff tends to be rabid hope followed by burning all concept of hope to the ground, because hope is a worthless daydream that doesn’t actually exist.

Usually because even authors who do genuinely care do not get why people are so damn cagey about this. Not getting it leads to things that feel like pretty basic, conventional tragic writing that audiences eat up, but are in fact the harbingers of fandom apocalypse.

Ymir and Historia are a beautiful story. Maybe it’ll turn out that they’ll be as screwed up as everyone’s been shouting about since 93, but everything in canon has always been respectful of how much they mean to each other.

I understand why so many people are upset and unwilling to hold out for things to be less. this. This sucks. This really, really sucks, and even if it all turns out okay, that’s months away. Optimistically.

I don’t blame anyone for being bitter, or not wanting to stick that through. I am well beyond bitter, and regularly wish I cared a little less so I could just check in once the series is over and not go through this chaos of uncertainty.

However, I do still believe that there’s room for the story that means so much to us to be respected. I do still believe that it’s not over, even if the actual ending still isn’t as happy as we want it to be.

When the writing is this explicitly destructive of everything that’s come before, there’s a story to that, and this series’ stories have always been good ones.

Told with the grace of a month-old puppy, which is what we’re experiencing now, but still ultimately worth experiencing.

The active pursuit of doom and gloom in the manga has always been used to kick off an arc. So far, light has always shone through in the end.

Nothing’s broken beyond repair yet, even if it feels that way.

[imagine-loki]

Winter's Hearts

TITLE: Winter’s Hearts CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 24/? AUTHOR: nekoamamori ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine being Loki’s old friend/Lover in Asgard, but you left for Earth a long time ago. For all he knows, you might be dead, but you’re still alive and you’ve been working with SHIELD and/or the Avengers. RATING: T NOTES/WARNINGS:  Also on AO3: Click here

    The sound of the door to Loki’s suite opening woke you. You disregarded the sound at first. The maids did come in to clean after all. They were usually quieter, but maybe the maid was new… You pressed your lips against Loki’s forehead; he was still curled safely in your arms, his head on your chest, and settled to go back to sleep.

    You had decided to disregard the sound until you heard the person stumble into the end table in Loki’s sitting room. You had positioned that end table just ever so slightly in the way ages and ages ago. It was designed so that someone unfamiliar with the room would stumble into it, giving you warning if there was an intruder. The maids all knew, any maid ever assigned to work for the princes wasn’t new, and would have been warned to watch out for that particular end table. They were used to the eccentricities of the Valkyries and the lengths you went to protect your charges.

    You were on your feet in an instant, wings ripping through the back of the tunic you’d stolen from Loki, and dagger in hand. You saw the intruder the second you entered the sitting room. She was cursing softly and trying to set the end table back on its feet. You recognized her and she looked up at you as the lights came on, activating at your presence. “Loki! You should have told me-” she started, standing again to face you, thinking you were Loki. Of course she did. Most people didn’t remember you yet. She stopped speaking when she saw you, an angry Valkyrie, wearing nothing but Loki’s tunic, but looking ferocious with your jet black wings spread to shield Loki’s bedroom, and therefore the just-stirring Loki, from her view, and a dagger in hand. She dipped a curtsy. “Lady Valkyrie,” she greeted you politely, scared now. Good.

    “What business have you with my charge at this early hour, Lady Delia?” you asked her coldly. It was within your rights to challenge her, especially for entering Loki’s private chambers without permission, and the hour was early. It wasn’t quite dawn yet.

    “With all due respect, Lady Valkyrie, my business here is none of yours,” she replied more bravely than she obviously felt. You could see that she had remembered you, though, but still, she was choosing to face off against you. Idiot. “I am looking for Loki, I have an urgent matter to discuss with him,”

    You glared at her. “Loki is unavailable. I can assure you, Lady Delia, whatever urgent matter you have with my fiance, you may take it up with me instead,” you told her just as coldly. You had a feeling what this was about. She wanted a relationship with your Loki.

    “Fiance? But-” she protested, her charade of bravery dropping. “Before he and Thor went to Jotunheim…”

    You softened your expression then for the poor idiot girl. Loki was right, the court ladies were feathered-headed morons. It had been years since they had dated if what she was saying was true. Granted, that had been true for you as well, but your case was different. “I’m sorry if you thought you could rekindle your relationship,” you told her gently. You heard her thoughts, though you hadn’t tried to. She was projecting her anger at you, her anger that her plot was destroyed. She hadn’t cared for Loki, just wanted power of dating a prince. Stupid court girl. Loki never would have fallen for that for a relationship. You caught the memory of him breaking things off. It was a harsh breakup, and he had flat out told her that he wasn’t interested in power hungry bitches, though he had been kinder than that even in his anger. “Leave now, Lady Delia. You’re not welcome here,” you warned her firmly. Sometimes you were too nice for your own good and gave people a chance to behave properly.

    She glared at you. “You’re a bitch, Kyrie, always have been, keeping proper court ladies from wooing the princes. Thinking you’re above the rest of us… The Valkyrie are nothing more than slaves to the throne,” she snarled. You rolled your eyes, vanished your dagger and strode over to her. She cringed back from you.

    “Insult me all you like, Delia,” you told her as you grabbed her arm and hauled her from the room. “You’ve always been power hungry and scheming. It won’t work this time,” you told her firmly while she spluttered and protested and told you quite firmly to ‘get the fuck off of her’. You dragged her over to the nearest guard in the hallway, outside of Loki’s suite, down the hall just a little way. She must have snuck past him in the first place.  “Before you get any ideas to try messing with Thor either,” you growled at her softly.

    You turned your attention to the guard, who bowed to you. It didn’t matter that you were barefoot and wearing nothing but a stolen tunic with holes in the back from where your wings had burst through. You were still a Valkyrie of Asgard and your attire did not determine the honor your station drew. In fact, most times an angry Valkyrie in pajamas was more terrifying, since since was likely in personal service and her charge had been actively attacked.

    “Sir, it has come to Lady Delia’s attention that court life does not suit her. Will you see that she is removed from the palace and court at once?” Delia protested the treatment, cried that you were being unfair, that she was just trying- You glared at her and she stopped her complaining. “Either remove yourself from court life and never return, or I shall have you sent to the dungeons for your crimes against the prince of Asgard.” You were within your powers to do that. She had snuck into his rooms with ill intentions, no matter what she claimed, she was planning on using him. You were being nice by just exiling her from the palace and court. It was apt punishment for her. She’d have no power outside of the court.

    “It will be done, Lady Valkyrie,” the guard told you with a formal bow, right hand over his heart. He took Lady Delia’s arm.

    “Thank you,” you told the guard and swept back to Loki’s suite.

    He was still in his bed, moaning softly and curled into a very miserable ball, trying to hide from the light. Poor hungover thing. You smiled and went to him, climbing back on the bed. “Morning, darling,” you told him gently. He whimpered and looked flushed and pathetic. “What have we learned about playing with Thor’s idiot friends?” you asked as you placed your glowing green fingertips against his temples. You’d had to learn this spell a long time ago. Thor’s idiot friends liked to get themselves and everyone around them viciously drunk, which led to equally vicious hangovers.

    “Not to,” he grumbled. You laughed and leaned down to kiss his forehead, letting your lips momentarily turn Jotun blue to send ice through him and cool the flush from too much of Volstagg’s good alcohol.

    “Correct, love,” you told him gently. You finished your spell and he finally sat up, though was still a little shaky looking. You handed him a glass of water. He smiled at you gratefully. “I also owe you a new tunic,” you told him, gesturing to your wings and the holes in the back of his tunic.

    “Don’t worry about it, I have plenty,” he replied dryly. “Would you care to tell me what that was all about?” he asked. He hadn’t been in a state to really understand what the interruption had been this morning.

    “Lady Delia thought her advances would be welcome,” you explained dryly, rolling your eyes.

    He flushed. “Ah.Yes, well she was mistaken. I-” he started, flushing even more deeply. He didn’t want to admit he’d had other relationships.

    You huffed. “Lohk, I’m not stupid enough to think you hadn’t had any relationships while I was exiled. I am surprised you entertained the thought of having one with that power hungry bitch,” you added with a smirk.

    He rolled his eyes. “It wasn’t exactly an… intellectual relationship,” he admitted. You laughed. He had used her just as much as she was trying to use him. Probably just a pretty face for balls. “And short lived at that. Having an escort for court functions was not worth spending time with that power hungry…” he stopped and sighed.

    “Well, she won’t be troubling you again,” you told him with a grin.

    He raised an eyebrow. “What did you do?” he asked suspiciously.

    You laughed. “Just had her exiled from court. Don’t worry, I didn’t splash the walls in her blood,” you added.

    He shrugged. “That would have been within your rights, but the blood is so very tedious to get off of the walls and the maids get so upset seeing it,” he lamented, making you laugh again. You kissed him gently.

    “I’m going to get a bath before breakfast. Feeling better?” you asked. He still looked a little flush. You reached up a hand to touch his cheek.

    He took your hand and kissed it. “I’m fine, darling, better than I deserve after playing with Thor’s idiot friends last night. Thank you, as always, for everything.” He was thanking you for saving him from the unwanted advances of Lady Delia, from Thor’s idiot friends, and for your hangover cure. He kissed you lightly. “I’ll brush out your wings for you after your bath,” he told you warmly.

    “Thank you.” You flushed a little, knowing that he wanted to do something nice for you after you’d helped him so much this morning, and dragged his drunk ass to bed last night. It always seemed strange when he took care of you, but it warmed your heart when he did. Your maids could, and did brush out your wings as part of their duties, but Loki preferred to do the task himself. He insisted that it needed to be done correctly. He just wanted to take care of you. You kissed him again and stood from the bed. You strode through his sittingroom, straightened the end table back to its position just in the way, and opened the door to slip across the hall to your own rooms.

    The rooms had been aired out and cleaned. Fresh flowers had been placed in the vases around your suite and the rooms smells like them, just as they should. You couldn’t help smiling. It was home again. You found the maids had drawn you a bath. You weren’t surprised that they had known. The maids were always fantastic and somehow knew exactly what was needed. You soaked for a long time, relaxing at the feeling of home.

    “Kyrie-love?” Loki’s voice as he stepped into your suite. He knew better than to come in without announcing himself, though you knew him so well that his presence wouldn’t startle you.

    “Just a minute!” you called and rose from the bath. You dried off quickly, used magic to dry your hair and dress in a simple blue backless tunic and black leggings. You flapped your wings a couple of times to get the water off of them.

    Loki was waiting for you in your sitting room, looking over the text you had been translating the day you were exiled. “I wondered where this text went,” he grumbled when you stepped up behind him and kissed his cheek, wrapping your arms around his waist. “I searched the palace everywhere for it,”

    “You’re adorable as ever absorbed in your ancient texts, love, but we do have breakfast to get to. Your mother will want to see you,” you reminded him. He set the text aside.

    “You’re right as usual,” he replied warmly as he stood. He steered you toward the ottoman in your sitting room. “And distracting as ever from allowing me to take care of you,” he teased. You stuck your tongue out at him, but let him push you down onto the ottoman. He sat on the couch behind you. You spread your wings and melted in pleasure as he began to carefully and gently brush them out for you.

    “You could let the maids do this,” you reminded him softly while he worked. He was a prince and above such menial tasks.

    “I enjoy it, darling,” he replied warmly, just as he always had. “And those lovely moans of pleasure are adding to my delight. I shall have to come up with other ways to get you to make them too,” he chuckled, amused. You flushed and looked over your shoulder at him, your wings fluttering unconsciously in embarrassment.

    “Sorry…” you murmured, embarrassed. He laughed and kissed you lightly.

    “Cool that charming blush, little Valkyrie. I enjoy seeing you happy,” he reminded you warmly and offered you a hand to help you to your feet. “Shall we? You are correct that Mother wishes to see us for breakfast. I’m sure Odin and my idiot brother will be there as well,” he added with an eyeroll. You took his hand with a laugh and stood, folding your wings against your back as you did. He enjoyed seeing the wings, so you didn’t vanish them right away, besides, the Valkyrie wearing their wings was a common sight here. You summoned your dragonfang blade in its sheath and strapped it to your side. “Kyrie-” Loki started, but knew that you wouldn’t go around the palace with him unarmed, even if you weren’t in uniform. The uniform of your armor wasn’t necessary except at truly official functions. Breakfast wasn’t an official function.

    You gestured Loki from the room and followed him, automatically assuming your place beside him on his left, a single step behind. He smirked at the automatic return to normalcy and offered you his arm. You smiled and took it carefully. You could maintain your proper position and he could claim you in front of the entire court. You had walked exactly like this together through the halls of the palace for fifty years before you’d been banished.

    People looked at you as you walked to breakfast down in the great hall. You and Loki were chatting about light topics as you walked, but you caught the glances, stares, and whispers of people who were suddenly remembering you. You tried to ignore them, but your grip tightened on Loki’s arm as the people questioned why you had been banished and why Odin would dare let you return now. Loki gave you a smile, trying to reassure you. “Fear not, dearest, the story will blow over. Mother will inform the court of the true story,”

    “Your Mother is quite formidable,” you agreed. You finally made it to the great hall and took your seats at the head table after making your greetings to Odin, Frigga, and Thor. Odin was looking worse for the wear. You couldn’t see any physical damage, but Frigga had been awfully upset with him yesterday and you were quite sure that she had beaten some sense into him. Or ripped him a new asshole for making her son sad. He was looking like sitting was uncomfortable.

    Frigga stood after glaring at her inept husband. He should have been making this announcement to the court. “Yes, the princes have returned for a short visit,” she announced to the members of court who had joined you all for the early breakfast. “With them has returned Y/N of the Valkyries. She was sent to Midgard a great many years ago and has returned to her position as personal Valkyrie to Prince Loki with full honors and commendations.” Frigga’s words were careful, sticking to facts that wouldn’t look bad for anyone involved. She made it sound like you had been gone on a mission for the crown. You didn’t fault her for it, she had to protect the crown’s reputation. “I would also like to take this opportunity to formally announce the engagement of Prince Loki and his Valkyrie Lady Y/N,” she announced and grinned brightly at you and Loki. You stood to the cheers of the crowd, nodding to accept their applause. Loki wrapped an arm around your shoulders and turned you to kiss you, claiming you in front of the entire court as his. Even though not all of the court had breakfast in the great hall, word of Loki’s engagement would spread like wildfire. You bet it would be less than an hour before the entire palace knew you were engaged.

    “So, darlings, how long are you staying?” Frigga asked you, Loki, and Thor when the cheers had died down and you were seated again. Odin had stormed off claiming he had work to do.

    “We cannot stay long, Mother,” Thor reminded her. “We did arrive here unexpectedly…” he reminded her with a smile. That was her fault, she had summoned you by the Bifrost without warning. “Our teammates will be wondering where we are and worrying over us,”

    “But you’re doing alright on Midgard?” she was concerned. “I hate that you’re all so far from home…”

    “We’re fine, Mother. We will come home for a proper visit soon,” Loki reassured her. “Besides, had I not gone to Midgard with Thor, I would still be unjustly imprisoned in the dungeons and would never have found Kyrie again,” he added and kissed your cheek.

    “You were grounded?” you asked with a teasing smile. You’d been grounded to the dungeons on numerous occasions over the years. Enough that Frigga and Odin had specifically set aside cells for you and Loki, though sometimes you just got chucked in his cell with him to make sure you were out of trouble in the same place. You’d had a problem with tricks and mischief…

    “For New York. Odin thought it proper punishment,” he rolled his eyes.

    “Ah, yes, punishment for mind control, how proper,” you replied with as much sarcasm in your tone as you could. Loki laughed and relaxed. He hated having New York brought up.

    “Oh, darling, would you mind?” he changed the subject and lifted his left hand, displaying the tracking glyph you had left on his skin yesterday. You had neglected to remove it when you found him, since he had been in an awful state and you’d had to get him to bed. You’d forgotten to remove it since. The morning had started with excitement after all.

    “Sorry,” you replied with a smile and brushed your thumb over the glyph, removing it from his skin with magic. Frigga was smirking at the display. Loki probably could have removed it himself, but he left it to you to do, since you’d placed it in the first place, and had placed it for his safety. He still hated having it on him, though. He always had, no matter how pragmatic it was when Thor’s idiot friends were around.

    “Surely you can stay for the day at least? Midgard can surely survive without you that long,” Frigga asked. “I have missed you my children.” She looked over the three of you and it warmed your heart that you were, as always, included among her children.