#we even reached a conclusion with mutual understanding of each others positions and reasonings

[constantvariations]

My scavenge for screenshots that I might use in an upcoming video essay led me to Lilith Fairen’s blog where, lo and behold, she apparently saw this post of mine and decided she had to talk about it

That’s an interesting way to say “the blog has me blocked, so I can’t reblog the OG post.” Fairen, you know what a block means, right? It means I don’t consent to you being on my damn blog. So either you don’t understand what boundaries are or you think it’s okay to ignore them so long as it’s the right kind of person you’re invading. Neither of which reflect well on you

[shaakyhaands]

Okay but when are Avari and Qelsum going to realize they’d be stronger together? A team up between those kingdom and they could probably take the entire magical realm.

Deadass. Yes, their kingdoms have histories of animosity against each other. But from an outsider’s perspective, 1. Toa and Guy have more in common than they do differences, 2. They are in positions of power where they can directly interact with that history and influence the future. The two of them are at the exact intersection of individual personality and macroscopic situation where, with an ounce of insight (and honestly, a lot of therapy)— they could bury the hatchet.

In Toa’s route, we see him start to be his own person, as opposed to being solely what his family wanted. In guy’s route, we see the Avari crown price become less severe in his judgment, and more open to communication.

Take both of these changes and put them in the same story. Reconciliation is a reasonable conclusion.

As Toa gets more in touch with how he feels about his own family situation— realizing Avari’s upbringing much mirrors his own makes him more empathetic. Hesitantly, he starts to reach out in small ways, testing the waters, gathering more information to work from. He’s already broken several old walls of his, what are a few more? Curious, Toa questions even more of the old stories he came to believe about himself. Does he really have to compare himself to Guy, and base his value as a person on how he stacks up? If he is Toa Qelsum, not Toa of Qelsum, then what about Guy? Has he ever evaluated the man on the merits of himself? Has he ever even considered the question? Does he know who Guy Avari, not Guy of Avari, would be? No, he realizes. And so he investigates.

Before, Guy might not have been receptive to such attention from Toa. He’s have froze him out. Insult him as a way to create more distance between them. He would’ve worn the “Guy of Avari” moniker as a defense, because people getting to know him, the real him, is dangerous. Especially Toa.

But in this route? Guy’s mellowed out, a little. He’s still a cantankerous asshole, don’t worry. But he’s a cantankerous asshole whose a bit more willing to hear others out. Honestly, he probably thinks Toa is up to some scheme, at first. Definitely suspicious, Guy decides to interact anyways. He starts out more standoffish, really falling back on that cold and aloof persona he’s crafted over the years. But Toa doesn’t react like he usually does, and that gives Guy pause. No frosty glares from the Qelsum crown prince? Genuine responses, not perfect, rehearsed scripted lines? Because Toa displays that vulnerability, Guy feels more comfortable to do the same.

Tentatively, their conversations become more frequent, and less hostile. The insults become more like ribbing, banter. Bonding over mutual shit experiences, commiserating about pressure and expectations, they realize there are few people capable of understanding them as well as one another.

“They truly compared you to me?”

“You didn’t know?”

“I’d heard rumours, but…”

Guy trails off. It’s silent, until he speaks up again.

“No wonder you carry a such a formidable sense of determination about you.”

And thus, an unlikely friendship forms.

And that’s it. That’s the key: Their friendship. By seeing eachother as people, they are able to continue on in peace. The past is still the past. It cannot be discounted, and it shouldn’t be discounted. That being said, the history between their kingdoms was written by their predecessors, with their own relationships to one another. As princes, and eventually, as kings, they will have the same agency as their predecessors to decide the course their lives will take. And if achieving peace, friendships, and harmony is an option— well, why wouldn’t they do that?

[blogaida2]

About “Analyzing Interesting Contents from Denny Ja’s 38th Elected Work: Then they pray Friday at the Church”

In the world of Indonesian literature, Denny Ja has long been known as a creative and innovative writer. His work often lifts attractive and controversial friends. One of his 38th chosen works, “Then they pray Friday at the Church,” became our main focus in this analysis.    In this short story, Denny JA displays an unusual and attractive situation. Imagine, a group of Muslims who usually performed Friday prayers at the mosque, this time decided to carry it out at the church. This concept directly arouses our curiosity and makes us want to know more about the reasons behind this decision.    In this work, Denny JA explores a very different cultural and religious meeting. He shows that even though the difference exists, we as humans can reach agreements and respect each other. In a complicated and tense situation like this, Denny JA managed to show how important it is to understand and respect the beliefs and cultures of others.    One of the other interesting things in this story is a living and complex character. Denny Ja carefully created a figure who has a different background and has an interesting internal conflict. This gives a deeper dimension to the story and makes us emotionally connect with them.    In addition, Denny Ja’s writing style in this work also deserves thumbs up. He uses simple but effective language in telling stories. The use of regular dialogue and living descriptions makes us feel the presence and atmosphere of the places depicted in this story.    In the Indonesian social and political context, this story also has a strong relevance. This work raises the issue of religious tolerance which is very important in our society. Denny Ja shows that despite religious differences exist, we can live side by side with peace and mutual respect. In the midst of conflict and tension that often arises, this work gives a positive and inspiring message.    In addition, “then they pray Friday at the Church” also highlighted the importance of inter -religious dialogue. Denny Ja illustrates how open and honest communication can overcome misunderstandings and encourage peace. This is a very relevant message in the midst of polarization that often occurs in our society.    In the conclusion, Denny Ja’s elected work 38th, “then they pray Friday at the church,” is an interesting and inspiring story. By combining elements of cultural, religious, and social elements, Denny Ja succeeded in creating a work that builds understanding and tolerance between us. Through a living and complex character, he invites us to see diversity as wealth and build dialogue that strengthens unity. This work not only provides entertainment, but also provides valuable and relevant messages to our society.    Thus, “Then they pray Friday at the Church” is evidence of expertise and creativity of Denny Ja in presenting a charming and boring work. We hope that the next work from Denny Ja will continue to inspire and stimulate our imagination.

Check more: Analyze the interesting content of the 38th elected work of Denny JA: “Then they pray Friday at the Church”

[captains-simp]

hiii can you please do a 1) Angst with Nat where shes the one saying 'please dont go' because she pushed u away out of fear of either unreciprocated feelings or fear of her feelings for u?? and then there's a happy ending???

"Please don't go."

Warnings: oral, fingering, thigh grinding, hints at overstimulation, rejection, violence and some majorrrr angst

6.8k words

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Natasha Romanoff was the thing of many people's nightmares. Cunning, stealthy, ruthless. Those were just a few of the things that came to mind when describing Natasha in the field. It was what had earned her the Black Widow name, and rightfully so.

But behind that front was someone very different. It took a long time to find that person. It was hard to gain the trust of an assassin, much less the friendship. You had gotten there eventually, what you found was entirely worth every second of the wait.

Natasha had been your closest friend for as long as you could remember. You trusted her above everyone else and knew the feeling was mutual. A lot of things were with you two.

You came to the same conclusions in missions, spare of the moment and planned. You knew the best ways to comfort one another. You could even read each other like your favourite book when it was impossible for others.

It seemed almost predictable that your feelings for Natasha had been growing for a long time.

She was fiercely protective of the ones she loved. The relationships she developed were ones she held close to her heart and would do anything for. She never said it because she didn't have to.

While not being one for comforting words, Natasha would appear at your side in an instant if she thought you had been hurt in a mission or even training. Everything from checking in on you genuinely from time to time to let you rant about whatever was going on in your head to memorising your order from every kind of take out place made you feel cared for more than she could ever understand.

Maybe that was why you had fallen inlove with her.

"You are single handedly the best partner I have ever had." Natasha sighed as she laid back on her bed with her eyes trained on you. Oh how you wished she meant that in a different context.

"Likewise." You grinned as you poured some more wine into your glass and took a tentative sip.

"You usually work on a team." Natasha pointed out. "You haven't had your fair share of God awful partners yet."

"I can still recognise a good partner." You reminded and glanced down at the glass resting on your crossed legs.

Saying Natasha was good was the understatement of the year. No matter what she seemed to think the redhead was the reason for your success on the mission. All you had done was follow her instructions and reenact everything you had trained.

"Still, that was one of the best missions I've ever been on."

"You make it sound like you enjoyed it." You teased.

"I love my job." Natasha smirked as she took her glass from the bedside table and swirled the liquid around.

"I bet you do, must be easy when you're one of the best." You complimented more easily with the help of the alcohol.

"I like a challenge every now and then." She said as she sat up and tucked her legs under her. She downed the contents of her glass in a second and went to pour some more. Your eyes widened slightly but you accepted when she held the bottle out for you and poured a little more than you would have, finishing the bottle.

"You can challenge yourself in safer ways you know." Even if Natasha was one of the most feared agents on the planet she was still human. You worried about her a lot and tried to voice your opinions on mission files to ensure she did things the safest ways. She was always more set on doing things the most efficient way.

"Like what?" She enquired.

"I don't know, get a hobby." You laughed, hardly joking. A hobby was something everyone on the team needed, there was hardly ever the time.

"A hobby." Nat repeated, playing around with the thought as she said it. "I don't think I have time for that." You hummed understandably. "Do you want one?" She asked as she watched you.

"I barely have time for socialising." You scoffed and sipped on the alcohol.

"You live with us." The redhead pointed out, clearly missing your point.

"For work. When was the last time we had a movie night?" You asked. Natasha thought back to try and pinpoint a date but you kept going. "All of the parties are basically part of the job. Our schedules are all off so we rarely eat dinner together. We never really hang out anymore." You reflected with a pang of sadness.

"We're hanging out now." Natasha pointed out.

"We are." You couldn't help the smile that crept onto your face.

"So let's make the most of it." She said as she reached under her bed to retrieve another bottle. You barely questioned why it was there.

She poured more of the drink into each of your glasses and you clinched them together. You took a sip of yours and Natasha watched you as she raised the glass to her lips then paused for a second.

Her eyes trailed to your lips as you licked them to wipe away the traces of the drink. Your cheeks heated up under her far from subtle gaze and a lazy smirk played across Natasha's lips in her signature way.

It wasn't uncommon for Nat to flirt and tease you, she did it with everyone after all, but that night it seemed like a genuine interest, you just didn't want to fool yourself into thinking that.

You stretched your legs out infront of you simply to do something with yourself as Natasha continued to watch you mirror her position. You were startled when you felt on of her hands grip your calf and pull you up the bed towards her.

She silently took your glass from your hands and placed her glass down on the table with yours.

"What are you doing?" You asked with a smile as you tried to ignore your rapidly beating heart from having her hand on your calf and having the strength to pull you with the one hand just a second ago.

"Making the most of our time together." Natasha said simply as her hand dropped back down to your leg. Her fingers lightly ghosted up your calf again as a small smirk continued to stay on her lips.

You gulped, your mouth suddenly feeling very dry as you watched Natasha's slender fingers wander in a seemingly innocent way.

As if your dumbfounded and blank expression wasn't enough for her, Natasha suddenly sat up more and slowly lifted her leg over yours as she gave you some of the most intense eye contact you had ever experienced and straddled your lap.

You searched her face for anything and all you got was a mischievous smirk; nothing past that, no implication as to what was really happening.

"Cat got your tongue?" She teased as she ran her hands down your bare arms making you visibly shiver.

"I..." You whispered, having no idea what to say in response. Natasha lowered her head to the side of your neck and breathed lightly against the exposed skin, curtsey of the loose bun she had done for you.

"Maybe I should try steal it back." Her lips grazed your sensitive skin as she spoke. All sense escaped you when her lips pressed ever so lightly against your neck.

Her hands moved to your waist to hold you as she planted soft kisses along your neck that started to become less light. Her teeth nipped at your skin making you yelp slightly in surprise. Natasha grinned against you as her hands moved round to your stomach and pushed you down flat on your back on the mattress.

Seeing her straddling your stomach above you with an illegally attractive smirk made something undeniable go straight to your core. You clenched your thighs together subconsciously, not realising how telling the gesture was to Natasha.

She slowly leant down and hovered her face inches above yours as her hands trailed up to your own and pinned them above your head. Your breath was shaky and you just knew your friend could tell from your close proximity.

A million things buzzed around your head. Until you caught sight of an especially bright spec of green in Natasha's eyes and found yourself haulting all your questions. That was when you pushed all of your worries and questions to the side to focus on what was infront of you. Or rather who was ontop of you.

You closed your eyes and lifted your head, finally reciprocating in the way you had wanted to a while. Her lips met yours in an instant and felt even softer against your own than you had ever imagined. Your lips moved in perfect sync that you found yourself getting lost in as well as the taste of Natasha that you thought might stay with you forever.

You gasped and parted your lips when she pinched your inner thigh unexpectedly and was quietened when Natasha's tongue met yours. She sucked on it for a brief moment and grinned into you when she felt you moan.

Her lips left yours and started to kiss across your jaw before you could protest then dipped down to your neck. You tilted your head back to give her further access as you held onto her back and tried to steady your breathing.

While one hand held your waist the other stroked along your bare thigh under your dress. You closed your eyes as you struggled to competly focus on any one of the movements. You especially failed when Nat placed one of her muscular thighs between yours, forcing them apart and pressing down on a sensitive area.

You gasped as you felt her apply pressure to your aching clit with her thigh and bucked your hips against her. She chuckled lowly into your ear and held down your thigh and waist with strength that only feuled your growing arousal.

"Tasha." You moaned when the redhead bit down on your neck. Simultaneously, her hand wandered further up your thigh to explore the wanton part between your legs. She sighed deeply into your neck when her fingers brushed against wet spot on your panties.

You whined lowly when she withdrew her fingers only to flip you onto your front and straddle your back. Her slim fingers held the zip on the back of your dress dress swiftly pulled it down along with the rest of your dress.

Her hands ran along your bare back and she unfastened your bra with ease, throwing it somewhere neither of you cared about. She brought her hands back to you and caressed the exposed skin on your sides and leant down flat against you as her hands cupped your breasts. She kissed your shoulder blades as she started to pinch your strained buds. As much as you enjoyed the way she handled you, you needed attention lower down and was becoming impatient, resorting to rocking yourself against the bed in search of something.

"You're a needy thing, aren't you?" She husked, noticing your actions in an instant.

You whimpered into the bed and was suddenly moved onto your back again and stared up at the redheaded beauty who was taking in the sight of your bare breasts.

"You've got me all worked up too, baby." She said as she pulled her own dress down and flung it across the room. Unlike you, she wasn't wearing a bra under her dress giving you the sight of her perfect set. Your own eyes lowered and your breath hitched at the sight of her bare pussy. For a moment you questioned if she had it all planned, but she was straddling your face before you could think about it anymore.

She certainly wasn't lying when she said she was worked up, she was soaked.

With a burst of confidence, you grabbed the back of her thighs and lowered herself onto your tongue that swiped through her folds. You hummed at the initial taste that enveloped your senses and sucked momentarily on her throbbing clit.

"Fuck." Natasha moaned as she pulled on some loose strands of your hair. You pushed your tongue into her awaiting cunt as far as you could go and retracted it to repeat the motion, all while your best friend grinded down on your face.

"Such a good mouth." She praised as you focused your tongue on her soaking channel.

You brought one of your hands up and rubbed Natasha's clit with your thumb as your tongue started to increase it's pace. The redhead's inner walls started to clamp down on your muscle and you took this with a new vigor.

It didn't take long for her thighs to tighten around your head and for Natasha to ride out her orgasm in desperation as you eagerly lapped up all of her cum until she got off you.

"Suck." She instructed only slightly breathlessly as she held her fingers infront of your mouth. You opened in an instant and licked up the length of her fingers before taking them in your mouth as you kept your eyes trained on Natasha.

"Good girl." She praised with a smirk when she withdrew her fingers. She straddled one of your thighs as her fingers danced down to where you needed them the most.

Her fingers slipped inside your pussy with ease. They slowly edged further until they curled against your sweet spot that made your head drop back against the bed. Natasha repeated the come here motion everytime her fingers returned but her pace remained slow and teasing.

You whined in protest but was shushed by the redhead when she pressed herself into your thigh. You gasped as you felt her slick along your thigh and the small rotations of her hips to grind herself against you.

As the pace of her hips increased so did her fingers that were returning to you at twice the pace. You moaned together as everytime Natasha's fingers hit your special spot she angled herself to brush her clit up against your muscle.

The Russian started to dig herself deeper against you and her movements became much more frantic. Her fingers became rougher and faster, never failing to make your head spin when she angled them perfectly.

"Fuck, Nat!" You moaned as your bucked your hips up against her hand.

Her movements became less coordinated as she chased her release and consequently managed to extend her fingers deeper within you making your walls clamp down harshly.

"You feel so good against my pussy." Nat moaned until she came undone on your thigh soon followed by you.

She spread her arousal across your thigh as she rode out her orgasm and kept her fingers deep inside you making you squirm under her.

Her eyes were still glazed over when she looked back down at you and saw you unsuccessfully trying to move away. An evil glint appeared in her eyes as a smirk played on her lips and she leaned down to hover over you again.

"Oh, malysh, we are no where near done."

*

You woke up to a stream of sunlight flowing into the bedroom and onto the bed. You instinctively went to shield your eyes and turn over but when you did you noticed the body laying peacefully next to you.

You let your eyes adjust and brain start to kick in until you saw the mess of red hair on the pillow next to you. You smiled widely when the memories of the night before began to come back to you.

You were both laying naked in bed with the duvet barely covering you. Natasha had her back to you so you reached out and gently stroked a finger across her shoulder blades. Her shoulders tensed slightly as she gradually woke up and you were reminded of how much you pushed your bodies to the limit. You were feeling kind of sore too.

"Good morning." You greetee with a tired continuous smile and scooched over closer to her only for her to sit up without looking at you.

"Morning." She replied stiffly. You frowned a little in confusion and glanced over at her alarm clock to see how late it is and go to get up too. You had a team meeting that morning that you definetly couldn't miss.

You didn't really know what to say to her when you were finding your clothes. She didn't say anything either but the silence didn't feel right. Not awkward, just not right.

You kept glancing over at her but she never faced you when she was quickly getting changed into clean clothes.

You looked over at the clock again nervously. Half an hour until the meeting. Need to have a shower, clean clothes, breakfast? No, no time. Talk to Natasha?

You really had no clue what to say to the redhead you had spent the night in and it definelty didn't help that your brain hadn't fully kicked in yet.

"So I'll...see you later then?" Smooth, y/n.

"Yeah." Nat said back as she searched for something in her drawers. You nodded and awkwardly pointed to the door and practically ran towards it. The moment you were on the other side of the door you smacked yourself on forehead and started to think about what to say to your best friend.

*

Throughout the whole of the team meeting Natasha didn't look at you once. Even in the most important meetings she would shoot you a smile every so often or kick you lightly if she knew you weren't paying attention. But she never even acknowledged you in that one.

Granted, the mission brief was one of the most important ones the team had ever had while you had been there. It wasn't for a couple of weeks because an operation like that one required a lot of planning, preparing and paperwork to fill out before it had even started.

It was the single biggest Hydra base there was. It was the heart of all Hydra operations and that meant there was a lot to do. All Hydra agents needed to be captured or killed, all data and information they had needed to be taken and the place needed to be destroyed.

The meeting dragged on for a long time and eventually you were all told to leave and continue as normal until the mission. You planned to walk out with Natasha but she had disappeared before you got the chance.

It was like that for the rest of the day. You never saw your friend and everytime you asked someone where she was she was never where they said. It felt like you were going on a wild goose chase for her between training and eating.

Eventually though, you finally found her in the kitchen late in the evening making herself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. She saw you approaching and tensed up without you noticing as you nervously approached, practising what had decided to say to her over in your head.

"Hey." You smiled, eyes trailing to the snack she had prepared as you remembered the time you lectured her on doing it wrong and corrected her. She had insisted you couldn't make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich wrong, but always did it your way after that.

"Hi." She said as she cut the sandwich in half and went to make a swift leave.

"I've been looking for you all day." You half laughed as you moved to stand infront of her.

"I've been busy." She replied and went to move around you.

"Yeah." You laughed nervously again as you followed her.

You had never really been one to shoot your shot or make the first move. It was awkward and uncomfortable even if you ended up lucky. You had never wanted to risk screwing everything up.

You could manage the bottled up feelings most of the time. You always chose that over some form of confrontation. Those were just small, passing crushes. Natasha Romanoff was far from that. And given everything that had happened the night before, you were sure you had a chance - more than a chance.

"So last night was great. More than great actually." You corrected as you managed to keep up with her fast strides.

"I'n glad you enjoyed it." She said simply.

"Did...did you?"

"Yes."

"Cool, so um I was thinking- well I was wondering if you would want to go out sometime." You started as you fiddled with your fingers. "I know you're busy so it doesn't have to be right away- or at all of course! Totally up to you, we could just get a drink or a meal." You rambled, going completly off script. You could feel your heart beating rapidly in your chest as you caught sight of Natasha's room. She stayed silent for a while and you started to suspect you should have kept your mouth shut.

"Look, y/n." Oh God. "Last night wasn't...we were drunk." She started.

"No we weren't." You instantly said and winced at your frantic reply. "I mean we were tipsy at the very most." You corrected and hoped it overruled your desperate comment prior.

"Right, but it wasn't anything serious." Oh fuck. "We were just messing around and celebrating." She said slowly as she reached her door and grabbed the handle, clearly wanting to leave the awkward convosation.

"Oh...yeah of course. I knew that." You lied. "I just thought...yeah never mind- sorry." You rambled again and scratched the back of your neck.

"It's alright." She said looking at her door longingly. "See you tomorrow, y/n." She finally said.

"Yeah, goodnight, Nat." You said back and heard the door shut as soon as you turned around.

Fuck!

*

Natasha was a generally very mature person. That meant she could put aside personal differences for her job and move past disagreements and resolve tension for the sake of the friendships she developed and treasured. It seemed that didn't apply to you.

You understood that the redhead would want space for a few days. Time was the best thing you could give to allow yourself to pick up the pieces of your heart to reassemble eventually and for Natasha move past what you said.

A week past and Natasha still avoided you like the plague.

That drastic change was one you had never prepared yourself to adjust to. You had been so confident that Natasha felt the same way, it was the one time you didn't plan for rejection. That made it even harder. One moment you and Natasha were practically joint at the hip and the next you were rarely in the same room.

Everytime she went into a room and saw you there she made some excuse about forgetting something and didn't return. If it was you who arrived in a room she was already in she would mutter something about being busy and having things to do.

That meant Nat started doing things like training in the evenings or early night just to avoid you. It was a miracle if she ate a meal with the others too. Her whole schedule changed drastically.

The others noticed pretty quickly. All of it. Natasha's strange routine was just as clear as her separation from you. No one really wanted to say anything, thinking that any issues you and Natasha had could be solved by yourselves. But with the mission fast approaching and there being no signs of things returning to normal, Steve decided to talk to you.

You knew it was Steve at your door by the softness of his knock. Everyone on the team could determine who was outside their door by their knock, it didn't seem possible but it was your equivalent of knowing which family member was coming up the stairs.

"Come in, Steve." You called as you flicked through Netflix. It was late in the evening and you were trying to unwind before bed but you were still haunted by the memories of screwing up your friendship with Natasha.

"You alright?" He asked as he closed the door and joined you on the bed that sunk a little under his weight.

"Never better." You said sarcastically before smiling a little at him, you knew he meant well.

"What's going on with you and Nat?" He asked. You paused you mindless scrolling through the TV as you felt the pain in your chest return.

"I messed it up, Steve. I messed it all up." You admitted as you started to shake.

"Hey." He comforted as he saw tears form in your eyes. He put his arms around you and let you lean into him and rest you head on his shoulder.

"I don't know how to fix it." You babbled.

"Fix what?"

"Us. I think she hates me."

"Nat could never hate you." He assured making you cry a little harder.

"She won't go near me." You argued

"What happened?" He asked again patiently.

"She knows. She knows I like her." Steve chuckled softly and continued to hold you.

"Y/n we all know. It doesn't take a spy to work it out." You sniffed with a smile and wiped the tears away as you leant away from him to look at the blonde.

"I asked her out." You said.

"That was a brave thing to do." He defended despite clearly knowing how it turned out for you. You decided to leave out the reason you worked up the balls to do it.

"I don't think she thinks so." Steve sighed as he looked at the TV in consideration.

"Maybe, but she will eventually."

"How long will that be?"

"It's hard to say with Nat, but eventually. You could try talk to her again?" He suggested.

"Have you been missing how she avoids me like I'm her worst nightmare." You deadpanned.

"You let her know you care about her a lot, you're not far off." You thought for a moment about how right Steve was. Nat never did like intimacy, but she never had a problem with it if it was you. "And she may be a spy by we have a security room." He pointed out and you smiled again.

"Okay." You agreed. "Tomorrow." You decided, knowing there was a lot higher chance of you actually going through with it if you had already told Steve you would.

"Okay." He smiled back and stood up from the bed and went to leave.

"Have you talked to her?" You suddenly asked.

"Seems like she's avoiding everyone."

*

You surprised even yourself when you found yourself in the security room the next day in the late evening. It didn't take you long to flick through all the cameras and spot Natasha training with the holograms.

You made your way down to her quickly, trying to figure out at least the outline of what you could say to her. Nothing really came to mind when you tried to piece it together.

When you arrived she was focused on throwing an onslaught of punches at a punching bag that honestly looked like it was on the verge of being torn in half. It made you strongly consider backing out when you saw her like that. You just hoped that state of mind wouldn't come across in your convosation.

"Hey." You croaked making the redhead spin around with her guard still up. "Sorry! I didn't mean to scare you." You assured as you took a tentative step towards her.

"You didn't scare me." She defied, annoyance present in her voice.

"I guess if you can be pranked by Clint that many times and not be scared nothing will scare you." You joked in a futile attempt to lighten the mood. It didn't work.

The redhead stayed silent as she adjusted the straps on her gloves. You thought she would pack up her things and leave but she went back to the punching bag and blanked you.

"Are you gonna ignore me forever?" You sighed. She paused her punches for a second before turning to look at you for the first time in over a week.

"I'm not ignoring you."

"We haven't talked in a while." You said, choosing not to argue over the fact that yes she definetly had been ignoring you.

"I've been busy." Her expression was stoic as she looked at you and it made you uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry for making things weird. But we can move past it. I can so you definitely should. Just because you don't want to date me doesn't mean you get to treat me like this, it's not fair on me and its not fair on the team." You breathed deeply when you finished and averted your eyes as you grew more uncomfortable from the confrontation.

"That's just the thing, y/n." Natasha said as she started to take her gloves off. "You're not going to move past it. I know you, and I know you're not going to be over it in a week." You frowned at her blunt response and took a few more steps towards her.

"Get over yourself, Nat." You sighed in frustration. "It's not like I declared that I was inlove with you. And don't forget that you came onto me that night."

"Exactly, y/n. It was one fucking night. It didn't mean anything but you decided to make a big deal out of it." You struggled to push aside the ache that came from her words and the bitter way she delivered them.

"You're never intimate with anyone. So yes when you fucked me and let me fuck you I thought there might be something more to it. It's not a crime to want something more."

Nat's jaw clenched at your words. You had brought in something personal about her and she was inevitably about to put up her walls in the most hurtful way she could. You knew that, but it didn't help you prepare.

"Why can't you accept that you were just a good fuck?" She spat as she glared at you. "Definitely one that I regret." You gulped as you took in the harsh reality of her words.

"Regret?" You whispered.

"Yes, y/n. I regret it. It was a mistake, every fucking bit of it." A mistake?

You didn't say anything in response to that. You were sure that even if you could think of something it would just come out as a squeak. Nat continued to glare at you in a way you couldn't hold. You glanced down at the floor, then the walls, then the punching pad and nodded quickly. You turned around and wandered aimlessly out the room as tears fell silently down your cheeks.

*

Needless to say things didn't get any better after that encounter. The only difference was that you were mutually avoiding each other. It hurt. A lot. You never thought you would avoid Natasha like you were. You never thought she would break your heart either.

The day of the mission didn't change anything. You and Natasha were sat as far away from each other as possible.

Only the anxiety over the mission was able to overpower the tension in the plane.

Steve had gone over the brief once more in full detail on the plane and you replayed all the information in your head until you landed. Once the quinjet had engaged its cloaking tech it landed in an open area in the surrounding forest.

You all left the quinjet in a concentrated silence as you surveyed your surroundings. It didn't take long to find the first patrolling agents in the forest that were swiftly taken out as to not alert anyone else.

The whole team was scattered across the forest from four planes in a circular layout that advanced towards the Hydra base. Even some of the best S.H.I.E.L.D agents had been brought in to assist. Steve was the first to infiltrate the base and in the least subtle way. You could hear the glass smashing and loud grunts in your coms that made you wish, not for the first time, that you could adjust the volume on those things.

You knew your route. You had it memorized clearly in your head and you also knew that some of it overlapped with Natasha's. You spotted her in your peripheral as you turned a corner to shoot at two charging agents. You leant back against the wall to reload and glanced to your left to see Natasha advancing. Stay focused. You reminded yourself.

You took a quick glance behind the corner again before looking back at Natasha who had her gun raised at you with a flightly fearing expression. Your eyes widened and you went to shout at her to stop messing around but she had already fired the gun. You heard a loud grunt and a body collapse to the floor tight behind you. You swivelled around to see a Hydra agent laying in a pool of his own blood with a handgun next to him.

"Thanks." You breathed out and started around the corner. Natasha had to take another left to the supposed data room where she could collect as much as much as could. You had to keep going but felt the sudden urge to ensure that she was safe. You looked over your shoulder as she opened the door and fired two shots before swiftly entering the room with her gun still raised.

You listened out for any more shots and heard none. She's fine. She knows what she's doing. You assured yourself as you went on.

Half an hour later the building had been cleared of all Hydra agents. Many had been captured and were had many hours of interrogation ahead of them while others hadn't been so lucky. It always weighed on you for a while when you killed as many people as you did on that mission. It was hard but it was necessary. It was the job.

The price of freedom is high. You reminded yourself. The price of freedom is high. The price of freedom is h- "Agent Romanoff is down."

"What?!" You spun around to face the building to see the room Natasha was in. It was in the center of the left side because of course you remembered exactly where she was meant to be.

You instinctively started sprinting back to the building when there was a sudden bright orange and yellow light followed by a deafening boom from the exact room Natasha was meant to be in. The explosion was quick but you got a chance to get an estimate of the scale of it and if Natasha was still in there...oh God.

"Has anyone got eyes on Romanoff?!" You demanded as you stared up at the building, finding yourself rooted to the spot.

"I got her." Steve coughed painfully. "I need a medic." He announced as he ran through the building and out the nearest exit with Natasha unconscious in his arms.

Everything else faded into the background when you saw her. The building still needed to be destroyed but you couldn't care less about the mission.

You stayed at Steve's side as he carried the readhead to the plane and laid her down gently on the bench. A medic was already there waiting and was checking Nat's vitals in an instant.

You dropped down to your knees next to her and watched her face for any signs of consciousness. When you couldn't find any you gently took ahold of her hand and laced your fingers together. You took a great deal of comfort in how warm they were and how warm you were determined for them to remain. You would kill Nat if she died on you.

Yes, she had hurt you. But you were pretty sure you were inlove with her.

You didn't let go of Natasha's hand for a long time. You held onto it tightly throughout the entirety of the flight home. You kept your fingers laced together when she was being taken to the medical wing. You held her hand for a while when they had finally settled her into a bed. She looked so peaceful in that state, you hoped it felt like that for her. She was still so beautiful too, even when she had dirt and smoke all over her before you had cleaned it all off.

You only let go when Steve practically dragged you out of the room to get some proper sleep in your bed.

You had been assured by multiple people that Natasha would be fine.

She had already been unconcious when Steve found her and was able to get her out the room before the bomb went off. It still had an impact and threw them both against a wall, but they were okay. She was okay.

You visited the redhead often but never stayed for long. As much as you wanted to, you knew she wouldn't want you there when she woke up. She had made it clear before that you had lost what you had with her, you were sure the mission hadn't changed that.

One day when you approached her room you peered around the door and saw that she was already sat up and looking around. She spotted you at the door instantly.

"Sorry." You apologised and went make a swift leave but stopped in your tracks when she spoke.

"Please don't go." She called out. You slowly turned around to face her and saw a pleading look across her face that you had never seen in her before.

You hesitated for a moment until you timidly made your way to the chair next to her bed. She watched you do so silently and anxiously, like she expected you to run out any second. You honestly thought about it, thinking another lecture was coming.

"You've been out a few days." You told her without meeting her eyes. "I was worried." You mentally scolded yourself for saying it as soon as you did, thinking that wasn't what she wanted to hear.

"I'm sorry." She surprised you by saying.

"It's not your fault, you didn't throw the bomb at yourself." You smiled nervously.

"Not about that." Nat said quietly. "About everything else. I treated you so badly." The regret couldn't have been more clear in her voice. "I was just scared- and that's not an excuse! It's just the truth." She explained nervously. You listened intently as you stared at her duvet.

"I lied when I said it was a mistake. I lied when I said I regretted it. I lied when I said it didn't mean anything. It meant everything to me, y/n." She explained wholeheartedly as tears started to form in her eyes.

For a moment you couldn't quite comprehend what you're seeing or hearing. Natasha was letting down her walls competly. She was being vulnerable to you.

"I care about you so much. More than I've ever let myself care about anyone. I pushed it aside and tried to ignore it for the longest time but that night I caved and I...I don't know I wasn't thinking about anything other than how much I wanted to show you I cared for you. And when I thought I finally figured out a way to do it I couldn't face it after.

"You never did anything wrong, y/n. It was all me. I couldn't face my feelings but I can't stand not being with you. Is there..." She gulped as her hands trembled notably. "Is there any possibility of a second chance?" She whispered almost fearfully. You finally looked up at her and saw the tears running down her cheeks as she gazed at you like you were the only thing of any importance in the world.

You took her shaking hand in both of yours to steady it and yourself as you spoke. "No more running off?" You asked.

"No more running off." She confirmed.

"No more lying to me?"

"No more lying."

"No more being a pussy." You half joked.

"Definelty no more being a pussy." She laughed weakly.

"Okay then. Natasha, would you like to go on a date with me?" You asked with a smile you couldn't hold back.

"It would be my pleasure, y/n." You grinned and leaned forward to plant a soft kiss on her lips as you kept ahold of her hands. She smiled against you and when you moved back you saw the glint of happiness in her eyes.

Sure, you had done things in the completly wrong order. And yes, the journey to get there had been far from easy. But you swore that day that you would make sure everything after it was done perfectly.

It was a few weeks later on the night you shared your first 'I love you' that she confessed she had sworn the same thing. And it worked.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 8 - ao3 -

Lan Qiren’s brother did not outwardly react when Wen Ruohan announced what happened.

He merely stared, face as impassive as a stone washed clean by the river, his posture and position impeccable from the little glimpses Lan Qiren kept stealing of him – he was trying to keep his head ducked and his gaze firmly on the ground, trying to demonstrate penitence, but he couldn’t quite resist looking. He assumed that his brother’s seeming indifference was a mask for the rage he undoubtedly felt, seeing his little brother screw up what would have otherwise been a perfect discussion conference for the Lan sect.

It seemed like a reasonable conclusion, given that Lao Nie was taking up all the slack of reacting with rage without any such mask whatsoever.

“He’s little more than a child!” Lao Nie shouted.

“Little more, perhaps,” Wen Ruohan said smoothly. He was enjoying himself, Lan Qiren thought. “But regardless of how close or how far he is, he is adult enough.”

“He can’t marry or inherit –”

“He shed blood in a night-hunt, and that means he can swear oaths, which is all that’s relevant here. It isn’t as if I married him.”

“He’s sixteen! If someone removed sixteen years out of your life, Hanhan, you wouldn’t even notice the absence!”

“True, but irrelevant,” Wen Ruohan said. “And don’t call me that, Sect Leader Nie.”

“I’ll call you whatever I damn well please, you little –”

“You are unharmed?” Lan Qiren’s brother asked Lan Qiren.

Lan Qiren, who’d been spectating the increasingly fraught back and forth between the two sect leaders, turned to look at him, surprised to be addressed.

“I’m fine,” he said quickly. “I only had a headache, and Sect Leader Wen took care of that.”

“You call me da-ge now,” Wen Ruohan reminded him, turning briefly away from his argument to do so. “Your oath, remember.”

“Does he even remember swearing the oaths?” Lao Nie hissed. “You know how these Lan drink – you and your damned need for control! Just because you can’t get it one way, you have to try another, is that it, Hanhan?”

“Sect Leader Nie, if you really find it impossible to be civil -” 

“If you are unharmed, then we can return to the Cloud Recesses,” Lan Qiren’s brother said, ignoring them both. His voice was as distant and cold as a winter breeze, piercing and lifeless; it reminded Lan Qiren a little of his father, and he shivered. “We will determine the remainder at that time.”

“See?” Wen Ruohan said goadingly to Lao Nie, whose scowl only deepened. “If even his own sect doesn’t object to it –”

“They didn’t not object, they’re refraining from making a statement; it’s not the same thing. ‘Even ten years isn’t too late for a gentleman to get revenge’ – !”

“I should like to see them try.”

Lan Qiren felt a sudden sense of relief, heralded by a bright and abrupt clarity: of course Wen Ruohan hadn’t sworn brotherhood with him on his behalf! He’d only done it because he’d seen Lan Qiren together with Lao Nie, found that the sight offended his vision, and immediately decided to disrupt it. Never mind that Lao Nie didn’t have any intentions beyond the casual mentorship of any older cultivator to a junior – Wen Ruohan was well known for his paranoia, his irritability, his tendency to seize on crazy ideas. And, of course, there was his jealousy, a trait to which he had himself admitted…

A treasure sword used to prop up a table, indeed. It wasn’t about Lan Qiren's merits or the Lan sect’s supposed failings at all. The only table Wen Ruohan was concerned with was Lao Nie’s!

(And that certainly did explain the whole bizarre ‘Hanhan’ thing better than any other hypothesis Lan Qiren had come up with.)

Lan Qiren wasn’t sure it was better, exactly, to be a pawn in a strange game between sect leaders, but it was at least more familiar. As a younger son of a politically minded Great Sect, he was more like a daughter; being used for some scheme by the adults around him had always been his destiny, barring some tragedy or especially indulgent parents – the former was unlikely, the latter he lacked – and so his fate was set.

Of course, it would have been better not to be in a game involving Wen Ruohan at all, but he supposed that there were worse options.

After all, if Wen Ruohan’s primary interest was in tormenting Lao Nie, he probably wouldn’t demand Lan Qiren’s presence in the Nightless City all that often – probably just enough to show that he could – and Lan Qiren would be allowed to continue with his plans for his future. It might even turn out to be something of a benefit. After all, a musician with limited martial skills, traveling all alone, could always use strong friends that were nearby, and the Wen sect’s reach far exceeded that of the Lan sect…

Anyway, comparatively, Lan Qiren disliked far more the idea of being stuck in the Jin sect with its inexplicable devotion to worldly affairs (and when it came to Jin Guangshan, word was that that usually meant literal affairs…), and he would have undoubtedly gone utterly mad in the Jiang sect, with its emphasis on freedom and lack of any rules to explain anything. And of course, regrettably, the Nie sect wouldn't have done such a thing to begin with, secretive as they were...

No, it wouldn’t be so bad, Lan Qiren tried to convince himself. It wouldn’t be so bad at all.

The illusion lasted exactly as long as it took for the leaders of the five Great Sects to retreat to finalize their discussions on business – with Sect Leader Jiang and Jin stepping up to keep Sect Leaders Wen and Nie from each other’s throats, even as Lan Qiren’s brother ignored them all – and Lan Qiren returned to his proper place among the other Lan sect disciples.

“Did he really put you in the Fire Palace until you agreed?” one of them asked, then was promptly elbowed by at least three of his fellows – it was poor Lan Yueheng that had asked, naturally; he was extraordinarily good at mathematics and extraordinarily bad at just about everything else, including both tact and following the Lan sect rules. Lan Qiren had gotten on quite well with him in the past, each one happy to have an audience to listen to their rambling without caring too much if the other side was really listening, but Lan Yueheng was Lan Ganhui’s mother’s sister’s son, the two of them raised together like brothers, and in recent years the latter had a habit of restricting the former from spending too much time with Lan Qiren, the favorite subject of his mockery.

“No,” Lan Qiren said stiffly, and turned his face away in sudden upset. He had almost managed to forget that his new sworn brother was reputed to enjoy spending his free time torturing people, enough so that he had an entire prison devoted to it.

The older brother guided, the younger brother obeyed – what was Lan Qiren supposed to learn from Wen Ruohan? How to be cruel and pitiless, how to hurt people, how to increase his cultivation by doing all manner of dirty things?

Even if he didn’t learn such things, wouldn’t people assume it of him anyway?

“But I heard –” Lan Yueheng persisted, then hissed when someone stepped on his foot.

“No,” Lan Qiren said, stronger this time. “Do not speak behind the backs of others, Yueheng-xiong.”

“Oh. Right.”

Someone muttered killjoy under their breath, but that wasn’t exactly new; his brother thought he was one, and he was popular, so others often followed his lead - and anyway, perhaps he was. At any rate, they all stood around in awkward silence for a little while before someone decided to recount one of the incidents in the main event competition once again, their voice a little over-loud in the silence, and a perfectly anodyne conversation about Qingheng-jun’s performance started up in earnest to cover over all the things they did not say.

That, too, was not new.

Truly, life would be easier if everyone would just listen to the rules, Lan Qiren thought wistfully. The nice written-down ones, just those, and never mind about all the unspoken ones, the ones that everyone seemed to intuitively understand except for him – he tried his best to learn those, too, and to extrapolate from one situation to another, but unspoken rules seemed as changeable as a puff of cloud. It was simply impossible.

In the end, the sect leaders finished up their business and each of them took their leave from the Nightless City, just the way that always happened. Before he went, Lao Nie put his hand on Lan Qiren’s shoulder and said, “Write to me if you ever need anything at all,” while glaring at Wen Ruohan, who smirked back; Lan Qiren’s brother did not glance at either of them and merely walked off, his hands behind his back and his posture straight and tall as a tree. The other two Great Sect leaders, Jin and Jiang, exchanged glances of their own and headed off their own way without a word, choosing, quite prudently, not to get involved.

Lan Qiren saluted to Lao Nie and, slightly more hesitantly, to Wen Ruohan, then followed after his brother. To his relief, Wen Ruohan didn’t stop him, only watched him go, his eyes glittering malevolently - his gaze a palpable weight. It wasn’t quite like the first few times they’d met, where the pressure almost felt like the other man was exerting power on him; rather, Lan Qiren suspected, the weight he was feeling was only the weight of all the new expectations that had fallen onto his shoulders as a result of his new brotherhood. 

The ride home was excruciatingly awkward.

It was not a short journey, and Lan Qiren did not speak to his brother once the entire time by mutual unspoken agreement. He might not have noticed such a thing normally, but his brother’s usually cool aura was positively frigid, driving Lan Qiren to silence even when he might have otherwise spoken on mundane matters such as the weather or travel conditions.

Lan Qiren even suspected that if he had dared to try, his brother might have used the muting spell on him.

Naturally, the other disciples followed his brother’s lead – poor Lan Yueheng looked especially torn up over it, and at one point Lan Qiren found a book on abstruse geometry hidden under his pillow in what was probably a well-meaning gesture of solidarity – and Lan Qiren was stuck in that uncomfortable place where he finally had the peace and solitude he often longed for when stuck in a crowd while also simultaneously feeling awful about it, struck with a sudden desire for the company of his family, however cold it might be.

When at last they returned home in the late afternoon, Lan Qiren knew from experience what to do next: he went straight to the hanshi, where his father was waiting for their report, and knelt in penance outside. If the trip had gone well, he would have helped his brother settle the final matters relating to their trip – putting back anything borrowed from the sect’s stores, registering everyone as having arrived with no one lost on the way, that sort of thing – but since it hadn’t, his duties were limited to…well, this.

It was unpleasant, but then, it was supposed to be.

He waited for over a shichen in unmoving silence. The remainder of the sect tiptoed around him, with the disciples that had remained behind sending him sympathetic looks that suggested that they didn’t know exactly what had happened but were burning with curiosity to find out.

It was already dark by the time his brother arrived.

When he did so, he walked right by Lan Qiren without looking and went inside.

There was no written rule against eavesdropping, although there were several unspoken rules about it that were sometimes but not always applicable, but even when (guiltily) straining his ears to the utmost, Lan Qiren could only hear the vaguest murmur of voices within.

It was only after some time – towards the end of his brother’s report, no doubt – that there was a brief uptick, a surprised exclamation (possibly “what?!”, although Lan Qiren’s father was soft-spoken enough that even an exclamation was too muffled to be properly audible), and Lan Qiren braced himself.

After a little longer, the door to the hanshi opened.

“Qiren,” his father’s voice drifted out. “Enter.”

Lan Qiren got up, a little unsteady from all the kneeling, straightened himself out and walked inside, his hands folded behind his back. He would have knelt again, but his father waved for him to keep standing, frowning thoughtfully at him as his brother drank the tea they had been sharing.

“You swore an oath of brotherhood with Sect Leader Wen?” his father asked, his face frustratingly neutral.

Lan Qiren nodded, then amended: “I do not remember doing so. He offered me a toast, and would not allow me to reject it, and then the next morning, he informed me that we had sworn an oath together and showed me the written version of the oath.”

The paper in question was laid out on the table in front of his father. Lan Qiren’s brother had confiscated it after Wen Ruohan had showed it to him, and Lan Qiren hadn’t figured out a way to ask to see it, though he desperately wanted to know whether they had sworn one of the classical brotherhood oaths or if they’d added their own clauses. It seemed like a thing Wen Ruohan would do, yet the idea had only belatedly occurred to Lan Qiren, which meant he hadn’t properly examined the oath while he’d had the chance.

His father hummed thoughtfully.

“There’s no reason to doubt Sect Leader Wen,” Lan Qiren’s brother opined. “He is meticulous in his schemes. Even if there were, the announcement was public; I would not have our clan be known as oath-breakers.”

“Public and unrefuted,” Lan Qiren’s father said, and Lan Qiren blinked because he almost sounded disapproving – but his father never disapproved of anything his brother did, as far as he knew. “Still, you are not wrong. There are few more decisive than Sect Leader Wen. Once he settled on his course, he would not leave such a gap through which one could retreat, not even for himself…Qiren.”

Lan Qiren straightened.

“You were unharmed?”

He blinked at the unexpected question, the same his brother had posed.

“I only had a headache,” he said hesitantly, vaguely aware from the way his father looked at him and his brother did as well that his answer was not what they were expecting. “From the liquor. Nothing else.”

“Did anything else hurt?” his father pressed. “Your body?”

Lan Qiren thought back. “My upper arms,” he said, remembering. He’d thought it was from the uncomfortable bed. “And my right knee. They were a little bruised, I think, but it went away after Sect Leader Wen shared spiritual energy with me.”

His father frowned and twisted his fingers in a gesture; an array opened beneath Lan Qiren’s feet, and the places he had mentioned, as well as his palms and forehead, began to glow.

The marks on his arms, glowing with the pale echoes of Wen Ruohan’s qi, were in the shape of hands.

(Wen Ruohan had commented on Lan Qiren’s enthusiastic telling of the Lan sect rules while intoxicated, to the point of seeking to hold him down as an unwilling audience. Had Wen Ruohan had to physically restrain him from causing trouble as well?)

“The disgrace was minimal, then,” his brother remarked, and when their father said nothing but dismissed the spell Lan Qiren abruptly realized that they were trying to figure out if he had, in fact, been deflowered, just as Wen Ruohan had teasingly hinted that night. He had not shared with anyone that he had woken up in Wen Ruohan’s bed, too mortified to do so, and now that the suggestion had been seriously raised, he was even more determined never to do so. “Not that that will help the rumors.”

Lan Qiren hadn’t thought – surely people wouldn’t think – wouldn’t assume –

Wen Ruohan had no reputation for liking young boys. He wasn’t even known to cut his sleeve!

(Lan Qiren didn’t know what he himself liked. He’d thought he’d have more time to figure it out.)

“We do not guide our sect according to rumors.”

His brother put down his teacup with a little more force than necessary. “Is it the sale or the price that you object to, Father?” he asked, voice far sharper than it should be when speaking to an elder, least of all their father. “See what I have accomplished for our sect, and without even the official authority of being vested as sect leader! It is just as you taught me! Am I to flinch simply because he shares my blood?”

“It is not what is taken,” their father responded, his voice a little sharper than usual as well, but not by much; he might as well have been commenting disapprovingly on an unfortunate turn in the weather. “But that it is Wen Ruohan who takes. His greed knows no boundaries, his recklessness grows by the year – today Qiren is unharmed and your plans may proceed, but what of tomorrow?”

“Have you thought of any better use to put him to? His role is to serve the sect!”

“As a disciple of the Lan sect,” their father said. His tone was still mild, but his voice was icy enough to make Lan Qiren shiver in a confused sort of fear that he did not quite understand. “Not as a plaything for Wen Ruohan.”

By all rights, Lan Qiren’s brother ought to now kneel and beg forgiveness from his elder, his sect leader, his father, but instead he only shook his head. “An oath of brotherhood goes both ways,” he reminded their father, speaking to him as if they were equals. “Sect Leader Wen announced to the world that he swore an oath with a child – does that not also mean that responsibility for his safety and wellbeing falls equally on his shoulders? Any harm to him stains Sect Leader Wen’s name as much if not more than ours.”

“Are we to let outsiders educate our children, then?”

“One cannot compare a foolish younger son to a brother, voluntarily chosen. He chose it, not us; everyone knows this. Any mistakes Qiren makes will fall heavier on his shoulders.”

Their father frowned deeply enough to carve additional lines into his prematurely aged face. “You plan to use Qiren as a lever, then, and extract concessions for every slight.”

His brother shrugged, almost careless in his arrogance. “If Sect Leader Wen chooses to give me such a handle over him, am I meant to refuse? For all his clever schemes, he is also known to be moody and impulsive, easily lured into rashness…I see an opportunity here, not a trap. You chose to give me responsibility early, to have me help you make our sect stronger, greater; that is what I was born to do. You gave me power and I have done well with it, done exactly what you’ve asked me to do. I’ve made you proud - haven’t I?”

“But what of the risk that Wen Ruohan might ignore public opinion and harm Qiren regardless?” his father pressed, not answering. It wasn’t really necessary, of course; he was always proud of Lan Qiren’s brother, no matter what he did - his eldest son was his treasure, the only thing he cared for; it was as fact as undeniable as the direction in which the sun rose each morning. “The Lan sect does not buy riches with blood.”

“I have thought it over, Father,” his brother said quietly. “It is only a risk that he might be harmed, not a guarantee; it’s not as if I am sending Qiren to the Fire Palace myself. And there is the hope here, not of riches, but of glory for the sect –”

“Glory for the sect?” their father asked, voice rich with meaning Lan Qiren did not understand. “Or for yourself?”

“Are they not one and the same?” Lan Qiren’s brother was unmoved. “In the future, it will be mine, and so there is no difference - whatever you say now, that is what you have always shown me. Besides, Qiren will agree.”

Lan Qiren did not take a step backwards when they turned to look at him, though he dearly wanted to. His hands were still behind his back, gripped tight enough to hurt; he suspected when he looked later on he would find blood beneath his fingernails, dug in deep into his flesh.

“Well?” their father asked of him, though his gaze settled somewhere above Lan Qiren’s head as it always seemed to, as different as night and day from the tender and forgiving looks he gave his eldest son even in the midst of their argument. His voice was so cold that Lan Qiren could feel it against his skin like the bitter winter wind. “What do you say?”

Is it the sale or the price that you object to?

It’s not what is taken, but that it is Wen Ruohan who takes.

Have you thought of any better use to put him to?

His role is to serve the sect.

“I do not see what choice there is,” he said dully, his eyes focused on his father’s face just as his father’s refused to focus on his, foolishly still looking for the affection he knew he would likely never find. In his father’s mind, he had only one son – even his objections on Lan Qiren’s behalf, however mild, were nothing more than what he would have said on behalf of any Lan sect disciple. Even Lan Qiren, foolish and bad at people as he was, could see that his father’s primary concern over the approach his brother had suggested was its potential impact on the reputation of his brother and his sect. “I swore an oath. Even if I do not remember it, as a matter of personal honor, I will not allow myself to be foresworn.”

“There,” his brother said, his voice rich in satisfaction. “You see? The choice is made. It is only what we do with it now that matters.”

Lan Qiren bit his lower lip to keep himself from doing something stupid, like asking do either of you care about me at all.

“Very well,” their father said indifferently. “Then it will be as you say. Qiren.”

“Father.”

“You will spend the night kneeling in the ancestral hall to consider the consequences of violating the prohibition against alcohol and the injunction to maintain your discipline. In view of the circumstances, no other punishment will be imposed.”

“Thank you, Father.”

“Dismissed.”

As Lan Qiren left, he heard his father ask his brother to tell him about the riding competition.

He did not ask about music.

[prof-peach]

Hello professor, I have a pretty heavy question I’m afraid, but I’m running out of people to ask, so I’ll try my best to keep it PG13.

It’s my Mienshao, Daisy. Up until recently, she and I were members of a police task force tasked with rooting out illegal Pokemon smuggling rings and underground high stakes tournaments. We’ve been partners for a long time, me and Daisy, we grew up together, and I dare say we made a great team. But then things went wrong.

For the sake of security I can’t go into too much detail, but we were participating in a raid when we got ambushed. Someone must have tipped the smugglers off, because they were waiting for us when we got there. During the firefight, there was an explosion, a gas tank got set on fire by a charizard, I believe, and Daisy and I happened to be close. She got out with a few minor burns and scrapes, I... Did not.

I’ll spare you the gory details, but I have been confined to a wheel chair ever since, and I am due to be fitted for a prosthetic leg next week.

I won’t lie, the transition has been hard for everybody, me, my friends, my family. My other Pokémon have been hovering around me like over protective nannies for weeks. But I think out of all of us, Daisy has been taking it the hardest. Half of the day she spends locked to my side like a bodyguard, threatening to punch anyone that gets too close into oblivion. And the other half, well...

She’s started putting herself through some kind of hellish self training routine. Doing katas until she all but collapses from exhaustion, running laps for hours, fighting every Pokemon she can convince to fight, wild or trained. Daisy’s always been tough, and she’s always loved training, but this... This isn’t training, it’s a death march. I’m getting extremely worried, and that’s not even everything!

She’s stopped eating her favorite foods, deliberately choosing ones I know she hates, she won’t let me pet her anymore, she just steps out of reach, trying not to look at me. But most worryingly, she’s started cutting off her whiskers. She’s always been so proud of her whiskers, she groomed them every day, always got grumpy when I teased her for having a big ol’ mustache. Now anytime they get longer than an inch, she slices them off with her claws and throws them in fireplace, like some kind ceromony.

I’m almost certain Daisy feels guilty for coming out mostly unscathed, when I didn’t. She’s always been a bit protective, even before we joined the police, and she’s saved my life multiple times out in the field, but now she feels like she’s failed me, I think. I’ve tried to convince her that it wasn’t her fault, but that only seems to redouble her efforts. I’m terrified she’s going to burn herself out if she keeps going like this, and I don’t know what to do.

I know this is a pretty heavy question, but I I’m not sure who else to ask. Is there anything I can do to convince her that she doesn’t need to hurt herself like this? Or, something? Just anything to help! Losing my leg was jarring, but losing Daisy would be unbearable!... I just... I just want my best friend to be okay.

I am sorry for what you’ve been through, I cannot begin to understand what it’s like to be in your shoes, but like all recovery, physical or mental, this will take a fair bit of time to get past, you both may never fully return to how things were, but it can get better and you can both return to a full life together with work and dedication.

I’ve certainly seen Pokemon go to extreme lengths after dangerous incidents to protect their loved ones or themselves, in this case it would be wise to assume your pokemons suffering with a hefty bill of PTSD, and needs some actual therapy to handle the feelings and thoughts they’re having. We have facilities to accommodate that if you’re local to Johto, but most Pokemon centres will be able to put you in contact with reliable and certified practices to begin unravelling the issues that now plague Daisy.

That she considers herself to have come away reasonably unscathed is not true, yes your life has physically changed, but she needs to step back and take a look at her life too. Everything’s different now, and more specifically how she’s treating herself and handling her feelings. If that’s not trauma and injury, I don’t know what else it could be. You both came away with damage that day, physical or not. The first step is to help her see that, and to begin to understand that despite this all, you can both continue to move forward together if you can overcome the injury together, it is an event you shared, and you two can aid each others recovery with time and care.

There’s some seriously gifted therapists out there, those who study for years and can help far more than me, they’ll take time to break down the events, and start to really get into the feelings that your partner is going through. The cycle for Daisy right now comes around to self-punishment, and seems to be stuck on a loop. She needs time and space to process her feelings of guilt, grief, fear and loss, facing them instead of burying herself in her rigorous training. While it is difficult to discuss, you two have a strong bond that means you could talk with her. Try to remind her who’s truly responsible, she may be blaming herself, which is pretty common in these situations, but at the root of it, you were doing your routine job, and the bad guys, the Pokemon smugglers and goons are to blame. THEY caused the issue, not her, and while it may not sink in right away it’s worth saying, and sticking to. You said you told her that it wasn’t her fault, which is the gut reaction, perhaps giving her a logical target instead of herself will work better for now. Reiterating the true issue, and taking the heat off of her may help with other tasks such as self care, later down the recovery road.

Her guilt will feel terrible, but it kind of works as a protector, keeping her distanced from the worse, more overwhelming feelings of helplessness and powerlessness. In fact the guilt that masks this all will slowly make things worse over time. That underlying intense emotion below the guilt is what you both need to work through, but more than anything, she needs to face it, in her own time, come to terms with it, and eventually (hopefully) come to an understanding that life is an endless cycle of events, things will happen, but you have to pick yourself up and turn the lemons into lemonade. She could have lost you that day, that you came away with your life is a miracle, and now you two get more time together because of that. Luck isn’t something that runs out, it’s not like there’s only so much of it to go around, it is like wining the lottery. Sometimes 20 people win, other times no one does. It’s hard to accept, but there’s no greater order to stuff that happens, but when we can come to this conclusion, it’s oddly freeing. I’ve seen a fair few Pokemon in a symilar state who can move on when they realise there’s an odd randomness to the world and everything that goes on.

This is a job for someone with far greater skills than I, but you must help her by also looking after yourself, laugh when you can, show her that your life is still very full, and that you have loved ones, and joy to share with others. You mentioned that you’re due a prosthetic, and though the transition will be long and no doubt a little difficult at first, getting yourself back on two feet (kind of) will show her, and your other Pokemon that you’re willing to move forward. I think there’s a lot to be said about talking during this all. She wants to fight, to be strong, if this is how she’s going to cope, fine. If she’s out training, sit with her, spend whatever time you can by her side, as she’s taking this the hardest. You don’t have to say a thing, just try to do your best, without putting yourself in too much discomfort or pain. Reminding her who would be devastated if it had been her who got hurt, if she was not around, may help ground her back in reality a bit. You both got granted a gift that day, you came away alive, if she works so hard she burns out, that gift was wasted. She can use her kindness, and strength to help you, she can pass her knowledge and skill forward, but it’s hard to help others, and do your best if you’re exhausted beyond reason. Kind of like trying to give people bread from a basket but the damn basket is empty yknow? You got to take time to refill so you can help those around you again, so you have some bread to give. I know, probably sounds a little dumb but it’s always been the way I remember it.

Another very useful thing I’ve found with trauma survivors would be meeting others who have been in the same position. There’s plenty of support groups for both people and Pokemon who have been through events that left them in a difficult situation, emotionally and physically. Even here at the lab we have many species who have been left without limbs, with life changing damage, and a lot of them also have the emotional trauma too. She would probably do well to spend time with them, you can send her to a resort to retreat and recoup erase, mix with others who were just as angry as she is now, or you can take time to go with her to groups to interact with others. It’s one thing to have humans help, but it’s a whole other level of connection when Pokemon can help their own. They bond quicker, trust faster, and generally are more open to listening when it’s coming from a place of mutual experience. If she had time to talk to pokemon who actually lost their trainers, or parts of themselves, she may find some peace, even if only temporarily.

Don’t mention the whiskers, and where possible don’t offer her foods she actively likes, but also not ones she actively dislikes. Just for now. Start the ball rolling with just plain simple things that are neither good or bad. Indifferent is better than bad right now, the punishment she’s inflicting on herself will need addressing further, so contact a therapist, they use Rotom or porygon to translate from poke-speech to human language, and the repair can begin with a registered professional. My advice is not sound proof, I certainly feel like I have missed something important, it’s a big response, but it’s a start in the right direction, and should you come up to any further issues, message back and update us with what’s going on. With work you two will be on track to recover. Remember, patience is the biggest thing here, you two have history, and a therapist will no doubt take the sessions as a pair, and work with you to help Daisy feel less guilty over time. I hope you both find peace, and that both of you repair in due time. Good luck with the new leg, a step towards recovery for sure.

[mozillavulpix]

super anti-komahina salt

and this is to go further beyond

I saw a komahina fan post a write-up and it just irritates me so I want to break it down:

“If you think Komaeda is batshit insane or that his character is only about his obsession with hope and you interpreted Hinata's feelings about Komaeda as just hate of course it wouldn't make sense. Except neither of these are true for their characters.”

This is the basic surface-level narrative Komahina fans argue against, and fair enough, it’s a massive generalisation. But this argument also just irritates me because it implies everyone who doesn’t ship them do so because they don’t understand the characters well enough.

“long story short Komaeda's obsesses over hope as a coping mechanism, because it's the only thing he can cling to.”

I can agree with this in a way, but in my opinion I don’t think he’s so weak that it’s impossible for him break free from that mindset (during the game) if he really wants to.

“Komaeda doesn't like Hinata because he thinks he is talented and above him, Komaeda says he loves all ultimates but it's not real love. His love for Hinata is different. In the SDR2 drama CD he mentions that he loves Hinata because he tries to understand him.”

I can agree with this. Although the Drama CD is literally just the Free Time Events, I don’t think it’s some kind of ‘gotcha’ like people think it’d be.

But also keep in mind, yes, Hajime tries to give Nagito a chance and doesn’t immediately run away screaming because scary person he can’t understand, but Hajime also doesn’t particularly act more saintly than all the other kids towards Nagito after Chapter 1. Nekomaru and Kazuichi seem to at least try to hear Nagito out before they punch him in the face. Mahiru seems like she was the first one to consider giving him breakfast. Hajime tries to stop Akane from attacking him after the Chapter 1 trial, but mostly because he’s resigned to the fact it won’t change what he did, and he then changes his mind and gets pissed off when Nagito decides to taunt him about his amnesia in response. And it’s Sonia who finally settles everyone down. So yes, Hajime tries to understand Nagito, but in the actual plot itself that’s not a special trait unique to him.

It’s only ‘unique’ if you choose to do the Free Time Events, and the Free Time Events...are basically not canon. They’re more like a what-if scenario the player chooses to view, and the dialogue was written from that perspective.

As in, maybe it’s canon that they’d interact like that if they spent time together on the island, but it’s not canon that Hajime does and wants to do that during the story. Because you can do them for everyone.

“And they reach a mutual understanding in DR3 because the two of them are more alike than Hinata would like to admit.”

Um...

Well, this is why DR2.5 is bullshit

I agree they’re similar, but I think both of them knew this from the very beginning. It’s not exactly a reason for reconciliation and forgiveness. The fact they have similarities is the exact reason why Hajime is so upset at his betrayal, and snaps back at Nagito every time he brings that up. So I don’t know if that’s really a good reason to explain why they’ve forgiven each other come DR3.

“Komaeda doesn't see himself as above untalented reserves either, because in 2-4, after realizing the truth about Hinata he says that they are the same, stepladders for hope. He was lashing out at all the students for being despair. They are similar, because they both share the same views that talent is everything.”

And then Hajime gets his character development for the rest of the game all so he can realise talent isn’t everything. So...?

“Now from Hinata's end, a lot of people seem to miss this about him, but he is someone who denies his feelings when they get inconvenient, he is called a tsundere by monokuma” 

I guess this is a diss against the surface-level people and people who are like “but the text literally says this”. But even then, the game literally shows Hajime’s inner thoughts. If he’s conflicted about things, the text generally shows that too, even if it’s with a careful inclusion of a ‘...’

So I don’t think we should take that trait as an excuse to literally ignore what the text says.

He was felt pumped when Komaeda was out of critical condition, but he thinks "why do I have to feel pumped, oh well best not to think about it"....because Hinata likes to avoid facing things that inconvenient him. Hinata finds it hard to trust Komaeda and doesn't play along with him, because he is afraid of getting caught in his pace, and not because he hates him and thinks he is better off dead.

This part literally read like a high-schooler’s english essay, and maybe this kid actually is a high-schooler, tbh. Because that is one big leap from “Hajime finds it difficult to deal with his feelings” to “since Hajime finds it difficult to deal with Nagito, it means he doesn’t hate him”.

“I don't think Komaeda is a fundametally bad person but is shaped to be what he is because of his luck cycle. In his last FTE, Hinata asks what Komaeda would do if didn't have his luck cycle, and his answer was something along the lines of " a normal life, devoid of hope and despair". And we get to that his innermost desires is to live a normal life in the OVA, and his character song zansakura zanka.”

He can also just decide to not believe in his luck cycle.

Also, in the OVA, he’s embarrassed by that inner desire and tells World Destroyer he hopes no one saw that maybe he wishes for a world without talent.

Like his desire to be a good person is so hidden that he doesn’t want people to know.

“Hinata even mentions Komaeda isn't trying to trick anyone for selfish reasons in his report card, so it's a shame to see so many people attribute all of Komaeda's actions to malice just because of what Hinata thought of him in chapter 5 because it wasn't clear what Komaeda's reasons were at that point.”

Okay, a few things to unpack here:

Just because Nagito is doing things ‘for the greater good’, doesn’t mean it’s not also selfish. Hajime isn’t going to say that because Hajime doesn’t realise that. You can’t exactly trust him with being able to articulate everything about a character’s worldview. Izuru would. He probably does in Chapter 0. (And that’s why he seems disgusted by him).

Also, there’s “maybe Hajime is a slightly unreliable narrator because he tries to avoid thinking about difficult things”, and there’s “actually, the majority of how Hajime views Chapter 5 is unreliable because he didn’t know for sure if Nagito’s plan was malicious or not, it was just his gut feeling”.

What about the video message after Chapter 5? What about having to spell out ‘KILL US ALL’? What about Chapter 0 showing how in the real world Nagito had completely lost it? It’s not like the game was trying to present Nagito as any little bit more sympathetic after the trial. If anything, every piece of new info reinforced that mindset Nagito was filled with malice, up to the ‘fake Makoto’ saying that he somewhat understood him. The fake Hope made by Junko to trick them.

If you compare Chapter 5 in 2 to Chapter 5 in V3, you can see how the positioning is different. V3 does the “the villain tries to make himself look the worst he can in the mind of the heroes when in reality his real intentions were different” a lot better. More flat-out intentionally - the protagonist kind of literally giving a monologue about how the character was morally grey and even at the end there they couldn’t say they knew their true intentions. But also it’s just not as...sinister as 2-5. No ominous chanting, no dismembered limbs, none of the characters feeling completely out of their element and terrified. I think it’s text that Nagito is supposed to be villainous in Chapter 5 and even past Chapter 5.

So...

I can at least understand where Komahina comes from, but god it annoys me

Unpacking it like this, I can see it’s not even fair to argue back a lot of it - the stuff people are saying do make sense and are arguing against kinds of people I have seen.

Besides, I’m not arguing Komahina ‘can’t be canon’.

My view is just I think Hajime deserves better than a character like Nagito, who never repented for his actions on-screen or even gave much of a hint that he wanted to repent for his actions.

And that it’s still easy to argue that Nagito is a bad person even with his trauma.

Not everyone who calls Nagito an awful person is an idiot who doesn’t know how to read text past the surface, you can still make a nuanced take with that conclusion

for god’s sake

[letusmeetagain]

Hi, sorry for the hassle but... What's your opinion about Annie's character? That is, I've seen a lot of criticism of her, saying that basically isayama ruined her, her acting is illogical or she just rewrote it, especially with her feelings for armin and that these came out of nowhere or more as a replacement after her dad's death or that the girl simply suffers from Stockholm syndrome. In conclusion, Annie before her crystallization was great and now they ruined her. Which in my opinion, I find very ridiculous, I do see a certain coherence in her way of acting, I am aware that what drives her is more a sentimental motivation? (it's just that I don't know what name to give it) it has always been, and I understand that this may tire others but it doesn't mean that she's a bad character. She is my favorite so maybe my love blinds me, and I would like to know your opinion that I respect a lot, to see if I can recognize something new.

Hi anon!

I’m currently crying because I lost my first answer... and it was beautiful... T.T

I think you came to the wrong spot... if you look for an objective answer about her because... I love her.

If I have to pick a character I feel related to, it’s definitely Annie. I love her sassyness, her way to tell the truth of the world... how she always says things that are veiled behind the situations. I’m somehow like that too. I like to say the bitter truth... I even love the armor she built to carry out the mission... like a chadannie.

Maybe it’s time for us all to recognize that none of the warriors or Eren likes what they /were/are doing. But the people that are complaining, if I’m not wrong, are exactly those who believed and restricted her to the armor she had as well as they believe chad Eren’s armor. They want her to be a cold cynical killing machine. They like that fierce beast that couldn’t put in words her fragility. The hints were there. Eren could see through her cold persona as well as Armin.

The truth is that behind that armor there is a girl that just wanted to go back to the person that loves her, aimed to be considered an imperfect, normal human being and also accepted. There is a pattern there. Everyone that tells her that they love her, are requited. Her father and Armin. It’s because she is craving for love and acceptance. That’s why she was surprised when Armin said she was nice and she returned the compliment. She is no different to Mikasa... so if we see the pattern of someone being saved by love... That’s Isayama’s message.

Althought she said she doesn’t regret her actions as her motives are still valid to her, we saw her soul being progressively corroded by the mission to the point that she had no will or strength more to fight. She just came back to save the people she loves and cares about. She came back to rescue Armin, who saw in her more than just an enemy and stayed by her when she was alone.

I always thought that, aside from this hidden emotional side that fears to be hated, she was already developed. That’s why I believe Isayama put her in sleeping beauty mode for so long and brought her back when her last conflict was to be solved. It’s because there is an invertion between what she lived and what Mikasa is going through now. And I’m thankful that she is there for Mikasa too, because she knows how hard is to be enemy of someone you love. Both are deeply connected through  compassion and mutual acknowlegment of their feelings.

That ping-pong questions with Armin while talking about why they didn’t betray/kill each other and not being able to.... say it was because of love... It was just beautiful. They are facing now the worst and darkest moment of their lives and it’s exactly now that they found out the answer. Why should this be wrong?

I feel like people are rejecting characters’ souls being reached by love. Especially women. Hate on Mikasa and Annie for showing love. Why? Why should be wrong being proud of a positive feeling?

One is a slave and the other one is a victim of Stockholm syndrome. Do you see the pattern? Why do I have the feeling that those people are deeply hurt by their own disappointing experiences with love and that’s why they hate women in love? Maybe that’s why they see love as boring or as a weakness.

I reject this.

She is tired of having to fight against the people she loves/cares about. She “Lost” her last reason to be involved in this fight. That’s it. Mikasa understood it and tried to relieve her showing compassion. She also warned about Armin being in danger and that’s why she chose to keep fighting now.

The only possible complaint I would accept is that her and Aruannie’s development are a little rushed. Somehow... yes. But since Isayama left the hints... some of the feelings she may have had are similar to Reiner’s and Bert’s development... so... well. I accept it. I need more, but I also now that he just wants to finish the story.

So! Thank you for this great question! :-)

[taenohana]

BTS is hypocritical (tw: depression, self-harm)

Okay, before anyone come at me and scream at me or accuse me of being a hater, hear me out. I realize the title may come off somewhat click-baity, but I promise you I have nothing but immense love towards the boys, and that I choose this title because it fits the whole essay I'm about to write.

Today, I went on a spree, reading opinions about why people dislike BTS or find them arrogant, and there is something I've noticed being mentioned a lot. That's right. It's that BTS is hypocritical.

Now most of the arguments are about them not practicing what they preach, most especially about "Love Yourself" and "Speak Yourself." This bothers me a lot because all eventually boils down to "They shouldn't tell people to love themselves if they themselves can't do it."

Let me tell you why this bothers me so, so much.

Basically, BTS is advocating for self-love and for voicing yourself and to speak up. The problem is they themselves are just 7 young men who haven't even reached 30 of age. As you can see in Burn the Stage or during Jin's speech that they almost disbanded, anyone can tell that they too struggle. Some members even spoke up about depression. Apparently, some people have said that this is somewhat hypocritical of them.

Now, I have issues with this sentiment because this screams like "You are not fit to spread positive messages if you can't practice it yourself." And of course, toxic positivity does exist. But let me speak a bit more about myself here. I have been for the past few months relapsing with my depression and anxiety, and I have been experiencing many, many panic attacks. While I recall some of my most depressive years to come from last year, and I had gotten better earlier this year, I have been relapsing. Not as bad as one year ago, but I'm certainly not well. And I hate toxic positivity, believe me, I do. With that being said, there's something I discovered this year.

I've found out that it hurts me when I see others going through the same thing as I am or even more. Someone reached out to me when I contemplated hurting myself even more, and ever since I have been thankful to her for just that bit of light/warmth that she gave me. It might not last as long as I'd have liked but it gave me hope. Ever since, whenever I see someone else struggling, I feel the urge to reach out, to be there for them, to console them, in any way I could.

From there, I've gained many lovely friends who are always there, whom I can rely upon, whenever I relapse, whenever I just need a shoulder to cry on. And it is all based on mutual respect and admiration and just the raw feeling of caring for one another, something that should be our basic instinct as human beings, where we help each other when we see someone is hurting. I did not come to them or reach out so that they owe me something in return and so be there for me when I need them. And they did not approach me just so I owe them and be there for them. We are simply there for each other, hoping the both of us will come out better than yesterday.

Basically what I'm saying here is, am I not fit to console others, to tell my friends that they deserve love, that I wish they learn how to love themselves, just because I myself am struggling with those things as well? Just because I have trouble loving myself, am I not allowed to tell my friends they deserve being capable of self-love? Just because BTS are struggling themselves, are they not allowed to spread positive message to love oneself?

And it's such a bizarre thing because apparently people were shocked when Burn the Stage came out or when Jin said they were going to disband. Some were surprised because "Turns out they're not as happy as they make themselves appear to be."

This shocked me even more.

How? How did people not realize that they have always been struggling? Must Jin declare it first or must there be a whole documentary exposing their strife as a group for people to realize that they're human, and always have been? Especially for older fans, surely you know how much they struggled. Especially for fans watching all their content, surely you could sense whenever one of them is unhappy or is struggling. The signs are always there. All we need is to pay attention.

Anyway, with this shock/revelation came the questions and doubts. Now the same people saying they were shocked to find out the reality (which has always been there tbh, which was one reason I didn't cry much watching Burn the Stage because I thought "This is nothing new? I somehow knew that it's more or less like this behind the scenes."), now are saying "So they have been struggling all along? If so, why do they preach these things to love oneself? Why do they not practice it?"

Simple. The answer is simple:

It is hard.

Yes, it is an irony that it's simple because we all know how hard it is. We have all been there, telling our loved ones they deserve everything in the world, yet when it comes to ourselves? It's hard to see that we deserve it just as much.

BTS are no different. They were 7 boys, struggling to make their name, as they notice the struggles around them and wishing they could also voice out their concern and reach out to us, hoping it will console us and comfort us. Just like when we tell our friends we are there for them. That they deserve love and happiness.

Naturally, what comes after "Why are they not practicing what they preach?" is the question "Why are they not speaking out?"

Now that they've shown explicitly that they, too, struggle (which should be our common sense anyway once we stop and remind ourselves that they, too, are humanbeings like us), some people are wondering why they don't speak out more or explain what is troubling them or caused them to struggle. Now that we have Burn the Stage and Jin saying they almost disbanded, some people are beginning to wonder: why?

Why were they fighting? Why did they almost disband? What were they struggling against? What were troubling them? All these questions with the ultimate conclusion being: if they tell people to speak up, they should speak up.

Another hypocrisy.

Again, I will draw from my own personal experience. See, I think we as humanbeings are complex. We want to be understood, yet at the same time most of the time we don't let people see our bare selves to be fully understood. I personally do this because of two reasons. One, I don't want to add burden to others, making them worry about me. Two, sometimes I don't think anyone will ever understand what I'm going through. Moreover, sometimes I do know the answers to my own struggles, and I simply just can't apply them. In this case, I don't see the point of talking out my problems.

Now, there were so many moments in which I "signalled" to my friends I felt unloved and that I was going through an episode, and they would come to me telling me I could talk to them, and that they were there for me. Most of my responses? You guessed it. I'd love to talk about it but I don't know how.

I don't know how.

Questions were spinning in my head. "Would you be able to understand it? Is it worth speaking about? Aren't you going through something bad, maybe even worse than me? Would I sound annoying, whiny, attention-seeking? Once I open up, would you find me as non-reliable? Would you then stop relying on me and talking to me about your problems? Would things change? Would talking about it fix anything? Would I feel better afterwards? Would you feel burdened to give an advice or solution? Is it even necessary, especially now that I'm slightly better and no longer having an episode? Should I still tell you what happened anyway?"

Of course, some were easier to talk to because maybe in the back of my mind I knew they once went through something very similar that I felt like they could understand. Some were harder because while we were close, I had never opened up to them (and you do realize opening up the first time to someone is a tough thing to do), and some of course I just know are going through even worse (or at least more immediate problems) that I couldn't bring myself to speak up.

For this. It is not that simple. To speak up is not that simple. Does that mean I'm against speaking up? Of course not. I will always still encourage people to speak up when they feel silenced. It's important.

However, it's equally important to understand that each of us has our own pace. Not everyone can open up as fast as the next person. And it's always good to offer lending someone an ear without forcing words out of their mouth. Trust me. Once you tell someone you're there for them and you're willing to listen, people will talk when they are ready.

Another thing is about privacy.

It's no secret that BTS is often dubbed as being "woke" or "real," whatever those words actually mean. This is not something they claim themselves, but rather it's something that fans and some media have pushed on them. Now this makes people think, if they are so real, why are they not speaking up about their experiences and how they are also manufactured in some ways? How they put on happy faces and act like their life is going swell, and that they love their life?

First of all, we all wear masks. Not a single one of us show our real selves. Since I'm going impromptu here, I might be inaccurate about this philosophy but the gist is that we all have different masks we wear towards certain people or in certain situations. And there's one mask we never show to anyone. A mask only we have ever seen. This thing doesn't just apply to idols.

Secondly, again, to reiterate my previous points, the boys are not always happy. Pay attention, and you will know. And they don't always act like they're happy and that they love their life. Once again, once you realize they're humans just like us, you will find out that that is far from the truth. I think it should be enough for us to know that they struggled and that they are trying themselves to be better and to improve, and that some of the problems have already been resolved. As fans, all we have to be is be there for them when they do want to speak up more. Otherwise, they do have the right to keep it between them, and we should respect their privacy, just as we won't force our loved ones to talk about what's bothering them. Just simply be there when they want to be heard.

Another ridiculous thing to add here is that people will always find fault. If they genuinely love their life, people will say, "Oh of course they're happy. They're rich and successful now." OR "How hypocritical of them to be happy of their rich and success when they used to diss capitalism and suchs. They should be more considerate towards those who are suffering and not act so carefree and happy with their lives."

However, let's say they openly show how depressed or troubled they are, people will still talk. "How are they not happy? Why? That is very arrogant and and ungrateful of them since they have everything they've ever dreamed of now." OR "How can they preach about self-love when they cannot love themselves for who they are and what they have now. They're being hypocrites."

Here I also like to underline "arrogant," it has come to my attention that many people find them to be "empty" or "arrogant." And I'm gonna be honest. Before I got to know them, they also appeared arrogant to me. But then I realised, there are many groups who seemed arrogant to me before I learned about them more. As soon as I got to know them, I could see that they, like most others, are just dorks. Of course, there are some actual arrogant idols, but my point is people shouldn't judge before getting to know someone or a group.

I have been a victim of the same thing due to my naturally resting bitch face. If I don't smile, people automatically assume I'm a stuck-up bitch. This has even impacted my academic life in which I was rejected from an organization because I was "too arrogant." So think before you judge.

Another thing is "empty." I admit I have fallen out of love with their music for the last two years until BE came out, reminding me of why I love them. And I admit, I, too, have thought of the same thing. I thought their music no longer spoke to me and is "too bright or optimistic or positive" to me. As I've mentioned, I hate toxic positivity. And it might've crossed my mind that they were heading towards that, which was why I started to lose interest. I still love them, don't get me wrong, I just didn't resonate with the messages or feel of their newer music.

However, I can see that there's nothing wrong with that. After BE, I see that they are still the same lovely boys who helped me through my depression. And as much as I miss their older music which I find to be more relatable, their newer music which has a more positive/optimistic vibes aren't so bad. As much as I wish they make music like they used to, it's a nice change. Now they have music that just feels good and suits me just fine on better days.

Empty? Of course. Just like in Black Swan, they express how they're falling out of love with music. Of course, they feel empty. As someone who writes and love stories, I relate. Why? It's relatable since stories or writing no longer excite me the way they used to. This is a real struggle that every artist (or at least most) go through. It's a period of emptiness, of losing your passion, of no longer enjoying something you love with all your heart. It is something familiar for people with depression.

So you could look at it this way. They, too, are going through things a lot of people do. They are, after all, human beings. Something interesting I found during one of the interviews is one of the members (I think RM) saying that it seems as if their moods or life or experiences suit the album they were making.

This is to say that they struggled with self-love when they made Love Yourself series. Or how they feel that during the making of Map of the Soul series, they feel like they're losing their roots (hip-hop or their angsty and "woke" messages in music), questioning who they really are, whether they still fit as musicians and what their messages for people in the world should be.

I would like to close this essay just by saying that I understand why people are viewing BTS this way. It is a valid opinion, and I won't discredit nor disrespect that. Even so, I hope people would come to understand more that being depressed or struggling doesn't necessarily mean one cannot spread positive messages and comfort others. And that speaking out isn't easy and shouldn't be forced. Encourage people to speak, to open up. Reassure them that we will never devalue their words, that we will listen and try to understand. But never force them to speak. They could be uncomfortable yet, they could be not ready yet. Even so, I promise you it's very comforting and appreciated to know someone will be there, ready to hear, when one is ready to speak.

Also, never judge someone based on how they look, learn and get to know about them more, and understand that people only show what they want to show: idols, us, everyone, we all have masks.

Let us learn to appreciate the good things in life, including BTS' messages and try to apply it in our lives while also understanding that they're humans like us, not angels. Understand that probably one of the reasons they find it hard to practice what they preach is exactly because people look up to them and expect them to be better at what they preach. That one of the reasons they struggle and put on a facade is exactly because they feel it's what expected of them. And perhaps they just don't want to disappoint us fans and distress us, doing their best to entertain us and distract us from our evil thoughts.

Finally, let's be humans. Let's be kind to each other. Let's be there for each other. Let's try to listen and pay attention more, and try to understand each other. Let's help each other and encourage each other to speak about our struggles while still respecting boundaries and privacy. Let's take one baby step towards a better future, towards making this world a better place to live.

Thank you for making it this far.

- Hana 💮

[paintedpoems]

Black Water Arc: War of The Water Tyrants.

“Wind’s ontology refuses to take separateness as an inherent feature of the world. […] And this is, in part, wind’s value—it has an existential precondition that appears only in the context of contact. Wind is touching, mutual, moving.”

 — Cymene Howe, Ecologics

 It seems overly contradictory to start a piece about water tyrants with a quote about the wind, doesn’t it? In actuality, readers of the novel would find this comparison immensely appropriate. This is because although black water arc is about the head-to-head battle between Shi Wudu and Hexuan; the center point, the cause and the final effect of this whole arc is Shi Qingxuan. 

 “Existential Precondition” or fate. It is ironic that wind is described as such because that is essentially Shi Qingxuan’s inherent problem and “Refuses to take separateness” was Shi Qingxuan’s ultimate solution. 

Short Summary:

The infant Shi Qingxuan has a curse placed upon them. The curse prophesied a life full of unfathomable hardships for Shi Qingxuan and that is now their fate. Their brother, Shi Wudu, who is extremely protective of his sibling, is bent on saving Shi Qingxuan from this curse. Shi Wudu being naturally gifted eventually ascends as a god, he uses his position in the heavenly realm to then help his younger brother ascend to godhood as well. It is eventually revealed that Shi Wudu secretly changed his sibling’s cursed fate with another person of similar name and better fortune. 

The person in question is Hexuan. Hexuan was fated to live a prosperous life and ascend as a god but instead lives with tragedy latched onto him. He goes through poverty, false accusations, abuse and all of his loved ones die under heartbreaking circumstances. Hexuan eventually dies and returns as a vengeful ghost bent on punishing the one that had wronged him. Hexuan wants justice and since the gods refuse to pass judgement, he decides to come to a verdict on his own. In short, that is what black water arc is about: Judgement. In a grey situation, where exactly do we place the blame?

 On Morality:

Shi wudu verses Hexuan, ‘The war of the water tyrants’ dilemma, is one of the most mind-blowingly well thought out cases of grey morality in literature. It is no secret that the reductiveness of morals into “good” and “evil” categories is one of mxtx's main themes often explored heavily in her previous works. The author rejects the absolute extremes in character viewpoints, both in her protagonists and antagonists and applies the concept in varying thoughts including race and politics. 

The difference in this arc however, is the projection of the audience’s principles into each character. That is, between Hexuan and Shi wudu, she never specifies who the antagonist is. It is left to the readers to explore, reflect and come to an understanding on what exactly it is like to venture into the grey zone. Neither of the two were selfishly driven, none of their initial intentions stemmed from hatred. It was familial love that drove them to hurt one another, familial love that blindsided them. In their quest to protect and to avenge their family, innocent family members lost their lives or were hurt; on both their parts. This is where the definitions of victims and perpetrators get skewed. It is so skewed in fact, that the only valid testimony left is the reader's sentiments for the characters and their own self-principles. 

 From Shi wudu’s “Everything I have today, I fought for myself... I will change fate that I do not possess. My fate is up to me and not the heavens” is the will to fight predestination. Verses, Hexuan’s “What right did he have to suck another’s blood, trample another’s bones to reach the skies, and still maintain a peace of mind. Enjoying all such luxuries without any sense of burden?” the victim of the change in predestination. Two strong, commendable principles, founded by righteousness but blinded by arrogance and hatred. Later, to maintain a peace of mind, Hexuan tramples on Shi Qingxuan and in the process of fighting for oneself, Shi Wudu ultimately changes Shi Qingxuan’s fate for the worse. 

We even witness the Shi Wudu’s blindness take a terrible turn at the very end when he attempts to strangle his own sibling that he fought to protect all this time. His belief that Shi Qingxuan will not be safe without him, his lack of trust in his own brother, is part of his arrogance. 

In return, we see Hexuan’s blind hatred falter for a moment when he keeps giving Shi Qingxuan chances for safety. At the finish line, we see both the water tyrant’s own morals and goals swap. This change in attitude towards Shi Qingxuan’s future is another outstanding ploy by mxtx because expectation of a good outcome is the core of morality. In the end, the readers simply wish for a good ending for Shi Qingxuan and when Shi Wudu decides he is going to die together with his sibling, it confuses the audience. There is a shock factor added, you perceive Shi Wudu as the protector and he pulls the safety rug from under your feet. Instant shock and confusion violating the purity of the absolute good, so the reader’s immediate reaction is to look for safety in the not-absolute evil i.e. Hexuan. However, when Hexuan does not provide that complete comfort at the end, only slightly appeasing everyone, it stings. Reinforcing that cognitive blend of mixed morality into reader’s beliefs, further skewing the curve. 

 It is this kind of writing that creates a split in the fandom, not in a bad way, but more in terms of sparking a conversation about where people’s individual morality lies. Each character has their past, their reasons, their flaws and goodness and it gives the audience something to root for. In addition, the rooting is not a hundred percent good versus bad, because each character’s choices are equally flawed. The fandom selects a side but with one foot still lingering on the other territory. Siding with Hexuan but understanding the reasoning behind Shi Wudu’s actions or siding with Shi Wudu but sympathizing with Hexuan’s pain and loss. The uneven split is how you know the characterization was not mediocre.

In regards to characterizations, Shi wudu and Hexuan are too similar. Their personalities, personas, auras; the proud, stubborn, intelligent water tyrants. We speak of these likenesses because Shi Qingxuan lives through this battle and will never be able to unsee the similarities. Hexuan remains, a walking reminder of Shi Wudu. This feels deliberately done as the final stab to the readers, so that Shi Qingxuan and Hexuan’s relationship remains unmendable. 

 Pure Point of Views, Shi Qingxuan and Xielian: 

Wind is invisible, its apprehension comes from its exposure to objects or in this case other people. Shi Qingxuan is air, pure, lively and touching, forming a comforting contact with everyone they meet. The kind of character that brings about a reader’s protective instinct, in a sense, if anything were to happen to them it will infuriate and break the audience. A classic plot device to draw emotions from the readers. Why must this innocent child suffer for the sins of their brother? But, mxtx urges us to rethink this by wondering the same for Hexuan’s family. They were innocent too, why did they have to die on this path? Why is Shi Qingxuan’s innocence valid and not theirs? The audience feels for Shi Qingxuan because we have become familiarised with them. Shi Qingxuan has now made that connection with the readers, the wind has touched their hearts versus only receiving glimpses of what was Hexuan’s previous family. The effect is lacking that familial impact, that bond. Classic writing schemes, beautiful.

At the end of the clashing of the waves, the person left with the permanent scars was the blameless Shi Qingxuan. Their life was molded and directed into this final point without their control, as if caught in a sea storm. The one that paid for this feud was ultimately Shi Qingxuan, the person neither of the other two wanted to hurt.

 Another classic writing device I want to finally explore and praise is the use of the narrator to throw the audience off the culprit’s scent. The mystery of Black Water Arc was quite simple actually, mxtx layed out all the clues and hints for the audience out in the open. Like Xielian himself states later, the simplest answer was always visible, he was just overthinking things. And if Xielian, the semi-narrator, overthinks then the audience will overthink. Xielian, an intelligent and the fundamentally good person, exudes a trusting aura. The audience cannot help but trust his judgement and perception of things, it is a credibility built from our experience with his mystery solving abilities in the previous arcs. 

The reason why the black water reveal was so impactful and shocking was because of Xielian. The semi narrator continuously made excuses for MingYi, his subconscious trusted him, even if he had his suspicions. He didn’t enforce them strongly enough, leaving the audience to believe Xielian was merely exploring a wrong option for the sake of eliminating possible culprits. The audience was not viewing MingYi as a culprit, rather they were waiting for Xielian to come to the inevitable conclusion of his innocence. An item to quickly cross off the checklist so that they could finally pursue the “real” culprit.

MingYi couldn’t use the Earth Master Shovel? Xielian makes the excuse for him before the audience can even dive deeper on that thought. HuaCheng draws suspicion back to MingYi and Xielian immediately doubts his most trusted confidant’s assumptions. Xielian trusts MingYi, so we trust MingYi against our better judgement. When the narrator has left no room for mistrust, how can the audience hold their stance? 

The proficient push and pull charade played out by Hexuan and Huacheng is another impactful factor that took part in diverting Xielian’s mistrust. The nefarious roles they played policing and suspecting each other, from Hexuan’s “don’t you have spies in the heavens?” to Huacheng’s lie detecting dice game. The solid plan of the two suspicious individuals doing the dirty work for Xielian, did not allow Xielian to mold his thoughts in his own way. He was led astray whilst the other two worked together to draw trust onto each other. So, the audience did not have room for doubt either. 

In addition to all of that, the most fundamental foundation to Xielian’s trust for MingYi was that fact that he was the one who saved him from Huacheng in the first place. Simply because of the ghost city arc, we already place Huacheng and Hexuan on opposing sides rather than assuming they were accomplices. Furthermore, because of Xielian’s trust in Huacheng’s intellect and his belief of Huacheng’s prejudice against MingYi; he would constantly monitor Huacheng’s reaction to his own deductions. Unfortunately, Huacheng was a terrible basis point and by the time Xielian realizes it, it is too late. An ingenious tactic. 

The author led us off track in such a brilliant manner, I had to sing praises at the end of this piece. The way our mind perceives people or situations, is the essence of our moral compass. The mind is subjective, so subjectivity in judgement is ever present, ever grey.

Notes:

This unforgettable and excruciatingly tragic arc is an important turning point in the book and we are all aware that it does not need a special summary. However, I wanted to start with a bit of a reintroduction, just to stay true to the essay tradition. Is this an essay? A think-piece? An analysis? I would not dare shame any of those academic classifications by claiming to be writing as such. 

I hope this was enjoyable to read.

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[saharamae21]

All of My Wrongs - Chapter 11

Pairing: Topper x OC and Rafe x OC

Summary: After her adventure with Topper, Rory is more confused than other. Her feelings for Topper were as unstoppable as gravity. She was just drawn to him. However, she knows that she will never be enough to please him or his family. Then there was Rafe. He was broken like her. They understood each other, but everything is moving to fast. She feels an enormous amount of pressure to please everyone and she can’t.

Word Count: 2.1K

A/N: Thank you for all the positive feedback, I love hearing what you guys have to say! Please keep commenting and sharing your thoughts with me.

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We walked out of the planetarium even though I never wanted to leave. I smiled to myself thinking about how amazing Topper was. He went to such far lengths to make me smile. I hoped that he knew that I would always do the same for him. He was just special to me. The day had slipped away from us and night was approaching quickly. I walked side by side with Topper, stealing glances at him every once and a while. He wore the most charming smile. The evening golden hour danced across his face, just like that first day on the dock.

“Thank you for today,” I said shyly. He glanced over at me, radiating pride in his smile. He told me I was welcome as we walked up to the harbor. Just as we were walking up, the last boat was leaving. We had completely lost track of time. He apologized and asked me what I wanted to do. I think he was expecting me to be upset, but instead I laughed. Secretly I had just wanted some more time with him and that wish came true. I froze as his hand brushed a strand of hair out of my face. The way his skin grazed my cheek was enough to make my heart flutter for a second. I blinked up at him and bit my lips together. This was how you were supposed to feel around someone you loved.

“C’mon,” he said, taking my hand in his to guide me through the harbor. He guided me back to one of the main roads. His hand felt so big around mine. I couldn’t focus on anything else except his hand on mine. Even though all of this felt so perfect, it also felt horribly wrong. No matter what I was feeling now, nothing could happen until Rafe and I were over. I couldn’t do that to him when he was so infatuated with me. I wished that feeling was mutual…

We came across a house in the nicer part of town. Topper checked the area for a key and I looked around wondering how he knew about this place. He slipped the key into the door, but I grabbed his wrist. I didn’t want to intrude on someone else’s home. He smiled at me and explained that his family owns this house. They used it for business when they had to be in Chapel Hill for longer than a day. I was shocked, but with the understanding I had of his family, it all made sense.

From there we just ordered pizza and watched movies. It was such a simple thing to do, but with him it felt special. When it was all over, I crashed in his designated room. There was almost nothing in it, but still it suited him. Minimalistic in a sense, but still full of personality. I laid in bed and thought about today. Everytime I thought about Topper, an uncontrollable smile covered my face, but guilt came with it. I was something with his best friend. Rafe and I weren’t really dating, but we were. There were no labels, but I knew what was going on. I didn’t want to hurt him, but how could I continue to ignore these feelings for Topper?

Those thoughts kept me up all night. I couldn’t sleep knowing that I was doing everything so wrong. I didn’t even know how Topper felt about me and jumping to conclusions wasn’t doing me any favors. My thoughts and worries swirled around my head like a whirlpool, harsh and uncontrollable. I walked down the steps the next morning and heard Topper on the phone with his mom.

“I’m with Kelce, chill out. I’ll handle it when I get home,” he muttered. I frowned as I realized that I stole him from his everyday life. He had expectations at home and he had people who wanted him there. “Yeah, I’ll talk to Sarah when I get back.”

Sarah. Every doubt I had about loving Topper came back with one mention of her name. Did he still love her? Would I ever compare to her? I didn’t want to think like that, that’s one of the reasons I gave him up. I walked into the room like I hadn’t been listening to his phone call and pulled a piece of pizza out of the fridge. I smiled at him when I caught his eye and he smiled back. Even this early in the morning, he looked handsome. I hated it. He walked out onto the patio to finish his conversation, leaving me to think about how the past 24 hours had felt like a dream. A dream that I needed to wake up from.

We caught a ferry home and smiled as we walked back to where his car was parked. I grabbed my bear out of the passenger seat and thanked him for taking my mind of everything. I knew from the phone call with his mom that he had things to do and I didn’t want to keep him from them. Plus, I had no intention on going home yet.

“Are you sure you don’t want a ride home?” he asked me, his voice laced with concern. I nodded and hugged the bear tightly to my chest. “Rory, I can give you a ride somewhere else too if you want. At least let me get you back to your car.”

“I’m fine, bottom,” I snickered. He rolled his eyes as his nickname came back for a reprise. I knew that secretly he loved it though. He sighed and told me to come over when I went home so he knew I was alright. I nodded confidently and held out my pinky to pinky swear. He shook his head, smiling at how childish I could be sometimes. He obliged though and we promised on it.

I felt my smile fade as he drove away. It was like you were waking up from a dream that you wished could keep going. I bit my lips together and walked back in the direction of the beach. The adventure I had just had with Topper swirled through my head endlessly. It made my stomach drop into the pit of my stomach, because I knew that home was the next step. Knowing that made me walk a little slower, but it didn’t stop me.

I reached the beach and got into my car, sitting there for a moment before starting it up. The interior was burning hot, but that discomfort was worth not having to walk anymore today. It was a short drive, but wanted it to last forever. No amount of time would be enough to ease my nerves. Luckily, I had promised Top to tell him when we came home.

I walked up the steps to his house and heard some yelling inside the house. I frowned as I thought about how angry his mom sounded on the phone this morning. I wondered if he was in trouble because of me. As I raised my hand to knock on the door, I heard his mom’s voice ring out loud and clear.

“Go talk to Sarah or you end up with someone like that girl next door,” she yelled at him. My shoulders sank as I slowly lowered my hand back down to my side. In that moment, I realized why I had given up on Topper. I would never be good enough for him… A guy like him deserved someone who could give him the world, but I had nothing to provide. I would just be dragging him into my mess of a life, just like I had done yesterday. Then the door opened and a body walked right into me.

“Rory…” he said. I knew that I wasn’t concealing my feelings and that he could read you like a book. “I’m sor-”

“Don’t be,” I interrupted. “She isn’t the first mom not to like me.”

He didn’t laugh at my joke. He saw right through my coping mechanism and pulled me into his arms. Only now when he did that, I only felt guilt. A girl like me would ruin his life. I told him that I should go inside and he nodded, observing my face closely. Now that he knew what my real smile was like, lying to him would be a million times harder. I didn’t even try to tell him I would be fine, because I knew he would see through me. He released me from his hold and let me walk away, never taking his eyes off me.

Upon entering my home, dad immediately ran to me. He pulled me into his arms and muttered how sorry he was. His arms around me used to comfort me, but now it made me feel trapped. I just wanted to go up to my room without seeing my mom. I just wanted to go undetected, but Skipper ruined that dream. As soon as he saw me, he yelled out and ran over to me. I knew that he was scared from the events that took place yesterday. I had never acted out before and I was always the one to pick up the pieces. He had never seen mom spiral so far and I wasn’t there to be his big sister.

“Aurora…?” a small voice rang out. My eyes looked up to see my mom. She looked as if she hadn’t slept at all. I stared at her, knowing that I couldn’t stay here. Just seeing her made me feel like I couldn’t breath anymore.

“I’m just grabbing stuff,” I said without thinking. I didn’t even know where I’d go for sure. I walked towards the steps, but my dad grabbed my arm. He raised his voice, saying that I lived under his roof. He said I couldn’t just come and leave as I pleased. He said that I was being ungrateful. My heart broke as my dad told me off. He had always been understanding of how I felt, but ever since moving here, everything was different. “Dad…”

He didn’t stop though. He told me that we were all having a hard time adjusting. He told me to stop being selfish. The way he looked at me was like a bullet through the heart. Tears filled my eyes and as he saw that, his expression softened. He realized what I went through yesterday and regretted raising his voice, but I could tell that he meant ever word he said.

“I’m suffocating here,” I said in a flat voice. I began to block out every emotion and disassociate with the situation. “When I see mom, I can’t breathe. If I stay here, I feel like I’m tieing my own noose. I can’t be here right now.”

I didn’t give him a chance to respond to me. I just pulled my arm from him gently and walked up to my room. I packed a small bag, throwing everything I needed in hapharzardly. I heard a small knock on the door and saw Skipper peering at me. I frowned and walked over to him, pulling him into a hug. He was a sensitive kid, even if it wasn’t obvious to others. I muttered I was sorry and that he had to be strong. He nodded and told me to tell him when I found a place to stay. I agreed and walked towards the front door, waving sadly at him as I left.

I walked over to the only place I knew I was welcome, Rafe’s house. He pulled me into his arms as soon as he saw me. As his arms tightened around me, guilt filled my being. I knew that my feelings for Topper were undeniable and it was horrible to lead Rafe on. He pulled away and stared at me, wondering what was wrong. He tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear and observed my face carefully. Then, in a last ditch effort to make me smile he said the three words that should’ve made me happier than any other girl.

“I love you,” he said. My stomach dropped as I stared up at him unable to say it back. I opened my mouth to say anything, but no sound came out. He just looked at me, a soft smile spread across my face. I watched as it started to fade as moments went by. I panicked. Everything was happening so quickly and you couldn’t process what was going on.

“I-I love you,” I stuttered out. I didn’t mean it yet though. I knew it was wrong, but that part of me that didn’t want to let people down began to kick in. He just cupped my face in his hands and placed a kiss on my forehead. He stared down at me with a huge smile. His face was full of pride, much like Topper’s was yesterday. However, his was different. Topper’s was proud and Rafe’s was almost cocky.

“Hey, Buttercup? I need you to do me a favor,” he muttered. At this point he knew exactly how to manipulate me… “If you love me, you’ll do this for more.”

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[project-rebirth]

There is something that has been on my mind and like to get off my chest for a bit.

To clear things up before I get into it, I am only adding my own two cents on the matter since this wouldn’t even be happening if it wasn’t for what I did. I would ask that you not reach out to any of the persons involved regarding this matter if you somehow know who they are. I won’t namedrop anyone involved and will just be adding my own thoughts on the matter since this again, would not have come up were it not for me.

Truthfully speaking, there is only one person who shares the blame for the situation at hand and that is me. A year ago, I did something that many in the RPC would arguably agree to be the height of heresy, and would and should be frowned upon. Person A’s response to what I did was completely justified, and I took full responsibility for what happened. Person B on the other hand, jumped the gun in some sort of attempt to defend me, even when it was not necessary nor warranted. They may not have known the full details of what happened at the time, (Which is why I urge people to look at both sides of an argument before jumping to conclusions), but that is here nor there. The fault lay in me for not explaining things concisely and not in time before people jumped to conclusions about who was really at fault.

Despite this rashness, I hold no ill-will towards person B. I understand that their intentions were to stand up for me, but those intentions were horridly misguided and unnecessary. If anything, that venom should have been directed AT ME.

I apologized for my actions and my position on this remains unchanged. I should have known better at the time and I accepted the punishment that was to come from that. For those of you who are wondering what I did, it was basically OC theft, something which many would frown upon for obvious reasons.

I will not make excuses to defend what I did last year, but I feel the need to explain what was going in with me during this time period, just to paint the picture of who truly is responsible for the events unfolded. 

This was around January/Febuary, a time when I was still fairly new to the Tumblr RPC and it was during this specific time period where I was under lots of stress, from a rather uncomfortable birthday dinner which added to my existential crisis issues, to the world situation that was developing not making things better. To add on this, an active mutual of mine decided to cut ties which left me  feeling awful, so that only added to the list of problems I was having.

I feel the biggest contributor was the fact that I was still the mindset of the fanfic I had been writing before coming to the RPC and thought that certain things that were okay with certain people would be fine over here --- which turns out that was not the case at all. It was ultimately hubris in thinking that a collaborative fanfic writing was the same as writing on here, and it was the height of arrogance to assume that someone would be okay with something just because we were close and worked on projects together. I should have asked instead of assuming and I realize my folly.

Overall, I was a very toxic piece of crap back then who didn’t know when to suppress his feelings and shut up about his worries. I should have been better than what I was, and the fallout from this is one of the biggest regrets I will always have.

Which brings us to now.

A year has passed and we have mostly moved passed the incident. (I still regret it but that’s beside the point). Now, it has come to my attention that this incident that was caused by my immaturity and arrogance has resulted in bad blood between the other two parties. Person A is justified in their anger and my thoughts on Person B still stand, but this has left me a bad taste in my mouth.

What bothers me isn’t the fact that Person A wants nothing to do with Person B, but rather, that this whole rift would not have existed if it wasn’t for me.

It is rather heartbreaking to know that I am directly responsible for the reason why two mutuals of mine aren’t on good terms. Had I not did what I did, had I handled the situation differently back then, like simply apologized then delete the blog it took place on before things developed into what it did, they would not be on bad terms with each other.

And this is a fact that I will have to live with.

This is entirely my fault, that two people can no longer interact with each other because of my immaturity, my arrogance, and my toxicity. If I had been removed from the equation and had not “created” those damn OCs, these two would probably be interacting with each other with no bad blood whatsoever.

These are just more consequences to the actions I made and I have to accept it, but it’s still disheartening for things to have developed this way.

I apologized for my actions one year ago, and I must apologize now. To Person A, I apologize for using your OCs without your permission and the pain that I had caused as a result of it. I know you want to put this behind you, but I still feel the need to apologize.

To Person B, I apologize for unintentionally getting you involved. Even though you did jump the gun and inserted yourself into the situation where it wasn’t warranted, and without all of the facts, I understand why you did it and that in your mind, you were trying to defend a mutual from something you perceived to be an unfair affair. Even though you are at fault for the things you said, It was because of me that lead you to say those things in the first place. I should have made things more clear so that you or anyone else didn’t jump to conclusions based on what you were seeing, so I apologize for any strife this whole ordeal may have caused. I would ask that if I were to find myself in a similar situation again, that you not be so eager to jump to my defence. 

And to both of you equally, I apologize for creating this rift between you. You could have had great interactions with each other, but those opportunities have been destroyed because of something I had done one year ago. I am sorry for everything. I am sorry it came to this. I am sorry for my fatal mistake and I am sorry for hurting you both. I just wanted to get that out there, first and foremost, for closure.

That’s all I have to say on this matter.

[blogbypratz]

What are the ways to be better at Marketing?

With the rapid development of the technology, many changes in the marketing scene in short periods of time. Therefore, as you try the tactics you know, you are also in a constant search to learn new things.

Otherwise, it will be difficult to stay relevant and achieve your goals. Changes also occur over time in the marketing channels you know. For example, 17 years ago, you just need to understand how to send emails blast to be a good Email Marketing. Today, however, you need a thorough understanding of automated messaging sequences just to get through it.

As you navigate the turbulent seas of marketing, it's important that you don't lose sight of one of your main audiences: your local market. However, you may need to use some targeted strategies to reach this target audience.

The untruthful truth is that the basic assumptions behind "Marketing" haven't changed for decades. While you can use a little more effective channels such as social media, "more creative" ideas, or more productive mechanisms, it's a militaristic and contradictory school of thought that is largely about stacking "products" in seagulls that are already overloaded with "consumers" by focusing on "messages" with illusory and imaginary benefits. In big "campaigns" making exaggerated promises. Marketing as we know it is still largely on talking down.

There are many ways to reach your desired markets. Not all types of strategy will work for every business but the ones mentioned below can help you in the long run :-

1.       Knowing your target audience

The first and most important step in developing a marketing campaign is to find out who your audience is. Not only do you need to know which group the ideal customer belongs to, but you should also have an idea of the interests of the ideal customer and what will appeal to them. You should also know where your audience is. For example, on which social media platforms does their audience spend the most time?

2.       Knowing your market

The success of a marketing organization depends on its ability to understand its target market. The distributor, who can effectively understand and articulate what customers and competitors do, has a basic marketing skill. Becoming the voice of the customer is especially valuable for a company. Distributors, able to collect quantitative and qualitative data on customers and strategically present their executives, are very valuable. Another point - it's not just about collecting survey data. Direct conversations with clients are essential to this effort and are generally more valuable than survey data.

3.       Take part in your community activities

Find local events in your community and participate. Volunteer for something in your community and wear T-shirts with your logo. Donate prizes for sweepstakes and sweepstakes that engage your community and feel like returning to your business.

4.       Making use of local directories

A simple way to drive local traffic is to make sure you are displayed in local search results. You can do this by listing them on Yelp, White pages, Angie's List and other local directories.

5.       Become a storyteller

A big part of creating a remarkable customer experience is telling a good story. It is more difficult than ever to attract a customer's attention. That's why distributors like Seth Godin believe storytelling is essential for successful marketing. Distributors must be good storytellers, for the simple reason that customers identify more than anything with compelling stories.

The most successful marketing campaigns tell a story that customers identify with emotionally. Distributors, who can tell great stories to their customers through a multitude of marketing campaigns, are indispensable in a world where attracting customer attention can be a challenge.

6.       Creating and designing visual content

Over the years, visual content has grown in popularity. And now it has come to the point where your ability to create visual content should be a basic marketing skill.

After all, if 54% of consumers are waiting for videos from brands, you need to produce this type of content. In addition to your customers' expectations, visual content can help you deliver your marketing messages more efficiently.

7.       Try everything that is possible

Many marketing professionals make decisions based on their instincts, but with the wealth of data available to them, that doesn't have to be the case. Good marketing professionals are constantly testing things like new marketing campaigns, an advertising copy, and pricing to turn data into business results.

Fortunately, there are now a number of tools, such as online advertising platforms and SaaS tools, that make testing easier than ever. For example, simple A/B tests will help you test the effectiveness of offers, copies and designs.

8.       Making use of Social Media to engage with audience

Social media can be a great way to connect with an audience in a professional but humane way. Social Media Marketing Agency in Mumbai makes use of social channels where local audiences answer customer questions and chat with your audience.

9.       Establish yourself as an authority

Write blog entries that answer questions from customers in your industry. Ask experts to answer questions on websites such as Quora, business.com and other forums and consulting platforms.

10.   Making use of customer data in decision making process

Distributors now have access to a huge amount of data. This allows companies to better understand their customers than before. Distributors who learn to collect and analyze customer data to make better decisions will be in high demand in the decades to come.

Whether this data is used to easily understand the market or to create and optimize more effective marketing campaigns, most employers are looking for people who can use data. A statistical context, an in-depth knowledge of Excel and an understanding of analytical tools are useful skills in this area. And don't forget that some of the valuable customer data comes in the form of one-on-one customer interviews.

11.   Gathering and posting testimonials

People are more likely to post negative comments than good ones, but if you find positive comments, make sure you share them and post them on other websites. If you have positive interactions with customers, encourage them to write and share good reviews.

12.   Running local SEO Campaigns

You can use software like Google AdWords to create REFERENCE campaigns to promote local online and in-store traffic. Look at pay-per click campaigns and other SEO options.

13.   Cross-promote with other local businesses

Cross-promotion is a very efficient marketing method; It is a mutually beneficial marketing method that involves two or more companies that engage with each other's customers. This allows each company to attract more customers and increase overall sales. This method is highly revered because it provides immediate exposure to a wide range of potential customers with minimal effort.

14.   Making website Mobile friendly

According to mobile searches, one of the best ways for local customers to find and display information about Marketing Agency in Mumbai. If you haven't mobilized your business yet, it could work wonders in terms of local marketing. Those who use mobile searches are usually already close to you and are looking to dominate local businesses. Taking the time to mobilize your business could boost business overnight.

15.   Obtaining insights from analytics

For each marketing campaign, you have goals that need to be specified by key performance indicators. For example, if you are running an awareness campaign for the brand, what figures need to be analyzed? What happens if a campaign to take over interested parties takes place?

Google Analytics is a popular analytics tool that you need to master. Here you will find details such as the number of visitors, the rebound rate, the time on the page, and more. You can even track the goals of your landing pages.

There are other analytics tools that you can use to collect important data about your social media, email and search engine marketing campaigns. To become a better marketing specialist, you need to be able to collect data and, more importantly, gain valuable information.

Conclusion –

Applying and adapting different marketing strategies based on the goals and the live data usually helps to make desired changes. No matter whatever might be your marketing campaign, you are forced to make changes and make sure your marketing campaign keeps helping your marketing goals.

[weaverlings]

dictionary definition

so this is another thing that mostly happened because I wanted art of Cecil and Carlos cuddling but I can’t draw well enough for that so I had to try to write something that captured the feeling

and god knows we need some fluff right now

ao3 link

cw: animal death (Glow Cloud-related)

Perfect was a word that had waxed and waned its way through their relationship. 

Once, Cecil had described Carlos this way first and foremost, had understood him mainly through this: that Carlos was an epitome of a person, beautiful and intelligent and really any other positive adjective you might choose. Any adjective, and Carlos was the superlative of that.  Cecil had reported on this extensively: playing with the words, unable to make them sound wrong in any way.

And Carlos had known that this was true about Cecil, too. Known and feared, because, well, from the perspective of mere facts and logic, there were so many more unknowns than that one, large, looming known. These had included, but were not limited to: his danger meter never dipping below blood orange, the incident at the Pinkberry, and simply how long his funding would last. Of all that he feared in Night Vale, perhaps the most frightening was this: Cecil's feelings were mutual. It was the least scientific thing he had to be scared of, but that was only a contributing factor. 

So Carlos had hypothesized briefly: if he didn't even know how long he'd stay in Night Vale, it would have been deeply foolish to initiate a relationship, even when there was a man with a voice like that (always, always written and described and thought as such - there was no suitable scientific descriptor beyond italics), and who spoke with it so enthusiastically about, well, everything. Cecil loved the world the way a scientist did, Carlos thought, and that was perfect. 

Why couldn't he say it as easily as Cecil did? Carlos felt like he understood the weight of it better. But maybe that wasn't a fair statement. He couldn't assume that it was anything better or worse. Different. It was just different.  Even when they did start dating, when Carlos had learned something about fear and something else about innocence, and when Cecil still insisted on perfection.

Cecil learned otherwise soon enough. He understood that Carlos was not perfect any more than he was, and it was only after the risk had passed that Carlos could explain a key component of his own fear: that Cecil would see Carlos for who he was, imperfect, and that would be it. Over. Done. 

Like: Carlos was private to the point of pain, but then, Cecil had a warped idea of privacy in the first place. 

Or else like: 

"You know, you're just ruining perfectly good coffee," Cecil chided over breakfast, as Carlos stirred in milk and sugar.

"It's science, babe. Milk binds to tannins in the coffee, making it less bitter. And less bitter things taste better. Ahh, science." Carlos nudged their mugs together. "Cheers!" 

Cecil learned, and they persisted. That, on its own, was not enough enough for the risk to pass. What really did it was: Cecil wasn't perfect, either, and Carlos wanted to stay with him, anyway.

Like: Cecil had no boundaries between his personal and professional lives, while Carlos maintained his so carefully that he had accurate pie graph to show how he divided his day.

And sometimes: 

"Oh, my god, how can you see? Give me that!" Carlos held out his hand for Cecil's reading glasses', his own microfiber cloth at the ready.

Cecil shrugged, and pushed his glasses up on his nose. "I can see just fine."

No, they were not perfect, and this would not tear them apart melodramatically or break them up quietly. None of the dates ended awkwardly, or, many of them did. But it was comfortable. It was mutual, one of many things they could share. And Carlos learned another thing about fear, and the shape of perfection in his own mouth. 

Because there was also this: the living room couch, again. Not always, but usually. Cecil, running his fingers through Carlos' hair, catching strands gently, murmured, "Perfect. Oh, my perfect Carlos…"

And Carlos caught Cecil's free hand, kissed his palm and agreed into it, "Mhm. Perfect."

A quiet evening. Just them and the rhythmic thuds of dead animals hitting the roof, following a contentious school board meeting earlier that day. But they'd just had their roof repaired, so it was fine. Better than fine. 

Perfect, Carlos thought, although that time, he mainly meant it for emphasis.

- - -

They waited on the plush vinyl bench for the host to notice them and run away screaming. They leaned in close to each other, speaking in hushed tones about Lance's poor arachnid identification skills - he had tried to offer a scorpion coffee, thinking it was a sales tarantula. They laughed in whispers, as private as anything in Night Vale could be. 

Carlos shifted on the bench. He glanced down and smoothed his skirt and took in the shape of Cecil's legs, crossed over each other.

"Oh, you're just perfect," Carlos said, as if struck suddenly. He was. One hand cupped his fiance's cheek, and the other held Cecil's hair back, to perfectly reveal a deep flush. Cecil's mouth opened, with wonder and desire and all the heat that he could feel in his face, and it was a beautiful expression. 

Carlos said, "You're beautiful. There's no scientific definition of beauty - the one scientific thing about beauty is that it's subjective. But if anyone thought otherwise, they would be wrong. You're beautiful. Perfect."  

"Carlos…" Cecil breathed.

"Don't argue. It's definitely science. There's only one scientific thing about beauty, yes. But it is a scientific fact about you that you are beautiful. In conclusion: so there." He kissed Cecil on the forehead. 

Cecil smiled slowly, giddily. "Uh-huh. Okay. Whatever you say, Doctor."

He looped his arms around Carlos' neck, and pressed a kiss to his lips. "This is perfect, isn't it? This… I never want it to end..."

The host shrieked, and sprinted into the restaurant. They knocked over their own stand in their hurry to flee, and it clattered with a violent ambiance that perfectly suited the Tourniquet dining experience. 

Cecil stood up. "But also, I'm actually pretty hungry. Sounds like our table is ready. Shall we go, my dear?"

"Oh, absolutely. I'm starving." 

Cecil offered an arm, and Carlos allowed his fiance to escort him to their table.

- - -

Cecil rolled over in bed. He had been perfectly comfortable before; his only reason for shifting was to lay an arm over Carlos' chest and press his face into his husband's neck. He nuzzled into Carlos' skin, which smelled faintly of formaldehyde under the lavender of his soap. Cecil nuzzled and kissed and cooed. 

"Perfect Carlos…"

Carlos set his phone down on his nightstand, and lifted Cecil's chin to kiss him. Cecil sighed into it, squeezing a remarkable amount of adoration into a single breath. 

"Scientifically speaking, that is my name…" Carlos tapped Cecil's nose and then, finally, just asked. "Hey. What does that mean to you, anyway?"

"What? You? You mean everything to me, Carlos."

Carlos shook his head, and then cut the gesture off to nod. "No. Oh, well, yes, you, too, but. I meant perfect. What does perfect mean to you? Because it seems like you've always thought that about me, and I, well, a lot of things are mutual. Mutualism is a scientific concept that isn't really relevant here. But that's mutual, too - what you said. 

"And I've thought about what perfection means to me: it means, if reverence can be teasing, or if love can be stillness and not something with wild momentum. Except that's all hypotheticals - not a hypothesis, because I have no idea what the result of those conditions would be, and also you're not perfect, and I'm not either. So I guess I still don't get it?"

He flopped back onto his pillow and shrugged into it, and lifted his hands palm-up to carefully emphasize his confusion.

"Ah," said Cecil. His lips twitched, his eyes flicking back and forth thoughtfully, until he settled on a smile. "Well, maybe I have some science for you."

"Oh?" 

Cecil arranged himself onto his elbow, leaning over Carlos. "Yes. I was talking to Nilanjana before I picked you up the other day. I was like, 'Hey, Nilanjana, how's the experiment going?' And she said it was going perfectly, which I thought was weird, like, nothing is perfect, right? Perfection isn't real. I told her that. I, uh, may have scoffed it."

He paused, straightening Carlos' lab coat over his nightgown, and then not letting go over the fabric. He teased the lapel in his fingertips, undoing his own adjustment as he went on, "Anyway, she explained to me that while one way to understand perfect is 'free of flaws,' that's not the only way. It can just be..." 

Cecil released Carlos' lab coat, and shifted further, lying almost on top of Carlos. Carlos' breath caught, and Cecil asked, "Is this okay?"

Carlos shifted an arm, reaching up to lay a hand on his husband's shoulder. "Oh. Yes. Go on."

Cecil let his body settle over Carlos', careful about the amount of pressure he applied. But he knew what Carlos liked. He balanced himself on an elbow again, bringing himself close to his husband and kissing his cheek. With his other hand, he caressed that oh-so-perfect hair. 

"Right… Perfect can just be something that is at its best, or most complete. And a lot of the time, people take that to mean that it's free of flaws. But it can just mean… You know, complete. You wouldn't add anything. Or take anything away." Another kiss, just because, just at Carlos' temple. "It can just mean that something is the way it's supposed to be, and why can't that include some flaws?"

This time, a string of kisses, tracing from Carlos' temple over the strands of gray in his hair.

"You are everything you are supposed to be. What that is may change - no, it will, and it will still be perfect, because it's you. You are always perfect, because you are always everything you're supposed to be, and I will always, always love you for it. I will never not love you. You will never not be perfect to me." 

Carlos tilted his chin up, an invitation for Cecil to kiss his neck which was promptly taken. Carlos said, breathlessly, "Oh. Okay." 

Cecil laughed, "Okay?"

"That makes a lot of sense. Scientifically, I mean. And I like it. Speaking personally, just, you know, for myself - I like that definition of perfection. And you. I love you!"

"Yeah, well, guess what? I love you, too!" 

That was perfect, and it was human, and it was real. 

[zoe-oneesama]

I'm sorry if this seems rude, but your treatment of Alya makes me very uncomfortable. This isn't something you're entirely to blame for, as a good chunk of the fandom treats her very poorly (with either ignoring her or reducing her role to "ships the lovesquare"), but the amount of comics and posts you've made about punishing Alya feels a little extreme to me at this point. I understand the salt after chameleon, but everyone was ooc in that ep. Also it's been over a month. (1/2)

I will start by saying thank you for coming to me with your complaints in honestly the nicest way you possibly could, I really appreciate you taking a very calm and critical tone in approaching me with a genuine concern.

I will also point out I can’t think of any comics I’ve made attacking Alya or punishing her, so I’m not sure what you mean by that, but maybe I’ve re blogged someone else’s comic and it’s not coming to mind right now. But I also try hard to tag stuff so people can block the rants they don’t want to see. I guess the probelm is I use the #alya salt tag instead of #anti alya.

And I can agree that Alya’s characterization has gotten out of hand in the fanon vs canon, particularly when we had that long hiatus so fanon Alya bled into the consciousness and confused what actually is canon Alya.

However I won’t apologize for being critical of Alya. I will try to explain my own reasoning for you though so maybe you can understand where I’m coming from. 

My two main criticisms of Alya are 1) She’s not a good journalist and 2) She disregards Marinette’s feelings even though she’s her best friend.

The Good Journalist is something that I personally think is a fanon idea. Her being an ethical, searches only for the truth reporter who has integrity about the facts came from the hiatus, and my position on this is supported in canon.

When Marinette’s identity, the secret she holds most dear, is in jeopardy, because it’s Alya who is making the claim, she is unconcerned. If Alya was a threat to her identity (i.e. someone who often had evidence to support their claims) she would be worried, but instead she brushes it off. Like it’s not the first time Alya’s pitched a theory from left field at her. Even Nino laughs right in her face.

Volpina backs this up with her posting an unverified video of Lila claiming to be best friends with Ladybug without getting any sources or evidence that it could be true. In doing this, not only is she reducing her blog to a gossip column, but she is directly endangering this girl by blasting her relationship with a Superhero where anyone could see it. Because her scoop is more important that truth.

There’s also her crusade to find out Ladybug’s secret identity, something that, having established she’s a huge superhero comic fan, she should know the repercussions of. Endangerment of self, friends, and family in the face of a very dangerous super villain. It continues to prove where Alya’s priorities are.

But I actually want to make something clear: Being a bad journalist is not something I hate Alya for. She’s a young, immature girl. She’s wrapped in the excitement of magic and superheroes and is riding the hype to it’s conclusion. It’s partially Ladybug’s fault for indulging in Alya and being biased towards her friend that Alya has the platform she has and the belief in her abilities. And Alya does put a lot of hard work into her journalism, she just needs to do more growing and get a better understanding of what ethical journalism is.

I’m just critical of it because of the fanon warping her into this amazing journalist when she’s just a kid with no self preservation and tenacity. 

The Bad Friend thing is what imagine you mostly came here for. And I want to make it clear here as well: I don’t think Alya is a terrible friend. Most of the time I don’t think she’s even a bad friend. But what happened in Volpina, Heroes Day, and Chameleon hit me in a bad way.

In Volpina, we see Marinette express concern about Lila hanging over Adrien and Alya dismisses her to gush over her blog.

I didn’t have a problem with this when it first came out. Marinette knows Lila is a liar only because she is Ladybug and so she knows Lila is lying in her interview. Marinette has a problem with liars AND a jealousy problem that has gone unchecked by Volpina. But from Alya’s perspective, Marinette is being unreasonably possessive and is prone to over reacting. She has no obligation to interfere with Adrien and Lila just because Marinette is feeling territorial.

This only becomes an issue in addition to the other two episodes. 

In Heroes Day we get this gem of a line, which is really irritating, esPECIALLY because as a series finale it had to come after Frozer, which proved that Marinette has made great strides in overcoming her jealousy. As her best friend, Alya should be giving Marinette the benefit of the doubt, not Lila. But instead, she doesn’t ask what Marinette’s problem is with Lila she just assumes it without opening discussion about what could be bothering her usually kind and accommodating best friend. Compound it with her dismissal of Marinette in Volpina, and I’m beginning to get weary. 

But then Chameleon. Ooooooh Chameleon. Let me count the ways Alya specifically failed as a friend:

1) Kicked Marinette out if her seat without asking

2) Replaced Marinette as her seatmate with her boyfriend without asking

3) Pushing Marinette to the back row seat alone without asking

4) When Marinette claims Lila is lying, Alya asks for Marinette to prove Lila isn’t telling the truth instead of investigating if Lila is telling the truth.

5) Pulls that not apology apology that puts the blame on Marinette for getting upset about the situation. 

(gif by @oui-ladybug)

That last on is subject to interpretation, but look at it closely, There’s no “I’m sorry for putting you in that situation without your consent.” No “I’m sorry for not taking your feelings into account.” 

This throw away line is like someone saying “I’m sorry YOU got upset.” Like you overreacted. Like it’s your fault you got hurt.

You may say I’m reaching, and I’ll admit my interpretation is probably not a universal one. I’ve made no secret of it in past posts. I have a personal issue with how Alya acts in regard to Marinette’s feelings. 

I had a best friend from the age of 5 to 20. Looking back I can find a lot of flaws in our friendship but at the time I thought it was great, mutually supportive and filled with love. Until she started dating. She had a boyfriend her last two years of high school and up to around the time we stopped being friends. She was attached at the hip to him, spending all her free time with him instead of me and bringing him to outings with us without asking me first. I tried to hide my discomfort because I had already almost lost her friendship by throwing up a fuss over her dating him - because he was my ex (first!) boyfriend. But I put my feelings aside because she was really into him and I valued our friendship more than this dumb guy. But apparently I was the only one.

Things went downhill fast when we graduated high school. She and her boyfriend stayed at home and went to a local college (no shame there) and I went to a university 3 hours away. We weren’t going to see each other near as often obviously, but we had always been very good at texting and calling each other so I wasn’t worried. But she didn’t text me anymore. She never called. All contact I had to initiate first. She never made the drive up to see me unless she needed something (she stayed at my place when she wanted to go to the Renaissance Fair nearby my college). 

But what hurt most is when I would drive down to see her. I’d drive the three hours, having made plans weeks in advance to make sure it worked around our schedules, only for her to cancel last minute on me. Because she wanted to hang out with her boyfriend instead. The same boyfriend she saw LITERALLY everyday. And it happened multiple times.

She didn’t care what I did for her. She didn’t respect my time or effort or feelings. She assumed I’d be fine with it. She assumed I wouldn’t mind or if I did I’d “get over it” like I always do (get over it as in grin and bear it). She made decisions for me and without regard to what I thought. She just wanted a cardboard cutout to call Best Friend without actually putting in any of the work.

There are plenty of other things that started to bother me about our friendship, but because this is what ultimately ended it it’s what bothers me the most. So I take personal offense with Alya making assumptions about Marinette’s feelings and justifications without asking. I have issues with Alya making decisions for Marinette without asking. And I especially have issues with Alya choosing her boyfriend over her best friend because that hits me personally.

I know Chameleon was OOc for the characters…for MOST of the characters. But Alya? This has been building up. It’s not the first time. It’s just the most egregious time.

And a bonus it’s really annoying that Alya assumes Marinette is crazy jealous when a few of Marinette’s craziest moments are a result of Alya’s insistence or pushing OR Alya tries to steer her away from making mature decisions.

Marinette stealing Adrien’s phone?

Marinette making an elaborate scheme to separate Adrien from his bodyguard to go on a date with him?

Marinette tries to be realistic and help Adrien on his date while simultaneously letting him go?

Alya was one of those cases where one event made me think back really hard about her role as Marinette’s best friend and just what kind of hand she’s had in shaping Marinette’s behavior, and honestly? She’s not the amazing friend I remembered her as in Season 1. Which sucks! Because I lOVEd Alya. A sassy mom friend who takes no shit and gets shit done? A gorgeous POC that pushed her friend to make things happen for herself?! Yes please!

So I still hate on Chameleon, not just for the episode, but for the wakeup call I DIDN’t ask for!!

p.s. the reason I’m still salting on it is because the episode totally failed to resolve Alya’s issues in this episode. i.e. being a hypocrite.

[ivadeshin]

Careful Steps (Essik/Caleb) (4/4)

(catch up over on ao3)

It is ten minutes past seven, and Caleb Widogast was due at six for dinner and dunamancy. Until tonight, Caleb has never once been late.

Shadowhand Essik Theylas sits in his library and reflects upon his possible failure.

Ruanill has been an honest and dedicated servant for several years now. Essik has no doubt that Ruanill’s account is accurate and that his estimation of the firbolg’s intentions is, at the very least, worth considering. Essik has come to the conclusion that it is very possible that Caduceus Clay made, even after Ruanill’s positive declarations, that the match was a poor one for some reason. 

There would be no shame in this. A firbolg’s standards for what makes a fine person or finely selected partner are a complete mystery to Essik. Caduceus was a queer sort who was clearly bonded to the soil and not to any particular line drawn across it, and Essik felt sure that any amount of Empire research would leave him poorly prepared for understanding the firbolg’s values.

“Shadowhand?” Ruanill stands in the doorway with the dessert wine. Essik looks from the library hearth to his empty glass, sighs, and extends his hand for a second glass.

Ruanill looks ready to say something. Or for Essik to say something. Essik does not indulge this desire.

Ruanill turns first - his ears pricked up, looking toward the hall. Essik hears it next, notices Ruanill has forgotten his duties, and reaches his other hand out to tip the wine bottle back up before it spills over the rim.

“Someone approaches my door and you forget yourself,” Essik says evenly. “I’ve been said to be a solitary man, but you certainly put a fine point on it.”

“I apologize, Shadowhand.” Ruanill swallows and pulls the wine bottle back to his chest, moving back to the doorway. “Elamas and I have been discussing Mr. Widogast’s lateness, and were concerned that something may have happened to him.”

Did that seem to be so much more likely than the human simply choosing not to attend? Essik has no time to ask - Ruanill has bowed and exited, and quiet voices are coming from the hall. Elamas is speaking, and then - yes, Caleb, voice high and tense - and there are footsteps. Essik pushes his shoulders back, sets his glass down, and rises from the settee to receive his guest.

Caleb looks unusually rugged, wearing his original Kryn attire with scuffs across the charcoal boots and muted purple coat. His hair is somewhat out of place, and - his jawline and cheeks are obscured by the red-brown scruff of his beard coming back in. Something stirs in Essik’s chest that he cannot stifle.

“Good evening, Caleb Widogast.” Essik bows very shortly at the waist, allowing some of his concern to shine through. Caleb does not look injured, but Essik realizes now that he smells like... a cave. “Are you well?”

“I fucked up,” Caleb says curtly, and then freezes, puts his hand over his face, and takes a breath. “I - we were out of spells. I meant to ask Jester or Caduceus to send you a message, and by the time I remembered, we were all spent. I’m sorry.”

Essik drifts forward, receiving Caleb with a gentle nod and gesturing him toward the settee to get some warmth from the fire. He knows better than to ask for his coat - Elamas gave up after the second visit. “You are hardly an hour late. Is the rest of your group well? What exhausted you so?”

Caleb allows himself to be directed, although his head is still ducked apologetically. Even as weary as he is, he seems to feel the weight of his late arrival very heavily. “We’re fine, danke, we made it out fine... it was the last portal. Out in the Ghostlands. Our direct route there worked, downhill, but even with the moorbounders, we... had to take a roundabout way back. I expected us to return to the city early yesterday, not an hour ago.”

The last of those damned portals, finally out of the way. Essik takes a breath. “You have just returned from a long journey. You must be hungry.”

“No, no, I ate a bead on Jannik, I am fine.”

It takes a moment for Essik to remember that Caleb named his moorbounder. “I- ah.” Essik settles on the arm chair adjacent, giving Caleb a few feet of room. “Are you here to provide a report? I cannot imagine you want to practice, it sounds like all of you have exhausted yourselves to return.”

“Nein, I - we’ll go to the Bright Queen in the morning. Or I can write something down for you, if you like...” Caleb gestures in the air. “I knew you’d be waiting. And that Elamas would have cooked something. I came to apologize.”

This situation was unexpected, but Essik mostly feels relief that Caleb’s absence was not, in fact, a sign of being driven away by a companion’s suggestion, or by Essik himself. He raises a hand to wave it away. “I am very familiar with unusual work and unforeseen changes. It is just good to see that you are well.”

Caleb smiles in relief, shoulders loosening. The firelight flickers across his face, complementing his skin as if it were made to do so. “You don’t have to be so nice, you know.”

Essik is drawn from his reverie. “I beg your pardon?”

“Pretending I don’t make blunders all the time. Taking me out for these expensive dinners. Nein,” He holds up a hand, stopping Essik. “I know those aren’t comped by work, no matter how much of this is...” He gestures between them, ducking his head and looking to the side.

Something clicks in Essik’s mind. “You think our interactions have been... directed?” 

Caleb shrugs. “I have been a cog before. I am not asking you to tell me every detail of what you were asked to do, or what the greater plan is. I understand the Bright Queen wants to keep us as informants. I am comfortable with that alliance.”

“Caleb, I-” Essik pushes himself up from the chair, feeling an unusual moment of hesitance before moving closer and sitting across from Caleb on the setttee. From here, he can see Caleb’s mild surprise as he reads Essik’s serious expression. “I believe you have taken many proven facts and arranged them into an incorrect conclusion.”

Caleb swallows, the color of his cheeks and ears rising in what is now a familiar flush to Essik. “About... which part?”

“Informants are glorified messengers. They may do some spy work to gain new intel, but beyond that, their only value is in what they can tell us.” Essik knows this must be old news to Caleb, but he needs to emphasize a contrast: “Allies have agency. They are worth more than their intel; they have agency, they may even have desires or requests that we grant in order to keep a positive relationship. If they tell us something to help us meet our personal or our mutual goals, all the better. But it is not all they are.”

“So you’re pointing out that we can also fight, and that we’ve also been pressing the Bright Queen to consider less bloody alternatives.” Caleb tilts his head side to side. “That is fair.”

“And,” Essik adds, suppressing frustration that this has to be said explicitly. “allies are treated as equals. They are not pressed or manipulated for whatever information they may have.”

Caleb swallows. “So you are saying... you are not manipulating me.”

“I am not.”

“Then, the dinners? The compliments? The, the tutelage?”

Essik maintains composure as he chooses his words. “The tutelage is exactly as I have framed it. You wish to learn dunamancy to achieve goals that benefit both our sides. And you learn remarkably quickly, so it is hardly a deep investment of my time.”

A beat. “And the rest?” Caleb’s voice sounds very small now. His eyes are still elsewhere, so Essik tries to keep him at ease by keeping his own gaze on the fire.

“Those are in the efforts of my own goals, not the Dynasty’s.”

“I used to wonder...” Caleb gives a short laugh. “I said once that I thought you might be buttering me up for, for some kind of Kryn’s equivalent of the Scourgers... but nobody agreed with me.”

The other defectors? Essik feels his ears twitch up minutely, betraying his interest. “And what were there theories, pray tell?”

“That, um.” Caleb’s second laugh sounds more forced. “After the flowers for our yard, a few days ago, Caduceus said he believed Beau’s theory, that you were pursuing me.”

Essik sneaks a glance. Caleb’s expression has a tension to it, but if Essik is right, its mix of hesitance also has notes of hopefulness. “And what do you believe now?”

“It... would explain... the tone. Of the way you have been building our relationship.”

“Flowers,” Essik supplies helpfully, now fixing Caleb with a carefully arched brow. “Paying for meals. Ordering them for you on occasion.”

Caleb’s eyes widen and flutter a moment. “Th-those are all... Empire classics, ja.”

“Just as Kryn ‘classics’ include scheduling to meet again before departing. Sharing of wine from each other’s glasses.” Essik lets the moment stretch out a few seconds, watching Caleb blink more rapidly, before continuing. “I believe dining alone together and spending time in the late evening are common in both cultures.”

As Caleb swallows, his throat bobs. “So, it was never about my history with the Empire. Or what I can do.”

“The Academy, you mean.”

“You know?”

“It is an extremely educated guess, from a man very familiar with the sins of the Empire and what happens to gifted children with no prospects.” Essik waves his hand dismissively. “There is no ‘Kryn Scourge’ I wish you to join. And I have great interest in the Academy itself, I have far less for your specific knowledge. If I were to ask for it, you may fall under the impression that it was what I find interesting about you.” Essik sweeps an errant lock of hair back into place. “I wish you to remain an ally to help us fight the Empire, but our interactions have been unrelated to that wish. I trust that has been sufficiently forthright.”

Caleb doesn’t speak for a moment. “I want...” His voice is quiet, almost a whisper. “I want you to help me eradicate the Academy. And all the other cancer within my homeland.” A chill seems to run through the room. “Or I can help you do it. I don’t care who strikes the final blow, who gets fanfare, if anyone does at all. I just want it gone.” The conviction in his voice is unquestionable - Essik is too well trained to waste time doubting him. “And,” the human adds, “I have been trying not to make an absolute ass of myself the past few weeks because of how much I didn’t want my personal interest in you to jeopardize that mission.”

Essik’s feels his heart rate pick up, just a fraction. “That has been your struggle, during our meetings?”

“During our - during our d-” Caleb flusters on the word, face tinged pink as he straightens and looks past Essik, toward the glass of wine on the end table. “What was the wine tradition? I fucked it up, didn’t I?” He gestures almost absentmindedly, using mage hand to bring the glass in front of Essik. Startled, Essik takes it. “Here. I will do it properly, this time.”

Essik blinks for a moment. This is a dessert wine, part of him wants to say, but he does not want to ruin this moment of redemption for Caleb. “This is a sweet elderberry wine,” he says with a hint of formality, holding the glass up and then out for Caleb to take it. “The grove is to the west, and this particular vintage is well regarded. Would you like to try a taste?”

Caleb takes the glass, fingers brushing Essik’s and causing more nerves still. Caleb’s eyes flick to Essik’s, awaiting direction of what to say, but Essik remains silent. “Yes, thank you,” Caleb says unsteadily. Essik nods just a touch. Caleb takes a cautious sip of the wine, making a point to savor it.

Essik takes this opportunity to capture this moment in his mind. Caleb’s lashes are fanned across his cheeks, the color still risen on his skin where the firelight touches it. His long fingers, careful on the stem of the glass, are trembling ever so slightly.

“It is delicious,” Caleb breathes. He holds the glass out, then stops short. “Is that - now what?”

Essik can’t help but hold back a smile. “Now you would offer me a taste of whatever you were drinking,” he replies gently, a little apologetic; Caleb had seemed so dead set on righting this now, Essik didn’t have the heart to contradict him.

“Ah.” Caleb is, Essik can tell, thinking back to the several times they did this in restaurants, and Essik was left completely hanging by a ridiculously unobservant dining partner. “Ja, that, that would make sense.” He hands the glass back off to the mage hand, which places it back on the end table.

“It is behind us,” Essik says, too charmed now to think back on those events with anything but amusement. “I was too presumptuous about what would translate across borders.”

“We can improvise,” Caleb says, almost to himself, and then locks eyes with Essik, startling him with the amount of focus and intent. Slowly, deliberately, Caleb reaches a hand up, taking Essik’s cheek with just the barest amount of contact before leaning in and pressing their lips together, softly, still at first and then moving with purpose. Essik returns the kiss, feeling his body stir with a rare surge of desire as Caleb opens his mouth and offers his tongue, shyly, until Essik determines his meaning and allows him in. When Essik chases down the taste of the wine on Caleb’s tongue, the human moans and moves his hand to clutch at his shoulder.

Caleb pulls back for air first. Essik, caught up in the thrill of the moment, reaches out to mirror what Caleb had done, palm light on the human’s cheek. The beard is rough. Soft. Both.

“I think we’re communicating better,” Caleb jokes quietly in the silence of the room.

Essik permits himself to brush his thumb across Caleb’s jawline. Caleb’s eyelashes flutter. “One cannot argue with the improved results,” Essik agrees. Caleb’s cheeks rises in a grin. “Caleb.”

“Yes?”

“I would have you remain here tonight. And stay in my bed. I would please you, and take you, until we both had our fill.”

Caleb’s eyes widen and, in a reaction of shock now familiar to Essik, stares into the middle distance. “Well, that is certainly. Well communicated.”

“If you do not wish to do this tonight, or ever, you need only tell me.”

“Nein, I-” The human swallows again, and this time, Essik allows himself to watch his throat bob. Caleb notices the attention and flushes deeper. It is a marvelous color. “Tonight. Yes. Now?”

“If you wish.” He can feel a pleased smile developing at the corners of his mouth.

It deepens as Caleb rises to his feet swiftly, already moving to the door and reaching for Essik to follow.

[ko-fi]

[ao3]