#without being followed by the recipient. However

[elronds-meleth-nin]

I Could Love You With My Eyes Closed

I heard a song and one of the lines got stuck in my head, so here's a fic. (If you're curious, it was "Figure You Out" by VOILÀ.) No idea why, but Thranduil just felt perfect for this.

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Thranduil x Reader

[A/N: This is mostly just fluff, but there's some innuendo, so... 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!!!]

Warnings: Fluff, angst, Elf x Human romance, mutual pining, idiots in love, Thranduil being dramatic, fake betrothal speedrun, Thranduil being soft for one (1) person only, protective Thranduil, Human!Reader has been adopted by elf who had no idea what he was getting into and Thranduil thinks he's an idiot, mild innuendo.

~*~

My mind wandered during my guard shift. Given that nothing ever penetrated this deep into the realm without the king's consent, the risk of allowing my focus to roam among my busy thoughts was minimal. The night air was brisk as I sat on one corner of the king's balcony with my bow laid across my lap.

Normally, the night air was soothing, but at that moment, all I could think about was how different everything would be soon. There would be no more extravagant views of the stars framed by elaborately gilded windows, no more training with my bow, no more front row seats to royal audiences, and - the worst of all - no more late night conversations when King Thranduil grew weary of his work.

I'd taken those things for granted. Oh, I hadn't squandered my time once I'd become one of his guards, by any means, but now that I might be forced to give up that position sooner than I'd anticipated, a list of regrets seemed to be cycling endlessly in my mind's eye. One that caused me the most pain was that I would very soon no longer be the recipient of his majesty's secret smirks when something we'd discussed privately occurred in his court.

The sound of a quill scratching away on parchment within the king's study ceased abruptly, but not even the anticipation of a quiet, intimate talk with him could lift my spirits. Not after the news I'd had that morning.

The swish of a cloak being removed was followed by unhurried footsteps toward the balcony, and then he was there beside me. The King of the Woodland Realm stood less than a few feet from me in all his finery, save the little circlet that usually rested upon his brow. He tended not to wear it when he retired to his chambers for the evening, choosing instead to lay it atop a book of poetry which resided permanently on his desk.

"On a lovely, cloudless night such as this, what cause would a newly-engaged lady have to look so forlorn?" The smooth, regal voice of my liege met my ears, and under any other circumstances, I might have scrambled to my feet to bow before him, as was his due. All I could muster, however, was a quiet, sincere apology over my shoulder as I remained seated on the balcony. I could feel his keen, pale blue eyes on me as I set my bow aside and let out a heavy sigh. "Oh, dear. Is he that repulsive?"

"Not physically, but...all he seems to see is himself. I am perfectly aware that the betrothal wasn't either of our choices, but he could at least pretend that he's interested when our parents are nowhere to be seen." I was aware that I sounded ungrateful, but just because I was a mortal woman in a realm of Elves didn't mean that I had to like it when I was constantly looked down upon by others.

One of the few people who never gave me the impression that he thought less of me took a seat beside me in robes much too elegant for anything less than a perfectly padded chair to touch.

"Have you spoken with your guardian - apologies, your father - about your fears?" Instead of sounding judgmental, Thranduil's voice held only softness - a rarity, to be sure, but such a tone was more common when he conversed with me than with anyone else. I nodded my head as I recalled the cold aloofness in my adoptive father's voice as he'd dismissed both me and my protests.

"He seemed more concerned with maintaining the status associated with his name than with some silly little mortal's concerns." I tried to keep the bitterness out of my voice, I really did, but the sharp edge that crept in made me cringe a bit. "After all, who am I to complain when he took me in? My life could have been over before it had even truly begun. He could just as easily have left me to die in the ruins of our burning village and adopted an Elfling instead. I...owe him for all that he has done."

One of Thranduil's hands rested lightly on my shoulder, coaxing me to face him. My eyes met his, and his free hand laid over my wrist. The warm weight of his palm covering my pulse made my heart flutter in my chest.

"Is that what he told you?" When I stammered about it being nothing more than the truth, he shook his head while stormclouds gathered in his expression. "What foul words of comfort from one who claims to care for you."

To that, I had no response. Naturally, several statements sprung to the tip of my tongue - defenses for my father's actions - but I swallowed them all down when my king's gaze warned me that he would tolerate no such excuses.

"Remind me, mellon-nin, how long have you served in my guard?"

"Twelve years and a few months, sire."

"And in all of our many conversations, have I ever given you any reason to doubt that I value you as highly as any other in my kingdom? After that first fortnight, when you were terrified of making a mistake, have you ever felt out of place because of your mortality?"

The memory of that fateful night drew a smile to my lips.

"No, mellon-nin. That rather thorough tongue-lashing you meted out made your stance quite clear to all in the palace," I murmured allowing myself the small liberty of turning my hand beneath his and threading our fingers together.

The guards he'd berated for their rudeness and bigotry had practically fled the throne room when he was finished with them. After that night, he'd ordered that whenever I was on duty, I would be assigned to his personal detail.

"Then, what cause have you to believe that I would tolerate anyone treating you so poorly anywhere else in my domain?"

"This is different–"

"How? Enlighten me," the king ordered giving my fingers a gentle squeeze.

"Father has the right to demand that I repay him for the time he has spent on me," I hedged, but Thranduil shook his head.

"Just because he raised you, that does not mean that he was unaware of what he was choosing. He may not have known the full extent of the demands made of a parent, but that was not the fault of the innocent babe he rescued." He sounded so calm, so casual about his assertions that I could do no more than blink as he spoke. "I do not expect Legolas to sacrifice his happiness to satisfy some imagined debt incurred at his birth, nor should your guardian make such ludicrous demands of you."

We sat quietly for a moment, side-by-side and hand-in-hand beneath the moonlight before words began flowing from my mouth almost without my consent.

"He's an ass, you know, the man to whom I have been promised. Nothing brings him greater pleasure than a mirror, and nothing strains him more than remembering a preference held by someone other than himself," I murmured feeling as though this confession of my unkind thoughts about the Ellon would give me some measure of comfort beyond another's commiseration. "Six different times he has insisted that he knows my favorite flower, and six times have I received something completely different. He claims that I keep changing my answer, but, truly, I have given the same response every time."

"He chooses not to listen," Thranduil muttered almost to himself.

"Quite correct, aran-nin. He is dismissive...practically ignores me when we are in the same room..."

"Had he been listening, he undoubtedly would have heard your scathingly pointed sighs, not unlike those which you direct toward any who insult your king in the throne room," he teased, and a huff of laughter bubbled out of me. "I shall have you know that I enjoy those little sighs. They convey a great deal about the receiver's lack of intelligence and manners, whilst simultaneously broadcasting that you would like nothing more than to drag them from the gates by the scruff of their neck. Quite effective, do you not agree?"

"Oh, yes, mellon. As I recall, you've allowed me to do just that on several occasions," I said glancing over at him. The answering sparkle in his eyes coupled with the wicked little smirk adorning his lips made my heart thud faster in my chest.

"And I reveled in every second of their humiliation at your beautiful hands," Thranduil practically purred in satisfaction at the memories, but I sobered rather quickly as I recalled the reason I was so down in the first place. He must've seen my smile slip. "Forgive me, I was certain that you enjoyed dragging witless rats from my sight...?"

"I do...rather, I did." The correction was small, but he pounced upon it immediately. The hand that had been on my shoulder grasped my chin and forced me to look back up at him. He didn't need to say a word. The question floated between us unasked, yet requiring an answer. "My betrothed made it clear that he believed a guard was no proper wife. He has demanded that I resign my position here."

More seriously than he had all night, Thranduil gazed into my eyes.

"Is that what you want? Do you wish to give up the station you fought so hard to attain for a man who cannot remember even the simplest of things about you?" I shook my head as hot, desperate tears filled my eyes. "Then tell me, what do you want? What desires fill your mind when you allow yourself to dream under cover of darkness?"

I most certainly could not give him the whole truth. I couldn't tell him that over the course of our acquaintance and friendship I had fallen in love with him. Nothing could ever come of my pathetic heartache. I was only a guard. A peasant. Peasants might fall in love with royalty, but they did not end up with them. That was not the way of the world.

"Love," I breathed instead. "I want to be loved for myself, not my father's position. I wish to be cared for and to care for another. I wish to remain a guard, a warrior for the Woodland Realm, and to be accepted as I am, not swept aside. Obviously, I am not without fault, but while I attempt to grow wiser and gain experience, I do not wish to be impeded or judged by someone who could never remember even the most basic facts about me. I...What I want is impossible."

A small, gentle smile crossed the king's lips, and an intense, burning desire to kiss him fought a war within me against my common sense. Thranduil could forgive much, but a lapse in judgment as severe as throwing myself at him? Never.

"Your presence here is proof that nothing is impossible. You are much easier to love than you have allowed yourself to believe." His deep, rumbling voice sounded at once comforting and sensual, which proved quite effective at helping me blink back my tears before they could even begin to fall. "When are you next due to meet with this unworthy cad?"

"Tomorrow. My father has invited both he and his parents to our home for the evening meal as it is my day without a shift." I was surprised at how steady my voice sounded after how vulnerable I'd just been. Strangely, though, I felt no shame in having allowed my friend to see my pain.

King Thranduil nodded his head pensively, brushing his thumb over my chin as he did so - why had he not yet released his grip? Not that I was going to complain, of course. Being this close to him, touching him, speaking with him in confidence...that was as close as I was ever going to get to him, and even that might soon be pulled from my grasp, so I savored every moment that I was afforded.

Neither of us had much more to say. Instead, the Elvenking slipped an arm around my waist and tugged me close enough to his side for me to lay my head on his shoulder. We sat in companionable silence until the time came for the guard change. Bidding me sweet dreams and a safe trip home, Thranduil dropped a soft kiss onto my hand and retreated back inside his rooms.

As usual, the guard who was to replace me gave me a raised eyebrow at my familiarity with someone so far above my station, and, as usual, I ignored him.

Sneaking to the stables on my way out, I plucked an apple from my coat pocket and headed to the gilded gates of the stall holding the king's mount. Slicing the fruit quickly in half with my dagger to delay my return home by a few extra seconds, I cooed gently to the large elk, stroking the soft fur on his muzzle as I offered him the treat.

"Who's a good boy? Hm? You are! Yes, you are," I praised as he gingerly bit into the first half of the bright red fruit, then the second. He was a gentle giant, in truth. Much of the kingdom supposed that he would be as prickly as his rider, but nothing could be further from reality. Firstly, the king was only short with those who deserved his ire. Secondly, the admittedly imposing elk upon which he rode hadn't a mean bone in his very large body. "Aww, you're never grumpy with me, are you, mellon-nin?"

He chuffed and snuffled, nuzzling gratefully into my caressing fingers as a 'thank you' for his treat. Even he would be a far superior companion for life than the idiot with whom I'd be forced to spend yet another pointless evening the next day...and perhaps the rest of my life.

"Don't worry, mellon, even if he makes me resign, I'll still find a way to sneak in and bring you extra apples." The pleased little snort he gave me drew a giggle from my lips, but I knew that soon the guard patrolling this section of the grounds would be here. I bid goodnight to my tall, fur-covered friend and set off on the path toward home with our secret intact.

Had I so much as bothered to glance back, I would've seen a familiar head of bright blond hair watching as I tugged the hood of my cloak over my head.

--

When I awoke the next day, it was still early morning. The lateness of my shift usually tired me out well enough that I slept for at least another hour or two, but after a few bleary blinks, I realized that I'd been awakened by voices.

Odd. My adoptive father did not usually entertain guests at this hour. Either something had happened, or today was destined to turn out rather strangely. As he hadn't bothered to come wake me, I gathered that there was no urgency in whatever had transpired. What was not in question, however, was the way my stomach growled as I tried to roll over and go back to sleep.

With a sigh of defeat, I climbed out of bed and dressed, even going so far as to tie my hair back in a quick braid since it looked as though it might rain. Thus, clothed and presentable, I cleaned my teeth and ventured from my bedroom in search of food.

The voices seemed to be coming from my destination, so it seemed as though I would get both sustenance and an answer to my curiosity all at the same time. A fortuitous turn for such a gray morning.

"...ere she is now." I was able to make out my father's voice as I intentionally stepped on the creaky board in the hallway. I wasn't as quiet as an Elf when I walked, but I still didn't like to appear as though I was eavesdropping or sneaking where I shouldn't be. When I stepped into the kitchen, I froze.

There in all his regal, perfectly-groomed glory was King Thranduil, sitting at our tiny wooden table.

What in the name of the Valar was the king doing in our kitchen?

"Aran-nin," I greeted him, bowing slightly less steadily than I might have if I'd been awake for more than a few minutes. A low, velvety chuckle floated around the space.

"Come now, meleth, you know there is no need for such formality," Thranduil crooned giving me a charming, mischievous smile as I straightened again, but that statement alone nearly shattered my poor tired mind.

He'd said 'meleth,' but...that meant 'love.' He'd never called me that before. And I still didn't know why he was in our kitchen.

Glancing between my king and my father, I tried silently to piece together what the hell was going on here. Thranduil must have seen my lack of progress in my eyes, because he continued as if this was all completely normal.

"Come, break your fast. Your guardian has been kind enough to make tea and lay out some provisions for us," he said standing and pulling out the chair directly beside him.

Almost without thinking, I did as he asked, and my heart thudded rapidly in my chest when he seated me as if we were at some lavish feast instead of around our small, wooden table. He acknowledged my hastily-murmured gratitude, then resumed his own seat with his usual flourish. The three of us ate quietly for a few moments, staunchly ignoring the fact that the king was in our tiny kitchen eating with us as casually as if he had always done so.

It was...pleasant. Strange, obviously, but much more enjoyable than my usual solitary morning meal.

"So, meleth-nin, would you like to tell him the good news, or should I?" Thranduil asked, and I looked up at him. Slightly more cognizant than before, I recognized the glint in his eyes that usually accompanied a desire for me to play along with whatever he said next. I could do that.

"I'm quite certain that it would be much more eloquent coming from you," I demurred, and I very pointedly avoided looking across the table at my father's reaction to whatever bit of theater my king had orchestrated. Less than a heartbeat later, I found my free hand firmly in Thranduil's grasp as he looked at my father.

"The betrothal you arranged for your ward is hereby declared invalid by order of the king," he said, and the stunned expression on my father's face was worth every moment of confusion I'd experienced that morning. He took a moment to gather himself before clearing his throat and looking between us in askance.

"If it is not too presumptuous, sire, may I ask why you have done this? Her betrothal to–"

"That engagement was no more than a farce. We meant to announce it earlier, but with how busy I've been attending to my royal duties, I fear I have been remiss." The king cut him off, and the indignation in my father's eyes gave me a sick sort of pleasure. "You see, your ward is not available for the suitor you preferred, because she has already accepted my own marriage proposal."

Oh. So, that was what he had in mind. A faux betrothal. Somehow, that was both intensely flattering and a knife to my chest.

The announcement worked to perfection, though. My father looked as though he'd been punched soundly in the face.

"You...?" He blinked and made a second attempt at speech. "Why would a king want her?"

Thranduil's head tilted in a manner I recognized as indicative of the imminent rise of his temper.

"Why does a king desire anything? Tell me, why should a king not desire a worthy queen for his realm?" He asked, and my father caught up rather rapidly with the realization that he'd said the wrong thing. Thranduil looked back over at me as he lifted my hand to his lips. "Why should an Ellon not marry the one whom he loves?"

Ow. Those were the exact words I'd longed to hear from him for so many years, but to hear them now knowing that they were all an act...

"And why should I not wish to marry the Elf with whom I have grown so close over my many years of guard duty?" How far he intended to carry this fiction, I didn't know, but I could play along for now. I could hide the pain.

"I...Congratulations," my father stammered hesitantly, but he was no longer relevant. Not now.

"Thank you," the king said without taking his eyes off of me. "Meleth, I believe it is time for you to live in the palace. It will be your home once we are married, and if you are prepared, I can take you back with me. My mount is outside."

"Of course, but I shall need a few moments to pack–"

"Nonsense. You needn't do such menial work. You are to be my queen. I have already arranged for your belongings to be brought to you this evening. For now, you need only bring yourself and a riding cloak," he insisted with a warm smile.

"Might it not be simpler, my king, if I were to save you the trouble of taking her with you? I could escort her to the palace myself this evening so that you needn't be burdened by sharing your mount," my father said, and the blush that sent my cheeks burning at the thought of the pair of us riding together atop his elk was automatic. No acting required.

I prayed that Thranduil was unaware of how drastically he affected me, even within my own imagination.

"Bringing my queen to the palace is my responsibility and privilege. And, if you shall forgive me for saying so aloud outside of the solitude of our marital chambers, meleth-nin, I view the opportunity to feel you in my arms with great anticipation," the king said turning my hand over gently and placing a slow, sensual kiss right over my racing pulse. My breath caught in my throat at the hunger in his eyes. His lips lingered a few beats longer than I expected, only pulling away when my father cleared his throat pointedly. "My apologies. In the presence of such beauty, I find that I am transported into the realm of fantasy."

Thranduil's words did not match his expression. He was an Ellon who found vast satisfaction in playing those around him like an orchestra. He wasn't sorry at all.

"As much as I adore seeing you like this, my darling king, I do hope you will be more discreet while holding court," I teased, but his smirk only grew.

"When my queen is so breathtaking? Never." If it wasn't for the disgustingly sexy wink he tossed me, I'd have thought he was laying his act on a bit thick. As it was, though, he seemed to be staying in character quite effortlessly. For my part, I was one shaky breath away from giggling like a brainless idiot, or bursting out in tears because of the simple fact that this was all an act.

Ducking my head in what I hoped was a passable semblance of bashfulness, I tried to steady my breathing.

"I...trust that you still plan to give up your position in the guard?" My eyes flicked up and met my father's. There was something in his expression - disbelief, confusion, suspicion - that I couldn't quite place.

His obvious lack of trust after all these years angered me.

With the sweetest smile that I could muster, I tilted my head curiously.

"Not at all. A queen must be willing to fight for - and alongside - her people if she expects them to fight for her in return. Loyalty must be earned; it is not a gift to which one is entitled." Thranduil gave my fingers a gentle, supportive squeeze. "Surely, after your many years as a warrior, you of all people understand how crucial it is to inspire loyalty in those whom you command?"

He couldn't protest. When Thranduil said nothing, giving him neither a change of subject nor an opportunity to dodge the question, my father stammered about his question being a foolish one and about the change in suitors being so sudden.

Almost as soon as we stepped outside, the king's elk snuffled happily. He walked over to us, but to my surprise, instead of vying for Thranduil's attention, he made a beeline for me. Without thought, I patted his muzzle and ran my fingers down his neck. Snuffling lower, as if he knew I usually kept his apples in my pockets, he looked at me expectantly.

"Oh, I'm sorry, mellon, I don't hav–" I was silenced by a large, gentle hand landing on my shoulder.

In my king's grasp was a bright, ripe, red apple. The same kind I usually smuggled out of the larder as a treat for my furry friend. He'd already sliced it in half - when had he even found the time?

"Thank you, but how did you...?"

"Nothing happens in my realm but I know of it," he whispered, the warmth of his breath ghosting over my scalp.

Choosing to temporarily ignore the implications of his statement, I accepted the apple and fed it to his elk. After a moment, Thranduil moved nearly soundlessly back toward my father.

"Ah, before I forget, this is for your ward's former suitor," he said pulling an envelope with the royal seal from his pocket. "Please convey to him that if the contents raise more questions than answers, he is most welcome to see the palace healers about his obviously failing memory."

With his cloak swishing behind him, Thranduil swept back over to me and helped me onto his mount's back. Once he was seated behind me with an arm wrapped firmly around my middle, it all sank in.

This might be an act for my father, but this was happening. I was really riding toward the palace with my king's chest pressing against my back. The guards who manned the gate would see us. Any who encountered us would bear witness to the king's act. How far did he mean to take this?

Surely, he wouldn't actually marry me just to get me away from one unsuitable Ellon? And when he did eventually end this ruse, what then? Would I be forced to go home with my tail tucked between my legs?

When we were around the halfway point in our journey - far enough from both my home and the palace that I was certain we wouldn't be observed - I asked if we could stop for a moment. Despite his confusion, Thranduil gave the command, and his elk trotted to a graceful stop. Without waiting for assistance, I slid off the saddle and landed rather hard on my feet.

Ignoring the new pain in my ankles and the ache that the loss of Thranduil's steadying grip left in my chest, I took a few steps and tried to slow my breathing. The sound of my traveling companion landing infinitely more gently than I had met my ears along with a concerned call of my name, but I just shook my head.

"Are you hurt, meleth?" He asked, and I swallowed heavily.

"No, but...my king–"

"You are perfectly allowed to call me by my name. After all, we are betrothed. It would not do for our subjects to see us behaving as if no love exists between us," he said as he patted his elk's neck, and a pang of hurt wound through my heart. Thranduil was saying all the right words, but it was an act. There were no longer any witnesses. There was no longer anyone to watch as my heart broke.

"Why are you doing this?" At the pain in my voice, confusion and concern washed over his features.

"Whatever do you mean?" The Elvenking asked stepping away from his elk's side. His cloak billowed around him, and it was all I could do not to drop to my knees at the sheer majesty of the figure he presented. All it did, though, was reinforce what I already knew: Thranduil was not for me.

"Please, do not misunderstand, I am grateful that you have saved me from such an unfortunate match. However, you needn't spare my feelings by pretending to love me. There is no need to waste your precious time playacting, mellon-nin."

"'Pretending'?" The word escaped him as a harsh, dangerous whisper. Oh dear. I'd seen the king's rage before, but never had his icy fury been turned upon me. Despite the outrage in his tone, his next words were at the same hushed volume as before. "'Playacting'? What do you take me for?"

I could see why Prince Legolas had insisted that raised voices were preferable to the fear that his father's cool, piercing anger inspired. I wasn't afraid, but I was acutely aware of the severity of his emotions. I wasn't intentionally trying to anger him, but I needed him to know how close he'd come to breaking me beyond repair. Before I could answer, he advanced another step and continued.

"And, pray tell, what am I, in your estimation? Cruel? Unforgiving? Demanding? Judgmental?" His eyes flashed with something akin to pain. "Perhaps your censure is not based upon personality, but upon appearance."

The glamour he kept constantly in place over his scar melted away.

"Is this the source of your misgivings? Am I too ugly for you to accept, even as a king?"

"You know that's not true," I snapped, with an edge of warning in my voice, recalling the first time I'd seen him without the glamour.

A few months after my appointment to the king's guard, I was given a jar of pain-dulling ointment by one of the healers to pass on to the king. I'd delivered it, of course, but when I'd been hesitant to leave him, going so far as to ask if he was injured, he'd locked the door and showed me what the great serpents of the north had done to him. Thranduil admitted later that he'd intended to frighten me that night, but all I'd done was ask if he needed help applying the medicine. Once he realized I thought no less of him for his injury, he'd let me.

Yet he had the gall to stand before me and accuse me of being shallow? Had he learned nothing about me over the years?

"Then answer the question," Thranduil bit out quietly. "What exactly do you take me for?"

"A king," I breathed looking up into his eyes. Confusion mingled with his anger. "Peasants may fall in love with royalty, but they are not offered the luxury of marrying them. Kings do not give lowly guards a second thought, even if they afford them the title of 'friend,' so I will ask you again, sire: Why are you doing this? Why are you acting as though hope abounds for my doomed heart where none has ever existed?"

His brow smoothed, his lips parted a fraction, and his glamour slipped silently back into place as he processed what I'd said. Oh, Valar, what I'd said! I'd confessed to loving the king!

Comprehension melted his anger away into nothingness. Instead, he moved within a single step of me, lifting one of his large, graceful hands to caress my cheek.

"You truly do not know?" I couldn't even bring myself to answer as I leaned into Thranduil's touch. This might be the last chance to do so after what I'd just admitted. He'd dismissed guards in the past for much less severe transgressions. "When we spoke last night, you told me that you desired to be loved - not by the whole of the Woodland Realm as I believe you deserve, but by one person. The Ellon your father chose for you certainly could not do that when remembering something as small as your favorite flower caused him such strain."

Low and gentle, his voice trickled over my ears as smoothly as honey. He...He didn't sound angry, anymore. Why wasn't he enraged that someone like me had dared to cross the more-than-generous boundary of friendship that he'd allowed me?

"My king–"

"Thandruil," he corrected, but there was no real bite to his words despite having to repeat himself again. He never repeated himself, yet this morning alone he'd done so twice. "You adore the blue wildflowers that grow along our western borders, but if you smell them for too long, they make you sneeze. During the summer, you set them on the sill in your room and keep the window open so that you might enjoy them without discomfort."

I blinked in surprise. I could vaguely remember a conversation years ago where I'd mentioned the flowers, but it was such a trivial thing that I was quite certain it would've been forgotten by morning. After all, what I did with flowers had no bearing on the fate of the kingdom.

"You prefer your tea sweet but not overly so. When you believe it might rain, you take the precaution of braiding your hair so that the humidity will not render it impossible to untangle when you return home."

The Elvenking began slowly, allowing each small fact that he'd observed about me to sink in along with the realization that he'd favored me with his attention frequently enough to accrue them.

"Your confidence with daggers is low, but with a bow, you are as bold and graceful as any skilled Elleth warrior. When I express my anger at some wretched fool in my court, you often struggle to suppress your laughter at how close they come to wetting themselves in the throne room - do not deny it. Your body gives you away each and every time."

Had he truly seen so much of me during my service to him?

"When your temper is tested, there is a small line that appears just here," he touched a spot between my brows, "that brings me great consternation. On the one hand, I wish to give you my sword so that you may more easily remove the head of whomever has dared incur your wrath, but on the other, I wish to soothe your frustrations with my words, my lips, my body, whatever you will allow–"

"Thranduil–" His name fell from me as no more than a whisper. The leaves on the trees surrounding the path rustled in the breeze, but the Elvenking could not be stopped.

"Your free time is often spent reading. Once a week before you return home, you sneak out to the stables and feed my elk an extra apple, because you find him sweet-tempered. When you laugh, your eyes sparkle brighter than any star ever could, and you steal the breath from my chest each time you look at me."

My vision blurred, and only when my king's thumbs brushed tears from my cheeks did I realize that I was crying. I'd loved him for so long that this felt as surreal as a dream.

"You said that you wish to be loved, meleth-nin. To answer your question, I am doing this because I can give you exactly what you desire. I could love you with my eyes closed, because I have done so with them open since the day you were assigned to my guard."

Thranduil leaned closer, freezing but a hair's breadth from my lips.

"If you do not feel the same, we can remain friends, but if there is the slightest chance that you could find happiness by my side, then marry me. Be my queen. I am yours." His whispered promise was filled with so much tenderness and hope that my restraint snapped, and I closed the distance between our mouths.

My fingers gripped his robes in an attempt to ground myself, but this heady feeling of being wanted - being loved - robbed me of all coherent thought. There was only the feeling of gentle hands drawing me close by my waist and the nape of my neck. Only soft lips kissing me with the skill of thousands of years' worth of experience. Only a king claiming his queen's heart.

There was only love.

~*~

mellon-nin = my friend

aran-nin = my king

meleth-nin = my love

[talkdutchtome]

Glitch- chapter three

pairing . . . max verstappen x reader / mason mount x reader )

summary . . . when mason mount finds out that his assistant has been harbouring feelings for him for years, he makes it clear he doesn't feel the same way. but once he sees her become closer with formula 1 world champion max verstappen, he realises he may have underestimated his feelings towards the girl he has now pushed into the arms of another )

genre . . . angst )

song . . . glitch- taylor swift )

warning . . . tbd )

series masterlist . . . available here )

a/n . . . it's been a while but chapter three is here, i'm so sorry for how long it took )

Things between Mason and Y/N only seemed to get worse after he found out that she had given her number to Max; to say she was confused about the whole situation would be putting it lightly. Mason had made it clear that he didn’t feel a thing for her, he was furious that she had feelings for him, so why would he have an issue if something happened between her and Max. His attitude was not simply aimed at Y/N either, he was just pissed off at Max. When Max inevitably qualified on pole and Mason had to present him with the pole award, he did so with a face like thunder and an attitude so bad that even the members of staff that had to deal with him clearly saw that something was wrong. And if Y/N thought his mood was bad during qualifying, it was nothing compared to how he acted during the race. 

The group of four were sat watching the race in the Red Bull garage and whilst Y/N, Ben and Reece tried their best to immerse themselves in the excitement of the race; it was hard to do with Mason sat beside them in a brooding silence. His foul mood had extended beyond his interactions with Y/N too; even Ben and Reece, usually recipients of his lively banter, found themselves met with curt responses and icy glares. It was hard to shake off the tension, especially when Mason's frustration seemed palpable. Every attempt at conversation was met with monosyllabic responses or outright silence. 

As the laps passed and the tension escalated, Reece, who could tell just how uncomfortable Y/N was, decided to break the ice. Leaning over to her, he spoke in a hushed tone, "Hey, Y/N, you alright? Mason seems like he's in a mood today." 

She nodded, a small, forced smile playing on her lips. "Yeah, I don't know what's gotten into him. He’s just so angry I don’t know what to do.” 

Reece sighed sympathetically. "He'll come around. Just give him some time." 

But as the race unfolded, tension in the garage reached its peak. When Max secured the victory, the cheers from everyone in the garage were met with a stark contrast from Mason. His jaw clenched, and he rolled his eyes in frustration, clearly annoyed that Max had won, a stark change from usual races where he cheered Red Bull along.  

Y/N exchanged puzzled glances with Ben and Reece, who shared her confusion at Mason's sudden change of allegiance. The atmosphere was palpably strained, and Y/N needed to get away from it all, so she found herself wandering away from the group as they headed towards the podium.  

However, the silence that followed her being away from her friends only spurred her frustration at Masons behavior, and soon she just couldn’t cope without knowing and understanding why he was acting the way he was. So, determined to find some answers, she made her way through the crowded paddock, navigating the sea of people in their vibrant team colors. Spotting Mason engrossed in conversation with Ben and Recce, Y/N hesitated for a moment before steeling herself to confront the issue head-on. 

As she approached, the murmur of their conversation grew more audible, and her heart sank when she overheard Mason's words. "I don't know what Y/N sees in that guy. He's a real prick, and I can't stand him," Mason grumbled to Ben and Recce, his frustration evident. 

Confusion and hurt etched across Y/N's face. She couldn't understand why Mason would harbor such strong feelings towards Max, especially when he had made it abundantly clear that he didn't reciprocate her feelings. Before she could muster the courage to address Mason, Max's voice unexpectedly cut through the tension. 

"Hey, you guys! Great race, huh?" Max approached the group, a wide grin on his face, seemingly oblivious to the undercurrents of tension. Y/N glanced at Mason, who had abruptly shifted his expression into a forced smile. The contrast between his earlier resentment and his current attempt at friendliness was jarring.  

Max’s energy was contagious as he approached the group with a wide grin. 

"I'm throwing a little after-party to celebrate the win. You guys should come.” 

Caught off guard, Y/N's eyes flickered to Mason, who wore a scowl and crossed arms. "We can't, man. We got some stuff lined up," Mason interjected, his tone sharp, making it clear he had no interest in joining the celebration. 

Y/N hesitated, torn between Mason's obvious displeasure and Max's expectant gaze. The unspoken tension in the air was as thick as fog. Max, sensing the underlying dynamics, looked directly at Y/N, seeking confirmation. "You in, Y/N?" 

She bit her lip, glancing at Mason before meeting Max's gaze. "Yeah, sure, I'll be there," she replied tentatively, a slight quiver in her voice. The decision was made, but the uncertainty lingered. 

Mason's scowl deepened, and the air became even heavier. Y/N, sensing the disapproval, fidgeted uncomfortably. She didn't want to escalate the tension, but at the same time, she couldn't let Mason dictate her every move; not when he made it abundantly clear he didn’t even seem to like her as a friend anymore. 

As Max walked away to extend the invitation to others, Mason shot Y/N a stern look. "Really? You're going to his party?" 

Y/N sighed, feeling the weight of the situation. "Mason, it's just a party. It's not a big deal." Reece and Ben exchanged looks, clearly feeling baffled by the scene playing out in front of them. 

Mason, however, wasn't convinced. "I don't get why you're so eager to hang out with him." 

Y/N took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "Max seems nice, I like him” 

Mason's expression remained hardened, but he didn't press the matter further. Instead choosing to just walk away from her, almost as if he couldn’t even bare to look at her 

In the dimly lit hotel bar, Mason sat slouched on a barstool, nursing a drink between sips. Ben and Reece sat either side of him, exchanging concerned glances as they observed the weight on Mason's shoulders. The earlier anger that had etched lines on his face had given way to a profound sadness, leaving Mason looking like a shadow of his usual self. 

Reece cleared his throat, breaking the heavy silence that hung over the trio. "Mate, you've been quiet all night. Everything alright?" 

Mason took a deep breath, staring into the amber depths of his drink. "I don't know, man. It's just... everything's a mess." 

Ben chimed in, "Is this about Y/N and Max? Look, Mason, it might not be such a bad thing. If they get together, you won't have to worry about her having feelings for you anymore." 

Mason's eyes flickered with a hint of conflict, but he nodded. "Yeah, I know. It's just..." He trailed off, his shoulders slumping. 

Reece leaned in, genuine concern etched on his face. "Spill it, mate. Why are you so bothered that Y/N and Max are getting along? You've made it clear you don't see her that way." 

Mason sighed, his guard momentarily slipping. "It's not about that. I'm worried about Max. He's got a bit of a reputation with women, and I don't want Y/N getting hurt." 

Ben nodded in understanding, but Reece wasn't convinced. "Mate, I've known you for years. Something's not adding up. Are you sure that's all there is to it?" 

Mason hesitated, his eyes betraying a depth of emotion he hadn't intended to reveal. "I just... It's complicated, okay? I don't want to see her get hurt, and I don't want things to get even messier than they already are." 

Ben placed a reassuring hand on Mason's shoulder. "We get it, mate. Just look out for your friend. If you think Max is trouble, it's good that you're keeping an eye out." 

As Mason nodded in agreement, a pang of conflicting emotions welled up within him. In the quiet recesses of his thoughts, he wondered if, perhaps, he wasn't as indifferent to Y/N's feelings as he had convinced himself. 

Meanwhile, the after-party pulsed with vibrant energy as Max and Y/N found themselves in the heart of the celebration. The music thumped in harmony with the beats of their hearts, and the dimly lit venue became a backdrop to a night that seemed to be unfolding like a story. 

The pair, fueled by a mix of adrenaline and a few well-timed drinks, found themselves drawn to each other, their conversation charged with a playful flirtation that danced on the edges of something more. Max's charm and Y/N's quick wit created a dynamic that was both intriguing and infectious. 

As the night progressed, Y/N began to meet more and more of Max’s friends. The atmosphere was filled with laughter and animated chatter as Y/N navigated the introductions, each friend offering a unique glimpse into Max's life beyond the racetrack. The genuine warmth and camaraderie among Max's friends added a layer of connection to the night, making Y/N feel more at home in the bustling celebration. 

Later in the evening, Max and Y/N found a quieter corner of the venue, away from the pulsating beats and the lively crowd. The chemistry between them lingered in the air, and the flirtation that had been bubbling beneath the surface finally came to the forefront. 

Max, his gaze unwavering, leaned in with a playful grin. "You know, you're making it hard to focus on anything but you tonight." 

Y/N chuckled, her cheeks flushed from the mix of excitement and a few drinks. "Is that so? I could say the same about you, Max." 

Their banter continued, creating a bubble of intimacy that shielded them from the surrounding festivities. As the night wore on, Max's friends occasionally joined their conversation, seamlessly weaving Y/N into the fabric of their tight-knit group. 

Amidst the laughter and shared stories, Max's gaze turned more sincere. "You're different, Y/N. I really like being around you. Can I see you again?” 

Y/N, a mix of surprise and contemplation on her face, considered the question. "I'd like that, Max, but I don’t exactly live local, do I?” she said with a chuckle, still slightly taken aback by his forwardness. 

Max nodded, his eyes reflecting determination. "Well, I'm in the UK quite a bit for factory work. It could work out." 

After a moment's pause, Y/N agreed, a smile playing on her lips. "Alright then, yeah. Let me know when you're in town, and we'll take it from there." 

The vibrant energy of the after-party gradually faded as Y/N decided it was time to call it a night. The music softened, and the laughter in the venue became a distant echo as she made her way back to the hotel. Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, the events of the night playing out in her head like a movie reel. 

As she entered her hotel room, she noticed a text message from Mason. "Are you back at the hotel?" it read. She sighed, typing a quick "Yes" in response. Truthfully, she couldn’t deal with anymore of Mason’s childish tantrums today, but she just couldn’t find it in herself to ignore him. A few minutes later, there was a knock at her door. Y/N hesitated before opening it, finding Mason standing there, a complicated mix of emotions written across his face. 

She let him in, the tension palpable in the air. Mason's eyes avoided hers as he walked past her and took a seat on her bed, he seemed unable to find the right words. Minutes passed, but Mason remained silent, the awkwardness growing with each passing second. The atmosphere in the room became thick with unspoken words, and Y/N could no longer contain her frustration. 

"What is your problem?" she burst out, her voice a mix of anger and hurt. "First, you completely ice me out, then you get pissed at me for giving my number to Max, and now you've come into my room in the middle of the night and you're just sitting there in silence. What the fuck do you want from me? I'm sorry for how I feel; I know it makes things awkward, but I never expected you to feel the same way or to want me. I just don't understand why it means you have to treat me like shit. You’re supposed to be my best friend." 

Mason, still avoiding eye contact, took a deep breath before finally speaking. "You are my best friend, the person in the world I'm closest to, and I was scared that because of how you feel, we couldn't be friends anymore." 

The raw honesty in his words caught Y/N off guard. She took a step back, studying his face, and saw a vulnerability she hadn't expected. The room fell silent again as they both grappled with the weight of their unspoken feelings. 

Y/N took a deep breath, the intensity of the moment hanging between them. "Mason, you can't just shut me out when things get complicated. We've been through too much for that." 

Mason nodded, the weight of his actions evident in the lines on his face. "I know, and I'm sorry. I should have talked to you instead of pushing you away." 

"Why did you get so upset about Max?" Y/N asked, her voice a mix of curiosity and frustration. 

Mason hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "I guess I was worried. Max has a bit of a reputation, and I didn't want to see you get hurt." 

Y/N's expression softened, understanding the concern beneath Mason's actions. "You could have just told me that instead of treating me like I did something wrong." 

Mason nodded again, acknowledging her point. "I messed up, Y/N, and I'm sorry for that." 

The room fell into a heavy silence as Y/N processed Mason's apology. After a moment, she sighed, a mix of emotions playing across her face. "I appreciate the apology, Mason, but you need to trust me. I can handle my own feelings, and I value our friendship too much to let it be ruined by something like this." 

Mason nodded once more, a genuine sense of regret in his eyes. "I'm sorry for acting out. I don't want to lose you as a friend." 

Y/N felt a sense of closure in his words. "Let's just put this behind us. We can figure things out, but you can't shut me out like that again, okay?" 

As the weight of their conversation lifted, Y/N and Mason found themselves in an uncertain but hopeful truce. Y/N, moved by Mason's apology, decided to bridge the lingering gap between them. She reached out for a hug, an unspoken acknowledgment of forgiveness and a desire to move forward. 

Mason hesitated for a moment before reciprocating, his arms enveloping Y/N in a tentative embrace. The hug was warm, a silent reassurance that their friendship could weather the storms that had momentarily shaken its foundation. Y/N could feel the tension dissipating as they held each other, and for a moment, everything seemed to be okay. 

However, as they lingered in the embrace, Mason's mind was in turmoil. A wave of conflicting emotions swept over him, and an unsettling realization settled in the pit of his stomach. He started to question the nature of his feelings for Y/N, wondering if there was more to their connection than just friendship. 

Internally, Mason panicked. This wasn't a revelation he was prepared for, and the timing seemed utterly inconvenient. He tried his best to maintain the facade of casual friendship during the hug, desperately suppressing any hint of the internal storm raging within him. 

Y/N pulled away, smiling warmly. "Thank you for apologizing, Mason. I really appreciate it." 

Mason managed a tight-lipped smile in return, the internal turmoil hidden behind his eyes. "Yeah, of course. Friends, right?" 

"Friends," Y/N affirmed, her expression one of genuine warmth. 

Tag list-

@nightlockcornucopia @jaydensluv @girlytots19 @formula1mount @alwaysclassyeagle @aundercover @sofifiia @dessxoxsworld @lpab @lorarri @thelovehypothesis @torrie421 @ironmaiden1313 @celesteblack08 @glow-ish @urfavouritef1girly @alwaysclassyeagle @barnestatic @simxican @formula1mount @charli123456789 @mac-daddy-210 @lazybot @imguce @azxulaa @mehrmonga @sunny44 @skepvids @drunkinthemiddleoftheday @chimchimjiminie16 @tyna-19 @hoely-maria @stevesworld9 @f1lov3r @elliegrey2803 @heyyhelloohii @landosgirlxoxo @skepvids @aundercover @andydrysdalerogers @illicitverstappen @bbygrlllllll @kageyamama-hinatatata @imagandom @bibissparkles @sofifiia @dark-night-sky-99 @viennakarma

[chaos0pikachu]

Is BL Being Overly Influenced by Modern Western Romance Tropes?

Short answer: No. anyways, in the following essay I will explain that James Cameron is a weeb...

(okay fine~~ lets actually do this)

TLDR: discussing what media globalization is, how fandom can distill it down to only American/European cinema, showcasing how a lot of current BL is influenced by countries within it's own proximity and NOT "the west" but each other, also James Cameron is still a weeb

I had seen a post that basically proposited that BL was being influenced by modern western romance tropes and had used things like omegaverse and mafia settings as an example. I found this, in a word, fucking annoying (oh, two words I guess) because it's micro-xenophobic to me.

It positions western - and really what we mean by this is American/European countries, we're not talking about South American countries are we? - cinema as the central breadbasket of all cinema in and of itself. Inherently, all following cinema must be in some way, shape, or form, influenced by American/European standards, and as such America/European countries are directly responsible for cinema everywhere else, and these places - namely non-white countries - do not influence each other, nor have their own histories in regards to storytelling or cinema and do not, in turn, also influence American/European film making either.

Now like, do I think all of that~~ is intentionally malicious thinking on behalf of folks in fandom? No, so chill out.

I do, however, think a lot of it is birthed from simple ignorance and growing up in an environment where ~The West~ is propagated to be central, individual, and exceptional as opposed to the monolith of "Asia" - by which we mean China, Korea, Japan don't we? How often in discussions of Asian countries is Iran, India, or Saudi Arabia brought up even tho they are all Asian countries? - or the monolith that is South America - in which some folks might believe regions like the Caribbean and/or Central America belong to, but nope there both North America.

Anyway, what we're talking about here is the concept of "media globalization":

"The production, distribution, and consumption of media products on a global scale, facilitating the exchange and diffusion of ideas cross-culturally." (source)

"The media industry is, in many ways, perfect for globalization, or the spread of global trade without regard for traditional political borders. [...] the low marginal costs of media mean that reaching a wider market creates much larger profit margins for media companies. [...] Media is largely a cultural product, and the transfer of such a product is likely to have an influence on the recipient’s culture." (source)

Typically when I see fandom discussing what falls under MG the topic is usually focused on how "the west" is influencing Thai/Korean/Chinese/Japanese media.

Enter, Pit Babe.

Surely Pit Babe was influenced by Supernatural right? Omegaverse is huge in the west - love it, hate it, meh it - it originated in the west - specifically via Supernatural after all.

Nah.

Omegaverse has been popular in Japan and China for almost a decade, if not longer. The earliest omegaverse manga I can think of is Pendulum: Juujin Omegaverse by Hana Hasumi which was released in 2015, almost a decade ago.

(what if you added furries into omegaverse? WHAT IF?? - Japan)

There's countless popular omegaverse manga too, and the dynamics only moderately resemble the ones we're familiar with in the west. Juujin is part omegaverse and part furry/beastmen - the alphas are all beastmen the omegas are humans - while something like Ookami-kun Is Not Scary only slightly resembles omegaverse dynamics as a hybrid series - beastmen are really popular in Japan in part b/c of historical mythology (you see the combination of romantic Beastmen and Japanese culture & folklore in Mamoru Hosoda's work The Boy and the Beast and Wolf Children).

Megumi & Tsugumi (2018) is so popular they're an official English edition published by VIZ's imprint SuBlime and that's a straight up omegaverse story.

(look at the omega symbol on the cover loud and proud baby)

So if Pit Babe was influenced by anything, it certainly wasn't "the west" it was Japan, Korea and China. Because those countries have a thriving omegaverse sub-genre going and have had such for 10 plus years now. Supernatural is popular in Japan, yes, and that may be where Japan and Japanese fans originally found omegaverse as a fictional sub-genre.

HOWEVER

Japanese fans took the sub-genre, bent it, played with it, and evolved it into their own thing. As such, other countries in their proximity, like Thailand, China, and Korea who read BL and GL manga, found it and were like "hey, we wanna play too!"

(is that an omegaverse yuri novel I spy?? yes, yes it is)

When I watched the Red Peafowl trailer, it had more in common with Kinnporsche, History: Trapped, along with films and shows like: Jet Li's The Enforcer, and Fist of Legend, Donnie Yen's Flash Point, Raging Fire, and Kung Fu Jungle, Han Dong-wook's The Worst of Evil, Kim Jin-Min's My Name, Lee Chung-hyeon's The Ballerina, Baik's Believer & Believer 2, Yoshie Kaoruhara's KeixYaku, popular Don Lee films The Gangster, the Cop and the Devil and Unstoppable alongside BL manga like Honto Yajuu and Bi No Isu (probably one of the most well known yazuka manga to date).

Like, we're seeing a rise in mafia based BLs and people think that's because of "western influence" and not the absolute insane success of kinnporsche??? Especially in countries like China, Korea, Taiwan, Philippines and other Asian countries???

Mafia films and gang shows aren't even that popular here in America/Europe; don't get me wrong, they still get made and exist, but the last full length film was The Irishman which did not make it's budget back, and while Power is still on-going it's not a smash hit either. The heyday of Breaking Bad, The Sopranos, The Wire, Goodfellas, and Scarface are long gone. And if you've watched any those shows or films they have very little in common with Kei x Yaku, Kinnporsche, or Red Peafowl in tone, or style.

(who knew martin just wanted to make his al pacino/robert de niro fanfic come to life all these years?)

Another example, The Sign, which is clearly taking inspiration from Chinese costume dramas: Ashes of Love, Fairy and Devil, White Snake (and it's many adaptions), Guardian, & Ying Yang Master Dream of Eternity. Alongside Hong Kong and Korean cop and romance shows like Tale of the Nine-Tailed, Hotel Del Luna, Director Who Buys Me Dinner, First Love, Again, and previously mentioned cop dramas.

Like, I know y'all don't think Twins is influenced by, what, American sports classic Angels in the Outfield?? Gridiron Gang?? Rocky?? Nah that shit is inspired by the popularity of sports manga like Haikyuu!!, Slam Dunk, Prince of Tennis (which even has a Chinese drama adaption), and the like. And also probably History 2, & Not Me but I'm like 87% sure Twins is just Haikyuu fanfic.

So like, does this mean that there's NO history in which American and European cinema influenced these countries? What, no, obviously that's not true, American/European totally have had media influence on countries like Korea, Japan, etc.

Astro Boy by Osamu Tezuka considered "the father of manga" was inspired by Walt Disney's work on Bambi. Another more recent and prominent example is director Yeon Sang-ho and his film Train to Busan.

"And it was Snyder’s movie [Dawn of the Dead, 2004], not the 1978 original, that filmmaker Yeon Sang-ho recalled as his first encounter with the undead. “That was when I started my interest in zombies,” Yeon said, in an email interview through a translator from South Korea. Even today, he added, “it’s the most memorable and intense zombie movie I’ve ever seen.”" (source)

HOWEVER, the global influence doesn't stop there. It's not a one-way street. Yeon Sang-Ho was inspired by Zack Synder's Dawn of the Dead, a remake of George Romero's own work, but Yeon Sang-Ho's work has inspired countless Korean film makers to make their own zombie media; following Train to Busan there's been: Kingdom (2019 - current), All of Us Are Dead (2022), Zombie Detective (2020), Zombieverse (2023), Alive (2020), Rampant (2018).

And hey, wouldn't you know it now we're starting to see more zombie media coming out of places like Japan (Zom 100 the manga, movie, and anime) and High School of the Dead.

Do you know what Domundi's series Zombivor (2023, pilot trailer only) reminds me of? It's NOT The Walking Dead (which is the only relevant zombie media America has created in the last decade) it's Korea's All of Us Are Dead (2022). Comparing the trailers, the settings, the tone, it's clear where Zombivor is pulling inspiration from: Korean zombie cinema. NOT American zombie cinema.

In fact a lot of Domundi's shows - Cutie Pie, Middleman's Love, Naughty Babe, Bed Friend - are all very clearly inspired by Korean filmmaking, specifically that of romantic kdramas from the 2016 - 2020 era. Not always in story, but rather in technique.

This is media globalization. It's not simply ~The West~ influencing non-American/European countries but countries who are often more close in terms of: proximity, culture, and trade are going to have more influence on each other.

It is far more likely that Aoftion (Naughty Babe, Cutie Pie, Zombivor) was influenced by watching Train to Busan, All of Us Are Dead, and other Korean zombie shows and films than a single episode of Walking Dead.

My point isn't that this goes one way only, but rather it is very literally a global thing. This includes American and European film makers being influenced by non-American and European cinema.

Martin Scorsese, Steven Spielberg, Darren Aronofsky, Christopher Nolan, the Wachowski sisters, George Lucas and James Cameron have all been influenced by Japanese film making, especially the works of Akira Kurosawa, Satoshi Kon, and Mamoru Oshii.

John Wick's entire gun-fu sub-genre is heavily influenced by classic Hong Kong action films, specifically John Woo films. Legend of Korra, The Boondocks, Voltron, Young Justice, My Adventures with Superman are all obviously inspired by Japanese anime but animated by a Korean animation studio (Studio Mir). Beyond that, the rise in adult animated dramas like Castlevania, Critical Role Vox Machina, and Invincible to name a few are very clearly taking inspiration from anime in terms of style. The weebs that were watching Adult Swim's Inuyasha, Bleach, and Dragon Ball Z have grown up and are now working in Hollywood.

Okay so like, what's the point of all this? What's the issue? Since American/European cinema does influence et all cinema does any of this really matter?

YES.

I take contention with this line of thinking because it centers "the west" and our supposed individual importance way to much. Declaring definitively that "BL is being influenced by western tropes" and then including tropes, narratives, and film making styles that aren't inherently western and actually have major roots in the cinema of various Asian countries, removes the existence of individual history these countries have which are rich, varied, and nuanced. It removes the "global" part of globalization by declaring "the globe" is really just America and Europe.

It distills these countries down to static places that only exist when American/European audiences discover them.

BL doesn't exist in a vacuum you can trace the development of Korean BL to the development of Korean het dramas almost to a T. You can also trace their development to the queer history of each country and how Thailand interacts culturally with China, Japan, Korea, etc and vice versa. It also ignores the history of these countries influencing American cinema as well. Don't mistake "the globe" for only your sphere of experience.

Anyway James Cameron is a damn weeb y'all have a good night.

Check out other posts in the series:

Film Making? In My BL? - The Sign ep01 Edition | Aspect Ratio in Love for Love's Sake | Cinematography in My BL - Our Skyy2 vs kinnporsche, 2gether vs semantic error, 1000 Stars vs The Sign | How The Sign Uses CGI | Is BL Being Overly Influenced by Modern Western Romance Tropes?

[like these posts? drop me a couple pennies on ko-fi]

[palestaticexchange]

PALE STATIC EXCHANGE... 2!

i said i'd do this again~

Welcome to the Pale Static Exchange... Two!

A few people lamented they weren't able to make sign up for last year, since it was such a short timeframe. I have ~listened~, I have ~learned~ from the first exchange, and ~*HOPEFULLY*~ I have streamlined the experience for you all!

FAQ

ASKS

SIGN UP!

CALENDER

LORE

KOFI

So without further adieu, this is how it's going to work:

Fill in this form to be included in the draw.

The form will be active until the 8th of June 2024, at which point I'll post a link to an incognito draw website (unless results in THIS POLL indicate otherwise!)

Me and @koreplus will message half of you each, letting you know WHO your recipient is as well as their likes/ dislikes

As long as you provide me with a valid Tumblr URL that allows me to tag you then everyone will be tagged on the post when it goes live :)

Access to the likes/ dislikes form will then be distributed..:

The likes/ dislikes form:

When the draw went live last year, a participant - rightly - pointed out that posting a link to a spreadsheet listing everyone's likes/ dislikes may not have been the best idea; since the dislikes section allows participants to list potential triggers.

Since the draw was already live, I rectified this by deleting the post and making the document accessible ONLY through being sent a link. This worked perfectly well last year, however (if somebody wanted to be a grade-A prick) they could have taken that link and posted it anywhere.

I've put a lot of thought into it and come to the conclusion that the only *perfect* solution would be to do the entire draw process myself, then individually message everyone who their recipient is, as well as their likes/ dislikes.

Now.

I'd really rather not have to do that, as it's going to make the entire process a lot more involved on my end; there were 56 participants last year (including myself) and I expect that number to be higher this time around since people have been following this blog in the off-season. I am very depressed and very lazy disabled and work so hard and have no monies.

But for the love of god, frotting, AND communism: I WILL pull my thumb out my ass and do that if people prefer it: Answer a poll!

ANYWAY:

You have until August 1st 2024 to create something; be that art, writing, music, ect. You then post your work and @ tag @ your partner in it! You can also submit it to this blog, however I will try to share everyone's works regardless.

Due to time zones and life in general I'll give a day's grace period, but the cut-off will be August 5th (If you fill in the form then PLEASE do try to create something for your partner, even if it's something small) Obviously things come up, so if it's looking like you won't be able to create something then please get in contact ASAP so that I can sort something out.

[omgpoindexter]

more nurseydex fics!!!

i’ve been doing my duty properly and reading some different nurseydex fics on ao3 lately 🫡 i tried to find some that are more recent, however i inevitably found some that are older but slipped through the cracks for me.

here are some of the ones i came across that you need to read! i might make this a thing again if anyone is interested, im sure y’all have been much more on the ball with reading nurseydex fics than i have over the years but i do love reccing <3

suddenly this summer it’s clear by @dessertwaffles

The summer before senior year, Nursey and Dex become closer than ever.

Or, Nursey and Dex's developing relationship, as told through their text messages.

i was absolutely grinning the entire way through this. it’s a texting fic, with images rather than plain text (so clever!) but their personalities are so strong and their interactions are just perfect! and you know i love a texting fic

getting used to letting go by @jennybeantime

Dex was supposed to have a fancy job in some city upon graduation, but his plans changed once his uncle died and left the family home in Maine to him. Without immediate obligations of their own, Nursey, Chowder and Farmer follow Dex up there to help him clear it out and clean it up.

this fic is BEAUTIFUL. if you haven’t read it then please do yourself a favour and do it now. it captures certain feelings and emotions so effortlessly and i felt like i was in a little maine bubble living this story with them. i can’t believe i missed this one before, please please read!!

got the feeling you’re the right thing after all by @bisexualnursey

Two and a half years after he breaks up with Dex to go to grad school across the country, Nursey runs into him again when he visits New York for the holidays. What starts as them just rekindling their friendship quickly turns into a whole other thing: a 100% no-strings-attached friends with benefits arrangement while they’re in the same city.

Which is totally chill because Nursey is definitely over Dex. He swears. He’s going back to California soon anyway.

i seriously CANNOT BELIEVE i never read this before but i think i was in my inactive era when this was posted. it’s just so perfect!!! all the feelings and interactions with not only dex and nursey but all the other characters, friends and family, they all felt so real and i loved them so much. i’ll be rereading this a LOT! you should too!!

here i am (leaving you clues) by @averteddeyes

Will loves Nursey. Nursey loves Will. Will isn’t really quite sure how to deal with it.

(Alternatively: Will learns acceptance through poetry, hesitant communication, and brightly colored sticky notes.)

this is really gorgeously written. angst warning, because ouch!!! also poetry as a love language, like a really good selection of poetry, i really enjoyed it and how it weaves into the story. and the bittydex friendship is so important to me!!!

volta by @plusoultres

volta (n.) a turning point or point of change in a poem, most commonly a sonnet.

Or, five times a poem doesn’t reach its intended recipient, and one time it does; five drafts, and one work completed; five turning points, and one ending.

the second fic was inspired by this one, and thank goodness it was because this one totally slipped through the cracks and i’m so glad i read it. their banter is just brilliant and i love the variation in medium, and the poetry is beautiful! i could quote lines from this but im not going to. just. read it

things got weird (when we made out) by @andtimestoodstill

Nursey is being stupid about this. He knows he’s being stupid.

super fun and really cute, i love it when these two are just being idiots. great inclusion of the other teammates too. read it for this line alone: “[You’re doing] That thing where you forget to look like you hate Dex and just stare at him like some Victorian lady who just saw a hot dude for the first time.” because it made me laugh out loud

things that go bump in the night by @smashthatlikebitty

The first time it happens, Dex rolls over and flings so many obscenities in Nursey’s direction that even his Grandmother would have to sit down — and she cursed so much at Dex’s cousin’s wedding that the whole family has been banned from that church ever since.

Nursey just stills in the dark, one shoe off. A languid, infuriating presence. “Chill, man.”

essentially all the times nursey’s clumsy ass wakes dex up in the night. oh how i love pretending these two roomied their way into a relationship! this is so cute, smiled all the way through

some things take two people to build by @cricketnationrise

“You are the single most dramatic person I have ever met,” Dex mutters, trying valiantly to hide his grin.

Or, 5 times Dex wishes their relationship was real +1 time he doesn't have to

this was so fun, yet again i love them being idiots!!! these two in new york city is so important to me. and i for one would LOVE to read the work party 5+1 fic. just saying

[blues824]

Hellooo!!! Could I request a Ciel x Fem!Reader where Reader is extremely intelligent and witty. Like she is so smart brooo. She reads HUGE books and can quote almost anything from any book, can solve any math problem, and is literally just a fucking genius. She’s very quiet and very observant too. Please ignore if needed, no pressure at all!<3

love ya!🤍

Love you too! And just so y’all know, this is how I am irl, but it depends. If I’m with people who I am comfortable with, you can tack on sarcastic to the end of the description. We’re also gonna ignore his engagement to Lizzie for the sake of this request.

Ciel Phantomhive

You both probably met at one of the Queen’s royal balls. As the youngest member of a noble family, you had to. It was mostly so your father could find another noble family of the same rank who had an unwed and unbetrothed son for you to be afianced to.

When Ciel saw you, he had to admit that you looked absolutely breathtaking. Oh, how he wished that he could properly waltz just so he could lead you out on the dance floor. But, he opted to walk up to you to start a conversation. Sebastian had the smuggest smile.

“My lady”, he took your hand in his, bowed, and placed a soft kiss on the back of it. You were a bit flustered, but you managed to brush it off. I mean, it wasn’t everyday that the head of the Phantomhive household walks up to you out of all people.

“My lord”, you gave a polite and graceful curtsy. He led you over to the table that held food. He explained that since his parents died, he was never truly given the time to be taught to dance and to excuse him for it. You both got a few sweets on your plates before you stepped aside.

You both had a deep conversation about a case that the Queen had you both working on (but didn’t tell either of you). He was very pleasantly surprised at your competence and common sense, as well as being able to piece together the evidence that he brought to you.

Once the ball was over and everyone was leaving for their carriages, Ciel escorted you arm-in-arm to your carriage to assure your safety. However, before you got in, you leaned towards his ear and whispered something.

I know that Sebastian is a demon.

He went wide-eyed as you acted like nothing happened. You even gave him a peck on the cheek as his butler helped you into the carriage. He made a note to formally invite you over to the Manor the following day so that you both could continue your conversation.

Once he did, you came and you were both locked in his office for hours working on the case. When you visited the Undertaker, he mistook you both as Mr. and soon-to-be-Mrs. Ciel Phantomhive. It was rather embarrassing for the both of you, but it made him laugh 🤷‍♀️.

After a mutual agreement between the two of you, he wrote a letter to your parents saying that he would be glad to be betrothed to you. Of course, the recipients of said letter were beyond ecstatic that their daughter had found a nice and respectable (see: powerful and wealthy) man.

Sebastian often catches you reading many different books in many different languages to Ciel to get him to calm down after a stressful day. Your fiancé is always impressed by the sheer amount of knowledge you store in that wonderful mind of yours.

You would often stick around and help Sebastian with his lessons. You set up a game where for every question he gets right, he gets to choose between receiving a sweet or receiving a kiss from you. I think we all know what his choice is here.

You very rarely get into arguments with each other, but when you do, you’ll wait until you’re both calmed down and you will talk through the issue like responsible young adults. You have both learned from each other and grew more mature with each passing day.

Each and every day, where one goes, they are not without the other in their arm. You both look like a young married couple with how lovingly you both look at each other. The love you have reminds everyone of the love Ciel’s parents had when they were alive.

[sotwk]

2nd Day of Yule: “Two Turtle Doves”

Crown Prince Mirion Thranduilion x Reader

Third Age 110 

The Last Homely House, Imladris

“Are you certain about this?” You gently stroked the downy throat of the sweet, grey-colored bird perched on the ledge of the open window. It chirped its approval of your touch, signaling not just its willingness, but its eagerness to set out on its special mission. 

But your question had not been for the amiable creature. It was for the Lady of Imladris, who finally rose from the desk where she had been working for the past several minutes while you waited, entranced by the swift movement of her skilled fingers. 

“This should do it.” Lady Celebrian flashed a triumphant smile and held up the small object, about the size and shape of an earwig, between her thumb and forefinger. “As for being certain, I think that is something you should ask yourself, not I or our little friend here.” She bent over to the bird on the windowsill, and before you could come close to see what she was doing, the tiny case that contained your letter had been secured to the animal’s right leg. “This will surely find its way to the intended recipient, so are you certain about your message?”

“I…yes, I am.” You knew you did not sound at all confident, and the blush that bloomed over your cheeks did not help matters. “I only hope that my words do not disappoint him.”

“Oh?” Celebrian’s tone was light and passive, but you were well aware of her deep love for Elvenqueen Maereth, and by extension, her sons. She had surpassed your mother in her eagerness to introduce you to Prince Mirion, even in the midst of the momentous occasion of her wedding day to Lord Elrond merely two summers ago. 

Yet Celebrian asked no questions, and gave no indication that she meant to press you for more information, whether at the moment or in the future. When you came to her to share news of the arrival of the feathered messenger from the Woodland Realm, you knew you could trust her to hold your secrets in confidence. 

However, you stopped short of sharing the contents of the letter with her, for you could not even read the words in private without sinking into a chair, overwhelmed by emotions you could not define.

“I believe he is ready to depart.”

Indeed you had tarried long enough in sending a response, almost unforgivably. You stretched out your arm, and the grey dove fluttered lightly to land on the edge of your hand.

“May kind winds carry you all the way home, darling friend,” you whispered. “Thank you for your courage.”

The messenger bird bobbed its head, trilled cheerily, and promptly took flight. In a flash it vanished into the evening sky, too quick in the darkness for even your sight to follow.

“What a long way to fly in terrible weather,” you sighed, peering up at the clouds overhead which appeared moments away from turning their icy burden into snowfall. “It seems like too much to ask of that fair little creature to brave such a journey.” 

“You may see it just as a delicate song bird.” Celebrian moved around you to close the shutters and keep out the incoming frost. “But Greenwood doves are exceptionally, deceptively hardy and utterly determined, just like their people. If that little one succeeded in finding its way here, then it will most certainly succeed in its quest home.” She slipped an arm around your shoulders to give you a gentle squeeze. “There is nothing left to do but wait.”

The Lady departed your room to leave you alone with your thoughts…which quickly turned to those words again. You glanced over at the book you left on the chaise by the fireplace. Within its pages you hid the letter that you had been reading over and over again since its arrival, even though the words had already nested within you, keeping his voice inside your head and his face in your mind’s eye. 

"The bond between two Greenwood doves is so steadfast that one could scarcely bear to be separated from its mate for long. I send this one to you because he is a trusted friend; one who understands the importance of his errand. Just as I do, he knows of separation and longing and the love that drives it all.

My only desire is to reaffirm the ardency of my affections for you. To know that you have been reminded of it, that you have thought of me, is enough to comfort me through this winter we are apart. 

I await my friend’s return with anticipation. I shall celebrate his reunion with his beloved, in the hope that I too may experience that same joy very soon."

Yuletide Series MASTERLIST

Yule Event Tag List: @a-world-of-whimsy-5 @achromaticerebus @aduialel @asianbutnotjapanese @auttumnsayshi @blueberryrock @conversacomsmaug @elan-ho-detto-elan-15 @entishramblings @freshalmondpandadonut @fizzyxcustard @friendofthefellowshipsnerdblog @glassgulls @heilith @heranintomyknife23times @ladyweaslette @laneynoir @lathalea @lemonivall @LiliDurin @quickslvxrr @ratsys @spacecluster @scyllas-revenge @stormchaser819 @talkdifferently6 @tamryniel @tamurilofrivendell @acornsandoaktrees @warriormirkwood @emmanuellececchi

[jkl-fff]

How many people said something along the lines of on/in/by [government building] for the flamingo? That's got to be one of the most common answers, right?

Also, how many people do you send these asks to? I NEED STATISTICS

Alright, we'll go ahead and call it now for statistical analysis purposes.

Some quick context for my followers who are unfamiliar with my daily, little project called "Silly Game Time" (and if this makes you interested in it, let me know in the replies, and I'll start including you). Yesterday, I dispatched the following question to a bunch of people:

In every nation, a giant flamingo (300 feet or 91.4 meters tall) shall be erected. And *you* get to decide where one of them will go on your continent, without any restrictions at all! Where are you placing it?

Final Count of Respondants: 107.

(Which surprised me, honestly, since my vague guesstimation was that I sent it to between 60 and 70 different accounts. We can therefore probably assume that it was about 115 total recipients, being liberal in factoring in people who didn't answer, since the respondant number turned out to be so much higher than I believed even the total recipient number to be. This is because I do a first-time send to pretty much anyone who reblogs one of my posts to see if SGT would interest them. Some never answer, which is fine, of course.)

As for people who placed the giant flamingo *explicitly* on or in or beside a government building (regardless of nationality, regardless of if it was executive, legislative, judicial, or even clerical in one case),

that number is 15.

However, some of them are a bit ambiguous, not being *explicitly* buildings for governance, but arguably very linked to the concept of a nation, and thereby to its government. Maybe. For example, 4 put the flamingo through the homes (or flesh) of a despised politician (hells yeah). 4 put it in heart of their nation's capital city. And 8 put it beside, balancing on top of, or as a replacement for iconic landmarks and monuments. Some of these might be weaker cases (the Eiffel Tower and the Statue of Liberty), but others feel stronger (like the Washington Monument and Big Ben).

So there you go! And thanks for the fascinating question that gave me a fun, little side project throughout the day!

[pokemoncenter]

On Time Travel

Before I begin, I wish to state very clearly that this is not to be taken as fact or a dedicated primer on the subject. This is my own attempting to sort out the information I learned from Bill on the subject, by writing it out in a clear form. There may be mistakes, inaccuracies, and misunderstandings in this text.

Bill created the Time Capsule system in 1999. This system only allows for the transfer of Pokeballs up to three years into the past, and only within the Kanjoh region. The reasons for this are energy- The further something is moved in time, the more energy it takes. The further it is moved in space, the more energy it takes. And most importantly, the more mass it has, the more energy it takes- The other two are more workable, but the mass-energy requirement increases exponentially.

A single Pokemon in its Pokeball can be sent three years across time with the electricity a Pokemon Center has. Something larger, such as a Machop outside of its ball, would take an entire city's energy for a week to make the same trip.

An adult human would take enough energy to power all of Galar for a hundred years, and they would likely cease to exist in transit. We will get back to that part.

Time is not a straight arrow that can only move one direction. It is simply another axis of movement. We all move through time at one second per second, without accounting for relativity, from past towards future. However, as it is a single axis, movement can be achieved along that axis in both directions. Thinking of it as a fourth spatial dimension can help visualize it. Time's ongoing nature is not an inherent aspect of time, but of the beings that interpret it this way.

According to the Many-Worlds Interpretation, there are near-infinite timelines. Anything that could happen in multiple ways, happens in every possible way in different timelines. Thus, as time moves forward, time branches into infinite possibilities. However, according to Bill, there are two important notes to that.

First, it is not only forward. Time actually branches out in both directions. It branches backwards, such that 'every possibility that could lead to this moment' is a branch. Furthermore, there is a principle he calls 'path of least resistance'.

The same way water moves in space according to the path of least resistance, he says that time follows its own path of least resistance. To move from one instant to the next, things that would require too much change or a change of information cannot happen. Thus, when sending a Pokeball back in time, one does not actually need to worry or account for alternate timelines- By sending things backwards in time, it will branch into the timelines where the reception is possible, by following that path of least resistance.

However, the greatest problem of this is information.

By following the path of least resistance, things that did not exist in the recipient era cannot be sent there. Not just objects, or creatures, but information itself cannot cross the gap. Knowledge would be forgotten, or be scrambled. Discoveries cannot be made.

The key principle to understanding this is that there is no omnipotent, intelligent force overseeing things. Time does not have a guardian which keeps the timeline in order. It is simply a matter of energy- The energy to overcome the 'path of least resistance' to cause a paradox with information does not exist in our world, and possibly not in our universe. Thus, time itself will 'correct' the paradox, by forcing it out of your head. This is because forgetting it is 'possible', and so it would be slid into a timeline where that forgetting does happen.

If forgetting was not possible- If there is simply too much information to be forgotten, that there is simply no way it could possibly be lost- Then there will be no timeline that can receive that time travel. At which point, the outcome is...

Either total cessation of existence, or perhaps something else. A non-timeline. Either way, once this occurred, that information is lost to us, as surely as if it fell into a black hole.

... This is all I could understand. I hope any of you can understand this as well.

[prismaticpichu]

Hi! I hope I'm not disturbing you, I'm sorry if I'm asking too much, so umm can you make Seph Zack, like Seph is trying to craft or build something, Zack is curious, Seph is writing his journal, Seph's memories when he was little, add angst, Zack protective, comfort/hurt, fun, I hope its okay for you. ♥️❤️🤗🫂

Ahhhhh! Not at all, my friendo!! ❤️ I appreciate your asks so much you have no idea lol!! 😂 ✨ Receiving prompts is all a writer can ever ask for!!!

As for this prompt!- wooo boy! That’s a lot of ingredients to add to the pot! Annnnnnnd I think i’ma just gonna be a lazy butt and shamelessly promote some fics that have covered all those points in the past! xD

*ducks chair*

LOOK A PICHU’S DMW CAN ROLL A DUD EVERY NOW AND THEN ehehhehehshshdhdhdhhdhdh

~

“Seph is trying to craft or build something, Zack is curious, fun” ~ I present to you…. my very old fic, On Pins and Needles!!! This little oneshot follows Zack discovering Seph has a little hobby that one may not expect. https://archiveofourown.org/works/39779433

“Seph's memories when he was little, add angst, Zack protective, comfort/hurt” ~ I present to you… my not too old fic, Lightning! This fic here starts with a rather brutal memory of Seph’s childhood, followed by a very loving and tender Zack comforting his friend in the aftermath. https://archiveofourown.org/works/51209863

“Seph is writing in his journal” ~ okie doke, so! I don’t reeallllly have a fic that covers this, but I DO happen to have a random snippet in my WIPs that’s literally called “Sephiroth’s Journal” 🤣🤣 Alright…. CONVENIENT LOL

~

13 September 2023

Frankly, I am not too certain what to write here. And I suppose that already muddies the purpose of why this notebook was given to me. I was instructed to simply journal my "thoughts", whatever they may be, omit everything else in my mind and write my thoughts without thinking at all. He told me I think too much. He also told me I am too stiff when I speak, and I was to try to be as colloquial as possible. "Talk to yourself!" he told me. "Mimic a conversation." I cannot promise that I will be able to adhere to this, but I will try.

I suppose if this was to be a conversation, I would start by introducing myself. My name is Sephiroth. Had I not been my own recipient, I am certain whoever reading this would have heard that name before. It is more... widespread than I would like to admit. But that is my life. "The cards I was dealt" as he would say. Though I do not believe there is any true power dealing these supposed cards, I have long come to accept them. I am not angry. I am not bitter. I am not particularly happy with them; I just play with what I was given. But I digress. I am a SOLDIER First Class, among the highest rank in the military. Please let it be known that I say this without any sense of a arrogance or pretentiousness. I have been fighting all my life, and these are the results of years of ceaseless training. I would rather not talk about that chapter of my life, however. Maybe another day. I think I will choose to focus on the present for the time being.

Such as right now, for instance. Tonight I write from my bedroom desk, a glass of water to my right and a closed computer to my left. I am much accustomed to working on a computer, if I had to be completely truthful . It is where almost all of my work is done. Incidentally, I was planning on resuming my work upon returning to my quarters tonight. But he had gifted me this journal today, and I did not want his kindness to be in vain.

I suppose I should stop referring to the boy as "Him." It is very disrespectful, now that I think about it, how I had not properly included him by now. Him--I said it again, didn't I? My apologies. The him I am referring to, his name is Zack Fair. He is a SOLDIER First Class, just as I. He is also my lieutenant.

Heh. I think I know what to write about. But I will save it for tomorrow; it is getting late. I promised Zack I would be in bed by midnight.

~

Hopefully this is a satisfactory answer lmao!! ❤️ Apologies for my indolence; I think I’ve honestly just been pushing myself a little hard lately, and I can smell the faintest ashes of a burnout spell creeping in.

[ananke-xiii]

for @slutsons-blog 💖

I'll explain the genesis of this post in case anyone else is interested!

The frame of reference of the post is basically the way I see Cas from s6 unitl 15x18 which I guess you haven't watched yet? But you're on this website so I must presume you know what happens in that episode, right? It's the episode where Cas says this:

I always wondered, ever since I took that burden, that curse, I wondered what it could be? What my true happiness could even look like. I never found an answer because the one thing I want… It's something I know I can't have. But I think I know… I think I know now. Happiness isn't in the having, it's in just being. It's in just saying it.

I'm not denying the pathos of the moment and its poetry and I understand its importance in the wrapping up of Castiel's arc for s15. However, I personally have huge problems with this way of thinking about happiness. If I put my thinking cap on I'm very suspicious of that equivalence where happiness = not having = just being = just saying. I find it profoundly false and purposely vague which makes it more interesting to analyze.

Then there's the notion of "true happiness" which always makes my ears perk up because, you know, "truth" is a super loaded topic and combined with that of "happiness" you might as well have the recipe for a philosophical bomb in your hands.

What this little declaration sounds to me is very dangerously close to the famous "happiness real only when shared", the annotation that Christopher McCandless wrote next to a passage from the novel "Doctor Zhivago", a story also about a difficult love between two people that ultimately ends in death. The passage was the following:

And so it turned out that only a life similar to the life of those around us, merging with it without a ripple, is genuine life, and that an unshared happiness is not happiness, so that duck and vodka, when they seem to be the only ones in town, are not even duck and vodka. And this was most vexing of all.

I haven't read the novel so I couldn't really speak about it but it seems to me that its political aspect shouldn't be ignored given that Boris Pasternak was faced with the threat of exile by the Communist Party (among other things) upon news of being the recipient of the Nobel Prize for that specific novel.

In this light the collectivist dream of "merging without a ripple" has some serious ominous undertones, therefore "happiness" in that passage might (or might not, again I haven't read the book, I just know of its context) as well be equivalent to omologation and comformity.

Now, of course, while I don't know and forever won't know what McCandless took from that passage that made him write the "happiness real only when shared" famous annotation, I do know that in mainstream culture this has come to mean, that is that the only real, or I might just say "true", happiness is when you share life with other people or when, I might just say, you reveal your feelings to other people. Which still hasn't solved my issue: what does true/real happiness mean? what do "real" and "true" mean and how do these adjectives affect "happiness" and decide when it's real/true and when it's not? And, finally, who dictates what reality and truth are? It seems to me that the answer to the question has just been shifted but not resolved.

And I think it's not resolved because we keep imagining our society as based on lack, on the things we can't have and never will which is a phallogocentric view of the world.

This is where the "lacanian supernatural" idea of my post comes from. If you wanna explore the inner workings of my brain, more below.

I'll try to be brief which means I'll have to oversimplifly lots of stuff which means this stuff will not be properly contextualized but these French philosophers/psychoanalysts talked.and.wrote.A.LOT. and then they modified their views during the years and also it's been 7 years since I'm done with them so it is what it is, that is I hope it'll make sense.

Basically Lacan revisited Freud's works and posited that the real trauma for people is not literally related to sex but, more symbolically, to language. He used Freud's Oedipal complex to express that the paternal function doesn't mean an actual fear of castration but it's the function that imposes the Law and defines what can be desired and attained and what cannot. For Lacan, it's not about the anatomical penis, but about the "phallus" which is a symbolic signifier of lack and sexual difference. To put it bluntly, the lacanian father(s, there are actually three fathers but let's not go there for now) is what comes between the child and the mother and tells the child: you are not your mother (but "I am your father" hahahah lol little joke), in this way he makes the child desire to go back to being one with the mother and makes the child enter the world of language which is the world of the "Law" (life like it is established to be lived: norms, social relations, kinship relations etc).

Now we have a problem Houston 'cause yes, castration is not literal, cool, but it's still something that happens. According to Lacan what gets castrated is the "jouissance": the lack of jouissance is what constitutes the subject. Now, what is this jouissance, you may ask? Well, it can't be translated into English. It can be translated as "enjoyment" altough you might want to bear in mind that "jouir" in French also means "to have an orgasm", just fyi.

Here Lacan expanded on Freud's "pleasure principle" because he differentiated between "plaisir" (pleasure) and "jouissance". "Plaisir" still obeys Freud's "pleasure principle" (everything we do, we do it to obtain pleasure and avoid unpleasure) while "jouissance" is trangressive because it goes "beyond the pleasure principle". According to Freud beyond this fucking principle there's only death: in other words humans tend towards death (the death drives). "Jouissance" is therefore both enjoyment and the road to death.

In Lacan's view "jouissance" cannot be experienced because the world is ruled by the symbolic signifier of the phallus which dictates a life based on lack as per above. For Lacan jouissance cannot be reached even by sex, the jouissance in sex is just a fantasy related to body parts. Now don't ask me why but later in life Lacan started to rethink some of the stuff he said and basically he started saying that there is an "other jouissance*", which is a "feminine jouissance" that can be experienced because it's a jouissance of the body that his "beyond the phallus" (which to me seems a total contradiction of his other points but okay, I guess), but which is nevertheless an "étrange" meaning "strange" jouissance. From this "étrange" stuff he went on to play on the word as "être-ange", meaning to be an angel, to talk about asexual jouissance.

*This concept of the "other jouissance" was then used by some French feminists, notably Cixous, to describe women's sexual pleasure and, more broadly, women's ability to create and be creative (as I said I'm oversimplifying so don't come at me tumblr academics). So no more death drive talks people, this is about creation and joy and pleasure beyond the phallus.

Finally, I want to say that I don't agree with almost anything of the above, but it's still interesting to read stuff through lacanian lenses cause some of his takes are like a trip or something hahahah. Quite a few philosophers have criticized Lacan, namely Derrida because they were like: dude, even if it's not the real thing you're basing everything on the phallus, are you okay? 'Cause, like, as you can see Lacan's central idea is the "phallus" that, anatomical or not, still gives meaning to everything. This is what Derrida calls "phallogocentrism" (the centering on the phallus + logos) i.e. the Western tendency to privilege language and the masculine point of view to create and shape discourses. Other philosophers like Deleuze and Guattari in "Anti-Oedipus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia" have criticized Lacan because his theories were based on a concept of desire as lack while for them desire is very much active, present and an affirmative vital force. They have also criticized the idea of the Other (which in Lacan is the mother but, again, there technically are three mothers but, as I've said, we won't go there) as the negative difference through which the norm (the Law) is established and have advanced the notion of positive difference, aka an Other that's not a minus compared to the Law.

And this is what I meant when I wrote in the tag that Berens is my enemy because saying that happiness is in "just saying it" means that what's important is the language and the word and that's it's okay to want and not having because desire is lack and like, no dude, not at all.

Sooooooooooooo. Are you still there?

I will proceed to translate my post now LOL.

in the lacanian (= a world founded on the phallus, therefore on lack and where desire is unattainable) supernatural that damingingly lives in my head (as you can see) the one thing castiel wants and he knows he can't have is the other jouissance (women's sexual pleasure and ability to create) but he can't have it because the narrative forces him back into his incorporeal être-ange role (an angel who has no sex and no body and cannot therefore experience other jouissance) while he pretty much wants to have a body and, dare i say, suffers from a little bit of womb envy (just my headcanon that does have some solid proof because Castiel is very closely associated with mothers, births, portals, rifts and children) because that angel doesn't have a death drive but a birth drive (as I said, he doesn't want to die, he actually wants to give birth and create but the narrative, which is lacanian, says no, you can't have that so RIP, see you in your next resurrection and, btw, from s6 you're obvi also gonna be a neurotic, good luck babe!)

Wow, this was a very, very convoluted way of saying transmasc cas rights but yeah.

[whumpster-fire]

25 Exciting Phrases to Spice Up Your Next Business e-Mail

1: "Dear Motherfucker,"

2: "To whom it may concern, as well as the entire company directory who I am cc'ing because none of you care about my time so I don't care about yours,"

3: If you'd like to know why I am sending this e-mail, please consider reading it for fucking once."

4: "If I do not see conclusive evidence of your head being out of your ass in the next 3-5 business days, I will remove it from your shoulders."

5: "Please attach a current headshot and resume: the latter so I can laugh at your alleged qualifications, the former so I can print it out and put it on a dartboard as advised by HR's Anger Management Seminar"

6: "Due to the considerable destructive forces at my command,"

7: "Cc'ing The Pope on this one to keep him in the loop since the magnitude of this clusterfuck is nothing short of Biblical,"

8: "This is the fourth e-mail I have sent asking you to do your goddamn job. The fifth will be attached to a brick hurled through your office window. You do not want to know what the sixth will be, so get your shit together ASAP please."

9: "Please keep in mind that refraining from inappropriate use of the Reply All button is the only thing separating us from descending into complete Lord Of the Flies anarchy."

10: "All, please review the selection of Dilbert cartoons attached below and reflect on how they might be relevant to the current situation and your role in it."

11: "The Carpool Committee has unanimously voted to play exclusively Alvin And the Chipmunks songs in any vehicle you are a passenger in for a month the next time you schedule a mandatory meeting before 8 AM."

12: "The potted Ficus tree by the 4th Floor break room will be taking the lead on this project from this point on since it is more qualified than any of you."

13: "I didn't think I needed to inform everyone that 'accidentally' stapling your balls to get out of Company Spirit Meetings early is against company policy. However,"

14: "Due to recent events, any personal office supplies brought from home, e.g. paperweights, must now be checked with a Geiger counter."

15: "Please be advised that if you reply with a question that indicates you have not read and understood the list of action items below in its entirety, I will kick you in the teeth so hard you will chew with your appendix in the future."

16: "We regret to announce that Sean is now an outlaw and no longer protected by our Workplace Violence Policy. This decision was not made lightly, but the current situation re: the break room microwaves has forced our hand. Cc'ing Sean to keep him in the loop."

17: "Please keep in mind that you are neither the most profitable nor the most important of our clients, and your disproportionate share of billable hours is due primarily to your whininess, entitled attitude, and inability to give a straight answer."

18: "If you feel the need to contact me outside my scheduled hours, please write your issue on a piece of letter sized paper, then roll it up, seal it inside a glass bottle, and cast it into the ocean. This will get a faster response than emailing, calling, or texting me at 1 in the fucking morning."

19: "Team, As a result of employees being bombarded with hundreds of e-mails after inadvertently hitting reply all, we are now instituting the following change to our e-mail communication policy: to help prevent duplicate corrections, when admonishing a coworker who you feel has used Reply All inappropriately, please make sure to use Reply All as well so the other recipients can see that the responsible party has already been notified of their mistake."

20: "Cc'ing you on every e-mail about this issue due to your record of not giving a shit about a problem unless your time is being wasted."

21: "Please do not disturb the protective circle of salt around the 2nd fridge from the left in the break room, and do not under any circumstances open it without appropriate PPE and an escort from an old priest and a young priest."

22: "After consulting with Legal and HR, we have determined that the ficus tree by the 4th floor break room dispersing pollen into the office environment does not constitute a violation of our sexual harassment policy. Also, please be advised that the ficus tree is female and is not the source of your pollen allergies. No disciplinary action will be taken against it. However, your repeated complaints targeted at the ficus tree based on its status as a plant may constitute a hostile work environment. Please meet with HR ASAP to discuss this further."

23: "Team, Placing an 'Elf On the Shelf' in any location on company premises or within your home office where it may be able to see, overhear, or access proprietary information will result in disciplinary action up to and including termination of employment. Company proprietary data may not be divulged to any unauthorized third parties, and that includes Santa Claus."

24: "Cc'ing Santa Claus to keep him in the loop on this one."

25: "Sincerely, The Only Guy Who Does His Goddamn Job Around Here."

[good-old-gossip]

Israeli smear campaign against Palestinian Journalist who won Courage in Journalism Award from the International Women’s Media Foundation

The International Women’s Media Foundation (IWMF) has been condemned for withdrawing its Courage in Journalism Award from Palestinian journalist Maha Hussaini, who is reporting from the war-torn Gaza Strip.

Since Israel’s war on Gaza began in October, Hussaini has published dozens of stories with Middle East Eye, including a report uncovering Israeli field executions of Palestinians, which was used as evidence by South Africa at the International Court of Justice (ICJ) in its case accusing Israel of genocide.

On 10 June, the IWMF announced that Hussaini was one of three recipients of its Courage in Journalism Awards, which it says honours remarkable bravery in the pursuit of reporting.

However, following allegations made by conservative US publication the Washington Free Beacon, the IWMF on Thursday said it was rescinding the award.

The Washington Free Beacon erroneously described Hussaini as a supporter of Hamas and an antisemite, citing social media posts commenting on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict and her own experience as a Palestinian woman trapped under Israeli occupation and siege in the Gaza Strip.

The IWMF said the comments “contradict the values” of the organisation.

“Both the Courage Awards and the IWMF’s mission are based on integrity and opposition to intolerance. We do not, and will not, condone or support views or statements that do not adhere to those principles,” it said in its statement.

That decision, made without consultation with Hussaini, has been condemned by Middle East Eye and the reporter herself, among others.

“Winning a prize for ‘courage’ means being subjected to attacks and choosing to continue your work regardless.

However, I regret to say that the very organisation that recognised these perilous conditions and awarded me the prize succumbed to pressure and chose to act contrary to courage,” Hussaini said.

With the Israeli military accused of deliberately targeting Palestinian journalists and anyone with alleged or perceived links to Hamas, Hussaini said the IWMF decision had “put my life at risk”.

The IWMF has been asked for comment.

Over the past decade as a journalist and war reporter, I have come to understand why many do not continue in this profession, especially in Palestine. In addition to immense challenges and ongoing physical targeting, there are extensive, systematic and well-organised efforts by pro-Israel organisations to intimidate and silence Palestinian journalists.

These tactics aim to push journalists to abandon their work, which is crucial for exposing flagrant human rights violations and advancing the pursuit of accountability.

This June, I received a Courage in Journalism Award from the International Women’s Media Foundation (IWMF) for my reporting on the ground from Gaza, which has been under a devastating Israeli siege and relentless bombardment for more than eight months.

During this period, I was forcibly displaced three times, moving from one shelter to another.

My home was bombed, and I endured months of starvation, blackouts and ongoing bombardment.

At times, I had to resort to using a pen and paper to send my reports via text messages after Israel cut fuel and electricity supplies and bombed the infrastructure of Gaza’s main telecommunications companies.

Just a few days after the IWMF announced my award, an Israeli smear campaign was launched on social media, demanding that it be rescinded. Within 24 hours, the IWMF complied, rescinding the award, removing my profile from its website and reducing the number of awardees from four to three.

Every year, Palestinian journalists are recognised with international awards for their brave reporting under the Israeli occupation and amid relentless attacks.

These accolades honour their courage and dedication to uncovering the truth. I have no regrets about any posts or past comments that led to the rescinding of my award and I will not stop expressing my views.

Before becoming a journalist, I was a Palestinian living under military occupation and a strangling blockade. Today, I am enduring an internationally recognised genocide in Gaza.

✍️ by Maha Hussaini

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Christina Buttons

Published: Feb 17, 2023

A young detransitioned woman is seeking justice from the medical group and hospital that facilitated her medical transition between the ages of 12 to 17, which included puberty blockers, cross-sex hormones and a double mastectomy at just 13 years old. 

The plaintiff, Layla Jane, is represented by the Dhillon Law Group and LiMandri & Jonna LLP in conjunction with the Center for American Liberty. On Wednesday, a letter of intent to sue was sent to the Permanente Medical Group and Kaiser Foundation Hospitals alleging “gross negligence” on behalf of their client, and accusing Kaiser of allowing “radical, inadequately studied, off-label, and essentially experimental treatment to occur on minors.”

The Intent to Sue further alleges that Layla’s doctors medically “affirmed” her without meaningful evaluation, failed to adequately disclose the health risks associated with puberty blockers and cross-sex hormone treatment, and emotionally manipulated her parents by proposing the false dilemma: “would you rather have a live son, or a dead daughter?” 

When Layla was a child, she experienced significant mental health and behavioral challenges. At the age of 11, she started to believe that her unhappiness was due to being "born in the wrong body," which she discovered through online research, and she began identifying as transgender. She was only 12 when she was prescribed puberty blockers, cross-sex hormones, and was evaluated for surgery. She underwent a double mastectomy to remove her breasts shortly after her 13th birthday. However, Layla eventually came to the realization that she was not, in fact, transgender. She stopped receiving testosterone injections and instead sought proper mental health treatment for her anxiety and mood-related issues.

Layla's transition story bears striking similarities to that of Chloe Cole. Both of them are now 18 years old and are taking legal action against Kaiser Permanente and the doctors who facilitated their chemical and surgical transitions as minors, two of whom they shared.

Layla Jane stated:

Many people have already seen Chloe Cole’s story and the emotional and physical damage she had to go through at the hands of “medical professionals.” I’m ready to announce that these so-called professionals did the exact same thing to me, but at an even younger age. At 12-years-old I began testosterone and puberty blockers and at age 13, I had a double mastectomy. These are decisions I will have to live with for the rest of my life. I’m ready to join the growing group of detransitioners so that no other child has to go through the torment I went through at the hands of doctors I should have been able to trust.

Layla Jane and her lawyer, Harmeet Dhillon, appeared on the Fox News program “The Ingraham Angle” last night to make the announcement. Dhillon stated that she has been contacted by many detransitioners who are seeking justice but, due to the short statute of limitations, she can only represent clients who fall within the specified time period. Experts believe that it may take 5-10 years for young people who have undergone a gender transition to realize that they may have made a mistake.

The Intent to Sue cites a 30-year follow up study conducted in Sweden that found post-operative transgender patients were 19 times more likely to commit suicide as evidence that “gender-affirming care” does not necessarily improve the mental health of recipients. Also cited are 11 studies that found gender dysphoria appears to resolve on its own when children are not socially and medically transitioned between 60-90 percent of the time.

Layla Jane is now the 8th detransitioner worldwide to have brought legal action against the medical providers that facilitated her chemical and surgical transition. She will be seeking punitive damages, the extent of which is currently “being investigated and is not fully known at this time.” The Notice of Intent to Sue will allow the defendants 90 days to respond before an official lawsuit is filed. 

A representative from Kaiser responded to a request for comment with the same boilerplate message they gave regarding Cole’s lawsuit, which was to claim that they are following “evidence-based medicine founded on sound research,” despite the fact that no empirical evidence to date supports a biological basis for “gender identity.”

While the exact number of detransitioners is unknown, and more research is needed, cases appear to be steadily rising. A forum created in 2017 for detransitioners on Reddit is adding over 1,000 members a month, and as of this writing has over 45,000 members. 

Studies that have shown a small rate of transition regret are frequently used by activists to dismiss or diminish the experience of detransitioners. However, the studies finding that 2 percent or less regret their transition surveyed only adults, not the new cohort that most are concerned about: adolescents.

In the United States, a 2022 study found that 29 percent of 68 patients seeking medical transition care changed their requests for hormone treatment, surgery, or both. Another U.S. study from last year found that 30 percent of patients who began cross-sex hormone treatment discontinued it within four years for unknown reasons. Two smaller studies in the U.K. report that between 7 and 10 percent of patients initially assessed for gender-related medical services later detransitioned. 

Layla Jane’s allegations of medical negligence and emotional manipulation by her doctors underscore the importance of meaningful evaluation, informed consent, and comprehensive mental health support for children who believe they are experiencing gender dysphoria.

==

When they won't listen to reason, maybe they'll listen to their bottom line.

[ourlordapollo]

Uh oh girl my Kristoph Gavin musings are calcifying into unshakable headcanons

Have we already talked about his pathological need for validation. Can we. Can we talk about it again.

Obviously this is all speculation and knowing the writers, the Gavins probably have some fucked up supernatural backstory and dead parents, but the writers aren't here right now. *locks the doors*

Anyway, for the sake of minimizing stupid ppl yelling at me (assuming I'm brave enough to maintag this instead of letting it rot in obscurity, unrebloggable), please mentally insert "IN MY OPINION" before every statement I make

This is a classic case of choosing a conclusion and retrofitting evidence to support said conclusion but. I'm allowed to do that. I'm not turning this into Professor Fandom for a special grade in "FAN 485: Feverishly Justifying Your Own Bullshit."

Anyway.

Let's recontextualize Kristoph's actions using the following framework:

Kristoph Gavin is a sad little boy in a man's suit, desperate for the validation of everyone around him to the point that he would do anything to get it.

1. Phoenix

A lot of people (alright, haters. A lot of haters. You made me talk like Donald Trump. Are you happy now). *ahem*

A lot of haters like to paint this move as stupid like it's some kind of "gotcha".

"What move?"

The dual move of voting in Phoenix's favor and choosing to befriend him.

Here's the thing.

Of course it's fucking stupid. We're not looking at the pinnacle of criminal masterminds here

Why did he do that? The psychosexual need to force Phoenix to submit? (Actually wait keep talking I want to hear this—) Paranoia? By this point in the timeline, he's already shown a willingness to commit murder, so why not just kill Phoenix?

Because (say it with me now):

Kristoph Gavin is a sad little boy in a man's suit, desperate for the validation of everyone around him to the point that he would do anything to get it.

He's not some wannabe criminal mastermind.

He wants to be Phoenix's savior. He wants to be the only thing Phoenix has. He needs to be the sole recipient of Phoenix's gratitude and admiration. Because he's better than Phoenix, dammit! Of course he's better than Phoenix. Law is a meritocracy, he's got money, he's got white loafers for fuck's sake, he wins trials by working really goddamn hard because being a lawyer is hard for everyone, you don't just stumble ass-backwards into the courtroom and win every case by stuttering and sweating and stalling so OBVIOUSLY KRISTOPH GAVIN IS BETTER THAN PHOENIX WRIGHT! SAY IT! SAY IT! Look! Look at them together! Look who's still a lawyer and who's an evidence-forging fraud! Look how nice Kristoph looks next to this sad burnout! Look! LOOK AT HOW MUCH BETTER HE IS!

Do you see what I'm getting at here.

Obviously on some level he knows and fears that Phoenix really is better than him, and that matters, so he he really really needs Phoenix's validation

And lbr, he probably does have a deep psychosexual obsession with the idea of forcing Phoenix to submit to him

2. Forging evidence

I'm not gonna speculate on Kristoph's lawyering skills here. Really, I'm not. However I'd be cautious about making the argument that he forged evidence solely because he thought Zak was guilty and he reeeaally wanted to win. We saw that it was an extremely tricky case and that Zak's innocence would have been very difficult to prove. It's entirely possible Kristoph believed in Zak's innocence but didn't think he'd be able to prove it without cheating.

That being said, I don't think it matters.

It matters that the case was complicated, but it doesn't matter whether Zak was innocent or guilty or a secret third thing, because Kristoph would have cheated regardless becaaauuuuse

Say it with meeee...

Kristoph Gavin is a sad little boy in a man's suit, desperate for the validation of everyone around him to the point that he would do anything to get it.

He was up against a fucking rockstar. A famous, hotshot, cocky, little upstart rockstar. A young prodigy. A fucking teenager. It didn't matter one bit that they just so happened to be related. Or did it.

Of course he needed to win.

(If you want to get really headcanony with it, which I do, I think the Gavin parents definitely raised their kids with an extreme superiority complex, setting them apart from their peers by straight-up telling them "you are better than they are. You are not like them."

Klavier goes on to prove them right by becoming internationally famous and beloved and Kristoph. Well, Kristoph is, uh. Well, he's a pretty good lawyer. Got his own little office and everything. And then Klavier comes into his domain as a cocky lil teenager with a HUGE, high-profile case and here is Kristoph's chance to demonstrate to the world what he already knows: that he's special too. That he's special. Dammit. Why can't anyone else see that.)

And then Zak takes that away from him. And gives it to Phoenix.

Unforgivable.

3. Apollo & Vongole

Sorry for putting Apollo in the same category as a literal dog but. That's kind of point here.

I've seen ppl theorizing that, although Kristoph seems like a stereotypical cat person, he got a dog (specifically a golden retriever) out of a sense of paranoia bc!! That's normal! Normal people have dogs!!! Wealthy people have purebred golden retrievers!!! I am so normal and wealthy, look at my very average typical status symbol dog!

I humbly disagree. Even the Wiki seems to point to paranoia as Kristoph's chief, driving factor, but I.

Well.

I humbly disagree. Let's not circle back around to this; I'm not trying to discount anyone else's headcanons.

Anyway.

Why a dog and not a cat?

Because cats have a reputation for independence, for coming and going as they please, for not needing you. "Dog," meanwhile, persists as a synonym for "loyal." To call someone a dog implies ultimate trust, ultimate submission, to someone higher than them. To their master.

Now.

Why hire Apollo, specifically, an orphan with few friends or connections and a fuckload of trauma?

Why mentor Apollo? Why adopt a dog? (Why befriend Phoenix?)

The answer is the same:

He needs people to depend on him. He needs others to view him as a kind, benevolent benefactor. He needs their praise, their admiration. He needs people to tell him he's special and he needs other people to see those people telling him he's special and also believe he's special and then he needs additional people to talk to those people and hear about how special he is, he needs the whole wide fucking world to say that KRISTOPH GAVIN IS SPECIAL!!!!

(Although. Maybe he just likes dogs. Not everything has to have a shady ulterior motive. People don't fit neatly into your preconceived categories of "good" and "bad." Maybe he's a murderer who loves dogs and genuinely thinks of Vongole as his best friend. Maybe he saw promise in Apollo and genuinely likes the guy. Did you ever think about that.

Or maybe. It's both. Two things can be true simultaneously and people, both fictional and real, contain multitudes and contradictions we could never hope to understand.)

4. Murdering a guy with a wine bottle, Psyche Locks

I'm gonna be so so real with you, I don't think even Kristoph knows why he did that. I think he blacked out. I think he was a lil drunk ("grape juice" my ass), I think paranoia and fury, the fear and resentment of 7 long, long years, collided like atoms in his brain and fucking exploded I think the bottle was cool in his hand I think his arm hurt I think he felt the impact all the way up his elbow I think the cards were red I think the cards were blue I think he saw Phoenix Wright's face dripping blood I think he blinked I think he heard Vera Misham calling him "angel" I think he watched himself do it from behind his own back

Do you understand.

To even begin unpacking why he did that, he'd have to address that nagging fear that maybe he's not special, that maybe he's just some guy, that Phoenix Wright is special and Gramarye was right in choosing him over Kristoph that Gramarye was justified in taking away Kristoph's shot at admiration and acclaim and Kristoph killed him out of revenge because he couldn't handle the truth that he's not special he's not special he's not special. Phoenix Wright is special and Klavier Gavin is special and now even Apollo Justice is turning out to be special and Kristoph Gavin is an okay-ish lawyer who sucks at poker and talks way too fucking much. That he committed so many monstrous acts and ruined his own life out of the perverse desire to be loved by others because he doesn't. love. himself.

(I call these "load-bearing neuroses" because if you knock one pillar down, the whole structure goes down with it.)

5. Vera Misham

So I think Kristoph is good with kids because he was, for the most part, old enough to be a Small Person when Klavier was born and because I don't think he gets off on exercising that brutal, domineering kind of power over the powerless. I don't think outward cruelty appeals to him.

Why?

Well...

Kristoph Gavin is a sad little boy in a man's suit, desperate for the validation of everyone around him to the point that he would do anything to get it.

Fear and deference are not validation. People talk badly about you and think badly about you when you're a bully. He charmed Vera instead of threatening her because he needed her to like him. He needed Drew to like him. Good god, he needs everyone to like him so much. Talk about him when he's not in the room and tell him what you said. Write him a letter of recommendation and let him read the contents. Sing his praises at your local bar, then send him a recording.

6. "Keep the riff-raff out!"

Ohhh, buddyyyy :( You said the quiet part out loud

Because law is a meritocracy. Because Kristoph Gavin is kind of a big deal. People know him. He's very important. He has many leather-bound books and his apartment smells of rich mahogany.

Only special people are able to become lawyers. And Kristoph is such a special, special boy. He's so special that he got Phoenix disbarred. He's so special that he helped Klavier attain acclaim as a prosecutor. He's so so so special.

But when a group of select people are special, it means that there's another group. The un-special group. The group that Kristoph is so afraid that he's a part of.

By admitting that they exist, that he believes that other people are beneath him, he's asserting his belief in his own inherent superiority one final, desperate time. He's clinging to it so hard his fingertips are cracking the marble. He's starting to bleed. It's starting to hurt.

Before Phoenix, Klavier, and Apollo fucking spin-kick the pillars propping up his self-identity, toppling them and sending the foundation of Kristoph Gavin collapsing into jagged pieces on the floor of his psyche.

—

Personal note but everyone seems to be in agreement that Kristoph's Psyche Locks fuckin. shattered into little bitty pieces during that scene. Don't you think that hurt? Don't you think that hurt like fucking hell? When you break [REDACTED]'s Black Psyche locks in DD, they cry out in pain several times and imply that their head hurts. And that was Phoenix doing it right that time! So I say again:

Don't you think that hurt?

[shachou]

@ofhardknoxxx asked: 𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐍𝐎 𝐄𝐗𝐂𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆, other than for his own merit. Jonouchi hadn't ruffled the feathers of a certain CEO for a while ⸺  and after seeing a special collaboration with a partnering company, there is a fuel ignited within him.

His   choice   to   approach   the   younger   male   is   smooth   one   (   so   he   thinks   ),    casually   leaning    over   the   counter   adjacent   to    the    brunet.   Lips   curl   upward    as   brows   perk   in   a   matter-of-fact   arch.

❛   You're   actually   cute,   aren't   ya   ? ❜

Pertaining to his direction over his corporate empire, Seto wasn’t prone to irresoluteness, self-reproach, or a tendency to revisiting his administrative decisions. His confidence in his management of Kaiba Corporation was as formidable and sturdy as his certainty of his own superiority as a duelist. There was, however, one particular hindrance sauntering daily across the hallways of his company that had, as of late, made him question his own mental lucidity—- because surely, surely, he couldn't have been in complete possession of the entirety of his mental faculties when he consented to the hiring of the deadbeat that was now staring at him so casually.

The other's presence, by itself, was aggravating enough. Coupled with that ridiculous expression that conveyed some form of amusement and the question that followed, it succeeded at further eliciting his irritation. The CEO didn't need to demand an explanation to know exactly what was prompting Jonouchi's words. Oh no, in fact, there were plenty of signs of the reason at every corner; the hallways, the media, his very own board of directors. The consequences of Mokuba's idea of a joke were wide and unavoidable, with the kid having already become the recipient to two consecutive life sentences of grounding ( with a third one looming closer and closer, given how thin his patience was being stretched ).

But it would be a cold day in hell before he gave Jonouchi the satisfaction of ruffling his feathers. So he raised his chin, prideful as ever, and regarded the other with a sneer.

❛  You're biting the hand that feeds you by wasting my time with your nonsense. ❜ And because he knew it would take a more tangible threat to dismiss Jonouchi, he soon spoke again. ❛  But I'm feeling generous. If it’s termination of your employment that you are looking for, I can provide that without delay. ❜