#metaphorically and physically he constantly chooses life for and because of her

[kitramune]

Inuyasha would die for Kagome. That's obvious, and there might be many people he'd die for given the scenario, now. But what's important is Inuyasha will also LIVE for Kagome. That's what I love about them.

[beautiful-monsters]

Will and Hannibal Were Not "Obviously" Having Sex—And the Acephobia in Fandom Needs to Stop

I came across a post so rancid I had to stop everything and write this. Someone claimed that Hannibal confirmed Will and Hannibal were sexually intimate but that censorship forced it to be hidden through symbolism and metaphor. Then, they went on to say that ace interpretations of the characters are “distortions” and a result of people “projecting” their own issues with sexuality onto the show.

This isn’t just a bad take. It’s blatantly acephobic, and it reflects a larger issue in fandom where intimacy is treated as incomplete or lesser if it doesn’t include sex.

First, there is no explicit or implied confirmation in the show that Will and Hannibal had sex. The claim that NBC forced Bryan Fuller to “hide” a sex scene behind metaphor is completely made up. This is the same network that aired an entire dream sequence of the characters engaged in a trippy threesome/foursome. If Fuller wanted to confirm a sexual relationship, he would have found a way. The idea that sex was “implied” but had to be hidden is purely headcanon.

The argument that Bedelia “essentially states it as fact” is also wrong. Bedelia confirms that Hannibal is in love with Will, but that doesn’t mean it was sexual. The idea that her language was specifically about sex ignores the fact that Hannibal’s love for Will is directly compared to his love for his sister Mischa, the only other person he truly loved. There’s no evidence that Hannibal ever wanted or needed a sexual relationship with Will. What he wanted was complete and total emotional intimacy. That’s why his idea of a perfect life with Will included raising Abigail together, not sex.

The idea that Hannibal “replaced” Will with Bedelia because he needed someone he was familiar with "psychologically, emotionally, and physically" also falls apart. Bedelia was a means to an end. He didn’t love her, and she didn’t love him. She was convenient. Hannibal's ideal was never "finding a new Will"; it was making Will understand and choose him.

The claim that Will and Hannibal’s violence comes from "repressed sexual tension" and that their bond is a metaphor for "sexual awakening" isn’t supported by anything in the show. If their relationship was about sexual repression, there would be some indication that Will experiences that kind of desire—yet every single one of his physical relationships in the show is with a woman.

And let's get into Word of God:

Bryan Fuller himself has said that if asked, Will would identify as heterosexual, but that his bond with Hannibal is beyond labels, tied to intellect and emotion, not physical attraction. If Will’s love for Hannibal is so intense that it transcends sexuality itself, then an ace reading makes more sense than a sexual one.

And then there’s the blatant acephobia in the original post. The entire argument hinges on the idea that intimacy is only fully realized through sex. That if Will and Hannibal truly loved each other, it had to be sexual. That sex wasn’t just a possibility but a necessity for their relationship to be real. That’s not just bad media analysis—it’s the kind of thinking that asexual people constantly have to push back against in fandom and in real life.

The post even goes as far as saying that Will and Hannibal are "deeply sexual, intensely erotic figures" and that people "projecting" asexuality onto them are "distorting" canon. That kind of language isn’t subtle. It frames asexuality as a lesser, invalid reading while treating sex as the default, superior interpretation. It directly suggests that people who read these characters as ace are only doing it because of their own personal issues with sex. That is blatant acephobia, and it's part of a larger pattern in fandom where ace readings are treated as something that must be defended, while sexual ones are accepted without question.

Even beyond the acephobia, the post is hypocritical. If Hannibal is a show that relies on symbolism and metaphor, then an asexual interpretation is just as valid as a sexual one. You can’t say, "The show never explicitly confirms they had sex, but it’s obvious through implication" while simultaneously saying, "An ace reading is wrong because it’s not explicitly confirmed." That’s not how this works.

Will’s love for Hannibal was deep, overwhelming, and life-altering, but there is nothing in the show that suggests it was sexual. His only physical relationships were with women. And the fact that people feel so threatened by ace readings that they have to act like they’re distorting canon should really make them reflect on why they’re so desperate to erase non-sexual narratives.

At the end of the day, love is not inherently sexual. Intimacy does not require sex. And people need to stop acting like ace interpretations are "forcing" something onto a character while treating their own assumptions as undeniable truth.

[aashiqeddiediaz]

something about the diaz home as a symbol of everything sacred to eddie.

something about the diaz home representing eddie's privacy and his life and by extension, christopher's, and that it's a constant, recurring motif of a life that he's built with his son. and it's always interesting to see that his home is always warm (in terms of lighting, color combos, etc etc) and welcoming, which feels so vastly different to the other two homes we've seen for him in eddie begins

something about the way he has to physically open the door to let people in to his life, and how many shots of that we've had of just him opening the damned door since. something about the way he physically lets shannon in in 2x07, or the way he braces himself with chris' encouragement before opening the door to ana in 4x08, or the way he happily lets carla in in 4x13 or the way he softens and smiles when he opens the door to buck in 6x12. it's in the way the only people we've really seen in eddie's home as "not guests" are the ones that he chooses to let in.

in that same vein, we can always tell when there's someone in there that doesn't quite belong. 5x11 is a prime example of this, and not just because of the episode title, "outside looking in." it's evidently obvious that the only reason taylor's in his house is for buck's sake, and maybe that's why we never see eddie actually letting them in. 5x03 is similar to that, in the sense that ana stays for three days with chris at the diaz home, but when eddie comes back, it's a metaphorical and physical mess that he's left standing in the middle of, alone.

and it's very, very interesting that we've never seen his parents in his house. ever. and yes, it could just be the fact that they rarely come to los angeles period, but i just think it's interesting in terms of eddie's journey with them, that the closest we've gotten to them physically being there is that facetime call with his dad, and that phone call with his mom - both of which happen after he goes back to texas in 5x17 where he point-blank tells his dad he's trying to be better for himself, and his dad meets him halfway. it only happens after his relationship with his dad starts improving.

i just constantly think of the diaz home front door, and now that i've thought of it, there's so many other moments that scream at me:

buck unlocking eddie's door in 4x14 and swinging it open to the party, and then later standing in the open doorway almost like he's protecting eddie and the life he's built in this one way because he couldn't protect him in the other way

buck unlocking eddie's door with his own key in 5x13, then bursting through yet another door to get to eddie, just to step in and sit with him in his grief - and how much that scene symbolizes that eddie may have built this life but it was after burying demons that later just crawled up through the cracks of his new home.

buck standing inside the diaz home after eddie gets home from therapy in 5x14 like this is a regular occurrence.

the way eddie's discomfort is visible in that split second scene we get of the police officers storming his home in 2x15

eddie asking shannon to leave through the back door because he may have let her into his life but he's not ready to let her into chris' and thus, he doesn't truly let her into his life - and actually, even the shot of eddie, chris and shannon at the end of that episode takes place outside the diaz home. which is...telling methinks.

eddie opening his door post-date in 4x07 to buck meeting him at it (always meeting him halfway), and just. the domesticity of it, set off by the warm lights, the discussion they have, and the looks on their faces the whole like

eddie opening his door to buck in 6x12, looking apprehensive for a second before he realizes who it is and his smile grows and eyes turn into heart-eyes and buck just pushes past him without waiting for eddie to step aside, only to go and swing his feet up on the coffee table like the diaz home is his, too.

there's so many examples but @sevensoulmates and i put this whole meta together because the symbolism in this tv show is off the charts

[rollinouttahere-writes]

This question might be off topic..👀 or strange perhaps.

In your opinion , how do you think other Strawhats if each of them were in Luffy's place instead and instead of Ace , Luffy died at Marineford?

I am trying to find a way to draw other Strawhats but slightly having troubles with finding best devasted like poses/things they's do upon such trauma☆

This wound up focusing a lot more on the long term aftermath than the initial devastation because I believe it would be pretty similar for everyone (whole lot of screaming and crying), but I hope you still find this useful or at least fun to read.

In the event of Luffy dying at Marineford, everyone would be in shambles. Whitebeard (assuming he lives) would offer them a place to stay on his ship while they regroup and try to grapple with the trauma of what happened. He isn't forcing them to join his crew or anything. They're free to go whenever they please, but he would also welcome them with open arms should they choose to stay.

Zoro splits off almost immediately and returns to his life as a bounty hunter. He is very much still pursuing his goal, just in solitude. He is constantly being inundated with invitations to other pirate crews, but he rejects all of them (sometimes violently). Luffy is the only person he will ever all captain. He blames himself a lot for his death. He was supposed to support and protect his captain, but he failed miserably. He's even more cold and removed than he used to be, and he'll never let anyone else in again. He also drinks more, to the point that it becomes genuinely concerning.

Nami also leaves, but takes more time to do so. She claims that she's only going back to Cocoyasi village temporarily so that she can process everything that has happened around familiar faces, but she never sets foot in the Grand Line again. Luffy was her safety net. Even in the most scary and intense situations, she could find solace in the reassurance that Luffy would be there to handle it... But now he isn't. He's gone forever and she feels lost without him. The Grand Line is much more scary without him leading the way. She will eventually start venturing around the Blues, but that is it.

Usopp cannot handle the survivor's guilt. He latches onto the Sogeking persona to cope after Luffy's death. It becomes extremely rare to see him without the mask, and he doesn't even respond to hearing the name Usopp anymore. He wants to go home so bad, but he can't bring himself to. He can't stomach having to look everyone there in the eye and telling them why he's back. Now would be a great time for Yassop to step up and be a father, but he's nowhere to be seen so Whitebeard steps up to the plate. He supports Usopp and actually talks him through the intense grief that is choking him. It takes time, but Whitebeard does succeed in making Usopp take of his physical and metaphorical mask by properly addressing his emotions on the matter. Usopp decides to stay with the Whitebeard Pirates and accepts becoming one of Whitebeard's sons.

Sanji is devastated. He wanted to leave immediately, but waited around for Nami to be ready to go before heading back to the East Blue. Sanji goes back to the Baratie and refuses to talk about what happened. He blames himself intensely for not being there for the battle and fully believes that it's his fault that Luffy is dead. On top of his smoking habit, he starts drinking. Everything feels so hollow now, and nothing will fill that emptiness. The only times that Zeff or the other Baratie staff members get a glimpse of the old Sanji is when Nami stops by to visit with him. Even then, he's much more subdued. He never really recovers from this and has abandoned the idea of ever finding the All Blue.

Chopper is inconsolable after Luffy's death. He feels like a failure as a doctor for not being able to save him even though there was nothing that he could do. He also chooses to stay with the Whitebeard Pirates and becomes Marco's apprentice. As devastated as he is by Luffy's death, he copes with it relatively well by throwing himself into an education. He does becomes obsessed with curing Whitebeard, however. He can't stand to watch two captains die back to back.

Robin up and vanishes as soon as night comes. This breaks her. She fully believes that Luffy's death was her fault. Someone finally loved and accepted her and look what happened to him. As far as she's concerned, she's cursed. Naturally, she distances herself from literally everyone. She refuses to let anyone else die because of her. She'll spend the rest of her life in solitude, and it probably won't take very long for that to happen.

Franky goes back to Water 7 with the Thousand Sunny after confirming that the Straw Hats were disbanding and that no one else wanted it. He makes the ship into a memorial for Luffy and takes meticulous care of it. While the death absolutely does hurt him, he copes with it the best out of anyone. He is no stranger to grief, and he bounces back relatively quick. He works for Galley-La designing ships, as well as doing so as a hobby.

Brook is similar to Robin in the sense that he believes that he is cursed. He finally let someone in and joined another crew, only for the captain to die almost immediately. He resolves to never join another pirate crew. Unlike Robin, he doesn't completely sink into despair. He pours all of his pain into music, and you can find a lot of clear inspiration from Luffy and other Straw Hats in his music. He also takes the time to visit Laboon whenever he can. He doesn't want the poor thing to be abandoned all over again.

Bonus round for Ace. Ace will never emotionally recover from this, and his grief is messy. He alternates between hysteric sobbing and an uncontrollable rage. One moment he'll be begging a god that he doesn't even believe in to give Luffy back and take him instead, but the next second he'll be destroying everything in arms reach while scream his throat raw. He's cursing Luffy for being a damned martyr. For putting himself somewhere he had no business to be. For leaving him to pick up the broken pieces in Luffy's wake. There is a noticeable improvement in his psyche once he reunites with Sabo and realizes he isn't the last brother left alive, but he is never truly the same after Luffy's death. It should have been him. He is very much at risk of dying not long after Luffy because if Garp doesn't kill Akainu, he will. And he will die trying.

[mrstevenss]

Wanna come on here to ask you all a question and to share my opinion on it…

What do you guys think from, as a show, means?

IMO, I’m starting to think it’s a metaphor for abuse, leaning towards child abuse specifically - especially with the new info that the creatures are people who sacrificed their children to live forever, which was how they solidified themselves as “monsters”. Selfish monsters who use the suffering of others for their own gain, the exact criteria for a person who would do that to their kids. It also makes sense for the idea of child abuse to be symbolised with the act of sacrificing your child. Think of it as growing a tree, but you take an axe to it and slowly cut the tree as it’s growing, then that tree will fall down before it fully grows. Like how if you raise a child around violence and terror, you’ll inherently be sacrificing that child to a life of struggle that they could’ve never had if you had simply done things differently. I mean, the show quite literally opened with a man whose wife and child died because of his ongoing neglect, and he only realised what he was doing to them once they had already suffered the consequences for his own actions

And I think the experiences of the townspeople is very similar to the experiences of someone who’s in a difficult abuse situation. Hiding / locking yourself in at night, hearing screaming (like a victim hearing their abuser(s) getting angry or fighting with another), being trapped, desperately trying to escape, feeling as though theres zero way to truly win and seeing your abusers as ‘above’ you or too smart to really fight against. I’ve even seen characters who may represent how different people respond and cope with abuse, like in season one with Jim trying to use the radio to contact the outside world for help, just for the monsters to find him again and for a storm to hit, similar to a victim trying to reach out for help just for their abusers to find out and punish them for it. With Boyd, he seems to be the “aggressive” type, choosing to stand up and fight it directly, which ends up getting him nowhere and actually angers the monsters, making his whole situation a lot worse for him. This is often the case for victims who try to face their abuser head on, which is incredibly dangerous considering it will just make them angrier and make them realise that what they’re doing isn’t working on you, therefore it’ll most likely make the abuse worse. I think Boyd especially is more on the physical side of things, constantly getting physically injured (bitten, cut, the worms infection, getting shot, concussion ect.) rather than mentally, whereas someone like Julie represents the psychological damages of abuse and trauma, with her still hearing the screams which is most likely a reference to PTSD and traumatic flashbacks. Jade, I think, is the type of person who responds to an abuse situation with a more passive route like Jim does (reaching out for help) but more self-reliant. He’s constantly studying the place and what he sees there, trying to find answers or a reason or a way out, but never truly being able to find a good way to leave. This can happen with victims who know they’re being abused but have no decent way to leave, some simply try to find a reason as to why they’re being treated the way they are just to make more sense of their situation while they’re stuck. Jade could also be a person whose been put in a state of psychosis due to traumatic experiences (didn’t he literally say this? lol)

And there was a specific case of what I think would be this shows way of showing a victim who’s still desperately trying to cling onto their abuser because they’re someone who’s supposed to love them (mother, father, husband, wife ect.) as a way to cope with the abuse, and that’s Kevin, the guy who let Jasmine into colony house. I think it could also be a display of when a victim lets an abuser in their lives because of love, and ends up getting themselves and even other people hurt. This could also tie in with child abuse, where an abusive parent neglects their child and in result the child will grow to seek any love they can find even if it hurts them, and many times they either won’t know they’re being abused due to not knowing real kindness, or they ignore the abuse because of the “love” they feel from the relationship

As for portraying the actual life of a victim post-abuse, once they’re away from their abusers, I think of things like Martin being trapped in the dungeon. Away from the monsters, but still having the place itself feed off of him. This could be about the trauma and potential PTSD that victims develop from being through something so damaging. And with Boyd and Sara venturing off into the forest to discover what’s out there, they still get hurt, like getting their tent dragged and Boyd finding his “wife”, I think it could be referencing an abuse victim going out to the real world, away from their trauma, and finding that it can still affect them through things like triggers, mental illness, habits they’ve picked up, relationships, maybe even victim-blaming and seeing the stigma that can surround their experience. I especially think this with Sara saying “there are things out here that are worse than the monsters”, and with Boyd showing that your trauma will often find ways to come back to you (and bite you :) sorry Boyd)

[theromanticrationalist]

My Thoughts: Young Sheldon 7x02 A Roulette Wheel and a Piano Playing Dog

Look how cute he is! Cute as a button! 😙 Awwww! Baby! It is so difficult for me to watch Sheldon struggling. Imagine being a fish out of water your entire life where your one socially acceptable trait is your intellect, which surpasses everyone’s, only to be thrown into A WHOLE OTHER COUNTRY, taking the fish metaphor to a whole other level, only to discover THE one quiver in your arsenal is utterly moot.

Damn. My poor baby string bean! But he handled it so well. He pushed through! I am proud of my Shelly! It is the aspect of why YS is better than TBBT because they allow for Sheldon to be a more complex individual and don’t treat him like a child, even though he is literally a child. The show allows circumstances to push against him, to make him stronger, and the narrative isn’t constantly belittling him as if he can’t handle life at all. It is actually quite a big deal that Sheldon was able to keep his mouth shut and humbled himself under an authority in order to learn what he needed to. And he did this by HIS choice! He listened to what those around him where telling him, and chose the wiser path. He didn’t have to be coerced, manipulated, or browbeaten into it, which was often the route TBBT took.

Well, his tutor DID use physical reinforcement, but a wrap on the hand is good for the boy. 😁

Which brings me into my next thought, I don’t think this moving back and forth from Texas and Germany is going to work really well for the storytelling. I want to see how the whole Cooper family is doing, of course, but I am primarily watching this show for Sheldon! I don’t feel like they are able to spend the amount of time necessary to really explore this experience he is having. It feels so rushed. I don’t like it. I want more time to process Sheldon’s life lessons here and how he is feeling about it. It is the same old story! This is literally one of the biggest problems with American media.

They. never. give. enough. time. to. the. story. EVER. !!!!!

🤦‍♀️ Why are you the way that you are, American Media. I hate so much everything that you choose to be.

Anyway, I did love the heart to heart chat between Missy and Georgie this episode! That was so sweet! They are learning what it means to have responsibilities and that growing up requires so much thankless sacrifice. I love the bond that Missy and Georgie have, and I am glad we got to see them process this experience together. And way to go Missy for not only stepping up, growing up, and being so mature and on top of things, but she also is learning about boundaries! Damn girl! 🔥 I know Mary Cooper loves serving her family so I love that aspect about her, but the boys definitely shouldn’t leave all the house stuff to the women folk, as if they have to be served and waited on. Missy is killing it! 💪

Missy and Sheldon, two sides of the same coin! I hope to talk more about that later! 😉 Now it’s time for...

My Favorite Sheldon Cooper Quotes: Sheldon: "And they laughed at me for not knowing something they knew! Who does that?!" Mary: ". . . you do." Sheldon: "This is no time for a teachable moment! Your child is hurting." Mary: "Sorry." *pats him on the arm* "There there." Sheldon: "I guess that'll do. Now how about a hot beverage?" Mary: 😑

Sheldon: “Oh! I see the problem! This is stupid! You can’t just invent dimensions. There is this one, this one, and this one.” Mei-Tung: “You forgot the dimension of time.” Sheldon: . . . Sheldon: *holds out his hand* Mei-Tung: *slaps it with a pencil* Sheldon: “Ow! . . . Thank you." Sheldon Prime: "I wanted to give up and runaway. But I had read enough comic books to know that heroes don't quit. Instead of running I decided to stay and face the biggest challenge I've ever had: keeping my mouth shut. This turned out to be a pivotal moment in my life. By being open to people smarter than me, I grew as both a man and a scientist. Humble. Brilliant. I really am the whole package!"

[boredtechnologist]

Beyond the Scalpel: The Bleeding Heart of Trauma Team

When most people think of Atlus, their minds leap to demons and psyche-bending RPGs - not surgical gloves and hospital beds. But Trauma Team (Wii, 2010) is no mere medical simulator. It’s a bold narrative experiment, a multifaceted emotional thriller disguised as a hospital game. And beneath its scalpel-sharp precision lies a dark, beating heart - one that asks uncomfortable questions about what it means to heal, to sacrifice, and to carry the weight of life and death.

Six Roles, Six Moral Frontlines

Unlike its predecessors in the Trauma Center series, Trauma Team doesn’t tether the experience to one miracle-working surgeon. Instead, it fragments the perspective across six specialists: a trauma surgeon, an orthopedic surgeon, a diagnostician, a medical examiner, an EMT, and an endoscopic surgeon. Each of these characters becomes a narrative scalpel, carving away different layers of the same question: What does it mean to save a life when you're losing yourself?

CR-S01, the trauma surgeon, is introduced as a criminal stripped of his name and freedom, performing surgery as penance. He is literally healing to atone - a metaphor for how many in medicine are haunted by the past.

Naomi, the forensic examiner, interacts only with the dead. Her cold detachment becomes a shield, a coping mechanism, until even she can no longer hide from the emotional toll of her role.

Maria, the EMT, is constantly on the front lines, surrounded by chaos. Her story explores what it means to choose to step into danger when escape would be easier.

Each narrative thread forces the player to ask: Is this a job, a duty, or a punishment?

The Plague of Nihilism: Rosalia and the Delphi Virus

At the core of Trauma Team’s shared narrative is a chilling bioterror plot: the Delphi Virus, a weaponized pathogen designed not just to kill - but to infect hope itself. What makes this threat compelling isn’t the virology - it’s the philosophy.

The virus is named for the Delphi group, a reference to the ancient oracle - symbols of knowing fate, yet powerless to change it. That symbolism runs deep. The virus isn't just biochemical - it’s existential. It’s an engineered despair.

Rosalia, the girl at the center of it all, is less a patient and more a cipher. The trauma she embodies isn’t just physical - it’s the trauma of being used, reduced to a vessel, and losing her agency. Her haunting silence speaks to a darker truth: sometimes medicine fails not because the science is lacking, but because the soul is already scarred.

Diagnosis as Philosophy: Gabriel Cunningham’s Inner Battle

Dr. Gabriel Cunningham, the game's diagnostician, is one of its most layered characters. Arrogant, sarcastic, and dismissive on the surface - he hides a crushed spirit beneath the jokes. His arc is not just about solving rare diseases. It’s about confronting emotional paralysis.

His method of diagnosis plays like a mystery game, but the true mystery is him. Can someone so emotionally distant really understand what’s wrong with others? Each case is a mirror, forcing him to face the reality that clinical detachment doesn’t inoculate you from pain - it just hides the symptoms until they metastasize.

Death Is the Teacher

The forensics segments feel more like interactive grief rituals than puzzle games. You’re dissecting corpses - but also narratives. Every body Naomi examines has a story, a message that screams beneath the silence. Atlus pulls no punches in showing that even the most "routine" deaths echo with tragedy, injustice, and loneliness.

It's one of the few games that dares to say: not every life gets saved, and not every death has closure. Sometimes all you can do is witness.

Healing vs. Control

Trauma Team constantly walks the line between healing and control. It asks: are doctors just playing god with tools? Or are they the final line of defense against a world indifferent to suffering?

Even the gameplay reflects this - precision mechanics contrast with chaotic emergencies. The illusion of control collapses quickly when a flatline hits mid-surgery or a diagnosis leads to the wrong treatment. It’s not about being right - it’s about being present in the face of overwhelming odds.

Final Diagnosis: Hope Isn't Always Clean

In true Atlus fashion, Trauma Team never offers a clean ending. There is no single moment of triumph - only smaller, quieter victories: a patient stabilizing, a child rescued, a regret admitted aloud. It’s not just about curing the disease. It’s about seeing the person still standing after the trauma.

Because in this world, salvation is messy, and healing doesn’t mean you walk away unchanged.

[superblycaffeinated]

For more Nebraska, Ace, Bombshell and Wise Guy stories (and other Gallagher Girl fics), see my GG Masterlist

summary: The one where Matthew Morgan and Rachel Cameron share a turning point moment in their relationship (aka, Rachel makes really bad coffee and steals Matt's shirt)

2.5k words

A/N: This is still one of my most favorite things I've ever written - was originally posted on my old account // it has been edited slightly since my original writing - I appreciate any new notes left for it! 💙

Is That My Shirt?

Rachel Cameron / Matthew Morgan

The thing is, they’re all tired. 

Maybe that’s why he’s met his end with the virtue of patience. Maybe that’s why if Rachel blows a bubble of her gum one more time, snapping it loudly, he’ll shove his head in between the couch cushions. Maybe that’s why he flicked Joe in the temple when he ate the can of baked beans without asking if he wanted any. Maybe that’s why he accused Abby of cheating at cards or why he said what he said about Rachel’s coffee. Maybe it’s because the four of them haven’t been alone together, in this small of a space in a long time. 

They just don't do missions like this together anymore. Sure, he goes on almost all of them with Joe. Him and Abby still pair up occasionally. Him and the girls together - less frequently, but still. Hell, even him, Abby, and Joe have been on a few together. 

But rarely all four of them anymore, and on top of that, it did not end the way it was supposed to. It did not go the way these sorts of things are supposed to go. Joe’s got a cut to his temple, Abby a dislocated shoulder, Matt’s got bruised ribs, and Rachel has a cut down her side that could have been a lot worse if he hadn’t been there ( even though his being there resulted in the aforementioned bruised ribs). The point is though, that they’re tired - broken in the physical and emotional sense and he notices the hatred they’re all starting to feel for one another. 

Matt can’t handle being in the same room as Abby and Rachel at the same time anymore. Between Abby’s lips that are either constantly sucking on a tootsie pop, talking a mile a minute and Rachel’s eyes that seem to pierce straight through his heart. Then suddenly they’re fighting about something, turning to him and asking him to choose a side. He’s left to flounder like a fish that’s been out of water for too long. They look at him with those eyes and say his name with those lips and he’s desperate for air and to leave the situation he somehow keeps finding himself in. He’s just always sitting between the two of them, both exits blocked - a metaphorical dock that the only way out is to flop around hope for the best. 

And if it’s not them, it’s Joe and Abby looking at each other over their mugs or their books or whatever it is they’re pretending to be interested in instead of each other. 

But if Joe isn’t preoccupied with making eyes at Abby, his mouth is working at Rachel. The two can’t last five minutes, nope, at this point, five seconds without a snide remark meant to sting directed at each other. It’s eye rolls and glares that could freeze hell over. It’s deep sighs that say a whole lot when nothing is actually being spoken between the pair. And like clockwork, Matt’s just left in the middle, both of them turning to him in search of validation, and he’s left gasping for air, falling for the bait yet again. 

They may be the three people he cares most about in this world, but my god, he’s really tired of looking at their faces and hearing their voices. He’d gladly take the 4am wake up calls and milk cows for the rest of his life if it meant he could get out of that shack finally. 

It has to be how tired he is, that’s making him so heartless, that’s making his straws disappear until he’s left with his last one to lose. But maybe he wouldn’t be so damn tired if Rachel would just let Joe make the coffee. 

Which is exactly what started the argument. She insists on making it when Joe is sitting right there and could make it ten times better. He doesn’t know how it happened, but somehow they all agreed to let her keep making it and it has been days of it and today was it, he’d had it - the last straw. Joe had the beautiful can of coffee in his hands and she took it, declaring she’d make it instead. 

Which is when the comment slipped out. Something along the lines of “...so stubborn. Lord forbid we all have a decent cup of coffee for the first time in two weeks.”

Rachel had clutched the coffee pot in her hand with a grip that made his palms sweat. Abby had run for cover into the bedroom and Joe had muttered something about showering. 

She set the pot down and crossed her arms and Matt can only think about how he wished he’d had a chance to taste his mama’s potatoes one last time before Rachel Cameron kills him. 

“You don’t like my coffee Morgan?”

He absolutely does not.

“I don’t not like your coffee…Joe just makes-”

“Well, if my coffee is so bad, why have you been drinking it for two weeks?”

He asks himself this every day, but she doesn’t think she’d actually like an answer as she keeps drilling into him.

“Why haven’t you asked your precious Joe to make your coffee for you, huh? What? Afraid to hurt my feelings? I’m a girl, right, so you can’t-”

“Now, hold on a minute,” he interrupts her, leaning over the counter. Face and voice heated as he continues, “I was afraid to hurt your feelings, but not because you’re a girl, because you’re my friend.”

Her mouth shuts, their faces close together and he takes advantage of her silence to keep going, “Have I asked Joe to make coffee? Yes, yes I have. He has refused because he also cares about your feelings, but more likely he likes being alive. But Rachel, and I say this with all the love in my heart, you have to let him make it because you make the most awful coffee I’ve ever tasted in my entire life.”

As the words tumble out of him, he instantly regrets them. Matt realizes then that there’s this uncanny resemblance in the look Rachel’s giving him with a bull that’s charged him on the farm, but he really doesn’t think now’s a good time to mention that. 

Other than those eyes, nothing gives away what she’s thinking or what she’s feeling. Rachel just clears her throat and takes a step away from the counter and yells, much too loud, “Joe! Get out here!”

The tiny one bedroom safe house shakes and moans. Matt knows that logically, it’s from the wind and not her voice, but he can’t help but think that Rachel Cameron could move mountains and crack the earth open with her bare hands if she wanted to. 

Joe stands in the kitchen entrance, face devoid of an expression but Matt knows he’s equally annoyed and terrified as he cocks his head and says, “You hollered?”

Rachel levels him with a stare that would make even Han Solo cower, he’s sure of it, but Joe stands tall and folds his arms, matching her equally. 

“Can you show me how you make your coffee?”

Matt wants to warn him - tell him it has to be a trap, but he’s far more desperate for even a chance at his coffee and at this point he’s willing to let Joe risk his life for it. Especially when Joe hesitates briefly, but steps into the kitchen and grabs the can. He is practically drooling as he listens and watches Joe go through his steps. He barely registers that Rachel is watching carefully, studying, like it’s just another test she has to pass, another thing for her to become the best at. She watches the way Joe scoops the coffee, pressing a curl behind her ear, but never removing her eyes from his hands like it’s something she will need to study, practice, and remember for years to come like a skill for a mission. 

Matt doesn’t see the look on her face when Joe pours a mug, sliding it across the counter and he swallows it down in the three gulps, not caring in the slightest that it’s burning him. He slides the empty mug  back over for more instantly, he could cry it tastes so good. 

When Abby peeks around the corner and Joe hands her a mug, the three of them devouring it, Rachel stands there stunned. That’s when he notices the sadness flash across her eyes - like they’ve all been lying to her. 

Rachel turns and leaves the room quickly and Abby starts to follow. Matt shakes his head, setting the mug down regretfully, patting her shoulder. “I got his one. It’s my fault.”

Rachel Cameron is many things. She’s smart. She’s patient. She’s tenacious. She’s a leader - and a damn good one at that. She’s kind and loyal and one of the best friend’s a person could have. Sure she can be abrasive and blunt, but she’s always right even when you don’t want to admit it. But for the first time in two weeks, for the first time in perhaps all their years together, Matt notices a lot more about her than he has before. He feels like he’s failed Joe, his number one lesson, but if he’s being honest with himself, he’s failed Rachel. 

It’s only a few seconds, a knock of his knuckles on the door and her head turning to look over her shoulder before ducking back down, but that’s when he takes it all in. 

Rachel is tired. He can see it in the way her eyes don’t shine as much, creases underneath and the color just a little dim. Rachel is scared. He can see it in one of her fingers, where the skin is picked raw around her nail. Rachel is sad. He can see it in the damp skin in the corners of her eyes and the way her nostrils flare, like she’s trying not to sniffle. But more importantly, he notices Rachel completely. He notices the air that’s always around her, has shifted without him realizing. It’s thick with worry and sadness, so much of it that he can’t believe he didn’t feel it sooner. And then, there’s the most curious thing he failed to notice - the shirt Rachel is wearing, the shirt she has been wearing since yesterday morning, meaning either she slept in it or put it back, but either way , is not her own. It hangs loosely off of her shoulders, swallowing her - it’s a man’s shirt. It’s black and faded and he sees the tiny rip at the collar.

“Is that my shirt?”

Rachel doesn’t lift her head again, she just continues to unpack and repack her bag, double checking she has everything. 

“Don’t you have coffee to drink, Nebraska?”

She shifts, and he sees just enough of the light saber to know for sure. 

Rachel Cameron is wearing his shirt. Rachel Cameron is wearing his favorite and most lucky shirt. And Matthew Morgan’s head feels like it’s not quite attached to his shoulders anymore from the sight of her in it. Or maybe his head is swimming because he’s impressed she swiped it from his bag and has been wearing it for who knows how long without him noticing. 

She turns to face him fully, arms crossing over Luke’s face as she raises her eyebrows. “What? Most delicious cup of coffee got your tongue?”

Rachel Cameron looks good in his lucky t-shirt. Matt’s head feels fuzzy, his tongue feels too big for his mouth, his chest is tight and his heart starts pounding when his brain, against his will, starts to imagine her in just his shirt, those blue jeans she has on are long gone and-

Heat blooms underneath his cheeks and he looks down, clearing his throat. “He really does make delicious coffee, Rachel. It wasn’t anything against you, honest.”

Her bare feet cross over each other as she clears her throat too, gazing at the same spot on the floor. “Well, I’ll try to do better next time if coffee is that important to you Matthew.”

He looks up at the use of his name and those damn eyes don’t just pierce him, they rip at him, devouring every thought and feeling he’s ever had and he doesn’t even try to fight them off. Rachel’s lips twist up slightly as he gestures to the shirt, his cheeks definitely pink and growing darker. “It…it looks good on you. By the way.”

Her lips stop fighting the twist, revealing the rare and wonderful Rachel Cameron smile, if only for a second, before returning to her classic smirk. The one that tells you she knows more than you do. The one that pulls you in just to tease you. The one that makes you want to take those lips that are smirking and just press yours to them in a deep, and passionate-

“What, this old thing?” She fingers at the hem, looking down and then back up at him, blinking innocently. 

“You know that’s my lucky shirt, don’t knock it. Why’d you steal it, anyways?” He takes a step towards her. 

Rachel takes her own step towards him, the air around her, around them, changing again. It’s like that perfect moment between the sunset and dusk in the summer. The sun is just at the horizon line and everything is a little heavy and lazy, everything moves a little slower, basking in the last moments of golden and warm light. It’s perfect and fleeting and most people let it pass every day without truly noticing it, but that’s what makes it even better when you finally do. 

Matt watches her gaze bounce over his face, he listens and watches the deep breath she takes, he can feel the words leaving her lips, practically tasting them as they float through the air on a whispered breath. 

“Well maybe I was hoping to get lucky.”

Without realizing, they had taken another step closer, their bodies almost touching. His fingers gently pull at the hem, rubbing the fabric between his thumb and forefinger. She tilts her head up to look at him. He’s not sure what’s happening, but he’s not mad about it in the slightest. 

Matt swallows, stealing a breath when Abby shouts, “Hey! We got news from Langley!”

The sweet moment pops like the bubbles Rachel blows with her gum. It’s night now, the lazy summer sun dipped below the horizon, the moment over, the world a little cold again. They each blink at each other, his fingers drop and they both take a step away. 

He follows her out of the room, watching her walk away from him until she steals a glance over her shoulder as she rounds the corner.

Maybe he’s just tired, and that’s why he thinks Rachel Cameron looks damn good in his Star Wars shirt.

But, the thing is, he’s had three cups of Joe’s coffee now and he doesn't feel all that tired anymore.  

[tgirl-autumn]

i really, really like arsenios arc. it’s clearly a parallel for being queer with religious baggage right?

i mean the whole rest of the manga is about sex and gender and such, and arsenio is no different. he was born and raised to believe that monsters are inherently, fundamentally evil, that there’s no redeeming them. and then one day he becomes a monster, and he can’t forgive himself. he’s constantly holding himself at a distance from others, denying himself his hobbies and his feelings, because he believes he’s fundamentally evil. all the while it’s clear as day to everyone around him who doesn’t have the same religious context that him being a monster is irrelevant - he’s a really good person, and cares deeply about the people around him.

… and then sam drags the spirit out of him and all of a sudden, he’s faced with a sobering reality. he can be a human again. right now. he has the opportunity to walk away, drop the spirit and the magic, and live a normal, peaceful life as a human. everything he’s ever wanted. and he gets so, so close to doing just that.

but he can’t. because being a monster doesn’t just mean he’s evil, it’s more than that. he’s met betty because of it, he met rei and lloyd and eric by extension, and fuck, he’s able to help betty because he’s a monster, not in spite of it. being a monster means so much more to him than just being ‘evil’, it’s a fundamental part of him, and even if it’s just for betty’s sake, even if it’s just for the time being so he can help her, he begs lloyd and eric to help him get his sprit sarah back.

but that’s really just the first step right? like he’s accepted that he needs, maybe even wants to be a monster for the time being, but that doesn’t stop him from clinging on to the old beliefs and habits where he constantly distances himself from others and refuses to let himself be happy. he’s still living entirely for the sake of betty, without a single thought for himself, and as far as he’s concerned, being a monster still makes him fundamentally evil. choosing it himself rather than having it forced onto him just makes it worse.

the gears in his head have also started turn though. like the scene in the garden later where they’re discussing homosexuality, and after arsenio makes some rude comments eric mentions that 1/10 people are AB blood type, and 1/10 people are gay. and it gets arsenio thinking like, why? why does it matter? i’ve been taught my whole life that these people are unredeemable but.. why? is it really that big of a deal? and the scene about him not pursuing blacksmithing because that’s a sacred thing, and he’s evil, and rei goes… but you’re still able to do it, right? there’s nothing physically stopping you? and he has that moment where he’s like. I could. why shouldn’t i be able to do this? why shouldn’t i be able to pursue the things that make me happy just because im a monster? why can’t I?

in my opinion this part of his arc all comes to a head when he’s talking with betty about his feelings and about how he’s chosen not to take a lover, he knows he can’t because he’s a monster and that’s wrong and then she just

and you can see his face and it just. it’s like he’s just had a revelation he’s been waiting for for his whole life. of course monsters can fall in love. why shouldn’t they? why shouldn’t they be able to live and laugh and dance and find joy and love?

anyways. it’s pretty obviously a thinly veiled metaphor for queerness and i’m really enjoying it

[wolint]

THE BURDEN BEARER!

THE BURDEN BEARER

Isaiah 46:3-4

 

We would all love to be carried about daily and for someone to bear our burdens. Yet, we have one who does this without fail. The responsibilities of life can press down on us and become overwhelming. The demands or expectations of others around us can also weigh us down.

Yet, God, our burden-bearer, is the one who decides that the load we’re carrying is too heavy to bear, so He takes that load on Himself to ease our pain and give us comfort. Isn’t that wonderful?

Sadly, so many people, including believers, have decided they can carry their burdens themselves, but complain about the weight of them, while demanding someone help them.

“I have been carrying you on my back since you were born,” the Lord said to the Israelites in the message translation of verse three, and that’s what the Lord is saying to us even today.

There is a huge contrast between a god who is carried about by his worshippers and a God who carries His people around. I know which one I’d follow. What a comforting idea! It’s interesting that God has been carrying us around and will continue to do so until old age, to death, and even forever.

The burden bearer bears a great significance to motherhood as well. We see God’s maternal nature shine through with the image of a mother carrying her child on her back, in every situation, in pain and discomfort, irrespective of how old that child is. They are never too old, big, or heavy to be carried metaphorically by their mothers.

As we grow older, weaker, and frailer, God becomes our strength and burden bearer because He doesn’t grow older or weaker. He is the ageless God and the Ancient of Days according to Daniel 7:9.

Religions the world over are either that of fanaticism or a feel-good experience, but the Christian faith is, or should be, a relational involvement with God the Father through grace by faith, which allows God to carry us tenderly through our earthly sojourn.

Religion and false gods cannot care for their followers but expect obedience to their stringent laws and practices. Our God, on the other hand, wants the best for us, cares for us, and carries us through life.

As powerful as God is, He cannot take our burden off us by force if we refuse to hand them willingly to Him. That’s why He encourages us to lay them down, whatever the burdens may be, lay them at the foot of Jesus according to 1 Peter 5:7 and Psalm 55:22.

Psalm 68:19 says God bears us up daily, not occasionally, sometimes, often, when we’re tired, or when we need to be carried, but consistently, constantly, and continually. Why would you give God a fraction of your issues, pain, and tears? He wants you to entrust everything to Him to bear them for you.

You can only rest in Christ, not in crisis. Life itself is full of drama, and the Prince of Peace is beckoning to you to come to find and receive rest for life’s restless journeys according to Matthew 11:28.

Why would you choose to limp painfully when the Lord of Hosts is willing and ready to carry you and strengthen you for the journeys ahead? Human life is filled with many physical, emotional, and spiritual burdens. These burdens should lead us toward God, who desires a relationship with us.

An extract from the “Footsteps in the Sand” poem describes the Lord perfectly as our burden bearer.

He whispers, “My precious child, I love you and will never leave you, never, ever, during your trials and testing. When you saw only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you.” Amazing! Even right now, you are in God’s arms.

Let God carry the burden, leaving you free to worship Him.

PRAYER: Thank you, Lord, for bearing me up and helping me with the weight of the responsibility for life. May I always willingly take all my burdens to you in Jesus’ name. Amen.

Shalom

WOMEN OF LIGHT INT’L MIN.

[lit-in-thy-heart]

that's right, i'm back with more merlin gif thoughts

today: mithian

more specifically: why she chooses to cling to merlin.

If you look at the shots before and after the attacker in the first gif, you can see that she changes from being in front of Rodor to jumping behind Merlin (she also looks like she's been running from a different direction but we'll gloss over that). Now, Mithian is more than capable of handling herself, but she has been exhausted by the ordeal Morgana has put her through and doesn't have a weapon on her, so it's understandable that she wants to have a bit of security by back-hugging someone else. It also makes more sense that she'd go for Merlin, who is probably not going to actively engage with the enemy, to be more out of harm's way but, at the point of the first gif, Rodor is also a viable option. After all, both he and Merlin have a sword, and both are just as likely not to use it (of course, Rodor does, but Mithian doesn't necessarily know that).

So why does she choose Merlin?

Merlin has miraculously recovered from a serious head injury and has sprinted all the way there. By all accounts, he should also be exhausted. And look at the way he's carrying his sword. It's fwubwubwubwubing all over the place, especially if you compare it to how Rodor holds his. It's pretty clear that Merlim hasn't had much experience in using a sword, even if he did just use one to save Arthur. Merlin, by all accounts, is still recovering, and cannot fight with a sword in combat to save his life. Yet Mithian grabs him and nearly pulls off his jacket in her desperation.

Neither of them are stood in the best position, either. Sure, they're away from close combat, but the way that they're angled (and the way Merlin is holding that sword, it's not a stick) means that they could very easily be caught unaware by a blow on their side. Yet Mithian isn't angling Merlin in a more offensive position, which makes me think that she trusts him, despite never seeing him in combat. And whilst he has been close with her in this episode (very interesting, given their somewhat rocky start in 4×11), trusting someone in most areas doesn't necessarily mean that you trust them in combat.

Does Mithian know that Merlin has magic?

Mithian is shrewd. Extremely shrewd. She manages to pick up that Merlin doesn't particularly like her in 4×11, that Arthur values Merlin's input, and that there is someone else Arthur loves all during her first meeting with them. I don’t think it's much of a stretch to say that, knowing about Merlin's magic or not, she knows that he is her best shot at not getting injured.

Mithian has (presumably) lived in Nemeth all her life. She knows the land, the climate...and earthquakes are not going to be common, not on that scale. So when there's an earthquake and Merlin suddenly appears and Morgana doesn't follow them (Mithian is well aware of how powerful she is and she could probably avoid all of the debris -- I mean, she somehow avoids being crushed to death, so), Mithian is going to be putting some figures together. And even if she doesn't come to the conclusion of magic, she comes to the conclusion of Merlin seemingly has nine lives and some ethereal shit going on.

It's highly likely that the knights were trying to distract her by telling stories on the way and I can guarantee that there is an entire list of dangerous situations they've landed themselves in where Merlin has miraculously escaped unscathed, despite them all losing sight of him at one point and him having no weapon to speak of. Mystical servant who can repel death? I would also be clinging to that like a cliff edge if I was terrified and had no weapon.

Whether Mithian does think Merlin has magic or not, I think the key reason she clings to him is because of that blind trust. Mithian metaphorically clings to Merlim throughout the episode: she directs him to the rock with Morgana's name, constantly tries to tell him things through her face alone, and clearly feels she can lean on him (he helps her sit down when she has an audience with Arthur). There is no given reason for this extent of trust, but that Mithian can be so physically intimate with him after being constantly injured by Morgana definitely shows just how much she does put her faith in him. And that level of trust would definitely bleed into every element, including combat. Her father, Percival, and Arthur are all experienced fighters. But her father is weakened and she doesn't want to add to his load. Arthur and Percival were unable to notice that anything was wrong (aside from her father being missing), whereas Merlin immediately noticed her burn and was very quick to question it (and here I could go into a whole thing where Merlin notices when other people are acting off but nobody notices when he does, thanks @little-ligi for putting that in my head). So not only is Merlin able to repel death, but he is also incredibly perceptive. He is going to notice as soon as an attacker enters his peripheral vision. Mithian trusts him to keep them both safe.

So whilst Mithian may or may not know about Merlin's magic, she definitely knows that he is her best bet of staying alive. And the fact that she pins her life on his back is one of the reasons why I absolutely love them. There are three knights there, yet she chooses Merlin. Because something draws her to him, perhaps she sees a part of herself in him, and she knows that he is significantly more valuable than anyone gives him credit for.

[flowers-of-io]

I like the theory, but i'm not sure i agree? Like the Light being more of a primal force, connected but distinct from the Gardener/Traveler is really great and how I like to think of it also. However, i feel like it's very possible that despite the Gardener's philosophy it may have killed Ghaul intentionally anyways, because of what he clearly wanted the light for. With how bad the warlords were during the dark age, I think it's safe to say the Traveler doesn't know everything about who it chooses, but it had to be very clear that Ghaul wanted the light purely for dominance, and to basically (even though he didn't know it) try to work towards the cabal becoming the Final Shape. Especially since the way that guardians use the Light to keep coming back has always seemed like an act of desperation that the traveler wouldn't have chosen otherwise, because in order to have the constantly flourishing multitude of life the gardener works for, some things have to come and go. Sorry i'm not really sending all this to disagree and argue or anything, i just have a lot of thoughts and feelings about this! And your post made me sort out some of my ideas that were kind of jumbled

Oooh this is such a neat analysis! Lore talk my beloved--

The root for my belief as to "the Traveler did not kill Ghaul" is the core difference between the Gardener and Winnower: the Gardener (Light) gives, the Winnower (Darkness) takes. This dichotomy was shown in Unveiling through the metaphor of the Gardener "[pushing] seeds down into the wet loam of the garden to see what they would become" and the Winnower "[reaping] the day's crop and separated what would flourish from what had failed". [x] The Winnower's main argument against the Gardener is that she gives recklessly:

Your new rule will only make great false cysts of horror full of things that should not exist that cannot withstand existence that will suffer and scream as their rich blisters fill with effluent and rot around them, and when they pop they will blight the whole garden. [x]

I think this is the faith the Gardener has in her creation: she gives, and can only hope the gift will be used for good. As the Winnower said:

That wandering refugee chose to make a stand, spend their power to say: "Here I prove myself right. Here I wager that, given power over physics and the trust of absolute freedom, people will choose to build and protect a gentle kingdom ringed in spears. And not fall to temptation. And not surrender to division. And never yield to the cynicism that says, everyone else is so good that I can afford to be a little evil." [x]

And of course the gift of Light bred both Guardians and Warlords, both Jaren Ward and Dredgen Yor; and I truly believe the Gardener/Traveler had no power over those whom it's chosen to gift with Light. I think if it did, it would have destroyed Yor long before he could kill Jaren, and rooted out all the Warlords before the Iron Lords had a chance to assemble. That's the Winnower's philosophy: eradicating that which has not flourished, the rotten fruit from among the healthy ones, the fallen and corrupted from the rightful and good. "In order to have the constantly flourishing multitude of life the gardener works for, some things have to come and go" - I agree, but I think it was precisely the Winnower's job to do that, separating wheat from chaff and what has flourished from what has withered. The Winnower argues that a world where the Gardener wins will be the world of suffering, because things that are rotten will not be winnowed from among those which are flourishing and good. That's the core difference between giving and taking, and the sorta Ulan-Tan-ish symmetry/balance between Light and Dark. It's a whole other argument what that balance is (and if it truly is symmetry), but generally I think the Winnower and Gardener are slaves to their nature ("Neither the gardener nor I know for certain that we're eternally, universally right. But we can be nothing except what we are. You have a choice." [x]), and so the Gardener--even if she wanted, even if she wept watching her Guardians go rogue and kill and destroy--cannot stop them once she's gifted them with Light. And similarly the Winnower can only winnow and take, even if the bent over backwards not to do that.

(That's also a whole other argument, but I'm pretty sure the worm would eat a Hive which would outright give something to someone: “No,” said Auryx, “you give nothing. Giving is for the Sky. You worship the Deep, which asks that we take what we need.” [x] and I'm pretty sure somewhere in the Books of Sorrow there is a line explaining that the worms' curse is the result of them being a gift to the sisters.)

Again, this is not a roast or anything! I also have so many thoughts about this and I love talking about the Light/Darkness thing in general.

[angstyaches]

This is trope anon from before :) It might be interesting to see Elliot put off feeling sick, because he is so caught up taking care of everyone else? He kind of strikes me as a worry about everyone else first kind of guy lol. Then absolutely regretting it later haha

If not Elliot, Ryan also kind of gives me similar vibes

CW: mention of disordered eating/malnourishment, trauma mention, overwork, nausea, emeto, dizziness, blood mention (he’s a vamp, so yeah), pining (for absent partner), platonic/brotherly caretaking

Author’s note: Elliott and Felix are going to be just FINE! They’re not even broken up; Felix is just a little AWOL after a fight they had. I just loooove me some angst.

Elliott’s vision went pitch black for a moment as he stood and waited for the kettle to finish boiling. His stomach lurched so harshly that he almost turned towards the sink, expecting the return of the blood he’d drank for breakfast. Instead, he swallowed, closed his eyes, and breathed in slowly through his nose. He was overexerted, probably. He’d been pushing himself during his and Shayne’s ritualistic “sparring” (or, as Shayne called it, “trying to kick the shit out of each other” or “therapy”) session. Elliott had hoped his supernatural abilities would have begun to manifest by now, seeing as his transition to full vampire was complete. But still, nothing yet. Maybe the stress of Felix being gone was stunting his development. Maybe the stress was adding to how bad he felt.

The kettle clicked, reminding him of why he was standing in the kitchen in the first place. Elliott’s heart sank as he recalled Shayne’s eyes rolling back in his head, his body almost hitting the ground before Elliott could catch him. Turned out the kid had been starving himself again. Elliott would have punched his lights out if they hadn’t already basically been out.

A minute later, Elliott picked up a hot mug and crossed the open-plan kitchen and living area to where he’d left Shayne on the white sofa. He was conscious now, at least, but his eyes were glazed and unfocused.

The mug contained hot, weak tea and a few spoons of the glucose solution Ryan had concocted for Felix’s blood-and-sugar lollipops. Back in the day, when Felix refused blood and couldn’t hold food down, Ryan had fed him the solution like this, and it had kept him from passing out. The smell was so strong that Elliott almost gagged, his body so delicate as to protest merely being in the presence of human sustenance.

Elliott tried to hand Shayne the mug, but his cousin’s hands were so shaky he almost dropped it immediately. Elliott took it back, trying to ignore the fact that his own hands weren’t exactly the steadiest. He brought the rim of the mug to Shayne’s lips.

Shayne made a face and pulled away as soon as he took the first sip. His hand went to his mouth, like he was considering spitting it back out.

“Swallow it.”

A shiver seemed to roll through Shayne’s body as he did. His eyes watered like he was about to cry. “That tastes like shit, El.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what you get for forgetting that you need to eat.”

“I didn’t forget I needed to…” Shayne mumbled. “I’m not stupid.”

“That’s extremely debatable. Drink.”

“I’m gonna be sick.”

“Drink,” Elliott said again, as calmly as he could, “or I’m going to get Ryan.”

The last of the fight went out of Shayne’s eyes. Elliott knew he didn’t want Ryan or Nancy to know things had gotten this bad again.

Victorious but not feeling it, Elliott brought the mug to Shayne’s lips again and again, letting him take small sips. At one point, he covered his mouth again, shoulders jerking forward as he gagged slightly. Elliott’s stomach flipped at the sound and he had to turn his face away until Shayne stopped. He didn’t usually puke from seeing somebody else do it, but he had a bad feeling that if Shayne threw up, he would lose it too.

Shayne shook his head when presented with the mug again. A tentative hand rested on his stomach. “I can’t, El. It’s so heavy.”

Part of Elliott didn’t want to yield so easily, wanted to make him finish the mug. He wondered what Felix would do, or how Charlie would have reacted to that pleading look. Elliott knew he wasn’t soft in the same way they were. He just hoped he wasn’t harsh.

He hoped he wasn’t frightening.

He swallowed against a swell of nausea in his belly. Whatever was gnawing at the pit of his stomach weakened his resolve.

“Okay,” he said, “lie down.”

Shayne gave a small sigh of relief.

Elliott took the mug back to the sink. White floor and wall tiles swayed all around him like he was inside the world’s most colourless kaleidoscope. He slowly breathed in through his nose, leaning on the edge of the countertop to try and introduce some form of balance to his body.

He’d extended the offer to Shayne, but honestly, lying down sounded like an absolute dream to Elliott, too. Maybe his body would stop freaking out if he got a little more rest. His sleeping pattern was completely thrown off, his mind raced in the middle of the night. Felix had star-fished across about forty different mattresses before choosing theirs, and while Elliott had acted like he didn’t care which one they bought, he had ended up agreeing that it was the best mattress he’d ever used. But sleeping there without Felix felt wrong, so his body had been rejecting it as much as physically possible.

Nowadays, he might as well have been sleeping in a wooden coffin like the stereotype dictated.

He turned around to check on Shayne, frowning when he saw that he was still sitting upright on the sofa.

“I thought you were going to try and sleep?”

“I can’t – I can’t,” Shayne whispered, lowering his head into his hands. “El, I – every time I try, I feel like she’s here. Breathing on the back of my neck…”

Guilt churned Elliott’s stomach this time. Elliott felt regrets like cobwebs sticking to his soul, and although he didn’t allow himself many, one of those cobwebs was the feeling that maybe he could have gotten Shayne out of Madelyn’s sooner.

“She’s not getting in here,” Elliott promised. “Ryan will have her head on a stick before letting that happen. Nancy will turn her blood into tar.”

“She doesn’t have to be here, El. She’s already here.” Shayne pressed a finger to either side of his head and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Jesus, I’m – I’m sorry, man.” Elliott laid a hand on his stomach, stifling a belch since he really didn’t need gas leaving his body to make this moment even more stressful. “What usually helps when this happens?”

As Elliot should have expected, Shayne gave a lifeless shrug. Alright, think, Elliott told himself, swallowing thickly. He’d never seen Shayne warm up to anyone until that day in the park when he’d been clinging to Charlie like his life depended on it. He liked to act tough (and who did he pick that up from, I wonder?), but really, Shayne just didn’t want to be alone.

He’d be lying if he said he couldn’t understand that feeling.

Elliott swallowed again, fighting the lump in his throat and the swirling in the pit of his stomach.

“Want me to sit with you?”

Shayne opened his eyes, looking genuinely surprised.

Elliott sank down on the sofa without waiting for a verbal answer. He hit the cushions a little too quickly for his stomach’s liking. It shifted noisily, semi-digested contents swimming around inside. “Now, if you think you can feel someone breathing on you, you can tell yourself it’s just me.”

“Ugh,” Shayne groaned, curling up on his side so that the top of his head was just next to – scarcely touching – Elliott’s thigh. “Do not breathe on me, man.”

Elliott smiled through his vaguely-concealed discomfort, glad that Shayne wasn’t facing him. “Afraid you’ll catch vampire cooties?”

Shayne didn’t respond beyond a soft groan that Elliott interpreted as “shut the fuck up, old man”. So even though he’d have loved to keep taunting his cousin and keep himself distracted, Elliott shut up, letting his neck rest against the back of the sofa and draping one arm up over his eyes. Lack of vision made the world feel a little less like the spinning drum of a washing machine. Elliott regretted dreaming up that metaphor, gritting his teeth as he realised his stomach felt like such a drum, too.

He was swallowing constantly, every few seconds now, chest tight with the effort of drawing slow, shallow breaths. It felt like the fibres holding his being together were frayed and left just shaky enough to throw everything off without causing him any actual, physical pain. Beneath it all was a tiny flame of anger; what the hell was the point in becoming a vampire if feeling unexplainably shitty at inconvenient intervals was still on the table?

An icy shiver ran down Elliott’s back, and he flinched where he sat. He slid his hand around the back of his neck and gulped another wave of saliva. Nothing was there, yet when he exhaled, he shuddered again. Shayne’s talk about Madelyn must have wormed its way into Elliott’s mind. Lord, he really was a mess.

He glanced down to make sure his sudden jump hadn’t disturbed Shayne. It was hard to tell if the boy was sleeping or just trying very hard to stay still. At least he didn’t seem to be panicked or shaking anymore. Elliott desperately wanted to stand up and walk around; moving and distracting himself would surely ease the building pain in his stomach, but he didn’t think he could get up without jostling Shayne.

Sucking in a breath and trying to brace his stomach for the move, Elliott shifted his weight on the sofa, cringing at how much the cushions flexed with him. He watched Shayne’s head, his breath still caught somewhere between his belly and his lungs. Another trickle of unpleasantly cool sweat ran down the back of his neck and his hands shook until he dropped the weight of his head into them. His elbows felt unbalanced on his knees. His stomach flipped, and he swallowed measuredly against its protests.

“El?”

“Yeah,” Elliott choked out, though he’d meant to give a friendly, open yeah? As in Felix’s chirpy Yeah, buddy? Are you okay? What can I do for you?

“Y’alright?” was all Shayne replied with.

“I’m good, yeah.” Upon tasting blood and bile, Elliott gulped again. “Just relax, okay? No one’s going to –”

Elliott jammed a fist against his lips in time to stifle a wet, shallow belch. The sound was so sudden and violent that his head shot forward, almost ducking between his own knees.

“Fuck,” Shayne gasped, scrambling upright despite the fact his eyes were barely open. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Elliott half-snapped, annoyance at himself manifesting as annoyance at Shayne. “I may have pushed myself a bit this morning, but I’m –”

He was once again cut off by a belch, this one rumbling up from much deeper inside him. His belly continued bubbling even after the air stopped being pushed up.

“El, I think you need to –”

“Don’t.” Elliott shook his head.

“Why did –” Shayne winced slightly and rubbed at his head. “Why didn’t you say you were feeling sick?”

“Because I was trying to look after you!” Elliott sighed into his hands. The tiny burst of frustration was dizzying on top of everything else. “Lord fucking knows you can’t take care of yourself.”

“Fuck you,” Shayne said back, though his voice was empty of any of its usual fight. “I’m – I’m trying, I’ve been trying… Elliott, just go to the sink!”

Elliott’s shoulders rolled as he covered his mouth with his palm, feeling a thick film grow over his tongue. He was tempted to swallow it down again but a cramp ripped through his gut, making all of his organs squeeze in defiance of him swallowing anything.

“Shit,” he somehow mumbled, sitting forward and pushing himself to his feet as Shayne pushed – weakly but with good intentions – at his back to help him up. Elliott sprinted across the kitchen tiles and flung himself at the sink, stars in his vision and blood in his mouth. He was unbearably dizzy as he heaved up what he’d drank that morning. At least it had been an animal-blood day, and he wasn’t watching mouthfuls of human blood pooling in the sink and trickling into the drain.

It was a waste, but it could have been worse. He choked on a sob, realising he’d never thought like this until Felix.

“Fuck,” Elliott gasped when something moved next to him. He hadn’t even noticed Shayne following him to the sink. “Christ. I feel awful… Why – why do I feel this bad?”

“You’re trying to force something you’re not capable of.” Shayne folded his arms and rested them on the countertop, eyes falling shut again.

Elliott spat bitterly towards the drain. “How the fuck do you figure that?”

“Because that’s my whole life summed up, El.”

Elliott gripped the neck of the tap and turned it on, directing the water around the sink to get rid of the mess he’d made. His head was spinning and his nerves still felt alive with electricity and just wrong in general, but his belly felt a lot better. He felt like he could breathe normally again.

“You okay?”

“I think so.” Elliott rinsed his mouth, running tap water into his palm and lifting it to his lips. It was cool, and soothing on his throat after the retching.

Shayne looked positively miserable as their eyes met. “What now?”

As he shut off the tap, Elliott brushed a wet hand across the back of his own neck, relishing the cold drip that started trailing down his back. He shut his eyes, feeling like he was ready to drift off to sleep on his feet, like a horse.

“Well,” he said, “how would you like to take a nap on a really nice mattress?”

[himooonlight]

who are you? pt. 1 (reggie x reader)

pairing: reggie x reader word count: 3k warnings: sad stuff i guess? this is mostly fluff though plot: you dream about reggie constantly and when you see him perfoming with julie, you decide to ask her about him A/N: english is not my first language and this is my first fanfic, so please, be nice ok? hope you like this. oh, and i'm thinking maybe 5 parts? who knows

- I know this is going to sound weird, but do you know any Reginald who likes country music?

The girl in front of me looks at me as if I have just said the biggest nonsense she has ever heard. Her smile fades and she checks around us as if looking for someone who had also heard my question.

Julie is an intriguing girl. She seems very understandable and kind, but I feel like my sanity is in her hands, which makes her figure weigh too much on me. I can't look away from her worried features, feeling bad for making her feel like this. I know she had a terrible year having to deal with her mother's death and all the block to play and sing, but I can't help it.

Not knowing the truth is going to consume me.

- What did you say? - She asks.

Julie and I have never spoken before. I am a year older than her and our school schedules have never crossed, even though I’ve seen her in the halls before. Everyone knows the incredible voice she has, the artistic talent that seems to run through her fingers - it would be impossible not to know about her reputation. What made me talk to her, though, was Reginald.

Reggie.

A boy I thought didn't really exist until three days ago.

- I asked if you know any Reginald who likes country music. - I repeat in a lower tone. - Do you think we can talk?

She doesn't hesitate to agree and soon steps forward to go to the music room. I only know about the existence of that classroom because some of my friends like to go there during lunch hours to sleep a little before afternoon classes. She opens the door, lets me go through, and closes it behind me, making sure we're alone.

We sit in the back of the room, near the windows. The horizontal blinds are open and the weather looks happy. The sun shines brightly and there are no clouds to tell the story of the crazy girl who has been dreaming of someone unreal for months and had fallen in love with a non-existent being.

It's funny how the figurative tranquility makes me uneasy. The day seems peaceful, serene while chaos is established inside of me. The blue, maroon and white paintings on the wall seem to make fun of my nervousness; the delicate yet majestic instruments seem to want me to leave considering that my madness is too much for anyone to bear.

Julie looks at me not knowing that she is my hope and that also makes me anxious. Possibly even more apprehensive than comparing my problems with the calmness of the place around me.

- I'm not sure where to start or if you're going to believe me, but I need you to listen carefully. If it doesn't make sense to you, if you don't know what I'm talking about, please just ignore it, ok?

Julie nods and moves her chair closer to mine. Her eyes look worried and I can see that she is an ordinary person. As much as many people have put her on a pedestal, she looks normal and comprehensive at close range. She doesn't look like someone who would be evil and bitter of her own accord and it's comforting to know that even if she can't help me, maybe she can understand my torments in some way.

I let the air enter my lungs, my shoulders going up and down slightly. She doesn't pressure me to speak even though I can interpret by her fingers tapping on her leg that she wants me to say something soon.

Without thinking too much about word choices, I open my heart to her because some things need to be shared.

Even when it's not easy to start.

- A few months ago I started having dreams with Reggie. He looks just like the guy you sing in that band with, the bass player. A friend of mine showed me a video of you a few days ago and I know it's him, it can only be him. - Without thinking too much, my hands reach for hers, as if begging her to believe me. Julie doesn't back down or make a move to start laughing and that encourages me to continue, with as many details as possible. - Do you know who he is? My friend said they are holograms, but probably it's inspired by some real person, right?

My speech starts to get tangled up and Julie continues with the same expression as when we arrived, just listening to what I have to say. I feel pathetic because I seem to be performing a show for something that in the eyes of others may be irrelevant. I wish I could explain to her that I am usually a very rational person. I like reasonable explanations, the feeling of being in control of where I am going, of having a detailed plan on how to achieve my goals. In general I know that unforeseen events can happen, but the relief that organization and rationality bring me is too comforting and important for me to be able to accept Reggie in my life under normal circumstances.

However, he quickly became someone important to me and it's scary how just the thought of him can make me feel nice and peaceful.

Reggie brought me peace of the kind that you often seek while sleeping or resting. Peace of the kind that we look for when looking at the sky, at flowers, at children playing in a park happily. He, someone I didn't know, offered me happiness by just appearing in my dreams, smiling at my sleeping version. It was something about his adorable smile, his small teeth, his upturned nose and expressive eyebrows. It was something about the way he made me laugh, how he had genuine intentions about everything, how his beautiful eyes lit up when he talked about something he liked.

- I don't know anything about creating holograms, sorry. - Julie answers, smiling weakly and clearing her throat. She looks uncomfortable, so I let go of her hand. - But if I find anything about it, I'll let you know.

- Julie, you really don't know anything about him? He loves pizza, has a very peculiar sense of humor and likes children and animals. He likes it very much. He is not very close to his family, but he regards his two best friends as if they were brothers. He is kind, understanding and real. I guess truthful is a better choice of words, cause I don't know if he really exists.

I know she can see my distress from the way I'm letting the words flow, but I can't help it. Reggie not only brings me peace but also a feeling of belonging that seems to go beyond the moment.

It's not like I'm getting to know him, it's like I'm recognizing him.

- Look, are you sure you are not confusing him with someone else?

Julie herself doesn't seem to believe or agree with her question. I'm being too specific and I know it. I know this because Reggie asked for my help on Thursday night's dream, saying that he didn't know if he could make it. I know this because he told me the name of his band. I know this because he said he didn't recognize me, but that he felt the same way about me, about us.

- Julie, I know about Sunset Curve. I looked them up and I know they died 25 years ago. - I answer, looking at my own feet. I don't want her to think I'm a threat and that I'm going to expose her secret. I just want answers, I just want a chance to understand my connection with Reggie. - I just want to know if you know Reggie. If there is anyone I can ask why he appears in my dreams, why I…

I can't complete it out loud, but mentally I say "fell in love with him".

I know why I fell in love with him, to be honest.

Reggie is physically familiar. More than that, it's like meeting someone special who means a lot to me. He's someone whose beauty comes from his smile. The kind of person who is always trying to see the positive in things. Who never believes that he has actually lost anything or that he is in the wrong place. He's the type to believe that every thing he dropped on the floor and didn't see, every umbrella forgotten somewhere, every delay unintentionally; everything means something. An arrangement so that he could be in the place he is in right now and that this place could not be a mistake. He's the type who doesn't bother with something that broke, with something unexpected, with something he isn't planning because he is convinced that maybe he broke a plate today so he could go to the market and find money on the floor or just feel how pleasant the day is. That maybe he was late because the bus he was going to take was going to break down halfway. He is the type who thinks that regardless of the situation, he is in the right place, where he should be.

Reggie has an engaging aura, as much as I couldn't even explain what exactly it means. He is affectionate, funny and I don't think I could ever create him.

- Why you…? - She insists.

- Why I feel this way about him.

Julie seems to think about what I said and I choose not to press her. I pay attention to the room, on how the sun comes through the window and makes me think of the day I met Reggie.

My first dream with him was at a book club. It was a friendly place that I had never visited before; a two-story white house with a big backyard. The meeting took place outside and the residence looked like it was turned into a cultural center. About five people had books in their hands and were talking excitedly about the story, going on about the metaphors the author had used to explain the parents' suffering when they lost their child. Near the boundaries of the place, three boys who seemed out of place were talking quietly. At their feet, boxes of instruments looked like misunderstood foreigners while snacks and sweets on the table near them were very much welcomed. The blond boy next to Reggie was talking to another boy about something I couldn't hear and Reggie seemed to shine.

It was late afternoon and the sun was passing through the trees in the yard. The white fence he leaned against contrasted with the black clothes he wore, while the darkness of the fabric contradicted with the gentleness of his face. He had caught my attention the minute my eyes met his.

Without saying anything, Reggie came towards me, making me nervous. In the dream, however, I was a man. As much as I was living and seeing everything from my point of view, my body was masculine and taller. My hands were calloused for some reason that I did not know and my clothes were extremely large, almost sloppy.

- Hi. - Reggie said, smiling as if he knew me. His eyes were shining and I was sure mine were too. - Do you have a name or can I call you mine?

We were not too far away from his friends for them not to hear us. Soon they started laughing out loud, embarrassed by the pick up line. I couldn't help but laugh, even though in some part of my brain I knew that maybe if the situation was rationalized, I would find it weird. However, I felt the same way about him. The desire to meet him, to know his preferences, to feel what his hand would be like in mine.

- Maybe I went too far with that one. - He said, giving me no chance to answer. - I think I have the right to remain silent.

- Reggie, you have the right to remain silent. What you lack is capacity. - The blonde said, making the other friend laugh even louder. Some man behind us asked us to speak quietly and right then the sun stopped touching the man in front of me. It seemed that we finally understood that moment; seemed that the universe made sense.

Reginald was speechless, just like me. We looked at each other for a while, admiring each other's details. Because of that exact moment I would know how to point the timid freckles on your nose even with my eyes shut or on the way his eyes seemed to have at least four different shades of blue and green. At that moment I fell in love with his skin, his dimples, how well his hair was combed and how he smelled of jasmine.

- Hey. - I replied to him, holding out my hand. He looked into my eyes, then my lips and then took my hand in his. Time seemed to stop around us. - I guess you do have a name, Reggie, but can I call you mine?

Julie touches my arm, pulling me out of my memories.

- I don't know if I would have answers for you. - She says. - I'm sorry.

Julie gets up and goes to the door. I can't ignore the fact that my throat is dry and my hands are shaking slightly in anticipation of any more response that she wants to give me. Anything, any explanation that might justify how I feel about Reggie.

She suddenly stops and turns to me with wide eyes.

- You can't see, right? - She asks.

I don't know what she's talking about, so I just shake my head.

- Where's Reggie? - She talks again.

When I open my mouth to say that I don't know, he appears near the piano. His eyes are more intense than in my dreams and he does not smell of jasmine, but it's still him.

My Reggie.

I get up quickly and almost trip over the chair, making Julie look at me with even wider eyes. I look from her to him, repeating the process a few times.

He wasn't there a few seconds ago.

He appeared in the middle of nowhere.

Him.

He exists.

- What's going on here? - He asks Julie, but his body is turned towards me. I look him straight in the eye and walk slowly because I'm afraid this is a dream and I want to spend more time looking at him like that. - Julie, why does it look like she sees me?

- I see you, Reggie. - I speak softly, not diverting my attention from him. - You exist.

He opens his mouth a few times, not understanding what is happening and I feel the same thing that I felt in that book club.

Feels like I'm coming home, that I love him, that everything makes sense. I feel that there is too much of him in my heart.

- Can you see me? - He asks, walking slowly towards me. It seems the same distance from my first dream; the same strong feeling of belonging, of finding something that I had already given up looking for. - Do you really see me?

- I see you, I can really see you.

My vision starts to blur and I hear Julie talking in the background, but I can only look at him and ask myself if he knows who I am, if he feels the same. When a tear falls from my eyes, Reggie walks faster, ending our distance and extending his hand to touch my face. When I feel a shy and almost unnoticed contact, I close my eyes and throw myself into his arms, but I can't find his body.

Confused, I open my eyes again.

He's not there.

He disappeared in the middle of nowhere.

Him.

He does not exist.

- It's just a dream, isn't it? Is this my farewell to him? Will I never see him again in my dreams? - I ask Julie. I touch the piano that seemed so close to Reggie before and let my fingers roam the black top of the instrument. I just wish I could feel him the same way. - I could have swore that this is real, but I think I love Reggie so much that he made me like being asleep more than being awake. It is terrible to love him in my dreams and not have him when I wake up in the morning.

- You love me?

I hear his voice behind me and when I turn, he's there.

- Who are you? - I ask, like an idiot. I know who he is, but I need to understand a few things before I completely freak out.

Julie walks over to me and touches my wrist. She seems to be asking me not to scream or pass out. Something in Reggie's eyes is apologizing silently and I'm afraid of his answer.

- I'm Reggie. - He smiles weakly and it hurts me because it's a sad smile. - And I think you're my unfinished business.

[zekidork]

I wanted to write about that I think vampires have two types of hunger/thirst physical and emotional. What do you think about this?

Ooooh, I’ve been thinking about the vampire’s relationship with blood recently. There’s so much to unpack in general when it comes to a vampire’s thirst, but I think I’ll try to stick to a few points. 

I most definitely agree that there is an emotional component to thirst in a vampire’s desire for blood.  These signs are all over the place (and I’ll get into them in just a sec), but when it comes to a physical thirst, I’m not so sure about that. So let’s start with the physical one first, since I’m more in disagreement with you here. 

I don’t believe there’s a physical aspect to a vampire’s thirst/hunger; then again, I would like to maybe know what you mean by physical hunger/thirst. From what I understand of the term, it seems like you’re referring to a thirst/hunger that would need to satisfy the physical needs of a vampire. If that’s what you’re referring to, then I disagree. One of the main reasons, which was recently brought up by the perceptive Taro in ch.30, is that vampires also eat food just like humans. Blood does not replace food for vampires, they still need to eat normal foods (while I’m sure starvation won’t kill them). This means that blood isn’t a necessity in biological terms, but more of an emotional need. 

Even when blood is referred to as food by vampires, I still don’t believe that it’s in the same sense as it would mean to be hungry for breakfast, for example. It’s rather more like when someone who’s addicted to sugar says “I’m craving some chocolate bars”, which is technically food, but you don’t need chocolate bars to survive. Okay, so while blood is a substance and can be referred to as ‘food’, it isn’t necessarily food like what meat and vegetables would be (which contain important vitamins and other important nutritional factors to help keep the body healthy). Another reason why I don’t think the hunger for blood is a physical one is with how young vampires act towards blood. Vampire children don’t have strong enough fangs in order to bite a person, so they simply suck on an individual’s “life energy”. If it were a physical hunger, than even vampire children would need blood to survive (their cravings wouldn’t start during puberty). 

There’s a lot more evidence showing that a vampire’s hunger for blood is on the emotional side. It’s funny because I’ve been thinking about making a post to analyze what blood means to vampires and just how much it symbolizes in the story (there’s literally so much to unpack), but I’ll try to stick to the point. Anyways, I’ll name a few aspects that appear often in the manga to prove my point. 

“Only the blood of the vampire’s true love can satisfy their thirst”. This aspect was brought up a little later in the manga, but it was technically always there. The feelings of ‘love’ and a vampire’s thirst for blood are clearly intertwined, which only happens if the desire for blood is correlated to emotions. If vampires are only satisfied with the blood of the one they love, than that means that their emotions play a key role into how they desire for blood. For example, Yuuki throughout volumes 11 to 19 was going through a lot of issues when it came to who’s blood she desired, since she said that she’s “still attached to Zero”, which meant that her thirst couldn’t be entirely quenched. This sort of thing could only happen if emotions were related to the desire for blood.

“Think of blood as a drug”. I know this might sound crazy, but in some ways, blood and the desire for blood are heavy metaphors for drug addiction. It’s as though vampires are born drug-addicts as their nature, but they still need to eat and drink water and do all the other human things. One of the main things that shows how blood can be seen as a drug is how certain vampire classes react to it: the purebloods and aristocrats are able to handle their thirst, since they are born with the desire to drink blood, they grew up and were raised to handle it. However, the level E’s weren’t born that way, so they don’t know how to handle this obsessive desire. That’s why they act like maniacs; they lost their sanity because they were consumed by the emotional compulsion to desire blood, to the point where it hurts them physically. 

Funny story, when I was younger, I actually confused level E vampires with monsters because that’s how much they seemed insane to me. Then I later found out that they are quite conscious of their actions and are capable of conversation (as seen with Zero’s bizarre habit of sometimes talking to his prey before killing them). This actually makes the level E’s seem darker, since it’s essentially like they cant help it (that’s why even Kaname was impressed of Zero’s sanity in the initial parts of the manga, because it’s almost impossible to go against the voice in a level E’s head that’s screaming to attack anyone on sight). 

Addiction has nothing to do with physical needs and everything to do with emotional needs. When someone is addicted to something, it’s usually related to their psychological behavior. And while purebloods and aristocrats don’t act like lunatics towards blood, they still crave it. Basically all vampires are inclined to desire blood, but some can’t handle it while others can:

Purebloods, Aristocrats and level C: Blood to them is seen as candy. It’s tasty and they have a “sweet-tooth” for it. *Think of how Hanabusa was metaphorically going shopping for blood types when he was asking the Day class students “what’s your blood type?” during St. Xocolatl’s day. It’s as though he was at a store looking at different candy bars and was choosing which one to eat.*

Level D vampires: As long as they have a master, they too would most likely look at blood like some sort of candy. But maybe it might be seen as something a little more important or addictive, since I’m guessing they’re addicted to their master’s blood.

Level E vampires: Blood is a literal drug to them (like alcohol, cigarettes, caffeine, you name it). They feel like they need it, and they constantly need it since their is no satisfying their thirst. It goes to the point where they kidnap people and commit crimes just so that they can satisfy their thirst (and even there it’s not enough). 

While each vampire class have their levels of intensity of desire towards blood, it still comes back to the point that they all emotionally/psychologically desire blood to the point where their body physically reacts to not having some (like withdrawals). Paleness of the skin is an example of one of the physical symptoms of this.

I really could go on and on, but I’m afraid that’s enough of my disorganized thoughts. So yeah, I personally believe that a vampire’s hunger comes down to the emotional/psychological needs/desires of a vampire, which in turn affect the physical aspect of their lives. But there isn’t an actual physical need for blood, from my understanding. Once again though, I’m really curious as to what you mean by “physical hunger”, I would love to hear your thoughts (if you don’t mind). And if you are going to write a post on the subject, I can’t wait to read it!

Thanks again for your ask!

[passmeabook]

Servamp Tarot Analysis: Kamiya Tsurugi

I’ve decided to do an analysis of the tarot cards in Servamp. Many of the meanings are taken straight from the books they were found in because I feel they explain the meaning of the trumps better than my own words could. I’m looking not only at the official tarot cards assigned to characters, but also headcanon unofficial cards that may have been quietly assigned by the author.

First up is Kamiya Tsurugi. The official card assigned to him in canon is The Hanged Man. In this analysis I will also share headcanons of how he has been unofficially assigned the cards of: Justice and Death.

The Hanged Man #12

Number: XII

Alternative Name: The Traitor

Numerology Link: III, The Empress

Astrological Sign: Neptune

Element: Water

Hebrew Letter: Mem

Symbol: Water and the Oceans

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

The Hanged Man XII

The Hanged Man Key Meanings:

Transition

Waiting

Sacrifice

Enlightenment

Upright Meaning:

“Events are not moving with speed, but all you can do is wait patiently in the knowledge that the universe has its own plan. The card can also indicate that you may have made sacrifices just now and are eager to see rewards. Unfortunately, you cannot force an outcome that fits with your timetable. There are many other factors about which you can have no knowledge or influence. Therefore, you may also expect delays to travel plans and projects… On a creative level this card appears frequently when a person is feeling frustration with their progress… Another message from the Hanged Man is to try to see things from a new angle.” (Dean).

“In readings the Hanged Man bears the message of independence. Like the Fool, which signified doing what you sensed was best, even if other people thought it foolish, the Hanged Man indicates being who you are, even if others think you have everything backwards. It symbolizes the feeling of being deeply connected to life and can mean a peace that comes after some difficult trial.” (Pollack.).

Feeling trapped

Confined

Self-limiting

Uncertainty

Lack of Direction

Needing Release

Letting Go

Reversed Meaning:

“The Hanged Man reversed can be a sign of rigid thinking and martyrdom. You may need to revise your expectations; what you think you want may not be possible. In this position, the card asks you if you are hanging on to a fantasy that may make you a victim rather than a victor. Take another view and liberate yourself from a contract or other obligation that cannot offer you what you want.” (Dean).

“The trump reversed indicates an inability to get free of social pressure. Rather than listen to our inner selves we do what others expect or demand of us. Our awareness of life always remains second-hand, never a direct experience but only a series of stereotypes, like the person who models his or her behavior on the orders of parents and the actions of movie stars. The card reversed can also mean fighting your inner self in some way. It can mean the person who tries to deny some basic part of himself or simply the person who cannot accept reality and who in some way or other is constantly battling life.” (Pollack.).

Discontentment

Apathy

Disinterest

Stagnation

Impulsiveness

Negative Patterns

Detachment

The Hanged Man understands that his position is a sacrifice he needed to make in order to progress forward. The time he spends dangling from the tree will not be wasted on his journey. The hanging is not death, but life in stillness. It could be a repentance for past wrongdoings or even a calculated step back to rethink the path he will take once he continues on with his journey. If an approach isn’t working then look at things from a different angle to gain a new perspective. This card is one that tells its reader that waiting and suspension are sometimes what you need to do in order to achieve success. Sometimes action is not needed, and one needs to wait patiently for the proper opportunity.

The Message of the Hanged Man:

Use your time wisely.

The Hanged Man & Numerology:

“TAROT SYMBOLISM: Key 12 The Hanged Man. The keyword for the Hanged Man is reversal. The corresponding symbol means oasis, sea, or water. According to the alchemists, water was the basis of all life, the fluid substance that solidified into physical forms… Water was the first mirror in which the reflection always appears upside down. The significance of this card is that things are not as they appear on the surface. You must look beneath the surface for true understanding. The man is suspended by his foot, like a pendulum at rest. His crossed legs form a figure 4, indicative of key 4 Reason. His elbows and head form a triangle with the point down which is an ancient symbol for water. The Hanged Man represents a person who is poised in consciousness and under perfect control… He sees trouble in the world--people unhappy in marriage, in trouble financially and lost because they have no goals--and he knows it is because they all see things upside down. Yet they look at him and think that he is the one who is crazy. The Hanged Man’s philosophy sets him apart from the crowd and, at the same time, brings him peace of mind and perfect contentment.” (Javane and Bunker.) [Emphasis mine.]

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Looking at these meanings and ideas I find that Tsurugi very strongly if not perfectly embodies the Hanged Man.

I speculate that for a majority of the C3 arc Tsurugi is in the position of the reversed Hanged Man. The lines that really stood out to me while researching this were, “Rather than listen to our inner selves we do what others expect or demand of us.” and “In this position, the card asks you if you are hanging on to a fantasy that may make you a victim rather than a victor.” because they seem to fit Tsurugi so well. Tsurugi clings to Touma and the idea of family he idealized Touma as being. Tsurugi also does what others expect of him, and before his breaking away from Touma just did what others wanted him to do. Even in the TAROT SYMBOLISM section that I highlighted the line about things not appearing as they seem on the surface resonated with me about Tsurugi because despite Tsurugi’s smiles on the surface inwardly he has a lot of trauma.

The symbolism the Hanged Man has with the connections to water, the oceans, and the planet Neptune also tie into together with Tsurugi. Water as an element is related to the Cups suit. Cups/Water has the meaning of “I feel”; the suit focuses on emotions and relationships. The planet Neptune, the Roman name for Poseidon the Greek god of the seas, holds the symbolic meanings of: dreams, intuition, and imagination. Which negatively connects to Tsurugi and his inability to metaphorically grow up, dreams and imagination being viewed as childish, but also to his magic Neverland. In the series we’ve seen Tsurugi be visually connected to water rather directly. Both in his drowning before being saved by The Mother/Freya in Ch. 56 “A Windowless Room”/Ch. 57 “Born” and also in the bonus chapter Ch. 57.5 “The Person Searching for the Key” where Tsurugi is underwater behind his locked door. Tsurugi is also an incredibly emotional person, and has worked on coming to terms with his emotions and what he really feels instead of just doing as other people tell him too.

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Tsurugi’s/The Hanged Man’s Dilemma:

A great showing of Tsurugi and his dilemma of choosing between the upright and the reversed meaning of The Hanged Man is in Ch. 52 where Tsurugi is caught between Touma and Junichiro in making his decision to follow Touma’s orders or to heed to Junichiro’s words.

In Ch. 52 we have the scene where Junichirou and Touma are asking Tsurugi to come to a decision. Tsurugi is physically in the position of the Hanged Man, but he’s divided down the middle into a black side and a white side. On the black side where Touma asks him, “Are you going to ignore what I say again?” Tsurugi’s hair follows the course of gravity as if he were standing up, his long length of ribbon does as well, and his hood lays flat against his shoulder. Compare this to the white side, Junichiro’s side: the background is white and Tsurugi’s hair, hood, and ribbon follow the path of gravity that they naturally would if Tsurugi were hanging upside down. This choosing of Touma, and of the reversed meaning of the Hanged Man, allows readers to see that Tsurugi is not following the upright meaning of the Hanged Man, and that his trump has yet to be flipped to the upright position.

In the side by side comparison Tsurugi’s collar is black on Junichiro’s side and white on Touma’s, but when Tsurugi chooses Touma the collar is black. The collar represents both control and Tsurugi allowing others to make decisions for him. The removal of the collar in Ch. 74 represents Tsurugi taking control of his personal agency and decision making.

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Headcanon Tarot Analysis:

Tsurugi is directly portrayed as the Hanged Man in Ch. 50 “The Hanged Man”. The closest version visually of the Hanged Man as it is as a trump card is on the cover page of the chapter. Then we have another section in this chapter later on which portrays Tsurugi as both hero and criminal. Right before this Mahiru has just asked Tsurugi if he has been fighting to protect people all this time. Tsurugi denies this and instead tells Mahiru that to humans he is viewed as a hero, but to vampires he is viewed as a genocider.

What is fascinating is that visually he’s portrayed as physically being in the position of the hanged man, only as both lauded hero and condemned criminal. As the hero of humanity he’s in a upright Hanged Man position. As the criminal he is in a reversed Hanged Man position with a noose. Looking at the two side comparisons I feel that they both represent #11 Justice & #13 Death more so than the Hanged Man, “In the major arcana sequence, the Hanged Man falls after XI, Justice, and before XIII, Death. We had our values on trial in Justice, and now we must hold on until Death, when we can figuratively let go. Death brings transformation, while the Hanged Man prepares to make the sacrifice Death needs so he can move on.” (Dean)

Justice XI

Justice Key Meanings:

Fairness

Balance

Perception

Objectivity

With Tsurugi wearing a cape and a sword I feel it represents a reversed #11 Justice. Tsurugi’s hero is in the upright position for the Hanged Man, but in the reversed position for Justice. Trump XI portrays the personification of upright Justice on a throne with scales and a sword. Important to see is that the Justice trump is not blindfolded, her vision is clear. The scales held in her left hand represent favoring the deserving with the scales of mercy, and the upright sword in her right hand represents seeking retribution for past wrongs with the sword of retribution. The scales also symbolize the thought process put into making a judgement, and weighing both sides of a story. The sword symbolizes the action that results from judgement. The sword, when it is held upright, symbolizes success.

Tsurugi as a reversed Justice fits in many ways. Tsurugi, as an instrument for furthering Touma’s and C3’s plans, is furthering the goals of those that use him via corrupt justice. Vampires are captured we've seen, but are they given legal trials and do they have protected rights? From what we’ve seen of C3 I highly doubt it. Hence why he is in the position of reversed Justice. Tsurugi has often been connected to a sword, and his name can even mean “sword”, look at the sword of hero-Tsurugi. It is covered in blood, but Tsurugi’s arms are held behind his back. The blood on the sword is not boldly in your face, and is even a bit hidden behind Tsurugi and a speech bubble. Tsurugi does not hold the sword in his hand showing that he himself does not actively choose to to make any decisions with the sword, and instead I feel it represents Tsurugi's passivity and his following what others want and will of him. Later on we also see that when Touma manipulates Tsurugi with his spell power Tsurugi becomes blindfolded, and this is perhaps a symbolism of justice being both blind (traditionally) and blinded (corruption hiding the truth).

#11 Justice Reversed

“Reversed, the card indicates dishonesty with yourself and others. It shows an unwillingness to see the meaning of events and shows especially that you are missing some opportunity for a greater understanding of yourself and your life. In outer life it indicates dishonesty and unfair actions or decisions. Sometimes it is others who are unfair to us. The reversed meaning can refer also to unjust legal decisions or to bad treatment from someone. On the other hand we must not allow the suggestion of unfairness to act as an excuse for denying our own responsibility for what happens to us… ‘Nothing can save you but yourself.’” (Pollack.).

“Life goes out of balance as work, relationships, and money issues spiral out of control. A decision may go against you, so there may be dishonesty or a miscarriage of justice. You are treated unfairly, which is compounded by bad advice from a trusted individual. You are not able to speak your truth and feel overruled by those who don’t understand your predicament. It is important to find your voice and stay strong to your values- if you are in the right.” (Dean).

Death XIII

Death Key Meanings:

Decline

Rebirth

Transformations

Change

As the condemned criminal Tsurugi is in the reversed position of the Hanged Man, but he’s also in the upright position for Death. With Tsurugi wearing traditional black and white striped prisoner clothing and have a noose around his neck I feel this gives weight to the idea of connecting him to #13 Death. Tsurugi in this side comparison is on a scaffold. He wears the clothes of a criminal and he seems to be a minute away from hanging. Yet, the noose around his neck is loose. As the Hanged Man trump has told us, the Hanged Man is not going to die. Instead he is merely hanging around waiting. The trump card Death arrives after the Hanged Man as death follows a hanging. Only in the case of the Hanged Man this is a spiritual death and rebirth after a time of contemplation. The black and white colors Tsurugi wears are associated with Death in the thirteen trump. In the trump Death wears black armor and sits astride a white horse while holding a black and white flag in his left hand. The thirteen trump is associated with change, an extreme change in your life to be exact. When I read this page I see Tsurugi’s Reversed Justice representing who he is right now, and that his Upright Death represents that he needs to and will undergo a great change. Especially since the manga is written in Japanese and we read the pages from right to left.

#13 Death Upright

“In diviniatory readings Death signifies a time of change. Often, it indicates a fear of change. In its most positive aspect it shows a clearing away of old habits and rigidness to allow a new life to emerge. In its most negative aspect it indicates a crippling fear of physical death.” (Pollack.).

“Death brings ending and beginnings-sometimes all at once. This is a time of fast and deep transformation and an opportunity to let go of whatever you no longer need. Unlike card XX, Judgement, which signals a process of self-examination, Death’s impact is sudden and may be shocking. You have little control over external events when Death looms, but in time you will be able to see this sharp change in circumstances as a blessing. A break with the past-from relationships and friendships to work that is no longer satisfying-is the only way forward. In this sense, Death can be a release and a relief. Death, after all, is the ultimate reality check, and he leaves you with the bare bones, the truth.” (Dean).

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These are the views I have on Tsurugi and his tarot cards. I also thought about him perhaps having reference to the Ace of Swords, him being C3′s Ace and his name relating to a sword, but just decided to focus on the major arcana for now. Maybe I’ll do another post about that at a later date. I had fun writing this. I hope to make more posts like this in the future, but if I do they will likely be very, very sporadic.

References:

Dean, Liz. The Ultimate Guide to Tarot: A Beginner's Guide to the Cards, Spreads, and Revealing the Mystery of the Tarot. Fair Winds Press, 2015.

Javane, Faith, and Dusty Bunker. Numerology and the Divine Triangle. Whitford Press, 1997.

Pollack, Rachel. Seventy Eight Degrees of Wisdom A Book of Tarot Part 1: The Major Arcana. Aquarian Press, 1980.