#Well consider it. Try holding space for nuance. Try not being certain about something. Try letting God handle something. Try loving people

[moltengoldveins]

the world, the Bible, every decent Christian I’ve ever spoken to: you know that being a Christian isn’t about rules and is in fact about a relationship with God, right?

me (autistic) (very young): yes! Quick question, how do I do that?

my parents, whom im beginning to realize might have been Mistaken about some things: well obviously you read the Bible and memorize all the rules in it, and if you think something might be right or wrong you check against the rules in the Bible!

me, (again, autistic): ok! Those are definitely different things and not the same thing in a different hat!

Me, recently, (I must stress, so so so autistic) watching the ‘rule’ that you will know someone’s relationship with Christ by the fruits of the spirit and the ‘rule’ that being gay or supporting gay people is morally wrong and you cannot maintain a relationship with God while living in sin like that smash into one another in real time as every actually decent Christian I’ve seen in the past six months has been either Gay or supportive of the LGBTQ: …… oh shit have I been being homophobic and weirdly rules-lawyery the whole time. How the fuck did that happen? Where did the idea that ‘a relationship with God’ equals ‘knowing all the rules and checking everything against them?’ come from?

my parents in actual recent conversation: you cannot trust your understanding of God or your mind to adequately reach out to Him! You cannot trust your relationship with Him to be enough! To be on the safe side you should focus on what you can fully know (the Bible)! This totally isn’t self-contradictory considering you have to rely on your mind to interpret the Bible also!!

me, (very near an autistic meltdown): oh so. Oh so I’ve been faith-by-works-ing my way through this. I saw ‘we cannot fully rely on our own power to know what God wants’ and instead of going ‘so I should Ask Him’ I went ‘so I shouldn’t even try to ask and should instead follow a bunch of mostly made up rules.’ Great. Love that for me. I gotta change that now I fucking guess. Can I at least get a solid answer on whether wanting to marry someone of the same gender is chill or not, because I’m fighting fucking battles right now between my conservative family and my liberal friends and I want to not keep having to say “I guess I’m just not sure” every time someone gives a half-decent argument either way.

God, giving a shockingly clear and immediate answer: Girl you are single and entirely unready for a relationship. Also you’re ace. Also we just spent all this time on how you’re struggling because you’re terrified of trusting me with telling you whether something is wrong or not because you don’t believe I’ll tell you when you need to know. You don’t need to know right now. You’re working through this mental hypothetical because you’re anxious and untrusting. You are completely and painfully single. Having some all-powerful sign that confirmed for all time that this was right or wrong would do absolutely nothing for you right now. It’d change nothing about how you treat gay people - you treat them well anyway. The only thing it would do would make you feel (falsely) like you wouldn’t need to rely on me anymore. Literally why would I do that.

me: …….. well shit, ok then. That. Ok. Turns out Just Asking Him without checking the rules first… works. Ok. Ok ok ok. Very chill very cool very chill very cool.

[liftingtheirspirits]

I definitely wasn’t expecting how insightful this would be for me.

I sometimes play youtube or podcasts in the background while I work because a large amount of my work is spreadsheets. An episode came on that was an interview with a therapist who’d designed their own approach of psychotherapy. I’d never really considered the idea that there are novel, modern approaches to therapy - I know in the field of science we’re always evolving, but I wasn’t expecting there to be relatively NEW kinds of therapy.

Anyways I listen to this podcast and it started with explaining the approach and the nuances and why it essentially bypasses a lot of the issues that come about with different approaches etc. and essentially there’s this overarching idea that we’re not simply one being, and that we have parts of us inside, and those parts come out and speak their piece depending on the environment and in some cases, what triggers them, and that’s why we can act completely different in certain situations and then later (if you’re like me) you spend hours trying to understand what made you handle that situation so bad, or so well?

At this point I’m sort of mostly paying attention. But we get to about half way and he starts talking about some of the REALLY dark parts - and it’s pretty uncomfortable and he goes into this idea that there can be racist parts, shame parts, and sometimes the loudest parts are the ones we’ve “exiled” - parts of ourselves that we had to mute or suppress based on the environment that we’re in.

And just when I thought it was interesting, the therapist takes the host on a therapeutic journey, LIVE, in the podcast. It’s absolutely nuts and THEN after the host has this experience, he asks the therapist if they’d be willing to try therapy with the listener as kind of a guided introspection.

It. Was. Incredible.

This was maybe 6 months ago and I’m still and steadily unraveling some of the things I’ve learned about me and their implications on my relationships and my most broken parts.

If you haven’t heard of “internal family systems” and you’re like me and never really cared for the idea of formal therapy, or you’re scared to work with a real person or you have problems being vulnerable in front of literal strangers (which is kinda the thing that stopped me in the past), you should totally look into “Internal Family Systems”.

It made such an enormous impact on me and the way that I think and hold space for myself when I react in a way that I feel like doesn’t make sense. I know this is probably a weird thing to put out here on tumblr but genuinely if I can help even one person understand themselves or their pain just a little better I’ll feel like I did something helpful.

OH and the therapist is Dr. Richard Schwartz and if you’re a book nerd like me he actually wrote all about it too; I’m about halfway through it now - “YOU are the one you’ve been waiting for”.

💜

[dors-ee]

I know I maybe over reacted a little bit to that anti arcane critical post but I am so fed up with the general anti intellectualism and anti critical thing. This trying to silence people that speak up, the mocking and belittling and ad hominem I see everywhere, being grouped in with harrassers or such, etc. And just... yeah. This environment that is fostered, of people not just saying "I do not want criticisms for myself so I will stay away and be responsible for my own experience on the internet" but actually trying to silence others, to police them, say criticism is a bad thing or do bad faith takes, not answering what the criticisms say themseleves but going on against the people being critical themseleves, like the one I saw and responded to. Like I don't know.

I get not everyone is up for actual discussions dismantling arguments. But then... ignore? I know it's no fun, I know it can cause negative unpleasant emotions. But like it's maybe better than going on to attack the people themseleves?

I don't know if it counts as ad hominem, to go on and try to dismantle the others argument not by going for the arguments but by saying "you misinterpreted and projected you are wrong". It isn't technically a personal attack but... it still kind of is? It does touch upon the others perception and ability to reason and think so...?

and like... whilst I get being annoyed at blatant actual mischaracterization or misinterpretation or lack of media literacy... I don't know. I block and ignore if I am not up to discuss things. Or if I try and it doesn't work then I block. And eventually, I go on to make posts about what I would consider is a better reading of things. And maybe, maybe I will throw an exasperated "oh seriously pple's reading comprehension these days is so bad" (in private usually, but that's personal.). But that's it. I will then calm down and nuance things. Think of maybe how I can help those people if I feel up to it/have the energy/time. Maybe I can also just do my own posts. Idk. Something useful. If I can't, I just block and ignore.

I do not mock or insult the people that do not possess certain skills, and wrote things that annoyed me a little bc they might have lacked in certain skills or been a bit ignorant or too subjective/biased.

Analysis, of media, recognizing biases and trying to adress or correct them, being more objective, etc. are skills. Ones that are learned and practiced. Not everyone has them, or is good at them. We should encourage the practice of them, and try to help people develop them (if they want. If they don't well block them, idk.). And that helping does not necessarily mean engaging, no no. We are all burnt out and overwhelmed by all we have to do irl already for our world and society.

But just holding space is already that. Even if this space is away from me bc I blocked. I still let them be. Better someone that spoke up, even if wrong, than someone that stayed silent.

The people that complain at least tried. They tried to be critical. They tried to use that skill, interrogate what they consumed.

And i will always support that.

Nothing against those that don't either bc they don't want to, don't have the energy, the bravery to do it, etc. But I also will always support those that try.

Silencing people that speak up is a real serious issue we have in our societies, anti intellectualism is a serious issue we have in our societies. The loss of critical thinking is a serious issue. I don't know... haven't we learned how facism is linked to the loss of media literacy and anti intellectualism?

And yes, that starts with and includes how we react to the media we consume. It is how and where we practice the skills we then use irl. It is how we sometimes learn stuff, learn different perspectives, issues we wouldn't have thought of. How we change our thoughts sometimes, with the media we consume, and thinking about it.

In all honesty, it also bothers me, the generalizations, grouping stuff in bad faith (not making a distinction in between those that do misinterpret etc. and those that make actual criticisms), bad faith takes, like that. But I recognize it is more a personal thing maybe. We all react differently to different tones and different things. for me the tone of the post I answered to is amongst the things I really dislike and finds unacceptable. For others maybe it's nothing.

We have different education, cultures, sensibilities, experiences.

Except the grouping together tactic, that is not a personal thing. It is an actual issue, this tactic is used all of the time, (ie. grouping criticism and calling out idk racism for eg and hate, grouping criticism and harrassment, etc.). That one is also a real life issue.

generalizations too...

Ayway. Rambles over. I maybe over reacted a tad but I stand by what I said, and it kind of was the last drop in an already overflowing cup.

Again no judgment or anything against the people that are not into criticism, just want to consume and enjoy medias. But you do you, and do not try to police others maybe?

It's like religion, be free my friend, do it if you want, have fun, but do not try to proselytize and impose your beliefs onto others.

like when did it become the standard to not criticize the stuff we consume? Or maybe it always was and I live in a weird country of pple that just like to criticize stuff.

i'm trying to be more outspoken, reading mythalism post yesterday was a bit like... a slap in the face or an electrochoc. I used to be much more outspokenx and daring in my opinion. Not as eaten by self doubt, fear, etc. But due to several factors, throughout the years, I became more avoidant and passive. Silent. Not a 100%, I don't think i could ever a 100% be silent on stuff. But when i speak up it is always with such dread, during, after. I avoid conversations, I avoid giving my opinions, etc. like... much more than I do speak out.

I am mostly afraid to not do it right, but that too reading mythalism posts and today some other posts, gave a bit of an electrochoc. Of daring to mess up publicly. I do not fear being wrong in itself, but I fear messing up and missing the mark and being ridiculous in doing so -not that I'd ever judge anyone else the same way-. I fear being not good enough, rather. Not doing things well enough to be accepted, tolerated, etc. I fear disappointing...

but don't we all? And yet we face it. Or we'd do nothing. And I am tired of not doing enough bc of my anxiety. It's never going to fully go away, and it will always bother me, and it is far from being ad easy as saying "I am tired I will fight" of fucking course. But.. let's say I got a burst of courage and motivation to try to go against it a bit more. Anyways. rambles rambles. I am fighting my anxiety big times here tbh. But that's ultimately how i'll get away from it. (or win territory. whatever metaphor.).

[jangofctts]

Mirrored Heart (captain rex x fem!reader)

rated: 18+ explicit 

word count: 5.6k

warnings: smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampies, fingering, blow jobs, clone space racism?  

a/n: ANYWAY HERE IT IS. ive had this draft saved since like a year ago and just now finished it. anyway kwjrkejh here YALL GO. also thank you @jango-fettish​ FOR LETTING ME BORROW SYRENA 

It's curious. 

Well, you, as a whole are curious—completely outside the realm of what Rex considers normal. As far as senators go, that is. 

You're grumpy for one—worse than Skywalker and far more snide than Kenobi—a near gargantuan task bordering impossible. Wit and cleverness come to you easier than breathing, but it's your unwavering kindness towards himself and his brothers that sticks out like a blaster burn against alabaster white walls.  

He passed it off as a joke—some sort of mockery. Rex’s existence has been full of them. The past year it’s been made glaringly clear as to what the clones are to the people of the republic—tools. Mindless war machines dressed with flesh and bone, heart and sinew instead of durasteel and a circuitboard. Humanity has been skimmed over with excuses and debates over the hollow argument that clones were created for the sole purpose of war—nothing more. Ignorance is bliss when you are not the one fighting tooth and nail for petty skirmishes and the survival of your family.        

Ithyea, your home monarchal planet, is a newer member of the Galatic Republic—one of the firsts to advocate for clone rights—cutting through each argument with the steel headed javelin of hope and determination. Controversial in the eyes of the galaxy but no less than true. Yet with controversy, comes chaos. 

Wedged between Takodana and the Cerean Reach hyperspace lane—it’s an essential key to accessing more neutral space sectors without stepping on any toes. While the planet does mirror the size of a larger than average moon, there’s nothing but grandeur with the cutting edge advances in space travel and military innovations. An arts district too, one that’s presented multiple times for the Senate apparently. Rex has yet to see it. It’s an easy guess as to why Ithyea has gone under pointed attacks from the Separatists—it’d be foolish not to try.     

And of course comes the intergalactic mess of politics. You are not Ithyea’s first senator. Or second…or third. Just in the last six months, three of your predecessors have been picked off—two disappearances and a suspicious poisoning sandwiched between them. Which sides these assassinations stem from is anybody’s guess—a mix of both perhaps—all to silence and stamp the voice of your people out.

Heavy are the shoulders that wear those abhorrent senatorial robes, and Maker did it take some convincing for another Ithyean to step to the chopping block. It’s just…no one thought  it’d be you. The infamous captain of King Arrian Felian’s elite guard—trained in combat levels high enough to contend some of those within the ranks of the Jedi Order. When your name comes up in conversation, it certainly doesn’t scream diplomacy.     

Rex is not surprised that you hold the current record of Ithyean senators for surviving the longest. Evading an astonishing two attempts on your life by the skin of your teeth. You were just downright lucky the third assassin missed their mark. Sure, the blade of Syrena Aster skimmed the right side of your cheek and left behind a nasty scar to remember her by, but kriff—even with your background and low levels of public presence, you’re a high priced target. Whoever placed an order with the Heretics, really wants to see you six feet under.     

Rex hasn’t been given the full report on exactly who the Heretics are—a rag tag bunch of untrained Force users and skilled assassins from what he’s gathered—but regardless, this attack is just the beginning. Until the Senate and the Jedi are able to retract the price on your head, you’re stuck under protective custody. Usually ushered away into the Jedi Temple or tagging along with General Kenobi and Skywalker. Despondently, no matter the circumstances of your protection, it can’t shield you from the dreadful invitations to senatorial luncheons.

 And yes, you tried to slip by for this one. 

You don't brush elbows with other senator’s like many of the members in the Jedi Order and your own cohort do. In fact, you actively avoid even speaking to them unless necessary, let alone stand in the same room with seven of them. Odd for an elected official of diplomacy such as yourself to be so cold shouldered—Rex would think senators wanted to mingle.    

It's curious because you're standing in plain sight and yet no one pays you any passing thought. General Kenobi and Skywalker hold the majority of their attentions, shoulders already taught with exasperation at keeping everyone from tearing out each other's throats for, kriffing five minutes. Yet you...you are completely at ease, leaning up against a stone pillar, observing the unfolding chaos from afar with a keen eye. 

Before Rex realizes he's stepping towards your position, you glance over and dip your chin in greeting. The ghost of a smirk pulls at your normally grim facade—his heart skips. "Captain."

"Senator," he mimics, posting himself to your right. There’s still a thin, healing scab from the assassin’s blade that extends from the swell of your cheek to your ear. Ouch. “Enjoying the evening?" 

You snort. "Hardly enjoying it, Rex."

Stars—you shouldn't be allowed to say his name. Your words are razor-sharp like a jagged vibroblade, meant to jab and pierce through armor—tear a person to pieces without having to lift a finger. Everything about you is rough, gritty, brutal, unbecoming of what a senator should be, but— 

You mouth his name, purring out the singular syllable with such tenderness that it's like a punch to the gut. 

It's hard to swallow and he needs to clear his throat—an embarrassing act on his part, but your attention has already returned back towards the meandering senators. "How d'you mean?"

"Well," you sigh, "let's just say smalltalk isn’t my strong suit." 

"Aren't you senators s'pposed to like diplomacy n' such?" 

Your thumb smoothes over your bottom lip in thought as you shrug. "Diplomacy? Sure. Politicians? Can’t say I like them. I just—"

You wave your hand around, gesturing vaguely to the crowd. "I just don't understand why they can't say what they mean. Telling someone to have a nice day shouldn't entail certain death, y'know?"

"Speaking from experience?" He teases, gently prying into that harder than beskar wall you've created for yourself. There's fissions in your foundation and he means to tear it down all for just a mere scrap of information. 

Your eyes flick over, your lips curling into a vulpine grin. “Perhaps...Though, it was partially my fault, I have to admit.” 

“You’ll have to tell me the story sometime, Senator.” 

You nod. “Yes, one day—when there aren’t so many political ears jumping at the chance of gossip.” 

A swell of laughter interrupts your chat, your attention gravitating to Obi-Wan—ever the charmer with the crowds. The end of your mouth pulls into a frown as you sigh and carefully scratch at your brow with the back of your thumb. Rex might be pulling at straws, but what he mistook as you being standoffish may just be your nerves. Socially awkward and flustered when speaking in such an intimate setting. 

Rex’s first instinct is to reach out and place a hand over your shoulder in comfort, but he’s not sure how you’ll respond to the touch. Flip him over your shoulder probably—

Instead he forces himself to jumpstart the conversation—something to distract from your anxieties. “I hope you don’t mind me asking—“ His heart beat kicks up into a flurry of wild beats as you turn you head. “What uh..wh—did you want to become a senator?”

He likes it when you smile—like you’re letting him on some sort of coy secret. You shift your weight and shrug. “The king asked me personally. I’m flattered he thinks I’m clever enough—insulted he sends me to these abysmal gatherings like some sort of show pony.”

Rex chuckles. “Yeah, can’t say I like ‘em either.” 

“Although…” Your thumb runs over your lip again, a sparkle of mischief igniting behind your eyes. “As a senator, I do get the occasional tidbit of gossip. Here, I’ll catch you up—“

The captain startles when you snatch his elbow and yank him closer. Maker he’s glad for his helmet because your lips brush against his earpiece as he leans down to reach your height. 

“Look." You whisper, nodding casually in the direction of a particularly young senator with a shock of white hair. She's swathed in a pool of royal blue silk, much too large for her tiny frame, and all but hanging off Skywalker's arm with glittered nails filed into points. "That is Senator Ceci Paare of Corellia. She looks innocent, no?"

She does. Wide, crystalline green eyes stare up at the Jedi Knight as a pretty giggle escapes past her ruby painted lips. Skywalker grimaces. 

"I quite like her," you continue with a sly grin. "Even if she does try to influence public opinion by an invitation to bed." 

There's no time to process as you focus in on an older man. His hazy blue skin, ash white lips and vermillion green eyes cut an almost nightmarish profile, accentuated by mountains of black robes. Rex can’t recall what planet the senator represents. The senator holds his head stiffer than rebar to keep the ornate golden circlet from slipping off, his white lips curling in distaste as Orn Free Taa of Ryloth places a meaty hand over his slender shoulder. 

"He is Lord Tal’en Sol Ra'ah. Cunning, but sympathetic to the pleasures of gambling."

It's a game to you—of perceptions and nuances only a trained eye can roll over. Rex expects nothing less. This sort of thing has been hammered into the very essence of your being since you were little—reading an enemy before they can strike. It works on politicians marvelously well. 

Truth be told Rex should be paying more attention—but the closeness of your face to his helmet is maddening. His heart twists and coils as your bare hand skims along his gloved one—kriff. He’s not gonna make it before he bursts into a thousand little pieces.  

Rex’s spell of lovesick yearning recedes as you swear under your breath. It was only a matter of time before someone approached your little corner.  

"Oh, Maker save me," you hiss under your breath as a young Mirialan saunters over, the swatches of rich red and brilliant gold accentuate his violet skin like a bloody bruise. "Pretend you're speaking with me." 

"I am speaking with you," Rex snorts. 

Your hand waves in dismissal as your brows stitch together, hands balling into fists. Your jaw clenches as the senator in question puts on a dazzling smile. You look downright panicked. Rex has witnessed you face down numerous senators older than dirt and close to blowing away in the wind with plucky fervor, assassination attempts, being held captive, and you're frightened…by this? 

This is too good. 

Rex has half a mind to help you, wheel you away from your little predicament, but his intrigue with seeing your oh-so-solid resolve crumble is much too valuable and entertaining to pass up. He's going to remember this for years.  

"Rex."

"Senator," he mimics, not at all frightened by your poisonous glare. "Some diplomacy might do you good."

You begin to snarl out a threat but are decidedly cut off by your object of horror planting himself before your hiding spot. You cower into the corner like a boxed in loth-cat. "Ah, my favorite Ithyean! I had begun to worry you would not make it, my dear friend."

"Senator Lin," you sigh. The smile you offer is tight and thin; a nervous one much in the same way one would be if presented with a box of toenails for a birthday gift. “How pleasant to see you."

Senator Lin’s deep violet lips part with an easy smile. He waves a hand in dismissal, his silver rings glinting in the warm lighting. "Please—call me Toluka. No need to bother with such formalities between companions." 

Rex suddenly understands your trepidation with the Mirialan—he’s slimy. And, not to mention, not at all ashamed with the lecherous looks as his eyes sweep down your body. Rex clenches his teeth and folds his arms behind his back. He’s regretting not heeding your warning now…  

Try as you might through brutal small talk and chilly answers, Senator Lin refuses to take the hint. A dark plume of venom green lashes through Rex’s chest as the Mirialan places a friendly hand over your shoulder. You grimace as Rex bristles and glares through the visor of his helmet.  

Senator Lin’s lips pull into a gaudy smile as he glances at Rex and then at you.“My dear, don’t you know? It’s not worth wasting your time with a clone. After all, they’re all the same person. How boorish—come join us at the table.”

Your teeth bite into your cheek as your temper, like the silver of blade through the darkness, cuts through your steely irises. With poised nonchalance, you lift your hand and pinch Senator’s Lin’s fingers between your own and pry them off your shoulder. “Is that so?”

“Your campaign, valuable as it may be,” Lin continues, “is a useless endeavor. They are not our equals and never will be--you must know that." 

Rex forces himself to remain calm—collected and certainly not imaging a thousand and one ways he’d like to see his fist breaking the fragile bones of the senator’s face.  

"Fine buttons stitched upon your shoulders do not compel your worth, Senator,” the harshness of your words is a blow straight to Lin’s ego. His well-groomed brows furrow drastically as his tongue struggles to play catch up and find words to repair his shattered pride. 

There’s no chance for Senator Lin to regain his footing as your snatch Rex’s wrist and sweep him out into the hall. Rex can feel your anger roll off of you in waves, frighting and holding the same caliber of roaring waves thundering against black, craggy rocks. It’s a miracle the night didn’t end with your hands wrapped around the senator’s throat or a blaster shot through the chest. 

When you reach the lower halls of the cruise ship is when you release Rex’s wrist. You pinch the bridge of your nose between your fingers and release a long, dramatic sigh.   

"You are worth far more than that pompous ass," you say with enough edge to slice through a droideka's shields. "He has no right to say those things to you." 

“It’s alright,” Rex soothes, placing a hand over your bristling shoulder. “I’ve heard worse.” 

Your features scrunch up into a wince. “That...that doesn’t mean you have to suffer through more of it, Rex.”

Sighing, you run a hand through your hair and loosen the heavy outer robes strung around your shoulders. You shrug out of them and fold the thick swaths of fabric over you arm—revealing the under layers of your uniform. You toss the bundle of fabric to the floor with a disgusted grimace and sit on the cargo crate closest to your left. 

“Really—it’s ok.” Rex assures again. “I—“

You hold up a hand and shake your head. His mouth snaps shut. “I won’t hear it. To me you are nothing short of perfect and I refuse to argue about it. Maker knows I already do that for a kriffing living.”

There’s a fragile lull in the hollow space—the distant chatter of voices and strange music collecting in the corners. You stand once again, toe to toe with the Captain and there it is again, that elated pitter patter of his heart thrumming through his veins. The nerves of being so close to you—you sweet face and not being able to touch you.  

“Let me see your face.”

His hands come up to the edges of his helmet without hesitation, a hiss of hair escaping the seal once he pries it off. You smile and take a step closer until the only thing separating you and him is his helmet. 

Rex’s eyes flutter shut, leaning into your hand you gingerly place over his jaw. “I wish the entire galaxy could see you through my eyes,” you whisper, the warmth of your soft palm radiating out and warming his entire body.  

It’s a matchstick to kerosene—his helmet clatters to the ground and there’s only a second to spare as both hands move to cup his cheeks, dragging him into a mouthwatering kiss. 

He hasn’t kissed many people—save for those rare times at 79’s, head swimming under the haze of one too many shots of Corellian fire whiskeys where he could barely distinguish his ass from his hand. Those drunken make-outs were nothing like this. 

No—this…this is what a kiss should be like.   

He dreams about you all the time—so constantly ravenous that all he can feel some days is pure ache. Every and all words that spin around his head starts with you and finishes with his pounding heart close to bursting free from his ribcage. Not in the same way a flood rips through an unsuspecting village—more like the brilliance of a thousand doves, marble white plumage thrashing free from their gilded cage. Your lips taste like the core of a newborn star—scorching and yet still so sweet upon the tongue the same way caramelized sugar sticks to the roof your mouth. You are his first and last everything. 

There’s a certain kind of tragedy hidden beneath your tongue, fragile promises and the eggshell thin shards of hope stapled to the roof of your mouth. Rex will take it—seize any threadbare strand and run with it—spool it into the palm of his hand until you’re wound so tightly together it’ll be impossible to untangle.     

Just when the dizziness sets in from elation and not enough air, you part and leave a sticky trail of warm kisses up his jaw. Rex groans and hugs you closer, you humid breath blooming across his skin. “Let me take care of you.”

The words on his tongue crumble to ash once he nods in agreement. Your kisses dip lower, not even stopping when the reach the edge of his chest plate. Stars, you’re…he never entertained the idea that your lips could look so divine in contrast to the battered plastoid. When you fold onto your knees his heart leaps to his mouth, a flare of arousal flashing through his groin. 

You rest your chin over his codpiece and smile. “Do you like seeing me on my knees, sir?”

Rex huffs and studies at the opposing wall—

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Your fingers find the claps over his codpiece. “Can I take this off?”

Rex jerks his head in a yes but grabs your wrist. Not a rough hold—a tentative one as hesitation swirls in his eyes. “Don’t—don’t have t’ do this for me—“

You quirk a brow. “I want to because I like you, Rexy.”

A rosy blush blooms over his sharp cheekbones. The captain nods again.

The codpiece clatters to the ground and immediately you move your hand to palm him through his blacks. He grunts and squeezes his eyes shut. There we go.      

Biting your lip, you pull down his blacks as far as the plastoid plating allows, greeted with the hard length of his cock, beautiful and flushed a rosy brown. Fuck—he’s thicker than you thought. You wrap your fingers around the base, delighted by Rex’s airy gasp as he throbs in your palm. A bead of liquid shines at the tip and just the sight of it makes your mouth water. 

Moons—you should’ve done this sooner.

With a stuttering inhale, Rex trails his forefinger along your cheek and tucks a stray hair behind your ear. The pads of his fingertips skim lower and lightly pinch your chin between his forefinger and thumb. Your eyes lift to meet his. “You—you sure?”

You answer with a kiss over the dip of his navel, the skin searing hot under your lips. Rex curses and rolls his head back onto his shoulders when your palm slides up the length of his cock and then back down. Your grip is firm and tight as Rex slumps onto the crate, goosebumps rushing up his exposed flesh. Stars, when’s the last time he’s gotten release like this? 

You lean forward and lick a languid line from the velvety skin of his balls all the way up to the tip. Rex’s hips jolt. You purse your lips and suckle at the head, dipping your tongue over the slit then down to trace the ridge of his frenulum all the while your hand rolls up and down his shaft. Rex tangles his fingers into your hair with a hiss. You open your jaw a bit wider and take him down a few inches into the wet heat of your mouth, feeling your lips stretch around his cock. You you drag the flat of your tongue along the underside of his shaft to make the thickness easier to swallow down, but he's still only halfway into your mouth when he hits the back of your throat.

“Fuck—" Rex moans as his hips strain to remain still. “S’good—such a good girl.”

You glance up, eyes devouring the attractive length of his clean shaven throat and the underside of his chin. Rex swallows and let’s out another little sound. You whine softly in return and slip a hand into your pants, pressing your fingertips against your throbbing clit as you start to carefully bob your head up and down. Yeah—your jaw already aches just from holding his cock in in your mouth but fuck it—it’s worth it.   

Rex's chest heaves with exertion as he mindfully rocks his hips up, pushing and rolling his cock deeper into your mouth until his shaft is nearly seated all the way in. Ditching your own pleasure entirely, you swallow around him, forcing down the urge to gag and simply hold him here. Allowing him a moment to just enjoy the soft warmth of your mouth before launching into the main event.  

Rex murmurs your name and strokes his thumb over your cheek. “You’re beautiful—so pretty like—like this..ah—” 

You pointedly hollow your cheeks and suck, his flattery warming your chest with pride. You swallow around him another time, squeeze his shaft, your fist following your mouth as you lift up then back down to the base. You grunt at the abrupt jolt of his hips. There’s no distinctive rhythm you can follow as you pull halfway up and let Rex rock his hips into your mouth—seeking out his pleasure without a coherent thought in sight. Just a cacophony of gasping breaths and rough moans of your name. 

Soon enough he’s twitching in your mouth, his eyes fluttering shut as his head tips back onto his shoulders. The gloved hand sweetly cradling your cheek slips to the nape of your neck, tangling his fingers into you hair to anchor himself. He’s close—quiet gasps and broken curses tumbling out, hips unconsciously rocking into your mouth in search of release.

Rex whimpers your name, his leg jolting as you work your jaw wider and swallow him down, the dark curls tickling your nose once it brushes his groin. “Oh, fuck.” 

You hum around him, delighting in the mumbled praises. Almost there…That’s it. 

He’s dangling on the precipice—on tiny shove away from euphoria—

“Wait—“ Saliva dribbles down your chin when his cock pops out from your swollen lips, throbbing from the unintentional tease. “Maker—shit.” 

If not for the gloves covering his hands, you’re sure they’d be turning white from how tightly he grips the edge of the crate. His eyes are squeezed shut, slightly bent forward as he falls away from the edge of his release. Rex sucks in a steadying breath, amber eyes meeting your confused ones. 

“I don’t—can we—“ Rex’s eyes flit and focus on anything but you as he stutters and works up the courage to ask for what he wants. “Do we have time—“

You rolls your eyes and rest your cheek on his thigh. Silly man. “You wanna fuck me, Rexy?”

“Kriff, yes.”

You smile and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. “I don’t think they’ll miss us."

Rex doesn’t complain when you take his hands and yank him onto the grubby floor and over your senatorial robes. He props his back against the crate as you shuck off everything below the waste and clamber into his lap. His hands, warm even through the leather, land over the swell of your hips and wrench you closer until your front presses up against his chest plate. 

The rough prickle of his stubble is, in all sense of the word, addictive. He tilts his head to kiss you, the slick touch of his tongue on your bottom lip adding jet fuel to the fire low in your belly. Rex groans and cups your jaw, holding your mouth open to dance his tongue along the length of yours. You whine and shudder as he purses his lips and lightly sucks on your tongue before you both part. 

Rex drags his teeth over your bottom lip as you both pant for precious air. His dark lashes sweep up his cheeks when he looks at you. This close you bare witness to the dazzling color of his eyes—crystalized pearls of amber over the crackled bark of pine tree in the midmorning sun. Muted gold threaded through the brown like fine lace and the slow shimmer of the sun dappled through water. To think such a man like him is dredged through the bloodied mud of war is despicable.

You blink away the swell of tears prickling at your eyes and kiss him once more. Sighing, you whisper down, mouthing soft nibbles and teasing kisses over his jaw and down his neck. Rex squirms and rock his hips up, your cunt clenching around nothing. You need him.   

“Rex,” you groan. You slide your hand between your bodies and grab at his thick length. Rex gasps into your mouth, long fingers clamping onto your waist in a death grip. “I want you.”

“I’m yours.” 

Your nibble at his earlobe as you grind your hips against his length, the folds of your cunt teasingly out of reach. “Touch me, Captain.” 

Rex tears off his vambraces and gloves, hand wedging between your thighs, touching the very tips of his fingers to your throbbing clit. You whine and clench your jaw—the pleasure is raw—sizzling electricity that crackles with the deadly promises of your pleasure. It’s as if you’ve had the breath knocked out of your lungs the second he bears down a bit more on your clit, drawing tentative circles, each completion sending a shockwave of tightly spooled ecstasy through each and every nerve. You nearly sob as his fingers slip away. 

“So wet already,” Rex moans as you tip your head back when two of his fingers begin circle your dripping cunt. They’re thick and long and perfect. Your hips stutter as your cunt easily accepts his fingers, the heel of his palm slotting perfectly against your pussy to stimulate your clit. 

Maker you’re seeing stars as Rex rocks his hand into you—the bend of his fingers the perfect angle to catch all the right places that make you tremble. He kisses your cheek and moans your name into your ear, all low and gravelly— 

Your body seizes up tight as you soar, plummeting off the edge only to tumble so fast and so hard that tears prick the corner of your eyes. Rex peppers kisses over your cheeks and runs his free hand through your hair, purring praise and adoration as you shudder—your mouth parted in a silent cry as you cum and dissolve into his hands. 

When you suck in a steadying breath and open your eyes, Rex is gazing upon you with starstruck eyes—pure adoration that makes your cheeks flare hotter than the surface of two mini suns. Your teeth catch your bottom lip. You’re not sure you deserve to be looked at like this…

However, you’re impatient and running on stolen seconds. As much as you’d like to just simply stare at him—there’s not enough time. Rex wraps his fingers around the base of his cock and slides the tip of himself through your soaking folds. Each stroke against your still throbbing clit makes you buckle into yourself, but the angle that your knees are propped over his hips means you're stuck here. 

Rex pauses and cups your cheek. His thumb scrapes over your cheekbone. “You want this?”

You place your hand over his and turn your head to mouth a kiss over the lines of his palm. Oh, fuck yeah. Kind of him to ask as if hadn’t just cum over his fingers but—no. “I need you to fuck me, Rex. That’s an order.”

Rex huffs out a low chuckle and bumps the crown of his forehead against yours. “As you wish, Senator.” 

Rex runs the blunt head of his cock through your folds again, slicking himself up with your arousal. You mewl and dig your nails into the hard plastoid as the wide tip of him pushes into your entrance—he shudders as you clench and wiggle. It doesn’t hurt, but he’s in no small. You’ll feel him for days, you’re sure of it as your cunt swallows inch after inch. 

You both groan as he finally bottoms out. His jaw his clenched tight as sweat beads at his blonde hairline—Stars above, he’s a sight, struggling not to loose control the second he’s buried inside of you. Desire tickles up your spine, tugging at the fabrics of your being until all you can focus on his how Rex isn’t moving. You shift your hips in tiny, almost imperceptible motions, and squeeze around him. 

“Damn—“ A ragged moans slices through his words as your gentle rocking morphs into needy jolts. It’s easy to fuck yourself onto his cock like this, but the measly thrusts are meant to tempt him. “Fuck, cyare, you’re tight.” 

You smirk and grab at his sculpted shoulders—it’s the push he needs. Rex snarls your name, cups his hands under the globes of your ass and pulls you off his cock nearly all the way out only to slam back in. There’s no time to adjust before Rex sets a pace, fevered and rabid All pent up energy collecting over the weeks you’ve known each other. Each roll of his hips borders erratic, taking his pleasure without thought—intent on reaching his own end after being denied for what feels like ages. 

You squeal in surprise as Rex pushes you onto your back and hoists your legs around his hips. Rex buries his nose into the crook of your neck and moans your name like a sweet prayer wrapped in honeycomb. Rex shifts his weight, widening his knees to sink deeper into your cunt—his stubble tickling your throat as his staggered exhales burn hot over your skin. 

You choke out a groan and feel your arousal begin to drip down your thighs—hear the thrusts of his cock into your cunt become shamefully wetter. Electric heat sears down each vertebrae in your spine, scorching through each and every veins with the catastrophic brilliance of an imploding star. Shit—

“So good t’me—so perfect,” he huffs into your ear. Rex turns his head and steals a kiss. “Feel fuckin’ good stretched around my cock."

You clench around him hard as Rex’s hand sneaks between your bodies and rubs tight, little circles over you swollen clit. There’s barely any build up to your orgasm—just a blinding surge of devastating warmth that sweeps through your body, from your aching center down to your toes. It steals away all the air left in your lungs and leaves your clutching his arm and shuddering for a hold in your own reality—the steady warmth of his body that’s unburdened by armor a much needed anchor for the madness that threatens to drown you. 

His gentle, and pliant kisses morph into little pricks of his teeth over your neck and collar bone as his hips struggle to keep a definitive pattern. Rex’s curses string together and blur into nonsensical noises and loose tongue admittances that are comparable to moving inches from an imploding star.   

“Where can—can I?”

You grab at his head and whine his name. “Anywhere—in me—you can cum in me.”

With a loving caress over back of his neck and a sweet whisper of his name, he reaches release. Rex’s moan is airy as his eyes slam shut and captures your mouth in a sizzling kiss. He’s twitching in your arms as his hips erratically jerk, hot spurts of his release coating your insides and beginning to leak over your robes you lay over. Whatever. 

Rex nips at your skin as the last dregs of pleasure jolt up your spine. Neither of you say a word as Rex’s hips come to a slow. Time trickles through your fingers like sand through an hourglass half empty but instead of rushing to dress, you choose to lie on the ground—two halves of a mess someone’s been meaning to clean up for the better part of a long while. You feel at home here—content as your fingers run up and down the back of his head, a bit irked by the armor still covering his back. You’re terrified of the months to come—but at least you have each other. After all, gardens will bloom and flourish with fresh blooded love and wild mistakes sculpted from passion forever if you believe hard enough…wont they?

[who-is-page]

We sort of started this discussion at Chimeras' Othercon panel, but I wanted to keep it going so I figured I would send an ask. What do you think it would mean for our community to drop the focus on voluntary and involuntary identities? I agree that we fundamentally should, but a bunch of things immediately jump to mind.

Our community has spent years leaning heavily into the lines between voluntary and involuntary identities and taken special care to make massive distinctions between them, leaving little to no room for grey area. It's no bit surprise that alterhuman spaces have had actual, legitimate, longstanding issues of grilling and gatekeeping. Nonhumans with nuanced and complicated identities are forced to shove themselves into a box to fit into the community, and the ideas we have about certain identities needing to be involuntary are absolutely baked into many aspects of our community and its history.

At the same time, we have used this unjustified gatekeeping in part to protect the community from genuine threats and appropriation of our terminology. The way we have limited our concepts of who is allowed to identify in what ways is generally wrong and has no doubt harmed a subset of kin, but at the same time is understandable in the sense that it has a cause. Yes, this was an issue even before KFF, but KFF certainly don't make it easy to create space for genuine voluntary kin and other voluntary alterhumans.

How do we create the space for nuance and fluidity and complexity in these terms and identities after we have spent so long defensively creating rigid boundaries and restrictions regarding the ways people are allowed to identify? How do we address community gatekeeping while also protecting our community from the people who use our identities and terminology in bad faith?

I have a lot of ideas, but this is obviously a very complex topic that we can't just solve in a day. I was just curious to hear your thoughts, if you had any. Hopefully once our personal website is up one of our first essays will be about this issue. (Also, how is Page? /hj)

So I know we’ve been sitting on this ask for... -checks watch- ...almost two weeks now, but it’s genuinely because I just wasn’t sure how to answer it for a good long while, and I didn’t just want to throw out some haphazard, half-hearted answer to such important questions. So here’s our thoughts on the debacle.

Voluntary and involuntary is a focus I doubt we’ll ever see any of the alterhuman communities permanently drop, for several reasons.

The first and foremost being that, by the definition of the term “alterhuman,” defined here as “a subjective identity which is beyond the scope of what is traditionally considered ‘being human’,” both experiences at their most extremes technically fall underneath the label, rendering the distinction (to some) vitally important to helping understand and define their identity/identity labels. The difference between KFF as an alterhuman identity and forms of otherkinity as an alterhuman identity, for instance, as you mention.

And then there’s the societal factors to consider. People like nice, neat little boxes: people like to be able to compartmentalize their communities, with no overlap, with no spillage, with no complications or grey areas or nuance. It’s a fact of life that people often instinctively want to water down labels and identities into more easily digestible formations, though there are arguments around why people precisely do it. And, as you point out, that often means alterhumans and nonhumans with more complex or nuanced identities typically get shoved into one box or another that they may not perfectly fit into.

When we zero in on specifically the otherkin community, this becomes even more complicated given the community’s rife history: abusive p-shifter groups, the appropriation of language by roleplayers and fiction writers, zoophiles attempting to forcibly associate otherkinity with pro-bestiality movements, and the blatant general misinformation spread by laymen and academics alike, just to name a few relevant problems the community has faced and continues to face. The community is stubborn to a fault, largely because it’s had to be in order to survive. It holds to its preconceived notions and rigid boundaries like a dog with toy aggression to their favorite plush stegosaurus. Fittingly so, really.

So how do we take that stubbornness and change it to be more inclusive to our own? How could we, while still surviving all that onslaught and more? That’s the big question.

In regards to the larger alterhuman community, we’re blessed in the fact that it’s still such a young concept: it hasn’t quite yet had to face the “pathological anger” Religious Studies professor Joseph Laycock has described otherkin as bearing the brunt of. It’s still a community figuring itself out, with much of the anger you find related to it aimed at specific subsets of community within it, rather than at alterhumanity as a whole. And I think the fact that the alterhuman community is still metaphorically air-drying on a table means we have the opportunity to prevent anti-nuance and anti-complexity attitudes from taking hold in it. How we do that is another battle in itself-- I feel like the encouragement of inclusive dialogue, of open discussion intermingled with considerate or civil attitudes, within alterhuman-marketed spaces is a good starting point. I also think that the encouragement and legitimization of “alterhuman” as its own standalone term would be a positive force, where it functions as a broad, diverse identity label in addition to being an overarching, joining umbrella label. A label where someone doesn’t have to give details away of their identity if they don’t feel comfortable doing so, or shove themself into a box they may or may not actually feel they fit into. Something functionally similar to how many people use “queer,” if you will.

But that still leaves aside the issue of identity and terminological misuse, I am aware. And that is...an abstract thing to ward against, at absolute best. I think that the defining of our own spaces not only through our words but also through our actions would perhaps be the best thing we could do, realistically. The cultivation of websites, of group projects--books, zines, comics, pictures, forums, anything!--, of community-led conventions and meet-ups and howls and gatherings. Things which foster and build a community identity of sorts is the best defense against those who would try and distort that which makes us, us.

Zooming back in on the otherkin community, these answers change slightly, because--going back to the clay metaphor--the otherkin community has already metaphorically been glazed and baked (in the fires of hell). That history is cemented, the ways people have wronged it and continue to try and wrong it is cemented, the assumptions and attitudes are cemented.

With the otherkin community, I think that the burden of changing minds and pervasive attitudes falls a bit more onto the shoulders of “community leadership,” because of how the community functions and values both community experience and articulation. There’s a reason we don’t have a term comparable to “greymuzzle” in any of the other alterhuman communities, after all-- it’s a well-known and often aggravating quirk of the otherkin community, to hold certain individuals in such high esteem and put them on a pedestal because of their longevity and the things they’ve done and said. I hate to say that they have to set an example, but in the otherkin community that really is one of the best ways to advocate for change, or to push against those gatekeeping and grilling attitudes--by those who are largely well-respected putting forward ideas that have previously been mocked or disavowed, pushing debates on their legitimacy into community consciousness until it eventually trickles into community normalcy and foundation.

(This is, as you can imagine, a double-edged sword depending on how it’s used. But that’s a discussion for another day.)

That’s not to say that the ideas of creation and creativity with the goal of cultivating an inclusive community identity, like I suggested for the alterhuman community, is inapplicable to the otherkin community: but the otherkin community already has a long-term community identity, so it’d moreso be creation and creativity for the sake of formative inclusion. “History is always written by the winners” is a very, very literal phrase in its application to the otherkin community. Our community memory, for lack of a better way to put it, sucks from individual-to-individual. The future of the otherkin community, its eventual-history, is determined by its historians and creators of today: day-to-day arguments and discussions, unless deemed historically relevant by one archivist or another, disappear to the sands of time, and much more long-term recordings such as essays, websites, comics, etc., often go far beyond just its creators hands and get passed around and down for years, potentially. If you want a more nuanced and inclusive community, you have to dig up the clay for it, shovel by shovel, and bake it yourself, brick by brick, and eventually, with luck, or enough backing prestige, or just because those bricks are so astoundingly solid people can’t resist taking some to build their own foundations to nonhumanity, things will change. It will take time above all else, but once it’s there it will be impossible to remove, because people will just assume those bricks have always been there given enough years.

But those are just some of my thoughts and opinions on it. It’s an issue with so many layers of complexity to it, that there’s really no perfect answer out there that I can offer, and I know even what I’ve shared here has its flaws and drawbacks. I’m sure plenty of my followers also have additional thoughts on the subject, and I’d love to hear from other people what they think in the replies and reblogs.

(Also, Page is a very tired boi.)

[mssirey]

Hope (part 10 - finale)

Everything can now be read all together on AO3!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9

Kara went still.

Her face melted into a smooth, blank stare, and the sight of it invited icy tendrils to grip Lena’s exposed heart, squeezing until all she could do was gasp pitifully. Lena slammed the flat of her hand against the field that kept them apart, crackles dispersing around her skin, but Kara didn’t so much as blink.

It had taken every bit of her courage to put words to the tightness in her chest, to name the heaviness that beat against her ribs, to acknowledge the way gravity had turned against reason and her orbit circled one person. She had never let herself consider it, shrank away from it, welcomed darker thoughts in its place. Love was a fool’s game, after all, and Lena had long refused to play.

In the end, she was a fool and the universe proved its point in its ruthless fashion, her admission met with utter silence, not even a whisper to ease her doubts. Mercy was never meant for her.

Kara was lost—fallen out of reach—and Lena was ready to follow her, to sink beneath the tide of panic and be forgotten by the world. There was no telling what might surface, but she preferred not to see it.

The first break in the stillness was the soft flutter of Kara’s eyelashes and the well of tears that fell down marred cheeks, salted already weeping wounds. “No, no, no, no, Lena,” she whispered, syllables wet and slurred together. Her face cracked, her brow heavy with her devastation, her eyes stormy.

“Kara?” Lena didn’t dare hope, couldn’t survive being wrong, but her heart wished so deeply for it to be Kara—safe and whole.

Kara blinked, jarred from her sputtering, and her head cocked, her gaze distant, looking inward. “Yes,” she breathed, with a startled little laugh. “It’s me! Just me!”

Lena exhaled all the weight she harbored, sank back to sit fully on the floor, numb overtaking her limbs, closing in on the rest of her. “Fuck,” she panted and her body gave out as tension bled away, leaving her a boneless mess. She laid back, covered her face with her shaking hands, and willed her heart to steady.

There was relief, unquestionably, but there was also the sense that she had to answer for the hand she had in the course of events and she was tapped dry of courage. When she could feel her face again, she turned onto her side and lifted onto still trembling hands. She crawled until she felt her legs could support her and then set herself to task.

Kara called after her, her voice warbling and frantic. “Lena, where are you—”

“If Lex thinks I can’t break into a cell I designed, he only has his ego to blame,” she huffed, putting her hands to work rather than facing the continuation of their conversation. She didn’t aim for finesse as she pried the control panel open with ill-suited tools and in a matter of minutes, the door slid open.

Kara had gotten to her feet, and once freed, sidled out with her head hung and her gaze flitting between Lena’s face and the floor at her feet. “Lena, I, um… will you let me say something?”

Lena couldn’t summon the walls of her fortress fast enough, couldn’t contain her spilling heart, but for the first time, that wasn’t as terrifying as the thought of never trying to meet Kara. She nodded.

“I am sorry, Lena,” Kara said as she fidgeted, her hands each seeming to work to keep the other from reaching out. “I worried endlessly about what might happen if I told you—”

“For four years?” Lena was reluctant to press, afraid of what she would find when she opened that vein. Her lips were ready to drink from any cup offered—cracked and broken as they were—but she knew poison when it was fed to her.

Kara gave a pained nod. “I hold onto things too tightly— I always have.” She tried to force a smile, but it never quite stuck. “After everything I’ve lost, I…”

Lena’s stomach twisted, trapped in a vice with jagged teeth that rent her open, let the acid wash into her gut and devour her from within. “Kara, that’s not fair.” How was she supposed to justify her hurt when set against the backdrop of Kara’s loss?

Kara was floundering, lost and trembling. “No, I know, hang on— just, um, let me finish?”

Lena could only offer a stiff dip of her head. She watched Kara’s head lift, her eyes turned up towards the ceiling, her lips moving in a silent whisper—a prayer. When her gaze returned, she was steeled.

“I felt helpless… hopeless, that’s true, but instead of trusting what we had, I let my fears back me into every wrong choice.” All Lena heard was that Kara didn’t trust her and it punched straight into the hollow pit at her core—gave credence to the haunting whispers she argued so fervently against when alone with her thoughts. “I just… I couldn’t bear to lose you.”

It didn’t make sense and her mind screeched its alarm, telling her to run. “I was always there for you,” Lena reminded, her voice cracking under the strain of her withering composer, her knees degrading with the rest of her, ready to give out.

Kara chewed at her lip, but forced her chin to stay lifted, refusing to bend under her guilt. “You were,” she managed. “You’ve always made me feel so whole and I—” her eyes closed as tears streamed down her cheeks, “I didn’t let myself think about how little of me was present for you.” She exhaled shakily before she looked at Lena properly once more. “You deserved better from me, Lena.”

Lena’s doubts feasted, spun every word into another lie, mocked her with the awareness that there was no way to truly know if she was being spoon fed exactly what she wanted to hear. She needed something tangible to hold onto, and without thinking, found herself walking forward. Kara let her approach, watched with wide eyes, her uncertainty stiffening her back.

Lena stepped into Kara’s space and hesitantly reached out. Kara’s hands untangled and fell away from each other, affording Lena more room, and she took it. As soon as her arms encircled Kara, she sank forward, no longer able to deny needing to be held.

“I’m so sorry, Lena,” Kara whispered into her hair as she wrapped Lena up in the shelter of her embrace, cautious at first, but then shifting to pull Lena closer, taking the weight from her with sturdy hands.

Kara’s support allowed her to let go of her boxes, to let the seams of her wretched masks unravel, to fall apart and trust that she wouldn’t be alone to put herself back together. She buried her face in Kara’s neck and wept. Lena clutched tight to the fabric at her fingertips, secured the source of warmth that cushioned her fall. Kara made no mention of the tears that dampened her shirt, only soothed a hand along her back.

With the floodgates opened, her doubts spilled outward. “What did I do to—”

Kara shook her head and squeezed Lena tighter. “You didn’t do anything, Lena, I promise.”

“Then what were you afraid of?”

Kara’s chest expanded in her arms and Lena could feel the heaviness of her heart, the quickened thud against her cheek. “I was scared of letting you down.”

That struck a chord in Lena, plucked at the very strings that appeared in every arrangement she wrote. It was the undercurrent that steered her towards grand gestures and worse decisions, and why she tried so desperately to earn affection. She never felt worthy unless she compensated for every debt, and every misstep, and sometimes it was never enough.

For Kara it had been, or so she had been led to believe. She had bought into it blindly, unaware she was staking her heart until it was too late.

“Kara Danvers is not all of who I am, but she was who I wanted to be.” She tucked her head closer, as if to ensure that her words reached Lena’s ear. “She was important to you and I… I didn’t know how to give that up.”

Lena still couldn’t understand why she was singled out and it tightened her throat until she couldn’t swallow the reasoning.

Kara was important to everyone. She forged light out of her own darkness; she strived not only to be good, but to see good when others might turn away; she understood the power of kindness and empathy; she encouraged strength by way of example; she embodied hope, not in grandness, but in nuance. No one in her life would say different.

“Why me?”

Kara pulled back so abruptly that the air seemed to go with her and Lena’s lungs struggled to fill, but then warm, tender hands cupped her cheeks, and she melted into them. “Lena,” she breathed, her resolve beared down upon Lena with such intensity, her gaze unwavering, “it’s because I love you.”

That was one possibility Lena had never considered and it ripped up every logical foundation her doubts relied on. Her mind went quiet, slowly calibrating to the new way of framing events, wondering how the two of them could have been such fools.

“I’m sorry I let you think otherwise,” Kara said, her hands quivering, her courage wavering. “You are so, so important to me, Lena, and you always will be.”

Lena’s hands lifted to Kara’s wrists, fingers curled around them, wishing she could keep them there. “You promise?”

Kara nodded, relief mixing with eagerness in her eyes. “Yes! Yes, whatever the future brings, whatever we have to face out there,” her gaze flicked to the lab door before returning to Lena, “I’ll be here for you.”

Lena’s breath hitched, her lungs over-full, a spark of warmth igniting in her heart. Her shoulders were less burdened, or her spine sturdier, it was hard to be certain. Her tears didn’t sting the same, instead seemed like a welcome cleansing. Her smile didn’t need to be forced.

Perhaps that’s what hope felt like.

Lena didn’t mind it.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Fire and Light (ao3) - on tumblr: part 1

- Chapter 2 -

The sayings of Wen Mao were not exactly what Nie Mingjue would consider to be entertaining reading, but he put in the effort to learn them in the hope that it would explain something about the people around him. They were always speaking in significant tones and looking at each other, finding meaning in the spaces between words, and he felt as though he was falling further and further behind in understanding what they meant.

“- be beheaded for tens of thousands to revile,” he murmured, staring down at the words with a frown. It seemed straightforward enough at first glance, but surely it couldn’t mean what it said, not with how Wen Ruohan regularly behaved. “Wen-da-gongzi?”

Wen Xu twisted to look at him.

“This particular saying – the one about people who oppress others and do evil using the power of their clan –”

“You’re still reading that old thing?” Wen Xu asked, sounding exasperated. “Why? Haven’t you memorized it yet?”

“I can recite it,” Nie Mingjue said. “But I don’t think I understand it. Aren’t these sayings supposed to serve as a guide for behavior for the Wen sect? Take this saying. It can’t be right. I mean, your father is always going around doing things on the basis of his sect and clan having the most power. So is the nuance in the definition of ‘oppress others using the power of your clan’, maybe, or possibly in the interpretation of what’s being defined as ‘evil’? Or is there some other –”

“No one listens to those sayings,” Wen Xu said. “Haven’t you figured that out yet? There’s the rules on paper and then there’s the rules in reality, and only the latter matter.”

“But then why have the rules on paper at all?” Nie Mingjue asked, utterly baffled. The Nie sect didn’t have sayings, like the Qishan Wen sect, nor rules, like Gusu Lan; it had principles, basic ones, and everything else in the world could be debated based on how those principles interacted with reality. It was simple and straightforward, yet allowed for a certain degree of independent thinking and flexibility: as long as you could account for your behavior with one of the principles, the action was generally considered acceptable; if you couldn’t, you knew you had done wrong. “If they’re not being used, then they’re hardly worth the paper they’re written on. Just replace them with new ones!”

“Knowing the sayings of Wen Mao is our tradition.”

Nie Mingjue frowned, turning the words over in his mind and trying to understand what he was missing. “So the tradition is to know the sayings but not follow them?” he hazarded. It seemed utterly bizarre to him. “That’s very complex. Is the idea to teach people to think for themselves?”

Wen Xu laughed – the first instance of that that Nie Mingjue had heard, and it didn’t sound quite right, sounding less like a laugh and more like a strangled noise that echoed in the ear in a manner not unlike the yelp of an injured dog. “You’re getting further away, not closer,” he told him. “Just – do as you’re told, all right?”

Nie Mingjue was trying.

He attended the classes and did his best to excel in them. He maintained his training even when the Wen sect techniques didn’t work quite as well for the saber as Nie sect techniques. He took care of Nie Huaisang, ensuring as much as possible that he did the best he could in both classes and training.

He didn’t grieve for his father out in public where people could see, keeping his pain to the late hours of the night, when his weakness could not be used to hurt his family and sect.

It would all be so much easier if they just told him what they wanted.

-

It was another few weeks after the Wen cousins joined them that Wen Ruohan finally decided to attend one of the dinners himself, sweeping in unexpectedly to seat himself at the head of the room.

The start of the meal was as silent as a Gusu Lan banquet. Everyone had recently started talking a little more during meals, probably as a courtesy to the two of them since Nie Huaisang couldn’t stop running his mouth about everything and mealtime was the ideal place to catch Nie Mingjue up on everything he’d done that day, but now it was as if that had never happened, everyone reverting to the silent and gloomy atmosphere the meals had all had at the beginning.

At first, Nie Mingjue thought it was silence out of respect for the food, like it was for the Gusu Lan, or maybe just the quelling presence of an elder, but after a while Wen Ruohan finished serving himself, and then he looked down at them and began asking questions.

Nie Mingjue’s father had done the same, sometimes, but where he’d asked questions about their studies and training and general well-being, about their friends or their hobbies, wanting to know more about what interested them, Wen Ruohan seemed instead to take vicious pleasure in quizzing them all on various hypotheticals, testing their intelligence and retention and ability to deliver an answer on the spot.

Nie Mingjue was able to answer the questions directed at him, and Nie Huaisang lucked out in the first round – it was a question about poetry, moderately obscure but at least something Nie Huaisang actually knew – and the others were able to answer theirs as well, but in the second round Nie Huaisang was not so lucky and he got a question on sword forms.

“I – don’t know?” he said, sinking down a little in his chair.

All the other Wen children averted their eyes, except for Wen Xu whose eyes went vacant as if he were deliberately forcing himself not to really watch even as he did not turn his head away. A cruel smile played around Wen Ruohan’s lips. “How – disappointing,” he said, though his tone was far from disappointed. More like anticipatory. “You will need to be punished, of course.”

“For what?” Nie Mingjue interjected, forcing his voice to remain level and disinterested. “Not knowing the answer, or missing the logical fallacy in the question?”

Dead silence.

He looked up and met Wen Ruohan’s eyes.

-

“When you said I could practice on you, I didn’t think you meant that you’d be throwing yourself into trouble,” Wen Qing scolded. Her hands were shaking as she wrapped bandages around his chest and back, but that was fine – he didn’t actually think he needed bandages, since the bleeding had stopped, but it was, in fact, good practice for her so he didn’t say anything about it.

“If I didn’t interfere, he would have punished Huaisang,” Nie Mingjue said instead. Wen Ruohan had actually given him a choice: three strikes with the whip for Nie Huaisang, for failure to answer, and two for himself, for insolence, or else ten for himself alone.

He’d chosen the latter, of course.

“He knows he’s your weakness now, you know,” Wen Xu said, standing by the door watching. Wen Chao, Nie Huaisang, and Wen Ning were all behind him, Nie Huaisang sniffling and Wen Ning biting his nails and Wen Chao’s tense shoulders up high by his ears. “He’ll use him against you.”

Nie Mingjue shrugged, then stopped when Wen Qing poked at him. “It’s not like it would be hard to guess,” he said. “And our teachers would have told him that we were close anyway. If he was always going to know, what does it matter to tell him?”

“Aren’t you worried about him knowing?” Wen Chao burst out. “Not that you care about Huaisang, but that you’re stupid over it – he’ll think less of you because of it. It’ll make it harder to avoid disappointing him in the future.”

The way he looked at Nie Mingjue’s back made clear what being ‘disappointing’ would entail.

“If it’s a choice between suffering pain and having to hold myself distant, I’d pick pain every time,” Nie Mingjue said, then smiled ruefully. “I’m not smart enough to play the mind games of Qishan, A-Chao; I’d only ever trip myself up even trying. I’ll find my own way to survive.”

Wen Chao turned away from him.

“You’d better,” Wen Ning suddenly said, his reedy little voice unexpectedly fierce. “You’d better survive.”

“He will,” Nie Huaisang said, and he was a little fierce, too. “He will.”

-

The cultivation styles of Qishan Wen and Qinghe Nie were not that different, even if the Nie used the saber and the Wen the sword, and Nie Mingjue had always had something of a genius for cultivating. Although he had suffered a setback at the death of his father, he was young and unwillingly resilient; once he was properly settled in at the Nightless City, he began to progress quickly once more, earning the praise of his tutors and teachers alike.

It drove Wen Xu up the wall.

“What’s the use of having extra years or height,” he snarled, viciously kicking a practice dummy, “if you match up to me so quickly? If we spar and I lose and he sees…”

It was not necessary for him to identify who ‘he’ was.

Nie Mingjue looked at Wen Xu, feeling helpless. “If I pulled my strikes, he would know,” he said, and Wen Xu jerked as if he’d been struck by lightning.

“You can’t say something like that!” he hissed. “That was almost an offer!”

Nie Mingjue was out of his depth again. “No, it wasn’t,” he said, and Wen Xu relaxed a little. “I was explaining why it wouldn’t make sense for me to offer –”

“You’re hopeless,” Wen Xu declared, scowling. “Don’t you have enough trouble, without drawing more on your head?”

“My shoulders can bear the weight of a little trouble,” Nie Mingjue said with a shrug. “Besides, you have the harder hill to climb. I’m only his ward, not his son, after all, and anyway I only want him to leave me alone, while you want to impress him. If it costs me nothing, why shouldn’t I help you?”

Wen Xu was silent for a moment. “Some things will never be more than dreams,” he finally said, shaking his head, and Nie Mingjue wasn’t sure of what part of his statement he was reacting to. “Do you train outside of the regular hours?”

Nie Mingjue blinked at the abrupt subject change. “Yes,” he said. “I like to train in the mornings, before breakfast, and I meditate with Nie Huaisang in the afternoons. Would you like to join in?”

“I don’t see that I have much choice,” Wen Xu said, although for once he didn’t seem especially resentful about it. “It’s one thing not to have as much talent, that’s the disposition of the heavens, but not putting as much effort? Now that would be beneath me.”

Nie Mingjue nodded, understanding. “I’d be happy to have your company.”

“I don’t understand how you just say things like that,” Wen Xu muttered nonsensically, and stalked off before Nie Mingjue could tell him that he probably didn’t need to bother with coming to the afternoon sessions, since those weren’t really about his cultivation.

Instead, he put Nie Huaisang on his lap and helped guide his brother’s feeble qi through a full rotation, meridian by meridian. The doctors of Qinghe had helped put together this routine to strengthen Nie Huaisang, to empower his too-weak musculature and help build his foundation piece by piece so that he could one day create the golden core with his own efforts, even if they were weaker than most. It was time-consuming and exhausting for Nie Mingjue, who had to deal with trying to direct spiritual energy that wasn’t his own through an exceedingly complex sequence, and Nie Huaisang had complained about it being boring when they were back in Qinghe.

He didn’t complain now, though Nie Mingjue sometimes wished he would. It would make things feel more normal.

Nie Mingjue explained what he was doing to Wen Xu when he showed up, and to Wen Chao and Wen Ning and even Wen Qing when they unexpectedly appeared as well, but they all decided to sit in the little garden he’d found and meditate alongside him anyway.

“It’s a nice place,” Wen Chao mumbled, not looking at him. “And you don’t own it.”

Wen Qing shoved him. He shoved back.

“Of course not,” Nie Mingjue said, breaking them up with his hands, a little puzzled. “You and your cousins do. But if you find it peaceful and conductive to your meditation, you are welcome to stay.”

He wasn’t sure how quiet they really found it – he’d been born with his nose stuck in other people’s business and couldn’t help but offer unsolicited advice whenever he saw something that he thought could be improved, telling Wen Ning to prioritize finding his calm over any specific technique, walking Wen Chao through breathing exercises he thought would suit him better, showing Wen Qing the pressure points that could be pressed to help induce relaxation, even making small suggestions to improve Wen Xu’s form that mostly got glares and eye-rolls – but they came back every day.

-

Wen Ruohan attended dinner with them again only a week after the previous time, asking new questions and letting his eyes linger on Nie Mingjue and the way his actions were slower than usual, a smile curling his lips at the involuntary flinch Nie Mingjue gave when he twisted to respond to a question with a demonstration.

Wen Xu had advised Nie Mingjue to play up the injury, rather than try to deny or suppress it, in order to give the impression that he was nearer to his limits than he really was, a stratagem designed to reduce future injury, but Nie Mingjue had never really known how to dissemble.

He answered the questions directed at him with his tone a little short but carefully near to neutral, keeping his eyes down in what could be seen as respect. Perhaps Wen Ruohan found his little rebelliousness entertaining, but the questions didn’t seem that bad this time, and everyone was able to come up with something to satisfy him, even Nie Huaisang who grimaced and strained himself to recall the most basic concepts and Wen Ning who knew the answers but stuttered so badly in Wen Ruohan’s presence that he could barely utter them aloud.

When dinner was done, Wen Ruohan asked Nie Mingjue to touch his toes and laughed at him when he couldn’t, pushing his head down to ‘help’ his inferior flexibility and tearing the few marks the whip had torn into his skin open again as he did.

“Do better, next time,” he said, and left without demanding any other exhibition of talent.

“There’s a discussion conference coming up soon,” Wen Xu said, looking down at his mostly unfinished plate. Noodles, as always, with pork and vegetables in a sauce, pungent but not as spicy as Yunmeng, served alongside a too-thick lambs’ blood soup and delicate side dishes that were more appearance than taste; it was the usual food they got, and most of the time they all ate it quite happily. “He’ll be busy for a while, preparing for that.”

“Could you show me where the kitchens are?” Nie Mingjue asked instead of anything else. “I have the sudden desire for barbecue.”

Qinghe used more salt than Qishan and applied spices in a different fashion, focusing more on the savory meat and evoking sour flavors using vinegar; it took them the three incense sticks to teach the cooks how to prepare it, but that meant that by the time the food was ready they’d all regained their appetites.

“Aren’t there medical cuisines, too?” Wen Ning asked Wen Qing, slurping up the thick noodles that Qishan people apparently couldn’t do without but which at least were swimming in a proper soup for once. “To strengthen the muscles, replenish the blood, that sort of thing.”

“There are,” she said, looking thoughtful. “I’ll ask my teachers about it.”

“Can I come?” Nie Huaisang asked, and it was so unexpected for him to ask to take more classes that Nie Mingjue dropped the piece of meat he’d been dipping right into the sauce. “Hey, food is good! How boring can a class on food be?”

“I’m always willing to encourage your interest in things,” Nie Mingjue said, and everyone laughed at him even though he was being sincere. “I’m sure you’ll be an excellent chef someday, Huaisang, if that’s what you like.”

“You’re just calculating whether wielding a kitchen knife still counts as cultivating,” Wen Xu said with a smirk, which of course meant that Nie Mingjue held out his hands and pointed out that the Nie were butchers, after all, and that in turn made Nie Huaisang start complaining that cooking and butchering weren’t the same thing in the slightest. Wen Qing, Wen Ning, and Wen Chao laughed at each of them equally, adding unhelpful comments all the while.

By the time they went to their afternoon lessons, it was as if Wen Ruohan hadn’t been there at all.

[pynkhues]

what do you think was the symbolism of the "they like you on red" line? i didn't really get that part but saw someone saying that "it was a nice touch". i just thought it meant that women liked beth in red and nothing else but i guess i was wrong.

Hi hi! I think it's one of those lines that can mean whatever you want it to mean, anons, but there's definitely a lot that can be read into it as cinema has what we tend to call a 'colour language'. In that, colours have certain meanings that years of visual storytelling has effectively canonised, and it means that shows and movies use those colours to tell us things about the characters, themes, relationships and story overall.

There's a really good, short, introductory article about it here on No Film School, and I'd really recommend watching the video there too as it's a lot of fun, but for the colour red, it boils down to this:

RED – anger, passion, rage, desire, excitement, energy, speed, strength, power, heat, love, aggression, danger, fire, blood, war, violence

All of the core six characters have worn red at varying points in the series, and I'd say it has a different meaning in each of the characters. For Ruby and Stan for instance, they very frequently wear red at the same time, which, in my reading, gives those scenes a strong thematic throughline of strength, unity and love and shows them as partners in their relationship.

Beth's relationship with the colour red though is, I think, a really defined one across the series, and the show drawing attention to it through that exchange with Beth and Nick was interesting, because it was rooted in Nick trying to control Beth's image, and Beth rebuking that by saying she doesn't wear red, which is a lie. Red is probably the colour she wears third most after black and blue, and it's a colour that's had significance for her since the start.

Namely, it's a colour heavily associated with Beth's relationship to power – both the loss and the gain of it, and frequently as a one-two punch in the same sequence.

As the series has progressed, it's gotten more nuanced with how it utilises red on Beth, moving from feature to trimmings as her wardrobe increasingly darkens as she further emulates Rio, but it's meaning I think is fundamentally the same. Beth has a complicated relationship with power, and that's realised through the way she wears red.

This has actually been there since 1.02, and has been a regular touchstone, so hey, let's take a look at that a bit:

In s1, the colour is much more the focal point because I think Beth's relationship to power was a lot simpler. She either had some, or she had none, and so the boldness of the red was really about encapsulating these moments when she felt powerful or powerless. We see that I think especially in the scenes where she's both – like how Rio's arrival in both 1.02 and 1.07 shifts the balance away from her.

In a lot of ways, s2 is an extension of that dynamic, but as the power plays between Beth, Rio, Turner and Dean all escalate, the use of red in the costume team is even more defined. This becomes particularly clear in moments like 2.03 when Beth gets the key from Rio, the entirety of 2.04 where the pendulum swings between her and Rio and her and Dean, and especially in 2.10, where Beth wears red almost the entire episode. Notably, it's an episode where she has almost no power at all, and she chafes against that until her showdown with Turner at the end of the episode.

S3 meanwhile massively pulls back on the red. It features in a few pivotal moments, particularly in the middle of the season, but otherwise is pretty absent from Beth's wardrobe overall. Again though, the outfits that incorporate red are tied to not just power, but control as well. Her red floral sweater in 3.01 is something she wears across the episode as she tries to build her operation and, successfully, maintain the balance in her life, and when the colour comes back into her wardrobe in 3.07 and 3.08, it's when she's starting to regain a degree of control.

And then s4! Red's back! And interestingly, with the exception of the dream sequence, it's always paired with black – with black as a base colour, a blazer, or the pyjamas underneath her robe.

Red in s4 I think evolves to not just be about power, but the way the line has blurred between the personal and the public, the criminal and the domestic. The maroon robe in particular is frequently worn by Beth at really pivotal moments where this happens – when she thinks she's about to be arrested only for Dean to be, when Rio delivers her the new plates, when she finds out Annie's been kidnapped, when Rio returns to her what he stole.

This blurring of lines is more than just the blurring of these spaces, it's the blurring of how one impacts her power in the other. Her getting rid of the Canadian money professionally led to a loss of power in her personal life by Rio taking Annie, just like how her personal conflict with Stan led to her leaning into her personal power over Phoebe to get the fake cash back for Rio, which in return led to him giving her more professional power again with the plates.

Red is a power colour, and it's considered one as much in real life as it is in cinematic language, and it's one the show often leans into (gosh, even look at Beth and Stan's fight in 4.09 where he's wearing red as he holds the power, and Beth black with only the smallest trimmings of it as she loses it).

The scene with Nick and Beth, like I said above, was sort of encapsulating all of this. Nick wants Beth to dress a certain way as a means to demonstrate his own influence (even if he does it through the constituents), and Beth balks because she doesn't like being told what to do anymore. I think it can be read just on that level, but I think the show has consciously and purposefully built a thematic narrative for Beth through the colour red too, and I think that's pretty fun to pick apart, especially given she, in true Beth form, rebels and wears pink instead.

[the-ghost-of-jason-todd]

aight SO

i finished ep 12 and i've talked about it with a friend, and now i've also taken a look into the tarlos tag to get a sense of what people are saying. i think i'm ready to break this down.

so there are a few big questions about That Scene and the following tarlos interactions. i'll just work through them one at a time. buckle in, this is gonna get long. now without further ado...

1) Was TK lashing out at Carlos at the firehouse in character?

Short answer: yes and no.

Long answer: we've seen TK get physical and even violent before. He literally sought out a bar fight in s1. He nearly got into a fist fight with Judd, too. And did you see the way he was hurling darts after that, when he and Carlos were on their date? This boy is not a stranger to getting physical. There are, however, a few major differences between those scenes and this one with Carlos.

One. The bar fight was premeditated, while his fight with Carlos was not. Why is this important? Because it means that TK has shown some measure of restraint in the past. He managed to stay present during what I would call the 'trigger' of the bar fight episode, and saved his physical response for a later time.

Two. His altercation with Judd, on the other hand, was not premeditated. The difference, then, is that Judd was also ready to get physical at the time. With the scene with Carlos, Carlos was trying to remain calm and impartial for most of it, and attempted to de-escalate when TK got violent. The whole thing was driven by TK.

Three. In none of the scenes we've seen before of TK getting violent has his dad's health or safety been threatened. TK's dad is a HUGE part of his life, and he has a LOT of emotional trauma surrounding his relationship with his dad. He's TERRIFIED of losing Owen, because he's nearly lost him so many times before. TK has some MAJOR anxiety about losing people, to the point where he refused to let Carlos into his heart at the beginning of s1. There's also the fact that TK has gone through a lot of trauma in not a lot of time. Even if the show wants us to believe the kidnapping is over, I'm willing to bet that the after-effects are still hitting. For both TK AND Carlos, honestly.

There are also two other lines to consider when we're talking TK's characterization: first, in the episode when Gwyn moves out, and we see her and TK talking, she then calls Owen who asks if TK 'flew off the handle' (i believe that was the wording, correct me if I'm wrong). This is important because we have two people who are VERY close to TK talking about how he reacts to things, the crux of which is that TK gets reactionary. He has high emotional responses and says (or does) things that he doesn't necessarily mean.

Then there's another line that I think is important. This is the one in the crossover episode, when TK tells Buck that he's 'done a lot worse than steal a fire truck'. This one is important because it's TK talking about HIMSELF. We don't have any context for this or what it means, necessarily, but I'm willing to bet from context that he wasn't just talking about ODing.

So with all this in mind... do I think TK was in character? Do I really think TK would do this? Well... it makes sense in the context of TK's story and his arcs and all the scenes we've seen him in so far. But, at the same time, I would definitely have done it differently. It's a thing like... it's not a WRONG answer, but then again, was it really right, either?

2) Was Carlos's reaction to TK lashing out in character?

Short answer: yeah, I think so*.

*though if they don't expand on it I'm gonna have a problem.

Long answer: Carlos, at this point in the story, is dealing with two things that I think impact his emotional landscape a HELL of a lot.

One. His past and his family. He grew up with a man who seems emotionally distant, and it has only VERY RECENTLY started to get better. He felt INCREDIBLY alienated after he came out, and then when he became a cop and he was dealing with his father's silent disapproval. He is always searching for approval and, most likely, affection as well. What this means is that he feels like he constantly needs to prove himself, and bases his self worth on how OTHER people react. If someone reacts badly, that's a mark against himself.

"But Kay," you say, "What about the scene where he made dinner for TK and TK walked out? Carlos didn't blame himself then!"

Which is an interesting point! Carlos didn't put the onus on himself in that scene, he turned it back on TK, calling him 'crazy'. I think that was a secondary coping mechanism, to be honest. He knew he couldn't deal with feeling like he was the one who was wrong AGAIN so he twisted the situation around in his head until it was TK who was 'being crazy'. I've talked about that scene in depth before so I won't do it again, but Carlos's reaction is, I think, indicative of having felt rejection before and trying to protect himself.

Which brings me to number two. The fact that he's nearly lost TK several times already. This plays a HUGE role in how Carlos acts, especially with TK. Carlos has wanted TK LITERALLY from day 1, and since then he's nearly lost him how many times??? Enough, at least, that I'm fairly certain he's now holding on too tight, even when it comes back and hurts him. He just... he seems to have this mentality that if he's in he's ALL in, and he's not allowed to back away or put any distance between them, or else he'll lose TK for real.

Because we've seen TK pull back and get some distance before. We saw TK take a night away after their fight about the farmer's market. Maybe not with the best communication, but TK was angry and he needed space, so he left. When he did that, however, Carlos was convinced that they were breaking up. Like, CONVINCED. You cannot tell me that Carlos didn't think the worst in that moment.

Now why is THIS important? Easy. Because Carlos and TK may be moving forward in their relationship, but they are at a point right now where they react to things in fundamentally different ways. TK kind of bounces between becoming reactionary and going distant (again, we saw this in s2ep8 very clearly), while Carlos has reached a point where he kind of doubles down on holding tightly to TK even when he maybe shouldn't.

Basically, when you boil all this down, Carlos is DESPERATELY trying not to rock the boat, with his parents OR with TK, because he's scared of everything coming apart. And I think that makes sense with this episode.

The problem, then, is that this is a coping mechanism. The narrative has set it up as such. Which means that he's going to have to address it at some point. If he doesn't, I will be FUCKING PISSED, believe you me.

3) Did the narrative address that scene with respect, dignity, and nuance?

Short answer: I DON'T THINK SO.

Long answer: TK is human. He's a recovering addict. He's had problems with feeling numb in the past (that line about how everything is gray), which, I think, makes his feelings just THAT MUCH BIGGER when he does have them. So clearly, he's going to make mistakes. The question then is, was this particular mistake something he's learned from, or was it just used for the drama?

I have two reasons to believe it was the latter rather than the former.

One. Judd's reaction. Judd telling Carlos to get out of the firehouse after TK hit him, as if Carlos was the bad guy in that situation, was dramatic as hell. TK and Carlos are pitted against each other in that moment, and instead of mediating, Judd picked a side. Which is, ironically enough, the first thing that I think was NOT in character in that scene.

Judd, we know, is a bit of a hot-head, but he's also very empathetic. Judd was shown trying to mediate between Billy and Owen the last time the two of them had an episode together, because he understood both sides of the story and he cared for both of them. Why do I think it should have been the same this time? Well, because he loves TK and Carlos BOTH. They were both in the group hug at the hospital after the Ryder's car crash. It wasn't like Carlos stayed back, okay--JUDD CARES FOR BOTH OF THEM. And I think, at that point, that Judd would have seen the fact that TK was spinning out and Carlos was trying to stay objective and known that he needed to de-escalate. It would have been SO EASY to have that line be "Okay, okay, both of you step back and take a breather." He could EASILY have mediated. But he didn't. And that was a specific choice that leans more toward drama than anything else.

Which brings me to number two. The fact that they don't talk about it on screen. We had a hand-wavey 'we agreed no apologies' and a hot and heavy make-out scene instead. The writers wanted the drama of the two of them being in bed together while the fire started, and in order to do that they sacrificed the screen time it would have taken to actually have them have a conversation. Because, again, it would have been SO EASY to write them actually talking about it. They've done it before! After their fight about the farmer's market and Carlos's parents, the two of them have a WONDERFUL conversation. Why then and not now? Well, to make the fire more dramatic, to up the stakes one more time.

So no. I don't think there was any respect. I don't think there was any nuance. TK made a mistake, because he's human and he has some problems with emotional regulation, but there were little to no repercussions for it where there really should have been. There was no respect coming from the firefam for Carlos, either. There were no apologies, or further comments, or anything. And honestly... this season has done a lot toward making me feel like they don't give a shit about violence. Judd hitting that kid in the bear trap in the wild fire episode, Judd hitting the drunk driver who drove him off the road, Judd punching Billy when he thought he was framing Owen, and now TK hitting Carlos... all with no repercussions or apologies or even discussions about them... it's not a good look.

And there you have it. The writing makes sense. It does. But it's also really clear that the writers' priorities have changed. I really, honestly feel like the show has lost something since season 1. There's been a massive tonal shift, and I don't like it. The fact that we keep having Event after Event with no reprieve, have sacrificed conversations and interpersonal relationships for Drama, and have started killing and maiming characters with wild abandon, sometimes with seemingly no reason... it's all just a Lot. I have enjoyed watching season 2, but it's not sticking the same way as season 1 did. I'm not letting myself get attached to characters at this point because clearly we're not in a found family show anymore. I don't care about them the same way I did before. I can’t bring myself to do it when it’s becoming clear that we’re not going to slow down and actually process anything anytime soon.

[softly-savage-mint-yoongi]

Allotrope Christmas Special

Genre: Idolverse Pairing: Kim Junmyeon (Suho) x reader Words: 2.7k Warnings: Fluff. Smut. Happy endings. Authors Note: Merry Christmas! I wanted to share this gift with everyone for the holidays. I am such a sucker for my own story and the characters and I felt like it would be really rewarding to get to see into their future in one way or another, and so this was born. I always knew in my head how their life together would progress and what it might be like- it’s been exciting to be able to write this and now, to share it!

You smile before your eyes even open, drifting to consciousness with delighted glee buzzing along your skin. When you finally open them, your smile broadens. It’s still dark, barely five hours have passed since you fell asleep to the soft glow of white Christmas lights hanging around the bedroom. There’s excitement humming in your bones, a feeling you try to quell while your lover sleeps beside you, but the feeling erupts from your throat and manifests as a grin too wide for your lips and a wiggle in your shoulders. You’re in your happy place. It’s- you check your phone- five nineteen in the morning on your favorite holiday with your favorite person still sound asleep beside you. Except that he isn’t, you realize, when a tiny mumble slips past his pouted lips. Turning to him as you coax yourself to relax back into the linens, your smile remains. Your fingers rise to his hand, tucked in front of his chest where it landed after it slipped from your waist when you woke. His skin is silky smooth, chocolate hair just as silky fluffed about with the natural wave it carries. His lashes are long, catching the faintest glow of the warm amber light hanging from the headboard. With pink lips, his pucker continues to twitch in his dreams. Every nuance of his brings a smile to your lips and love to your heart, as dumb and corny as that sounds. Every simple thing, like the way he always flexes his toes before he lets his feet hit the floor in the morning, or the way he always stirs drinks counterclockwise three times before tapping the straw or spoon against the rim twice. At how he seems particularly happy during the early afternoons, in his own words his favorite time of day because he isn’t hungry and work is almost over so he is more productive. Things you’ve spent nearly three years getting to know, the last year of which has been spent living together in what used to be just your apartment. He moved in just after the new year, almost a year after you said your first ‘I love you’s. A laugh bubbles from your throat, remembering the first time you saw him doing his skincare routine. Hilarious and meticulous as it may be, it has grown into a beneficial routine of pampering for both of you. You recall how his skin felt under your palms just a few hours ago. The way you worshipped one another under the same glowing lights in your shared bed, naked as the angels themselves and singing praises to the heavens just the same. As if being called to life at the memory, desire for him stirs in your gut. You wonder if he is too tired or if he might be so inclined to give you a gift this early on Christmas. Unable to help yourself, your fingertips graze the side of his face, physically admiring his angelic beauty with a quiet, breathy chuckle. “Mm… ‘S funny?” he mumbles, the center of his brow twitching a fraction. His fist clenched the duvet, followed by a deeper scowl on his brow as he noticed it was not where he left it. With his eyes still closed, he splayed his fingers and reached out toward you, humming with content when he felt the warmth of your skin. Your smile grows wide again, excitement unsetting and freed once more by the simple interaction. “I am just so very much enamored with you, Kim Junmyeon. That’s all.” His brows fluctuate their shape into one of surprise, and he peeks one eye open at you, unable to stop the smile that forms. “Well good morning to you too, sweetheart.” He says with an air of smug happiness. Free to express your love for him, your fingers now find themselves pressed to his hairline briefly before you drag his bangs out of his face, giving his scalp a good scratch along the way. Junmyeon sighs with delight. He rises on one shoulder, side-eyeing the lights still glowing around the room as he stoops his head to yours and plants a soft kiss directly to your lips. Then another when your head lifts from your pillow to chase his lips, and a third when your arm snakes around his neck. His eyes find yours, wide awake. He searches briefly in silence for an answer to the question he doesn’t ask. When he finds it, he smiles, rolling himself over you completely. You hunger for his lips, more and more until the space between your bodies is nonexistent and you part only to breathe. “Merry Christmas,” you whisper against his lips as your fingers climb his shoulders. He is adjusting the linens swirled around his hips when a thought hits him. Junmyeon’s body stills momentarily, lagging in motion as he thinks. Suddenly, he reaches his arm across his side of the bed, struggling to grapple with the knob of his bedside table without rolling you on top of him, a thought you consider while you wait. His head turns back over his shoulder and he levels you with a heavy stare, locked in his uncomfortable position. It feels like the moment drags on for a long time, but you feel no signs of something wrong from him. You know him well enough to notice when he is working up his nerve. He leans back over to you with one hand strategically behind his back, “Close your eyes.” You obey his command immediately, curious at his shenanigans. “Why do I have to close my eyes for a Christmas present?” “Because I love you,” he starts, and his voice sounds shaken. Puzzled, you wait for instructions. They come in the form of a deep breath from him before you feel his fingers on your cheek. “Because I want to surprise you, and most of all, because I cannot fathom spending the rest of my life without you.” You’re certain the way your eyes pop open is not at all graceful or beautiful, but he is smiling at you for all he is worth anyway. In his free hand, is a small blue velvet box, and nestled inside of it is a shining diamond ring. After many attempts to catch your breath and form words, all you can manage is a feeble “What are you saying?” In slow motion you notice how the apples of his cheeks are tinged a rosy color that spreads to his ears and his neck, much the way he blushed the very first night you met. “I am asking, or begging or pleading for you to say yes.” You are still stunned and unable to respond for a second longer than his nerves can bear, so he babbles a little, “Please, please be my wife. Let me make you as happy as you make me and let me keep loving you.” He winces at how hard your palms come to grasp both of his cheeks in your palms. Perhaps you’re a bit nervous as well, too energized to control your movements with as much precision as usual. Rather than words, your body lifts to crash your lips to his as your arms curl around his shoulders. He kisses you back with fervor, clutching your naked back in his hand to keep you grounded against him. He kisses you harder, faster, with as much passion as he can muster with his whole body shaking just slightly. Your fingers smooth down his arms, to his hand clutching the soft blue box, holding onto it tightly. When you part from him, eyes absorbing every minute detail of the moment, his eyes are large and round and soft. Fragile with emotion and the glittering of tears he refuses to let fall or acknowledge at all because he knows how cliché it would be. It takes a moment for him to realize what you’re waiting for, until you ask. “What are you waiting for?” Junmyeon blinks at you and smiles, fumbling, “Oh, is that a ‘yes’?” His reaction and bashful smile are infectious, pulling a genuine laugh from your chest loud enough to wake your neighbors, “Oh my goodness,” you grab his cheeks again, “Yes, you goof!” Your lips smear against his in an effort to defend yourself from your own tears, and you both laugh. The sound is breathy and refreshing, smiling like idiots too in love to stop kissing long enough for him to slip the ring onto your left ring finger. The first thing you do once it’s on, is lay your palm flat against his chest, over the space where his heart beats strong and steady. Where it beats honestly, reassuring in the comfort of every pulse that gives him life. Your eyes catch his briefly, lit up like Christmas lights as he watches you admire the diamond there. “Well,” he whispers, unsure whether to continue, “how does it look?” You grin in return before schooling your expression into one of mock concern, “I’ve got bad news,” you sigh dramatically, “I’m afraid it looks like you’re going to be stuck with me for the rest of your life.” Junmyeon snorts in jest loudly in the intimate space of the bedroom, tossing his head back with mirth. When he returns to you, he shakes his hair from his eyes, and his lips pucker in an attempt to keep himself from smiling so hard he can’t see. “I’m glad you like it,” he declares, relief flooding his shoulders. Then he bends to steal a kiss from your lips, pulling away with only enough space to form words. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.” He comments quietly, looking at you until it becomes too much to bear and his lips need to descend upon yours once more. It doesn’t take long to rekindle the fire from minutes ago, sparked brighter with the new affirmation of your love with the engagement. In the three years you’ve been doing this, with practiced ease you fall deeper in love with him every day. Junmyeon leans over you, slowly forcing your back into the soft linens and using one hand on your knee to spread your legs wider for him. “Time for another present,” he winks with a gentle laugh as he sinks to his abdomen on the bed. Your lover pulls your hand to him, letting his thumb catch against the ring he just gave you with a smile before he tugs your fingers to his head. He sighs in pleasure with the first tug on his hair not a minute later, tongue, nose and chin wet with your arousal and his saliva. Not that you need it, but two fingers stoke the flame of desire in your core as your hips struggle to stay on the mattress. Junmyeon swears every sound you make is more holy than any hymns the angels could sing today, every touch of your skin a greater gift than the birth of God himself, not that either of you are practiced believers. Just before you’re sent toppling over the edge, he removes his tongue and his fingers- stifling your whine of despair with his lips and the ache in your core with an easy slide of his cock that has you gasping into his mouth. You can’t count how many times you’ve done this with him. Can’t even count the times you’ve had him like this in your shared bed, let alone every other place. Even so, something is different about this time. Magical, you are sure with or without the engagement ring glittering from your finger. Perhaps it’s the pure joy of Christmas morning, coupled with your affection and utter devotion to one another that sends you toppling over cloud nine in less than a minute. The fullness of your heart, fit to burst so it spills tears down your cheeks when it overflows. Junmyeon wipes every one of them away, kissing your lips, your cheeks, your forehead and the tip of your nose as he chases you slowly into blissful oblivion. His release is quiet and gentle, buried completely with his free hand touching your cheek so delicately. As if he is holding your soul, as he sometimes does when he is so tangled in feelings he knows words can’t express. Your own hand rises to rest over his, stroking the knuckles and watching his head lift from your neck. Although dark naturally, his eyes hold a sparkling that lights him up like every Christmas tree in the city. Every bulb on every string of them around your apartment is no match for the beauty he holds. He takes a moment to admire the way your ring catches the lights behind your head, humming his appreciation. “I love you,” he confesses, turning his hand from your cheek to catch your fingers, “I am honored and, admittedly, a little amazed, that you’re mine.” A smile forms on your lips, “I think the honor is all mine.” _____________________________________ Days later, your fiancée sits beside you at the large round dinner table. The setting is beautiful. High class with tablecloths as white as the snow on the ground outside, accented with black linens and seasonal flora in golden vases around the grand ballroom. Expensive and classy are the words that best describe the scene in your mind. They pale in comparison to the man beside you. The one with golden skin and dark hair swept to the side stylishly atop his head. He’s wearing a tuxedo with his own expensive watch and cufflinks to give the image his own style. His brothers talk loudly with him, seated at the table for ten. Some of the chairs are empty, scooted from the table or not quite pushed in all of the way at odd angles. Empty, but no less warm or inviting knowing they belong to people who will return to them when food reaches the table. Junmyeon keeps your left hand with him beneath the table. He holds it gently, absentmindedly spinning your engagement ring around your finger while he talks. After dinner, you dance, reflecting on your years with him. With the other familiar and friendly faces of his company, and the sense of pride that you’ve grown so much in the time you’ve spent with him. The first time you came to an event with him, the fear of gazes that pass over you now seemed so silly. You greet them all with a smile, pressed close to the love of your life, feeling comfort and ease with the joy you see in each of the people that notice the ring on your finger. Most that you recognize already knew before this party, but the reassurance that each one resonates such approval and happiness on your behalf makes you giddy with excitement all over again. You dance late into the night with several of his brothers, each stealing you away with the promise to do it all over again at your wedding, quipping Junmyeon’s protests with the truth that he will get to dance with you forever so it is important that they steal you away for a dance at the few meaningful evenings. Neither of you says a word of protest when his youngest brother reaches for your hand last, although it doesn’t stop any of you from grinning and laughing when you take his hand and he leads you back to the dance floor. Just as the your dance with Sehun begins to come to a close, the lights dim and a shower of white lights litter the space above the ballroom. A countdown begins on a screen high on the far wall and people- yourself included- rush to their loved ones for the grand finale. The kiss to end one year and ring in a new one. You don’t remember the countdown ending, because Junmyeon finds you and catches your waist at seven seconds, and his lips find yours at six and they don’t stop until after the gold confetti that rained down at midnight has stopped. And just like that, you enter your fourth year with the love of your life, ready to count for many, many more.

[orangerosebush]

What’s in a name?

[ao3 link]

Juliet Butler was used to sharing. The weight of her last name. Her brother. Her space within the manor. It seemed that just by being born at this time, within this family, she was expected to follow a certain path in life that was so far tangled up in the Fowls as to not really be hers at all.

It didn’t surprise her brother when she sat him down at age 18 and told him she was going to try a crack at something new in America with the wrestling circuit, but it did surprise him when she came back a mere three years later. It was shortly after when Artemis checked into the psychiatrist in Haven — she had come to the clinic with Butler and Artemis, and she took the shuttle back to the manor with Butler.

Butler didn’t want to say anything too pointed. They’d have to talk about if she was here to stay for good eventually, but she had just gotten back; he knew that she was proud enough that she’d pack her bags again if she felt he was suggesting her experiment in the U.S. with carving her own path had failed.

So they didn’t talk about it. They both went on, carefully watching each other as they circled around the elephant in the room.

It had been a week since she arrived at the manor, and it looked like they could avoid the subject altogether if they tried hard enough. Their patterns during the day were certainly different enough that they could rely on their interactions being brief enough to make having a conversation about what Juliet was going to do easy to sidestep.

He was far busy enough trying to explain to Mrs. Fowl why her son was staying with a psychologist a few thousand kilometers under the earth’s surface. Neither the mental health conversation nor the magic conversation was going particularly well, he winced. Of course, Mr. Fowl was significantly out of the loop, but he’d never really been in any loop regarding his son. At least with Myles and Beckett, he could trust that Juliet was enough of a distraction from Artemis’ second leave of the family. Both the boys had noticed, of course, that their brother was gone again, but they were too dazzled by the newness of Juliet to ask either their mother or him about where Artemis was.

Butler leaned back in his chair, looking out of his room’s window at the sunlight. The clouds had cleared for the first time in a while, and the Fowl estate sprawled out across the surrounding acres of land. The wing that his room was in faced the old forest on the grounds, and he could just about make out the distant scene of Juliet and the boys by the pond at the edge of the trees. Juliet appeared to be allowing Becket to sit on her shoulders while Myles sat on the grass and looked at the water.

He smiled to himself, feeling the lines under his eyes crease upwards. From a distance, she could have been their older sister. Pulling his eyes away from the glass, he glanced back at the inside of the room. He sighed. Rolling his shoulders, he reached for the book he’d set down on his coffee table last night.

⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢ The manor was quiet. Juliet paused at the bottom of the staircase, hand ghosting over the handrail. If she looked close enough, she could make out the scuffs that Artemis and her brother weren’t quite able to get out of the wall after the troll wrecked the hallway during the hostage situation. She exhaled slightly, a grin quirking the sides of her mouth upwards as she imagined Artemis getting snippy over her usage of ‘hostage situation’. “Please, Juliet,” she remembered him sighing a while back. “It’s rude to leave out the nuance of it all like that”.

She tightened her grip on the banister. Slowly, Juliet made her way up towards her room.

⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢

There was a knock on the door. Butler set his book on his lap.

“Come in,” he called out, fully prepared to see Angeline.

The door opened cautiously, and there was Juliet, her hand lingering on the doorknob.

“Hey,” she scuffed her feet against the carpet. Butler blinked.

“Er, hi.”

They both stood there, self-consciously waiting for the other to say something.

“I took the twins outside.”

“I saw. They seemed to have a good time.”

Juliet shrugged, finally walking all the way in to the room. Letting the door close slowly behind her, she sat down gently on the edge of his bed. “Yeah, I guess. They like the pond. I remember liking getting into whatever was muddiest on the property when I was their age.”

He grinned. Butler remembered taking Juliet outside to run before dark when she was young — she’d always had a wild child energy to her.

“Beckett reminds me of you,” he smiled. “He’s very determined to find trouble somewhere on the grounds I’ve worked so hard at child-proofing.”

Juliet rolled her eyes. “They’re both troublemakers.”

“True,” Butler laughed, leaning back in his chair. Juliet grinned. She stretched slightly, flopping back onto the bed.

“It’s weird being back,” she sighed. “Like, I’m back in my old room, and what’s still up on the wall? The Spice Girls poster I had when I was, what, eight? It’s like a time capsule I don’t even want.”

“I’m sure most twenty-somethings coming back from university feel the same way about seeing the stuff they plastered up all over their room when they were younger,” he chuckled softly.

At that, she sat back up to look at him, putting her weight on her right arm. “I’m not most twenty-somethings, though. I didn’t even go to uni—“

Butler scrunched his face up in confusion. “Do you even want to go to uni?”

Juliet groaned, gripping the duvet in annoyance. “I don’t know if I want to go to uni, that’s the thing! I thought I wanted to go to America, be a wrestler, but then something happened with Artemis. And, a-and I was sitting in the hospital cafeteria with Mulch, and you know what I realized? I’d tried professional wrestling, and now I was bored! I love wrestling! I love my teammates! I love traveling and seeing new people, and getting to be Juliet instead of Juliet Butler. But I still woke up each day loving the gig a little less than I did the night before, and I can’t live like that. You know that, Dom.”

Juliet’s eyes were shining, and she loosened her grip on the bed sheets. Butler set his book down gently on the floor. Standing slowly, his knees cursing him, he moved to sit next to her.

“I missed you,” he said simply. “I’m sorry about America.”

She reached over, putting her hand on his shoulder. “I missed you, too.”

“I want you to know that you can stay as long as you need. I can also help you find an apartment nearby if what you need to is to be here without being here, if that makes sense.”

Juliet let out a small grin, retracting her hand from his shoulder to rub the wetness from her eyes. “I like my old room, but thanks.”

She grabbed a pillow, holding it on her lap and looking up at the ceiling pensively. “I don’t want to just be a Butler for Myles and Beckett, though. That’s never going to be me, I know that.”

“I know. I think the Fowls know that, too.”

Juliet nodded earnestly. “Cool. That’s good.”

“Thank you for talking to me about this, by the way,” Butler sighed, looking at her.

“I don’t care what happens — at the end of the day, I’m still your older brother. I want you to let me in when you’re hurting—“ Juliet scoffed, but he continued. “I know you’re not a child anymore, I know that! But I hate the idea of you feeling as though you have to go it alone because you need to prove something to the world,” he finished, eyes pleading.

The two of them sat in silence, the sound of birds outside filtering into the room the only noise in the room. Finally, Juliet sighed, leveling her gaze on him.

“Okay.”

He started. “O-okay?”

She snorted, throwing her pillow at him. “Yeah, okay, nerd. I’ll keep you in the loop.”

Butler caught the pillow, laughing incredulously. “Okay!”

Suddenly, Juliet’s eyes widened. “I still have to tell my manager that I’m dropping out, shit”

Butler stared at her. “You didn’t tell him?”

She waved a hand dismissively. “I think he knows, considering it’s been, what, a couple of weeks by now? But after you showed up,” she jabbed him with a finger pointedly. “I was so caught up in whatever end-of-the-world business Artemis had gotten us caught up in that I never gave my ‘official’ two-weeks notice, or whatever.”

Butler sat there in silence for a moment, thinking. “I… don’t think you should call him, actually.”

“Me neither.”

“I think he’s going to be pissed.”

“Wow, really? Because I think he’ll be psyched one of the best acts in the group just dropped out without letting him know. Dom, obviously I’m gonna get yelled at by him if I so much as look at my phone.”

A side of Butler’s mouth quirked upwards. “One of the best acts?”

Juliet sniffed. “I was being humble. I’m a Butler, it’s clear I’m the best.”

At that, he laughed, and she shoved him. “Shut up! I am going to let him know eventually. I’m telling Sam that I’m not rejoining the troupe tonight—”

“Sam?” Butler frowned, and Juliet stuck her tongue out at him.

“Don’t be annoying. She’s my teammate. You saw her and I sparring before you dragged me off to Haven. We’re scheduled for matches together, so she, out of everybody, deserves to know first about my decision,” she chided.

“I wasn’t prying!” Butler said defensively.

“Fiiiine, you weren’t prying,” Juliet teased. Butler rolled his eyes.

“So, she’s your teammate. That’s nice! I’m glad you have friends in the troupe.” Butler tossed the pillow back to its original place on his bed.

“Yeah, it is nice. She’s cool, you’d like her. It’s… stupid, but I already kind of miss her,” Juliet’s tone softened. Butler’s eyes widened slightly. Oh.

“You could ask her to visit sometime, if you’d like,” he offered, trying to be nonchalant.

Juliet hummed. “Maybe. I’ll see how things go tonight with her.”

With that, she stood up from the bed. “I’m going to get ready for dinner. I think we’ve had enough awkward sibling heart-to-heart conversations for today,” she grinned, and Butler knew that eventually, things would be okay. Maybe they wouldn’t go back to normal, but that was okay. He had his sister back.

Pausing at the door, Juliet turned to face him. “It’s nice to be back home with you, Dom.”

He smiled. “Love you, too, Jules”

Juliet grinned, closing the door after her, and Butler was left alone. The sun was starting to get low in the sky, and the light cast shadows across his room.

He picked up his book again, running his fingers down the spine to stop at the name of the author. Violet Tsirblou. The book was, in all honesty, quite bad. The dialogue was awkward, the plot stilted, and the characters alien-feeling. Butler felt the smile lines on his face deepen. Artemis must have written it when he was about ten.

Butler put his hand on the window sill, his gaze falling on the pond. Myles and Beckett. Artemis and Juliet.

It would all be okay, in the end. It had to be. Butler let his hand fall from the sill. Sitting back down tiredly, he opened the book to where he had left it.

[arizona-trash-bag]

I can totally explain a bit of my thinking behind seeing lwj as autistic and wwx as autistic/adhd!! Before I get into specifics though, let me preface with where I’m coming from. I first saw CQL and then read the EXR translation of the novel. I prefer MDZS to CQL, but also want to acknowledge that because I do not read/speak Mandarin I am inherently experiencing this story second-hand and therefore am probably missing out on a lot of nuances. I am trying to learn Mandarin, but it will be a long time before I am even a little close to fluent lol.

Another preface- obviously not all autistic people present in the same way, and many of the things that I will mention are not solely specific to autistic people either. It’s one of those things where all of it added up together points towards asd, but each one individually would not on its own indicate asd, you know? Also, I will say that many of the things I picked up on for both characters are autistic traits that many autistic people have vs the clinical characteristics (much like most of the case I could make for wwx’s adhd would be adhd traits he has rather than symptoms that would lead to a real-world diagnosis.) Edit: OH! I almost forgot to say, that also all of these traits I’m listing are from a western perspective, and I would LOVE to read more about how autism presents in different cultures and to see conversations between autistc Chinese people specifically, so as to see if these traits are specific to western autistic people or not, but again, I do not speak Mandarin or Cantonese or any other Chinese dialect, so that’s a little inaccessible for me atm.

Ok, SO, for both characters I would list: strong sense of justice, lack of care for society’s opinion (I feel like it could be argued that lwj does to a certain point, but imo he operates more from what he morally considers to be correct and from a place of familial duty vs catering to the opinion of society at large), and then more vaguely, they both seem to be “nerdy” (this doesnt feel like the most accurate term, especially because it's not like being scholarly is specific to their characters, especially in ancient fantasy China- it’s more that their particular hmmm, flavor?? of love of knowledge feels very neurodivergent to me, vs like, being scholarly because it’s the thing that is expected of a Young Master, if that makes any sense at all- like the difference btwn someone getting an engineering degree because it is expected of them vs because they genuinely love engineering), and lastly for both- I would say that they are canonically kinky, and while I can’t cite any statistics, there’s a pretty high correlation between being autistic and being into kink. Obviously, not every person who is not vanilla is autistic, and not every autistic person is into kink…….but there is a high correlation.

For lwj specifically, the things that made me think he might be autistic are his lack of outward emoting combined with his depth and breadth of emotions, how he seems to thrive in and quite enjoy the very structured environment he grew up in, and then the last one off the top of my head (side note, I feel like a week from now I’m going to randomly think of other examples lol) I’m not actually sure IS an example, because I know (thanks to the awesome post from hunxi that you linked to that I had read previously) that his succintness does not equal autism, but I do kind of feel like it is very autistic to Always be so formal and to Always talk in textbook perfect language.

For wwx, I also think he likely has CPTSD! I’m not going to list anything for adhd or cptsd since we both agree on those :) As far as being autistic goes, there is, of course, the high prevalence of adhd/asd comorbidity. For specifc traits- while autism can show up as lack of facial expressions/tone, it can also show up as being overly exuberant and overexpressive. Especially for younger autistic children this can show up as being overly friendly/no boundaries w/ strangers (just?? going home with a random man who says he knew wwx’s parents???), making unusual connections that others do not can be both asd and adhd, his disregard for social status (disregard might be a strong word, and also I feel like this might be one of those things that got lost in translation and if I had read the original text I might have a different opinon, but what I mean here is the way that often autistic people learn certain social rules and try their best to follow them, but often do not pick up on specifics related to social hierarchy that are not spelled out for them- I think jyl’s take down of jin zixun is a great example of the /oppossite/ of what I’m talking about, and is a very neurotypical interaction. An example also of what I mean by disregard for social hierarchy, but from my own life, is how I’ve reflected on past convos w/ my boss only to realize that what I thought was just an interesting conversation about our opinons on a particular subject was actually them trying to tell-me-as-my-boss something they wanted me to do. We ended up doing things the way I wanted to do them because I didn’t realize that they were telling me to do something because they didnt explicitly say so, and because I just don’t pick up on when people are saying something from a social hierarchy pov. Idk if this makes sense or not, so I’m happy to try to expand if you would like me to. I feel like wwx could be described as having alexithymia, which is very common in autistic people, but could also be due to his cptsd. And then, I don’t feel like this is a true point because it is kind of based on headcanon? but wwx feels very demisexual to me, which is much more common for autistic people than it is for allistic people. But him being demi is not canon, just my perception of him (I see him as demisexual gay w/ massive comphet, but I know lots of people see him as bi, which also totally makes sense!!)

Tbh, I’m having a harder time than I thought I would listing wwx specifics. I might go through the book sometime this weekend and see if there are specific moments that pop out at me, but tbh w/ him its more that he Feels very adhd/asd to me?? Idk, I was diagnosed w/ adhd when I was 8, and all 4 of my siblings plus my father have offical adhd diagnoses. I’m 29 now and was only diagnosed as autistic earlier this year.  All of my close friends have always been either adhd, asd, or adhd/asd. There have been multiple people I have met that I’ve suspected were neurodivergent who have later told me they started looking into it and are now seeking formal diagnoses. I mention these things, only to give full context when I say that I have spent a lot of time observing the differences between interacting with neurotypicals and neurodivergents. I mean, obviously, it’s possible that I could just be projecting, but to me, Wwx gives off late-diagnosed/heavy masker autism/adhd combo vibes. Again, maybe I am projecting, but I did try to analyze whether I was or not previously, and determined that since in the past with other favorite characters (who I probably share more similarities in personality with) I did not feel like they were neurodivergent, so I figured that probably I wasn’t? That feels like a very convoluted sentence, but what I mean is that I have not thought that about other characters who have been my fav, so I figured that while I do project in certain areas that this particular area probably wasn’t one of them. Or, to say it in yet another way, since i did not project any of my neurodivergencies on past favorite characters, I figured I probably didn’t start doing so now.

I would love to hear more of your perspective on this, particularly because I worry that I do not have the cultural touchstones to realize when something wwx or lwj is doing is not actually a sign of being neurodivergent. I try my best to research things I don’t know about and to listen to fans who actually do have that cultural understanding, but there’s only so much I can look into on my own when I only speak/read english. And also, I love mdzs and I love talking about both adhd and autism, so I’m glad to talk about these subjects with someone else who also likes all of those topics :) Sorry for sending a book of a response and also I hope you are having a great day!!

wow wow wow anon THANK YOU for doing your research and acknowledging your blind spots you seriously made my day. I wanted to get to this as soon as I made that rant while sharing cyan’s post bc this is specifically an example of a well researched proposition based on actual lived experience and critical thinking.

I almost want to ask you to come forward so we can take this convo elsewhere for a more nuanced discussion bc you’ve already hit upon an issue that’s been holding me back from making a big blathering masterpost on the matter - that the ND experience is so unique and individual, and no one person can dictate someone else’s experience. at the end of the day, if you personally relate to these characters and gain more understanding of yourself and your experiences from them, who am I to take that away from you?

in a public space though I have to make the discussion very broad in order to accurately contextualize these issues, bc in typical autistic fashion I feel morally compelled to Do My Best and Get It Right even as the masses show no inclination of returning the favor, so apologies for the boring backstories I have to get out of the way before we can approach anything resembling new ground.

first from a diagnostic standpoint, while I recognize the traits you listed (and appreciate your clearly nuanced understanding of ND expressions) and would find value in exploring them in a personal context, they are not unique to adhd and/or autism and wouldn’t constitute a basis for diagnosis in a clinical setting. I know that's probably beside the point for this anon, but there's enough edgy teens hoarding labels out there without tacit encouragement from scientists (yes I am technically a scientist, even though my ideologies these days range from conventional to... wildly esoteric, shall we say)

from a cultural standpoint, it’s important for me to emphasize that the concept of neurodivergence is a uniquely western notion. for those unfamiliar, the term 'neurodiversity' was only coined in 1998. I was born in 1991. I existed for a whole 7 years as an autistic person before the idea of being neurodivergent was even a thing. this ND acceptance thing is very, very new - people were not making tiktok confessionals about their adhd diagnosis journeys when I was growing up.

china, like most asian countries, is about 20 years or more behind on just about every social issue compared with western countries. to better illustrate, the experience of being ND in china falls much closer to the conventional experience of disability (i.e. being eugenicized out of existence) than the tentative ND acceptance movement that’s been kickstarted in the past 20 years in the anglosphere.

safe to say, there is no ND coding going on in chinese media. characters are either explicitly ND or they're not. there's no basis for a creator subtly inducing ND-like traits in a character, because there's no such thing as ND awareness in the cultural context of where mdzs was written and consumed. any resemblance is purely accidental, as they say.

as to how this resemblance could exist - I could go into the layers and layers of historical, cultural, social and religious context that make up these characters and the xianxia genre as a whole. for this anon in particular i'm happy to, because they've done the work. please please get in touch in some way where we can have a fully fleshed out chat if you're interested in taking this further, I realize i’ve basically addressed none of the finer points you’ve raised but honestly it’s another level of discussion to be had that cannot be summarized in one blog post haha.

as for those who would scream 'but special interests!!' at a character whose sect was founded by a literal monk - what would be the point?

PS. to comprise a starting point for why it's possible to see ND4ND everywhere in media if you looked hard enough - I refer you to the seminal red oni blue oni trope 💁‍♀️

[mallowstep]

Do any of Feathertail's kits have a good relationship with Misty? Do they react in different ways when they find out she gave birth to them? Who takes it the hardest?

i wouldn't say any of the kits have a bad relationship with misty. not that you implied that, but -- idk. want to be clear that this is. nuanced.

okay, so. i'm far enough along in the misty au that i'll put "spoilers" under a cut. as always, things aren't final 'til i've published them, but these thoughts are probably 95% stable.

cw: implied/referenced sexual assault

frogheart is the first to connect with mistyfoot in an actively positive way.

(by actively, here, i literally mean that he is the first to take an action that makes a positive connection with her.)

he carries feathertail down the mountain and -- i don't know precisely how a certain person would feel about me identifying them and such, but i hope, should they read this, that they know what an aide and inspiration they were.

onto the point, that means a lot to her. it also puts them in a position to talk. they end up sort of -- trying to keep feathertail's spirits up. because man is she having a terrible time.

"You doing okay?" Feathertail makes a noncommittal sound. "You should probably hold on for this part." "Frogpaw, I'm not going to — claw you." "Well, it's that or I get Mistyfoot to carry you again." Hesitantly, Featherclaw grips into him with her claws. She presses her face between his shoulder blades, and he can feel how much she shakes.

so you know.

i fail for a good word to describe mistyfoot and feathertail's relationship. "mother-daughter" is closest, and accurate, but it's not a word either of them would use to describe it, which makes it feel wrong. i think, to each other, they just are. mistyfoot is simply mistyfoot and in feathertail's world, that is enough to describe her.

but linguistic difficulties aside, it is a positive memory they build together.

to be clear -- like, mistyfoot has positive moments with them before now, but they're not things she actively chooses to engage in. here, she chooses to walk with frogpaw. she starts behind them, but ends up with him, walking shoulder to shoulder. this is what i mean by active.

like, she has a positive moment where hawkpaw is sleeping in her den and she's like, "oh, feathertail is sleeping better than normal, that's good," but mistyfoot doesn't choose to have that, and they don't actually interact.

and after that, it gets a little easier. actually, when feathertail leaves on the quest, mistyfoot begins to have better and better relationships with them. it's a subtle thing, but stormheart and feathertail have vanished, which means mistyfoot and stonefur are the kits' only kin, and they miss their mom.

but again, nothing active happens until the mountain.

once again, i'd like to impress on everyone that like, just over a year has passed since tigerclan. that is -- very little time, for trauma to begin to heal, especially considering that they have no therapists.

anyway. mothwing becoming a medicine cat puts her in necessarily close contact with feathertail, puts her in necessarily close contact with mistyfoot. in an -- entirely different way then before.

my girl has a bit of Medical Trauma and mistyfoot is -- safe.

so.

you know, like, feathertail is in pretty terrible shape when the clans get to the lake territory. not anything like at the end of tigerclan, but she's been separated from everyone she loves for...at least a month? she nearly died, she was given medical treatment by a stranger, she was with tawnypelt for like a month or something before that, you get the idea.

oh and she got to do her Favourite Thing In The Whole World (/s), be carried for an extended period of time.

(yes, it was -- different. but still not fun. not being in control of her own position in space. also lots of -- claws. for Grip purposes. and at times, mistyfoot did have to carry her over gaps, and there's only one way to do that safely.)

so like -- she's really not super in a Great Mood to have serious examinations and medical treatment, which is what she needs.

they all get exposed to a much more vulnerable feathertail, but mothwing is the one who has to see it up close, i suppose.

so she gets probably the best sense of feathertail and mistyfoot's relationship. which isn't the question you were asking, but is relevant that -- okay, backing up, mothwing starts out very tactless

see, they didn't lie to the kits. but there's no good way to explain, to a child, "your birth father raped your birth mother, physically assaulted your adoptive mother, and your birth mother doesn't know how to talk to you but is the person (other than you) your adoptive mother cares about most."

yeah. so -- they do their best, but their best Isn't Great. also because they didn't read the adoption literature i read to think this through.

so mothwing basically runs up to mistyfoot and is like, "right, you gave birth to us, you don't want us as your kids, please tell me more about how we were born."

mistyfoot's response, quite understandably, is basically, "your birth father sucked ttyl bye."

but she does end up...probably the closest to mistyfoot, all things considered. they're -- it starts off as weirdly formal and functional, but it transitions with time.

i'd like to reiterate that while mistyfoot isn't initially able to have a relationship with the kits, she does still love them. she's just not able to have a healthy relationship with them at first.

anyway, as for hawkfrost -- i'm not 100% sure how it all plays out, because i'm still tinkering ideas, and i don't like. this is all very malleable. fair warning.

hawkfrost avoids mistyfoot because of the dark forest stuff. so he ends up being the roadblock at first. i can't tell you super much more because i honestly don't know, but i do know that i like fluffy endings, so they will eventually have a positive relationship.

she actually gets over the "he looks like tigerstar" thing Reasonably quickly. for one, he has blue eyes and a white chest, and a much slimmer build, so he's not a clone. (sorry, brambleclaw. i can't save you. canon has determined your appearance and i said aye! to the angst.)

and -- seeing him as an apprentice sneaking into his mom's bed because he had a nightmare does a Lot for the matter.

so it's just. the whole. (involuntarily) training in hell thing that hawkfrost has to work through, and, should mistyfoot find out, mistyfoot process.

but you know. i'm a sucker for happy endings.

<3

[sokkathebluewolf]

I am chickened out from gladiator because it is this long and it keeps getting longer is it worth my time to read it ??

... Uh, well. I can’t help but wonder if you’re aware this blog is run by the actual author of the story in question? I don’t know if you expect me to give you a non-biased answer when I’ve considered the story was worth 8 years of my life xD as far as I’m concerned, it absolutely has been worth it, but I can’t speak for the whole wide world when it comes to that. If you want the opinions of readers, there’s probably other blogs run by people who have read the story and who might have critical opinions about it... that may be what you were looking for. If, however, you were deliberately hoping to get my opinion on my own story... well, yes, for me it’s clearly worth it xD Otherwise, I would’ve quit ages ago.

The story is indeed very long and it keeps getting longer, and it will keep getting longer because we’re not done yet and won’t be for a while :’D if you’re the type of reader who can’t stand it when they catch up to stories and have to wait for updates, well, feel free to give it a shot when I’m done writing it, I guess? It’ll be a while until then, but it’s up to you. If you don’t like reading really long stories, then it’s probably better for you if you don’t force yourself to read this one, I know not everyone is ready to dedicate that much time to reading something, especially if they have lots of things to do. Hence, if the length daunts you, that’s alright, it daunts me too and I’m responsible for it xD it’s fine if that deters you from reading it.

But as the way you phrased your question almost sounded like you’re challenging me to give you some sort of sales pitch to catch your attention, let’s see if I can pull it off:

Gladiator is a massive ATLA AU, not only in terms of story length but also scope: it’s a complete rewrite of the entirety of ATLA in a more mature setting, starting chapter 1 with the characters 5 years older than they were in canon. Aang’s adventures in saving the world did not take place here because of a simple enough reason: Katara didn’t accompany Sokka on his boat on the fateful day when they were meant to find Aang, which means the story as we’ve known it simply doesn’t take place. I’ve taken liberties here and there, added some changes from canon when I needed to do so, in order to ensure the story works, but the gist of the story is to set a stage where the Fire Nation marched onwards, practically unopposed, and conquered the Earth Kingdom with the power of Sozin’s Comet (just in case it needs to be clarified, without certain technological developments, Ozai’s wild plan to incinerate the whole world wouldn’t happen, and if Team Avatar isn’t assembled before the Comet shows up, said technological developments simply wouldn’t exist... :’D). I’ve had to figure out how many details would change, how much of the original story would or wouldn’t happen without Team Avatar’s involvement, I think most my choices have been solid, but it’ll be up to you to decide if you think they are or not if you read the story.

The worldbuilding of Gladiator, then, is preeeetty huge and complicated because of that starting point. There’s a lot of elements that are completely new (such as the Gladiator League and all its derivates), some OCs, some lore expansion, so you can definitely say it’s an ambitious project. In a sense, I’ve reset canon to zero, and at the same time I haven’t, which makes things complicated but, for me, really fun to develop. If you’re interested in seeing more of the Avatarverse explored, characters repurposed, with new dynamics and relationships, Gladiator may just be what you’ve been looking for :D

In my experience, the main reason why most people stumble into this fic (other than by sorting FF.net’s ATLA stories by review count and drawing blanks upon glimpsing a Sokkla story on the first page xD) is because they’ve been drawn into Sokkla, or they’re looking for stories centered around Azula or Sokka. Gladiator, evidently, features all three such elements because, obviously, those two are the protagonists and their relationship is the beating heart of the whole tale. I’ve been asked in the past who’s the real protagonist and I honestly still have no idea xD but anyways, if you’re interested in reading a story with a toooooon of Azula character development, even if it takes place across a long, long time, this story may just do the trick. I’ve done the best I could to keep her character as true to what I believed a young adult Azula might become, within the circumstances of this story. She has grown a LOT in 200 chapters, goes without saying (if she hadn’t, I’d be one heck of a failure of an author x’D), so if you’re interested in seeing a slow but effective growth arc for Azula, you’ll certainly find that in Gladiator. Same is true for Sokka, but I think most people who come to this fic for Sokka are interested in seeing him being a badass, which we have plenty of as well xD still, it’s also a long and slow process for Sokka to grow into a powerful warrior, neither him nor Azula start out in the story with all the answers, and they both bump into many hurdles as they navigate their complicated lives.

There’s a lot of humor in Gladiator, perhaps more than expected with a story that has that sort of dark premise, but it’s, on great measure, because Sokka and Azula are inevitably given to banter xD if you want to read a lot of banter between those two, well, you may not be bored in 200 chapters because, while the nature of their exchanges does vary as they both develop, their conversations are usually pretty spirited and they love trying to outsmart each other all the time.

If you are already a Sokkla shipper and the main reason you’re here is because you want more Sokkla goodness in your life... I’ll just say Gladiator has become a bit of a dream come true for me as a Sokkla shipper as well, because it’s the perfect space for me to work with virtually every idea I’ve ever had for these two. Yes, there’s drama and conflict here and there, if you’re not too given to angst there’s a few parts of the story that won’t sit so well with you, though if you love angst you’ll probably enjoy them plenty... yet what I’m most proud of, with this story, is having developed their relationship not only as best I could, but I’ve also attempted to defy typical storytelling structures for romance stories, where the lead couple can’t seem to have a stable relationship because “that would be boring”. Screw that, man: these two have been in a serious relationship together in-story by now for well over half the published chapters, and I’ve had the time of my life writing their dynamics as a couple while the plot continues to develop around them. This, however, is not everyone’s cup of tea, so if you aren’t all that given to seeing such traditional romance storytelling structures dismissed because I wanted to write my favorite ship dealing with all their external struggles while finding strength in the bond they share, Gladiator may not hold your attention long enough for you to devote yourself to reading it beyond chapter 100-ish. On the other hand, if this subversion of romance structure is what you’ve been looking for all your life, or if it’s what you always wanted and never knew you wanted it, or if you’re simply curious as to whether it works or not, Gladiator may suit your interests fairly well. Again, Sokkla is the absolute center of this story, both together and independently, so if you want to see a rewrite of ATLA with them at the core of just... everything? xD that’s absolutely what you’ll find here.

That being said, there’s things I guess you should mind about Gladiator: I have some relatively controversial takes about certain things, including interpretations of fan-favorite characters that some people have been known to take offense over. I, personally, believe my interpretations of those characters don’t deviate that much from canon or that, when they do, the setting itself explains why the deviation works as it does, but due to the fact that I work with a protagonist who was in a villainous role back in ATLA, her relationships with some characters can be more complicated than a lot of people seem to believe they should be. Hence, if you’re not particularly adverse to reading content that brings up big questions about the motivations of certain characters, or how they’d react if the story from ATLA hadn’t happened exactly as it did, you’ll have enough fun in Gladiator. If, however, you don’t particularly care to see anything that shows beloved characters in a not-so-flattering light, this story may not be for you (though, if you’re willing to humor me and allow my story to question your perception of those characters, feel free to try the story as well). 

There’s also a variety of dark themes and situations in Gladiator, something that any reader should be warned about in this day and age: I am 100% against violence for the sake of violence, to name one such subject, and I generally try to portray it with as much nuance as possible, but even if I feature my own characters criticizing their violent world and wanting to put an end to the strife caused by the Fire Nation, some of the violence in Gladiator may be a little too much for the readers who prefer the tone of the original ATLA. Hence, if that’s how it is for you, it’s another reason to approach the story with caution. I won’t pretend I’ve handled every theme and subject perfectly, but I’ve never wanted the darker moments to feel gratuitous in any way, so if you’re open to reading a darker take on the Avatarverse, this may work for you after all.

Alas! If you want to see Azula growing out of the toxic Fire Nation indoctrination, if you want to see Sokka gaining confidence and strength as a man and warrior, if you want to see a fleshed-out but still very much villainous Ozai, if you want to see Toph fulfilling her dreams of joining an all-out fighting league where she can beat people up for a living, if you want to see a myriad of secondary ATLA characters (like Song, or Shoji!) given new lives and even genuine protagonism, if you want to see Zuko discovering he’s allowed to just... be happy? xD Gladiator may prove interesting enough for you.

Furthermore, if you want to see Azula being true friends with Mai and Ty Lee, discovering a dragon, developing new firebending styles, confronting her misplaced beliefs about herself, rebelling subtly (and lately, not so subtly) against her father, growing into a great leader who could change the Fire Nation’s nefarious direction...  aaand if you want to see Sokka fighting creatively (sometimes with TWO swords!), navigating the dangerous waters of interacting with Fire Lord Ozai, staying true to his beliefs while also learning that the world is not as black-and-white as he was raised to think it was, understanding himself better and making the most of his potential as a quick learner, writing embarrassing haiku and being an unapologetic rebel who goes toe-to-toe with Heads of State just because he can... yep. Probably read it? xD

Lastly... if you want to see Sokka and Azula grow through their mistakes, learning to understand each other, fighting side by side, training together, dancing to no music, learning the underrated pleasure of proper communication in a relationship, sassing each other left and right, flirting in ridiculous ways, taunting each other in many regards, laughing at each other’s terrible jokes, protecting each other fiercely, challenging each other to a spicy ramen eating contest, discovering indirect bending, being highly inappropriate at times and places where they shouldn’t be, making long, dangerous yet fun journeys together, sneaking around to meet up when they’re not supposed to, standing by each other in their darkest moments, watching over the other when they’re sick/injured, being ready to sacrifice virtually anything for each other, and even defying and defeating even death to save each other...? Well, I don’t know if there’s any other stories where you might find all of this, but I can guarantee you’ll find it in Gladiator :)

If none of this is convincing enough... that’s a shame, but I understand. If it convinced you to give it a shot, however... I guess I’ll just hope you enjoy it enough to stick around! :) thanks for taking my story into consideration regardless of whatever you decide. Have a nice day!

[glittering-snowfall]

I know I’ve vented about this before, here and on my other blog, but...

It frustrates me that the loudest negative talking points about F2 have devolved into personal insults about characters, the filmmakers, and the cast... or using books that always existed in a nebulous canon space to ‘prove’ that characters are OOC.

Look. I dislike the ending of F2. I think there were poor writing decisions in F2. (I also think there were good writing decisions.) I feel there are serious pacing issues that often undercut the good aspects of the film. I also think that, at certain points, characters’ behavior feels OOC or the resolutions to scenes feel so rushed they don’t land with the impact they should.

I don’t like the destiny elements. I don’t like the Fifth Spirit elements and I feel they compromise Elsa’s agency (and before someone says, “But they don’t determine Elsa’s actions!”, let me reiterate that they still influence Elsa’s actions and influence her life from before she is even born. This isn’t like the world influencing people. This is design - and even if you feel that the regular influences of the world that ordinary people go through are God’s design, God doesn’t take as clear and direct a hand as the spirits and magical forces do with Elsa in F2.

I actually agree with a lot of the central points the “BringElsaHome” people have, but... not for the reasons that they sometimes tout.

Like... Elsa feels slightly OOC to me in F2 because she’s so focused on her own goals even when it’s clear that Anna is panicking and hurting - and that feels legitimately off for me. Yes, Elsa frequently pushes Anna away in the first film for Anna’s own good, but we get so many scenes of Elsa being aware that she is hurting Anna emotionally and hating that. In F2, something like the ice boat scene happens and then it never comes up again. We don’t get a moment for Elsa to pause and reflect on what she’s done, we just jump to the Dark Sea scene. In fact, the more I think about it, the ice boat scene is a GOOD scene - it’s compelling and morally grey and opens up interesting conflicts and, it’s born of Elsa’s noble desire to protect those she loves), but the aftermath is what kills it because it’s so disjointed and rushed and so it feels... off...

Again, I’m not saying this to be critical of Elsa. I love Elsa. I’m being critical of the way Elsa is written at points in F2 and, more than that, how the pacing does a disservice to otherwise good scenes. I know some anti-Elsa people took my ice boat post from ages ago to say that Elsa “never apologizes” in general, but that’s just factually incorrect and I advise them to look back at all the times in the franchise when Elsa has. 

It’s strange because the “BringElsaHome” folks, I know, dislike that scene as well. And so do some anti-Elsa folks. (It’s strange how they both agree because those groups hate each other, mostly due to shipping differences - but they agree to a degree and then veer into different directions, both of which I’m not fond of.)

The “BringElsaHome” folks feel the moment sucks and is OOC (which I agree with) but then some of the more aggressive folks go into wild directions with what they consider OOC about Elsa in F2 generally. Like, going to books of dubious canonicity doesn’t further your point when I’ve just spent the last few paragraphs talking about why Elsa feels OOC between movies based on the actual texts of both films. I did that to show, you CAN argue a case about Elsa feeling off in F2 and it can make sense - but the conversation so often gets derailed by the strangest choices people choose to argue. Like, talking about how ���classy’ Elsa is? That’s incredibly superficial and has some racist implications when combined with certain people’s negativity towards the Northuldra.

And the anti-Elsa people... well, they took hold of my old post to claim Elsa “never apologizes” which wasn’t the point of that post at all and feels rooted in biases against Elsa. It doesn’t look at the small discrepancies between characterization and pacing, it just generalizes Elsa as a “bad sister.” Even though there are nuances to the scene and, on it’s own it’s a rather good scene, it’s just a victim of choppy editing and pacing when it comes to addressing its aftermath.

At the same time, I do agree with the frustrations that Anna fans have... and some of the frustrations that Elsa fans have. let me try to explain my position.

You see, I feel that Anna’s personal journey in Frozen 2 is far better written than Elsa’s personal journey. It feels more grounded. it feels more human. I can relate to it more. The Next Right Thing is so real it hurts me to hear it. And because it feels better written, I can sympathize with Elsa fans who feel Elsa got the short shrift in F2. Someone on twitter talked about F2 being more focused on Elsa’s magic than Elsa as a person and... I agree with that. At the same time, I don’t agree with people who say the filmmakers “hate” Elsa or suggest Kristen Bell was somehow pulling strings behind the scenes. That’s not how it works, guys, and even if she made some suggestions, the writers and director are the final arbiters. The writers and director call the shots. 

While I agree with the arguments that Elsa suffered from poor writing (and poor editing) at points of F2, it’s not because the filmmakers “hate” her. I think they love her very much and wanted to make a relatable story for her. That’s why Elsa’s journey in F2 works as a metaphor for self-acceptance. 

But I do think the means they used to facilitate the metaphor are flawed. The magical destiny elements overwhelm the human elements and so it becomes... only metaphor... whereas in the first film, we had Elsa’s powers as metaphor, yes, but grounded alongside her interactions with her family and others. It becomes too abstract and it’s hard for me to relate to. (Keep in mind, I’m NOT policing anyone. As I said, it’s a powerful metaphor - and if that metaphor works as-is for you, I’m happy for you. I just needed to see more of Elsa bonding with other people - like the found family she built in the first film, like the Northuldra who could serve as a beautiful extension of that family and who I feel need more screentime. I feel it’s poor writing (or at least, flawed writing) but not born from a place of malice. More, I’d argue it comes from a good-intentioned miscalculation what made Elsa so resonant to a certain subset of fans. But that’s not hate.

I agree with Anna fans who are frustrated too. It���s interesting. Certain Elsa fans feel Elsa was pushed aside while Anna fans feel frustrated about Anna too. I sympathize with Anna fans because Elsa does always get way more focus in the marketing. Elsa gets way more attention from fans and the media and so forth. That hurts. And, even as I feel Anna got the far richer storyline in F2, Elsa still got the big showstopping numbers that everyone focused on. That can hurt.

And I also sympathize with Anna fans (of various ships) stung by the fact that F2 puts Anna through... a whole lot of pain. Where Elsa gets a journey of exultation, Anna gets to struggle as her certainties fray apart. And, for me, that hurts. Maybe it’s just because, as I said, The Next Right Thing feels too real for me.

And that sympathy of mine means I agree with different people of different ships too, to a degree. I agree with KA  and EA shippers who talk about how Anna went through so much but the filmmakers cut the moment of her getting her parent’s validation. I agree that Anna is more level-headed than Elsa throughout much of F2 and it hurts seeing her try to hold her family together. I DO NOT agree when people bring up codependency to condemn the snow sisters bond; I’m sensitive to that.

I don’t know. I agree with a lot of critiques about F2, but I also love aspects of F2 and think it’s beautiful in spite of its flaws. But I still critique it a lot. I just wish people focused their critiques on more coherent things than... on the things they do. 

[shihalyfie]

The 02 epilogue and “realism”

While the following thoughts have been something I’ve been thinking about for a very long time, the official Kizuna Twitter posted some interesting tweets this morning about the 02 epilogue that made me feel very much like I wanted to talk about this in detail today, so I’ve written this up. Considering how historically controversial the 02 epilogue is (or having an opinion on the 02 epilogue at all, really), I’m probably standing on thin ice by even talking about it, but I’ll do my best.

I think there’s no way getting around the fact that the 02 epilogue was really sudden for pretty much everyone -- it pretty much jumps at you without warning at the end of episode 50, a sudden 25-year timeskip when we had just gotten out of Oikawa’s death (and a very chaotic finale in general). But there is another quirk about the epilogue, which is that a lot of what seems “illogical” out of it...is most certainly illogical to someone approaching it as a kid thinking in terms of media tropes, but gains a very different nuance when you become an adult and have a certain degree of life experience under your belt.

(Note: This post does not discuss Kizuna, despite being inspired by something from it, so no fear of spoilers.)

Before we begin for real, I just want to get it out of the way that I’m not trying to “defend” the epilogue in the sense of implying that people are unreasonable for being blindsided. Like I said, it was sudden, and it was a giant timeskip where a ton of incredibly massive changes happened, leaving the audience likely to be disoriented wondering what on earth happened in the middle there to lead up to that. On top of that, although the rest of this meta is basically dedicated to “analyzing the meaning behind the epilogue writing choices from the production perspective”, I will be very honest in that, yes, I do think that, regardless of good intent, it may not have been the best decision to go ahead and make these decisions in this degree of lack of thought as to how the audience (especially one that was expected to be largely comprised of children) would take it -- creativity is a two-way street, after all, and communicating with your audience and understanding how your work will come off is very important.

Still, nevertheless, I’m writing this meta because I think, well...now that we’re all adults, and now that we’ve gotten a plethora of development information over the past twenty years, especially in the light of Kizuna, it’s worth doing an analysis about why these kinds of writing choices were made, because even to this day you get a lot of people who feel completely blindsided about it.

Everyone’s careers

Actually, the reason I decided to make this post was that I was inspired a bit by this morning’s post from the Kizuna Twitter discussing why, despite being a lead-up to the 02 epilogue, some of the cast in Kizuna seems to be in careers or aspirations that are slightly off from the careers we saw them in during the actual epilogue. (Most notably, Sora still working in ikebana instead of fashion design, Mimi being into online shopping instead of her future cooking show, etc.) The official statement was that Seki Hiromi (producer for the original Adventure and 02) personally stepped in and warned them that, in real life, a lot of people will end up changing their career aspirations at this age, and that it wouldn’t hit close to home if everyone had it exactly figured out by this point.

Kizuna is a movie about the Sad Millennial Adult Experience, so of course it is very important that it be relatable to adults in the modern era. But, in all honesty, this principle applies to 02′s epilogue itself as well. Back when the epilogue first aired -- and for the last twenty years, really -- you got a lot of comments like “why didn’t Taichi become a professional soccer player? why didn’t Yamato go into music?” and such. The thing is, though...well, this is a personal anecdote, but I first got into Digimon when I was a preteen, and, having already had an experience where my childhood interests had changed completely, I actually severely disliked seeing people say that because it felt too straightforward. Even that early, that kind of thing felt unrelatable.

Kizuna as a movie, right now, would be impossible to make in the form it is now if it hadn’t been for the 02 epilogue setting that kind of precedent -- because of the idea of your childhood hobbies not feeling as appealing as they used to be and being very lost about what to do now, feeling that everyone lied to you about that whole “having things figured out by adulthood” thing, and maybe you’ll never really figure it out. But even taking out the fact that the 02 epilogue most likely wasn’t written with the idea they’d need to make an adult-relatable movie 20 real-life years later, I think it’s easy to glean that this philosophy was behind the 02 epilogue as well. Especially since, well...Adventure and 02 themselves were both famous for this kind of writing, for depicting the lives of children in surprisingly realistic and close-to-home ways that avoided generic anime tropes.

Actually, Kakudou said it straight-out:

There were a lot of anime normally made with the idea that a given rule must occur, but I decided to do them while having doubts about whether or not it was a good idea to take on such given rules without any detail. Even if we went on with these given rules, I tried to take appropriate steps in showing why such things had occurred through step-by-step arrangements and reasoning. That is why I tried to add a little bit of realness each time to the characters, despite the restrictions that they are from anime.

So yes, that actually was the point -- no using anime tropes unless they felt they could feasibly happen with these characters. Daisuke is commented on as having “the most anime-like” and idealistic personality, but as I commented in my earlier 02 meta, he still doesn’t quite hit all of the check marks on the shounen hero archetype. So after going for a whole series on the line of going into a grounded take on human mentalities and thought processes...it probably would be inappropriate to suddenly shift into an extremely idealized fictional trope-ish depiction of everyone just going into a more exaggerated version of their childhood hobbies.

Again, that doesn’t mean that some of these don’t come off as really sudden -- the most infamous being Yamato becoming an astronaut. This was eventually revealed in 2003 and several times later to be a holdover from the original beta concept for a third Adventure series, so in that light it makes a little more sense -- Yamato probably would be the most passionate about keeping up the fight as a Chosen -- but nevertheless, it’s ambiguous whether that actually still holds (especially since the actual, uh, “third series” was...a bit different), and since we live in a world where that hypothetical Digimon in Space series never happened, it still blindsides the viewer.

On the other hand, though, both the tri. stage play and the official Kizuna profiles only took less than a paragraph to explain the disparity of why Yamato isn’t doing music anymore: he wanted to keep it in the range of hobbies. Which, incidentally, is an extremely common thing for many who experiment with creative work in their youth -- many realize that if they make it into their job, they’ll actually start hating it. Conversely, while I haven’t talked to a lot of astronauts myself, I really do sometimes wonder how many of them actually knew they were going to get into it from childhood.

So that’s the thing. We have no idea what happened, we’re left with very little recourse as to bridging the gap (at least, until Kizuna came 20 years later and helped us out a bit), and that’s why it feels implausible to many -- especially for a kid in the audience who may not have had that experience of having their hobbies change or feel less appealing. In the end, like I said, I’m not sure that going about it this way was the best decision when the very target audience was likely to be confused about this, and since, after all, fiction does have to have some acceptable breaks from reality for the sake of being a followable story. But at the very least, it is very much in line with Adventure and 02′s philosophy towards writing and its characters -- that things would be the case based on what would be these characters’ likely trajectory as actual people, and not as what you might expect “because it’s fiction” or “because they’re this kind of character”.

That everyone has a Digimon partner

I have a very distinct memory of, as a preteen, going around the Internet and seeing a fansite where someone made their “better version” of the epilogue, where their favorite ships got married instead and everyone got the careers they thought they should have, but one major thing that stuck out was that it had the now-adult kids still keep the existence of Digimon a secret, and that it’s kind of a “secret club” that they still have. In general, one of the biggest arguments against the “everyone has a Digimon partner” thing is that this, allegedly, diminishes how “special” the Chosen are when they’re not the super-amazing sole people in the world to have a partner.

When you’re a kid, being the “Chosen One” sounds romantic. You’re a special selected hero with fated abilities to save the world. In the context of Adventure and 02, however, this would actually be very contradictory to the constant reminders given by both series that magical powers selecting you out of nowhere means absolutely nothing if you’re not the one with personal will and volition to do the right thing with what you’re given. In fact, I’d say it’s actually the opposite of what all of those people have said -- if you did something amazing because of fate or because some higher power said you should, it says a lot less about you than if you were given abilities and choices and actively made an attempt to do something good and change the world, by your own volition.

But the other very important thing about the epilogue is that people keep seeing this development of Digimon proliferating all over the world like it was completely out-of-nowhere, to the point I’ve even seen conspiracy theories that the epilogue was a last-minute decision. This is especially funny because the epilogue was one of the first things decided in the entire series -- “the entire series” in this case being not 02, but Adventure -- before they’d even finalized the characterizations for everyone! The 02 epilogue was, infamously, intended to be Adventure’s ending, before 02 was greenlighted and they postponed the plan there resulting in 02 ultimately taking the fall for it.

Because it was a new television series, without an original novel or manga to use as its reference, we had to cut back on the aspect of explaining the character to each voice actor, something that we would usually do under normal circumstances. We only described their basic personality during auditions because it was likely that those personalities would change drastically in the future depending on the plot’s developments. We did not omit the explanations because there were too many characters. I swear.

But in exchange, we began post-recording by saying just this: “This story is one that’s being reminisced on by one of the children in the group who becomes a novelist 28 years later. The narrator here is that child as an adult.” Those who watched the last episode of the continuation series “Digimon Adventure 02” would know that this was Takeru, but back then, that information was kept secret. At the time of the show, it was planned that the last episode of “Digimon Adventure” would end with ‘where are the characters now’ 28 years later. However, in mid-run, production for its sequel “02” was decided and its story contents were established to be juxtaposed to the previous show, so we carried over the 28 years later scene to the sequel series instead.

(From the afterword from Adventure novel #3, from director Kakudou Hiroyuki.)

25 years after 02. 28 years after Adventure. We calculated that very precisely. In 1999, there was Taichi’s group of eight, and there were also eight other people who didn’t appear in Adventure. Before that there were only eight total, and before that only four, and before that only two, and at the beginning, only one. If they were to double every year, then it would be 28 years until everyone in the world would be able to live alongside a Digimon. Threaded through both Adventure and 02 is a story about humanity’s evolution. For everyone to have their own Digimon partner is the final step of evolution. Because there’s not much left for our actual bodies to change in terms of evolution, it is a story about how the hidden parts of our souls use the powers of digital technology to manifest in the real world, resulting in humanity’s evolution.

Statement from Kakudou Hiroyuki, from the Digimon Series Memorial Book.)

About Digimon 10: The initial trigger for humanity receiving partner Digimon was the Hikarigaoka incident in 1996, but at the time the Internet network was not ready and it was too early for anything to happen. The following years resulted in two and then four people getting involved, and after that it doubled every year (twice, because digital and binary). About Digimon 11: Twenty years later, in the world depicted in the final episode of 02, all human beings have received a partner Digimon. This is the ultimate result of Digimon Adventure’s story of evolution.

Statement from Kakudou Hiroyuki, originating from Twitter and later moved to his blog.)

While the 02 epilogue taking place in the year it did sounds like it’s because they just wanted to add an arbitrary neat number of “25 years later” to 02′s finale, in actuality, the original goal was not for that 25 years but to specifically hit the year of 2028 (not 2027, actually), where, calculating the number of humans that could be partnered to a Digimon based on the global population, everyone would have a partner by exactly 2028. The “doubling every year” principle was only brought up in actual anime-centric canon in a drama CD, and even then it was in a context of speculation instead of being stated as hard fact, but it should be noted that even Kizuna is compliant with this principle, since To Sora states directly that the number of Chosen Children as of 2010 is over 30,000, which is the approximate correct amount you should be expecting by 2010 under this principle. (So yes, really, despite ostensibly not being compliant with his original concept, presumably thanks to the nail added by partnership dissolution and how that ties into his theory of Digimon being part of the soul, Kizuna actually goes out of its way to otherwise be compliant with even the more obscure parts of his lore.)

But the really interesting thing that this epilogue concept brings out is that “the adventure of the Tokyo Chosen Children” actually had nothing to do with the proliferation of Chosen Children around the world whatsoever. From the very beginning, even since the original conception of Adventure, the proliferation of Digimon was something that was going to happen whether anyone liked it or not.

In fact, let’s look at what Koushirou actually says in the aforementioned drama CD:

Yes. I’ve figured it out… The meaning behind the term “Chosen Child.” The number of “Chosen Children” has been growing at a steady rate. Having a partner Digimon isn’t really that special. Being a “Chosen Child” means… to cease the hostilities that break out and inconvenience the Digital World. In order to do so, that child gains a partner Digimon faster than another. In other words, we are children chosen to fight. That’s what it means, isn’t it? ... Oh, is that so? That’s surprising. I didn’t expect that not even you would know what countries the Chosen Children come from when they go to the Digital World… It’s Qinglongmon that’s helping you, is it, Gennai-san? Do the other Holy Beasts who have revived not know either? The Digital World is still so full of mysteries. I’ll do my best to look for them over here.

I think a lot of people tend to have misconceptions about the nature of a Chosen Child, and those who picked them, because the way everyone became “chosen ones” is actually very different from how most media usually would play the trope. In particular:

Homeostasis, the Agents, and the Holy Beasts are explicitly not gods nor omniscient. Homeostasis admits their own lack of abilities in Adventure episode 45, and there’s a recurring undercurrent of the “I don’t know” coming from them and the Agents not actually being because they’re deliberately cryptic, but because they really don’t know. In fact, the Digital World itself is depicted as being about as confused about this whole human contact thing as the human world is.

Note that Koushirou makes a distinction between “being a Chosen Child” and “having a Digimon partner”. If you’re deemed someone who might be able to do something important in this very early time when the Digital World is still trying to figure all of this stuff out, in a world where humans overall still don’t understand Digimon very well, you get first dibs because you’re someone who can be a valuable pioneer. In other words, just because everyone else will eventually get a partner doesn’t mean your contributions aren’t still historical, valuable, and important.

The Digital World was mentioned in Adventure episode 19 as being approximately as big in scale as the real-world Earth itself. That means the Digital World is huge. Of course, its time and space doesn’t exactly match up with the real world’s, as demonstrated multiple times in 02 when the kids abuse it to circumvent travel distance, but nevertheless, there is presumably a lot of the Digital World that neither the Adventure nor the 02 kids have seen in their lives. When they meet Qinglongmon in 02 episode 37, he introduces himself as being in charge of the Eastern side -- and we never meet the others. In effect, there’s probably a huge area of the Digital World that needs protecting that even twelve kids from Tokyo can’t cover by themselves. And that answers the question of what the international Chosen Children are there for -- what do you think they’re doing with those Digivices, twiddling their thumbs? The Tokyo Chosen’s adventures were the ones we were blessed with being able to bear witness to, but that absolutely does not exclude the idea that there were other kids going through their own tales of growth and adventure -- especially since, as I said, Homeostasis and the others protecting the Digital World are not omniscient, and there are a lot of known factors beyond their control.

On that note, you might notice that, by the doubling-every-year principle and by running a math calculation, in 1999, there were eight other Chosen Children besides Taichi’s group. This also tracks with the fact that Adventure episode 53 revealed that there were other Chosen Children prior to Taichi et al. who performed an incomplete seal on Apocalymon, ones that even Gennai wasn’t aware of (remember how I said that the Agents aren’t actually omniscient?). While the fact that such an ostensibly huge fact was dropped so casually is jarring for the viewer, in retrospect, the fact that this was dropped so casually was indicative of the idea of how...not very much of a big deal this was supposed to be. Taichi and his friends may have been instrumental in the selection process for Chosen Children back in 1995, but they weren’t the only ones who witnessed the Hikarigaoka incident nor to have contact with Digimon, and they weren’t even the first to save the Digital World, nor will they be the last. But the journey of personal growth they took was still important to themselves -- just because they weren’t the only ones who took it didn’t change the fact that such an important thing happened, nor that we got the benefit of being able to meet and resonate with these kids.

In fact, the Hikarigaoka incident wasn’t even the first point of contact with the Digital World. 02 episode 33 hinted very heavily that what humans have perceived as youkai and other spirits were actually Digital World contact, just not something actually noticeable until digital technology started connecting the worlds. Episode 47 revealed that Oikawa Yukio and Hida Hiroki had made contact sometime in the 80s via video games -- even though they weren’t Chosen Children themselves at the time. In short, the concept of the Digital World and its contact with the human one is something that spans throughout history, of which the Tokyo Chosen Children are only part of in very recent years.

And finally, one of the most important parts: the idea that the Digimon would stay a secret to the world for very long is inherently infeasible. The 1999 “Digimon in the sky” incident was international. It made international news. Everyone in Tokyo has clear memories of the “Odaiba fog” incident, and, as revealed in 02 episode 14, even a boy from America, Michael, has clear memory of seeing a Gorimon. Reporters like Ishida Hiroaki didn’t hesitate to get in on the scene and try to cover what was going on, and 02 episode 38 revealed that Takaishi Natsuko was doing intensive enough press coverage on the Digimon incidents that Oikawa actually sought her out for information on it. They’re probably not the only reporters around the world doing the same. One episode later, Gennai revealed that the government/military and scientific worlds had actually caught onto the existence of Digimon and did make active attempts to research it -- but, fearing that the world wasn’t quite ready to do that without exploiting Digimon for evil purposes, Gennai and the other Agents wiped out any data records so that they couldn’t do organized research or swap notes. But just wiping out data doesn’t wipe out the public memory, and, especially when the number of Chosen Children is proliferating, and with all of the Digimon-related disasters that happened around the world in 02 episodes 40-42, at some point the world is going to start becoming very aware of what’s going on with this whole thing.

And finally, about that thing where a lot of people claim that a world where everyone has a Digimon partner must be some kind of dystopia: I think this camp severely underestimates how adaptable the world is.

This is something that might not be as resonant to those who were very young at the time they aired, but Adventure and 02 were written in what was a very shocking and scary world for adults that were living at the time. The rate at which the world changed and adapted to digital technology in the late 80s and all of the 90s was ridiculous, and in some ways even terrifying. Many tech people have pointed out how much it feels like the entire structure of the world has changed in light of technological developments, AI, and the Internet in only the last few decades compared to centuries before. International policy has changed, daily life has changed, business structures have changed, in time much less than 25 years. Hell, I’m writing this post smack in the middle of the COVID-19 pandemic; I think anyone reading this right now at this time can attest to how terrifyingly quickly the world changed itself in only a few months in response to such a thing.

Compared to that, a whole 25 years of slow burn where the Digimon partner rate at least had the decency to double every year and give people a chance to acclimate and make public policy seems practically luxurious. On top of that, while there will certainly be more people like the Kaiser out there abusing their power, Digimon evolution at least happens to be tied to human emotions (unlike many other weapons out there), and there is some stifling factor in less-than-pleasant people being a bit less likely to have the same access to overwhelming power as those who are more selfless and virtuous. That kind of limiter is something I wish modern technology could have sometimes.

So what is the Tokyo Chosen Children’s place in this narrative? At the forefront of such incredibly massive incoming changes were children who were living in a completely different world than that familiar to even people who were born five to ten years earlier -- much like the real children born in the world of technology in the late 90s. The Tokyo Chosen Children were some of the earliest pioneers in this regard, being the ones who had to figure out logistics and Digimon and the Digital World and what it meant to be a partner in a world that hadn’t figured any of this out yet, and arguably wasn’t ready yet.

Yet they did, and they saved both worlds with no precedent nor support on what to do. This, I think, is a massively more meaningful accomplishment than the idea that they were exclusively selected by some higher power.

On romance and marriage

I feel like this topic is one I’m setting myself up to end up with my head on a pike by daring to breach it -- there is pretty much no way I can cover this without setting myself up for some risk of this -- but I do want to talk about it. I really don’t want to make this post into a pro- or anti-shipping discourse post, so you’ll have to forgive me as I try to be about as diplomatic about this as I possibly can. For all it’s worth, I’m a firm believer in shipping and shipping headcanons being an integral part of the fan’s experience (heck, anyone who knows me knows that I often talk about my own ships more than I really should), and so, as I said before, I’m writing this largely from the perspective of elucidating “the most likely reason it was written this way”, and not “should it have been written this way” nor “how I think people should feel in spite of this”.

In any case, I’m going to start off this section by a statement from a friend that left a particular impression on me. I’d introduced them to Digimon recently, with both of us as adults, and one thing they commented was that the idea of shipping any of the characters felt a little too odd, because they were all elementary school kids. They, of course, understood quite naturally that I had been shipping some of these kids since I was their age (and that my current round of shipping usually was more about whether they’d get together later than whether they would during the time of the series), so it wasn’t an accusation of me being creepy or anything -- it’s just that, as an adult coming into this for the first time without a lot of preconceived attachments, it felt too weird for them to ship children at that young of an age, and it was something that made me think a lot about it.

As I said, shipping is often an integral part of the fan’s experience, even for those who don’t do “fandom” -- romance is such a huge priority that it permeates all of our media, and how it’s handled is often one of the first things deeply scrutinized. Part of the reason the 02 epilogue is so controversial is that it went pretty much against the face of the most popular ships in the fanbase, and the two that did go forward (Yamato/Sora and Ken/Miyako) weren’t ones that people would conventionally expect given what you’d generally look for when it comes to fictional relationship development.

But that’s kind of the issue here: remember when I pointed out earlier that Adventure and 02 were trying to stay away from anime tropes unless they found it to be particularly relevant to the characters’ arcs? In actuality, the way that people generally expect romance and romance tropes to happen in a series -- especially a not-particularly-romance-centric series like this one -- isn’t how romance generally works, and especially not for kids at the age we saw them in Adventure and 02. It doesn’t seem like coincidence that the first hard show of romance we get (Sora asking Yamato out during Christmas) is when the relevant characters were 14, which is around the earliest age you can imagine two kids actually taking a relationship seriously and having some depth of what they’re getting into. As if to drive this in further, Daisuke’s crush on Hikari is portrayed as a sign of him acting shallow and not having a good sense of priorities at the moment; the whole 02 main cast, as of 02, is probably still too young to entertain anything serious for at least a few more years.

If you look at actual couples, as romantic as “childhood friends to lovers” is as a trope, it’s actually not very common in real life, especially for “childhood” being defined as 8-12. There might be a slightly higher chance when it comes to the Tokyo Chosen Children, considering they’d gone through some shared experiences others might not understand, but even that gets slightly mitigated by the fact that more and more people around the world are becoming Chosen themselves. So while it can happen, and while it’s probably somewhat more likely for this group in particular, it’s not as likely as the average shipper would probably want it to be. Even those who support the canon ships don’t really favor the idea of them being in a continuous relationship all the way up to adulthood -- my personal experience as someone closely following Ken/Miyako fanfiction and comics in both the West and in Japan indicates a common thread of it being treated as a mutual pining ship until several years later, and the Yamato/Sora fans I’ve personally talked to have a very high rate of feeling that the two of them have experienced at least one breakup before getting back together. Or, in short, even people who like those ships have a hard time imagining a unbroken, continuous relationship all the way from elementary/middle school to adulthood, because of how much that generally doesn’t happen.

I promise I am not writing this as a treatise against the ship itself, I swear I’m just using this because it’s the best example I can pull out at the moment, but I’ll put it this way: I think the clearest example of this is Takeru and Hikari, the only pairing that has the unfortunate distinction of being explicitly confirmed as not being married (by Seki Hiromi in V-Jump), whereas everyone outside the scope of Yamato/Sora and Ken/Miyako is still technically in “believe whatever you want” territory. Takeru/Hikari is, depending on which scale of ranking you use, a ship that consistently ranks as one of the three most popular Digimon ships globally, and them not getting together is cited as one of the most common things disliked about the epilogue. But despite its overwhelming popularity to the point you’d think it’d be easy to cater to such a humongous fanbase by pairing them together -- and so few people would dispute it, really! -- not only were they not made an item, but they were explicitly confirmed as not being one.

Why?

Takeru and Hikari probably feel “baited” to anyone who’s looking at this from a romantic trope perspective. They’re constantly in each other’s company to the point where it almost feels like they like hanging out with each other more than they do others. Takeru is shown as having a particular investment in Hikari’s welfare in 02 episodes like 7, 13, and 31. They’re constantly associated with each other in promotional materials, too. But when you look at them in terms of their actual relationship as children...well, I’ll put it this way with another personal anecdote: I actually had multiple platonic friends like that back when I was their age in elementary and later middle school, and, uh...well, people did actually ask if we were in love with each other, and it genuinely, no-strings-attached, annoyed the hell out of me, because we weren’t, and I hated being pigeonholed into that.

In real life, platonic relationships happen a lot with kids in that age group, and it’s not actually all that surprising that 02 would have wanted to portray a healthy one without any strings attached -- the same way the series also portrayed other unconventional situations with kids, such as Iori being a nine-year-old who hangs out with kids much older than him (there are most certainly kids who can attest to being in that position!). I mentioned in my earlier 02 characterization meta that both Takeru and Hikari are actually rather inscrutable (especially in the first half of the series), and in fact, episode 13, usually quoted as a Takeru/Hikari episode, is actually centered around Takeru having difficulty reaching out to Hikari because, despite the fact he was closest to her at that point in time, she still was too closed-in to open up about anything. They almost never talk about what they actually think about each other, other than obviously having an investment in each other’s welfare and enjoying each other’s company, but, again -- this isn’t unusual for platonic friends at this age. And the fact that this is the one ship where there was actual official word putting a foot down and saying, no, this did not end up in marriage...everyone interprets this like it’s some kind of callous move made to make people miserable for no good reason, but I would say that, given the writing philosophy applied to the kids in nearly every other respect, the intent was likely to make a statement that this kind of relationship can exist without it ending up in inevitable marriage somewhere down the line.

We’re inclined to see “two people being emotionally close means a higher chance of being a couple” because this is how romance has been portrayed in media for as long as any of us have been consuming media, but in actuality, relationships are very multifaceted and complicated, and there are many ways to be “emotionally close” to someone in ways that don’t overlap with being “romantically attracted” to someone. This is especially once you start becoming an adult and end up needing to navigate the web of who’s a friend and whom you might have a crush on, and in actuality the person you start flirting with because you think they’re attractive might have been someone you just met last week, or at least someone you don’t know very emotionally intimately (which is why crushes can be intimidating, even in adulthood). This is also what I think fuels the disparity between why Taichi/Sora gained such a huge following and what actually happened with them, because many, many fans will testify that they felt baited by the ship, but if you look in the actual series in terms of what counts as “romantic attraction” and not just emotional closeness, there’s...not a lot; they happened to know each other before the events of the series (but so did Koushirou!), Taichi had a bit of a mental breakdown about saving her (because he’s not someone who abandons important friends), and in Our War Game! they had a bit of a spat with traces of tsundere (which, ultimately, are circumstantial and don’t necessarily indicate they actually have serious mutual feelings for each other). Official word implies that Yamato and Sora were planned since rather early in the series, and it doesn’t seem like coincidence that “pairing up the main hero and heroine” (Taichi and Sora) was given as an example of an avoided trope in an official booklet, so it lends further support to the idea that “not following typical romance tropes and expectations” was a significant priority.

Again, this isn’t me saying anything about those who ship it or those who have been able to figure out ways in which the relationship could work in some very wonderful headcanons I’ve had the benefit of reading over the past decades, nor those who are having a marvelous time with fanfic and headcanon and comics and being a bit more willing to indulge outside the scope of the series’s canon. (Nor the multitude of very good headcanons and meta I’ve seen about the possibility of Takeru/Hikari at least trying out dating somewhere along the line, even if it doesn’t end up anywhere permanent.) Nor does that mean I think that this was the best way for the writers to go about it -- as I’ve said in this meta already, there is an inherent fallacy of not paying enough attention to how writing will be taken and interpreted by people with certain reasonable expectations cultivated from years of media consumption, and especially by kids who aren’t going to pick up that nuance or don’t have the appropriate relationship life experience. Regardless of intent, there’s still a lot that can be criticized about its handling; in many ways, it could be considered a bit cruel that the series had things known to be considered romantic subtext in most other series that may not have been actually intended this way. But, nevertheless, I do feel very strongly that there’s a high likelihood that this is what they were at least going for, even if it didn’t come off that way to most of the audience.

Extrapolating this concept further, it’s also interesting to see how Adventure and 02 treat romance as a relatively insubstantial thing in the grand scope of things. I said earlier that it’s quite understandable that romance and shipping have become the main obsession for media -- and it’s probably been that way for as long as human civilization has even existed -- but when you really think about it, Adventure/02 treat romance as “a thing that is a big part of your life, but not the sole controlling factor”. Again, note how Daisuke’s precocious crush on Hikari manifests when he’s at his most shallow, and even after Yamato and Sora start dating in episode 38, we really don’t hear a lot about it -- granted, neither were in the lead protagonist cast by that point in the series, but whenever they do appear thereafter, it’s almost always about their work helping out as Chosen than it is about their relationship, which is presumably a private thing going on in the background. It’s a part of their lives, but it’s not the only thing going on with them. Of course, shounen anime with casts of these ages don’t tend to breach the topic of romance much at all, but it’s interesting how it touches on the topic and then leaves it in the background -- again, something probably frustrating and a bit too cavalier for those inclined to see shipping and romance as life or death, but from a real-life perspective, makes sense in the realm of friends’ relationships largely not being your business, even if it is significant.

(Ken and Miyako are a trickier matter because their pairing was allegedly based on their voice actors’ friendship, but considering that it has been cited multiple times across multiple Digimon series production notes that character outlines were often subject to change even mid-series based on impressions of the voice actors’ performance -- it happened in Tamers too, and it’s not even unusual for original anime in general -- it’s still ambiguous as to when in production this decision was made, and, considering the flip between Miyako having jealous pettiness over him in episode 3 to fantasizing over him and considering him exactly her type in 8, I would not be surprised if the decision were made somewhere in between there, especially since the fact the epilogue would eventually happen was already established in production over a year prior. Unlike with Yamato and Sora, we don’t get to see the two of them at a reasonable age to start doing anything serious within the scope of 02, which led to the unfortunate result of the reveal of them getting married in the epilogue being a very startling and sudden jump for many.)

In any case, I’m going to close this with yet another disclaimer -- I know I’m repeating myself too many times at this point, but I really, really want to make it clear that I am not, in any way, trying to imply that I don’t understand why people would be blindsided by the epilogue in any of the above ways (careers, the status of Digimon partnerships, shipping) because, as I said, I do think there is some merit to the philosophy that maybe they should have paid a bit more attention to how people -- especially kids -- would actually see the events rather than the writing philosophy behind why it should be written this way. (And, to be honest, I think I might have this complaint behind not just the epilogue, but both Adventure and 02 as a whole, for a multitude of different reasons.) Moreover, there are a million other cans of worms that could be feasibly discussed regarding the epilogue that I’ve only barely scratched the surface of here, because there are so many different topics to unpack when it comes to it, and I could go on forever (and further increase my risk of ending up with my head on a pike...). And of course there’s the wider issue of how to handle timeskip epilogues in general (they don’t really tend to be very popular, do they), so, really, there’s only so much I can cover in one post before dragging this on for too long. But in the end, even after writing all this, I understand that there are a lot of people who still won’t like it or don’t want to accept it, and that’s fine; it’s not my place to try and convince people to.

But, nevertheless, the reason why I made this post -- and what I hope the take-home can be -- is that, no, I don’t think this was made as a random off-their-rocker decision with the intent to make everyone miserable, nor some kind of fever dream that the writing staff must have pulled out while drunk, nor whatever accusations I’ve seen levied about it as a weird spontaneous idea (and the fact it really did come out very suddenly at people), but that -- regardless of how it landed -- there was some idea behind why it played out, and why, even 20 real-life years later, principles like “not everyone’s going to stick with the same career even in adulthood” continue to hold.