#certainly not the same kind of incomprehensible thirst but

[siflshonen]

Woke up today grateful to know that my favorite character is still seen by many as the most annoying blorbo in the universe to have

[wallwriterstuff]

is it okay if you do one about the reader who is 13-14 going with Bella to save Edward and when Alec see's her, he realizes that she's his mate and tries talking to her and her being scared but after sometime they have a sweet bf/gf relationship? Thank you, and your writing is awesome, sorry if I bothered you

Hey hi hello, you most certainly have not bothered me at all 😊 You’re very sweet and I’m glad you enjoy my writing, I hope you like this piece just as much as the others!

Just as a wee reminder to yourself and others who wish to request anything Alec related from me, when I write for Alec, I do tend to write him as the 13-14 year old book version. The only time I age up Alec and Jane to the 16+ year old movie version is if I receive an NSFW request for them. I am still figuring out what I’m comfortable writing in terms of the level of explicitness, so while I figure out what sort of NSFW requests I will and won’t take please be patient and don’t be rude about it if you send me something I don’t think I can deliver, there’s plenty of other really incredibly writers out there I’ll happily link you to if I don’t think I can provide what you want. 

For now, have this fluffy little piece. 

Forever Yours:

Words: 5416 (oopsie)  Warnings: There is some description of injuries later on and a lot of descriptions of fear and distress in the first half of this fic. 

Alec was not one to dwell on things he didn’t find interesting. In his human life he had been pigeon-holed into farming, the manual labour something that would support his family and one of the few occupations he could actually get training for, since it meant sending him into a field and leaving him there to work alone most of the time. His village was not a welcoming place to people like him and Jane, and despite his vocation to be a blacksmith his dreams were shelved in order to provide for his mother and sister. The end result was an insatiably curious young teen desperate to break free of the tedious field work and explore what else the world had to offer him, a trait that had only been solidified by his transformation.

Currently he found himself fascinated by the readings surrounding physical Geography, the formation of the world brought to the forefront of his mind after passing through a village that had suffered an Earthquake on a mission not a month earlier, and studying such things was how he spent the majority of his evenings now. Then in the Cullen boy came, bedraggled and smelling like three week old garbage he was pleading for the end of an existence far greater than his human one could have ever been, and Alec’s mind was set whirring into motion once more.

He couldn’t begin to fathom the mind-readers motives for wanting to end his immortal life, not when it had offered Alec so much. Over the course of centuries, he had accrued wealth and knowledge, prestige, and authority that the boys in his village could only ever dream of given the circumstances they were born into. Immortality offered an eternity to pursue what interested you without the disruption of sickness, or fear of being left out of doing what you love due to injury; Alec never have to worry about being unable to train because he’d sprained his ankle after all.

No, no it was simply incomprehensible as to why the Cullen boy would throw away his immortal existence so readily, and when the reason why was finally revealed to them it only left Alec all the more baffled. A human? He wished to end his life because a human had done the same? Humans died everyday in droves, most of them tripping over their own feet and into their graves. They were weak, fragile, dim-witted enough that most actually deserved the cattle-like status his predatory nature accredited them. For Edward to willingly choose one as his mate had been foolish from the start and Alec had to wonder if this wasn’t some sort of cosmic ‘I told you so’. Surely a human couldn’t be the true mate of a vampire? Alec had never pondered over the mating bond before but as Demetri and Felix silently followed after the boy to see to it he did nothing foolish, he began to wonder about the nature of such bonds.

Aro and Caius had both turned their mates, as had Chelsea. They had all felt some form of affection for their mates as humans but had the bond solidified before or after their transformation? Were the red strings of fate he’d read about in varying fantasy novels real to some extent? Venom hardening them to form the strong bonds that allowed vampires to mate for life? He couldn’t imagine ever loving anyone to the point that Marcus had, where they became the only thing his world revolved around and left it collapsing once they were gone. Humans surely weren’t capable of loving anyone with that kind of depth, were they? Not with their flawed design.

“Dear Jane, please go and see what’s taking them so long?” Aro requested. Jane gave him a sugar sweet smile in response, kissed Alec’s cheek and floated gracefully down the steps and towards the door. Alec watched her go before returning to his thoughts, the conundrum still fresh in his mind, but Aro did not let him remain there, a drawn out sigh escaping him as he steepled his fingers to rest his chin on his hands.

“Something bothers you, Master?” he asked, tilting his head. Maybe he was having similar thoughts and they could brainstorm together. Aro stared at the doors ahead of them, his expression completely impassive. Alec was treated with the deference his gift and status demanded but out of them two of them, he knew Jane would always be the favourite, and he was okay with that. He would serve loyally as long as he lived, grateful for all the Masters’ had given him, but he did not need to be valued in the way Jane did.

“I hope Edward does nothing foolish. He would be a great asset to our little household.” Aro responded. Alec kept his face impassive, mind immediately turning now to the tactical advantage telepathy could offer. Edward’s gift was indeed powerful in its own way, to hear over great distances would compliment Demetri’s tracking ability well and override Felix’s tendency to impulsively use his brute strength without identifying priority targets first…

“Undoubtedly.” Alec agreed. Aro chuckled slightly.

“Your mind is preoccupied Alec, perhaps you ought focus it?” he suggested lightly. Alec forced back an eye roll, inclining his head to indicate he had heard him before stepping down from his place beside his throne. He retraced his sister’s footsteps, following the main hall along until he reached the secretary’s desk. Gianna glanced up, standing to greet him with the professionally polite smile she was obliged to give him, even though her heart was thundering in her chest.

“Have the others returned yet?” he questioned. Gianna shook her head.

“No Alec, they have yet to come back this way.” She answered. Alec hummed thoughtfully, engaging his senses and straining his ears to listen to the stumbling footsteps approaching. There were the usual graceful taps of his sister’s dainty steps, the tell-tale smoothness of vampires moving along stone, but the clumsy thudding that followed was definitely human in origin. What cause did they have to bring humans back into their home? That was Heidi’s job after all, and she would be returning home soon enough to slake their thirst.

“But Bella I don’t-“

“Just…not now.”

Bella? Isabella? The human mate? Now that perked his interest. Alec watched with keen eyes as the doors slid open to reveal his siter first, and a brigade of people behind her. Felix and Demetri brought up the rear as Gianna greeted Jane with the same professional courtesy she had him, the golden-eyed Cullen’s following along behind her. The two humans they had brought with them were corralled between them. One clung to Edward like a barnacle to the underside of a ship, spindly arms thrown around him despite her chattering teeth and goosebump riddled flesh. She was quite ordinary in appearance, plain even, yet the way Edward stood made it abundantly clear that this human was something extraordinary to him, something he would protect. The other was...oh how to describe her?

She captivated him almost immediately, Alec unable to take his eyes off of her approach. Was she always that pale or had the situation leeched the colour from her face? Was she always so wide-eyed or was it fear that had blown those (Y/E/C) irises wide open? She was smaller in stature than the other, yet similar enough looks wise it was clear they were siblings, one older one younger. She was perhaps his physical age with all the wide-eyed innocence that entailed, gangly limbs she hadn’t really grown into yet carrying her along with a bit of encouragement from Felix’s proximity, and the Cullen woman’s guiding hand.

“Sister, they send you out for one and you bring back three, such a clever girl.” He teased, Jane’s scent invading his nose and helping refocus his mind. Her eyes rolled, but she still embraced him as she always did with a trill of laughter to boot.

“They made it all to easy.” She responded. Alec could see the malice in his sister’s eyes and guessed that she was not appreciative of having to wait for the humans. It irked him more than it should, that the young girl had potentially unintentionally incurred his sister’s wrath, the mere notion that perhaps Jane’s thoughts of her were less than savoury something that made every protective instinct he had ever had for his sister flare and extend to this stranger.

“Edward, you seem in a markedly better mood.” He said, hoping to distract himself from the sudden, unnerving discovery.

“Marginally.” the mind-reader agreed, though his voice was blunt and cutting. Clearly Edward was not in the mood to talk.

“But Alice I still don’t know-“

“Shhh Y/N, not now.” Alice Cullen, the seer that Aro had raved about from the moment he had learned of her existence. Alec should have been interested in her, should have been evaluating her as a threat and a potential ally, but his mind had been thoroughly distracted by the small human once more. Y/N…it was a good name, a name that felt pleasant in his ears and rolled easily off of the tongue.

“But Alice-“ the urgency in her voice tore at his heart and Alec had the strange urge to comfort her. Did she truly know nothing? If she knew nothing of their kind she had broken no law and there was no reason to put her through any of this, it was unnecessary suffering.

“Is this the cause of all the trouble?” he asked, unable to keep the scepticism from his voice as he took in her unremarkable sibling. Isabella seemed to shiver under his stare (much to his amusement) though it was the younger girl whose reaction he was more interested in. Her head turned his way, (Y/C/H) hair swishing with the movement as wide (Y/C/E) eyes latched onto his own and refused to let go. The scent that was wafted up his nose was almost unbearably tantalising, the controlled burn in his throat flaring to a raging inferno that he almost choked on for a moment before he caught himself. Edward’s stare was penetrating, Alice Cullen tightening her grip on the young girl in her care in case he made a move. He swallowed back the fire but there was no hiding the way his eyes had melted to black, and the sweet tinge of fear in her already too appealing smell only made him want to give into his urges all the more.

He hadn’t realised he’d taken a step towards her until she flinched back from him, and for the first time in a long time Alec felt genuine pain. The fear on her face was obvious, the rampant thudding in her chest tangible proof that she was terrified, and he didn’t like it. He didn’t like it and he didn’t like that he didn’t like it because she was just human, flawed and breakable and pathetic so why oh why did it pain him so to see the tears gathering in the corners of her eyes?

“Y-your eyes…they just – your eyes just…Bella what did you get me into?” her voice wavered and something inside him just snapped. For once, Alec didn’t feel the apathy that came with taking a life seen as less valuable than his own, he didn’t take any sort of joy in watching her be afraid of his advance. He couldn’t deny it, not when the feeling was so deeply rooted and burned so fiercely, like a flower that been laid dormant beneath the Earth suddenly bursting from the soil to bloom brightly. He was protective of this human he barely knew, and it was terrifying to feel so connected to someone he had never met before.

“I mean you no harm, I give you my word.” The promise had escaped him before he had really thought it through and he was well aware he could not keep such a promise, but she didn’t care to hear it anyway, cringing even more into Alice since Bella seemed to refuse her in that moment. It only made him angrier. He was angry with himself for suddenly losing the emotional control he had gained over a long millennium of living, angry that he was making promises he couldn’t keep, and he was angry at the stares he was receiving from those he would call friend. Jane looked the most outwardly shocked before she quickly covered, but the one person he would have hoped would react positively just didn’t. Y/N was too afraid to see sense, and he supposed given the pie-crust promise he’d just made that might be a good thing, even if it hurt. He was angry to that her sister ignored her obvious need for comfort.

He let his sister take the lead as they headed back to the throne room, trying to fight through the sudden swell of confusing emotion and sensory information. His nose seemed attuned to her scent, suspiciously close to his favourite smells of lemongrass and gooseberry, his eyes magnetised to her form to the point he turned his head to glance back at her so frequently that Demetri felt the need to motion for him to keep his head turned forward. Humans radiated heat anyway but she felt scorching, a mini-sun whose tendrils reached out and left warmth lashing down his spine. His ears were full of her heartbeat. She was so thoroughly distracting he could barely take his eyes off of her after he had taken his place by Caius, the blonde man staring with such distaste at the both of them that Alec felt a strong urge to step between them and absorb the glare himself.

He could only half pay attention as the conversation unfolded around him, because Y/N wouldn’t stop looking at him like he was the devil incarnate and it bothered him immensely. He had dealt with it his whole life, a social pariah for his links to witchcraft and someone whose gift left him with few friends since they feared the authority it gave him. He had handled it then, and he handled it now, he could deal with other people looking at him like that but not her, anyone but her.

“Alec!” Jane hissed his name and Alec snapped to attention, mist unfolding from his palms so he was ready to take down any threat that came at him. Demetri snickered loudly enough it reached his ears and Alec’s glare was so deadly it drew a soft whimper from her. He almost groaned. Could he do no right by her? Y/N had started trembling a while ago but now there were full body shakes wracking her from head to foot, her teeth grinding together so loudly he worried the teeth might snap under the strain she was putting on them. Aro’s laughter clattered through his head and he turned to face him, at a loss as to what to do for once. He didn’t honestly think that he could hurt the girl if asked.

“My dear boy it would seem you are quite distracted by young Miss Swan. Oh to be young and in love once more!” he tittered. Alec froze, every muscle locking in place as the distinct feeling of distress rose through the confusion and anger and pain he’d been desperately trying to wade through. Love? He definitely did not love the girl, it was mere curiosity and nothing else, the same curiosity he applied to his studies.

“Love?” Jane’s voice was equally as harsh and Aro seemed surprised by her reaction. Alec was not. For centuries they had had only each other, the centre of a small world where they seldomly let others join them. The very notion another might be welcomed into his heart would be not just repulsive, but very troubling for her.

“Why, don’t tell me you cannot see it? Already the bond between them has set, the thread connecting them tied at both ends. Are you not happy for your twin to have found such a rare and beautiful thing?” Aro wondered. As if Aro had perhaps waved a magic wand his mind settled. His brain had tried to fight what his body already knew, his subconcious screaming the word while his rational mind raced a million miles ahead to try and outrun the answer until it could run no more, and the two collided. The aftermath of the explosion was calm, almost wonderous, for he would finally get the chance to study something he had never studied before.

“You’re my mate.” He breathed. Even he could hear the awe in his voice, though nobody but him seemed to find it wonderful. Jane hissed, both Cullen’s tensing up while Bella recoiled from her sister like she was diseased, and Y/N…Y/N just cried. Alec’s world ground to a halt, the pain his mate spilling out and into him. He descended the stairs with every intention of stopping her tears, hoping to calm her perhaps and explain exactly what it meant to be mates, but Y/N didn’t let Bella refuse her this time and sought refuge in her sister, sobbing all the while.

“Wh-what did you do! Why d-did you bring me h-here? I d-don’t want to st-stay with him!”

The words were a hard blow, they struck him in the gut and it was the closest he’d felt to nauseous in centuries.

“I have no desire to keep you here, but if you would please-“

“Leave me alone! I w-want to go home!” she cried, not so much as turning to look at him. If he hadn’t been a vampire he would probably have missed all of the muffled words she heaved into her sisters shoulder.

“You can still go home yet-“ he had paid enough attention to know Bella was not being executed at least and as his mate Y/N was exempt of that fate to, “-all I would like is a chance to talk.” Alec’s plea fell on deaf ears, his hand shrugged off of her shoulder.

“No!”

Alec straightened, wiping his face of any and all expression, he didn’t so much as give any of them a farewell before he left the room. The sudden rejection stung worse than the fire that had once burned his flesh from his bones, and the hollow that opened in his gut grew wider and wider with every moment that passed since the second he’d left her. He put down his books, spending his nights envisioning her tear-stained face and wondering what would have made her smile instead. He craved to know every like and dislike, to hear her voice when she wasn’t consumed with horror and fear, to learn more about her life and contrast it with his own. They had all tried to talk him round in the intervening months, but Alec couldn’t find the strength to drag himself out of the numbness that had enveloped him. Not until Marcus came by to see him anyway.

“What do you require of me, Master?” he asked, staring aimlessly out of the window at the Garden’s below. Marcus seated himself at the desk across the room, the one littered with books Alec hadn’t had the heart to open since the fateful day his mate had left him.

“Didyme was not immediately drawn to me either.” He rasped. Alec’s head whipped around at that, the shock on his face obvious. Marcus had been nothing but a shell in all the time he had known him, grieving a lost love so profound Alec was sure that their story must have been the greatest romance ever known. To hear Didyme had not readily accepted him was both astounding and…it gave him hope.

“She didn’t?” he hedged. Marcus glanced to him, a wisp of smile floating from his lips before his expression fell flat again.

“She was a headstrong woman, and for a while she resented Aro for what he did to her, to me. She could not revel in her new state as we did, this world was so different from the one she had known…it took time for her to adjust before she truly opened her heart to me.” His words were like a soothing balm on the raw wound her rejection had left behind.

“I might find it more encouraging if I was sure I might yet see her again.” Alec frowned slightly as Marcus pushed to his feet.

“There will be opportunity enough to visit her yet, you might yet be surprised.” He answered, floating from the room like dust on the wind. Alec stared at the door, his mind mulling over the cryptic message before the briefest hint of a smile twitched his lips upward. Hope was a beautiful thing, and it only grew in his chest as Aro deployed them to Seattle not a day later to deal with a mess created by a gaggle of newborns. When stressed, vampires did not fidget but rather became motionless and immobile, but while he sat rigid as stone in his seat for the flight over his mind became restless. Where would he find her in this city? If Marcus’s cryptic message had been for him then surely he knew he would find Y/N here? Demetri’s hand on his arm made him pause before he stepped off of the jet.

“She’s in the city Alec, if you need a guide.” His voice was low enough nobody but him would hear him. Alec fully planned to take him up on the offer once their work for the night was done, it wasn’t often the tracker was rendered unnecessary, but Alec didn’t need Demetri’s gift to know when he had found her.

Her sobbing was ingrained in his memory after all.

The rage that built in him was blinding, his body unable to move fast enough to put himself between Y/N and the newborns dragging her mangled body from the wreckage of a car they had flipped. All around him was the screaming and snarling of newborns, the metallic screech of hardened skin coming apart as they put an end to the atrocity. His mist had exploded outward, rippling in every direction and he had only just enough sense of mind to ensure it didn’t harm his coven mates as he tore apart the newborns who had dared lay a hand on his mate. Chest heaving and throat blazing, Alec felt the blood on the ground soak his trousers as he collapsed beside her. She was screaming, body contorting in awful ways as her face turned red, veins popping in her neck as it strained. Alec placed a cool hand shakily on her forehead, beyond furious with the grotesque bitemark marring her shoulder.

“What were you thinking brother! Now that we have destroyed this group we – we…oh…oh Alec…” the rage that simmered in Jane’s voice very quickly dissipated when she saw the state he was in. His head was swimming, the appealing scent of blood hanging heavy in the air while his gut twisted and fury and terror raged war in his heart. She was turning, there was no doubt about it, the venom was leaking out of the wound with her blood. She was turning and it wasn’t his venom.

“I – I can take away the pain.” He stammered. He had wanted someone to do that for him when he burned. It was the greatest act of mercy he could think of, perhaps the greatest way for him to show his love for a girl he barely knew but wanted to oh so badly.

“You will starve yourself before she completes the transformation. There is hardly enough venom in that bite Alec.” Felix pointed out. Y/N let out another tortured shriek, body twisting. He heard the broken bones in her legs crunching at the movement and said a silent prayer to thank whatever deity was watching over her that the venom was excruciating enough she wouldn’t have to feel broken bones on top of it.

“So what do I do? Leave her like this? She’s in agony!” he snapped, “She’s in agony and I can end it!”

“It is a natural thing brother.” Jane said quietly.

“But it does not have to be endured forever.” Demetri weighed in finally, “Give her some more Alec, shorten the process and if you find yourself unable to stop…well, we will stop you.” Alec could only give her an anguished stare, loathe to cause her anymore pain but knowing Demetri was right. The longer the change dragged on for the less likely it was she would survive, but if he bit her again, gave her more of his venom to override what little was already diffusing through her blood, it would shorten the process considerably. He could already feel the acidic liquid pooling in his mouth and he hoped she could see just how apologetic he was, though he didn’t think it likely given how her eyes had rolled back into her head as she convulsed with a shout.

“Stop me Jane, forget our oath this one time and do whatever it takes to stop me.” He demanded. Jane looked horrified by the very thought but Alec didn’t wait for her to consent to his plea, cradling Y/N close and closing his eyes as he bared his teeth, ready to bite into the buttersoft sinews of her throat…

“What are you thinking about so hard?” her voice was melodic in his ears, a symphony he never grew tired of. Startled from his reverie, Alec had to pause a moment to gather his thoughts and remind himself where he was. Volterra was bathed in sunshine once more and his skin refracted it beautifully against the walls of the garden, the book in his lap long since discarded as his mind began to wonder. It had been a while, since he’d recalled that fateful night.

“You’re back,” he noted with a small smile, “I was thinking about you of course, as I always do when you’re not around.” Her smile could have lit up New York city, and Alec adored it. Y/N hadn’t been happy upon waking up in Volterra, Alec by her side as he quietly explained she had been made immortal in desperate circumstances. It had taken her many months to get over the traumatic incident but since she had started to bounce back to her old self, Alec had discovered a rather beautiful, happy person he really rather liked. Since she had been forced to spend so much time with him, letting him coach her in the new way of life she had to adopt, she had taken quite a liking to him to it seemed.

“You should be proud of me, I got to the nomad before Demetri so we all got to come home sooner. You should have seen his face!” She giggled. Alec couldn’t help but smirk, smug and proud as he pulled her down to rest between his legs, back pressed flush to his chest. Her scent dragged him under, a tranquil wave settling those restless parts of him that recognised how incomplete he felt without her around. He buried his nose in her hair to take a deep lungful of the addictive smell.

“I’m always proud of you.” He promised softly.

“Have you just been reading all the time we’ve been gone?” she wondered. Alec hummed, picking up the book he had discarded and reopening to the page he was on.

“It was the one you recommended to me. I’ve just gotten to the chapter where Sephy realises Callum is one of her kidnappers.” He revealed, and without hesitation he dropped his cheek atop her hair and began to read aloud. She melted into him, her hands mindlessly reaching for the ground every now and then while Alec focused his energy on his book, the peaceful atmosphere remaining unbroken for a chapter more before she shifted. He relinquished her immediately, knowing his mate was never one to stay still for too long, only to be surprised when she turned on her knees with a ring of daisies in her hand. Alec raised an eyebrow and she grinned.

“I hereby declare you King Alec of Castle Volterra!” she announced. The daisy crown was placed daintly atop his head, only to fall and get stuck on the bridge of his nose. Too big to be a crown but too small to be a necklace. Her face fell into a pout as Alec began to laugh, very gently rearranging the daisies so they rested at an angle and were slightly weighted down by some of his brunette hair.

“I, King Alec, declare I cannot rule without you, Queen Y/N,” he proclaimed, offering her his hand. She giggled as he pushed to his feet, pulling her with him. She was forever going to be shorter than him, just a little, and he loved that. “Now, as our first royal duty, that dye you ordered came. I decree it’s time to give our guard matching uniforms!” He was bolstered by her obvious enthusiasm, crimson eyes sparkling.

“It came? The neon green one?” she asked eagerly. Alec nodded, unable to keep his laughter at bay as she bounced up and kissed him so quickly she almost broke his teeth with the speed she moved at. He didn’t get to voice his protest because she was already dragging him by the hand back towards the castle. Before he had met her, schemes like this would have made his nose turn up in distaste. How childish these endeavours were, how wasteful of their time. Y/N had changed his perspective on a great many things, and it was rather nice now and then to give into the childish ways his physical age demanded he give in to every now and then, he had gotten so good at repressing those throughout the centuries but she seemed to bring out the playful side of him. If anything had managed to convince Jane she was a good addition to their family, it was tallying how much more Alec had smiled since she came into his life to stay.

“I can pilfer the shirts, they’re far less likely to suspect I am up to any wrong doing than if they smell you in their rooms.” Alec pointed out in hushed tones. She nodded, her head tilted up as they walked close together, co-conspirators to anyone looking in.

“Okay, you steal the shirts while I mix the-“

“Mix the what, exactly?” Demetri’s voice came from behind them and with wide eyes Y/N yelled ‘Scatter!’ before the tracker had the chance to grab either of them by the collar. Alec bolted after her down the corridor, just ever so slightly lagging behind her since she still had her newborn strength and speed. She grabbed his wrist without warning and Alec felt Demetri’s hand swipe right through his head before she tugged him straight through a wall and they began to freefall into the courtyard below. Demetri was cursing up a storm inside, her gift having turned them both immaterial long enough to allow them to pass through the walls in a way he couldn’t. Collapsing in a fit of boisterous laughter the pair lingered in the sunlight, eyes bright and smiles wide. For a moment, anyone passing them by might have forgotten their glittering skin and vibrant red eyes, mistaking them for two normal teens experiencing the euphoria of puppy love.

“Did you see his face!” she gasped. Alec could only smile at her, hand reaching to tuck a lock of stray hair behind her ear so he could have an unobstructed view of her face. Her smile faded slightly, expression growing more sheepish instead.

“I was too busy looking at yours. I think I would like to spend every day I have looking at your face over his. I love you Y/N, at least, I think this is what love feels like.” His brows furrowed, the confession falling from his tongue without his permission. He wondered if perhaps it was too soon, too big a word to label the affection they held for one another, but seeing the way her face lit up told him otherwise.

“Pinky swear it, Alec. If you don’t pinky swear it’s not real.” She said, holding out her hand. Alec rolled his eyes but looped his pinky through hers, cementing his promise with all the binding legality the pinky swear had to offer.

“I swear it Y/N. I’m forever yours.”  

[scottstiles]

in the spirit of losing followers for no reason, and because the new year is almost upon us, and because i haven’t done so in awhile, here is a post about the weekly parsha (torah reading):

this week we read nitzavim, 4 parashot away from the end of the book. it’s a short chunk, but one that contains a fair amount of pretty well known phrases. so while i was studying last night/early this morning, with nobody to talk to about this (as usual, because who else the fuk is awake at that hour), i had some thoughts. (under the cut for sermon length ramblings)

one of the famous phrases in nitzavim is this one:

“i have set before you life and good, death and evil. (later on) i have given you life and death, the blessing and the curse. and you will choose life, so that you and your descendants may live.”

as i was reading it i was a bit struck by the fact that my memory bank knew this translation as “i have set before you life and death, good and evil, so you may choose life.” but in all my years of reading the hebrew i never realized just how wrong that translation is? because order is important. every word and its place in the torah has its own meaning and reason. why does the text say “life and good” and then “death and evil”? is life more important than being good? certainly one may think that death is preferable to being evil, but is it more important to be alive or to be good? that made me think of one of the most important commandments in the entire torah- choose life. also right here in the same paragraph. tradition tells us that there are only a few commandments that we are not actually required to violate, if it means saving a life. shabbat? not as important as life. keeping kosher? not important. fasting on yom kippur? definitely not as important. if someone’s life (or our own) is in danger we are obligated to break any commandment to save it. except three: idolatry (i.e. forced conversion), murder (for example someone holding a gun to your head telling you to kill someone else or they’ll kill you), and sexual immorality- incest/rape/bestiality/etc (all things directly connected to the ancient primitive polytheistic worship practices of the time). in those cases, death is preferable. so the order is clear- stay alive at all costs, except if the cost is the essence of your good humanity. and always, always, choose death over evil. life-->goodness-->death-->evil. traditionally we’re taught that the commandment to choose life is a direct result of all the other commandments- if you do these things you will live. because the things you’re commanded to do are for good, and blessings are the manifestation of your good actions in the world. and if you choose to do the opposite, the result is death/evil/curses. rejecting the goodness of this way of life is a slippery slope to the opposite end. now, if you’ve read this far, you might think (if you’re thinking hard)- this doesn’t sound like a very ‘religious’ thing? because it’s not. i think this concept is pretty universal and relates closely to the idea of karma (as i know it, which is to say not in great detail). do you think this makes sense? i’d love to hear your thoughts.

another great line in this parsha is this one:

“when someone hears the words of this oath (the law from god) and blesses themselves, saying “i will have peace if i follow the vision of my heart, so that the dry may be made moist.” what does the concept of dry/wet have to do with the temptations of the heart?

here are the rabbis interpretations of this incredibly difficult to translate verse:

'to fulfill the desires of my freethinking' (Ralbag); 'to add desire even when he is satisfied' (Rambam; Chizzkuni); 'to let his desires satisfy his craving' (Sforno)

this verse jumped out to me thanks to the ridiculous way my vocabulary has been enhanced by this website- how many of you “thirst” after celebrities? how many of us feel and ache/hole/hunger in the chest when we can’t satisfy our base urges and desires/habits? when we slake this kind of thirst, we allow the body to take over the mind. again, something i’m all too familiar with- the slippery slope of addiction. how can we avoid getting to the point where we believe that satisfying our desires are more important that being good people or following “the law”/morality? and can we come back from it? the following sentence tells us no. god will “blot out” such a person “from under the heavens.” BUT, elsewhere in the torah, and especially on the high holy days, we read over and over again that if we return- god is waiting to welcome us back. mixed messages. 

because of its placement in the parsha, the previous description of the person “thirsting” after the desires of their heart is referring to a person who abandons god’s law to worship other deities instead, which is clarified then by this sentence:

“and they served foreign gods, and bowed down to them, gods they didn’t know, that were not their portion (given to them).” 

these two words “chalak lahem” “their portion” is so huge. it’s not the only place in the torah where we read about the righteousness of other nations. what this phrase is saying is that god is our (the jewish people’s) portion, and that other people have their portion (i.e. other gods to worship- this doesn’t mean that god concedes to polytheism- rather it refers to their practices and beliefs, which they are absolutely allowed to have). the rabbis emphasize that non-jews are not required to follow the commandments of the torah (other than the 7 noahide laws) and therefore there is nothing wrong with that.. if you are not jewish. “abominable” practices and such as they are referred to in the torah are specifically referring to the ancient canaanite and other religions which practiced things like child sacrifice, and not to the later polytheistic religions such as in ancient greece and rome. according to judaism, all the righteous of every nation have a place in the world to come- not just jews. so here’s my question for any christian followers (or ppl who know anything about this)- why is it such a “thing” for christianity to say that if you don’t accept jesus you’re going to hell? because that sure as shit didn’t come from the bible i know...anyways, maybe that’s too controversial a question for this rant. point is- acceptance. people are different from you and it’s totally fine. you (jews) are the ones with a choice- and if you choose wrong, you’re at fault and have to accept the consequences of your choices.

another famous sentence from today’s parsha is this one:

“these commandments are not too difficult or too remote from you. it is not in the heavens. it is not over the seas. it is in your mouth and in your heart, that you may keep it.”

the phrase “lo bashamayim hi”- “it is not in heaven” has been used for ages by rabbinic leadership to justify the flexibility of jewish law (and i use justify in the most non-negative way possible, because that’s pretty much all rabbinic judaism is- a bunch of lawyers sitting around a huge table arguing). the law is not something disconnected from you. it is not esoteric and mysterious and incomprehensible. it is a daily job. it is woven thru every aspect of your being and in every moment of your life. why? because it is a way of life- it is the only way of life we should strive for. because it leads to all those good things. the word tzedakah is usually translated as charity, and as little kids in jewish day school we internalize this assumption because the concept of helping the less fortunate is pretty much the basis for most of our religious education (the tzedakah box from the jewish national fund sits on every teacher’s desk).  but tzedakah doesn’t actually mean charity- the direct translation is “righteousness”. as in, doing the right thing. taking care of others is ipso facto doing the right thing, and so this word has taken on multiple meanings. but doing tzedakah isn’t just caring for others. it means keeping the commandments (of which there are hundreds about caring for others). by keeping all of the commandments we ensure that every person can live their best life. or that’s the goal, anyway.  the law is not in the heavens. it’s for us to understand, and to do, and to manage and to deal with every single day. it’s not for god. it’s for us. for our benefit, not just god’s.

and then the torah goes and says this little gem:

“the hidden things are for god, and the revealed, are for us and our children (until) forever, to do all the things that this torah tells us.”

so there are hidden things now? this is not a surprise. but there’s a reason some things are hidden. the things we know, the things we learn, discover, realize, are meant for us to. this sentence makes me think of “all things in good time,” but also “there are things that we’re just never meant to know.” as someone whose “thirst” has always been oriented towards knowledge, this kind of annoys me. so you’re saying i CAN’T know everything? excuse me. “hidden things” can also be translated as “secret things.” so now god is keeping secrets? yes. what is life in this world without a little mystery? i like to think of science as the thing god keeps revealing to us little by little. every time we discover something new about the world, good things erupt from within it. every time new things are revealed, there are special people who can take it to a level that benefits humanity. so what are the “secret things” that are only for god? we don’t have a clear answer in this parsha, however the words “the hidden things are for god, and the revealed for us and our children until-” all have dots scattered along the top of the letters- something found only a few times in the torah. it’s not clear why, but supposedly this indicates a particularly troublesome or difficult sentence to understand. i would agree. it’s interesting to me that the dots stop at “until” and are not on top of the word “forever.” does this mean that there will one day come a time when the hidden things are also for us? who knows. the only connection i could make from this phrase is to certain practices that we’re commanded not to partake in, specifically witchcraft and necromancy, trying to connect to the dead, etc. it was always easy for me to see the connection between those practices and things that are “meant only for god” (not that i have a problem with other people doing it, but it’s still a struggle for me that the torah says it’s necessarily wrong or bad to do, since it’s something that has always interested me). the other story that comes to mind is that of the high priest Aaron’s sons, who brought a “strange fire” into the tabernacle, and went up in flames for it. it’s one of the most mysterious stories in the torah, and there’s still no reasonable explanation for what actually happened to them. bottom line, i guess? don’t do things where you have no idea what the outcome might be- if the outcome could potentially be really really really bad. i guess that’s enough to keep certain mysteries a mystery. and maybe i’m ok with that.

if you made it to the end of my sermon i applaud you. thanks for taking the time to slog through this former teacher’s quagmire of a mind, and feel free to share your thoughts. i’d love someone to talk to about jewishy stuff.

[black-strike-otp]

LT : Chapter 2

Ya’ll: ??? But???

Me: hush child, you shall See.

For all the terrible sappy fairytales the Cybertronian media had produced before the war, you’d think they’d use a realistic approach to how feelings worked. For instance: love didn’t come easy. It wasn’t dropped in your lap like a present. It wasn’t a single kiss that left the world in a slow-mo reel that made you feel whole. Sometimes you felt lost in your emotions; too lost to feel anything good about the individual you thought you loved.

Love was loyalty. It was commitment. It was dependability; respect, and the ability to forgive. It was going through the bad times together. It was looking for the light and beauty in each other, even when they felt like a foreigner at times.

She had witnessed love. She’d thought to have found love in all the wrong places. She’d lost love, identified infatuations for love, and made others love her. It wasn’t all too surprising that her name was associated beauty and romance. She had enough to snare even the most cold and unruly of their kind with enough time and cunning.

But this love… this kind of love felt like it was real. Alarmingly beautiful. A turbulent mess of highs and lows. Dangerous yet secure.

She wondered what her carrier would think of this mech as she watched him. A stubborn, witty, flirtacious mech like him whom had a thousand different stories that you couldn’t tell which were true and which were lies. But she knew.

A smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. She knew the softness beneath the hot-head, the playful gestures under the sarcasm. The honest answers to the questions of where the scars on his blackened charcoal armor came from and the throbbing hum of his spark. He was certainly a mech of many tricks and legends, but he was more than what others played him to be.

Even as he looked to her now with uncertainty in his violet regard, there was turmoil. The definitions of his shoulders were a stiff hard line and his face a stoic composure. She felt a throbbing pity in her spark seeing him so unsure of himself. The medic, it seemed, didn’t even notice the cues of his unease as he looked over his notes and continued studying his tests.

Tubes and wires plastered on various areas of armor and beneath plating drooped to the floor and connected to various machines. The readings were almost incomprehensible. Thank the Primes for doctors and their ludicrous pedigrees and paperwork. Field medical work was messy and on-the-spot fixes, but Venus’ patchwork had nothing compared to these bots.

For the first in a surprising joor of silence, the anxious mech spoke up: “So, doc, are you going to fill me in on anything or am I supposed to sit here all day?”

“These kind of things take time,” the medic breezily responded without so much as a glance up from his datapad. “Let the machines do their work.”

Clearing her vocalizer, Venus spoke up in a soft-spoken and utterly too sweet voice, “May I go over beside Barricade for moral support…?”

The medical officer looked up. He wasn’t the usual physician they went to see in the ward, but he had been the only one available at the time. Sadly, unlike the mech ‘Cade usually saw, this one wasn’t so flexible in his ideals and not so easily charmed by a pretty faceplate and gentle smile.

“You’re lucky to be in the room,” the mech snapped irritably. “Under normal circumstances, no relatives or friends of a mech in his condition would be allowed anywhere near here.”

An instant sourness crossed Venus’ expression. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

The medic looked over to her with a half-bowed head. His optics were a look of knowing. His face said he didn’t care.

Raising his servo, Barricade spoke in a soothing tone in her direction, “Babe, he’s just looking out for everyone’s safety. I just wanna get this over with as quickly as possible.”

“You’re only agreeing with him because you think the same way.”

“Venus, sweetspark...”

She crossed her arms in front of her chassis, waiting for him to finish. To Barricade’s credit, he chose not to. Instead, his shoulders sagged and he merely pouted in her direction for a nanoklik. His helm slowly dropped, though his gaze would still glimpse to her hopefully.

He wanted her to fear him. Venus couldn’t understand it; not fully anyway. They’d come so far; as trainees in the academy, as friends, as enemies, and as lovers. He never made it easy for her just as she’d never made it easy for him. She wasn’t an easy femme to win over with flaunting good showy looks and a charming smile. She wasn’t swayed by pretty words. She’d learned her lesson time and time again.

Caring for Barricade had been one of the hardest learning curves she’d allowed herself to go through. All the arguing, the backstabbing that had tore them apart as friends. Reconnecting in the most unexpected ways and the gentleness; the thoughtful nature, the fury and wrath he presented to anyone who tried playing her like a tool again.

He cared when so few had even tried.

Slag, Venus had even learned to love the darkness that plagued him. The reality that physically made him lose himself. The reason they were even here, in this stupid office, hoping for good news.

Her fist tightened on her lap. Digits trembled with anger and sorrow.

“Have you been getting enough fuel and energon?”

“Y-Yes, more than the rationed supplies as put in my usual medical treatment giver. As per diagnosed.”

“Any signs of intense hunger, thirst, violent thoughts or feelings towards others?”

“No.”

“Any signs of...”

Venus had to resist the urge to stand up and slap the mech as he hesitated. He made a gesture with his servos against his face like he was growing fangs or something as he opened his mouth.

She’d sock the stupid, thoughtless aft in that ugly maw if he didn’t quit soon.

“No, sir,” vented ‘Cade in a weary tone.

“Hmm. Right. Any other history I should know about? Family, past, work, sexual partners...”

“Oh for frag’s sake,” Venus growled furiously, throwing her arms up.

The doctor shot her an annoyed look, which she returned in kind.

“No, doc. Unless not everything’s in my file with the uh, therapy session...”

“Huh,” the medic mused.

Venus had to grate her derma to keep from barking obscenities at the mech. He seemed so completely oblivious to how his attitude and questions came across to his patients. The insensitivity, the mechanical droid-like actions he took and said without thinking. It was infuriating! He treated Barricade more like a broken chair than a living bot!

“I’ll speak to your usual over the results later, but from all indications here, I’ll put in a word of agreement. It seems that, in theory, your condition is in dormancy.”

“How can that be possible?” Barricade muttered, clearly perplexed.

Ignoring the nasty glance the doctor gave her, Venus pushed herself out of the seat she’d taken residence and stepped over. Her servos reached out confidently, gently cupping his faceplate.

“Because you are a strong, kickaft mech who refused to give up.”

The former Decepticon officer gave a hint of a smile. It warmed her spark, but not as much as the slit shift of his face as he kissed her palm. Such a simple gesture, such a way it made her spark flutter.

“I only fought as hard as my biggest supporter fought for me,” he tenderly responded.

Unacknowledged, the medic stared at the two with a look of disgust. He gruffly made a noise in his vocalizer box as he shifted in place, looking down at his notes.

“Yes well, we can’t be sure if you’ll have any relapses. That said: it appears that whatever happened the day we had dark-energon infused zombies rising from the dead, it seems to have just… gone,” the mech looked up as he continued, “Whatever Shockwave did to infect you, it’s still present in your spark. You’re still most likely contagious, but the disease that inflicted you is just… unresponsive to tests.”

Frowning deeply, Venus placed a servo against her hip and dropped the other to her side. Her mouth was drawn in a firm line as she eyed the medic behind half-closed fuchsia optics.

“You could just say it: you don’t have any fragging clue what’s going on, but you don’t think he’s going to try draining you of fluids so you’re not leaking yourself-”

“Venus!” Barricade hissed.

“-like the piss sparkling you are.”

A vain little grin appeared on the mech’s face as he looked to her. His optic twitched slightly. Venus could only smile smugly in response to the clear irritation the mech was going through. How unfortunate and tragic for him.

Tight-lipped, the doctor finally responded: “In so many polite words, miss, you’re technically correct. We simply don’t have the answers. There’s never been a studied nor reported case like Barricade’s.”

“A half-living half-undead Cybertronian, unable to functionally predict his outbursts of hunger and contain himself, is simply untested and undocumented,” he went on. “He has a walking pathogen in him. We don’t know what it could do, when it will activate. However, from our studies, even when he goes hungry Barricade no longer seems to undergo the transformation to… well, you’ve seen it.”

Impatiently, the ebony-pink femme tapped her pede against the floor.

“Therefore,” the medic testily continued, “We have no conclusive evidence as to why he’s behaving more rationally. We can only continue to prescribe consistency, and keep our optics on him.”

Exhaling slowly to calm herself, Venus leaned in towards the medic. He looked behind himself as he leaned away, giving her a look of doubt and alarm.

Venus took a great deal of pleasure out of his lapse of anxiety. It was even funnier, considering the mech was at least a good two or three feet taller than her.

“Thanks for your insight, doc,” she breathed venomously. “Now if we’re done here, maybe you can take all this crap off my spark’s desire and keep your judgment to yourself, hmm? I thought medic’s were supposed to be unbiased.”

As she spoke, the femme offered her most tantalizing smile. A glimpse of derma and a raised optic ridge to go with it. She slid her arm across the distance to casually, almost seductively caress the side of the medic’s arm.

“I wonder how good a medic is without their servos...”

“F-Femme,” the medic stuttered, taking a step back. “I’m w-warning you-”

“Venus,” Barricade pleaded gently, reaching out for her arm.

Satisfied as it was with the mech’s response, she took a step back from the cowardly physician. Venus’ servo instantly reached out to find ‘Cade’s, offering a reassuring squeeze as palm met palm and digits loosely intertwined.

The medic glowered at her for a brief moment as he straightened himself. With a look of superiority in his gaze, he stepped around the operating table to Barricade’s backside to begin removing monitor cables.

The femme tore her optics off the snotty medic to her beloved to see the accusing look he was aiming towards her. Slightly hurt, Venus pouted just a smidgen and watched the upturn ‘Cade resisted in the corners of her mouth.

Peeling off the last of the cables as he walked around, the medic gave a flick of his wrist towards the door. “You’re free to go, we’ll be seeing you in another mega-cycle.”

“Hopefully not you,” Venus muttered.

“Sure,” Barricade vaguely answered, dropping onto his pedes. His digits squeezed against Venus’ softly as he turned for the door.

Venus allowed herself to be escorted out of the medic’s ward by her mate. Her optics sweeping from side to side; a survival instinct not quite grown out of. Nor was her constant surprise at just how many bots had come to this little refuge. It had already been a surprising size of neutrals when they’d first come here, and ever since the transmission tower had been built, it was a bustling and flourishing underground labyrinth of a city.

They’d decided to keep the majority of their factionless organization where it was safest; in the crust of Cybertron. Although they had to compete and beat back some of the beast’s that had thrived longer in the planet, it was a better bet than the surface in some qualities.

No other groups could determine the size of their utopia from above solely. Groups of warriors were often patrolling the area and the skies to keep the tower secure from any bandits or air strikes. There was still a regular threat from any bots, neutral or otherwise, trying to take advantage of the resources that the countless joining groups and companies brought into their ‘city’.

The place was busy no matter what direction she looked. It was almost like being back in the heat of the war again yet it wasn’t. Bots tended to be friendlier, usually. Maybe not the war then; maybe more like the academy she’d gotten training in before the Bot/Con war.

As they came to a halt outside the entrance to the underground city, Barricade reached around her. His servo skirted against her hips and down her lower back to rest against her lovehandles. As she looked to his face, she caught him staring at her with a stupid fondness on his face.

She felt a warm radiation of heat move from her neck into her face. The hue of pink in her optics brightened as her pulse quickened.

“You lost your cool a bit back there, huh hot-head?” he teased gently.

“Oh- well-” she fumbled, now feeling irritation latch onto her thoughts. “Look maybe if he acted like an actual medic and less like some stupid wimpy slagger, too scared to evaluate you-”

“I know, babe… But he has a right to be scared. A lot of bots saw what I did that day; what I’d become…”

“That doesn’t give him an excuse,” she disagreed with a shake of her head. “It’s his job. He should act more professional.”

Venting heavily, the dark armor toned mech shook his helm. He reached out with his other servo, placing it very carefully upon her waist. The sullen look in his faceplate pulled terribly at her spark.

“I know you aren’t scared of me, Venus, but they are. They don’t understand it any better than I do. It’s unpredictable.”

“You’ve been fine for nearly a year now,” the femme pointed out. “With all the exams and remedies and medicine they hand out to you- ‘Cade, you’ve done nothing but beg for forgiveness since that day. You’ve been complacent to the way they treat you and you shouldn’t be. By the Thirteen, you’ve allowed the curious to play with you like a ragdoll for months so they can see what makes you tick.”

He only gave her an infuriating shrug in response. “If it solves the problem, or can make it easier on anyone else ever fed dark energon, I can live with it.”

Venus narrowed her optics slightly. Of all the things for the mech to say…

She shoved him away. His optics widened as she turned slightly away from him, huffing.

“I miss when you were more selfish,” she growled to herself.

Behind her, the femme could hear the shuffle of Barricade’s pedes as he moved in close again. One arm wrapped around her waist again; his servo resting over her chassis as he slid his helm against her shoulder, beside her face.

“What if I told you I was being selfish?” he breathed.

She snorted with disbelief in response.

“If they ever find a cure for this, my goddess, I know the very first thing I want to do...”

Emitting a sigh, Venus glanced to his faceplate. “And what’s that?”

Triumph blazed in ‘Cade’s twinkling surveying gaze. He leaned in to kiss her cheek swiftly as he beamed a brilliant grin.

“I’m going to make you mine.”

“I’m already yours, you possessive aft,” she laughed, unable to help herself.

“Nuuu-uh,” Barricade crowed in answer, his digits swirling over her chassis lightly.

She jerked an elbow back into his side, resulting in a soft ‘oof’.

“That’s not how you ask someone to be your sparkmate you dolt,” she chided gently, leaning over to kiss the side of his neck.

“Oh come on, I already asked you once before!”

“And I said no.”

“You said yes!”

“The third time you asked.”

“Yes- and it had been a romantic, extravagant, sentimental gesture-”

“The first time it had been,” the femme taunted, “Aren’t you supposed to be a charming womanizer mech? Charm me.”

Relenting, ‘Cade let out a disgruntled ‘hmph’. He nestled his face alongside Venus’ neck as he pulled her closer to himself. A bit taken aback, the femme glanced around. She made awkward optic contact with a few busy bees wandering around off to the right that managed to spot them. They hurriedly looked away and went about their work.

“‘Cade I was kidd-”

“You are a goddess in fact, gorgeous,” Barricade cut in softly. “However, no matter how beautiful and ethereal you may appear, I could have fallen in love with you without optics. It takes a fool not to see the beauty in every part of you.”

Heat thrummed in Venus’ quivering spark as Barricade released her. She stood, a bit dumbfounded for a moment, before he reached out to aid in turning her around. She knew she was gaping a bit at him, but couldn’t seem to stop herself from doing so.

Primus don’t let anyone ogle at them. She wasn’t fond of onlookers.

“You put so many of my needs first, and I appreciate that,” he said with strength and determination in his voice. “If it wasn’t for you, I don’t know if I’d ever have gotten free of Shockwave… I…”

Quirking a smile, she reached out to place a digit against his mouth.

“I love you too”

A softness entered Barricade’s already warm, affectionate purple regard. He kissed her digit lightly.

“You’ve no idea how much I do,” he indicated boldly. “And I’ll prove it.”

“You already do- I was kidding on the whole woeing thing,” she remarked, “Trust me, you’ve got that down pretty good.”

“Oh, do I?~”

“Don’t flatter yourself too much,” she giggled, bumping her hip against his gently.

A warm chuckle followed from Barricade. His optics mostly closed, digits tightening against her side. The small things. Small things like this, the way she could so easily find her place in the world and fall in love all over again. Fall in love with his smile, his caring, his endurance to his beliefs.

As his laughter died away, the mech wondered offhandedly aloud, “I do wonder, however, what has brought on the change in my...”

“Don’t question it; just be grateful,” Venus hurringly interjected. No need to jinx a good thing.

Watching the question still play out on the mech’s features, the stunning femme pulled free of her betrothed’s grasp. He watched her with a look of puzzlement as she indicated with a curl of her digit for him to come with her.

“Come on, darling. We should hurry along. Blackout did say he wanted to see you after that examination, remember?”

“Oh- drat, you’re right. I’ll just blame you,” he laughed. “Distracting me with your own charm.”

“Mmmhm,” Venus hummed, shaking her helm with a suspicious glance. “I’m sure Blackout will definitely believe that. And not that you were getting too handsy.”

“Well, not if you don’t tell him.”

Venus flashed him a kittenish grin as she winked.

“Don’t count on it.”

[thegoodenoughblogger]

“The economic problem of masochism”

Here is a fairly detailed precis of Freud’s paper “The economic problem of masochism,” from 1924.  I was pointed in the direction of this paper by somebody who read my piece on guilt, and it is very clear why: just as the crime is the consequence rather than the cause of guilt, just as that crime may be an attempt to deal with the lack of castration, so the punishment experienced by the masochist atones for some terrible (though unknown) crime the subject once committed.

As the first bullet point suggests, it is interesting to read this in light of a paper written almost a decade earlier, “Instincts and their vicissitudes”.  In another post, I will describe Jean Laplanche’s attempt to reconcile, or at least find a place between, the two different positions that Freud takes in these two papers.

* Previous papers on this subject (other than 3 essays): “Instincts and their vicissitudes,” “A child is being beaten”.  In all of these, masochism is a consequence of sadism.  There is no such thing as “primary masochism”.

* Then in Beyond the pleasure principle, where the death drive is introduced, Freud says there might be…

* …and then in this paper, he says there certainly is such a thing.  He confesses it is odd that there is something primary whose aim is unpleasure.

* He also discusses (following on from Chapter 4 of the Ego and the id) the links between masochism and guilt/conscience/morality.

*

* If we start from the pleasure principle (the avoidance of unpleasure), masochism is incomprehensible, since its aim is pain.

* The pleasure principle, in BPP, was seen as a special kind of “Nirvana principle” or “principle of constancy,” which seeks to keep stimulus to nil, or as low as possible.

* But if they are one and the same, it implies that all heightened stimulus causes unpleasure – which is clearly not true - sexual pleasure relies on heightened stimulation.  So pleasure and unpleasure seem to be based not on the quantity of excitation, but on some aspect of it.

* “The Nirvana principle expresses the trend of the death instinct; the pleasure principle represents the demands of the libido/life instinct; and the modification of the latter principle, the reality principle, represents the influence of the external world.”

*

* There are three forms of masochism: “as a condition imposed on sexual excitation (erotogenic – i.e. where being turned on depends upon feeling pain), as an expression of the feminine nature (feminine), and as a norm of behaviour (moral).”

* Freud starts by discussing feminine masochism, although he describes that by reference to erotic masochism – where the subject enjoys being debased in some way.  “The masochist wants to be treated like a small and helpless child, but, particularly, like a naughty child”.  But the masochist also seems to be in a situation which signifies castration, being fucked, or giving birth.

* “Being castrated—or being blinded, which stands for it—often leaves a negative trace of itself in phantasies, in the condition that no injury is to occur precisely to the genitals or the eyes.”

* “A sense of guilt, too, finds expression in the manifest content of masochistic phantasies; the subject assumes that he has committed some crime (the nature of which is left indefinite) which is to be expiated by all these painful and tormenting procedures.”

*

* In 3 essays, Freud had suggested that sexual pleasure came as a coexisting effect of some kind of internal process – hunger, thirst, discomfort, pain, etc.  To what extent perhaps influences sexual constitution later on.

* But Freud says here that his theory is inadequate, because it says nothing about the connection between masochism and sadism.  He replaces it with another theory, sketched out in Ego and the id: the death drive is dominant in any organism, seeking to disintegrate it; the life drive (libido) seeks to neutralize the death drive, partly by diverting it outwards (through mobility, aggression, mastery, the will to power, etc – and in sexual terms, Freud calls this “sadism proper”).  The part of the death drive that remains “inside” is what Freud describes as “masochism proper,” and when it fuses with sexualized libido, it becomes “bound,” “tamed,” less destructive and wild.

* Freud suggests that, from this, it might be assumed that sadism and masochism were the same, in that instead of being transferred outwards onto objects it remains “inside,” with the self as its object.  I.e. the only thing that distinguishes sadism from masochism is whether the object is external or internal.

* The form of masochism changes according to stages: the fear/desire of being eaten (oral), of being beaten (sadistic-anal), of being castrated (phallic), of being fucked or of giving birth (“final genital organization”)

*

* Moral masochism is a little different.  I no longer submit to the cruel whim of the loved one – indeed, it no longer matters who the bearer of the suffering is.  “The true masochist always turns his cheek whenever he has the chance of receiving a blow”.

* E.g. we see patients who seem to refuse to get better because of a sense of guilt, a feeling of enjoyment at one’s own suffering, and thus a resistance to recovery.  (What may help the subject to feel better is to give him some other form of suffering – a terrible marriage, poverty, illness, etc).  There is some kind of “need for punishment”.

* What is conscious guilt?  A tension between ego and superego: the ego has come up short of the expectations of the superego, and the ego feels anxiety.  

* The superego is “the introjection into the ego of the first objects of the id’s libidinal impulses – namely, the two parents”.  Those first impulses are thus desexualized, though it may have inherited and even strengthened the severity of those objects.  “The superego may then become harsh, cruel and inexorable against the ego which is in its charge.  Kant’s categorical imperative is thus the direct heir of the Oedipus complex.”

* The sexual charge of the Oedipus complex becomes desexualized, becomes conscience and morality.

* Freud makes a subtle differentiation between he whose sense of morality is especially harsh because of an extremely sadistic superego, and he who primarily seeks punishment (and is therefore drawn to sin).  In both, the sadism of the superego is much more obvious than the masochism of the ego.  But in the latter, the subject has gone full circle: his morality, which is a desexualized Oedipus complex, makes him want to sin again, to be punished by a sadistic conscience, or by God or (in the case of actions which are harmful or sabotaging to the self) by Destiny.

[wesleyhill]

Faith’s Longing

A homily from Psalm 37:1-18, preached at Trinity School for Ministry, January 19, 2017

My favorite kind of stand-up comedy is the kind that makes you cringe a little bit with how incisive it is. I like slapstick and silliness and sarcasm as much as the next person, but the really great stand-up is the sort where you can be wiping tears of laughter away at the same moment you feel the comedian’s words sting like sudden heartburn.

Eddie Izzard’s “Dressed to Kill” routine is one of these for me. There’s a bit in it where he’s going off on Hitler, calling him a “mass-murdering #%*&@,” and then he says this:

But there were other mass murderers that got away with it. Stalin killed many millions, died in his bed, well done there; Pol Pot killed 1.7 million Cambodians, died under house arrest at age 72, well done indeed! And the reason we let them get away with it is because they killed their own people, and we’re sort of fine with that…. I know a lot of people who’d love to be under house arrest! They bring you your food… “Just stay here? Oh, all right. Have you got any videos?” You know, you just sit there all day…

And suddenly instead of laughing, you’re dying a little bit inside. Not just from guilt over maintaining your blissful American ignorance of what tyrants choose to do elsewhere in the world, although that’s bad enough, but you’re also dying because it sets every fiber of justice in your soul on edge. How is that Stalin could die peacefully in his sleep, after what he did? How is it that Pol Pot could die in the comfort of his own home after engineering genocide? How is there any godly order in a world where that can happen?

That’s the problem that our psalmist today is exercised by. Psalm 37 is all too keenly aware of “the [evil] one who prospers, the one who succeeds in evil schemes” (v. 8). Casting his eye on their storehouses, the psalmist notices “the great riches of the wicked” (v. 17) like a poor child whose vision is captivated by the vastness of his spoiled friend’s toy collection. “The wicked,” says the poet, “plot against the righteous and gnash at the them with their teeth…. The wicked draw their sword and bend their bow to strike down the poor and needy, to slaughter those who are upright in their ways” (vv. 13, 15). Not only do the wicked prosper; they also persecute.

Every straightforward assessment, everything you can take in with your natural eye, tells you this is the way things are in the world. This is the ordinary course of human affairs: those who long for justice and peace are often denied it; those who cry for mercy are often snubbed by their rulers; those who hunger and thirst for righteousness often starve. The rich get richer at the expense of the poor, and the powerful get their way by steamrolling over the weak.

But the psalmist is not content to leave us with what is straightforward or ordinary or obvious. In defiance of the way the world goes, the psalmist wants to assure us that there is—or will be—a divinely given order to the world. If we were reading this in the Hebrew, we would notice that it is an artfully arranged acrostic poem, in which every other verse begins with a new letter in the order of the Hebrew alphabet. The very form of the psalm is a protest of sorts against the obvious chaos of the world around us.

But it’s not just the form that proclaims a higher order. It is the wise content of the psalm’s affirmations. Listen again to some of his words:

… evildoers shall be cut off,

but those who wait upon the LORD shall possess the land. (v. 10

In a little while the wicked shall be no more;

you shall search out their place, but they will not be there. (v. 11)

But the lowly shall possess the land;

they will delight in abundance of peace. (v. 12)

For the power of the wicked shall be broken,

but the LORD upholds the righteous. (v. 18)

The psalmist is proclaiming the eschatological intervention of God in the face of the horror and chaos of the world as we experience it. The psalmist, in other words, is urging us to have faith—to cling to what we cannot at present see, to bank on what God has promised to do for his elect.

What does this mean? Certainly it cannot mean that evil isn’t real—that tyrants like Hitler and Stalin and Pol Pot, and cancer and depression and suicide and financial ruin, are only apparent and not truly real. If we try to downplay evil and merely whistle in the dark, we miss the heart of the psalmist’s message.

The psalmist doesn’t want us to minimize the theological problem of why the righteous suffer and the wicked prosper. It is he who thrusts that problem in front of us! No, the psalmist wants instead to preach to us that, contrary to all appearances, justice will win out, there will be a kingdom of righteousness and peace, because God will see to it that there is. But it is not yet, and so we are called, in the meantime, to “[p]ut [our] trust in the LORD and do good… [c]ommit [our] way to the LORD and put [our] trust in him… [b]e still before the LORD and wait patiently for him” (vv. 3, 5, 7)—not waiting for God in the sense of passively acquiescing to injustice but waiting in the sense of lamenting and seeking the shalom that God has guaranteed.

As the great Lutheran theologian Oswald Bayer has put it, quoting Luther,

[W]hoever believes lives in [an] agonizing struggle…. It is not in seeing and knowing, but only in the hope of faith that one can believe it is true: the “light of glory … will show that God, whose judgment [in the present] is only incomprehensible righteousness, is most righteous and is completely obvious righteousness, about which we can only believe in the meantime” [Luther]. [Only in the end] the lament will get its answer without an agonizing struggle.

On the eve of the Exodus, the parting of the Red Sea is unfathomable. On Good Friday, Easter is the furthest thing from obvious. And so faith cries out, not in sight or knowledge but in hope: May we one day see the order that You, O God, have promised. May we see the justice that so often eludes us now. May we see the righteousness and peace that we long to taste and know.

And God’s answer to us is that we will.

Amen.

[pregantheimlich]

Feedback to Fandom Followings Thoughts on Turf Wars

Article here: https://www.thefandomentals.com/legend-korra-turf-wars-grounding/

@lokgifsandmusings

Check out Fandom Following, their Game of Thrones reviews are life. On this article, I happened to disagree, so here is my play by play.

I’ll start by outlining my thoughts on Turf Wars: meh. The scope of the story seems like it has shrunken, and I cant imagine that any really significant character development or changes to the cannon will be introduced. The gay stuff is kind ill fitting, sure, but I am quite tickled and gratified to watch characters I’ve known for years interact with this material, and I finally feel like gayness exists in the Avatar verse. I mean, hearing that Aang canonically had an opinion on gayness.. Aang who I grew up with, whom I was almost of an age with once, has canonically acknowledged that gay people exist and is cool about it. Its’ weird-  in a good way, though honestly I feel like i’m reading fanfic.. Overall I’m underwhelmed with turf wars, just because I don’t think the story will be that ambitious or significant, honestly. Kyas gay history 101 was face palming fanficcy, anachronistic and misshapen... Now onto the article.

Something about the argument falls very flat to me. The central point is how sexism in the Avatar-verse isn't so bad, and thus homophobia cannot exist.... Almost like they are two different issues? I understand and agree with the fact that one of the roots of homophobia is heterosexism, but there is more to it than that.

''Our point is, women are just like…there in this universe. They’re not even treated any differently, barring the few exceptions we described above.''

Like, no... Strong women exist, yes. .. That doesn’t mean the universe isn't significantly sexist. The show has chosen to focus on these women, but that doesn’t mean all women have the same life experience... Look at our world, there have always been strong successful women, who rise to the top and make history...By that logic, the real world isn't significantly sexist and therefore institutionalized homophobia simply cant exist, why? Becuase there are strong women.. (???)

'''Any character who said something sexist got immediate, negative feedback, or was ignored, because that’s super weird of them. '''

Or its because they where talking to the protagonists, who are good people, and therefore don’t go along with sexist comments.

''What structural sexism could exist with this history? ((referring to how badass Kyoshi was))''

So your point is, that Kyoshi was an incredibly high status, messianic figure, and so that would make everyone respect all women everywhere? Like... Look at real life.There have been many prophetesses and women who start cults because people think they can perform miracles and the like, and women who rise high in religious establishments, and female saints... Has exposure to what are ostensibly powerful magical women been shown to change societal attitudes toward all women? Joan of Arc was a very forceful character, and she and her followers believed she could speak to God directly... Did this give the patriarchs of the day epiphanies about the intrinsic value of women?

'''But…there’s no societal dominance that men have over women in this world to be upheld, at least not on a broader scale. If there was, we couldn’t have had characters like Toph or Kuvira get the general reception that they did: full acceptance and respect.'''

????? No societal dominance??? How about arranged marriages? We know the monarchies of the Fire and Water nations did it, so I assume their nobility and the small folk follow suit, to a greater or lesser extent. And again, on the Toph and Kuvira point.. Exceptions don’t disprove the rule. High status women and gays don’t negate the power structures in society. 

'''Please, tell us how the concern over Korra not being accepted fits with the world we just described. Who would challenge her? Who would be stupid enough? And how would the potential for that feedback be great enough that she actually needs to navigate cautiously? What are she and Asami in danger of, exactly? Also if this had been such an issue, wouldn’t Asami have exhibited slightly less than the extreme thirst for Korra that we witnessed in Book 3?'''

Surely you understand that their fears (and the fears of real young queer people) are more complex than simply 'I’m afraid I will be literally murdered immediately'... It can be about worrying that people wont love you as much, or wont be able to look at you the same way, even if they don’t outright reject you. It can be feeling that you have let people down, by not having the romantic destiny they had hoped you would have. It can feel humiliating as if the knowledge of it will give people a a glimpse into what you like sexually. There can be issues about which partner is perceived to be the 'top' and which is the 'bottom' and the status differentiation that can be seen to entail. And remember, Korra had no inhibitions about telling people, it was Asami who was reticent. I've never been much of an Asami fangirl, but her anxiety over this rather endeared her to me. It makes sense: she was raised by a man who had very extreme prejudices against a minority group, and Asami seems to maintained free thought about that issue her whole upbringing, but knew to be secret about it. Secrecy and fear of discover over that probably became her modus operandi and recurred over the awakening of her feelings for Korra. Hiroshi was a public figure and must have imparted a sensitivity to reputation and public appearances to Asami. Asami was also bereft of her mother, which may have lead to complications about how she feels about and interacts with women. I think its very understandable that she is not 100% gung-ho about coming out. Also, I don’t understand how anyone can say their flirting was obvious... Grl, I remember how utterly scandalized 90% of the audience was with Korrasami.

'''That is why, in a general sense, homophobia cannot exist on an institutionalized level in this universe, and certainly not to a degree where the spiritual leader would feel unsafe being openly bisexual.'''

?????????? 'Unsafe'??? There are more dimensions to this than physical safety. Spiritual leaders don’t get a free pass form wider society  to do whatever they want without reproach. If you do believe that homophobia comes (almost) entirely form sexism, and you have acknowledged that there is at least some level of sexism in the universe then by your own reasoning there is room for some atmosphere of homophobia, or at least an atmosphere that is not super enlightened or welcoming to The Gays.

''Yet homophobia was introduced in this comic—more or less immediately after Korra and Asami returned to the “real world.” (As an aside, we’re really not fond of *that* particular messaging.)'''

This is a personal comment rather than the Well Reasoned Feedback of the rest of this response post but... That rings quite true in my experience.. When you are with someone, especially when things are new and uncertain, it is like entering another world, where the rules are different. When you come from a world where same sex attraction is absent or is seen as distasteful or just plain bad, and then you meet someone whom you fall in love with.. It can give rise to feelings of disassociation and other-worldliness. And then when the vacation is over, suddenly you are back in the real world, and suddenly the worries about what people will think come at you like a wall.

'''(Talking about Kyas gay history lesson) To put it bluntly, we find all of this incomprehensible given what we know from ATLA and LoK. Literally everything is backwards.'''

Yeah I agree on this one.

''The description of the Water Tribes is more confusing. We wonder if Mike remembered that the Water Tribe was you know…a tribe. Family units are almost always deemphasized in such society, and we know they were in the Southern Water Tribe during ATLA’s run, because we saw it. It was one village with everyone having a collective responsibility to one another.'''

Umm, 'family units de-emphasised''' like no, Marriage was central to the culture... The thing that established family units.

''Let’s start with the Fire Nation. We already explained that it was quite canonically egalitarian. '''

I think this is wishful thinking.... We're never explicitly told that male primogeniture is in effect but.. Look at this family tree...

 See any female Fire Lords (before Izumi)? Nope, all male. Did the firstborn happen to be male for 4 straight generations? Or is something else being implied? See how the women are not prominent, and most aren’t even warranted physical appearances. 

''Azula was treated incredibly seriously and respectfully by everyone she interacted with, be it the governor of New Ozai, or her ship’s captain. '''

Dude... She is literally the princess. The heir apparent to the throne....  And her being privileged and respected is ... evidence of egalitarianism???

''there was simply no indication that a ‘Fire Lord Azula’ would have been met with a single eye blink.''

Female heirs inherit the throne... This is kind of standard procedure for dynasties with no male heir... Not so rare in history.. And remember, Ozai did invent an even higher seat for himself: the Phoenix King' so Azula is still subservient.

''But any systemic sexism was gone by Ozai’s time given what we saw in ATLA, so… Was Ozai a wonderful feminist reformer for the Fire Nation’s military?''

 Sozin outlawed same-sex relationships, which apparently also implies he was sexist and against women in the military? These issues are linked, sure, but they aren’t the same issue.

''Are gay couples somehow targeted without women’s rights being an issue at all? We certainly can’t think of many examples in our world where this was the case.'''

???? Hmm, can we think of societies where the cause of women’s rights are more advanced than gay rights ??? Let me think about thisss... Hmmmmmmmmmmm. How about the entire western world, who have all but secured equal rights under the law for women, but have only just begun to examine how laws affect LGBT+ people... Of course, sexism isn't solved completely, even in the legal arena, but they are literally a hundred years  ahead of gay rights.  

''' He was trying to wage war on the biggest kingdom; he was seriously going to begin oppressing his own citizens, all of whom would probably take issue with his out-of-the-blue hyperfocus on gay couples? What, had he been scapegoating them for years, laying the groundwork? '''

Rulers with supremacist and imperialist ambitions begin by  fracturing, scapegoating and oppressing groups within their own country.. Yep, again this is quite true to life.. I don’t understand why this seems unrealistic to you, especially since you have noted the gestapo imagery... (Which I do agree is anachronistic and out of nowhere)).

''More to the point, if this shit was happening, there would be rioting! Civil Wars! ''

The gay 'community' has never existed as a unified mass ever in history before now. Homosexuality was a practice not an identity. People didn't think of themselves as gay, and didn't unite or think about their legal rights the way we do today... Even in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, where tiny tiny groups where coalescing, there was never any alliances big enough or confident enough to form militias or rally the general population.

'''we refuse to believe that this wouldn’t have been an issue EVERY SINGLE AVATAR would have dealt with until it was fully rectified.'''

Just.. What?? Why should we assume that ANY avatar even significantly recognized homosexuality, and even if they did, why do we assume its on their priority list? This is so anachronistic.. We may as well wonder why any  Air Avatar didn't outlaw meat eating, or any lowborn avatar didn't invent marxism, or any female avatar would outlaw arranged marriages or male primogeniture. We seem to be assuming here that every avatar is a moral paragon and therefore is automatically a 2017 post-structuralist inter-sectional feminist, whose number 1 goal is to bring about liberal utopia, nad comes out of the box with enlightened understandings about homosexuality.

''we’re still left with the questions about feminist-reformer-Ozai, who went on to champion his own daughter (and a younger sibling to boot) as his successor, so…?'''

Well, Ozai himself was a younger sibling, remember, who thought he was more fit to rule because he was more psychopathic than his empathetic elder sibling, like Zuko and Azula.

''(Talking about Kyoshi) If there had somehow had been homophobia present on a large scale, we can’t imagine that Kyoshi, being queer herself, would have allowed this to continue. In fact, wouldn’t she have used the Dai Li to eradicate it, at least to the point where she could find acceptance?'''

It seems like although she practiced same sex relationships, she didn't add 'bisexual' to her identity. Quite probably the label didn't exist.. Like in real life, same sex relationships where seen as a sexual practice, not something you are or that you would publicly speak about, even if it wasn’t a super shameful secret. I dont think it implied that Kyoshi lived in shame.. She dosent seem the type to hung up on what people think of her at all. Kya just meant that people didn't acknowledge or understand that part of her. 

''but we have to imagine she’d be able to have influenced the laws and protections to at least have “found acceptance” and effect change. '''

I feel like your perspective is thoroughly couched in a modern day 'coming out' narrative and advocacy and reform culture... That said, it does seem that Mike wrote this from a perspective that is also jarringly modern, so maybe its appropriate to match him in that.

''There literally can’t be large-scale and widespread homophobia in a place with such an ineffectual centralized government. ''

Literally what. Like.. Think of any ineffectual centralized government in the entire world... Okay, now tell me, is the society it presides over homophobic? The answer is always yes no matter where you think of..

''The issue is that with a (mostly) closeted Kya, it means the Avatar-verse is actually worse than our own world. She’s like a celebrity (secluded acolytes with Air Nation blinders on excluded). She’s the daughter of one of the most famous people who ever lived, ever. ''

Why is this surprising? I don’t understand.. Like in the last 30 years in the west is the only time and place in history where public figures could come out and be like 'Yo guys I'm exclusively sexually and romantically attracted to people of the same sex as me, kthnxbye'. And even then, it has diminished careers and tarnished reputations...

''We’re expected to believe that Aang would have let his daughter feel unsafe to be herself? We’re expected to believe that Katara—KATARA—would have let such an injustice stand?'''

Well, Kya did say Aang was nothing but supportive.. But, even if your parents are great, you are still a tiny minority in a big wide world.. Shes almost 2 generations removed from Korra and Asami... It just feels very true to life and poignant for Kya to have gone through these issues. We know she was a drifter for much of her life, and has commitment issues. Indecision and internal conflict are very congruent with unease about sexual identity.

''On a Watsonian level, the implication of this portrayal (where Korra and Asami need to proceed with caution) is that this homophobia exists on an institutionalized level,''

You are continually looking for 'institutionalized' homophobia to explain why Korra and Asami have qualms about coming out. I would like to differentiate institutionalized homophobia from cultural homophobia. It doesn’t seem that explicitly anti-gay laws of governmental bodies are at play here, it seems more... interpersonal.. They are just fretting that people would treat them differently, or look at them differently, that’s all. And that’s quite understandable, considering it seems then neither of them knew they could be attracted to women before this relationship. It has changed how they see themselves.

''.....Toph or Azula or Mai or Lin or Suyin or Kuvira can’t really exist, at least not without getting a ton of gendered feedback all the time.''

#stop #the #conflation #of #sexism #and #homophobia. They are not separate but they are not the same. Any society at any time can provide examples of individual women being prominent while the gays are still invisible or thrown under the buses.

'''Boy oh boy do we love thinking about our faves letting their daughter live in abject terror, and the shit Kya herself must have gone through!''

It is sad to think about... But.. the critical examination of Aang as a parent is kind of a running theme already isn’t it? He was supportive to her, and at some point people do become adults and their issues are their own, and cant be laid at the feet of their parents anymore.

''Especially given that Turf Wars suggests a worse world than our own with regards to homophobic feedback. You know…for kids!''

Does it? Lets recap how things went: girl tells parents she is dating another girl. Mom: cool dude.

 Dad: cool man, be careful.

 Korra: fuck you dad. 

Korra: *tells lesbain aunt*. 

Kya: samesies. it used to be bad but no bigs. 

Korra: *to friends* guys im ghey as frick

 Friends: cool dude. 

 That’s really the best scenario anyone could hope for today, isn't it?

'''The Kya conversation didn’t land for us, not just because it broke from the canon of the franchise, or because it began with a 60-year-old woman Korra and Asami are not particularly close to offering an uninvited remark about how beautiful of a couple they are (are we alone in thinking that this would be weird??), but because the entire premise of the conversation is a little cringe-worthy in our opinion.

First of all, Kya lives in the Southern Water Tribe with her mother. Yeah, she’s not glued there, and we know she’s helping with relief efforts at the evacuee camp, but our point is that a conscious decision was made to warp her to the United Republic, simply because “who else could offer gay advice but another gay?”''

Yeah same. It does feel that this was written by a heterosexual who doesnt quite understand what its like, though to be fair so does this article (burn). 

'''we have to assume the rather affluent Hiroshi Sato got his daughter education that included these basic lessons.''

Idk, minorities being cut out of the history we teach to young people rings true to life tbh.

___

Sorry, didn’t mean to be overly critical. I think I’m biased toward liking Turf Wars because of my own personal experience rather than any actual merit it has. I look forward to reading Fandom Followings thoughts on part 2.

[anoldwound]

Unsaid - Aro/Carlisle [Twilight]

Title: Unsaid Characters/Pairing: Aro/Carlisle, Volturi Rating: PG-13 Spoilers/Warnings: Spoilers for New Moon; some mild sexual content Word Count: 2263 Summary: How he longed for some new companionship -- a bright new face, to bring some cheer into this repetitive existence. A/N: Inspired by the epic re-read over at sortofbeautiful. I've been in a creative slump lately, so I have no idea if this is good or not, but I hope you all like it anyway. Aro was starting to become intensely bored. There were only so many things one could do for X amount of years, after all, and seeing the same pale faces day after day… well, things got to be quite dull. How he longed for some new companionship -- a bright new face, to bring some cheer into this repetitive existence. Later that day, Carlisle Cullen showed up at the proverbial Volturi doorstep. ---- Carlisle was a study. The man was just so intriguing… Aro hadn’t even touched him yet, because the mystery was just too much fun. He didn’t want everything all laid out in front of him, not just yet. Carlisle had come before them, somber and serious, blond hair falling in front of face (a beautiful face it was, too, one of the most beautiful Aro had ever seen), asking permission to be brought into their coven. Aro could sense an air of loneliness about this man; he was a solo traveler, clearly, and was desperate for contact with others. For companionship. Well, Aro was completely ready to give it to him. “Come with us tonight,” he said, arms spread wide in a show of friendship. “We’re hunting in the village over -- word has it that a group of humans have decided to stay there for the night, and if we act quickly we can catch them before they leave.” A look of horror flickered across Carlisle’s face, but his expression quickly smoothed. “I do not hunt humans,” he said, as though this were the most normal thing in the world. The entire room seemed to drown in shocked silence. The rest of the coven stared at this bizarre creature with incomprehension. Surely he could not be serious! Aro’s laugh echoed. “Oh, what a delightful joke! I see you are going to be an excellent addition to parties. Come, now, let’s go.” “I’m not joking.” Carlisle looked up at him. “I’m quite serious.” His mouth fell open slightly. “But… how? Why? How do you survive?” “I feed off of animals.” More silence. “I’m afraid I don’t understand,” Aro said, frustrated. He reached his arm out towards him… But Carlisle suddenly backed out of the way. “I’m against hunting humans. I refuse to kill a human being -- it’s wrong. And I won’t do it.” Caius chuckled darkly. “So naïve,” he muttered. Aro shot him a look, then turned back to Carlisle. “I see. But… how do you do it? How can you possibly -- control it? The thirst?” “I don’t know. I just do.” Aro chewed on his lip, his brow knitted in confusion as he looked upon the man standing before him. He had to be fooling them somehow. Playing a trick. There was just no way… “Very well,” he finally said. “You’ll stay here for the night.” As the arrangements were being made, Aro could not help but stare at Carlisle in fascination. He desperately longed to touch him, to understand, to know… but just when his fingers were within reach, Carlisle managed to evade his grasp. Aro smiled. How he did love cat and mouse games! ---- The two of them were alone the following night, after Aro had attended to all of his affairs. Their steps echoed down the long, narrow hallway, Aro’s hands clasped behind his back and Carlisle’s folded neatly in front. “Tell me how you’re doing, Carlisle,” Aro said, enjoying the sound of his name rolling from his tongue. “I’m curious as to what you’ve been up to.” Carlisle shrugged. “Your home is beautiful.” “I thank you. But really, tell me how you are! I know almost nothing about you -- which is not something many people can claim, I assure you.” He looked confused. “Oh, yes, I haven’t told you, have I?” He bit back the grin threatening to overtake his face; it was always such a pleasure to tell someone new about his powers. “Well, you see, I’m able to know the entire history of a person’s life -- every thought they’ve had, every action, every person they’ve ever known. Only, I have to be touching the person in order to do so. You, my dear Carlisle, are one of the few people I’ve met whose entire life I am not aware of.” Carlisle seemed impressed. He nodded, looking down at the floor. “So shy,” Aro murmured. He could feel every inch of his being reaching out to this mysterious man, but managed to restrain himself. He was positively giddy at the thought of having to figure it all out on his own, without his powers. His existence could use some excitement. “I’m not shy,” Carlisle said, looking up at him, his strange, lightly-colored eyes seeming to bore right into him. “I’m just… surprised. I didn’t know our kind could have extra abilities.” “Oh, we most definitely can! Marcus, for example -- he is able to see the relationships between people; it’s quite fascinating! And it makes it incredibly difficult to have secret romances around here, I can tell you.” He winked. “Hmm.” They strolled in silence for a few more minutes, when Aro asked, “Is it true, though? That you don’t hunt humans? Be honest, now.” “It’s true.” “You’re sure you’re not trying to fool us? It wouldn’t be the first time someone’s tried, you know.” “I’m not. I honestly don’t eat human beings.” He took a deep breath. “And I would’ve thought that the Volturi didn’t either. I’ve heard that you’re supposed to be the civilized vampires.” Aro let out a laugh of delight. “But we are, dear Carlisle! We’re the ones who keep order, make sure the other vampires don’t break the rules. Otherwise, there would be mass chaos around the world. Going against our nature by hunting animals rather than humans wouldn’t make us more civilized, just more… repressed.” “I don’t feel repressed at all.” “Oh, come now.” “I don’t. I feel… in control. I feel as though, even though I’ve been turned into this horrible monster, I’m still obeying the word of God and I’m still in control of my destiny. I don’t want to kill people -- I didn’t while I was alive, and I still don’t, even though every time I’m in a crowd of people, or smell someone particularly alluring, my bloodless body cries out for theirs. Am I supposed to just let my violent and cannibalistic ‘instincts’ take over merely because I am a vampire and that is the way it’s supposed to be? Why, when I can control my thirst and carry out a meaningful existence that is not fraught with sin and evil? It’s not easy, but it is certainly worth it.” “But why bother? Why bother, when we are all damned regardless?” “I don’t think we’re all necessarily damned by default, especially since virtually none of us chose this life. How can we be damned for something we did not choose? However, for those of us who feast on the flesh of humans, and never mend their ways, even when they know of an alternate path…” His sentence trailed off uncertainly. Aro couldn’t help but feel awestruck. He could not possibly imagine the self-control and restraint this man must have -- the overwhelming compassion and faith he had in the human race and even creatures such as themselves. It was inspiring. “Well,” he said, “that’s certainly another way of looking at it.” Carlisle smiled for the first time since Aro had laid eyes on him. “It’s a philosophy that’s served me well, I think.” “Perhaps you could teach us a thing or two.” He highly doubted it, but it felt like the right thing to say. “Perhaps.” They progressed down the hall, and Aro felt an entirely different sort of giddiness. ---- It wasn’t too long (three weeks, in fact) before Aro found himself completely and hopelessly smitten with Carlisle. Carlisle brought a different sort of air to the place, somehow -- one that was filled with cheer rather than boredom, happiness rather than the doldrums. Marcus kept giving him strange looks, which made him wonder if, perhaps, Carlisle felt the same way. “You do realize what a fool you’re being?” Marcus whispered to him one day. Carlisle and Caius were having a conversation on the other side of the room. “A fool? Marcus, that’s the worst thing you’ve called me since -- well, since this morning, when you called me a pig for simply wanting to get some breakfast.” “We just hunted last night--!” Marcus stopped himself from further pursuing that particular subject. “But never mind. Your feelings about Carlisle… ” His face scrunched in disapproval. Aro burst out laughing. “Your power never fails to amaze me, Marcus!” Marcus scowled. “But there’s nothing to worry about,” Aro continued, “It’s just a passing fancy, is all. I’m sure to be over it by the week’s end.” “I suppose you want to know if he feels the same way,” Marcus said. “Well… that might be nice, yes.” “Unfortunately, I’m not going to tell you.” And with that, he floated away. Aro sighed. Marcus was so utterly unpredictable sometimes. It made him quite interesting to be around, though -- irritating, yes, but interesting too. And besides, this was a perfect opportunity for figuring out another mystery about Carlisle without touching him. Yes, the mystery of Carlisle. Knowing anything for sure about him would just ruin everything. ---- “I don’t like him.” “Caius --” “He’s a fine man, but I don’t want him around us. He keeps going on and on about the immorality of hunting humans; it’s supremely annoying.” “Ah, but different viewpoints are an excellent thing to have around! And he’s not attempting to stop us, at any rate, so I don’t see what the harm is.” “But he aggravates me.” Caius was actually pouting a little. “Well, I like him, so he stays.” “I think you like him a little too much,” Caius said, his face twisted with disgust. Aro frowned. “That is no concern of yours,” he said coldly. “Isn’t it?” He stalked off, leaving a lip-chewing Aro behind him. If these were the reactions from his closest companions… what could he expect from everyone else? From Carlisle? He was a fool. ---- Aro thinks that he probably wanted Carlisle since he first saw him. Such a beautiful creature… really such a waste, not being able to explore every inch of his body, not to let his fingers gently graze down, down, down, down into uncharted territory. To not feel the smooth hardness of Carlisle’s skin against his paper-thin hands. He mostly admires from afar, from behind columns and behind books in the library. It's great fun, following him like this, darting around corners so as not to be noticed. Carlisle spends a lot of time in the library, poring over a large variety of books having to do with everything from astronomy to mathematics to medical science. Carlisle tells Aro he is a doctor, and Aro can hardly be surprised. “It’s only natural that your compassion should extend to helping others,” he said, smiling, although he still could not quite understand why Carlisle would rather help humans than eat them. But, such was the nature of Carlisle. Aro wasn’t going to question it. It was part of why he liked him so much. Carlisle smiled back, and went back to his book, his lips pursed in thought. Aro didn’t even bother trying to disguise the fact that he was staring; he was enjoying soaking in Carlisle's face too much. Ah, look, Carlisle noticed his appreciative gaze; he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, although Aro couldn’t tell whether it was the good kind of uncomfortable or the “Get away from me, you sick pervert” kind of uncomfortable. Hopefully it was the former. Aro didn’t think he could stand knowing Carlisle thought such things about him. Maybe that was the real reason he didn’t want to find out Carlisle’s thoughts. ---- “I’m sorry we didn’t have the answers you were looking for,” Aro said apologetically as Carlisle stood ready to leave. It didn’t seem as though much time had passed since Carlisle had arrived before he was suddenly leaving. Aro could not quite believe how he had managed to go so long without touching Carlisle -- or touching Marcus, to find out what Carlisle felt about him. He was too frightened to find out. A coward. Funny -- he had never thought of himself as a coward before. But he guessed that having such intense feelings for someone could do that to you. “It’s not your fault,” Carlisle was saying. “Clearly I am alone in my philosophies… I must find my own answers.” “Perhaps it’s for the best,” Caius said. He couldn’t hide his pleasure in Carlisle’s leaving in his voice. “Perhaps.” He seemed to hesitate, then extended his hand towards Aro. He looked down at the hand stupidly. “What -- oh.” Here it was. The pivotal moment. If his heart could beat, it would be beating at breakneck pace right now. Fear clenched at his insides as he reached for Carlisle’s hand, the doubts and the worries swirling around in his mind. He would not simply not be able to stand it if Carlisle thought him disgusting, he just would not. The thought was completely and utterly terrifying. He could not remember being this afraid in his entire vampire life. Their skins touched. As they shook hands, Carlisle and Aro looked directly into each other eyes. A rush of memories came flooding into Aro’s mind, and -- When the shake broke, Aro couldn’t help but let a soft chuckle escape from his lips. “Well,” he said. “Well,” Carlisle said.