#part of that perception in particular is people taking the voice acting way too seriously lmao

[the-hype-dragon]

just been replaying FF7 and thinking how disappointed I was that it didn't just get a straight remake, haven't played the remake simply because it's a bait and switch AU

but anyway idk why but this particular boss battle amused me so much, when I was younger I swear this game wasn't so funny but in spite of the dark tone it takes a lot of the time FF7 is probably the funniest 3D entry, here's our techno-soldier, our R&D guys asked themselves, what would happen if you crossed the Terminator with a toilet?

(the 90s were very weird)

maybe I'll take more screenshots later but the only way I could really enjoy this game was with Yuffie and Cid as Cloud's backup dancers, holy crap they just turn it into a completely different game. FF7 has this reputation as being very serious and emo but it really wasn't, at all lmao. I wish more games were like that, where EVERY scene changes depending on who's in the party. I had such a blast, I kind of kick myself for hating this game for so long, I just didn't know how to play it lmao

[hydrangeapartridge]

Title: Mind Body and Soul - Chapter 6

Pairing: Mage!Shinsou x reader

Link to AO3 here

Summary: Once upon a time there was you: a nobody, a refugee from a country devastated by Dabi’s undead army, serving as a maid in king Todoroki’s castle. There, fate decided you would cross path with the mysterious and dreaded court mage Hitoshi Shinsou. Little did you know that particular encounter would change your life forever.

Rating: M

Tagged people <3 (tell me if you want to be added): @maple-syrup-with-strawbewwies @moonlitmoonpie @obeythehuman

Chapter 6: The Spirit (under the cut!) - (link to chapter 1, 2 , 3, 4, 5)

A few weeks passed and the fire incident was forgotten. Shinsou had his burnt desk and shelves replaced. You kept busy with your studies, and soon were allowed to train with the spirits of air, earth, and fire (but only under strict supervision for the latter). You also started reading a few treaties about healing magic, only to realise you would first need to master anatomy and semiology. To treat a disease, one should first know how to recognise it. The road ahead of you would be long to become a proper healer. So for now, you took it slow, keeping the medicine themed books as bedtime readings, and focusing during the day on the other wide areas of magic.

Despite racking your brain with the question every time you had a chance to, you still had no clue what Shinsou’s spirit of affinity could be. The man was simply so skilled at anything he did (except healing magic, like he kept repeating), that you didn’t see how you could spot his best area of expertise. You once joked that he had a particular affinity with book spirits, only to be seriously reminded that those spirits don’t actually exist.

You were pondering the enigma that was your teacher while climbing the numerous stairs of his tower. You unconsciously rubbed your arms to warm yourself up and alleviate the goosebumps raising on your exposed skin. Winter slowly turned to spring and you had opted to wear a short sleeved dress today, on Monoma’s advice. But maybe it was too early to dress so lightly, especially when travelling the more desolated and unheated areas of the castle.

Once atop the stairs, you hastily entered Shinsou’s office, where the temperature was thankfully a bit higher. There, you found your master kneeling, his back to you, white chalk in hand, busy drawing strange patterns on the floor.

“Are those … runes?” You asked.

You read about runic magic, but only superficially, as part of your learnings of what magic could do and what forms it could take. It was far too advanced for you to tackle with your current knowledge.

“Correct. And can you tell me what do we use runes for?” Shinsou of course took your curiosity as an opportunity to turn the situation into a lesson. You grew to appreciate these impromptu lectures more than the planned ones, and decided that you enjoyed his way of teaching. You never had another magic teacher of course, nor did he have a student before, but you were satisfied to find that you both enjoyed your interactions. You were positive that you wouldn’t have wanted to learn magic any other way.

“Runes channel the energy needed for spells. Acting like instructions or sometimes triggers for activation. Using runes allows one to summon more complex spirits, or to prepare spells ahead of time for traps or to protect a defined area. They can also be used to enchant objects or even contact spirits and beings of the Otherworld….” Your voice grew quieter at that last part. You hadn’t forgotten the encounter with the Djinn. The memory sent a shiver of dread down your spine, your instinct telling you that if Shinsou summoned one once, he would be likely to do it again. And him doing it right now was a possibility.

“Yes, excellent” Shinsou praised your knowledge. He quickly glanced at you, interrupting his work to assess you. He frowned slightly at your stiff posture. “Do not worry, I am not summoning another Djinn” Ever so perceptive, he reassured upon seeing your obvious distress. “This circle is designed to allow us to converse with the spirit I’m looking for during a short period of time only. I’m definitely not materializing it in our plane of existence”

His words made you relax instantly. You let out a short sigh before letting your curiosity take over again. “What spirit are you summoning?”

“A spirit of curiosity” Shinsou humoured you as he returned to his complex drawing. “They can give good insight. My master often conversed with them. He enjoyed their company”

You knew from your readings that spirits that embodied certain emotions or complex feelings could be found in the Otherworld. They fed on the emotions coming from other planes of existence, like yours. Some were more dangerous than others; the book had especially warned its readers about the spirits of wrath and that of lust, which should be avoided.

Shinsou soon stood up, dusting his hands free of the white chalk and then turning to you. “Before we begin, you have to know that this is very advanced magic. Not something you should try by yourself anytime soon.” The bland yet serious stare he gave you made you self conscious. You couldn’t help but look down to your feet. He hadn’t forgotten about the fire you started in this very same room. Neither did you, but you had learnt your lesson, and since then, had behaved.

“I get it. I don’t get to experiment by myself like you do. I remember how it went last time…” You sighed.

The rustle of Shinsou’s robes made you look up. He had stepped closer to you, his features softened with empathy. “I do not mean to scold you or to deter your motivation” He clarified. “I simply wish to warn you about the dangers that some forms of magic can present”

You nodded your head. From the beginning of your training, Shinsou made a point to repeatedly warn you of every danger you could face while learning the subtle, powerful but risky art of magic. He often told you about mage apprentices finding their gruesome end during an experiment gone wrong. He insisted mages should stay humble before the mysteries and forces of the world, and should never let the power they were gifted blind them, less that power consume them. It was clear that Shinsou only wanted to protect you from harm, but sometimes it was still a little bit annoying. You weren’t an irresponsible child, and you wished he wouldn’t treat you like one.

“I saw the danger coming from the first being of the Otherworld I encountered very clearly” You retorted, thinking back to the Djinn again.

“That one was particularly menacing” Shinsou agreed, not commenting on your bitter tone. “But other spirits can be more insidiously threatening. For example the one your are about to see shouldn’t be contacted without being prepared. Whether it be using protective runes, spells or artefacts.” He pointed to a particular set of runes he traced around the summoning circle. “This sigil is a barrier. The spirit won’t be able to leave the circle, and won’t be able to tamper with the spirits of our plane. Including our own spirits”

“What do you mean our ‘own spirits’?” You inquired, and Shinsou smirked at how your voice lost its biting tone, replaced by curiosity.

“Beings of the Otherworld are very powerful spirits. Conversing with them even though possible for mages still remains rather unnatural. The body, the soul and the mind of an untrained human, even wielding magic are unprepared to deal with a spirit’s marvellous’ presence. One could go mad from it. Some mages spent hours admiring spirits or so engrossed in their conversations with them that they let themselves starve to death, forgetting their own body’s needs”

Your eyes widened and you gulped at yet another horrible fate suffered by fellow mages. You had to wonder how could something as marvellous and fantastic as magic be so scary and dangerous. Magic was two sided it seemed; sometimes beautiful, sometimes cruel. Sometimes warm and bright, sometimes cold and dangerous. Not unlike a certain court mage, you thought.

“That doesn’t really make me want to learn to speak with those beings” You finally commented, crossing your arms protectively over your chest. You sighed, frustrated at the complexity of the art you were eager to discover, but somewhat forced to pursue. “Everytime I feel like I’m progressing, I learn that there is a new kind of tricky spell or ritual that is extremely difficult to master, and I realize how dangerous all of this is, and how impossible it will be for me to become a decent mage before I’m all wrinkles and achy joints….”

Shinsou tried to hide a snorting little laugh by coughing in his hand. His reaction slightly lifted up your spirit, and so did his next words.

“You are being too hard on yourself” Shinsou softly said, stepping even closer to you, until you caught a waft of the fresh flowery scent that was clearly his. “Your progress is impressive. You learnt in a few months what represents a couple years of training of a younger apprentice”

You felt your cheeks heat up under the praise, and your eyes found your boots again. Yet, Shinsou continued. “Your situation is different than that of scholars like myself. You do not have to learn every spell or every ritual to become a talented healer”

You felt his fingers graze a stray strand of hair that fell in front of your eyes. He carefully tucked it behind your ear while you looked up, frozen, yet burning up under his delicate touch. Shinsou’s deep violet eyes were on you; unreadable but intense. You suddenly felt very shy and self conscious under his unwavering attention. You inhaled shakily, struggling to hold his gaze, itching to look down to his lips when his knuckles brushed your cheek as he stepped back, finally releasing you from the spell he had you under.

He cleared his throat, putting some more distance between the two of you. “It is the endeavour of mages who focus on research like me to dedicate their lives to learning every spell in the book and research new forms of magic. You on the other hand, should simply go with what feels right”

He graced you with a small smile that reassured you just as much as it made your heart beat faster in your chest. “Are you saying I’m not a complete disaster of a student?” You teased, trying to ease the tension you felt growing between the two of you while also admittedly fishing for more praise. It just felt to good to be acknowledged.

Shinsou blinked, surprise painting his delicate features. “I never said you were” He retorted, expression open and honest.

Despite his declaration, you couldn’t help but feel insecure about the subject. “Well I did set your office on fire…” You nervously bit your lower lip before asking “Yet you don’t regret taking me on as an apprentice?” You asked.

It was only fair that he would feel that way. After all, he had to save you from a monster and vowed to protect you, a total stranger. He then took it upon himself to face the consequences of his actions by taking you as an apprentice, to make sure you no further harm would come your way. He dedicated a large part of his precious studying time to teaching you, and had to suffer your whims.

Shinsou frowned “Were you under the impression that I did?”

He sounded ticked off, and you flushed, unprepared for him to throw the question back at you.

“You always do that!” You accused, getting frustrated.

“Do what?” He asked, seemingly clueless.

You clicked your tongue, waving your hands in annoyance. “You avoid answering my questions and ask another one instead. You always do that.” You accused.

His frown deepened, and for a second he was at a loss for words, caught red-handed into his shady habits. The silence fell heavy between the two of you, and you started regretting bringing up that subject.

“I do not regret taking you as my apprentice” Shinsou finally graced you with an answer. His tone was factual, when you expected it to be acidic. “Now, can I proceed with the summoning?” He asked, like your opinion on the matter would really make a difference in what he would do.

Upon your silence, Shinsou resumed his work, lighting the candles symmetrically placed at the edge of the summoning circle with a wave of his hand.

“Why are you summoning a spirit of curiosity?” Even if you weren’t satisfied with how the previous conversation went, you couldn’t resist asking questions just a few seconds later, arms still crossed over your chest.

“A good question. Maybe I shouldn’t need to given I have one right here beside me” Shinsou teased you, a devilishly handsome smirk on his lips.

There was no bite to his reply, and yet you grimaced, feeling your cheeks heat up. That was clearly payback for putting him on the spot earlier.

He chuckled, and that sound shouldn’t sent butterflies flying in your belly “At ease my curious apprentice. I’m just teasing. I already told you curiosity is a healthy quality for a mage” Shinsou’s smooth voice soothed your raised hackles before you could lash out at him. You hated how he made your blood boil.

He focused back on the circle, his back to you. His shoulders looked tense. “I intended to ask the spirits a few questions” He finally graced you with an answer to your initial question. “But now that you’re here this session will better serve as a lesson for you”

His phrasing had you wonder if there were things he wanted to ask the spirit that he didn’t want you to hear. But you kept that thought to yourself. Once he was done with the many candles, Shinsou placed an hourglass in a smaller simple circle contiguous to the larger and more complex circle of runes and sigils.

He turned to you, explaining its purpose “A time limit. To be sure we don’t get carried away”

That was a lot of preparation for a short interview with the spirit. As the beginning of the ritual edged closer, you grew nervous. The last one you witnessed had been unexpected and scary. Curiosity didn’t sound like it could be a dangerous spirits, but you still felt wary of this particular type of magic.

“You spoke about protection. As a more inexperienced mage, do I need to do something in particular?” You trusted your cautious master wouldn’t have forgotten to tell you about such an important detail, but still, you needed to ask, to calm your rising nerves.

Shinsou’s amethyst gaze bore into yours. “No need to worry. You are under my protection” He told you, steadily but confidently. Your heart fluttered and your stomach churned. Inside that ritual circle weeks ago, he vowed to protect you. Words were binding. That promise hadn’t been an empty way to prevent an evil spirit from eating your soul, that you now knew. Still, you didn’t know whether to feel flattered or annoyed at Shinsou’s cockiness. Wasn’t he a bit full of himself, thinking himself so powerful that he could save you from the many threats he kept warning you about?

Before you, Shinsou took a deep breath. At the flick of his wrist, the circle started glowing and the hourglass turned around by itself, the sand slowly spilling from the upper part to the lower part. Shinsou started chanting psalmodies in latin; the meaning of the incantation completely lost on you.

Soon, before your bewildered gaze, the spirit manifested. Its form was like smoke; immaterial and ethereal, glowing golden and oh so very beautiful. You had never seen such a pretty face, though not truly feminine nor masculine, it was impossibly alluring. So was its body, undulating in a mesmerizing, otherworldly dance. You were captivated, and at loss for words, unable to look away from the magical apparition. But to your chagrin, the spirit’s attention wasn’t drawn to you.

“My my, if it isn’t little Hitoshi” The spirit’s voice was all honeyed sweetness and bubbly laughter. Music to the ears. In the wonder of this new experience, you still noted that they were addressing Shinsou by his first name.

The spirit’s attention turned to you, and you felt your skin tingle under their alluring gaze. “And who is this with you?” They asked, a playful lilt to their voice. They were without a doubt the embodiment of curiosity.

“This is my apprentice” Shinsou eyed you expectantly and you introduced yourself to the spirit, deeming it safe to give it your name.

It wasn’t enough however to satisfy their curiosity. They hummed and danced in the invocation circle, unable to hold still, yet their attention remained completely focused on you. You could see why one could get lost in watching something like them for hours. They were mesmerizing; addictive. You felt as if their eyes could see through your very soul. You felt pulled towards them, unconsciously leaning over the circle, almost crossing it. Until something pulled you back. Like a string attached to your very core, a clarity washed over your mind, and you regained some control over yourself. Your eyes left the Spirit’s form, searching for something that was calling to you. Then you met Shinsou’s eyes. He was a reassuring presence by your side, reminding you of where you were; grounding you, anchoring you to reality. Just like his hand ontop of yours did.

“Hmm, and I see you are linked together rather tightly..” The spirit chuckled, the sound akin to a bell chiming. “How cute Hitoshi. I would really like to hear the story behind that”

Shinsou redirected their attention to him before you spent the whole time you were allowed answering the spirit’s questions and not the contrary. “That is not something we wish to discuss” The mage set a clear boundary, and the spirit didn’t seem offended by it.

“A shame… I hope you will tell me about it some other time then, Hitoshi” They commented, their eyes now fully focused on Shinsou. You felt an inexplicable wave of something dark like envy fill you when Shinsou’s first name rolled off the spirit’s tongue again. You tried your best to push away that feeling, and your fingers unconsciously clenched under Shinsou’s longer ones.

“You will answer my questions now” Shinsou all but ordered. His voice was firm and clear as he spoke, that weird echo you sometimes thought you caught resonating in your ears, making you feel the need to listen to him too. For a man so recluse; for someone some may call a hermit, he could really prove to be extremely charismatic.

“Let me guess. You want to know how to handle the ‘thing’ we talked about last time?” Again, the spirit only smiled at his brute request, amused and unbothered. “Your answer lies just before your eyes”

The Spirit glanced at you then, so briefly that you wondered if you had imagined it, before they focused back on Shinsou.

“Please, refrain from speaking in riddles” Shinsou’s deep voice was almost pleading, the annoyance clear in his tone.

The spirit smirked, an enticing but frightening sight. “By blood the curse was created and by that same blood only can it be undone” They offered.

You were completely lost in this mysterious conversation, but by your side, Shinsou clearly wasn’t. His eyes widened and he leant forward, his fingers tightly gripping yours “How?”

Licking their lips, the spirit chuckled, their gaze falling on the hourglass beside them. “I’m afraid your time is almost up little Hitoshi….”

In a wink, the candles blew out, and the spirit faded away.

You had to blink a few times to chase the imprint of their golden presence behind your eyelids. Kneeling beside the summoning circle, you felt extremely fatigued, your eyes prickling like after reading for too long. A headache was pounding in your temples. But despite those side effects, you couldn’t help but smile. That encounter had been a truly incredible experience. Weren’t you so tired, you would feel hungry for more.

“I understand why your master enjoyed that spirit’s company so much. They were quite a sight to behold” You marvelled while Shinsou released your hand and got to work cleaning up the remains of the ritual.

The court mage ran a tired hand through his hair. “My master wasn’t as wise as he should have been in that area. When dealing with spirits, one shouldn’t let their body or their soul rule over their mind.”

You wondered what his master did with that spirit. Given the spirit’s appealing appearance, your treacherous mind conjured the most excentric and indecent possibilities. With warm cheeks, you quickly shook your head as if to chase those thoughts.

“So I take it you don’t make it a habit to contact spirits as much as he did?” You inquired, hoping that your teacher didn’t inherit his master’s shortcomings.

“I don’t” Shinsou answered truthfully. “I am not very fond of human contact either, but I still prefer it to that of spirits. Keeping a connection with humans, mages or non mages, helps one stay grounded. It is too easy to lose oneself in the fantasies of the Otherworld”

He eyed you with an intensity that made you feel self-conscious. He was barely older than you, and yet, he sounded so wise already. You felt childish compared to him. Even if you weren’t sure he really followed his own advice, given how little he interacted with the other inhabitants of the castle.

You got up and dusted your skirt, pondering a few stray thoughts while Shinsou finished cleaning the mess the ritual made.

“Your master; was he-” You started when he finally got up, hesitant under now undivided attention. “Did he really curse the Queen?” You quietly asked.

Shinsou inhaled sharply. “I-” He stopped and shook his head, looking down to his feet, shoulders slouched, so far from the confident pose he displayed in front of the spirit. “Honestly I don’t know. I wasn’t there when it happened, and I had no opportunity to speak with him before the King-”

He cleared his throat and dragged a shaky breath as he straightened up, trying to regain his composure. “Before he was executed for his crimes”

“But I do know he sometimes experimented with darker types of magic”

He was looking away from you, in the opposite direction, where stood that door with runes that you never thought about again since he took you as an apprentice. You assumed it was an experiment room, but you never saw him enter or exit it. Another thing you had to remember to ask about later.

“The type of magic that could be found in the book you refused to buy from that lady in the market?”

Upon hearing those words Shinsou’s attention immediately fell back onto you. There was that mysterious glint into his gaze again; the one that left you both intimidated and enticed.

“Indeed” He didn’t try to deny it as he walked up to stand in front of you. “What a perceptive apprentice I have” He commented with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

You wondered why you never asked him why he didn’t confiscate the item. It crossed your mind multiple times, you were sure but you kept forgetting to voice it out. It was unlike you. But somehow the timing to ask was always bad.

You startled when Shinsou’s cold fingers gently pushed a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “Are you wondering why I didn’t confiscate it?” You gulped, throat suddenly very dry. Shinsou who usually avoided your questions was now asking them for you. It didn’t feel right. Your heart pounded in your chest in a very different way than it did when Shinsou made the same gesture with your hair earlier. You felt frozen on the spot, you couldn’t look away from him. A strange sense of déjà-vu was making you dizzy. You were sure you never asked about that before. Well, almost sure. “With how clever you are it never occurred to you that I probably reported her to the guards?”

In his tone there was something like annoyance. Was he upset that you didn’t trust him? That you implied that he delved into ark magic without frankly asking? Or did he wish you kept your nose out of his researches?

You shook your head, slightly ashamed, but unable to look away from his deep violet eyes. You shouldn’t doubt him like you did. And yet for some reason, you had trouble believing him. Shinsou’s knuckles brushed against your cheek. There was an uncomfortable tingling running under your skin that you couldn’t explain. His gaze left yours to look lower; maybe to your lips, or to your heaving chest. That’s when you succeeded in gathering your scrambled thoughts. That's when you realized he didn’t clearly stated that he reported that lady. Somehow you felt like you knew she was still in activity.

His gaze found yours again and you couldn’t bring yourself to confront him about it.

About what again…?

Shinsou’s opened palm was now cradling your cheek, his thumb stroking your flushed skin. There was hesitation in his eyes, and something sad too, like regret, or restraint.

You had completely lost track of the conversation you were having. Something about the Queen?

Shinsou watched you with something like pity in his eyes as you tried to form a coherent sentence with your scattered thoughts. The interview with the spirit had left you impossibly exhausted, so much so that you struggled to just speak. There was something you wanted to say about runes, and something to do with blood. But you simply couldn’t remember what.

Shinsou’s touch and smile were sympathetic “Don’t overdo it’ He gently told you, his soothing touch now on your forehead. His hand was cold, but there was a burning under your skin. Instead of breathless, you just felt weird.

“It’s getting late” He said, voice impossibly low. His words echoed inside you like a trigger.

It was still the middle of the afternoon, yet you agreed with him.

“It’s getting late. I shouldn’t over do it” You finally found your words.

Your teacher nodded and stepped away from you with one last caress to your cheek. “Good girl” He praised, and it didn’t raise your hackles like it should. You were too focused on leaving to realize what was happening.

What just happened again?

[kiroenthusiast]

Final Elysium: Lucid

The 28th day of Spring, Year 2028 of the Pangaean Calendar.

A slash came from above.

With barely any time to react, Kai lifted his sword and used the flat of his blade to block the strike, sending a series of sparks as the two metals grinded against each other. Pushing back the attack, he put pressure into his lower body and jumped back, putting considerable distance between him and his opponent.

A thin sheen of sweat formed on his forehead and he felt the back of his shirt stick to his skin. It was high noon, and the humidity happened to be high that day. While fighting for four hours continuously would have been a piece of cake for him on normal occasions, he was finding it difficult to concentrate at the moment.

"What's wrong, Kai?" Horatio asked, a look of concern crossing his features. "You got a bit sloppy there. It's not like you."

"Sorry. It's nothing."

"Is that so?"

Faint apprehension still lingered in his voice but he didn't push the matter. Instead, Horatio sheathed his sword back into its scabbard and put his hands on his hips. His brown hair looked almost red under the sunlight. He said, "Let's call it a draw for today. It's almost lunch time, anyway. We should head to the mess hall."

"...Right."

While normally he spent training a little longer, today in particular, Kai felt himself distracted to an annoying degree, caught in the web of his own thoughts, which rarely happened, if at all. Especially on the battlefield. Even Horatio had taken notice of his unusual behavior. Clicking his tongue in annoyance, Kai sheathed his sword as well.

"So, mind telling me what's up?" Horatio asked as the two of them made their way to the mess hall. He was nothing if not perceptive.

"It's nothing, really. Just a dream that's been getting on my nerves," Kai replied in a bland voice. Contrary to his words, however, his face showed no expression.

Horatio was taken aback. His voice sounded bewildered with his next words. But honestly, Kai couldn't really blame him. He, too, found himself acting strange. "Really? All of this is about... a dream?"

"...Yeah." He sighed. "That's why I said it was nothing."

"If it was truly nothing, it wouldn't be getting on your nerves like this," his friend and comrade replied in a matter-of-fact tone. "So, what was it about this dream that got you so on edge?"

"I'm not sure exactly," Kai answered, his eyebrows furrowed slightly. "But in the dream, I seemed to know about things that I shouldn't have, and the people in it seemed all to real, with appearances and personalities of their own. I was completely aware that I was dreaming, yet at the same time it felt as if I was a part of that world. As if..." He hesitated.

"As if..?" Horatio urged.

"As if I was peering into someone's memories."

There was a stunned silence that followed his words as the two stopped in their tracks. Kai watched as Horatio processed the information, a look of confusion painted across his face. Then, a burst of laughter resounded throughout the cobblestone corridor. Kai had to refrain from sighing and just shook his head, expecting the reaction.

Honestly, it sounded like nonsense even to his own ears. Brushing the embarrassment aside, Kai just kept walking towards their dining quarters.

"Ha... sorry, sorry," Horatio apologized once his laughter died down, racing up to catch up to him, his blue eyes still sparkling with mirth. "But I'm sure you're taking this more seriously than you should."

"Mm, probably."

'Except...'

Kai didn't mention another detail about the dream that bothered him and instead, chose to keep his silence. Horatio was probably right. He was taking this way too seriously. Besides, it wasn't like him to have a dream get under his skin. He couldn't even remember the last time he got this bothered over something. And it wasn't even a nightmare.

Still, the dream did feel strange. It had a vividness and realism that almost matched the real world, and the people he interacted with even had distinct voices and personalities. And on top of that, it even seemed like he had a life of his own in that place. As if he belonged there.

He couldn't control what he did in the dream, but he was fully aware of what he was doing and also of the fact that it was, in fact, a dream, and THAT unsettled him to no end. It left a bad taste in his mouth.

But what bothered him the most was the fact that he had already seen the same dream three nights in a row.

The dreams always showed the same things and they would always end the same way; on the visage of a beautiful woman with dark hair and green eyes. Kai didn't know who she was, accept for the fact that she was a princess, but he couldn't deny that he had felt attracted to her in some way. And yet now, thinking back to the way she smiled at him within the dream, he felt nothing at all. As if even his feelings were nothing but an illusion formed by the dream.

"There you guys are!" A shout came from the other end of the corridor, rousing him out of his thoughts. He looked towards the source of the voice and noticed two people standing at the entrance to the mess hall, one of them widely waving their hand at them; a short, petite girl with pixie cut dark hair.

"Oh, looks like Brina and Hans are back," Horatio said from beside him. He waved at them in return and asked them once they got closer. "How was the escort, guys?"

"Boring, as usual," replied the short, dark-haired girl, the usual twang in her voice, a signature feature of her hometown. "I've seen poetry reading sessions more eventful than that."

"No kidding," Hans chimed in, a balled-headed tall man with a bulky frame. Another comrade of his that was sent to monitor the first prince under the pretense of escorting him; a side job given to them by the second prince.

The four of them walked into the dining hall, chatting about the recent escort mission and other things, such as the current situation in Svarta and the growing immigration of refugees within the country. Kai had half a mind to pay attention to the current state of affairs in view of the fact that it had nothing to do with him, but even he could tell the present situation was growing more and more dire as time went on.

"Those at the gates said that the recent ones were survivors from a tiny village called Stopen. Who knows who's going to be next," Hans mused as he placed his tray onto the table. Soldiers of all ranks filled the mess hall, wearing the standard navy blue uniforms, noisily chatting away about their families back home or the illustrious tales of their heroism, none of which Kai could relate to.

"Honestly, this whole thing is just stupid. To think goblins and orcs would have the guts to challenge us..." Horatio frowned. It was understandable he'd think that. In fact, many people did. And Horatio was one of the best warriors Kai knew.

While large in numbers, goblins and orcs weren't all that intelligent. They didn't have a human's or an elf's capacity for tactical thinking and reasoning, so they're attack patterns were easy to predict, and for this reason, there wasn't any fear of them ever pulling off a sneak attack. But still, they're brute strength and tough hides were still a force to be reckoned with.

Brina casually popped a grape inside her mouth and chewed, "They still have the largest populations on the continent, you know. So much so that their land's are probably bursting by now."

"The council thinks they've suddenly joined forces because they want to take over the lands so they can sustain themselves," Hans continued. "If that's the case, then it's only a matter of time before they get here. So far they've only attacked small villages and towns, chipping away at us little by little. They're probably building up their forces."

"Hmm... still, they're not as smart as us. Having big numbers doesn't guarantee that they're gonna win." Horatio turned towards him, eyes seeking validation. "What do you think, Kai?"

"I think that that way of thinking is what's going to get you killed one day, Horatio," Kai replied bluntly, not bothering to look up from his tray as he chowed down on his stew. "Never underestimate an enemy. You'll end up in your grave before you know it."

There was a long pause at the table and then Brina burst out laughing, unable to contain herself, and Hans soon followed after her. "Bwahahaha! That's our captain for you!"

"You know, Captain..." Horatio drew out with a disappointed pout on his face, mocking the use of Kai's rank. "That's not what I was asking about. And can you please not talk about my death so casually!"

"Ahem! Captain," A foreign voice spoke up, snapping everyone out of their playful mood. Kai looked up and saw Morgan Miller standing to the side, his posture stiff as he regarded his superior. "Prince Gabriel summons you. He says we've got a new commission."

"About time!" Horatio exclaimed as he stretched in his seat. "I've been dying of boredom since we haven't gotten to kick ass in a while."

"You're just a battle freak, Horatio," Hans deadpanned.

"Like you guys aren't," Horatio shot back.

Kai stood up, having finished his meal (he never left without doing so) and followed the soldier with buzz cut blonde hair and blue eyes. His black military uniform stood out amongst the wave of navy blue as they weaved their way through the crowd.

Yes, that's right. A BLACK uniform. One which Kai had on as well, the only difference being that he had a silky red sash wrapped around his waist tied into a knot on one side of his hips. An indication of his position as 'Captain'.

Horatio, Hans and Brina wore one as well, and so did the other Dark Knights in Svarta. It was the standard uniform for all members of his unit, an elite group tasked with removal of surrounding enemy bases and strongholds. The second prince, Gabriel Adelbert, was the founder and commander of their unit, the person who was Kai's direct superior as well as the most favored candidate to the crown of Svarta.

He was also the one who had presently summoned him.

Once they completed the long walk from the barracks and reached the prince's office, Morgan excused himself after announcing Kai's arrival to the prince and left the two young men alone in the room.

The office was littered with stacks of papers, weapons and tools of all kinds, but the exquisite furniture, rouge carpeting, and medals and ornaments that decorated the walls was everything you'd expect to see in a high ranking official's office. Kai regarded the cool, silent figure standing by the large window behind his desk, looking out at the scenery below. He was dressed in nothing but breeches and a red waistcoat that was buttoned over his long-sleeve white shirt.

Gabriel seemed tired, as if he had just had to deal with something difficult before summoning him.

"I heard... we have a new commission," Kai said, not bothering for formalities, as usual. He waited for an answer from Gabriel, but it never came. Instead, he got a question in reply.

"Tell me, Kai," the young prince started, never turning his face away from the window. "What do you think of the present day scenario? Do you think humanity will be able to survive the oncoming invasion from the Goblins and Orcs?"

Kai carefully regarded the question in silence. It wasn't like he hadn't taught about it before, but he hadn't really dived into the matter than just surface level estimates. After all, it didn't really matter to him either way. But when it came down to it, humans weren't exactly made for combat. And while magic existed, the number of people that could use it were scarce, and few and far between. Plus, with how lightly everyone seemed to regard the situation, he couldn't really hold out much hope.

"I'm afraid not," Kai replied. While he did want to give a more optimistic answer, pointless sugar-coating and hesitation wouldn't do anyone any good. "We've been taking out concentrated Goblin-Orc sites and constantly improving our technology. But that's as far as we can manage. At the most, you'll probably be able to hold out for a decade longer, not more than that."

Gabriel sighed. He finally turned his back to the window and slumped down on his desk, feigning exhaustion (Or maybe he really WAS exhausted... Kai couldn't tell). "I can always count on you to give me the brutally honest answers, Kai. I know it's not in your nature, but you could at least TRY to sugarcoat the truth."

"Forgive me, Your Highness, but isn't my honesty the reason why you asked ME the question in the first place?"

"Touché," he grumbled. He leaned back into his chair and folded his legs, his ash coloured hair scattering across his forehead with his movement. "Things do seem to be hopeless at the moment, don't they?"

Kai frowned slightly. The question was rhetorical, but the implication that the prince's words carried weren't lost on him. "Excuse me, but... 'at the moment'?"

Gabriel grinned, his hazel eyes twinkling, as if he was waiting for that very moment to reveal his next words.

"What if I told you... that there's a way for humanity to survive?"

[cinnamonest]

Kaeya Alberich - Yandere Profile

YES I love my eyepatch boy!! I really like him as a yandere, because he's definitely got several traits and behaviors that would make him a very unconventional/different yet absolutely terrifying one to have. Him or Diluc as your yandere is basically like playing a game on maximum difficulty. He's so arrogant dammit why does he have to make it hot

More importantly, someone take the ability to write n/sfw away from me I s2g... I go from trying to make serious content to nasty weird kinks and completely feral in .002 seconds the moment I add that readmore

tws: gaslighting, manipulation, yandere, mentions of mutilation

tws (below cut): noncon, a good deal of sadism, mentions of an*l

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

What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?

He's actually one of the worst yanderes you could have in almost every regard, for two very simple reasons: his crippling psychological issues, and his intense selfishness. The first manifests as severe abandonment issues. It's the origin of his unhealthy feelings, most likely. Kaeya doesn't like the instability of people - based on his backstory, people always leave, or die, and even if they don't intend to, somehow it feels like abandonment, and he resents it. People leave him all alone and afraid and uncertain. That's generally all he knows, and despite the smug exterior, he's actually pushed people away quite a bit, keeps everyone at arm's length to ensure they can't become someone too important for him to accept their sudden absence. He can't care about someone, because that someone is fated to inevitably leave him, no matter who it may be.

That's why, once you manage to worm your way into his feelings and heart despite his best efforts, once he finally caves to acknowledging the feeling, he's aware. Painfully aware, because be can't stop worrying every waking moment about you, your well-being, your location. It reaches a point where he can't go about his job because he's simply too consumed with his worry.

The solution that kept him safest in the past was to avoid developing emotional attachments, but when he does, he's terrified of both your safety AND you intentionally abandoning him. Really, the latter would hurt worse, since he can't fault you for dying, but to abandon him? It would break him.

And, to some extent, he's developed a lot of  prideful anger about it, deep, deep down. He feels that he doesn't deserve to be abandoned, doesn't deserve to just be left behind under the guise of some greater purpose, and he'll be damned if he just lets you toss him aside like he feels others did. Even if you reject him, he won't accept it. You don't get to reject him. He won't allow that. What has he ever done to deserve everything that's happened to him? Nothing. You're the one person who has stayed with him, and you're going to continue to be with him. Forever.

That being said, he's still somewhat confident because he's got that arrogance about him. He doesn't perceive rejection, because he's always gotten a lot of attention for his looks, even if he's never actually followed through on anyone else's attention out of those same fears. He'll write off any perceived rejection as being for some other reason, something besides an actual rejection, and he'll seek to eliminate whatever he feels is keeping you from just accepting him.

Honestly, one of the most likely to have a full blown, classic-yandere-style psychotic breakdown. He can be driven to a snapping point, if there's enough stress or obstacles, and in case of that, he'll be a lot more willing to kill, and a lot more willing to hurt you, but it's a point that would still take a lot to reach.

But what's really terrifying about Kaeya is his delusions, primarily his ability to mentally justify everything he does without hesitation. Even most delusional yanderes struggle - they feel like it's wrong, they know it is deep down, and they take time to convince themselves of their delusions, tell themselves it's ok over and over, beg for reassurance, and get defensive when called out because they know they're in the wrong. The same isn't true for Kaeya. He automatically justifies his actions by default, and has absolutely zero doubt or hesitation to do so. He doesn't even need a complex reason for justification - it's a simple one. He deserves what he wants. Anything necessary to achieve that is fair.

How likely are they to kidnap their darling? How quickly will they do so?

Highly likely and very quickly, right up there with Diluc and Razor. And he's absolutely remorseless about it. It ties back into his delusional state and ability to justify anything he does - this is what's best for you. If you don't get that, that's your problem, not his.

He's another one to not want to pull some barbaric move like knocking you out, rather, he'd rather just trick you into walking right into your new home. He gets that you'll be upset about it, but to him, that's just part of the process. Not that he'll tolerate it for too long. 12, maybe 24 hours is enough time for you to reasonably be upset, but if you're still trying to fight him on this after that, he's going to get snappy about it, thinking you should already be over that by now.

How difficult is it to escape from them? How do they keep you restrained? How do they deal with attempted escape? 

You're not leaving.

It's not worth trying, really. How he manages to do it is a mystery to you, but he'll manage to keep you locked in right there at the headquarters with him. How Jean and Lisa haven't found out about you being there, how he convinced all of his guards to be on his side of things, you have no idea. Realistically, if you get out, he's likely to make you out to be some kind of criminal that needs to be found -- just not to hurt you in any way, so goes the order, and the knights know better than to question why.

He has eyes and ears everywhere, it won't take them anytime at all to find you. He's so confident in that, and combined with his pride, he doesn't feel the need to go get you himself. No, it's a lot more satisfying to sit back and watch as they drag you through the doors of the headquarters, slowly pull you to the end of the room and drop you down at his feet, where he can look down on you with that closed-eyed, artificially wide smile that tells you that you have seriously fucked up.

Escape attempts aren't going to be met with a single shred of mercy, really. The thing about Kaeya is he's ultimately a selfish, selfish bastard with a lot of deep-seeded, highly repressed emotional issues, and he has absolutely no problem with keeping you bound hand and foot, or maybe even make some permanent modifications to your body if that's what it takes to keep you. It's not a wise idea to even try unless you're absolutely certain to succeed, otherwise you may find yourself never getting the opportunity again. You don't really need those Achilles tendons intact, you know. And your ankle bones are just so fragile, they'll snap with just a little twist. Actually, that wouldn't be too bad, giving you more reasons to be grateful when he's doing everything for you.

He's not one to just let it go, either. No, escape attempts are the one unforgivable thing for him, the one thing that will make him totally and completely snap. You don't get to do that. You're the one thing that doesn't get to just disappear out of his life in a flash. Half the reason he sends the knights to get you rather than going himself is to give him some time to let the rage settle down, otherwise he knows he might not be able to control himself and might end up hurting you even worse than he intends to. He's not going to buy any excuses and won't go any lighter on you if you beg and grovel or anything. But you will apologize -- you get to choose how hard it is. You can apologize the easy way, or, if you don't want to, there are many ways to force it out. But by the end, he'll get an apology, and a promise to never try again, out of you, no matter what that takes. It's by far the worst state you'll ever see him in, and really, once is enough to dissuade you from trying again.

How easy are they to trick, deceive, or manipulate?

You'd have to try pretty hard. He doesn't have the sheer amount of years of life experience like Venti or Zhongli, but he's not the captain for no reason - he's perceptive, and highly intelligent.

Rather than simply mastering reading human voice and facial expressions for telltale signs of deceit, he's good at learning individuals in particular - memorizing the patterns of thought and action of a particular individual, and predicting how they will act. He can do it with everyone else with ease, how much more, then, with the object of an obsession? If you're trying to formulate some plan to trick him, he'll already predict what you'll do, if you lie, he already knows. It's creepier than the others, really, because it's not just that he can tell when you're lying, but rather he already knows you're going to lie or try some scheme before you do it. It feels so tailored and personalized to your thought patterns, it almost feels like an invasion of the privacy of your mind, which, really, is the one privacy you thought you had left.

He's great at gaslighting himself, too. He's a very good liar, and can make you believe anything he wants. He'll target your fears and paranoias, make you believe you're going crazy, and he'll do it all so perfectly you'll never suspect a thing. You'll end up coming to him for protection and guidance, exactly as planned.

How lenient are they? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

Pretty strict. He doesn't let you have any outside contact, and you're limited on what you can do when he's gone. He'll bring you some books, maybe something to draw on -- no sharp writing utensils, though. In his mind, that should be enough to occupy you.

You won't get outside walks or visits. It's just too risky for him, and he really doesn't like seeing other people look at you. If you really, really beg, and you've been on amazing behavior, and you're well into your relationship, maybe a few months or so, there's a chance he'll take you out at nighttime, or sunrise, but at the slightest sign of intentions he doesn't like, you'll be dragged back, and you won't see the sun for a long time.

You'll have a very limited wardrobe, he doesn't see why you even need to wear anything, but if you're going to be stubborn, he can get you something simple, like an old shirt and some underwear, but that's about all you can have. Any requests for actual clothing are going to be denied. It's ridiculous for him to spend money on something you don't need, and besides, he prefers it this way, y'know?

What kind of rules do they have? What kind of punishment would they use?

Generally, it's a simple one: obey. You do what he tells you to do, and you don't do something if he tells you not to. This stems to similar rules that develop: be submissive, don't be argumentative, don't be defiant. Follow those, and you can both be happy, and that's what you want, isn't it? It had better be - he's not very lenient, and will harshly punish even small offenses. As for that punishment... most of it isn't going to be sfw. That's just how he is.

What he will do is emotionally manipulate you, and he's rather good at it. You wanted to escape? Ok. He'll let you have your way, let you be alone. All alone. All by yourself, in a little room, with no one at all, which is exactly how you would have left him, had you succeeded. He knows very well how that kind of loneliness bites. He's not totally cruel, though, and he won't withhold affection from you by the time he returns -- he doesn't need to, you'll already be crying and apologizing, which is exactly what he hoped for. Not that he won't briefly mock you for it.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're crying like that because you actually missed me. Oh, you did? Being all alone isn't particularly fun, now is it? I'm sure you understand that now."

How do they deal with rivals, or perceived rivals? Will they get rid of them? Will they kill them themselves, or find another way?

Kaeya's an insanely jealous person. It doesn't show on his face, but it eats at him internally. It doesn't matter if it's a love interest, a platonic friend, even a family member. It's all the same -- people who want to take your attention away from him, people who you smile at that aren't him, people you love that aren't him. He's not one to delude himself into thinking everyone secretly loves you romantically, rather, it doesn't matter. Romantic interests are the worst threat, sure, but friends and family aren't much better.

He sees himself as above killing, though. He has people to do that for him, and he likes knowing that he has that much power. He's not going to dirty his hands with it, and frankly, they're not even worthy of his time and effort to kill them. Knights and other connections can take care of it just as well.

How easy is it to make them mad? What does their anger look like?

As somewhat previously discussed, the primary form of making him mad is attempting an escape. That's on a whole new level of anger because it strikes at a very deep, wounding insecurity. On a normal day, though, he's more easily exasperated than angry. He gets frustrated somewhat easily, especially if you're trying exceptionally hard to be a brat. He has very clear warning signs. His signature little smirk drops, he gets quiet, he balls his hands into fists and digs his fingernails into his palms. At that stage, he's irritable and might snap at you, but won't get too angry until you ignore those signs and push it.

If you do push him, though, he gets genuinely mad, which is a very quiet anger at first -- he doesn't talk much when he's mad. He acts. You'll know he's snapped when he puts down whatever he's doing, and just silently stomps over to you, face completely empty and flat, looking down at you with a cold expression. It's enough to put fear in you, but at that point, even if you apologize, you're not getting out of whatever he's planned.

So they see you as above them, beneath them, or equal to them?

Strongly in the "below" camp, a rather unusual stance for a yandere. Like many things with him, there's an inexplicable duality going on there.  You would think that if you loved someone so strongly you'd kidnap them, kill for them, and potentially suffer consequences just to have them, that you would really think highly of them. On the flip side, you would think that if you really saw someone as lowly, you wouldn't care for them, you'd see them as disposable.

But neither is true for Kaeya, no, he balances both obsessive love and complete narcissism regarding you. You're not disposable, no, he can't live without you, he needs you. But at the same time, you're not gonna be on any kind of pedestal. No, if anything, he sees himself on one, more like a throne, and you on the floor before him, how things should be.

He has a similar mindset to Zhongli or Albedo - you're fragile, you're dumb, you're incapable, and you need someone to care for you, protect you, guide you, someone who knows what's best for you, since you clearly don't. However, he's lacking in the attitude those other two have -- there's no seeing you as an angel here. There's no viewing himself as being absolutely honored to take care of you, or viewing protecting and caring for you as some kind of privilege that they're blessed to do, the way those two do.

No, as much as he loves those things, he'll never admit it, not even to himself really. Rather, his mentality is that you should be grateful. Here he is, a very highly respected, accomplished, capable person, and you...? You have what to offer, exactly? That's right, nothing, really, only cuteness and obedience, the latter of which you refuse to give him even though you really ought to. He's taking on the burden of making sure you don't get yourself killed, and how do you repay him? By getting mad about it, throwing a fit like some little kid? He puts up with your tantrums, which are really undeserved, by the way. He puts up with your disobedience and repeated rule violations, your sheer determination to defy him when he's going out of his way to do what's best for you.

One day, he thinks, you'll mature a little bit and understand why he does what he does, and when you do, you'll come groveling and sniffling about how sorry you are, how you'll never defy him again, how you'll be good and obedient from now on, and he'll love every second of it. He looks forward to that day quite a bit.

"Sigh... you know, you're pretty lucky I love you so much. You could stand to show me a little thanks, don't you think?"

How determined are they for you to love them? How hard will they try to make it happen? Or are they content just having you?

He's strongly determined, and yet... doesn't do much to try. It goes back to his mindset that really, you're the one who should be grateful for him, and eventually, you will love him. He's not gonna grovel to you or try different ways of making you love him, no, he's far too proud for that. But he's a smart man. He knows the effects that complete and total isolation other than one other person can have on someone. He's just going to sit back and wait for that effect to kick in, and slowly watch your fragile little mind deteriorate until you're desperate for affection. At which point, well, he can use it against you.

"You were so mean to me before, weren't you? You fought me every step of the way, and now you're just going to turn around and act like that didn't happen...? Well, if you're really sorry, I'll forgive you. But how am I supposed to believe you really are...? Maybe you can think of a way to prove it, hm?"

Bonus: Is there anything that makes them unique, in comparison to other yanderes?

Probably the severity of his degradation. As aforementioned, most yanderes, even the more confident or cocky individuals, either worship the ground their beloved walks on and sees themselves as beneath them, OR sees their darling as some sort of fragile, angelic being, and they are simply a protector or caretaker to that being.

It's a bit different with him, ever the narcissist. It's a strange duality born out of a rare mix of neediness, obsession, and pride. You're more like a toy, or a pet - an invaluable pet that he could never part with, but a pet nonetheless. He certainly looks down on you more than the average yandere - he mentally associates you as naive, fragile, even dumb like a lot of the aforementioned protector/caretaker types, but without the reverence to make up for it.

It's a bizarre duality that not even he fully understands - don't think for a moment that that means he'll ever tire of you, or view you as disposable. No, he's actually one of the most obsessive ones, yet very demanding of attention and praise, rather than giving it.

He frequently tests you - things like leaving the door unlocked, waiting outside just to see if you'll try it. Seeing you open that door, watching your face go from ecstatic excitement and drop to wide-eyed terror, it's priceless.

"My, my, you didn't waste any time at all, did you? Why do you look so surprised...? You should know I wouldn't slip up that badly."

Pet names, but in the most infuriatingly condescending way, and uses them more often when he's mad and trying to warn you that you're pushing his limits. Particularly fond of "sweetheart," especially with a low warning tone and clenched teeth.

General perverseness: how sexual of a person are they? What’s their drive like? How touchy do they get? Do they have any reservations about sexuality?

Horny fucker, all the way. The man has a lot of stress and frustration in his life already, that much more if you're... less than compliant with your new lifestyle. Sex, especially rough and hard, is a fantastic stress reliever.

Very little reservation. He's not crude about it, but he tends to make subtle innuendos very frequently, and laughs at your embarrassed reactions. Definitely the type to pull the whole shtick in which he says something with a blatant sexual undertone, then elaborates in a way to make it sound like having meant something else, follows with that smirk and says, "Why? What did you think I meant?" It's something he really enjoys doing, and loves to get embarrassed reactions out of people, particularly yourself.

"Touchy" doesn't begin to describe it. Pretty much from the moment you meet him, he's got his hands somewhere on your person. He grabs your shoulders when he stands behind you, he wraps an arm around you from the side when he walks up to you, he's always pressing his hands on your back and sides whenever you're navigating the streets, walking through doorways, wraps an arm around your waist when sitting next to you. It's highly uncomfortable, but really, he's just got something very subtly, but very strongly intimidating about him. You almost don't want to confront him on it. If you do, he'll laugh it off, and stop -- for maybe 48 hours or so, and then he'll be right back at it.

To the surprise of, well, everyone who's ever met him, he doesn't actually live up to the rumors of having been around the block, so to speak. His experience is actually little to none - that kinda happens when you push everyone around you away. Not that he'd ever let you know that, of course, and will probably lie if asked, but you can gleam a little bit of truth from slightly awkward movements and a bit of noticeable shakiness.

How forceful are they? Do they care about your willingness?

Kind of like Razor, the issue is that he loves you, and what better way is there of expressing love? He's not much for gift-giving or words of affirmation - no, he's a lot better with words of degradation, it comes more naturally to him. And he's certainly not one to enjoy acts of service -- well, not doing them, he'll gladly take them as a sign of your love, though. No, he expresses love through touch. It's like how, when you hug someone you really love, someone you missed, you squeeze them extra tight - the love manifests as a physical urge for some strong expression. Humans are physical about their emotions -- we punch walls when we're mad, we jump up and down when we're happy, and when you love someone, sometimes you just really, really want to pound them into a mattress as hard as physically possible. That's normal. That, and really, he's got his vices. He's actually fairly weak when it comes to resisting temptations, and prone to give in to urges for physical sensations like drunkenness and sex.

Is another one to be convinced that, with time, you'll come around. And is absolutely the top candidate to be one for using your own body against you - if you get wet, if you whimper, if you cum, that's just proof that you really do want this, that you're just being difficult because you enjoy being a brat, and he'll be sure to tell you that.

What sort of kinks or fetishes do they have, or would they fill?

This is nearly indistinguishable from punishment, sadistic bastard

D/S dynamics

Arrogant fucker wants to be served and worshipped, you could see it coming from a mile away. Anything that puts you beneath him is going to make him happy - anything where you're where you're supposed to be. There's a lot of options, but it doesn't really matter, as long as he feels like he's in control and ownership of you in some way, and as long as you act accordingly.

He wants it to be something that’s not just for sex, but rather, he’ll end up carrying it over into normal life, whether you like it or not. If you just went along with it in hopes of getting it over with once he cums, you’re going to be in for a treat when it starts to carry over. He gets a little too used to being worshipped, and decides he likes that submissive attitude on you enough to want to see it all the time.

Petplay/Collaring

It really helps that he sees you as something of a pet already, but really, the collar is the selling point. Even if you never go outside, there's something unbearably hot about the possessiveness of it all - really, it's there to remind you of your status as property. He wants to own you, and for you to be forced to acknowledge that he owns you, and there's really no better way to do that than something with his name on it. It's even better with a leash, one he can pull on when he's fucking you to pull you back onto him over, and over, and over, hearing it choke you the more he shortens it.

But really, having you crawl towards him on all fours and obey little commands so simple they're humiliating is pretty nice, too.

Impact pain/painplay

There's really nothing quite so powerful feeling as watching you cry and squirm from it, y'know? He's another one that just likes the marks his hands, belts, or anything else can leave all over the skin of your ass and the back of your legs. The thing with him, though, is it's not even always a punishment, he just does it for fun, and that makes it unpredictable. Will definitely make you count, it's a sadistic torture for your mind and body.

Throatfucking

May be used as a punishment measure, may just be because he's craving it, either way, even if you have a gag reflex, you won't for very long. He'll train it out of you gradually, grabbing the back of your head and just slamming all the way down into your throat, holding you there, making you choke - it's a beautiful sound, really, listening to you gag, all while your throat spasms around him, it's the best feeling, really, and will definitely be used as a threat if you need incentives to behave.

Choking

Ties into the dynamics, but really, there’s not much to say on this one. He likes the power trip from having his hands wrapped around your throat, seeing you struggle, watching your face go red, hearing those little choking noises. It puts power over you into his hands, and if you get pleasure from it against your own will, that’s even better.

How do they feel about pregnancy or babies? Do they want them?

Absolutely one of the ones to use it as a tool. If you have a baby, you'll be so much more bound to him. You'll need him more, you'll want him around more, you'll be much less likely to leave, and in a way it feels a little bit like a sign of ownership over you.

That being said, he's also acutely aware of his jealous tendencies, and realizes he would also be very likely to become jealous if he felt like you loved a baby more than him, or gave it more attention and affection than you do him. He doesn't like the thought.

So ultimately, the latter side prevents him from willingly trying, but if you really, really have defiance issues even after he's tried everything he can to break you help you adjust, he might consider it.

What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?

If it's mild enough, he can just take the route of extremely rough fucking - it gets rid of the frustration, he likes hearing you whimper and squeal, and he can leave lots of little bruises as reminders of what not to do in the future.

But, again, he already gets off to putting you in pain - it'll be that much worse when you've done something to deserve it. Harder hits, no mercy whatsoever, and he just loves all your little cries, wiping away your tears and smiling at you, right before bringing down whatever instrument of pain he's chosen again. If you really, really make him mad, and he really wants to make you cry, he's not above fucking your ass, either, watching you cry and beg, but you'll learn with time that begging doesn't ever get you out of anything.

What body parts of their darling do they like the most?

Definitely an ass man. Likes fucking you in doggy, seeing the ripple every time you bounce back off of him, pulling your hair or arms to add some force. He likes seeing all the little red marks that his hands and belts and anything else will leave on the skin, views it like marks of possession. Grabbing, beating, fucking, it's all good.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 303: And What, Pray Tell, Is a “One For All”

Previously on BnHA: The Todorokis (really just Enji) looked at their children and went “how can we screw up all four of them in uniquely different ways” and proceeded to do just that. Touya was all “just because practicing how to set myself on fire better hasn’t worked to win my dad’s affections YET doesn’t mean it will NEVER work”, because child logic. Turns out setting oneself on fire real hard isn’t so effective at winning affections, but is actually incredibly effective when it comes to burning oneself to death, so there’s that. Back in the present day, the Todorokis basked in their various misplaced (again, except for Enji) feelings of guilt, and were all “anyway but get over yourself already Enji, you still have to do something to stop this kid”, and Shouto was all “I’ll help too”, and Enji was all “(╥_╥)”, and Hawks and Jeanist were all “[surreptitiously listening in from outside the door]”, and that’s basically where we left off.

Today on BnHA: Hawks and Jeanist are all “mind if we join you on this family journey?” and proceed to stroll in uninvited with their puns and their perceptive insights. Hawks is all “so to sum everything up, we’re fucked, but at least you have us here to help you out! by the way, no clue why I’m the first person to ask this in three hundred chapters, but wtf is One For All.” We then cut to Deku, who’s still all “[(－－)]z”, and All Might, who is all “I’m just going to ignore the extremely loud racket going on right outside this room.” Which, btw, is happening on account of Bakugou, who is all “(╬◣Д◢)” as Satou, Tsuyu, and Mineta cart him away. Anyway so that’s a lot of antics, and also it looks like Hawks has gotten tired of the Todorokis refusing to put the pieces together on their own about OFA and so he is fast-tracking that shit. And meanwhile Deku is chatting it up with the Vestiges exactly like we all thought. And now we have to wait another whole week for updates on all of this. This really is not fair.

omfg lol

“our bad, we were kind of accidentally listening in on purpose.” like I said last week guys, no fuss. it’s a tradition

OMG

I am absolutely fucking floored. Hawks literally said that so casually that it’s impossible for me to rewrite it so as to be even more casual. that’s literally what I would write in the “today on bnha” section. in fact I probably will write that

(ETA: just for laughs I tried it and it really worked.)

a couple more things to point out about this panel: 

“TOP 3” omg yes. more like “top only” at this point, honestly. interested to see how that goes

Hawks’s phone is freaking the fuck out about something, calm down there

I know this is a standard Jeanist hair-fixing gesture that he does all the time, but I can’t help but form hypotheses about this being a stress reaction because Hawks’s hair is making him internally freak out. Hawks, if this man tries to get you alone with him and some hairspray and a comb, please for the love of god do not listen to him. get out of there and call the authorities

omg Shouto’s face

okay confession, I wasn’t really sold on the whole “Shouto has a schoolboy crush on Hawks” thing until exactly now, when I became 100% sold on it. that is adorable

and heck with it, gotta show Enji and Rei’s reactions here as well because lol

“omg my son who’s not my son, and he just overheard everything about me being a terrible shitty father and person overall, oh and plus my actual-son set him on fire and called him out on a national broadcast. I’m just gonna stare at him baffledly.” versus Rei, who is all “hmm, who are these people”

so Hawks is all “I got released from the hospital after one day for some reason so I made Jeanist drive me around places while we talked about life” but uh, heyyyyy, what’s Rei doing

okay, uh

SO FUCKING FORMAL OMFG. “SORRY MY KID TRIED TO BURN YOU TO DEATH, APPARENTLY HE DOES THAT” REI NO IT’S NOT YOUR FAULT

HAWKS IS ALL “I’M JUST GONNA LAUGH SINCE THAT’S MY DEFAULT RESPONSE TO BEING PROFOUNDLY UNCOMFORTABLE”

let me tell you a secret Hawks, it’s my default response too. ahahahahahahaha oh thank god Jeanist is helping her up -- AND MAKING A JEANS PUN, OF COURSE. IT’S BEEN ALMOST THIRTY SECONDS. MY MAN WAS DYING

“WTF IS ILLEGAL DENIM” he’s talking ‘bout them counterfeit jeans, Rei. Antoine Bugleboy knows

THANK YOU JEANIST!! OUT HERE ASKING THE RELEVANT QUESTIONS

damn straight. we’re not gonna sit around waiting another 300 chapters for this information on this man’s watch

now Hawks is telling Endeavor he used to watch videos of him all the time, and calling him his “childhood obsession” I can’t

OH MY SWEET STARS AND MOONS

1000% CANON. “SO CLOSE...” ARE YOU SERIOUS. YOU REALLY PUT THAT THOUGHT BUBBLE THERE AND EVERYTHING. “GOOD MORNING EVERYONE, SO JUST IN CASE YOU WEREN’T ALREADY AWARE, TODOROKI SHOUTO IS NOT ACTUALLY STRAIGHT.” HORIKOSHI KOUHEI I AM LITERALLY DUMBFOUNDED. THIS IS AMAZING

and meanwhile that look on Hawks’s face while he casually-but-not-really-casually-at-all asks this question. that phone app better be using his actual voice. I’m not sure I could take this scene in the anime at this point if it was like Alexa talking or something

that look in his eyes is basically saying that so far, based on the information he has absorbed up until this point, Hawks is prepared to view his former childhood obsession as a flawed but changed man. however I get the distinct feeling that depending on Endeavor’s answer now, he would be willing to drastically shift some of his opinions on him

(ETA: this is maybe my favorite panel in the entire chapter. the fact that his question isn’t addressed to anyone in particular, but his eyes are zeroing on on Endeavor. and the way his leaning-on-Shouto pose manages to be simultaneously nonchalant and yet ever-so-slightly protective. there’s so much going on in this one question and gesture and I’m mildly obsessed with it.)

however, Rei is all “that was me” and ONCE AGAIN WITH THE FACES IN THIS CHAPTER holy shit

Hawks definitely did not see that one coming sob. it’s so fun watching him frantically recalculate his ideas about this family every two seconds

DAMN IT HORIKOSHI I UNDERSTOOD THE PARALLELS ALREADY, YOU REALLY DIDN’T HAVE TO DO THIS

yes, Hawks, you get it. it’s not exactly the same, but it’s close enough. though unlike your shitty parents, Rei and Enji are at least trying

OKAY I SERIOUSLY CANNOT WITH ALL OF THIS

fljkdlaskfjlwkjl okay we’re doing the bullet-points breakdown here

first of all, the fact that poor little Shouto’s heart is still thumping away at this proximity and all he can think is “CLOSE” all intelligently as he stares at him with that face omg

and meanwhile Horikoshi has these STRATEGIC BANDAGES WRAPPED AROUND HIS CHEEKS TO HIDE ALL OF HIS SHOUJO BLUSHING omfg. SENPAI NOTICED YOU SWEETIE!!!

HAWKS YOU HAVE ABSOLUTELY ZERO OBLIGATION TO WASTE ANOTHER SECOND OF YOUR LIFE WORRYING ABOUT THESE TWO ASSHOLES WHO NEVER SPARED YOU THE SLIGHTEST BIT OF REGARD OR CONCERN IN THEIR ENTIRE LIVES. THE NICEST THING YOUR MOM EVER DID FOR YOU WAS BUY YOU A $2 ENDEAVOR PLUSH FROM THE DISCOUNT BIN TO KEEP YOU QUIET, AND YOU WERE SO AWED BY THAT ONE ACT OF SORTA KINDA APPROXIMATE KINDNESS THAT YOU SHAPED YOUR ENTIRE WORLDVIEW AROUND IT. PLEASE LET ME PICK YOU UP IN A BIG HUG FOR JUST A SEC, YOU DESERVE THE WORLD AND YOU WERE ONE THOUSAND PERCENT JUSTIFIED IN LEAVING THEM IN THE DUST THE SECOND THAT YOU COULD

but all that said, he immediately recognizes that Shouto would also have had cause to do the same in his situation, and yet hasn’t. and so he has that much more admiration for him all of a sudden, which is just super sweet, and fully appropriate. Shouto does deserve props. I’m choosing to take this as an “it takes a lot of strength to be able to forgive, and people who choose to do that even though they’re not obligated to are really amazing" type of thing, as opposed to “people who don’t forgive other people who severely wronged them are bad.” and if I’m wrong and Hawks’s line here is meant to be seen as actual failing on his part, well then fuck that, but we’ll move on

SO NOW, DOWN TO BUSINESS!

I am so, so curious as to what kind of strategy Hawks has for this (if he even has any), so I’ll just be quiet now and read

so Hawks is summing up basically what we already knew -- that Tomura and his inner circle (curious that there’s no mention of AFO, because if Hawks doesn’t know about him, that implies almost no one does) are still on the lam with a few PLF stragglers and some High Ends; that a bunch of prisons have been “liberated” (I assume this means all of the inmates escaped, so if that’s the case then where’s Kurogiri??); that the HPSC is fucked; and that heroes are resigning all over the place, and so civilians are taking matters into their own hands

OH DAMN!?

does this mean we’ll actually see some international heroes?? I will LOSE MY DAMN SHIT omg

(ETA: apparently people who paid more attention to the first BnHA movie than I did recognized the silhouettes as belonging to some background characters from Two Heroes. so maybe they were just cameos and they’re not actually new characters who are soon to join us lol. oh well.)

anyway so Hawks agrees with the other Todorokis that Endeavor has no choice but to fight

awww

DON’T WORRY ENJI THEY’VE GOT YOUR BACK. WITH YOUR FLAMES, AND JEANIST’S PUNS, AND HAWKS’S BOYISHLY GOOD LOOKS, THE THREE OF YOU CAN DO ANYTHING YOU SET YOUR MINDS TO

so Enji is very pertinently asking why they’re standing by him in spite of the... [gestures vaguely to everything]

oh my lordy lord

Shouto you had better do something to combat this soon, or this man will sneak past you on my favorite character ranking after all. his face. his cheeky lil finger gun. the fact that he sums it up so fucking simply. “if someone is trying to do the right thing, I want to support them.” exactly. exactly

(ETA: and one last thing I love but forgot to mention, which is the fact that Hawks calls it a team-up despite the fact that he is clearly in charge.)

meanwhile Jeanist is all “as for me, at this point I just straight up don’t give a fuck”

I can’t handle how fucking cool this chapter is you guys

so Hawks is all “you good?” at Enji. and Enji...

if anyone needs me, I will be building myself a discourse-proof fort made entirely out of problematic characters. I don’t even care. I will go on living my life very happily in here

lol at Natsu being all “BUT DON’T THINK THIS MAKES US FRIENDS”

I’m living for this weird and no-doubt entirely unintended implication that Natsu and them all are gonna join in the fight with the rest of them. I mean, they do presumably all have very powerful ice quirks. and Natsu has medical training on top of that, and Fuyu is skilled at getting eight-year-olds to behave which could be a useful talent for dealing with Tomura hahaha I kid, but I’M JUST SAYING. who needs hero licenses anyway

OH SHIT FINALLY SOME DISCUSSION OF AN ACTUAL STRATEGY. even if it’s just a PR strategy

WHAKLHL

and now for some reason we’re flashing back to Natsu and Fuyu’s attempts to navigate through the media crowd outside the hospital

well I guess this is why I’m not the mangaka. if I were writing this I would have done something trite and predictable like using that “One for All” line as an excuse to cut to Deku!! as opposed to this entirely unrelated scene!!

seriously though why do we need to see this lol

no one in this crowd has ever heard of Alexander Dumas huh. or even the popular 2007 Disney Channel original movie, High School Musical 2

so now there’s an entire page of Hawks saying they need to know what One for All is, and Endeavor having one of those patented Todoroki WHOOSH realizations lmao look at this

just wait until this man figures out that one of the scrappy new interns he took on three months ago was actually the main character all along

SKDFIOHWIERLKSJGLWLK!!

NOW IS PROBABLY A GOOD TIME TO ASK MYSELF WHY I CHOSE THIS CHARACTER WHO KEEPS DISAPPEARING FOR SIX OR TWELVE OR FORTY CHAPTERS AT A TIME TO BE MY FUCKING FAVORITE. WELCOME BACK SON PLEASE DON’T SCREAM YOURSELF TO DEATH YOU STILL HAVE A HOLE IN YOUR TORSO

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

(ETA: can we just take a moment to appreciate how Bakugou even got so close to Deku’s room in the first place though. in this giant hospital with no idea of where to even go. does he have Deku Radar or something.)

YOU SIX ARE OFFICIALLY ON MY HIT LIST!! SPARE ME YOUR GOOD INTENTIONS!! MY BAKUDEKU REUNION KEEPS GETTING POSTPONED WEEK AFTER WEEK!! YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE HEROES WHERE IS YOUR CONCEPT OF MERCY

(ETA: btw just to be clear, I’m not actually angry lol; it makes total sense that they don’t want this rampaging feral toddler who was still in his own coma all of fifteen minutes ago to come and start screaming at the other coma child until he tears all his stitches out. if there’s anything we Bakugou fans should be familiar with by now, it’s being patient.)

also, Tsuyu wrapping her tongue around Bakugou’s still-healing torso wound absolutely can’t be hygienic at all. also wait is that Inko??

(ETA: pretty sure it is her. she got all of one line smdh.)

Iida is all “thank god Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight pulled through, I thought for sure he was a goner back there”

for the record this is actually really sweet to see how relieved he is. he’s one of the few people who saw the original injury close up, back when he was still at the battlefield and unconscious, so I imagine it really did freak him out quite a bit

JIROUUUUUU

“sometimes I just like to stand here and tug on my imaginary suspenders, what of it”

how come you guys get to loiter around Deku’s room but Kacchan doesn’t. god fucking dammit. AND WHAT DOES THIS EVEN MEAN

I BET KACCHAN COULD WAKE HIM UP FROM HIS COMA WITH THE POWER OF RIVAL INTENSITY!! BUT NOOOOOOOO, [is dragged away back to my fort]

OH MY GOD!?!

"this seems to be an entirely normal and above-board situation that we have just stumbled onto”

I see Jeanist comes from the Iida Tenya school of respectfully using people’s full names

Jeanist becoming one of the main characters is the best thing to ever happen to this series

EXCUSE YOU, IIDA

BUT I’M SURE HE’D MAKE AN EXCEPTION FOR KACCHAN THOUGH!! [elbowing my way back out of the fort] HAWKS, PLEASE --

DON’T GO ALL OMINIOUSLY PUTTING THE PIECES TOGETHER ALL ON YOUR OWN GODDAMMIT

“there’s absolutely no way this angry wriggling shoulder burrito kid here could answer literally all of my questions, so I’ll just ignore him”

OH MY GOD WE’RE FINALLY CUTTING BACK TO HIM BUT THE CHAPTER IS ENDING

[jumps up, throws a folding chair at Iida and the rest of the gang, and then runs]

oh my god. actually this chapter was awesome. but I’m so fucking mad at this cliffhanger though lol

at least we got a couple of answers! and some hints and teases! poor Deku looks so worn out even though he’s asleep dlwkjl my little green baby. and is it just me or is his quirk activated?? All Might’s all “I can feel it” as if it isn’t obvious just looking at him, why are you trying to be all mysterious dude

anyway! so at least we finally have confirmation and a date for those vestige antics at long last. looking forward to meeting Mister The Fourth next week so we can finally ask him “hey dude, what the fuck”

[sunsetcurvecuddles]

If you're still doing the prompts you should do the gang (alex, julie, luke, reggie) and (platonic) cuddles!!! (I'm so soft for them and have read every jatp fic tagged platonic cuddles KFKZKDKD)

you know what ask and you shall receive. i wanted to write core4/juke cuddles today so here’s a mindless piece with cuddles and nothing else.

sit tight like bookends // 1.5k words // ao3 link in reblogs!

--

Luke’s kind of having a terrible day.

It’s not terrible for any reason. He’s just grouchy. For starters, he misses being alive. It’s nice to be able to touch Julie now, and to occasionally be visible to people with her help, but it’s not the same. On a day like this in the past, he might have gone for a hard run, just to sweat and feel his heart race. Or maybe taken a nap. Or eaten a bunch. He knows ghosts don’t get hungry, but he misses being able to eat just for the sake of it sometimes, for the comfort of warm food on a cold day.

Not that he can feel the cold anymore either. But whatever. You get the point.

So he's having this terrible, grouchy day, and he ends up spread-eagled on Julie's bed, even though he knows he's not meant to be in her room. It just sucks how long she's gone at school every day, and he knows he's not supposed to visit her at school even more than he's not supposed to be in her room. He's not even prying through her stuff this time! He's just innocently feeling sorry for himself.

Even with his eyes closed, he can feel and hear the presence of someone else poofing into the room. Then he hears Alex's voice, "Dude, you know you're not supposed to be in here when Julie's not home."

Luke cracks open one eye. Alex is standing with his hands in his pockets, but his shoulders aren't all up against his ears like they get when he's anxious. More than anything, he looks that particular, Alex-brand mixture of irritated and concerned, eyebrows raised, lips pressed together, eyebrows furrowed. "C'mon, man. What gives?"

Luke sighs, long and dramatic, and snaps, "I don't know, okay?!" mostly just because in the moment, it feels good to be a little terse. Then the moment ends, and he feels bad, his stomach turning all tight and guilty. "Sorry, Lex," he groans, dragging his hands over his own face and then keeping them there, so he doesn't have to see Alex's expression melt into that other Alex-brand look, the one where he's halfway between knowing and affectionate. Somehow, that face is worse than the irritated-concerned one. "I'm just... I dunno. I don't wanna be a ghost any more. And I miss food. And Julie's still not home. Today sucks."

"That's fair enough," says Alex, like he always has when Luke is whinging for no reason, because Alex only ever tells him to shut up or be reasonable or quit whining when he's really being ridiculous, and Luke appreciates that, that Alex knows when to let him ramble but knows when enough is enough. Luke feels the mattress move as Alex sits on the end of the bed. "Like, you shouldn't be such an asshole about it—" Luke can't help but smile at that, knows Alex is grinning too without even looking "—but it's still fair." A moment of silence. In his mind's eye, Luke can see Alex staring into the carpet like it holds some answers for him, thinking hard enough it basically counts as a workout. "Is there anything I can do to help?" Alex asks eventually, soft. He means it.

Luke shrugs. It's nice in this dark little cave he's created with his hands. "I don't know, man."

"Okay," says Alex. The mattress shifts more under Luke. Then, Luke feels his right side glow with warmth as Alex lies down beside him. Sometimes he wonders if since they became ghosts, he can actually feel his boys' auras, or something, because he's sure this sense of care and steadiness didn't radiate off Alex quite like this when they were alive. Maybe it's been since the Orpheum, actually. Luke can't really remember. "C'mere," Alex encourages him. "I'm good for hugs today, if you want some."

Maybe once upon a time Luke would have pretended not to be eager, but even then, he would have done a bad job, and now he doesn't even bother with the act. Immediately, he takes his hands off his face, blinking against the return of the light as he turns to Alex, flings an arm across Alex's chest and a leg over Alex's hip, snuggling up tight until he's plastered to the side of Alex's body. Alex just laughs, quiet, extends his arm out so Luke can pillow his head on Alex's shoulder, one hand coming up to mess up Luke's hair even more than it already was.

For a moment, they lie there together, Luke relaxing until he feels more and more like his body and Alex's body are synced, breaths coming in and out at a similar pace. The bitter, jittery feeling in his spine eases back, lets go of his tongue, so he feels less likely to bite at whoever comes close.

Which is good timing, because there's another whoosh, and this weight lands behind him, on the bed as soon as they arrive.

"You guys are cuddling without me?" Reggie says, but he doesn't sound upset. In fact, he sounds delighted that there's cuddling happening, period. There's scuffling, and then two thuds, because Reggie knows better than to let his shoes touch Julie's bed, and then Luke feels a different warmth, sweeter than Alex's, more caramelised, and Reggie spoons against Luke's back, his nose burying into Luke's neck and one arm laying all the way over him to rest on Alex's chest.

"We were cuddling without you, because Luke was being a miserable grouch, but we've been interrupted," Alex says primly, and as Luke manages a mildly offended hey!, Reggie laughs, not phased at all. Luke can feel it as it vibrates from Reggie's chest to his own back, the tangibility of his joy making Luke feel warm from the inside. Reggie and Alex start bickering over the top of his head, and he doesn't really pay attention to them. Some part of him is trying to string some lyrics together, about being warm, about being able to feel someone else laughing because they're pressed so closely to you that their happiness feels just as much your own. But he's not quite sure what he's trying to say, yet.

They're still there when Julie gets home from school. Luke hears the door open and close, feels Reggie go tense, like he's worried they're going to get yelled at. But Julie only sounds kind of exasperated when she says, "Seriously, guys? Boundaries?"

"Luke's having a bad day," Reggie explains right away.

"Not anything serious," Alex corrects him, "just in a bad mood."

Luke nods and wriggles a bit between his boys, sits up so he can look at Julie properly.

The feeling of his heart in his mouth when he sees her will apparently never stop. She looks tired and ruffled from her day at school, hair a cloud around her face where he can see she was running her fingers through it as she thought in class, skirt crumpled at the hem where she would have wrinkled it in her fist, rubbed the fabric between her fingers. She dumps her backpack on the carpet and offers him a grin, and he can't remember what in the world he could have been grumpy about. If being a ghost brought him to her, being a ghost is awesome.

He looks around at the bed and realises they're going to have to rearrange, but Alex and Reggie seem on the same page at the same time, because they're his favourites and he loves them and he wants them close to him always. They move, adjusting and shuffling around, until a spot for Julie appears in between Alex and Luke. With a relieved sigh, she flops down, and Luke might be fooling himself, but he thinks he feels her energy, too. It's softer than Alex or Reggie, enveloping, like warm water scented with something beautiful.

She leans over Luke to kiss Reggie's forehead hello, then kisses Luke on the mouth (she tastes like the cherry bubblegum Flynn always carries around), then she turns to kiss Alex on the cheek. "I have homework to do later," she says, but it comes out a little garbled as she surprises herself with a yawn. Luke, Alex and Reggie exchange a fond look over the top of her head — she'll be asleep before she knows it. Alex nods his head at the clock on her desk and mouths I'll wake her up, because Luke and Reggie both have absolutely zero time perception.

Luke wraps his arms around Julie's waist and holds her close to him, and she settles in, Alex curling up to hold her from behind while Reggie moves up a bit, so he can press himself to Luke and run his hands gently through Julie's hair at the same time. Their different kinds of warm all stitch themselves together, weaving over Luke's body like a blanket, like a shield. All that's wrong with the world is on the other side, kept away from him by Alex's fingers rubbing little circles into Luke's side, by the feeling of Julie's chest rising and falling with her breaths, by the movement of Reggie's arms over his head. By all of them curled as close to him as they can be.

Luke's day isn't so terrible after all.

--

jatp taglist (lmk if you want to be added or removed!!): @queenmolina @nickalicious @bi-reginald @malecacidd @burntchromas @jughead-is-canonically-aroace @cinnamonstickrayofsunlight @chickwiththepurpleguitar @fairylightsandrainydays @joyandthephantoms @fighttoshine @michelangelinda @queenofthequillandink @random-nerd-3 @silent-silver-slip @apolo81 @evashmz @bagoffriedrice @thedeathdeelers

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Not Bad

Prompts: Hihi, i have a Merlin prompt if you're interested. Merlin thinks he's a bad person bec he was taught that magic is bad, but also Bec of all the stuff he did/does to keep Arthur safe and ig throw in some touch starved!Merlin too for fun. But the knights compliment/hug/etc all the time and Merlin just doesn't understand what he's supposed to do with this, so the solution is to breakdown crying and try to convince the knights he's the bad person he sees himself as and the knights are just like "but you're wrong and he's 25 reasons why you're wrong" Plz, thx, love your writing - anon

im a fuckin sucker for soft knights & arthur w merlin so, if ur still takings reqs, i would love to see when the knights realize merlin still views himself as a "monster" like is hinted in first ep (? i thinkk, im rusty on my merlin trivia)- is it a passing comment he makes and they realize all together? knight cuddle pile? just give the poor boy some love - anon

if you'd want to write it i'd love to see the collective moment that the knights realize that merlin is self-harming in some way (in my brain this is probably in like a denial-of-things type thing that he probably doesn't even see as self-harm bc he's an idiot, could even be something like healing everyone else w magic but refusing to heal himself... idk feel free to do whatever you see fit!). i can only imagine they'd be frustrated with him and themselves but theyre just loving large idiots (': - anon

ahh yes all the prompts

Read on Ao3 Part 2

Warnings: implied/referenced self-harm in the form of intentionally depriving oneself of physical contact because THAT COUNTS

Pairings: merthur, can be platonic or romantic I don't care

Word Count: 3462

Arthur is confused, very upset, and nothing is alright anymore, thank you very much.

Because you see, despite the image that he tries to present—emphasis on the word ‘try’, there, according to his knights—he does care an awful lot about his people, especially his one particular person that happens to be able to say an awful lot without saying anything.

Merlin. He’s talking about Merlin, in case you hadn’t noticed.

The problem is that for all the man can ramble on about seemingly anything, at any time, he’s remarkably good at saying absolutely nothing about himself. He claims he’s an open book, but he’s certainly in a language that Arthur doesn’t know how to read.

He does know how to read, just to clarify. That isn’t the issue here.

No, no, the issue is that after months, years, almost a decade of Merlin by his side, watching his back, taking care of him, he’s discovered that there’s a secret that Merlin’s keeping from him. One he never intended to tell Arthur.

And before you panic, no, he’s not talking about Merlin’s magic.

Come on, it’s not like it’s not obvious, the man isn’t exactly good at hiding it. Does he seriously believe Arthur can’t see the tree branches that miraculously pick themselves up and fly at the nearest bandit or the spears that fling themselves at the foe about to behind Gwaine? Or the chores that mysteriously get done too fast for Merlin and far too efficiently? Or the way certain magical ailments seem to vanish mysteriously along with his idiot of a servant only to be greeted with a soft shrug when he pokes?

Merlin’s eyes also turn gold, that’s pretty neat.

So Merlin has magic.

Yes, we know, we had a small tantrum over the fact that he told Lancelot first, but it’s fine. Quite frankly, a lot of things make more sense now.

Except for this. Not this.

Merlin is hiding the secret that he believes he’s a bad person.

Now, Arthur’s not sure if you’ve met Merlin, but the man isn’t exactly the image of the evildoer that springs to mind when someone says ‘bad person.’

The Witch Finder, now there’s a bad person. Storming into Camelot, preying on the fear of the people, bribing and threatening and drugging people, torturing them, and condemning them to death just for the sake of a few coins.

Merlin did storm into Camelot, that is true, but he decided to pick a fight with the crown prince and then save his life. He’s not here for coin—if he were, they wouldn’t have had that small, er, issue about the steward not paying him anything for his work for the past eight years, honestly—and he’s certainly not preying on anyone’s fears. Except perhaps Arthur’s fear of losing his dignity.

The look on his father’s face when Merlin dodged the pillow…

Speaking of his father…there’s another one.

His father did not prey as openly on the people’s fear—or as obviously as Aredian, but prey on them he did. He was a strong king, sometimes too strong. He was a blind king, saw the people as nothing more than subjects, not the living breathing humans they are. He remembers Morgana’s voice, saying that authority should derive from the consent of the governed, not from the threat of force.

He always wanted to see Uther’s face when his ward—when his daughter said that to him.

And what he’s done to Morgana…

Arthur grimaces and shakes his head. Perhaps the very truth that he resents the idea of thinking about what Uther did to Morgana, to him…perhaps that is enough.

Those are bad people. At least to Arthur.

Merlin, on the other hand…

Merlin came into Camelot, knowing that if it was discovered that he has magic, he would be burnt at the stake. He came, not with any aspirations of glory, simply because he trusted his mother when she told him to come to Gaius. He came and he was given a job he never asked for, one he had no idea how to do, and stayed.

Merlin learned. Slowly, perhaps, but he learned. Now he has enough knowledge on what a servant should do to break the rules in the most spectacular fashion. Arthur smiles, biting back the chuckle at seeing George dressed up like Merlin and acting perfectly proper and the urge Arthur had to throw him out of the room.

And that’s not even mentioning what he does when he’s not following Arthur around.

Merlin learned. Merlin stayed.

Not just for Gaius, but for Arthur.

Arthur leans onto his desk, staring out into the courtyard where Merlin is tending to the knights’ horses as they mount up for patrol. He watches Leon step a little closer, lowering his head to mutter something to him, watching Gwaine clap Merlin on the shoulder.

Watches Merlin flinch a little too hard.

Watches Leon’s brow furrow and Gwaine take a step back.

This. This is the problem.

Merlin believes he’s a bad person. Which is wrong, but for some reason, he does.

And because Merlin believes he’s a bad person, he believes that anytime one of the knights touches him—or anyone touches him—it will be to hurt him.

How did they come to this conclusion, you may ask?

Arthur bites back a snarl as he turns away from the window.

It had started with the complements.

Gwaine, to no one’s surprise, was quite fond of flirting with anyone and everyone that would let him, Merlin no exception. Talking about Merlin’s looks, his personality, his work ethic, anything, and everything. Merlin would flush, bright red, ears and all, mumbling to himself.

But then Percival had said something and Merlin pushed him away—well, prodded his arm, no one really moves Percival without Percival letting them—and shook his head. Percival had shrugged but the rest of them had noticed the tension in Merlin’s shoulders.

Then Elyan complemented Merlin’s tracking abilities and Merlin hadn’t even acknowledged it, instead insisting that they keep moving before it got too dark to see and they’d be forced to make camp in the woods. They’d agreed, pressing on, but noting the way that Merlin refused to say so much as thank you.

Leon’s perceptiveness should be considered magical. Seriously, Arthur’s not entirely convinced the man can’t see into people’s heads, what with the information he’s able to produce out of nothing more than the twitch of a finger or the slightest huff of breath. But he sees the way Merlin shies away from any display of affection, even as he gently repeats it, watching Merlin turn his back and get back to work.

Arthur never saw what happened with Lancelot. All he knows is that one night, out in the woods, the two of them had gone off to collect firewood and Merlin had been hiding red-rimmed eyes when he returned, a few paces ahead of Lancelot, not ten minutes later. Arthur had glared but the forlorn confusion on Lancelot’s face had given him pause.

Then it was the touching.

One would expect Merlin to be a quite tactile person, and he is. He’s all shoulder nudges and pokes and prods and gentle shoves to get people to move where he wants them to go. And it’s not like the man has much concept of personal space.

No, some of that is not Arthur’s fault, how dare you?

But when someone else tries it, Merlin tenses reflexively, already moving before their hands make contact. He gives everyone he can a wide berth, scuttling around the outside of rooms until one of them breaks and tells him to come here, Merlin, it’s alright, we won’t hurt you. His face never quite believes them.

The strangest thing is how much of it Merlin makes small adjustments for.

He always wears those god-awful tunics, that he won’t let Arthur replace with fabric that doesn’t feel like it’s a burlap sack, with the sleeves pulled all the way down and those kerchiefs tied around his neck. Arthur’s seen his sleeves rolled up before, but only when Merlin’s working and he hasn’t realized Arthur’s there yet. It’s not like Arthur doesn’t know Merlin has forearms, but Merlin will always jump and guiltily roll his sleeves down.

He doesn’t notice why until he accidentally brushes Merlin’s bare skin once and Merlin all but tears away like he’s been burned.

He doesn’t know why.

Merlin has a secret. The secret is that he believes he’s a bad person. That means he can’t accept compliments and he can’t let them touch him.

This is a problem, because Arthur would very much like for Merlin to believe that he isn’t a bad person.

This is also a problem because Arthur has no idea how to do that.

He looks up when there’s a knock on the door.

“Enter.”

“Sire?” Leon steps through. “May we come in?”

Arthur nods, his eyebrows raising as all of his knights spill into the room.

“Shall I assume you’re on the warpath again?”

“Nah,” Gwaine grumbles, throwing himself into a chair, “know this isn’t your fault.”

Leon shakes his head. “It’s Merlin, sire, we’re…concerned.”

Arthur just sighs and tells them what’s been buzzing around his head for the past…however long it’s been. The knights nod.

“He doesn’t like to be touched when he doesn’t expect it,” Lancelot offers, “but when I ask…he doesn’t seem to want to agree either.”

“But he does,” Gwaine argues, “you’ve seen the way he stares at us when we hug each other, he looks like a poor child that’s never had a hug in his life!”

“Which isn’t true.” Elyan folds his arms. “Gwen’s hugged him.”

“We’ve all hugged him.”

“But he still thinks we’re going to hurt him.”

“Well,” Arthur mutters, “we can’t exactly blame him for being paranoid, can we?”

“If you lot are going to talk about me behind my back like it’s a war council, then yeah, I reserve the right to be paranoid.”

“Merlin!”

“Thank god, where’ve you been?”

“I thought we were meeting by the stables.”

“Did you get hurt?”

Merlin raises his hands and takes a step back. “Whoa, can I get through the door first before the interrogation starts?”

“This isn’t an interrogation,” Arthur says, glaring at the knights, “we’re concerned.”

“Uh-huh,” Merlin mutters, weaving through them to the table so he can set down the thing hooked over his arm, “yes, I’m all too familiar with your concern.”

Arthur frowns. “What does that mean?”

Merlin waves a hand. “Oh, just that it’s a prelude to more chores and things to do.”

Is that…true?

“Yes.”

Did he say that out loud?

“Also yes.”

Arthur shakes his head. “Merlin, we’re not coming up with lists and lists for chores for you to do.”

“Really? With how many you all constantly give me, here I finally thought I’d cracked the code as to why.”

Leon steps forward. “We’re not coming up with things to give you, Merlin, nor are we intending to gossip behind your back.”

“So what are you doing?”

“We’re worried,” Lancelot repeats, “about you.”

“Well, I’m right as rain, no need to worry.”

“Lie.”

Merlin’s eyes go wide and he stares at Leon. The knight smiles ruefully and takes another little step forward.

“Lie,” he repeats gently, “you don’t have to lie to us, Merlin.”

Merlin’s mouth thins. “Maybe I don’t want to tell you, then.”

“Why not—“

“No,” Arthur breaks in, causing Merlin to swing his head around again, “no, if Merlin doesn’t want to tell us he doesn’t have to.”

Gwaine looks on the verge of protest, but another look from Lancelot is enough to quell him. He sinks into the chair and tosses an apple to Merlin.

“At least eat something,” he says by way of explanation, “you’ve not eaten anything since lunch.”

Merlin looks very confused—good, now he’s just like the rest of them—but bites into the apple nonetheless. His gaze travels around the room before coming to rest on Leon.

“Why are you all concerned?”

“Because you won’t let us complement you, Merlin,” Leon says softly, “you believe that every time we touch you we intend to hurt you, and you believe that this is deserved because you are a bad person.”

The flabbergasted look on Merlin’s face is almost enough to make Arthur laugh. Almost.

“How…”

“We notice things, Merlin,” Leon says patiently, “we notice you.”

Lancelot snorts. “Good going, mate, you’ll freak him out.”

“Um—there’s nothing worth noticing about me—“

“Not we all know that’s not true,” Gwaine says, and if it had been any other time it would’ve sounded like the next pick-up line at the tavern, “you’re worth noticing, Merlin.”

Merlin’s gaze darts back and forth, finding no disagreement in any faces.

“What—what were you concerned about?”

“Aside from what we just told you?”

“But I don’t—why is that a problem?”

Arthur swallows a curse. “Are you asking why we’re upset that you believe you’re a bad person and you deserve to be treated badly?”

“…yes?”

“Because you’re not a bad person,” Elyan says, “and you don’t deserve to feel like everyone’s about to hurt you.”

Gods, the look of disbelief on Merlin’s face hurts.

“You don’t know that,” he says lowly, setting the apple down, “you don’t know that.”

“Sure we do.” Elyan uncrosses his arms. “We know you, Merlin.”

“I don’t think you do.”

A look passes around the group of knights. Elyan smiles.

“I know that Gwen came home and told me she’d made a friend the first week you arrived in Camelot. I know that you’ve reminded us what family means. I know that you care, Merlin, about your friends, because they’re important to you.”

Merlin blinks in confusion.

“I know you’re a strong man,” Percival says, “and not just because you can lift the packs for the horses without complaining. But you work hard, because you know you can, and so that people don’t have to. You provide what you can because you know what it’s like to have nothing.”

“I—I—“

“I know you’re brave,” Lancelot says softly, standing, “I know you feel the same fear that we all do and you stare it straight in the face.”

He pauses, takes one step closer.

“I know you don’t chase the glory of being brave, but the feeling of being brave and using it.”

“Guys, I—“

“I know what you’ve done.”

Merlin’s face goes pale at Leon’s words.

The knight tilts his head to the side and smiles.

“I’ve been around the longest,” he says in a near whisper, “and I have seen the changes from when you arrived in Camelot until now. I’ve seen the differences, not just in the other men in this room but in Camelot.”

He lays a hand on his chest.

“I know that you’ve made me prouder to serve this kingdom than many others that have tried.”

Poor Merlin is shaking right now, his fingers trembling on the edge of the table. He looks around in confusion, terribly frightened, sending more aches through Arthur’s chest.

“You wouldn’t say that—“ he gasps— “you wouldn’t say that if you knew the truth.”

“And what truth is that?”

“That—that I—“ Merlin’s breaths start to ring in the chamber— “I—I—“

“That you have magic?”

Merlin’s head jerks around to stare at Arthur. Arthur raises his hands and takes a step closer. Merlin flinches.

“It’s alright, Merlin,” Arthur says softly, “I’m not angry. I’m not going to hurt you. You have magic, though, right?”

“Yes—yes, I—but I’ve only ever used it for—for you Arthur, I—“

“Easy,” he soothes, fighting the urge to reach out and pull him close, “I know. It’s alright.”

“No, it’s not,” Merlin all but whimpers, “it’s not okay, it’s bad, it’s bad and I’m bad, I’m bad—“

“You’re not.”

“I am!”

Merlin yanks his arms to his sides, curling them tightly around himself, much to the protest of the knights. His fingers whiten as he clutches the sides of his tunic.

“I’m bad, bad people get hurt, you don’t—you don’t touch bad people.”

“Merlin,” Arthur breaks in softly, “Merlin, sweetheart, I’m going to come over to you.”

He can hear the quickly stifled gasps and Gwaine’s ‘oh shit’ as he inches towards Merlin. The poor man doesn’t move, but the tremors get worse and worse the closer Arthur gets.

“I’m right here,” he murmurs, “I won’t hurt you, sweetheart, do you believe me? That I won’t hurt you?”

“I—I—“

“Because I won’t,” he promises, still fighting the urge to swoop the poor thing into a hug, “I’ll never hurt you, sweetheart.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re not bad, Merlin, and you certainly don’t deserve to be hurt.”

“You don’t know that,” comes the strangled whisper, “you don’t know what I’ve done.”

“But I know you, Merlin,” Arthur murmurs, “and that’s enough.”

He can’t stop the concerned noise at Merlin’s huff of disbelief.

“It’s enough, sweetheart, it’s—hey! Easy, easy,” he soothes as Merlin’s knees buckle and he catches him before he can hit the ground, “I’ve got you, shh, shh, you’re alright.”

“Oh,” Lancelot murmurs as Merlin starts to shiver terribly, “oh, Merlin, you’re touch starved.”

“Touch starved?”

“He’s not been touched for a very long time,” Lancelot murmurs, hustling to join them on the floor, scooping Merlin’s legs into his lap, “and so he’s not used to it, but he needs it.”

“We all need touch?”

“Yes, otherwise our bodies get…unhappy.” Lancelot shakes his head. “I’m sure Gaius could explain it more. The short version is humans aren’t built to hold each other at arm’s length.”

Arthur tightens his grip on the lapful of shaking Merlin he has. There’s a cold nose buried in the crook of his neck, arms looping awkwardly around his shoulders. Distantly, he hears the scufflings of the other knights as they move closer.

“We’ve got you, sweetheart,” he fins himself whispering, “we’ve got you, we won’t hurt you, you’re safe, you’re good, we have you, it’s alright, now…”

Poor Merlin is still shuddering terribly.

“Shh, shh, easy, just try and relax, we have you…”

Since when has Merlin been this cold?

“Oh, I’m definitely hugging you every day,” Gwaine mutters, helping to prop Merlin up away from the table.

“Why—“ Merlin swallows— “why are you all so warm?”

“You’re cold,” Arthur says, “we’re helping.”

“I’m—I’m—what is it? Touch—touch—“

“Touch starved,” Lancelot offers gently, “yes, Merlin.”

“You’re helping?”

Gwaine shifts behind him. “We’re helping.”

“You’re not…mad?”

“No, Merlin, we’re not mad.”

“I’m not bad?”

Arthur tightens his grip. “Never, Merlin.”

“You—I can—I can stay?”

“Yes, Merlin,” comes the chorus of knights, “for as long as you like.”

Arthur is still upset, very confused, and more than a little overprotective right now.

But so is Merlin.

And they’re…they’re starting to figure it out.

One thing’s for sure: Arthur’s definitely pulling Merlin into bed to cuddle with him instead of getting up in the morning.

[rosyfingereddawnn]

That’s The Way (Chapter 3)

Pairing: Jimmy Page x Reader

Word count: 3.7k

Warning(s): smut/nsfw, cheating, cursing, angst, Y/N being a badass :)

Author’s notes: We’ll be honest...this chapter is a lot to handle 😂 which is amazing since it’s only Chapter 3 of many! We suggest taking a break throughout, because you’re gonna need it 😂 So much happens that your mind may actually explode from the drama. By the way, Jimmy is introduced in the next chapter so yay! As usual, please enjoy, happy reading, and send us messages if you have theories, comments, music recommendations for the playlist, or if you want to be added to the tag list :)

Chapters: 1 | 2

————

Paul took Y/N out to dinner that week, and they had a wonderful time together. It seemed that every conversation they had together brought them closer and closer, and Y/N was in pure bliss. From that point forward, the two became inseparable.

Y/N’s parents, however, were not super pleased that Y/N was seeing Paul, especially because they had warned her about the romantically-unattached musician’s mannerisms and habits not that long ago. They just decided to act like they liked Paul, so he wouldn’t get suspicious or feel bad.

Two members of The Yardbirds in particular (and I’m sure, dear reader, that you know who they are by now) were hit with pangs of jealousy whenever they saw Y/N constantly attached to Paul’s arm. And, to make matters worse, it was under any circumstance imaginable: parties, interviews, photoshoots, meetings, airports, train stations, hotels...the list goes on. Yes, they did spend plenty of time apart, but attraction can make a man think irrationally. Even though they were specifically and strictly told to keep their mouths shut, it was very tempting to just say the truth and end their misery. A part of Chris and Jim felt happy to see her happy, but another, traitorous side of them felt exponentially bad for her. They knew that she was being used by Paul as arm-candy, and they knew that she, of all people, did not deserve that.

But that’s the name of the game, unfortunately.

~~~~~~~~

18 February 1966

The Yardbirds were scheduled to perform on an episode of Ready, Steady, Go! that night, and Y/N decided to go and be a part of the live audience. She felt an obligation to support Paul and the band, since they were all friends (and a boyfriend, of course) now.

Before the show, Jim, Jeff, and Keith were all sitting on the stage, discussing the logistics of the rehearsals that would start soon. Y/N stood in front of the already-prepared stage and chatted with them.

“So what are you guys going to do on our days off next week?” Jeff asked.

“Spend time with my family,” Keith replied, adjusting his sunglasses.

“Not sure yet, haven’t figured it out,” Jim added.

“How ‘bout you, Miss Y/N?” Jeff nodded towards her with a smile. She answered with a soft giggle.

“I’m probably going golfing with my brother and a couple mates.”

“You golf?” Jim asked. She seemed to be getting more and more perfect by the day.

“Mmhmm,” Y/N nodded enthusiastically, “I’m bloody awful at it, but it’s fun, and I can hang out with my brother, so it’s a win-win.”

“You never told us you had siblings,” Keith smirked, tilting to the side and crossing his arms.

“Oh yeah, I have three. There’s Tommy, my older brother; Charlie, my younger brother; and Lillian, my little sister,” Y/N said.

“Wow, full house,” Jeff remarked, “I have a sister, Annetta, who I think you’d get along with quite well. I’ll have to introduce you to her soon.”

“Oh, that’d be great! I’d love to meet another Beck,” Y/N replied playfully. Jeff just laughed and shook his head.

“It’s a shame that I can’t spend time with Paul this week. He said he was busy, but he didn’t explain why,” Y/N sighed, “whatever. It’s probably legitimate, so I don’t mind. We’ve been hanging out too much anyway.” She laughed at the last part.

“He’s probably just going home to his wife,” Jim replied, thoughtlessly.

At that instant, everyone’s eyes widened, eyebrows raised, and lips downturned into a shocked, panicked frown.

“He’s...what?” Y/N asked quietly, sounding like she was about to shatter into a thousand tiny pieces.

Y/N noticed that Keith and Jeff were glaring at Jim, who was clearly embarrassed at what he had revealed. He hid his eyes with his hand.

When Jeff finally found it in him to turn away from Jim, he deeply exhaled. He then reached out his hands to touch Y/N’s shoulders in an attempt to comfort her.

“Look, Y/N, you weren’t supposed to find out this way, and I’m so sorry we didn’t tell you sooner,” Jeff began, “but he is indeed married. I honestly don’t know why he wanted to pursue you, and I warned him against it because of how much we care about you, but he did it anyway.”

Tears streamed down Y/N’s face and her bottom lip started to quiver. “I can’t believe this,” she whispered, “he made it seem like I was the only one…that he was really in love with me...”

Jeff hated seeing his friend cry because of something he could have prevented. But, Y/N was somehow still beautiful when she cried.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Jeff consoled gently, getting off the stage to hug her, “here, let’s take you backstage to calm you down a little.”

Y/N refused Jeff’s kind offer with a shake of the head. Through her blurry, teary-eyed vision, she just plastered on a smile, and wiped the wetness from her eyes.

“Ew,” her voice cracked, “why am I crying? That’s so gross of me, I’m so sorry. I’m definitely making you guys uncomfortable.”

The three musicians’ eyes widened at Y/N’s sudden burst of emotional strength.

“Y/N, you just found out you were Sam’s side chick, and you don’t care?” Jeff inquired, genuinely confused as to what was going on with Y/N’s emotions.

“It’s okay to be sad, love. And utterly fuming with anger. I must admit, this situation wouldn’t be as dire if it were someone else, but it’s you,” Keith added. Jim just sat in silence. He didn’t know what to say. His message destroyed Y/N’s heart and her innocence.

“I am sad, but if this ‘thing’ went on any longer, I’d probably be even more devastated. You saved me from a lot more unnecessary heartbreak, so thank you, Jim,” Y/N said. Her tone sounded completely numb.

“How are you gonna tell Sam?” Keith asked Y/N.

She exhaled deeply. “I don’t know. It wouldn’t be fair of me to lash out on him before being on national television.”

“How can you care about fairness? Don’t you realize what this man has done to you?” Jeff asked, anger interlaced in his voice.

“Yes, Jeff. I do,” Y/N replied stoically, “And I’ll be fine, really. Let’s just forget about it, okay? I’m just lucky to be here, watching you perform. What song are you playing again?” Y/N tried to change the subject, but on the inside she was in deep agony and pain. She poured all of this time and emotion and her body into this cute musician boy, just to realize she didn’t matter.

“‘Shapes of Thi—’” Keith began quietly.

Jeff cut him off. “Y/N, I seriously refuse to believe you’re okay. Please, just let me help y—” he started.

“Jeff! I’m fine! Seriously,” Y/N raised her voice a little, annoyed at the nagging.

“But you seem—” Jim began, barely perceptible.

“Oh my God, Jim, I’m fine!” Y/N shouted. “I don’t care. It’s done, it’s over.”

The three men sat in silence after Y/N’s sudden outburst of anger, which was very out of character for her. She quickly realized what she had done.

“I’m so sorry for lashing out on you guys. That was uncalled for, it’s not your fault. I’m gonna go to the loo, excuse me,” she said quickly, walking out of the scene before anyone could call after her.

~~~~~~~~

Y/N stayed in the bathroom for all of rehearsals, and she finally reemerged right before the broadcast was about to start, looking as fresh as she did when she got there. It was as if the news was never even brought to her attention.

She refused to make eye contact with Paul through the entire performance, even though it was apparent that he tried to get her attention with his eyes. Chris was just confused that she wouldn’t even dare to glance at Paul. Just a little trouble in paradise that he didn’t know about maybe?

After the show and when the band went offstage, Jeff went back into the crowd to check on Y/N and brought her backstage.

“You have to confront him,” Jeff pleaded.

“I don’t want to,” Y/N whined.

“You have to, or else he’ll bloody win! You don’t want that, and I sure as hell don’t want that for you either! He is the one at fault. You have every right to fuck him up for it.”

Jeff’s little speech gave her an impulsive boost of confidence.

“Fine. I’ll do it. Get everyone out of the room, though,” Y/N stated firmly, beginning to march down the hallway behind Jeff.

Momentarily, Jeff went into the room and rounded up Keith, Jim, and Chris, and filed them down the hallway into another room orderly.

As Y/N was about to enter the room, Jeff whispered in her ear, “Good luck, kid. Knock ‘em dead.” Y/N smiled at Jeff before entering the room and closing the door behind her.

~~~~~~~~

Paul warmly smiled at Y/N as she entered the room.

“Hello, love,” he said gently, “how did you enjoy the show?”

Y/N painted on the most genuine smile she could force. “It was...almost perfect.”

Paul’s eyebrow quirked as he smiled in a confused way. “Why almost?”

“I don’t think rehearsals went as well as I had planned,” Y/N replied smoothly.

“Why? Did something bad happen to you? You’re speaking in riddles, dear.”

“Oh, I apologize,” Y/N snickered, “it’s actually so funny that you bring up riddles, because that seemed to be the exact problem at hand.”

“What does that mean? Did someone tell you something you couldn’t figure out?” Paul chuckled, “You’re confusing me.”

“I figured out that you would be going home to your wife next week.”

All the colour from Paul’s face was drained in a millisecond, and his originally jovial expression was gone. It was as if someone punched him in the gut.

“Who...who told you?” he asked, panicked.

Y/N was taken aback. “I find out I’m your side-chick and you have the audacity to ask who told me? Not an ‘I’m so sorry that I lied to you and broke your heart, Y/N’?”

Paul huffed. “And you expect me to just keep my composure when someone of your gravity walks into the room for the first time? I really am sorry, Y/N, I truly, truly am, but—”

Y/N’s calm and quiet demeanor had left the building at that point. She was mad. Really mad.

“But what? You tell me how in love you are with me, and how I’m your one and only forever, just to realize that I didn’t matter? I’m going to be eighteen years old in March. Eighteen. What do I know about love? Nothing, absolutely nothing. And you chose to take full advantage of my emotional vulnerability.”

“But you did matter. You’re so special to me, Y/N. Don’t you understand that?”

“Don’t you understand that you have a wife? You never loved me. I was never special to you. I was just another fling. But you won’t admit it to yourself.”

“The life of a travelling musician is extremely difficult, Y/N, and you don’t get that,” Paul said severely.

“And that shouldn’t be used as an excuse. You know what? We’re done. Whatever this ‘thing’ is, is over. I wish you the best,” Y/N concluded as she walked out the door and sternly shut it.

The nightmare was over and Y/N was a free agent.

Before she could debrief about her experience with any of the other Yardbirds, Y/N left the venue, caught the first taxi home, ran up into her room, and cried herself to sleep.

~~~~~~~~

22 April 1966

Y/N found recovery time and solace in those two months without Paul. She didn’t go to any Yardbirds gigs, but she sporadically met up with Jeff, Keith, Jim, and Chris at a pub or restaurant to catch up over a meal and drinks. Chris had recently mentioned to her that they were playing in London on the 22nd, and if she felt comfortable, she could attend for free and get backstage to hang out.

Y/N said she’d have to think about it, but she’d definitely consider it.

She had realized over the course of two months that she was not truly in love with Paul. Yes, she fancied him, but she must’ve mistaken the feeling of being genuinely in love with the person for being in love with the situation. Y/N concluded that this relationship was the equivalent of living out one’s childhood dreams of a romance with their schoolgirl crush.

She decided that she was retired from dating for a long time, especially because of how this shitshow ended, but a miniscule piece of her wondered when and how she’d meet her other half.

In the afternoon on the day of the show, which was to be played at the Wimbledon Palais, Y/N made the reckless decision to take a trip down to the Yardbirds’ hotel, but not for the reason you might expect.

Y/N never got the chance to thank Jim McCarty for coming clean about Paul’s infidelity to his wife by “dating” her, and to formally apologize for ripping him at the Ready, Steady, Go! rehearsals. She felt bad for being so dismissive of him, because he was always so nice to her and apparently seemed to care more about her wellbeing than Paul ever did.

Y/N stood on the platform of the train station anxiously, meticulously scheming in her mind about what she would say to Jim to truly and genuinely express her gratitude. She thought about how the encounter would go all the way to London, and all the way on her walk to the hotel.

When she arrived at the hotel, she greeted the concierge, and took the elevator to what she believed to be the Yardbirds’ floor. She took an educated guess as to which room Jim’s would be, just by what she had seen in past times. Y/N took a deep breath before knocking on the door.

When the door opened, she realized that in her best interest, her guess was correct.

“Hi,” she greeted breathily, her fingers interlaced together in front of her timidly.

“Hi,” Jim smiled. After a short moment of awkward silence, he continued, “Um, what are you doing here? Not that it’s a bad thing, which it’s not, but…” he trailed off.

“I just wanted to tell you something that I think needed to be said in-person,” Y/N said quickly.

Jim raised his eyebrows in surprised delight. “Oh, okay.” He moved out of the way of the doorframe so Y/N could enter the room, then shut the door gently behind her. “Welcome to my humble abode,” he chuckled, “make yourself at home.”

Y/N smiled and thanked him graciously, but shyly, as she sat down at a small couch at the edge of the bed. Jim was quick to follow her actions.

Y/N took a deep breath before beginning, “I just wanted to thank you for informing me about Paul in February. I know, it’s been a really long time since then… but I’ve needed some time to myself to think and refocus and recuperate, y’know?”

Jim just laughed. “You came all the way here to thank me? That’s so nice of you. You didn’t need to do that.”

Y/N grinned. “I don’t know, I felt this obligation for some reason. And in addition, I wanted to apologize for lashing out at you as well. I was just shell-shocked, I guess, and I unfairly took it out on you and Jeff.”

“If I forgave you then, I’ll still forgive you now,” Jim smiled, “don’t sweat it. In all honesty, I was surprised at how well you took the news.”

“I just wanted to be as calm and composed as possible,” Y/N blushed, “but obviously I didn’t get very far, did I?” Jim laughed at Y/N’s little jab at herself.

“Well, you’re so quiet, at least you showed a piece of your inner self that night,” Jim teased. Y/N just beamed at him.

“You know, since I owe you, now… I guess I just need to live a little, y’know? I have this introverted shell I need to break out of someday, and I might as well start now,” Y/N offered with a chuckle. “So, with that being said, let me do something for you. Anything you want.”

“Oh no, that’s too much. You didn’t even cause me any grief,” Jim retaliated playfully, “thank you, Y/N, but I think you’re overthinking this whole situation.”

“Please,” she continued with a pleading voice, “I feel awful, and plus, if it makes you feel better, you’ll be helping me clear my conscience. Jim, I’ll do anything you want, no matter how crazy… I’ll take you jet-skiing, I’ll ride on a bike in a bikini when the temperature is below freezing, I’ll clean your kitchen… anything you want me to do, I will do.”

Jim grinned at the bizarre options Y/N gave him before contemplating her invocation for a moment. Anything, huh?

“Kiss me.”

“You said you'd do anything, no matter how crazy, yes?” Y/N didn't get a chance to finish, as Jim interrupted her with a hand at her wrist, and a flinty look in his eyes, that gazed right into hers.

“I did.”

“Well,” Jim continued, stepping ever-closer to the young woman in front of him. She looked just as beautiful as she always had, if not more. Jim was convinced she was perfect, and wanted to protect her. To treat her right, the way she deserved. “You could get on your knees, in front of me.”

Kneeling down on the carpeted floor, Y/N looked up at him through her eyelashes, and the glint in her eyes made his knees weak. She looked almost shy, and he couldn't help but send a comforting smile her way.

“Have you done this before, Y/N?”

She shook her head at this, and looked down, almost embarrassed. Jim, heart pounding in his chest in anticipation, reached out a hand to lift her head. Her eyes held trust, and a hint of nervousness, but her lips quirk up in a smile, her cheeks flushing.

“I’ll walk you through it, love.” The sound of a belt clinking to the floor reached Y/N’s ears, zipper following suit, and she couldn’t help the way she almost thrummed with anticipation. Her parents had warned her against exactly this type of thing. Musicians were, according to her parents, a fickle breed, who only wanted her for her looks and body. It hurt to think of it now, when Jim was being nothing but a gentleman to her. She wanted to break out of her shell, and maybe this was the way to do it.

Y/N looks to Jim and sees him exposed, fully hard now, and her cheeks erupt into shades of rosy pink. He was big, much bigger than she would have expected, and she smiled up at him.

“Okay, love. Open your mouth.” Y/N opened her mouth, sinking it over his tip, which elicits a strained moan, full of pleasure. His hand landed in Y/N’s hair, fingers clenching gently around the tresses. The light tug Y/N felt only spurred her on.

“That’s incredible, princess. Now, try and circle your tongue. You’re doing so well.”

Y/N did as she’s told, and it’s like a spell was put over the man. He craned his head back, neck bared, as soft whimpers fell past his lips. Growing more confident, knowing now what he liked, she let her teeth rake over him lightly, which worked more moans from him, almost breathless in his euphoria.

With a murmured “fuck,” he comes, Y/N’s name the only thing on his lips. She slowly released him from her mouth, wiping her lips with the back of her hand as she stood. Jim, leaning up against the wall, was in bliss, heaving breaths and ruffling Y/N’s hair as she approached.

“That was… you're perfect, princess. Absolutely perfect.”

Y/N laughs, smile nearly splitting her cheeks, and she pressed even closer, pressing her lips to his in a soft, content embrace. She could taste the sweat on his lips, and she couldn't help but think that she could definitely get used to this feeling.

Jim revelled in the feel of her soft lips against his, and he was struck by the thought that this is exactly where he’s supposed to be. He’s where he wants to be, beside Y/N.

————

Taglist: @blood-on-blood @reincarnated70sbaby

[normal-thoughts-official]

Izzy and magnus brotp headcanons if u have any bls

i do! i dont think ive ever been asked about them before so yay!

mandatory disclaimer that this post is about the show, not the books, and idc what happens in the books and wont be taking it into consideration here

okay so i think my brotp tag for them ("crazy scientists but make it glam") pretty much sums it up. i love the concept of crazy scientists magnus and izzy. like... if magnus and alec lose braincells when theyre together, magnus and izzy gain braincells, but lose Common Sense

because they are both so into similar things like physics and biochem and technology and magic, so if the subject comes up they will start excitedly talking about idk the possibilities for time travel or something, and alec of course has no interest in those things so hes like "k imma get a drink" and when he comes back magnus and izzy are Actually Seriously Planning On Launching Themselves To Mars and he has to be like "or maybe we could discuss this here on earth???" and alec is really not used to being the voice of reason when it comes to magnus but alas

and i just love magnus and izzy as that duo who can like spend hours talking in depth about the mechanisms of time travel or cures for magical diseases or whichever subject theyre focusing on at the moment and who make a mean team when working together but who can also get Too Excited and lose it a little

other than that the other thing i like about magnus and izzy is that they can relate to each other on that sense of being reduced to The Hot Fashionista, you know? like magnus is called a lothario and izzy is always treated like her one personality trait is Sexy™ and i think both of them kind of use that perception as an armor for themselves. i have talked about that in relation to magnus several times so i dont think it bears repeating because he himself compared his eyeliner to tiger stripes and magicked makeup on when he was feeling bad and alec was coming, so. but anyway my point is that izzy is no different and that was addressed in the sh that is good and lives in my head instead of her just being reduced to eye candy the whole show

like it's obvious that izzy's whole thing with being Sexy™ is something that she uses as part of her rebel act. like, her mom is gonna reduce her to a stupid slut anyway, so why not act the part? case in point: twi!izzy. in the world where the lightwoods weren't making her and alec's life hell, she allowed herself to be a lot more casual. also the way she is always talking about how she can do everything they do in heels, how she always uses her body to be "the distraction" and/or to gather information, to lure in demons even tho thats unnecessary, etc. like i think a part of izzy feels like sex is all she's good at and so she lays that in as thick as possible. she even kind of said so when she said that one of the reasons why she liked raphael is because she knew that sex wasn't a part of the equation for him

disclaimer! dressing in revealing clothes and/or sleeping around is not bad and doesnt inherently mean that the person has Unresolved Issues that end up manifesting like that, or whatever. i think izzy also dresses as she does because she likes it and good for her! she also clearly likes sex and good for her!!!! and it definitely doesn't mean her relationships are shallow because we saw how fiercely loyal she is to those he loves, platonically or romantically. i just think that the way she built her identity around that is partially because it is a good armor - if she presents herself as shallow and concerned only with instant pleasure and looking pretty, people won't get too close. and when they treat her as such, it doesn't hurt as much because she IS laying it on thick and she IS sexy and she can use it to her advantage, even to manipulate people, so whos laughing now?

for example, in s1 in particular izzy was always acting like she cared about nothing but having fun and going to parties, yet it was obvious that izzy actually cared way more about saving the downworld and helping those she loves, particularly alec. like she presents herself as shallow and unconcerned with anything but her own pleasure but it's clear that she's willing to throw all of that away - even give herself up to get married to whoever her parents choose, her own worst nightmare - for what actually matters and drives her: her loved ones and what she thinks is right. she was okay with getting deruned for what she believed in, thats not a shallow person. so obviously that whole thing was an act, and well, why put up an act like that when it borders on annoying honestly? i think it's to protect herself, for the reasons listed above

plus, it makes her mom mad, and a part of her is obviously defining herself in opposition to her mom. if her mom wants something out of her, she does the opposite, and that applies to her clothing too

anyway all of that is to say that magnus and izzy have a similar relationship with 1- their "lothario"/"slut" personas, and 2- the way they understand fashion and clothing. it's about expressing something to others, something that protects their vulnerabilities, for the both of them. and while i don't think they (particularly izzy) are exactly dying to go deep into that subject and their armors, there is that understanding between them, you know? and under the right amount of alcohol and in a safe enough environment when its just the two of them they might even talk about it and its nice to have someone who completely understands it, you know, that pretty specific defense mechanism and being reduced to sexualized stereotypes (especially since both of them are bi. id mention both of them being brown too but izzy's racial belonging in the show is uhhhhh weird to say the least so i wont get into that)

and also just the silly things! going to parties together, going shopping together, remember when magnus and izzy were both wearing the exact same color scheme and pattern? obsessed with the idea of them color coordinating just for like, the challenge of creating outfits that dont look the same or even like theyre supposed to match but that have similars colors and textures and patterns, you know?

also they are fantastic at gifting each other and somehow always know Exactly What The Other Has Their Eyes Own. like izzy will give magnus some eyeliner and he'll be like "how did you know ive been meaning to buy that?" and she'll go "i didnt" and wink at him, and the opposite is also true. or alternatively izzy will get him a book on astronomy and he'll be like "how did you know i was hyperfixating on black holes??" and she'll be like "i didn't" and the other way around as well. alec asks for their help buying gifts for the other more often than not, but izzy realized a long time ago that magnus likes alec's gifts better than hers, because even tho they aren't always a perfect fit, they are always so thoughtful and blow him away even tho that was in no way alec's intention (see: the omamori)

also izzy is fiercely protective of alec, magnus, and their relationship as a whole, which sometimes really warms magnus' heart when she just. jumps in to their defense when someone is being bitchy, you know? it's nice that she has their back

and i think thats all i have for now but aaa i love them

[one-abuse-survivor]

okay my mums abusive, i know that already and i don’t think this is abuse but it’s really weird so here:

sometimes me and mum are lying on the couch together, i’ll accidentally hit here in the toes when i move and she flips out, screams at me, swears, tells me to stop taking up all the couch, she’s done this once when she was the one who moved up into my feet. it’s like this a lot too, you accidentally hit here or bump into her and she yells and screams at you saying you wouldn’t like it, to get the fuck off her, etc.

that itself isn’t too bad but what makes it worse is the fact she will randomly come up to me and smack me behind my head, push me off her hard even if i was moving, pinches me randomly, gives “joking punches”, has bitten me on my leg and arm before, has slap my leg so hard it left an imprint, and will forcibly sit on you, or pat your arm and if you get mad she yells and says it’s just joke

it’s just really odd ya know? like i don’t get why she does this at all. most of it happens on days where she’s nicer and acting like a good person or buying me things which makes me think it might not be abuse? and just be normal? idk tho none of this seems to happen with my friends and their parents… but i haven’t asked either. maybe it all normal and i’m the dramatic one, she does love fo call me that and she always says she doesn’t lie

I'm glad you know your mum is abusive, nonnie, that's a great first step! And I know when we already know someone is abusive, sometimes it can still be hard to figure out which of their behaviours are part of the abuse and which are normal.

But I think “is this specific behaviour abusive?” isn't the most important question to answer in these cases. It's “is this particular behaviour upsetting me/adding to my trauma?” Because, when you're in an abusive situation, even things your abuser does that aren't necessarily abusive can cause you a lot of trauma, and maybe other things that sound worse when you say them out loud don't affect you as much. When someone is abusive, anything and everything they say and do can be traumatising from the victim's perspective; and you deserve to take seriously and to heal from everything that adds to your trauma, regardless of whether it would be considered "part of the abuse" in a vacuum.

With that being said, no, the things you've shared here are in no way normal parent behaviours. Just because she says you're dramatic and she never lies, it doesn't mean she's telling the truth. No one "never lies". And claiming to never lie, to never be wrong, or to never be to blame for anything is a huge red flag of abusive beliefs, and more often than not goes hand in hand with abusive behaviours including abusers claiming we (the victims) are terrible people, dramatic, trying to hurt them, etc., which can make us feel guilty and wrong for being affected by their abuse and also question and punish ourselves for our own trauma reactions.

Her constantly flipping out when you so much as bump into her accidentally doesn't sound “not too bad” to me, nonnie—that sounds really, really abusive. I can assure you non-abusive parents don't become verbally violent over any minor thing that inconveniences them, and, in fact, don't become verbally violent at all, for any reason. They might raise their voice if they're frustrated, like anyone else, but they certainly don't make you terrified of accidentally touching them when you're existing around them at home. They don't make you walk on eggshells around them never knowing when they're going to explode on you.

As for everything else, smacking, pushing, pinching and punching, biting, forcibly sitting on you... All these things are physically abusive behaviours, no matter how much she plays them off as jokes. And the fact she yells at you when you get upset by these behaviours is a huge, huge red flag of emotional abuse as well, because she's essentially punishing you for trying to express your bodily boundaries and for being affected by the way she treats you.

I'm really sorry it feels like it can't be abuse because she also does good things for you on those days. I've talked about this before, but abusers doing good or attentive things for you not only doesn't cancel out their abuse, but it can also be a part of the abuse itself. Because, often times, abusers will feed you a steady diet of cruel/violent/hurtful behaviours and loving behaviours to make you question your own perception or even your sanity, and to make you feel guilty for having negative emotions toward them or wanting to leave them, because “look at everything they've done for you!”

The truth is, the fact that you're questioning whether her behaviour is abusive or not just because she also does good things on those days is proof that it is indeed abusive. Because people who don't go through abuse don't have to wonder if someone's good behaviour towards them cancels out everything bad they do at the same time. They've never been abused into questioning themselves and beating themselves up when they feel hurt by someone else's behaviour.

Sending a virtual hug ❤️

[thekytchensynk]

Business Lunch (Fictober Prompt 15)

Prompt number: 15

Fanfiction Fandom: Ducktales

Rating: G

Warnings: No warnings

Read this story on AO3

The letter had arrived without a return address, which had set off some warning bells for Fenton and ALL of the warning bells for his mother.

"What is this?" She gestured to it. "What sort of fool thinks we'd-" She trailed off as Fenton just opened it the way he would any other piece of junk mail, giving him a look of disbelief mixed with anxiety that, once upon a time, would have meant he was grounded, big-time.

"No one would send me a bomb or something through the mail," he argued.

But it didn’t turn out to be either junk mail or some sort of booby trap. It was, instead, a letter inviting Fenton to a “lunch meeting to discuss a potential scientific opportunity.” It didn’t even use a name, just starting “To the lucky resident” instead.

His mother’s eyes further narrowed. She didn’t even need to say anything -- he knew the contents made her even more suspicious. And to be fair, Fenton couldn’t blame her. To a detective, this had to look like step one in either a scam or crime.

But he’d already decided to check it out. The “meeting” was to be held at a fairly popular cafe called Serene Subsistence, so the chances of someone trying something were low. And if the person knew where he lived, they also probably knew he was Gizmoduck -- he wasn’t sure anyone in the neighborhood didn’t. So if they did try something, he had ways to handle the trouble.

So the next day, Fenton made his way to the cafe. Since it was a nice spring day and since the letter hadn’t specified any particular seating arrangements, he chose to sit at a small outdoor table in front of the place, shaded by a blue-striped umbrella and looking through the minimalistic menu.

Fenton hadn’t eaten at Serene Subsistence before, and now that he’d arrived, he sort of understood why. His instincts must have seen something in the decor, or in the sign design, and warned him off. Instead of describing the various options, the menu gave each one just a picture, a name -- something like “the Green Continent” or “the October Surprise” -- and a small list of icons to indicate whether the meal was low-salt, low-fat, gluten-free, all-organic or a host of other things. Huge swaths of white space surrounded each entry.

“You’d think they could put a few lists of ingredients,” Fenton mused out loud, squinting at the menu as though that might reveal hitherto unseen text.

“Awww. come on, where’s the fun in that?”

“You.” The word was out of his mouth before he could stop it, disgusted and angry and very out of place in this hip cafe. If that hadn’t drawn people’s attention, the way the glassware and silverware rattled as he slammed the menu to the tabletop would have.

Mark Beaks waved a hand at him dismissively as he pulled up the selfie camera on his phone and snapped a picture of himself in front of the table. “Come on, calm down, we’re not here to fight. We’re here to talk business.”

“I wouldn’t be here if I’d known I’d be talking business with you,” Fenton said, enunciating hard to prevent his full anger from leaking through.

Beaks grinned at him as though he were a kid who just got his times tables right. “Of course. That’s why I didn’t put my name on it. Uh-duh.” He pulled one of the other chairs at the table out and plopped into it without looking, eyes already back on the phone. “So, yeah, thanks for not looking into that too much, I would have felt really stupid if I get here and you hadn’t shown up.”

Fenton would have loved to have done that. He would have loved to be anywhere but here. Just showing up had given this arrogant tech addict a win, and this guy liked nothing better than wins. Which left him which the difficult task of trying to decide if leaving or staying would give this guy another win.

Or, which would be better for him. After all … what did Beaks want? Why would he be here? If he was plotting something, odds were good that just letting him talk would get it out into the air. Would that be worth dealing with a bit of Beaks to find that out? Maybe stop something before it started?

With a sigh that couldn’t even contain all of the disappointment he felt at doing this, Fenton sat back down. “All right,” he said. “What do you want?”

“Simple. I’m headhunting.”

For a brief moment -- blame too many supervillains -- Fenton thought he was talking like … literal headhunting. Like decapitating people. Luckily, before he could let his reaction to that get onto his face, the clinical part of his mind reminded him that this was a business meeting, and that in business parlance, headhunting had a whole other meaning.

“So, what, are you checking someone’s references?” Fenton asked, trying not-terribly-hard to cut the venom out of his voice. “Looking for recommendations? People who might be willing to build a body-bulking villain serum to-” His mind put two and two together and came up with an answer he did not like.”Are you trying to hire Dr. Gearloose away? Because whatever his reputation, he’s very loyal to the-”

“Gear wha?” Beaks finally looked up from his phone again, and he looked and sounded so puzzled that Fenton felt sure it had to be real. Any skill Beaks had at deception didn’t really center on fooling others with an act so much as just ignoring most people so you never had to worry about fooling them.

Despite that Dr. Gearloose not being the target was good news, Fenton found himself somewhat insulted on his mentor’s behalf. “He’s one of the greatest scientific minds on the planet,” Fenton said. “But you’d never get him away from his lab.”

“Ohhhhh! The guy whose stuff always goes evil!” Beaks said, looking pleased at having worked this out. “Yeah, no. Not interested. Scrooge can keep that stuff. Not good for the Waddle image when things suddenly go all…” He finished the thought by curling one hand into a claw-like shape and making a rasping sound that Fenton assumed was meant to personify “evil.”

But if he really, honestly didn’t care about Dr. Gearloose … “So why are you here?”

“For you-” something about the way he said it made Fenton think there was initially meant to be another word there -- his name probably. But Beaks had probably forgotten it. It was certainly on brand. “I said it in the letter, right?”

“The letter was vague,” Fenton pointed out. “And it’s not like the two of us are exactly on good terms.”

Again Beaks wave a hand, as though dismissing the entirely valid criticism out of hand. “Past is past,” he said. “Just let it go. I want to offer you a spot at my company and I don’t want any misunderstandings to get in the way of that.”

“Misunderstandings?” Fenton’s voice rose again, drawing more stares. Forcing his tone back to an annoyed murmur, he added, “Like when you put countless lives in danger just for your … your click count?”

“Clicks? What, no,” Beaks said, seeming scandalized. But Fenton counted in his head. Three. Two. One. “It’s likes, man. Engagement is key. Clicks. Who even clicks on something anymore…”

“Whatever,” Fenton said.

“But yeah, I meant misunderstandings like that,” Beaks added, almost as an afterthought. “We just need to move past that and see if we can come to a beneficial arrangement.”

The absolute nerve of this guy. “Listen,” he said, and this time it really was a bare whisper. “The suit will never go anywhere near you or your-”

“Wait, wait wait.” Beaks interrupted, shaking his head. “Not that. You. I got to hear some of what you showed off to Dee on that infiltration mission, some seriously interesting stuff in there. We could use someone with that sort of brainpower in our labs.”

That brought him up short. Him? The offer still wasn’t tempting, but that one reveal had changed the entire perception of their conversation. This was about him? About science?

And also about the info he learned from spying on what you thought was a date, the logical part of him mind reminded him unhelpfully.

“You want me to … invent things? For Waddle?” Fenton repeated, just to make sure. This felt wrong, like a trap. It seemed like something that might actually be part of a real business, not the sham that Beaks seemed to run.

Beaks was back on the phone again, and Fenton would have assumed he’d checked out entirely if he didn’t keep on answering questions and comments. “Well, yeah,” he said. “The awesome Waddle devices that trendy young influencers just have to have don’t invent themselves, you know. Slap our name and logo on them and boom! Instant must-have gear. Something for the shareholders to talk about. I gotta prove I can still bring in the cool -- and the cash, too.”

Ah. “So anything that the people in your lab, you take credit for?”

“Duh.” Beaks looked across the table at him, and for the first time in this entire conversion, it felt like he was actually being serious. “People don’t just want the goods, they want to feel like they’re buying into something larger than life. If I sold our phones under some other random name with a stodgy old buzzard as the CEO, you know what sort of market share that would get? None. Because people don’t just want a phone, they want a phone from me. It’s the same reason people react so strongly to you when the cops could usually do the exact same thing. Because they weren’t just saved, they were saved by a hero.”

He hadn’t thought about it that way before, and now, he sort of wished he never had. A hero? His mother was a hero. She’d saved as many people as he, probably more, and she also did the things needed to bring them to trial, to let justice do its work. All he could really do was stop what was right in front of him. Maybe Beaks was right about how it worked in business. But that was maybe the best reason of all to just stop listening to the idiocy that came out of his mouth. All it did was validate Beaks’ own sense of importance.

He stood. Started to leave. “Thanks, but I’ve got to go.”

A chair scraped. “Hey!” Beaks’ indignant voice followed him.

He felt the hand on his shoulder, trying to tighten with some degree of command or control, but it felt laughable. Weak. And then Beaks said, “Hey, amigo, hold on, tell me what the problem is. We can work something out.”

Whirling, Fenton said, “If I was interested, what would the starting pay be?”

Except he said it in Spanish. Not as fluid as his mother’s but still far more dancing than that one thudding word when Beaks has uttered it.

He expected the confusion -- the tech CEO wasn’t fooling anyone into thinking he could actually speak another language. But he got the other thing he expected to see almost immediately. The narrowing of the eyes. The darkening of the expression, as anger took the edge off Beaks’ carefree attitude. He’d been asked a question, he didn’t understand the question, and he thought not being able to answer it made him look foolish. That more than anything else told him all he needed to know.

“All right. Not interested, thank you.”

He didn’t even wait around to see if Beaks reacted to that. He just walked away.

[nethandrake]

those nights.

tonyjan. marvel 616. rated t. non-canon compliant. 2.2k words.

also on ao3.

*****

Parties have always been one of Jan’s favorite events to attend. This one in particular, however, unsettles her.

Don’t get her wrong, she adores Steve Rogers. Even at his worst, at his most stubborn and self-righteous, there’ll be a part of her who unconditionally loves that stupid, stupid man.

But it’s hard for her to watch him around Tony, to take in the look of stark adoration on Steve’s face. Harder even to realize they've slipped away to the balcony to be alone, slipped away from Steve's birthday party.

It doesn’t make sense to Jan. Steve should be inside, cozying up to his girlfriend. He should be here, trading jokes with Sam. He should be here, standing by the punch bowl to make sure no one spiked the punch.

And yet, there he is, making googly eyes at her boyfriend.

Jan takes a sip from her mocktail and wonders if this is how it feels to be Sharon Carter.

It had been a miracle when Tony agreed to rekindle their romance, the one she had ended all those years ago. A part of her does regret breaking up with Tony then. She won’t deny that Tony was an asshole for dating her while keeping his identity as Iron Man from her. But she missed the crinkle around his eyes whenever he shoots those startling blues, missed the way he’d throw his head back and laugh like she made the best joke ever, missed him.

Being with Tony was, is, different than being with Hank, Alex, or even Paladin. Being with those men was great. Fun. Oddly enough, dating Tony is easier and safer, but no less thrilling and fun. Tony has been by her side since they were kids. He was one of the few people who kept her sane when high society got the best of her. He was the one she could be herself around with, to kick her feet up and just be Jan and not the Wasp or a van Dyne.

With Tony, she didn’t need to compete with anyone. She’s his and only his.

Until now, that is.

She doesn’t know how it’s only hit her. Steve and Tony have been doing this dance for over a decade now. It’s no secret to everyone in the superhero community that Steve and Tony are hopelessly in love with each other. Idiots who haven’t acted on their feelings from the moment they met, who decided that dating other people is for the best.

Jan’s stomach plummets at that thought.

Is that all their relationship is to Tony? A way to forget? Did he choose to date her just because Steve’s with Sharon? Is this some twisted—

She pushes that thought away before her brain could finish it for her.

Tony wouldn’t do that. Tony’s a man who lets his love for people consume him until there’s nothing left but skin and bones. Tony has let so many people into his heart, only for them to trounce all over it. He has to have genuine feelings for Jan. He has to.

Well, she thinks, a little hysterically, at least I don’t look like Steve. Been there, done that, and never again.

She pushes the stray lock of hair from her eyes and is about to turn on her heel when a voice stops her in her tracks.

“They’re at it again, huh.”

Jan shrugs her shoulders, not bothering to face the speaker. She could recognize that voice anywhere. “I think everyone sees it but them.”

Next to her, Sharon lets out a quiet snort. “Ain’t that the truth.”

Outside, Tony throws his head back in laughter. Steve’s grin broadens so widely that Jan’s surprised it hasn’t split his face in half yet.

For a long moment, Jan can’t tear her gaze away from the sight. It’s like being in a speeding car with no brakes, destined to crash and go up in flames. She wonders if that’s how their relationship is going to end – in flames.

God, she hopes not. She really hopes not.

Somehow her gaze has flickered over to Sharon. Surprise washes over her as she takes in how unbothered Sharon seems to be at the open affection between the men. It’s a big contrast to all those countless instances before. She’s seen the subtle discomfort and jealousy behind Sharon’s eyes whenever Steve went overboard with waxing poetic over Tony or at the way Steve lights up when Tony walks into the room.

Jan hates how she's in Sharon's shoes now.

“How do you stand it?” she says, startled at how quiet her voice is to her ears

At first, she doesn’t think Sharon heard her, given the boisterous chatter around them. But then Sharon purses her lips and taps a manicured finger against her solo cup.

“It wasn’t easy at first, seeing him half in love with someone who isn’t me. And sometimes it still isn’t.”

“But?”

Sharon tilts her head to the side. “But I just try to tell myself that I’m the one Steve comes home to. That some people can love more than one person. That his love for Tony doesn’t lessen his love for me.”

Jan gnaws at her lip. Names and images of the women Tony flash through her mind. “I don’t think I could do that,” she admits. “Share him.”

“Well, it’s a good thing they haven’t done anything about it, then.” Sharon pauses. “Look, I know Tony can be shit at communicating, but really, you have nothing to worry about. I’ve seen the way he looks at you, heard the way he speaks about you. He loves you. Really loves you. Seriously, take it from someone who’s dating a guy who’s also shit at communication.”

Tony’s rolling his eyes, elbowing Steve playfully. Steve returns the gesture with a light shove, his grin still plastered on his face.

“I know he does,” Jan says. “It’s just that sometimes I…” She exhales. “It’s hard. Sometimes.”

Sharon nods, humming before flashing Jan an empathic smile. “Yeah, I know the feeling.” She drains the last of her drink, sighing. “C’mon, let’s go and drown our insecurities in food. Jess brought some donuts from the bakery near her apartment and apparently, they’re to die for.”

The rest of the party passes in a blur. Jan does what she always does at parties – talk, laugh, catch up with everyone. And it’s nice, really, seeing and speaking all her superhero friends in a more relaxed setting.

And yet, there’s still that part at the back of her head, whispering. Nudging. Persuading.

“Hey,” Tony says, sidling up to Jan when Carol’s whisked away from her side. “You’ve been pretty quiet the whole night. Something up?”

Jan musters the best smile she can, cursing mentally for Tony’s perceptiveness. “It’s nothing. I’m just tired.”

Tony’s eyebrows knit together but fortunately, he doesn’t push for answers. “C’mon, let’s get out of here then. I’ll drop you off at your place.”

“But Steve—”

“Steve will understand.”

Will he though?

Steve has always been a terrible liar, always wearing his heart on his sleeve (which Jan supposes is what makes him a great Captain America). Even when he walks Tony and Jan to the door, grinning warmly as he thanks them and bids them goodbye, she can see the shuttered look behind his eyes.

The immature part of her preens at that.

Sharon might have a point. As transparent as Tony is of his affections for Steve, Jan’s the one he’s going on dates with. Jan’s the one he chooses to kiss and make love to. Jan’s the one he calls up to talk about everything and nothing with.

Jan’s the one he’s been in a relationship with for months now.

And yet, Jan can’t help the self-doubt clawing in her head, desperate to consume her.

“I love you,” she says when they settle inside Tony’s car.

Tony glances her way, a soft smile gracing his lips. She wonders if this smile is the same smile he gives Steve. She hopes so.

“I love you too.”

She’s heard this admission one, two, many times before. And yet, it doesn’t stop her heart from skipping at the warmth and the gentleness in his tone.

This time, however, it doesn’t settle the flare of jealousy and insecurity brimming inside of her. And since she can’t help herself, she lets it boil over.

“You love Steve too.”

Tony stills, the smile slipping off her face.

Jan swallows, her eyes trained on her hands in her lap, bracing herself. “I see the way you look at him, the way he looks at you. You’ve been pining for each other for years and if you—”

“He has Sharon now,” he answers flatly.

“Still. Doesn’t change the fact that he loves you.”

He frowns. “Where are you going with this?”

There’s an edge to his tone, one that tells her that she’s fucked up.

Maybe this is it. Maybe this is when Tony finally realizes that Steve’s his true love, when Tony throws the car door open and runs to be with the one he’s meant to be with, when Tony decides that their second chance was a mistake.

She should’ve kept him all those years ago. God, she really should’ve. She should’ve—

“Babe, I need you to—” Calloused fingers brush under her chin, Tony tentatively brushing it with his thumb. “Hey, look at me.”

With a sharp intake of breath, she steels herself and does what he says.

Tony’s jaw is tight and his bright blue eyes are aflame, like he has something to prove. It’s a reasonable reaction, expected even. But then she gives him another look and sees everything else – the softness behind the fire, the ghosted touch against her skin, the light blush tinting his cheeks.

“There’s always be a part of me who loves Steve. No matter what. I don’t think I can deny that part of my anymore. But— Hey, babe. Listen. Look at me.”

Again, she does so and freezes because god, his eyes are so blue.

The nerves behind Tony’s smile eases a little as he continues to worry her chin with his thumb. “Sure, I love Steve. I won’t deny— Hey, look at me. But he’s not the one I’m in love with, the one I picture myself spending the rest of my life with. You’re the one I’m in love with. You’re the one I want to live the rest of my life with.”

Just like that, all the air in Jan’s lungs dissipates. “Tony—”

Tony smiles. “It’s the truth. Honest truth. You make me feel whole. You make me happier than I’ve ever been in a long time. Hell, I don’t think I’ve felt this happy. Ever. Being with you makes me so fucking happy. I love you. You’re everything good in this world.”

“But Steve—”

“Steve is nothing compared to you.”

That earnest and genuine admission alone is what pushes her into action, sealing her lips with his. As always, his lips are soft and pliant, tasting of coffee and promises. His fingers trail upwards, his palm resting against her cheek as he returns the gesture with the most warmth and affection she’s ever experienced.

He loves her. Fuck, he loves her.

She’s totally taking Sharon to her personal tailor after this.

“Wow,” Jan breathes when they break apart, her cheeks warm and her heart in her throat. “Imagine calling Captain America a nothing. You better hope no one’s listening to this conversation because let me tell you, you’re screwed otherwise.”

Tony grins, a hint of mischief behind his eyes. “Anything for you, Miss van Dyne.” His smile fades, leaning back into his seat. “But really, if anyone that should be—”

She shakes her head, reaching over to give his calloused palm a reassuring squeeze. “Tony, no. There’s no deserving here. You are enough for me. You make me happy, happier than I’ve ever felt in a long time. I love you too.”

Hope flashes behind his eyes. “Yeah?”

Jan nods, her own stinging. “Yeah.”

The smile she gets in return is both warm and heart-wrenching.

Jan hates seeing Tony like this, hates the demons and self-loathing plaguing him. She knows it’s why he never tried making a move on Steve all these years.

Obviously, it’s all bullshit, but it’s something they need to revisit soon. That and her own insecurities too. In fact, they definitely need to talk a lot of things out.

Not tonight though. Tonight, all she wants to do is curl up next to Tony on the couch, ridicule the shitty soap operas on-screen and later fall asleep in each other’s arms. And judging by Tony’s expression, he seems to feel the same.

“Hey,” she begins, “you mind if I crash at your place tonight? It’s kinda late and your place is nearer—”

Tony’s lips tug to the side, cocking an eyebrow. “Janet van Dyne, are you propositioning me?”

Jan smirks. “And what if I am?”

His other eyebrow arches. “Nadia isn’t expecting you, is she? ‘Cause as much as I’d love to have you over, I would like to be alive to, you know, date you.”

Jan laughs, snaking her arm around his. “As long as you bring me back to her in one piece, she’ll be fine.”

Tony chuckles as the car roars to life. “Well then. She has nothing to worry about.”

[megmaxino]

PLAYING AGAIN | Insights: The Winnie-the-Pooh Books & The Christopher Robin Film

Hello!, I’m Meg :)

This past week, I decided to try and play again with Winnie-the-Pooh, Piglet, Tigger, Eeyore, Kanga and Roo, Rabbit, Owl, and - of course - Christopher Robin. 

The Winnie-the-Pooh Books

Basic Info 

The Winnie-the-Pooh books were written by A.A. Milne and illustrated by E.H. Shepard. The first book was published back in 1926 on the 14 October through Methuen & Co. Ltd. A.A. Milne merely shared with us this world created by his son, Christopher Robin Milne. Although, Owl and Rabbit were not part of the original gang Christopher played with when he was a young boy. I’m not going to go into the whole history of this and the family because I haven’t fully read into the original sources. But here are a few people that probably know what they’re talking about. 

Thoughts On the Books

Considering that they are children’s books, it doesn’t take much time to read them, but it does take more time to fully enjoy them. What do I mean by that? When reading a book so open to imagination such as children’s books, at least for me, I feel that you find yourself taking the time to read slowly and attempt to fully immerse yourself in the text. It isn’t heavily loaded with descriptions because, I suppose, children are meant to freely make it theirs. It’s like how every individual has their own perception of who to them is God or what to them is Heaven.

Hold on, I want to reference a completely separate film that has nothing to do with the Winnie-the-Pooh universe - as far as I know. In Vincent Ward’s What Dreams May Come, a character named Albert points out that 

“‘Here’ is big enough for everyone to have their own private universe.”

I think children’s books, the Winnie-the-Pooh books in particular give you the freedom to do that quite well. I must confess, I didn’t read the books as a child. But even as a 20-year-old girl today, I did enjoy the books. But something was missing… It wasn’t real enough.  

The Film: Christopher Robin

Basic Info

Disney’s Christopher Robin, directed by Marc Forster, premiered in 2018. It stars Ewan McGregor as grown-up Christopher Robin, Hayley Atwell as wife Evelyn Robin, and Bronte Carmichael as daughter Madeline Robin. Jim Cummings voices both Pooh and Tigger, Brad Garrett as Eeyore, and Nick Mohammad as Piglet.

Although young Christopher Robin (acted by Orton O'Brien) definitely knew how to play, grown-up Christopher has forgotten how to. Back when they were younger he was the one saving Pooh and his friends, but now it was time for them to save him. 

Thoughts On the Film

When I previously said how the books weren’t real enough for me, this film definitely helped fill that void. It isn’t a retelling of the stories in them, no, it is an extension of them and makes them real. 

The film itself runs for 1hr and 44mins, so it doesn’t take up much of your time as well… But, I think that’s up to how much it is able to engulf you. I am the type of person who, you could say, gets distracted easily. I tend to take notice of small things that don’t really matter and obsess over them. Something is always buzzing up in my head, so I appreciate it when a film or show is able to truly bring me someplace else without me having to try. The film Christopher Robin, I’m happy to say, is able to do that. I found myself bawling for most of it, thinking about what it must feel like to be so lucky as Christopher that his private universe is real. Everything you’d think that is made up is all real. Just to have that place where you can run off to and just… be and do nothing.

As it is said by Pooh and Christopher, 

“Doing nothing often leads to the very best of something.”

I am grateful for films like this that are able to create something real for you. Yes, there are no full descriptions and explanations for how things work in the world it’s trying to put out for you- But, that’s just it! For me, it’s relieving to not have to worry about piecing together bits of information written out and to be able to just have it… be right in front of you. Yes, there isn’t much room for you to make up and add things, - imagination - but they do make up for it by doing their best to make it real. They very carefully and lovingly piece together everything for you; the people acting for you, the composition, production design, lighting and color, costume, hair and makeup, texture, sound - Mise-En-Scène! All these things come together to make something surreal real for you. It’s as if that world is now your life, even just for that 1hr and 44mins. 

Playing Again

Something we can really learn from the film is to play again. Oftentimes, we take ourselves so seriously, thinking that it’s just the way life has to go in order to make our dreams a reality. We often are so busy chasing after our dreams that we forget that now can be a dream too. 

“Your life is happening right now in front of you.”

Evelyn says this to Christopher when discussing why he can’t go out to the cottage with them. 

I think this film does a very good job of reminding us that it is okay to play and be happy, even when things aren’t exactly perfect yet - whatever perfect means. Eeyore, Winnie-the-Pooh, Piglet, and Tigger are here telling us to go and play again. 

[auburnflight]

Why Rinkah is amazing and underappreciated:

Rinkah is such a wonderfully complex character, and I appreciate that. In terms of both appearance and personality, she creates a very strong, particular first impression, as a “hardened warrior” and as the sole representative of the Flame Tribe among the game’s major characters. The other characters and the game itself often view her through these two lenses, but I find it intriguing to delve into just how many layers are beneath that impression.

Keeping others at a distance by default and being cautious about the connections she forms, when she’s from a small, highly individual tribe that has also suffered marked breaches of trust in the past, makes sense. As she describes in her supports with Corrin, it tends to be outsiders who extinguish the eternal flame that her tribe keeps burning; sometimes these outsiders do so out of malice, and sometimes out of simple insensitivity. This policy of keeping outsiders at a distance is often described in dialogue as a “law,” but other times as more of a “guideline.” And indeed, Rinkah seems to understand it (even if not on a conscious level) as a way of framing one’s thinking, rather than an absolute to which one should adhere. She is described on the surface as “aloof,” but I think it’s more complicated than that: more that she dedicates her entire heart and being to whatever she does, wherever she decides to be, and she demands that same level of respect and seriousness from others.

Clearly, Rinkah has a very strong sense of self. And she invests a lot into whatever pursuits she’s focusing on, and into herself as a person. Whether it’s food (as in her conversations with Hayato), free time (in the overworld and one-on-one interactions), or other people (in her supports with Saizo), she doesn’t like wasting; once she decides something is important to her, she strives to treat it with the utmost value. As a result, she isn’t interested in idle chatter or superficial connections. Perhaps this is one reason that she is so cautious of Corrin at first, in spite of owing them a debt: the Nohrian noble has apparently earned a widespread reputation for being naive, and Rinkah reads their initial attempt at conversation accordingly. Maybe this means in some cases, she’s predisposed to forming preconceptions about other people, which may or may not prove true later. But part of this is also holding others to the same high standards to which she holds herself: she naturally invests considerable energy in wherever she decides to focus, and she wants to make sure this energy won’t go to waste on someone who is only interested in surface-level interaction, who won’t respect her for entire self.

And perhaps because she aims to be treated accordingly, she may not be comfortable with what she perceives to be her own weaknesses. For instance, her supports with Kaze reveal that she actively hides her sweet tooth, arguing that it’s not something everyone needs to know about, and she responds defensively when he shows concern. Even though her love for sweets isn’t inherently a weakness, she sees it as something that could potentially cause others to treat her differently from how she would prefer (for example, doting on her or seeing her as childish). Kaze points out that she seems focused on maintaining false appearances. But it’s not necessarily that Rinkah wants to lie to herself or other people. It may be that, opposite of her initial impression, she is actually quite sensitive to others.

Not so much in the sense that she would change who she is based on what others think. And in fact, as we see from supports such as Oboro trying to convince her to eat with utensils instead of her hands, she generally refuses to compromise on who she is just based on others’ ideas, unless they can frame this change as advantageous to her in some way. Rather than letting fear of others’ opinions control her, it’s more that she wants to make sure others understand who she is and how highly she thinks of herself (if this isn’t obvious from her very first instance of dialogue in the game, in chapter 3: “I am Rinkah! Daughter of the Flame Tribe’s honorable Chieftain!”). She sees herself as independent, unafraid and unwavering, and strives for others to have this same impression. She even admits this directly in her parent-child supports with Velouria, who is very physically affectionate: when Rinkah accepts a hug from her daughter Velouria, she says to herself, “I hope no one thinks I’ve gone soft...”

But as proud as she is, Rinkah is not entirely too stubborn to admit her own weaknesses when the situation prompts it. Contrary to her outward feelings about her flaws, for the most part, she demonstrates that she’s actually very good at confronting them. Like anyone else, sometimes she suffers lapses in judgment, acting impatient towards others when they don’t listen to her initial requests to leave her alone, responding quite defensively when others comment on her temper, or being more critical of others’ perspectives than maybe the situation warrants. But given space, she consistently realizes this: she returns to the issue, apologizes, understands others’ perspectives, and seeks to set things right. 

Therefore, her sensitivity also comes in the form of being an active listener and an excellent communicator. Exactly because she holds herself in such high regard, she knows when her actions are inconsistent with who she is. She knows when she needs to speak with others about overstepping boundaries, whether her own or someone else’s. And even if it means momentarily swallowing her pride, she uses her mistakes as opportunities for growth wherever possible. 

And I think that’s one of the most respectable things about her. She doesn’t let her strong ideas about herself keep her from growing--if anything, this only furthers her desire to constantly improve, to meet and expand her own expectations of herself. She’s painfully aware of her temper as one of her most immutable weaknesses, but even so, she’s able to obtain the skills to better grapple with it when, in their supports, Ryoma begins to teach her the art of meditation. Such developments occur not only emotionally, but in her physical self as well. Her support conversations (for example, with Hinata and Kagero) often detail her acutely picking up new ideas and fighting techniques from her allies.

How does this all interact with the values of her tribe that she so persistently upholds? The Flame Tribe is said to particularly value their individual identity and independence, and therefore to interact with outsiders as little as possible. But as one finds fulfillment and meaning in forming bonds with others, and as by nature it would be near impossible to participate in the war effort alone, does this mean that Rinkah’s involvement with her allies beyond what is necessary to fight is in opposition to her tribe’s policies? Not necessarily. Rinkah explains in her supports with Keaton that to the Flame Tribe, to be independent means “We are committed to walking our own path, despite what others say or do. We do not compromise, we do not beg for aid, and we do not sell our loyalty.” And thus, the ways in which she so rigidly maintains her sense of self in her interactions with the other characters closely follows these ideas. It’s not about refusing to interact with others or even preferring to be alone; it’s about knowing, at one’s core, who one feels they are as a person, and not going against that core sense of self for the sake of others. 

So I would venture that one of Rinkah’s primary motivations is creating a space where she can uphold that sense of self. This may also be why she potentially reads as closed-off and unwilling to show vulnerability: she places enormous importance on maintaining her own space, both physically and mentally. She does open up to others, given the trust that they will take her just as seriously as she takes herself and them, and given the space to make her own decision to do so. Going back to her conversations with Kaze, in their later supports, she is happy to eat the sweets he offers if left by herself in peace. (Kaze’s decision to go along with her blaming her obvious hunger on an imaginary “mouse,” by simultaneously taking Rinkah’s words seriously and finding an avenue to get her to her to listen to him, is very perceptive.) I think this is also the reason that being imprisoned in the prologue is one of the most significant challenges Rinkah could possibly face in her character arc: all of her power and freedom to make decisions for herself is taken away, no less as a result of obeying her father’s orders to join Hoshido’s war effort--something she had her own reservations about to begin with, and went along with anyway.

Kaze is also highly perceptive in realizing that Rinkah is concerned in keeping up an appearance of being independent and perhaps difficult to approach--though as I’ve already summarized, I would argue this is more just the facet that she wishes to show of herself foremost than it is entirely “false.” Though it’s only a subtle part of her initial read, there is kindness, even gentleness, in her greetings to Corrin as they travel around the castle, in the phrases that she uses when supporting other characters in battle (“No need to be afraid”), and in her concern for others’ safety (which is what starts off her supports with Subaki). And this kindness grows to be a more visible part of her mannerisms as she builds trust and grows closer to others. She’s more comfortable making light banter with the other characters, like Charlotte and Kaden, in their later supports. She goes from using the somewhat rough-mannered third-person pronoun omae to calling Corrin by their name. And if the player marries her and Corrin together, it’s clear that she speaks and uses other qualities of her voice in a completely different manner with someone she’s very close to: she speaks in a somewhat higher pitch, in contrast to the low-toned, sometimes almost growling voice that she favors in other contexts. Clearly, it’s not that she cares little for other people, as her outward demeanor might suggest to those who aren’t familiar with her. It’s that she’s very intentional about to where and to whom she dedicates her energy and trust. Realizing that some people may pose a danger to her tribe and that keeping her distance is one of their policies is a part, but not the only aspect, of this. 

(I think this makes her an interesting contrast to Corrin, who is freely kind to everyone; because of this trait, others fear that Corrin is far easier to manipulate or take advantage of. Corrin’s kindness is related to their sense of self in a very different way from how it is related to Rinkah’s.)

Clearly, Rinkah has a very impactful initial read as a character, yet she is also highly nuanced, and her psychology as a character certainly facilitates deeper exploration. I feel this complexity is particularly apparent in contrast to many characters in Awakening or even some others in Fates, who have distinctive quirks but can sometimes fall short of being developed further as characters beyond that initial read. (I delve more into why this might be the case in another piece linked to in the “source” section of this post.) Could she read as short-tempered, stubborn, and hard to approach? Of course. But she can also be seen as passionate, loyal, perhaps surprisingly sensitive, and dedicated wholly to maintaining her sense of rightness and her sense of self. She’s a formidable warrior with, like any other well-executed and likable character, her own moments of vulnerability and internal conflict, even if she doesn’t always readily allow them to surface.

[neon-fruitmonger]

Sometimes grown-ass women need to cry like babies & that’s okay, we should let them.

The last five years of my life wrote a joyless love letter to my career. We uprooted ourselves in search of the overarching narrative. We sold our home for ink. We clawed our way out from under the discarded drafts. We almost didn’t survive it.

I spent the time mining the coals of my anxiety; raining arrows on the army of my self-doubt; whittling my thorny predisposition into something lovable. I don’t know that there’s much glory to be found in such a romance; late-stage capitalism doesn’t kiss back.

But my work sings to me. It harmonizes like tangible progress. It’s the only “place” I’ve felt like I belonged. Unfortunately, it’s also a gaslighting abuser that’s made parts of me unrecognizably rotten to my own eyes. 

If you parked me in front of a lineup & asked me to identify the final straw, I don’t know that I could. The pandemic -- the quarantine -- has been challenging for us all, and a healthy slab of my mounting despair can be chalked up to simple grief. I miss my life as I knew it. The new normal is difficult, so beholden am I to routine.

The reality of my unrequited love hit me hard this week, as I struggled through another performative self-evaluation exercise: I’ve spent five years waking up, only to fall on my sword each day. It’s only gotten worse in isolation.

Everyone wants glory without the accountability. I watch people try to play me every day, never fully certain whether they underestimate my intelligence or overestimate their craftiness. I’ve been lugging five years’ worth of other people’s risks around my neck. A war is raging, but I’m the only one who seems to be fighting. When is doing the right thing no longer a compelling argument in the court of one’s self-perception? 

Sleep eludes me. I rise at dawn each day, even absent my usual commute, & press myself to exercise, a wholly unnatural act in my personal playbook. My body rebels against the ritual; the soles of my feet are callused & blood-blistered, my back is tight & aching, my knees are sore. I should rest, but there is no rest to be had. Everyone gets left on “read,” these days. Some friendships may have died & I’ll only know it when I remember to look for remains. I wonder if I’ve ever really been myself around anyone; whether they’d like me if they knew who I was.

But then I remember how fucking sneaky depression is, an unchallenged marauder in an endless night. I arrive at the bargaining stages of grief. I’ll be a better friend when this is all done, I say to no one in particular. I won’t walk through life with my father’s regrets. I vow to honor the things I love outside of my job. Who knows if I even mean it.

I’m really, really tired. Of fighting to be taken seriously. Of stockpiling political capital & looking to would-be mentors as pawns in a game I didn’t ask to play. Of giving & taking. Of losing touch with the people I love. Of losing touch with who I’ve always been. I’m sapped of all of my energy; I doled it out like it was limitless & damn if I have a clue how to get it back.

There are bright spots, I tell myself, and it isn’t a lie. The fruits of my labor were anything but low-hanging; nevertheless, the efforts mattered. I made the case for ethics & fairness in the face of obvious bias. I gave whatever was left of myself to rescuing the discarded cats out on the hiking trail, left like garbage by people who shirked responsibility more egregiously than even my colleagues. I’ve found myself in others’ art. I’ve given myself the gift of vulnerability again.

I need a break, but there’s nowhere to go. I don’t know how to untangle myself from the life I’ve constructed; from the business of being busy. I’ll figure it out -- I always do, well enough to keep going anyway -- but for now, I just need to give voice to the frustration, the resentment, the self-doubt, and the unmitigated sadness that I can’t slot anywhere else. 

I’m a middle-skilled emotional laborer at best, but I know enough to recognize that everyone else is struggling, too. It’s vexing to the natural problem-solver (and mercilessly bossy know-it-all) in me. But I’m trying, trying to recommit myself to the idea that in time, we can all be made whole again.

[all-things-are-nothing-to-me]

Smashing the Petri Dish: Abbreviated Inquiry Into Abandoning the Concept of Culture

The following are questions I have recently asked myself:

Why abandon culture? There are countless reasons to begin to challenge, seriously realign our relationship with, and perhaps abandon the concept of culture — the historic, contemporary, and projected assemblage of social dynamics and features by which we define ourselves and which collectively frame us as social groupings. Culture contains the all-tofamiliar civilized notions of expectations, projections, customs, taboos, values, morality, and rituals, as well as being anthropocentric in nature, and in general, limited as it defines the human condition of a place, time, and context only in terms of human relationships or how we use other things. The human-animal, unrestrained by such an understanding of reality, and in tune with applicable concerns of connected subsistence and curious play, needs not for culture as something to belong to or to be guided by. Instead, they are what they are, a composition of all they are connected to, yet unique unto themselves. And if relationships are fluid, unbounded by artificial concepts, and based on mutual desire, than what use or need is there for culture, except to define and confine these relationships. It might be proposed then, that our search for liberation may fall outside the parameters of the concept of culture, and in fact, may be in contradiction with its very existence. Culture, whether ethnic, religious, national, tribal, pop, alternative, or counter, acts as a definer rather than minimalizer of the borders within and between ourselves, each other, and the rest of life.

Can we challenge the current basis of our relationships to each other? For many, to abandon culture seems a project too daunting, shocking, and counter to what we may have always believed. But when we talk of undoing the entirety of civilization, are there questions too colossal to ask and material too compact to cut through? To dispute culture itself, and the physicality of its politicized manifestation, society, is to question civilization’s very premise, that we are controlled and manipulated by external forces that have an agenda ultimately incompatible with that of the individual, regardless of their desires (although there may be illusory moments of adaptability). Whether there are direct lines drawn to individuals or groups in power, or the rigid formation of patterns and textures over time, culture controls. It must, or it ceases to exist. Culture can be viewed as the summation of who we are as social beings, or the parameters we live within. Both are unsatisfactory for one attempting an uncivilized and unrestrained existence. If we are to live entirely different, than what seems foundational and what binds all of this (civilization) must be unglued. The imprint must be erased. The structures must be shattered, so as to open up the space for our unimpeded wild selves to roam.

Is there an intrinsic element of cultivation that leads to the formation of rigid socialization? The cultivation of crops and tillage of the earth created a different context in which we dwell then that of the human-animal in a pre-civilized context. With the domination of the land, stratification of society, accumulation of power, creation of economy, and religious mystification of the world, culture takes root as an all-encompassing means of control. To put it simply, when there are things to keep in order, an orderly society is preferable. With this comes the standardization of society, the suggestion of values, the implementation of codes, and the enforcement of regulations, be they physical, intellectual, or spiritual. Overt force is always adjacent (at least the allegation of it), but to convince people they are a part of an abstract grouping, and that it is superior to any other, cultural identity is a much more effective means of control. And, to convince them of their need to view contrary or deviant inclinations of the belief system as an Other, also sets the ground for the defending of culture. The abstraction of unmediated relationships might be where we start to see concepts of culture as necessary. Before (or outside this perspective) what purpose would it serve?

What about the process of domestication is inevitable in culture? Development of humans as individuals and societies in general through education, discipline, and training, seems to require obedience to societal norms, recognized largely as cultural. The goal, as with any other form of domestication, is to obtain a uniform and productive crop or yield in as efficient means as possible. Individuality and fluidity are seen as hazards to be reigned in or plowed under. Possibly, depending on how bumper a crop that season, or how much power the domesticator has accumulated, some unruly weeds are allowed to exist on the periphery, but even they are still largely controlled, if only due to the proximity to the disciplined ones.

Are socialization and control implicit in the perpetuation and acceptance of culture? Culture attempts to express and prescribe meaning to our world. This meaning is typically, and I would argue inevitably, used to obtain and maintain power and control. Culture regularly has both a conservative and progressive character to it. Both securing society and pushing it forward stability and innovation. Traditional cultural values which sustain the contemporary aims of a society’s influence and momentum are often supported while the proposed future for that society is often portrayed as intrinsic trajectories for that culture. The tension between them keeps things moving. At any particular stage of advancement in a civilization, the characteristic features of such a stage are described as its culture. So that what is described as permanent, is never so, and that which is promoted as temporary is often an illusion of change. The bottom line is, the path of a society, and the cultural aspects of it, are quite arbitrary, yet presented as predetermined. To not be acquiescent in this set-up places one, for all practical purposes, outside of cultural reality. But the rejection of culture is certainly not a rejection of social interaction. The isolated human, rarely a healthy, connected, and successfully functioning being (by any standards), is typically the product of extreme alienation and trauma. Anti-social behavior, as a specific description, is relative to the context of the society, but it describes more of a disconnect from the ability to interact then a rejection of that society’s values. One can be positively a social being (and possibly they must be) and still attempt to dismantle that society and its social characteristics, especially if their processes of social interaction are from outside that society. As interaction and relations removed from the alienated and mediated civilized methods tend to be more direct, fluid, and intuitive, without the clunky dominating, and often insincere methods we are instilled with, it seems key to any sort of positive alternative.

Ever notice the “cult” in culture? Socially, there is great pressure, from authoritarianism to tension between “civilians”, to create a mindless following that is pervasive throughout society. There develops an affiliation of accomplices who adopt complete and societal belief systems or faiths. Those who move too close to the margins are regarded and handled as outsiders, which strictly maintains the definitions applied to a culture. In addition, the progressive linearity of cultural enlightenment and refinement through intellectual and aesthetic training occurs at all levels, from fashion to philosophy. Details and motivations of our actions that are obtained, recorded, and remembered through vastly different perceptions and bias perspectives, acquired through a cultural context and individual views, are filtered, averaged, and distilled to create a prevalent, repeated response system.

But what about primitive people and useful traditions? There is probably more from the past that we have carelessly discarded than we have critically shed, especially concerning earth-based peoples from gatherer hunters to horticulturists to pre-technological agriculturists and homesteaders (in my opinion, there is less to appreciate as we move onward in domestication, but from where we are located in history, there is still some value in critically assessing small-scale cultivators for some useful aspects). Examining the dynamics and methods of these various types of groupings for everything from food procurement to social organization (not that they aren’t inevitably linked) will reveal a great diversity between peoples and the strategies and patterns that have developed, and typically, unfortunately, formed into a culture. This investigation can also reveal common threads in how situations, needs, and problems are dealt with, which we can filter through our own unique and communal desires and contexts to apply to our lives, without adopting cultural parameters and definitions. Techniques are valuable, cultural explanations are useless, unless they reveal a relationship between things that can be utilized without socializing.

Life contains some underlying stability of circumstance, yet within it is an infinite and intricate shifting, fracturing, and supporting over time. A never-ending improvisation of reinforcing and interfering, but never repeating. Even the seemingly firmly structured parts are composed of limitless variables. We might be inspired by the way the Kaluli tribe of the Papuan Plateau perceive and interact with the world. For instance, they do not hear singular sounds in the rainforest, but instead an interlocking soundscape they call dulugu ganalan, or “lifting- up-over sounding”; millions of simultaneous sound cycles, starting and ending at different points. People’s voices layer and play off of this reality, as drums, axes, and singing blend together in rhythms and patterns creating an instinctual vocabulary understood by the group.

So what might living outside of culture look like? To start with, it would be free from moral and social frameworks that limit our freedom to explore, experience, and connect. We would still be “bound” by certain biological and geographical limitations, but not those determined by any experts or leaders. Instead we would experience directly these limitations, and along with shared experiences with others, develop our own unique understandings. Collective experience would not fit into any prearranged formation or contain any unified meaning. It would be the infinite intersections of support and divergence that make up the rest of what we call life. Rather than thinking in cultural terms, perhaps we can look at other social animals for inspiration. Flocks, herds, and packs can be contemplated for their manifestations and dynamics of living patterns. Instinctual rather than intellectual in motivation and stable yet flexible in an organic manner, rather than enforced or altered through mechanistic and projected means. Is this not closer to how humans live(d) outside of civilization?

Can we smash the petri dish and abandon the stifling concept of culture for an unobstructed reality? If we are content with the role of microorganisms in a prepared nutrient media or the product of such cultivation, then life as part of a culture is acceptable, even desirable and beneficial. If we are not satisfied as bacteria, segments of tissues, or fungi in a scientist’s test tube or observation dish, then we need to begin to seriously review how we relate to, coordinate, and view ourselves, each other, and the world around us. We can trade the abstraction, symbolic, efficiency, control, and completeness of superimposed culture for the connected, direct, dynamic, openness of unalienated existence.

The choice really is ours.