#people really like to spout and expect acceptance and understanding and then refuse to do it for other people

[poopingonthefloor]

Kinda a nice thing to keep in mind, i dont know, a bit of advice:

people have emotions and have feelings that can be affected by what you say!?!?!?!?!?!

[skamenglishsubs]

Subtext and Culture, Young Royals, Season 1, Episode 2

Episode 2 picks up the morning day after the initiation party, the girls are having breakfast lunch at their dorm, the boys at theirs, and everyone wants the juicy details about what happened at the party...

Culture: Tell me more, tell me more, did you get very far? Although, it's pretty funny how the roles are reversed, Maddie is all "meh" about it, while Nils tells a different story. Then again, since when do you get together after a blowjob?

Culture: I actually have no idea why Simon is having breakfast at Skogsbacken, since regular schools only cover lunch for students, everyone eats breakfast at home, and then goes to school. Then again, it allows a scene where (Never mind, they're having lunch, thanks @kamand !) Blink and you miss it: Wilhelm casts some nervous glances at Simon after having been called out for disappearing at the party and almost forced to confess to making out with someone.

Culture: I know Felice is trying to put August down, but don't knock a proper Swedish pizza! As much as I like living in the US, they can't fucking make pizzas here, and the first thing I eat every time I go back to Sweden is always a real pizza. With pineapple and shrimp as God intended pizza to be made!

Culture: August is namedropping ski resorts in the Alps, which is where you go skiing in Europe if you have money, although Saint-Martin-de-Belleville is actually near Val Thorens in France, while Verbier is in Switzerland. It does have a three-star restaurant, though. Sweden and Norway have a couple of decent ski resorts, but the Scandinavian mountain chain is simply not as impressive as the Alps.

Subtext: Remember Wilhelm getting up and hurrying to math class in the beginning of the scene? It was so he could grab the other seat next to Simon, because he knows Simon is gonna sit next to Sara, since no-one else does.

Culture: Formally greeting your teacher before class is very uncommon in Sweden, but since Hillerska is all about discipline and tradition, of course they do it. Note that they're again using the formal Swedish title for male teachers, Magister, which in a regular school would be kind of a joke, since teachers and students are on a first-name basis with each other.

Subtext: Wilhelm is exposing how the world works if you have money. At Simon's old school, studying alone would result in good grades, but Hillerska is slightly corrupt and almost expects the students to essentially pay for getting a good grade.

Subtext: Simon is lying to his teacher, he absolutely hasn't talked to his parents about paying for private lessons.

Subtext: No, Sara absolutely does care about what other people think about her, and when she directly tells Felice that she would actually like some friends, that's when Felice gets it and starts making an effort to become real friends with her.

Culture: They're all bilingual at Simon's home, they're all speaking Spanish and Swedish, although Linda has a very noticeable accent to her Swedish. Based on demographics and statistics, the most likely scenario is that Linda immigrated to Sweden from Chile, met Micke, and started a family. In real life, Omar Rudberg was born in Venezuela and grew up in Sweden, while Carmen Gloria Pérez was born in New York, and grew up in Puerto Rico.

Subtext: Remember how I talked in the intro post about how distant social classes know nothing of each other? Ayub and Rosh are either working class or lower middle class like Simon, and since rowing is a typical upper class sport, they know nothing of it, they don't even think of it as a real sport. Unlike football, which is a proper working class sport, they know all about that!

Subtext: Scandinavia has Jantelagen, and everyone there thinks it's uniquely Scandinavian, but all countries have some form of Tall Poppy Syndrome. In this scene, Simon is starting to make a class journey, he started rowing, he started trying to fit in with the other upper-class kids, and getting into a relationship with someone as upper-class as Wilhelm would definitely move him all the way. But going on a journey means leaving things behind, which is why Rosh and Ayub are cutting him down and literally turning their backs on him. They like it in the small town of Bjärstad, why can't he be happy there too? Why is he betraying his roots?

Subtext: This comment from August nicely foreshadows a later episode when August does something traceable on a School computer...

Subtext: What August means is that he's not sure Wilhelm has the same desire to be accultured into the upper class, to play the part of a proper prince, in the same way that he and Erik have accepted their roles and are even enjoying them.

Culture: Although it's impossible to read the name of the medicine, the paper tag on the bottle indicates that it's some kind of prescription medicine. From the conversation with Vincent, we learn that it's some kind of ADHD medication, probably some kind of Dextroamphetamine since those improve athletic ability and cognitive functions in healthy people.

Culture: Birkenstock sandals are associated with hippies in Sweden as well as in many parts of the world, so August is actually saying that the school counselor isn't really part of the same upper-class society as the rest of the staff. And again, his use of the word sosse drives the point home.

Subtext: Consequently, the counselor sees right through August and refuses to immediately prescribe him the medication that he wants...

Subtext: ...even though August tries to both bribe him and threaten him into giving him the medication he wants.

Subtext: A big theme of this episode is class journeys, and in this scene and a previous exercise scene, August gushes about how good a thing that is, how proud he is of Simon for going on one, and spouts some crap about how everyone can make it if they really want to.

Subtext: Thankfully, Madison says what we're all thinking: August is full of shit, life isn't fair, and they're only at the school because they were born into privilege.

Blink and you miss it: After Wilhelm has nervously texted his crush for the first time, he starts to bite his fingernails, but quickly stops himself, because why would he be nervous? He's just texting another boy about rowing practice, there's nothing more to it!

Subtext: Simon's texting game is on point though, he knows exactly what he should write to get Wilhelm to go on a totally-not-a-date with him.

Subtext: In the same way that August couldn't convince the counselor about being sick, I don't think Wilhelm's atrocious acting here convinces August that he's sick either.

Culture: Public transport in the greater Stockholm area - or wherever we're supposed to be - is of course cash-less, and you pay by either charging a special card, or by signing up in their app and buying tickets through there. The point of this scene though is to drive home how Wilhelm has never ever had to take the bus before in his life, and therefore has no idea how it works.

Culture: The totally-not-a-date starts at a Circle K, which in Sweden is just another gas station, but it is actually a Canadian multi-national convenience store corporation. The price of gas is of course posted in kr/l, and 13.98kr/l corresponds to roughly $6/gal.

Subtext: Throughout the totally-not-a-date, Wilhelm is trying to reach for common ground with Simon, trying to show him how he's just a regular guy...

Subtext: ...but then real life intrudes, Wilhelm is recognized by some local girls, who call out to him and run away giggling, which shows how he's not a regular guy, he's going to get recognized wherever he goes.

Culture: Kokt eller grillat, boiled or grilled, are the two ways you can get your hot-dog at pretty much any hot-dog place in Sweden, and ketchup and mustard is always offered. The correct answer to this question is of course grilled, with ketchup and mustard, and this just shows that Wilhelm is a man of culture and good taste. Unfortunately, they were out grilled ones, so they all got boring soggy boiled hot-dogs instead. Is there a metaphor here? I don't know.

Subtext: Again, the show drives home the point that absolutely no-one has a problem with people being gay. Simon is clearly out to Ayub and the rest of his friends, and Ayub immediately picks up on the fact that this is totally a date.

Blink and you miss it: Ayub nudges Simon with his elbow to tell him that he should make a move on Wilhelm.

Culture: What we're looking at is just the local junior/high school football team, Bjärstad, playing a match against some other unnamed junior football team. Since the stakes are super low, the audience basically consists of whichever parents and friends of the players that could be bothered showing up.

Culture: Driving age is 18 in Sweden, and even then getting your own car at that age is extremely uncommon. However, you can easily get a license for a moped when you turn 15, so these are the vehicles of choice for teenagers to get around.

Subtext: August found out about Wilhelm's trip to town, but his main problem with it is that he wants Wilhelm to stop slumming it with lower class people, and to start hanging out with everyone at school instead, so that he can be properly accultured into the upper class. Again, sosse in this context means working class, not socialist.

Subtext: Although Simon felt really great about his first date with Wilhelm, the text message reminds him that Wilhelm isn't a regular person, and that even this innocent little trip generates interest and scrutiny, and can't be posted publicly.

Culture: As everyone should have noticed by now, Madison keeps speaking English, while everyone speaks to her in Swedish, so clearly she understands it. But here she gives her motivation for sticking to English, and that is that she doesn't feel she's good enough at speaking Swedish. Boarding schools like Hillerska attracts international students that have some kind of connection to the country, so a likely scenario is that Madison grew up in the US with a Swedish parent, and she's being sent here to experience Swedish culture and get immersed in the language to learn it better.

Cinematography: This shot of August drives really home all the pressure he is under, he's out of drugs, the headmistress just hinted that he's out of money, and he's literally being weighed down by books and work-out weights.

Subtext: Simon has kept his visits to Micke a secret from Sara, so here he has to intervene to make sure August doesn't accidentally reveal this to her. He also wants to protect his sister, so he's redirecting August's search for drugs onto himself.

Subtext: And on the flipside, Simon isn't really telling his dad that Sara still hates him and really doesn't want to see him, so he's vague when Micke asks about Sara and Linda.

Culture: Finally a bottle of medicine where we can read the label! Unfortunately for Simon, this is Tramadol, an opiate prescribed for pain relief, which is the complete opposite of the kind of drugs August wants.

Subtext: If you haven't figured out yet that this episode is about class journeys, August spells it out for us here. However, the reason he's "congratulating" Simon in front of everybody is because Simon just supplied him with more drugs, so this is his way of thanking him, since he can't really pay him.

Blink and you miss it: For a split second, Wilhelm grabs Simon's leg during the scary scene.

Subtext: The entire dialogue of the movie works as subtext for what's actually going on between Wilhelm and Simon at this point, and Wilhelm is getting a little freaked out by this sneaky display of affection.

Subtext: The movie also puts words on the implications of Wilhelm getting together with a boy, what about having kids in the future? Can you carry on your family name and traditions, or will they die with you?

Lost in translation: The plaque actually says "FEEL YOUR RESPONSIBILITY FOR THE HERITAGE". Even though the plaque means the heritage and legacy of the school itself, Wilhelm is thinking about his legacy, his heritage, and how getting together with Simon would threaten that.

Lost in translation: Wilhelm actually says "jag är inte en..." - "I'm not a..." before he stops himself. So it's not possible that he was trying to say "I'm not gay", because that doesn't work grammatically in Swedish either. He could be trying to say "I'm not a guy like that" or "I'm not a guy who likes guys", that would work.

Cinematography: The framing and silhouetting of this shot is just chef's kiss. The outline of their hair allows us to see who is who, and we can see from their poses that Simon is welcoming a kiss, while Wilhelm is still hesitating.

[dragonsareourfuture]

I Don’t Belong Here — L Lawliet/GN! Reader

Summary: What kind of a story begins with the main character dying? Well, this one. L Lawliet has lived out his days on earth and finds himself in the afterlife. The Good Place, he is told by a neighborhood architect named (Name). One who shows him around his own neighborhood and introduces him to new people. But something doesn’t add up, L notices. Does he really belong in the Good Place?

(I'd advise having knowledge on the TV show "The Good Place" if you wish to understand the majority of this clusterfuck. Although, if you wish to proceed regardless, go right ahead!)

Chapter One: L Lawliet, You Are Dead.

<>

Weclome! Everything Is Fine.

Everything is fine? Is that so?

The last thing L remembers is the ceiling. Just…the ceiling. The fans twirling on the ceiling of the headquarter building and the cross hatching of the tiles. It was peaceful. Was he sleeping? If he had been sleeping, then how did he end up here?

Now, instead of the ceiling, he stares at a wall. Big, green letters stare back at him. “Welcome! Everything Is Fine,” they say. Something inside L is prickling, like something he is forgetting struggling to find its way to his brain. He wants to ponder it, but something about the words splayed out on the wall in front of him is telling him that he doesn’t have to. Everything is fine, after all.

He only manages to tear his eyes away from the bold, sans serif font when the sound of a doorknob turning catches his attention. Huh. Has there always been a door there? If so he hadn’t noticed it, which L thinks is completely absurd as he usually takes mental notes of everything in a room before getting himself seated. But there it is, a door he missed while transfixed on the somehow calming message on the wall, now opening to reveal...a person.

You stand in the doorway, simply smiling.

Now that L’s attention has been drawn away from the mystifying message he can properly analyze his surroundings, and his new visitor. He’s in a rather simple room, nothing but a few plants dotting the perimeter and a couch in the middle, which he is currently sitting on. And he’s sitting normally. Hm. That feels…itchy. L inches a foot onto the couch in his discomfort of sitting with his bottom planted firmly on the cushions with both feet on the ground. Though he hesitates to bring both feet up and hug his knees to his chin as he normally would, because he senses that your sudden presence means he is about to be standing and following you into that mysterious room behind you. Like a doctor calling a patient into an appointment. Except in this case L has no idea what you are, and judging by your suit and comical, colorful bowtie, you are certainly not a doctor.

“L?” you ask, showing your teeth in a kind smile. “Come on in.”

And against his better judgement, he does. L was never the person to simply keep quiet and obey orders in a situation he does not understand. And there certainly is not a whole lot of understanding happening in his brain right now. He should be asking questions. He should be refusing you. He doesn’t know you, you could be leading him to his doom. All this is possible but something about the way you smile at him…like those big, green words, all he reads from you is “Everything Is Fine.”

The room that you lead him into doesn’t look all that much like a death trap, but you can never be sure. It’s a simple office, plants similar to the ones in the waiting room sit in pots in the corners and on the windowsill. The sun shines outside, seeping through the glass and illuminating the desk on the left as you walk in. On it are a few little trinkets, paperweights, and, right in the middle, a manila file folder.

You circle around the desk and settle yourself into the rollaway chair, gesturing to the sleek armchair across from you. “Why don’t you have a seat, hm?”

What is wrong with him right now? You ask him to do something and he just…does? What happened to his spine, other than it bending exponentially thanks to the way he sits?

No matter, there are more important things to think about right now. Like the fact that he might finally be getting some answers.

You open the file in front of you and skim whatever’s written, opening your mouth to say something when your eyes meet his. And then they drift down to his legs. You stare at him curiously with your mouth still agape for a few moments at how his knees are pulled up to his chin, eventually shaking your head and getting back on track.

“My name is (Name), and of course I already know yours.” you say, folding your hands in front of you. “So, how are you, L?”

How should L even answer that?

“I’m…confused, mostly. How are you?”

Your eyes light up, as if you haven’t been asked that in a while. “Oh, well I’m fine. Y’know, busy, but fine! And, yes, I’d assume you’d be confused, everyone in your situation usually is.”

“My situation? What exactly do you mean by that?” Now that L has finally asked one question he can’t seem to stop the ball from rolling “Speaking of you, who are you exactly? Actually, never mind who, but where—“

You hold up a hand. “All of your questions will be answered, I promise. There’s just one thing that you need to know before we tackle any of that.”

“And what is that?”

Your eyebrows lift slightly, elbows digging into the surface of your desk as you lean forward. You look like you’re about to tell him that he’s fired. That his dog died. That some kid took the last of the strawberry shortcake and he’s going to have to settle for carrot cake. What comes out of your mouth is much worse.

“L Lawliet, you are dead.”

…

He’s…?

Yes. Yes, he is. That’s why he doesn’t remember how he got here.

He’s dead. Huh.

L is perfectly content in not saying anything about this new little factoid, but you’re looking at him expectantly, and a little cautiously. Like you either expect him to punch you or burst into tears. L wonders if that fear is based on experience. How many other people have to told this to?

“…Am I, now? That’s a shame.”

You breathe out a sigh, which could be from relief. “Yes, it is. But, not to worry! Because you’ve ended up in the Good Place, L. You’re going to be okay.”

“So it’s called the Good Place?” L brings his thumb to his lips. “A rather simple thing to call it.”

You nod. “Pretty self-explanatory, right? We didn’t want anyone to get confused. There are just so many names for it on earth. Heaven, Valhalla, Nirvana…But it all translates to one place. Here. And you get to be a part of it.”

“That sounds…” Before he can articulate his thoughts, a dilemma from earlier brings itself to the forefront of L’s mind. “Wrong.”

“I’m sorry?”

“My memories are all wrong. Before this, all I can remember is the ceiling and nothing else. If I were to have died, surely I would remember it, yes?”

You take a gulp of air and pull the manila file closer to you. “We take it upon ourselves to erase the memories of death if they are particularly traumatizing or embarrassing. Helps the residents adapt into a peaceful afterlife better, I’m sure you understand.”

“Yes, that is perfectly sensible. Although I may ask, what is an example of a death that is not at all traumatizing?”

“Pfft, there hardly is one. You’d be surprised how many memories we have to erase.”

“On the contrary, I am hardly surprised. I’m sure there are plenty of people who cannot accept the nature of their death, let alone the fact that they have died in the first place.”

You sigh, “You’re tellin’ me. Most people come around once I tell them that they’re basically in paradise, but some won’t even listen to me once I break the news. One person tried to convince me I was the dead one! It’s just—oh, um, but that’s hardly the point.”

“Do you ever tell someone how they died if they ask?”

Your expression hardens. “I do, but I like to know that they’re certain before I tell them.”

“I am.”

Exhaling through your nose, you prop the manila folder up like a book, scanning the files inside. “Alright then. Let’s see here…ah, okay. So, unfortunately this one’s pretty traumatizing, it’s not really one of those embarrassing deaths that some people get a kick out of, so brace yourself.” You look over the top of the folder as if checking to see if he’s braced himself. His expression and stance is unwavering, large eyes merely staring back at you patiently. “You were betrayed by your colleague Yagami Light – also known as your adversary Kira – and killed by the Shinigami Rem at his request.”

Oh yeah. That.

The ceiling was not clear in view, no, there was something obstructing L’s view of it. A face, staring down at him as his heart gave out right on the floor. Brown eyes filled with such cocky maliciousness, the upward tilt of lips L only knew to spout lies. It all equated to a side of Yagami Light that L knew existed but had never seen up until his final moments. It all added up to one final conclusion -- Yagami Light was Kira all along. L had been right. But the price of knowing that for certain is that, now, there’s nothing he can do about it.

“I’m..I’m sorry. I never know what to do when I have to tell people…” you try, reaching across the table and planting a hand down in front of him. Not asking to hold his hand, not even expecting a reaction. Just showing that you’re there, and that you’re trying.

“It’s up to them now. I’ve done all that I could. I trust my successors.”

“In catching the murderer Kira, right?” you ask, to which L confirms with a polite utterance of ‘yes’. Obviously you know the answer. “I understand that is one of the many, many cases you’ve worked on during your lifetime.” you scan your eyes quickly down what appears to be a long list in your folder. Do you have every detail of his life in those files? Every case he ever took? Hell, every day in his life? You set the file down flat in front of you and look at him with something L determines is admiration. “You’ve done so much good in your lifetime, L. You’ve worked so hard over the entirety of your life to make sure you left the world a little better than you found it. Now…well, now you can rest.”

You can relax, you tell him. And it seems to simple coming out of your mouth yet somehow it still feels out of reach.

“I can…” Is all L manages to say, his preoccupation coming across as dreamy and wistful. His mind is busy running a mile a minute and his mouth just can’t keep up. L decides to test the words out on his own tongue to see if they still sound foreign, “I can rest now.”

Yeah, no, it still sounds like bullshit.

“Yes! Well, after the tour, of course.”

“Tour?”

You start to stand, straightening your colorful bowtie and circling around your desk to the door which you pull open. You don’t exit right away, though. You stand next to the exit, waiting for L to follow you. While he works on untangling himself from his current position you clarify, “A tour of the neighborhood! Where you’ll spend your afterlife.”

[suimin-chan]

Another fic idea that I might never write.

What if Naruto didn't trust Kakashi at all at first? This is a child who has seen the worst of the village people. He's seen the ones who have no reservations showing their hate for him. Those that hurt him out of an anger he doesn't understand. Those that ignore him, like he doesn't even exist. Ignore his suffering and attention seeking. And those that plaster fake smiles, that pretend that they don't hate him. Those who keep a distance, pretend kindness in order to get him to leave faster. He hates that last one the most. He had learned to recognize those fake smiles better after Mizuki conned him into stealing the Forbidden scroll. Fake smile that didn't reach his cold eyes. Honeyed words encouraging him. When Naruto should have known, that this man with such a care free attitude, who never gave a damn about him passing, suddenly wanted to help. He nearly lost Iruka to him. Iruka who had just started to care about him. Giving him the attention he craved. Scolding him like a parent. Taking him out to ramen. Iruka who took a shuriken to the back and told him to run and not listen to the hateful words Mizuki was spouting about Naruto having a demon in him.

So he's rightfully suspicious, in his mind, of another pale haired man with fake smiles, cold and calculating eyes... eye? Who's too nonchalant to be truthful. Who is always late. Lies about everything. Doesn't show much concern as of yet to their safety. Can be too harsh with his words at times while others are sickeningly sweet at times. Manipulating is what Iruka would say. That's what Mizuki had done to him. Said things that made Naruto feel on top of the world, just to get him to do what he wanted.

So he keeps his distance. Doesn't try to show off to get the man's attention. Let him praise Sasuke all he wants. Doesn't take his bait when he tries to rile Naruto up. Keeps away from any hair ruffles. Doesn't accept the invitation to have ramen along with his other teammates. He's not hungry, Iruka is expecting him, he wants to grab something else to eat but will be right back when Kakashi and the other two are done.

He complains to Iruka constantly. Tells him he doesn't like the man. Who reads porn in public and around children? That had gotten a rant out of Iruka. He doesn't try to get to know the man, and Iruka had said that while he trusts Kakashi, he also knew nothing about the strange man; no one really does other than probably Guy. He won't force Naruto to trust the man, but tells him to be sure to follow orders. Iruka had tried to convince him to trust the jonin sensei, but after Naruto pointed out that he doesn't have the best track record when it comes to trusting people, it was dropped. Grudgingly.

Naruto thinks the man was forced to be his sensei because of the demon. And isn't sure if the man would let him die to rid the village of the creature and Naruto. Iruka can't reassure him either, it's a possibility. One neither of them like. Iruka doesn't ask the Hokage for advice, both he and Naruto know that their concerns would be brushed off. Kakashi is a very loyal ninja. And the Hokage is a bit of a tattle-tale. He would tell Kakashi.

Kakashi is obviously confused. Naruto is nothing like he's seen and heard of. Bribing him with ramen doesn't work in opening him up. Neither does teasing him. He's never home when he checks, apparently he stays with Iruka. Naruto violently chases him off when he tries to drop in on the both of them eating at the ramen shop, or drags Iruka away.

It's obvious Naruto doesn't like him. But Kakashi doesn't know why. Iruka, when cornered, refuses to betray Naruto's trust. All attempts at getting close fail. He tries to ask Naruto about it when he's alone. But that just gets him a sexy jutsu and a Naruto who hides better than some ANBU. Calling him out about his dislike in front of Sasuke and Sakura has an embarrassed Naruto closing up tighter than a clam and refusing to so much as look at Kakashi. It also makes Sakura fuss at the boy and makes Sasuke draw away from him too. Casting suspicious eyes on Kakashi. After all, Naruto likes everyone, mostly, so if he doesn't like Kakashi, then clearly Sasuke missed something. Sakura, the goody-two-shoes, trust the adult in charge and looks at the two boys like they've lost their minds. Kakashi just doesn't know what to do.

The mission to Mist, goes horribly. But it does seem to shine a favorable light on Kakashi. Sasuke is back to treating him just like before. Naruto only warms up a little. The chunin recommendations ruin that. Naruto picks up on Iruka's anger and who it's directed to. The trust is out the window in the blink of an eye. They pass the preliminary test, and Iruka's side ring up to him again breaks the cool glares from Naruto. Brushing off training Naruto and choosing Sasuke seems to sting like a rejection to the child. Who according to Iruka, sees at as Kakashi not wanting to bother with him anymore. But there's nothing for it, Sasuke can learn more from him than Naruto could. And there is not enough time to spare. Naruto would probably only learn one thing where Sasuke could probably learn four. Sending him to Ebisu might have been a royal fuck up. So he's surprised to learn that Juraiya trained him.

They are all a bit distant with each other after all the funerals have ended. Naruto and Sasuke are at each other's throats more often than not. Kakashi rarely has time for them. Itatchi's return sends the one he was worried about the most but though would listen to him more, right out the village and chasing Orochimaru. It also leaves Naruto feeling betrayed. Kakashi spends every day in the hospital with Naruto and Iruka. Naruto slowly opens up around him. But then Naruto is leaving and Kakashi thinks all chances of having the boy trust him are gone. Until he gets a letter.

He really cherishes that letter.

[weirdthinkingdragon]

Unwanted Devotion

Yandere Erasermic x Reader

Warnings of yandere and obsessive themes, and kidnapping (like usual)

I was resting in the cat cafe with my best friend, Adara. She loves cats almost as much as me, and they seem rather fond of us too. I scratched the chin of a long-haired Bombay. Its fur was extremely soft and silky to the touch. They take really good care of the cats here. I should know from working here before. Adara laughed as the tail of a white Persian swiped across her nose. It was a peaceful silence between us otherwise.

“So, anyway, have you got anyone to date yet?” She asked, suddenly speaking up. Why did this have to come up? “Eh, only once, but it didn’t last long since he liked someone better.” 

“Ouch. Well, definitely plenty of fish in the sea, huh?” I sighed. “Yeah, but that isn’t really the main focus right now. I can focus on that after my job starts to pay me more. Barely scraping by, but they’re giving me a raise hopefully next week.” 

“That’s not a wrong thing to do.” I rolled my eyes at her. “Says the one married to a rich man already.” 

“Once again, true.” The bell opened to two men entering. They seem slightly familiar. Adara seemed to recognize them before I did. “No way! Is that Hizashi and Shouta!?” I knew she was about to yell out to them. I tried to stop her by covering her mouth, but she leaned away right before. “Hey, Hizashi! Shouta! Is it really you two!?” Her yelling caused the two of them to turn their heads into our direction. A face of annoyance came over the one with the long black hair. It perked up a bit when he and I locked eyes. 

It didn’t take long for the two of them to come to our table, especially seeing the two cats with us. The Bombay of which decided to rest in front of me on the table. That seemed to grab Shouta’s attention. It just looked at him while purring contentedly.  He seemed rather surprised. It could be this one doesn’t like many people. Adara sat next to me for the other seat to be empty for the two of them. 

“It’s been AGES guys! We really should have kept better touch! How have the two of ya been!?” As hyper as ever Hizashi exclaimed. It startled the Bombay, making their fur puff up, but they still didn’t move. 

Adara nodded. “Yeah, it’s been way too long. Surprised to see you guys here. The two of you have been rather busy, huh? being heroes AND teachers now.” 

Wait… what? “Wait… they’re teachers now?” She nodded. “Yep. They actually have been for a few years already!” My eyes widened in surprise. “Hah, wow, never expected you to become a teacher Shouta!” He kept his ever so stoic expression. I do however have a growing interest in how he got that scar on his face. Something tells me it might be a touchy subject though, so no bringing it up.  

A cream-colored Persian went into Shouta’s lap, instantly getting his black outfit full of bright long specks. He didn’t seem to care in the slightest, and it made Hizashi chuckle at him. Hizashi grabbed Shouta’s free hand closest to him and interlocked their fingers. An odd sense of sadness came over me, but there was also happiness as well. Shouta seemed to be looking around making sure no one else saw. It wasn’t very busy considering it was night and had less than half an hour before closing. 

It reminds me that I used to like both a while ago. Of course, now that's definitely off the table. It’s great they stuck towards their heroic desires though. I had to give up from not being able to intern. Same with Adara. Shouta saw where my sight was aimed and tried to pull his hand from Hizashi. “No worries! We can keep it a secret!” Adara piped up.

I smirked at her and looked at them. “What secret?.” She smirks back and that seems to ease Shouta. “Ya should have told me you quit working here! I was tryin’ to find ya months ago! I asked your co-workers when you worked so I could drop by. They refused to tell me!” 

“Well, think about it. They probably thought you might have been a stalker or something. You’re not as recognizable without your hair up.” He thought for a moment and nodded. “Ya got me there!” 

“Still, really bummed they didn’t even tell me someone was asking for me. We could have met so much sooner!” 

“You’re tellin’ me! Well, don’t stop now! Give me your number!”

I laughed at his enthusiasm and gladly gave it to him. He almost too eagerly put my number into his phone. “Might as well give me your number as well.” Shouta piped up. I was rather surprised he wanted it. He didn’t talk to me much back in school. He did often sit by me though. Rather closely too, but there was nothing about it. I shrugged it off and also gave it to him. Adara did the same, but they didn’t seem as enthusiastic about it? Well, she can be rather annoying in her texts. The Bombay demanded attention again by rubbing their head against my hand. 

“Anyways, I envy the energy you have Hizashi. You never seem to run out.” I commented. 

“I really wish he would. He can never be quiet.”  

“Aw Sho, don’t be like that! Ya know you dig it!” 

“I really don’t.” Hizashi looped his arm around Shouta’s shoulders. “Baaaabe! Don’t be so meeeeaaan!” 

“Quiet down!” He snapped, quickly looking around again. None of the staff were in earshot distance and they were busy starting to sweep and restock things. 

“I’d like to ask something if that’s okay,” I said. Shouta looked at me and nodded while Hizashi and Adara were spouting something about music and new slang. He nodded. “How long have the two of you been together? You don’t have to answer if it’s too personal though.” 

He seems to think for a moment. “Believe it or not, it wasn’t long after school. We met up again and spoke to each other at times like now when we have the time,” He looked over and “glared” at Hizashi. “If only he could be a bit quieter, but that’s never going to change with his loud mouth.”

“Were ya talkin’ ‘bout me, babe?” Hizashi suddenly asks, gaining attention towards us. I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Maybe, maybe not,” A smirk grew on my face. “He’s just saying how much he loves you.” Shouta glares harshly at me with a bit of blush forming on his face as Hizashi quickly pulls him closer. “Aw! How sweet of ya!” Adara laughs at Shouta’s misery. 

Hizashi looked at me. “So, y/n, have ya got a lover yet?” I groaned. “Adara JUST asked me that before you two came!”

“We weren’t here then.” I sighed heavily. “No, and I’m not planning on it until my life is more together.” The two of them grew worried expressions. “What do you mean?” 

I gave a nonchalant shrug. “Just having trouble with a bad landlord and bills. You know, the usual sucky things of life.” Hizashi looked at me with a small frown. “We could-” I knew what he was about to say, and that’s a definite no.  “No. I can’t have you guys do that for me.” I cut in. “But we’re will-” 

“Nope! I’ll handle it on my own.” 

“Y/n, this is serious. Let us help you before it gets worse. I’d know.” Shouta’s voice turned incredibly stern. It almost made me want to cave in and accept it. No wonder he’s a teacher now. 

“Listen, I understand your guy’s concern for me, but I’ll be fine! You both have my number, so maybe just text me something later, and I’ll reach out if I need to.” I persisted. Shouta’s eyes narrowed more. I’ve forgotten how truly powerful this man’s glare was. Yikes. 

It felt like hours, though it was only seconds until he finally relented with a nod of his head and the other two let out their breath they were holding. 

Adara decided to break the tension in the worst way possible. “Hey, Y/n? Remember when you used to have a crush on-” I covered her mouth before she could finish. “That jerk from school? Yeah, I want to slap my younger self for ever having that damn thing on such a narcissist.” I quickly came up with that lie and glared harshly at her. I could tell Shouta can tell something was a lie. 

Adara licked my hand. It took a lot of restraint not to recoil and take my hand away from her mouth. “We better go. Text me later for us to meet up!” I told them, and dragged Adara out the door. I yanked on her long red hair to make her come, and as a little payback. As soon as we got out the door and a little ways away, I let go of her. “What was that about!? You were going to make it so awkward between us four than it already was!”

“Don’t try to deny it! You STILL have feelings for the both of them! I can tell just by the way you look at them!” 

“They’re together now! Do you know how bad it would be!? Seriously, they’d never want to talk to me again!” She shrugged. “I don’t know about that. They seemed still pretty interested in you.” 

“You’re reading too far into things. I don’t want this to come up again.” I hissed, and stormed away with feeling sheer embarrassment at the utter gall she had to try bringing that up. 

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

I started to hang out with the two of them in their limited free time. It surprised me they wanted me to hang out with the two of them every time they were free. My little thing I still had for them quickly vanished as I saw their interactions. Now it’s me trying not to physically gush how adorable they are together. Shouta was reading with his legs over Hizashi’s. A cute little habit I noticed of his is him always having to touch Shouta in some sort of way. In public? A “friendly” arm slung around his shoulders. Between us? Holding his hand or even just rubbing his hands on Shouta’s legs. Especially if Shouta is wearing shorts, like he is now. 

I didn't want to impede on their connection more and more as my mind focused on it. They don’t need me here. They were sitting on their couch while myself was on the loveseat. My phone was out in front of me while I absentmindedly glanced at the two of them from time to time. The more the thought wandered, isn’t this kinda weird as well? We don’t even really speak at times like this. Sure, the peace is great and all, but… Fuck it, this has to change. Come on Adara. Right now would be a great time to- 

My phone started to ring. It was Adara. Impeccable timing! I answered it and stood up to leave the room. “What’s up gir-’

“You need to get away from them NOW!!!” Adara sounded beyond panicked. Panic quickly started to rise in me as well as I glanced at the two men. They didn’t seem any different. I stopped looking before Hizashi and I could lock eyes. 

“What do you mean?” I question. 

“I fully underestimated just HOW much they love you! My husband was just warned by his friend you’re in danger. You need to leave, and NEVER be alone with them again! No matter how much they ask! Get out now, before you can’t again!” 

Okay, that’s beyond concerning. But they’d be caught if they ever did something like that! This can’t be a joke though. She’s surprisingly not one for jokes. 

“You’re on a suspect list! It’s free reign if they get you! RUN!” 

The fear increased tenfold with her words. I look back at the cou- They’re not there! Flight kicked in, and I started to run towards the front door. My wrist was suddenly grabbed, and my phone is yanked from my hand. My attention snapped forward to Shouta tightly gripping my phone. Tight enough his knuckles turned white as he pressed the speaker button. 

Hizashi was standing next to Shouta with a betrayed and hurt expression. His frown deeper than I’ve ever seen it. Shouta isn’t doing much better. “You know Adara, It’s rather hurtful to go back on trying to rekindle our love.” Chills ran up my spine. That doesn’t even sound like Hizashi. 

A shriek of surprise came over the phone. It quickly turned to her breathing heavily. She sounded more angry than fearful. “It’s because you two are fucking insane you put them on the suspect list!!” she spat. 

“That’s rather hurtful, dear Adara.” Hizashi fully blew off her accusation. 

Shouta squeezed it tight enough the screen started to crack. He wasn’t holding my wrist… I decided to run for it. I didn’t even get close to the door when something wrapped tightly around my waist and dragged me back. It was pulled up slightly to prevent me from falling. There was only one thing it could be… Shouta’s capture weapon. He was using his quirk and it only needed one hand. The other still held the phone. 

“You’re no longer needed. Stay quiet, and maybe things won’t end bad for you.” 

‘Crack’ the phone got crushed. 

I was in full blown panic now. Especially the look on their faces. It didn’t take long for Hizashi to hug me tightly. Something wet dripped onto my shoulder. Why is he crying!? If anything, I should be the one crying! “Sho, w-we did it all wrong!” Shouta sighs angrily. He stopped using his quirk, but his capture weapon still was wrapped tightly around me. Including my arms which were pinned to my sides. 

“We overheard that night. We were hoping to bring your love back to us by jealousy,” His eyes narrowed as he looked away. “Turns out that was clearly the wrong decision. It only drove you away more.” 

Hizashi hugged tighter. “Do-Don’t worry Songbird! We can still fix this! We can make ya love us again!” He turned his head towards Shouta. Shouta walked behind me and hugged my bound form as well. It was so binding to the point it was hard to breathe. I tried to squirm in their toxic grip. The attempt to break free was clearly fruitless, only succeeding in them squeezing tighter like a snake suffocating its prey. 

Shouta leaned to be right next to my ear, and let out a satisfied exhale. It being so close to my ear sent another shiver up my spine. “We should have done this much sooner.” Hizashi eagerly nodded as I started to get tired and stopped struggling. 

“Ya see! They’re already lovin’ us! Sho, it’s not close enough though!” In the corner of my eye, Shouta nodded in agreement. They released me, but like a leash Shouta pulls me over to the large couch, Hizashi not far behind. 

"Hold them." Shouta said, and pushed me closer to Hizashi. He didn't have to be told twice. Shouta quickly used his quirk to undo his capture weapon. They had a silent conversation as I started to squirm again. “Guys, stop this! I moved on, you guys need to as well!” 

Their faces turned to delusional obsession. Hizashi sat on the couch, and forced my legs to wrap around his lower back. Shouta quickly ties his capture weapon around my ankles before Hizashi lets go of my legs. 

Hizashi then leans against the armrest of the couch as Shouta goes behind me. He puts his legs over Hizashi’s, and leans forward to fully sandwich me. 

“No. We’ll make you love us again. We lost ya once, and never again.” 

“One way,” He leaned next to my ear again. “Or another.” It didn’t take a genius to know it was a threat… That and him squeezing his legs into my sides. 

It was easy to tell I wasn’t going to be able to go anywhere anytime soon…

[tahitianmangoes]

Here's something that I have been thinking about... It's not really related to my blog and you're advised to simply ignore it if it bothers you.

CW Racism

For the past month, my partner has been working away from home. Every night he would call me and we would chat about our days etc. One thing became very clear, very quickly and that was that the people he was working with (who were all white men over 30) were almost all racist.

It didn't bother my partner at first because this wouldn't be the first time he's encountered racists but they all shared a communal living area for the month and as the month progressed, my partner told me more and more shit that was being said for instance: two of the men had a discussion wondering why they couldn't refer to people from Pakistan (and others who fit a certain ~look~) as the P word? Why couldn't they refer to black people as the N word? After all, they call each other it, right?? And why do footballers still take the knee before each match? White lives matter too, you know!!

Sadly, this isn't the first time my partner has heard this shit and it wouldn't be the last. As such, he didn't say anything. It bothered him, of course it did but this wouldn't be the first time that someone with OpInIoNs would try to initiate rhetoric thinly veiled as "conversation" with him and he's learned to not engage with people like that.

But no one else said anything else either. Some of the others were eyeing him nervously, waiting for him to speak up despite the fact that they also knew that whatever shit was being spouted was wrong and that they could tell them to stfu too, that wasn't the sole responsibility of my partner as the only brown person there. But none of them did.

On week two, my partner asked me what he should say when it inevitably did not stop. We talked about it for a bit until I suggested nothing. It's not his place to educate people.

"Then whose is it?" He asked me.

I maintain that it isn't non white (nw) people's jobs to educate , to tell, to spoon feed someone else.

In making a nw person shoulder that responsibility, you're asking them to relive a lifetime's worth of trauma.

That time my partner was told to "go back to the jungle" when he was taking a bus to class as a student by the father of a another student.

Every time someone says "ching chong, ni hao" to me.

The friends I've lost who wouldn't listen to me.

The time my partner was going somewhere and was followed by a small group of white men who told him that he was "in the wrong place" and that he "shouldn't be here" and should "go home now."

The fact our landlord still thinks we're Chinese.

Every partner I've ever had who expected me to be a certain way because I'm Asian. The sexual abuse I experienced by someone I should have been able to trust.

The time my partner's boss sexually harassed him because "I thought Asian boys were into that."

The fact half of my own family do not speak to me because I'm not fully white.

Every time someone refuses to learn how to pronounce my partner's name properly.

Every time we're asked "where are you really from?"

Whenever my partner is the butt of a joke as an Asian male.

The time a teacher made fun of me for mentioning something traditionally Burmese at school in front of the entire class.

The time my boss made shitty comments about me "dating a Chinaman."

The more I sit and think, the more there are and the list could just go on and on.

Each time a nw person is asked to explain or educate, experiences like these are the ones that are dredged up. Trauma is relived. People ask nw people to "educate" them because they don't want to do the work themselves, don't wanna google things, read books or articles yet, will not accept the experiences that are then told to them. There's nothing worse than being asked "why X?" only to be questioned relentlessly and sneeringly afterwards by someone who does not want to listen and is not willing to feel uncomfortable. Because understanding someone's racial experiences *will* be uncomfortable and that's almost a good thing - learning to understand that discomfort is part of it and many people are not ready for that.

My partner felt guilty for not confronting those racist men. I told him not to be. And I'll tell anyone else the same. If you don't feel safe or just don't have the goddamn energy, that's ok. It isn't your job to explain a lifetime of suffering. It's their job to learn.

(ok to reblog, not ok to add on to)

[liemonyellow]

i couldn't hide from the thunder (happy end)

read on ao3

Ship: romantic anamoceit (patton/virgil/janus)

Word Count: 5000

Warnings: implied attempted suicide (no one dies, but it’s not really discussed either - the end is almost pure fluff), lots of italics

Summary: It was cruel, the way Virgil’s heart belonged to someone who would never love him back. It had to be karma, because hadn’t it been Virgil who pushed him away? Virgil, who lashed out and locked out everybody in a moment of hurt, who was too afraid to admit his feelings, forever destined to see his beloved love someone else?

Notes: This is the HAPPY ending. If you prefer sad endings where the ship doesn't get together and someone dies, there is a tragic ending version. The story is exactly the same up until the line, “From you? That would be nice, yeah!” and diverges from there.

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If you're here for the alternate ending, click here to skip to the diverging point.

---

Virgil didn't understand how things had gotten to this point.

He drifted vaguely into the kitchen, taking in nothing, trying not to think about how tired Patton looked when Virgil checked in on him only five minutes ago. Despite Virgil’s insistence that he rest, he was adamant on staying where he was, though he did ask if he could bring up something warm, like tea, or soup. Apparently it tasted better if it was handmade instead of summoned.

"Can you bring up two? For when he wakes up?" He had asked, eyes red with exhaustion, his normally exuberant smile timid and watery.

Virgil didn't want to. But he saw the tremor in the moral side's hand as he tried and failed to rub away the tiredness of his eyes, the other clutching Deceit's cold, unresponsive arm like a lifeline. So he agreed, of course he agreed, because Patton had asked, and it was important that Patton was happy. And if making Patton happy meant making Deceit happy…

Virgil sighed, rubbing his own eyes, pinching his nose as he tried to focus. He opened the cupboard to check what they had and spotted a tin of Patton’s (and Deceit’s, his brain unhelpfully reminded him) herbal tea. He figured it was a safer - and quicker - bet than food and grabbed a couple of tea bags and put them in some mugs, then filled the electric kettle and started it.

It was taking a while.

Wasn't there a saying about pots and boiling water or something?

If Patton was here, he'd probably make a pun, his grin bright and shining as Virgil rolled his eyes and pretended he wasn't amused.

If Deceit was here, he'd probably shoot back with a snarky pun of his own, in that silky-smooth voice of his, all arrogance and smirks.

…

If Deceit was here, Virgil wouldn't be doing any of this.

Virgil didn't know what had possessed him to go and confront the snake the day prior. He was just so frustrated, unable to get the concept of Deceit charming his way into Patton’s daily life - and his heart - out of his head. Virgil was sure that the deceptive side had to be manipulating Patton somehow. And the sight of Patton, after everything he’d said, looking at Deceit with such fondness and affection whenever he saw them together, and Deceit doing the same - it made Virgil’s blood run cold and boil all at the same time. Virgil couldn’t stand it, the thought of the two of them, together. Deceit had to be using Patton to gain more influence over Thomas, because Virgil refused to believe the lying serpent could love anyone more than he loved himself. Because if he could...

Perhaps it was because no one had seen him in the last few days. That had Virgil worried, and the longer he failed to make an appearance, the more antsy Virgil got. Patton’s own fretting was driving him up the wall, but the other side kept saying something about “respecting his boundaries”.

He expected a fight. He expected the usual snark and sass and sarcasm. He didn’t expect to find Deceit’s room dark and freezing, or the side’s cold, dead-looking body curled up and slumped over in a pile on the ground.

Virgil wasn’t sure what happened after the others arrived. He hadn’t even been aware he was screaming until someone had grabbed him and sunk them both out into the commons, because even Remus knew that leaving Virgil anywhere near his own room in that state would have been a bad idea.

Whatever they did or found out, they had eventually managed to move Deceit to his bed and warm him and his room up without too much trouble, or so Virgil had discovered after he had calmed down.

Patton hadn’t left Deceit’s side since.

The shock had worn off completely then, replaced with renewed ire when Virgil realized Patton wouldn’t leave until he woke up.

If Virgil was frustrated before, he was incensed now. What if this was part of Deceit’s plan? What if it was all just another plot to get them to trust him? What if it was all just another lie? Patton, bless his forgiving heart, was dangerously close to falling in love, if he hadn’t already.

And Virgil had tried, so, so hard, to convince Patton to let him take care of Deceit. At least then the moral side could get some rest, and Virgil would have a 24/7 watch on the serpentine side. And watch he would.

Virgil had to admit that Deceit was very convincing in the way he looked like he was falling just as hard for Patton, likely plying him with some sympathetic sob story designed to reel in the fatherly figment. Every little glance, every lingering stare, every miniscule twitch of Deceit’s eyes were focused on Patton, when he wasn’t mocking Virgil with forlorn eyes and damn his acting abilities for making it look so genuine that Virgil couldn’t stop himself from glowering back, trying to catch him slipping up, to the point that every detail of his face, down to each and every scale was ingrained in Virgil’s mind.

The anxious side honestly didn’t know how he could keep up the act. But while Virgil had years of experience with Deceit’s smug goading and flirtation, Patton was falling for it all, hook, line, and sinker. (But why him? Why not-)

Virgil didn't have to like it, but Deceit was one of them now, and Patton would defend his acceptance to the bitter end. Such fierce loyalty, directed at the worst possible target. But however admirable Patton’s newfound devotion to and defensiveness of Deceit were, Virgil was determined to put a stop to it before the situation could change even more.

Now was probably the best time, given Deceit’s unconsciousness. The first thing to do was stop them from spending so much time together, before they actually got together; it was a slim chance, given their recent closeness, but Virgil had to try something. He was running out of simple options - Patton would only worry more once separated from his not-yet(?) boyfriend, and asking him to just hang out would just be tactless and suspicious at this time. Virgil had even offered to stay there with him and Deceit - so many times it sounded pathetically desperate even to himself - just so Patton could eat or sleep or simply stretch his legs for a minute, but Patton wouldn't budge. He hadn’t so much as drunk a glass of water unless someone put it into his hands.

Right, the tea.

He hadn’t noticed the kettle click off, but there was still steam rising from the spout so he poured the water into the mugs. He hesitated before putting the kettle away. Maybe Patton would let him stay a little, if he brought his own cup, and then Virgil could maybe convince him to leave Deceit alone with him for a few hours? Virgil would stay with Deceit for as long as it took.

He grabbed another mug and tea bag and poured himself a cup and grabbed both the other mugs with his free hand before carefully heading back up the stairs, focusing solely on not spilling anything as he walked.

He was just outside the door, wondering how he was supposed to get in when he heard a raised voice. It sounded like Patton.

Glancing around and finding no help, he ended up setting down his one mug on the floor and opened the door with his newly free hand, and slowly tilted his head inside.

“-ease, Janus!” Patton was kneeling next to the bed, clutching Deceit’s hand between his as if in prayer, his head turned away from the door, focused solely on the bed’s occupant.

Deceit was awake, just barely, eyes cracked open just enough to reveal a sliver of yellow and amber. As soon as Virgil had peeked in, he’d noticed and stared, expression unreadable. Virgil’s blood chilled at the sight of him, pale and pitiful and hardly able to keep his eyes open, looking so vulnerable and weak. Then Patton bowed his head, bringing their joined hands to his brow as he trembled, and Virgil’s blood burned in his veins. It was an act, he reminded himself. It had to be. Because if it wasn’t… then they...

Deceit mumbled something too soft for Virgil to hear, and Patton spun around to see him standing in the doorway, wide-eyed. He scrambled to his feet and gave Virgil an obviously fake smile, wiping away his tears. Virgil could feel his heart squeeze at the sight of him pretending he wasn’t hurting.

“Virgil! Janus is awake! Um,” he glanced at the bedridden side and back, spotting the mugs Virgil was holding, “oh, right, the tea! Thank you so much!”

He walked over quickly and grabbed the mugs, saying, “I’m sorry, kidd- uh, Virgil, but I don’t think Janus is really ready for more people right now. I’m really sorry!”

Virgil’s heart dropped, but he managed to nod mutely, step out, and close the door behind him. He heard Patton cooing apologies to Deceit before the heavy wood cut off his voice with a finality that unsettled the purple side.

Virgil stood there for a minute.

Picked up his mug.

Made it all the way to his room.

Shut and locked the door.

Stood there another minute.

Started shaking.

Then, he threw the mug, tea and all, against the wall, splattering the hot liquid all over the posters and shattering the ceramic.

Virgil sank to the floor, hugging his knees, tucking his face into them.

It was cruel, the way Virgil’s heart belonged to someone who would never love him back. It had to be karma, because hadn’t it been Virgil who pushed him away? Virgil, who lashed out and locked out everybody in a moment of hurt, who was too afraid to admit his feelings, forever destined to see his beloved love someone else?

He didn’t know how long he stayed there. Eventually, he managed to drag himself into bed and into sleep, so exhausted that his anxiety had no chance to keep him up before he was unconscious.

For the next week, Virgil settled into a vague routine of bringing tea to Patton (and Deceit) in the evening. Deceit had recovered rather (suspiciously) quickly and was able to get up and walk for a bit. Still, Patton refused to leave him alone. If anything, he’d gotten more protective. Logan, Remus, and even Roman would also pop in during the day to see how the two were doing, but they did not seem all that concerned with things, at least not as much as Virgil was.

The worst part was how carefully the others would tread around Virgil, like he was some pitiful, pathetic creature or something. It was no secret that he had a huge crush on Patton. (Was that why Deceit chose him? Or just a spiteful twist of fate?) Roman had teased him relentlessly about it before… recent events, but Remus had only gotten worse, ribbing Virgil about making a little threesome with Patton and Janus, after years of mocking him about Janus’s “flirting”. And while Logan didn’t participate, the logical side also talked about Virgil’s crush as a matter of fact while chastising the twins for their teasing. So Virgil had taken to just staying inside his room and taking a nap during the day and going out in the dead of night, when everyone else was sleeping.

The evening of that fateful night, Virgil drifted awake the same way he fell asleep, vaguely aware that he was in a state of transition before his mind caught up to whatever was happening. He pushed himself up and stretched, checked the time, then flopped down, eyes drifting closed again...

Why had he woken up so early? Usually he wouldn’t get up for at least another hour, unless he was being summoned for something. God, he was so damn tired these days, no matter how long he slept.

Virgil’s eyes snapped open and he bolted up.

Fuck, Thomas was getting anxious about something.

Virgil swung himself out of bed and ran his hand through his hair to hopefully smooth it out some, then sank out and appeared in usual place at the foot of the stairs.

Thomas was staring at his phone, frowning. He didn’t seem too aware of Virgil’s presence.

Virgil reviewed the situation: Thomas was anxious. Obviously. He was about to text a friend. They hadn’t talked in a while, and left things off in a weird way that no one was happy with. Thomas missed him. He just wasn’t sure he missed him back.

Thomas sighed. He looked up and over to the blinds where Patton (and, now, Deceit) usually stood during discussions, then back down to his phone again. It had locked from inactivity. He huffed in frustration as he keyed his passcode into the screen.

Virgil decided to cut to the chase.

“Tell him the truth.”

Thomas practically leaped, his head whipping back up to see his anxious side leveling an accusatory stare at him, one eyebrow raised.

Thomas sighed again. “It’s probably too late...”

“Look, I’m sure he misses you, too.”

“Yeah, right. Clearly he does, or he wouldn’t be constantly avoiding me.” Thomas frowned at his phone again.

“You don’t know that. Not for sure. And being sure means you can move forward.”

Thomas gave an empty chuckle, then he leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees and holding his head in his hands, as if denying he could see anything would help him avoid talking about it.

“Pretending you don’t miss him isn’t going to help. Just tell him the truth. Doesn’t he deserve that much?” Virgil asked.

Virgil knew that neither option felt any better than the other. Thomas glanced at Virgil from the corner of his eye. The side slouched even more, eyes flicking between Thomas and a random spot on the floor, almost pleadingly.

“Of course he does. But what if he doesn’t feel the same?”

“Then you apologize. And… you move on.”

Thomas shifted his glare to Virgil. “You’re saying that?”

Virgil hid his face. Of course he’d be called out. “We all have to try something new at some point, right?”

Thomas’s glare lost its heat. He looked back down again. “I want to apologize, but I feel like-”

“Like no matter what you do, you do the wrong thing. I know.”

Thomas sighed again, frowning at his phone. He hesitated, then deleted his text and wrote, “I’m sorry for how we left things. I still care about you. I want to apologize. Can we talk?”

He stared at the words for a good minute. Then he hit send.

It was the truth, at least. Thomas didn’t feel all that much better, and for that matter, neither did Virgil. Thomas set his phone down and buried his face in his hands again.

“Thanks, Virgil. For being… gentle? Patient? Understanding? Usually you’re the one giving me a hard time about this stuff.”

“I figured you could use a break. I am trying, you know. To help. To be less… aggressive.” Virgil shrugged, looking away. “I’m just filling in for Patton, really. Y’know, what he’d say in this situation and all.”

Thomas looked up and glanced at his- their spot again.

“I figured he would have shown up. To help me, like you just did. Where is he?” he asked.

Virgil shrugged. “With Deceit.”

“Why-”

“Just- don’t ask, Thomas. Now’s… not a great time.”

“When is?”

Virgil couldn’t look at Thomas. Thomas rubbed his eyes.

“I just don’t get it. Up until a couple of weeks ago, things were fine. Then, it’s like, I don’t know, it’s like I stopped caring. About my friends, my family, my own life. I was supposed to do laundry, and take a day off to hang out with everyone, but I totally flaked on everything!” Thomas leaned back, sliding a little down the couch. “And I know it’s not Janus’s fault because Janus told me self-care was having clean clothes and spending time with my friends.”

Virgil held back a growl. This was absolutely Deceit’s fault. ‘Janus’ this and ‘Janus’ that, could the snake leave him alone for five goddamn minutes?! He already saw him day after day (Virgil could think of only one reason for wanting to see him more and he was already doing the best he could on that front) and he couldn’t even get away from him in his dreams!

“Why don’t you ask the Lord of the Lies himself?”

“I tried! But he didn’t show up either.”

“So you summoned me instead?”

“Not really… I guess I just got more anxious the longer I waited.”

“You know what? I just- I can’t with you right now.”

And with that, Virgil sank out, refusing to answer Thomas’s summons afterward. He appeared outside of Deceit’s door.

Now that he was here, though, he hesitated. But he brushed it aside, too angry to think at the moment. He knocked and let himself in.

“Thomas wants to talk to Deceit.”

Patton was already half-standing, looking back and forth between the side in the bed and the side who just entered.

“But, Janus isn’t ready for-”

“He can walk now, can’t he? It’s not like he’s a real human, it’s not like he’s going to disappear without you around.”

Patton made a pained sound, but Deceit laid a hand on his arm and said, “It’s fine, Patton. I can go and see what Thomas wants to talk about.”

Patton shook his head. “No! I’ll go!”

“Patton-”

“I’ll go,” Patton said.

Deceit looked into his eyes for a long moment, then nodded gravely before adding, “Then Virgil can stay with me tonight, and you can get some actual sleep.”

Patton’s face scrunched in distress. “Janus-!”

“Thank you, Patton. For everything you’ve done for me. But you need rest.” Something they both agreed on, not that Virgil would ever admit to it.

“Will you…?” Patton glanced worriedly at Virgil.

“Yes, Patton. I’ll tell him. It will be fine, Patton. I promise. Go to Thomas.”

Patton glanced a moment at Virgil, then bent down over Deceit. From his angle, Virgil couldn’t tell what he was doing, but it seemed like he was whispering something in Deceit’s ear. Deceit whispered something back, and Patton stood back up, tears forming in his eyes. They were both smiling softly. Virgil felt a pang of jealousy throbbing in his heart, knowing he’d never be the recipient of such fondness. Patton wiped his face on his sleeve, then walked over to Virgil, expression somber.

“Virgil,” he said, voice low. “Please, please, don’t let Janus do anything… extreme. Please. I know you don’t like him much, but I’m begging you.”

Virgil sighed, but cracked a small smile. “Darn, there goes my plan to secretly help him enter the Olympics.”

Patton didn’t laugh. Virgil’s smile fell, and he said, “Yeah, sure. I’ll try.”

A corner of Patton’s mouth quirked up. “Thank you.”

Patton sunk out slowly, maintaining eye contact with Deceit until he was gone, leaving the two of them alone together. Finally.

Deceit immediately spoke up. “There’s no need for you to actually stay, Virgil. At least, no longer than you’re comfortable with staying.”

Virgil fixed his stare on the reptilian side. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? No, you’re not getting rid of me that easy. I told Patton I’d stay here, and that’s what I’m going to do. And so are you. You said you were going to tell me something?”

Deceit sighed, rolling his eyes and looking away. He looked deep in thought. That never meant good things, in Virgil’s experience.

“Do you remember what it was like? Before you left?”

The question caught Virgil by surprise. “Uh. Yeah, I guess. As much as anyone remembers things that happened years ago.”

A corner of Deceit’s mouth twitched up, not unlike Patton’s had some minutes ago. Virgil wondered who’d picked it up from whom.

“I suppose it’s too much trouble to ask if you ever missed it?”

What was his angle here? Trying to trick Virgil into reminiscing? For what purpose? Virgil’s glower deepened.

Deceit sighed. His shoulders slumped, just a fraction. “I’m only wondering, Virgil, I’m not going to bite you or anything.”

“Why do you want to know?”

Deceit met his eyes, staring levelly. Neither one said anything for what felt like ten minutes, but couldn’t have been more than ten seconds. Virgil broke away first, face flushing from such direct, intense eye contact.

“Can’t a side be curious about what it’s like to be accepted?”

“You are accepted. Sort of.”

“Sort of,” he agreed, nodding.

Virgil bit his lip. The motion drew Deceit’s eyes to it, but they snapped back up to continue boring into Virgil’s. “Honestly? Not really. It was different, back then. Harder. And don’t get me wrong, it’s still hard sometimes, but it’s also easier? ‘Cause now Thomas knows how to, I don’t know, work with me? We work together now, and it’s a lot better than it was when we didn’t.”

Virgil ran a hand through his hair, fixating his gaze on the pattern in Deceit’s rug.

“When you were one of us.”

Virgil looked back at Deceit. His expression was, as usual, unreadable. “Well, yeah.”

Deceit looked away. He took a deep breath. Then he got out of bed.

“What are you doing?!”

Deceit snapped his fingers.

“Baking a pie. What does it look like I’m doing?”

He was now dressed in his best attire, though not quite fully. Virgil was reminded of the courtroom. Whatever Deceit was planning, it couldn’t be good. Virgil could feel his panic rising.

“Patton said-”

Deceit frowned and snapped again, conjuring a pair of yellow socks.

“Patton doesn’t control what I do.”

He put the socks on.

“I said-”

Pulled out a pair of shiny shoes from beneath his bed.

“You said you would try. You tried. It’s not your fault you didn’t succeed.”

Put on one shoe.

“What are you even going to do?!”

Then the other.

“Take a walk.”

Deceit stood up, straightening out his suit and checked his inner breast pocket for something, patting it for extra measure.

“What?”

He stood in front of Virgil. He looked shorter without his hat. His hair was a mess of curls. They looked soft.

“I left my favorite hat in the Imagination. I need to go fetch it.”

Virgil blinked incredulously.

“Why now?”

“Patton would hardly let me out of his sight, let alone this room.”

“Ask Roman or Remus to get it.”

“Alas, I hid it too well. Neither of them would be able to find it.”

“Ask one of them to make you a new one!”

“Are you going to let me go or not?”

“Give me one good reason I should!”

Deceit gave him yet another unreadable expression.

“You want the truth?”

“From you? That would be nice, yeah!”

Virgil was getting frantic. He could feel, somewhere deep within, that if he let Deceit walk out the door, he would never see him again.

The thought was unbearable.

“The truth,” Deceit scoffed, “is that you win.”

Virgil froze, uncomprehending.

“Wh- What?”

“Patton loves you. He says he loves me, too, but he didn’t want to hurt you. So we were a secret. He said he was fine with just me. But I’m not fine with just him.”

Virgil could not believe what he was hearing. It had to be a lie.

“I also love you. I’ve loved you for so long.” Tears were streaming from his eyes. “I thought- maybe you-” He had to stop to stem the flow of tears trailing down his cheeks and take a deep breath.

Virgil was frozen. He could not think of a single thing to say, or even think. His mind was stuck on three words.

“You made it very clear that you don’t feel the same. You don’t want anything to do with me. And you’re right. I wouldn’t want anything to do with me.” He wiped away a stray tear. Virgil wanted to do it for him, and to punch whoever had hurt him so much he’d started crying.

Oh. That would be him.

“And don’t think no one’s noticed how hard you’ve tried to separate Patton and me.” He sniffled. “So I’m giving you what you want. Removing the unwanted leg of the love triangle. You want Patton? He’s yours. You want me gone? I’m gone.”

Gone? What did he mean, gone?

“I mean you don’t have to worry about me ‘manipulating’ Patton anymore. I’m honestly surprised you found me in the first place. I thought for sure no one would notice until after everything was settled.”

No. What…

“Were you upset that I survived? Just one more day and all your problems would have disappeared. Well, here’s your chance. I’ll leave you and him and everyone else alone. Forever.”

Forever? As in...

“Yes.”

No. No. This wasn’t happening. He couldn’t mean...

“What do you want from me, then?! Stop giving me mixed signals, and just tell me!”

Virgil looked down at the serpentine side, at the tears in his lovely, long lashes, the anguish in his eyes, obscured by the red puffiness of his eyelids, the pained grimace that didn’t belong on his lips. Anxiety stood there, watching in slow-motion as his racing thoughts came to a conclusion that he’d known for so long but never truly acknowledged.

Why he’d been so jealous not only over Patton spending time with him, but over him spending time with Patton. Jealous over the fact that Patton was the one being flirted with, being teased, being stared at with such wistfulness. Jealous that they were together, without Virgil.

Why he’d been terrified, just as Patton was, that if he didn’t constantly have him in sight, that if he’d so much as blinked, he’d be back there, screaming over the cold body of someone he loved.

So he did the only thing he could think of, the thing he’d been wanting to do for the last few minutes, hours, days, years, but couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Didn’t.

Virgil grabbed Janus by his lapels and pulled him into a kiss. It was sudden and unexpected, and the impact kind of hurt his teeth, but if this was the only way he could get through to him, so be it.

Janus melted into it, after a moment of shock. Virgil pulled him closer, wrapping an arm behind the smaller side’s neck possessively. Janus embraced him tightly around the chest, almost falling backward from the way they were leaned over.

After an eternity, they separated. Virgil loosened his grip, but did not let go, resting his forehead against the shorter side’s head, eyes still closed.

“You love me?” he asked, voice small.

He said nothing, but Virgil could feel his nod. For the first time in what felt like forever, Virgil smiled, albeit with a bittersweet joy.

“I love you, too, Janus. I’m sorry. I’m so- I’m so fucking sorry it took you wanting to die for me to say it. But I want you here, with me. With Patton.”

They stood there, holding one another. Virgil didn’t want to let go. But he did.

They needed to talk. But they could do that later, with Patton. Janus needed rest. They all did.

Before they could do anything about it, the door opened and Patton took one step inside before stopping. He looked from Janus to Virgil and back.

“Janus? Why are you dressed like that? What’s going on?”

Janus shared a glance with Virgil. They both looked back to Patton.

Then they both burst into laughter.

“Guys!?”

Janus stumbled backwards to sit on his bed. Virgil doubled over, his own knees threatening to collapse from the emotional roller coaster this night had been.

“Patton, dearest, come here,” Janus said, holding out a hand as he wiped away his tears. Tears of joy, this time, and the thought swelled Virgil’s heart.

Patton gave Virgil a worried glance as he crossed the room toward Janus, only to be pulled, yelping, into the latter’s lap.

“Janus! Virgil-”

“Has something he’d like to say to us. Doesn’t he?” Janus’s eyes were so warm, so mirthful, and yet there was still some hesitation, some fear. It was time to put a stop to that doubt, once and for all.

Virgil shoved his hands into his hoodie pockets and hid behind his bangs. Despite knowing the likely outcome, he was- surprise, surprise- anxious about actually voicing it. He never thought he’d ever have to actually say it, and the last few minutes didn’t count, because Janus said it first. He gave himself a moment to compose himself.

He stared at the two of them, the two he’d fallen deeply and wholly in love with, and took a deep breath.

Then another.

One more-

“Virgil,” Janus said, his voice tender and gentle and oh, how Virgil loved that it was directed at him, “if you don’t want to do this now-”

“No,” he said, shaking himself out, “this ends here. Or, begins, I guess.”

Patton looked between them again, comprehension dawning as he looked into Virgil’s eyes. No doubt he’d noticed the eyeshadow by now.

“Patton. Janus. I, uh, I like. You?” Virgil cringed. “No, wait! I can do better!”

They waited patiently, with watery eyes and tender smiles. God, Virgil loved them.

“I love you. Both of you.” Virgil exhaled, eyes closed. There. It was over.

There was whispering, then the sound of cloth and springs and movement and footsteps. Virgil opened his eyes to see Janus and Patton standing side-by-side and hand-in-hand in front of him, holding out their free hands toward him.

He took them gratefully and they pulled him in to plant a kiss on both of his cheeks. His face burned.

“We love you, too, Virgil.”

---

@mimssides look what i did! happy ending! (don’t read the other one lol)

[fursasaida]

“Slavery is the ghost in the machine of kinship.” Saidiya Hartman’s concise articulation gets to the heart of the ways that chattel slavery continues to animate the present: transatlantic chattel slavery’s constitution of domestic relations made kin in one direction, and in the other, property that could be passed between and among those kin. This is the ghost in the machine of contemporary U.S. life and politics.

This piece by Christina Sharpe (which builds, as she notes, on Saidiya Hartman’s work) is from 2016, but I think of it often and especially today. The following contains my thoughts on what the essay, which is addressed to white people in the US, asks of and does for me as one such person. I can’t claim that it’s anything more than a way of coming to grips, personally, with the moment in which we find ourselves on June 2nd, 2020.

Lose your kin means: be a race traitor. Lose your kin means: be willing to burn bridges. Lose your kin means: don’t keep the peace with your family, your friends, your neighbors–not just for a minute or a day, a minor kerfuffle to be patched up quickly, but with readiness to lose their love and acceptance irrevocably. Lose your kin means: abandon your sense of belonging in and to whiteness.

Many white people seeking to develop an anti-racist practice in our lives have heard these kinds of things before, probably even several times. But threading them through the concept of kinship does something useful for me. It makes me think about how I am building and valuing relationships, when, and with whom. It gives me a method.

Kin here means, all of those recognized by the self–in some fundamental, indelible way–as being like the self.

Thinking of kinship makes me more willing to say something to my aunt or the one regularly problematic guy in my group chat (to whom, most of the time, nobody else will say boo) when I know something ought to be said; to volunteer to post bail for some future someone I have never met when it feels very tempting to just leave the tab open or the message unread, with the hollow self-assurance that I’ll come back to it later or someone else will get there first; to confront the professor spouting racism so my fellow students don’t have to, without concern for the consequences (which, of course, are lesser for me); to join a protest; to get up in the lecture hall filled with dozens of primarily white people and turn off the racist image on the projector that no longer needs to be seen to be discussed, though white presenters senior to me have seen fit to leave it up. Or whatever the case may be. Thinking of kinship makes me more willing to do these things rather than condemn whatever happened in words after the fact, where those responsible–to whom I would have maintained my kinship by not acting–are not present.

It does this because it reminds me that what is holding me back is the desire to remain securely bound (held, even) by the ties through which I am recognized as kin by my aunt, my friend in the chat, many of my colleagues, and all the (ethnonational, “civilizational”) white kin I can feel spectrally watching me when I decide whether or not I will be starting an argument or making myself available to help. It pushes me to face that desire and decide that it’s not worth doing nothing for.

It reminds me that I can be bound by another kind of kinship, with a different set of people. To lose your kin does not mean to be alone, though that is the threat implicit in white kinship and therefore the prospect one has to be willing to face. In my experience it leads, in fact, to closeness, to recognition. (These are not the adulation many white people expect and demand for doing any little thing, which is still a relationship of distance. They are everyday moments, they are being in company: anything from deep, lasting friendships to a one-time nod that says, “I see what you’re doing.” These mean much more than any imagined celebration.) I can choose to be my students’ caretaker by practicing what I try to guide them through in the classroom. I can choose to be worthy of friends’ trust by doing what they believe I will do when they aren’t watching, and of colleagues’ esteem by doing what they would like someone in the room to do. I can act as someone who owes kinship to them, which means: someone who does not owe it to whiteness. (The easier and more common path for the white “progressive” is to pretend to do both. Sharpe’s point is that this is not just insufficient but impossible.)

I cannot decide unilaterally to be these friends’ and colleagues’ kin (let alone students’); no one but they could claim me as such. But I can choose to treat them as kin is treated, by honoring and defending those relationships over and above the ones that bind me to whiteness. I can be willing to accept interpersonal and professional costs for doing this because I can recognize that what I am really afraid of is the withdrawal of a kinship that I claim I do not wish to share, and in understanding that fear I can hold myself to the claim rather than bemoaning a conveniently mysterious sense of inertia or hesitation. I can work to preserve not the stability of my belonging to white kinship but the possibility that my friends and colleagues might claim (or recognize) me as kin; or the fact, in some cases, that they have. I cannot, again, expect this as my due. But just as maintaining the ties of white kinship is about securing the capacity to be recognized as that sort of kin, I can reshape the energies, fears, and desires that regulate white kinship’s ability to shape my behavior around this alternate kinship as a potentiality that needs to be protected.

I can orient myself with these these bonds. I can be guided by them to define my understanding of my place in the social world; to recognize myself differently. And when I do that I find that it is not very difficult at all to act.

White people are searching for ways to show solidarity to people of color and some have landed on the performative symbol of wearing a safety pin. Symbols are important and a safety pin is not enough. A safety pin is a temporary fix for a rend in the fabric. One must be willing to say this is abhorrent. One must be willing to be more than uncomfortable. One must be willing to be on the outside. One must refuse to repair a familial rift on the bodies cast out as not kin.

Slavery is the ghost in the machine of kinship. Kinship relations structure the nation. Capitulation to their current configurations is the continued enfleshment of that ghost.

Refuse reconciliation to ongoing brutality. Refuse to feast on the corpse of others. Rend the fabric of the kinship narrative.

[haberdashing]

Turning Saints Into The Sea

A brief account of the life and death of one Evan Lukas.

on AO3

Evan Lukas was never expected to be the Lukas family heir, and perhaps that was what saved him, or at least allowed him to get as far as he did.

His sister Anne was five years older than him. She resisted her younger brother’s attempts to get to know her at all costs, preferring to wander the grounds of the family estate on her own. She was coolly cordial to all who visited the family home, never grew attached to any of the ever-rotating cast of nannies and tutors who tended to the Lukas family children, eschewed music and stories in favor of sitting silently by herself.

She was, in short, a Lukas to the core.

Evan suspected that there was less pressure on him because her position as likely family heir was already clear by the time he was old enough to speak, or to have not speaking be a choice for him to make. Likely it was better than the alternative, all things considered.

Still, though, Evan wished he could have had a nice long conversation with his older sister at least once in his life, had a true meeting of the minds between the two of them. Maybe then he would understand her better, and she him in turn. Maybe then he would see the appeal in the loneliness that had been ground into her from such a young age, a loneliness than he himself never quite accepted.

Anne wasn’t Evan’s only sibling, though, at least not initially. A year and a half after he was born, another baby girl came along, a younger sister that was given the name Elizabeth. She came to use the name Lizzie, the name nicked from that of a character in one of her favorite novels.

Lizzie loved stories. She could devour novels in no time at all, and would spout off facts about her favorites to anyone who would listen and some who wouldn’t. She named the individual animals that lived upon the family estate and waved to them, greeting them enthusiastically as they passed by. If she wasn’t talking, she was usually singing or humming to herself, her presence clear from a distance if one simply listened closely enough. She once kicked one of her nannies for not letting her read a book and complained that her previous nanny was much nicer, even mentioning the previous nanny by name.

Evan assumed that Lizzie was informed at some point of how unbecoming her behavior was for a member of the Lukas family and that she just refused to adapt accordingly, but perhaps nobody spoke to her about it until it was too late. If they did, after all, it wouldn’t have been within young Evan’s earshot.

The children of the Lukas family were generally tended to separately as often as possible, so Evan hadn’t even noticed that he hadn’t seen Lizzie all day long until his mother announced at dinner that she had been sent away to live with distant relatives, never to return.

Evan always wondered if that was true. It was possible, certainly, but if Lizzie was living with relatives, they were distant enough that he never saw her again, not even at the funerals that seemed to be the one thing that always brought far-flung members of the Lukas family together. Sending her away like that would take an awful lot of work, too, and more than that, it would take an awful lot of coordinating with Lizzie’s new guardian(s)-to-be, many conversations necessitated by the transfer that were never the sort of thing his parents sought out if they could avoid them.

When Evan grew older, he wondered if Lizzie’s removal from the Lukas family had been rather more direct than he had been told, if she had been sacrificed to the family faith in a way more gruesome than a mere change of scenery, if she had been left to rot in the Lonely until nothing but her skeleton would remain on that strange and distant shore.

Evan was informed about the Lonely not long after Lizzie’s removal, and while the two were never directly connected, Evan always suspected that they had hoped to wait longer, wait until he was more ready for the information they would give him, but they wanted to explain their actions to him before he grew to resent them for taking away the only sister he ever really knew.

(If that was their goal, well, they were too late for that.)

Evan didn’t fully understand. Sure, being alone was nice sometimes, he could get that, but sometimes you had to spend time with people too. How could anyone spend all their time being lonely? How could you worship a god that was only one end of that spectrum? 

Evan’s elders tried to answer his questions, but their responses never quite made sense in his mind, and the frustrated looks on their faces made it clear that the feeling was mutual, that they couldn’t understand his position on the matter. Either Evan himself was missing something, or... or it was the rest of the family that was.

After a few cycles of mutual misunderstanding, Evan nodded and said that he would try his best, but he suspected that he was already branded as a nonbeliever by the time that discussion came to a close, much as he pretended to toe the family line for years thereafter.

Evan was surprised that his family let him go off to uni. Surely they knew that he’d make friends there, that he would be far less isolated than he had been living at home. Perhaps they’d expected that he’d only befriend kindred souls, others who knew what it was like to live on sprawling family estates and to be taught by a series of tutors and to have a family name that came with a meaning and a legacy attached, but that wasn’t the case; Evan knew that life well enough already, and he didn’t wish to dwell upon it further. 

Instead, he sought out people with lives vastly different than his own, people who had grown up trying to stand out from the crowd, people who spoke their mind without hesitation. Evan learned from them and was surprised to find that they were often eager to learn of his life in turn, that they found his experiences every bit as fascinating as he did theirs.

In his third year in uni, Evan went in on a flat with friends and sent a letter home stating that he had no interest in serving the Lonely or keeping up the Lukas family name, and that he was willing to accept whatever consequences would come of this. He received a letter shortly thereafter stating that he would not be inheriting the family fortune, that he would get a relatively small sum with which to finish his education and establish himself in the world and would then be entirely cut off from the family’s riches, and that he was not invited to the Lukas family functions (such as they were) any longer. The letter Evan got seemed polished, rehearsed, like it had been sent a number of times before and all they’d had to do was swap out a few names and details. Still, the overall outcome suited him just fine. He didn’t have any interest in remaining connected with the greater Lukas family anyway; it wasn’t as if there were much of a connection there to begin with.

Evan’s love of learning soon turned into a science degree and an interview for a lab assistant position in one of the UCL Biochemistry departments. Evan had known that the interview might well change his life, and it did in the sense that he ended up getting the job he was seeking, but as it turned out, it changed his life in more ways than one.

If Evan had been asked before that day if he believed in love at first sight, he would have vehemently denied it. Lizzie might have believed in such things, but Lizzie was gone, perhaps because of her clinging to such fanciful beliefs, and the world simply didn’t work like that from what he’d seen of it. Love had to come from connection, and connection had to come from time spent together. You couldn’t love someone you didn’t know, after all.

But when Evan first met the eyes of one Naomi Herne, another applicant waiting to be interviewed for that same lab assistant position, he knew in an instant that he loved this woman, even before he knew her name.

It wasn’t because she was particularly attractive--she looked nice enough, sure,  in a drab, professional sort of way, but if they had met on the street somewhere, if he hadn’t looked her in the eye, she wouldn’t have seemed like anything special to him and he might well have walked on by without knowing what he was missing.

But that look in her eyes when they locked eyes with one another was one Evan knew too well, one of loneliness that was part choice and part necessity, coupled with a muffled longing for connections that didn’t exist. It was a look that a younger Evan had seen in his own eyes time and time again.

And so, just as Evan had managed to extract himself from a life of loneliness, he set out to do the same for Naomi.

They talked to each other, a conversation that was as comfortable as it was enlightening, the two speaking at length both before he was called in for his interview and after she got out of her own. They went on dates, one after the other, Evan always fearing that Naomi would call things off and that this date would be the last, but it never was. Evan introduced her to his friends after learning that she had none of her own, and they always got along every bit as well with her as they had with him, willing to adapt to her customary loneliness as they had been to adapt to his. She moved into his flat, which soon became their flat, his assortment of shabby furnishings being completed by the addition of her own to the mix.

He said that he loved her, and she said it back with gleaming eyes that were anything but lonely now.

He thought about how to pop the question, but, well, this was something that his upbringing had left him entirely unprepared for, and Evan worried that she would say no, that she would leave him, that the love of his life would be gone forever, that he would taste loneliness once again for the sin of trying to move too quickly...

Two years after the job interview at which they met, Naomi bent down on one knee in the middle of a park and proposed to him, and Evan laughed a little, because he hadn’t expected her to beat him to the punch, before quickly and enthusiastically saying yes and kissing her on the cheek.

Evan and Naomi began to plan out their life together. Naomi wanted to have children, and while Evan hadn’t thought about it much beforehand, she won him over quickly enough when they discussed the matter. He liked the thought of it, really. A generation of Lukases that knew nothing of that huge, horrid place that he had once called home, a Lukas family that would never know true loneliness...

Perhaps he should have known that it was too good to be true.

Three and a half months before what was to be their wedding day, shortly after lunch, Evan suddenly keeled over at work, chest pain and weakness making him collapse onto the floor.

He wouldn’t live to hear the doctors’ descriptions of what had happened, wouldn’t know that he’d apparently suffered from a rare congenital heart problem all along, but in his last few seconds of consciousness, Evan suspected that somehow his family had gotten its revenge, that he had been doomed from the moment he was born a Lukas.

[aion-rsa]

The Mandalorian May Want More Cara Dune But Many Star Wars Fans Want Less Gina Carano

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This Star Wars: The Mandalorian article contains spoilers.

The Mandalorian‘s latest episode, “The Siege,” is a mostly entertaining action romp through Nevarro that gives fans more clues as to what the Empire is planning for the Outer Rim. The episode is also an opportunity for Mando and Baby Yoda to reunite with season one allies Greef Karga (Carl Weathers, who also directed the episode) and Cara Dune (Gina Carano). But, while the “getting the band back together” feel of the episode generally works in its favor, many Star Wars fans are dismayed by Carano’s return to the show.

The actor and former MMA fighter has quickly become one of the most controversial figures currently working in Star Wars, which has left many fans conflicted about how to celebrate the importance of her character while also separating Cara from Carano herself. Much of the debate between fans who support Carano and those who are petitioning for Disney to fire her from the show (using the #FireGinaCarano hashtag) stems from the views the actor has shared on Twitter.

For the past few months, Carano has used her Twitter handle to question Covid-19 mask mandates meant to protect people from a pandemic that has already killed over one million people around the world, posting conspiracy theories and memes that question a proven preventative measure that can slow the spread of the virus. Just days before “The Siege” aired on Disney+, Carano posted a meme suggesting that “Democratic Government Leaders” would soon “recommend we all wear blindfolds along with masks so we can’t see what’s really going on.”

She’s also been dismissive of adding pronouns to her Twitter bio in solidarity with the trans community, at one point using the words “boop/bop/beep” in her profile name to seemingly mock those who use pronouns.

“They’re mad cuz I won’t put pronouns in my bio to show my support for trans lives. After months of harassing me in every way. I decided to put 3 VERY controversial words in my bio.. beep/bop/boop,” Carano tweeted after her stunt was criticized by the Star Wars community. “I’m not against trans lives at all. They need to find less abusive representation.”

Carano later took down the joke, explaining that she’d spoken with The Mandalorian star Pedro Pascal (who does use pronouns in his bio) about the meaning of the gesture.

“Yes, Pedro & I spoke & he helped me understand why people were putting them in their bios,” she tweeted. “I didn’t know before but I do now. I won’t be putting them in my bio but good for all you who choose to.”

After Carano declined to show support for the Black Lives Matter movement in August, she was praised by alt-right site Breitbart for “refusing to buckle and bow to the woke social media,” according to Vanity Fair.

“In my experience, screaming at someone that they are a racist when they are indeed NOT a racist & any post and/or research you do will show you those exact facts, then I’m sorry, these people are not ‘educators.’ They are cowards and bullies,” Carano tweeted at the time.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

Most recently, Carano has shared conspiracy theories about unproven claims of widespread voter fraud in the aftermath of the US general election and has also announced that she’s joined Parler, a “free speech” social media site that’s quickly become a haven for right-wing extremists.

“We need to clean up the election process so we are not left feeling the way we do today,” she wrote in a recent tweet. “Put laws in place that protect us against voter fraud. Investigate every state.  Film the counting. Flush out the fake votes. Require ID. Make Voter Fraud end in 2020. Fix the system.”

What’s all the more alarming about Carano’s real-world views is the importance of her character, a rare female hero in Star Wars who doesn’t conform to the traditional gender roles or body type usually represented in the movies. On The Mandalorian, Cara Dune is a muscular ex-Rebel shocktrooper who likes a fight, especially when it means punching fascist Imperials in the face. After the end of the war, Cara chose the mercenary life over the New Republic but eventually settled down on Nevarro as its marshal.

Along the way, Cara has teamed up with Mando, a character who, despite being from an isolationist warrior cult, has shown himself to be surprisingly accepting and supportive of other cultures and belief systems, even learning to communicate with Tusken Raiders, a race often depicted as savage and cruel in Star Wars. In “The Marshal,” for example, we watch as Mando encourages Cobb Vanth to be more respectful of Tusken traditions and customs.

Pascal, who has been very vocal in his support of BLM and trans rights, is certainly a better example of the message of inclusivity Star Wars has tried to promote in its latest stories. Meanwhile, Carano has failed to grasp the message all together, personifying someone in the Star Wars galaxy who is more likely to wonder on the HoloNet whether the Empire was really all that bad.

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A post shared by Pedro Pascal he/him (@pascalispunk)

If calls for Carano’s firing lead to Disney removing her from the show, the Star Wars community could lose something important in the process: a mold-breaking character (at least in this saga) that many fans have seriously connected with. The better solution might be to recast Cara Dune, replacing Carano with a new actor while keeping the fan-favorite character.

“The Siege” subtly suggests that Cara might be ready to make a change, as she considers whether to join the New Republic’s ranks. While it’s just as possible that this could provide an easy way to write Cara off the show, a change of this magnitude to the character could also make it easier to recast the actor. This wouldn’t be the first time a popular TV show has recast a major character after all, even if recasting hasn’t happened very often in Star Wars.

Whatever happens to Cara Dune, it’s clear that we should be able to expect more from the actors who bring our favorite characters to life. Or at least the bare minimum — like not discrediting science in the middle of a deadly pandemic.

#FireGinaCarano for using her platform for spouting dangerous rhetoric that literally puts queer and trans BIPOC in danger. She is a racist transphobe. She has publicly shown her support and spread dangerous misinformation and conspiracy theories surrounding covid19 as well

— 💫 Lune (they/them) 🦋🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈 (@lunarsith) November 15, 2020

#fireginacarano and replace her w the ladies we actually want to see pic.twitter.com/sOmjp5Jahc

— olivia ✿ (@G0NKDROID) November 15, 2020

#FireGinaCarano and replace her with Frog Lady please. pic.twitter.com/u6yIqdBTcO

— Wren (@wrenhousevizsla) November 15, 2020

#FireGinaCarano and replace her with Ming Na Wen who is passionate about Star Wars pic.twitter.com/fQc9c1pFPc

— jews for hanleia and blm 💫 commissions open (@leiasskywalkers) November 15, 2020

Keep up with all of The Mandalorian season 2 news here.

The post The Mandalorian May Want More Cara Dune But Many Star Wars Fans Want Less Gina Carano appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[inserttemptitlehere]

An unasked for “moderate” take on TERFs v Trans rights

Nobody asked, I might get cancelled for this (probably by both sides), and honestly I don’t have much belief that this will even be read by many people. But it’s frustrating seeing people being condemned for reasonable fears and requests and I just feel the need to put my opinions out into the ether just to have them out there and so I can stop dwelling on them every time I see stuff like this happen again. 

Like, I just want to slap all the TERFs that purposefully misgender people and spout transphobic rhetoric. And I want to shake everyone who labels anything that complains about misogyny specific to cis women as TERF-y. God.

It seems like many “TERFs” are not actively malicious (although many definitely are), but are merely women who’ve been sexually assaulted or just been ground down by the patriarchy and are understandably (although not necessarily justifiably) scared/upset at the thought of any person with a male body coming into their safe spaces or into their fought for institutions. Whereas most trans people just want to live their lives and be accepted as the gender they identify as without wanting to cause any harm to anyone (although again, there are some they definitely do). 

I personally found much of JK Rowling’s recent essay to be fear mongering, but given that she suffered abuse from her husband I could understand and sympathize with why she had those fears even though I disagree with her conclusions about the actions society/government should take regarding them. I honestly just feel sad for her. I feel sad that the experiences she’s been through have made her so scared. I feel sad that despite the millions of dollars she’s donated to charity and work she’s done to make the world a better place she has now hurt so many people and this action will be what she’s remembered for. I feel sad that the extremely angry responses she’s gotten will most likely only solidify her fear and perpetuate her actions that will most likely cause more hurt for more people.

I’ll also say that her original tweet that sparked it all was valid! It is dehumanizing to reduce people to their genitals (ironically something people say TERFs do) and it erases the fact that almost all of these people are targeted because they are women. And it feels somewhat sexist as I’ve never seen an article refer to a certain group as “penis havers” or “semen producers”. I can, however, still see how it would be exclusive however to only refer to “people who menstruate” as “women”. A better wording would’ve been “women and trans men”. Because then no one would be left out. And don’t @ me about that somehow leaving out ‘trans women’, because guess what, there are cis women who don’t menstruate! If we can recognize that “Not all men” is a bad take, why on earth are we accepting “Not all women” as a correct one?

Look, not all cis women menstruate. Not all cis women can or do become pregnant. But we still label these as generic ‘women’s issues’ because they affect a large portion of women. But it should go both ways! I believe that makes the gross femininity trans women need to perform to qualify for hormones a ‘women’s issue’ and the difficulty of getting insurance to cover said hormones a ‘women’s issue’. Because they’re issues that affects a large portion of women. Heck, I know most Transmen find the fact that some TERFs include them in their feminism irritating, but I’m also fine with including specific issues affecting the ones that don’t feel that way as ‘feminist issues’.

I am 100% against misgendering people, am 100% supportive of including trans women’s specific issues as part of the overall fight to help women, and I will happily state “transwomen are women”. But, I do agree that there are a handful of cis women spaces/institutions that it becomes morally grey to accept transwomen into without any sort of provisions. Especially given the fact that if there were absolutely zero strings attached to legally identifying a certain way, then there are definitely cis people who would abuse the system. Personally, I don’t think we should completely structure our society based on these fears - although I can again understand the people who have not had as privileged of a life as I have feeling differently (even if I ultimately disagree with them).

Anyway my take on said spaces/institutions:

Bathrooms: Single parents of opposite sexed kids already use the opposite gendered bathroom to teach them how to use it (and should be allowed to). If a cis man wants to rape you in a bathroom that you’re alone in, I don’t think the societal norms are really going to stop him. And since trans people just want to use the bathroom in peace, let them. Maybe it’s because I’ve never felt comfortable peeing in public and thus never felt the bathroom to be a ‘safe space’, but I’ve never understood the argument against this.

Changing rooms: Go where you identify. If you start acting like a creep, then there should be some course of action to either get you banned or limit your access to said changing room. That policy should hold for cis or trans people.

Women’s support groups: Already made my opinion on this clear I hope. Although I will say that if talk about certain genitalia/bodily functions is triggering, it’s not right to shut down all discussion regarding those things for the other people there. Instead we should have, you know, trigger warnings so that everyone can either prepare themselves accordingly or leave the room and no one is triggered or feels like they are unable to talk about their issues.

Rape shelters: It is 100% valid for a cis woman that was a victim of rape to not want to share their space with someone with a working penis. If there is absolutely nothing that can be done to make said person feel safe, then it should be the right of the shelter to refuse long term stay to the person causing that issue (through no fault of their own) - although the shelter should do everything it can to make sure the trans woman has a place to stay/go. On the other hand, if a trans woman was already there before such a victim, it would not be right to toss out the trans woman to grant access to the cis woman who has the problem with them.

Sports: I personally don’t know enough of the science behind it, but it seems to me that bare minimum they shouldn’t be allowed to compete without doing hormone therapy. And even then the skeletal differences and remaining hormonal differences may still prevent things from being reasonably fair (although I wouldn’t know). It’s definitely not fair to let a trans person pre-hormones compete on the team their gender matches with. Honestly, in an ideal world we’d somehow have an objective way to sort sports into co-ed groups based on athletic ability similar to how weight classes work for wrestling.

Prisons: Non violent crime? Go where you identify. Violent crime? Sorry, gotta go based on your sex (unless you’ve had bottom surgery). It is immoral to lock a convicted rapist with a penis in a cell with women who have no way of getting away from them. I mean, maybe we could have ‘wings’ for trans people so they could go to the prison they identify as and they’d just have separate cells. But until that becomes the norm, the few violent trans criminals should not be allowed to go where they identify.

Kids: Not an institution, but definitely a hot topic. Personally, I think only puberty blockers until they hit adulthood and extensive therapy to make sure that they are in fact trans. Admittedly JK Rowling’s essay about this bit sounded a bit like, “The spooky trans cult is coming for your neurodivergent and gay children!” But it did have small feeling of truth to it as well. As a GNC, cis, autistic woman who had dysphoria as a teen I also worry that I might have been incorrectly diagnosed as trans if I’d been born later. But I don’t think it’s something we as a society need to be extremely worried about or use as an excuse to make things harder on trans kids and adults. We just need to make sure that kids get the therapy they need to sort out whether they’re trans or just having the common dysphoria you have as a teen and chafing against gender roles. We can rubber stamp adults if they want, it’s only kids that should have to go through some minor hoops.

Finally, on being “Gender Critical”. I have to say, the idea of smashing the concept of gender and everybody just living as they are with no societal expectations for them to be one way or another based loosely on their biological sex sounds wonderful. I’m just upset that so many who support this concept are so transphobic because technically in that future there would be no ‘trans’ people (except those that suffer dysphoria) and they feel this gives them the right to act horribly towards trans people. I did recently talk to some TRAs who explained to me that, unlike ‘Gender Critical’ proponents, their ‘gender’ model is split into multiple components. That you’ve got your biological sex (your parts), your gender identity (what you feel you are), your gender presentation (how you dress and act), and gender roles (how society expects you to act based on your gender). So it seems to me, that we can still reach a version of that wonderful future that doesn’t erase people. Smashing gender roles and the idea that there is a ‘correct’ way to present as a gender would achieve ‘female liberation’ while still allowing for people who still desire to identify a certain way. We shouldn’t completely do away with gender, just the things that society expects from it. 

[evohealed]

◀ VILLAIN REX: VERSE 1 ▶

It started off in a way nobody expected.

It was the same old song and dance as usual. Rex fighting the Pack, Providence encouraging Rex to act like a weapon, White Knight barking out commands constantly ... and for a long time, the living weapon was totally okay with this. But there is one small difference in this au. In CANON, Van Kleiss did originally try to taunt Rex about the fact that nobody cares about him. He, however, only did this once. But IN THIS AU? He keeps doing it. Every time they meet ( which is REALLY often!! ) Van Kleiss is spouting off about how they’re treating Rex like shit. White Knight also never shuts up about how they should have killed him when he was a kid and hearing about the tons of murder attempts by wk on him and recalling only one it makes him even worse And the scariest part to Rex?

Van Kleiss is absolutely right.

Rex can't get those comments out of his head. The more they say it, the more he realizes they’re true, even if he doesn’t wanna accept it and admit it to himself. But nobody treats him like a real kid, aside from Noah & Holiday. And that honestly makes him sick to his stomach. Why can’t he be normal? Why can’t he be treated well? He doesn’t understand, and that’s what drives him to snap as he looks through old journals and reads over the things he’s written. All of his experiences at Providence are not okay, what with lab testing, WK’s murder attempts, the way that everyone refuses to listen to a damn word he says ... What nobody expects is Rex getting so worked up over being treated right and normal for once that he turns against the organization himself and gets an iron grip on everything JUST to show them what it feels like to be the tool. So basically... his philosophy becomes, “For once, I am the person and you people are the tools, and you're gonna do what I say or I'm gonna YEET your ass off this planet.” 

Is there anyone who can get him out of his trauma and emotionally fueled terror reign on the world? Maybe, maybe not... depends if he gets the fufillment he wants out of being treated like a human, but he finds he enjoys playing around and controlling everything like a toy. And, because he's also canonically AMAZINGLY good at manipulation and acting when he wants or needs to be, that would be... MUCH worse for everyone! Because he’s so good with manipulation, he could easily manipulate anyone he wants however he wants. Mankind included, if his reach extends that far. He could play off the emotions of others, cause infighting with subtle, unnatural ease... He can and will reduce them to tools and make them treat him like a real person. Because they all treated him like the tool for as long as he can remember, and he’s SICK of it. 

But he’s doing it because he wants to prove Providence is the bad guy. He doesn’t realize he’s stooped to their level, he doesn’t realize that he’s universally feared, or that he’s pushing so much propaganda. Once WK is out of the picture, there’s NOTHING stopping him from rising the power. And coupled with the fact that Rex is pretty much immortal ( bc he can’t die, the nanites don’t / won’t let him ) and also REALLY powerful with all his builds, NOBODY can oppose him. He just plays everyone like a puppet, having fun treating them the way he was treated. All without ever realizing he's stooped to their level. All while believing he’s still the hero, and in the right, despite everyone absolutely FEARING him. Everyone he knows and loves turns against him, and he doesn’t understand why, either.

What a mess. 

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

Another thing I don’t see discussed often enough when debunking new age or attempting to is astral projection, personally I think it is a very vivid lucid dream. Your thoughts?

While I’m willing to grant that these people experienced something, we have no good reason to accept that it was some kind of out-of-body consciousness.

This falls into the vicinity of the myth of the “soul.”

https://religion-is-a-mental-illness.tumblr.com/tagged/myth-of-the-soul

We know enough about both the human brain and consciousness to know that the two are inextricably linked, and that notions like “souls” or disembodied consciousness are like the 1001st piece in a 1000-piece jigsaw. It doesn’t fit into what we do know or serve any purpose, either in function or explanation.

We know how memories are stored and how emotions manifest. An experience outside the body would, necessarily, be without access to the memory storage and retrieval functions of the physical brain, to access existing memories (e.g. recognition of people and places), or the ability to store new ones. It would be absent access to the neurochemicals responsible for joy, fear, anger, etc. Otherwise, it wasn’t outside your body. A claim like “I remember my out-of-body experience” or “I felt peaceful” is therefore self-refuting.

Descriptions of the "non-physical” and the “immaterial” world, and how science can’t detect everything, and how you’re too hung up on evidence and too limited by what you can see will sound familiar. It’s the same nonsense you get from god-believers when they describe their god as being indistinguishable from non-existent, while simultaneously saying they do know it’s there, but won’t explain how or why.

You’ll hear this sort of talk from new-agers who are fiercely anti-”organized religion,” and yet spout the same claims of supernatural knowledge, personal experience, and greater understanding, yet immunity from the burden of proof as any religionist. It’s the exact same thing.

https://religion-is-a-mental-illness.tumblr.com/tagged/spiritual-not-religious

The idea that this experience “feels real” is somehow supposed to be enough. But how considering the “feels real” feelings are being evaluated by the same brain that generated the experience in the first place, this is of no value. We determine what is real by independent verification, not based on the unreliability of emotions and “lived experience.” Just because you can drive the car doesn’t mean you’re qualified to diagnose its odd behaviour.

It’s funny that we accept that someone could do something unusual - like lift a car - in circumstances of extreme stress or anxiety, or even drug use, but nobody ever claims to be a superhero as a result of it. Or at least, we don’t take it seriously. We understand it’s the result of unusual brain activity and neurochemicals that induced it, even if the mechanism isn’t very well understood. And nobody seems to argue this.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hysterical_strength

And yet, people see something unusual - like themselves on the operating table, or flying through the centre of the galaxy - and claim it’s a really, true power, and you’re just close-minded and cynical for suggesting it was something reasonable but mundane and mortal, like a dream suggested to you by the same person guiding you to induce this “astral” experience in the first place.

We should ask them why they refuse to use their totally not-fake abilities to find hikers lost in the mountains, or locate survivors in the latest natural disaster, or help the police in a hostage situation. It’s pretty shitty that they have this completely not-imaginary power, but won’t use it to help in life and death situations. They should at least be making a killing on Storage Wars, astrally projecting into the storage locker to see if it’s worth anything.

Instead, what you find is excuses - that it already is proven but skeptics won’t accept it, and contradictorily, that to expect “evidence” is to be too fixated on the physical world and not “open” to other possibilities. While being unable to describe or even define any of these possibilities, or how they could come to know or understand them.

If it was actually real, someone would be rich, having proved it and claimed millions in multiple supernatural/paranormal challenges, have paparazzi abandoning the Kardashians in order to be the first to report on their every revelation. Because literal magic is confirmed real.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_prizes_for_evidence_of_the_paranormal

But it isn’t.

[tomeandflickcorner]

Umbrella Academy Rewatch 1x09

1x01 1x02 1x03 1x04 1x05 1x06 1x07 1x08

Last episode left us with a pretty big cliffhanger, with Allison grievously injured.  So how does this episode resolve that?

Before we get to that resolution, the episode gives us a flashback to 1993, before Reginald started suppressing Vanya’s powers with her medication.  Back then, Vanya appeared to be a bit of a picky eater, absolutely refusing to eat her oatmeal.  Can’t say I blame her, of course.  I never cared for oatmeal, either.  But, rather than meet her halfway and come up with an alternative nutritious breakfast that she would eat (because it’s completely okay to not like certain foods), the nannies Reginald hired to take care of the Hargreeves Siblings’ daily needs attempted to use every trick in the book to force her to eat her oatmeal. This always led to Vanya’s powers bursting out of her, resulting in the hired nannies all meeting an untimely end, much to Reginald’s disappointment.  So, after losing an undetermined number of nannies, Reginald ended up constructing Grace, who the Hargreeves Siblings would eventually view as their mother.  When Grace attempted to get Young Vanya to eat her oatmeal, she was sent flying across the room like all the other nannies.  But, since Grace was a robot, she could simply get back to her feet and dust herself off, completely unfazed.  The sight of Grace being able to readjust her head, which had been knocked 180 degrees around when she collided with the far wall, manages to scare Young Vanya into obedience, with her wordlessly eating her oatmeal as Reginald looked on in satisfaction.

We then flash forward to the present day.  Harold/Leonard has brought Vanya back to his place after the incident at the cabin.  He announces that they have to hurry and pack up their things, as they’re going to have to go on the run.  Although, when he notices that Vanya is still in shock over what just happened, he brings her into the bathroom to clean her up, seeing as she’s still covered in Allison’s blood.  As Harold/Leonard washes the blood off Vanya’s hands, he tells her that the other Hargreeves Siblings will surely view her as an enemy now and come after her to avenge Allison’s death.  Vanya is still a bit shell-shocked, but she doesn’t share that viewpoint.  She’s sure that, if she just explains to her brothers that it had just been an accident, then they’ll understand.  Harold/Leonard, however, tells her that he’s the only one on her side, the only one who sees how special she is, and how her brothers will never understand.  Which is a pretty chilling line, considering working to completely isolate someone from their friends and family is practically the first chapter in the abusive relationship handbook.

Elsewhere, the Hargreeves Brothers have brought the injured Allison back to the Umbrella Academy mansion.  Which doesn’t seem like the most logical destination.  Why didn’t they just bring her to the hospital?  Considering Allison was losing a a lot of blood, time was clearly of the essence. I’m willing to wager that hospital we saw in the last episode was closer to Grandma Jenkins’ cottage than the mansion was.  Regardless of how it doesn’t make much logical sense, they carry Allison inside, where Grace is quick to start administering first aid.  Grace announces that, for Allison to survive, someone is going to have to donate some blood.  Immediately, all the Hargreeves Brothers volunteer.    Though Pogo informs Luther that, due to Reginald’s serum that had given him his ape body, his blood is more compatible with Pogo than to Allison.  Pogo also states Klaus’ blood is likewise off the table, as his blood is too contaminated with drugs.  (Question- does Pogo not realize Klaus has achieved sobriety?  So doesn’t that mean his blood is clean now?  Or do the chemicals from drugs remain in the blood for a longer period of time?   Granted, I do see from the website for the American Red Cross that people who used intravenous drugs must wait three months before they can be allowed to donate blood, but I don’t recall any evidence that Klaus took heroin or anything like it.  We only saw him popping pills.)  In any event, Diego is the one who is selected to donate his blood, even though he faints at the sight of the needle.  Which is rather unusual, when you think about it.  The man whose entire schtick is throwing knives can’t handle needles?  How’s that for irony?

A little while later, Klaus is in his room, searching for something.  Ghost Ben appears and is clearly disappointed when he learns that Klaus is looking for more drugs.  And he doesn’t hesitate to voice that disappointment, stating that Klaus has finally managed to achieve sobriety for the first time in a while and questions why he’d just throw it all away.  To this, Klaus vents his frustrations.  Yes, he managed to get sober, but what’s the point of staying that way?  He hasn’t been able to make contact with Dave and his siblings still treat him like a screwup.  (Perhaps Pogo turning down his offer to donate his blood for Allison hurt him more than he let on.)  Klaus says that if nobody takes him seriously anyway, then he’d rather just be numb.  Ghost Ben tells Klaus that he’s tired of seeing him give in to defeat and that he’s better than that.  He even goes so far as to say that Dave knew he was better than that, too. But Klaus still doesn’t listen and ends up popping some pills into his mouth.  Before Klaus can swallow, however, Ghost Ben punches him hard across the face, resulting in the pills flying out of his mouth. This act visibly stuns both of them.  Because, as we’ve already established, Ben is a ghost.  He’s not physically there, and therefore cannot make direct contact with anyone.  Episode 7 even highlighted this fact by showing us that Klaus could walk right though him.  So how was Ghost Ben’s fist able to connect with Klaus just now?  Ghost Ben surmises that it must have been Klaus who made it possible.  Does this have something to do with Klaus’ true potential that Reginald hinted at during Klaus’ out-of-body experience?

Downstairs, The Hargreeves Brothers are discussing their next move.  Diego is fully ready to go after Harold/Leonard, believing that he was responsible to Allison’s injury, and that it’s imperative that they do whatever they can to save Vanya from him.  Number 5, on the other hand, while he does say he’s concerned for Vanya’s safety, believes their first priority should be taking down Harold Jenkins, as the apocalypse is supposed to happen that very day.  And if they can’t stop it, Vanya will die anyway, along with everyone else in the world.  So Diego and Number 5 start to head out to find Harold/Leonard.  Klaus, still trying to wrap his head around what had happened with him and Ghost Ben, tries to duck out.  But Diego indirectly threatens him into tagging along by throwing one of his knives at him, with the knife just barely missing Klaus’ crotch.  

Over at Harold/Leonard’s place, Vanya is unable to stop reliving her last terrible interaction with Allison.  Trying to settle her nerves, she heads over to the sink to splash some water on her face.  But when she reaches for a towel to dry off, she ends up knocking Harold/Leonard’s bag off the counter, causing Reginald’s stolen journal to slip out.  When Vanya opens the journal to read it, she finds all the information Reginald had written about her.  She instantly realizes that, if Harold/Leonard had that journal in his possession, it means he must have known all about her powers this the whole time.  And that means he was just manipulating her from the very start.  So she confronts Harold/Leonard about the matter.  Harold/Leonard tries to worm his way out of it by spouting off a bunch of flowery lines, about how Reginald had been afraid of her and put her on those pills because he didn’t believe she could learn to control him, how he was the only one who believed in her and embraced her for who she really was, etc. etc.  But it seems that Vanya’s trust in him has been broken.  Remembering what Allison had tried to tell her before, she asks him who Harold Jenkins is.  Realizing the jig is up, Harold/Leonard drops the nice guy act and, when Vanya tries to get away, he physically stops her while angrily asking her what her family ever did her her, as well as asking her who helped her get first chair in the orchestra.  He asks if she really believed the spot opened up on its own, all but directly admitting that he murdered Helen to pave the way for Vanya.  Naturally, Vanya is horrified by this revelation and tries even harder to get away from him.  In the end, when Harold/Leonard realizes that he’s forever lost his physiological grip on Vanya, he begins deriding her, stating that perhaps Reginald had been right.  Perhaps she really was too weak and pathetic to control her own powers.  As you might expect, Harold/Leonard’s cruel berating leads to Vanya tapping into her powers, with her creating a whirlwind of multiple sharp objects that collides with Harold/Leonard, resulting in his death.  Vanya looks coldly down at his body and walks out without even shedding a tear.

Sometime later, Diego, Klaus and Number 5 find Harold/Leonard’s body.  Number 5 tries out the glass eye he’s been carrying around for all this time by inserting it into Harold/Leonard’s empty eye socket.  In doing so, he confirms that this is indeed the man who was supposed to have brought about the apocalypse.  So, now that he’s dead, it looks like they don’t have to worry about that anymore.  But Number 5 isn’t satisfied.  He can’t accept it had been this easy, and wonders who killed Harold/Leonard.  He then teleports off as Klaus suggests finding Vanya so they can ask her about it.  Diego figures she might have headed back to the Umbrella Academy mansion, so they decide to go back there.

Back at the mansion, Grace has finished tending to Allison’s injury, as Luther keeps vigil nearby.  It seems as if Allison will live, but Grace announces her vocal cords were badly damaged, and there’s no way to tell if she’ll be able to talk again.  Pogo suggests that Luther go get some rest, but Luther snubs the advice, announcing that Pogo is the last one he’d take advice from.  It’s clear he’s still angry at Pogo for keeping so many secrets from them.  Once they’re alone, Luther apologies to the unconscious Allison for not being there when she needed him, realizing that, if he had gone with her, Diego and Number 5 when they headed out to find Harold Jenkins instead of staying behind to look for his old moon mission reports, Allison wouldn’t have had to go off on her own.

Meanwhile, since they’ve determined Vanya hadn’t shown up at the mansion, Diego decides to head off again.  He still wants to settle his score with Hazel and Cha-Cha.  After he leaves, Number 5 starts grilling Klaus, asking him if Reginald told him anything more about the apocalypse when he’d spoken to him during Klaus’ out-of-body experience.  However, Klaus only wants to figure out more about how to continue to advance his ability, as he’s concluded that the fact that Ghost Ben was able to punch him had something to do with Reginald’s hint that Klaus’ true power went beyond simply communicating with the dead.  So he tries to ask Number 5 how he managed to figure out how to time travel on top of his ability to teleport.  As this conversation continues, Klaus informs Number 5 that they’re both addicts.  Number 5 denies this, but Klaus insists it is true- Number 5 has become addicted to stopping the apocalypse.  So much so that, now that it looks as if they’ve successfully stopped it, Number 5 is unable to accept that, as he no longer has a purpose in life.

Of course, we can’t forget we also have the subplot with Hazel, Cha-Cha and Agnes to deal with.  Agnes arrives back at her motel room at the bird sanctuary.  Hearing someone in the bathroom, she grows elated, thinking that Hazel had returned.  Only for her to find it isn’t Hazel.  Cha-Cha has managed to track her down.  Valiantly, Agnes tries to tell her that Hazel left her and isn’t coming back, but it’s clear Cha-Cha doesn’t buy it.

Hazel, not knowing the danger Agnes is in, comes to the Umbrella Academy mansion to seek an audience with Number 5.  Number 5 allows Hazel to come in and they begin to talk civilly for a bit.  But right when Number 5 asks him directly why he’s there, Hazel doesn’t get a chance to answer.  Because Diego appears quite literally out of nowhere and begins whaling on Hazel.  At first, Number 5 tries to tell Diego to calm down and just give Hazel a chance to speak, but Diego is past the point of being reasoned with.  So Number 5 just sits back and watches the fight continue for a bit.  (Hazel, to his credit, manages to get a few good hits in himself.)  Eventually, though, Number 5 decides things have gone on long enough, and he interferes, breaking up the fight by smashing some glass object over Diego’s head, knocking him out. Now that he’s able to get a word in edgewise, Hazel announces that he’s left The Commission and wants to volunteer to help stop the apocalypse.  Number 5 tells him that it’s too late, as the apocalypse has been successfully prevented with Harold Jenkins’ death.  So Hazel breaths a sigh of relief, knowing he can now have a long, happy life with Agnes.  He and Number 5 then elect to part ways in peace, with them wishing each other luck with the rest of their lives.  Before Hazel leaves, however, Number 5 announces that he has one last question for his former adversary- which of them killed Detective Patch.  Hazel states that Cha-Cha was the one who murdered her.  He then gives Number 5 the gun Cha-Cha used to kill her so Diego’s name could be cleared.  When Diego wakes up again, Hazel is long gone.  Number 5 tells him that, now that the apocalypse has been prevented, its time to stop fighting.  But Diego’s rage hasn’t subsided, still wanting to go after Hazel.  Even after Number 5 tells him that Cha-Cha was the one who killed Detective Patch, Diego insists it doesn’t matter, as Hazel was also there that night.  Therefore, in Diego’s eyes, Hazel is equally guilty.  But in the end, Number 5 is able to talk sense into Diego by helping him remember that the thing he liked best about Detective Patch was that she always saw the good inside people.  So him killing Hazel and Cha-Cha would be a poor way to honor her memory.  With his point made, Number 5 leaves the room with Delores, leaving Diego with Cha-Cha and Hazel’s guns, which could be used to clear his name, as ballistics would match the bullets found at the crime scene with the ones used in Cha-Cha’s gun.

We then see Vanya has returned to her apartment,  Upon her arrival, she listens to the messages on her answering machine.  As a result, she finally is able to hear the voicemail Allison left her a few episodes ago, about how she only wanted to be a good sister to her, and that she loves her.  Hearing this message, combined with the fact that Vanya thinks she killed Allison, leaves her devastated, especially when she sees the strings on her violin bow are still stained with Allison’s blood.  She breaks down into tears, sobbing openly.

Back at the Umbrella Academy mansion, Allison has regained consciousness.  But because of the damage to her vocal cords, she cannot speak, as Grace predicted.  So she signals to Luther, who is still keeping vigil at her side, for a pen and paper.  When he complies, Allison hurriedly writes him a message, attempting to inform him that Vanya actually has powers.  Luther doesn’t really understand what Allison is trying to say, but Pogo, who had been within earshot, decides that there’s no point in keeping it covered up anymore.  So he tells Luther the truth about Vanya.

So, by the time Vanya is able to bring herself to return to the mansion herself, Luther knows all about what really happened.  And he is the one who meets her upon her arrival.  He tells her that Allison survived, and Vanya is relieved by this.  She then explains that she and Allison had gotten into an argument and things had simply gotten out of control.  Vanya tells Luther that she hadn’t meant to hurt Allison, and that it had been an accident.  Luther assures her that he knows it was an accident, and then holds out his arms in a clear invitation for a hug.  Tearfully, Vanya moves into the hug, once again saying she was sorry.

But then, things abruptly go downhill, as Luther immediately starts squeezing Vanya, utilizing his super strength against her until she passes out.  When Vanya comes to again, she is nothing short of horrified to find herself in the same soundproof room Reginald placed her in when she was 4.  When she sees Luther, Diego and Klaus standing outside the room, she tries to call out to them.  But because the room is soundproofed, they cannot hear what she’s saying, and she also can’t hear them.

Outside, it seems that Luther has already told Diego and Klaus about Vanya’s powers.  They are both in disbelief at the revelation.  However, it soon becomes clear that they are both against the idea of keeping Vanya locked up like this.  After all, this is their sister, who always cried when they stepped on ants as kids.   Diego declares that if Vanya does indeed have powers, it’s obvious that she needs their help now.  And they can’t help her if she’s locked in a cage.  Klaus is in agreement with this sentiment, adding that Vanya is most likely struggling with her new power, which must be scary for her to deal with after years of believing she was ordinary.  Allison, who has also made her way down to the soundproof room, states through written message that she wants Luther to let Vanya out of her cell, too, stating that what happened had been her own fault, not Vanya’s.  But, despite all of this, Luther digs his heels in, stating Vanya is a danger to herself and others.  So she must stay put until they know how to deal with it.  He then all but forces Allison and his brothers to walk away, leaving Vanya alone as she pounds on the door, screaming that she’s sorry.

Okay.  I gotta say this.  I was pretty much on the fence about him up until this point, neither liking or hating him.  But this moment made up my mind about him.  Out of all the Hargreeves Siblings, Luther is the one I like the least.  I don’t care if he was trying to think about what was best for everyone.  I don’t care if he was just trying to keep everyone safe.  At the end of the day, Luther is supposed to be the leader of the team.  But this scene made it clear to me that he is the worst candidate for team leader.  Because a real leader isn’t just about being the one in charge and forcing everyone to go along with your decisions.  A true leader also has to listen to the rest of their teammates.   And if the rest of your team is all in agreement about something, you don’t get to just overrule them as if your word automatically vetoes theirs.  So much for sentiment they had back in Episode 4, when they were deciding things with a vote.  Because if they were still honoring those rules, then Luther would be outvoted.  Yes, Number 5 wasn’t around to voice his thoughts on the matter, but I have a hard time believing that Number 5 would be okay with Luther’s decision to lock Vanya up like this.  Especially since it was established in the first episode that he and Vanya were once pretty close themselves.  After all, when Number 5 disappeared when he got trapped in the future,  Vanya was the one who left the lights on for him in case he ever came back during the night, also leaving out a peanut butter and marshmallow sandwich for him every night.  And it was Vanya who Number 5 sought refuge with following his run-in with the first batch of temporal assassins at Griddy’s Donuts.  But even IF Number 5 sided with Luther on this one, it would still have been three to two in favor of letting Vanya out.  But instead, Luther is all ‘I’m team leader, so I get to have the final say in everything.’ As far as I’m concerned, Luther is going to have to perform a pretty epic makeup for this before he can be redeemed in my eyes.

Anyway, another drama is going down elsewhere.  Hazel arrives back at the bird sanctuary to rejoin Agnes.  But when he enters their motel room, he is met with a chilling scene.  Cha-Cha has tied Anges to a chair positioned in front of the hot tub embedded in the motel room floor.  All Cha-Cha has to do is pull the rope she’s holding, and Agnes will be pulled back into the hot tub to drown.  Hazel tells Cha-Cha that she can do whatever she wants to him, as long as she lets Agnes go.  To this, Cha-Cha states that she fully intends to kill him, but first, she’s going to make him watch as Agnes dies.  Before Cha-Cha can do anything, however, Hazel lunges forward and a full-on fist fight erupts between him and Cha-Cha, with both of them during a deaf ear to Agnes’ pleas for them to stop.  After this goes on for a while, Cha-Cha manages to get the upper hand over Hazel, wrapping a cord around his throat until he no longer has the energy to fight back.  She then leaves Hazel lying on the floor, gasping for breath, and heads back to Agnes, instructing him to watch as she forces her back into the hot tub.

Before Agnes can hit the surface of the water, however, time suddenly stops and everything freezing in place, with only Hazel and Cha-Cha being able to move about.  As Hazel and Cha-Cha look around in confusion, the door to the motel room opens and The Handler strides in, announcing they really screwed things up.  Not sure how she survived the exploding grenade with nothing but a scar, but whatever.

As this episode comes to a close, we see the Hargeeves Siblings as they try to take stock of everything that’s happened.  Luther tries to convince Allison that he did what he had to do, but she’s not having it, proceeding to give him the cold shoulder.  (Good!  He deserves it!)  Diego is sitting alone in the kitchen playing with a lucky rabbit’s foot that I guess belonged to Detective Patch, only looking up when Grace places a plate of smiley faced pancakes in front of him.  Klaus is in his room, attempting to play pat-a-cake with Ghost Ben in an effort to try and make physical contact with him again.  And Number 5 brings Delores back to the department store where he found her.  As he gets ready to leave her there, he makes a heartfelt goodbye speech to her, with him talking about how they’d been through a lot together and that he’ll never forget her.  As he turns and walks away, he requests one of the people working at the department store to give Delores something new to wear, stating she likes sequins. Naturally, the department store worker is visibly confused by this but says nothing.

But then, as the episode wraps up, we see Vanya down in the soundproof room.  As she gives into despair, she has some sort of mental breakdown, with her reflection on the glass door being replaced by the image of her younger self.  The Young Vanya Hallucination declares that the others are still scared of them and their power.  The hallucination, apparently voicing Vanya’s darkest thoughts, encourages Vanya to accept the fact that the other Hargreeves Siblings are just like Reginald and will keep her down there forever, so the only thing they can do is embrace who they are.  That’s when Vanya notices there is one sound the soundproof room cannot muffle- the sound of her own heartbeat.  So she ends up using that sound to activate her power, successfully breaking herself out of her cell.  The sound of the door to the soundproof room crashing down is so loud, it can be heard throughout the mansion, with Luther instantly realizing what it means.

Final notes/questions

Seriously, how did The Handler survive the explosion?

What’s going to happen with Hazel and Cha-Cha?  And will Agnes make it out okay?

Boy, Luther really botched that one.  He should had listened to Diego, Klaus and Allison.  Now Vanya is on the warpath.

No, I’m sorry, I’m still peeved with Luther.  After all the indications that Reginald was the worst person in making judgement calls (sending Luther up to the moon for no real reason other than just giving him something to do, committing suicide and making it look like a murder mystery to trick everyone to reunite and lying to them all about Vanya’s powers, among other things), and was therefore not someone anyone should be emulating, he still thought copying his methods by locking Vanya up in the soundproof room was the way to go?

Is Klaus going to be able to master his new ability?

[lizzybeth1986]

I've been thinking about this statement of TRR writers that so many of them would date/marry Hana, and how it isn't reflected in the way the story is written, and then it finally hit me, that it's probably true but in the most depressing way. Because it's probs not about the fact that they love Hana-the-character, but about the fact that they've written Hana as the perfect bride, the always supportive, loyal and good at everything spouse, and it makes me feel really icky now.

Thank you so much for that very observant insight, @bubblygothzombie! That is a very real possibility, and it would make sense considering that whenever Hana is spoken about, she's spoken about in terms of skills and perfection. Which is harmful - because often the narrative has the characters spout these "Perfect Hana" tidbits so they don't have to bother with actual characterization. Case in point? Look at the the descriptives given to each LI if you decide to do a non-imported playthrough:

[[MORE]]

Notice how every other character has their most obvious character trait (Dashing. Sarcastic. Humorous) followed by a descriptor of their loyalty (Honourable. Steadfast. Loyal). Hana's descriptors are literally just her beauty and her skills. Why not "devoted"? Or "dedicated"?

That descriptor sounds so impersonal, especially when you take into account that she left her home and family for us...twice. Placed herself in a difficult situation where she was vulnerable to bullying and cruelty. And still stays by our side and does an incredible amount of work for us even though she gets nothing but dust in return. If that is not loyalty then what is?

But no, Hana will never be known for that. She will be known for her 'niceness' and her usefulness. The writers haven't really cared to explore her much beyond that, and it's sad because there is so much simmering under the surface with her!

The other thing that more often than not leads me to believe in a lack of caring from the writing team, is the fact that they will not hesitate to place Hana in horrific situations...but will rarely (if ever) give her the space to actually talk about what she is going through - not unless the MC gets to go on her own ego trip being this woman's "savior". I'm beginning to realize that most of Hana's scenes in Book 1 - while poignant and beautifully written - were probably written that way so the MC could be placed on a pedestal in Hana's eyes.

The more I think about Book 2 (and Book 3 too) from Hana's perspective, the more disturbing it seems. Liam is the one who brings Hana back to the court, not Madeleine. Who tells us this? Not Liam who made the deal. Not Hana who heard it from him personally, accepted it, and returned for the MC's sake at her own personal risk. It's Drake. DRAKE's scene tells us that Liam arranged for Hana to return.

In the meantime what happens? Hana never gets to personally acknowledge that Madeleine wasn't responsible for her return, and is therefore expected to be publicly grateful and obedient to her future Queen without whose benevolence "she'd still be on the other side of the world". Hana is not allowed to contest this by the narrative, even in private.

Madeleine is allowed to use the fact that no one knows who was responsible for her return, against Hana...but Hana is never allowed on her own to tell the truth or even push back (and we know from that diamond scene where she tells off Olivia that she can push back on her own terms). She's placed in a very, very dangerous situation where the woman in power can abuse and threaten her, right up till the point where her mental health is affected (the aftermath of the chocolate episode shows her breaking down, and her friends need to come in, comfort and distract her. Shortly after this, Madeleine reveals that she did it to "break" Hana - which is seen as 'fun'. The MC herself this and confronts Madeleine about it).

How is this addressed in the story? By having Madeleine pass off her actions as a hazing ritual, which the MC doesn't bother to contest even though she knows better. The MC doesn't even try to warn Hana, doesn't even attempt to protect her. Even that one time we can call out Madeleine on her behaviour in Italy, is an option. The MC can choose to keep quiet as well and therefore keep Hana completely in the dark.

In that final scene in Book 3 where Madeleine confesses to Hana the motive behind her bullying, the MC behaves as though this is brand new information, even though she heard her words in Italy that night, loud and clear.

Later, the books try to cast Madeleine in a more sympathetic light, and in a bid to do so try to completely erase this episode. The one rare time it is (vaguely) mentioned, Madeleine says this:

I'm sure she's willing to let bygones be bygones. That's what this was reduced to, up until people spoke out against the possibility of Madeleine being Hana's potential love interest.

Why was Hana not allowed to push back, given that she clearly knew Liam's involvement in her return?? Because no one writing the story seemed to want to give her the edge over a figure like Madeleine. They wanted Hana under Madeleine's thumb, to never really have any power in front of her. And Madeleine isn't the only one Hana is forced into a "lesser" position around. The MC - who is her friend - not only benefits from Hana's help if she accepts it, but sometimes even takes credit (eg. the polo scene in Book 3 where she becomes popular for a move that was created by Hana). Plenty of the MC's approval points come from Hana's advice and help, and it's clear that of the two women (by default, definitely, and this is often clearer in the playthroughs where the MC fails at everything) Hana is the better courtier, and would make a much better Duchess. Yet she only gets a duchy if MC marries her, otherwise by the end of Book 2 she's basically without a proper home to call her own, without much of a position, living on someone else's charity. Even though she is "Perfect Hana" who has all the skills, and even in a case where the MC can't do anything right...the MC still gets the duchy.

Hana never actually gets what she deserves because the narrative makes her less powerful despite her skills. She had apparently 200 PinStop boards full of things she wanted for her wedding, but somehow ended up wearing a muted black dress for her own bachelorette, was declared "husband and wife" by the officiant at her own wedding, was treated like a bridesmaid+wedding planner at her own damn reception.

Olivia, for all her good traits, is allowed to get away with shitty behaviour towards Hana as well.

Perhaps one wouldn't call this bullying or harmful, but it does highlight how much of Hana's voice the narrative robs from her. Hana is allowed that one time in Book 1 to call out Olivia on her behaviour and attitude towards her. Despite paying 30 diamonds so that scene can happen, Olivia still quips in my playthrough (when Hana stands up to her father in Shanghai) about Hana "finally developing a spine". In the scene above (Book 3 Chapter 15), Hana is allowed to express anger (Wow! What progress!) but never really allowed to do anything about it. Olivia can get away with saying bullshit about her, Madeleine can get away with her bullying, Lorelei can (mostly) get away with her emotional abuse, with Hana constantly striving and working to educate her.

The even more disturbing thing is that when harm is done to other people...it is acknowledged no matter what wrong they may have done in the past, but in Hana's case the same pain isn't considered worth addressing. Madeleine's behaviour is labelled as bullying...if the victim in question is Penelope. Penelope is allowed to be disturbed by reminders of Madeleine, she is allowed to put forth demands to the group, even Drake (the same one who automatically suspects a traumatized Kiara) steps forward to tell her she is safe and Madeleine won't harm her. And if you don't coddle her exactly in the way she wants, Penelope will not travel on the Unity Tour with you, and her father will refuse to attend the wedding. Hana is never given this space, and her issues and pain are never taken this seriously.

I mean, I can somewhat understand loving a character and still making them only "perfect"...and not working so much on the imperfections for whatever reason. But in this case they slap her with the "perfect" stamp, make her blameless in most cases, and then brush aside all the wrongs done to her. How does a writing team do that to a character they claim to care about??

Tldr: The writers will publicly shower Hana with compliments and show lots of love in their interviews and livestreams and constantly call her "perfect", because it's the easiest thing to do. But the bitter fact is that when it comes right down to it they want her less powerful, less fulfilled, given less support - and they will anyday create more sympathy for the people who harmed her rather than ever acknowledge her pain or work on making things better for her. As you've stated here, it's sickening.

[glatisants]

Albion: The Legend of Arthur (Part I of XIII)

As promised, I’m starting the Audible series Albion: The Legend of Arthur. I actually don’t hate it so far! (I don’t usually have high expectations for Arthurian adaptations, but for now I’ve decided to not worry and just enjoy the ride.) Nobody asked for this, but I’m going to write up some recaps, mostly because I could find so little information on the series when I was considering trying it. And also so people who can’t get Audible can get a sense of the story. I guess we’ll see how this goes.

Note: I really wish I had a cast/character list to look at, because my spellings of the Welsh names are going to be some very shoddy guesswork.

So. Part I: Last of the Romans

It starts with a war, naturally.

First, some characters:

Arthur Pendraig is the nephew of Ambrosius Aurelianus (aka Emrys), who currently leads the Britons as one of the last Romans in the land. This take on Arthur seems to be an accomplished but hot-headed warrior who wields power through both charisma and intimidation, and is admittedly a bit of an ass.

Arthur and Owain of Rheged are Ambrosius’ best generals, and they are accomplished young warriors and close friends. For the record, they are not related in this adaptation. My impression of Owain so far is that he seems like a rather nice young man and a consistent voice of reason (and as such, I believe he is doomed).

Gwenhwyvar is an ally of Arthur’s family, skilled in leadership and battle, and a singularly powerful woman. My impression of her so far is that she’s fierce, capable, pragmatic, and very, very clever.

Medraut is Arthur’s cousin and former childhood friend/longtime companion. Arthur has grown to hate him for his betrayal to him and his allies, as Medraut believes himself to be the rightful ruler of Britain.

Anna is the daughter of Lewdwn of Gododdin. She was formerly romantically involved with Arthur, and is implied to have been involved with Medraut as well.

There’s a character whose name I am not sure of, but it kinda sounds like Cynon so that’s what I’m gonna call him. He’s Arthur’s cousin, his father Ambrosius has made it pretty clear that Arthur’s the son he always wanted (and most likely his eventual successor), and Cynon is understandably rather jealous and resentful towards Arthur.

It all starts with a battle scene, in the northern stronghold of Gododdin. Medraut wants to defeat Ambrosius and be made king, as he sees himself as the true ruler. He had stolen the Kingstone, a seemingly unremarkable stone that is used for forging swords and is seen as a symbol of rightful rule. Medraut stole it in the hopes of giving legitimacy to his blood claim. Arthur and Owain retrieve it and win the battle, but all are quick to acknowledge that Ambrosius’ victory in Goddodin would not have been possible without the aid of Gwenhwyvar and her forces. Goddodin had allied with Medraut, but when they were defeated by Ambrosius and Arthur’s forces, Medraut fled, while Anna and Lewdwn stayed for their people.

To show his gratitude, Ambrosius offers his two champions whatever they wish as a boon. Owain requests leave to return to his father’s lands (specifically to see his mother, which I’m hoping means we get to see Morgan sooner or later); Arthur only asks that he has permission to go after Medraut and take his vengeance, and Ambrosius says he shall have it.

Arthur and Ambrosius talk alone. Ambrosius talks about how Arthur has won the loyalty of his men and is popular with the people, and how Ambrosius’ hope is that if they make peace with Lewdwn, they can unite all the Britons under one banner and successfully defend themselves from the Saxons. He ends by saying, “The world is ours. Remember that.”

Then Arthur and Anna have a talk.

They knew each other in better times, “when they were little more than children,” and they have both since become jaded by their experiences in war. Anna loathes Ambrosius bc he killed her brother. Her father has made peace to keep his political allies, but she cannot.

Arthur brings up the possibility of a marriage between the two of them; he supports the idea, and thinks they’d be a good match, but Anna’s certain that things will never go back to how they used to be, and she dislikes the idea of a political marriage that would allow Ambrosius to keep his grip on her family’s lands in the north. She also lashes out and claims there are rumors of Arthur of being “more Greek than Roman” and romantically involved with Owain.

We learn that Anna’s father was baptized in the hopes of bringing Gododdin “into the light of a new age,” but Anna is implied to still hold onto her old faith. She says she hates what the powerful have done to her people, deciding all their futures and playing their bloody games. She tries to convince Arthur to take a stand alongside her and use his popular support to give power to the people, as Ambrosius has an insatiable desire for more power and has already caused too many deaths, but Arthur rejects the idea. She criticizes his grudge against Medraut, saying that their childhood rivalry has dragged the lands to the brink.

I have a feeling Anna is not surviving this story.

Owain and Gwenhwyvar meet up. Gwen doesn’t get to participate in peace talks bc she’s a woman; when Owain wonders why a woman as powerful as her has to accept those rules, she replies that she doesn’t like it but she abides by it, and she finds that it’s easier to exercise power unseen, anyway. She asks why he lets Arthur take all the credit for their victory, and he carefully deflects and says that there is no victory until the civil wars are completely behind them.

With all the lords/generals gathered, Lewdwn of Gododdin is honored for keeping the Christian faith and for agreeing to join the alliance in Britain. Since Medraut left Lewdwn to take the blame as he fled, he accepts Medraut as his enemy, swears loyalty to Ambrosius and his lands, and peace is made.

However, Anna interrupts and furiously demands that her father not accept, bc the Britons should not accept a ruler that leaves them cowed by threats of force. She refuses to be silenced, and calls her father a coward. Owain tries to intervene to persuade her to stop, but Arthur refuses to do the same. Ambrosius asks Anna to renounce her past treacheries to spare herself, but she refuses, spits on him, and is struck by him. Ambrosius declares that he will give her a day to consider his offer of mercy, or she will be put to death for treachery. She is then taken away and imprisoned in a cell. Arthur, Owain and Gwenhwyvar are worried, but Gwen tells them to keep quiet, and says there may yet be a way to save her.

The episode is bookended by an old, mad beggar man talking to us, the audience; I think we’re all genre-savvy enough to know he’s Merlin. He spouts a bunch of dire warnings, bad omens abound, and he predicts that a dragon will enter the fray, there will be many more terrible wars to come, and basically everyone will die.