#which is fine! he has plenty of other lovely attributes

[letmetellyouaboutmyfeels]

''massive flirt'' absolutely yes. ''breaking the hearts of every man in LA'' I don't dispute that he could if he wanted but FLAT ASS? Excuse u?

please ignore this ask I'm so sleep deprived

I WILL NOT BE SILENCED. I SPEAK THE TRUTH.

[brigdh]

Okay. My thoughts on the Our Flag Means Death finale. Obviously I'm not very happy with the ending, though I'm also not as upset as some people are. I would say I'm discontent. Unsatisfied. Too aware of how it could have been improved, and a bit bitter that we didn't get a better version, but I also don't hate what we did get.

I know a lot of meta has attributed the problems to a shorter season, and absolutely I would have loved to get 10 episodes instead. I would have loved 22 episodes! Why don't we do that anymore? But I don't think the 8 episode length was the ultimate problem. A) The showrunner and writers knew they had only 8 episodes, so they needed to choose a story that fit into that length, but even more importantly, B) my problem is not that they had too much story for too little time, but actually that they had plenty of time and chose to fill it with too little story.

As I've sat with it over the last few days and thought more about the season's arc, it feels to me like we got eight episodes of filler. Filler episodes can be great! Filler episodes can have some of the funniest lines, the greatest scenes, the most intriguing ideas. But filler episodes do not progress character arcs or major themes, and that's exactly the problem this season had.

The only characters who got arcs this season are Izzy, and to a lesser and more rushed extent, Lucius. Which sure is a choice.

Ed and Stede and their relationship did not meaningfully change from S1. (Okay, yes, they had sex, they said I Love You – but these are external changes, not internal. They don't represent character growth. Stede realized he loved Ed and was telling everyone back in 1x10. Ed clearly would have slept with him in S1 if they'd had a little more time.) Ed and Stede in 2x08 are not different from who they are in 2x01. If Ed had asked Stede to be innkeepers in 2x01, does anyone think Stede wouldn't have immediately agreed? One of the big moments in 2x08 is Ed reading a letter that Stede wrote in 2x01! Stede's exact words from the very beginning of the season! What better way to underline that none of the subsequent seven episodes had important growth or changes?

Another one of 2x08's big shippy moments is Ed and Stede running to each other across a beach – deliberately paralleling the dream Stede had in 2x01. What are we supposed to take from this parallel? My original thought was that we're supposed to see how different the real version is from the dream, but there's honestly not many differences. Neither one has a beard, now? The dream mocked how Stede knew they needed to have a conversation about their relationship that he wanted to avoid, but they don't have a conversation in the "real" version either. They exchange about two sentences (which includes Ed's I Love You, yes, which is a big deal but still isn't a conversation) and then they charge right back into the fight, without discussing anything like Ed abruptly dumping Stede to go be a fisherman, Stede killing Ned Low when Ed asked him not to, their differences of opinion on being pirates, if having sex was a mistake or if that's only a thing Ed said because he was panicking, etc etc. They have just as many issues to address as they did in the dream, but just like the dream they act like everything is magically okay without talking about it!

So I think we're meant to take the beach-run parallels as "here's what Stede's been wanting, and after waiting for so long he finally gets it". Which is fine, a very sweet take-away for a finale. But it underlines what I'm saying is the problem of the season: Stede has just been waiting for eight episodes for his dream to come true. Not changing. Not growing. Not doing anything to bring the dream about, other than trying to get himself and Ed into the same physical location. Just... waiting.

This is an extra surprising development, because the show was really good at giving Ed and Stede character arcs in S1! Ed and Stede in 1x10 are significantly different than they were in their first introductions. Also, just to preempt some criticism, by 'progressing' I do not mean 'wrap up literally every loose end and make a firm final ending' – S1's finale is an excellent example of both moving the characters forward and leaving a ton of room for future stories. I wasn't expecting for 2x08 to show us a Stede and Ed who were perfectly on the same page and would never again have a problem. I was expecting them to be somewhat different than they were in 2x01, and I just don't see that.

Instead of arcs, we got little pieces of single-episode growth here and there that never added up to an overall whole. The season brought up a ton of potential arcs for Ed – violence, piracy, guilt, suicide, daddy issues, self-loathing, apologies, redemption, his tendency to idealize escaping into a different life – but didn't do anything with any of these options. Stede had nothing resembling a season arc at all.

Stede works to improve as a captain! Stede kills someone and has regrets! Stede confronts Ed's dark side! <- All potential arcs, but none of which lasted for more than an episode or had consequences. We don't even know what the ending means for Stede: does he want to be an innkeeper because he failed as a pirate in 2x07? Because piracy was always just a displaced search for love, and now that he has love, he doesn't need piracy? What does the crew of the Revenge leaving mean to him? Stede's understanding of their new arrangement literally happens off-screen and we're left to fumble at guesses for its significance to him as an individual.

Ed and Stede's last big conversation in the season is their break-up fight in 2x07, which is a shocking way to send off your main couple in a rom-com. Yes, there's the I Love You on the beach (again: two sentences) and the brief 'let's try to be innkeepers' conversation at the very end, but that's it for them in 2x08, except for their inclusion in some brief large group conversations about their fighting skills and the plan for escaping the British. How can you end your rom-com with the main couple exchanging only a paragraph's worth of dialogue in the finale? None of the stuff was brought up in the fishing fight in 2x07 is ever addressed at all!

Again, I don't think this is solely a matter of time crunch. Instead of using the eight episodes to progress the two main characters, we got a bunch of filler episodes that used the time in amusing side tangents instead of forward progress. I don't think that's the inevitable result of having to work with eight episodes.

Look, I can come up with a better Ed/Stede relationship arc without needing more episodes, and despite only thinking about this for a couple days and not having an entire writing room to work with:

(Note: this only addresses the Ed/Stede relationship. It doesn't fix Stede completely lacking an independent character arc and Ed having about ten thousand of them, none of which went anywhere.)

In 2x05 to 2x07, I would make Ed's motivations in their relationship very clearly that he's pushing Stede away so he doesn't get hurt again. Basically play up Ed's comment about "I was all in" in 2x04, and make him determined not to get 'all in' this time around. This aligns the "let's take it slow" conversation in 2x05, the "sex was a mistake" in 2x06, and Ed running away to be a fisherman in 2x07 into a single arc. He wants Stede, but he's afraid of what that wanting will do to him. He's trying to find a way to have a relationship without making himself vulnerable. He keeps pushing off commitment and openness.

Then, in 2x08, I'd make it more explicit that Ed thinks/fears Stede is dead when he sees the pirate ships burning. I think it's subtext in the episode as-is, but give him a line or two to make it really clear. Ed and Stede still see each other on the beach, have their dramatic run to each other, and Ed says, "I love you". Now this moment is Ed acknowledging his love, exactly what he's been avoiding for the last three episodes.

Near the end of the episode, Ed and Stede have a conversation where Ed says something like, "I didn't want to get hurt again, I was afraid of the risk of falling in love and you leaving again, but thinking you were dead made me realize that never loving you would be worse" (but better written, ha, this is a tumblr post that's already too long). (Also possibly you could tie in Izzy's death here to underline both Ed and Stede not wanting to lose another person they care about, if we must have that plot point for some reason.) We actually get to see Ed asking Stede to come be innkeepers with him, paralleling asking him to run away to China (and paralleling NOT asking Stede to a fisherman), Stede voices some of his worries (paralleling him keeping them inside in 1x09, but also giving him a chance to explain what piracy and love mean to him and why he'd give up one for the other), but ultimately they agree that they at least want to try.

This both puts them into a much clearer place for a happy ending, has clear growth from S1 and the beginning of this season, but also leaves open a ton of room for S3, because welp, it turns out trying to have a relationship entails all sorts of problems! Especially with these two. It also would make me feel like they'd at least addressed some of the issues between them.

Right now I feel like S3 will have to spend at least the first few episodes running through exactly the same "don't talk – break up – get back together dramatically" arc that Stede and Ed have already done twice but have never discussed and never learned from. I liked it, but I don't need to see it yet again. That will – ironically – feel like yet more wasted time, more episodes that are just churning through beats without moving the characters forward. I wanted them to have new, different fights in S3, but now I don't even feel like they've made enough progress to have a fresh set of problems.

[ultfreakme]

"people who see junpei yoshino exclusively as a soft uwu boy need to remember that he once told a bully girl that she wasn’t even that pretty and the boys only wanted to fuck her. which would be kinda questionable under different circumstances. people also need to remember the scene at the movie club where he refused to leave even though he knew he would be beaten afterwards. he was a bitch to his bullies. yes he was also shy but are you normal about his shyness"

Thoughts, please?

Hi Anon! I've seen this post and I'm following OP and I totally agree! I think the JJK fandom veers in extremes when it comes to Junpei. They either call him entirely innocent or....ugh...many people keep calling him a school shooter, which, what the fuck? Like there's no middle ground when it comes to him (or any JJK character in the fandom).

I think people tend to uwu-ify him because there's this tendency to want for a 'perfect victim' character. If Junpei's a total bitch, he doesn't deserve to be saved. But Yuuji does want to save him, and we totally love Yuuji so of course Junpei must be a sweet bean! It's this unrelenting binary that leads to a lot of mischaracterization, not just for Junpei, but for plenty of JJK characters.

Junpei's got a lot of layers. He just wants to do his thing in his own corner but for some reason, the world has been cruel to him. Through it all, he tries to assert himself and find power, he's going to hit back. His very first line establishes EXACTLY what he's about. He doesn't care unless other start something (oddly enough....Megumi says something very similar when he's sitting on his throne of beat-up bullies). He is a lot more socially awkward than people like Yuuji or even his own mom, but we do see him start a film club and interact with people. I also think people attribute 'shy' to mean 'innocent'.

A majority of Junpei's social interactions that we have seen, were violent or dismissive. So I understand him being reserved. His shyness is less about personal boundaries, but more about the people around him harassing him so bad that he needs to do this to go unnoticed (and even then it doesn't work). He gets along fairly easily with Yuuji, like he's fine with people who are nice to him.

It's why I really like Junpei. He's mean, he's a fucking asshole and he'll probably fight dirty to get what he wants but he's also someone who cares and has love. He's not doing this because he wants to, this is survival.

Thank you for the ask!! Ugh I can't believe Akutami managed to cram all this depth into a character who appears for 3 episodes ;_;

[celluloidbroomcloset]

what do you think of the hc/scenario some people have of transfemme ed or genderfluid ed with a stede who still identifies as gay but loves ed? sorry if that's worded strangely, but i am curious for your thoughts

I'm gonna start with the caveats that 1) I am a cis woman and so my insights into this are limited, and 2) the way I approach headcanons is not necessarily the way that others do. I tend to want headcanons to be based in some kind of canonical evidence from which we can extrapolate the headcanon—so, for instance, the idea that Ed has never been in love until Stede, based in what we know of his past relationships, his current personality, etc. This is not how a lot of people do headcanons, which is fine. Personally I think you should headcanon anything as long as it's not something like attempting to make a character who is abusive in canon magically not abusive (Izzy and Jack).

I personally see both Ed and Stede as cis men, and I think there's ample evidence in canon for that view. However, I don't see anything wrong with headcanoning them as trans or genderfluid; there's nothing to contraindicate that. We do definitely see both of them as nonconforming, especially to the masculine standards of the time, and part of the arcs in Season 1 are about first Stede and then Ed "doing masculinity wrong" in the eyes of patriarchal characters, both in their emotional expression and in their physical attributes. In Season 2, we see Ed imagining himself as a bride—there are a lot of ways they could've shown his fantasies about marriage, but they very deliberately had him painting the bride cake topper to look like himself.

Within canon, Ed's trajectory can undoubtedly be read as a trans allegory. His struggles with identity, in terms of gender presentation, sexual desires, naming, and who he is inside vs. who he has been forced to present himself as, all very much contribute to a trans reading. (We need to note that "trans allegory" does not mean "Ed is trans in canon," though, and the allegory can apply to other identity issues as well, which is what makes it so strong and complex.)

Within canon, I think there's plenty of evidence that Ed and Stede would love each other regardless of gender identity or presentation.

[spaceorphanssecondbreakfastclub]

Reading Agatha Christie: Sparkling Cyanide

One of the things that's particularly noticeable as you read through chronologically is Christie's change in style. During the 20s and 30s, Christie's greatest attributes was the ability to write a stellar puzzle box mystery - where the mystery itself and how all the moving parts fit together were the highlight of the novel. Now that we're into her 40s writings, she's changed her focus - and character seems to be what she's interested in more than the mystery itself.

I feel like we've been seeing a lot more of these types of novels lately -- ones where she spends a good deal of time building the characters, and exploring the complex relationships between them. The murder mystery seems to service the characters.

Sparkling Cyanide has a really great introduction to all of its characters -- the set up being that a year after Rosemary Barton's death, those who were at the party where she died remember her. Not only are we introduced to all of the characters, but we get an in depth look as to who they are and how they're connected to Rosemary. We also get a good sense of who Rosemary was as each of them think back on her. The character work in the novel is great - and is easily the most compelling part of it.

The rest of the book is, as usual, trying to figure out who killed Rosemary's husband - who died in the present day, as everyone is assembled again on the anniversary of Rosemary's death. It marks the return of Colonel Race as the main detective -- whom you may not remember cause he doesn't have much personality, and is mostly known for leaving half way through stories, however he's noticeable since this will be the last time we see him. He's joined by an Inspector Kemp who, subsequently, does more of the sleuthing.

The mystery aspect is fine - and while some of it hinges on a bit too much coincidence - works as well as any other Christie novel. And, of course, there are some Christie standards - such as love triangles (omg - Christie, honey, you really were scarred weren't you) and ne'er do well scheming relationship and acquaintances. There are still plenty of Christie's old tropes, even if her writing on this one is still as good as ever.

It's a solidly good book - and an easy and light read, which makes this one far more enjoyable than the painfully dull Death Comes At The End that comes before it. Christie is on top of her game, and overall, it's a really fun read.

[queen-ofsunflowers]

Yuriko x Daichi 5,7,9,10,25,33,43,48 and 50 for the ask game

OC Ask Game - Relationships Edition!

I apologize for not answering these sooner! By the time I realized I got this one and the other one sitting in my inbox currently, it was already pretty late and I was in the middle of one of the boss fights for Innocent Sin. So I'm gonna answer them now!

I'm honestly thinking about their name being "YuriChi"...

5. What's their love language like? Are they compatible with one another?

Daichi's is acts of service. It's the best way that he knows he can express how he feels to others. Words aren't always the best, he struggles with gift-giving, and he's not really the most touchy-feely person. Doing things for the people he cares about is how he shows that yes, he actually does care.

Yuriko's, though, is quality time. Getting to spend time with her sisters was something special while she was growing up, so it became her way of showing that she loved them. Even now, just spending time in the same room as someone she loves is enough for her.

7. What do they argue about?

They don't argue about a lot of things. When they do, though, it's mostly just a debate about small topics or things that don't make much sense at all. Minato has a vague memory of his parents in the living room arguing with each other about which Shadows could beat which in a fight. Not that he understood it at the time, and only really remembered about it years later when he was fighting those same Shadows.

9. What's the most difficult thing they've gone through together?

Aside from the Ergo Labs Incident? ...It would definitely be Daichi's transfer to Shadow Research and why it happened. Daichi stood his ground on what happened, and after a very heated discussion because Daichi sucks at explaining thoughts and emotions properly, Yuriko understood why he did what he did concerning Labrys. She sided with him on the whole mess and did what she could to help him out. Daichi was kind of a mess after the fact, with it getting worse when he was told that Labrys had been destroyed.

10. How do they make up after a fight?

When they fight, it's not pretty. Daichi knows Yuriko's weak points and can hit where it hurts if he gets too heated. So the best thing to do is to make sure there's plenty of space between them so they can cool off before it gets to that point. It's usually Daichi who has to approach Yuriko after that so they can talk it out.

25. Pick a physical attribute that they love about each other.

For Yuriko, it's her husband's hands. They're rough and calloused and not really all that pretty, but they belong to a man who has worked hard to get where he is in his life. He has built and created so much, and his hands are a sign of that. His grip is firm and tight, so holding them helps her feel ground when she gets to overwhelmed.

For Daichi, it would be Yuriko's eyes. The eyes are the window to the soul, as he has learned. And he can see so many things in Yuriko's eyes with how expressive she is with them. He finds their color to be beautiful and unique, and the fact that Minato was born with them makes them even more special to him.

33. Who was the first to say 'I love you'?

This should come to no surprise, but it was Yuriko. Daichi was too emotionally stunted at the time to even think about saying it.

43. Is one more introverted/extroverted than the other?

Not intentionally, but yes. They're both on an equal level when it comes to this, but Yuriko's often a bit more outgoing than Daichi is.

48. Do they get on well with each other's family? Is family important to them?

Yuriko gets along with Daichi's parents fine. It's more of a cordial thing, though. As opposed to Daichi, who after learning how Yuriko and her sisters were raised, became very... passive-aggressive towards them. It was hard for Yukiko's parents to say anything against him, though, since they were the ones who arranged their union in the first place.

Daichi gets along great with Yuriko's sisters, though. He respects both of them, especially after Ayame and Tsubaki teamed up to give him the "you hurt her and you're dead" speech behind their parents' back. It gets to the point where he sees them as his own sisters, too.

50. Is there anything that scares them about their friendship/relationship?

Daichi will always be scared of messing up his relationship because of how bad he can be with emotions at times. He hurt Yuriko fairly badly because of this once when they were younger, and he's been afraid of doing the same again.

With Yuriko -- stemming from how she grew up -- is constantly afraid of not being good enough. It takes a while for Daichi to reassure her that she's perfect the way she is, but Daichi sucks with words, so it takes a while for that to happen and a heaping amount of advice from friends and colleagues.

[ibis-gt]

I honestly would love to read about the first time Cam finds out Luther is shrinking because he has feelings for him. In that hanahaki disease au.

ask and ye shall receive.... cam figures it out. just shy of 2000 words.

~~~

“Aaaand… there,” Cam said, and gave the screwdriver one final twist. He pulled on the little contraption in front of him a few times to test its stability and sat back on his haunches, finally satisfied. “You’re all set.”

It is one of four little rope and pulley elevator systems that he’d set up around Luther’s apartment. It consisted of a small wooden plank that Luther could stand on and use the rope system to raise or lower himself. Each one was operable at height ranges between about a foot and a half to four inches. They let him get up onto his sofa, his bed, the kitchen counter, and the bathroom sink.

“You really didn’t have to do all that,” Luther protested from his position just behind Cam. “I mean, I don’t get that small that often, I probably won’t use them that much.”

Cam laughed and pushed a stray wisp of hair out of his face, looking up at Luther. “What are you talking about? You’re always shrinking around me. It’s okay, I’m happy to help. That’s what friends are for.” He watched the usual blush spread across Luther’s face, the telltale shiver run down his spine, and smiled as Luther shrank another inch. He’d lost some height here and there during the installation process as they chatted, and had gone down to about five foot even, if Cam had to guess. “Anyway, you let me know if you have any trouble with these, and I’ll be over to fix ‘em as soon as I can. And there’s the bells if you’re in any real trouble - those strings there, see? They’re hooked up to a bell in my apartment, ring that and I’ll come right over.”

“My cat’ll have a field day with them,” Luther murmured, brow furrowing. “Maybe we should do something other than string.”

Cam chewed on the end of his screwdriver in contemplation. “Hm. Good point. I’ll figure something out later.” He slipped the screwdriver in his toolbelt and slapped his hands on thighs as he stood up. “Well! I’d better get back to my place and start dinner. You’re coming over, right?”

“Oh! As long as it’s not an imposition? I mean, I don’t want to be any trouble…”

“Nah, s’alright, you’re always welcome. Spaghetti and meatballs tonight. See you in an hour?”

Luther’s blush deepened and he lost another two inches. “S-see you then,” he managed.

Cam chuckled fondly to himself as he left. He tried not to think of Luther’s condition as cute or funny, because when the shrinking was really bad it put the poor guy in danger. But he couldn’t help but find it amusing when Luther lost just a little height, ending up just a slightly shorter version of himself. And when he went on one of his long rambles and shrank a little bit at a time all throughout, it put Cam in mind of a deflating balloon, which was just too silly not to laugh at. And when he ended up really tiny, and he was just like a little doll, and fit so perfectly in the palm of Cam’s hand…

Cam shook his head to clear his thoughts. No, that was too far. He shouldn’t think like that, no doubt it was terrifying for Luther to be so small and vulnerable. He sighed as he shouldered his door open, hands full of leftover wood and string. He set them on the little table where he kept his keys by the door, then unbuckled his toolbelt and hung it on the coat rack, lost in thought.

He’d been puzzling over what caused Luther to shrink for a while now. Was it just at random? Was it like an allergic reaction, and some kind of food or environmental thing kicked it off? He had a brief vision of Luther sneezing and instantly shrinking down to bug size. No, knock it off, he chastised himself, not funny. A little funny. But don’t laugh at it.

Anyway, he hadn’t seen Luther ever sneeze when he shrank, so that probably wasn’t it. What were the symptoms? He’d make a list, that would help him narrow it down.

Cam slipped an apron over his head - one of the novelty ones his sister kept getting him, he didn’t bother to read the witty joke about buns printed on the front - and started on the dough for his spaghetti. Whenever possible, he liked to make things from scratch. Besides, having something to do with his hands let his mind work better. He worked the problem around in his mind just like he worked the dough in front of him, kneading it, pushing it around, looking at it from different angles.

So. What were the warning signs? Luther tended to get awkward and shy just before he shrank. He’d blush, stammer or trip over his words, either avoid eye contact or stare like he couldn’t look away, and of course the final sign was that signature shiver right before a loss of height. A lot of those symptoms could be attributed to anxiety as well - was that what triggered the shrinking, just whenever he was anxious? But that couldn’t be it, Luther had been anxious plenty of times without shrinking. Not to mention he worked a high-stress job, waiting tables at a local diner, and wouldn’t be able to make it through the day if anxiety made him shrink. So that wasn’t it.

Cam rolled the dough out flat and cut it into strips. He hung the fresh noodles up to dry and put water on to boil, then opened the fridge and pulled out the meatballs he’d shaped that morning.

His brain kept chugging along on the issue as he worked, hands going on automatic. He came back to the present long enough to taste the sauce he’d made, hem and haw, and add a little more garlic, then went right back to it. There was something tugging at the back of his mind, trying to get his attention, but he couldn’t quite grasp it.

A sound startled him out of his thoughts - the ringing of a bell.

“Shoot,” Cam hissed, dropping the sauce spoon. It clattered onto the stove and left little pools of sauce cooling on the glass surface. He’d deal with that later though, Luther needed him now. He switched the burners to low and headed for the door.

Luther’s door was locked, so he had to duck back inside his apartment to grab the spare key. He opened the door slowly and called out.

“Luther? Was that just the cat, or do you need me?” Cam scanned the room, looking for that distinctive neon green jumpsuit. It clashed horribly with everything, but it was useful for spotting him when he ended up tiny. Sure enough, there he was by the strings for the bell, waving an arm to get Cam’s attention. He was easy to spot, as far as things went, standing about a foot tall. Cam hurried over.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Do you need help?” Cam took a knee in front of Luther and leaned in close, inspecting him for injuries. Luther took a step back, startled by the sudden rush of worry, and Cam made himself pull back as well. It had to be scary to have someone looming over you like that, he told himself, give him a little space.

“I-I’m fine,” Luther said. “I just… well, this happened, and now I can’t really open my door, so I was hoping you could give me a lift over for dinner? Sorry, I shouldn’t’ve used the bell. I could’ve texted you.”

The tension flooded out of Cam and he laughed in relief. “No, that’s fine, I just jumped to conclusions. I can give you a lift, sure.” He cupped his hands and held them out to Luther, who climbed on and settled in, sitting down with his legs crossed. Cam rose slowly, being careful not to jostle Luther, and began to amble back towards the door. A thought occurred to him.

“What did it?” Cam asked.

Luther looked up, startled. “What did what?”

‘“What made you shrink this time? I’ve been trying to work it out on my own and I’m just not getting it. There’s gotta be a common thread, right, you’re not just shrinking at random?”

Luther stared at him in open-mouthed shock, face growing steadily redder.

“I mean,” Cam continued, “if you were just shrinking at random, it’d be hard to hold down a job, y’know? Do you ever shrink at work? And anyway, didn’t you say - ” His eyes widened as that thing that had been nagging at him finally became clear. “You said you don’t shrink all the time! But you shrink pretty often whenever I’m around. Am I doing it, somehow?”

“No, no, no,” Luther said hurriedly, but Cam could feel him getting smaller.

“Oh, liar!” Cam chortled. “Nice try, Pinnochio, but I’m literally holding you right now. Is it actually me?”

“It’s - it’s not - not always?” Luther was practically cowering away from him now, and Cam realized he’d been a little harsh.

“Oh shoot, I’m sorry. Look, we don’t have to talk about it, okay? It’s your business, I shouldn’t’ve pried.”

“No, I… I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while, it’s just… hard to say out loud, um…” Luther fidgeted with the collar of his jumpsuit, avoiding Cam’s eyes. He was red as a tomato, mouth drawn up in an adorable little pout, and so small and cute that Cam’s heart ached. Then it clicked.

“Oh. Is it me, like… because you like me?” Cam asked. “Like, you have a crush on me, is that it?”

Luther let out a sound like a tea kettle whistling, shrinking down at an alarming rate to only five inches tall. Cam couldn’t help himself. He laughed so hard he snorted. When he finally got a hold on himself again, the wounded look on Luther’s face sobered him instantly.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, but you don’t know how long I’ve been trying to work this out, and the answer’s been right in front of my face the whole time! I swear I’m laughing at myself, not at you. Anyway, you wanna go out sometime?”

Luther gaped up at him for a long moment. His mouth opened and closed a few times, but nothing came out. Finally he shut his mouth and nodded furiously. Cam grinned.

“Or this could be like our first date, right? I’ll get some candles and dim the lights. We could even 'Lady and the Tramp' it with the spaghetti! Or - okay, okay, sorry, I’ll stop.” Luther had started to shrink again, and Cam didn’t want his cooking to go to waste just because his guest was too small to eat it. “Hey, I joke a lot, but I want you to know I’m being serious here,” he said gently. “I’d like to go out with you, if you’re alright with it. Is it going to cause problems, though? Like are you going to shrink every time we’re together?”

Luther shifted and looked away, finally finding his voice. “I - I don’t know. The doctor said if I told you about how I felt, it would get easier. But he didn’t say it would go away entirely… if that’s not something you want to put up with, we don’t have to - ”

“No, no, that’s fine, I don’t mind it. Just if it was a problem for you, is all. I like you a lot, Luther. I’d love to be your partner, if you’ll have me.”

Luther looked back up at Cam with a huge, genuine, relieved smile on his teeny tiny face. Cam’s heart melted.

“I’d like that.”

[colossal-fallout]

First time with Reiner Braun ❤

Fem X Reiner

This is a little different. I wrote it so you can insert yourself or an OC.

  Warnings: NSFW. 18+ Smut and Fluff. 

A/N: Slight Canon divergent as Cadets take place when they’re in their late teens/early twenties. Other than that, it’s all the same. 

  Reiner had been acting weird all day; but [Name] couldn’t really blame him.  

The last time they were alone together, they’d ended up locking mouths in a steamy kiss. They hadn’t spoken about it since – they hadn’t really had the chance.  Between training and having their classmates around it was a perfect cover to avoid a potentially awkward conversation.  When Shadis announced that for this exam, they would be teamed up together, they had both internally groaned.  

Well, it was going to happen eventually. They’d had another two years of training, they were bound to wind up alone together again at some point. They’d both made sure that during the entire hike, they didn’t let one silence befall the conversation, which would force them to talk about the inevitable subject of their heated kiss.  

It was quite comical, actually.  

Constant talking either about their task, their friends or at one point even pondered and speculated if a person got a sunburn in front of a cannibal; would the cannibal start watering at the mouth?

Anything to not talk about the kiss.  

It’d been a whole week since the incident and it wasn’t like they didn’t want to address it. They just didn’t want to know the others thought on the matter.  They’d both had serious reservations about it; they were totally focused on training and not fooling around.  

And yet...

The kiss only fanned the flames of the huge crush Reiner has had on her since day one. The crush that, over the last thirteen months, had developed into something a lot deeper.  

He’d kill for her.  

He thought about that only earlier when she made a joke about something and it really tickled him to the core; resulting in a loud belly laugh. So, when the sun was starting to set and they had found a good place to camp for the night... that was when things would inevitably go south.  

“Hey Ba- uh, [Name] ?” Reiner called out in a chilled horror. Not only from the slip of the tongue, but also what he had discovered in their shared backpack.  

[Name] was only a few feet away, starting a campfire when a small laugh left her sweet lips.  

“Did you almost call me Bertolt?”  

No. I almost called you “babe”

“Uh, yeah. Sorry. But we have a problem.”

“What is it?” she frowned, heading over.  

He pulled a large, folded bit of material out of the pack.  

“...We only have one tent.”

She looked at him like he spoke another language.

“So? It’s not the first time we’ve had to share a tent with a partner during training. I had to share one with Jean last year.”  

I bet Jean would have loved that...  

It was a running joke amongst the men about when they had to share sleeping quarters with the women, and how they’d lie on the very edge, all limbs tucked in and never once touching them for fear of a testosterone induced erection.  

“Yeah, but I’m a big guy.” He lied, not once being concerned about that at all.  

“Get over yourself.” She chuckled, nudging him playfully as she returned to what she was doing.  

Reiner solemnly obeyed and began to set up the tent, his frown pulling at his face the entire time.  He will not get any sleep – being so close to... her. Alone... Miles away from anyone.  

After they’d kissed.  

He swallowed hard as he fumbled with the poles, wanting to be out of this situation.  

Reiner Braun was desperately in love with this woman and he was supposed to be keeping away. If they kiss again, he’s a total goner. There would be no way he could reject her if she reciprocated his feelings even in the slightest. Luckily, their kiss had been interrupted so he didn’t know how she truly felt. He thought that if he never knew, it’s a problem he would never have to face.  

His fingers clumsily began to fix things together;  [Name] already having the fire going and preparing dinner.  

His eyes almost began to water at the thought that he was about to get her famous, amazing cooking.  

Sasha had been furious he was paired with her.  

His chest tightened and his head became fuzzy. He wished he didn’t have to be in such a complicated situation; he would just ask her to marry him already.  

“You need help?” her voice called over after he dropped the pole fixtures for the third time.  

“Huh? Uh, no I got it.” He wavered a hand dismissively without turning around.  

What the hell am I going to do? He panics in silence.  

Eventually the sun had set and the tent was erected, the two of them sitting by the fire after they’d eaten. The warm orange glow of the flames encased them cosily as Reiner sat back and patted his stomach in awe.  

“Amazing. As always.” He smiled. “Thank you.”

“I’m glad you liked it.” She beamed beautifully.  

 Surrounded by the trees under the stars and being embraced by the warm glow of the flames; [Name] now began to feel weird about their intimate moment they’d had.  It wasn’t very often they had time alone and her feelings for him remained the same since.  

They sat back, gazing up at the stars in a comfortable silence.  

“It feels like we haven’t stargazed in forever.” [Name] commented quietly. “I bet Marco is looking at them now too.”  

“Yeah, he will be.” Reiner marvelled.  

Another silence.  

He noticed she had been pretty quiet since they began relaxing by the fire.  

[Name] was wondering why he hadn’t mentioned the kiss. He’d had plenty of time now.  

Maybe he regrets it?

She bit her lip at the thought, her eyes lowering to the flames sadly. God, he’d grown on her a hell of a lot and she resented that fact. It hurt to think he didn’t feel the same.  

Reiner noticed this.  

Shit, she looks sad. Is it because he hadn’t mentioned the kiss? Should he ask her? There’s no way he would ever stand for her feeling down, let alone because of him.  

What the hell should I do?!

His brain hurt. More so, his heart.  

She flinched a little in surprise when he slowly creeped his hand across the ground and intentionally skimmed his skin across her fingers. He didn’t look at her though. It was his way of sending an impossible telepathic message of; Don’t be sad. I can’t say it but God, I love you.

She, however, assumed it was an accident.  

Ah hell. I’m going to have to mention it. I can’t see her feeling down.  

He took a deep breath.  

“You alright? You look a little down.” His usual façade of serious, concerned solider coming out.  

“Oh? I’m fine.” She lied.  

He knew she was lying. He knew her too well.  

“It looks like it’s going to rain though.” She noticed the thick clouds that were rolling in, beginning to block their view of the stars. “We should get some sleep.”

“R-right.” Reiner nodded, deflated.  

He didn’t know what he expected. His heart, body and soul ached for her lips against his again, but his mind screamed to stop being an idiot.  

As she went inside to get ready for bed, he stood and began to snuff out the flames of the fire, along with any hope he’d had of being with the woman he was so desperately in love with.  

----

  Sure enough, as they lay facing away from one another, the sounds of soft pattering began to tap the tent above their heads. They lay back-to-back with as big of a gap between them as possible; what the small tent would allow anyway. Reiner’s arms were tucked up around his chest and his eyes were wide.

[Name] had her limbs tucked away too but that was for a different reason – as always when she camped out, she was freezing. It didn’t matter the season. As soon as that sun sank below the horizon, her body temperature would drop.  

Reiner on the other hand was like a big insulated heater, sleeping in just his underwear under his sleeping bag. His heart thudded harshly against his large chest.  

She’s just there! Kiss her! Talk to her! Tell her how you feel...

 He’d been close to telling her a few times over the course of the last month or so. He couldn’t help it. Even before they shared that kiss, his feelings would bubble up to the surface and almost spew out of his mouth. He’d always managed to stop himself though, although it was getting increasingly more difficult each time.  

She was just so... perfect.  

Not only was she extremely attractive and half of his classmates wanted her, but she was strong. Smart. Funny. Caring... His eyes closed in a frown as he listed the endless attributes he loved about her in his head. He was fighting a losing battle, and he knew it.  

Bertolt. Annie. Marcel. I’m sorry. I tried... I really did.  

He glanced back and that’s when he noticed her curled up in a ball, shivering.  

His eyebrows furrowed.  “...You cold?”  

“Y-yeah.”  

He instantly turned onto his side to face her, his sleeping bag rustling against the fabric of the tent.  

“You should have said something. ‘C mere.”  

With a sigh he sat up and began unzipping her sleeping bag.  

“What are you doing?” her teeth chatted.  

“Helping you warm up. I doubt you wanna get sick and miss training.”

She averted her eyes away from him when he unzipped his bag and fastened them together into a double. She knew he slept in his shorts.  

Her breath caught in her throat when he wrapped his big, strong arms around her and pulled her back against his warm chest, heat rolling off him and encasing her like a huge bear was holding her. His scent rolled off him and embraced her sense of smell, relaxing her immediately.

He kept his pelvis away from her, his manhood already stirring awake and he didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable.  

“T-thank you.” She whispered, still trembling.  

“Don’t mention it.” He sighed, silently kicking himself.  

I definitely won’t be getting any sleep now.  

Her heart almost stopped when his head rested and lay between her neck and shoulder, his hot breath blanketing her skin. Rushes of unexpected heat ran down her body to in-between her legs and seemed to just pool there.  

His brows furrowed behind her; inhaling her intoxicating scent silently.  

Although he was trying his hardest not to brush his hips against her, he still felt so comfortable having her in his arms like this, like she was supposed to be in them. He was meant to protect her. To care for her. To love her.  

His mind fluttered back to how he’d almost told her he loved her before. He’d hinted so hard but she just looked at him like he was crazy, not understanding what he was trying to tell her. When he was around [Name], it was like all of his troubles just melted away. Colours seemed brighter, his worries were brushed aside and life was just... amazing. She made him laugh, he could tell her anything (almost) and she always knew what to say to make him feel better after a particularly rough day. But to him, the best part of it all was how excited she got him for the future. One that was bleak and full of sorrow was spun upside down and into a promising one, brimming with all possibilities.

“I have something to tell you.” He said softly, not able to stop himself this time.  

Maybe it was being this close to her that sent him over the edge. Or maybe it made it easier that she was facing away from him.  

“Hm?” she hummed softly; her eyes closed and enjoying the warm embrace.  

“...I love you.”  

That was it. It was out.

There was no way to suck those words back into his lungs.  

The tense, pregnant silence within the tent was only filled by the light tapping of the rain against the material that covered them.

He felt her tense in surprise, her eyes flying open.  

She swivelled around to face him, her eyes searching his narrow golden orbs for any sign of deception.  

But there wasn’t any.  

A crimson flush washed over his cheeks.  

“I... I mean, you know –” he began before she silenced him by pressing her lips against his.  

Both of their eyebrows pulled back as if pleading above closed eyes, his hand cupping her face, thrilled to be kissing her once more.  

She pulled away, her own pink hue colouring her face.  

“You... Love me?” she asked, her voice soft and sweet.  

He pressed his head against hers, closing his eyes and nodding.  

“ [Name] , I’m crazy about you.” He whispered in honesty. “I always have been.”

“...How crazy?” she teased, trying to tear away any awkwardness or negative feelings in his confession.  

He smirked. She knows just how to make him comfortable.  

He grinned slyly, looking in her eyes.  

“Oh, absolutely insane. I should be getting carted away to the asylum, with Sasha and her potatoes behind me.”

She laughed beautifully, her heart swelling with joy. Even from that dumb little exchange, confirmed to her that she definitely felt the same.  

“So, you don’t regret that kiss...? Last week?”

“Of course not.” He replied, eyes returning to a desperate pleading. “I was just having a hard time accepting that I’ve come to cadets to be a soldier and.... Ended up meeting the woman I wanna marry.”

Every word that left his lips felt like a warm pleasant jab to her heart.  

“You... Wanna marry me?” She whispers, totally blown away from the intensity of this confession.  

“I do.” He admitted shyly. “You don’t deserve anything less. It’s just how I feel... Sorry”

“You know...” she whispered shyly. “It’s more efficient to share body heat when you’re both naked.”

His eyes enlarged and breath caught in his throat.  

“That’s if... You’d want to.” She added adorably.  

“Are you sure?” he whispered, praying she would say yes.  

She nodded in reply.  

“I want you, Reiner.” She breathed. “I love you too. I want... you to make me yours. I want to be yours.”

Reiner was bombarded with emotion.  

Elation. Excitement. Arousal.

Not to mention he was beginning to wonder if this were a dream. If he were going to cruelly wake up next to Bertolt and his weird sleeping positions.  

There’d been countless times he’s imagined her utter those words in his head; sometimes while stroking his own cock.  

He’d lost count how many times he’d furiously tugged himself while she occupied his mind. But as his feelings for her deepened, it became less and less so; guilt always creeping into his conscience. He just respected her too much.

He propped himself up on his elbow, running his now trembling fingers through her hair.  

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He breathes.

“You won’t.” She shook her head. “I mean, it’s okay if you don’t want to, I under –”  

He put his arms under the sleeping bag with great speed and shuffled a little, before pulling his shorts out and throwing them to the side.  

She let out a laugh when he returned to his original position with haste.  

He returned her laugh, rubbing his nose against hers.  

“Okay...” she muttered shyly. “Look over there for a moment”

He turned around obediently as she began to nervously undress under the now warm sleeping bag.  

All he could hear under the movement of her undressing herself was his heart pounding in his head.  

There’s no way this is real and happening.  

His cock was already hard at the thought of her undressing inches away from him. His previous reservations about being teamed up with her were quickly washed away as she threw her clothes to the side, before nestling back down and hiding under the cover.  

“Alright... You can come back.” She informs him.  

At the speed of a firing bullet, he turned back around; painfully keeping his eyes glued to hers.  

His arm flinched, about to pull her back into his embrace but he hesitated.  

“Are... you sure?” He asked again, not able to believe the situation.  

“Yes.” She giggled, nervously.  

His eyes enlarged and jaw slackened when he felt her satin soft skin against his, her bare breasts pressing against his hard chest and her lower stomach and groin against his solid erection. 

A gasp parted her lips as she felt, not only how hard he was, but how big.  

His arms snaked around her, his narrow orbs keeping their gaze onto her orbs as he pulled her now naked form against his.  

“R-Reiner...” she couldn’t help but stammer, her face heating up as well as her insides.  

A pink hue raises over his cheeks, not having really thought through the situation. He was nervous. He was excited. He was close to hyperventilating. 

Her lips softly press against Reiner’s once more, her fingers grazing across his scalp, her breathing heavy and needing. 

His arm snakes around her stomach, his brow pulled down and creased while his nose pushes out a blow of air, his heart hammering and his cock leaking with pre-cum. She could feel it weeping against her flesh as it throbbed and danced against her lower stomach. 

She pulls back for a moment; “Reiner. Only take me if you’re going to cherish me. This won’t be a one time thing for me...” 

He catches her gaze, lips parted and eyes still hungry. “Of course. I meant what I said.” 

She smiles - elated at his words as she returns her kiss, her hands roaming his ridged, solid muscles. 

His mouth moves down to her neck, slow and tender kisses - each one sending jolts of searing hot electric through her entirety. Reiner’s breath is deep; quivering and panting as he tries to hold back his eagerness and excitement. 

“I’ve wanted you for so long...” He groans, his large palm pushing her arm above her head as he hovers over her a little, his fingers interlocking with her own, still kissing her deeply. 

The pink hue across his face was deepening to more of a crimson, his eyes heavy lidded and jaw slack the entire time. The way he kisses her is with such compassion, such tenderness. He grazes his large nose against hers, hands caress her hair as he keeps himself steady over her, before gingerly rolling on top of her completely, keeping himself suspended with his forearms. 

He made sure every single graze, every grope was as gentle as possible - afraid of his lumbering huge form would somehow break her as they explored one another’s bodies, their tongues entwining in a slow dance within their mouths. Deep, short groans vibrated his throat and chest from time to time, and not once did that furrowed look of desperation leave his face. 

 The only sounds that could be heard was their kisses, whines and groans as well as their laboured breath and the pattering of rain against the tent. 

He suddenly stops their kiss, placing his head against hers and rubbing his large thumb across her cheek, back and forth. 

“I’m happy to just do this.” He breathes, wanting to prove to her that he really was just so happy she felt the same. “We don’t have to do anything else.” 

“I want to...” She replies, the snake coiled within her wrapped far too tightly to be ignored now. “I want you to make me yours. That’s...if you’d like.” 

He nods - returning his kiss, his top lip folding as his lusted haze results in him missing his mark slightly. God it was hard for him not to touch her between her legs. But he’s a gentleman. He didn’t want to unless he knew one hundred per cent that she was sure. 

Taking his fingertips, he nervously and slowly grazes them down her stomach to her pubic bone, pausing before taking a leap of courage - his calloused pads grazing down her clitoris and to her soaked lips. 

They both gasp at the sensation. The feeling of his warm, large fingers against her most intimate area was indescribable. And for him, her thick slick was heavenly. 

“Is this all for me...?” He whispers in awe and disbelief, his shoulder flexing with his movements as he continues to slowly stroke her. 

She nods, biting her lip. 

“Sh~~~it.” He swallows hard, eyes closing for a moment before returning to hers. “It’s my first time. I won’t last long.” 

“I don’t care.” She groans, pulling him by his head for another deep kiss. 

 As much as he wanted to enter her, he refused to allow himself. Instead his lips trail down her body, her eyes locked onto his broad back flexing with every tiny movement as his head moves, his lips connecting with every inch of skin it could find - his hands gently rubbing and massaging - memorising every single gasp from her mouth. Every hitch of breath. He would remember where he’d been when she made those noises and made sure he damn well took it all in. 

“Reiner, I can’t take it.” She eventually moans, writhing beneath him, fingers running through her own hair. “I need you. Please...” 

He instantly returns to her face, cupping it and his muscular back hunches - his free hand grabbing the large base of his shaft. 

“You ready for me, baby?” He breathes. 

She nods. 

He lines up his gleaming head before pushing gently, her tiny entrance being invaded by him as he hisses, her back bending with a loud moan. 

“ [Name]...” He whimpers, totally overwhelmed both with physical stimulation and emotion. 

He pushes again, a little firmer his head popping in past the first hurtle. 

“You okay?” He asks, sounding like he’s just finished sprinting a whole cross-country race. 

“Yeah...” 

He pushes again, her tight insides slowly ingesting him like a snake with a large meal - her ridges massaging him as they spasm with glee around him - his moans now a lot louder than before as he jitters to a stop at the hilt. 

“Fuck...” His tone sounds like he’s about to burst into tears as he slowly starts to pull out and slide back in again. 

The full feeling of Reiner Braun was better than ecstasy, his girth pushing and stretching her, his cock bending up slightly at the tip, already pushing against her g-spot as he trembles above her. With each slow thrust, her pleasure was pushed to an impossible new high, her nails sinking into his large back as she clung onto him for dear life - tears pooling at the corners of her orbs from how amazing it all felt. Like the only two people in the world were her and him, souls connected and swirling around the cosmos in the eternal dance of lovers. 

 “I can’t... Reiner. It’s too good.” She sobs, her insides now pulling in a rhythm as her coil tightens more and more. “I’m going...” 

“Oh, baby...” He groans, eyes rolling as he plunges a little faster. “Me too. It feels so - n’urgh. So good...” 

“Reiner!” She sobs hysterically as she snaps, coming undone around him as her legs tremble and head throws back. 

 As she unravels around him, her name leaves his lips over and over and over again, each time louder than the last as his thick and large cumshot explodes inside of her, his atomic detonation causing mass devastation as his legs quiver, eyes cross and even a bit of drool hangs from his mouth. 

 You are one special person to capture Reiner’s affections while he held such high walls around his heart for reasons not yet known to you. But you managed it, and god is it such a beautiful thing. 

[kindness-ricochets]

I’ve been seeing a lot of thoughts and hc of autistic wylan lately and you seem to also be a fan of the concept. May I ask why? Exactly? I could definitely kinda see it but wanna hear you thoughts you’re always so eloquent

Hey there anon! Sorry for the delay—I’m guessing you already found an answer to this elsewhere while I was off Tumblr for a bit, but just in case, here are my thoughts. This will be heavily personal, but… well, you can’t very well ask an autistic person about autism and expect neutrality!

Autism is different for everyone and can be difficult to pin down, so while Wylan is arguably autistic, he misses several beats that for me would have made him definitively and undeniably autistic. For example, when the bells start to ring, triggering black protocol—I work in a place with a lot of bells and am frequently caught too close to one and normally press my hands over my ears until it’s over because that sound is like shrapnel raking across my insides. All of them. Not just the ear and brain parts. Wylan doesn’t have that sort of visceral reaction, but that may just mean he doesn’t have the same sensitivities that I do, or to the same level. He also never, that I recall, eats meat—as weird as that might sound, eating meat is incredibly complicated with heightened sensitivities to taste and texture. I’m not sure how old I was when I realized it was strange to get up from the table to spit out my food because it viscerally repulsed me. So it might be that Wylan is autistic and has different experiences than I do. Those are things I would include in a story as major indicators of a character being autistic. This might also mean that his father’s way of raising him taught him to hide unusual reactions and stimming behaviors. It’s not that much of a reach to assume a man who tried to abuse the dyslexia out of his son would take the same approach to autism. (More on autism and abuse later.)

So while I’m going to lay out why I read Wylan as autistic, that’s why I think it’s valid to read him as not being autistic as well. Both are valid.

A final caveat, I am well overdue for a reread of the books, so I likely left something out or could have found better examples. Take this as a few of my reasons for a personal headcanon. Anyone who feels differently, that's fine! We can each read things our own way :)

1 - Hyperfixation: The way Wylan loves music

Most of the Crows’ backgrounds color how they see the world: Kaz’s shrewdness, Matthias’s tactical thinking and superstition, Inej’s faith and Suli wisdom, etc. That’s a sign of good character writing. But very little of Wylan’s upbringing seems to have influenced how he sees the world. It comes closest when he thinks about how his father would scorn his new friends, but we never see that scorn from Wylan.

The way a hyperfixation feels, it’s like you’ve always lived in a close parallel world, never fully been a part of the other one where it seems like everyone else lives, but suddenly there’s this bright shining piece of your soul laced through the other world. It lets you connect, it lets you exist in their realm, and you can’t help but filter everything new through that lens because it’s the brightest, most wonderful thing. (I had been between hyperfixations for a while when I started a new job; six months into that work, I read Crooked Kingdom. One of my coworkers thought I had fallen in love, it was that marked a difference.)

So, combining these: Wylan never really acts like he was part of his father’s world, and indeed is in some ways separate from the other Crows, but he parses everything through music, his hyperfixation. He sets words to music to remember them, like he does with the contract. Even his own anxiety is made sense of through music, when in his first narrated chapter, he sets it to music: what am I doing here what am I doing here…. When he’s overwhelmed, his thoughts are “a jangle of misplayed chords”. The Crows have backgrounds that influence how they react to the world, but Wylan’s hyperfixation is his means of experiencing and understanding the world.

2 - Literal thinking: Wylan responds to exact words

In this post, I went into detail on the line where Wylan suggested waking up men to kill them. Wylan is generally unsupportive of killing people—Oomen, Smeet’s clerk, his father… he advocates not-murder in each of these situations. Accepting his aversion to murder, his suggestion to wake men up and kill them seems like a genuine reaction to Jesper saying he doesn’t want to kill unconscious men. Wylan takes things literally.

This happens the most with Jesper, probably because Jesper talks to Wylan the most. Nina and Matthias don’t really register him past how he might be useful, Inej is usually quite direct, and Kaz is very deliberate when he speaks with Wylan. This really interests me because Kaz tends to vary his speech more than the others do, he adapts more to being around other people. He jokes a little with Jesper, spars with Nina, speaks more openly and more sharply with Inej, and he’s precise with Wylan. Kaz may not know what autism is, but he recognizes what’s effective with Wylan.

Another example is when Wylan is sketching the Ice Court plans and Jesper says it looks like a cake. There are plenty of valid responses here: pointing out that concentric circles look like lots of things, that it’s just a sketch, telling Jesper to stop looking over his shoulder. Instead, Wylan says that the Ice Court is sort of like a cake. That… doesn’t sound like something Wylan would normally say. He’s not addressing the whole situation, he’s addressing the specific words Jesper said.

One of the most heartbreaking examples of this (to me, anyway) is with Marya. Wylan does the same thing with his mother, when she asks if he’s there for her money and says she hasn’t got any, and his response is, “I don’t either.” We understand as readers that what Marya is communicating here is that she is so accustomed to being utterly ignored unless she is being used, and if she told Wylan that no one visited but to take advantage and she assumed he was here for the same reason, he would say it wasn’t the case. But he just responds to the immediate statement.

There are a lot of examples of this.

3 — 0% perception, 100% creativity

Wylan can identify things that don’t make sense or that he doesn’t understand, but at the beginning of the series he can’t make leaps, only ask questions. On the Ferolind, he wonders about the source of water at the Ice Court; though Kaz doesn’t say as much, he was clearly wondering, too, because he eventually figured out the underground river. There’s an interesting parallel here where, in the beginning of Crooked Kingdom, Wylan asks a question about how they’ll break into Smeet’s and Kaz tells him to use his eyes instead of running his mouth—at which point Wylan is able to figure it out. I don’t think this is because he never tried before, though, but because no one ever bothered to teach him. Kaz can be harsh but he gives harsh corrections rather than harsh rejections and Wylan learns from him.

It’s hard to understand the world for people with autism. The world is designed and run by and for people whose minds are fundamentally different from ours, whose thoughts and experiences are unlike ours. Imagine trying to learn English or Spanish or Mandarin or any other spoken language if your first language was olfactory. That’s sort of what it’s like for someone with autism to just get dropped into the world and expected to figure this out.

This can be attributed to Wylan’s upbringing, but I disagree with that because none of the others were brought up in the Barrel, either, and Wylan doesn’t understand trade or politics with any special skill. Kaz wasn’t born in the Barrel, but he managed to go from “stealing is wrong” to “wrong isn’t my concern” real quick; Colm Fahey didn’t raise his son on gambling and firefights; the Ghafas never expected their daughter to be away from the family. Only Nina has relevant training—and even that’s precious little, she left school way too early. The others figured it out; Wylan needed a bit more help. He also seems surprised by the way his father conducts business. Wylan takes things on face value—like the time he’s surprised someone would do something, simply because it’s unlawful. This is something he expresses to a group of gangsters. He’s never been taught the way of any world and these things are not intuitive to him.

But Wylan isn’t stupid.

He doesn’t know how to understand the world, but he does understand how things go together. Given a pointy diamond, a handle, and a screw, he cut through Grisha glass. He carries flashbangs and magic napalm, he recreates military hardware—Wylan understands how to make things interact for a specific result. But to me the most telling thing isn’t just that he puts together chemical pieces, it’s that he figured out Jesper controlled bullets. He saw the pieces and put them together.

Wylan can understand when things don’t make sense, but he can’t make sense of them—yet when he understands things at their basic level, he understands them without preconception, for what they are. This is a very autistic way of thinking about things, it goes back to the literalism. He can’t make the leaps of logic other people can, but he also doesn’t make the assumptions they do—“I’ve never heard of a bullet Grisha, so that’s not a thing” vs “Well Jesper’s an almost impossibly good shot and he controls metal and bullets are metal, so why not?”

4 - Broken brain/body connection

Wylan’s great at chemistry and drawing and playing flute or piano—but he’s something of a disaster other times. This is in particular contrast to the other characters, all of whom are physically adept. Meanwhile it’s a challenge for Wylan to climb a rope ladder and he spends a full paragraph trying to figure out what to do with his hands. It’s easy to say, well, he’s used to a sedentary lifestyle, but at this point he’s not. He’s worked in the tannery for months. He’s just physically awkward.

I have less to say on this point only because it’s about something I don’t fully understand myself. I don’t really understand what it would be like to have a body that just… does things? Like normal stuff? Without tics and stims. No idea. Only that Wylan’s discomfort in and seeming lack of mastery of his own body feels very relatable to me.

5 - Abuse

One of the most familiar things about Wylan is how he has been so thoroughly abused and broken down that he’s afraid to do or say much of anything. Again, this is a place his background can be an obscuring factor. Of course Wylan didn’t think to blow up the walls when the first met the parem-juiced jurda and got trapped, he’s a spoiled rich kid! Except, he also startled when Jesper said his name later. Wylan didn’t hesitate because he was spoiled, he hesitated because he had no confidence.

He also thinks Kaz would laugh at him for playing music at his mother’s grave. Now, personally, I can’t see Kaz laughing at Wylan—being indifferent, thinking it’s pointless sentimentality, shaking his head, maybe commenting sharply that they need to go if they don’t have the time. But not laughing. Kaz is a snarky, sharp-edged jerk sometimes, but he doesn’t go out of his way to criticize, he just lets people know when they inconvenience him.

Wylan has been trained to identify attention as negative by an overbearing abusive father who literally saw him as less favorable than a demon. Now, that may have been hyperbole, but Jan criticized everything he could about Wylan—art, music, emotion—and made clear that he was worthless and competent to nothing. (Jan Van Eck can suck a rotten donkey dick but that’s neither here nor there.)

A lot of people with autism experience levels of bullying that have similar impacts. Or as the kids these days are calling it: we go to school. We go to school where we are weird. Where we look weird and move weird and talk about weird things and there’s a whole little bevy of asswipes to makes sure we know it. I got teased more for playing Pokemon and sitting alone reading than the kid who pissed himself onstage at assembly. (This was before Pokemon was cool. I’m old.) And that is not unusual for autistic kids. It’s also not unusual for this to be compounded by relatives or even parents who may be trying to help but don’t understand and can make things even harder.

So we can’t read social cues and we’re taught at a vicious age that everything that comes naturally to us is wrong. Imagine trying to interact in society with that background. There is no guide and most advice from neurotypical people isn’t actually what they mean. It breaks you down.

Wylan’s anxiety isn’t definitive of autism, but isn’t something that was incredibly familiar as someone whose neurodivergent experiences created a strong level of anxiety.

6 — High Compassion, Low Social Competence

Wylan isn’t very good at making friends. In fact, none of the Crows likes him much in the beginning, and only some of them soften toward him by the end. (Matthias and Nina come to respect his skills as a chemist but neither seems to particularly like him.) But you can see throughout the books that Wylan wants to connect with them and be one of them, he just… isn’t. He’s off-beat. He’s weird. He asks questions and mimics behaviors (trying to be cool and tough like Jesper, saying “mission” like Matthias does, imitating Kaz’s scheming face) but he doesn’t quite get how to adapt.

But he still cares about people. Not just them. Everyone. He cares about the people they leave in the ditch outside the prison wagon, he cares about Hanna Smeet, he cares about Alys. He cares about the people who’ll take a hit from Kaz’s sugar caper.

Wylan’s awkward social skills have undeniable big autism energy. I posit his compassion does as well. This is simply who Wylan is, and that means being someone who cares about everyone. I have nothing to back up that this is related to autism. I can say that it’s like me. (Not to brag.) I can’t turn off the part of my brain that says everyone matters. Individuals can opt out of that compassion, but they have it by default. There’s a certain agony in feeling a pull toward and love for just about everyone and yet an inability to develop meaningful connections with them, and that keen loneliness… it just burns.

Again, it’s not definitive of autism, but it’s very similar to an autistic experience.

I said in the beginning that I didn’t think Wylan certainly had autism and I stand by that, but he is a powerfully honest reflection of many people who do. So he can be understood to have autism, and that’s part of the reason some people have that headcanon.

[tamakiamajikistentacles]

Bite to Break Skin {Katsuki Bakugo}

A/N: Please be sure to reblog, comment, review, and like if you enjoy! Feedback is what keeps me motivated! Welcome to my first time writing for A/B/O dynamics, one of my absolute favorite things in fanfic. There’s so much potential and I’m definitely interested in exploring it with other characters! Just a small heads up, this one is pretty dialogue heavy throughout.

“C’mon,” he said as his breathing finally slowed, “we gotta get up.”

The fingers combing through his damp hair paused. “Can I wear your shirt?”

“You’ve been wearin’ ‘em for years, ain’t gonna stop you now, idiot,” he huffed as he peeled himself away from her, their skin tacky with sweat. “Let’s go.”

“Don’t be shitty to me, Katsuki, I have your virginity!”

“And I have yours. Even exchange. No reason to stop teasing you,” he grunted. Pulling her to her feet he guided her towards his bathroom with a hand on her lower back.

They cleaned up in easy silence, each of them still feeling the content fuzziness in their minds that now seemed amplified and even better than usual. At different points they briefly wondered if that was normal after losing their virginities.

Probably, they decided. For them it was a natural progression in their over two-year relationship. Having gotten together just after the provisional license exam in their first year their hero course schedules only got busier and they got less time to spend together between classes and training and work studies and internships. But those moments were coveted and left plenty of time for them to take their relationship at the perfect pace for them.

Two years of wandering hands and mouths had culminated that afternoon while the majority of the class had gone to the shopping district and neither of them could regret a single thing about it.

“Katsuki?”

She felt warmth bloom in her chest as he looked over his shoulder, his eyes half-lidded and expression relaxed. “Yeah?”

“I love you,” she smiled, fingers absently twisting the hem of his shirt that she wore.

“’Course you do,” he smirked as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and returned them to his bed, the grey sheets rumpled. He bunched them down to the end of the mattress and laid down, pulling her to lie next to him curled into his side.

He was always so warm and she loved it, now especially as the chill of January lingered in the dorm hallways and throughout their rooms. Being close to him as they laid together was one of her favorite things about their relationship. As much as he seemed like a loner in their first weeks at UA she never believed it was true and once they were together behind closed doors he was happy as long as they had some sort of contact with each other. She’d never been prouder of being right than that day.

His attentiveness was something she knew would likely contribute heavily to his secondary gender when he presented in the future. There was no doubt in her mind that he would be an alpha, and an amazing one at that. His protective streak and pride in his own abilities couldn’t be attributed to any other presentation. While she herself was unsure of what she would present as, he had always promised that it didn’t matter.

“Alphas want omegas but I want you, and that means I get you no matter what we are,” he’d grumbled one evening not that long ago when she revealed her fears of presenting as a beta and not being what his alpha would need. “Secondary gender can go fuck itself if it thinks I’d leave you over some random omega. Shit, you don’t even know if I’d be an alpha anyway, dumbass.”

If she hadn’t been sure about him before, that conversation had cemented it in her mind and in her heart. Katsuki Bakugo was the one for her and it sent her heart into a tailspin to know that he felt the same way.

She pressed herself closer to him, basking in the warmth of his body and of her thoughts.

“You’re warm,” he mumbled against her forehead.

“So’re you.”

“Nah, your skin’s pink like you took one of your showers from hell.”

She huffed out a laugh. “’M fine, Katsuki. It’s ‘cause you’re warm and I’m still kinda hot from before.”

“You’re always hot,” he said with a pinch to the seat of her underwear.

“Just cuddle me, you ass.”

His arms tightened around her and they laid together in comfortable silence. At one point she started to doze against the warmth of Katsuki’s chest, one hand on his hip at the waistband of his sweats. She’d never felt safer.

In the middle of her dreamless nap she awoke to a persistent poking to her nose. When she opened her eyes, her boyfriend’s furrowed brow came into focus as she blinked. He pressed the back of his hand against her forehead.

“You’ve got a fever.”

She wanted to protest but the trails of sweat she could feel having trickled down her back was unmistakable. She definitely felt warm but she wasn’t disoriented or feeling sick.

“It’s like a full body fever,” Katsuki muttered, dropping his hand from her forehead.

“I feel really hot, but I don’t feel sick,” she told him, sleep leaving her as confusion took over.

He fisted the collar of the shirt she wore at the base of her neck, squeezing for just a moment before pulling back a glistening hand.

“Shirt’s soaked with sweat, take it off and I’ll get you one of my tanks,” he said, rolling out of bed and walking over to his drawers.

She peeled the sticky fabric from her skin, the feeling more uncomfortable than the fact that she was sitting topless once it was off. Nothing Katsuki hadn’t seen plenty of times after all.

A black tank top hit her chest before falling to her lap and she picked it up immediately, pressing her nose into the bundle. It’d barely been a minute since he left her side but she needed the comfort. Which is why when all she smelled was the scent of detergent her nose wrinkled.

“It doesn’t smell like you,” she complained, and he laughed from where he was straightening the other tank tops in his drawer.

“It’s clean, dumbass, I haven’t worn it yet. I’ll be next to you again in like two seconds anyway.”

“Hurry up,” she whined, slipping the tank top over her head and surprising him with her needy tone. “I haven’t smelled roasting chestnuts in almost two minutes, this is cruel. I even miss the little bit of sugar.”

He turned to her with furrowed brows. “I smell like that right now?”

“You smell like that all the time, ever since I’ve known you. What, you don’t know what your own cologne smells like anymore? You gone nose blind?”

He shook his head slowly. “My cologne is sandalwood. Always has been. The sugar I’ll give you because of my quirk but your perfume has nothing on that with your sweet cherries’n shit.”

Now it was her turn to be confused. “That’s not my perfume, Katsuki. My perfume is the same floral one I’ve worn since middle school, it’s not fruity or sweet at all. Come here, do I smell like that now?”

He crossed back over to the bed and sat in front of her, gently tugging her forward to press his nose into her hair. Her face tucked under his chin and she breathed in the same familiar scent.

“Sugared cherries just like always,” he muttered. “Do I…?”

“Mhm, roasted chestnuts with a pinch of sugar,” she replied almost dreamily. It was stronger than usual, but maybe that’s because she was concentrating on it. It felt like it was surrounding her and through her and it made her skin burn hotter. It was good. So so good, and she wanted and she needed more.

She pressed herself closer to him, his confused grunt falling on deaf ears until he grabbed her shoulders and pulled her from himself to look at her. He’d felt her skin grow warmer against his bare chest, the heat startling. But when he looked at her panic shot through him as she doubled over with a whimper.

He called her name but she didn’t answer, just clutched her stomach harder while curling further into herself and whining low in her throat.

“Alright, hey, hey, listen, okay? I’m calling Aizawa, he’ll help us figure out what’s wrong,” he tried to soothe, pulling her back into his chest. Her skin burned against his but he needed her to know he was here, he wasn’t going anywhere when she wasn’t alright.

It was awkward trying to reach his phone on the bedside table with her curled against him but he was hellbent on making her feel better and if that meant practically popping his shoulder out of its socket with the stretch so fucking be it.

“What’s wrong, Bakugo?” was the greeting he got and he immediately started listing off what was happening as she continued to tremble in his lap.

“She’s burning up to the point I feel like I’m touching an oven and she—”

“Todoroki’s still in the dorms, call him up and have—”

“NO!” he snarled into the phone. “He doesn’t need to be near her, just tell me how I can help her! She’s in fucking pain and nearly incoherent right now! You’re not fucking helping me!”

Aizawa was silent for a long moment. “Bakugo, where are you two?”

“We’re in my dorm and I’d appreciate if you could save the damn lecture for when she’s actually conscious enough to fuckin’ hear it too.”

“How long has she been like this? What was she doing when she started feeling the fever? Is there anything that’s—”

“For fuck’s sake, I don’t know! An hour or so and we were just here, she was asleep while I scrolled through my phone.”

Aizawa’s tone went knowing as he prompted, “And before that?”

He weighed his options for answering. They were already in shit for her being on the boys’ side of the dorms, how much worse could it be? They were consenting adults and they were responsible about it and if it did help figure out why she was—

“That’s what I thought,” Aizawa sighed before he could decide how to answer. “I can’t be there to help but I’m sending Recovery Girl. Try and keep her comfortable until she arrives.”

When the line went dead, he could only mumble out curses as he dropped his phone and kept her pressed against him. Her little noises of pain had lessened and she didn’t feel as tightly coiled in his arms as she had, but he was still worried. At least the old lady might actually be able to do something.

“Well I must hand it to Aizawa,” Recovery Girl chuckled as she pulled the thermometer from her lips, “the man does know his students.”

“The hell are you laughing for?” Bakugo hissed. He had been pacing back and forth while she examined her, hovering close and getting more frustrated by the moment. Sure, his girlfriend didn’t seem to be in pain at the moment but he wanted whatever caused it to be taken care of now.

“Don’t take that tone with me, boy, you may be an alpha but I won’t be disrespected.”

He did a double take, sputtering, “An alpha? I’m eighteen, I haven’t presented!”

She smiled in amusement. “Not fully, no, but you’re both presenting as we speak. Fated mates can present at an earlier age when establish an intimate connection prior to turning twenty. It likely hit her first being an omega and that pulled you over too. I must say I’m a bit surprised as fated mates are quite rare at your age, though maybe even more so that this took so long. It’s admirable of you children to take things slow but when I was your age—”

“We’re fated mates?” she murmured, breaking the older woman’s rambling. “So we…?”

“Quite a spin on the high school sweetheart’s trope wouldn’t you say? Certainly a story for the pups.”

“Wait, so she’s burning up because…” he trailed off as his cheeks flushed pink. “This is…”

“Yes, yes, this is her heat beginning and your rut will follow, keep up boy. I’m sure I don’t need to go into detail on that—”

“NO!” they shouted together, mortified.

She laughed, high pitched and maniacal. “Oh alright, I’ve had my fun. You children are so easy to poke at these days. But I do suppose we need to get you prepared for the next week or so. Dear, make a list of things you’ll need from your room and Bakugo will go fetch them for you.”

“I can’t just go myself?”

“Look at that boy’s face and tell me he’s alright with you leaving his den.”

Of course when she looked to him Katsuki’s face was contorted into an angry grimace, his lips twitching back to bare his teeth.

“Just tell me what you need,” he ground out, and she quickly rattled off everything she could think of that she may possibly need. Without a word he disappeared through the door, a lingering touch to her hand a silent promise to return quickly so as to soothe any worries of abandonment or actions that could be interpreted as rejection by her inner omega.

Recovery Girl turned the chair towards her and grabbed her bag from the floor. “We have a few things to discuss now, dear.”

She went over the arrangements made by Aizawa for their classes and schoolwork as well as daily drop offs of prepared bento boxes for them since they wouldn’t be leaving Bakugo’s room. Their parents had been contacted which sent a fresh wave of nausea through her for reasons other than the heat, but she was assured that it wasn’t as a punishment since they were both eighteen. Still, she could only image the conversation she would hear at the end of her heat when she heard from home.

Expectations of what would happen during the shared heat and rut were next and she while she was sure her face couldn’t get any hotter, she was proven wrong. As awkward as it was though, at least she was talking it over with another woman; having the same conversation with Aizawa would have killed her.

Finally, it seemed that the verbal torture was finished as Recovery Girl reached into her medical bag with one hand and beckoned her closer with the other.

“Let me see your arm, I need to give you a preventative injection.”

“Ah, I uhm,” she stuttered, cheeks still reddened but not from the heat, “I’m already taking…”

Recovery Girl shook her head with a chuckle. “Presenting alters your existing biology by releasing additional hormones which awaken parts of your mind and body that contribute to the primal instincts of your secondary gender. Generic contraceptive methods would be fine for a newly presented beta but as an omega the hormones released at presentation boost your fertility to a point where the pill may as well be candy for all the prevention it does.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, ‘oh.’ Now unless you and that boy of yours have decided that you want pups within the year I need to give you this.” The syringe was brandished in front of her.

She held out her arm and she cleaned the area with a swab before feeling the familiar prick to her skin and the cold chill spread into her heated blood.

“Any last questions for me before he gets back?”

She went to shake her head but paused. “Just… what about our quirks?”

“Nothing to worry about, dear. Quirks take a backseat during these times unless a threat arises. Once bonded you will kill and die for the other and your pups, but for right now you two shouldn’t have an issue. I’d say ‘won’t’ but I think we both know your class has a habit of finding trouble, hm?”

“More like trouble finds us,” came a grunt from the doorway.

Katsuki reentered the room with her laundry basket on his hip and a tote bag over his shoulder. He visibly relaxed as he crossed the threshold and set her things on the floor at the foot of his bed.

She sat down on the plush area rug to go through what he’d brought, her legs tucked beneath her as Recovery Girl began speaking to him about the upcoming week like she’d done for her.

Rifling through the laundry basket she pulled out her pillows and blankets as well as her favorite hoodies, then she pulled everything out of the tote and put those sweaters and shirts onto Katsuki’s bed. Once everything was piled atop his sheets she began to sort through everything, enjoying the familiar smell of her own things mixing with the scent of Katsuki’s den. She hoped he would scent a few of his shirts and let her use his pillows and blankets for her nest.

“…and once you know the heat and rut have passed I’d like you to give me a call so I can come and assess you two.”

“Whatever,” Katsuki mumbled, his cheeks burning from the conversation as he took the offered slip of paper with her number. He’d never been more relieved to have a conversation end, and as soon as the door closed behind the terrible old bat he turned back to his girlfriend and his heart nearly stopped.

She was absently arranging his sheets with some of what he’d brought from her dorm to make the beginnings of her nest. Their combined scents filled his room to an almost dizzying potency but he had never felt more alive, more proud, and his inner alpha growled happily in his chest. Here was his mate, his omega, building a sweet-smelling nest in his den for the two of them and their pups.

The thought of pups broke through the haze of his instincts to allow nerves to set it. They were only eighteen and just about to finish their last few months at UA before becoming fully licensed heroes. Having pups wasn’t something they could do, at least… at least not now.

Recovery Girl had mentioned the preventative and rationally he knew that she wouldn’t give them something designed to fail and he was grateful for that but at the same time, he’d love to have pups with his mate. She was everything he could ever imagine wanting in a partner and he knew his mate would be the best mother to his pups. He’d thought so long before they presented and he was sure he’d think it until he took his last breath.

Her soft voice brought him out of his musings as she looked up at him through her lashes and shyly asked, “Could you… scent a few of your shirts and sweaters? For the nest?”

“’Course,” he replied, and seeing her eyes flicker towards his discarded pillows added, “You can use anything of mine. We’re mates.”

The heat-induced flush on her cheeks darkened slightly with embarrassment, but she nudged his pillow towards him anyway. He grabbed it and held it in his hands feeling both uncharacteristically anxious about scenting something for the first time and filled with pride at his mate seeking out his scent for her nest.

As he scented different things for her and she took them to construct their home for the next week or so he could see the flush fading little by little and he saw less sweat droplets running down her hairline. It was almost as if the larger and more structured the nest grew the tamer her inner omega became. That soothed him too, making him thankful for the calm before the storm of her first heat really began and pulled his rut to the forefront with it.

He leaned against the far wall as she worked in silence arranging their things into the what he assumed was a perfect nest—he didn’t know much about omega nesting instincts but it looked inviting enough to him that he had no qualms about spending the next week tangled with her in the textile haven. It was as if the movement she caused sent more of that sweet smell of hers wafting through the room and he could’ve sworn the sugary scent was getting stronger by the moment.

With a few last cursory pats to the sweatshirt walls she looked up at him.

"Do you think we'll lose ourselves in the heat and rut?" she asked quietly, shifting from foot to foot.

Katsuki sighed. "That's what happens with most people."

"You know, I… I knew you were it for me a long time ago, Katsuki. This morning is an amazing memory and I guess, even if this is how we get to spend the rest of our lives I'd like to remember this first too."

"Then maybe we can bond before it fully hits. I can… smell that it's going to hit hard again and that you're already feeling it creep up.”

The slick feeling between her thighs meant he was probably right. "Yeah. Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. I guess I'm just nervous."

"Hey, I know this whole thing became way bigger than either of us thought but I’m still me—the alpha part doesn’t change that. Shit I couldn’t even think of hurting you without wanting to die before, can you imagine what type of insufferably sweet asshole I’m gonna be now?” he asked with only mild disgust as he crossed his room to lay one hand on her hip and the other on her cheek.

The smile he received was worth the uncomfortable admission of his feelings; reassurance wasn’t his forte and sharing his feelings even less so but he’d always try for her.

“I know, and I’m happy you’re the one I get to be with.”

“C’mon, your nest looks good,” he said, easing her forward towards his bed. “We able to get in it yet?”

She kissed his cheek. “Yeah, let’s get in our nest, alpha.”

The shudder was hard for him to suppress, but he allowed her to pull him into the plush space where they laid together once more. They laid on their sides facing one another and Katsuki reached out to stroke his thumb over the back of her hand where it lay between them.

It was an unspoken agreement to take all the time they could before allowing themselves to indulge in the instincts of their new secondary genders, and they spoke quietly about what it all meant for them.

Mates were more permanent than marriage and fated mates even more so. The idea of claiming bites at only eighteen was daunting but at the same time it was always the plan anyway. Of course they knew they’d present but that seemed far off and more inconsequential the longer they were together prior to a few hours ago. They had their after-graduation plans and a claim had been a mutual desire, and even pups sometime in the far future. Secondary gender, as Katsuki had loved to point out, wouldn’t change that.

But with the presentations occurring and revealing them as an alpha/omega pair there were still some things that hadn’t been discussed or planned for, and they needed to be addressed.

“I’m getting warmer,” she murmured.

“We’ve got a long week ahead of us but it’s nothing we can’t handle,” he smirked.

She gave him a weak smile and pushed past her nerves to bring up what had been on her mind since her talk with Recovery Girl.

"Will… will you…?"

"If you want to, we can bond now while we're still mostly clear-headed. Some shit I’d like to remember too, you know?"

Her cheeks went pink. "No—well, yes that's probably a good idea but I… I'm… will you actually knot me?"

He choked on his tongue. "Fuck, shit, do you want me to? Do I need to? For your heat?"

"I don’t— Don't you need it to get through your rut?"

"It's… I don't want to make the decision for you, alright? If you want me to I will and if you don’t I won’t. ‘S always your choice.”

She rolled onto her side to face him, one hand rising up to trace his cheekbone and the slope of his nose, even the dip of his cupid’s bow until she came to a stop at his chin. She pressed lightly and he turned his head to look at her.

“I’m not afraid of you or anything like that. It’s all just very sudden and a lot to wrap my head around, you know? Six hours ago we were virgins and now we’re literally together for life. That’s not bad, just a lot.”

“I know,” he mumbled. “But it’s why I want you to make the call. I ain’t gonna force you to do something you don’t want. We got forever to figure our shit out.”

She laughed. “Yeah we do. For now though, I want you to. We’re gonna bond today and then heatshare, rutshare, and get tied together for the next week. This morning was amazing and now that we know we’re fated mates I think that’s gonna make it even better.”

“Once is all it took to get you addicted, huh?”

“Shut up!” she whined as she pushed against his shoulder and turned away with a blush. His loud laughter echoed throughout his room and she crossed her arms with a pout.

“Oi. Look at me.”

She rolled onto her side to face him again, lips still pouted cutely. His eyes were soft as he looked over her face and she felt proud of the small smile upturning his mouth as he did.

He reached out to smooth a hand over her hair and then gently nudged her shoulder. “Lie back.”

She moved onto her back and he settled himself over her, lying between her parted legs. It was familiar and made her smile; they’d laid together like this a hundred times over the course of their relationship and maybe it was the perfect way to cross into something more permanent.

“Katsuki,” she murmured, feeling his hands go below the tank top. He pushed it up and over her head, tossing it to the side and fixing her with an unwavering gaze.

His hands slid beneath her, pressed between her body and the sheets below, and he kissed her softly. Her hands slid up his back before settling over the solid muscle of his shoulders.

“’M gonna be the best alpha on the fuckin’ planet,” he said as they pulled apart. His lips ghosted over her cheek and down her jaw to settle at her neck. “Know I already got the best omega.”

“Will you say it?” she asked quietly, closing her eyes.

The huff of a laugh and curl of his lips on her skin made her shiver. He moved in closer to her and raised up to whisper exactly what she wanted.

“I love you.”

Her arms tightened around him and tried pulling him closer but she knew it would never feel like enough until they bonded.

Katsuki seemed to understand that too because he moved back to her neck and grazed his lips teasingly for just a second before sinking his teeth into the perfect spot as a claim.

She gasped as her head tipped back at the rush of sensations that seemed to flow from the bite. Her brain filled with static but her body felt a rush of coldness like ice water had been poured over her to combat the heat she’d been feeling for so long. Her heart sped up in her chest and she knew it was synched perfectly with Katsuki’s. The entirety of her being was aligned with his and the bond cemented as she let herself move forward and bite into her mate’s neck to stake her own claim.

Time seemed to speed up before slowing down again when she was tasting blood off of both her and Katsuki’s lips as his hands cradled her face and kissed her deeply. The coolness she had experienced during the claim had been almost completely swallowed by the heat she felt pulsing through her and becoming tangible as a needy whine against his mouth. He was so close and smelled so perfect and she wondered if she could feel him closer, her hands digging into the defined muscles of his shoulders as she held him against her.

“Look at my pretty mate,” he said lowly, his voice hushed. He nosed against the underside of her jaw just above the fresh bite as his hands roamed over her torso. “My omega, smellin’ so sweet just for me.”

The purr that bubbled from her lips surprised her but his warm hands on her and the quiet praise pushed it aside quickly when he kneaded her chest.

Her hands traced over his arms, fingers trailing down over dips of muscle. “The strongest alpha I know is all mine. I’m so lucky to have such a handsome mate.”

A please growl rumbled through his chest as her fingers hooked in his waistband and began sliding down the sweatpants until he was able to kick them off. He quickly returned the favor with her underwear to leave them both completely bare. With their scents completely unhindered for the first time with the bond formed, they could both smell the heavy, warm sweetness of roasted chestnuts and cherries that filled his dorm room. It was spicy but soft and made their heads spin knowing that this was them.

Katsuki’s hands roamed the familiar curves of her body as he leaned forward to kiss around the bite mark, feeling her lips against his neck as she did the same to him. Shivers ran up his spine at the contact and a groan escaped him as his fingers reached the apex of her thighs.

“Tell me what you need.”

She whined, hands splayed on his toned stomach.

“C’mon, tell your alpha what you need,” he coaxed.

“You,” she whispered. “Your knot. Your pups. Our pups.”

When we’re ready, was the silent understanding about the request.

Their hips met as Katsuki rolled his forward, breathy moans coming from both of them as they relished the still-new feeling of intimacy and clutched onto one another tighter.

Instincts took over, cutting the moment short, and filled with room with groans and whines and pleas between the two of them. There was no slow fumbling like there had been earlier but instead the primal need to be closer and chase the pleasure that came with the heat and rut.

She kissed him hard as the heat throughout her body pooled low in her stomach and she could tell the difference in the feeling of closeness but her hazy mind couldn’t dwell on it past knowing that this was what she needed, what would finally cool her down at least a bit.

“You’re mine,” she murmured as her back arched up from the bed and her nails dug into his shoulders.

“’M yours. You’re mine,” he grunted, mouthing at the bite once more.

Their scents were overwhelming the closer they came to their end.

“C’mon alpha, need your knot,” she whined, crying out as he still within her.

His teeth sank into the bond mark fully again, and she bit into his as she felt exactly what her inner omega needed, what she herself wanted, and allowed herself to succumb to the feeling of contentment and pleasure she would live in with her mate going forward. Warm and sated and full and safe with her alpha was where she wanted to stay.

“Bakugo. A word.”

He stalked over to his teacher, watching his mate step into the hallway from the corner of his eye. The new bond was sensitive and he was anxious when he couldn’t be with her. “What?”

“May I ask which of you proposed the idea of a non-traditional bite?”

“The hell are you talking about? We both have bites and they’re scarring the right way.”

Aizawa regarded him silently for a moment before waving him off. “It’s not important. Go.”

The blonde rolled his eyes and left the room, and he gathered his sleeping bag in his arms to set up in the corner for his midday nap.

It was annoying and awkward to have to deal with the paperwork and phone calls to guardians because two of his problem children couldn’t keep it in their pants while on campus—what he wouldn’t give to have seen Mitsuki Bakugo deal with this shit—and he certainly didn’t like the fact that he had to relay to the class what had happened either. He had prepared what would’ve been one of his best punishments to date for when the overwhelming scent of newly presented and bonded mates had lessened at least a bit, but it had all been abandoned the moment the two stepped up to speak with him.

Her embarrassment was obvious, the fact that her twice her age male teacher knew exactly what had been happening in that room for the past week probably enough to make her want to vomit, but furious blush aside she held herself well. Bakugo had (likely somewhat unintentionally) over scented the room alarmingly with equal parts calm for his mate and warning to his alpha teacher, his own blush prominent.

What stood out though, was the bond mark on her neck. It was already scarring which was to be expected and its placement was correct but it was backwards. Traditionally a bond mark was given to an omega by an alpha in the midst of a shared heat and rut, primal positioning meaning that the bite was given from behind. It was biology, instinct, the overwhelming need to lay claim—he understood that, had experienced it many times over even long after a bond mark was given. Fated mates were more susceptible to this too, especially when presenting early.

But this type of bonding mark made him think that it wasn’t fueled by that need or desire built deep into the rumbling chest of an alpha. At least, not completely. Looking into someone’s eyes was intimate, vulnerabilities laid bare before the person they’re going to spend their life with. That wasn’t easy, and a week prior he would’ve said that Bakugo would probably never be able to do it. To see that it was quite the opposite and seemingly unconscious on his part was fascinating.

He considered that instinct wasn’t the reason but the more he thought about it as he sat cocooned within the warmth of his sleeping bag, the more he realized it may actually be the opposite. Maybe it was instinct. Love was funny like that sometimes.

A/N: Please be sure to reblog, comment, review, and like if you enjoy! Feedback is what keeps me motivated! I have a few ideas about a possible sequel for this story that would take place in the future when they’re ready, though nothing concrete just yet!

[salemorbit]

Hi, sorry if I'm overwhelming you with Requests, but I had an idea for an Imagine that I'd really love to see you write!! Could you please write some Headcanons for how Link, Zelda, Sidon and Revali (Age of Calamity timeline for Sidon btw) would react to a young woman who has a very strong connection to the Spirits being sent to teach Zelda how to unlock her power? Like it's a young woman, around 18 years old, who has a natural ability to communicate with all manner of Spirits, maybe even is part Spirit in some way, so she gets appointed by the King of Hyrule to teach Zelda how to do the same? And maybe she's super nice and excited too? Thanks so much, I really appreciate it!!

oh darling you're totally fine i really appreciate it :D

i hope i did this justice! it's a really neat concept

i also made it an x reader with those attributes if that's okay :)

~~~~~~

Hylia's Guide

[BOTW x fem!Reader]

Headcanons (Link, Zelda, Revali, Sidon)

warnings: none

takes place during Age of Calamity!

also for headcanon's sake,,,,,being a descendant of hylia in this case doesnt mean that you're of the same family? if that makes sense? okay so like reader is descended from hylia and technically so is zelda but they aren't blood related in any way HAHA hope that makes sense

~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~

Let's set the scene, yeah?

You were one of the descendants of Hylia from centuries past, now a ghost in the afterlife as part of the universe itself.

Naturally, you would be surprised when you became sentient once more and blinked open your eyes in the middle of Hyrule Field. In your head rang a soothing voice that you both heard in your head and felt in your bones. In an instant, you knew it was Hylia communicating with your physical form again after years of dormant sleep.

The voice instructed that you were to aid Zelda in her studies of connecting to her powers. Hylia could not intervene directly with Zelda, of course, but the most the Goddess could do was send someone in her place. And that was you: a descendant of Hylia's own bloodline resurrected from the dead come to help the princess in her efforts. Easy enough, right?

Convincing the King and his guards of the situation was difficult, let alone trying to get him to allow you to assist his precious daughter with her practice. The only proof that you had of any story that you told were the markings on your hands and chest.

Three distinct triangles etched themselves on your body: one on the back of each hand and the third on your chest. Your powers had long since been passed on to the next descendant of Hylia, but you were still full of the knowledge of how to use Hylia's gift and how to communicate with the spirits.

•••

Link

Link was wary of you at first, being the princess's appointed knight and all, but he soon figured that you weren't as much of a threat as he initially thought

You were kind and excited to meet someone else who also held Hylia's gift (albeit not necessarily awakened, but still) and Link knew that Zelda would be safe in your hands

While going on spiritual treks with Zelda and Link, you almost always made the meals because both Zelda and Link can't really cook lmao

Coming from an entirely different era, you had a big book of recipes in your head that you brought into reality with every meal you made, and Link definitely wasn't complaining

He appreciated your wide breadth of knowledge of different foods, plants, and wildlife that you might encounter on your travels

It made planning protective measures for the princess all the easier

Sometimes the ventures to connect to Hylia didn't bear any fruit (and that's okay because the gift takes plenty of patience!) and the mood could become solemn quickly

But you were always determined to lift the mood and lighten everyone's attitude, and it always worked!

You would excitedly ramble off stories about where you grew up or what you liked to do on your own travels back in the day, and it would always make Link feel warm that you had such fond memories you were willing to share with him

When Zelda needed time to herself to try to connect to the spirits and Hylia, you and Link would hang around each other and bond

Link would listen attentively as you talked about the cultural and time differences between your world and this one, sharing sympathy when you expressed nostalgia over your time lost

But you would quickly turn it around to the positives, which is what Link thought was a wonderful quality that you had

If you ever got caught off guard while on ventures by the Yiga Clan or rogue animals, Link would fight just as hard as he would in larger battles to keep you safe

Over the time you spent together, Link grew very fond of you and always was at your side if he wasn't immediately attending to the princess

Once your guidance and knowledge finally broke through to Zelda and her power awakened, Link was so proud of you for fulfilling your duty

He was worried that you would disappear from his life once you completed Hylia's task, but you connected to the spirits after the fact and bargained with them

At the end of it all, you were able to live your life through again with Link by your side :)

•••

Zelda

Goddess was Zelda relieved when she found out that she would be having a guide to help her unlock her powers

Upon meeting you, she was absolutely floored with your kindness and willingness to help her with her problems

You were a wonderful mentor to Zelda, teaching her things about the different spirits and how to harness the power that she never would have dreamed of researching on her own

And wow there was a lot of information HAHA

Zelda was also transfixed with the fact that you came from another lifetime, and you were more than happy to tell her all about your life before this one

She would also take very detailed notes about everything you said, enamored with the way you spoke and how excited you got about things you loved

Quiet study time in Zelda's room would often turn into challenges of you trying to make her laugh with small tidbits of stupid stunts you would pull

Of course Zelda couldn't hold back a smile when you were around, so the challenges would fall short but with you falling into fits of laughter

You always brightened Zelda's mood whenever she was down about a failed connection attempt, urging her to try more and be patient with herself

Zelda was thankful to Hylia for sending you because honestly she wouldn't know what to do without someone that was as kind and generous as you were with spreading knowledge about your gifts

And when they finally awakened, Zelda couldn't be more happy!

Hyrule was now safe with Zelda's power awakened and Ganon on the edge of being sealed away

She pleaded that you find a way to stay in her time and teach her more about the spirits and Hylia herself

Your heart warmed at the thought that someone wanted you to stay, and it warmed even more at the fact that someone loved you enough to want to keep you forever :)

•••

Sidon

Sidon met you when he was summoned with the other Champion successors

You were the first to greet him and explain what had happened with the time jumping and all that, and you helped to put his nerves at ease

His own excitable and boisterous personality bounced off of your own energy and buzz!

Fighting side by side with you, Sidon admired how you always had a strategy and were looking out for Zelda as if she was your own sister

He was surprised upon learning your story: never had he known that Hylia had the power like that to bring someone back to help those in the present

Sidon tried his best to stay by your side whenever he could, wanting to keep your blind spots covered just in case

In your time, you had known the Zora and actually knew King Dorephan when he was a young little guppy, and your stories of Dorephan never failed to make Sidon laugh

Sidon in turn shared his own tales of the evolved Zora Domain, and you found his storytelling absolutely captivating

Sidon felt a pull to you like he had to no one else before, and he nurtured that pull with his own heart

He made sure you had enough supplies, checked in on you immediately when you came back from a far off mission

Just an all around softie I think! Sidon has always been caring like that :)

When it was time for him to go back, you discovered a way that you could jump with him back to his own time

After all, your mission with Zelda from Hylia was over. Why shouldn't you be able to live your life through again?

You jumped back with Sidon to a world vastly different than the one you had just been in, and even more different than the one you were born into

But with Sidon, it always felt like home!

•••

Revali

Revali didn't want to be impressed, but he was Definitely Impressed

Your composure about the whole situation was amazing, and you handled all the questions everyone had with grace

And your kindness was overwhelming (in a good way) with the fact that you opened your mind to such possibilities of even being resurrected like that

Revali admired you through and through

He would be incessantly curious about what the afterlife was like, how the spirits communicated with you, what Hylia was like

You, of course, couldn't accurately answer most questions because, well, you couldn't remember, but you appreciated his desire to learn

You loved the way that he fought: with purpose and intent. There was little to no hesitation with Revali, he always had a plan

When you would go to treks with Zelda and Link to try to summon Zelda's power, Revali would make comments here and there insisting that he tag along just in case

Poor Rito really just wanted to spend more time with you, that's all!

If he did tag along, it would be to Lanayru with his knowledge of the cold weather

He would rattle off safety facts of mountain weather and gear you would need, and you would be happy to listen as long as he was talking to you

Revali would also love to hear about your old life, and since you could go on for hours about it all, he would sit and absorb everything that came out of your mouth

He was smitten in a matter of weeks!

He could see the care and sympathy you had for Zelda as she struggled and triumphed in her process of opening her powers, and he appreciated that you could care so much for someone like that

Revali subconsciously protected you even if there was a leaf that fell in the way of your path, as he was always on alert in case someone caught you off guard

As your time came to a close and Zelda awakened her powers, Revali demanded that you stay (with love, of course)

And stay you did, making a bargain with the spirits and living the rest of your second life in the company of the Rito warrior :)

~~~~~~~~~

hope i got this good!! i thought the concept was really neat and i kinda wished they did something like that actually :/ zelda didn't deserve that angst

requests are welcome :)

[peppermintbee]

OMORI’s poor writing (Part 2)

Once again, if you are a big fan of OMORI, this review is not for you. Treasure this game, love it, recommend it, make fan art, buy the merch, do what you will with it. I am not here to take OMORI away from anyone. Based on the overwhelmingly positive reviews on Steam, I know that my opinion is in the minority.

However, just as the fans have the right to praise the game, I have the right to examine it, criticize it, and explain why it failed to provide a compelling experience. This is second part of my review where I will tackle OMORI’s problematic themes and disrespectful appropriation of mental health.

[ See Part 1: Plot Writing Lies ]

(Note: I use “OMORI” in all-caps for the game title, and “Omori” in title case for the character name.)

Spoilers and criticism below.

Part 2: OMORI’s message is mishandled and distasteful

OMORI provides a warning that it depicts scenes of depression, anxiety, and suicide. Because the game includes these scenes, I assumed these mental health issues are presented in a way that is meaningful and respectful.

However, that is not the case. 

Despite having depictions of such, this game is not really about depression, anxiety, or even suicide. It’s about committing a horrible crime, lying about it, and getting over the guilt.

1. Suicide as a game mechanic

Suicidal thoughts are intrusive, terrifying, and painful. As well as ending the victim's life, suicide wreaks havoc on the lives of those who once knew them. It is often a taboo topic, but discussing such matters is an important step to understanding and preventing it. Video games are a medium well suited to approaching such dark topics.

Unfortunately, OMORI does not handle the topic of suicide well at all.

First, suicide is written as a unavoidable game mechanic that seems to have been included for shallow reasons such as aesthetic and shock value. To leave Sunny’s headspace and wake up, you--as a player--must direct him to stab himself in the stomach. 

But why? It’s not like waking up involves some sort of major sacrifice. In fact, waking up is something that is more or less unavoidable. Reality should be something that snatches Sunny away from his headspace against his will, perhaps as an encroaching darkness that Sunny can run from, but never truly escape. But instead, facing reality is something you are forced to opt into in the most needlessly violent way possible.

Forcing you--as a player--to literally commit suicide just to wake up from a dream is a pointless, distasteful, and disrespectful action that sets a precedent for suicide not being taken seriously in this game. (And it isn’t.)

In the black space, Omori is pressured to kill a cat. In that scene, regardless of your choice, you are forced to kill yourself. However, the act of stabbing yourself has been seen so many times at that point that it has completely lost any impact. Who cares about suicide when it’s been reduced to just a means of travel?

Lastly, if you fail to defeat the final boss, Sunny commits suicide in the real world. However, this is not a cutscene, it is once again something that you--as a player--are forced to do to progress. Putting these actions in the hands of a player is not as meaningful as the writer seems to believe, because there are no other options to progress. Any weight in making that decision is lost to resignation; a frustrated sigh of “Well, okay, fine. I guess I have to click Z here.” You are then rewarded with a SLAPPING pop song and a psychedelic cutscene of Sunny falling to his death. It’s tasteless to its core and appropriates the deaths of every suicidal person as a quirky, shallow “bad end.”

(Seriously, this is how the writer decided to depict a child taking his own life.)

2. Sunny/Omori is a poor presentation of depression

Sunny/Omori does not smile. Even in past photographs before The Incident, he still is not smiling. The contrast between Sunny and his friends stands out like a sore thumb, so I assumed this was the writer’s attempt to show that Sunny is dealing with depression, where he can’t be happy even in happy situations.

Of course, if that were the case it would be inaccurate since depressed people do smile and do hide their true feelings. They are often dismissed with, “You can’t be depressed, I saw you smiling once.” However, I was willing to let Sunny’s chronic frown slide because sometimes you have to oversimplify an idea to get your point across.

Much to my surprise, there is NO evidence of Sunny having depression before The Incident and there is very little indication of him having depression throughout the game either. The evidence of this is that while looking at a family portrait, Sunny comments that he's never liked to smile. Since he's a a baby in this portrait, this goes to show that his not smiling is simply a preference -- a quirky character trait that makes him stand out so that you feel an emotion during the true ending when he finally smiles. 

Everything in the game seems to point to him being pretty happy and well adjusted up until he killed Mari. Then, even after he killed Mari, he pretty much looks and behaves the same way. Wouldn’t it be more jarring and tragic if you saw Sunny was happy in the past, but depressed now?

Which leads me to my next point...

3. Sunny and Basil are not depressed, they’re guilty (and for good reason)

In the book I Thought It Was Just Me (But It Isn’t), Brené Brown explains the difference between feeling guilt and shame.

Guilt means: “I did something bad.” Shame means: “I am something bad.”

Guilt, when attributed to bad behavior, is actually a healthy emotion. It means that you have a sense of right and wrong, that you empathize with those you’ve hurt, and it motivates you to make things right.

Shame is an unhealthy emotion. It arrests growth, destroys self-esteem, causes poor decision making, isolates you from your loved ones, and is directly correlated with anxiety and depression.

OMORI should be a game about overcoming shame. All the right set pieces are there. Sunny’s walled himself off, his sister (allegedly) committed suicide, and he seems to be struggling with lifelong depression. However, this all falls apart, when it’s revealed that he killed his sister and staged her death as a suicide to escape blame (with Basil’s help). He DID do something bad. It’s not shame, it’s literally guilt.

All at once, OMORI stops being a game about recovering from grief and depression and becomes a game that demands the player to sympathize with a killer and liar who is hiding from his crimes. Because he and Basil feel bad about what they did, Sunny and Basil are presented as greater victims than their actual victim.

4. OMORI asks you empathize with villains (with ZERO self awareness)

Games where you are playing a character with a guilty conscience has been told before, but where OMORI really fails is that Sunny is not truly held accountable for what he did to others. Instead, the game focuses on HIS pain: since killing his sister he’s been isolated, he’s having nightmares, and he’s suicidal. 

The plot of the game is focused on helping Sunny forgive himself for ruining other people’s lives. The writing barely acknowledges how his friends/family feel about what he did. When his victims’ pain IS addressed, it’s either used to further victimize Sunny (ie: isn’t it sad for him that he made his friends so sad?) or it’s used to reassure the player that Sunny’s victims have forgiven him (or will forgive him). 

In fact, the game holds Mari responsible for her own death, citing that her "perfectionism" must have been what pushed Sunny to attack her. OMORI presents Mari, through headspace, as someone who accepted death gracefully and wants Sunny to live a happy life. She is never given her own voice and nothing in the game suggests she is capable of feeling bitter over her death and postmortem desecration. She plays the role of the Madonna archetype--and the perfect victim--allowing the player to empathize entirely with Sunny while accepting that Mari brought everything on herself.

[Mari suggesting that Sunny acting out his aggression on her was her fault.]

The climax of this game is NOT Sunny telling the truth to his friends. The climax is Sunny defeating his guilt and forgiving himself. We know this because the story does not even show how his friends respond to his confession, because-- once again-- what’s most important thing is resolving Sunny’s pain, not the pain he has caused others. (Though the game does heavily imply that his friends will forgive him.)

[Pictured: the boys shedding their guilt is the true happy ending ]

Imagine, for a moment, if this game was about an abuser, who caused immense pain to someone and got away with it. Then, the whole game was about how they felt bad for the abuse they caused, and-- as a player-- you help them forgive THEMSELF for their past abuse. Then, in the last few seconds of the game, they either apologize to their victim or kill themself. The victim’s response is not shown because it is not important.

This is the plot of OMORI, except with a bunch of excuses thrown on top to make it more palatable. Sunny and Basil are just soooo cute and sad. Killing Mari was an accident. Stringing her body up like a piñata was a juvenile mistake. The boys feel SO BAD that they want to kill themselves. And because suicide is so tragic, you-- as an audience-- are manipulated into empathizing them.

5. In OMORI, suicide is used as a cheap ploy for sympathy

As I mentioned before, suicide is horrible and tragic. People struggling with suicidal ideation need help, support, and respect. That said, let’s make one thing clear: being suicidal does not automatically make someone a good person. There are plenty of examples of criminals who kill themselves to escape the penalty or guilt for something they did. It is so common in the news that I don’t think I have to list out examples.

In bad endings, Sunny and Basil’s suicides are 100% motivated by guilt for their very real crimes. Now, it should be stated, Sunny and Basil do not deserve to die. And because suicide is such an extreme, permanent end for those two boys, we-- as players-- are invested in preventing that tragic end at all costs.

However, the looming threat of suicide is used as leverage to force the audience to dismiss the severity of what Sunny and Basil did. As I’ve said before, the plot of the game is about soothing and alleviating Sunny’s guilt and stopping him from killing himself as opposed to making things right. 

The worst thing is, this tactic actually works. The threat of suicide is so strong, it has distracted many players from the truth that this story is about sympathizing with a boy who has killed his sister, with little regard for those his actions have affected (see point #4).

It’s terrible because suicide is such a serious topic worthy of discussion, but when used as little more than pity-bait, it twists your perception of what the characters did and silences those who try to criticize how this game handles such topics.

6. Mari's suicide being fake is a terrible twist

Lastly, by revealing Mari’s “suicide” as an accidental death, OMORI misses an opportunity to tell a much more powerful story. In the first half of this game, when Mari is thought to have committed suicide at the young age of 15, is a sobering moment. That tragedy is something very real.

If Mari had killed herself as opposed to being killed, Sunny isolating himself after his sister takes her own life is realistic. Mari’s death coming as a surprise is also realistic; how often have we heard people saying that they never knew someone was suffering? That they seemed like such a happy person?

Losing a loved one to suicide does not just cause horrible grief, but crippling shame as well. Those left behind will blame themselves, tormented by thoughts of how they could have saved them, how they would do anything to get them back. That shame can follow you forever, haunting you like a ghost, threatening you with the same fate. Overcoming that grief and shame is no simple task, and I truly thought OMORI was going to be about grappling with grief and letting go of survivor guilt.

Instead, Mari didn’t commit suicide, her life was cut short by her brother. Then, her body was staged as a suicide, forever changing how her family and friends perceived her. Her hanging body did not represent a devastating loss of life and horror of teen depression, but instead is a cheap twist that represents Sunny’s guilt for killing her and tampering with her corpse.

Conclusion:

As I’ve mentioned before OMORI has a lot of potential. The set pieces of a depressed kid who escapes to a dream world to cope with his unresolved trauma is one that had the makings to be very meaningful. However, it fumbles these issues, creating a sloppy plot that results in a problematic message. It’s baffling that this even happened, especially considering the length of time this was in development.

[dwellordream]

“…To be sure, fatness could often seen as ugly, effeminate, stupid, slothful, and sinful, while thinness was associated with holiness and muscular, lean body was considered manly and martial. However, only listening to the medieval fat-shamers is oversimplifying matters: body fat could also be seen as a sign of prosperity, social status, success, and even rulership. Furthermore, it was often men who were often going to great lengths to acquire a svelte body, while what we might consider extra weight today could be seen as beautiful on a woman.

First, the negative: While heroes of high medieval romance such as Ogier the Dane are often as heroic as trenchermen as they are fighting against Saracens, medieval Europeans inherited from classical antiquity, and in particular from the Roman writer Vegetius, an idea that military life and overweight are incompatible. To be big was not necessarily to be fat. A member of the knightly class was supposed to be both able to afford exorbitant amounts of food and to exercise enough self-restraint and largesse (generosity) to not eat it all himself. For instance, writers such as the twelfth-century Andreas Capellanus distinguished between the unbeautiful bodies of peasants (particularly male peasants) and those of nobles. Similarly, the late thirteenth/early fourteenth century mystic and writer on chivalry Ramon Llull said that anyone too fat was not fit to become a knight.

This tendency became particularly pronounced in the fourteenth century, when both literature and men’s fashion reflected the idea of a powerful but athletic build. Knights were supposed to be athletes, and martial fashion reflected this. The titular verdant cavalier in Sir Gawain and the Green Knight is broad of chest and slender of waist, and Chaucer’s Sir Thopas with his “sydes smale” (slender waist) goes riding over hill and dale. Surviving clothing from the period, such as the pourpoint of Charles de Blois kept in the Musee Historique des Tissus in Lyon (c. 1360s) is constructed to give the impression of a broad chest and shoulders and a tiny waist.

…However, we can find ambiguity about fatness even in the courtly tradition. Andreas Capellanus has a woman in one of his dialogues criticize a man with fat thighs as being unbeautiful—to which the man responds that fat legs are not incompatible with virtue. By 1456, Antoine de la Salle’s cynical romance Le Petit Jehan de Saintré ends by the titular hero’s beautiful mistress/patroness being seduced by a fat, unchivalrous abbot out of a fabliau. So, too with foreign lands—the fictionalized John of Mandeville tells of how foreigners ate inordinate amounts, and the romancier Rusticello has Marco Polo report on the prodigious appetites of the mighty men of Zanzibar.

Chief amongst the fighting class were kings and other high nobility, in whom all these qualities were exaggerated. The Carolingians saw prodigious eating (and a laden table) as a sign of rulership—Liutprand of Cremona reported much later that Duke Guido of Spoleto was rejected for the throne of France because he ate too little. (Of course, Liutprand was not necessarily saying this to be complementary of the Franks!) While advice manuals advised rulers to temper their appetites, as the ability to rule self and state were intertwined.

On the counter side, the ability to eat as much as one wished combined with the leisure to be indolent led to some notably large monarchs. We have no shortage of monarchs who were literally the “big men”—and who were criticized for it. Charlemagne himself was noted by his biographer Einhard as having quite a gut; his descendent Charles the Fat got his appellation for his slothfulness in defending France; William the Conqueror’s body could not fit in his sarcophagus; and Louis VI of France’s biographer praised him for going to war despite his enormous girth.

At the very end of the Middle Ages, Henry VIII kept eating like the athlete he had been in his younger days after a jousting injury sidelined him in his mid-40s. While Hans Holbein’s famous portrait of Henry makes the most of the ruler’s perhaps 400-pound weight (estimating from the dimensions of his armor) by presenting his girth as power, by the end of his life, he had to be carried around on a litter. Fatness was this attribute of both peasants and kings.

There was no shortage of defenses of largeness, or even positive depictions, in the less well-born. Peasants rarely got enough to eat, so positive associations between fat and plenty—“fat” soil, the “fat” of the land, and the pre-Lenten “fat Tuesday” feast—are not surprising. Chaucer’s Franklin’s plentiful and dainty table is a symbol of his prosperity and his desire for upward mobility, and his Miller, who is expert at defrauding his customers by keeping a finger on the scales, is “full big of brawn and also of bones.”

Fat clergy are stock figures in tales told by commoners such as French fabliaux, stories about earthly pleasures such as sex and food. Clerics are jolly, plump, and decadent everywhere from the anonymous thirteenth-century La Bourgeoise d’Orléans to Chaucer’s fat monk in the fourteenth century to the postmedieval image of Friar Tuck in the tales of Robin Hood. Their lifestyles were enviable to be sure, but such depictions can be seen as a bit of anticlericism criticizing their prosperity and ease in a time when many did not have enough to eat. Things are not always one or the other: We may admire billionaires’ wealth even as we wish to redistribute it. In the eyes of commoners, friars got fat off the hard work of others—but their largeness was something to aspire to.

Medicine and pseudo-medical writings inherited from the Galenic tradition tended to be value-neutral. To be sure, fatness could be associated with moral failing in “popular” manuals. The section on physiognomy that concludes Secretum Secretorum, supposedly written by Aristotle for Alexander the Great but probably composed in Arabic in the tenth century and translated into Latin in the twelfth, has little good to say about people (which is to say men) with “fat” body parts. On the other hand, Forth holds that the physicians’ manuals tended to not see body fat as a problem unless it became excessive to the point of being unhealthy or disfiguring.

…What about women, and what were Christian attitudes towards fatness? I’ve put these two significant categories last both because women’s bodies are so morally policed in our own society, and because some of our best sources on what medieval women themselves thought—especially explored by Caroline Walker Bynum in her classic Holy Feast and Holy Fast—were religious.

First, plumpness was by no means considered a bad thing in medieval women. Vigarello, in his Metamorphoses of Fat, sees largeness as the sine qua non of female beauty in early medieval romances. The late fourteenth-century Goodman of Paris says that a horse ought to have four qualities also found in comely maidens: a handsome mane, beautiful chest, fine loins, and large buttocks.

On the other hand, Mary, the teenage sister of Henry VIII, was noted by an Italian emissary on her arrival in France to marry King Louis XII as “slight, rather than defective from corpulence.” For women in religious life, though, control over food and extreme fasting—as Bynum explores in Holy Feast and Holy Fast—was a sign of sanctity. So, too, was women’s religious feeling explored in a gendered way by feeding others.

Medical discourses on women’s bodies considered mainly the aspects of health and reproduction. The twelfth-century medical handbook known as The Trotula, for instance, considers the effects of body weight on the age of menopause (35 in moderately fat women), or on choosing a wet nurse (she should be large-breasted and a little fat). For weight loss in both men and women, the author advises hot baths, steam baths, and even burying in sand to induce sweating. The resulting dehydration would, of course, be only a temporary loss of weight, and not a particularly healthy one in the sense we understand it today. Of course, The Trotula also specifies that a woman should also not be too thin, since this would likewise have a deleterious effect on fertility.

One would think that Christian asceticism would militate against fatness, and indeed, thinness could be holy. Religious fasting was mandatory for all Christians, and penance could include a restricted diet. For instance, the sixth-century Irish Penitential of Finnian has anyone considering murder or fornication abstain from alcohol and meat for a year. A cleric who strikes another is put on bread and water for a year, and actually fornicating earned bread and water for two years.

In the fourteenth century, Dante puts gluttons in the third circle of hell, and Chaucer’s clerk of Oxford’s thinness mirrors his love of books over worldly goods. However, this was not necessarily mirrored by reality: The foremost medieval scholar-saint, Thomas Aquinas, the “dumb ox,” was quite obese and suffered from associated comorbidities such as dropsy (that is, a swelling caused by insufficient lymphatic drainage, or, as it’s called today, edema).

Conversely, the extreme thinness of medieval ascetic women indicated a turn away from the pleasures of the flesh—not just, food, but also sex. Since, as medieval people knew, women below a certain body fat percentage often have problems of fertility, abstention from food could mark a woman’s body as not reproductively fit, that is, not that of a wife and mother. In this way, a woman’s fasting could be a way in which she turned away from male control over their bodies. Unlike today, medieval “dieting” (which was, of course, nothing of the sort) was an attempt to be less sexually appealing.

In religious art, saints and other heavenly figures are similarly portrayed as tall and thin—a visual rhetoric carried through to day by using tall and thin models to display fashionable clothes, elevating consumption to the level of worship. (Slightly curvier women, who read as more “voluptuous” and “earthy,” are employed as swimwear or lingerie models… though they still tend to be much taller and thinner than the average American woman.) One of the few exceptions to the uniform tallness and thinness of medieval art is fat wine steward in Giotto’s early fourteenth-century “Wedding at Cana,” whose fatness echoes his stubborn doubts about the miracle. Likewise, Jews were often depicted as fat as symbols of their spiritual sloth.

By the turn of the sixteenth century, Albrecht Dürer was showing how to portray people of different classes by physiognomy—peasants were stouter—and Martin Luther was joking that his middle-aged girth would provide a feast for the grave-worms. By the seventeenth century, painters such as Peter Paul Rubens or Charles Mellin’s, in his famous portrait of the hefty Italian general Alessandro dal Borro, were unapologetically portraying body fat. On the other hand, Rubens’ male nudes are rather fit and athletic, underscoring a dichotomy between female as passive and weak and male as active and strong.

As some of us may strive against it, and others may shame it, normal human variations of body weight have a long history. Our bodies naturally want to put on weight, and they want to keep that excess weight on. However, bodies are mediated through the social. Fatness was read in various ways by medieval people—perhaps as unmartial and unmanly for those who had no problem in obtaining food, but for the lower classes, it was something enviable and aspirational. For women, a certain amount of fatness could indicate fertility, just as a lack of it could indicate sanctity and a withdrawal from the world. But, no matter how it was read, polyvalent medieval attitudes about fatness and thinness were not our own.”

- Ken Mondschein, “Fatness and Thinness in the Middle Ages.”

[xsugarysweetsx]

Alrighty,~ Congrats again on 2k!! You produce awesome content, so you deserve every single one of those followers, as well as all the love you get ^_^ 

I would still like to request Option 3 for your event if it's not too much to ask. ^_^  For a BC character, please 🙏

Appearance: I'm 5 ft 7 (170 cm) and I would describe my body type as lean (long limbs, B cup, a bit of muscle, lightweight). I have green eyes, blonde hair that reaches just below my shoulder blades. I like to wear a lot of darker colors (black, dark red, navy, petrol green). And I don't like to wear make-up. 

Personality: I'd say that I'm a fairly assertive person (but if I'm proven wrong, or otherwise know that I'm wrong, I become relatively meek). I do like giving people advice or help if I can, and while at work I do like being productive. I have been told that I can seem "scary" because of the aura I portray though, but suppose that just comes with the "assertiveness" 😅 I like to think that I have a long temper and that I'm an understanding person, but I can be very stubborn; especially when it comes to following my own goals. 

In terms of likes: serenity (overall; as an atmosphere, but also as a quality in people). I like knowing what I’m doing, or at the very least, I like to know which I certainly don’t know. (Which in the grand scheme is very difficult, yes.) I also like allowing myself some time to breathe and unwind. Good food, good people around me; life’s simple pleasures. But I do also like to be out there, trying different things and activities, even if it’s only for one time.

Hope that's enough ^_^ 💕

*******************************************************

I match you with Fuegoleon! Unironically, I think you guys have a lot in common and I can honestly see you together so please enjoy~

A/N: thank you so much I hope you like this!

******************************************************************

“Come on Y/N I know I can do better! I can handle more!" Leo called to you as you stood up straight once again from the attack. It was training day and Fuegoleon wanted you to help out Leo on attacks.

"Leo you know we're only training on building your strength for now. Once you get the hang of it we can move to something more, come on let's take a break" you wave him over and he came whining, wanting to continue his training.

Coming to your side you ruffle his hair as you walk over to where your boyfriend was. You were lucky enough to be dating Fuegoleon Vermillion. He was much more than his title as a royal or as a captain. He was a gentleman, kind, and strong, and so many other attributes you loved.

"Good work today, both of you. Leo I can see your improvement and Y/N you're a wonderful teacher, as expected" he complimented you both

"Thank you, brother!"

"Thank you dear" you smile giving him a peck to his cheek. "so how was the-"

"Captain Fuegoleon~" oh boy here she came. Yeah recently got new recruits into your squad. And unfortunately, you had a new girl with a little crush on your boyfriend. She wasn’t subtle about it either she was very outspoken about it and has even hinted at them dating.

Now for someone who was a very intelligent man but when I came to this he was a bit dense. He simply replied with “I’m flattered by your feelings but I am currently in a relationship already, sorry."

you appreciate the effort but you still get annoyed by her. So at this point, you simply just stand up and go over to Fuegoleon and put on some PDA for her. Standing behind him you wrap your arms around his shoulders and rest your chin on top of his head. You make sure to look at her with a nice smile just to get the point across

"Yes, what can I help you with?" he asked

"Well, I...um...," she tried to concentrate on him but "n-never mind I can figure it out on my own" and with that, she was on her way back

"Y/N, I think you're scaring off the new recruits..." Leo pointed out

"huh? Me? Scary?" you ask confused

"Yes, you can sometimes have a very intimidating aura just like our sister," he explained as a chill ran down his spine.

I took your head to the side to believe him right now. You always try to perceive yourself as a nice person, or maybe you did have sort of a scary aura. It was the word is and powerful than any, some like Leo compare you to his sister. Huh, maybe that's why she liked you so much...

"Y/N, may we take a walk please?" Fuegoleon offered, standing from his seat. You nod with a smile and take his hand in yours. he took him to the direction of the gardens where a small walkway with available. It was very peaceful with many flowers, shrubs, trees. In fact, this is the same spot where he asked you out on a date. Only this time he was a bit more dazed out than usual. Like he was thinking but also hiding something.

"You alright there? You look a little zoned out," you ask him

"I'm fine, just thinking is all." he reassured you with a smile "although, I did want to speak with you. Nothing big, just a conversation with you."

"Oh? And what would that be?" you asked intrigued by his secrecy

"Just thinking back to when we first met was all. You had challenged me saying you could bring me down in 2 minutes or less. Little did you know I'd take you down in mere seconds," he chuckled "You know what I thought after I beat you?"

"Oh goodness, what? That I was a fool?" you chuckle

"No anything but that. I thought you were...cute." he admits "The fire in your eyes and how determined you were to prove you had what it took. And I found it very endearing, you truly are a wonder Y/N"

Bringing you to a fountain he sits with you on the edge and gazes down to the water. You take your seat next to him and gaze down as well.

"Awh Fueggy, you're so sweet." you smile

"I'd like us to marry" he said casually

"W-what?" you were shocked to say the least. That was something else you loved about him, but it also made you laugh. He was blunt and sometimes the sweet talking thing wasn’t his strongest suit.

“Was that not the appropriate way of asking?” He asked you confused “I had asked Yami and Nozel how to bring up the question and they told me to simply ask you.”

Sigh, poor baby “Fuegoleon, those two are the last ones you want to ask for romance advice. The way you would want to ask if just fine with me.”

“Oh alright then.” Standing up and closed his eyes and concentrates his hands dance in front of him as he writes Inter he ground with elegant fire “how about this?” He asked

In the ground he had wrote “please, be my wife?” Standing up you walk around the message and to him and peck his cheek “now this is more like you, but are you sure? There are plenty of eligible royals and girls of wealth”

His warm hand comes up to cup your cheek with a soft smile “why should I find them when I have you? I’m sure if it, I want to marry you….”

“Alright then, I will marry you, Fuegoleon” a loving, but passionate kiss was shared between you both in the garden.

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I hope this was okay! ♥️( it most likely wasn’t :( )

[cto10121]

Does R&J Play With Gender Stereotypes?

So I came across this piece of meta by @hamliet that rather intrigued me:

There’s also another layer here: the imagery Romeo uses for Juliet (the sun) and that Juliet uses for Romeo (the moon) is the inverse of how imagery was typically presented in those days. The moon was feminine; the sun, masculine. Even if we look at Romeo and Juliet’s respective character traits, Romeo is the flighty, impulsive, love-struck one who cries all the time, while Juliet is the decisive, bold, and loyal one. That’s the first thing Juliet declares to Romeo in the balcony scene: that she will always be loyal, and she shows this in every choice she makes in the story.

Let’s break this down.

“the imagery Romeo uses for Juliet (the sun) and that Juliet uses for Romeo (the moon) is the inverse of how imagery was typically presented in those days. The moon was feminine; the sun, masculine.”

Romeo does indeed call Juliet the sun, but Juliet never calls Romeo the moon—or likens him with anything symbolically feminine, come to think of it. The closest she or the play gets is a small but clear association with night: Romeo has “night’s cloak to hide me from their eyes” and Juliet implores “loving, black-browed” night to give her her Romeo. Even then it is so that he can “make the face of heaven so fine / That all the world will be in love with night / And pay no worship to the garish sun.”

Instead, Juliet consistently uses the same love language of authority as Romeo does with her, calling him her lord, husband, knight, “day-in-night,” “mansion of a love,” “god of my idolatry,” and, (my particular favorite), “tassel-gentle” or “falcon.” “Pilgrim” is the lowest social rank she uses, but of course she is following Romeo’s pilgrim-and-saints flirtation and its wink-wink bilingual allusion to his name. Romeo’s use of “sun,” then, could be viewed in the context of both lovers conferring cosmic/earthly authority, beauty, ownership, and sovereignty to each other—the Elizabethan equivalent of calling each other wife/husband. And of course they begin doing that immediately after they marry.

Even if we look at Romeo and Juliet’s respective character traits, Romeo is the flighty, impulsive, love-struck one who cries all the time, while Juliet is the decisive, bold, and loyal one.

Definitely not. Romeo is plenty decisive and bold—making the first move in wooing Juliet, climbing the orchard wall, showing himself to Juliet, immediately agreeing to marry her, nearly killing himself when he thinks Juliet might not take him back and, er, actually killing himself for her. I wouldn’t say he is impulsive, either—though he makes decisions fairly quickly, it is almost always with some deliberation beforehand (“Can I go forward when my heart is here?” “Shall I hear more or shall I speak at this?” and his monologue after Mercutio’s exit) and of course there are instances in which he restrains himself (“I am too bold” and his monologue after Mercutio’s death). The most accurate description of Romeo is that he is a risk taker—at least when he is well and truly motivated. And even then it does not rob his deliberation or even his wits.

He is also not flighty. In fact, he proves just as loyal as Juliet—as soon as he meets her, he forgets about Rosaline and leaves her clear behind. He doesn’t once waver in his conviction that Juliet is for him and makes plans to die with her (and does!). His love for Rosaline is clearly framed by the narrative as shallow, performative, and passive, and the verse bears this out. He was never in any kind of relationship with Rosaline—his love was an unrequited crush that he was at perfectly liberty to have ditched, frankly. After that, it’s Juliet, Juliet, Juliet until he dies.

Also, once more, Romeo is no crybaby. He explicitly cries a total of two times—one even before the events of the play, when he pines over Rosaline under a grove of sycamore, and another when he’s 1) seen Mercutio get mortally wounded, 2) killed Tybalt, 3) learned that he is banished from the city, and 4) mistakenly believed that Juliet no longer wants him (the Nurse’s reply is vague enough to be misinterpreted); at the very least he is devastated to have been the cause of her pain. Anyone would break down in those circumstances. Juliet herself breaks down on hearing the news and arguably is more verbally vehement than Romeo—namely, that even the words “Romeo is banishèd” are worse than if herself, Romeo, her parents, and Tybalt were dead. She ends that monologue with a passive suicide threat: “And Death, not Romeo, take my maidenhead!” How anyone can argue Juliet isn’t as lovestruck as Romeo is beyond me.

What Shakespeare was most likely aiming for was showing the mutuality of R&J’s love with parallel scenes and even language. Both have chances to act strong, decisive, and bold, both show vulnerability and great emotion and passion, both are lovestruck. Both demonstrate so-called “masculine” and “feminine” traits, which is almost always culturally-and time-based, anyway. There are only a few key differences between the two—almost all of the above traits, however, they both share. It’s almost as if…Shakespeare understood that no man or woman had all masculine or all feminine traits.

Moving on to the conclusion:

In other words, Shakespeare was deliberately playing with gender and its stereotypes in the play, which gains an even more interesting layer to it when you consider that Shakespeare was himself almost certainly bisexual (his sonnets are preeeetty explicit). It’s not a patriarchal narrative; it can well be seen as a queer narrative in a patriarchal society. And it shouldn’t take two kids having to kill themselves to get society to realize how effed up it is. It isn’t an out-of-touch play, but instead one extremely relevant to our society 500+ years later. 

In other words, Shakespeare was deliberately playing with gender and its stereotypes in the play, which gains an even more interesting layer to it when you consider that Shakespeare was himself almost certainly bisexual (his sonnets are preeeetty explicit).

You just opened up 200+ years of fandom wank, OP. I’ll just do a quick sum-up.

The Sonnets are a complete mess. They are contradictory as hell, there is clearly more than one persona speaking, there is evidence that Shakespeare edited and revised them, evidence they were published with his permission, quite a few sonnets are based on pre-existing sources, and, most damnably of all, none of the most likely candidates for the so-called Fair Youth and Dark Lady fit the narrative of the Sonnets perfectly or even satisfactorily—if there is even a clear narrative to these things to begin with. Sonnets were artificial works whose clichés and conventions were heavily satirized in Shakespeare’s own works—Berowne’s own rant-y sonnet swearing he would never believe in love sonnets comes most readily to mind. They were usually not meant to denote an actual real-life relationship, although there was a kind of “game” in trying to figure out which parts are true and which ones fiction. At least one sonnet sequence had a completely fictional addressee (Fulke Greville, I think).

Shakespeare’s sonnets do break a lot of these rules and conventions, and radically, and as they seem to have been compiled over many years, they lend themselves to autobiographical speculation. But, as a bit of a poet myself, I feel this: No one writes 154 sonnets—plus a whole narrative poem!—to one lover or even multiple lovers. Poetry is much less personal than laypeople think. Outside the sonnets, Shakespeare is not linked to any man romantically, and, besides his wife, only to two women (unnamed citizen’s wife and Jane Devanant).

Even if we assume Shakespeare’s bi, though, that doesn’t mean R&J is a queer narrative, which brings us to…

It’s not a patriarchal narrative; it can well be seen as a queer narrative in a patriarchal society.

A queer narrative that has its lovers express their love through the language of heterosexual marriage (husband, lord, wife, lady, pilgrim/saint), and commit suicide by a chalice-and-blade symbolism that mimics heterosexual sex (Romeo drinking a “cup” of poison and Juliet stabbing herself with Romeo’s dagger. Freud couldn’t have done it better). If Shakespeare was thinking “gay allegory!!!” he would have had to at least change or erase the symbolism (straight coding?) of the double suicide, or have Juliet attribute to Romeo explicitly feminine imagery. He would have to have done some major plot rejiggering. He would have had to, in short, change the whole story.

(Unless by “queer narrative” you mean “anything that has an emotionally constipated male lead who doesn’t growl sexily and a female lead who doesn’t cry/faint at the drop of a hat.” That’d be most every narrative, lol.)

Also, I’m hard-pressed to think of love romances that are 100% patriarchal narratives, and those that do (Casablanca, maybe?) are not really true ones, anyway. Patriarchy inherently opposes all romances of love and sex, including heterosexual. It demands that men be raised as soldiers to kill enemies, slaughtered, and discarded, and women as chattel and land to be bought and sold. Marriage was that transferral of property. Having children is necessary, not out of love and care for them, but to propagate the species and create even more future warriors and womb incubators. It grudgingly accepts only (mostly straight and like maybe 1 or 2 gay) love narratives that can be subsumed into this narrow paradigm, but the tension of interpretation is always present. Ideally, it prefers to ignore, diminish, scorn and mock, or even suppress them. I suspect most people’s problems and discomfort with R&J stem from this pathology, this deep-seated unease over anything that touches on human experience patriarchy can’t quite control or subsume.

Shakespeare was obviously no lover of patriarchy (in his personal life, though…well, it’s debatable). His plays resist it greatly to various degrees, and R&J is no exception. R&J hews much closer to the reality of heterosexual love and love in general, which are informed by, though are not inherently tied to, patriarchy (as are gay relationships, sadly). Shakespeare is just being a good writer in throwing most of that rotten apple away; it doesn’t apply to what he was trying to do, anyway. R&J’s challenge to patriarchy, though, is heterosexual in nature.

And it shouldn’t take two kids having to kill themselves to get society to realize how effed up it is. It isn’t an out-of-touch play, but instead one extremely relevant to our society 500+ years later. 

True dat.

[beebrainedstudios]

A Few Notes About ADSOM’s Writing/Themes Type Stuff

Because I’m in the mood to ramble and have a few opinions about some smaller things in the series that I actually think are really cool/smart writing. This is all personal opinion and is based on a bunch of half-formed thoughts and realizations, so if you disagree or think I missed something, please know I probably did, I’m just jotting this down for fun and have not fully explored all these concepts yet. They just seem neat at first glance. Also, other books have probably done some of this stuff too; I’m not saying Schwab is the only one who’s done any of this stuff, I’m just saying that it’s cool that it’s in ADSOM. 

- First of all, props to Schwab for Alucard. I know there have been plenty of authors who have brought new characters in later in a series with no prior warning, but I have rarely seen one so immediately popular and gripping in a trilogy as Alucard except for Finnick from the Hunger Games. Alucard’s introduction doesn’t come at the cost of another character (as in, he’s not there to make someone who’s supposed to be bad look even worse) and his arc doesn’t supersede anyone else’s. He’s great, and the fact that he is generally considered part of the main group despite being introduced a whole book later is awesome and a testament to his character. 

- Sort-of connected to the previous point, but I think one of the reasons Alucard works so well is that he doesn’t have a giant arc. Everyone else in the series has a fairly complex internal conflict going on (excluding Lila, but she still has a long arc even if it’s shallow) and Alucard does too, but his is one that suits his shorter presence in the story; he doesn’t have to become king/learn to stop running from responsibility/change allegiances every five minutes. He just has to figure out how to confess a painful secret to several people who aren’t willing to listen. Schwab, especially in ADSOM, isn’t afraid to give characters different size arcs at different times; if you graphed them all, it wouldn’t be a bunch of near-identical lines that could be mistaken for one, it’d be a bunch of crazy curves that start and end at different times and reach different heights. When authors who have larger casts do this, it instantly makes the story twice as engaging. Alucard’s just a good example of this.

- I know this one’s a bit more controversial, but Kell/Lila actually has a lot of narrative potential for Threads of Power. In the main series, it’s framed against Rhy/Alucard, which is already an established relationship (even if it took a break) where the two characters know each other well; this is why, once Alucard can confirm he never meant to leave, the two get back together relatively smoothly and happily. Their relationship is much more matured than Kell and Lila’s, which is why Kell/Lila’s chemistry can sometimes read as a little strange (at least to me), and why I don’t think it’s necessarily a perfect relationship just yet. Lila is a very strong personality with a bit of a demanding streak; Kell in turn has a massive problem with caving to others and refusing to stand up for himself (I’m gonna talk about this later). Left unchecked, this will become a problem, but if addressed in Threads of Power, it can lead to two really engaging arcs with Kell learning he does not have to be everyone’s emotional punching bag and with Lila learning that it isn’t enough to just stay in a relationship- there has to be give and take, something she hasn’t demonstrated well yet. Maybe they’ll even take a break in Threads of Power to give the pair time to mature (I’m personally rooting for Alucard and Kell to somehow get stuck together while Lila gets stuck with Rhy). IDK, I think Kell/Lila is cool, especially when taken as a work in progress over a fully fledged relationship.

- This is part of the previous point and part of the following one, but I think the fact that Kell’s personality and problems are largely focused on his tendency to avoid conflict is a really cool idea for a protagonist, especially a man (note that I’m not calling him weak here). This may not sound like Kell’s personality, but let me explain. Kell is insanely noncombative, and almost everything he does to try and solve a problem reads to me as him actively trying to avoid confronting someone about it. “I don’t feel like part of the royal family because I have no princely attributes despite being one in name, and while I acknowledge I’m lucky I still can’t get rid of these feelings”- Smuggles instead of talking to the Maresh (he tried with Rhy and Lila and look how that turned out). “I’m feeling pent-up because I almost died multiple times in less than twenty-four hours/have trauma and am being punished with isolation/no longer even being called a son despite the fact my magic acts up when this happens”- Competes in the Essen Tasch instead of talking to Maxim. “I hate you because you hurt my brother’s feelings when you abandoned him and I had to pick up the pieces”- Consistently antagonizes Alucard instead of really confronting him/letting him explain himself because that would mean that Kell’s ingrained-trained protectiveness of Rhy has caused another problem. Kell is a character who seems very proud and sure of himself, but when one looks closer, he actually has very little confidence. He has no self-respect, and that sets him up great for his narrative foil- Holland.

- Holland and Kell have a complex narrative relationship as two very well developed foils, and a lot of this has been addressed by the fandom before, but one of the most interesting points I haven’t seen much of is their thematic exploration of respect vs pride. Holland is a character who doesn’t like himself- this much is obvious- but while he takes no pride in his own actions, he has an insane amount of self-respect. He has to be literally forced into following another’s will, he doesn’t let other people’s opinions get himself down, he gives as good as he gets always no matter how hard it is. Holland has to be beaten into submission, and even then he simmers with righteous anger over it because he knows he should get to make his own choices. Holland has self-respect; I may hate myself, but that doesn’t mean I will let you disrespect me. 

Meanwhile, Kell is a people-pleaser who puts on a facade of confidence who never actually uses it. Kell has pride in himself- in things like his magic, his coat, his wit- but he doesn’t actually have a lot of self-respect. He folds to anyone who is more demanding than him (AKA everyone else in the series), and the other characters abuse this constantly. Rhy, whether he means to or not, uses his influence over Kell to keep him from standing up to the Maresh over their constantly-shifting parenting positions. Maxim and Emira use their affection and respect like bait to get Kell to do what they want even when he’s uncomfortable. Lila can yell at Kell about his upbringing or accuse him of overprotectiveness (sometimes fairly, sometimes not) and Kell will simply stop talking. Kell just lets this happen; he doesn’t ever stand up for himself because he has been convinced things are usually his fault. I may like myself just fine, but I will let you walk all over me because it’s not my place to stop you and I’m probably the problem and also I shouldn’t have wanted XYZ in the first place. It doesn’t matter how much Kell debates with himself if he started the conflict or if he rails against the way he’s addressed- as long as Kell isn’t respected by his loved ones or the people around him, he won’t respect himself, and that is simultaneously really interesting and really, really sad. 

- Also on the Holland and Kell front, Holland using Kell as the metaphorical scapegoat for his issues makes perfect sense, especially since I think he actually knows he isn’t in the right. Kell is often in places where Holland is at least uncomfortable and at worst in pain, and he is the tangible representation of Red London, the world Holland hates most of all. I’m convinced Holland’s brain put two and two together, which is why Holland often punishes/hurts/hates Kell for Red London’s systemic issues even when it is obvious to everyone involved Kell isn’t to blame. Holland lashes out at Kell in their first meeting because he’s offended that Red London is successful and White London is not; this isn’t Kell’s fault. He blames Kell for a)killing him and b)killing the Danes and stealing his vengeance; this also isn’t Kell’s fault. He even seems to get a little bit of satisfaction over the idea of sicking Osaron on Red London through Kell, despite the fact that making a deal with Osaron wasn’t Kell’s idea either; it was Holland’s (Kell didn’t have a choice to kill him and didn’t think he’d survive, but Holland still seems to interpret it as Kell banishing him to Black London, even though he would absolutely do the same thing in his shoes). Holland is a very angry person and Kell is unfortunately put in his way a lot, but I still think it’s neat that the very-rational Holland seems to have an awareness that this behavior isn’t fair/has unfair intentions but still is unwilling to stop anyway. He’s using this grudge as a coping mechanism and that feels really realistic to me.

- Minor point here, but the knowledge that eye color and stuff is incredibly varied and changes with magic use makes my little artist heart very happy indeed. 

- I’m a big Osaron fan, and one of the things about him that I think is really cool is how completely unconcerned with revenge he is. Yes, he holds grudges against the Antari, but he doesn’t seem to care that he got locked in Black London for centuries. He has taken no personal offense over it, and that makes him seem even more inhuman to me- Holland spent like six hours in Black London and he carried that grudge for ages. Also, his complete certainty that he was not going to repeat the Black Plague in Red London is hilarious to me- he’s like a dog that keeps knocking its toy somewhere it can’t reach because it doesn’t compute that repeating the same action will always have the same result. Surely this won’t go wrong again, Osaron thinks, as the world once again starts dying off. He’s kind of an idiot, and I love that.

- The fact that Kamerov is both a knight and silver themed during a time when Rhy is throwing himself into his role as the Golden Prince may be unintentional, but is still cool nonetheless.