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gimme-mor · 3 years

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ACOTAR THINK PIECE: ELAIN ARCHERON, UNTOUCHABLE

*DISCLAIMER*

This will be a long post.

Please take the time to read this post in its entirety and truly reflect on the message I am trying to send before commenting. My goal is to use my background in Gender and Women’s Studies to deconstruct the comments I have seen on Tumblr and Twitter and bring awareness to the ACOTAR fandom.

The reason I am tagging “Elriel” in this post is to call attention to the arguments in the Elriel fandom that: weaponize Elain’s femalehood to shame real life people for their opinions about Elain’s character and her relationship with Lucien; victimize Elain’s character in fandom discussions; and coddle Elain’s character, which limits fandom discussions about her narrative development and prevents the ACOTAR fandom from holding Elain accountable for her actions and inactions in the same way that the fandom holds other characters accountable for their actions and inactions. It is for these reasons that I WILL NOT remove the “Elriel” tag from this post because all of the above points contribute to the toxic discourse surrounding Elain’s character.

I urge those who use these arguments to understand their implications, why they are problematic, regardless of intent, and reexamine their contributions to the ACOTAR fandom. I WILL NOT tolerate anyone who tries to twist my words and say I am attacking people and their personal shipping preferences. In fact, I AM CRITIQUING THE ARGUMENTS THEMSELVES NOT THE PEOPLE USING THE ARGUMENTS.

Also, I highly encourage the Elriel fandom to read this post because it addresses how the concept of choice as an argument enables arguments to exploit social justice and feminist languge in order to vilify Elucien shippers, among other problematic things.

Elain Archeron is one of the most polarizing characters in the ACOTAR fandom. Though opinions about Elain vary, arguments in the Elriel fandom cite society’s perception of traditional female characters in comparison to non-traditional female characters as the reason behind the hate, and this belief is used to provide an explanation as to why other characters in the series are favored over her. In the series, Elain is portrayed in a wholly positive light and this image carries over into the Elriel fandom, painting her character as a good and kind female who has been unfairly wronged and a victim of circumstances that were out of her control. When arguments in the Elriel fandom oppose other viewpoints in the fandom, they fall into one of three categories:

Category 1: Weaponize Elain’s femalehood to shame real life people for their opinions

Maybe people who hate Elain are just jealous of her in a weird way similar to when someone hates the pretty, nice, and charming girl in school just because she is too perfect

Disliking Elain is misogynistic

What happened to feminism? What happened to women supporting women? What happened to she can say no? All of that disappears the second you force Elain to be with Lucien

Elain antis are misogynistic

All Eluciens are Elain antis

Antis claiming they’re feminists when in reality they hate on Elain and Feyre but love Nesta

Elain antis are such sore losers. Y’all were that bunch of people who could not get over being rejected from hanging out with the cool kids so y’all are projecting your hatred towards pretty people now to get validation

I don’t get how Elain’s love for gardening equals boring for some people. I’m sorry your misogyny finds traditionally feminine activities boring

Why are you attacking a female? What did Elain do? Where are your feminist voices?

The fandom is misogynistic towards Elain

If people loved Elain they would ship Elriel

If you hate Elain it says a lot about your feelings toward women

If you hate Elain because she has no “development” then you must hate Azriel because otherwise you’re misogynistic

Eluciens are turned off by the idea of a woman that has the autonomy to reject a man for the simple reason that it is her choice

Eluciens are all about feminism and “it’s HER choice” until it comes down to females not wanting a male

Eluciens don’t respect Elain’s feelings when they ship her with someone that was part of her trauma and makes her feel uncomfortable

The way some Elucien shippers completely disregard how uncomfortable Elain is around Lucien is so hilariously not funny. Prioritizing being mates over Elain’s feelings is just regressive

It’s hard as a fan of Elain to see someone ship her with a person who makes her physically uncomfortable to be around. Wouldn’t you want both characters to be happy to be around each other

Imagine if SJM saw all the awful things her “stans” had to say about Elain

It’s true that we know comparatively little about her, but is she really boring or do you just not value stereotypically feminine traits?

So y’all are just gonna tell me you prefer Elucien over Elriel? Even though Lucien treats Elain as if she’s something that belongs to him? The only reason he wants to be with her is because she’s his mate, he doesn’t respect her, doesn’t treat her as his equal, even though that’s what mates should be? He doesn’t bother to look past what’s on the outside to see her for who she is. And Elain is obviously repulsed by the idea that she should belong to anyone or have no choice in who she can be with. Azriel is her friend and the only person who sees her quiet strength. He has so much faith in her, in her abilities; he’s the one who kept her company when no one else did, he’s the only one who bothered to see her for more than her brokenness. You’re going to tell me you still prefer Elucien over Elriel?

The more I see Gwynriels that ship Elucien out of their hate for Elain, the less I can understand Elain stans that ship Elucien. Pls Elain has made it very clear that she doesn’t want Lucien, why would you ship her with him? Do you hate her too? Smh

The real question would be, if you care and understand Elain why would you ship her with Lucien (where she canonically shrinks when he is near)?

People crying over Helion and Lucien’s mom not getting to be with each other and her being forced into a relationship she didn’t want, but also ship Elucien? Just say you hate Elain

When Elain’s book is out, Gwyn stans will look like clowns and I will laugh because they set her up by shipping her with Azriel just because they hate Elain. Watch them play the victims now because Elriels are clapping back the hate they’ve sent towards Elain

As romantic as wanting girl who is visibly uncomfortable around a guy who caused her trauma to end up with the said guy. Guess their standards for romance are in hell

Category 2: Victimize Elain’s character

Gwynriels only want Gwyn with Azriel because they despise Elain

Gwyn stans and Gwynriels are Elain antis

No one in the books dislike Elain, so why are there so many people who do?

Elain hasn’t done anything wrong or questionable to warrant the hate she gets

Not having Elain’s POV makes it easy for people to be swayed a certain way about her character if you already don’t relate to her in some way

It’s been years since this series came out and we haven’t gotten a lick of an Elain POV, but people still hate her for what? We don’t know her thoughts, dreams, or aspirations

We haven’t even had Elain’s perspective yet and people are passing these judgments off on her

Elain antis who say she’s boring are just cruel when she has obvious symptoms of PTSD like Feyre and Nesta

Gwyn is one of the most overhyped characters and that’s only because most people hate Elain and they couldn’t wait to find a random girl to ship Azriel with

Nesta was abusive to her sisters but Elain (who has only ever been kind) is painted as the villain

From the text we know that Elain is the epitome of feminine stereotypes (gentle, gardening, baking, non confrontational for the most part). Yet people still call her boring or deny that she has any interesting character traits?

You can’t love Nesta and hate Elain

People hate Elain because of internalized misogyny and lack of taste. All the girl does is tend to her garden and mind her business and they treat her worse than Tamlin

Does Gwyn deserve all this support? Of course yes! She is amazing! But where’s that support when Elain was in the same situation as she? Where’s that support for her right now? Why do they idolize Gwyn for her interactions with Azriel and hate Elain for having any interaction with him?

It’s not even a ship war anymore, they just hate Elain

People hate Elain for no reason

Some of y’all don’t like feminine traits and it shows

We know less about Eris and Helion but people don’t call them boring. Why would rejecting femininity make Elain more interesting?

Elain has had a lot forced upon her

The main reason I believe most people love Gwyn so much is to get Azriel away from Elain. It’s not a secret that Elain has been a widely hated character for years so suddenly we get a new female who has a minimal amount of interactions with Azriel and BOOM. New ship that once again doesn’t make sense (just like Azriel x Emerie after ACOFAS)

Elain hasn’t done something so terrible for her to get this hate. At this point some of you are just being misogynistic and you don’t want to accept it. Don’t call yourselves feminists and then say bs like this, it’s embarrassing. She’s pretty and everyone agreed to hate on her

Just a personal feeling, but I feel like a lot of the Elain hate stems from internalized misogyny. That to be a strong female lead, you need to pick up a sword and fight. That to be strong, you need to adapt traditionally masculine traits

Elain is feminine. She is beautiful. She loves to bake and garden. She is docile, quiet, observant, and a people-pleaser. All traditionally feminine traits. Yet for some reason, she’s like the worst in these people’s eyes?

I think also maybe a lot of people can’t relate to her femininity? That her being so beautiful and quiet doesn’t allow for the people who dislike her not to self-insert? Most of the hate stems from people not wanting Elain to be with Azriel. It’s mean, but maybe the people who hate Elain literally just can’t self-insert if they have a story and that’s why they’re vehemently against it?

Poor Elain. The Cauldron dealt her a bad deal. Upon emerging as Fae, she is immediately declared by Lucien as his mate, never mind that she was already engaged to a prick. Her love life is not good

It blows my mind how they really think that they can compare all the shit that Elain gets with some dumb jokes about Gwyn on Twitter (and yes, the “hate” towards her started mostly because Elriels are clapping back, it was bound to happen)

I would think of it as anti-feminist with Elain and Lucien because she has consistently stated that she does not want him so if she was forced to embrace the bond that would be taking away her right to have a choice but with Az she feels comfortable around so if they were mates then Elain would be happy and feel safe which again should be the priority for women to feel safe in their relationships with anything and to not be forced into any type of situation aka the mating bond in this

Category 3: Coddle Elain’s character

Elain has value the way she is, in all her domestic girly glory. Not every character has to be badass

We don’t speak of Elain’s flaws frequently because everyone else already speaks badly of her, mainly in an unfair way

There is definitely something deeper going on with Elain but by no means will she ever be evil or any less feminine. That goes against everything we already know about her

It’s ok to critique Elain because she needs growth but y’all keep forgetting the shit her and her sisters went through

The last “bad” thing Elain did in ACOTAR was not help Feyre when they were impoverished and I’m tired of people acting like she’s a terrible character when it was their father’s responsibility. It happened 4 books ago and Feyre has forgiven both Nesta and Elain

Elain’s character and the evil Elain theory are a great example of the trend where people only consider female characters interesting if they reject femininity

We don’t know enough to hate Elain

Many people want Elain to turn evil (which in my opinion seems to come from a place of internalized misogyny)

However we don’t tend to talk about her faults, at least not publicly, as that has been, and still is, done to death, and I--personally, at least--find it much more fun to theorise about potentially interesting aspects of the overall plot, than dwell on negatives

And ultimately, I would be shocked if Elain has a more karmically-charged story than Nesta, considering that Elain’s “wrongs” are so much less severe and bad than Nesta’s, and Elain has already apologized for them (or paid the price in other ways, like through what Graysen did)

I guess I also think Elain has suffered and been punished enough. I hope her story is about finding hope in terrible situations, and learning to love her new life, and choosing her own path after everything that has been done to her. I don’t think she needs to be punished anymore or face any additional trauma

Also, why is she being judged on her decisions as a human at all? Fae are monsters to humans! They enslaved them for thousands of years, and the Wall was erected to keep them out

Like I’m sorry, but think Elain would want to leave her ONLY FAMILY AND FRIENDS for the Spring Court where she has no one because--oh look, lots of flowers!--is the craziest thing I have ever heard

Her sisters are in the Night Court. Her nephew is in the Night Court. Her closest friends (Nuala and Cerridwen) are in the Night Court. Her love interest is in the Night Court. Her extended family is in the Night Court. Her home is in the Night Court

SJM isn’t going to keep two sisters together and split up the third. Especially not keep Feyre and Nesta together and separate Elain. They were either all going to end up in separate places, or together. Not 2 here and 1 there

Compared to the other female characters in the series, Elain is the only character whose femalehood is at the center of conversations; this is because arguments in the Elriel fandom fixate on it when discussing her character. While Elain, Feyre, Nesta, and Mor are all representations of white womanhood and white beauty, Elain epitomizes the most fragile version of white womanhood. It’s easy to blame society’s perception of traditional female characters in comparison to non-traditional female characters when it comes to the discourse surrounding Elain’s character because it: falls in line with the fixation on Elain’s femalehood to silence opposing viewpoints; is a simplistic explanation that fails to tackle the underlying issues with Elain as a character, the same issues that are downplayed in-universe; absolves Elain of her wrongdoings; prevents the ACOTAR fandom from holding Elain accountable for her actions and inactions within the series; and diminishes the impact Elain’s actions and inactions have on those around her. It’s not that Elain is hated in the fandom because she’s a traditional female character; it’s the fact that arguments in the Elriel fandom deflect a critical analysis of Elain’s character because she’s a traditional female character who embodies the ideal white woman in need of protection. White fans and white-aligned fans of color, especially white women, have a tendency to vehemently defend, gatekeep, and coddle white female characters in fandom; this makes it difficult for other fans to engage in critical discussions about these white female characters because they’re viewed as flawless and all around perfect characters despite evidence to the contrary. Since Elain is viewed positively by the other characters in the series, it has rendered her character untouchable to any perceived slight or criticism in fandom discussions because those negative opinions challenge what has been said about her character thus far. And as a result, her character has been placed on a pedestal and implicitly hailed as the epitome of white womanhood; and when she’s criticized, it’s seen as a direct attack against white womanhood. Arguments in the Elriel fandom: exploit feminist language and perpetuate white feminist tactics under the guise of defending Elain’s character; center Elain in conversations about female oppression in the ACOTAR world and uphold white feminist ideologies in their critique of ACOTAR’s patriarchal society; and use the fragile white woman narrative to victimize Elain in Lucien’s presence, playing into racial biases that are associated with white supremacy’s defense of white womanhood.

Feminism is a social movement that seeks to promote equality and equity to all genders, and feminists work toward eradicating gender disparities on a macro-level, in addition to challenging gender biases on a micro-level. As feminism became more mainstream, a flat and oversimplified version of feminism emerged: mainstream feminism. The mainstream feminist movement is meant to represent all women, but rarely does it center conversations around issues that concern most women. The problem with mainstream feminism is that it’s just a popularized version of white feminism. White feminism has relied extensively on an individualized understanding of women’s oppression, exclusively from the lens of privileged white women. White feminism only focuses on the oppression experienced by white, able-bodied, affluent, educated, cishet women; and it views gender as the key mode of privileged white women’s oppression, isolated from the privileges granted by their other social identities. White women can be and are oppressed under the patriarchy but only because they are women; their identity as women does not exempt them from the privileges granted by their whiteness. The term white feminist does not mean any feminist who is white, but refers to feminists who prioritize the concerns of privileged white women as though they are representative of all women. However, the term is not exclusive to white people. Because white feminism is so pervasive, people of other racial and ethnic backgrounds often buy into white feminism, believing that if they work hard enough, they may be able to reap its rewards.

Just like white feminism, mainstream feminism only recognizes the identity of being a woman, assumes that all women share common experiences of gender oppression, fails to address other social identities in relation to overlapping systems of oppression, and disregards privilege in relation to various social identities. Just like white feminism, mainstream feminism is palatable because it doesn’t seek to challenge the systems in place, instead its goal is to succeed within them. Essentially, mainstream feminism and white feminism are extensions of performative feminism. Performative feminism is a type of performative activism that’s used to describe feminist views that are surface level and solely for the benefit of one type of person. It’s a pretense which often has nothing to do with genuine activism. Arguments in the Elriel fandom normalize and promote performative feminism because the topic of feminism is only referenced when discussing Elain. This indicates that these arguments are engaging in disingenuous discourse to push a personal agenda within the ACOTAR fandom, and it becomes more apparent when they use white feminist tactics to shut down opposing viewpoints:

White feminists weaponize and exploit feminist language to silence the opinions of other women, especially when they’re called out for their problematic behaviors

White feminists use the phrase “Women supporting women” to defend other white feminists who exhibit problematic behaviors instead of holding them accountable

White feminists weaponize phrases like “Women supporting women” and “You just hate women” to attack other women who disagree with them on any given topic

White feminists use phrases like “All women face challenges” and “Stop pitting women against each other” to sidestep conversations about privilege

White feminists divert conversations away from privilege and towards the Trauma Olympics to equate their struggles to the oppression of marginalized people

White feminists skirt around the realities of other forms of oppression and discrimination, downplaying the experiences of marginalized people

White feminists diminish or ignore the ways in which gender oppression affects other marginalized people

White feminists paint those they harmed as aggressive, mean, or divisive when confronted with the ways they have harmed a marginalized group

White feminists deflect criticism by focusing on the anger or emotions being expressed rather than the issue that is being discussed, invalidating the concerns of marginalized people

White feminists speak over marginalized voices in an attempt to sound “woke”

White feminists get defensive and insist there’s no way they could be a part of the problem because of what they’ve done to help marginalized groups already

White feminists say they don’t see color in an attempt to obscure racial issues that need to be addressed

White feminists center and victimize themselves in conversations about racism, which derails necessary conversations from taking place

White feminists who are white weaponize the intersectionality of their race and gender to avoid accountability

Feminism is not meant to be approached from an individualistic perspective nor is it only about addressing the experiences of privileged white women, it involves addressing the intersections of race, class, gender, sexuality, (dis)ability, and other social identities as well; and it involves addressing how these social identities relate to privilege. Moreover, feminism is not about women upholding complete loyalty to other women because of a shared gender identity, and to claim that it does implies that women should be held to different emotional standards than men. If men are able to dislike and criticize other individual men, real or fictional, without their characters being compromised, why aren’t women granted that same privilege?

It’s clear that SJM set up the ACOTAR world to mirror a patriarchal society, and that the imbalance of power between males and females stems from sexism. Arguments in the Elriel fandom analyze the ACOTAR world through a feminist lens to show how ACOTAR’s patriarchal society, to which the mating bond is innately tied, contributes to female oppression and limits their agency. When choice and free will are emphasized as part of Elain’s arc, they imply that Elain, through the mating bond, experiences female oppression under ACOTAR’s patriarchal society because of her identity as a female with that identity being the focal point of her oppression in the world. Elain is one of the most privileged characters in the ACOTAR world: she’s High Fae; she’s the sister of the High Lord and High Lady of the Night Court, which gives her access to wealth and political influence because of that connection; she’s able-bodied; she was magically blessed by the Cauldron; and she lives in Velaris, a place that grants females autonomy and power because of the beliefs of Rhysand and Feyre. Arguments in the Elriel fandom trivialize female oppression in the ACOTAR world because they disregard the fact that Elain’s privileges prevent her from experiencing female oppression in the same way that other marginalized females in the world do. The mating bond being one such example because those around Elain are not forcing the bond on her, instead they’re allowing Elain to reach a decision about the bond for herself; a privilege that other marginalized females in the world probably wouldn’t have. Just because Elain has endured hardships in her life and is a female in a patriarchal society, they do not erase the privileges she holds within the ACOTAR world. The failure to include Elain’s privileges in discussions about Elain being a female in a patriarchal society feeds into white feminist ideologies because white feminism operates from a very narrow perspective; it doesn’t take other intersecting identities into account when it examines gender oppression, leaving no room for discussions about privilege (or lack thereof) in relation to those intersecting identities. When discussing oppression in hierarchical societies, it’s imperative that privilege is also included in the conversation because privilege and oppression are not mutually exclusive; they equally affect the ways in which people navigate those societies through their social identities.

Rather than attributing Elain’s uncomfortability to her new life as a Fae female or the mating bond itself and her trauma to the Cauldron, the King of Hybern, or Ianthe, they’re placed on Lucien to cast his character in a negative light. Moreover, fandom discussions portray Lucien as a possessive character to further emphasize Elain’s discomfort despite the inaccuracy of this characterization in canon. Arguments in the Elriel fandom play into racial biases when it comes to Lucien (a male character of color) because they mischaracterize his character in order to victimize Elain (a white female character), placing her character in the role of the white damsel in distress. In Western society, the concept of womanhood has been conceptualized from a Eurocentric perspective with femininity and feminine attributes favoring white women. It’s the idea that a certain type of femininity is only inherent to white women as they are seen as the embodiment of an ideal womanhood. White womanhood has been a symbol of innocence and purity, and white women have been viewed as fragile beings in need of protection. The reason white womanhood functions within white supremacy is because it’s the same idea that has motivated white men to kill and beat black and brown men. The so-called protection of white women has been used as a justification for the horrific violence committed by white men because black and brown men were stereotyped as aggressive and seen as a threat to the virtue of white women. The white damsel in distress trope considered white women as worthy of protection because of their perceived innocence and purity; women of color were not granted that same treatment because they did not fit into the ideal image of womanhood. Over the years, this trope became a means for white women to exercise limited power in a patriarchal society with white women weaponizing their status as the damsel much to the detriment of black and brown men. It’s through the white damsel in distress trope that white supremacy sustains its dominance in Western society. The misrepresentation of characters of color in fandom, the dismissal of their importance to the overall story, and using them as tools in arguments centered around white characters are the foundation of fandom racism; they’re examples of how racism moves silently in fandom spaces. Instead of examining their behavior and taking constructive criticism from fans of color, white fans will often double down on their bigotry and center their uncomfortability in the conversation when confronted with their complicity in fandom racism. White fans expect fans of color to swallow fandom racism in its many forms in order to not ruin the experience of fandom, dismissing the fact that racism is prevalent in nearly every aspect of society. This mentality ensures that no one is held accountable for the harm they caused and alienates fans of color in fandom spaces.

To reiterate what I mentioned in my first think piece: terms like “oppression”, “the right to choose”, “feminist”, “feminism”, “anti-feminist”, “anti-feminism”, “internalized misogyny”, “misogyny”, “misogynist”, “sexist”, “sexism”, “racist”, “racism”, “classist”, “classism”, “discrimination”, and “patriarchy” are all used in specific ways to draw attention to the plight of marginalized people and challenge those who deny the existence of systems of oppression. Yet these words and their meanings can be twisted to attack, exclude, and invalidate people with differing opinions on any given topic. When social justice and feminist terms are thrown around antagonistically and carelessly to push a personal agenda, it becomes clear that these terms are being used to engage in disingenuous discourse and pursue personal validation rather than being used out of any deep-seated conviction to dismantle systemic oppression. Being an ally, activist, or feminist is not an identity, it’s a practice. It requires: ongoing self-reflection; holding ourselves accountable; listening to marginalized people; educating ourselves; dismantling implicit biases; challenging those around us who are exhibiting problematic behaviors; and action behind our words.

It’s important to be aware of the language that is used within the fandom when defending or critiquing characters and ships. It’s also important to question how an argument is framed and why it’s framed the way that it is to critically examine the intent behind that argument: is it used as a tool to push a personal agenda that reinforces problematic behaviors, or is it used as an opportunity to share, learn, enlighten, and educate?

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Tagging: @spell-cleavers @bookofmirth @m0bulidae @ilya-boltagon

#elain archeron #elriel #acotar fandom #acotar: fandom critical

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kylorenisadorkable · 3 years

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How TROS Failed Rey

These are just my opinions and from my personal perspective, if these things worked for you in the movie then cool, but this is why it was never going to work for me.

A Feminine Power Fantasy

Growing up in the 90s there wasn't a ton of media that had female lead characters. I grew up with strong female characters but they were often relegated to being the token girl of the group (see the Smurfette principle), the story was never centered around them and we never got to experience things from their point of view or really get to know their story. It felt like I was being asked to relate to male characters but boys were never asked or expected to relate to female characters.

Just as young boys see themselves as Luke, leading the adventure I also wanted to see myself as the main character. I wanted to have my own adventures.

When I first saw TFA, I went in knowing nothing about the movie. I had seen the OT and the Prequels as a kid and I had thought they were ok but I wasn't a huge Star Wars fan and in hindsight I really think this was due to the lack of female representation, Leia and Padme are great but I never really felt like I really got to know them as people. Not to mention that these characters are 2 women out of a cast that's predominantly male, it just seemed like the message LF was sending was that Star Wars is for boys, yeah girls can watch it if they want to but this isn't a series that is meant for you. So as you could guess I wasn't really expecting much from these new Star Wars movies, but I was pleasantly surprised.

I fell in love with Rey's character during those first 3 minutes of her introduction. During this brilliant example of “show don't tell,” story telling they were really able to convey so much about Rey's character and personality, I really began to care for her and felt like I understood her, as I could relate to her loneliness and isolation in my own way. And I was excited to see a story from a major fantasy/adventure franchise told from a feminine perspective. It felt like I was finally getting the representation I wanted to see.

So what happened? How did we go from Luke's line “And I will not be the Last Jedi” which is essentially him “passing the torch” to Rey, the next generation, to “One day I will earn your brother's saber?”

As if the saber didn't already choose her in the Force Awakens? Why did they decide that all of a sudden Rey was unworthy? Didn't Yoda say “that library held nothing that the girl Rey didn't already posses?” which yes was a clever way of saying that Rey already took the jedi texts with her but was also implying that she already had everything she needed within herself to be a jedi (courage, humility, compassion etc...). Why did they take a step backwards in the last movie in the franchise? Insisting that Rey needed to train, that she suddenly wasn't good enough?

I can't say for sure what happened to lead up to this point. Was it just that the creative team gave in to the pressuring of a loud minority of alt-right youtubers and bots. Were they relying on Reddit and Twitter for public opinion rather than doing actual marketing research? While I think that this was definitely a big factor I think there was just a general misunderstanding of the characters on Terrio's and JJ's part to begin with.

What Does Rey Want/Need?

To know where they went wrong, we have to ask ourselves who is Rey? All characters have a story goal, or the thing they want. By the end of the story the character will either get what they want after some struggles of course or learn that the thing that they want isn't what they need. So what does Rey want? To understand what she wants we have to first understand her wound or past experience that caused emotional pain and interferes with the character's life. Rey's wound stems from her abandonment. Along with the wound, comes the concept of the false lie. What is a lie that the character believes about themselves that we as the audience knows is untrue? Rey's lie is first, that her family is going to come back for her.

The other lie she tells herself is the belief that she is worthless because she was abandoned, as she tells everyone she meets “I'm no one“ or “I'm just a scavenger.”

When Daisy Ridley was asked in an interview why Rey says she's “No One.” Ridley says it's because our relationships to people define so much of who we are and without relationships then who are we? This makes sense considering that our parents are major influences in our development and in how we think about ourselves through much of our lives.

Rey seeks out parental figures, thinking that through them she'll figure out where she belongs. “Whoever you're waiting for on Jakku, they're never coming back. But there's someone who still could. The Belonging you seek is not behind you. It is ahead.”

Rey initially believes that Maz is referring to Luke and when she later sets off to find him. She believe that he is going to be able to give her answers, and provide her with the belonging that she longs for, but Luke ultimately ends up disappointing her but finds comfort in her relationship with Ben.

This goes back to the idea that what Rey thinks she wants, Isn't necessarily what she needs. As JJ stated in the directors commentary of The Force Awakens, “So there was a very powerful idea that what she desperately wanted was belonging, which she’ll get, but just not how she expects.”

JJ and Terrio try to fullfill Rey's need through “found family” the family she finds with her friends and the resistance, but I think there is more to Rey's desire of wanting family that can't be satisfied by this alone. Finn, Poe, Leia are definitely a part of her journey in finding belonging but they're not the final piece to the puzzle. Otherwise she would have felt completely fulfilled by the end of The Last Jedi when she is on the Falcon surrounded by her friends.

I think part of Rey's desire for family, is also the desire to be understood, to be “seen.” Rey even tells Finn in TROS that “People keep telling me they know me. No one does.” We hear Ben's response in the trailer “But I do...” (which was cut from the movie)

Ben has always been shown to be the person who truly “sees” Rey. He sees even the aspects of herself that she doesn't like to acknowledge. Recognizing that her holding on to her parents is affecting her negatively and that if she really wants to “find herself” she needs to let go.

Which is why when Ben says “You have no place in this story. You're nothing. But not to me.” What is really being expressed is “I don't care about where you come from and I see you for who you are.”

This is why I believe that Ben was always suppose to be the final piece to the belonging Rey is searching for. As their narratives are intertwined. They both satisfy each others needs as characters, Rey's need to be seen for who she is and Ben's need for reconciliation and healing within his family.

Rey Palpatine

Rian Johnson said that when he began working on The Last Jedi, he wrote out all the character's names and next to them wrote what would be the hardest thing for that character to face. For Rey, this was that she needs to stand on her own two feet and define who she is for herself but JJ and Terrio seemed to have misunderstood this as Terrio states that,

“We also thought that Rey’s arc cannot be finished after Episode VIII. You can leave Episode VIII and say, “Well, now, Rey is content. She’s discovered her parents aren’t Skywalkers, or whatever, and that’s fine.” But so much of her personal story was about where she came from, what kept her on Jakku all those years and the trauma that shaped her. We see quite strongly in Episode VII that something mysterious and troubling happened to her. Although she did get some answers in Episode VIII, we didn’t feel that that story was over. We felt that there were still more questions in Rey’s head about where she came from and where she was going. So, that was the other big idea that we had to address in this film. Rian’s answer to, “What’s the worst news that Rey could receive?” was that she comes from junk traders, and that’s true. She does come from junk traders; we didn’t contradict that.”

Rey's conflict wasn't that she came from junk traders. Rey didn't care about “legacy.” Her conflict stemmed from her abandonment. Rey thinks she's “a nobody” not because of her parent's occupation or lineage but because she feels that she must be worthless because why else would her parents give her up? Rey learning that her parents sold her off for drinking money, that they didn't want her, was already a difficult and traumatic truth to overcome. Star Wars is a coming of age story, in the OT Luke grows from being a boy longing for adventure to discovering what it truly means to be a Jedi (following your principles and having a compassionate heart). Rey's journey is about letting go of childhood trauma and discovering her own independence.

It's also strange seeing as JJ had previously stated during The Force Awakens press tour that “I really feel that the assumption that any character needs to have inherited a certain number of midi-chlorians or needs to be part of a bloodline. It's not that I don't believe that as part of the canon, I'm just saying that at 11 years old that wasn't where my heart was. And so I respect and adhere to the canon but I also say that the Force has always seemed to me to be more inclusive and stronger than that.”

And there was still conflict for her to overcome. The one person who she felt truly understood her is now the supreme leader of the first order, will the resistance discover their connection? Will they see her as a traitor? All of this had the potential for great external and internal character conflict, but for some reason they didn't see this as conflict enough to sustain a whole movie?

Instead they gave Luke's character arc in the OT of having a dark side relative to Rey. “Discovering that you actually descended from your adoptive family’s greatest enemy, the same enemy who corrupted Anakin Skywalker and is responsible for the destruction of the Skywalker family in the first place, felt most devastating to us.” This doesn't make any sense to me as it feel like they just gave Rey Luke's internal conflict of being afraid of his dark side, I don't think this was ever a problem for Rey. In fact, in The Last Jedi she leapt into the dark side cave to face her darkness (her abandonment). Luke even says “You went straight to the dark and you didn't even try to stop yourself.”

The dark side cave in The Last Jedi was symbolic of Rey coming to terms with her darkness (the parts of herself she wants to hide). It relates back to Jungian psychology (which much of Star Wars is based on) that people can only become whole through understanding both the light and shadow aspects of their personality. So it doesn't make sense for Rey to be afraid of who she is in the final movie when she just finished a journey where she learned to accept who she was?

Rey Skywalker

Terrio says that the decision to have Rey take on the name “Skywalker” was a way to show that “you can choose your ancestry.” Which is not true and also a strange thing to say considering the trilogy started with this:

But even if this was just awkward phrasing and what Terrio meant to say was that she considers the Skywalkers her family. Does this make sense considering that she didn't have a great relationship with Luke to begin with?

I've seen it argued that she took the name as a way of honoring Leia but Leia never took the name or considered herself a Skywalker. Also this is another step backwards for Rey's character as The Last Jedi was trying to assert that Rey does not need to keep looking for parental figures to define herself.

So why must she be a Palpatine, a Skywalker and “all the jedi” anyways? I think this was done for two reasons, the first was because by killing Ben they were going to kill the last of the Skywalker family and they wanted to keep the name tied to the franchise, in case they need the characters for future projects down the line, so they just pushed it onto Rey. The second reason is that I think they were trying to appease the misogynists' who spent the last 4 years calling Rey a “Mary Sue” so they explained her power away through powerful male lineage. It just feels so weird to me, like the creators are saying that we should like Rey not because of who she is as a character but because of who she is in relation to all these other characters we know you like (Luke, Leia, all the jedi that use her as a vessel etc...)

Daisy Ridley has even expressed her frustration with the Rey's lineage debate multiple times, “I love that Rey is such a great character, they’re like: ‘No, no, she has to be… she has to be-’She’s her own person! Let her be her guys, let her live.

Yet even at the end of the final film poor Rey can't seem to catch a break as she's once again asked for her last name. She once again has to justify herself for just existing. Why are surnames suddenly so important in Star Wars now anyways? Shouldn't the correct answer be “just Rey,” now that she's come to accept who she is and where she's come from and shouldn't that be good enough? What happened to the message of anyone can be a hero? That you don't have to come from or align yourself with a powerful family legacy. That we all have the power to make a difference?

TROS seems to be constantly asking Rey to prove herself. And weirdly enough it reminds me in a strange meta way of my own experience being a woman in the fandom and being constantly asked to prove that I'm a “True fan” (whatever the f@#% that means...) to prove that I'm worthy of consuming and participating in this content that male fans feel belongs solely to them.

In Conclusion

So what did our heroine gain in the end? Did she find family and belonging? No. So what does she have in the end? A yellow lightsaber (for merchandising purposes) and a surname of a dead family? I guess she finally has an answer to give all the nosey nellies, obsessed with ones pedigree that have suddenly popped up all over the galaxy.

It's not a satisfying ending for her, as she's basically right back where she started. Alone, in a desolate desert, once again staring face to face at an old woman (an old woman which at the start of the Force Awakens symbolized her fear of growing old and wasting away her life on Jakku).

Terrio states that this is not meant to indicate that Rey plans to stay here, “The very last thing Rey would do after all that is to go and live alone in a desert.” but when that is the last shot you chose to end the movie on then what is the audience suppose to think? The bigger issue however, is that Rey's ending holds no significance to her or her journey. Terrio says that “In our thinking, Rey goes back to Tatooine as a pilgrimage in honor of her two Skywalker masters. Leia’s childhood home, Alderaan, no longer exists, but Luke’s childhood home, Tatooine, does. Rey brings the sabers there to honor the Skywalker twins by laying them to rest — together, finally — where it all began.” Tatooine, the Lars homestead and the twin suns, don't mean anything to Rey. You know who did mean something to Rey? Who was the one person who understood her, who she had an intimate relationship with, who she explicitly states she wanted to be with? Ben. But he's gone too. But clearly a light saber and surname are more important. Again this all comes from a lack of caring for what Rey wants.

I just wish that the Sequel Trilogy had stayed Rey's trilogy, that she got to be a heroine in her own right not because she was a skywalker, or a palpatine or from some other powerful family. I will always love Rey but I will always hate what they did to her and I'm tired of people invalidating my feelings and telling me that it was a good ending or that it was empowering. I just want heroines to be taken as seriously and to have all the same privileges as male heroes. Let them stand on their own without connecting them back to every male hero in the franchise, let them be their own character, and finally just let them be human, let them fall in love and have relationships if they want to. Male heroes are never considered to be less of a hero for having a love interest, so why are female heroes? Basically what I got out of the Rise of Skywalker, was that it was created by a couple of guys that loved Luke and the OT and could care less about Rey and that's truly heart breaking.

#rey #rey nobody #reylo #ben solo #rey deserved better #rey deserves better #bring ben solo back #I love rey #aTROSity #just rey #reunite the dyad

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talkfantasytome · 3 years

Text

In Defense of Misogyny?

NOPE!

Before I start, I will not be defending misogyny. There is no defense for misogyny. I'm just a bit of a bitch who couldn't resist a controversial title. *shrug*

I saw a conversation recently about how horrible it is that the fandom loves Eris and is quick to hate Mor. I was going to post my response in a reblog, but I realized that, on top of the post ending up very long, I wasn't fully responding to the conversation at hand. I was sharing my own thoughts that only semi-relate.

If you're interested in that convo, you can find it here.

However, I am not going to directly respond to this, because the conversation made good points. And I very much agree, in theory, that we should not be more forgiving of males than females in general.

Instead, I just want to share my own feelings on why it may not be misogyny to like Eris and dislike Mor, and the main questions to ask to understand that.

First and foremost - I would like to state that we can not and should not hold women to a higher standard than men. In this, I hands down agree.

I will also agree that it absolutely can be sexist/misogynistic to love Eris and hate Mor. However, as someone who, while in the throes of ACOSF, was upset with Mor and still liked Eris (or, enjoyed him? I love Eris, but I'm not always 100% sure I truly love him, or the character and the mystery behind him and my own hopes of who he might actually be), I don't consider myself or my reasons to have been sexist.

Also, I would like to point out that I did not end ACOSF still very upset with Mor. My current feelings are that I hope to see more of her to fall back in love with the character, as I did love her, for the most part, especially in ACOMAF. And I totes ship Mor/Emerie.

That being said, I think we have to take a moment to consider a multitude of factors around why one might currently be more forgiving of Eris than Mor, as well as other pieces, that may or may not show this as true misogyny.

1. Why are we mad at Mor?

Personally, for me, yes, I don't love that Mor hasn't said anything to Az, even in the vein of just telling him it's not going to happen. It's not that she must do this, or that Az deserves that, specifically. It's more that it would be the right thing to do. But, I'm not mad at Mor for this, because I understand why she doesn't. Similarly, there is no male character who I'm solely mad at because they kept a secret.

No, what hurt me the most about Mor - and yes, hurt me is the best way to describe it - was her complete disdain and hatred for Nesta. I am, generally speaking, biased toward Nesta, and I do recognize this. But it doesn't change where I came from. She was horrible to Nesta almost from the get go. Sure, she brought Nesta to the Night Court and then, the next time we see them together, Mor is snapping at Nesta. She basically ignores Nesta when Nesta decides to join them for the High Lord's meeting. She causes Cassian to pull his hand away from Nesta during the war - which, admittedly, was a Cass action I'm still waiting for an explanation on, but it still had to do with her. Cassian was doing that for her, which means that he believed him holding Nesta's hand might hurt Mor or something - why? What is it that makes Mor soooo against this compared to everyone else? It's either a selfish reason - i.e. the buffer thing - or it goes back to her just hating Nesta the most. She then basically yells at Nesta for waiting at Cassian's tent when he's injured - for caring for Cassian. And then, in SF, when we first see her she is insulting Nesta to Cassian, and then straight to Nesta's face.

Perhaps it is all about feeling like Nesta brings her friends pain. Perhaps it is a fear of how Nesta could change the inner circle. But, we are never given Mor's full reasons, and even other POVs don't really give us anything to go off of. So all we see is Mor hating Nesta.

We see Mor hating a woman who has just gone through some serious trauma. Multiple traumas, really. And she probably disliked Nesta even as a human, though again we didn't really see them interact, only Mor being shocked at Cassian's declaration to Nesta. Which can't help but make you wonder if that played any part, too.

So, in the end, what made me the most hurt by Mor's actions toward Nesta, and words about Nesta, was the fact that Mor seemed to not care at all about what Nesta was actually dealing with, she only cared that Nesta was being a bitch.

Mor - who has faced her own horrific traumas, yet can't see it in herself to give someone else who has faced trauma the benefit of the doubt. Mor - who was so kind to Feyre, and very forgiving of Feyre basically ignoring her that first time she was in the Night Court, understanding Feyre's trauma. Mor was holding Nesta to a double standard. Basically, my hurt and anger toward Mor stemmed from the same anger that went into that original post - anger at a double standard toward a female who is suffering from trauma. Because Mor, one who often seemed posed as a defender of woman, a representation of how one can heal and grow from trauma, but how that trauma will still always affect them, couldn't find it in herself to even understand that Nesta was dealing with her own trauma, and what she needed was healing and help. Not insults and being thrown into the Hewn City.

Is it not maybe understandable how it would actually be harder to forgive Mor for showing such a double standard? For showing such little care or sympathy toward someone who has faced her own trauma? How saying that Mor should be loved because she has gone through so much might be almost hypocritical, considering who Mor is showing hatred toward?

I do understand how Nesta could hit closer to home. She sees Nesta to be as bad as the people she was raised with. But, honestly, that doesn't make it better. It just reminds me that Mor is actually often blind to the truth when she doesn't want to believe it or face it. She runs from it, she fights it, and while she is in her right to do so, it is not okay to do so by hurting another person, another woman who has also been through more trauma than Mor even realizes.

I don't find that anger, or upset (which is really more how I felt about Mor) to be a form of misogyny, at least not on its own. Because my feelings for other characters, my interpretations of their actions, may be wholly different, and it's not that I'm holding Mor to a higher standard. It's that I hold certain issues above others, and to me, holding people to a double standard is at the top of the list on what will annoy me about someone else the most.

2. Who else are we mad at? Is it only Mor? Or are there others we are also mad at, and for what reasons?

We should also consider who else a person is mad at, if not Eris, to see are they really holding Mor/women to a higher standard.

Using myself, again - the person I came out of ACOSF the most mad with/upset about was, hands down, Rhys. Not Mor. In fact, by the end of the book, I'd lightened a lot toward Mor, because I did see how Mor was changing and adjusting. She saw Nesta healing, and her attitude toward Nesta shifted. And, to be perfectly honest, I am SERIOUSLY HOPING we will see them have a heart-to-heart, get to know each other, get to understand each other, apologize to each other (especially Mor for how she's treated Nesta, and the things she said to her when Nesta was literally depressed and dealing with PTSD - cause those things weren't okay) and come out the other side, if not as friends, than at least as two females who respect each other. Because I think we all, including Mor and Nesta, need that. But, despite that, we did at least see Mor be better with Nesta. It showed Mor's openness to possibly accepting a new truth about Nesta, which I was happy to see.

Now, back to who are we mad at. Like I said, even if we're considering the middle of ACOSF, when I was fully upset with Mor, my feelings toward her never got to where they still are with Rhys - I don't care about his gifts, until he proves to me he actually cares even a little bit about Nesta as her own person and not as Feyre's sister, I will struggle with him. So, again, can we argue that my feelings were misogynistic if, in the end, my greatest anger was actually toward a man?

On top of that, my anger toward Rhys is far more aligned to what I was feeling about Mor. Because, again, it was about his treatment of a character dealing with trauma. If anything, my double standard is toward Rhys. I don't think it's a double standard, because my expectations of Rhys were higher considering his previous actions, and how he supposedly cared about all of his people. Not because he was a man, but because of what we see from him vs. Mor, particularly in ACOWAR. And, also, you know - Rhys did other things that made me super mad. Mor never threatened Nesta's life, for example.

Conversely, any anger I've have toward Eris (and, I'll admit, there's still a bit), entirely surrounds what he did/didn't do 500 years ago. I'll go into more detail on why I may offer my forgiveness in the next section, but in regards to the anger - I don't see these aligned. My anger toward Rhys and Mor revolve mostly around double standards they seem to have and a lack of understanding or caring for someone who is clearly struggling with trauma. Something that, personally, I think they should both be on the side of truly understanding, considering their own experiences. Eris, on the other hand, it's an anger for leaving Mor to die. I'm not saying that this is a "better" thing to do, it's just that the two angers don't align. I'm not holding Mor to a higher standard, because I do not see the two as the same. Thus, their paths toward forgiveness may look very different, because I will be looking for different things in each of them.

3. What is the person now doing? Have they earned forgiveness?

I'm not saying Eris has earned forgiveness. I'm not saying Mor hasn't. That is up for all of us to interpret.

That being said, what we've seen from Mor does not include any signs of regret for her actions. We do not see her actively trying to make things better between her and Nesta, to understand Nesta, or that she has any sorrow for what she said to her. At best, we see Mor polite to Nesta, and maybe willing to get to know her better. The absolute best interaction was at Solstice, when Mor asked if she might be able to join. As I mentioned, I am hopeful for these two - in part cause my head canon is that they could actually be amazing friends, but that's for another day - and I really loved seeing Mor willing and interested to join in, despite it being with Nesta (and kinda Nesta's thing), as well as seeing Nesta being willing and interested to have Mor join, even if it's just solely for the priestesses. But, that is one interaction and, again, doesn't actually show any repentance from Mor for her own actions against Nesta.

I know some people will say "you mean just that one 'mean' thing Mor said?" - yes. Though it wasn't just that one time, was it? Because there have been multiple times Mor has shown a true disdain for Nesta, while also showing a true indifference to the fact that Nesta was struggling. The other best example of this was when Cassian was hurt in the war, and Nesta was waiting outside his tent, clearly terrified. Mor, also upset, by many things, took it almost entirely out on Nesta. She was either blind to Nesta's feelings for Cassian (doubtful), or she simply didn't care, and instead snapped at her, all while Nesta was probably terrified and fearing the worst in her mind.

The two never talked about this either. And we don't know if Mor regrets those things she's done and said, or even just feels bad, and we also don't have a full understanding of her reasons, or even if there are valid reasons. Because she doesn't talk about it - or, at least, we haven't see her talk about it. I truly hope we will get some answers to all of this. But, right now, we don't even really get hints - we simply assume she must have a reason, because she's Mor and she's great and so she must have a reason we can understand and accept. Still, we don't know, and we don't see her even be held accountable for those actions - admittedly, an issue with most of the Inner Circle and the lack of them being held accountable for how they've treated certain people.

Eris, on the other hand, while what he did was truly horrific, has admitted that he really regrets his actions - or inactions. And he has stated that he had his reasons - reasons that cost him. So we know that he has, in fact, paid for what he's done, at least to some extent. And, more so than that, his current actions seem, to me, to prove this. His constant attempts to ally with the Night Court, to try and do the right thing. Yes, when we saw him at the High Lord's meeting, he was wrong to say what he did to Mor. But we also cannot hold that at full face value and be mad at him for that one thing without remaining mad at Rhys for all he's done while wearing his High Lord of the Night Court mask. Again, that would be a double standard. We can be annoyed by it, but if we forgive Rhys for playing a part, we must also forgive Eris. (This statement, of course, is based on my interpretation that Eris is good at heart, but has made a number of mistakes and is essentially forced to be awful due to his place in life.)

However, despite that one thing, everything else we see from Eris, seems repentant. It is, of course, my interpretation of Eris. But considering all the things he's done, the little threads we get that show us he's not the awful monster we were told he is. He has been working to earn forgiveness, and is doing the right things now - just still often wearing that Autumn Court mask. And, if we're going to forgive Rhys for all the monstrous things he's done, because he has shown himself to be better than that, then it's okay to at least consider forgiving Eris.

So, why is it wrong to be willing to forgive someone for something that he has shown he is seeking forgiveness for? But to maybe not be forgiving another for something that she has not sought forgiveness for? Can we forgive someone for something if they don't realize what they did was wrong? In my opinion, no. Yes, people say that the only person you ever really need forgiveness from is yourself. And I don't fully disagree - I think we do need to forgive ourselves. But, again, only once we understand what we did, how and why it was wrong, and when we want forgiveness. Then we forgive ourselves, and at the least can hope that our actions show that we understand this truth, and others may forgive us even if we don't ask blatantly. In the end, though, we do need to ask for forgiveness. It's just a matter of whether we are vocalizing that request, or showing it in our actions.

Summary

Again, I'm not saying that there aren't times where this is a true double standard. Where people just love Eris and hate Mor, and maybe even blame Mor for what went down with Eris (and, if they do, I will fight them on that because Mor is blameless in that situation - idgaf if she slept with Cassian, I will not blame her for wanting out of that marriage).

I am also not trying to convince anyone that they should love Eris, or that they should dislike Mor - especially seeing as I don't fully dislike Mor, I'm just waiting for the best Mor to come back.

I'm only saying that we really can't make assumptions and say that loving Eris and hating Mor automatically means misogyny. Some things hit closer to home than others - as I mentioned as a possible reason why Nesta is such a struggle for Mor. It could very well be solely about what it is they do and don't forgive each person for. And, personally, I think finding out if a person who is angry with Mor was also angry with Rhys during ACOSF is a much better gauge than comparing Mor and Eris.

I don't believe that Mor owes anyone any explanations. Clearly, my own feelings around Mor have really not revolved around what she may or may not be hiding about Eris. Of course I want to know, I'm a nosy reader. But, if she's hiding something for her friends about that, she has her reasons and I'll accept them so long as they don't end up being, like "well, I just wanted you all to hate Eris forever". But, typically, Mor's reasons have to do with her own trauma and fears, and I accept that. It may, at times, be self-centered - but sometimes don't we all need to be a bit self-centered?

However, I think that we need to truly compare the anger, compare the reasons, to understand why some might like one character and dislike another. It is not feminist to automatically support a woman if she is in the wrong. It is not misogynistic to forgive a man and not a woman for two entirely different situations and reasons. We have to remember that feminism is supporting gender equality in every way - workplace, personal lives, laws, etc. Feminism is not supporting female superiority, which is exactly what happens when you compare two people for things that are not comparable, and then state that you must be more forgiving of the female.

After Thoughts on Mor

I am truly hopeful that we will see Mor and Nesta's relationship grow. And I would like to see more of the Mor we met in ACOMAF, tbh. I have felt, as has been observed by others, that Mor's character and journey has been incredibly chaotic and inconsistent. She was the bomb.com in ACOMAF with how she was with Feyre. Then, in ACOWAR, she was a bit moody, she was mean and harsh toward Nesta (and still has explaining to do on some of this and the Cassian stuff), and she just wasn't really who we met in ACOMAF. I don't really remember much about ACOFAS. But, in ACOSF, again, Mor was different. Except, instead of being just moody and harsh toward Nesta when pushed, now she's completely unforgiving and dismissive of Nesta. And, honestly, that wasn't the Mor I was expecting. I would have expected Mor to be one of the first to maybe realize that Nesta was dealing with trauma. I guess that expectation shouldn't have been held considering ACOWAR, but it was different. I still thought Mor might understand, to an extent - might be at least willing to help Nesta heal, or want to see her healed. Instead, we got someone who said Nesta should just be thrown into the Hewn City - to Cassian's face. So, on top of not giving a damn about Nesta at all (the female that saved Cassian's life, full stop), she also didn't show much caring or understanding of Cassian, one of her best friends. Not until after she saw what a comment like that did to him. And yes, Mor may be just dealing with her own trauma, I understand that. It's why I still have a hard time saying I was truly angry with Mor, but more hurt by/upset with her in ACOSF. Because it may be something deeper that caused her to be this way. Or just her own preoccupation with what's going on in her life. But, in the end, it was still targeted at one person, the one person who probably could handle it the least.

That's my long winded way of saying that I have a lot of hope for Mor's character in the future, and that I don't actually hate her. I just hope that we get to understand her better, understand the reasons she's had for what she's done, but I also hope we see her held accountable (and the rest of the IC).

As always, this is just my own personal opinion, and I accept that others' opinions may be different. I promise to respect yours, all I ask is that you respect mine. I'm not opposed to dissenting arguments, just asking for no attacks. :)

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf #eris vanserra #morrigan

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rosedhall · 4 years

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do you have any thoughts abt jaya?

Okay, so initial preface is that I don't actually really care deeply about how anyone else chooses to portray this relationship, these are just my own thoughts and how I like to interpret or present the two of them, specifically romantically in this context. If you have a different way of doing so, that's cool, I'm just very into overthinking dynamics and it doesn't really to bother me what other people do with them- so take this as my own thoughts in portrayal; alright epic.

I want to start off with the inevitable: "fixing/saving" Jimmy as a dynamic and inadvertently woobifying him is one of those things that generally causes me a bit of distaste in some presentation of these two, but I do think it's key to note that it's a trope I'm not particularly keen to fall into personally so this may originate from a preference. Let's be frank in that Jimmy has issues, issues that extend beyond even his demonic possession. The man is not very stable; he's pushy, unnerving, overtly a bit of a leer, manic and socially illiterate (I am too because I'm autistic, but it becomes an issue when you're making women feel unsafe with it and Maya evidently), they're traits which make him a fucking brilliant character but in equal measure a demanding person. And I feel removing those aspects to fit in the ship does Huld's performance and Tim's writing a disservice, equally, utilising Maya as a tool to alter him for the better is unfair in similar respects. I think Jimmy is at his most fun when he is making people feel uncomfortable; do you see how quickly people get endeared to him within the first cutscene? It's grand characterisation.

Maya is her own character too, with her own ambitions, and reducing her down to a trope wherein she has to help a man capable of seeking therapy himself but refusing to do as much is kind of unfair to her, it goes into some places which causes issues and is kind of ooc - given that she explicitly chooses to leave given the option: because of course she would, poor woman. If you wanted to touch on the flaws of that sort of "saving" story then I completely respect it but uncritically only having Maya about to be an untrained support system feels inadequate to her character potential to me: obviously partners help each other, but your partner isn't your therapist and that could and should be discussed with this sort of relationship. If you're writing Jimmy as manipulative in regards to him leaning in on the "you can fix me" narrative, I think that goes hard and acts as a sound criticism if you have dramatic irony running alongside it y'know. I think Maya is great in that she CAN help with the possession, she's a medium, but even Huld has mentioned that Jimmy's problems run wayy deeper and they have to be touched on.

I think it's why I am kind of partial to: "Jimmy Hall's weird crush on poor Maya, who is trying to get a degree, dammit" as a dynamic, specifically.

Stripping Maya of autonomy kind of goes hand-in-hand with the previous issue, I have with some presentations or interpretations of Maya as this immediately smitten... almost personality void who serves to be an object to be fawned over or someone to fawn over Jimmy. She has her own problems, she's blunt and kind of apathetic - presumably because she's been seeing dead people and channelling their memories for fuck knows how long, which must take a mental toll. Her own problems have never seemed as touched upon by the fandom, which sucks, I think there's potential there - hell, maybe it could serve as a point to flip the "woman fixes broken man" trope on its head and portray how Jimmy could help her with the turmoil of seeing dead people constantly, could be a fun Jaya prospect for those who ar interested in promts. Maya and her character are just as important in this ship and I think it should be touched on more in mutual presentations of it.

I can seen Jaya or whatever as one-sided particularly, given that it's essentially canon, although it's unknown if that stems from whatever is possessing him or Jimmy himself. But in equal parts, if you can find a way to mellow Jimmy to a state where he wouldn't be detrimental to Maya whilst keeping him bizarre then I completely fuck with the concept.

How I would portray it in a mutual way is kind of an interesting question... I think it's important for Jimmy to have some semblance of stability because Maya's smart enough to keep clear of him when he's behaving tumultuously. Like I said above, I don't want Maya to have this " obligation " to save Jimmy because it's not her job and she's her own person. I think there's potential to be explored in how they can assist each other without encroaching on the obsession Jimmy displays in-game.

As for if I " ship " it, I don't know if that's the best term for me to use? I like the dynamic but it's hardly typical and I am not keen on the prospect of losing the disconcerting aspect of their relationship or lack thereof as it's what makes it so unique and fun to explore. I think I do, but not in the typical manner, I don't want to alter the characters so much to just produce a sappy ship which doesn't have a parallel in-canon (hey, that's what I use Roseharvey for lmao - simplifying of course, this ask isn't about that ship). I love the characters and therefore I love portrayals of the ship which amplify their quirks, flaws and of course some of their positive traits, and the potential issues that arise from having the both of them in a romantic relationship, I feel like glossing over the obvious pitfalls a relationship like that may have only does the characters a disservice, so if I were to present Jaya in a mutual or even one-sided manner I would always feel inclined to tackle them first. Of course do whatever you please and take my opinion as just that.

I don't particularly have a closing statement, so take this rambling as you will *peace sign*.

#asks #jaya #txt #jfc this is so long im so sorry lmao #long post #ill tag as much #jimmy #maya #it's 1am so excuse mistakes #please ask me more about these sorts of topics can you sense i have.. mang thoughts #many #makes me want to write a fic about mayas ghost torment surprisingly #jimmy can be there if you're into that

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kwrittink · 5 years

Text

Stitches

Pairing: F!Reader x PlasticSurgeon!Seokjin

Genre: Smut/Fluff

Warnings: Foul language, mentions of medical procedures, mentions of broken bones, mentions of injuries, mentions of life-threatening injuries, explicit scenes of intercourse, unprotected intercourse

a/n: please excuse my lack of knowledge about the procedures made and/or ethics of a hospital, this whole oneshot (and the ones forthcoming) is inspired by tv medical series and can be completely inaccurate for my lack of experience with the terms. i deeply apologize for any misconceptions and hope that either way you all enjoy the story!

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The man had a way with women, they had said. He was nice and charming, a real gentleman were the exact words used to describe him.

"S- Stop poking me! This is useless, I'm fine, even a baby can see that!" The man on top of the hospital bed was everything but meeting the expectations. As he struggled, groaning and grunting like a little child, you pondered if you should ask for Peds, but since you were the only free resident for the next couple of hours before Dr. Dimples - well, one had to make a way to differentiate between the three Dr. Kim present on the hospital - got into surgery and you were paged to assist, you were on call for that one. It was your duty, even if your head was killing you.

"Mr. Kim, please stop moving around so much, I've got to clean your wounds and-" a young nurse was in distress, trying to clean the cuts and bruises of what it looked like to be the most famous man in the whole hospital, the star of plastic surgeries, Dr. Kim Seokjin - or how they called him, Dr. Handsome.

"If you're going to doing a lazy job then let go! I've got patients waiting for me, damn it!" Another two other nurses had to literally hold him down to avoid the man from getting up and leaving the bed practically naked, and you would have laughed was it any other day, but it was being a shitty morning for both of you, apparently.

"Alright... Good morning, I am Dr. Y/L/N and I'll be looking into your case, would you mind if I take a look at y-"

"Tell them to stop trying to help - trying being keyword - and let me go do my job! I got a thousand surgeries scheduled for today and I can't be wasting my time sitting in a bed while in perfect health!" You winced at his loud tone, not understanding why he was in such a rush to leave without letting you do at least the basics. It was a teaching hospital, wouldn't hurt him to just lay down and let you listen to his heart and call it a day-

"Hm Dr. Kim I'm afraid I won't be able to let you do that," With a friend you were handed the tablet that contained his charts and info, the first thing in the screen was an x-ray, fifth and sixth rib from the right side broken and the third from the left side craked, nothing very serious but it could hurt like a bitch. It should hurt like a bitch and still, that man was just there struggling to get up and go to work, screaming at everyone.

...

Screaming because it hurt like a major bitch but he didn't want to be seen in pain like that. The memories of your father getting angry at the wind when he got hurt while working popped in your mind immediately, and you signed heavily, trying to maintain your composure while explaining the situation and what could succeed to the matter if left untreated to the man who demanded an explanation to not being able to leave the hospital he partially owned.

"And I am telling you as an attending that I am completely fine to work today, so I'm ordering you to please release me!" The pleading in the middle of an order could be really funny, but your state was only getting worse and you were about to cry for the sole pain thumping inside your skull, the loud shouting inside the tiny room making you snap.

"Oh, my g- With all due respect Dr. Kim but will you just shut the fuck up? It's broken ribs, not an amputated hand!" You yelled back before you could stop yourself, walking towards Dr. Kim to show him the notes from the chief of surgery, that had sent further instructions. "All your procedures were postponed without an issue, so I'm sure every patient needing the touch of god can wait till you can stand on your feet." You finished with a heave, under the heavy gaze of the head nurse, that could be very grateful you were able to distract the nagging man enough for them to take better care of him while he was stunned, but also much baffled by your use of words and would probably inform your designed resident that you had indecorous behavior towards not only a patient and an attending doctor, but also a member of the Board.

Your head and your career, just because of a damn migraine. Just like that.

You felt light-headed.

"Well, finally someone to snap some sense in this thick head of yours," The humored voice of the Trauma attending made your whole body tense, not hoping someone from the higher-ups would know about this misbehavior so soon. And most of all, Dr. Min...

"Yoongi, I should have figured. This is one of yours right?" The man that was once staring holes into your skull spoke, tone even and a grin on his bruised lip.

"No actually miss - it's Y/L/N, right? - is under Namjoon's wing, but after this, I might even consider stealing her for myself... We're in dire need of someone with this kind of attitude," He scoffed, hands in his pockets as he turned to you. Straightening up you tried to mumble something, anything or an apology, but was stopped by a single shake of Dr. Min's head. "Don't worry, you're not in that much trouble for this. Your attending will have to be noticed though so meanwhile, I think you should go take something for that migraine of yours."

Your eyes widened at his words, wondering how he had figured out, mouth mumbling before you could stop yourself. "How could you-"

"Either I'm psychic or just that good. Take your pick." Yoongi cut you, a nonchalant shrug in dismissal as he turned around to talk to the injured doctor. Mouth hanging open, you only started moving once the nurse gave you a pointed look, quietly telling you to follow her and get your medicine already. Breathing in deeply, you skedaddled behind her quickly, not wanting to get into any more trouble than you already had. Your attending would probably talk your ear off for this already.

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You felt so lucky to have Dr. Kim Namjoon as your attending for that week. Sighing as you got out of the meeting room where he had asked for a word - in a very serious tone, that had every hair in your body standing on point -, ducking your head to not meet anyone's eyes in your way, knowing your face wasn't the one of someone that spent two hours being lectured by the tall and apparently intimidating Neurosurgeon, rather someone that was staring at his dimples while he laughed at the story as you told the whole ordeal.

Of course, you had been punished for your attitudes, being put at service to take care of Dr. Seokjin till he was back on his feet, doing everything so he was comfortable which also meant personal favors and stuff. I'm basically his private nurse. When Namjoon had put it like that when discussing your punishment it didn't even cross your mind, but now all you could think about was that you'd be close and personal with one of the owners of that hospital.

It doesn't matter Y/N, you're a doctor, you told yourself while biting your lower lip as you made your way to the Plastic's surgeon room, being effectively assigned by Namjoon. Besides, he probably doesn't even like you that much right now, you did yell at his face, you sighed, not knowing if that was meant to be a comfort or not.

And for the second time that day, you'd been wrong.

Dr. Kim Seokjin was nothing but the man that was placed in a bed shouting at everybody and pain-crazed, no. He was very amiable, wouldn't accept your apology before you accepted his and asked very little of you - at least for that first afternoon - before sending you off to take care of yourself, addressing the migraine that had subsided greatly with the medicine the nurse had given you early morning. You even considered buying a lottery ticket that day.

The days that followed were also very pain-free, the interns that were already specializing on Dr. Jin's - as they called him - area coming frequently to ask for his opinion on some cases, sneak snacks or just blatantly flirt with him made your job quite easy, even getting to share the food that arrived. He was an ace at his craft, that was so, so much more than boob jobs and fillers, you quickly realized. Dr. Kim Seokjin was a researcher, always striving to perfect his techniques and looking for ways to heal people in an almost seamless way.

"Since you're technically under my orders, why don't you go check this patient for me? I really need someone to describe the state of that skin graft and-"

"Technically I'm still under Dr. Namjoon's orders, but I can ask a friend to check for them and they'll give you the info in no time," you explained, whipping out your phone and quickly typing at said friend about the case of the patient that had made a skin transplant for some old burn scars, made with umbilical stem cells - practically routine procedure, his work high ranked everywhere. Seokjin snickered in amusement, and you looked up at him questioningly. "What?"

"I know that you don't want to upset the dimpled puppy - believe me I don't like to either - but this way you're going to fall back in the program," he explained and you shook your head, sitting on the side of his bed, turning your phone to him, where he could clearly see another patient's room, and looking up at you he noticed the wireless earphone in your ear. Still, Seokjin looked confused, making you chuckle.

"Another friend of mine - he owns me some favors - video calls me every time there's an interesting case, so I get to learn stuff even if I'm not on rounds. My mike's off but I can hear and see whatever is happening in the room." You smiled smugly as you explained, proud of your own brain. Okay, it hadn't been exactly your idea, but the thing is that you were still observing some cases, even if you couldn't participate and/or observe surgeries.

"That's very... Resourceful, I must admit. Still, I think I should talk with Dr. Joon about you, it's not fair to sabotage your learning process like that-"

You touched his arm, halting his little rant. "No, please don't do that. I've also learned a lot with you here while helping to nurse you." You explained, unable to contain a smile while you realized the way Seokjin had referred to his colleague. The man's mouth parted, seeming to be a little surprised at your admission.

"You've been reviewing cases with me this whole time, huh?" His eyes glanced at the pile of papers on his lap, a small grin curling a corner of his lips. "Well, that's really clever of you, Dr. Y/L/N. Reminds me of myself, in the old days."

Your chest swelled at his tone, just like when your father used to call you that before he passed. You tried to not give much thought to that, the grief still prompting tears very often. "You say it like it was such a long time ago Dr. Kim," you quipped back with a chuckle, drawing another snicker from his lips.

"It sure feels sometimes." He commented absentmindedly, eyes back into the papers, something catching his attention. "Well suit yourself then, since you're here to study and not just stare at my handsome face. Not that I'd complain if that's the case." A sigh passed his lips and you rolled your eyes at the remark, as you stretched over him to reach for his glasses, his eyes squinting a little and causing creases, a really bad habit for someone that preached about collagen as a holy grail.

"When I need a break I will, don't worry." You said while handing him the tool you knew to have lost him when you had to place the thin and old-fashioned frame of his glasses on top of his nose, a small hum in appreciation, eyes relaxing to their normal size. You were close to his face and took a second to observe his features more closely since he did say you were allowed to and weren't even paying much attention, the material in front of him more interesting than anything else.

"Will what?" He muttered a second later as if just realizing you've said something. As your eyes met, you smiled.

"Look at your handsome face, doctor." You quipped, head tilting to the side with an innocent air, and you saw him blink hard once, just as when he's nervous - or hungry. Then - and there was a lot of reactions you were expecting from him, but not that one - a snort passed his lips, the most unflattering snort echoed through the room, and as you leaned back to giggle, noticed the redness of his neck up, not quite reaching his face and cheeks but rather blushing till the very tip of his ears.

And that's when you realized that Dr. Kim Seokjin was handsome - and knew that - but couldn't in any way get compliments without getting embarrassed.

You were sure to use that knowledge for your own amusement.

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In the span of two weeks though, you've caught yourself staring and studying his face too many times already. Mostly when you were sure he was looking, just to embarrass him, but losing track of your tease and just admiring the natural features of his face, honest to god confused about how someone could have such complexion without never facing a scalpel before. Well, maybe you were exaggerating, but the man was surely handsome and lived for the nickname. Not only his face though, you've been quite interested in his shoulder-waist ratio, the wide expanse of his back - skin always so soft to the touch when you asked to listen to his lungs and heart - enough to fit both Rose and Jack, you'd bet. It was a miracle Seokjin hadn't tipped to either side yet, his waist being so slim in comparison. You envied that feature.

Didn't mean he was tiny under the belt though - well, you weren't sure about that specific thing -, as you noticed one day that his thighs were nothing to joke about. Okay, he wasn't like the Ortho God Dr. Jimin - strong dancer thighs - or Dr. Jeon that could seriously kill someone with his or Dr. Namjoon's biker ones or Dr. Taehyung's I've-worked-on-a-farm thighs but they surely were lean and strong, and if you could choose, you'd pick Dr. Jin's in a heartbeat. And why was that?

Because you're absolutely whipped for him, Y/N. Your mind snapped you from your daydream, the phone in your lap almost falling as you shook your head to get rid of the thoughts. That couldn't be the case, right? You just had a professional admiration for the man, he was an attending and your teacher and an amazing surgeon for crying out loud. You couldn't have fee-

"Y/N, can you come here a minute? I need your opinion on something," Seokjin's voice made you snap your head up at him, eyes huge as if you were caught doing something wrong. Which actually was accurate, if falling for one's teacher fit the concept.

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Something felt wrong that morning. But in your little infatuation, you weren't really paying attention.

"Hey, good to see you Dr. Y/L/N- Or should I say nurse Y/L/N?" Seokjin asked as you entered the room early in the morning with his food and a bag of extra snacks sent by his interns. Apparently, Dr. Jung started to confiscate the goodies for Dr. Jin and lectured the interns about the hospital's policies and how wrong was it to benefit one single patient - what Seokjin currently was until he got the clearance. After that, you were practically forced to take the snacks outside the hospital and make huge detours to get to Seokjin's room and avoid getting caught by the sometimes scary Cardiosurgeon. It was exhausting.

"Yes, very funny Dr. Jin, I'm even getting wrinkles," you quipped back at him, making Seokjin chuckle at your wit as you put the bags hidden beside his bed, not missing the quirk of his eyebrow as you stole a candy bar from the stash. "What, you're not even going to eat all of those," you pointed out, ripping the packaging and giving the treat a bite. The man only rolled his eyes at you, making some space by his legs for you to sit, getting back to his work and you focusing on the phone, getting ready for rounds. It had become like that, a sort of friendship that seemed sometimes feeble, something that would probably vanish once he was discharged - and that was nearing, depending on the results that Dr. Yoongi would bring a little later. You hoped to stop pinning after him when both got back to the respective routines and you didn't get to see so much of him.

Mind wandering off, you didn't notice as Seokjin leaned towards you, cold fingers softly touching your cheek. "Hey, that way you're really getting wrinkles," he muttered, and you immediately snapped out of your thoughts to look up at him, gaze perhaps focusing a second too long on his lips, the soft smile Dr. Jin was wearing making your face feel warm, and you had to clear your throat audibly to manage speaking.

"What?"

Lips parting, his little scoff made your eyes flick back to the plump cushions of his mouth, wondering if it was just your imagination that he was somehow closer. "That frown right there," he started explaining, the tip of his fingers only hovering the area between your brows. "What's worrying you, Y/N?"

"Nothing," you squeaked, unable to manage anything coherent, so thunderstruck from his actions. Your head fell down, unable to look him in the eye longer, but Seokjin wasn't having it, same hand going for your chin, digits pressing up with delicacy while coaxing you to lock eyes with him again.

"You can talk to me, you know... We're- ugh," He tried to say, eyes so worried closing tightly as he groaned in pain, torso dropping back to the bed as he reached for his side, and you tried to understand what was going on.

"Dr. Seokjin? What's going on?" you asked, hopping off and circling the bed quickly, hands going to the place he was pressing. "Does it hurt here? Do you know what's happening to you?" Panic started to settle in as you tried to think what could be causing him so much pain, till his eyes opened wide, palm enclosing your wrist with bruising strength.

"Can't bre- Breathe," Seokjin heaved, then tried to gasp for air with no avail. Frowning, you quickly grabbed your stethoscope and pressed it to the side he was still trying to hold, hearing - for your utter desperation - little breathing sounds. That, paired with the healing rib could only mean one thing: Dr. Seokjin's lung was punctured.

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"But how could that happen, there wasn't anything on his images, did we miss something?" You asked the two doctors standing outside his room after the whole situation was handled and fortunately, Dr. Kim was safe and sleeping soundly, under heavy sedation after the procedure to close up his collapsed lung.

"No, that might have happened after the exam, he wouldn't stop moving around and yelling at people, so most likely..." Dr. Yoongi muttered, almost to himself, as Dr. Park hummed beside him.

"Could have been a weird twist though, a move that misplaced the rib again, it was broken in two places anyways," the Ortho attending chanced, the emergency x-ray of Dr. Jin's lungs in his hand. There one could clearly see the hurt lung, small compared to the healthy one. Those things were pretty rare to happen and it wasn't easy to determinate the moment of puncture when it came to broken ribs - healing ones to top -, but you were pretty sure it had been that moment when he had tried to lean even closer to your face, as if - and you tried to shake off the thought so many times already - he was about to kiss you. Though he was probably about to say that I could trust him to talk since we're friends...

"But he's going to be alright now yeah?" You asked, your worried tone making both doctors stop their mumbling to look at you, Dr. Park's lips quirking up in a smile.

"Oh don't worry about that, now that we got him quiet and fixed him up, Dr. Kim will get better in a jiffy," he reassured you, hand going to pat at your shoulder softly. You tried to muster a smile, nodding lightly. You didn't want to think about how desperate you were at that time, because it only made you more aware of how much you cared for him. Being concerned for a patient was normal, but the fear you felt as Seokjin was tubed and wheeled for the ER was from someone that was hoping their loved one was okay.

"Though that means you're still on nurse duty, if I'm not mistaken," Dr. Yoongi blurted, and you looked up at him, finding him slightly squinting at you, eyes knowing. You glanced away, as Jimin chastised his colleague for being mean to an intern. You didn't really mind to tend for him for a little longer, in fact, even your chest felt relieved to know you'd spend more time with him. And if you weren't mistaken, the burning knowing gaze in the back of your head was still from Dr. Min, which was really psychic, after all.

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When Dr. Jin woke up, you were there to press a hand on his chest protectively to keep him from sitting up. And upon seeing your face he relaxed, his own hand going to cover yours, not to take it off but to squeeze it softly.

"Hey you there, what did I say about frowning?" he muttered, still a little sleepy from the medicines. You rolled your eyes and chuckled, sliding the hand off his chest to grab the end of your stethoscope and press it to the side of his torso.

"You also don't listen to given precautions either, Jin." muttering while taking notes about his stats, you missed how he smiled at the way you referred to him. "You were told to not bend or twist your torso till the ribs were secure yet you..." A sigh passed your lips before you looked up. "Please this time try to stay still Dr. Seokjin,"

"But I like when you scold me. Besides-" there was a knock at the door and then Dr. Min entered, followed by a couple interns to study and explain his case. You immediately leaned away from Jin, trying to be discreet as you got up and handed him his charts with all the new info and stats. Still, his eyes locked to yours for a single second and you could see the tiniest of smiles on his face as your cheeks started to feel warm, the feeling of getting caught making your heart pound.

"What were the symptoms the patient experienced after you diagnosed the punctured lung Dr. Y/L/N?" You almost gasped surprised at his inquiry, eyes wide and suddenly thrown off. "Just because you've been nursing Dr. Seokjin doesn't mean you're not an intern still, so you should be ready. Now, what were his symptoms?"

"Sharp pain at the right side of the torso, quickly followed by shortness of breath and increased heart rate. The patient also started to show blue discoloration of his lips and finally loss of consciousness." You quickly gathered yourself together to answer him, earning a satisfied hum at the answer.

"And can someone tell me the next step for that?"

"Immediate decompression of the lung with a large-bore needle into the second intercostal space in the midclavicular line, followed by a tube thoracostomy." You blurted out before someone could even breathe, head going a mile a minute as the events of that day went through your mind. Dr. Min did take long to get to the room, and after Jin passed out you had to call a nurse for help and insert the tube yourself without ever doing that. How you had the cold blood to do so it was beyond you.

"Very good, Dr. Y/L/N. It seems like you've been doing your homework." He sighed, and you heard Seokjin groan a little annoyed behind you. Dr. Min grinned while quickly glancing at him, closing the chart. "Any questions Dr. Seokjin?"

"Yeah, who was the one to close me up? I need to have words with that butcher," he quipped, making the interns still behind Dr. Yoongi chuckled lightly.

"Well then who can tell me the one responsible for the patient's lung repair?"

"Dr. Jeon was responsible for closing up Dr. Seokjin's at first clean incision, but upon exam, it was necessary to widen the gap and close another small breach in the lung, then Dr. Jim- Dr. Park made the rib repair with plates, to ensure proper healing." You barely registered the little slip from that intern after hearing the complication of the surgery. You thanked whatever force in the universe that Dr. Jeon was the best General surgeon one could ask for, as well as Dr. Park.

"There's your answer, Dr. Seokjin. Now, Dr. Y/L/N will go over the precautions again, but soon you should be back in your feet. If you'll excuse me," Dr. Min finished and left, before Jin could say anything else, while the others scrambled to follow the Trauma surgeon while blurting small good wishes and farewells for the injured surgeon. Dr. Jin sighed.

"I'll have to teach him how to suture all over again? I can't believe he's leaving that huge scar on my side- ow," he whined, but this time you chuckled because it was just because he tried to twitch, but the painkillers were wearing off and the surgery was still tender.

"Be still or you'll open your stitches, Dr. Seokjin," you warned, once more pressing a palm to his shoulder. "Now, you were saying?" trying to distract him, from moving you got back into the previous subject you were discussing, causing his expression to soften instantly - whether from the hand still over his clothed shoulder or sudden confusion, you didn't know. It just reached the wanted result.

"Huh? Was I saying something?" Seokjin inquired, head cutely tilting a little, even if it was a little weird to say that of a grown man.

"When are you not?" You quipped and the both of you chuckled, a pained hum a chuckle from both parties. "Before Dr. Min arrived you were about to say something about why you can't follow medical instructions I gather," you got up, reaching to lift his bed a little and fluff his pillow. "And as your personal nurse, I have to know about your complaints so I can make my patent more comfortable."

"Well if you have to know, my major issue with staying still is because..." And you had to frown over the sight of his ears turning bright red, blush spreading down to his neck and what you could see from his chest. That made you incredibly intrigued.

"Because?" You pressed, curiosity eating at you with his hesitancy. Seokjin snickered, head turning to look back at you with a serious expression.

"If I can't move then I can't try to kiss you," and against all warnings he leaned up, pressing his lips to yours in the most chaste of kisses.

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It was the night that preceded the day of Dr. Kim Seokjin's discharge, and you felt both parts sad and relieved.

"I can't believe I'm finally leaving this bed tomorrow," he groaned, eyes closing as he threw his head back. Seokjin was allowed to sit up again by Dr. Park and had taken up his charts and researches again with the blessing of the now responsible surgeon for his case Dr. Jung since Dr. Jeon almost got his ear talked off when he tried to check on Seokjin and the state of his stitches.

"Well sorry if it was such a bad experience to you Dr. Kim," you quipped jokingly, eyes glancing up from your books as you read about a case he had let you borrow after your little trick with an intern friend had been discovered and thoroughly shut off.

"Ah you know I didn't mean it that way dear," he sighed and you gave him a tight smile back, trying to not let the term of endearment get to you. "Thought you should know you've been an amazing caretaker. Have you thought of pursuing the medical career?" he joked, and you had to chuckle because he could sometimes make awful jokes, but overall Dr. Kim Seokjin was pretty funny - god forbid him knowing you thought like that.

Theoretically, you were acting as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn't stolen a kiss and had to be put under a dose of painkillers after, but the little things - the nicknames, the longing stares, and apparently innocent innuendos - made it hard to forget that didn't happen.

"I know, I was just joking. But I have to say that I'm glad I'm off nurse duty. No matter how much free food I got while serving my time." Eyes getting back to the papers, you were to resume your notes, really intrigued with the carcinoma case he was working on. You never thought he could take care of those things, imagining that every type of cancer went straight to Oncology.

Seokjin gasped, faking offense, and that snapped you out of your concentration. "Serving your time! Look at that, you've gotten witty huh?" He quipped, and you realized that he still wanted to talk to you, probably with the same thought that both should make the most of that last night... Together, in a sense.

"It's the company," you shot back, chuckling lightly as you got up, legs feeling a little numb after sitting for so long. "Now, I am stuck at how to make this procedure, could you give me a clue?" You asked, pointing out the papers in your lap.

"You treat me so badly and still need my help tsk," he shook his head, patting the spade beside him on the bed. "C'mere so I can read what you've written so far."

You watched as he read your essay for a long while, lost once more in his smooth features. He mumbled while reading, in his concentrated state, and you couldn't help but let your gaze wander to his lips, watching as the tip of his tongue wet the lower as he thought. The feeling of those on yours made you shudder lightly, skin tingling to touch and be touched. How professional of you.

A smile tugged at the corner of your lips after a while, as you realized his ears were getting red again from your staring. But what you had failed to notice was how he had you exactly where he wanted you.

"You know what Dr. Y/L/N," he sighed, turning to look at your face, being close enough you could feel his breathing fanning on your face. "I think we should leave this for another day."

You swallowed dryly, suddenly really nervous of his proximity, eyes darting from his eyes to his mouth, then quickly back up. "W-why, Dr. Jin?"

And he parted his lips, hissing softly as his gaze was trained on your mouth. "Because it's my last night here alone with you and I can't stop thinking of kissing you."

"Then why don't you?" You tainted, after gathering some courage to speak, even if it was just a mere whisper. But it was encouragement enough for Seokjin, that this time was able to move more freely and securely with the titanium plaques now holding his previously broken ribs.

The touch of his lips on yours was intoxicating. Soft, but enough to leave your lips tingling with yearning, make you forget your surroundings. They were cold but you still couldn't help to feel pulled further towards them, melting on his touch as if under drug effect. You parted your lips, a silent invitation to deepen the exchange, but he only captured your lower one, before pulling away slightly, a whisper of your name brings you back to reality.

"They're going to see us," Seokjin pointed out and only then you truly realized the place where you were, leaning away with wide eyes and a warm face, trying to come up with an apology to your inappropriate behavior, but getting a squeeze in your forearm and a soft smile to stop your words. "Can you do me a favor, Dr. Y/L/N?"

You could only hesitantly nod at his question, eyes meeting mischievous ones - an unrecognizable glint in Seokjin's eyes that were making your heart race - while waiting for what he was to say next. "Close the door and the blinds, I don't want to be bothered anymore."

The instruction caught you a little off-guard but again you could only nod, getting up from the bed and walking towards the door, knees a little weak from what happened seconds ago. Your heart was fluttering, fingers shaking while you pulled the cord that closed the blinds, eyes darting around to see if anyone was around, but due the hour the floor was practically empty, wasn't for the napping nurse on the reception table, back towards the window you were standing behind.

"D-do you need anything more, Dr. Seokjin?" you cleared your throat, turning towards him right after locking the door as silently as you could. For some reason, as you locked eyes again, his stare was so much more intense it made your pulse stutter. He bit his lower lip, eyes traveling down your figure and making you so aware of his desire, breathing as if the air had suddenly become thick.

"Can you please turn the TV on? I think there's a football game playing... I'd like to watch that." Eyes glimmering with naught, Seokjin pointed out to the device placed at the top of the opposite wall. You refrained from frowning at his instruction, asking yourself why would he ask for such a thing, when you knew he liked to sleep without any exterior noise - which was funny, him being someone so loud.

Unless Jin didn't intend to sleep at that moment... The thought made you breathe in sharply, surprised at your own delay to figure it out. Swallowing dryly you pressed the button of the remote to turn the TV on, your whole body buzzing. He had barely kissed you and you were already in such a state... Even your underwear felt a little damp already.

"Now, I hate to be this demanding to you nurse Y/N, but..." This time his tone was so much deeper, almost whispered and made you twirl on your feet quickly, a tad startled by him. The television was on like he asked, volume almost enough to drown your squeaked 'yes?' but not enough to bother anyone. Jin chuckled at your reaction. "I swear it's the last thing I ask, dear... Could you come here and fluff my pillow?"

With a small nod, you walked towards him again, having Seokjin straightened up to help you with the task. But ever the clever man, he didn't even wait for you to lean properly over him to capture your lips once again, strong hands tangling with your hair as you tried to leverage yourself, the startle making your knees weak. "Mhm- C'mere," taking a hold of your waist, he tugged your body to the side towards him making you yelp and you would have tumbled over his torso, hadn't you straddled Seokjin instead.

Now seated properly, your hands went immediately to his hair, sinking in the silky black tresses with delicacy and causing a shudder to ripple through his body as your nails scraped his scalp. Groaning, his own palms slid down confidently, reaching your butt and taking purchase of it with a firm squeeze. You gasped and Seokjin used the momentum to slip his tongue in, deepening the kiss smoothly.

Even if we're in a hospital it's tempting to take this further, you thought, leaning into his touch with a sigh.

Then the realization hit you. You were actually in a hospital room, part of your work environment, basically your whole life. Where you actually trying to risk it once again?

"Dr. Kim-" Quickly leaning back from him with hitched breath, you almost got distracted by his already disheveled state with flushed cheeks, lips swollen and pink, so inviting you almost forgot what you had to say. "Dr. Kim, I don't think we should get this carried away, someone could hear us a-and-" You tried to reason while clearing your senses, you sat back on his thighs properly, noticing exactly how carried away Seokjin was intending to get. His eyes widened at your words as if he also realized where you were exactly, hands sliding back down to the bed. You observed his face carefully, hoping he wouldn't get angry at you.

Clearing his throat, Dr. Jin looked away quickly. "You're right," he started in a low tone, pressing his eyes shut for a moment. "It's risky for both of us, even more for you... I'm so sorry I think I was out of my mind for a little bit." Biting down on his lower lip guiltily Seokjin breathed out heavily as he pinched the bridge of his nose. You took this moment to hop off his legs, not without giving a quick peek to the bulge hiding underneath the covers. Frustration washed over you immediately for doing that to yourself - for doing that for the both of you. But maybe when he gets better...

"I'm really sorry about this," you muttered, twirling on your feet and walking towards the door with wobbly knees and wondering how the hell would you be able to face him in the next - what time was it, 2 am already - hours. How would you be able to pretend that nothing happened from then on? It was impossible to keep that thing going - at least it was very much frowned upon - but you knew yourself too well to know you wouldn't be able to maintain a professional demeanor towards him. You were in too deep.

You chanced a peek over your shoulder, hand in the doorknob about to get out. Seokjin had his eyes closed, breathing still a little labored and probably trying to get his boner to go down on his own. Why were you chickening out at that moment? You wanted the man so much it was barely bearable, he wanted you too - that was very clear - so why were you, the one that had yelled to that man and shut him up a month earlier afraid then?

"Fuck me," you muttered to yourself, flicking the lights off and turning back around, almost ripping your coat off your body and throwing it to the chair nearby. The hasty movements picked Seokjin's attention and made him look back at you, confused about what you were doing for a second before a smile spread over his lips as you climbed the bed again, taking position on his lap again. Feeling bold, you also pulled off the uniform shirt, bra the only thing covering your chest at that point.

"You're going to kill me," he breathed out, fingers creeping up your waist as his eyes took in the sight in front of him. You shuddered, a humored hum leaving your lips as you leaned back to press your lips to his.

"Not the point here, doc. Quite the opposite actually." You couldn't help the quip, gasping as Seokjin caressed up your waist. He rolled his eyes at you, free hand grasping the back of your neck and getting back at kissing you.

Soon the exchange got heated up again, tongue invading your mouth and exploring digits mapping their way through the expanse of uncovered skin, only hesitating with a silent request for permission as they hovered the clasp of your bra. Already past patience at that point, you just shoved his polite hands away before opening it yourself, hurriedly throwing the garment to the floor, then meeting his awed expression. "So pretty," Seokjin marveled, hands cupping your breasts with care. "I'm good, but could never make them look as beautiful as yours."

The sudden admission made you scoff, and you were about to make a witty comment but was interrupted by his fingers tweaking at your nipples and turning any attempt of speaking into a soft gasp. He hummed. "So sensitive and soft... I want to taste you."

"Dr.- Jin!" your breath hitched as his mouth replaced one of his hands, full lips clasping over the hardened nub, the tip of the tongue teasing the sensitive skin. You held his head in place amazed at how his touch made you feel desire so intensely, hips grinding down on his, hoping that the hard-on against your clothed core meant the same. Immediately detaching his lips from your breast he breathed out hard, the friction being a sign that you affected him a whole deal. Meeting his gaze this time felt like you were electrocuted, his dark stare making you swallow dryly as you saw his intentions plastered to his face, eyes burning at yours.

"Last time you can back out, Dr. Y/L/N," he whispered, straightening up on the bed, leaning till his face was back at millimeters of yours. "From here I'll take responsibility, but I need to know if you're in with me." You took a second to breathe before nodding, the feeling of his fingertips playing with the band of your scrubs almost distracting. It was nice to know that he'd respond for this of anything happened but it wasn't like you cared anymore. Yes, it was that bad.

At your confirmation Jin captured your lips again, leaning up as he pushed the pants of your scrubs off, chilly air of the room hitting the skin of your butt and making you shudder as his palms caressed their way down. Leveraging yourself on his shoulders with one hand you helped him to get rid of the rest of your garments slowly and as silently as you could while he kissed your neck, the other hand undoing the ties of his gown and exposing the scorching, almost flushed skin of his chest. Like every peek you've had so far, you noticed he wasn't buff, but didn't lack strength and firmness. His body, as expected, was as great as his face.

Leaving your ogling for later, you positioned yourself as flush as you could on his lap, grinding deliciously over his now uncovered big hard cock and drawing a hiss from Seokjin, a little bite on your shoulder in retaliation, hands still holding your ass appreciatively.

"I would flip us over and fuck you senseless right about now but I guess it would go against medical orders, huh?" His tone was husky and dripping lust as he spoke against your ear not a twinge of humor to his voice, and that made you breathe out at the tease, hips rolling over Jin's once more just as if you were quipping back at him.

"Oh god, Jin," this time though he responded with a buck of his own, sliding over your pussy with ease due to how wet you've become. That was when you realized that maybe you would have to maul your lip to avoid moaning his name out loud if that simple gesture almost made you lose your composure. But as he said, it would be bad for his stitches if he was to top, so you would have to do the job this time.

"Fuck, you're so wet for me, "And you would have to do it fast because the more Seokjin spoke, the more you were turning desperate to have him inside.

With a firm, but delicate grip you lined him to your entrance, biting on your lip as you lowered yourself on him and leaning your head on his shoulder with the smallest of whimpers as the pleasure of the stretch took over your body like electricity. SeokJin tensed underneath your body, muttering small curses as he mouthed at your neck, arms now snaking around your body and holding you as close as humanly possible. You reached his base breathless, feeling the tip of his dick kissing your cervix.

You chanced to move, rocking your hips slowly at first, clenching as Jin met your grind and you started a soft and quiet pace. But it was soon escalating, as you felt him getting snuggled in a certain spot inside of you that had you seeing stars, head thrown back as your hips jolted and slammed back down, bed creaking drowned by the TV, or at least you hoped. "Seokj-Jin right there," you tried whispering, looking down at him and meeting his expression - a mix of awe and lust - as the little light coming from the window provided by the moon indirectly illuminated his face. You saw him nod, licking his lips before gripping back at your sides before leaning back down and pulling you with him till you had to use your hands to avoid falling on him.

Like that you could now bounce on his lap slowly, controlling the pace so you would enjoy the ride a little longer, as much as you were clenching around him with the need for proper drilling. Seokjin seemed to enjoy the little torture, face contorting in pleasure and eyes fluttering shut.

"Jin," you whispered, making him open his eyes with a heave before you leaned down a little to peck his lips. "You feel so good inside of me fuc-" You meant to tease him, having it backfiring spectacularly as he grunted, pumping up into you deeply and shushing you with a kiss.

"Just because I'm not cleared - shit how you're so tight? - doesn't mean you can t-tease me like that, Dr. Y/N." He snickered, keeping with the pace of his hips as you met every snap, face buried on the crook of his neck and not regretting your actions at all.

After a wince or two from his side, you decided to take over, straightening your torso back up again and resuming rocking your hips at a much stronger and faster pace, ready to take you both to the ends you two most desperately desired.

Breathing got ragged rather quickly, and it was so hard to contain the curses and little grunts and moans coming from both of you. Jin's hands went from your hips to your chest again, entranced with how your breasts moved and engrossed on tweaking your nipples, your body breaking a sweat in an attempt to hold off the moan from the added stimulation.

"I'm going to cum soon Jin, I'm- It feels so good-" Your whispers were even more choked up and desperate, and with your blurred vision you could barely see him nodding and gripping one of your sides even tighter.

"Good dear, I'm right behind you, wanna see you cum around my cock so bad," he urged you, licking his thumb and going for your clit with his free hand, rubbing tight circles that almost made you scream, nails digging on his chest.

"C-cum... Inside me, Dr. J-jin, please cum inside!" At your muttered plea his pace practically faltered to a stop, cock throbbing hard inside of you as he looked up at your face.

"Are you sure about that Y/N? Do you want me to fill you up, love?" Tone so soft, barely understandable but filled with desire. You could only nod, in the brink of tipping off the edge and almost unable to keep quiet. Breathing out a curse he nodded back, eyes fixated on yours. "Then cum for me and I will too, hm?" And at that Seokjin resumed playing with your clit, effectively bringing you to climax, eyes rolling up and both of your hands pressed to your mouth, avoiding to voice the incredible orgasm you were experiencing. Stimulated by your walls squeezing tight around him, Jin also came hard, with a string of curses on his lips, trying to keep his eyes open and relish on your fucked out expression while you rode out the climax.

The light of early morning was starting to breach the windows as you laid down beside Seokjin, using the last of your energy to get dressed and put his gown back, deciding to clean up a little later, once you were cleared to go home. None of you dared to sleep though, staring at each other in silence till you needed to get up.

"Ah, this won't do," Seokjin started suddenly, sighing heavily. The whispering made you frown, wondering what he meant.

"What? What won't do?" Your voice was a little rough even if you had barely used it through the night, and you cleared your throat to try and speak properly. "Us?" You added hesitantly.

Not meeting your eyes Seokjin nodded, and your heart sank instantly, eyes prickling.

"You see the thing is," he started, and you wanted to move, but your whole body felt incredibly numb, his arms doing nothing to the sudden cold you were feeling. "I can't put you on my team if you're my girlfriend, but you have so much potential in the area- Why are you crying? I'll talk to Namjoon about it, please don't be upset love," As his eyes turned back to look at you Jin noticed - and you noticed - your teary state, as you rolled your eyes and sniffed.

"Don't scare me like that, you prick!" You scoffed, wiping your tears and meeting his utterly confused gaze. He really wasn't even trying to joke, you understood. You sighed. "And that's a weird way to ask me to be your girlfriend if I have any saying on this," you chuckled, watching his eyes widen as he realized he had really said something about that.

"That means it's a no?" Seokjin asked, looking the most insecure you've ever seen him. Somehow, it was cute.

"No take backs, you've already said it, now you're stuck with me." You bopped his nose with a serious expression, watching a smile take over his lips, as he hugged you tighter.

"I can't believe I have a nurse, a girlfriend and the best intern this whole internship program has ever seen in my bed." At that you chuckled, snuggling to his chest with a satisfied sigh.

"Well enjoy it while it lasts, because I have to get up in like ten minutes to get your discharge papers." You said, hearing him groan while pressing his face to the top of your head.

"Then a proper date?"

"Then a proper date, sure."

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masterlist

#kim seokjin fanfic #kim seokjin au #doctor!bts #surgeon!bts #bts doctor au #kim seokjin smut

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walaw717 · 5 years

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“I will tell you something about stories … They aren’t just entertainment. Don’t be fooled. They are all we have, you see, all we have to fight off illness and death.” ― Leslie Marmon Silko

I grew up in a story telling culture, the Scots-Irish-German culture of the Appalachia plateau and highlands. My youth was full of family stores – grandparent stories of war and youthful pranks and hauntings. I grew up with tales of will o’ the wisps, the dead ringing bells to alert the living that they were buried alive, water horses that would steal you into a watery realm never to return. Stories were the places where I connected to the past and laid the groundwork for the future.

As an adult I fell into a profession that was a story sharing profession, I became a psychotherapist, a counselor if you will, a person who uses stories to “fight off illness and death.” Eventually, I became a specialist in horror stories, a trauma specialist. Experience and specialized training allowed me to learn how to listen to stories of war, rape, pillage, mass murder, surviving torture and in the listening learned to help people edit those stories. Part of that experience and training was being accompanied into my own experience of trauma by a brave and talented therapist who listened to my stories, helped me step back from my stories and see how I could face the darkness and overcome that darkness by realizing that my stories were not abnormal but part of the human condition:

“We have not even to risk the adventure alone for the heroes of all time have gone before us. The labyrinth is thoroughly known …we have only to follow the thread of the hero path. And where we had thought to find an abomination, we shall find a God.

And where we had thought to slay another, we shall slay ourselves. Where we had thought to travel outwards, we shall come to the center of our own existence. And where we had thought to be alone, we shall be with all the world.” ― Joseph Campbell

My becoming a trauma therapist was a natural transition from a youthful interest in literature, religion, art, science and culture. At the age of twelve I first read Dracula and have re-read it every decade of my life since then, always captivated by the story of the race between Dracula and Van Helsing and van Helsing’s company of common men and women to Dracula’s castle to lay to rest the dark and horrible soul of Dracula once and for all. I see the story of Dracula as the epitome of the seductiveness of trauma and the hidden horror of trauma. In that tale, every single member of van Helsing’s brave band was wounded and changed by the pursuit and casting out of that traumatic darkness in a manner that each member could become their own Van Helsing, their own hero, and conquer the Dracula demon as he manifest in their own story.

Even beyond the story of Dracula my interest in literature, religion, art, science and culture has informed my work as a therapist. Stories like Frankenstein, The Island of Dr. Moreau, The Heart of Darkness and more introduced me broadly into the nature of the human condition. As an undergraduate in the History of Art I learned that Art itself was a story and that the history of Art and literature was an even larger story detailing the human condition and the fears and horrors we all faced. It is now close to thirty years I have helped patients address their own story of horror as they live their part of the story of the human condition.

Today it is common for psychotherapists to list the things, they help clients address. Inevitably topping that list “trauma specialist.” It sounds important and useful but is merely a lost leader for most therapists. Few therapists have the disposition or broad training to actually enter the personal world of horror tales of patients. The cost of actually entering that world of trauma to assist is very high for the therapist and one cannot do so without being scared by the stories of their clients, often experiencing secondary trauma. It is more common now for therapists to simply look into the abyss, listen to a second or third hand account of how to treat such trauma and say – I have seen the darkness, I can help. Looking into the abyss is not the same as going through the abyss with someone holding the light like Beatrice did for Dante. Therapists who use a bit of second and third hand awareness of the abyss to advertise themselves as a trauma specialist is like your local GP saying he is a neurosurgeon because he studied the brain in medical school anatomy. He knows the brain is there but does not have a deep experiential understanding of how it really works.

In the modern western canon of heroic heroes fighting illness and death the main hero of the story is the medical professional, the doctor or nurse – a person of science welding knife, potion and bed pan. The “counselor” is poorly respected and often excluded from this role because the very nature of being a counselor has not been to become a person of action applying scalpel and potion to address illness and death. Instead the role of the counselor is more like that of Athena appearing as Mentor to Telemachus in the Odyssey, a guide and moderator moving Telemachus from impulsive youth toward wise thoughtful adult. Unlike the Doctor with a slashing scalpel or a bag full of herbs the counselor’s tools are questions? “Tell me how can I help?” usually followed by “what happened?” and “what happened next?”, thus opening a story to be told and heard, embraced and wept-over, in time understood and hopefully healed in the shared delight of the mentor/counselor showing the story teller how heroically they came through the journey. It is very difficult now for the patient to find an Athena, a Mentor, a van Helsing to listen to the story of their dark ordeal. Sadly, in the effort to gain scientific and financial respectability the “counseling profession” has given up story listening and instead now provides “evidence-based formulas” like a doctor prescribes a pill then rush patients and their stories out of the door in as few sessions as possible. Psychotherapy has so wanted to join the fabled ranks of the medical profession that it has given up its greatest tool, listening and helping rewrite the tales of horror our patients bring us. Instead we simply apply the bandages of evidence-based care to the wound and call it a day never really understanding it is our job to do both, to listen and to teach. In our efforts to receive legitimacy in medicine we forgot that counselors were the bedside manner doctors abandoned with the ten-minute visit imposed by the accountants from the insurance companies.

I also believe that the unwillingness to listen is a lack of courage on the part of many who enter the counseling profession. This lack of courage stems from one major change in the training of Psychotherapists. Now, unlike thirty or more years ago when one had to tell the tale of one’s own race along the Danube and across that Wallachian plain or relate one’s own quest for the great white whale and face the turmoil of one’s inner demons, learning how to overcome the fear and finding great courage in the adventure of the quest to lay one’s demons to rest, one now takes a few courses in university about abstract theories distilled from the writings of the masters of the profession, has a two year internship of how to complete endless forms and then gets a certification as a master of the craft of Counseling. In short, most therapists no longer are required to undertake that great journey of the soul toward self-knowledge and healing. And the very nature of university training tends to exclude counselors more and more from the study of undergraduate humanities which would inform the Counseling student about the historical continuity of the human condition expressed throughout time in literature, Art, religion and history. Having been separated from that knowledge of the humanities Counselors have lost the art and power not only story telling but in the exclusion from their training the struggle with their own journey into the heart of darkness learning how to help edit a story into one of heroic victory. Those who come to us for mentoring leave never understanding why the demon still rises in the night of their soul and why the behavioral plasters we offer in time no longer work. The answer is simple, counselors have stopped listening and even when they do they have never made the journey themselves and really do not know how to guide another through it.

My life partner carries such demons in her soul and time and again she tells me she simply wants someone to help her tell her stories, to have someone to just listen and then show her how to heal. She says that every therapist she approaches insists that she needs to only focus on the here and now and use this technique or another and that she will be well all the while shutting her need to share her stories down. Thanks to therapists shutting her story down she now “feels that it is pointless to even ask for such help” with healing her story. Although I know how, I cannot help her edit her story into one of victory because I am too close to offer the magic of the therapeutic relationship, I cannot be Beatrice to her Dante. I am a commoner in her daily stories and ther is no mystery or magic ther of healer to healed. This being told to focus only on the here and now is not just her story but a story I have heard time and again when I begin with patients and ask them why therapy has not worked in the past. I remember more than one patient telling me that the fact I could hear their story and not be destroyed helped them in turn not allow the story to continue to destroy them.

I believe what has happened in the mental health community in the last fifteen years is a shame. In our efforts to be accepted into the medical/insurance community we have given up the very gift of listening and its power we offered. We turned ourselves over to the behavioral psychology community whose model is the bell and the rat for our understanding of the human condition. Of course, we need the stake, the silver bullet, the whaleboat and harpoon – but we need to help people tell the tale of their struggle, the story of the fear of the quest go with them and show them when, where and how to use the stake, the silver bullet, the whaleboat and harpoon. Above all we to meet patients where they are when they come to see us by first listening to the story as they understand it and offer the empowering “I hear your fear, your frustration your confusion, will you let me help?” We can only do that if we honestly slow down and listen and help them open that story to us with gentle encouragement. When we do that and keep in mind our role is not to allow them to get trapped in telling and retelling but providing them direction through the use of the tools we have not only will therapy move forward quickly but will allow our patients to have lasing relief. If all we do is offer them “tools” without the context of their story then in the end, we offer them nothing.

“Everything is held together with stories. Barry Lopez

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ice-cream-nekogirl · 5 years

Text

Amy Martinez (Character Sheet TV Tropes Style) F-J

Face of An Angel, Mind of A Demon: Amy has the appearance of a diminutive and harmless girl, but she’s actually a very powerful but hardly stable witch who’s not above ripping someone’s face apart or curse them with her magic.

Fake Cutie: Has a cute appearance and uses it for deception.

Fangirl: Of Stevie Nicks, Billie Eilish, Brendon Urie, Melanie Martinez, Lizzo, Selena Gomez and Demi Lovato. And also for the stars on Game of Thrones.

Fantastic Racism: Downplayed. Amy has nothing against humans with quirks, but since some of those humans were witch hunters who killed her parents (including her father who was a human with a quirk) she naturally prefers being among other witches or warlocks. And while she’s prone to claiming that witches are better than normal humans, it comes more from immaturity and a dislike of human cruelty than genuine bigotry.

Fatal Flaw: Amy’s fear of abandonment is her ultimate downfalls that makes her her own worst enemy as she takes everything seriously from her loved ones, including criticism, believing it to be negative words towards her and a criticism of her character, which leads her to blaming others, whether they are guilty or not, and she lashes out at them violently which has created her unstable relationships with even people she loves and builds unspoken tension and resentment towards them, which further adds to Amy’s self-hatred and fear that those friends will want to abandon her. And when she senses this, she goes to desperate lengths to keep those friends close, even if it’s at the cost of her own happiness. Ironically, it’s this fear that actually drives people away from her which just creates this unhealthy cycle that she desperately wants to break.

Female Misogynist: Ironically but not intentionally, as Amy is actually a feminist who wants equal rights for women and for women to be treated with respect. However, she tends to disrespect and look down on other girls who don’t live up to her standards for women as she shows little to no respect for her female classmates and dismisses them as ‘weak’ or ‘soft’ and believes that they rely simply on being ‘cute’ and ‘nice’ and ‘having a pretty smile’. This is something that she eventually realizes to her horror and tries to work on.

Fighter, Mage, Thief: Between her, Ashlen and Shinsou, she’s obviously the Mage, being the witch with several powers and ability to use 6 of the 7 wonders to Shinsou being the manipulative and sneaky Thief with the power of Brainwashing quirk and Ashlen being the Fighter due to her swordsmanship, combat skills and speed she utilizes for her Cancel quirk.

Fille Fatale: Even though she’s immature and youthful looking, Amy isn’t above using her feminine wiles to lure men into traps. As she pretended to be interested in some older men because she knew they were pedophiles and tricked them so she can later slaughter them when she had them fooled.

The First Cut Is The Deepest: Midoriya was Amy’s first real love, but when he rejected and dismissed her feelings, Amy broke down hard and even in the present day his harsh rejection whether he meant it or not, is still something that haunts her to this very day and she’s prone to falling into a depression whenever she thinks about it.

Flight: The first power that awoken in her was her telekinesis which allowed her to float while she was sleeping one day and ever since learned how to use her telekinesis to fly. She even uses a broom!

Flying Broomstick: Brooke. Although it doesn’t actually fly as Amy uses her telekinesis to make it fly, but nonetheless has it as a means to fly around and also use it to carry people and take them for a ride.

Foil: To quite a few others.

To Midoriya. They both grew up without a quirk, and were bullied by peers because of it however Amy gained her powers much quicker than Midoriya did, and as she gained her powers her confidence lead her to becoming arrogant and abuses her powers whenever she can unlike Midoriya who is much more responsible with One For All and retains his humble personality. Also, while Midoriya never received his quirk prior to getting One For All From All-Might, Amy’s powers only emerged later on when she was 9 years old due to having a unique and inborn heritage. Lastly, Amy’s powers are innate while Midoriya’s quirk was given to him. Similarly, as Midoriya’s several quirks develop at a slow rate, Amy picks up on her manifesting powers fairly quickly.

To Bakugo. They’re both extremely powerful students with very versatile powers and somewhat unstable personalities however Amy is a kinder person, able to socialize better with others and knows what it’s like to feel powerless and unwanted, contrast to Bakugo who’s abrasive and rude to everyone and doesn’t seem able to empathize well with other people. As far as their tempers go, Bakugo is almost always irritable but Amy’s temper is much more unpredictable as she can go from cheerful to pissed off in a snap. Lastly, Bakugo’s obsession with winning comes from a desire to prove himself to be the best, whilst Amy’s goes beyond wanting to be the best and instead is more her wanting to earn respect for both being a witch and a woman.

To Tokoyami. They’re more of the gothic students in the class with very powerful abilities that are fueled by their emotions, however Tokoyami doesn’t have complete control over Dark Shadow when it goes on a rampage beyond his desires, while Amy has exceptional control over her abilities and freely loses control during a meltdown with the full intent of hurting others. Also, while Tokoyami expresses the fear of hurting people with his quirk, while Amy is afraid of how much she enjoys hurting people when using her powers.

To Ashlen. They both have more than one power, grew up ostracized and had very little friends in their childhood and faced bullying from peers which led to them becoming distant from others. However, Amy has an optimistic, energetic, outgoing personality but is also crude and mean occasionally while Ashlen has a calm, collected and realistic personality and is always kind and respectful to her peers. Similarly, they grew up among important and reserved groups of people and were some of the youngest ones, but Ashlen had stable and moral guardians who looked after her the way normal guardians should, while Amy’s guardians and upperclassmen barely supervised her and let her get involved in things (murder, spying) no pre-teen should ever be a part of. Also, Ashlen’s sadistic side is purely from the effects of her second quirk while Amy’s sadistic side is natural. Lastly, Amy’s several powers manifested naturally while Ashlen’s second quirk was forcefully implanted into her.

Formally Fat: Played for Drama. She was a lot pudgier as a child, but after she lost her parents and went through more loss and trauma in New Orleans, Amy stopped eating as the stress kept her from having a healthy diet and she ended up losing some of her weight in the process.

Four Philosophy Ensemble: Amy is the Optimist, Bakugo is the Cynic, Shinsou is The Realist, Madison is Apathetic and Ashlen is Conflicted.

During her internship with Endeavor, she remains the Optimist, Bakugo remains the Cynic, while Midoriya is The Realist and Todoroki is Conflicted.

Four Temperament Ensemble: When she’s with Shinsou and Ashlen while being joined by Bakugo or Madison: Amy (sanguine), Bakugo (choleric), Shinsou (melancholic) and Ashlen (phlegmatic) and Madison (eclectic).

During her internship with Endeavor, she’s still sanguine, Bakugo is still choleric, Midoriya is melancholic and Todoroki is phlegmatic.

Free-Range Children: When she starts living at Robichaux, Cordelia and her sisters would often let her explore wherever she felt like it, although Cordelia made sure that Zoe or Madison would watch her, they didn’t really do a good job at it, mainly Madison, who claimed that Amy would need to grow up and learn how to find her own way back home. This led to Amy being a curious wanderer and an adventurer, but she did learn how to find ways back home.

Freudian Excuse: Amy’s lack of moral restraint stems from feeling isolated by her peers due to a lack of a quirk (until her powers manifested) and then she had to watch her mother get burnt to the stake for being a witch and her father get lynched simply for marrying and being allied with the witches, and nearly burnt to the stake herself. And while she was rescued by the pro-heroes, neither of them wanted to take care of a young witch and instead had the New Orleans witches take her away from her former life and cut her off from Shinsou and his family, her only allies, and she experienced culture shock when she arrives in America which resulted in her feeling abandoned by her former society. To make it worse, she ended up being left in the hand of a barely functioning coven as she then had to experience betrayals within her new family, watched some of her sisters die, risked getting hunted by witch hunters again, learned how to kill at a very early age for the sake of survival and had to participate in a test that could have resulted in death. Is it any wonder that she ended up losing her sanity and no longer cared about good and evil when returning to Japan?

Freudian Trio: Of the Zombie Trio with her best friends Shinsou and Ashlen, she is the impulsive, emotional Id to Ashlen’s level-headed, gentle Ego and Shinsou’s logical, rational Superego.

Hilariously enough though, when it was her, Shinsou and Madison, Amy was actually the more laidback Ego to Madison’s rebellious Id as Shinsou remained the Superego.

And similarly, when she’s with her witch sisters Mallory and Coco, it is the childish and naive Coco who is the Id, with Amy being the more well-rounded Ego, and the kind but powerful and patient Mallory is the Superego.

The Friend Nobody Likes: Amy’s not very popular in the Hero Course because of her attitude, but it’s also mostly out of fear because of her borderline psychotic personality. Her classmates are still very civil with her, but nonetheless do whatever they can do to avoid angering her. However, Shinsou, Ashlen, Todoroki, Kaminari and Midoriya like her just fine.

Friend to All Living Things: Amy absolutely adores animals and has made several animal friends, in fact, she became friends with Kouda due to their love for animals and it’s also why she was very close to Misty since she was an animal-lover too. In fact, Amy’s stated that she has more empathy for animals than she does for humans and it shows through several of the animal friends she’s made such as her beloved dog Dakota, the coven’s new raven Athena, an elephant she befriended in Thailand named Missy and her new orca friend she named Kasumi.

Friendly Enemy: She and Toga are still very cordial with each other and consider each other as friends as they tend to chat like girls do even as they’re supposed to be fighting each other. Amy and Twice are also pretty chummy with each other.

Friends With Benefits: Before she and Bakugo officially started dating, she notes that she and Kaminari would indulge in some making out without it being serious.

From Nobody to Nightmare: Due to not gaining a quirk by the normal age, Amy was believed to be quirkless and nicknamed ‘Powerless Amy’ by her classmates in elementary school, but when she turned 9 years old she instead discovered her witch powers and had to conceal them. At least until she transferred to Robichaux to harness those powers and eventually returned to Japan much stronger than before. As she entered UA, she is now currently one of the most powerful, and feared students of the Hero Course as many of her classmates agree that she’s the last person they want to be fighting against.

Gasshole: Can rip very powerful, unladylike burps and even gets dubbed as the ‘best female belcher’ of 1-A, she is very proud of this.

Generation Xerox: She serves as one for Fiona while Midoriya is All-Might’s. Fiona was the only known person who ever defeated All-Might even during his prime, as Midoriya enters his prime, so does Amy as she becomes as powerful as Fiona as she’s currently the only person who can match Midoriya in terms of power and is currently the only person who’s been able to defeat him through matching power.

Genki Girl: EXTREMELY energetic, optimistic, upbeat, hyperactive and practically psychotic. Possibly deconstructed though, as she’s optimistic to a fault by blocking out the more horrible things she’s seen in New Orleans and acts upbeat and cheerful even when there’s bloodshed and horror involved as a means to keep herself from breaking any further.

Girlish Pigtails: She wears a pair of low pigtails to signify her somewhat childish and upbeat nature.

Girly Bruiser: She’s upbeat, wears pink and other frilly dresses and hats while also expressing a deep love for cute things, but she’s also a very powerful witch who’s more than capable of inflicting serious harm towards an opponent as her classmates know better than to underestimate her.

Girly Girl with a Tomboyish Streak: Although she’s shown to be quite feminine (in her own way) , she’s also not afraid of getting dirty, spending time outside with animals, happily sparring with Bakugo and the guys as well as showing no shame in burping or making vulgar jokes.

Glass Cannon: She’s a very powerful witch, but she’s ultimately not the most physically powerful student as she relies primarily on her magic and telekinesis for defense and offense. Then uses too many of her powers at the same time drains her rather quickly, which can leave an opening when she’s using mainly one power. In fact, all someone needs to do is break past her magical defenses and deliver one good hit to bring her down and although Amy knows how to fight back, she’s really not all that powerful without her magic.

The Glomp: Amy loves to hug-attack her best friends Ashlen and Shinsou, but also her boyfriend Bakugo, and friends she adores such as Mallory, Misty, Midoriya and Todoroki, as well as Hagakure and Kaminari.

Going Commando: Of the bra variety. As it’s shown at the Sports festival when she openly flashed the crowd, that Amy doesn’t wear a bra because she says they’re ‘too itchy’.

The Greatest Story Never Told: She went back in time with Mallory to prevent the Apocalypse from occurring by redeeming and giving Michael a better life, but no one other than Amy and Mallory remember what happened in their original timeline and swore to keep it a secret from their friends.

Groin Attack: Amy says that the coven trained her in combat for 4 years, but that combat is apparently centered around this trope as whenever she’s in a physical fight with an opponent or classmate (male or female) in sparring, she proceeds to kick, punch and smash whoever it is in the balls and crotch with karate moves.

Gun Nut: Amy’s learned how to be proficient with a gun and gets a little too excited when she gets to use one during her New Orleans trip with Midoriya against a cult of Satanists.

Hair Contrast Duo: Her dirty blonde hair definitely contrasts with Shinsou’s purple hair. And also with with the black-haired Ashlen. Helps that Amy’s excitable and outgoing nature perfectly contrasts with the more low-key and reserved Ashlen and Shinsou.

Hair of Gold, Heart of Gold: Zigzagged, Amy’s a troublemaker and perfectly capable of being cruel, but she does have a big heart underneath it all and isn’t afraid to show how much she cares for her loved ones.

Hair Trigger Temper: Although she’s usually excitable and perky, she’s got an unpredictable, volatile temper that’s VERY easy to set off and she quickly resorts to violence when provoked.

Ham and Deadpan Duo: Again, she’s the Ham to the Deadpan Shinsou since Amy’s always loud and cheerful, while Shinsou’s is quieter and sarcastic.

Harmful To Minors: She accidentally taught Eri two swears “fuck” and “asshole”, however, although Amy finds it both shocking and hilarious she tells her to not say them in front of adults. Justified though, as Amy was only 11 and exposed to vulgar, foul-mouthed witches such as Madison, Queenie and Fiona and thus sees little issue with this, but does try to at least keep children like Kota and Eri from learning adult concepts.

Has A Type: Sort of. Amy notes that she tends to be subconsciously who have as much anger issues as she does. (i.e Bakugo, Madison, Darcy, etc.)

Hates Being Alone: Amy can’t stand being alone, but then she also has her moments where she feels that she’s better off alone when reflecting on her worst crimes.

He Who Fights Monsters: After what she’s been through, Amy resolves to fight for all other witches and wizards, even if it means killing those who hunt and prosecute other witches. She also kills and tortures rapists, pedophiles and child abusers for hurting innocent people.

The Hecate Sisters: She’s the childish but vulgar Maiden to Ashlen’s level-headed and sweet Mother and Madison’s cynical and bitter Crone.

Heroic Self-Deprecation: For all her bravado, Amy actually has an extremely low opinion of herself to the point of isolating herself because she feels like everyone would be better off without her.

In fact, she even attempted to erase everyone’s memory of her (but it backfired by hitting her and Shinsou) because she wanted everyone to forget about her since she felt that she had done more harm than good to everyone and came to the conclusion that she didn’t belong with the Heroes.

Heterosexual Life-Partners: She and Ashlen very quickly hit it off online and then become best friends in real life who love each other and always have each other’s backs.

Hidden Depths: While Amy seems flighty and carefree she’s actually very knowledgeable about politics, reads a lot of works by female, POC, queer and trans authors and is very much an activist when it comes to feminism, knows all about racism and intersectionality as she frequently spouts them as a reason for her heroism. She also knows a lot of facts about wildlife, endangered animals and the issues of climate change and animal poaching.

She’s also very eclectic when it comes to her music choices, being fond of and well-informed about groups and singers from the 70′s, 80′s and 90′s. And has shown to be an actually pretty good singer and poet.

Amy’s also a good baker as shown where she happily spends time with Satou when it comes to baking desserts and likes to watch the Food Network with him.

She also knows an awful lot about drag culture, drag queens and aspires to be a judge on Rupaul’s Drag Race one day.

Hikikomori: When she’s really depressed she tends to hide away and lock herself in her large mansion without coming out and instead just has all of her groceries left outside so she can bring them in later. In fact, after what she did to Midoriya and Aizawa, she quit UA and stormed off from Heights Alliance for those many months and mostly remained in her mansion and refused to come out as she spent her days with Madison or Mallory and Shinsou even started staying over just to keep her company by watching TV, eating junk food and sleeping.

His Own Worst Enemy: Her major insecurities are the biggest fuel to the bubbling rage inside of her which is what makes her even more of an unstable, self-loathing individual. She’s trying to break away from this, but is prone to relapsing into bouts of depression or lashing out at others.

Horrifying The Horror: Other witches are afraid of her, including her wicked friend Darcy Delaney, who specializes in creating living shadows and summoning demons, states that Amy is intimidating when angry. And then Todoroki becomes mildly alarmed by her display of power against him during the Sports Festival. Then Bakugo of all people starts to fear her, although this might have to do with the fact that he witnessed her snap a man’s neck and threaten to maim Endeavor without even blinking or showing emotion, and then Endeavor himself was visibly unnerved by her threat because he knew she meant it.

Hot Blooded: She’s VERY high-strung and VERY energetic and thus VERY loud and VERY passionate about whatever it is that piques her interest.

The Hyena: Prone to giggling and cackling often at anything she finds funny, even at inappropriate times.

Hypocrite: She gets upset with Midoriya for leading Todoroki, Kirishima, Yaoyorozu and Iida on the rescue mission to save Bakugo and herself and thus disobeying what the pro-heroes told them to do, even though Amy constantly goes against authority herself. Although this has more to do with Amy not wanting anyone to risk their lives just to save her, but her hypocrisy is still present.

She also calls Camie a “Skintight Slut” despite Amy constantly saying that she dislikes the word and disapproves of Slut-Shaming.

Similarly, despite preaching sisterhood, Amy is not above gossiping with Madison and talking smack about other girls behind their backs especially if they’re talking about Uraraka or even Yaoyorozu despite being fond of the later.

Hypocritical Humor: She states that “snitches get stitches” despite the fact that she often threatens to tattle on Aizawa to Cordelia and also tattles on her other classmates to Madison for gossip.

Hypocritical Heartwarming: Amy can be mean to her classmates, especially Iida, Ojiro and Midoriya, but she won’t tolerate anyone else (not even Madison) being mean to them. Also, while she might express her frustration towards Bakugo, she doesn’t stand for Madison regarding him as just a ‘dog’ and tormenting him with her powers as Amy quickly stops her from belittling him.

I Just Want To Be Loved: Because she felt rejected and outcast by her peers growing up, both in Hero Society and even among her own coven when it grew, Amy’s developed a desperate desire to be loved by people, especially people she knows. In fact, she later decides that one of her reasons to become a hero and a powerful witch is so she can be loved and admired.

She also wishes to have a legitimate healthy relationship as she laments that she’s been unlucky in love because her first boyfriend used her and abused her, her first love Midoriya spurned (unintentionally) her confession and then her on-and-off relationship with Bakugo sometimes doesn’t always have a happy ending.

Amy: (in tears) Why is that every single man that I’ve ever loved has treated me like shit?!

I Just Want To Have Friends: On the same notion, Amy desperately wants to have more friends as she lamented being outcast from both young kids in Japan and other witches. In fact, it’s implied that the reason why Amy tends to spend excessively on all her classmates is because she wants them all to like her.

I Lied: Amy knows how to lie, is good at it, and does so frequently, but especially when she and Bakugo were captured and Shigaraki tried to sway her into joining as she promised that she would do whatever he wanted. When Bakugo calls her out on this later, Amy quickly states that she only said she would do what he wanted, but had no plans to actually live up to what she said.

I’ll Kill You!: Much like Bakugo, Amy is fond of saying this, however, unlike Bakugo, Amy tends to mean it whenever she threatens to kill someone and it’s genuinely chilling because she almost always says it in a calm tone complete with a eerily calm disposition.

Amy: (to Endeavor, calmly with little emotion) On a day when you won’t expect it... on a day that will be your last... should you ever do anything to Shoto again, or any of your children, or Ms. Rei... I will personally jam my knife into your eye-socket, through your brain, and out your skull and turn it into an ash tray. I swear it. (Endeavor is visibly unnerved)

Impaled With Extreme Prejudice: Her first death was at the hands of a witch hunter with a ‘Perfect Aim’ quirk as he tossed a spear into the air while she was flying and shot her out of the air and into the ocean. She gets better though as Cordelia retrieves her body and Misty revives her.

Intergenerational Friendship: When Amy becomes friends with Todoroki, she meets his mother Rei, and the two almost immediately hit it off with Amy’s blithe spirit cheering up the depressed woman. In return, Rei finds Amy both delightful and beautiful and is always happy to see her, and talk with her about new things Amy’s introduced her to.

She’s also best friends with Coco St. Pierre Vanderbilt who’s almost 10 years older than her but ironically Amy looks after her and takes care of her, especially when online bullies are being mean to her.

Interspecies Romance: Amy (a witch) and Bakugo (a human with a quirk) ultimately count as this due to Amy’s heritage being genetic.

Ironic Name: Sometimes. Amy means ‘beloved’ or ‘love’, but Amy at times shows a very resentful, hateful and cruel personality on her worst days.

It Amused Me: She pulls pranks on her classmates, especially Iida and Bakugo, all for the sake of her own amusement.

It’s All About Me: Has a habit of making things about her, makes sure to get instant gratification and loves hogging the spotlight if it means she’s the focus and generally enjoys being the center of everyone’s attention and thus explains why she acts the way she does if it means it can be about herself. Even when she knows it’s not about her, she often tries to put herself back in the focus.

Jerkass: While not quite at Bakugo or Madison’s level, Amy CAN be just as cruel and aggressive as them when in a foul or bitchy mood and is considered the second most hostile student of the Hero Course.

Amy: “I’m a bitch, I can’t help it.”

Jerk With a Heart of Gold: She’s rude, inconsiderate at times, a lunatic and something of a jerk who does things for her amusement even if it’s at the expense of her friends and can even be cruel, but deep down she’s a sensitive, emotional and loving girl who does truly care for and love all of her friends and is VERY protective of them as she will do literally anything for them, stand up for them and support them. And when they are distraught or upset, Amy becomes sweet and comforting and does everything she can to make them feel better.

She’s also shown to be able to be very considerate as she always makes sure that Ashlen is comfortable and happy during her stay at UA, as well as making sure to avoid triggering Todoroki when she senses that something is troubling him.

#amy martinez #original character #ahs #ahs coven #american horror story #american horror story coven #coven #witches #bnha #mha #bnha oc #mha oc #my hero academia original character #boku no hero academia original character #tv tropes

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mavrustheunskooled · 5 years

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gay representation in Starkid shows: a giant rambly post no one asked for

I have a lot of thoughts about gay representation in Starkid musicals (I would say LGBT+ rep but there aren’t any trans characters except for debatably Chorn, who’s described as a monster, so that doesn’t really count) and I’m sure no one cares but I’m writing about how it has changed and how it differs for mlm and wlw and ye

so first off let’s establish gay characters in starkid musicals (I’ve heard that some of these are up to interpretation, but I’m basing this off the idea that most people recognize the romance-coding in these pairings)

Quirrell/Voldemort (AVPM/AVPSY)

Ron (AVPM/AVPS/AVPSY)

Dumbledore (AVPM/AVPS/AVPSY)

Scarfy/Sorty (AVPS/AVPSY)

Seamus/Dean (AVPC)

McDoon/Cletus (TTO)

Zazzalil/Jemilla (Firebringer)

Alice/Deb (TGWDLM)

that’s 7 MLM characters dating back to 2009, 4 WLW characters dating back to 2016, and 2 that are objects (a scarf and a hat) that can’t really be assigned genders

what I find really interesting is the difference between the way the mlm and wlw are treated. until 2016, starkid did not have any wlw characters in their musicals; however, the mlm characters that they did have were not treated well

Quirrell and Voldemort are an interesting case because it is difficult to discern if they are treated as a joke because they are gay or because nothing is taken seriously in AVPM. I think that, although they are a joke, they’re more acceptable because no couple in AVPM is treated very seriously. if the Ron/Hermione kiss scene exists, then I’m here for whatever nonsense Quirrell and Voldemort want to get up to. (but I’m not done with them- put a pin in this)

(I also have to acknowledge that their scene in AVPSY is beautiful. stunning. amazing. perfect. they are maybe starkid’s best mlm because, even though they start off as a joke, there’s their CHILD and the “okay is wonderful” line and the way Quirrell leans his head against Voldemort and smiles softly and I’m tearing up because I love them okay anYWAY)

Ron is also odd because he is confirmed bi in AVPS, but that point is never revisited. on one hand, that’s nice because his entire life doesn’t revolve around his sexuality and it doesn’t change who he is, but on the other hand, Ron is canonically bi in the AVPM trilogy and it’s never really a thing. (again, it doesn’t Have to be a thing, but that would be lovely. also one could argue that some of his interactions with Harry are a bit like a pining bisexual, but that brings up a bunch of other issues. for one, gay-character-pines-after-straight-friend is Tired. it also enhances the idea that mlm are a joke, an idea that we will revisit again and again in this post.)

AVPM trilogy Dumbledore is bad. what else can I say. he makes inappropriate comments to children. his sexuality and existence are a giant joke. I don’t think there’s any instance where his sexuality is not treated as a punchline.

Scarfy and Sorty are every gay stereotype ever. Scarfy has the “””gay voice””” and they’re a rainbow, which aren’t necessarily bad, but just. Yikes. they do have some cute moments (”why do you have to be so brave”) but also... I’m not saying it’s bury your gays, but one of them does die...

Seamus and Dean are confirmed to be married in A Very Potter Christmas (I believe). it’s a brief mention, similar to Ron, that can retroactively be applied to the AVPM trilogy, but mostly it comes off as a “haha they’re husbands it’s comedy gold”

then there’s McDoon and Cletus. Oh boy. they’re the worst. a good way to tell if gay characters are being played as a joke because they’re gay or if it’s just a joke is to switch the gender of one person. imagine if Cletus was a woman, and then imagine all of the scenes that imply something between him and McDoon. it completely changes the meaning of them. they’re also the villains. gay villains aren’t necessarily bad; however, there is a big trend of villains being gay because it associates being bad with being gay. media influences how people view the world. if every gay person you see is a bad person, you’ll begin to think gay = bad. they’re the worst.

a common trend of starkid mlm, such as Ron and Seamus/Dean, is that they are briefly mentioned once and then never returned to. there is nothing wrong with briefly mentioning that a character is part of the LGBT+ community without elaborating on it because that’s not the only aspect of their character. one good example of this is the gay gas attendant in solve it squad (I know we’re dipping into TCB, but I think they’re great about LGBT+ rep, or at least gay rep). he mentions his boyfriend, and it’s not a big deal, but it’s nice to hear. it’s nice to hear that Ron, Seamus, and Dean are all mlm. the issue comes in when that’s all the rep that exists. the AVPM trilogy is a special case because it has multiple mlm characters, so this rule doesn’t apply as strongly as in other cases, but it’s worth mentioning.

the most common trend of starkid mlm is that they are played as a joke. Quirrell/Voldemort are the closest starkid gets to a loving relationship between two men. and there is nothing wrong with one gay couple being comedic. I adore QM’s songs- different as can be is a work of art. the issue stems, similar to the gay villain trope, from when it becomes a repeated trend. if gay people are always jokes, that means viewers will begin to associate being gay with being a joke. starkid mlm are never allowed to have a beautiful love story like, for example, jafar and scheherazade. the best they can hope for is a nice ending at the end of the third musical in a trilogy after their ending in the first installment was done as a joke rather than sincerely. it’s the trend of lacking a meaningful love story that’s the problem, not the individual cases.

OKAY now onto the wlw.

the main issue with starkid wlw is that they were nonexistent until firebringer. I hope that I’m missing something, but if I’m right, there were not any wlw for 7 years. it’s nonsense that starkid didn’t have canon wlw until then. I know there are excuses to make, like it was a different time and whatever, but it still seems weird.

Zazzalil and Jemilla are great. they’re the main characters, there’s no doubt that they’re in love, and they sing a gay duet. beautiful. stunning. effervescent. I also think the “they weren’t built up enough” argument is interesting because I definitely get it to a point but also straight couples are never built up but they’re everywhere. let a gay couple that’s not perfectly built up end up together like straights do all the time. (also they were built up a bit, although I agree that it could have been more)

more eloquent people than me have praised Alice and Deb before, but I’ll try. Alice is great because she has the exact conflict that a straight kid might have: her dad doesn’t approve of her significant other. Bill isn’t homophobic; he just doesn’t like Deb. when he suggests other people for Alice to date, a guy’s name doesn’t come to mind. he supports his lesbian daughter- just not her taste in women. it’s great.

so starkid held off on wlw until they decided to do representation seriously. their wlw are treated with respect, and they’re interesting characters who are more than their sexuality.

so why do I bring all of this up? because I think it’s interesting, but also because of Workin’ Boys, the (potentially coming) short film.

starkid has not really moved past their joking-mlm days. I’m not saying that they’re super homophobic because they’re obviously not. But, they still do some questionable things. Hidgens is really gay-coded, and it’s a giant joke, and it makes me concerned about workin’ boys. I don’t know if there will be gay characters (although I can always hope), but if there are, I don’t know if they’ll fall into the same stereotype trap that others have fallen into. mlm exist who do fit into the stereotypical idea of a mlm; however, I think it’s important to show a variety of people, and I’m concerned that that will not happen.

TL;DR starkid representation has been hit or miss, but it’s getting better, and I can only hope that it continues to improve.

#I love starkid and i'm not saying they're homophobic so don't @ me #also I had a whole other part planned about transphobia but I decided to not get into it #starkid #mine #also this google doc was almost 3 pages long sldkfljf #rambles

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thelangdoncooperative · 6 years

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Seven Wonders

Part 1

“Alright, everyone,” Zoe told the small group of women before her, “Show me how strong you are. It should be a fairly simple enchantment. You all have a white rose. Make it red, please,” She stood back from the table they sat around and watched her pupils.

Y/N picked up her rose and stared at it. She was unimpressed with the task at hand. This class was already her least favorite and although she could tell Zoe tried to encourage them, Y/N knew a lot of these girls weren’t strong enough for some of these enchantments. Y/N thought the teacher must be taking mercy on the weak with this simple task.

After inspecting her rose and questioning the point of the assignment, she simply tapped the rose with her finger and the petals turned a deep gray before turning completely black. The other girls had finished their task and held their red roses in shock. They watched silently as Y/N stared hard at her rose until the petals all fell from the stem. When the last one had fallen to the table, she opened her hand wide before winding her fingers down into her palm. The black petals disappeared. Y/N sat back, pleased with herself.

“You can’t help yourself can you,” called the girl two seats over, “You just have to show off,”

Y/N smiled, “Don’t be jealous cause you’re still level one, Reagan,”

When Zoe dismissed the class, she asked Y/N to stay behind, “It’s not that you’re not doing incredibly well. I just need you to work on following directions,” she explained.

“I get that but c’mon. This is like witchcraft for beginners. I can do more than this. I want to do more than this. You know I can,” she replied, “I bet if I tried I could pass the test of the Seven Wonders,”

Zoe’s eyes widened in disbelief, “You’re too arrogant for you own good. Think of all the failed witches who came before you. That was their downfall. You still have a lot to learn. There’s still a lot you have to control,”

“Yeah...I’ll work on it,” She politely nodded before leaving the room. When she walked out, a few of her classmates were waiting for her. No doubt, they were waiting for something to gossip about.

“What happened in there?” One asked.

Another pushed to the front, “Did you get in trouble?”

Y/N laughed, “Jesus, girls. I mean, really, what do you want? She was complimenting me. I made the thing disappear. I didn’t see any of you do that,” she flicked her hair off her shoulder and pulled at the black gloves that slid down her hands. She pulled her hand close to her chest when a girl tried to grab it to get her attention.

“Don’t,” one girl whispered to another, “She has the gift of sight. Unless you want her to know everything-“

Y/N quickly turned on her heels to face the girls behind her that followed up the stairs, “Well, ladies, this has been incredibly stimulating conversation but this is where we part,” she looked at her newest classmate before she left, “Never touch me again.” She hissed before retreating to her room.

Back in the solitude of her own, she felt more at ease. She let out a breath as she closed the door behind her. Leaning on the door, she looked around the room and its emptiness. It didn’t look much different than when her parents had dropped her off Miss Robichaux’s Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies four months earlier. The room was too white for her taste. The floor, the furniture, the curtains. Everything was a crisp white color that took her a few weeks to get used to. Being in her room too long used to give her headaches during her first few weeks.

Now that she was alone she was finally able to take off her gloves. Finally able to let her guard down. She sat down to begin responding to the letters her mom had sent her. Her parents had cell phones but her mom insisted that she preferred the intimacy of a handwritten letter. She thought it would give Y/N a better outlet to express herself. Really all she did was write enough happy thoughts to keep her mother from checking up on her. The last thing she wanted was to go back to her life before. She stifled her magic back then. Now, she was just beginning to show what she could do. Not to mention that her parents brought her to the academy after her dad touched her hand and she exposed the months-long affair that was revealed to her. As she finished up her letter she heard a car pull up to the front of the house. Looking out, she saw their Supreme, Cordelia Goode, step out.

Y/N began to dress for the meeting she knew Cordelia would call. Whenever she came home after supper, there was a meeting. It had always worked out that way. Y/N dressed quickly, knowing it was only a matter of time before someone called her downstairs. She threw on a short-sleeve black dress she loved. It had lace overlay and was see through in the midriff and neck area. She dug through her drawers to find a pair of matching gloves. Before she came here, lace gloves would have been enough to stop the second sight. Since she had gotten stronger in her gifts, she needed something thicker to separate her from others.

When she heard the first of her classmates heading downstairs, she joined them. Chairs had been set up in the grand entryway facing the stairs. The girls all filed in and took their seats. The girls began to gossip amongst themselves about what the reason for their gathering could be. One girl guessed that Cordelia was stepping down. Another guessed that they were getting new students to the academy. When Cordelia entered the room the girls quieted down.

“First, thank you girls for coming down so quickly. I know this was a little last minute on our part,” Cordelia looked to the other senior witches, “The news I have for you is very important for our coven. It’s historical, in a sense.” The girls began to look amongst themselves. Y/N looked at Reagan next to her. For a moment, they both had considered that maybe Cordelia was indeed stepping down.

“I’ve just been to see the Warlocks and their boys school. As we all know, our relationship with the warlocks has been...strained, for lack of a better word,”

“Putting it mildly, dear,” council elder, Myrtle Snow chimed in.

Cordelia continued, “That being said, as Supreme, I would like us to try and bridge this gap. After all, they have gifts like us and it’s only right that we should live harmoniously. In a gesture of goodwill, I have offered places at Miss Robichaux’s Academy to a few of the young men in their care. They will join us for one semester. Please make them feel welcome,” Cordelia motioned to the front door. The door opened and a file of young men walked in. Ten in all, they stood on either side of the seated witches.

Y/N reached over to Reagan and whispered, “When was the last time you got laid, Regan? God knows we could all use a good dicking down,”

“Don’t be vile,” She muttered but she couldn’t disagree.

Cordelia began to give a short speech on the importance of working together and respecting each other’s magic. None of which Y/N took in. She was too busy sizing up her new housemates. Her eyes stopped on one in particular. He was tall and she found that his curly blonde hair made him look cherubic. She liked the way he filled out his uniform and wondered even more what it would look like on the floor. As soon as she thought it, the boy snapped his head to look at her. He tried to fight a grin but failed. She hadn’t noticed the way she was biting her lip as she stared back until Regan elbowed her in the ribs. The boy laughed and turned his head back to the Supreme, pretending that he did not feel her watching.

“That one’s mine,” Y/N whispered harshly to Reagan.

Cordelia released them all for dinner. A welcome meal had been set out for their guests and the Supreme had encouraged her witches to join them in the spirit of fellowship. It was a sort of social mixer. Y/N and a few other girls took advantage of the company of their male counterparts. They sat around a new, longer, dining table Cordelia had brought in to accommodate the new additions to the house. The girls sat down with their food. A few mingled with the boys while others were content to sit and talk about them instead.

“The blonde one is pretty cute,” a newer girl, Sara said.

Reagan shook her head, “Don’t bother. Y/N will only bite your head off,”

Y/N chuckled, “Girls, girls. There’s enough testosterone in the room for all of us,” she looked the girl in the eyes, “But Reagan’s absolutely right. I’ve already called him,”

“That’s not how people work, Y/N. You can’t claim them. He might not even like you,”

Now Y/N really had cause to laugh, “I promise if he likes you, I’ll leave it alone. Better?," her eyes shifted over to him. He returned his attention to his own conversation when the girls caught him looking. Sara took her plate and left the table, face drawn in defeat.

“Well, girls,” Y/N said as she stood from the table, “I’ve got a few things I have to take care of.” She took her pack of cigarettes and headed to the front porch. She looked out and watched the people walking on the sidewalk, looking into the gates curiously as they always did when they passed the house.

For a moment she let her mind truly consider the boy who had caught her eye. She thought about what it might mean to take her gloves off and touch somebody. She only shook her head and laughed at her own silly thoughts. People as beautiful as him always had secrets. She always liked the idea of people rather than knowing them once she had seen all their secrets.

“Smoking is bad for you,” the voice behind her said, “But I’m sure you already know that,”

She did not turn around when she answered, “Would you like me to stop?”

He came to stand next to her, looking to find whatever she was looking at out past the lawn, “I’m Michael Langdon,” he said when he finally turned to face her.

She looked up into his pale eyes, “I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you Mikey,”

He shook his head and his curls bounced, “That’s not what I said, is it?” His tone a bit more authoritative when he spoke.

Y/N bit her lip as she smirked, “Michael Langdon. Got it,” she paused as she flicked the ashes gathered at the tip of her cigarette, “What can I, uhm…” she ran her eyes down his body, stopped at the crotch before looking back at his face,”help you with?”

Michael chuckled darkly, “Do you do that a lot?”

“Do what?” She asked as she put out her cigarette.

He leaned in closer, “Deflect to sex to avoid meaningful conversation,” he smiled at the grimace on her face. When she said nothing, he spoke again. “Goodnight, Y/N” He touched her hand that gripped the banister. She withdrew it quickly, making him smile wider, “Don’t be rude now. Say it back,”

“Goodnight,” she said softly as he turned and walked inside.

@probably-not-okayy @rainhowling @langdontrash @skullchik89 @spring-tidejuvenile @bryanddchartisasmolbean @brieababy @hexqueensupreme @frozenhuntress67 @malheureaux @lustlangdon @arabellashold @cheyenneeagle-blog @afflicto@i-should-probably-be-asleep-rn @the-captain-kidd @marsmonroe @ateliefloresdaprimavera @majestichoechlin @meeeeeeeeeps @narcolepticstorm @shado-cat @smalluniversecollector @bohostrology @del-rcys @arealmermaid @vodkasquip @hxdesworld @noice-smort-no-doubt @gloves94 @wtf-t0zier @althehufflepuff @reading--mermaid

#michael langdon fanfiction #michael langdon #michael langdon fanfic #michael langdon smut #michael langdon x reader #american horror story #american horror story apocalypse #american horror story fanfiction #american horror story smut #ahs8 #ahs smut #ahs apocalypse

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dgcatanisiri · 5 years

Text

The thing that bugs me about the whole mutiny plot in TLJ (besides everything) is that it really is fundamental of BAD. WRITING. Like the problems stem from the out of universe lack of cohesion between the two installments of the sequel trilogy, not based on characterization.

Because initial basics here - the tactical fault in the opening conflict that leads to Leia telling Poe he’s demoted is not Poe’s, but Leia’s. She’s the one holding the fleet, waiting for those fighters, when every fighter in the Rebellion in the original trilogy were established to have independent hyperdrives - Luke heads off to Dagobah in just his X-Wing, we see the snubfighters jumping to and dropping out of hyperspace among the fleet headed to Endor. Could the Resistance have only snubfighters that have no independent hyperdrive? It’s possible, but never established. But Leia keeps the fleet in close instead of withdrawing them, cutting their losses. It is HER choice to remain close enough to pick up the fighters, rather than rendezvous elsewhere.

Likewise, his efforts make sense against the First Order that was established in The Force Awakens. The First Order was some rogue splinter group on the margins, demanding to be taken seriously. They were formed from the wreckage of the Empire and seen as the lunatic fringe. The First Order was established as a rogue state, ignored by the ruling power. The reason Starkiller is so effective as a superweapon is that no one saw it coming from the First Order because them having the resources to build that is such a surprise.

So Poe taking out a dreadnaught, a massive ship capable of laying siege to a planet? The First Order of TFA would be even further crippled by that - they should still be reeling from the loss of Starkiller, indeed, this would justify the appearance by Snoke and his flagship later on, because the Resistance has so seriously bloodied the First Order’s nose that maybe they’re going to need to go quiet for a while as they lick their wounds.

But that’s not what the First Order is in The Last Jedi. In TLJ, they’re in effect the Empire all over again. But again, they SHOULD NOT HAVE THE RESOURCES THE EMPIRE DID. The Empire was built up on top of the bones of the Old Republic. The Empire was broken apart and driven to the margins of galactic society and the New Republic rose to power, taking that structure to build their own government.

There is no explanation of how the First Order goes from rogue state to de facto top of the food chain - even accepting the destruction of the Hosnian system creating a power vacuum, there is no way that the First Order can maintain that power. Their biggest weapon - Starkiller - is destroyed before the shock of the Hosnian’s destruction sinks in. They might have gotten some people flock to them, but at most, TLJ is taking place a few weeks after TFA, if that - the impression we get in the film proper is that this is maybe days after TFA. Even if dozens of systems are rushing to their banner in fear, one, they have no way of building and manning their ships, to say nothing of their inability to hold those planets tight once the destruction of Starkiller is known.

But, again, we have characters reacting as if they’re dealing with the Empire. And the result of the treating of the First Order as the Empire is that the Resistance is treated as the Rebellion. The Resistance was a volunteer militia in TFA. It was literally a case of taking the bodies that came. The Rebellion, having been formed well before the start of ANH, had developed a military structure, especially since many of its recruits were Imperial defectors. If the Resistance is a militia, then morale plays a very different role than it does in a traditional military, because these are people who are volunteers. Volunteers from more military structures like the New Republic’s own armed forces, but volunteers - the majority of the “officers” of the Resistance are likely acting out of direct respect for Leia, who is the head of this ragtag band.

And that’s what makes Holdo’s actions and decisions so frustrating - she takes command as the last chain in the command structure, and then acts as if she assumes she has the same loyalty of the troops as Leia, as someone who was probably the reason many of these people are even there. She makes no effort to get the troops to believe in her, to inspire them, and Poe gets this treatment from her that the producers actively redubbed to change her dialogue, tone it down. So we have Poe responding to her original lines and line readings, while she’s saying different things. Yes, I have to criticize this as an out-of-universe thing, because this is the producers actively altering the language of their film to evoke an audience response the actors weren’t conveying.

Speaking of language of film, I have to address Holdo’s costuming. There’s an interview from the costume designer, who says that the response from Rian Johnson about Holdo, when originally presented with designed that were military in design and cut, as befitting someone called “Admiral” throughout the script, is “Oh no, no, no, no. She’s flirting with Oscar Isaacs’ character, I don’t want her to be in a uniform, I want her to be unique and almost balletic.”

...

First of all, WOW, what a can of worms to get into that he thought of Holdo and Poe’s interactions as flirting. Secondly, we’re talking about a character who is in a military combat situation, immediately after a military evacuation, and she’s walking around in what looks like a cocktail dress. Dressed to dine with senators in the midst of an existential crisis. THAT tells you a lot about the priorities that went into these decision.

Like this is also my biggest complaint with Leia’s costuming in TLJ, that she’s wearing these same senatorial-style robes, cut in a similar design as her attire in ANH - where Leia was explicitly using a diplomatic mission as a cover for her holding the Death Star plans. In every other military situation - the assault and evacuation of Echo Base, the planning of the raid of Endor, effectively every scene on Endor that calls for combat instead of opening communication with the Ewoks, even last movie as they’re planning to fight the First Order, Leia is in military gear, a uniform. This is a woman who gets in the trenches with her men and wears practical get up for fighting.

Yet TLJ puts her in robes and a secure command bunker on her ship as blasters are firing and the men and women under her command are fighting. And this is obviously not a character thing, because she was doing the same as her people last movie, which, again, was only days prior.

And, you know, let’s go ahead and talk about the “Holdo flirting with Poe” thing, at least briefly. She is his superior officer, whatever way you come down on the righteousness of either of their actions. And, again, mid-crisis. This isn’t the time ANYONE should be bothering with flirting. To say nothing of the deeply creepy fetishizing that this turns that unconscious caress into (if that wasn’t subtextually there to begin with), where this white woman is fondling an unconscious Latino man. This also undermines her as a character, if she was doing all of this as flirtation - again, priorities, lady.

Poe handles the issue with Holdo with a lot of restraint - he talks to her about her decisions in a private setting, gets shut down. He makes a scene on the bridge, explicitly saying “I don’t care if I’m not in the loop, just tell me there IS a plan!” and gets nothing again. He pulls a blaster on Holdo, in the name of acting to defend the Resistance from someone who, from all appearances, is making no effort to protect and preserve the lives under her command as the ticking clock nears zero, and STILL asks if she has any defense for her seeming lack of decisions, and she STILL says nothing.

And Poe isn’t acting alone. He has Connix, Billie Lourd’s character, on his side, acting in concert with him. And she was seen at the start actively commanding the evacuation of D’Qar, which is not a task for a junior officer. So this says that SHE was locked out of the loop as well.

And, going back to the “volunteer militia” thing again, that’s another major issue here. Because these are characters and people actively concerned about their continued survival, and the woman who drove them to be there in the first place is out of commission. Yeah, there’s the concern about desertions at this point, which conceptually lead to either defections or capture and interrogation, but this is not explicit in the movie’s text.

So she’s locking out a volunteer militia about the decisions being made in regards to their survival, to the point that she is not even telling them there is a plan, not just on a supposed hot-headed pilot (who, honestly, should have been on standby for psychiatric reasons, considering the torture he went through and PTSD he’s probably carrying from the multiple back-to-back near death experiences, all of which TLJ is completely dismissive of, as if it never even happened), but even other high ranking members, all of this as their fuel runs out and they’re desperate to survive, to the point that Poe feels he has to remove her from command because there is no indication that there is anything being done to save the lives under her command.

So, why am I supposed to view him as a hot-headed maverick instead of the voice of reason and sanity as all indications are that she’s leading the Resistance into a nosedive, exactly?

#dg gets pissed #the last jedi critical #holdo critical #long post

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veridium · 5 years

Text

heartbreak warfare

WELCOME TO MORE QUEER PAIN

Hope ya’ll are ready for some shit. Because I brought the shit. Heaping dose, because I have had a wonderful day and feel all mushy. Enjoy!

part one // last episode

-- The man was a no-good blond bastard with too much wool in his wardrobe and clumsy taste in flowers. White carnations represent pure love, and he had the audacity to come around with a fist of them. He should have crawled up the stairs on his knees if he wanted to present pure love. Yelling at him made Olivia feel close to the goddess Medusa in levels of vindicated fury, though she was inconvenienced by the lack of hair snakes.

Despite her almighty and supernatural ire, Ellinor granting him entry is something she disagrees with but ultimately respects: her best friend is tired, and deserves to feel loved, and maybe the one silver lining is that there isn’t much else Cullen Rutherfudger can mess up more. Maybe if they get it together she won’t have to peel her up off the floor next weekend. Damn, had their standards for a good Saturday crashed down below sea level.

But, she will be keeping a close eye on him. A very close, and scathing, eye. To be fair, the man shows up and tows the line when he has fucked up; which is more than she can say for who she once thought of as a potential suitor as Sunday passes with no word. Potential suitor. Ugh, that kind of working only happens when you’ve paid attention to someone who’s a rhetorical romantic. Too much attention.

Monday comes, and is mundane. She keeps a low profile, and attends classes with little fuss; her Professor asks how she is doing because of her silence in class discussion, and she gives an excuse about getting over a head cold. Yeah, right. Besides lecture and a short shift at the gym, she goes back home to continue being reclusive. She does not cross paths with Ellinor much, though she fields the almost hourly texts asking her how she is, where she is, and if she needs anything. Ellinor is doing that innocent thing all friends do when they find themselves luckier in personal exploits than their loved ones: sympathy that is all-too-easily swallowed as pity when you’ve been kicked down one-too-many times.

Tuesday also comes and goes. Classes and a midterm exam, one she completes with confidence; cold war history is interesting enough. It helped that she had someone, for a brief time, to rant about it and dissect things. During the free response portion she uses a word Cassandra did during one of their debates: “pejorative.” How the hell she knew that word was whatever.

Then, Wednesday. Even though it’s only been a few days, when she wakes up to Ellinor’s voice it feels like it’s been a century since the last time she’s heard it.

“Liv, release the hostage oreos.” Oh, great. Long time no see, and she’s come into her room just to attack her for her life choices.

Olivia growls and hides away, bastard red velvet oreos in her clutches. “Bite me.”

“Liv. Come on,” Ellinor’s standing by her bed, hands on her hips like a fed up soccer mom trying to get her kid up for school. “You haven’t been responding to my texts and you don’t answer the door. I worried you ate yourself into a coma. I keep hearing the Scientist on repeat through your door. I think I can play the piano part off of just memory alone.”

“Good, maybe Cullen would enjoy another concert.”

“Olivia!”

She gives in and rolls over, tossing the oreos to her without looking. “Fine! Have at ‘em.” Ellinor misses and they fall onto the floor with a sharp, plastic crack. The worst part though is the thought that comes immediately after they crash: Cassandra would have caught it.

She groans again and tosses her comforter over her head. “What time is it? My alarm hasn’t gone off.”

“I caught it as it went off, bitch,” Ellinor grumbles. The sound of her picking up the oreos and tossing them to the table. She cares. I shouldn’t be so mean. She cares.

“Oh. Hm.”

“Seriously, are you alright? You haven’t dropped off the radar with me since that time you shaved half your eyebrows off at the Homecoming after party, remember?”

Oh, Jesus. How could she forget. “Mm. I’m fine. I’ve just been swamped with homework.”

“You? Olivia Sinclair, swamped by homework?” Ellinor’s voice veers farther away, towards the door. “Shit, the rapture must be upon us.”

“Give me a break, please. What are you doing up so early anyway? You don’t have class until…” that was a silly question. There could only be one reason she would be up and about like this. A week ago, it would have been the promise of coffee by Olivia. Now, it’s the promise of someone else’s coffee. Blond roast. Bleh.

“...Uh,” Ellinor chuckles nervously, “Nothing. I’m just hanging out. If you’d rather be left alone, I can go back to--”

“Don’t lay an egg, Ellinor.” Olivia gripes, stretching her toes. “You can say you’re up for him. I’m not a widow. Have fun, whatever it is you heteros do at the crack of dawn besides milking cows and...I don’t know, watching TLC or something.”

Silence. Ellinor sighs, and opens the door. “Okay, Olivia.” Dammit, she feels bad. Ellinor shouldn’t be feeling bad. She deserves to be happy, and she deserves a best friend who would support her being happy. Olivia flips over to lay face down and continue loathing herself. Every bone in her body wants to snarl and hide from everything good and cheery. Soon, Cassandra won’t be the only one steering clear of her, if she keeps this up.

Just outside her shut door, she hears a deeper voice. A deeper, calmer voice. Then Ellinor’s more opinionated tone. She says something bossy -- sounding like ‘I’m gonna kill your roommate for this, I hope you know.’ A sigh immediately responds. Typical. Cullen better have prepared himself to be with a woman who didn’t pull any punches, who could fight her own fights...and sometimes, fights that belong to her friends who have grown too tired of it all.

All she can do is wonder what it’ll take to feel okay again. It is one thing to say you’re hard to love, and make people miserable. It’s another to have someone confirm it so unapologetically.

Wednesday is as repetitive in the first half as Monday was: the same lectures, and then eventually a couple hours in the TA office waiting for nothing and no one to show up for assistance while she grades Blackboard responses to the week’s study question.

She’s in the thick of it when an email notification pops up on her laptop. Her women’s history 305 Professor, saying they’re switching texts for next week’s discussions. They’re going to study Heloise, a 11th century French nun and scholar. Great, fantastic, except none of their texts are about her. The Professor kindly asks they search for the suggested reading online or in the library. Olivia would be completely okay with digging up the text online if her laptop hadn’t just been salvaged from a virus stemming for the last time she did so.

Besides, the library was a reliable source. Why not do something she’s good at, and dig?

With a half hour left in her office hours she takes the liberty to stroll down to the main campus library. The book in particular is old so it should be in the stocks. When she goes to a computer and checks the catalog, she finds one copy is still available; her class’s rush to obtain it free hasn’t nosed her out completely just yet.

The Dewey decimal number takes her to a shelf on the fourth floor, but after 20 minutes of searching she uncovers nothing. No book, no Heloise. Defeated, she stands alone in the aisle and looks around one last time. It should be here, there’s no reason it shouldn’t. It said so in the database.

Climbing down to the main floor, she takes the issue up with the work study student manning the checkout desk.

“I’m sorry,” she says after looking it up on her own computer, “it’s been incorrectly logged. It happens.”

“What? What does that mean?”

“We have a couple satellite locations in town where our reserves are loaned long-term; sometimes their books are kept under our organized log when it’s with them.”

“So...so it is here. In town, right?”

“Oh, yeah, it should be. It’s just at one of our outsourced places.”

She asks if she can check them out still, and to her relief, the answer is yes. The kind woman writes down the address and name of the place for her, so that she can find it for herself once and for all. Handing it to her with a nice-enough smile, she sees her off.

Olivia makes it through the metal detectors before checking the piece of paper with pencil writing.

‘203 Northeast Lillian Way.’ Why is that so familiar? Shit. No, no, no, no. She rips her phone out and starts scrolling feverishly with her thumb through the old and taboo messages between her and she-who-still-shall-not-be-named. Lo and behold, it’s the worst possible outcome: the Church library. Of course, they would demand premium on books about a French Nun. How poetic.

She stands outside the library for a few minutes and deliberates her choices. With any luck, Cassandra is elsewhere -- it’s mid-afternoon, she probably has practice, or volunteer hours, or class. She tries, but she can’t remember for sure what her Tues/Thurs routine is. It’s been that long, or it’s been that hard to have her in her life. Regardless, she needs the book, and if she can get a hold of it she can make a photocopy and give it back with no harm done. It takes her a while, but she convinces herself to make a break for it: pulling out her keys from her bag and heading straight for the blue parking lot where her trusty car is awaiting.

All the same, she can’t help but curse her luck.

The drive to the Church would make her emotional if she had any emotions left to give. Days of alternating between crying, eating junk food, denial, and good ol’-fashioned anger have jaded her. At this point, she would dare the fates that be to make her days. The point between her pulling into the parking lot, turning her car off, and walking inside is all a surreal blur. Once she would have rather walked on a chain-link fence edge barefoot than set foot in a House of God, and now it’s twice in one month’s time.

Walking down the center aisle of the hall isn’t the same without Cassandra there to burst open a door on the other side. The stained glass isn’t as colorful, and the bread bowls aren’t as interesting. Still, thankfully, she finds herself left alone like before: no one to pretend they care about her soul, or ask if she’s been saved. The whole place feels like a ghost town, actually -- an odd thing for 4:30 in the afternoon on a weekday. But who is she to judge? The Pope?

A right, then a left, then up stairs. She logs it all in her head. There’s so much more room in the hallway with just her. Too much room. Eventually, she finds the double-doors. One cocked open, with a wooden stopper wedged underneath it. She hesitates to show herself: she’s not as modest as she was when she first came around, black high-waisted shorts with tights on under, with a black short-sleeve v-neck tucked in. Heels, because, of course -- and they clank on the wood floor.

But she does go in. Brave enough, finally, after a couple breaths: and she’s vindicated for doing so. No one’s in. No school kids hiding out, no Missionary interns studying away. No Cassandra, either, skulking or pacing with a book in her hands contemplating the secrets of the universe. Fabulous, she can pull out the paper in her pocket with the decimal system number, find the damn book, and be out like a thief in the night. The mischievous fates have been thwarted, so it seems. If she ignores the sinking feeling in her stomach and feet, being back where Cassandra first surprised, she can be on with her day.

Coming towards the standalone shelves rowed together, she studies the note she made for herself. The first shelf is way too early in the alphabet, so she comes around to the middle and peeks down the first section. Nothing and no one, and still in the C’s-E’s. She needs J.

Then, the sound of paper rubbing against itself. Like a page being turned. She freezes, takes a breath, and approaches the corner of the second aisle.

God, please, no, anyone but--but it’s her.

Her shoes are hitting the ground too hard for her presence to be a secret, and she knows well enough. She stops, and a heel grades against the wood grain. Cassandra -- dressed in black leggings and a sweatshirt, over-sized, and the most casual she’s ever seen her styled -- is sitting cross-legged on the floor. Up against the stacks, with several books piled around her. One open in her hands, kept in her lap. At the noise of Olivia’s footfalls she looks up. Not expecting her, clearly, her eyes go wide and she jerks up to her feet in the blink of an eye. Agile enough to do so without stumbling all over herself, but not confident enough to stand all tall and proud. Not like she did in the gallery.

Olivia steps back, and she can feel her face sour. She crinkles the paper in her hand, and it bends beneath a fist. She doesn’t respond, only glares with steeled hopelessness.

Cassandra closes the book in her hands. “W-what are you doing here?”

“I came for a book.” Iced, and disdainful.

Her face strains a bit, and she adjusts. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” she rolls her bottom lip and holds her ground. “That is all.” It’s crushing her slowly, the priorities: yell at her, say sorry again, cry, beg. Too many needs and too many wants. She takes a page out of Cassandra’s metaphorical book and holds it all in under a guise of self-sufficient introversion.

“I...okay. D-do you need--”

“No. I know how to work a library.”

“...Alright.” She accepts it, and nods. Olivia sucks on her teeth. They both try to get on with whatever it is they were up to before they were aware of each other’s presence: Cassandra, sitting back down on the ground, and Olivia investigating the far end of the shelf. She tracks down the J’s, but there’s no book in sight. Again. First, twice, and thrice she checks the row where it should be. A couple minutes have passed, and she’s left standing there with no reward to her risk.

She lets out a sigh through puckered lips.

“What are you looking for?” Cassandra’s voice, clear and calm.

She keeps her eyes on the shelf, clinging to the paper. “I don’t need your help.”

“Um…” she treads lightly, very lightly, “some of the shelves are disorganized, because of the students.”

Fan-fucking-tastic. She’ll never find this damn book, she’ll never do her homework, she’ll just drop out and call it good.

“I’m…” she starts, but stops when Cassandra suddenly shows up next to her, having risen to her feet without so much as a sound. She takes hold of the paper that is in a death grip in Olivia’s hands, one which she releases against her better judgement.

She raises a brow. “Hm.”

“It’s--it’s a book with copies of letters from--”

“Heloise and Abelard. I know this anthology, I had it for...um, hm. You won’t find it here, though.”

Olivia slouches, and frustration escapes her. “What? Again?!”

“No,” Cassandra shakes her head, and then turns around, “it’s over here.” Without a word, she walks away, with the presumption that Olivia will come along. An audacious presumption; if she had not come all the way across town to track down the damn thing she would have laughed and said ‘fat chance.’ Beggars can’t be choosers.

They go to the back corner, where there are rows of tall volume books that look like dictionaries. The shelf above them is where Cassandra slants onto her toes and searches. Olivia does her best to keep her eyes preoccupied elsewhere -- anywhere else, but her -- and waits patiently. Finally she falls back, pulling a book out that’s rather small and thin. But it’s weirdly pink, like the catalog image.

“Here,” she breaths, pivoting back to her and holding it out.

Olivia stares at the outstretched book, brow pressing low as she bites back more bitterness on her mind. She takes it, gripping onto the opposite diagonal corner to Cassandra’s grip.

“T-Thanks.” She spits out, holding it to her stomach. “Do you know if I have to….to do anything special to check it out from here? Or do I just take it to the main library?”

“You just take it there…” Cassandra confirms, reaching across her own stomach and clasping onto her elbow.

“Okay.” Olivia keeps her eyes to the ground, and her responses curt. “Thanks again. I’ll be going now.”

“Olivia, I’m sorry.” The words cut through the air like a chef’s knife. Eager, and quick, like it’s the last word she’ll ever get in edgewise. Olivia has turned to the side by the time she hears it, and she stops cold. The book to her belly now feels like armor she can’t live without. She can’t bare to look at her, at whatever face she’s making. It’ll be too sincere, too heartfelt.

“I really don’t want to hear it.”

“I know you don’t, but you deserve to.”

“You thought I deserved to hear a great deal of things.”

“I...I know. And…”

“What?”

“And it was unfair of me. I shouldn’t have cornered you, when you were already feeling uncomfortable. It wasn’t right.”

Olivia sucks in her gut; the words she is saying are too poignant to face with a chin tucked in shame. She looks, only to feel punished for it: Cassandra is frowning, and not the way she does by default. It is a sad one. It makes Olivia’s heart skip, and plummet at the same time.

“Y-you know, Cassandra,” she replies, her voice brittle as her throat gets thicker with tears she thought she had long run out of, “I...I just wish I knew what your secret was.”

Cassandra blinks a few times, beautiful black eyelashes fluttering. “My secret?”

“Yeah. Your secret. The one behind how you always look so undaunted and...and un-phased,” she closes her eyes to hold back tears, and cradles the book in both hands against her. “You know, Cullen talks to Ellinor, and Ellinor talks to me. I hear about how you are minding your own business, going about your day, while I cry myself to sleep or eat my body weight in Taco Bell. Every time. It hurts, but I tell myself, ‘oh, she’s just coping in her own way, she has to be as messed up as I am about this, just as torn up, just as…” she takes a shallow breath, but it does little to assuage her. “‘She has to be just as inexplicably messed up as I am.’ But even when I worried you didn’t care, or that you were indifferent, never did I think you would walk into the room and rip my heart out the way you did.”

Cassandra had become more and more engrossed in a painful kind of way, the more she talked. It wasn’t hard to understand -- it was probably the most brutally candid Olivia had ever been in her presence. Bearing her most cringe-worthy sides of her survival, for reasons she could not articulate half as well.

“So…” she sharply sniffled, “I just want to know what the secret is. What you do, what you...you tell yourself, that makes you so magically put-together. Maybe it’s the same shit you take that convinces you that I’m the one tormenting you when I…” she closes her eyes again, but a stray, small tear runs down the outside corner of her eye. That is enough for her. “You know, whatever. I’m...I’m not gonna…” she started to walk back, verbally and physically, expecting nothing else but her own shame.

A few steps, and then, the second twist of the knife.

“Liv, please.” Once again, she asks, and once again, Olivia stops. This time, her back is to her.

“I…” Cassandra takes a moment, collecting her breath by the sounds of it. “Cullen knows me, but he doesn’t know...me. He sees me coming and going, but he doesn’t know what happens while I’m getting by. If he did, he’d tell Ellinor--or, probably you, more like--that from the moment you first spoke to me I haven’t been able to get your voice out of my head. I’ve never been good with sentimentality, much as I appreciate it. But when I’m...when I’m around you it feels like I don’t have to worry. If anything’s been a secret, it’s been that.”

The sensation of hugging her in this room is still fresh. The way her arms wrapped around her waist, the way her breath felt against her neck. The briefness of it, and wishing it could last. But nothing lasts. Head high as much as she could pretend, she swallows stiff and keeps her eyes on the door for just a beat longer. Then, she faces her again. And Cassandra, she...her red eyes, her slightly red, tired eyes. It’s horrible.

“If you were so crazy about me, then why didn’t you kiss me? I was all yours, I was--”

“Because I didn’t want it to be like that.”

“...You…”

Cassandra sighs tersely, rubbing the side of her face. Exasperated. “I didn’t want the first time I ever kissed you to be during a fight about you being slut-shamed and me invading your privacy, alright? Is that...is that so much to ask? That if I was going to...to let myself be with a woman, a woman like you, that that kind of thing would be a little more special?!”

“I would have agreed, if you would have just talked to me! About anything!” Olivia shifted, now head-on with her. “You said you knew what you wanted, Cassandra, but that’s just it. You knew. I may have had my hopes and...and you may have been right about me having more of a clue than I admitted, but a clue is not consent. It isn’t a consensus. When you rejected me, I felt like an ass! Like I had taken advantage of you in some way.”

“Something you would have known wasn’t the case if you would have just stayed and listened to me! I was trying to tell you!”

“Trying?!”

“Yes! Or have you forgotten how hard it was to say out loud to the first girl you ever liked that you had feelings for her, and you were terrified she’d walk out?!”

“I did--!” She begins to hiss back, but stops. Forgiveness was an easier visitor when it came to certain suffering. She couldn’t swing the gavel when it came to that: it was like breaking ten different rules of queer code. Ugh, dammit. “Intimidated or not, we’re adults. This isn’t a recess, or homeroom, it’s...it’s life. I don’t get it, you’re always so...just...mature, with everything else but this.”

Cassandra half-nodded, and folded her arms. “The heart of man is a labyrinth, whose windings are very difficult to be discovered.”

Olivia delayed her retort, a bit off-guard. “...Um...yeah, that is...one way of putting it.”

Cassandra’s sweetly sore, peering down at the ground. “It’s an excerpt, from one of Heloise’s letters to Abelard. It’s...it’s after one where he implores her to revoke their union for the sake of God, but she refuses.”

Who even is this woman? Some thesaurus of mankind’s broken desires, reincarnated into one toned, statuesque, androgynous body? Is she even real?

“Yeah, well...Abelard was an elitist asshole who wasn’t worth it. And you’re still pompous, I take it.”

She smirks again, but not as sadly, as her eyes meet hers again. “Maybe so, on both counts. However, he still encouraged her in her work, and her learning.”

“Yes, as a means to punish her for behavior he deemed carnal even though he was a complicit beneficiary of if, not to mention--”

“Behavior he was punished for as well, rather grotesquely, if I can recall.”

Olivia’s hold on the book loosens, and she looks down at it, before back at her. “He...yeah. I mean, it was just a little...castration. It be like that sometimes.” They stare once again, and she clamps down on her tongue. They’re both fighting back something, some kind of expression, though Olivia denies the hope that Cassandra wishes to smile as she does. That is, until they both cough up a chuckle. The first in a long time; she can hardly remember the last occasion. That hurts.

After a moment, she gathers her wits. She slides the book into her shoulder back, and gets back to the unsavory topic.

“We’ve made a mess, haven’t we.” She can’t help but smile. Cassandra could run her heart through the mud and gravel, and then say something clever, and that’d be all it takes. She’d smile.

“I’m afraid so. They must think we’re devising to kill each other,” Cassandra says, coming forward. There’s no need of explanation as to who she’s referring to. In a flash, images of a very worried Ellinor and slightly scared Cullen come to mind.

“You would deserve it.”

A wry smirk. “Oh, would I?”

“Yes, you were a dick.”

“And you were an insensitive snob.”

Olivia chokes back another laugh. “Compared to the company you keep, Cassandra, I’m a down-home piece of apple pie.”

Cassandra scoffs. “Leliana? Ugh, God,” she grins, “she only pulls that act when she’s trying to pull something. She was being an ass, but, she was just...trying to protect me. I’m sure she’ll appear out of nowhere and explain herself, so, be prepared.”

“Oh, wonderful, I crave her company,” she mocks, eyes rolling gently as she looks back towards the door. “Why doesn’t she just show up now? I’m eager for more mortifying company.”

“She knew I wanted to be left alone. She does listen, you know.”

“...Oh. Well, damn.” That was a nice thing. Boundaries, huh, who knew. She can sympathize -- Olivia also has a friend who left her alone after one too many acidic quips. Oh, Ellinor. Though she wants to, she can’t crucify the woman for wanting to put up a fight for her friend. “Look, I know it makes me an asshole every time, but, I really should be going this time around. I have things to do tonight, and I really just needed to get this….this book.” She says it, but she hates it.

She hates it even more when Cassandra frowns, and blinks her eyes away. “I understand, no, it’s alright. You can’t just stay in every room I find you in.”

“No, I can’t, hah.” But I wish I could.

“Hey, Olivia?” she says one last time. Her full name. It’s nice, without all the malice.

“Yeah?”

Her eyes brighten a little. Bravery. “I...I hope that you’ll be happy. Whatever that means for you. You deserve it.”

It’s a stab to the side, clean and direct through her ribs and into her gut. Her voice saying ‘I think you knew what I wanted,’ rings loud and clear in her mind again. Wanted. Not want, wanted. And now this. Oh no, Cassandra, please, please don’t tell me you’ve really let go.

“...Thank you, Cassandra. I...I wish the same for you.” I wish it, and I wish it’d happen with me. Be with me. Ask me to stay. This time I’ll stay, I promise. Just ask it.

“Thanks. Um, drive safe, okay?” More of those polite, detached manners. Again. No, no, no.

“Yeah, um,” Olivia swallows, “I will. See you around, maybe?”

“Yeah. I think so.” A smile. She’s smiling. Oh God, she really has accepted it. That they aren’t meant for each other. Like Heloise and Abelard: Olivia as Heloise, ranting and raving in her letters about having been consumed by amorous affection. And then there’s Abelard, pointing her away towards higher callings, wishing her the best. Fuck Abelard, and fuck this.

Olivia tries her hardest to hide it, and she manages a wide grin and wave before leaving. She makes it out the hallway, down the side aisle of the Church pews, out the door, and into her car.

Slamming the car door behind her, she sinks into her compact leather seat and bangs her head against the headrest. Cassandra is letting her go. She did at the gallery, technically, but now it hurts in a different way. A way she feels no enraged pride in, no vanity. No need for spiteful indifference. She wants to take it all back, this time.

The one thing she couldn’t say, and perhaps will always regret, is that Cassandra was right. She is right. And now, she’s giving Olivia what she wants, what she clamors for, all the time. She’s giving it rather than trying to change her. So this is what respect feels like from someone who wants to love you.

The book stays in her lap as she drives home. When she stops at every red light, she clutches where Cassandra held it. If it were all a movie, this would be where she’d drive off into the sunset after her coming-of-age tale, leaving the reckless love behind. But she wants to do anything but that.

How long will it be until she finally stops? The answer is now.

She brakes hard and pulls into a street parking spot -- one of the luckiest moments of her life. Digging in her bag on the passenger’s seat, she finds her phone. Thumbing and thumbing, until she finds her name and the message thread she could never make herself delete.

--You know what’d make me happy? Because I have a couple ideas on the subject. The first is Friday night, at 11. Stay awake, or miss out.

#college au update #adventures of ellinor and olivia #modern!Olivia #ellinor trevelyan #day & age #WOOO AN UPDATE

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neraawritesxx · 7 years

Text

Say I Do

anime: Inuyasha pairing: Sesshomaru x Kagome genre: Drama/Romance words: ~7,700 status: Ongoing

summary: [au] ‘I vow to you today and a thousand times over that I will never let you leave my side.’ The man to whom she was vowing eternal love was supposed to be her fiance, not her brother-in-law.

a/n: So this is my first real attempt at writing fanfiction, especially positing it to tumblr. I figured what better way to break myself in then by writing a story with my first every OTP. Please let me know what you think!

this work could also be found on ff.net and ao3

next chapter

Never in her life had Kagome Higurashi ever felt so empty; so��utterly alone.

Unease bubbled within her flip-flopping stomach, spreading a wave nausea throughout her petite form. Her porcelain skin was flushed, yet clammy; crystalline hues seeing nothing but red. Hushed whispers were shared behind her; the thrum of quiet chitchat bounced off the mosaic-covered walls. It was not hard to distinguish that she was the sole topic of discussion within the room.

The heat of their stares bore down on her back, and it was enough to make her want to squirm. She shifted slightly, her movement slow. The desire to wrap her arms around herself and shy away from the crowd was strong, though the mass of silk and lace she was dressed in restricted her movements. It was suffocating, constricting; she couldn't breathe. Her throat was dry, an uncomfortable lump forming, adding to her distress. The more she swallowed in an attempt to quell the feeling, the more prominent it became.

The stems of the lilies within her bouquet gave an audible cry under her vice-like grip, drawing her attention. Glancing downward, Kagome scrunched her nose and glared at the white flowers as if they were the sole cause of the pure embarrassment that was threatening to drown her.

She blamed herself for letting it get this far.

Kagome knew that this entire situation was not going to benefit any of the parties involved without some sacrifice. She was living in a dream world thinking that something like this would not be met with some type of resistance.

This was supposed to be a happy day, one where nothing could go wrong.

This was a day that most girls dreamed of from a young age.

This was supposed to be a celebration, one of happiness and life…of love.

But, here she stood, on her wedding day, groom-less.

Kagome rationalized that she should be more upset than she currently was. Most women at this point would have broken down and called everything off. She didn't feel the pinpricks of oncoming tears forming in her eyes; there was no wave of sadness crashing down on her. There was a myriad of emotions swirling around her, but despair was not one of them. No, she mostly felt empty and alone, a numbness pulsing through her with every breath she took. Embarrassment held her in a vice, whispering within that she should just run away. It was duty and stubbornness that kept her rooted to the spot she maintained at the altar.

She was not surprised that it came to this point. All stories like this came bubbling to a climax. Though, she sorely wished her situation was not one that would leave her in this utterly insignificant position. Nothing seemed to work out the way that she wanted it to within this relationship. The whole thing was a cruel twist of fate.

It was a political marriage; arranged.

An alliance of…sorts.

-o-

Kagome's father always had a knack for technology, ever since he and her mother had met back in high school. Her mother would tell Kagome stories of her father when he was a teen, about how he would lock himself away in his garage and invent little knick-knacks to impress her. He was always curious about things; he wanted to know what made them tick.

What gave them drive.

Over the years that curiosity developed to the point where he created his own firm. It was modest at first, a small technology company that would produce software for computers, but over time it grew within power. This was the modern era. Everything was run on some sort of software. There were plenty of other technology companies that competed with her father's, but there was only one that he ever deemed a rival: Taisho Inc.

Touga Taisho was an esteemed businessman, ruthless in his field. He ran his company with the utmost care; every product produced was carefully planned, every business deal was a strategic power-play. He conducted himself in the same manner and grace throughout his everyday life. There were no friendships, no bonds, no social gatherings he would attend that would not benefit his company. It was his lifeline; the fruit of his labor and he would not see its downfall. It was no surprise that Taisho Inc. was becoming world-renowned.

Kagome's father has crossed Touga's path early on at a business expo while showing off one of the new microchips that Higurashi Tech. put together. It immediately caught Touga's attention, who wished to directly buy it outright, including the patent to call it his own. Her father vehemently refused, much to Touga's frustration.

Thus, a rivalry was born.

It was never hostile or derogatory. There was no slander or dragging through the mud. The only thing these men attempted to do was one-up each other. They liked to push each other, gauge the reaction and see what the other would do next. It was a simple game among men; to see who would come out on top. Kagome assumed her father caught Touga's interest because he was the first person to deny him what he wanted. In a world where you were always in charge, who would stand up and tell you no?

It carried on for years, the push and pull. One man outdoing the other. Benefit galas were never dull when those two men were in attendance. The casual jibes and mocking undertones were always a source of amusement. The words they spoke were never hurtful; uncivil and full of dry humor, yes, but they were words of two men who grew to respect one another highly.

It was at one of those galas that she met him, the man that was to be her future husband.

Kagome was not prone to such events. She was seventeen at the time, young, and somewhat clueless. Pair a long dress with her naturally clumsy demeanor, and there was bound to be an issue. That instance presented itself when she was trying to descend the staircase into the main ballroom. Kagome had been running late to the festivities, rushing through the doors and down the stairs without any caution. Her high heel tangled in the trail of her gown, the movement of her body already propelling her forward. Before she could make a complete embarrassment out of herself, she was caught and pulled back against a robust and broad frame.

Turning to thank her savior, words died on her tongue. Kagome was caught within the piercing gaze of the most unique pair of golden eyes she had ever seen. He couldn't have been much older than her, maybe by a year or two. His cropped white hair was worn messily, not gelled back like the other men in attendance. Blue locked with amber, and for a moment—a bated breath – Kagome was spellbound.

Then he went and opened his mouth.

He had mocked her for her lack of ability to walk like a 'normal person,' questioned her on if she was 'all there in the head,' and then he proceeded to call her 'wench.'

Her hackles rose, left eye twitched in utter annoyance, and like a snake coiling to strike at its prey, Kagome lashed out. An all-out verbal spar had ensued. Back and forth, a battle of mockery and insults was fought. He seemed to be the clear victor with a well-placed dig about her lack of feminine figure. Kagome politely replied with a neat kick to his shin before she stomped off.

It was later in the evening that her father introduced her to his 'esteemed rival' along with said rival's family. Her first impression of Touga was that of intimidation; he was a loud and proud man. Everything about him seemed to emanate power. It was his eyes, however, that gave Kagome a different view. There was a softness; a warmth there that she couldn't quite place. It offset the towering persona that he affronted. The fire within those golden depths smothered into an inferno of tawny when he looked down at the woman next to him and introduced her as his wife.

Izayoi Taisho was even more elegant than the magazines pictured her as. With soft brown eyes and waist length ebony hair, she held herself with the sophistication and grace of royalty. Kagome mused that she technically was royalty with a husband like Touga. It was only after the introduction was made that Kagome realized it was love which was the cause for the softness around the edges of the businessman's eyes. She remembered vaguely wondering, in that moment, if someone would look at her like that one day.

The next to be introduced was his youngest son, who she immediately recognized as her would-be savior from the staircase. His name was Inuyasha Taisho.

Glares were shared, insults were passed off, and continued disagreements were huffed – much to the bemusement of both sets of parents.

It carried on for years like that. Whatever events that they attended, no matter how much they tried to avoid one another, Inuyasha and Kagome always got into some argument. It didn't matter the topic; it could have been the weather, they just didn't agree. She didn't quite grasp why he was so brash. Why did everything out of his mouth have to be a crude insult? It was like he had a hardened shell around him.

He didn't want to let anyone in and lashing out was his only defense.

When Inuyasha became the topic of debate amongst Touga, her father, and a few of Taisho's business associates at a financial gala she was attending, Kagome finally understood. Touga was explaining the idea of dividing his company amongst his two sons when he was ready to step down. The notion of his oldest being in charge was something that the group approved. However, the concept of Inuyasha running anything related to Touga's company was rebuffed, scoffed at, and utterly frowned upon.

Kagome remembered the confused look that crossed her father's face. She also recalled the burning anger that turned Touga's gaze into flat golden stone. The group of Taisho's business associates were overlooking Inuyasha's skill with finances and disregarded his understanding of the market. In turn, they decided to make it a point to discuss his apparent lack of decorum. Looking back on it now, she was positive one of the men even went as far as to call him a disgrace to the Taisho name.

Kagome didn't know what prompted her to do it.

Maybe it was Touga's tense posture, one that was ready to battle anyone who disrespected his son.

Maybe it was the look of sadness that flashed within Izayoi's eyes.

Maybe it was the utter heartbreak that seemed to roll off of Inuyasha as he caught the tail end of the conversation. He didn't look surprised; it was like he had heard those insults before.

He looked beaten; broken.

All it took was one look - blue locked with gold.

Kagome moved on her own then, pushing into the fray of bodies. Hellfire burned into her cerulean depths as she stomped up to the nearest man, hands clenched into fists at her sides.

Kagome couldn't for the life of her remember what exactly she said as she ranted and raved to the group of elders. All she could recall from the confrontation was that Higurashi Tech, under her guidance, would never do business with the likes of close-minded, arrogant, and stuffy individuals who had their heads so far up their asses that they couldn't ascertain a decent business deal even if it were waved right under their noses.

She was cut off, mid-tirade, by Inuyasha, who promptly clamped a hand over her mouth and bodily restrained her, all while dragging her out of the building.

Kagome turned her raging emotions on him once they were outside. He remained silent, while she carried on, pacing back and forth on the sidewalk. She was shrieking and shouting about where they got the right to judge anyone. He patiently waited for her to stop, for all the anger to seep out of her as she continued to holler about the inequality of things. When Kagome finally deflated was when she got a good look at him. He looked remorseful, sad, and bashful all rolled into one.

The emotions swam within his gaze, ever-shifting, and suddenly they morphed into something she couldn't ascertain.

He then proceeded to do something that Kagome never thought he would do; he thanked her.

Inuyasha Taisho thanked her.

She never understood that look, the one that he gave her that night.

Looking back on it now, Kagome didn't think that she ever saw that wayward emotion trickle into Inuyasha's gaze again - at least not around her.

That was the beginning of their odd friendship. Much like their father's relationship, Kagome and Inuyasha were rivals with a twist. Attempting to one-up each other whenever they got the chance. Over the next couple of years, it budded into genuine friendship. Kagome was a woman entering a male-dominated corporate world. Inuyasha was the frowned upon heir to an empire. She was his rock, and he was hers. They were the only ones who truly understood each other – what it was like to be an outsider.

If she had to guess, their friendship was the basis for the idea that their fathers came up with. Watching their children grow into the young adults that would take over their companies one day. What better way to secure their future than a marriage? A marriage that would not only unite their children but their corporations as well. It would push them to the top of the technological hierarchy, securing the power for the new generation for when they took over.

-o-

A cough from behind broke Kagome from her thoughts. Perspiration was beginning to bead under the snowy veil upon her brow, and she fought an urge to swipe it away. Looking up, she caught a glimpse of Miroku Hoshi, clad in his cream and maroon ceremonial robes. The soft baritone of his voice was reciting a passage from a scripture within the golden bible he held. The young woman was thankful she was standing so close to him, he was drowning out of the whispers coming from behind her. Miroku looked up then, feeling her gaze on him. They stared at each other for a moment, his violet eyes filled with nothing but warmth.

Kagome had been introduced to Miroku through Inuyasha about a year ago. He was a personal lawyer that worked with Taisho Inc. He had a reputation of being particularly witty in the courtroom, always cracking jokes at inappropriate times. That, however, didn't stop him from outmatching many when it came to a battle of legal loopholes. Much to the displeasure of his opponents, Miroku had a knack of getting out of any situation that he was presented with. He also proudly maintained a reputation for having wandering hands. Kagome had been on the receiving end of his "caresses" far more than she had liked over the last few months.

Miroku raised his voice by a decibel then, drowning out the background noise even further. Kagome assumed that he could sense her discomfort, though, she was sure she wasn't masking it well. He continued with his hymn, and he offered her a small reassuring smile before passing a quick glance to his right, then back down to his book.

Looking over in the direction Miroku just gazed, Kagome locked eyes with her best friend and maid of honor. Sango Ito was a vision in the soft lilac silk gown that hugged her figure; her chocolate locks tucked into neat bun nestled in the middle of her head. She looked every bit the put-together maid of honor she was supposed to be, calm and collected on the exterior. However, it was the small furrow on her brow, paired with the dark scowl that was marring her angelic features which disclosed that something was wrong. Sango held her bouquet of flowers in a white-knuckled grip, Kagome noted. Pity and anger danced within her auburn gaze. Kagome knew that Sango wanted her to end this sham of a ceremony, that she didn't want Kagome to continue through this embarrassment.

Unable to handle pressure from the emotions within her best friend's gaze, Kagome bowed her head slightly. Half-heartedly, she turned her attention back to Miroku and looked up at him through her lashes.

Kagome knew Inuyasha didn't want to get married.

Hell, she didn't want to marry him either.

When they were presented with the notion of their fathers', the two of them burst out laughing. How could they have been serious? They were friends. Best friends. Comrades within a corporate world that they knew little about. Nothing more, nothing less. They both treated their fathers' antics as a joke. They both knew very well that their parents would never actually force them to get married if they didn't want to.

It was a year ago, on Kagome's twenty-fourth birthday, that she no longer took the idea of their marriage as a joke.

It was raining that day, she remembered. It was an accident, a lock-up of the breaks as he tried to swerve out of the way of an unruly stray dog that ended up in the middle of the street. The paramedics said that he didn't suffer. It was a swift and painless death; he was gone before the car had finished rolling off the road.

A year ago, Kagome Higurashi became the unwilling and unprepared CEO of Higurashi Tech. - in the wake of her father's untimely death.

Her father always told her that a man who lives entirely is not afraid of death. Death is a painful truth. It is what is to come. He stated that death was at the end of a foggy road and we must get through the fog called life to finally see the clearing. Though she knew that he would have been content with the knowledge of the way that he passed, it didn't stop the loneliness that was like an unyielding vice on her heart. It squeezed with just enough pressure to be a constant pain, and it smothered her every day just a little bit more. There was no time to grieve after the funeral. Her world had to keep on turning, no matter how much she wanted it to stop. The inner light that she typically emitted was slowly smoldering down to embers.

Kagome had to keep on reminding herself that there was a company to run. Her father's legacy to uphold.

…and she had no idea even where to begin.

She held no regrets turning to Touga for advice, even though it landed her in this current predicament. He had taken her under his wing for the first few weeks, promising her that he would help her keep her father's vision alive. He taught her what he could from afar; he was still competition after all. It would be of no interest to him to help his business' most prominent rival stay afloat, but Kagome knew he was paying his dues to her father.

It was when things finally started to look brighter, that her world came crumbling down once more.

The board of directors at Higurashi Tech. took into consideration the circumstances to which Kagome had succeeded her father, but that did not change their minds on how they felt the company should be run. They were politely asking her to step down.

Again, she turned to the one man who she thought would have all the answers. Instead, he offered her something that she never assumed he would. Touga gave her only one solution to her troubled situation: merge the companies. With his help, Kagome would remain in charge of the Higurashi Tech. portion of things. She would have free reign to do whatever she wanted with her branch as she saw fit, and in turn, her benefit and continued growth would help his company remain at the top of the technological food chain. The only other stipulation that he required from her, besides the merger, was that she would have to marry Inuyasha.

Kagome wanted to feel swindled. She wanted to feel betrayed and back-stabbed by Touga's offer. He knew that she was in no condition to run the company the way that her board of directors would have wanted. It would only have been a matter of time before they had taken the business from her. This was her father's dream, the only thing that she had left of him. There was absolutely nothing that would keep her from running this company, and Touga knew that. He was backing her into a corner, and there was only one way out - his way. The little voice in the back of her head knew he was right, putting the companies together would only benefit them both. It would keep everything that her father worked his whole life for alive. It was like holding a piece of him, and there was nothing that was going to take this part of him away from her. She would never allow it.

So, she contested the terms.

-o-

It was then that Kagome noticed that her body was trembling slightly. Trying to get her nerves about her, she stilled her quivering muscles in an attempt to muster some vigor to get through this. The tips of her fingers were cold, her toes numb in the pinched high heels she was wearing. Another wave of nausea wracked her form as Kagome struggled to breathe. That uncomfortable lump in the back of her throat was making itself known once more.

She couldn't blame him for this. She didn't blame him for this.

How could he? How could she?

After knowing each other for the last seven years, Kagome always assumed the bond that she and Inuyasha shared would play a more significant role in this. Some small voice in the back of her head told her that she should never assume anything anymore.

She made assumptions all of her life and look at where they got her.

Kagome assumed that her father would be around when she took over the company to help guide her in the right direction.

Kagome assumed that Touga would have assisted her without an ulterior motive.

Kagome assumed that she would be marrying someone that she loved.

Inuyasha took the news of their betrothal much better than she initially anticipated. In any other situation, he would have caused a riot, flinging foul words and inanimate objects around the room. He would have carried on like a sulking child until he achieved his way. However, he took one look at her, blue locked with gold, just the same as the first day that they met. As his father broke the news, she felt his eyes bore right down to her very soul. Inuyasha was searching for something. A hint of doubt perhaps? Kagome wasn't sure, but whatever it was he didn't find it.

She knew what he saw when he looked at her. What he gazed upon was unadulterated sadness and empty pleading. Kagome didn't remember how long they remained like that. The silence weighed heavy in the room, Touga, a long-forgotten participant in the conversation. They merely stared at one another. Cobalt irises being smothered by tawny hues.

In the end, Inuyasha submitted with a bow of his head.

Kagome never questioned why he agreed to the marriage the way that he did, but she was eternally grateful.

When the news of their engagement broke, and the merge of the two companies was solidified, the corporate world erupted into chaos. Competitive companies were asking for meetings to discuss future deals, current employees were looking forward to the new changes, and Touga took it upon himself to announce that he would be stepping down.

Both of their lives were falling into disorder. Here they were, left to their own devices to plan a wedding and to pick up where their fathers left off with their companies. Kagome knew Inuyasha was doing this solely for her benefit. It was a debt that she did not know how to repay. She swore that they could get through this together; that they would get through this together. Inuyasha was still her rock, and she would always remain as his. Once everything had calmed down after the wedding, they would figure out their lives together.

What she was not expecting, however, was that on the one day that she needed him most – the one day that they swore they would conquer hand in hand – Inuyasha would abandon her.

Nothing over the last few months would have indicated to Kagome that she would end up alone at the altar. Inuyasha carried on the same, always with that headstrong attitude that rivaled her own. He made it a point to check in on her most days under the pretext of making sure the wedding was not causing her too much stress. Kagome knew better, though. She knew that he was visiting her to calm his fraying nerves. They had come to an unspoken understanding. Or at least, she thought that they did.

The merger would take place after their wedding, and they would run their companies alongside one another. Though they were not marrying for love, there was still mutual respect, and that was more than what some had in their marriages. Together they were going to unite the different aspects of their lives and attempt to achieve the goals that they always strived for. Inuyasha would finally be in charge, and she would keep her father's dream alive.

How was it, that if there was this understanding, she now stood all alone?

-o-

There was a low growl that emanated off from her right. Without having to turn around, Kagome already knew that the gurgled grunt came from Touga. She could feel his anger from where she stood. Most of that frustration was directed towards his son, but Kagome was also a guilty party behind his volatile mood. He was the last person Kagome informed when she found out Inuyasha had run off.

Miroku had been the first to know that the would-be groom had gone into hiding. Miroku had gone to Inuyasha's apartment before arriving at the church to find his friend's home ransacked. It looked like whoever left had gone in a hurry without concerning themselves with cleaning up the mess they made. Miroku knew right away that he had run, hiding from his responsibility to Kagome. It was not until he found the note laid out on the granite counter-top that his fear was confirmed.

Kagome was getting ready for the ceremony when he brought it to her. She could tell by the look on his face when he entered her dressing room that whatever Miroku had to share with her would not be pleasant. He didn't say a word when he handed her the note. It was a crumbled piece of paper that looked like it was torn from some notebook. Short and to the point, written in Inuyasha's typical chicken scratch were the words that stomped away the small amount of happiness Kagome had been feeling that day.

K-

I'm so sorry, but I just can't do this.

- I

She was confused at first, remaining silent for a long time. The first emotion that erupted within her was anger. Of all days he had to pull something like this? What was wrong with him?

Though, that anger was quickly settled into calm resolve. Kagome promised herself that there would be nothing, absolutely nothing, that would stop her from taking over her father's company. If Inuyasha was not going to help her along that path, then so be it. She knew the wedding needed to happen for the merger to occur and she needed this alliance to occur. There would be a wedding, with or without a groom.

Without a word, Kagome crumpled up the letter and politely told Miroku that he needed to leave so she could finish getting ready for the service. The look that crossed his face as he processed what she said was priceless, and Kagome wished she had a camera to capture that moment. The slack-jawed shock plastered all over his face was the only amusing thing that could have occurred from that entire situation. He remained like that for a solid two minutes, attempting to pull himself together. He tried to talk her out of this pony show, – pleaded – to save herself the embarrassment of this whole ordeal.

Kagome refused.

There was nothing that anyone could do to sway her. She needed to do this. It was for her father.

Miroku had somberly left her after their small debate, to which she took the time to notify her mother and her maid of honor that there would be no groom waiting for her at the end of the aisle. Sango vowed his death by her own two hands, but her mother looked at her with understanding. She didn't try to stop her from what she was about to do. Kagome figured it was because her mother understood better than anyone what it meant to keep this company within the Higurashi family.

Confusion was evident in the church when she was guided down the aisle by her little brother, only to be given away to a non-existent groom. Kagome did her best to drown out the background noise. It helped that Miroku carried out the ceremony as if it was normal only to have the bride present.

She could do this. She would do this.

-o-

"-gome." Cerulean eyes that were lost within her memories came back to vivid life. Miroku's gaze held that familiar warmth, though, there was a pinch of worry in those indigo orbs. Lips quirking slightly in a small, half-hearted smile, Kagome let Miroku know that he had her attention once more.

When he spoke again, his voice was just a hushed whisper, meant for only her ears. "It's time for the sharing of the vows Kagome," he breathed in her direction.

His eyes drifted towards the vacant spot next to her before he locked eyes with her once more. They merely stared at each other, an awkward silence now descending upon the entire church. She knew that he was worried about proceeding, seeing as it was usually the groom who stated his vows first, but with no groom here, Miroku didn't know what to do.

"Is there any way that we could skip this part?" She hissed through clenched teeth, panic contorting her features while her eyes darted between Miroku and Sango.

Miroku responded in a sheepish whisper, "Well, I could say a few words instead of you reciting your vows, but we still have to exchange the rings, and we very well can't skip that part."

How could she do this?

How could she put herself through this?

Kagome was in denial. She knew it. Her friends knew it. Every person sitting in the church knew it.

Kagome wanted to believe – to hope – that this wasn't happening. That this whole thing was just one of his immature pranks. He always knew how to get under her skin; always knew which buttons to push that would get a rise out of her. She wasn't expecting him to run through the front door with grandiose proclamations of his undying affection towards her. She knew those words wouldn't be real.

However, she was expecting something - anything to deny that this was happening. If she just continued with the ceremony, it would give Inuyasha enough time to make it for the essential parts…right?

Kagome screwed her eyes shut.

'Breathe, Kagome,' she chastised herself internally.

What was she going to do? If this wedding didn't happen, then neither would the merger. It would only be a matter of time before the board of directors asked her to step down once again. Could she convince Touga to forget this entire thing? Perhaps after seeing the stress that it was causing them both, then maybe, just maybe, he would ignore the whole notion. She felt like she knew him well enough to try and convince him that they could continue with the merger without this stipulation.

She released a strangled noise from the back of her throat, something between a whine and a sob. Kagome could feel her shoulder shaking, but she wasn't sure if it was a reaction to the stress her body was undergoing or the harsh reality of her entire situation crashing down on her. She could feel everyone's eyes on her. If they were an uncomfortable weight at the beginning of the ceremony, they were now an unfathomable and unnerving mass suffocating her. Kagome didn't want to open her eyes and look around her. If the emotions that Miroku and Sango held were any indication to go from, she was sure that if she took one look at her mother, it would break her. Her mother's eyes were always so calm, so welcoming. Even after the loss of her father – her mother's life partner – she still presented a peaceful and openhearted aura.

It was what got Kagome through her father's death. It helped heal and lift the veil of the sorrow.

Now, she knew that if she took one look in her mother's eyes, it would solidify that this was over. Her mother would tell her just to stop fighting it, to accept this situation for what it is. She could almost hear what her mother would say.

'It's alright dear,' she would declare in that soft voice of hers. 'You tried your best, and that is all your father would ask for.'

This dream of running her father's company was coming to an end. Every aspect of her life was slowly slipping through her fingers like sand. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't find purchase to keep all the pieces together. Kagome knew that she had talked herself up. That even though she attempted to prepare herself for going through this ceremony alone mentally, there was little she could do to make herself genuinely ready for the events.

Slowly, she opened her eyes, unshed tears glistening in oceanic depths.

Kagome quickly looked towards Miroku, "You were right Miroku, I shouldn't have done this. I... I-" Her words cut off as a choked sob made its way up her throat. More tears threatened to fall, and it took every ounce of strength Kagome had to stop them.

Miroku remained silent, glancing over at Sango with pleading eyes. He was silently willing her to do something about this. Perhaps if they intervened now, they could save their friend the continued embarrassment of carrying on this charade.

Kagome took a deep shuddering breath and closed her eyes again. She just needed a minute, just a minute to collect herself. She focused on her breathing.

In. Out.

The only announcement of his arrival was the sudden warmth of a body next to her own. The musky scent of a forest after a heavy rainfall invaded her senses. It was crisp; clean. A welcomed balm that began to sooth her tousled array of emotions.

When Kagome once again opened her eyes, she was met with the sight of Miroku; both eyebrows arched so high they were lost behind his bangs. It took him a moment to collect himself, but when he did, Kagome swore she saw a flash of humor dance within those purple orbs. Confusion wracked her brain and, hesitantly, Kagome turned her head to peek at the person standing next to her.

He was permeating his usual air of nonchalance, looking like he wanted to be anywhere else instead of where he was currently standing. His hair was a waterfall of silver, though it was cut shorter than the last time she saw him. Instead of curling down to his mid-back, it was now just brushing past his shoulders, neatly pulled back into a low ponytail that rested at the nape of his neck. He was clad in a suit much like his father's; traditional black jacket and matching slacks, complimented with a maroon vest and matching bow-tie. It made the color of his eyes flare to life.

Sesshomaru Taisho was a picturesque being of aristocratic authority, mixed with an unparalleled god-like arrogance left him as infamous in the corporate world as he was in the tabloids. His personality befits the power and rank that he held. Like his father, Sesshomaru was a calculating man, but much colder to the point where it was difficult to approach him. He gave her the same first impression that she had of his father – intimidation. Though, where she eventually warmed up to Touga, Kagome never felt comfortable in Sesshomaru's presence.

The last time that they spoke was the night that Inuyasha had announced their engagement. She made the mistake of asking him how he was fairing that evening, to which he answered with a glare and silence. At a loss for how to even continue to engage this type of man in casual conversation, Kagome politely excused herself before hastily scurrying off to an area of the house that didn't seem so frigid.

The only person that Kagome saw Sesshomaru interact with that night – willingly – was his father. Even then the conversation seemed strained, with Touga taking over most of the discussion. Kagome didn't know how she felt about him. She couldn't read him. He was elusive; a mystery. Sesshomaru was a man that was indescribable when it came to appearance and demeanor. Many men sought to be him, and many women sought to be with him. Kagome got the feeling that he didn't particularly like her even though he never voiced his dislike out loud.

She was indifferent towards him; someone that just happened to be around him on occasion. They were not friends. Hell, they weren't even acquaintances.

That being said, it didn't explain what he was doing, standing next to her at the altar.

Sesshomaru looked at her then, a fleeting glance from the corner of his eye. Kagome saw the barest hint of disinterested gold before he turned his gaze upon Miroku.

"Continue," He deadpanned.

Kagome's eyebrows scrunched in utter confusion. What was he talking about?

Continue?

Continue what exactly?

It was then that she realized that he was talking about the exchanging of vows. Kagome quickly snapped her head in Sango's direction. The brunette looked to be caught in the same surprised stupor that she was. She glanced back towards Sesshomaru and opened her mouth to protest, but Miroku cut her off before she could even get a word out.

"Will you be standing in for the role of the groom?" He questioned in an almost – dare she say – pleased voice.

Sango recovered from her surprise at the question. "Stand in?! That is highly illegal. Of all the harebrained schemes that you have come up with over the years Miroku, this takes the cake! You are a lawyer; you should know better!" She screeched from her position off to the right, voice echoing throughout the cathedral. "Are you out of your mind Miroku?" Sango questioned, "Enough of this, I should have never let Kagome carry on this far. We need to end th-"

"Quiet." Sesshomaru softly demanded, his tone leaving no room for argument.

He briefly glanced at Sango, pinning her with a glare before his eyes trained back on Miroku. An eerie silence descended upon the church at that moment.

No one spoke.

No one whispered.

No one even breathed.

After a lull of uncomfortable silence, Sesshomaru finally offered a response to the original question, "I am no stand-in."

Sango, who, at this point was closing the distance between herself and Kagome, stopped dead in her tracks. Her face contorted into another blatant expression of shock. Miroku rose an elegant brow at the stiff response but kept his mouth firmly closed.

The voices that had previously been silent were now back with a vengeance. Over the multitude of murmured whispers, Kagome could swear that she also heard someone choke back a fit of laughter. Strangely, it seemed to be coming from the direction Touga was sitting. Kagome was aware that she needed to do something – say something – that would help her gather the reins and take control of this situation.

Before she could speak, Miroku, once again, beat her to it. "Then by all means, please state your vows," He hummed with the corner of his mouth kicking up with a smirk.

Sesshomaru turned towards her then, easily towering over her petite frame. Kagome gaped up at him like a fish out of water, her mouth opening and closing while her brain tried to piece together some protest. She needed a moment to gather her thoughts. She needed to wrap her head around just what exactly is going on.

In response to seeing her pathetic attempt at stalling, Sesshomaru narrowed his eyes a fraction of an inch and looked at her menacingly. Kagome took that as her cue to politely keep her mouth shut. With an audible click of her teeth, she shifted stiffly in his direction. She was sure she looked like a deer caught in the headlights, doe-like cerulean orbs staring up at him with a mix of confusion and apprehension.

When he spoke again, his voice had picked up in volume, though it dropped an octave. It was a deep and husky baritone that Kagome had never heard him use before.

"I vow to you today, and a thousand times over that I will never let you leave my side. I invite you to take all of me, to come into my life and to share all I have to offer. I humbly give you all that I am and pray that you choose me on this day and all of our days hereafter."

The longer he spoke, the quieter the church seemed to become, all listening to words that were so sincerely expressed. They wrapped around her, caressing her skin with an unparalleled warmth. She could feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand to attention as she listened to his vows. A cascade of pink dotted on the pale skin of her cheeks as she stared, once again slightly slack-jawed, at the man before her.

This man who she barely knew.

This man who had come to her in her time of need.

This man.

This man was supposed to be her brother-in-law.

There was something in his gaze that she could not quite place, something that turned cold amber into molten, golden fire. He was looking at her; through her. It was almost as if he was seeing someone that was not her. Was he imagining someone else standing next to him? Her stomach twisted in a knot, but this time she wasn't so sure that the cause was the anxiety of the situation.

No. This was something else.

Miroku took advantage of her stunned state. He wanted to get this entire ceremony over and done with. The sooner the procession ended, the quicker he could get Kagome away from all of these prying eyes.

"Do you…er…," He floundered for a moment before collecting himself. "Sesshomaru Taisho take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, in good times and woe, for richer or poorer, keeping yourself solely unto her for as long as you both shall live?" Miroku asked.

"I do," Sesshomaru supplied in a clipped tone, his eyes never once leaving Kagome.

Miroku then looked towards Kagome, who was still flushed with stunned awe. "Do you Kagome Higurashi take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, in good times and woe, for richer or poorer, keeping yourself solely unto him for as long as you both shall live?" He asked again.

She didn't answer right away. She couldn't answer right away.

What was there to say? What could she say? How did she end up in an even more confusing situation than the one she had already been in? Out of everything that could have occurred today, standing here facing a man she barely considered an acquaintance and vowing her entire life away was not something that she figured would happen.

A cold chill of dread slithered its way up her spine. She should not be doing this. If it were up to her, she would not be doing this. It was hypocritical to think that she would have been alright with this entire thing if it was Inuyasha standing next to her. What made it so different now that it was Sesshomaru standing here? She needed to remember what she was doing this for. Who she was doing this for. What was that burning desire that fueled her through this much of the ceremony?

This was her father's legacy; she would not let it die.

She pulled her lower lip between her teeth for a moment, gnawing at it slightly while staring up at Sesshomaru. A million questions were floating through her mind, but there was only one seemed to stand out more than the rest.

Why?

Releasing a ragged breath, Kagome squared her shoulders and straightened her spine.

"I do," she stated quietly.

Everything else around her seemed to fade into darkness. The church, the guests, even Miroku and Sango. Kagome merely gazed at the man before her. The realization dawned quicker than she had anticipated and it caused unease to bloom within her stomach once more.

She had pledged eternal love to a man that she hardly even knew….and he was supposed to be her brother-in-law.

#inuyasha #kagome higurashi #sesshomaru #sesskag #sesshomaru and kagome #fanfiction #otp #my otp #non cannon #romantic fiction #inuyasha au #say i do #chapter 1 #say i do chapter 1

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chicagocityofclans · 4 years

Photo

Catherine ‘Cat’ Barr → Jade Tailor→ Warlock

→ Basic Information

Age: 328

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Bisexual

Powers: Compass

Birthday: January 14th

Zodiac Sign: Capricorn

Religion: Luciferianism

Mark: Unknown

Generation: 1st

→ Her Personality

Cat has a strong personality. She can be cold with a detached attitude, trying to ward off potential friends or feelings, preventing any sort of attachment because of previous betrayals. Cat is incredibly outspoken with her opinions and thoughts without much regard to others feelings. This may stem from the fact that she is far more advanced in magic than others under her mentor and has shown to possess a more comprehensive grasp of magic than most warlocks or witches her age. She has also proven herself as a loyal and effective member of the warlock and witch society, though her anger management issues and lack of empathy terrify most of her associates. Many are willing to overlook this as she is the best (and only) tracker in town.

She has buried the trauma from her younger life so deeply that it has begun to affect her power, especially as she transitions into her Master level abilities. Cat is unable to have people in her life without a reason; they aren’t friends for the sake of being friends, they all have a specific use for her. Her impatience and hostility keep most people away and she has very few if any meaningful feelings for the people in her life. All of this feeds the deep insecurity created before she found her powers. It seeps into her daily life often, though she uses it as motivation in her training and advancement as a Compass. She gains her internal power from her magic. Before she was a scared little girl who lost the ones she loved; now she can move across the world, find anyone she wants, and has the power to take her loved ones back.

→ Her Personal Facts

Occupation: Cross Country Teleporter at Shutter Magic International Imports & Export

Scars: None

Tattoos: Lady trapped in a dreamcatcher on her right shoulder blade

Two Likes: Travel and Energy Drinks

Two Dislikes: Pink and Unsweet Tea

Two Fears: Planes and Other Forms of Transportation

Two Hobbies: Poker and Camping

Three Positive Traits: Trustworthy, Intelligent, Level-headed

Three Negative Traits: Hostile, Impatient, Insecure

→ Her Connections

Parent Names:

Jane Barr (Mother): Her mother was the sweetest thing on Earth. And because of that she never amounted to anything. Jane was used by friends and family over and over again. Cat grew up bitter, seeing the unfairest of the world and wants to be nothing like her mother. Cat loved her mother and still mourns her death.

Sibling Names:

None

Children Names:

Isabelle Kentlee (Daughter): Cat was only able to hold her daughter for a few seconds before Isabelle’s father took her away. They took a boat ride back to England but never made it. Cat’s mother, Jane, helped her mourn her loss.

Romantic Connections:

William Kentlee (Ex-Boyfriend): William was a rich Englishmen that Cat fell in love with. Sadly, once William found out Cat was pregnant, he wanted her to abort the child in order to save himself from humiliation back home; his wife and family. When Cat decided to keep the child, William made plans to bring the child back home with him. William never made it back to England.

Jace Cicero (Mutual Interest): She has some feelings for Jace, but he’s been there mostly as a current and future resource for her. He has extensive knowledge about the council, various powers, as well as Minsky’s plans for her. She also knows that when she comes back with her daughter she’ll need someone to stand for her when the council brings her to trial.

Platonic Connections:

Minsky Edison (Mentor): Cat has grown increasingly irritated with Minsky since she’s transitioned into her Master level. He has grown overly cautious and she feels like he’s overanalyzing her every move. She needed him to teach her the basic powers, but now he’s beginning to step outside of his bounds.

Raven Anderson (Resource): They met at a ‘Women��s Rights’ protest and exchanged numbers. Cat and Raven often teleport together to marches, rallies and protests. Her friendship with Raven was calculated so she’d have an in with a hunter, but she’s certain Raven is using her too.

Ronan Cleirigh (Employer): Ronan lets her get away with everything Minsky doesn’t, including lending her books about reality searching and black magic.

Audo Wilhelm (Resource): Cat does monthly readings with Audo to try and uncover what her future holds. He’s been having some challenges getting a clear future for her, and whether she has a child with her or not has eluded him.

Judson Cleirigh (Resource): Cat has been stockpiling various supplies she may need for Isabelle from Judson’s store. She’s unsure what powers or health problems her daughter may have and she needs to be prepared for the first few years in hiding. Judson has made joking comments, but she has a feeling that he knows something about to happen.

Eric Lasiter (Resource): Eric has been helping her transmutate a house for her and Isabelle to live in once she gets back. She teleports him to an anonymous location, he works for an agreed amount of hours and then she brings him back. A good paycheck and sympathy over his own lost daughters is the driving force behind their partnership.

Hostile Connections:

Maya ‘Flower’ Hanes (Dislike): Cat hates her face.

Kady Gaines (Hate): Cat has inquired multiple times to Kady to have her help in finding a universe where she could take her daughter back with the fewest consequences. Kady has flat out refused each time she asked without hearing her whole plea.

Nikita Platt (Hate): Cat thinks Nikita is a stuck up princess who has no respect for privacy. She accidentally stumbled across a memory of Cat’s and told Minsky what she found.

Pets:

None

→ History

Catherine Barr grew up feeling trapped. Her town was small, filled with small minded people who were hell bent on hating her and her mother. The scandal of Jane Barr falling pregnant as an unmarried woman was loud and put a lot of undue prejudice against Cat and Jane. Still in the face of everything, Jane was always kind. She would ignore the hate spewed at her and still act as kind as ever to the villagers. It was something she both hated and loved about her mother. She wished she would stand up for herself, and she wondered what was wrong with her that she wasn’t the same way. She felt the anger boil in her stomach, the protest rose in her throat, the desire to just disappear whenever the townspeople came close to her. When she was 18, a rich Englishman came to town. She brushed it off as another terrible town person, but was surprised when he sought her out. William Kentlee made Cat feel free. He had grand stories of London and the places he’d been. He brought food and presents for herself and her mother when he came calling. He made the terrible town she was stuck in feel brighter and better. She fell in love and gave William everything.

And then she fell pregnant. The original thought terrified her, but then she imagined her and William’s children running around his family’s home in England, her mother coming with to take care of the children; a fantasy life as Mrs. William Kentlee. When she told him he erupted in anger, called her foolish and told her to get rid of the baby. He screamed about his wife and children at home. Then he left, for months on a fur trade in Quebec. She couldn’t hurt this child inside of her and carried the baby to term. Cat named her Isabelle after a character in a book that William gave her. When Mr. Kentlee arrived back he tore through the Barr house, stealing Isabelle and heading to the first boat to London. Cat was completely broken, Jane tried to put the pieces back together but nothing fit without Isabelle. She swore she would get Isabelle back, even if she had to go to England to do it. She found multiple jobs, working as hard as she could to save up the money. And then news of a terrible accident on the boat happened and Cat fell apart again.

She wandered into the woods, hoping to never come back out to the world again. She walked in circles, days and nights only to arrive back to where she started near her mother’s home. Each time she became more and more frustrated. She always knew where to go, always knew where to look, even if she didn’t want to go there. One day during an attempt to get lost she spotted a woman in the middle of the forest. She hid behind a tree and watched her with a fawn who had been shot by a hunter. The deer had been dead when Cat crossed it the first time, no life in its eyes. Yet when the woman touched it, it stood and ran off. Cat had never much believed God was on her side, but that must have been the work of an angel. As if she’d heard her thoughts, the woman looked right at her and came walking towards her. She called out in a British tone which only made Cat run harder, until suddenly a large birch crashed down in front of her, dead, though it had been alive moments before. She swung around and suddenly the woman was in front of her. Cat attempted to run again, but the woman held tight and began her story of witches and warlocks and magic. When the woman said she could raise the dead or steal something’s life her heart caught in her throat. She told the woman the story of her baby, begging her to bring her back to life. The woman shook her head sadly and explained the rules. She grabbed Cat and in the next moment they were in a fancy room thousands of miles away. Cat was unable to return to her mother and at that moment began training. She spent her first 100 years in Edinburgh, with Adaline Mortimer, the necromancer, before escaping back to Canada after she was murdered. She made her way back to her small town to find everything was different and her childhood cottage destroyed. She moved to New York and then to Chicago. After years of being on her own, she found Minsky Edison and asked him to train her.

→ The Present

Cat has somewhat recently begun training for her Master level powers. She mastered her Advanced by her late 200s and pushed hard to have Minsky begin training her early. Kindred Tracking and Reality Searching have been the two driving forces of motivation for her powers. Cat is sure that Minsky is suspicious of her motives, causing a larger strife than what was already between them. While she is sure Minsky is worried about her safety and the repercussions of her actions; Cat has been carefully planning on taking Isabelle from another universe where the alternate Catherine is dead or dying, Isabelle succeeded the trip back to England, where Isabelle is being mistreated or abused, and other possibilities where Cat agreed it was safe to take Isabelle. Not only has she made multiple extraction plans but she has begun building a safe house and working with the local Council member to possibly avoid harsh sentencing if caught.

She knows that she has very few if any true friends in Chicago, and that isn’t enough to make anyone save her life when it comes down to it. She’s trying to offer more of herself in the various relationships she has. It became incredibly apparent when Eric asked if she would really raise the baby alone, with no outside contact. And when Audo asked what happened after she got the baby. Would she be happy? She wants to reach out and actually trust another person, but doesn’t know how to start.

Cat also has to deal with Minsky and the rest of the council encouraging her to sign up for the new beta testing for Kindred Tracking. They wanted to flush out family lines past the superficiality of marks, and they needed a Compass to try and develop beyond being able to see their bloodlines. Cat is playing the part of studying extra, practicing the motions, meditating over new magic. But the whole idea seems like a wild goose chase set in motion by Minsky to keep her distracted.

→ Available Gif Hunts (we do not own these)

Jade Tailor [1] [2] [3]

#Catherine Barr #Cat Barr #Open #OF #OFWR #OWR #Jade Tailor

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