#fear of the loss that comes with a complete and utter lack of control | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

koishua · 1 year

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« ☆ ◦ — ′ more than i do.

━━━━ yeonjun comfort imagine | all it takes is his soft touch, kind voice, and love to feel warm again. alternatively, you doubting yourself makes him drop everything and show you that you're so much more than enough.

━━━━ 1.032k words | angst, comfort | reader feels lacking, self doubt, emotional exhaustion

━━━━ feedback and reblog! so sorry for deleting this y'all it was my bad, a scary accident <//3

yeonjun traces his fingers over your shoulder, wrapping them around your arm to pull you in closer, laying your head on his chest when you find yourself in a state of utter defeat, unable to speak for fear of having the tears you fought so hard to reign in falling down your cheeks in steady drops. he holds you so close to him that you can feel each and every muscle on his body twitch ever so slightly in alarm when you breathe in shakily. you never realized how soothing the sound of his heartbeat was until now.

"do you want me to make you something warm to drink?" he asks, soft breath fanning over your lashes and you feel his arms tighten around your body when you ask him to stay. his chest rises and falls in a slow pattern, you unconsciously following him as the minutes passed by. the pressure on your lungs slowly ease into something a little more comfortable, however the dull ache remains.

thumbs brushing over your bare skin, the palm of his one hand so comfortable around your waist, the other playing with your hair absentmindedly. the wind chimes accompany your blue night, the weather outside just as cloudy as your mind. you wish the moon appeared behind your window even if just for a brief glimpse.

"yeonjun?"

"yes?" he replies sweetly, completely silent until the moment you call for him. he positions himself in a way so that he can look at you more easily, though he regrets his decision immediately. heartbreak felt even more devastating when you were the one wearing it so openly behind your glassy eyes.

"do you think i am enough?" do you think i am enough? am i enough for you? do i deserve everything i have in this world? do you think i am a good person? am i doing enough? am i enough? why do you love me? why would you ever love me? i am sorry for everything i have ever done and everything i never did. i am sorry for being like this and i am so sorry for not being able to be more than what i am now.

yeonjun's breath hitches, his nose burns with a familiar need to succumb to his shattering heart. he stops stroking your hair, dropping it to find your hand, lacing his fingers through yours tightly. for a short second, you feel warmth back inside your chest when he brings it close and presses a kiss to the back of your hand. he doesn't stop until he's kissed away the traitorous tear that slips past your control— doesn't stop until after he's softly kissed your temple, above your eyes, butterflies gliding over your jaw.

he's so close, lips ghosting over yours as he stares deep into your eyes. as if stripped naked under his gaze, all you can do is sit and look back in astonishment when he asks you a single question back.

"how do i help you love and cherish yourself more than i do?" how do i tell you that i fear seeing you like this more than death? how do i begin to explain how much it kills me to have you look so lost, so hurt? what can i do to let you see how beautiful you are in my eyes? how can i love you into loving yourself?

you forget to breathe until he sighs. it's as though you're brought back to life when he wraps his hand around your wrist (so softly) to pull you into a hug, your legs thrown over his lap and head tucked away safely in the crook of his neck. he smells like your sheets, your shampoo, your scented candle— your home.

at a loss of words, you begrudgingly welcome the rush of emotions that you'd tried to suppress for so long. it all comes tumbling down, washing away the stuffy feeling dragging you down as you try to hold back the sobs racking over your body. the sound of you silencing yourself hurts the man holding you like you are the one thing he needs the most in life.

"don't cry, jun." you mumble, feeling a few drops on tears landing on your shoulder. "i hate it when you cry because of me, so please, don't cry."

"i love you so much." he whispers, dabbing his sleeves over his eyes, "i hate it when you cry because of you, too, you know? i hate how you don't see how much you deserve. i hate how you constantly work yourself to death because you don't feel like you've done enough. i hate how i can't take your pain and worries away. i hate it, too."

your fists tighten their hold on his shirt that smells like your softener. it's a beat later when you plead at him, voice thick and exhausted, "please never stop loving me, jun, i'm begging you."

you're disoriented when he pulls you into a breathless kiss, gasping for air every time he pulls away to say i love you one more time. his lips feel just as warm and soft on yours as his hand on the nape of your neck, the other around your waist. "i love you." he whispers over and over again until it's all you can ever think of.

"do you love me?"

"more than the air i breathe in to live."

"do you love me?"

"more than you could ever know."

"do you love me?"

"more than i'll ever be able to tell you."

"do you love me?"

"i do."

"i love you, too."

he tastes the salt from your tears as he makes his way down your jaw and along with it takes away every single one of your deepest fears. every nip on your skin feels like the weight of the world lifted from your soul. each touch and stroke sends a shiver down your spine, so sensitive to anything his body has to say to you.

"i love you. i love you. i love you. to me, you're so much more than just enough and one day, you'll feel the way i do about you."

#it was a whole adventure trying to recover this somehow 😭😭#txt angst #txt yeonjun #txt x reader #yeonjun imagines #yeonjun scenarios #yeonjun x y/n #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun angst #txt imagines

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dark1k · 3 years

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Oh no.

❛ people get hurt if they get too close to me. ❜

Connor saying this to markus.

*runs*

Don't run too far, haha! Thank you for requesting, I hope you enjoy! :)

•••

"Next question!"

News conferences always dragged on relentlessly. Markus tapped his fingers against the table in a random pattern, waiting as the next journalist was selected to speak. They had been asked about their demands, the law-making process, even opinions of CyberLife's future. He was accompanied by the rest of New Jericho's leadership and felt comforted by the presence of Connor and North beside him, with Josh and Simon sitting at either sides of the stage.

It had been a standard, boring conference thus far.

"Markus – as leader of the android movement and subsequent revolution, are you not fearful of the RK800's programming?"

You could hear a pin clatter against the floor in the sudden quietness of the room. Markus was stunned into silence and felt Connor stiffen beside him, his LED blaring red for a second before transitioning back to yellow. Even North was uncharacteristically at a loss for words.

"His name is Connor." Markus began, an edge to his voice that had not existed prior, "And what evidence nor relevance does this question have to the nature of our desires to be seen and treated as equals?" Markus swept his eyes to the android next to him and felt his heart wrench as Connor's posture had turned rigidly still, his eyes blank and unseeing towards the crowd of cameras and flashing lights in front of them.

"With the recent breach in CyberLife databases, private information that had been unknown to the masses has since gone viral. It is now public knowledge that the RK800 possesses an artificial intelligence program that can be accessed from any point within the state of Michigan. Rumors have begun to spread that such a feature can pose as a threat to the progress you have been trying to achieve. Are you not wary of such accusations?"

Markus clenched his fists against the table, any trace of exhaustion long forgotten. How dare this journalist ask such an invasive and offensive question. Connor had confided about the night atop that stage months ago, how he had been so fearful of losing control, his autonomy, and Markus only reassured him that there was nothing to apologize for. He ultimately defeated his programming and was a deviant – his own person – just like the rest of them.

The nerve of this journalist to flaunt one of Connor's biggest insecurities, even unknowingly, had Markus seeing red for the first time since he stared down the FBI in the middle of Detroit's streets.

"I'll have you know that I am neither fearful nor wary of the android sitting beside me, the one you refuse the decency of referring to by name. Connor has been the most formidable in our campaign for android rights and has sacrificed far more than you will ever begin to comprehend. CyberLife's security breach is of no interest to us as we have no regard for the corporation that profited off of our slavery for years. Your question lacks knowledge, empathy, and sophistication for the station you unfortunately represent. This news conference is over, no further questions."

Contrary to the silence from two minutes earlier, the room erupted into shouts and clambering. Markus paid it no mind as he stood with his fellow leaders, immediately grasping onto Connor's arm. The detective barely seemed to register his touch, the only acknowledgement being a sideways look into his eyes before he followed Josh down the stairs.

Wirelessly communicating with his friends, he asked them to walk ahead towards their shared green room as he led Connor to an empty meeting room nearby. Once the door was shut, Markus gathered the other into his arms, his worry only growing as Connor remained unresponsive against his chest.

"Come here, come on now. Don't even listen to what he had to say, he was completely out of line and had some nerve." Markus pleaded, rubbing his back in the hopes of getting some kind of answer. "Connor, you've helped our revolution more than anyone and are so innately alive. You feel, you care, you love, you create, and the fact that he used Amanda and the abuse CyberLife inflicted on you is fucked up."

Those words apparently snapped Connor out of whatever headspace he had been stuck in because he immediately rips himself from Markus' arms and begins to pace around the room, LED shining bright red for a second time. He anxiously twists his hands, his quarter forgotten on their shared nightstand. Neither thought it would be needed today.

"Markus, you have to see some credibility in what he asked. They see me as a liability, now more than ever, thanks to CyberLife being hacked. They know about Amanda, about my mind palace, I wouldn't be shocked if they found the reports I sent while acting as their machine." Markus frowned, opening his mouth to retort, to exclaim that the humans had no right to be privy to such private information. But Connor spoke before he could utter a single word, his next statement crushing his soul.

"People get hurt if they get too close to me."

Momentarily uprooted by those words, Markus then notices the unshed tears in Connor's eyes and the way his chest appears to heave. He runs a quick scan and nearly drops from the shock of seeing his stress levels displayed at 88%.

Crossing the room in three large strides, he grabs Connor by the shoulders and stops his pacing. "Hey, look at me. Okay, Con? I need you to pay attention and follow my lead, can you do that? Just watch my chest and try to match my breathing." Markus takes a deep breath in and holds it in for a few seconds before slowly exhaling, making sure Connor is following along. It takes a few minutes, but soon enough, both androids are breathing at the same time and Markus is rubbing the other's shoulders, trying to keep his attention in the present.

"No. Connor, the people you're closest to have only benefited from your presence. You help them heal, you inspire them to grow. You advocate for them to become the best versions of themselves. You are the exact opposite of pain, you are warmth personified."

And as Markus gathers the trembling android into his arms, quietly hushing and whispering words of endearment into his ear, he vows to do everything within his power to ensure Connor never feels this helpless again. The gunshot wounds he received in battle hurt less than the sight of his boyfriend not only suffering, but believing such hateful words.

He softly kisses his forehead and they stay pressed together for what feels like a second, a minute, an hour, a lifetime.

#rk1k #rk1000 #dbh markus #dbh connor #dbh #markus x connor #jericrew #detroit become human #angst but with a hopeful ending(?)#my writing #I honestly didn't expect to write this much #but here we are #ANYWAYS

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mello-jello · 3 years

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Don't we all agree that Hange loves to play pranks on Levi? I'm pretty sure the most fucked up joke she made was when she pretended to sacrifice to save humanity and being burn alive? lord, Levi was so pissed off! It tooked like 3 years to finally forgive Hange and they finally living in a small cottage in the forest. How do I know this? Cause I'm their handmaid.

omg anon, how does one get that job? I will do it for free! I would PAY to have that job.

I realize Tumblr is collectively over the BBC Sherlock, but can you just imagine Hange with a stupid pencil drawn on moustache, trying and failing SO HARD to lighten the mood?

Maybe Hange needed to lay low? Maybe the Yeagerists has eyes on Levi, and making contact with him would have put him at risk?

oh no...

UhHHmm... hang on, I made this into a whole thing:

It’s midday and yet the sky is dark. Thick storm clouds circle above, threatening torrential downpour at any moment. The ceremony was good, all things considered. The 104th all gave short speeches about their beloved commander, which was nice. The priest was a little religious but kept the service pretty well non-secular, which is what Hange would have wanted.

Levi on the other hand, would have loved some sort of reassurance that this wasn’t the end. He would love to be able to believe in a heaven, where Hange is spending their time in complete bliss and will be there when it’s his time. He wants to believe there is any sort of omnipotent being in control of everything. He wishes he was capable of that kind of thinking.

And yet.

Everyone has left by now, and Levi’s not sure how he’d been standing there, staring at the freshly laid soil below a headstone. Fighting back tears, he speaks aloud, a last ditch effort to communicate with God or whatever. How does he know for sure Hange’s not listening anyway?

"Hange,” his voice catches as he had been clenching his jaw all day.

“I… I was so alone and I owe you so much. But please, there's just one more thing... one more thing, one more miracle, Hange, for me? Don't. Be. Dead. Would you do that, just for me? Just stop it. Stop this..."

Levi felt silly. Talking out loud to the dead never appealed to him before, why would he start now? He dropped the bouquet of flowers he was gripping too tightly onto the grave and turned to leave, just as the rain started to pour.

---

Onyankopon, Gabi, and Falco can sense Levi’s depression. It stems from more than the loss of Hange, it comes from everything Levi has ever lost in his entire life. There is no need for Levi to fight anymore. No more distractions. The lack of distractions is what makes living on so difficult.

It’s been three years since that fateful day, and the trio wanted to do something on the anniversary to take Levi’s mind off of it, even if just for an evening. Levi was bitter and cold as usual, but he knew they were just trying to help, and he did appreciate it. So reluctantly, he agreed to a movie and dinner.

He never even needed to shave before, but Levi had grown quite an impressive moustache during this time. The kids seemed to like it, they said he looked distinguished. Levi figured it would also help get attention off his scars.

Gabi and Falco were particularly excited for the movie. It was a musical comedy, of all things. Levi surprised himself by actually kind of laughing at it. He enjoyed the caramelized popcorn, too. At dinner, the 4 of them sat around a fancy table and Levi listened wholeheartedly as the other 3 discussed the movie. At one point, Gabi had shot soda out of her nose from laughing too hard, and Falco was teasing her about it.

Levi was about to interject with a snide remark, when he was suddenly interrupted by a particularly terse waiter.

“Sir, I think, you’ll find this vintage to your liking”, they said in an accent Levi had never heard before, while shoving a bottle of wine in his face. Levi was pissed, as the bottle so rudely brought up unpleasant memories.

“Tch, no.” Levi said as politely as he could muster through his teeth.

“It ’as all the qualities of the old, with some of the colour of the new,” they said, as if purposefully ignoring him. Levi was actually having a good time tonight, why did this guy have to be so pushy?

Keeping his locked forward, Levi said again, “No, thank you.”

The waiter switched sides, now on Levi’s left, which had the eye he could see with. Onyankopon gave Levi a sympathetic look as the water continued, “Like a gaze from a crowd of strangers, suddenly one is aware they are staring into ze face of an old friend.”

“No, look seriously,” Levi finally breaks and looks up, “could you just-”

Levi’s face drops. His entire body jolts impossibly rigid, as he stares with an expression of utter disbelief.

Hange. Hange was the waiter. They dipped a napkin into a glass of water, and wiped off the fake mustache from their top lip. “Interesting thing, a tuxedo. Lends distinction to friends, and anonymity to waiters,” they said in their normal voice.

“Levi?” Gabi asks, and Levi is suddenly aware that he forgot to breathe. He forgot to blink too. He feared that if he moved in any way, Hange might disappear.

He turns his head to Onyankopon, then his eyes fill with tears and he ducks his head momentarily before he stumbles clumsily to his feet, shaking the table in the process. He looks at Hange again, who then extends their arms, as if expecting Levi to hug them.

“Hange?” Oyankopon questioned, incredulously.

Levi looked down at the table, breathing heavily before locking eyes with Hange again.

“Hey, does your rub off, too?” Hange gestured to Levi’s facial hair, to which he did not find funny. His gaze was slowly turning murderous.

Falco put his hand on Levi’s arm. “What-?”

“Well, long story short,” Hange explained, a little awkwardly. “I’m not dead.”

Hange stares into Levi’s eyes as they slowly realize that this was a bad idea. They start feeling guilty. “It was a bit mean, springing it on you like that, I know. I could have given you a heart attack, probably still will. But in my defence, it was very funny. Okay, it’s not a great defence-”

“I SAW YOU!” Onyankopon broke through their rambling.

“Oh, no-

“YOU DIED!”

“I just checked, and no, no I didn’t!”

Levi made a fist and pounded the table, nearly spilling all their drinks and drawing attention to them. Hange looked around nervously, but Levi did not care, although he whispered, “three years.”

“Okay, Levi, I’m suddenly realising I probably owe you some sort of an apology,”

Levi took another, deliberately deep breath and asked, “how?”

“Just… okay, one question! Let me ask one question,” Hange asked. They pointed to Levi’s moustache, “Are you really going to keep that?” They blurted out in laughter for all of 2 seconds before Levi launched at them. They both crashed to the floor, Levi on top of Hange, trying to throttle them.

#levihan #levihan drabble #i might have more 👀#i wrote this on break on a night shift so don't look at it too long okay #this is a wee bit angstier than i thought

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themafia-terrapins · 3 years

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Into the night.

A/N: You should read the post before this to get an understanding of this AU. Fair warning, this is pretty long. Enjoy! 💚

Disclaimer: mention of child abuse ahead. Be warned!

Cold. Merciless. Dangerous. Mysterious.

They were the only words that many used to describe the Hamato Clan. No one wanted to mess with them in fear of what they would do, countless stories were told of those who had double crossed them and in result, hadn’t lived to see the next day. The most feared gang caught in a dark and ruthless world of crime, violence, blood and lust. Others wanted their wealth and power but not everything is what it seemed to be.

The cold breeze hit Leonardo’s face, as he gulped down air quickly into his lungs. He was sure those horrid nightmares would have stopped, it had been almost 11 years for God’s sake. Cursing under his breath, he knocked down the tub of medication which rattled on the floor. The view of New York was beautiful from all the way up here and as frantically as he tried to focus on it, those poisonous thoughts blazed through his mind and he had no power to control it.

“Father please don’t leave again” The young teen cried, trailing helplessly after the rat who swore angrily. Being only 13, he wasn’t able to grab those supplies that his brothers needed. They were forced to rely on Splinter but he would hardly help them. They were lucky if he even brought down the bare necessities for them to survive on.

“How many times do I have to tell you leave me alone?! Enough!” Splinter growled, loosening his tie as he made his way to the sewers steps. But Leo had to try for his brothers, he couldn’t look at their pain anymore. He couldn’t go back empty handed, to witness Raphael put up a brave front despite actively bleeding and bruised practically everywhere on his frail body. He couldn’t see Donnie on the verge of another panic attack because he didn’t know how to fix them. He couldn’t bear to see Mikey trying to hold it all together but breaking down in the bathroom , when he thought nobody was listening because he couldn’t live in this nightmare.

“R-Raph is hurt and we don’t have any more bandages” Leo spoke timidly, trying to sound clear and confident but his voice trembled. Splinter stood still and the turtle could already smell the sour whiskey from his clothes. It had been a bad day, he presumed. Whiskey was only drunk whenever a loss was incurred. And that usually meant he wouldn’t be home for days, much o the turtle’s pleasure.

“What have I said about speaking back?!” Splinter bellowed, his arm whacking Leo backwards until his shell hit the tunnel. The side of his shell had already been damaged due to constantly training day and night to perfect the routine Splinter had set them. But an audible crack had been heard and a small gasp left his lips, already seeing a trickle of blood roll down his skin staining the previous bandages. He hadn’t even time to register the pain until Splinter loomed over his body, his eyes black and dangerous.

“Father I’m-” Leo’s breath hitched in his throat, tears prickling his eyes painfully watching his hand raise slowly. ‘Not again, please not again’

“You’re absolutely hopeless, you hear me?!” Again Splinter punched the turtle, laughing each time when the terrapin recoiled in pain. Leonardo held his tongue, scared to further anger the drunken rat. Every slap, punch and kick was taken without a sound because the punishment for wincing was double the amount than the beating now. And he wasn’t so sure his shell could take anymore.

“Look at you! You expect to take on my legacy acting like a pathetic little girl?! Get out of my sight before I finish you” With one swift punch to Leo’s jaw, Splinter left to go topside. He could hear his evil voice cackle on the phone to one of his partners in this mysterious business he refused to utter a word about.

“Why do you hit us so much? What did we ever do to you?” Leo sobbed quietly, curling into a little ball on the floor. The punch on his plastron seared throughout his body, burning in hot white pain. Yet it must be nothing compared to what his brothers were going through. They were awaiting Leo but the eldest could barely move, let alone walk to their home.

Home, usually described at being comforting and loving but he hadn’t felt any of these emotions since they moved in. He used to yearn for a mother to come and take their pain away but as he grew, that dream slowly died as hope in him also began to wither.

Maybe one day things would be different...

---

Blaring traffic shocked the turtle out of his trance and with a shuddering breath, he took several deep breaths. He l

“Why must I be reminded of such memories?” Leonardo sighed, his hand drifting over his temple to soothe the dull ache. No matter how long it had been, the wound from his past was still fresh. They say time healed all pain so why did his still hurt? Some nights it was bearable and some nights it felt like he was being suffocated in his mind, slowly driving insane.

Physical pain definitely was a lot more tolerable than verbal, even now he could still hear the echo of Splinter’s voice reprimanding him whenever he failed. Those stabbing words ringing louder and louder in his ears, berating him for being stupid and weak. Laughing at how his ridiculous attempt of leading a team. Leonardo never wanted anything more than to make Splinter proud but during his years, he realised that it was never going to happen.

Splinter only cared for himself and Leo, along with his brothers, were merely pawns in his cruel game.

But now was not the time to dwell on these matters, things had to be done and completed. His phone rang jarring him out of his thoughts and he picked it up rather reluctantly.

“What is it, Silas?” His assistant/companion spoke quickly, picking up the disinterest in Leo’s voice. He was never one for sugarcoating his feelings or emotions, if the boss wanted something done it was pronto.

“Beast is requesting dinner with capo and the mob. Your presence is required, sir” Holding his urge to groan, the turtle glanced down at the lights that decorated the buildings of New York. They were so beautiful but he couldn’t even take the time to appreciate it, reality had called and with great reluctance he had to answer.

Beast... what was there to say? He was a snob, ignorant, extremely wealthy but lacked any common sense or values. Leo’s patience was practically non existent whenever he communicated with him. While he provided a great reference for other business partners, Beast himself was on thin ice with the brothers.

“Dinner at... 1am?” Leo scowled, looking at his watch. Beast, while had been an average business partner, had constant demands and ideas that were completely absurd. The brothers were tiring of his constant requests and awful timing.

“I did not suggest the convocation at this late sir” The assistant began but Leo interrupted him, wanting to end this conversation.

“Be that as it may, unfortunately I cannot attend. Cancel my plans for tonight, I have a reconciliation to attend to and the conference will take up most my time” He ordered, observing the bonsai trees that stood on the balcony. One thing he grew to adore was his plants, they were simple and with enough care and love, blossomed into something gorgeous.

“I don’t think Beast will be pleased with the rejection. He only wants a few words with the mob and especially you, Capo” Silas tried to reason but the terrapin was adamant.

“Enough. Reschedule this meeting tomorrow at 11pm sharp. Am I understood?” Leo commanded and Silas nodded, already writing it down in his notepad.

“Crystal. Enjoy your night sir” ‘Unlikely’... Hanging up, the blue cladded turtle inhaled a deep breath to collect his thoughts. Cancelling the meeting is a mistake but there were bigger fish to fry tonight. Other duties lay heavy on his mind and with a turn of his heel, he left his safe haven.

As he entered his room, a young woman appeared at his door. Her heels echoed on the polished marble floors, grinding on his last nerve. God he really didn’t want to deal with her right in this moment. Her eyes settled on his and her face lifted into a small smile, one he did not mirror back.

“Katherine, what brings you to my quarters? Surely you’re old enough to understand you cannot barge in whenever you please” Leonardo watched as the young woman quickly stepped back, picking up the heavy discomfort that lay in the air.

“My apologies Leonardo. It’s Raphael, he said that you guys are attending a conference tonight but it’s our 3 month-”

“I fail to understand how this is my problem” He was quick in letting her know, he hadn’t the time to listen to her. Truth be told, he would never understand why Raphael stuck with her. She caused more pain and grief than anything to him.

“Okay... but could you tell me at least why?” She cocked her head and Leo turned, his face set in a hard frown.

“That is between me and my brothers Katherine. I do not appreciate when people interfere in my business. That much should be painfully obvious” His tone was calm but the harsh voice was clearly heard.

Opening his cupboard door, the small picture of Eva caught his eye. A small pang of sadness washed over his body before getting a grip on himself, refusing himself to succumb to the weakness. Eva was the past yet it seemed no matter how long the years had gone by, the yearn was as strong as ever. He wondered if he would ever be free from the shackles around his heart that locked tightly in his chest.

He had to accept that no matter how much he hoped on a wishing star or to the sky, she simply was not coming back. On the side showed a glass mirror, outlining all the features on his face. Sleep hadn’t come to the turtle much recently, he was lucky to get 4 hours and that was on a good day.

“You know you can just call me Kiki like everyone else” She raised her brow as he grabbed his navy blue velvet suit, the unreadable facial expression plastered on his face while his dark sapphire eyes burned into hers. Still standing at the doorway, she felt almost scared of him. Despite being with his brother for around 8 years, she never felt like she knew Leo. No one did, he kept to himself and only showed his true colours to those he cared about.

“Katherine, if that is all you have come to say then I highly suggest you leave me be now. It would not bode well for you to overstep your boundaries” With an almost snarl, he walked forwards and closed his door.

---

“Would you like some champagne, Mr Hamato? It’s the one you specifically requested, Dom Pérignon” The waiter asked and Leo nodded his head, flicking through the newspapers as he awaited the rest of his brothers to join him. This meeting was better suited to the office, he didn’t need any extra ears or eyes to listen in on the information discussed between them.

“God, I need a drink” He could hear the brute’s voice carry through the halls and into the meeting room.

“Right away boss” Greyson, his assistant spoke and vanished to make his preferred alcoholic beverage.

“What is the occasion, dear brother? As much as I like to spend time with you, I’m assuming you haven’t called us for fun” Donnie sat down, his ankle resting on top of his thigh as his attention diverted to his brother. Delicately folding the papers up and placing them to the side, Leo eyed his younger brother with a smirk.

“Always straight to the point Donatello. And you’d be correct, I’ve called this meeting to discuss our next steps” He spoke authoritatively as the turtles settled in their seats, glancing at the board which held ideas and secret plans.

“Did ya cancel tha meetin’ with Beast tonight?” Raph asked, eyes skimming at the tablet. That was very unlikely of the leader, he was the one always nagging to keep up with business meetings and such.

“Yes, I’ll be damned if I have to listen to another lie of his again. He cannot speak clearly and I have no time for beating around the bush. Once we’re done with this proposal, it will be a big relief to have him off our backs” Leo sipped his wine, flicking through his notes. A few names picked up but on the whole, everything seemed relatively calm. But there was no resting, they couldn’t afford not to be on their guard. Trouble was brewing on the horizon, he could feel it in his body.

“Fuck sake, how many times do I have to tell you I hate when you organise my notes like this” Mikey sighed irritably as his brothers smirked, looking at each other with amusement.

It was a running joke that Mikey couldn’t hold an assistant down for more than 2 months. Perhaps it was his picky way of being organised or that he had a short temper and hated his things being out of place, they didn’t know. This new assistant fumbled with the drinks, paling as his boss shouted his displeasure.

“What happened to Donetti Licata?” Donatello asked, chuckling at his younger brother expecting another childish story about organisation as it as had been the story before.

“Fired him. Caught him screwing Mia in my bed. Which reminds me I really need to employ someone who actually has a working braincell” Mikey spoke nonchalantly while his brothers looked at each other wide eyed.

“Oh... shit. M’sorry Mike, that must’ve been hard” Raph murmured, surprised at how well his little brother was taking the whole thing. Almost... too well in his opinion. Amelia had been the light of his life, his love at one point. They both brought out the best in each other but perhaps it was simply a mirage to the toxicity that lay just under the surface.

She wasn’t the Amelia he fell in love with and as he came to grips with that, the idea of losing her forever felt absolutely scary to him. He tried everything to put their relationship on track but it was Amelia who refused to partake in anything.

“Hmm? Oh.. yeah. It was tolerable once I beat the shit out of him. I can’t ever believe I trusted the fucker....” Mikey leaned back on his chair as another glass of wine was placed in front of him. Yet the lump in his throat felt unmovable, rendering him breathless.

“Don’t tell me ya still wit’ her Mike. Yer deserve better than that” Raphael’s hand ached to knock some sense into the terrapin. Even if she would countlessly cheat on him, which she probably had done, all she had to do was flutter her lashes and sweet talk him. And just like that Mikey would forgive her in that second. In his eyes, Mia could do no wrong. She had Mikey on a leash but of course, he was oblivious to it all.

“You still with Kiki?” Mikey retorted, venom in his words while his eyes glared at his brother. Raphael’s frown deepened, holding his gaze. While he knew it was in the heat of the moment, he wished Mikey could see the damage Amelia was doing to him. Kiki was different only because Raph knew her past, knew that she was damaged too. How could he, of all people, leave her hanging alone?

“Children, behave. What do we do about these last few payments? I’ve talked to Xavier and he’s saying Gomez hasn’t responded to anything. It’s high time we pay a special visit, he’s got to know who exactly he’s messing with here” Donnie rolled his eyes at the quarrel and adjusted his glasses, raising them closer to his eyes. Leonardo seemed to be in deep thought for a few seconds before looking at his family again.

“If that’s the case then I want you and Mikey to check it out tomorrow. Me and Raph will deal with Beast, we all know how dramatic he likes to get when he doesn’t get his way” They all knew the last time they messed with Beast, how he threatened to take his money away and leave them bankrupt. Regardless of his filthy money, the turtles were not affected without it.

Years of investing and saving up had allowed them to live luxuriously. They had everything they ever wanted, Beast was just a liability to them. They needed him to increase potential business partners. To be able to stay at the top, they needed to associate with people at the top. If that meant doing business with idiots who couldn’t hold their ground and lacked any sense of morals and values, then so be it.

This was the mafia, after all. Nothing was pretty here.

“He’s clearly trying to inherit the property, why not just kill him altogether” Mikey pointed out, leaning back on his chair but Leo shook his head.

“Too risky. He may be a fool but he’s a smart one. He has plenty of connections with others, much powerful than the ones we have. We’ll keep him on the side but don’t turn your eyes, he will strike when least expected. Once we secure this deal, you can unleash all your anger on him. For now, we stay in his good books. However long that may be” He grimaced at the thought of the meeting they were supposed to have instead of this one. How long the turtle brothers would remain on his good side was unknown but hey, only a few more months of his bullshit and it was home run. The brothers continued to talk about upcoming events and nearing the end of the meeting, they all grabbed their belongings.

“Wait a sec, Amara’s coming here tomorrow?” Mikey read out the small note on the board and Leo nodded, finishing off his wine.

“Yes, well technically she’s visiting but we needed some help around here and she agreed to stick around for a while” She was a close friend to the turtles, meeting them after they newly escaped Splinter’s clutches. She had found them at a time when they were barely breathing and even without knowing who they were, she nursed them back to health. They all were indebted to her. Throughout the years, she went back to Italy since her father was part of their own mafia but her loyalty to the turtles never wavered.

“At least we get ta see a new face ‘round here. But goin’ back ta before, I can’t wait ta finally kill that bastard” Raphael cracked his knuckles, unbuttoning his vest. He never was one to take orders from people, he was incredibly stubborn and arrogant to take commands from someone else. He barely followed Leo’s on a good day, let alone someone who continually threatened him and his family. If it were up-to him, he would have Beast’s head on a silver platter and sent directly to his team

“All in due time brother. For now, let’s focus on getting our money back and dealing with Beast”

#tmnt mafia!turtles #tmnt mafia!leonardo #tmnt mafia!raphael #tmnt mafia!donatello #tmnt mafia!michelangelo

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loruleanheart · 3 years

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Desired Fate, Chapter 15

Read on FF.net

Read on Ao3

King Rhoam had to collect himself, letting out a huff of defeat, grappling with whom he should be most angry. The thought occurred to him that he was partially to blame. What if his stern treatment of Zelda had stunted her ability to unlock her power, or worse... had chased her into the arms of that man? He feared it was true, but he couldn't let it show. This was one of the worst possible outcomes coupled with one he never would have imagined. It was a lot to take in, but he felt - no knew - that as King his immediate concern was the Calamity. Finding a fitting punishment for that man would have to be considered later - if there was a later, which was unlikely without Zelda's fully realized power. But Rhoam knew if he had the chance he would be willing to break her heart one final time if it meant that man was dealt with appropriately. In time, she would move on and she would thank him someday.

Rhoam surveyed the Champion's shaken expressions. The wind silently sent the tall grass rippling, giving an unsettled atmosphere in the wake of what had been witnessed. Rhoam turned his back to them, focusing on the beast that was encircling Hyrule castle. There was a long pause before he spoke. "Champions, it is time to take to your Divine Beasts. Although we may lack the means to seal Ganon away, we must continue to defend Hyrule until the very end."

Impa took in the expressions of the Champions and spoke. "Wait, Your Majesty. If I may… Astor gave a warning regarding the Divine Beasts, and considering that Ganon has already taken control of the Guardians I think we should listen. We must be prepared for anything Ganon may throw at us."

Rhoam turned. "Are you seriously suggesting we listen to the ramblings of that insane man calling himself a prophet?"

"But, Your Majesty… What other choice do we have?"

"Not a chance! I'm not going to hearken to anything that man has to say. By the goddesses, he's going to need someone holier than Hylia when I find him!"

The Sheikah woman shifted uncomfortably but stood her ground. "But, Your Majesty..." This time, Rhoam could detect the tiniest hint of disapproval in her voice, perhaps even veiled disgust, a tone that believed he should be begging Zelda's forgiveness for humiliating her and treating that prophet with such disrespect since it was so painfully obvious Zelda cared about him for some reason Rhoam couldn't comprehend. "What about Princess Zelda? I'm worried for her."

"You think I'm not?" Rhoam said, irritated.

"We can't be so quick to give up on her, nor can we discount the effort she has put in. If we take extra precautions we can still use the Divine Beasts to locate her. I choose to remain optimistic and believe she will access her power very soon."

Rhoam was at a loss. Impa was too much like a friend to Zelda, not the advisor he had appointed her to be. He was baffled at how she did not at all seem angered by Zelda's shameful display and complete abandonment of her duty. Rhoam was about to rebuke the Sheikah woman when the four champions and Link gave a nod of agreement at Impa's words. The King stood silently as the group began to devise a plan to oppose the blights, should they appear.

oOo

Zelda opened her eyes and looked around, assessing the place Astor had taken them. It appeared to be an area of the Lost Woods she was unfamiliar with. Yet there was something distinctly different about this place from those dreary woods. There was an abundant amount of Silent Princess flowers everywhere, more than Zelda had ever seen in one place. She knew immediately that there was something otherworldly about this place.

"No one will bother us here," Astor said calmly. Zelda could tell he was growing more accustomed to her touch. He was not as eager to let go of her as he had before. The shoulder of his robe was damp from her tears. The prophet took notice but mercifully said nothing.

"Where are we? It looks a bit like the Lost Woods, but… It's just so beautiful." She looked up, seeing stars dimly giving their light through the canopy of the trees. Was it always night here? A beautiful, illusionary realm where time remained still?

Astor gave Zelda's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "It's a place of respite I think. I found this place after I cut ties with the Yiga Clan. And I think for you, rest is well deserved."

Zelda dropped her gaze. "How can I rest when everyone is facing the Calamity, while I am here in relative comfort and safety? Already, Father has accused me of running from my duty… And he has no reason to think otherwise… At least from his perspective. I..I'm so ashamed. I can only hope that with your words, the Champions will be safe." Zelda said, tensely, still trying to recover.

"He's an ignorant old fool with neither the blood of the goddess or the gift of prophecy. As a prophet of the Calamity, Ganon impressed its fear of your power upon me, sending me visions of things to come, so I know you will awaken to your power soon. That is fate's true course that Ganon seeks to upend. And, I'm not unaware of how hard you've tried. I have watched your pains to unlock your power for some time now." And it was true. All those years he had watched with calm assurance that Calamity Ganon would rise and bring Hyrule to its knees, she trained by praying in freezing cold water until she collapsed and bore the brunt of her failure that only stung more as the years rolled by.

Zelda gave a small nod of acknowldgement, although she was too broken down to take much comfort in his words. She wanted so much to touch his face and tell him how much she loved him, but she held back, not wanting to feel any more vulnerable than she already did. She was afraid she might hurt him on account of the fresh bruise he had received. It was clear that her father had struck him. "I was so afraid of what Father might do to you. I'm so sorry for asking you to accompany me back to the Castle". H-he's a mean old man…" Zelda sniffed, breaking into a relieved but slightly tearful giggle.

Astor smirked slightly, finding Zelda adorable in her moment of catharsis. "You managed to abide that man for seventeen years? I see that you are stronger than I would have thought. And don't be sorry. There's nowhere else I need to be except by your side."

Zelda smiled a bit at his words. It was such a relief to see her smile again.

Astor continued. "I never thought it possible, but you were able to pull me back over the threshold and away from Calamity Ganon. No one has given me the amount of consideration you have."

Zelda's lovely green eyes lit up and Astor knew those dark days serving Calamity Ganon were finally over, and most surprising to him, he hadn't realized how awful those years had been until now. It was disorienting, like waking up from a distended dream. And he couldn't resist her any longer. No one had ever held to him or looked upon him in the way she did. He couldn't be the one to help her unlock her power, he knew that, but he wanted to at least pretend.

"How can I help you unlock your power…?" There was a sensual note in his voice, as he cupped her cheek, still damp with tears. Zelda's breath hitched in anticipation as he dipped his head to meet his lips to hers. She gave a small sigh of happiness, trapping his lips with hers, wishing she could savor the moment for all time. A single tear slid down her cheek, feeling a sense of release, drinking deeply of that kiss. She pulled down the hood of his robe, being careful to avoid the bruises on his hollow cheeks as her fingers grazed his pallid skin.

"Take all that you need from me," He breathed between kisses, taking her in the most intimate embrace before grabbing her under the ass and hoisting her up with some effort. Zelda gave a surprised but pleased sound.

"Exquisite..." Astor complimented, giving it a squeeze.

Zelda giggled and kissed him again, slowly, intensely, though she wobbled a bit, Astor struggling to support her weight. An intoxicating warmth spread throughout her whole being, her body yearning for his undeniably. But a dim feeling of sadness began to creep in as she wondered if they ever truly had a chance to be together that wasn't in secret. Would anyone ever accept them when there were so many reasons they would object? He would likely be put to death, and she'd have no say in the matter. Yet she couldn't stop herself from loving him.

If I can't realize my power, there might not be life after the Calamity, Zelda scolded herself.

Astor gave a pleased laugh. "Alright, Your Highness. You're breaking my arms." He set her down, with an apologetic look.

Zelda uttered an almost involuntary whimper of longing, reaching out for him again, her anxieties starting to overtake her again as doubts plagued her more than ever. "Lay down with me while I fall asleep?"

Astor gave her a stunned, blank expression for a moment.

"Hey, don't make this difficult." Zelda teased, pulling at the strings of his robe.

"Y-yes, Princess" Astor laughed as they kissed, carefully taking off his gold belt, the string of beads around his hips, and collar that hung over his shoulders. He helped her remove his robe, which was held together with hidden clamps. Astor draped the robe over her shoulders, and Zelda wrapped it around herself like a blanket, taking a moment to enjoy its softness and the warmness of it.

Zelda's gaze moved over him, admiring his silhouette. Under the robe, he wore a high-collared crimson shirt and a pair of black riding pants that did not appear ancient and worn like his robe.

They laid down together on the moss-covered ground. Astor slid his hand under the robe which was draped over her, sliding his hand over the curve of her hip where the folds of her pure white dress gathered. His name escaped her, softly. Zelda raised up slightly to lean on his chest and kissed him vehemently. Astor greedily wrapped an arm around her waist, kissing back with savage abandon.

Zelda drew away slowly, pushing his braided lock of hair away from his eye absentmindedly, noticing the fine lines under his eyes he hid under dark makeup. His dark brows tensed as he smiled a bit, giving her an affectionate but pensive gaze

Zelda sensed there was something he was keeping from her. Like there was something haunting him. Was something going to happen to him that he knew about? He was a prophet after all. She couldn't imagine the heavy emotional toll that came with glancing one's own future.

Zelda could barely keep her eyes open. It wasn't long before she fell asleep in his arms.

"Happy Birthday, Princess…" Astor had waited such a long time for this fated day, the day Ganon would rise. Yet, he was not spending it as he would have originally envisioned. He could barely comprehend that he was lying next to the Princess of Hyrule, helping to comfort her on her darkest day. And for the first time in his life, he understood what it was to love and be loved.

#Astor #Age of Calamity #Zelast #fanfiction #sorry for the wait!!!#I live

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hanadolphieron · 3 years

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lunar artist!yeojin; chapter one~

warnings; none

genre; sci-fi, strangers to lovers, fluff, slight angst

pairing; im yeojin x gender neutral!reader

word count; 1.4k

summary; your small crater town on the moon was rarely visited. one day, artist!yeojin travels all the way from mars to paint the serene, wistful scenery of your planet.

staring out into the sparkling abyss beneath you is a favorite past-time of yours. something about floating a few inches above the dusty, grey surface of the moon and looking out at the endless glittering fireballs surrounding all that you can see appeals to the deep lunar being inside you.

sometimes it even feels as if you were born here.

your family was from neptune, a planet known for its imaginative artists with striking, green eyes that see more colors than any other species.

after you finished your first section of schooling, you moved to your current planet, the moon, as fast as possible. the dreary serenity of the planet had always piqued your interest. it was perfect for a budding writer like you.

and normally, you don’t find yourself regretting the decision to move.

but today is different. the small crater you call home is far-off from the large civilizations. upon your first meeting with the small floating cottage, you felt more inspired than you ever had before! the place seemed full of life, even in the gloomy atmosphere of the moon.

now, instead of new ideas and an enhanced imagination, you are left with exasperation at the bleak nothingness surrounding you.

however, apparently it was time for a change.

you felt the air and gravity messing around behind you. after four years on the moon, you knew what this meant- someone was coming.

glancing behind you, you saw arguably the most beautiful being you had ever laid your eyes upon.

her auburn hair was choppy, and bangs laid haphazardly across her face, like she’d just been caught up in a gust of wind. with a shake of her head to maneuver her hair back into place, you caught sight of a sigil painted across her forehead. the red symbol was a circle, with an arrow coming out of it, pointing north-east.

you recognized this emblem as a representation of mars. surprising, considering the tension between the moon and mars. history hadn’t been the nicest to the two of your planets, and there was always a struggle for food and wealth, which had caused your civilizations to prey on each other for as many resources as possible, in order to prosper off each other’s loss.

the girl continued towards you. her dark eyes surrounded by shimmering, golden glitter that was now visible enchanted you as she gradually got closer.

you stared back.

she wasn’t the tallest, most marsians weren’t, but her presence was overwhelming. it felt like a red storm was flying towards you, leaving stormy chaos in its wake.

once the girl was a few feet away form you, slightly hovering above ground, she asked, “can i paint you?”

finally noticing the art set filled with a fluorescent silver palette, you realized who she was- a marsian artist.

artists were scarce in the marsian society, most citizens pursued a career in mining or as warriors, but a few yahoos broke away and followed other paths.

“why?” you ask.

“i came here to illustrate the people of this planet, but it seems its almost completely barren. you’re the first being i’ve seen.”

she sits down, not waiting for an answer from you.

you’re a little awkward at this point. aggressive behavior isn’t a something you’re used to, and it throws you off guard. rolling your shoulders back a bit, you shift around, wondering how she’s going to paint you.

“what’s your name?” the girl says, almost accusingly. man, these marsians have a jarring way of speaking.

“y/n. you?” your softer, serene voice floats toward her.

“yeojin,” she says, slamming her painting utensils onto the ground. they hover a few inches above the surface, like all other things.

her upper lip pulls up and she growls at it.

weird, you think, and giggle.

“what do you do here? as a job.”

“i’m a journalist.”

“as you can see, i’m unemployed,” comes her response, and she grins at you.

your lips set into an easy half-smile, “wish this planet had more people, seems as if the war never ended. it’s been a century and we’re still suffering from a lack of people. this town used to be the hype-house of the lunar system, everyone wanted to live here, sphere-home prices were sky-rocketing, trade with the other galaxies was better than it ever was before, and now,” you gesture around to the nothingness, “it’s all gone.”

she stares. what is up with these marsians? no sense of social cues.

“hmm. this whole galaxy is in ruins. back home, we must be behind a decade in technology. power goes out frequently. food stores are running out. the government is eating up our money. we don’t know where it goes.”

you sigh, looking out at the stars.

“sounds like we’re both the only sane ones in this insane world”

“yeah,” yeojin nods, dipping her brush into a can of snowflakey gray paint.

you don’t notice her starting to paint. as you wrap your arms around your legs and tuck your knees into your chest, a lunar frog hops by. you call it over. it flops over to you, its speckled coat shining and reflecting the light given off by the distant sun, and sniffs at your outstretched finger.

“hi jerry,” you say, giving the amphibian a lazy smile.

“is that its name?” yeojin says, sounding surprised.

“no, i just like to name animals, you know? gives them more meaning- i feel like we don’t appreciate the little things in life enough, always rushing about, never stopping and smelling the flowers.”

“you live in a planet without oxygen. flowers don’t exist here” comes yeojin’s deadpan response.

“good point,” you say, giggling a bit. normally you’re not as smiley as this; your face is always stagnant, deep-set eyes staring blankly at the world. must be the social interaction that you’ve been craving for so long.

the frog licks your pinkie, making you shriek in happiness and fright at the same time. the frog is terrified by your loud exclamation, and bounds away as fast as possible.

“dang,” you say.

you look over at yeojin. she’s studying you intently. “i didn’t know lunar beings like you cursed.”

“dang is not a curse you eggshell,” you say lightheartedly, reaching out to smack her on the shoulder.

her tough skin doesn’t even move, and yeojin laughs at you. she puts her paintbrush down and tackles you. not used to physical contact this early, (you haven’t even learned 80% of her weaknesses yet! that’s a crime lunar society!) you try to flail around, but she has you pinned to the ground.

you have no idea how she defeated gravity like that, by pure force you guess, i mean the ground probably didn’t even bat an eye with how confidently she hovered over you.

you gain control of your limbs again after freezing for a hot second, and shove at her shoulders.

she doesn’t budge. these marsians live up to their prstince, atheltic reputation.

laughing, yeojin lets you up, grabbing your wrist and pulling you forward. you’re surprised again, and stumble forward into her chest.

gasping at the utter clicheness of this whole moment, you pull away and unfold into a standing position (which is like seven feet tall, neptunians are known to be massive.)

you realize that when upright, you stand a good two feet taller than yeojin, and now feel incredibly gangly. she glares up at you.

“sit down and stop being so tall,” she says grumpily, reaching down to pack up her stuff.

you do as she says and plop onto the surface-air.

seeing her putting all her supplies up, now seemingly in a hurry, you inquire, “where are you going?”

“i’m set to be back home around 17:33. right now it’s 17:30,” yeojin says, deflty throwing all her paints into a case. (you wonder how she’s not breaking them with how aggressive she is.)

“how are you going to get back so fast?” you ask her, curious and surprised beyond belief.

“you’ll see,” yeojin says, walking away at a fast pace.

“wait!” you yell after her, not wanting to lose her after such a short time together.

she keeps walking.

you get up, rushing after her. somehow, her stubby legs move faster than your massive ones, and she stays in front of you.

she turns around, staring at you, stormy eyed. fear graces her pupils,

“catch you later. i’ll be back soon,” yeojin says through gritted teeth. she doesn’t seem offended by anything you said or did, and disappointment in, herself? is written all over her face. you have no clue why she’s leaving, and neptunians are supposed to be good at this intuition stuff!

“wa- don’t go yet!” you exclaim, panicking at this point.

a cloud of dust envelops her, and she disappears.

masterlist - next

#femifics #loona astrology #loona imagines #loona fluff #loona angst #loona x reader #loona reactions #loona scenarios #loona #im yeojin

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meta-squash · 3 years

Text

Brick Club 1.5.13 “Solution of Some Questions of The Municipal Police”

Oh man. This one got long.

The spectacle continues. Fantine and Javert do not walk to the precinct alone; they’re followed by all the jeering spectators that were watching the fight. They are still yelling, laughing, genuinely finding amusement in Fantine’s humiliation. Fantine has returned to the mechanical lack of self she had before the fight. In the course of this chapter we’ll see her continuously oscillate between outbursts of presence and self-assertive distress, and moments of frightened distance and emotional shut-down.

“Curiosity is gluttony. To see is to devour.” Hugo keeps reiterating this. One of the worst things, aside from being an actual antagonist, aside from being an actual actor in the ruin of a person, is to be a bystander, a rubbernecker. There are no innocent bystanders, and by standing there, watching, finding glee and entertainment in the suffering of others, you are part of the problem. Curiosity is good, when it’s curiosity in pursuit of a solution or an answer in order to help someone. Curiosity is bad when the interest is purely voyeuristic. (I want to know why Hugo decided to use “to see” (voir) rather than “to watch” (regarder) in this sentence.)

Hugo’s discussion of the relationship between sex workers and cops is so sharp. The police have complete control over what happens to sex workers, who they choose to let go and who they bring in, how they are punished and for how long. I imagine, in cases that don’t include Javert, there’s a lot of “I won’t detain you if you sleep with me etc” type behavior from other cops. (Perhaps this is why Javert is so scary; he can’t be bribed or convinced and doesn’t use his status as leverage like that.) The police can “confiscate at will those two sad things they call their industry and their liberty.” This line just gets to me. The only thing people as poor as Fantine feel they have left is their way of making a living, and their freedom to be alive. Everything is else is on loan or in debt. And the cops can take those last two things at any moment. Not only that, but their industry and their liberty are both intrinsically connected to their bodies. Their industry isn’t something they can leave at the end of the day; they are always existing within the body that is also the main component of their livelihood.

I don’t know enough about legal proceedings of the era, but Javert is judge and jury here, condemning Fantine all by himself to six months in prison. On the other hand, Valjean (and Champmathieu) must go to court at Arras in order to be sentenced. Is this Hugo doing his Artistic Liberties handwavy thing, or could this have actually been done? It seems odd that some people could be sentenced by a random policeman and others have to go to court in front of a jury.

“It was one of those moments in which he exercised without restraint, but with all the scruples of a strict conscience, his formidable discretionary power.” Javert is extremely aware of his role in all of this. What’s fascinating to me about Javert is that he isn’t going around convicting people willy nilly, randomly making up crimes and things to fit a quota the way cops do in present day. With Fantine (and later, with Valjean, and even with the Thenardiers) he sits and he considers and he thinks about what he’s witnessed until he’s sure he’s seen a crime. The problem is, his morals and opinions are so rigid and unchanging that he could probably find crime almost anywhere, because he’s completely inflexible about what things are good or bad. Also, this arrest of Fantine is apparently a “great” (grande, as in big) thing, which I find interesting. Prostitution is essentially legal, so perhaps for him it’s a big thing because he finally has a reason to arrest someone whose legal profession he morally disagrees with? Or perhaps Fantine isn’t registered while most others are? Or maybe it’s big because it’s not just an arrest of a sex worker, but of a sex worker who has committed violence against a well-to-do gentleman? I don’t know.

“He was conducting a trial.” Nearly every time Hugo uses this phrase, when an individual character is conducting a trial of someone or something else, the resulting judgement is incorrect or too extreme. This happened with Valjean’s trial against religion, Javert is doing it here and will do it again at the end of the novel, Marius sort of does it to Valjean after the wedding. Each time a person’s worth is judged by a single person, the judgement falls short.

Fantine is terrified of prison, but part of her fear isn’t prison itself, but the wages. She’s more worried about the welfare of Cosette than herself. This makes sense to me. To her, prison itself probably doesn’t feel like it would be too much more miserable than her current state. The only increase in her misery would be her worry for Cosette and her inability to pay for her daughter’s care.

“Without getting to her feet, she dragged herself along the floor, dirtied by the muddy feet of all these men, clasping her hands, on her knees.” What an intense image. This is the condition of poor women: forced to beg for mercy from men who have power over them, while crawling through all the problems caused by those men’s uncaring and manipulative actions, dirtied by the utter lack of assistance from anyone with the actual power to help, and scoffed at when they clasp their hands and kiss the coattails of their oppressors.

Fantine’s monologue to Javert makes me so sad because she goes back and forth between “I did nothing wrong” and “maybe I was wrong to react the way I did,” when her reaction was so completely right. She asks, “Do they have the right to throw snow down our backs when we are going along quietly without harming anybody?” and I feel as though, in Javert’s eyes, they kind of do, because he disapproves of her profession in the first place. Fantine also brings up her illness here and in her other monologues, never as an excuse or even as an attempt to elicit pity, simply as an explanation. She also says “I wasn’t immodest with him, I didn’t speak with him. That was when he put the snow on me.” She literally tells Javert that she wasn’t trying to engage with Bamatabois in any way, that she was completely ignoring him even as he tried to incite her. The last chapter doesn’t mention how long he was mocking her for, only that her pacing brought her back to his spot “every five minutes,” which means he must have been out there harassing her for quite some time before he shoved snow down her back and she snapped. And yet, here she talks herself in a circle, suddenly turning around and saying “Perhaps I was wrong to get mad.” It’s just so sad that she’s completely in the right and yet she doubts even that.

And Javert doesn’t hear a word of her explanation or her pleas. She realizes this, and instead tries to use Cosette. But this isn’t her using Cosette to save herself, this is using Cosette to save Cosette. She realizes that if she goes to prison she won’t be able to pay for Cosette. She tries to use her “poor starved child,” tries to ask for pity for Cosette. If Javert won’t pity her, a sex worker, maybe he’ll pity her as the mother of a little girl. But considering Javert’s childhood, he probably sees Cosette as equally as bad as her mother, because she’s the child of a prostitute, born out of wedlock, living in poverty with some random innkeepers two hundred miles away.

“I’m not a bad woman at heart. It’s not laziness and greed that have brought me to this; I’ve drunk brandy but it was from misery.” God, this line. I don’t even know who would think something like greed or laziness (but especially greed) could bring someone into this line of work. Maybe if she was, like, a well-known professional sex worker in a Paris brothel she could make good money, but as a random woman walking the streets in a garrisoned town? She clearly makes practically nothing. And poverty like this isn’t lazy at all. Every second not spent sleeping is spent trying to make money, worrying about being able to pay rent or debts or to find food or some way to keep warm or whatever. I hate that even today people still think poverty comes from laziness.

“Great grief is a divine and terrible thing that transfigures the wretched. At that instant Fantine had again become beautiful.” I don’t really know what to do with this line. It feels like a weird fetishization of poverty and suffering?

“She would have softened a heart of granite; but you cannot soften a heart of wood.” Why can’t you soften a heart of wood? Because wood only rots when it gets soft. I do find it interesting that Hugo calls Javert’s heart wooden, but uses statue imagery for him for the rest of the chapter.

Javert declaring that "The Eternal Father in person couldn’t help you now” is a heavy line. The law is above even god here. If god appeared right now and told him to free Fantine, Javert is saying he wouldn’t do it. A page later we see him reluctantly stand down to Valjean, which negates this statement, but it’s interesting that at this instant, he says wouldn’t even be moved to mercy by god. And it’s true, he’s not moved to mercy, ever. At no point is it ever his decision to let Fantine go. He does not bow to pleas for mercy, but he will bow to authority, even if he questioned it a moment before.

Valjean enters without being noticed and watches the exchange. I feel like this is a weird reversal of Hugo’s “to see is to devour” from earlier in the chapter. Valjean is watching, but not out of voyeuristic curiosity. He intends to actually act, to do something about what has happened and help someone who needs help.

Throughout the last few chapters, Fantine has grown rougher with each loss. Her speech and personality has changed, she drinks, she is louder, less polite, and more childish. She’s lost her “modesty” and with that any pretense. There’s no more masking. She’s not trying to fit in, because that’s not happening anymore.

Somehow I’ve glossed over this line each time I’ve read the book, but when Fantine spits in Madeleine’s face, Hugo seems to imply that it reminds Javert of his suspicions re: Madeleine’s true identity. Javert sees this action and makes the connection between convict-Valjean and Fantine, and instead of seeing the sacrilege of a prostitute spitting on a mayor, for a moment he sees an interaction between two outlaws of society: a convict and a prostitute.

I’ve noticed that Fantine talks to herself in reaction to being freed in the same way that Valjean talked to himself when Myriel was first kind to him/when the bishop told the gendarmes to set him free, and the same way Eponine talks to herself. There’s a marked difference between moments when characters “talk to themselves” but it’s obvious that it’s a narrative mechanic of them thinking in their heads, and when they actually talk to themselves while other people are present. For Fantine and Valjean, it’s in moments when they are in great emotional shock/distress that they speak aloud to themselves while other people are present. (I’m not sure what to make of that in terms of Eponine, who always seems to be speaking mostly to herself.)

Fantine starts out this monologue talking to herself, but then she turns it into talking to Javert. It’s interesting that her utter rejection of Valjean means that she’s actually turning to Javert to speak, despite being absolutely terrified of him only moments ago.

Fantine announces that she’s not afraid of Valjean. Of course she’s not; in her eyes he’s done everything to her that he can. He has caused all her suffering and doesn’t have the power to cause anything more. She’s still afraid of Javert because he still has the power to hurt and ruin her. He can fine her or send her to prison, and condemn her for as long as he likes. She doesn’t know anything about Valjean, except that she assumes he doesn’t care. What she knows about Javert is that he does care, only that care is on the side of punishment, not one of mercy. It’s interesting then that she continues to try and appeal to his better nature (one which he does not possess) or to his pity (which he also does not possess). She also continues to try and convince herself that it is Javert who has decided to let her go, not Madeleine. It’s almost as though she thinks that if she can convince herself that he’s the one letting her go, she can also convince him to actually do it.

Fantine’s monologues keep coming back to wages. She specifically criticizes the way that the prison contractors do wrong to poor people by paying them so little for so much labor. Her discussion of her own expenses is also still applicable to modern day. She still owes money to the Thenardiers, but she’s up to date on her rent. This is still the experience of the poor: you deal with more immediate expenses first, and debts come second, even as they continue to rack up.

Both Fantine and Javert are thrown off balance by Madeleine’s declaration. Fantine spends her entire monologue before attempting to leave trying convince herself that it is Javert that has let her go. It is only when she hears Madeleine confirm that he was the one who declared it that she is thrown off-kilter, having to reconcile her opinion of Madeleine with his (perceived) actions. Javert is thrown by someone in an authority position acting the way that Madeleine is; this is the first time we see him actually question authority and refuse to act on an order.

“...that order, law, morality, government, society itself, were personified in him, Javert?” This is the only time, I think, where Hugo implies that a character is consciously becoming a Symbol. The fact that Hugo even suggests the potential for Javert to see himself as the embodiment of law, morality, society, etc is unique, because no other character sees themselves as the embodiment of such big concepts. The closest might be Valjean seeing himself as a Bad Person Forever, but even that is a much smaller concept, in that Valjean is looking at his past self, not at himself as the entire concept of Criminals Everywhere. But Hugo only gives two choices when it comes to Javert: either he is questioning authority for the first time in his life, or he is consciously becoming a Symbol. It turns out to be the former, but both of these things are really extremely significant.To become a conscious symbol, or even to have the potential of becoming a conscious symbol, is a unique level of conceptual engagement for a character, almost like starting to break the fourth wall. And questioning authority is a First for Javert here, significant because it starts the ball rolling and he continues to question Madeleine’s authority from here on out, even if it’s only to himself and not to his face.

“The insult does not belong to him, but to justice.” Okay so Hapgood translates this line a little differently, but WOW I love this FMA version a lot. Just the idea that something as small as an insult doesn’t even get to belong to the person it was directed at, but instead can be entirely claimed by the law. Now, I know that this line is supposed to mean that Fantine’s insult to Madeleine was by default also an insult to justice due to Madeleine’s authority position, but I always read it as the law taking this insult for its own use. Like, “This societal outcast insulted someone, so now we can arrest her, because any sort of social indiscretion from someone like that belongs to the law” or “this insult, because it was made in the presence of police by someone in custody, now belongs to the law rather than her or her target.” (It also reminds me of modern day cops, who arrest or threaten to arrest people simply for hurting their little baby feelings despite doing nothing illegal.)

Fantine goes through a parallel struggle to Valjean here. The man she hated so much (Madeleine) was her savior, just as the religion Valjean doubted and hated had been his. I mean, literally they have the same “two paths, one of light and one of darkness” symbolism, the same angel/demon symbolism, the same conflict about whether or not they must change their whole soul and beliefs, the same absolute terror, and then the final feeling of hope and gratitude. She kneels in front of Valjean the same way Valjean knelt in front of Myriel’s door.

This is also the first time we see Valjean’s benevolence in speech, action, and monetary terms. He rescued Fauchelevent, but we don’t seem him speak to Fauchelevent after that despite the purchase of his horse and cart and getting him a new job. We never see him speak to anyone else that he helps, especially since his usual mode is Reverse Robbery (thank you Mellow for that term btw) rather than in-person benevolence. But we do get him not only rescuing Fantine from prison, but speaking to her, offering her monetary help, offering her pretty much any assistance towards happiness. I wonder if the difference between Valjean’s interaction here with Fantine, and his interaction with Fauchelevent or any other person he gives money to or helps, is that this is the first instance that he feels guilty or personally responsible. Every other act of charity, including Fauchelevent is just that, selfless charity just because. But this, Fantine, is Valjean righting a wrong that has been done. Even though it was without his knowledge, he still seems to feel responsible.

Once again, we have a moment of hope for Fantine that is immediately dashed. Fantine is free, she’s going to get her daughter back, she can leave her miserable life for something better, her debts will be paid, she can be happy. Only she faints, and she spends the rest of her time in hospital until her death.

#les miserables #les miserables meta #brickclub #lm 1.5.13 #les mis #les mis meta

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zankivich · 4 years

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The Arrangement: CEO’s Son/Dom!Shawn x Black Sub Reader Chapter 15

a/n: I don’t have much to say. This chapter is short, but necessary. The world is dying. The fandom is gone. I’m not sure if there’s much of a point anymore, but y’all said you wanted it so...here it is.

*y/n’s point of view*

“Why are you here Shawn!”

“Because! I need you to be my manager!”

“Excuse me? Did you stop to smoke crack while you were running from the subway?!” You screeched.

He rolled his eyes up at you. “No ma’am, I did not. Just let me explain okay?”

“Shawn this is completely illogical! You cannot just run pounding on my door at any odd hour of the night with some half baked ass scheme--”

“Y/N!” He screamed silencing you quickly. “Stop yelling. Sit down. I’m going to explain it to you and then we can have a conversation like normal human beings, okay?”

No man, let alone a white one, had ever had the audacity to speak to you in such a manner. It had only been Shawn who seemed to lack an evolutionary response to fear the wrath of a black woman. If only it didn’t cause your back to straighten and your mouth to part. If only you didn’t like it just the slightest little bit. Asshole.

“Fine. But I’m not happy about it.” You huffed marching over to the couch.

He snorted as he got up off the floor.

“Yes, because god forbid you do something you’re not happy about without letting the entire world know, darling.”

You rolled your eyes down at the ground and tried to hide the fact that his pet names still made your heart ache. Sheesh.

He stood in front of you, towering over you for a second in a way that simply had no right to make your mouth water. But it’d been months and you were lonely and you missed him in more ways than one. Then he dropped down to his knees before you and reached for your hands, and the lust immediately melted to a gooey center. Cause beyond everything he was still the softest, kindest human you’d ever met. He still made you calm, made you happy, made you infinitely better than you ever were without him.

“I quit.” He started.

You immediately frowned. “Huh?”

“I quit my job. I walked out on all of it, y/n.”

“....Are you out of your goddamn mind?!”

You went to pull away from his hands, only for him to squeeze tighter and move closer. The fact that he could remain calm in this moment baffled you beyond belief.

“No. In fact I don’t think I’ve ever been clearer.”

“Shawn...The whole entire point was that he was going to give you your masters and your contract. Why in the entire world would you walk out on that opportunity? It’s everything you ever wanted.”

He nodded and his hands tightened around yours.

“Because it wasn’t worth it.” He murmured. “I had something that mattered to me more.”

You immediately shook your head. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and it felt like the walls were closing in. EVerything that you had gone through. All the emotional hoops you had to jump through to let him go. The pain and the heartache and the loss. All for him to squander the bigger picture. Why?

“No. No, you don’t get to do that. You don’t get to choose me over the very thing you’ve wanted since you were fourteen years old, Shawn. I’m not gonna let you.”

You tried to pull away once again but he only held you closer, only looked up at you more directly so that you couldn’t get out of being in that moment with him.

He smiled. “I know. I know now that that’s why you did it. Though I do wish you would’ve just talked to me instead.”

“I knew you’d never do it if I didn’t make you.” You whispered.

“Of course I wouldn’t...What would ever make you think that fame could mean more to me than you?”

“But...But it’s what you always wanted.” You stared in utter confusion. “Music, it’s your pulse. It’s what makes you, you.”

He let go of your hand and reached instead for your cheek, palm warm and large and all consuming.

“All I ever wanted was to be able to create music, and sing, and perform.” He explained. “And you gave that to me y/n. You. You restored anything he ever took from me. I didn’t need more. All I wanted was you.”

You didn’t mean to cry. You really didn’t. But there’s something about him choosing you that shakes you to your very core. It matters. It’s one thing to know your own worth and know what you deserve. It’s another thing entirely to have someone affirm that so fully and so empathetically. Not only had you thought you were making the right decision, you thought it would ultimately be what you wanted. You couldn’t have prepared to be so wrong. You couldn't prepare for him to love you in a way that was more meaningful than music. Because that had to mean that you meant more to him than maybe anything in the world.

“Well….shit.” You sniffled blinking away tears.

He chuckled and reached to press a kiss against your forehead. You closed your eyes and let yourself drink him in. The smell of his cologne. The feel of his curls against your forehead His warmth. He pulled back and looked you in the eye and you felt more at home than you had in weeks. Then he peered down at his watch and was immediately up off the floor.

“Shit, we’re late. Let’s go.” He muttered.

“What?”

“I’ll explain in the car. Let’s go!”

***

*Shawn’s point of view*

His leg won’t stop shaking. He keeps bouncing with his fingers interwined and crossed in front of his face so that they can’t see how fucking teriified he is. It’s a room evenly split down the middle. To one side was him, y/n, and Teddy. The otherside was all music execs at Atlantic. Every song that played seemed to cause a visceral reaction for y/n. Mostly because it couldn’t have been more for her. He kept peering over at her and watching the way she sat in her seat. She couldn’t sit still at certain moments. He knew that ninety percent of all of her expressions came from her hands, and so she sat on them mid-way through. It was a lot to ask of her, and at one point he thought maybe it was too much. Maybe he shouldn’t have gone for the shock and awe and maybe he should have just left her out of it. But then, Fallin’ All In You comes on and her face lights up and he knows that he wouldn’t have it any other way. It was for her. And therefore she needed to be in that room if it was going to be the moment that changed his whole entire life.

The final song comes to a close and there’s a beat of silence where it feels like his heart might explode out of his chest. All these weeks with these songs in his head and his heart, when all he could think, breathe, eat, was about her in someway. All of it now was on a record that might seal his fate, might completely lead him to a new world outside of his dad’s control. Enter Andrew.

“So that is...without a doubt one of the best albums of the year.” He stated.

His eyes widened, heart plummeting into his stomach.

“Seriously?”

He nodded. “Absolutely. So here’s what I’m gonna do for you. I will happily sign you, Mendes Industries be damned. It’s burning a bridge, but the impact that you’re gonna have on the music industry will cover that tenfold. Atlantic is in. We want you. We want this record. Tell me what you need to make that happen.”

His lips parted in shock and he looked to none other than y/n as his brain completely stalled. In his moment of weakness she sprang up like a fucking gazelle and launched straight into a type of professionalism that made him both weak in the knees and frankly hard in the pants.

“I will be representing him in all legal proceedings until a permanent manager has been vetted by both me and the client. I will need the contract with all monetary gains to the record company highlighted and dotted. Either you can do that now or be rest assured that I will. We will not be doing a three-sixty deal. We are only interested in a one year contract contingent on the sales of the album, which you and I both know will come through based off the strategic marketing plan for a face like that. He will retain all final say on singles, album track lists, and production rights on this album as well as future albums though that can be negotiated at a later date with another contract. We will require a minimum of seventy-two hours to review and consult counsel before any negotiations continue. So would you like to email me, or do you have a physical copy ready for me?”

Andrew looked at y/n and then looked at Shawn. And then back to y/n. And then back to Shawn. He just shrugged and nodded back in her direction. His girlfriend had always been a complete and total badass afterall. He was kind of just there to look pretty and sing.

“I will...get that drafted for you right now. One moment.”

Andrew leaves the room and it’s like he can breathe for the first time. And the second enough oxygen gets to his brain he can’t help but remember that the sole reason for this moment is her. The only logical conclusion was to jump into her chair and smother her with love and affection the way that she deserved.

“You are literally a human golden retriever!” She gasped as he crawled into her lap.

His legs spilled out the arm of the chair as he wrapped her arms around her and squeezed. For added measure he licked her cheek to prove her point. She glared at him. Apparently she didn’t like it very much.

“Never. Again.” She wagged her finger at him.

“So this is what true love looks like huh?” Teddy asked from her seat.

Shawn simply looked at y/n and beamed happily.

“Yea.”

She rolled her eyes at him but nodded as well.

“Apparently. Now get off me honkey, I need to remain professional.”

“Yes dear!” He sing-sang climbing out of her seat.

Teddy simply continued to stare at the two of them in utter confusion.

“Oh she means in with love. A love rooted in the reality of a white supremacist country that will always prioritize my life and my worth over hers simply because I’m pale and have a dick. It works to off-set the power imbalance between us.” He explained. “And she’s just incredibly cute.”

Y/n looked over at him and grinned happily.

“That’s my guy.”

***

“So...You’re not signing with your father?” She asked him.

He nodded his head.

“And you quit your job?”

He nodded.

“And he cut you off entirely?”

Another nod.

“But you’re gonna sign with Atlantic who...according to this contract is going to pay you a premium of a hundred thousand dollars for your album, all to be paid back upon royalties of course. And you’re going to do an optional clause of two additional singles after that album?”

He nodded. “That’s what I hear.”

“And you’re not gonna go after your dad for your masters?”

“Nope. I’ve realized that I’d rather put energy into the now and into my future than to dwell on the past. Also I have a feeling if the album is successful that Atlantic might take him to court once I accidentally let it slip that there’s two hundred songs of material hiding somewhere.”

“And you made this decision...when?”

“Well...My girlfriend left me despite being just as in love with me as I was her.” He paused for dramatic effect and to take in the roll of her eyes that he’d missed so much. “And at first I was just gonna quit entirely. Music. The industry. All of it. But then I realized how much I really did care about it. And I thought that...If I was gonna say fuck it, I might as well go for it ya know? Just so there were no ifs. I’m cut off and my dad will probably never give me another dime so, might as well give the whole singer thing a try, right?”

Y/n stared at him, eyes wide and tired and maybe still a little soft.

“Of all the people in the world.” She sighed to herself. “Let’s get a few things straight. I won’t manage you. I will simply identify the correct path for you to be on and then move you there. I will pay myself a generous fee for this aid, but once we find you a manager I will do no work with you professionally.”

He smiled dumbly up at her. “And why is that, y/n? What could possibly stop you from doing any professional work with me?”

There was a fly on the wall. A building sized elephant in the room if you will. She had followed him into the fire, had held tightly to his hand in the flames, all without admitting that such a notion could only be rooted in love. But he knew. He knew more than anyone the way she’d opened up her heart to him. The way she let him make himself comfortable inside her being and her spirit. He knew that she loved him endlessly in the exact way that he loved her. The only thing left to do was to get her to admit it.

“Don’t make me say it.” She mumbled .

“I’ll say it for you then...You love me my darling. And I love you. And apparently nothing can tear us apart. Not even my dad who is like the cheesiest villain of all time.”

“I mean...Yes. Obviously.”

He chuckled. “Come here.”

She moved slowly into his lap. And for a moment he just held her. Wrapped his arms around her back and hugged her fiercely. He didn’t think that the world hugged enough, and he had this thought that if she let him he’d hug her every day for the rest of forever. Her head rested against his shoulder and her fingers danced in his hair. He was complete in every sense of the word.

“Why is it so scary to admit that you love me?” He asked her honestly. “Would it really be such a terrible thing?”

Her fingers tightened in his hair and she pressed a little closer against him.

“No. No it wouldn’t. It’s just scary to admit that I almost gave up on us for no reason. I can’t believe how naive and how dumb I must have been to believe I could ever be without you.”

He pulled back just enough to look into her eyes with that soft kind of fondness that made his bones feel like jelly.

“Really?”

She nodded. “You have to know that I only did it out of love. I knew you were it for me, and I knew that it would be the most painful thing I’d ever experienced, but I still had to do it. I knew that you loved music more than anything in the world and I just wanted you to have that.”

“Hey, I know. And I’m not angry at you.” He assured her, casually squeezing at her waist. “Just know that...music was the most important thing that’s happened to me in my whole entire life. But that was before I met you. And you don’t get to tell me that I can’t choose you, alright? No one does. You’re it. I’d pick you any second of any day, and I’d be more than happy with that decision. You don’t get to tell me not to love you.”

She bit her lip and stared at him with those big ole’ eyes of hers looking more like a scorned puppy than anyone had the right to.

“You know no one has ever spoken to me like that in all of my days right?”

“Yep. Looks like you were just waiting for me to come around. I promise I’ll make it worth it though.”

“Yea?” She grinned leaning close so that their lips hovered over one another’s.

“Yea. Let me show you.”

And he closed the distance between their lips.

Permanent taglist

@simpledomain @liliane106 @thecurlsofgod @lifeoftheparty74 @xeuphorically-moonstruck @euphoric05 @daijanicole @bruhh-whateven @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @decewill @goldiean @bitchacho25 @bruhh-whateven @justbeingoceana @loveylangdon @iloveshawnieboi @justbeingoceana @september-lace @valedictorian65 @disaster-rose @dimestorebieber22 @MixerMani @qcoachcartier @justbeingoceana @kamahriii @sinplisticshawn @disaster-rose

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#shawn mendes #shawn mendes smut #shawn mendes fandom #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes au #shawn mendes angst #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes series #shawn mendes oneshot #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes x y/n #shawn mendes x you #shawn mendes x black reader #shawn mendes x black woman #shawn mendes x black oc #shawn mendes non au

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dailyaudiobible · 3 years

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02/12/2021 DAB Transcript

Exodus 34:1-35:9, Matthew 27:15-31, Psalms 33:12-22, Proverbs 9:1-6

Today is the 12th day of February welcome to the Daily Audio Bible I am Brian it is wonderful to be here with you today as we continue the journey…well…we’re…we’re journeying toward the center of the second month of the year. We’ll be there in a few days. And, so, we are moving right along but we have…we have moved through some significant territory in the Bibl. And as we begin our reading today from the book of Exodus, we still find ourselves around the mountain of God, otherwise known as Mount Sinai. Just some really, really important things have happened and transpired. We read of this golden calf that the people decided to worship as their redeemer as their savior as the one who brought them out of Egypt. And we saw Moses come down from the mountain away from God's presence to discover all this, all that transpired there. Moses is back on top of the mountain again. Now he's been pleading for the people. God basically told Moses, “yeah, I can't deal with these people. I'm sending you to the land. You lead them in, but I'm not going.” And Moses is like, “if you don't go, if you don't go then I don't even want to be a part of this story. If you don't go, we have no hope.” And there’s this moment of real deep realization that there is no hope…hope outside of God, that we whether we acknowledge it or not we are utterly dependent upon Him. And, so, let's continue the story. Exodus chapter 34 verse 1 through 35 verse 9. And we’re reading from the Christian Standard Bible this week.

Commentary:

Alright. Let’s look at some words from the Psalms that we read today or the Psalm that we read today in light of what we’re seeing kind of both in the Old and the New Testament stories. The story in the Old Testament, of course, is God beginning to give the law, but the people's rebelliousness their stiff-necked, their neck…necked-ness…their…their stubbornness and their rebellion and their adultery spiritually by worshiping false gods and just all of this stuff that we…we’ve been able to witness.

In the New Testament we just completed the trial of Jesus, like, He’s sentenced to death, which is how…that's what we'll experience tomorrow. So, let’s just consider for second in these stories the posture of heart of humanity toward God.

So, in the Old Testament we have God invading Egypt to set His people free and all of the drama about that and they’re in the wilderness seeing and hearing from God and God is laying out a tapestry for a culture and yet they are stubborn, they are rebellious, they grumble, they complain, they are not grateful, and they are easily distracted into putting their hope and their allegiance and their heart into the worship of something false. And God is exasperated about it. Who wouldn't be? But He is patient, He is continuing forward with the journey despite their rebelliousness.

We go into the book of Matthew and then we look at the posture of humanity toward God and we see that these same people, like the descendants of this stiff-necked people, they want to do away with God while trying to defend God. But now they have this law, they’re trying to obey this, and it's turned into a power struggle of control over the people. They have to obey the rules. And then God comes in the flesh and they don't even recognize Him. In fact, they are so put out, they are so put off by Him and His ways that they don't…like it…that's how backwards it's gotten. I mean you would…we would say that God would display God's ways, right? He's God. So, that's what we’re seeing in Jesus. If they can't recognize the ways of God and they call him blasphemous and they call him of the devil, then they have so perverted the actual ways of God that it can’t even be seen anymore. And what do we see? God in the person of Jesus patiently taking out there giving. He is going to allow Himself to be killed by His people. That’s a pretty stark thing to think about. But could we maybe at this point in the year acknowledge what we’re seeing here and stop blaming God for things He doesn't do us and stop telling Him He doesn't understand what we’re going through? He does. And He patiently and carefully continues to love humanity until this very day, including us and our complaining and our lack of gratitude and our grumbling and our turning to something else for hope and our giving our allegiance and fealty to something that is false and our acting like a two-year-old and throwing ourselves on the ground and kicking and screaming when we don't get our way. God is patient and kind because He loves us. If we would ever actually get that through our heads it would change our very lives, it would change the way we behave toward everybody.

Prayer:

Holy Spirit come. Let us see this. Let us see Your kindness, let us see Your patience, Your compassion as we continue to navigate all of the different times and stories and people's lives that we find in the Scriptures because we find ourselves in…in…in these stories. We find ourselves in the lives of these people. And, so, open our hearts. Give us eyes to see and ears to hear what You are speaking to us and where You are leading. We acknowledge that You have been patient, beyond what we could ever deserve. You have been kind in the face of our unkindness. You have loved us even while we were Your enemies. Help that to sink in we ask in the name of Jesus. Amen.

Announcements:

dailyaudiobible.com is home base, it’s the website, it’s where you find out and stay connected to what's going on around here, so, indeed, stay connected in any way that you can, in any way that you want to.

Be familiar with the Community section of the app or the website. That's where the Prayer Wall is. That's where to get connected.

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If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible, you can do that at dailyaudiobible.com as well. There is a link on the homepage. I thank you humbly and profoundly for your partnership. If you’re using the Daily Audio Bible app you can press the Give button in the upper right-hand corner or the mailing address is PO Box 1996 Spring Hill Tennessee 37174.

And, as always, if you have a prayer request or encouragement you can hit the Hotline button in the app, which is the little red button up at the top or you can dial 877-942-4253.

And that's it for today. I’m Brian I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer and Praise:

Hello DAB family this is your friend your brother in Christ in Michigan. I want to say thank you to, so many. Your prayers have touched myself and my family in ways you can ever imagine, and we are praying for you all. I'd also like a prayer over my wife. She struggled with many many ailments now but fibromyalgia now followed by lupus and she has some problems with her liver. Through it all she's been upbeat and God fearing and showing me what it is to be a true believer. So, I ask that you raise her in your prayers as I raise all of you all in my prayers. I want to thank the DAB family. What a blessing to hear this every day. I am new. I've only been here since December 21st of last year but to say…I can't even describe the impact on my life, and I want to thank you. With love from Michigan. Bye now.

My name is Latasha and I'm calling from California. I need prayer in the way of my housing situation. I was placed on a housing program for homeless and disheveled men and children. It could be for anybody for that matter, but it's been going up and down. Sometimes I feel like I'm out of the loop. And I found out that my rent wasn't being paid. And now that I'm able to get a lower income of housing I'm being told by management here at the property that I need to hurry up and sign my lease when there are damages, i.e., a big old hole in the ceiling of the bathroom and the thermostat not working. It seems like these companies work together and they try to make the person like myself feel as though I'm crazy almost by saying that you have to hold off but then the other parties saying you have to hurry up and expedite. And I just don't know what to do. I'm at a complete and utter loss and I just need prayer. I need prayer so bad because I'm afraid of being homeless again. I'm afraid of my children finally being stable and it could be taken away from us. And I'm afraid bad because of my situation and circumstance maybe they believe that I'm not apt enough to understand clearly. I just need guidance and direction because I'm so tired. I'm so tired of being tired. And it hurts so bad to feel as though on this earth I am alone and by myself and mostly I'm just…

Hello Daily Audio Bible this is Janelle living in China and I wanted to call and say I am caught up. Yay. At one point last year I was over two months behind and now it is February 7th 11:37 AM in __ China and I am caught up. I just listened to today. That was all I had to listen to today. Yay. I also wanted to do a little bit of gratitude because I have not been doing much of that. So, Lord I thank you that I am living in China and I am able with the low cost of living that China has I am so grateful for my job even though it is stressful and I am trying to learn how to teach without any formal education. It's still an amazing journey and I'm so grateful for it. I am also, as strange as this may seem, grateful for Covid still happening in the US because my church, Church of the Highlands in Alabama, is now doing online small group classes and I can be in a small group. It's at 5:00 AM on Sunday but I can be in a small group. I will wake up for that. I just…I miss that so much and I am so grateful that I’m now able to get back into being in small groups with my church even though I'm living in China. It's amazing and I can't believe it. I’m…I'm in shock. I'm just odd that says even possible a possibility...

This is Whitney in South Florida and I'm here with my kids Finley, Levin, and Lenna and we just wanted to call. And mommy had heard a message from Jody from Arizona and she wanted prayers for her granddaughter Leslie. And we just wanted to let Jody know that we heard her prayer request and we are praying for Leslie and we are praying for that whole family and your daughters one year old as well. Just that their home would be safe and Leslie would feel…that Leslie would just feel Jesus comforting loving arms all around her and know that Jesus is King. And it happens that Ezekiel in his reading had the perfect words that maybe another kid to another kid could hear and he had a great prayer on February 7th, and it was just about the devil and that he has no place in our homes. And, so, we just pray that over Leslie just as Ezekiel did. And the kids wanted to tell Ezekiel one of their favorite parts about his reading and what is that you guys? Bye. Bye guys!

Hi neighbors it's Lisa the Encourager. I'm calling tonight because I really had God press upon my heart to share with you a bit of encouragement regarding the reading that Brian did a couple of…probably a week or so ago and it was about when the disciple asked Jesus, what is the greatest commandment. And, of course, Jesus replied back to love the Lord your guard with all your heart and your soul and all your mind. And then the second one was to love your neighbor as yourself. And I really embraced that I think it was a couple of years ago and that's when I started calling in and I'd refer to all of you as my neighbors, to remind me to love you as I love myself. And this year God pressed on my heart to share with you the first commandment and that is to love the Lord our God with all our heart our soul and our mind. And I really started thinking hard about that, like how…what would that look like in action. You know, of course we can say it with our words and our lips but in action. And the only thing that really only came to my mind and the Holy Spirit bless me with was your prayers. Your prayers to God shows the tremendous amount of love. Just think about when somebody calls into the Daily Audio Bible and they call out your name and you hear it and how much it just…it just warms your heart. Well, that's probably the feeling that God, when you call upon His name and you seek Him, and you pray daily. So, I just encourage you to show love God and put that to action, that first commandment, to love the Lord your God with all your heart and all your soul and all your mind.

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unblot · 4 years

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@tsukimyo: the pain’s excruciating & it tears his body in half, metaphorically. he’s never felt an exhaustion like this, never felt the magic wane from his body like this, in his life. it’s a different type of exhaustion, however; it’s the type that comes with the blood loss, the type that comes with using one’s unique magic enough times for a second overblot, the type where one feel like their legs could possibly give out from under them. the savanaclaw dorm head stands his ground, nonetheless, with his faith in diasomnia & savanaclaw coming back to aid them acting as his pillar.

malleus is beside him, bruised & battered just as he, but he has no time to dwell on that as a terrifying yet deafening roar nearly bursts their ear drums. the monster that they had been fighting nonstop since thirty minutes ago pressing a clawed foot down roughly enough to create severe cracks in the floor. it looks like nothing leona has ever seen, fights like nothing he has ever been prepared for. but the prince is prepared to momentarily join forces with his rival, with the person he finds warmth in. so, he protects him. “malleus!” he shouts, growls even, when he uses the last of his waning strength to shove the young lord out of the way. there are claws, razor-sharp & tinged with suspicious red liquid, swiping in their direction — there’s barely any time for panic, for distractions, so he raises his voice & shouts with all his might, despite the stinging & aching pain in his chest / despite the blood that stains & streams down his visage, pools at his sides, streaks down his legs.

“i am hunger! i a—“ but he never finishes for he fails to sidestep the heavy blow from the bright-eyed fury monster. it’s a hard hit to his ribcage, causing him to see black spots & for blood to splutter past his lips as he coughs violently ( they wrack his battered form, breathing becoming heavy for him & at this point, leona wonders still if it’s worth it ) , his entire body folding over in immense pain. leona can barely move at this point, his head throbbing as if someone is driving a sword tinged with fast-acting poison through his chest o’er & o’er again. his vision slips from him fully, pain strangling him in its vice grip, before he completely falls unconscious.

DESPITE THE INCREDIBLY DIRE SITUATION THEY’RE IN, malleus’s composure never falters. he has no fear of injury, death & he certainly has no fear of the beast before him. there’s an undeniable arrogance in that. & if malleus were a wiser man he would consider the consequences of such dangerous levels of courage. but he’s not a wise man. with all the lord’s notably exceptional qualities, he lacks something as simple as wisdom or fear. that will likely be his downfall in the end.

MALLEUS’ DOWNFALL COMES IN THE SHAPE OF A MAN, a handsome man with violently green eyes that rival none but his own. there’s a fierceness in those eyes now, a kind that malleus has never seen before. even in all the antagonism & anger leona has displayed to him, malleus has never seen such savagery, such desperation in the lion’s gaze. despite the fae normally enjoying the wildness of the other man, this particular look leaves him only unsettled & maybe...worried?

HOWEVER MALLEUS DOESN’T GET THE CHANCE to linger on whatever odd emotion he’s feeling as leona roughly shoves him out of harms way. the gesture triggers yet another incomprehensible emotion in the fae. his chest feels tight, reptilian eyes widening as leona takes the blow in his stead. malleus cries out, his voice slightly strangled as he nearly falls to the ground. ❛ kingscholar! --- ❜ in that moment malleus briefly wonders if this is what fear feels like.

THE ANSWER COMES AS SWIFTLY & INTENSELY as the question prompting it, coming forth as leona crumples to the ground before him. the next few moments seem to move in slow motion, the air still & silent as malleus’ heart drums loudly in his chest. he moves without thinking, his body practically advancing on its own as he rushes to leona’s side. lithe arms encircle the lion, a fierceness of his own overtaking malleus as he shields leona in his embrace. it’s a brief moment in which his arrogance has shifted into outright foolishness, forgetting the beast, the chaos around them & everything else except for the limp body in his arms.

❛ WHY? KING-- LEONA...WHY DID YOU--- ❜ malleus can’t even finish his own question, stricken with anguish, fear &...something else he can’t quite describe. in the end he knows why leona took the blow for him. after all those murmured words have not left the fae’s mind ever since the lion uttered them several months prior. malleus knows & yet...he has never understood the reason behind them. that confusion has never felt stronger than at this moment, holding his unconscious lover in his arms like the hero of an ancient tragedy. why would leona ever love him? what of malleus has ever been lovable? he cannot comprehend it. could someone really sacrifice their own life for him...simply out of love?

LEONA HAS ALWAYS BEEN DIFFERENT FROM THE REST. he is not bound by duty or obligation to be at malleus’ side. each moment they’ve spent together has been on their own volition. & while malleus fails to understand when lust became love, he has no doubt in his mind now that leona’s love is true. he also knows that the weight of this truth is more terrifying than the beast before them & anything else malleus has ever faced.

MALLEUS HAS NEVER BEEN CERTAIN OF HIS HEART. he never knew how to be. things like love have never really had the opportunity to present themselves in malleus’ life. & even after leona’s love had made itself known, the prince could never find the right descriptor for how he feels in return. therefore he hasn’t brought up leona’s confession & has since pretended he never heard it. it would be cruel to lord over something so intimate over leona’s head without having a proper answer. & malleus may enjoy teasing the other but he is not cruel & never has been.

BUT AS HE CLUTCHES THE FALLEN LION in his arms, tears falling from his eyes unbidden, malleus wonders. is this love? is this aching pain in his chest the result of that love? it’s unlike anything he’s ever felt before, more painful & more terrifying than any physical wound the beast could’ve inflicted on him. could this be what it feels like to have loved & lost? it can’t be. not when he hasn’t been able to tell leona, to finally accept that love that had been offered to him in the warmth of leona’s bed. he can’t lose leona yet...he won’t.

THERE’S A FLASH OF LIGHT, AN ANIMALISTIC CRY & then the moment of grief is gone, the beast lunging forth to deal a final blow to the pair of men. however the hit never comes as malleus hands --- no, his claws reach forth & take hold of the beast in a fierce grip. the fae’s vision is blurry, a sharp pain overtaking him as his body transforms before their very eyes. malleus cannot remember the last time he’d transformed from his humanoid form. he doesn’t care for how he feels as a dragon. he cannot wholly control himself nor can he maintain the raw power of his magic when in this form. & yet it was the lack of control in itself that has him shifting into his own beast. he hasn’t lost his control like this since he was a child.

EVEN AS MALLEUS TRANSFORMS, his body rising in the air as his wings sprout from his back, he does not release his hold on leona. in fact his grip only tightens on the lion as they both rise higher into the air. in his beastly state malleus cannot comprehend anything save for the primal need to fight & protect, along with this boiling hot anger unlike anything he’s ever felt before. green flames erupt from the dragon’s nostrils & mouth, flying through the air until it makes its mark across the other beast’s face.

STILL KEEPING A TIGHT HOLD ON LEONA, the monster lunges forward with an animalistic ferocity that malleus has so desperately tried to keep a lid on all these years. he can’t speak, he can’t think, he can’t do anything save for fight onward. had malleus been fully sentient at this time he would know he should still hold back. with how powerful his magic is & how unfortunately sensitive the man often can be, malleus is almost constantly at risk of overblotting. it’s only due to decades of training & control that malleus hasn’t lost himself in his own power. & in a way he does know that the path he’s headed down now in this fight will lead him down the dark path he’s dreaded all his life. but he doesn’t care. he won’t stop, can’t stop until the beast before him is vanquished.

IT DOESN’T TAKE LONG FOR THE BEAST TO FALL. whether it be due to the unbridled power malleus is using or simply the raw fury in his gate they will never know. what can be known is when the beast falls the fae falls shortly after, his figure shrinking until he is once again the man & not the monster. malleus can feel himself shaking as he keeps his hold on leona steady even now. behind him he can hear the sound of rushing footsteps. no doubt it’s lilia & the others returning with reinforcements. not that it’s needed anymore. the beast has fallen, nothing but a small charcoal colored cat lying unconscious in the grass.

ONE PAIR OF FOOTSTEPS DRAWS NEARER. malleus does not have to turn his head to know the identity of the person approaching him. the prince has known the light but purposeful strides of lilia vanrouge for practically as long as he’s been alive. a gentle hand places itself on malleus shoulder & it’s only then does the fae realize that he’s still crying. ❛ l - lilia...he saved me. please, please get him a healer. i don’t think he has much time. ❜

NOW IN THE PRESENCE OF SOMEONE HE TRUSTS, malleus finally releases his hold on leona, letting lilia take his lover somewhere safe. in the meantime he can hear the hurried footsteps of silver & sebek reaching his side. he can hear his guards’ frantic words but only faintly, as if malleus were somewhere off in the distance & far away from anyone around him. blood & tears streak his face as his vision goes in & out. he’d managed to stop before he’d reached the point of no return...but just barely. even so he had used a great deal more of his strength than he ought to in the last several minutes. this becomes evident as his own exhaustion takes hold of malleus, collapsing into the strong arms of his brother before going completely unconscious.

when he wakes up in the infirmary, he’s relieved to find leona sleeping soundly beside him.

#tsukimyo #violence //#blood //#ask to tag #long post #asks.#for only in the furious flames of your eyes has my coldblooded heart known warmth ( tsukimyo / malleona. )#interactions: malleus.#verse: canon.#hiiiii #this didn't exactly convey what i want but it did convey something i think #also i don't think we originally specified the monster but i had brainworms #anyway enjoy :)

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mbti-notes · 4 years

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Hello mbti-notes. I'm a very, very unhealthy INTJ. I have come to the realisation that I constantly try to deny and repress my emotional needs whenever I face obstacles in the world. As in, for example, if people find me unattractive, I detach from that triggering context and try to hamper down my need to be loved. If my mother treats me in a nasty way, I detach from her and go on a corner and try to hamper my need to feel approved by her. (continues, this is part 1)

[con’t: If I see that my classmates are better or more competent than me, I avoid contact with them & avoid going to class, and I don’t try harder with the materials or try to be more competent, I repress the need for that as if “I didn’t want it anyway” and “it doesn’t matter”, “makes no difference”, “it’s not meaningful”, but actually, and I can see it now, these things mean the world to me. I notice myself constantly thinking about what people have that I won’t have, like a successful high paying career. I dropped out of law school (I got into a good university) and can’t deal with the fact that I chose to switch to a more low paying, less competitive career to pursue. I feel like this choice was also the same dynamic of me pushing down my need for high achievement in the face of insecurity and obstacles. People around me see me as a wimp, someone who doesn’t contribute, doesn’t take responsibility, doesn’t integrate to the group, honestly it feels like people see me as a child and completely incapable, despite the fact that they do sometimes say I’m very intelligent (they mean academic intelligence, but not “real” intelligence). I feel like people treat me condescendingly and don’t take me seriously. I also feel an utter lack of life direction, I have no goals and no plans, and I’m at a point where I don’t give a sh*t and I’ve been more socially impulsive (like jokester behavior, class clown) and reckless about my reputation, missing deadlines, appointments, loosing track of what’s going on around me and what I need to do. Is this congruent with Fi loop and Se grip? I still don’t see how I can use Ni+Te to grow out of it, I can see it in the abstract, but not concretely.]

No, it is not at all congruent with Fi loop and Se grip, which is why Te is not the solution, in fact, trying to develop Te is very likely to exacerbate the problem. Your thought patterns fit quite perfectly with: unhealthy Ni (faulty/perfectionistic beliefs), overindulgence of Fe (constant focus on impressing/approval, low self-worth, guilt, shame), Ti loop (harmful rejection of feelings, lack of self-awareness, destructive attitude), and Se grip (extreme loss of control, recklessness, superficiality). Why do you believe that you are intj? Did you undergo a proper type assessment? If not, you should. There is a clear warning in the Type Dev Guide that you should not take advice of the wrong type.

Every decision you have made is part of Ti loop in denying your true feelings, to the point that life becomes meaningless, i.e., you must come to reject everything in the world because everything eventually serves to remind you of your “worthlessness”. If you are F, constantly acting contrary to your feelings is the direct road to despair. You don’t understand the difference between feelings and emotions, so you end up ignoring important feelings that would guide you in the right direction and then indulging the resultant negative emotions in the wrong direction. Do you honestly believe that your decisions have been rational? If you are in Ti loop, you will believe it for quite some time, and it will require hitting rock bottom or a personal disaster for you to realize how irrational you’ve really been. You say that you have a need to achieve (Ni), why do you not respect that need and even fail on purpose? You say that you have a need to be loved and approved of (Fe), why do you purposely act in ways that destroy social connection or get disapproval? You keep trying to lay the blame “out there” in how people judge/perceive you when it was actually your own bad decision making all along that brought you here - this is the hallmark of deep-seated Ti loop.

The way to get out of Ti loop is to finally take responsibility for your life instead of blaming something/someone else for your feelings of guilt and failure. Oftentimes, unhealthy INFJs don’t want to try because they are afraid that they’ll fail to live up to their self-imposed “ideal” and then have no excuses left to ward off the shame/guilt that they’re running from. It’s very easy to think highly of yourself when your success/greatness exists only in your own mind and you’re able to fool yourself into believing that it’s the world holding you back (Ni-Ti loop), but it’s hard to keep up the arrogance when you’re constantly slapped with hard evidence of your social failures (Fe-Se reality checks).

In many ways, you still have the mentality of a toddler. You expect that everything should be like your fantasy, i.e, the one place where you don’t have to feel bad about yourself. You haven’t yet realized that the reason you feel bad is precisely because you wrongly believe that being “special” is the answer to your low self-worth, so you fish for praise/approval by proving your “specialness” in childish ways, only to fail often because your motives are fake or superficial. A truly successful person is HUMBLE and works hard to build a good life for themselves. They don’t waste time thinking about being “special”, rather, they simply work hard to actualize their potential because they want to make the most out of their life. You are arrogant, not humble, because you fear being ordinary/nothing and thus mistake humility for mediocrity. You are obsessed with feeling “better than” because you judge yourself as “less than”. Successful people don’t waste time with these sorts of petty “status” calculations because they’re not chasing empty markers of success to cover up low self-worth.

To find purpose and meaning in life for infjs is a simple matter of nurturing loving relationships and making positive contributions to whatever environment they happen to be in. Perhaps you live in a socially/emotionally harsh environment, which is not your fault, but you can either choose to play the dog-eat-dog game, or you can choose to live a good life for the sake of your own well-being. So far, you seem to keep choosing the former, which means that you must try to be “top dog” in order to call yourself “worthy”. Do you not realize that “worthiness” isn’t about proving yourself better than people? Do you honestly think that something as pure as true happiness can come from something so impure as judging and categorizing people according to their lack of “worth”?

A truly worthy person is one who actually lives a morally good life. Living a morally good life is hard work and it isn’t likely to get you immense praise and recognition. If the only reason you want to be “good” is to alleviate the shame that you feel for low social status, then you’ve missed the point entirely. A mature person takes responsibility for their life by asking themselves what kind of person they want to be and then they work hard to become it. Their sense of good comes from the self and emanates positively out into the world through morally congruent action. An immature person asks what behaviors will get them praise/approval and then they try to be like that (i.e. level 1-2 ego development). Their sense of good is easily twisted and destroyed by social pressures.

Looping infjs often look down on others for being superficial in craving social status, but it is they themselves who actually care about status the most due to low self-worth - that’s why they must work so hard to convince themselves that they don’t care, which only makes them care even more. Ti loop turns you into a barking hypocrite and that is where the self-loathing actually comes from. You harm yourself by denying yourself and your goodness to chase after feelings of superiority - very common problem among NFs. To chase after feelings of superiority necessitates that you constantly think of yourself as inferior, which makes it impossible to have healthy self-esteem. How can you be happy when you constantly treat yourself so badly? As long as you think in terms of oversimplistic dichotomies of superiority/inferiority or strong/weak, then you also cannot have healthy relationships. Healthy relationships are based on equality between people and mutual respect and appreciation. In short, you sabotage your own happiness with your obsession on being “special” (read: superior), because this makes it impossible for you to develop Fe properly.

All of your functions need development. Healthy Ni means to always act with your mind attuned to visualizing future implications - yet you choose not to care about the consequences of your decisions nor fight for your future self’s well-being. Healthy Fe means to carve a space for yourself to belong and contribute everywhere you go - yet you choose not to because you can’t tell the difference between praise and love and then chase after the wrong feelings to cover up your insecurities. Healthy Ti means to make rational judgments and decisions according to the facts - yet you stubbornly hang on to faulty beliefs about “how the world works” and even take twisted pride in flouting the rules you don’t like, intent on believing that they don’t apply to you despite negative repercussions. Healthy Se means to adapt well to change by embracing it and making the most of what you have - yet you fear change and run from it with all your life. I’m not a magician, I can’t wave a wand and change you. You can’t depend on others to tell you what to do. You have to commit yourself to being a better person and make better decisions by making better use of your functions, starting from top to bottom, because you care about living life well for your own sake.

**If you suffer from serious depression and/or anxiety and it hampers your ability to live life normally, I strongly suggest that you get professional help.

#infj #ti loop #se grip #guilt #shame #nf #ask

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chubbyheroesworthyheroes · 4 years

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Oh, wait, that should have been Xander + 🐷. Sorry.

I got you, Nonnie!

Being the crown prince of Nohr was no easy task.

Xander was highly aware of his luck in life compared to those that lived on the harsh streets of Nohr’s cities; he did not want for food or shelter, and he had access to healers and teachers. But, still, there was a price to pay for his station. The weight of the country had long since been set upon his shoulders, and as next in line, Xander had been forced to grow into that expectation. He had done his utmost to always please his father where possible, and to show the people that he was a worthy ruler – once his time to take the throne arrived, of course.

Xander had spent much of his youth training his mind and body, learning any and all skills that were deemed beneficial to have in his arsenal as future king. He didn’t have a talent for magic or even any supremely impressive strength as a boy, so he’d had to strive for every achievement he’d made in life. It had been difficult at times, but it was worth it to know that he would be a capable leader to the people and country he so dearly loved.

Still, in spite of how Xander did his best to be what his country and people needed, some were impossible to please. The courts were a battlefield on all levels, and rarely did courtiers play fair. Nohr was all about getting as far up as you could, no matter what sorts of dirty tactics you had to employ. And, if the heir to the throne was somehow…no longer considered viable to the King, that could open up doors for others waiting to pounce at the chance.

Hexes were rather prevalent in Nohr, after all, and so very difficult to trace…

It had been the usual affair with the courts. A gala, one of the many excuses for the elite to throw a party. His father, Garon, wasn’t one for these sorts of events – not unless it was actually important – so the duty of making a showing from the royal family fell to Xander. Socializing wasn’t something the crown prince took any pleasure in, but he handled it like any other duty – even if he would rather be looking after his younger siblings, and helping them find their way in the complex life of Nohrian royalty.

The night dragged on horrendously. It was all empty chitchat and baseless rumors from nobles, hanging off his arm and nipping at his heels every time he thought he’d gotten away. Xander kept his head, though, doing his best to placate without actually giving them the attention they craved for whatever verbal trap they were attempting to set.

Of course, working through the mire of conversations was bad enough, but many courtiers did their best to ply information or favors out of him with food and drink. They didn’t let up at all that night, and while the portions were small, Xander could feel his stomach gurgling with the discomfort of bloat after too many politely accepted plates or glasses.

One of the ladies must have caught on to his slight discomfort, giggling conspiratorially and handing him a thin glass with a pink, bubbling drink. She tittered on about how she often overate at these sorts of events, too, but that she always knew what drinks to look for in order to quell an unsettled stomach. Xander forced an appreciative smile onto his face, and dutifully drank from the glass as the woman winked and left to go talk the ear off some other nobleman. The drink fizzled strangely in his mouth and down his throat, making his eyes water the faintest bit as he finished it. It was cloyingly sweet in its flavor, almost to the point of Xander fearing he’d become ill right then and there, before a heavy, calming sensation hit his roiling gut. Sighing in relief as the bloated feeling started to recede, Xander continued with his duty of small talk.

It wasn’t until later in the night, perhaps an hour or two after drinking that bubbly liquid, that Xander felt something was very, very wrong.

The gala was in full swing, not even that late into the night, when the prince found himself spacing out during conversations. Highly unusual behavior, even in the times where he was exhausted, Xander was quick to excuse himself when he realized he couldn’t recall a single thing that had been said to him in the past few minutes. Walking slow and steady through the glamorized mass of nobility, Xander made it out into one of the hallways without any real issue – despite the way his head felt as if it were filled with fuzz, and his limbs moved sluggish and clumsy. Leaning against the wall, he took several steadying breaths – and was immediately assaulted with the overwhelmingly delectable scents that were coming from the kitchens.

Elegant in their own right, as most things were that Garon took pride in, the castle’s kitchens were a sight to behold. A bustling, culinary city within its own walls; Nohr lacked a great many things when it came to food, but procuring items and those who knew how to cook them best for his own personal kitchen was something the King seemed to take pleasure in collecting. Whether by fair payment or by force, they were never wanting at the royal tables.

The courts glutted themselves among fine furs and jewels, while many of the common folk eked out a brutal living in the dark and the dirt.

Xander had never been exceptionally keen on this particular perk of royal life, but right now, he found himself inexplicably drawn to the smell of rich, succulent food. His feet were moving with hardly a thought from himself, a strange desperation rising in him – as if he were starving, hadn’t eaten in days, though he knew that couldn’t be right after everything he’d already eaten that night.

The kitchen was warm – almost stiflingly so – as he entered, staff hurrying about to keep up with the demands of the party-goers. Their work didn’t end until everyone had gone for the night, of course. So busy were they, in fact, that they barely noticed the prince stumble in. With his hands pressed harshly against his rumbling stomach, as if applying enough pressure could silence the noises, Xander nearly whimpered at the amount of food before him. Fresh ingredients, food in the process of being cooked, and dishes waiting to be brought out to the nobility milling about several rooms away.

The hunger suddenly spiked to a painful lurch in his gut, and despite the voice in the back of his head, telling him that it would be wrong to do so, Xander found himself reaching for one of the set plates of food. There was plenty to go around, one part of his brain told him, it wouldn’t be missed if he took one or two things just to get him passed this strange onslaught of hunger. He just needed a little something to quiet his stomach, and then he could return to the gala. The prince grabbed something small, something that should have been enough – but as soon as he took a bite of the sweet, sugar-topped tart, everything spiraled completely out of control. His focus seemed to narrow down to just the food in front of him, and he couldn’t stop himself from attacking the dishes like his life depended on it.

It was a flurry of desperate gluttony, perfectly manicured hands soon becoming messy as he haphazardly grabs food and shovels it into his mouth, similarly dirtying his face and the front of his clothes as he does so. Plates clatter and tip over and off the table they’re set on in his haste to eat, and while this doesn’t immediately catch the attention of the staff in the already noisy kitchens, the prince’s presence doesn’t remain unnoticed forever.

In his ravenous state, Xander doesn’t notice the way his features were changing, morphing with every bit of food sloppily shoved into his mouth.

With every mouthful of food or drink gulped and swallowed down, his toned stomach seemed to bulge out, unable to hide for long against the extravagant clothes he was wearing for the evening. They had just enough looseness earlier in the evening that Xander had been quite comfortable, but, as his body started to bloat and inflate with supple fat, the tunic and trousers were quickly becoming too tight against him. With the noise and mess he was making, it didn’t take long for the cooks and other staff to notice him, but outside of voicing their shock, they were at a loss for what to do; seeing the crown prince gorge himself without a care in the world was bizarre enough, but seeing him transform right before their very eyes was something else entirely.

Ties on his shirt were snapping against the burgeoning pressuring of his fattening breasts, the hem of his tunic steadily rising over his swelling stomach – having untucked from the expanding flesh taking up more and more space before it simply couldn’t hold back the weight of it anymore. His trousers, having been a close fit previously, weren’t holding up much better; seams tearing open helplessly to expose the plush flesh of his ass and thighs.

Above the plump swell of his ass, where the waist of his trousers had been forced down on fat hips, a curly pig’s tail pokes out of his tail bone. Among curly, blond hair, pale ears flop down against his skull; the tips managed to get in the way as he continued to glut himself, staining the pale pink skin with food debris and sauces. His face – a complete, sloppy mess of food at this point – slowly but steadily pushed out into something akin to a pig’s upturned snout.

Of course, he ran out of food after a while, and as soon as he did, the mad rush of trying to cram whatever he could into his mouth was broken. Seeing the utter mess and embarrassment of himself, Xander felt his chubby cheeks heat up with shame. Luckily, it had been a relatively small amount of people who had seen him acting like…well, like a pig, and it would be easy enough to deny any rumours as nothing more than unflattering hearsay from castle staff. But, if this was some sort of magic, that would mean getting the spell reversed by one of Nohr’s skilled magic users. And, of course, to do something like that, it meant groveling to his father.

Xander couldn’t stifle a nervous, piggish squeal at the thought of his father seeing him in such a disastrous state. He was sure there would be hell to pay for having fallen for such an easy ploy to begin with, but extra on top for coming out of the entire ordeal looking like a fat pig…

#Anonymous #male weight gain #male wg #pig transformation #pig tf #chubby!xander

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merakiaes · 5 years

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He Who Waits - Bucky Barnes

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Requested: Kind of

Warnings/notes: Mentions of smut? This is part two of the prologue-series for ‘Just Daddy’, it shows their first time being intimate. No smut, so it sucks. I didn’t have time to get into it seeing as I have a few more parts to write, but feel free to request other smut imagines.

Wordcount: 1866

Summary: Your first time being intimate with Bucky. Part 2 of the prologue-series for ‘Just Daddy’ that you can read here. Part 1 of the prologue-series you can read here. Can be read as standalone!

Following your first interaction with James Buchanan Barnes, although very brief, you had hit it off immediately. Or well, as much as you possibly could when you were pretty much polar opposites of which one was the biggest, most uncomfortable and awkward loner of them all.

It took a while to get him to open up, and even when you were closing in on your one year anniversary, he was still very quiet and reserved, and not to mention: guarded. But he had his reasons, you understood that. You had never spoken openly about his time with HYDRA, but you knew the basics of what he had been through, courtesy of Steve filling you in long before you had even met him.

It was because of his time as a lethal weapon of destruction that you had to take it slow, and you found yourself conflicted about the whole situation.

While you understood why he wanted to take it slow, and why he was the way he was, you had needs; and you wanted them to be satisfied at once. And that, in turn, made you feel awful. You didn’t want to pressure Bucky. You wanted him to set the pace and be able to feel like you weren’t getting tired of holding off.

You knew that, if the roles had been reversed, you would’ve felt bad, to say the least, if you found out your partner didn’t feel satisfied with your relationship because you were taking it too slow. So, you could only imagine how bad someone who’s been through as much as Bucky would feel if they ever found out.

What you didn’t know, was that he was better at reading people thank you ever would have thought, him apparently having known ever since the start that the slow pace was frustrating to you and that you wanted to experience all of the things a relationship usually brought with it.

But it was hard for him. Every time you touched him, he was afraid that something would snap in his head and he would hurt you, and he knew that if he ever got to see you in such a vulnerable, exposed and intimate way that you oh so much craved to be in, he would lose every sense of self control that he still held over his body.

And if that ever happened, the chances of you getting away if he suddenly went back into the super soldier, trained assassin mode, would be slim to none. He was scared of the things he was capable of if the situation called for it. He knew you could handle yourself. Oh, man, did he know it. But you would be no match to him if the Winter Soldier part of his brain was suddenly triggered.

Because of this, you still hadn’t had sex. Almost a year into your relationship, and you had yet to move on from first to second base. In other words, you had gone further with Tyler Collins in fifth grade. And no matter how much you loved Bucky and would never leave him for such a silly thing, you wanted more.

So, as you woke up on a Saturday morning at nine o’clock like any other day, you decided you would talk it out with Bucky and find out if there was anything you could do to make him feel more comfortable about getting intimate.

He visibly tensed as you first brought the subject up where you sat together in the couch in his bedroom, watching TV in silence. His hands had instantly stopped caressing soothing circles on your shins where they laid in his lap.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He had only told you lowly, eyes never wavering from the screen on the wall in front of you as his metal fingers anxiously started tapping on your bare leg.

“But you wouldn’t.” You protested, pulling your legs out of his lap to move closer to him. “I know you wouldn’t.”

His eyes fell shut at the sensation of your hand coming to cradle his cheeks, the familiar fluttering of butterflies instantly filling his chest and stomach, recognizing the feeling of your skin against his like no other.

He didn’t say anything else as you moved to straddle his thighs, both of your hands now on either side of his stubbly face. His hands flew up to grab your hips, keeping them in place when you suddenly ground down on him, his breath hitching in his throat and a warm feeling creeping up his neck at the new feeling.

“Don’t.” He muttered, but the way his hands were squeezing your sides, his face falling down to bury itself in the crook of your neck, said entirely otherwise, his body reacting immediately when you rolled your hips once more.

You slowly brought his face up to yours, wasting no time in pulling him into a sweet, slow kiss. Your lips moved in sync for a good minute before you dared to push the tip of your tongue through the barrier that was his lips, taking the fact that he hadn’t pulled away despite clearly being aware of your intentions as a good sign.

Letting your hands move from his face to his hair, you felt his grip on your hips getting stronger, but never enough to hurt you. A low moan slipped past your lips and into his mouth at the feeling of, although probably accidentally, being pressed harder down onto his lap.

The quiet but very clear sound seemed to wake him up from his trance then, making him retreat quicker than he ever had before. You had to resist the urge to whine out loud at the sudden loss of his lips against you.

You went in to attach yours to his again, too caught up in the moment to even think about the fact that he might actually not be wanting it. But you got your answer nonetheless when he didn’t resist your move.

This time he kissed you back properly, his hands slowly and hesitantly moving up your sides, taking your shirt with them. You shivered slightly at the feeling of his metal fingers grazing the skin of your waist, the feeling being unfamiliar but strangely exciting.

Bucky, however, seemed to take it as a very bad sign, as he let go of your body so quickly you might as well have been the plague, or on fire. And this time you actually did whine out loud, but Bucky didn’t seem to hear it.

His breathing was ragged from the intense make out session you had been in only a second before, but now his eyes were hard with a mixture of panic and self-hatred. “I told you we shouldn’t have done this.”

“You didn’t hurt me.” You hurried out with a shake of your head, before snickering slightly. “Your fingers were just colder than I expected.”

He seemed to relax a little at the sound of your voice and words of reassuring, but he still wasn’t convinced. You could see it in his eyes.

Caressing his lip with your thumb gently, you leaned your forehead against his. “Look, I’m sorry. I never meant to make you feel pressured into doing something you’re not ready for. I just, I want you to know that I trust you completely, and even though you might feel otherwise right now, I know you would never hurt me. When the time comes that you’re ready to, you know, go the whole way, I would tell you if you were doing something I didn’t like.”

You felt bad now, as you looked down on his conflicted expression. You never meant to make him feel bad. But unbeknownst to you, those simple sentences made him realize you were right, and before you knew it, his lips were back on yours.

Pushing back the shock, you quickly seized the opportunity in fear that it would end, bringing your hands back up to tangle in his hair, pulling at the strands softly. A low rumble arose in the back of Bucky’s throat at the feeling, your body reacting immediately and grinding you down on him.

Seeming to doubt his decision as he felt his own body react to the feeling, Bucky pulled out of the kiss briefly to look at you, eyes more than a few shades darker than their usual color.

When seeing his questionable expression, you nodded your head slightly. “It’s okay.”

Bucky kept his eyes on you for a second, before finally nodding his head too, uttering out a soft and quiet “Okay.” of his own, before slowly beginning to move you down on the couch, positioning his own body above you all while locking his lips with yours.

You let him hover above you between your legs, already starting to feel the arousal tingling all the way from your chest to your core with the way his jeans were rubbing against you. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you pulled him closer, moaning quietly at the feeling of the newfound friction as you rubbed against him.

Bucky’s hands settled on your waist under your shirt like moments before and let you set the pace, clearly not wanting to do something you didn’t want him to. Taking his lack of protest as a sign to go on as you brought your hands under his t-shirt to trace his stomach, you proceeded to slowly raise his shirt over his head, throwing it to the floor.

He, in turn, took this as a sign that you were really sure, and finally took matters into his own hands and did the same to you, cold metal fingers leaving goosebumps in their wake as they caressed your shirt off your body.

Moving his lips from yours to leave a trail down your chin and to your neck, he mumbled into your skin. “Just tell me if you want to stop, or if I hurt you. Please.”

You squeezed your eyes shut tightly at the feeling, nodding your head, not trusting your voice to speak in that moment. With that simple act of confirmation, something seemed to awake in Bucky that he hadn’t felt in a long while.

Wasting no time, he started trailing one of his hands down your now bare stomach as he kept leaving open-mouthed kisses in the crook of your neck, his other hand moving up to behind your back to unclasp your bra.

Your stomach tingled at his sudden change of demeanor, enjoying the new kind of attention you were getting, to say the least. Soon enough you were both stark naked in that couch, clothes littered all over the floor, and your minds clouded with a feeling none of you had felt in way too long as you engaged in your first, but certainly not last, time together.

If only you’d had known that all it took for you to get through to him was to bring up the subject and give him some short words of encouragement, you wouldn’t have waited for so long. But you knew what they say; he who waits for something good, never waits too long.

Tagged: @breatheeagainnnn @abswritesfandoms

(Sorry again if you don’t want to be tagged, just tell me in that case. I just thought you’d like it since you were the ones who asked for the prologues!)

#avengers one shot #avengers imagine #avengers x reader #avengers #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #marvel one shot #marvel #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #james buchanan barnes

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morganas-pendragons · 5 years

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Daddy | T.S. + Daughter!Reader

This is based off of that clip that RDJ released of that alternate scene with Tony and Peters reunion. I haven’t written a daughter reader in a while, and I’ve been inspired to use Goodbye by Avril Lavigne in a fic for a while. Feedback is always appreciated.

tagging: @ursae---majoris

The lyrics of a song he used to sing to you as a child echo in your mind as you charge across the battlefield at Peter Parkers side.

Goodbye.. Goodbye.. Goodbye my love

I can’t hide, I can’t hide, I can’t hide what has come

He was an Avril Lavigne fan. Figures that he’d like the most heart wrenching song she’d written, but to you it was always the song that Daddy sang before you went to sleep.

It hasn’t been very long since you were on Earth, but according to what you’d seen written across the faces of the Avengers on the front lines, it had been years.

To Tony, it had been lifetimes.

You would never forget the look of utter devastation on your fathers face when he was losing two kids as a consequences to Thanos snap. You and Peter - who was only a few years younger then you - weren’t even supposed to be in space, but here you both were anyway.

Peter went first. The uneasy feeling in your stomach intensified as darkness swam in your vision and the only thing visible to you was the concerned features of your father. He looked so old, so worn down, so consumed by his grief.

You don’t deserve this, Dad.

“D-Dad?” Your voice broke mid sentence as you stumbled towards Tony, hands extended outward as you often did as a toddler when you wanted his attention. Your legs were the first to give out as he sank to the ground with you in his embrace.

“Hey, don’t you worry sweet pea-” The longer he talked, the more you knew it was more of a reassurance for himself instead of you. “Everything is going to be okay.” Tony recognized the fear overwhelming your expression and furrowed his brow. He’d been there plenty of times himself, on the brink of greeting Death, but he’d never been as terrified as he was watching his biological child experience the same thing. It’s not fair. “Y/N, look at me.”

Worn hands cradled your jaw and tilted your chin just enough to look into the onyx eyes of your father. The very same man who had once rejected your conception and had spent years trying to alienate you for fear he’d turn out to be just like his own father, an utter disgrace to the Stark name. It wasn’t what you deserved. All it had taken for him to fall completely in love with his little girl was the day he and Pepper had taken you to the carnival when you were barely five years old, and you’d gripped his hand so tightly and grinned at him so widely that he was sold. He rode every ride with you that day and carried you to bed that night.

Tony hadn’t let go of you since.

He was at an utter loss for words as you struggled to keep yourself composed, very well knowing what was coming next. The part where he was going to be forced to let you go.

“Y/N-”

You only had one thing to tell him. One thing to show just how you felt about everything that’s happened over the last two years since Siberia. The last time he came home and you sat by his bedside every day that he recovered.

Tony cradled you to his chest in a desperate hold. You knew he had intended to never let go, but the universe had other plans for you.

“I’m sorry Daddy.” The last thing Tony saw before you disappeared from his hold entirely was the crash of your Arc Reactor pendant into the hot sand of Titan.

But now here you stand fighting against a villain unlike any that the Avengers had fought before, and in the midst of it all, you sought out your father. Your safe place from the darkness of the real world, your best friend, your hero. He was how you’d win against Thanos.

“Hey, hey Y/N! There’s your dad!” Peter Parker hastily dragged you through the rubble of the Avengers Compound in the direction of your father, who was still oblivious to your presence. The youngest Avenger had sought you out in the time you’d been dusted, and after quite some time of getting to know one another, looked up to you as a role-model. Someone he respected as much as he did Tony, despite the lack of years between you both.

Peter ran forward first. You were frozen in place, hair veiling your mildly terrified expression as you awaited his reaction to seeing both you and his protege having returned from the dead. Their exchange was drowned out by the sounds of battle raging on around you, but your eyes never tore away from Tony.

Then his eyes met yours, and it was like everything fell into place.

“Y/N-”

You sprinted through the debris and flung yourself at your father despite the fact you were wearing your Iron Maiden armor he’d made for you just before you’d been pulled into this intergalactic mess. He’d been so excited to see you wear it - his pride and joy embodied in his legacy - that he’d let you name it. Neither of you were disappointed when you chose his favorite band.

“Daddy-”

Tonys breathing hitched as he wound his arms around your middle, stunned by the mere fact that you were here and alive - and you had no clue he’d married Pepper, let alone that you had a baby sister waiting for you at his countryside cabin. A cabin he’d never return to, a home that hadn’t been home long enough.

“My girl.” He bent his head and brushed a kiss to your temple just as Pepper flew overhead in the Rescue Armor. “I missed you.” You take that moment to remember how it feels to be around your father - safe - before you pried yourself away from him and disappeared inside the armor.

“Can we kill Thanos now? I am dying for a cheeseburger. Parker doesn’t even know what a good cheeseburger looks like, let alone tastes like.”

The laughter you elicited was something you hadn’t heard in years, but you wish Pepper had been present so she could hear just how beautiful it sounded. “Sure, sweetpea. We’re gonna kill Thanos,” He wrapped his hands around your shoulders and also disappeared back into his armor. “The world’s gonna need its next Iron Maiden.”

You never had time to ask him what he meant before the two of you were pried apart and the battle raged on. You marched alongside the women of the Avengers, you met Carol Danvers (who you adored from the minute she said, “I don’t even have to ask if you’re Stark’s kid. You act just like him!”) and took control of the skies beside Rescue until the enemies crumbled and their ashes were blown away by the wind.

The lyrics to the song still echo in your head when you and Pepper find him. Rhodey was there, as he always was, lingering in the background with unshed tears in his eyes as the other Avengers moved forward. You’d won, but at what cost?

“Y/N. Come here.” Pepper motioned you forward with a wave of her hand, having used her body to block whatever was occurring in front of her. It wasn’t until you saw the charred skin and the vacant look in his eyes that reality slapped you hard - Your father had been the one to beat Thanos.

The cost had been his own life.

“He wants you to sing to him.” She whispered, hand resting on your shoulder as you knelt between his parted legs. Tony was still breathing. He was still alive and he could still hear you. “Sing him to sleep, baby.” Your chest constricted as you wrapped your hands tightly around his ankles. The knot in your throat was making it difficult to speak, and if you lifted your gaze to watch your father die, you would come undone at the seams.

Coming undone to the words of a melody that would haunt you for the rest of your life was nothing compared to Tony Stark finally finding peace. If it was peace he wanted, it was peace he’d have.

So you cleared the knot in your throat, and you began to sing, “I have to go, I have to go, I have to go, and leave you alone..” You missed the way his eyes lit up and his lips turned upward in the ghost of a smile. “But always know... Always know.. Always know, that I love you so, I love you so.”

Tony took Peppers hand, she took your own, and together the two of you rested them against the light of the Arc Reactor until it flickered out. He was gone. He was gone and had left you with all the tools you’d need to continue living out his legacy. To uphold the Stark Name.

The world was gonna need its next Iron Man. Or Iron Maiden, whichever you’d prefer.

#Tony Stark #Tony Stark x Reader #Tony Stark x Daughter!Reader #avengers: endgame #Marvel fanfiction #Marvel fanfic #Marvel oneshots #Marvel imagines #Tony Stark x Y/N #Tony Stark x You #Iron Man x Reader #Iron Man x You

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amwritingmeta · 5 years

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14x14: Dean and Cas and Questioning the Status Quo

Note: I found this in drafts and I believe I chopped it into smaller pieces, but I thought I’d post the whole long thing because it actually ties back to the lack of communication currently happening in S15 and the need to shake up the status quo. By, you know, someone actually speaking words. And the other, you know, actually listening. :)

Let’s take a closer look at this, because it warrants a closer look, or so I’d like to argue: these two idiots are (and Sam too but Dean and Cas more prominently so in this ep) locked in a status quo that is informed by Dean’s inability to stop believing that what he wants is something he can’t have.

Know what I mean?

Now, I think the dance around this fact in 14x14 is quite elegant, way I see it, and though what exactly the gorgon represents is up for interpretation, the simple facts are:

Noah the gorgon in and of himself is a snake symbol, and per the ouroboros of the title, the snake symbolism in 14x14 might be leaning towards renewal, rebirth and a conjoining of opposites rather than, you know, the snake that brought knowledge to mankind and helped us rebel........ Yeah, kinda good either way you look at it, no?

Noah also Biblically brought the flood, which is a mighty symbol of rebirth, so he’s this double-edged sword where both edges spell renewal

Noah looks at you, assesses you and sees the truth of you, established with the truck driver, his note to Dean and with Jack - a bit of a narrative tie to Michael in 14x01, who blasted onto the scene reading the truth of people’s motivations left and right, and subtle foreshadowing of how Michael will shed Dean and go looking for a new skin *shudder’

Noah enjoys both men and women (yes indeed bisexual symbol and nope I am not the first to point this out of course)

That’s the basic makeup of Noah’s demi-god character, yeah?

Now a bit of a look at the interaction we have in the episode between Dean and Cas. (I have a very strong urge to refer to them as nothing but the two idiots for the rest of this post but) (I shall not)

1. Invisible Cas (and Jack)

It’s rather striking. The first image we get of Sam and Dean breaking through that door together, and alone, only for a mirror moment to come barely a minute later of them doing the exact same thing, only now Cas (and yes, Jack) is stepping through the door with them. *goosebumps all over*

What does it mean? Could mean a host of things. To me?

Well, Noah can’t see angels. Right? Fair enough, he can’t see either Cas or Jack so it’s not like Cas is special here, not really, but what does Noah represent? I talked briefly in an ask about whether he’s representative of toxic masculinity and how I don’t think he is.

He’s submitting to his fate, isn’t he? He’d rather not, but for survival’s sake, he doesn’t really have a choice. He’s performing ritualistic killings because that’s what’s expected of him. He’s not taking any real pleasure from it. Not very toxic, especially when compared to Michael the Dick Archangel, who breaks his promise to Rowena and slaughters the innocent’s of the bunker without mercy.

I would say Noah is more likely to be representative of suppression/repression, predominantly suppression in Dean, because oh, man, is Dean tying himself in very knowing knots this episode, and predominantly repression in Cas and Jack, which is why it makes enormous sense to me that he cannot see them.

You see, where Dean is completely aware of his emotions and is actively and consciously suppressing them - which is so fucking unhealthy - Cas and Jack are both shown, throughout the episode, to be unaware of how deeply their unconscious repression runs. I’ll talk about Jack in a separate post, but oh god. It’s lovely.

Sidenote

Suppression is a psychological term for when we consciously push down unwanted thoughts or urges. Used healthily this is where self-control lies, but when an unwanted emotion or urge is ignored out of fear, this suppression tactic can turn into a pattern of behaviour that may lead to unhealthy coping mechanisms (like drinking, casual sex, violent outbursts, addiction to danger etc) *side eye Dean Winchester* and irrational behaviour and lack of self-control due to lack of self-awareness.

Repression is a psychological term for when we push down unwanted thoughts, urges or very often memories into our unconscious, where our conscious mind is protected from having to deal with these particulars, because our conscious mind is kept wholly unaware that these particulars are a part of us. However, these repressed thoughts, urges or memories will push to be recognised, because anything we try to simply forget, that is deeply affecting, will never stay forgotten, and being unable to confront these buried thoughts, urges or memories may result in unhealthy outlets, such as the coping mechanisms and irrational behaviour mentioned above.

(long af)

2. Almost Liturgical

This scene is so incredibly wonderful for setting up Dean and Cas’ attitudes for the rest of the episode. Cas is observant and supportive and quietly brazen in making Dean be honest with him, and Dean can’t resist opening up, not when Cas asks him to. Prompts him to, even.

There’s so much softness from Dean here, and I’d say Cas sees it, and still doesn’t see it at all. Dean’s been looking at him with heart eyes for so long without it meaning that anything between them is developing or, I don’t know, renewing, that Cas just takes that softness and those heart eyes at face value.

There are subtle shifts throughout this scene between them, but the biggest one, to my mind, comes once Jack is back at the table and tells them he’s fine, because Dean then tries to swipe his opening up to Cas, as well as the severity of his reminding Cas of Plan B, aside by being flippant and adding this smile:

Which basically gets him a stern look from Cas -->

--> because no, Dean, Cas isn’t fine with everyone being fine. You can’t just make him be fine with Plan B, because Plan B is anything but fine.

And Dean looks contrite enough -->

--> and, I would say, realising exactly how open he just left himself to Cas’ scrutiny. Feeling exposed and vulnerable and a little raw and this isn’t helped by Cas putting himself in a position of having the upper hand by using a word that’s not in Dean’s vocabulary, because whenever Cas gets the upper hand it serves to remind Dean of?

Yes, that Cas isn’t his to make heart eyes at.

Because?

He believes, to his core, that what he wants, he can’t have.

I’d like to shake him. And shake him hard. Because even when Cas, over and over, through his actions and reactions, tell Dean exactly what he’s feeling, Dean still doesn’t see.

And so he goes from the soft expression and full on openness with Cas...

...to that ^^^ detached and Got Work To Do expression.

*shake shake bloody shake*

Now, of course, the fact that he’s being open and making heart eyes and feeling all sorts of things that are scary as all fuck to him and always have been - the scariest thing of all is love, right? - makes him go to great and unnecessary lengths to cover those feelings up to anyone who might be watching him.

And to suppress them to himself.

Stop wanting, essentially. Letting that hope flare that Cas could love him back only leads to pain and pain and pain, because in his low self-worth idled brain, his thoughts are stuck running along the same lines that they’ve always been running along, saying the same thing they’ve always said: why would an angel rescue him from hell?

Which translates to: why would he ever deserve Cas’ love?

In his head, he doesn’t deserve good things.

And he’s perpetuating this conviction out of fear, rooted in losing his family at four years old, a loss that has cemented the belief of how Good Things Don’t Last, and this cementation has occurred in Dean out of sheer ego self-preservation, and Michael now is the ultimate proof of that. Michael in his head. Because Dean said yes. So -->

3. Overcompensation

This is Dean’s default reaction to Cas being in an obviously superior position, no matter how small that superiority might be. In 14x14 it’s something as simple as Cas having a deeper vocabulary and Dean being in the sudden situation where this is revealed to Jack, who couldn’t give less of a fuck, but since Dean just spent five minutes laying his soul bare to Cas, this moment is like a slap back to reality for Dean.

And what does he do?

He does what he always does. He tries to put himself in the superior position, because, truthfully, he knows he never really can be superior to Cas, because, um, angel. Yeah. Can’t really bypass that fact.

This ^^^ is all about Dean desperately trying to cover, trying to act like Cas knowing things beyond what Dean knows makes him, somehow, inferior.

Look, Dean’s habit of pulling Cas down to Earth is never malicious in intent, but all to do with Dean’s insecurities and, in many scenarios, also directly linked to his falling in love and not believing, ever, for a second, that Cas the angel - as an angel - could or would or should love him back.

The angle in 14x14, where he makes light of Cas’ superior vocabulary by putting him in with the brainy kids in AV Club - and look at how it sets up for Dean with his next breath trying to impress with his knowledge of Medusa, that turns out to be based in a movie that’s exaggerated the myth for entertainment purposes, which leaves very little of his knowledge to feel as impressive as Cas’ observations regarding the gorgon - the AV Club reference aids in Dean’s suppression of his emotions.

All the while this utter verbal denial of what it is that he truly loves about Cas serves to underline to us how he really feels deep down, and knows he feels deep down, which is why he’s scrambling to cover it up, terrified the truth is written all over his face, the way it is whenever he looks softly, softly at Cas and dares to open himself up to everything Cas means to him.

So instead, in dialogue, he goes:

-- Oh, look at the baby in the trench coat. Not so powerful now. -- Oh, look at the weird, dorky little guy. He’s not a commander. -- Oh, look at the nerdy dude who knows words. He is so not my type.

Yeah, okay, sure, Jan.

Meanwhile, Cas is like The fuck? -->

*darling Cas*

Now, when it comes to not seeing, we are presented with a baddie who eats the eyes of his victim to glimpse the future. Obviously he doesn’t snack on anyone’s eyes out of TFW 2.0, but he does carry a bit of the whole other side to him, where he can read people’s fate, with him in how he interacts with them, doesn’t he? It’s like he reads Jack’s palm, once he has him in front of him. And Dean and Cas?

Well, not the first one to point out that they’re both flat on their backs on the floor by the end of their encounter with the flood.

I mean, their encounter with Noah.

Who is actually the saviour away from the flood. Almost like their interaction with him constitutes the way out of drowning, for both of them. Funny that. But I’m skipping ahead.

First -->

4. Regards, Noah

Dean,

I see you standing alone by the truck stop reading this. I see you and the tall man and the red headed witch chasing me. I will always see you. Stop, or I will make you stop.

Regards, Noah

I’ll get back to this.

5. He’s a Lover, Not a Fighter

So, we arrive at the confrontation, which opens with the statement Noah makes of how he’s a lover, not a fighter. Interesting, isn’t it? Because this is truly the core trait of the entire TFW 2.0 --> innately they are not killers, they are protectors; they are not weapons, they are shields.

In the confrontation scene we also get a previously invisible and now not at all invisible Cas focusing on giving the antidote to the victim, while Jack keeps Noah distracted by listening to the fable.

Cas is mildly on guard about the whole thing and finally comes right out and questions Noah’s motives for telling the story to Jack. When Noah gives voice to what could be read as Cas’ own worries concerning Jack burning off his soul, Cas attacks, because he doesn’t want to even think about the implications of what Noah is seeing, or unable to properly make out, in Jack -->

--> in this context, Noah as a manifestation of Cas’ suppressed fears about Jack’s choices.

Cas being in denial of how serious Jack’s situation is, is given to us in the El Saboros, because we see Jack alone healing himself, burning off his soul, and returning to the table with a ready lie of how he’s fine. Cas might not be convinced, but he’s also unaware of how Jack is still coughing up blood, and if he wasn’t suppressing his constant worry, arguably writing it off as him being overprotective, he’d most likely take actual action in order to stop Jack from walking down the dangerous path he’s stubbornly treading.

(rather than the righteous path) (*clears throat*)

Back with the confrontation, where Noah very easily disarms Cas (demi-god that Noah is and all), slaps Cas twice, once across each cheek, and then kisses one of those cheeks, effectively paralysing Cas with gorgon poison.

Cas goes rigid and falls to the floor, unable to move, but the antidote doesn’t work on Cas.

Why does the poison have the same effect on him as on a human, but the antidote doesn’t? Why does it take Jack sacrificing a piece of his humanity in order to tap into his angelic powers for Cas to be released from the poison?

Mh-hmh, let’s look at Dean before we try and answer, shall we?

Dean bursts in and Noah very easily disarms him (Noah can fight y’all) and knocks Dean’s head once, twice against the wall, rendering Dean unconscious.

Let’s glance back for a moment at how we got to here:

Throughout S13 Dean was confronted with toxic masculinity representatives leading right into him saying yes to having the most outstanding toxic masculinity representative literally possess him by the end of the season. S13 was all about making Dean aware of how toxic the ideal he’s modelled himself after for so long truly is, and he did begin to move away from it, this in order to be equipped to recognise Michael’s true colours, once he had to grant them absolute access.

S14 has been very much about confronting the past and all those suppressed/repressed fears and hangups being pushed to the surface. This while TFW 2.0 have all been asked - in not so many words - to find the answer to the question of What Do I Want?

Dean’s reply to this question in 14x12 is so far from what the narrative is continuously angling for it to be, that only two episodes later that answer is not only nullified, but brings on a possible narrative punishment, because odds are that Jack, through self-sacrifice, is opening himself up to a world of hurt, and if Dean’s answer to the question of What Do I Want? had been different, if he’d reached that point in his individuation process where he could be honest with himself, then the outcome would have been different too.

But he hasn’t reached that point, and so the outcome is what we’re given in 14x14. So, what’s Dean’s answer to the question What Do I Want?

Plan B.

You see, Dean doesn’t believe that they’ll find another way to beat Michael, not really. Dean is humouring the people he loves, but he’s expecting them to be the ones to do all the emotional work and let him go, rather than him doing the necessary emotional work and confronting his fears, collected in the manifestation of his shadow-self: Michael.

Dean’s answer to the question What Do I Want? is to symbolically put himself into the box of societal norms that has dictated his relationship with his shadow-self for his entire life, and drown his ego, his consciousness, with the cycle of unhealthy suppression/repression that the darker side to his shadow-self is responsible for maintaining. (Dean’s suppressed longing for more, for a long and happy life; and his repressed childhood neglect)

Why? Because his fears run so deep that he doesn’t know how to confront them without annihilating his identity. To get to his true identity, though, he must confront these fears and understand the truth: that his fears are nothing but a construct, and that he can choose for them to no longer hold any merit.

6. Shake Shake Shake

Now, diving back into 14x14, where Dean and Cas are both flat on their back thanks to Noah.

So, let’s pull on the symbolical threads I set up at the start of this post. Threads that are very much tied to the Jungian doctrine of individuation, which I first wrote about here and have been reading up on since. (seriously it makes for deeply satisfying study) (Carl Jung was a great man)

Cas

When it comes to his worry for Jack, Cas deals in suppression, but when it comes to answering the question What Do I Want? Cas deals wholly in repression. He is not being honest with himself, and it’s given to us in his exchange later on with Jack, where he talks about humans as burning bright, unlike "things like us”.

Yes, an unspecified thing is what he identifies himself with.

He doesn’t identify himself as an angel, which, to my mind, is important, but for him to also step as far away as he can from humanity is equally pertinent because, well, this meta writer does believe that he needs to admit to himself what it is he truly wants for himself before he’ll be able to properly begin the final leg of his journey towards internal balance.

Noah’s note underlines how he sees Dean, but Noah couldn’t see Cas, and to me this is all because Noah is much more narratively tied to Dean, while serving - as representative of suppression/repression - to narratively highlight these habits in all of TFW 2.0, but there’s another layer to it, where Noah is tied to Cas’ repressed true identity, meaning Cas is blind to his own repression.

(and Jack is blind to his own internal conflict, given to us in dialogue when he yells at Michael - childishly - that he’s not a child) (because Jack still is a kid)

Looking at the setup of Noah not being able to see Cas and Jack, it could be argued that he can’t see them, that he’s cut off from them, because they’re unaware of him, and so he’s unaware of them.

Awareness is key to confrontation. So, to me, it’s delicious that it’s Cas and Jack who grow aware of Noah and go to confront him, allowing him to see them, because it’s the ego’s awareness that allows for any internal imbalance to be confronted and worked through.

Moreover, Cas’ continued unawareness - his inability to recognise what it is he’s actually doing - of his own repression is what is keeping Cas complacent.

It’s keeping Cas accepting the status quo.

It’s keeping Cas paralysed in his own skin.

See what I’m getting at? Cas’ confrontation with Noah is brief, very, very brief, and Cas is disarmed very, very quickly and receives the kiss that paralyses him after being slapped, like a proverbial wakeup call, on either cheek, by the representative of his repression.

And, look it, when it comes to the question of why the antidote doesn’t work on him: if Cas had been human, it would’ve.

But Cas - being an angel - needs Jack to help him, needs Jack to burn off a piece of his soul in order to get the poison out, needs Jack to unlock his limbs and get him out of the paralysis.

Jack, who in 14x08, was shown to be such an incredibly important tool for Cas’ individuation, since Jack is the one who symbolically (and literally) woke him, making Cas aware of his shadow-self.

And where Dean is unable to face his shadow-self due to his low self-worth making him fear what it will mean for his ego, aka his self-view and understanding of who he is if he were to confront his deepest fears, Cas’ low self-worth is equally exposed through his acceptance of the shadow-self’s threat to come and take him in his happiest moment. Cas doesn’t believe he deserves more, so for his happiest moment to be a point of punishment makes perfect sense to him, and this makes it incredibly difficult for him to break out of his complacency.

Better the status quo than the Empty.

Better a useful thing than daring to consider what would actually make him happy by truthfully answering the questions of Who am I? and Who do I want to be? and going for it.

*shake shake bloody shake*

The poisonous kiss from his repression, and Cas’ inability to get himself out of a state of paralysis without Jack’s help, doesn’t necessarily set up for what’s to come, but to me it does underline what is: as an angel Cas is stuck in a place where, as a human, he wouldn’t need help getting out of.

And this place that he’s stuck in takes a toll on the one person he’s tried, for seasons now, to protect - Jack - and this moment is entirely reflective of - and of course helps set up for - Jack’s choice to step into this exact same position for Dean, when he kills Michael.

Dean

Oh, Dean.

Old patterns are a bitch.

Actually, old patterns are turning into his greatest enemy, which gets me all kinds of squeakily excited for him. The lessons he’s been set out to learn for many, many moons now, are, at this point, hitting him so hard over the head they’re knocking him out against a wall.

Dean was fighting his toxic masculinity in S13. Growing aware of the ideal and moving away from it so that he can see Toxic Masculinity Michael for what he truly is, but because of patterns that have informed Dean’s sense of identity ever since he was a child, modelling himself on John and his mode of Feelings are Weaknesses that Will Get You and Your Brother Killed, Dean can’t bring himself to believe that there’s a way out of this confrontation with his shadow-self without killing the ego. Meaning without killing his conscious idea of himself. And because of the fear this brings of losing his sense of self completely, his incapable of believing there’s a way of beating Michael.

Even when Dean is sitting in front of the key to his own faith in the future, and yes, indeed the key to Dean’s faith in the future has always been Cas, and Cas is basically telling Dean that there’s no way Cas is ever giving up on him, and that they’ll find another way, Dean still can’t submit to his own need to believe, because his love of Cas is tethered to just as much fear as anything else, and confronting that fear, his fear of love and having hope for the future and believing that Cas does or could love him back, brings on just as much of an identity crisis as the thought of confronting his shadow-self.

And it’s all connected, of course. Because Dean’s internal fears don’t exist in a vacuum. But if he dared lean on his love for Cas and the faith and trust it’s always brought him, then he’d find the strength to confront his shadow-self and question all the lies it keeps filling his head with when it comes to perpetuating his low self-worth. Likewise, if he dared push past his identity crisis and begin to question the lies of his shadow-self that keeps his self-worth low, he would begin to feel the faith and trust Cas instils in him, and he’d start to believe in the love that Cas is continuously showing him.

But Dean can’t.

Dean is stuck in the belief that lingering in the status quo, and keeping to what he knows, is preferable, because there’s this huge thing in the way for Dean to be able to do anything else.

And holy fuck it’s formidable how this is now set up. (if I’m right in this reading)

The huge thing in the way for Dean to dare open himself up to his true identity is his inability to let go of old patterns, and 14x14 makes it explicit to me that this inability is rooted entirely in his neglected inner child.

So what truly needs nurturing and attention and for Dean to grow aware of exactly how much he’s been neglecting it, is Dean’s inner child. An inner child that he’s been ignoring through his repression of his yearning for love. This yearning has been present in him since childhood and he’s repressed it by adopting the adage that feelings are weaknesses, and adopting this very harsh take on love in order to protect himself from a father incapable of providing the affection every child needs to feel truly safe and protected.

Moreover, Dean has been putting up walls to keep out the memory of the horror of his mother’s death and the guilt that’s haunted him and the mistrust it’s produced in him of anything good ever truly lasting for very long, and this, all this, is why he, in 14x14, teases Cas and tries to cover up how he’s really feeling and it gets him his head smashed into a wall by the representative of all of the above fears collected into his lifelong habit of suppression and repression of his true identity.

Noah sees Dean.

Noah will always see Dean.

And the narrative punishes Dean’s inability to break old patterns by having those old patterns knock him out cold, because clearly something needs to happen to shake up the status quo.

Because the representative of Dean’s neglected inner child is...?

Jack.

And so Dean’s inability to do the shadow work needed, or to fully trust in those he loves, brings about the necessity for the representative of his inner child to step up to the plate and take matters into hand by expelling the manifestation of Dean’s shadow-self, while taking part of it into itself.

Yeah, I know right?

To my mind, Jack swallowing Michael’s grace is set to lead to not very good things.

Well, ultimately it will, I believe, but, oh, there may be quite a bit of glorious turbulence ahead. Or, at least, a huge push for Dean to face his internal imbalance and find a way to start all the emotional work needed if he’s to take full responsibility and stop running.

7. Off With Their Heads

This image is so powerful, because it serves so many possible purposes and can be interpreted in so many different ways, but here’s what I see:

A foreshadowing of the snake in Dean’s head (Michael) shedding his skin

An underlining for what Michael shedding Dean truly stands for: the first step toward internal rebirth/renewal for Dean

A plant for Jack picking up Felix and claiming him for a pet, which is deeply symbolic when looking at what Jack represents in the narrative, and what Jack himself needs for his own progression

But first, we get Sam also thrown across the room, very, very easily, by Noah the suppression/repression representative, because of course, Sam’s got his own shit to work through. Like his inability to take a moment for himself. His codependent behaviour runs so deep that he has no idea who he is unless he has people to look out for. And, good Lord, all the people under his protection getting killed by Michael after Sam insisted they bring Dean back. The internal conflict must be tearing Sam apart. *hands clutched to mouth* It’s not your fault, Sam!!

Once Sam hits the floor without getting knocked out (feels possibly significant here because Sam leading the way in letting go of the dependency and pushing himself into adulthood feels so important for Dean to finally allow himself to do the same) (but we shall see about that) we get Jack cutting off Noah’s head.

And looking at the fact of how Jack is the one to place his hands on either side of Rowena’s head, driving Michael out of her, you might say he cuts the head off both snakes in this narrative, right?

But, as I wrote here, he also swallows one of those snakes down, taking its essence into himself, while keeping a little piece of Noah in a glass box in his room, and so it can be said that he, symbolically, is tied to both symbols (suppression/repression/shadow-self) and is the last snake standing.

So. Turbulence.

Because Jack is no snake.

Jack has felt like a powerful symbol of internal balance for all of TFW and so for this symbol to now be in such absolute imbalance is quite possibly heralding Jack’s own dark arc, which could prove a necessary push out of the status quo that Dean and Cas and Sam are all in.

Something to shake shake bloody shake them awake already.

Please. And thank you. :)

8. Access Denied

Cas has tried, on more than one occasion on the ride back to the bunker, to heal Dean, but he can’t. He can’t even see what’s going on inside Dean’s head.

*slow eyebrow raise*

Dean’s repression knocks him out -->

leading to Dean’s shadow-self no longer staying suppressed

leading to Dean’s inner child confronting the shadow-self with a declaration of how its not a child

Dean’s inner child swallowing the essence of Dean’s shadow-self down and declaring that it’s now itself again, restored to its former glory through taking into itself the toxic masculinity representative that’s the source of Dean’s repressed longing for love and his neglecting of his inner child in the first place

Oof.

Cas suddenly has no access to Dean because Dean’s repression runs too deep, and faith can’t reach where it’s not welcome, where it’s constantly shut down and mistrusted, and neither can love.

Especially not a faith or a love that doesn’t actually believe it belongs there.

The fucking status quo acting like the barrier it’s always been between these men, the barrier sitting like an enormous obstacle in front of open communication and honesty with each other, but foremost with themselves.

*so frustratingly amazing*

#spn meta #spn 14x14 #deancas #destiel #tfw 2.0 #dean #cas #sam #jack #noah #repression suppression #open communication #character progression

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