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#like the man was literally born to rule
canichangemyblogname · 2 months
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I watched all eight episodes of season 1 of Blue Eye Samurai over the weekend. I then went browsing because I wanted to read some online reviews of the show to see what people were thinking of it and also because I wanted to interact with gifs and art, as the series is visually stunning.
Yet, in my search for opinions on the show, I came across several points I'd like to address in my own words:
Mizu’s history and identity are revealed piece-by-piece and the “peaches” scene with Mizu and Ringo at the lake is intended to be a major character reveal. I think it’s weird that some viewers got angry over other viewers intentionally not gendering Mizu until that reveal, rather than immediately jumping to gender the character as the other characters in the show do. The creators intentionally left Mizu’s gender and sexuality ambiguous (and quite literally wrote in lines to lead audiences to question both) to challenge the viewer’s gut assumption that this lone wolf samurai is a man. That intentional ambiguity will lead to wide and ambiguous interpretations of where Mizu fits in, if Mizu fits in at all. But don't just take my word for this:
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Re: above. I also think it’s weird that some viewers got upset over other viewers continuing to acknowledge that Mizu has a very complicated relationship with her gender, even after that reveal. Canonically, she has a very complicated relationship with her identity. The character is intended to represent liminality in identity, where she’s often between identities in a world of forced binaries that aren’t (widely) socially recognized as binaries. But, again, don’t just take my word for this:
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Mizu is both white and Japanese, but she is also not white and not Japanese simultaneously (too white to be Japanese and too Japanese to be white). She’s a woman and a man. She’s a man who’s a woman. She’s also a woman who’s not a woman (yet also not quite a man). But she’s also a woman; the creators said so. Mizu was raised as a boy and grew into a man, yet she was born a girl, and boyhood was imposed upon her. She’s a woman when she’s a man, a man when she’s a man, and a woman when she’s a woman.
Additionally, Mizu straddles the line between human and demon. She’s a human in the sense she’s mortal but a demon in the sense she’s not. She's human yet otherworldly. She's fallible yet greatness. She's both the ronin and the bride, the samurai and the onryō. In short, it’s complicated, and that’s the point. Ignoring that ignores a large part of her internal character struggle and development.
Mizu is intended to represent an “other,” someone who stands outside her society in every way and goes to lengths to hide this “otherness” to get by. Gender is a mask; a tool. She either hides behind a wide-brimmed hat, glasses, and laconic anger, or she hides behind makeup, her dress, and a frown. She fits in nowhere, no matter the identity she assumes. Mizu lives in a very different time period within a very different sociocultural & political system where the concept of gender and the language surrounding it is unlike what we are familiar with in our every-day lives. But, again, don’t just take my word for this:
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It’s also weird that some viewers have gotten upset over the fact women and queer people (and especially queer women) see themselves in Mizu. Given her complicated relationship with identity under the patriarchy and colonial violence, I think Mizu is a great character for cis-het women and queer folks alike to relate to. Her character is also great for how she breaks the mold on the role of a biracial character in narratives about identity (she’s not some great bridge who will unite everyone). It does not hurt anyone that gender-fluid and nonbinary people see themselves in Mizu's identity and struggle with identity. It does not hurt anyone that lesbians see themselves in the way Mizu expresses her gender. It does not hurt anyone that trans men see themselves in Mizu's relationship with manhood or that trans women can see themselves in Mizu when Mama forces her to be a boy. It's also really cool that cis-het women see themselves in Mizu's struggles to find herself. Those upset over these things are missing critical aspects of Mizu's character and are no different from the other characters in the story. The only time Mizu is herself is when she’s just Mizu (“…her gender was Mizu”), and many of the other characters are unwilling to accept "just Mizu." Accepting her means accepting the complicatedness of her gender.
Being a woman under the patriarchy is complicated and gives women a complicated relationship with their gender and identity. It is dangerous to be a woman. Women face violence for being women. Being someone who challenges sex-prescribed norms and roles under patriarchy also gives someone a complicated relationship with their identity. It is dangerous to usurp gender norms and roles (then combine that with being a woman...). People who challenge the strict boxes they're assigned face violence for existing, too. Being a racial or ethnic minority in a racially homogeneous political system additionally gives someone a complicated relationship with their identity. It is dangerous to be an ethnic minority when the political system is reproduced on your exclusion and otherness. They, too, face violence for the circumstances of their birth. All of these things are true. None of them take away from the other.
Mizu is young-- in her early 20s-- and she has been hurt in deeply affecting ways. She's angry because she's been hurt in so many different ways. She's been hurt by gender violence, like "mama's" misogyny and the situation of her birth (her mother's rape and her near murder as a child), not to mention the violent and dehumanizing treatment of the women around her. She's been hurt by racial violence, like the way she has been tormented and abused since childhood for the way she looks (with people twice trying to kill her for this before adulthood). She's been hurt by state-sanctioned violence as she faces off against the opium, flesh, and black market traders working with white men in contravention of the Shogun's very policies, yet with sanction from the Shogun. She's been hurt by colonial violence, like the circumstances of her birth and the flood of human trafficking and weapons and drug trafficking in her country. She's had men break her bones and knock her down before, but only Fowler sexually differentiated her based on bone density and fracture.
Mizu also straddles the line between victim and murderer.
It seems like Mizu finding her 'feminine' and coming to terms with her 'female side' may be a part of her future character development. Women who feel caged by modern patriarchal systems and alienated from their bodies due to the patriarchy will see themselves in Mizu. They understand a desire for freedom that the narrow archetypes of the patriarchy do not afford them as women, and they see their anger and their desire for freedom in Mizu. This, especially considering that Mizu's development was driven by one of the creators' own experiences with womanhood:
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No, Mizu does not pass as a man because she "hates women" or because she hates herself as a woman or being a woman. There are actual on-screen depictions of Mizu's misogyny, like her interactions with Akemi, and dressing like a man is not an instance of this. Mizu shows no discomfort with being a woman or being seen as a woman, especially when she intends to pass herself as and present as a woman. Mizu also shows the women in the series more grace and consideration than any man in the show, in whatever capacity available to her socially and politically, without revealing herself; many of the women have remarked that she is quite unlike other men, and she's okay with that, too.
When she lives on the farm with Mama and Mikio, Mizu shows no discomfort once she acclimates to the new life. But people take this as conclusive evidence of the "only time" she was happy. She was not. This life was also a dance, a performance. The story of her being both the ronin and the onryō revealed to the audience that this lifestyle also requires her to wear a mask and dance, just as the bride does. This mask is makeup, a wedding dress, and submission, and this performance is her gender as a wife. She still understands that she cannot fully be herself and only begins to express happiness and shed her reservation when she believes she is finally safe to be herself. Only to be betrayed. Being a man is her safety, and it is familiar. Being a boy protected her from the white men as a child, and it might protect her heart now.
Mizu shows no discomfort with being known as a woman, except when it potentially threatens her goals (see Ringo and the "peaches" scene). She also shows no discomfort with being known as, seen as, or referred to as a man. As an adult, she seems okay- even familiar- with people assuming she's a man and placing her into the role of a man. Yet, being born a girl who has boyhood violently imposed upon her (she did not choose what mama did to her) is also an incredibly important part of her lived experience. Being forced into boyhood, but growing into a man anyway became part of who she is. But, being a man isn’t just a part of who she became; it’s also expedient for her goals because men and women are ontologically different in her world and the system she lives under.
She's both because she's neither, because- ontologically- she fits nowhere. When other characters point out how "unlike" a man she is, she just shrugs it off, but not in a "well, yeah, because I'm NOT a man" sort of way, but in an "I'm unlike anyone, period," sort of way. She also does not seem offended by Madam Kaji saying that Mizu’s more man than any who have walked through her door.
(Mizu doesn’t even see herself as human, let alone a woman, as so defined by her society. And knowing that creators have stated her future arc is about coming into her “feminine era” or energy, I am actually scared that this show might fall into the trope of “domesticating”/“taming” the independent woman, complete with an allegory that her anger and lack of human-ness [in Mizu’s mind] is a result of a woman having too much “masculine energy” or being masculine in contravention of womanness.)
Some also seem to forget that once Mama and Mikio are dead, no one knows who she is or where she came from. They do not have her background, and they do not know about the bounty on her (who levied the bounty and why has not yet been explained). After their deaths, she could have gone free and started anew somehow. But in that moment, she chose to go back to life as a man and chose to pursue revenge for the circumstances of her birth. Going forward, this identity is no longer imposed upon her by Mama, or a result of erroneous conclusions from local kids and Master Eiji; it was because she wanted people to see her as a man and she was familiar with navigating her world, and thus her future, as a man. And it was because she was angry, too, and only men can act on their anger.
I do think it important to note that Mizu really began to allow herself to be vulnerable and open as a woman, until she was betrayed. The question I've been rattling around is: is this because she began to feel safe for the first time in her life, or is this part of how she sees women ontologically? Because she immediately returns to being a man and emotionally hard following her betrayal. But, she does seem willing to confide in Master Eiji, seek his advice, and convey her anxieties to him.
Being a man also confines Mizu to strict social boxes, and passing herself as a man is also dangerous.
Mizu doesn't suddenly get to do everything and anything she wants because she passes as a man. She has to consider her safety and the danger of her sex being "found out." She must also consider what will draw unnecessary attention to her and distract her from her goals. Many viewers, for example, were indignant that she did not offer to chaperone the mother and daughter and, instead, left them to the cold, only to drop some money at their feet later. The indignity fails consider that while she could bribe herself inside while passing as a man, she could not bribe in two strangers. Mizu is a strange man to that woman and does not necessarily have the social position to advocate for the mother and daughter. She also must consider that causing small social stirs would distract from her goals and draw certain attention to her. Mizu is also on a dangerous and violent quest.
Edo Japan was governed by strict class, age, and gender rules. Those rules applied to men as well as women. Mizu is still expected to act within these strict rules when she's a man. Being a man might allow her to pursue revenge, but she's still expected to put herself forward as a man, and that means following all the specific rules that apply to her class as a samurai, an artisan (or artist), and a man. That wide-brimmed hat, those orange-tinted glasses, and her laconic tendencies are also part of a performance. Being a boy is the first mask she wore and dance she performed, and she was originally (and tragically) forced into it.
Challenging the normative identities of her society does not guarantee her safety. She has limitations because of her "otherness," and the transgression of sex-prescribed roles has often landed people in hot water as opposed to saving them from boiling. Mizu is passing herself off as a man every day of her life at great risk to her. If her sex is "found out" on a larger scale, society won’t resort to or just start treating her as a woman. There are far worse fates than being perceived as a woman, and hers would not simply be a tsk-tsk, slap on the wrist; now you have to wear makeup. Let's not treat being a woman-- even with all the pressures, standards, fears, and risks that come with existing as a woman-- as the worst consequence for being ‘found out’ for transgressing normative identity.
The violence Mizu would face upon being "found out" won’t only be a consequence of being a "girl." Consider not just the fact she is female and “cross-dressing” (outside of theater), but also that she is a racial minority.
I also feel like many cis-het people either ignore or just cannot see the queerness in challenging gender roles (and thus also in stories that revolve around a subversion of sex-prescribed gender). They may not know how queerness-- or "otherness"-- leads to challenging strict social stratifications and binaries nor how challenging them is seen by the larger society as queer ("strange," "suspicious," "unconventional," even "dishonorable," and "fraudulent"), even when "queerness" (as in LGBTQ+) was not yet a concept as we understand it today.
Gender and sexuality- and the language we use to communicate who we are- varies greatly across time and culture. Edo Japan was governed by strict rules on what hairstyles, clothes, and weapons could be worn by which gender, age, and social group, and this was often enshrined in law. There were specific rules about who could have sex with whom and how. These values and rules were distinctly Japanese and would not incorporate Western influences until the late 1800s. Class was one of the most consequential features to define a person's fate in feudal Japan, and gender was quite stratified. This does not mean it's inappropriate for genderqueer people to see themselves in Mizu, nor does this mean that gender-variant identities didn’t exist in Edo Japan.
People in the past did not use the same language we do today to refer to themselves. Example: Alexander The Great did not call himself a "bisexual." We all understand this. However, there is a very weird trend of people using these differences in language and cultures across time to deny aspects of a historical person's life that societies today consider taboo, whether these aspects were considered taboo during that historical time period or not. Same example: people on Twitter complaining that Netflix "made" Alexander The Great "gay," and after people push back and point out that the man did, in fact, love and fuck men, hitting back with "homosexuality wasn't even a word back then" or "modern identity didn't exist back then." Sure, that word did not exist in 300s BCE Macedonia, but that doesn't mean the man didn't love men, nor does that mean that we can't recognize that he'd be considered "queer" by today's standards and language.
Genderqueer, as a word and as the concept is understood today, did not exist in feudal Japan, but the people did and feudal Japan had its own terms and concepts that referred to gender variance. But while the show takes place in Edo Japan, it is a modern adult animation series made by a French studio and two Americans (nationality). Mizu is additionally a fictional character, not a historical figure. She was not created in a vacuum. She was created in the 21st century and co-written by a man who got his start writing for Sex in the City and hails from a country that is in the midst of a giant moral panic about genderqueer/gender-variant people and gender non-conforming people.
This series was created by two Americans (nationality) for an American company. In some parts of that country, there are laws on the book strictly defining the bounds of men and women and dictating what clothes men and women could be prosecuted for wearing. Changes in language and identity over time mean that we can recognize that if Mizu lived in modern Texas, the law would consider her a drag performer, and modern political movements in the show creators' home country would include her under the queer umbrella.
So, yeah, there will also be genderqueer people who see themselves in Mizu, and there will be genderqueer fans who are firm about Mizu being queer to them and in their “headcanons.” The scene setting being Edo Japan, does not negate the modern ideas that influence the show. "Nonbinary didn't exist in Edo Japan" completely ignores that this show was created to explore the liminality of modern racial, gender, class, and normative identities. One of the creators was literally inspired by her own relationship with her biracial identity.
Ultimately, the fact Mizu, at this point in her journey, chooses to present and pass as a man and the fact her presented gender affects relationship dynamics with other characters (see: Taigen) gives this story a queer undertone. And this may have been largely unintentional: "She’s a girl, and he’s a guy, so, of course, they get together," < ignoring how said guy thinks she’s a guy and that she intentionally passes herself as a guy. Audiences ARE going to interpret this as queer because WE don’t live in Edo-era Japan. And I feel like people forget that Mizu can be a woman and the story can still have queer undertones to it at the same time.
#Blue Eye Samurai#‘If I was transported back in time… I’d try to pass myself off as a man for greater freedom.’#^^^ does not consider the intersection of historically queer existence across time with other identities (& the limitations those include)#nor does it consider the danger of such an action#I get it. some come to this conclusion simply because they know how dangerous it is to be a woman throughout history.#but rebuking the normative identities of that time period also puts you at great risk of violence#challenging norms and rules and social & political hierarchies does not make you safer#and it has always been those who exist in the margins of society who have challenged sociocultural systems#it has always been those at greatest risk and who've faced great violence already. like Mizu#Anyway... Mizu is just Mizu#she is gender queer (or gender-variant)#because her relationship with her gender is queer. because she is gender-variant#‘queer’ as a social/political class did not exist. but people WE understand as queer existed in different historical eras#and under different cultural systems#she’s a woman because queer did not exist & ‘woman’ was the sex caste she was born into#she’s also a woman because she conceptualizes herself as so#she is a woman AND she is gender-variant#she quite literally challenges normative identity and is a clear example of what sex non-conforming means#Before the actual. historic Tokugawa shogunate banned women from theater#there were women in the theater who cross-dressed for the theater and played male roles#so I’m also really tired of seeing takes along the lines of: ‘Edo Japan was backwards so cross dressers did’t exist then!’#like. please. be more transparent won’t you?
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sovamurka · 3 months
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suddenly realised that i don't have any of my epilepsy medication left, fuck
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nerdpoe · 10 months
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Body Double? You mean Double Trouble.
Jack Fenton has a weird job. It pays well enough to fund his family's ghost research, and he only has to run to Gotham like, four times a year.
What's his job?
Body Double.
His job is to drop everything and attend galas as Brucie Wayne when Brucie Wayne calls.
He's a natural born idiot, he's a meta (though he doesn't know that, but yeah the man has durability and super strength), and even though he's a little carefree he knows how to follow the rules.
do not use exorbitant amounts of strength
do not talk about ghosts
keep up with socialite news, Bruce will have an email sent to him once every month or so.
have bare minimum knowledge of Wayne Industries, Bruce will send in emails once a month or so regarding massive changes.
act like he's drinking a lot of alcohol, but keep a clear head.
do not sleep with anyone
So Jack does a pretty good job-slap the man in an armani suit, do some contouring, and he's a literal identical doppleganger of Bruce Wayne.
But there was an incident, way back in the day, when he'd been called in while on his honeymoon. He'd come in already tipsy and had forgotten to take it into account, and had fallen in bed with another woman.
Luckily, Maddie forgave him after he explained that he'd thought it was her, and the woman never brought it up, and no one saw "Brucie Wayne" stumble off with a strange woman.
Fast forward, and Tim is running his DNA to leave something on the Batcomputer in the event of a clone or shapeshifter, when there's a hit.
That's how Tim finds out that not only does Bruce have a body double for galas when none of them can show up at all, but also that said body double is his actual father.
He's an older brother to a young Jasmine Fenton and Daniel Fenton. He has a whole-ass family out there that he didn't know about.
They seem a little crazy, but eh. He's from Gotham, he's seen worse.
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Good evening I am once again thinking about mikoto suoh
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hyperlexichypatia · 3 months
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This post reminded me of it, but my partner has observed that in contemporary gender discourse, maleness is so linked to adulthood and femaleness is so linked to childhood, that there are no "boys" or "women," only "men" and "girls."
This isn't exactly new -- for as long as patriarchy has existed, women have been infantilized, and "adult woman" has been treated as something of an oxymoron. Hegemonic beauty standards for women emphasize youthfulness, if not actual neoteny, and older women are considered "too old" to be attractive without ever quite being old enough to make their own decisions. There may be cultural allowances for the occasional older "wise woman," but a "wise woman" is always dangerously close to being a madwoman, or a witch. No matter how wise a woman is, she is never quite a rational agent. As Hanna K put it, "as a woman you're always either too young or too old for things, because the perfect age is when you're a man."
But the framing of underage boys as "men" has shifted, depending on popular conceptualizations of childhood and gender roles. Sometimes children of any gender are essentially feminized and grouped with women (the entire framing of "women and children" as a category). In the U.S. in the 21st century, the rise of men's rights and aggressively sexist ideology has correlated with an increased emphasis on little boys as "men" -- thus slogans like "Teach your son to be a man before his teacher teaches him to be a woman."
Of course, thanks to ageism and patriarchy (which literally means, not "rule by men," but "rule by fathers"), boys don't get any of the social benefits of being considered "men." They don't get to vote, make their own medical decisions, or have any of their own adult rights. They might have a little more childhood freedom than girls, if they're presumed to be sturdier and less vulnerable to "predators," but, for the most part, being considered "men" as young boys doesn't really get boys any more access to adult rights. What it does get them is aggressively gender-policed, often with violence. A little boy being "a man" means that he's not allowed to wear colors, have feelings, or experience the developmental stages of childhood.
This shifts in young adulthood, as boys forced into the role of "manhood" become actual men. As I've written about, I believe the trend of considering young adults "children" is harmful to everyone, but primarily to young women, young queer and trans people, and young disabled people. Abled, cisgender, heterosexual young men are rarely denied the rights and autonomy of adulthood due to "brain maturity."
What's particularly interesting is that, because transphobes misgender trans people as their birth-assigned genders, they constantly frame trans girls as "men" and trans men as "girls." A 10 year old trans girl on her elementary school soccer team is a "MAN using MAN STRENGTH on helpless GIRLS," while a 40 year old trans man is a "Poor confused little girl." Anyone assigned male at birth is born a scary, intimidating adult, while anyone female assigned at birth never becomes old enough to make xyr own decisions.
Feminist responses have also really fluctuated. Occasionally, feminists have played into the idea of little boys as "men," especially in trans-exclusionary rhetoric, or in one notorious case where members of a women's separatist compound were warned about "a man" who turned out to be a 6-month-old infant. There's periodic discourse around "Empowering our girls" or "Raising our boys with gentle masculinity," but for the most part, my problem with mainstream feminist rhetoric in general is that it tends to frame children solely as a labor imposed on women by men, not as subjects (and specifically, as an oppressed class) at all.
Second-wave feminists pushed back hard on calling adult women "girls" -- but they didn't necessarily view "women" as capable of autonomous decision-making, either. Adult women were women, but they might still need to be protected from their own false consciousness. As laws in the U.S., around medical privacy and autonomy, like HIPAA, started more firmly linking the concepts of autonomy with legal adulthood, and fixing the age of majority at 18, third-wave feminists embraced referring to women as "girls." Sometimes this was in an intentionally empowering way ("girl power," "girl boss"), which also served to shield women (mostly white, mostly bourgeois/wealthy) from criticism of their participation in racism and capitalism. But it also served to reinforce the narrative of women as "girls" needing to be protected from "men" (and their own choices).
I'm still hoping for a feminist politic that is pro-child, pro-youth, pro-disability, pro-autonomy, pro-equality, that rejects the infantilization of women, the adultification of boys, the objectification of children, the misgendering of trans people, and the imposition of gender roles.
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mickyschumacher · 10 months
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hi love!! Could you write something about Charles x actress!reader where he gets jealous of one of readers ex boyfriend who’s famous and maybe leads to smut?
(i really hope it makes sense, english is not my first language 😭😭)
thank you !!🩷🩷
𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔 .ೃ࿐
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𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: jealousy is a disease. and it's latest victim is your boyfriend, charles leclerc.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minors DNI), jealousy obviously, zayn is kind of a dick bless him 😭, unprotected sex (wrap your tippy pls), praise, blowjob, fingering, oral sex, p in v, orgasm denial, mutual orgasms, cumming inside, mentioning power couple tomdaya ♡︎, sucky media as per usual :/
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: charles leclerc x famous actress!fem!reader, ex!zayn malik x reader
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 4k+
𝐀/𝐍: if i don't get to see charles and zayn in one room irl, i'll just write them in one room if that’s okay :( on another note, i hope this was what you wanted anon! and your english is fine, love. sorry for the wait ♡︎ // questionably written and proof-read on a jetlagged mind
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
⋆  •°.  。  .°•  ⋆
There were many things Charles understood well. Family, racing, the politics of racing... but one thing he would never truly understand was how he got you.
The Y/N L/N. An Oscar-winning, multitalented, down-to-earth, and gorgeous actress who had entirely won the public's hearts along with Charles'. The actress who had managed to rule the industry that most were born into.
How on earth had he gotten so lucky?
Charles couldn't deny that he was Ferrari's golden boy nor that he had become a fame athlete. But got you were on another level.
For what it was worth, Charles was a confident man. He thought he cleaned up quite well, he knew his mother raised him right, he knew that charisma itself was scared of him.
Yet, all that confidence came crashing down when it came to your ex.
Zayn Malik.
If Charles could ignore him, he would. But Zayn was everywhere. On his Twitter, on his TikTok, on his Instagram... his fans and your fans especially loved him. Why wouldn't they? He was a literal Greek, well South Asian, god part of arguably one of the best boy band's in history with a voice that had been blessed by Heaven's angels themselves.
When fans questioned why you and Zayn had broken up and you had moved on with an F1 driver, Charles found himself quietly agreeing.
But then he realised that by his side was you. You weren't next to Zayn or anyone else. You were with Charles because you loved him and he loved you. And that was more than enough.
That being said, Charles couldn't help feel a bit maddened at headline he had woken up to this morning.
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You let out a small yawn. Sunday mornings were the most calm for you. Especially when you had managed to snag Charles for the week. You turned to your awoken boyfriend with a smile before frowning. "What's on that screen that made you look like this, amour (love)?" You queried, rubbing a finger over the crease between his eyebrows.
Charles looked up from his phone, smiling at the sight of your face. "Nothing, mon amour (my love)," the Monégasque dismissed, pressing a kiss to your forehead before pulling you close to him.
Naturally you would've snuggled yourself into him but you could tell he was upset. "No, Cha. Tell me what's wrong. What can I do to turn that frown upside down? Hmm?" You softly asked, peeking up at him while you rested your head on his chest.
You could feel Charles' body convulse as he let a gentle chuckle pass his lips. "I can never hide anything from you, hmm? It's really nothing, Y/N. Just a stupid headline."
You mended your brows, taking his phone from his hand. If you knew anything about headlines, most of them were never good. Your eyes had captured the photo of your ex first, making you deflate a little. You continued to read the headline that made you and Zayn sound like you were still together and then went to the little summary below it.
"They're 'dying to know what happens?'," You huffed, closing his phone. You pursed your lips and peered over Charles. "I swear I didn't know he was coming, Cha. I promise. We can totally skip if you don't want the drama. I'm okay with that. We can lounge in the house and do nothing," You offered.
Charles smiled softly at your words. You were always thinking of everyone but yourself. "Thank you but I wouldn't miss you winning these awards for the world, ma belle (my beautiful). You deserve to win these awards and I'm going to watch you do it. Nothing could ruin tomorrow for me."
━━━━━━━━━━━
A few hours into the Oscars, after parading the red carpet and gushing over you with interviewers, Charles was quite sure he was right. Nothing could ruin tonight because, god, were you a sight to behold.
You had captured everyone's eyes. Talking to your stylist months ago, you had accomplished your two wishes about your appearance at the Oscars: simplicity and red.
Red on a red carpet was always a bold choice but this year's carpet was a light grey. Dressed in a custom red ball gown, a matching silk shawl and a simple necklace, you had blown everyone away.
The amount of people that had solely come to your table to compliment you was surreal. But Charles couldn't argue with them. You were surreal. When he first saw you come out of the dressing room, he could've sworn his heart had stopped and for a moment, he seriously considered your offer yesterday morning.
The most beautiful person in the world loved him. Nothing could ruin the storm whirling in his stomach. The same storm he had felt when he was trying to muster the courage to talk to you when you first met at a tennis match in Monaco.
As you two conversed with your manager about the after party activities you were considering attending, Charles and you heard a voice that was all but too familiar.
"Y/N," The voice greeted.
You knew it was Zayn. You also knew how Charles felt. So you turned around with what you thought was enough confidence and greeted him. "Zayn," You breathed out with a small smile.
"It's been a while. You look out of this world. Beautiful as always," Zayn grabbed your hand and left a small kiss.
Oh good lord.
Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Charles tense. You cleared your throat. "Thank you. You look.. uh, amazing as always too," You complimented awkwardly, eyes darting anywhere but his face.
Before Zayn could fill the upcoming silence with any unnecessary compliments, you linked your hand through Charles' arm. "This is Charles. My boyfriend," You smiled proudly.
Charles' could feel his heart speed up. He gave a kind smile to the singer, jutting out his hand for him to shake.
Zayn poked his tongue against the inners of his cheek, eyeing Charles' hand before returning the gesture. He locked eyes with the Monégasque, tilting his head to the side. "Right. The driver, right?"
Jesus. For a second you had forgotten why you broke up with him.
"Yeah... the racing driver," Charles responded with a tight voice and slightly narrowed eyes.
A nervous laugh fell from your lips. "O-Okay. I think we're gonna head over to Tom and Zendaya. Uh, see you around, Zayn, hmm?"
Zayn moved his eyes from Charles to you. He gave his usual charming smile. Putting his hand on your shoulder, he said, "Yeah, sure. I'm always around as you know."
Charles felt his jaw lock as he watched Zayn's hand fall from your shoulder and trail loosely down your arm before he left. "See you, Y/N. Goodbye Charlie."
━━━━━━━━━━━
The after parties were a no go. For the first time in your life you couldn't tell what Charles was thinking. The silence after Zayn left and the car ride home was unbearable. You tried to comfort him by putting your hand over his and assuring him that Zayn was just a classified dick, but nothing came from Charles.
What you did know was that Charles was pissed. The tight grip on the steering wheel, his flexed jaw, the hardened eyes... all signs of an angry Charles.
Arriving home, you both entered your bedroom after taking your shoes off. You looked over to Charles. God the silence was unnerving. "Charles? Amour, are you okay?" You asked once again.
Charles sat on the bed, looking at you stand in front of him. His mind was going as fast as the cars he drove. 'Out of this world?' All Charles could think was that he was going to fuck you out of this world. He wasn't angry about the snide remarks. He was angry that he was even jealous of such a pathetic human being. Moreover, he was furious over those small touches of his.
"Chérie (Sweetheart), come here. Let me help you change," Charles smiled, his hand beckoning for you to come towards him.
You sighed, walking over to him. You could see his hands aching to grab you but instead you stretched out your hand to touch his hair. Charles closed his eyes at the feeling. "Cha... I'm sorry about him. He's an asshole," You apologised, now rubbing his cheek gently.
Charles leaned into your caress, fluttering his eyes open so you could see those soft baby blues you had completely fallen head over heels for. "It's not your fault, chérie. I think he's regretting leaving the most smartest and beautiful woman in the world. You have nothing to apologise for."
You chuckled softly, trying to disguise how touched you felt. Charles complimented you like this all the time and it never got easier. No one had treated you like this before and especially not Zayn.
"Now come on," Charles stood up from the bed and turned you around, "Let's get this off." A small kiss was planted on the side of your cheek as Charles' eyes twinkled through the mirror across you.
You smiled warmly at him and nodded. You watched him take the red straps off of your shoulders, leaving a trail of warm kisses on either side. You sighed calmly. His hands trailed to the zip of the dress, pulling it down, he explored the smooth of your back, placing a kiss on the back of your neck. Charles gently pushed down the red gown, letting it pool at your bare feet.
You reached to the back of your neck to take off the gorgeous silver necklace you had worn but Charles stopped you by grabbing your wrists. "Leave it," He whispered, grazing your arms with his touch.
An involuntary shiver came over you at his voice and from the air rushing against your bare skin.
You could feel Charles' lips quiver at the side of your face. "Cold? Let me warm you up, mon amour."
You drew a quiet, sharp breath as you felt him move your chin so you could properly see him in your mirror. His ring-adorned hand travelled from your neck and down the valley of your breasts, ensuring to make the extra effort to glide over your nipples with the metal band.
Your breath hitched as one hand began to rub your hardened nipple while the other continued to travel down your stomach. "Charles..." You sighed out, feeling a familiar burn spark in the pits of your stomach.
Charles hummed in response, meeting your eyes in the mirror with lust and a tint of smugness. The corner of his lips quirked up, feeling you tense as he neared your pussy. Through the thickness of his own clothes, he could feel your skin begin to burn.
His cock hardened at your reaction. He had barely even done anything and his name was already falling from your lips.
His fingers continued to creep down your stomach, feeling the heat from your core radiate. A sigh of pleasure fell from his mouth as he pressed his two fingers into your folds. He could feel your arousal encompassing his fingers.
"So wet, ma chérie," Charles moaned in your ear, making you return the sinful sound back. "All for me, hmm? No one else gets you this wet, do they, chérie?"
You squirmed against him as Charles' fingers moved from the soft lips of your pussy and ghosted your clit so damn slowly. Your hips bucked involuntarily with the crave of more.
Suddenly, his juice-ridden fingers were pressed up against your bundle of nerves while his other hand tugged at your lip, waiting for your answer.
"Shit, no. No one. Only you make me this wet, Cha," You whimpered, grinding your hips up against his fingers for more pressure.
Charles smiled in satisfaction. "Let's sit, hmm?" He said, tapping your clit.
You jolted at the action, feeling his hands wrap around your waist, seating you on his lap as he sat down on your bed. Your pussy throbbed at the loss of touch but ached for the hardness pressed up against you.
"Feel that, amour? That's what you do to me," Charles grunted, feeling an obscene high come over him when you started to grind down on his cock. God did you have him under your spell. Only you could put your bare pussy down on his cock and make him want to cum in seconds.
But how could you not. In the mirror you could see a sex-hazed Charles, skin flushed at your actions. It turned you on to see him lose control.
"Fuck," Charles moaned, stilling your hips from moving any further. Ignoring your whines, he pushed opened your legs, taking in the glistening view from the mirror. Bringing his two fingers to your mouth, you opened your lips and lapped at your arousal on his fingers.
"Merde," He sighed out, moving his lubed fingers to your pussy. He teasingly rubbed his fingers fully up and down, make you gasp at the coldness of his ring. Shit.
"Charles, please. I want your fingers," You groaned in frustration, thighs taking his fingers into a tight grip.
Charles chuckled, "Anything for you, princesse." He pushed his to fingers into the soft walls of your pussy.
The both of you moaned in unison, your head falling back on his shoulders. He watched eagerly as you enveloped his fingers entirely as if it was a magic trick of some sorts. The lewd sheen of you glimmered over his fingers while he thrusted them in and out.
"Look at you, chérie. Making a mess all over me," Charles smiled against your cheek as he looked down at his black trousers which now sported a darker stain.
Your warm walls clenched around his fingers, sending Charles on a journey to find that right spot both he and you craved so much. Charles could tell by the sudden parting of your lips and the jerk of your hips that he had reached it. His eyes flickered over to your face, bringing a small smug smirk to his mouth.
Your eyes brows were creased in the middle, laden with trickles of sweat building up while your mouth remained in a constant state of opening, letting those beautiful moans fall out as your chest heaved, craving more and more of him.
The trembles, the moans, the pure state of bliss you were in... it was all because of him. And Charles loved it.
Charles brought his thumb to your bundle of nerves, rubbing you in slow circles as he continued to push his digits in and out. He whispered softly, lips dancing against the curve of your ear, "You don't know how beautiful you looked tonight, mon amour. So many eyes on you. I bet they all thought the same thing... that you looked like a goddess. Sometimes I wish they could see what I'm seeing right now. This gorgeous body, your wet pussy trembling all over me, your swollen lips.... hear those pretty little moans of yours. Then they would realise... you are perfection. Unfortunately for them, they aren't the luckiest man alive. I am."
All of a sudden, all your emotions were rushing towards you. Hearing Charles' thick voice while his fingers fucked you sent you overboard. The ache of your core was climbing higher and higher, hips convulsing. "Fuck, Charles, I'm going to cum," You murmured with staggered pants, eyes fluttering shut.
Charles smiled softly, cock throbbing at the sight of you reaching your climax. But as much as Charles loved it, he needed his cock in your warm walls.
Your eyes snapped open as you felt Charles remove his fingers from your pussy, leaving his thumb circling your clit aggravatingly slow. Your walls clenched around nothing in the effort to grab the last sliver of euphoria that Charles had brought. "Charles," You whispered, almost with a sob, eyes shaking in both annoyance and lust.
Charles brought his lips to yours, softly hushing your cries. "I'm sorry, chérie, I need you." His baby blues bored into yours, taking you in.
Looking at Charles when he had said that, given how the night had played out, the tone of his voice told you everything you needed to know. "I know, amour. I need you too," You whispered back, giving him a long peck.
You sat up from his lap, turning to undo the buckle of his belt. The clangs echoed throughout the room as the tension between the both of you became heavier and desperate. Your hands raced to take off the strap while Charles itched to take off his stained pants, cock aching to come out.
Charles let out a low groan, feeling your warm breath on his bare cock as your removed his boxers. His Adam’s apple hitched as he felt your tongue take a long wet stripe of his cock.
His fingers itched to move you away and fuck you like he initially intended to, but the moment he felt your mouth sink down his shaft, his hand naturally fell into your hair. His cock fit perfectly in your mouth as if they were made for each other.
Charles' teeth sunk down on his bottom lip, baby blues eagerly watching you on your knees for him. His hand tightened around your hair as you hollowed your throat. With your eyes flickering to him as your teeth just grazed his cock, sending a tremor down his spine, he let out a series of soft moans. "Just like that, amour," He encouraged while you sucked him up and down.
Taking long licks at the shaft of his pulsing cock, you removed your lips briefly, resting them on his tip. "Only for you, Cha," You reminded him.
Charles held your gaze, feeling another shudder rip through his body. Jesus. Speechlessly he watched you bring your swollen lips back down his cock, hand gently reaching out towards his balls. Charles' hip jerked up at the sudden action, pushing his cock further down your throat.
The rasp of his grunt made you clench your thighs, feeling your pussy drip with arousal. You could feel his cock begin to move with Charles' control, high on the pleasure. Your throat fought to keep itself open, wanting every inch of him in your mouth.
Charles' pace began to speed as the sheer euphoria began to climb up. He averted his eyes to your face, feeling himself tighten further in your throat as seeing you take his cock was a different high on it's own. Your eyes were glassy, brimming with tears of brought of lust and arousal; saliva and sweat painted your skin with a glow he cherished. But what did it for him was the small bulge in your throat; all of him just in your throat.
God, did he just want to thrust himself harder till he came. He needed to cum... but not in your throat.
"Mon amour," Charles grunted, tapping the underside of your chin.
You moved your mouth from his cock, feeling his hand gently lift your chin as you stood from your knees. No words were needed as your eyes searched his.
Bringing your lips to his, Charles wrapped his arm around your waist, flushing your burning body to his unfairly clothed chest. Yet, you could feel the heat pouring off of him. You could barely breathe as you kissed Charles; the fervent need for each other was almost overwhelming.
You could feel his puffy lips slowly detach from yours, eyes staring into yours as he positioned his cock to your wet folds.
Something about this moment felt nostalgic, reminding you of your first time with Charles. The slow and careful movements, the way Charles looked at you as if he had the whole world in his eyes... as if everything was okay as long as you were by his side.
Fuck Zayn. Fuck everyone else.
All he needed was you and he had you... entirely.
You whimpered loudly, feeling his cock drive into you, filling you entirely. "Merde," you heard Charles cuss as he flung his hands onto your bare hips. The air that was once full of your pants and the obscene sounds of your lips sucking his cock was now full of your lewd moans and the sounds of your skin slapping and sticking against one another.
His hands gripped your hips tightly as Charles thrusted into you, losing himself in the feeling of your warm folds enveloping his cock, acting as some sort of siphon that he couldn't escape while he watched your breasts bounce. No... he was under your spell.
Those same thoughts wandered into his head as he rutted into you. How had he gotten so lucky? All he knew was that he must've been a good soul in every past life of his in order to get someone like you.
"Fuck," You cursed, back arching as your body welcomed each hit of euphoria. You burned with desire, humming with approval; cheeks aflame and moans slurred. Your pussy tightly wrapped around his cock began to clench as Charles' fingers had found their way to your clit.
A shiver shoots down Charles' spine as he watched your breasts come on full display. He bent his head down, hot tongue swiping over your nipple. He moaned against your now flushed breast. You were driving him insane. He couldn't think, he could barely speak. You had taken over any stability he once had.
"Charles," You rasped, feeling the coil at the bottom of your stomach tighten.
Charles softly smiled against your breast, detaching his mouth and increasing the pace of his hips against yours. His eyes flickered down to where his cock met your folds, falling into an entrance while he watched your arousal coat his cock.
"Cum for me, chérie," Charles encouraged, feeling your hands travel up his back, pressing into the fabric of his shirt, leaving no inch of his skin missed by you.
"Charles, Charles, Charles," You moaned his name; your favourite song. Your body trembled, melting against him as he tightened his grip on your hips, steadying you as a white light ripped past your eyes, hips bucking involuntarily to fully grasp the high of your climax.
Charles takes his turn at own favourite song; your name slipping from his lips, stuck on repeat. Your folds act as a vice, gripping him tightly. His cock throbbed, the heat of his skin rising. His pants turned higher and irregular, hips coming to a falter as he felt the hot white stripes of his cum coat your warm walls.
Charles' head fell back against the bed, slowly removing his softening cock from your pussy.
You let out a small sigh, almost collapsing against Charles if he hadn't wrapped his arms around your waist and brought you close to him. His blues eyes skimmed over your face, a small smile playing on his lips while he brushed your sweat ridden hair back; his fingers trailed over your swollen lips, tracing the trails of red lipstick that had escaped it's confines.
"You're coming to Monaco, right?" Charles asked softly.
You smiled at him, running your hand through those soft brown locks of his, trailing down his face and ending at his small dimple. Rubbing the spot in small circles, you earnestly whispered, "I wouldn't miss it for the world, Cha."
Charles' eyes softened, pressing a kiss to the side of your forehead. "I'm sorry about tonight, amour," He apologised, feeling a slight bit childish and guilty over his reaction.
You chuckled, shaking your head, moving to rub the familiar crease between his eyebrows. "He's an asshole, Cha. I don't know if I tell you enough, but you're the man that I love... forever. There's no one else for me."
"So cheesy," Charles jested even though you could tell what you had said meant a lot to him, especially given that he had tightened his grip around you.
"Only for you, Charles," You rolled your eyes before holding his gaze. "Only for you."
© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑
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midnightwriter21 · 6 months
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jjk headcannons: gojo & nanami as boyfriends
characters: reader x satoru gojo, reader x kento nanami
warnings: language, mentions of death in gojo's (assassination attempts, gojo unaliving someone)
AN: yuji, megumi, and yuta version HERE
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SATORU GOJO
lucky you!!! you go a boyfriend and a 6ft tall superhuman man child wrapped up into one person!!
now
everybody always hc's gojo as a guy thats wayyyyy over the top with PDA
BUT THEY ARE WRONG.
i mean cmon think abt it... since the day he was born, gojo has been the target of assassinations, kidnappings, etc.
and in his eyes being affectionate with you in public where literally anyone can see you…
is basically putting a giant target on your back.
ofc the people closest to him know that you’re together and he’s not afraid to be affectionate in front of them
like his students, principal yaga, nanami, shoko, etc.
in fact if its just these people around y'all you can bet that he's most likely making them sick from how he clings to you
but it’s rare that you and gojo can have a day out together in public like a regular couple
he’s just being overprotective that’s all
speaking of him being overprotective
i dare somebody to threaten you or make you upset lmfao
gojo won't stand for it
the person that makes that mistake mysteriously disappears
and at the end of the day gojo's coming home to you with bloodstains on his shirt
don't question it cause he's not gonna tell you anyways
we all know gojo is a clown fr
but around you? lol multiply his usual goofy behavior by 100
he loves hearing you laugh
even if its at him
introduces you to his students as soon as y'all are officially dating
his students are some of the most important people in his life
and now you are too
his students adore you of course
but they also question how you can put up with gojo's annoying ass all the time (especially megumi lol)
idk i just love bf gojo
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KENTO NANAMI
god he's so fine
did somebody say best bf on the planet? cause that's what nanami is
nanami isn't gonna be over the top w the PDA
but he will show you affection in public in small ways
a hand on the small of your back to softly guide you when your walking together
holding you by your waist
holding your hand
and if you're seeing him off on a mission?
he's giving you a chaste kiss on the cheek with a promise of "ill be home before dinner."
and when he does get home he hits you with the "honey, im home!"
FUCK i want him so bad
now nanami is protective too
not a day goes by that he's not scolding you for leaving your front door unlocked, not locking your car, etc.
he just doesn't want something to happen to you when he's not around to protect you
again, nanami doesn't flaunt your relationship around. but everybody knows y'all are together
except one person lmfao
guess who it is
correct!! it's gojo LOLLLLL
he's not hiding your relationship from gojo or anything
nanami just knows when gojo finds out y'all are together that he's gonna end up with a headache
doesn't wanna deal with gojo's teasing
nanami takes you out on dates as often as his job allows
and he's the perfect gentleman ofc
opening doors for you
picking up the bill
bringing you flowers
nanami. knows. the sidewalk. rule.
i love him
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the-likesofus · 11 months
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Buddie Fic Recs
AKA Talented Mutuals Tuesday
Except I spent so long making this list that the timezones changed over BUT I wanted to show my mutuals some love and now that we are going into the hiatus I thought you might all like a list of quality fics to keep you occupied while there is no new Weewoo show. 
I don't know if anyone will actually want to join in on this but if you do the rules are simple:
SHOW YOUR MUTUALS SOME LOVE! Share your favourite fics, (or gifs, edits, literally anything that your very talented mutuals have made), as many or as few as you like but let's share the love around <3
Apologises in advance for the long post btw
@speaknowdiaz I would literally read anything that April writes and would probably sell a limb for the incredible WIPs I know she's still cooking up but here are a couple of my faves:
pining and anticipation (I don't want you like a best friend)
Buck challenges Eddie to try to hit on him after teasing Eddie for not having any ‘game’. This fic is very funny and very soft.
believe in one thing (i won't go away)
This fic hit me straight in the feels. Buck and Eddie go to couples therapy even though they aren't a couple and they work through some stuff.
@thosetwofirefighters Incredible amazing Nat ily xx
Say It All Out Loud
Eddie comes out to Aunt Pepa after his ‘date’ with Vanessa. I am a little bit biased towards this one because she did write it for me but it's honestly just so good!
How to Cure Boredom: Buckley Edition
The 118 are stuck at the firehouse during a slow shift and Buck entertains them all by mattress-surfing the loft stairs. It’s soft and silly and in the same universe as her other fic Safe in His Arms.
@loveyourownsmiilee The wonderful amazing Juju not only writes incredible meta and keeps us all fed with Oliver content but Juju also writes wonderful buddie fic. 
When Were You Under Me?
Who doesn’t love a Friends AU. This is Buck and Eddie as Ross and Rachel and it is hilarious and so sweet. 
You should also check out her Buddie Language Meta if you have not read it before <3
@elvensorceress Jenwyn’s work always astounds me so be sure to check these out:
Color Him Father, Color Him Love
I will scream from the rafters how much I adore this fic and yes it did make me cry (happy tears). It’s a look into Buck’s head after his sperm donor kid is born and he realizes what Christopher (and Eddie) truly mean to him. I know I have recced this before but it deserves all the love. 
Unless You Ask Me To
Eddie dates a man for the first time, and Buck is completely 'Fine'. This is a preemptive rec because it is one chapter away from completion and I have been saving it to binge in one sitting but knowing Jenwyn and her incredible talent I guarantee this will be worth the read. 
@spotsandsocks If anyone’s work is guaranteed to make me sob like a baby (happy, sad, or tears of laughter) it’s Spotty. 
Everything But (temptation)
This is Spotty’s newest fic and it's just brilliant. Buck is practicing extreme self-control whilst Eddie is being an irresistible menace. 
Could Have, Should Have, Would Have
Buck finally tells Eddie he loves him right before Eddie’s new boyfriend is supposed to meet Christopher. Honestly, all I can say about this fic is that it’s a masterpiece and I screamed many times while reading it. 
@shortsighted-owl Wonderful amazing Owly (Abbi). I appreciate you so and you make my dash so happy xx
Of foam-moustached kisses, and button combinations
For all your sweet domestic buddie needs this is the fic. Eddie is practicing a video game to get better than Chris and Buck makes fun of his ex-technophobe boyfriend. 
Also THIS EDIT SET to the lyrics of You’re All That I Have by Snow Patrol make me assdffgghjjklkll
@lilbuddie Okay, this one is just a brag because Minja doesn’t actually have any fics published yet (side eye) but I wanna make sure she is on everyone’s radar for when she does because yall are not ready for the incredible amazing talent that is this girl’s writing!! So go check out the snippets on her Tumblr and badger her until she finishes something plssssss
@wheelsupin-five Hi! <3
Almost Almost Almost
This adorable of Buck who is always cold and Eddie warms him up I– asfffghhjkklllll
Under Kitchen Light
SO SOFT! Buck wakes up and Eddie isn't there, Buck finds him in the kitchen. 
@rogerzsteven Simi owns my heart and by that I mean my heart is locked in a cage in Simi’s basement where it is occasionally beaten to a pulp by the most incredibly angsty fics you've ever read.
Cleanse
Buck is extremely nauseous and Eddie takes care of him while I sob over them in a corner.
build me a home underground (free from light and sound)
This fic is so brutal in all the best ways, my heart was in my throat the entire read! Buck gets trapped in a sensory deprivation room while the 118 and Athena race to find him. 
@ashavahishta another incredibly talented mutual of mine
out of ashes
Is it really a Meegs rec list if I don’t rec this fic honestly it's engraved on my soul. This is a criminal minds/greys inspired fic where Buck is kidnapped and tortured until the 118 can find him. This fic is so so well written and means a million things to me I could never explain but pleaseeeee read it!! 
@jobairdxx hello lovely xx
Oh, We Pray to Make it Through the Night
Highly recommend this fic, I do love a near-death experience fic! Buck gets injured on a call and Eddie falls asleep holding vigil at his bedside. 
Jules also writes beautiful poetry on Tumblr so go read some of that too <3
@monsterrae1 MISS RAE! YOU INCREDIBLE THING! <3
love is on its way
I know we’re all a little bit in mourning over the couch theory but it lives on in our hearts and in this fic which has six moments between Buck and Eddie on the Diaz couch (and she’s a wee bit spicy too).
Buck's café (take my heart, just not my order)
Coffee Shop AU. Buck runs the shop where the 118 order all their drinks on shift. I absolutely adore this fic! 
@alyxmastershipper RYAN!! INCREDIBLY TALENTED MUTUAL THAT YOU ARE!! 
there's always been a rainbow hangin' over your head
If “aasdsdfghhjkl” was a person it was me reading this fic. Eddie comes out to Buck, receives a quirky mug, and gets together with the love of his life. In that order.
@bekkachaos Wonderful, amazing Bekka xxx
lose yourself in the feeling
I am a sucker for ‘accidental kisses’ and this was just wonderful. Buck is so excited about Maddie and Chim getting engaged that he kisses Eddie when he tells him. 
start me up, open my eyes
Okay, the mild sexual content tag is a lie, nothing has ever been closer to smut without actually being smut than this fic, I have never been so wound up reading a fic. Bekka builds the tension so so well. 
@sibylsleaves honestly I'm still a little in shock that we're mutuals now so please excuse me while I fangirl over your incredible writing!
with a bird at your door
Eddie starts spending all his time with Buck. Which would be fine if it weren't for the fact that Buck is in love with him. This fic is the perfect mixture of pining, angst, and a happy ending. And yes I think about this fic frequently I love it okay. 
@mysteriouslyyounggalaxy last but certainly not least (for now). hello lovely xx
(tell the gravedigger) better dig two
Missing scenes from while eddie is trapped in the well followed by the most perfect extended reunion scene. We all know I am a sucker for fics based on the well incident, it’s literally how i started writing for buddie but omg this fic!!!! 
Remember to share the love around and happy hiatus to you all.
Love, Meegs xxxx
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emphistic · 1 month
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"I'm Lactose Intolerant"
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Things Reader Should Acknowledge: I ACCIDENTALLY POSTED THIS ALREADY BECAUSE I FORGOT TO SAVE IT AS A DRAFT, i have yet to get the hang of tumblr, yuuji hasnt been born yet, the itadori parents neglect their children so grandpa takes care of them, waaaaaay later is when yuuji is born, sukuna gets his tattoos when he is older
Prologue: As summer nears its end, and autumn takes its place, you find yourself in quite the situation. A new family has arrived in the neighborhood, and your parents have tasked you with greeting your new neighbors. A wacky grandpa, a gloomy tween. Seriously, could things get any worse?
A/N: Sukuna is 10 years old, while reader is 9 years old. However, Sukuna was held back a grade, so guess who is joining your class this year? *cue the confetti*
Please REFRAIN from REPOSTING MY WORK (REBLOGS ARE EXEMPTED FROM THIS RULE)
PS: i know little kids shouldnt be walking the streets alone, but lets just pretend the world is a better place
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Chores are boring. Errands, on the other hand? Well, not so much.
You shielded your eyes from the rays of the sun as you walked down the street, avoiding the cracks on the pavement. The sky bled as the sun set and the songs of the birds started to come to a halt. It was a typical Saturday, help get the groceries, head home, and assist with dinner as much as possible. However, what wasn't typical was the fact that there was a moving company's truck blocking your way home.
Wow, there's definitely a better way to go about this, you sigh. Mindlessly, you kick a pebble aside and tighten your grip on your tote bag as your stride continues.
Several men in navy colored uniforms carry boxes as another man, who you estimate is a septuagenarian, surveys the workers from the front lawn of his new house. The man, who you also assume is your new neighbor, has his hands clasped behind his back and wears a green wool sweater.
Deciding to be polite, you clear your throat, neaten up your braids, and slowly approach the man, cautious as you try not to give him a heart attack. At nine years old, one may not know much, but one might know that killing your elderly neighbor is a pretty wack first impression.
The man looks quite surprised to see you approach, and even raises a white brow.
Okay, maybe this is a bad idea, you think as your palms start to sweat. You go through several introductions through your mind just to go with the most lame one.
"Hello, sir. My name is Y/N L/N. I'm your . . . uhh, new neighbor," you cringed at yourself before holding out a hand to the man.
"Ah, wasn't expecting to meet my neighbors on the first day here. I am Mr. Itadori, pleasure to meet you," his voice sounded like that of an old man's, yet, it had such a warm, cozy feel to it. He took your hand and gave it a firm shake.
"Likewise," you say, after a few seconds of silence.
"Should a girl, — pardon my rudeness — as young as you, be walking out here alone at this time?"
"Aha, my parents trust this neighborhood enough. And anyway, I was only getting groceries from the store, it's not too far from this block actually." You pointed a finger in the direction of said store.
"Wow, you must be pretty responsible for your parents to be sending you out for groceries, huh? Good to know some children in this neighborhood help out their families," Mr. Itadori turned to face a boy, probably not much older than you, who was carrying boxes into the house when he put emphasis on the word "some".
The boy had pink unruly hair, that was slicked back and spiky. You held back a giggle at the sight.
"Grandpa, I'm literally moving furniture into the house. What are you looking at me for?" The boy grumbled, but he didn't stop as he moved the boxes.
"I never said you didn't help out. I was just simply telling Y/N here, about how some children help out their families. No need to get upset now, Sukuna." Mr. Itadori gave a small chuckle, before abruptly turning to face you.
"Oh, right! How rude of me, I haven't introduced you to my grandson."
"Oh, no worries. You guys are probably busy—" You began, before being cut off.
"Nonsense! Sukuna! Come here, boy."
Sukuna muttered something, and dropped off a box by the front of the house before moving over to you and his grandpa.
Now that the boy was closer, you could make out his red eyes, and the frown on his face. Looking back at Mr. Itadori, you noticed he did not share the same qualities as his grandson, and instead had brown eyes.
"What are you waiting for? Introduce yourself!" Mr. Itadori lightly pushed Sukuna closer to you.
The taller boy stared at you for what seemed like forever, before averting his eyes to the ground and keeping them there. "Name's Sukuna."
"Y/N. But I think your grandpa already mentioned that," you tried to lighten the mood.
You swear you heard him say something along the lines of "pretty name" under his breath, but before you could ask, Sukuna retreated to his boxes. His grandpa looked displeased at that. Actually, that's quite an understatement. He looked furious with Sukuna, but he didn't do anything other than sigh and bid you adieu and good night.
You slowly walked back to your house, your arrival being a little later than usual, which your parents questioned you about, to which you explained that there was a truck in your way.
When it was time for bed, you did as you usually did. Showered, changed into your pajamas and watched a movie before cleaning up and preparing to actually go to bed. As you moved to close your window blinds, you noticed something you hadn't seen in a long time — considering no one's occupied the house next door since it was put on sale — there was a window right across from yours, and the light was on.
You didn't plan on becoming a creep at such a young age, but due to curiosity, you didn't peel your eyes away from the window. It surprised you to see that the room across from yours was a bedroom belonging to none other then Sukuna. When you saw the pink spikes of his hair come near the window, you quickly shut the blinds.
The next morning, your mom shook you awake.
You groaned, "Mom. . . What is it?"
"We have new neighbors, honey! I've already started prepping for baking an apple pie for them—" You let her ramble on while you were still half-awake.
Oh, right . . . you never mentioned your meeting with the Itadoris. Now you have to introduce yourself to them, yet again.
"—I just need you to grab a few ingredients for me, if you don't mind."
"Sure, Mom. No problem." You stretched out your arms and yawned.
"Perfect! I'll let you get ready then. I'll give the list on your way out." Then, your mom got up, and shut the door.
You yawned again and rubbed your forehead. This was definitely going to be an interesting day, to say the least.
You met your mom downstairs and she instructed you on the ingredients you needed to purchase. "Uh huh, got it. Thanks. Bye, Mom!
Still half-asleep, you slowly slipped on your sneakers and headed out through the door. The sun warmed your face, yet sent a chill down your spine.
Apples and lemon.
Apples. . .
And lemons.
You hummed to yourself as you walked down the street, passing by the Itadori house.
Apples and lemons—
"Gah!" A little rock got in your way, and you were about to faceplant onto the sidewalk when you felt a firm hand on your shoulder reel you back upward.
You turned to see who your savior was, and cocked your head to the side in surprise.
"Sukuna? What are you doing out here?"
"No 'thanks for saving me, Sukuna'? Also, contrary to your belief, other people in this neighborhood get out the house too, y'know?"
You scoffed, jutting out your bottom lip, "Thanks."
Sukuna held a smug look on his face.
"So . . . you gonna take your hand off my shoulder, or should I do that tor you?"
He looked taken aback, and swiftly returned his hand to his hoodie pocket. "I have to go get groceries. My grandpa sent me, because our house is basically empty?" Sukuna acted as if that was common knowledge.
"What did you have for dinner last night, then?"
"Ordered in."
You mumbled, "Figured."
"Anyway, Grandpa told me you know where the closest grocery store is? I need . . . directions."
"Oh! Right," you scratched the back of your neck. "I'm actually heading there right now. You can come with." If Sukuna didn't want to go with you, he certainly didn't show it (surprisingly).
"So you're actually going to turn this way, down here, across this weird looking house or something — I actually don't even know if it has someone living in it — then go in front of this—"
"Stop talking, and maybe we'll get there faster," Sukuna muttered.
You turned around to face him; he had his hands in his pocket and wore a bored look on his face. You huffed.
"Go have someone else show you the way, then. Y'know, I was actually trying to be nice to you and all. I'm even showing you the shortcut. And now look at how you're treating me." You turned away from him.
"'Trying to be nice'? Please. You haven't asked me how day was going. 'Trying to be nice' my ass."
You ignored his use profanity at such a young age, and you came to a skidding halt; Sukuna even bumped into your back when you stopped abruptly.
"What is your problem!? So what if I haven't asked you how your day was going? SO WHAT? You haven't asked me either. If you don't like me just leave. me. alone!"
"People are so uptight these days," Sukuna shrugged.
"Uptight? UPTIGHT? Please, be my guest, and show me how I'm the uptight one here." You couldn't believe this dude. He's the only other kid in this neighborhood — besides your sibling — and he refuses to be cooperative, kind, nonetheless, a decent person.
The rest of the walk to the grocery store happened in silence. And believe me, the silence was loooouuuuddd. You wholeheartedly believed Sukuna would leave, but he didn't. Which made you even more mad.
The bell above the door chimed when you stepped in the store, out of pettiness, you didn't even hold the door for Sukuna. He scoffed at that, and you turned around to face him. "Well, here you are. The grocery store. Happy now?"
"I'm never happy."
Wow, he must've been dropped on the head as a baby, because he certainly did not get the personality from his grandpa.
You walked through the aisles one by one and searched for the items your mother requested.
Apples and lemons.
You didn't even bother placing them in a bag, insisting on carrying them yourself. Meanwhile, Sukuna was still trailing behind you, much like a lost puppy. His groceries were all in a bag, and he looked ready to pay, but he was still behind you.
Finally, you got sick of his weirdness, and peered over your shoulder to get a look of his face, which was frowning, "Why are you following me?"
He looked like he was pondering, thinking of a way to answer your question. "Girls shouldn't be walking around alone. Especially you."
"Ugh, there you go again. Always thinking you're better than everyone else. And, whaddya mean 'especially me,' huh? You don't think I can handle myself? Are you here to protect me or something? Swooping in to save the day, my knight in shining armor? Seriously, Sukuna."
He groaned, and dragged his free hand down his face, "I came from a not so safe neighborhood. Can't you see I'm just trying to look out for you? If some man came up and harassed you, and I was shopping in some other aisle, would you blame me too?" His voice softened on the last part.
"Forget it, you're right. I'm wrong," you sighed and walked to the register.
When you got home, your mom ushered you inside and hurried to start on the apple pie. You bit your nails as she worked, and she quickly took notice of that.
"Something wrong, sweetie?"
You shook your head, and mouthed a simple "no".
While you were upstairs reading a book, you heard the beeping of the oven, signaling the completion of the baking process. Before you could even put down your book, your mother called out to you from downstairs.
She welcomed you in the kitchen and took great care in wrapping the freshly baked pie in tinfoil and sending you off to the Itadori house. But before that happened, however, she made you memorize your speech, reminding you to inform your next door neighbors of who originally made the pie. And with a soft pat on the back from your mom, you were off.
It was a quarter past 12 o'clock when you finally found the courage to knock on your neighbor's front door. You heard a "coming!" from inside the house, and returned your hand to its side.
Loud footsteps came closer until finally the door was flung open. You were greeted by the sight of Mr. Itadori in a fluffy red robe, and equally fluffy slippers.
"Ah! Y/N. What a pleasant surprise to see you here."
You stuttered a bit, "Hi, Mr. Itadori. My mom and I wanted to formally introduce ourselves, and welcome you to the neighborhood — I didn't mention our very much brief meeting yesterday."
"Oh wow! You can tell your mother I appreciate her kind welcome." He turned his head into the house, and called for, "Sukuna! Come here, boy."
"Oh, I wouldn't want to be a bother—"
"Agh, you children. Always the same. Nonsense, Y/N. Utter nonsense."
Sukuna stood behind his grandpa in record time, his speed surprised you. "What's she doing here?" He sneered. You offered him a glare in return while Mr. Itadori was oblivious.
"Don't be rude to our kind neighbor. She's here to formally introduce herself."
"Again?"
"Yes. Again."
"Whatever."
Your eyes flickered back and forth between the Itadoris' banter. "I've brought some apple pie — my mom baked it."
Mr. Itadori's eyes lightened up as you presented the tinfoil covered dish to him. "It smells delicious! You really didn't have to, my dear."
"It was no big deal, I promise," you laughed (nervously).
"I will put this on the counter, one second," Mr. Itadori walked away, leaving you and Sukuna alone. The taller boy crossed his arms and leaned against the doorway.
"Apple pie? Really? Are you trying to kill me and my grandpa? I'm lactose intolerant. We're lactose intolerant. He just didn't want to seem rude, so he's putting it away."
"Oh. . . uhh, I didn't know that—"
"I can tell. You didn't think to ask first? How considerate of you, Y/N."
You stumbled on your words.
"I'm just messing with you. Apple pie is his absolute favorite."
Your jaw dropped six feet, before you came back to your senses and rolled your eyes, "Did you have to scare me like that?"
He laughed aloud, "Duh. Shoulda seen the look on your face. Priceless!" He continued to laugh, while your expression remained stoic, trying not to laugh as well. You didn't want to give him the satisfaction of thinking he was actually funny.
When his laughter subsided, he cocked his head to the side. "What's with the face? Girls don't know how to joke around or something?"
You frowned.
Mr. Itadori returned to the both of you and patted his grandson on the back. "Well! Thank you again, Y/N. Tell your family I say thanks and appreciate their kindness."
"Of course. I'll be going now." You waved to Mr. Itadori — feigning ignorance to Sukuna — and walked back to your house next door.
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When Sukuna and his grandpa sat at their newly assembled dining table, they both couldn't believe how good the apple pie tasted. Sukuna even asked for a second slice.
Mr. Itadori broke the silence, "So, school starts tomorrow."
Sukuna glanced at his elder, and raised a brow.
"Since you don't know anyone else at your new school, you can ask Y/N for help. She'll be in your grade anyway."
Sukuna sighed, "Grandpa, why are girls so difficult?"
"Ohoho," Mr. Itadori's laughter boomed throughout the house. "You're a funny one, Sukuna," and he ruffled his grandson's unruly hair, messing it up more.
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lemonstars-cat-blog · 6 months
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ok fuck Starclan we need a bad bitch who thinks she is above the rules and she is RIGHT fuck the rules girlie if you love her you love her go get your fuckin riverclan girlfriend.
Is it weird that I miss Silverstream? I feel like no matter what she doesnt regret a thing and would do it all over again even if it meant she'd die again and again. Shes stubborn as hell and the rules mean nothing to her, the only thing that upsets her is that she wasn't there to raise her kits.
Au shit
ANYWAY i feel like Graystripe should have been more involved in the lives of his TWO VERY CLOSE CHILDHOOD FRIENDS? CHILDREN?? like i get he was gone for a while that's fine he cpuldnt help that but 😭😭😭 idk? before he was lost to the clans, after he got back, hello?? where is he. come on man do something.
(btw this is a mothxleaf au because ummm leaf deserves better than crow and also oooh parallels of riverclan x thunderclan relationship oooooh wow i’m so creative)
SOOO in this AU Gray is much more involved and immediately sees the telltale signs of "ohh ok yeah lol she's sneaking out to meet someone" in Leafpool because HE DID THAT TOO!! He only really stresses to her that she has to be careful, think about what she's doing, dont get in over her head and don't forget her duties to her clan. If he could go back, he'd do so much differently, and he doesn't want Leafpool to go through the same pain he did.
Well after that whole big talk, Silver, who’s still watching over him, overhears some of this (namely where she was mentioned bc she wants all the gossip and backtalk even if it’s about her) and decides like. “oh my god. i have to get involved in this.” so she plays matchmaker a bit, becomes a cool aunt to leafpool
anyway i LOOOOVVEEE LOVE LOVE the idea of Mothwing being wrapped up in starclan’s prophecies with the three because holy SHITTT URGHHRHR LIKE. SHES AN ATHEIST AND STARCLAN CANT EVEN COMMUNICATE W HER BUT SHES STILL A PART OF THE GGRAND PLAN BUT BC SHE DOESNT BELIEVE SHE CANT SEE IT AND ITS SO,. IDK??? ITS COOL IDK
i don’t think starclan as a whole is evil bc i don’t think silver is doing this out of any ill intent if anything it’s breaking down the stupid rules starclan is so keen on enforcing. i feel like gray would big time support leaf and moth once the truth comes out, and silver would support leaf during her starclan trial like “you fuckers wanted those kits born, this literally had to happen bc y’all wanted it to and you’re mad about it???”
OH OH ALSO CINDERPELT!! WOULD BE SO INVOLVED BC EVEN AFTER ALL THOSE YEARS SHE HOLDS GUILT OVER SILVER’S DEATH AND IS TERRIFIED THAT IT WAS ACTUALLY STARCLAN PUNISHING HER THAT CAUSED HER DEATH AND IS SO AFRAID OF LOSING LEAFPOOL TOO
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THE GERUDO POST
(aka an attempt at a critique of how gerudos were handled in BotW and before)
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Oh no. TOTK being right around the corner, it might finally be time for the Gerudo Post.
(aka half of the reason why I made a Zelda sideblog in the first place)
So I want to preface all of this by saying that, as you could probably tell already, I’ve always adored the gerudos. They have fascinated my small child brain when I was 7; then the obsession made its comeback when I was 14, and now, here we are, almost 28, and I’m still thinking about the gerudos. I think they might be among my favorite fictional cultures for their potential and their understated storyline. I guess growing up in a very Arabic neighborhood, coupled with being bi-culturally latinx (?? does Brazil count?? you tell me), also always made them feel like home to me –especially when I was very young and there was not a lot of cool female representation flying around that managed to involve fiercely independent PoC women, flaws and teeth included.
This whole weird-essay-thing tries to do two things. First: analyze the place gerudos have occupied in the series, their initial problematisms and their subtextual narrative arc during the Myth Era coupled with their relationship to Ganondorf. Second: tiptoe to Breath of the Wild and poke it with a stick to see what happens –and in doing that, explain why I believe a lot of their characterization was defanged in service of smoothing their past with the hylians instead of deepening the culture on its own terms, and why I’m a little apprehensive about what that might mean for TotK even though I adore seeing the best girls at it again.
Those are the uhh terms of service??
And now, we must go back to 1998.
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OCARINA OF TIME ERA
There’s so many things about the gerudos that are noteworthy and rich, and they’ve made for a complex piece of Zelda lore ever since their introduction –and when I say complex, I don’t 100% mean it as praise. The very racially charged decisions made about their inclusion have been discussed at length by the fandom, especially when it comes to orientalist and Islamophobic tropes being deployed pretty thoughtlessly in Ocarina of Time (their sigil being literally a crescent moon and star originally, the parallels are pretty obviously there).
We’re talking about a band of amazon-like, big-nosed brown women from the desert ruled by a single Scary Evil Man born once every hundred years hellbent on conquering Hyrule who they apparently worship like a god, characterized primarily as thieves, decked in jewelry and orientalist-inspired harem/belly-dancing clothing, hostile to the white good guys of Hyrule (especially men), unblessed by the Goddesses and so deprived of elongated ears (this is true for OoT –we’ll come back to that), also known as a demon tribe with their deity straight-out described as evil-looking by Navi (on my way to cancel you on twitter Navi you watch out), and secretly led by evil twin witches who can turn into a single seductress and, as two mothers, raised their Scary Evil Guy king who happens to basically be the devil.
In so few words, gerudos are the future that liberals want.
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It’s worth notice, also, that Ganondorf’s characterization in this game is… kind of relentlessly uncomfortable to play through, especially before the 7 year skip. The utter assumption of depraved and evil intents from every character surrounded by dialogue that does little to hide its biases in spite of having generally very little proof to back them up –even though, in the game’s context, every character is correct to call his eyes evil and the darkness of his skin a moral judgment in on itself. The scene where Zelda demands that we believe her conclusion that the sole and only brown guy in the entire kingdom is evil and will do harm, and the game straight out refuses to progress until we concede that her dreams are prophetic and that this man must be stopped at any cost even though she has no more proof than her discomfort… hits different on replay.
I’m restating all of this not to pretend I’m making a novel and thought-provoking point, but to bounce back on a tumblr post I saw a while back (that I can’t find anymore!! I’ll link it if I find it again) –and so express what it is that gripped me with the gerudos in spite of their pretty damning depiction… and actually maybe thanks to it.
There’s a surprising amount of texture to Ocarina of Time’s worldbuilding that exists folded within the things introduced and left hanging, or in its subtext –and whether on purpose or not, I believe it is why people keep coming back to this iteration of Hyrule.
What was that about the king of Hyrule unifying a war-torn country? Why did the gerudos break the bridge connecting them to the rest of the kingdom during the 7 year timeskip while still worshiping Ganondorf, and why are the carpenters trying to rebuild it against their apparent wishes? What was that about gerudos imprisoning hylian men trying to force entry into their lands? What was that about the secret death torture chambers right next to the Royal Family’s tomb and connected to the race of people who were, apparently, born to serve them?
Nothing? Oh okay… okay… okay….
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The same can be said about this strange depiction of this hostile tribe, consistently described as wicked yet suddenly friendly once you prove you deserve their respect once you... defeat them, so you now have joined them? Ocarina of Time isn’t very consistent when it comes to characterizing them as their occupation (thieves) or as a proper culture, with a king and a strange system of rulership that seem to involve at least 5 people: Ganondorf, the Twinrova, Nabooru and the unnamed random woman who decides you’re now part of the gerudos because you slashed enough of them with your sword and hookshot, which, uhh ok.
They’re but a ragtag and negligible group when discussed next to gorons and zoras and hylians, but they also clearly have their own religion and at least a 400-hundred years old history (probably far longer than this) and hints of a written language of their own. I’m not sure the game itself knows what it wants them to be, beyond: intimidating and hot and cool, but also wicked and, because of Ganondorf and the way you barge in their forbidden fortress (heh) with the explicit intent to dismantle their king, in apparent need to be saved from themselves.
Speaking of rulership and the Spirit Temple, let’s have a quick tangent about Nabooru: I always found her characterization when meeting with Child Link pretty strange. I refuse to mention the promised reward, which feeds into everything orientalist mentioned above, but I always found her moral compass so extremely convoluted for someone coming from gerudo culture. Nabooru says that, despite being a cool thief herself, she resents Ganondorf for killing people as well as stealing from women and children. Stealing... from women. Nabooru. Why are you this pressed that he steals from women!!! This feels so out of place, that the only girl of that hostile culture that betrays her king and befriends you, is the one that upholds moral values that only a hylian could possibly hold.
Either way: the strange unquestioned contempt of the game for them as a culture, mixed with the occasional bouts of heart, friendliness and badassery, makes it hard not to consider their depiction as pretty biased in favor of the hylians finding them at once exotic, scary and exciting, and could hide a more complex reality you might only get one side of –especially when you know there were originally plans for Ganondorf’s character to be more gray and motivated than what the campy final version ended up being. To be blunt: even in the context of a game for children, and maybe because of that fact, it all reads like a reductionist and imperialist/colonialist reading of a more complex situation.
This might seem like A Lot coming from a game where the actual game writing can be this overall flimsy and simplistic due to the standards of the time (it’s rough, it's so rough). But I would have never dwelt on that thought about a little children’s game if not for the mainline entries that came soon after, because... ooo boy.
The sense you’re not getting the whole story was certainly not helped by the introduction of Wind Waker Ganondorf, and the chilling emptiness of Gerudo Desert in Twilight Princess.
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AFTER THE TIMELINE SPLIT
(I’m skipping Majora’s Mask, not because I dislike them in the game or think they’re not worth talking about, but because it’s a parallel universe and they’re never even called gerudos and their reality seems extremely different from their sisters in Hyrule so I think it’s okay to call them tangential and not dive too deep in this particular depiction)
Here’s something I want to highlight about gerudos and how they were characterized before BotW came along: their absence. Not only their physical absence, the lack of any gerudo character that calls themselves gerudo, but their absence from the text itself.
It’s not that Wind Waker and Twilight Princess retroactively scratch them off existence: we can clearly see Nabooru’s stained glass art in WW as well as recognize them being mentioned in Ganondorf’s final boss soliloquy, and WELL there’s quite a lot to say about their imprint over the world of TP. They are there –or at least they... were there. But nobody ever talks about what happened.
In Wind Waker, there was the deluge. It’s assumed lots of people died then, and those who survived scattered across the Great Sea. Are they sealed under the waves? Have they drowned? Is Jolene, Linebeck’s ex-girlfriend in Phantom Hourglass, a distant relative of one of the rare survivors? It’s unclear, beyond the fact that Ganondorf is the only living gerudo we see in this entire branch of the Timeline split.
In Twilight Princess, the desert which bares their name is empty. The hylians never mention that it used to be the name of a tribe: they’re not even named when Ganondorf is introduced for the first time, reduced once again to a mere band of thieves. We learn his plans to steal the Triforce in OoT were foiled, and that he may have turned to war. Then he lost the war, and was executed in Arbiter’s Ground: a strange structure in the desert, a mixture between a temple, a prison and a coliseum. What looks like gerudo writing coexists with hylian symbols, which often look much fresher. This dungeon is the Shadow Temple of TP: a prison hosting the worst criminals the kingdom has ever known, now haunted and cursed. Besides the locations, the only character that vaguely look gerudo in the entire game besides Ganondorf is Telma, a character with pointed ears that never seems to identify as anything but a hylian. What happened? Who’s to say. Nobody ever says anything. Not even Ganondorf bothers to mention them the way he did in WW –and though the game’s story is quite focused on another exiled tribe seeking revenge and dominion over Hyrule as retribution, the parallel is never explicitly drawn. So who’s to say what happened there. Who’s to say.
And in A Link to the Past and the games forward? The only mention of other gerudo characters are Koume and Kotake, resurrecting their son in the Oracles games through their own sacrifice and failing to bring anything back but a monstrosity incapable of making conscious decisions. Granted, most games in that extremely weird Fallen Timeline predate OoT and therefore had yet to make gerudos up at all. Still: canonically, between the gap of OoT and ALLTP, whatever it may be, gerudos disappeared here as well.
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I think there’s something subtle and a little heartbreaking about the fact that no matter what Ganondorf does, the gerudos always end up dying out. His yearning for Hyrule, its gentler wind and the Triforce blessing its lands always costs him the kingdom that he does have already.
Now, does he care? A lot of people would argue that he doesn’t, that he used them like pawns for his own ambition and saw them as servants more-so than sisters, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it was Nintendo’s official opinion, but… One very powerful thing about most of Ganondorf’s incarnations (focusing on the human ones) is that he never seems to reject his cultural heritage. They could have gone for him wearing more kingly hylian stuff given the whole underlying theme of envy and pride surrounding his character, but never once does he try to look more hylian, beyond the ear situation that seems to be tied to the Triforce of Power? Either way: he is gerudo. Several of his outfits reference his mothers, as well as general gerudo patterning and jewelry. His heritage is something he proudly displays, even hundred of years in the future when there is no one left to remember what it means but him. I think it’s a very potent piece of characterization, an arc that crosses over multiple game and says something pretty intense about this character’s fate and his inherent destructiveness over the things he touches –starting with the Triforce, all the way up to his very own body and mind. His mental breakdown by the end of Wind Waker, when the king of Hyrule himself forces him to give up on the thing he sacrificed everything for, takes a new kind of weight with the whole picture taken into account.
(not to excuse genocide or general egomania-fueled madness and violence, but one thing doesn’t mean the other isn’t also relevant)
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Regardless of whether this is a tragedy for Ganondorf as their uhh complete failure of a king, honestly, it is undeniably a tragedy for the gerudos themselves: a once-in-a-lifetime joyful event turned into a never-ending nightmare from which there seems to be no escape, their legacy now condemned to fade to black, leaving nothing behind but a demon boar forever laying ruin upon the world.
One may say I’m taking on the bleakest explication for the gerudos’ absence when there could be others. It’s true! Perhaps the gerudos are just chilling off-screen, completely fine, not interested in whatever is happening in the kingdom nearby and their disaster child having yet another temper tantrum about not being the Goddesses’ favorite boy. It’s possible! But regardless, what little elements we do possess as players doesn’t seem to support this, even if it remains possible –and regardless of actual gerudo lives, gerudo culture is definitively a goner in every single timeline.
Even if they did survive... Hyrule still won its unification war.
(I won’t mention Skyward Sword as they are not really a thing there, except for a butterfly that seems to suggest the Gerudo Province was a thing before the gerudo people –I don’t know what to do with this honestly– and the whole Groose situation, which, I’m not sure what to make of either beyond the fact that he may have gotten cursed by opposing Demise? And then went on to start the gerudo tribe, which ended up being an all-women group for some reason? Maybe? It’s not confirmed? I feel like it’s more of a fun tidbit than a central piece of the gerudo puzzle, so I’ll leave it there like I would a cool rock I brought back from a walk and that I don’t know where to put in my house)
Then, Breath of the Wild happened and changed things.
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BREATH OF THE WILD
(Additional short note, but: while I won’t mention Four Swords Adventure, since it’s a weird one that almost nobody has played and severely messes with the Timeline, we kind of see the beginnings of what is about to happen in Breath of the Wild in this game –gerudos coming back without much explanation, then distancing themselves from Ganondorf to become friends with hylians because he was too hungry for power and now they are nice and have good reputation because they are our friendsss)
I was actually so happy to learn gerudos were making a comeback in a mainline Zelda game, and this got me more excited about Breath of the Wild than basically anything else the game involved. And getting to explore the Desert once again, meeting this new batch of impossibly tall buff girls, getting more about their language and their culture, Riju and the rest of the little girls are adorable, the grandmas are so cool, the sand seals??? sign me the fuck up??? And above it all, hanging around Gerudo Town at night and feeling as warm and cozy as little me liked to imagine how freeing it would feel, to stay there and watch the desert behind the safety of their walls in OoT… This was great. I loved it.
It was a huge compensation for the criticism I’m about to make, but did leave me with… questions regarding how their culture was going to be handled moving forward.
I’ll start with something small yet deeply revelatory, then work my way from there.
So... gerudos’ ears are pointy now.
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This is pretty significant. Lore-wise, it’s been said that the elongated ears of hylians are there so they can better hear the voices of the gods. It’s considered a sign of holiness in-universe. There's a bunch of really thoughtful analysis on tumblr over that whole Ganondorf ear situation, which is a mess but also very interesting, but the short answer is: I think the absence of pointy ears was a clear design choice to originally signify them as Less Good. Even when Ganondorf gets pointier ears, they never get as long as hylians’. Worth noting: not every non-gerudo character has pointy ears: gorons, zoras and ritos (among others) do not possess this trait, and there are even some humans that have regular rounded ears in the series –though they always seem to be of lesser relevance, if not downright peasants in Twilight Princess. Pointy ears always tended to implied a strict hierarchy in the series: basically, the more pointy, the more Protagonist you become.
(also their eyes becoming green instead of the traditional yellow/golden, which looks more wicked and demonic --and cooler also tbh)
The pointy ears imply two things. From within the game, this could be interpreted in two ways: either that gerudos… converted, for a lack of a better term, and are now considered holy through their worship of the Golden Goddesses and/or Hylia, or that their mingling with hylians through tens of thousands of years had them acquiring this trait out of sheer genetic override (though they have kept their mostly-women birth rates, their big nose, darker skin –for the most part– and red hair). Probably a healthy mixture of both. Design-wise, it signifies something quite simple to the player: they are on hylians’ side now. They are good guys. We can trust them, even if they still have a little spice in them. They aligned themselves with us and against Ganon in all of its manifestations (even if he’s but an angry ghastly pig being parasitic to everything it touches in this iteration). They are on the side of Good, definitively, and will fight evil by our side.
On that note, I think it’s worth bringing out another major change from their initial iteration, which is their overt friendship with Hyrule as a whole, and with the Royal Family in particular. Despite not allowing any voe inside their walls (we’ll come back to this), their relationship with hylians is pretty neat. They have booming trade roads, travel and meet with the rest of the cultures, and are fierce enemies with the Yiga clan, who are renowned for being huge Calamity Ganon supporters. The tables certainly have turned. I want to bring out, in particular, Urbosa’s friendship with the queen and her role as the cool aunt taking care of Zelda and protecting her from evil (to be noted: I am not familiar with Age of Calamity so if I’m mischaracterizing her in any way, please let me know). The gerudo sense of sisterhood has been extended to the royals they used to fight against. I would go on and say the cultures peacefully coexist, but I think that what we’re looking at here is a case of vassal behavior, just like we used to have from zoras (in the non-Fallen Timelines) and gorons. This is a huge departure from gerudos being openly rejecting of Hylian culture in their initial iteration, and something that is worth returning to later.
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Okay. Now it’s time to mention the weird obsession BotW gerudos have with romance. I didn’t take notice of my issues with their writing until I realized how prevalent of a theme that was. Now, the reason given for gerudos to refuse entry to males (of every race) has much more to do with preventing young gerudos to make mistakes than anything else, and is actively being put into question by the younger generations –which would make sense. But the amount of NPCs that either lament their lack of match, talk about their husbands (because they marry now apparently) or are invested in romance, and a very limited understanding of romance at that (heterosexual, closed, etc), makes for much more of the population that I initially expected. There’s no mention of what’s going on with their males, if there are new males being born and either exiled or abandoned, or if Ganondorf being technically still alive have have cut them off male heirs. Either way: no more kings, only girlbosses chiefs.
To have the gerudos so interconnected with Hyrule, not only through trade but through extremely coded romance where they have to make themselves palatable to a future male partner and enforce fidelity, was… a choice. The extremely brief and skippable mention of gerudos sometimes going to Castle Town in search for boyfriends in OoT became half of their personality traits in this game. We went from a race that was fiercely independent and mocking of the unworthy men who tried to mingle with them, to… this. Now I’m not saying some of the sidequests aren’t cute, or that I didn’t like the wedding, or that the grandma near the abandoned statue of Hylia (so she was worshipped at some point) clocking us and talking about her love life wasn’t one of my favorite gerudo conversations. I’m saying that the vibes have definitively changed. For the better? I’m not sure.
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I once stumbled upon an article that said that Breath of the Wild gerudos were a huge improvement compared to their original introduction, because they were no longer presented as evil and hostile thieves groveling at the boot of a single man, but as a full culture allied with the protagonist and actively involved in the story, while still getting their Cool Girl Badass moment (again can’t find it anymore, I’ll link it if I stumble upon it again). I see where this comes from, but I honestly can’t help but consider it a reading that assumes something pretty major (though through no fault of their own, as the games tend to hammer this down as hard as they can), and that being hylians as the unquestioned anchor of Good.
Which, in spite of what the games want me to believe, I… feel uncomfortable taking at face value.
To me, regarding how gerudos are being incorporated in that goodie narrative, this is kind of a case of surface-level feminism trumping over colonialist/imperialist concerns. It becomes more important to perform the aesthetics of being cool and friendly and independent than scratching at any deeper problem that would risk making people uncomfortable. This is kind of Green Skin Ganon all over again: oh wait, isn’t it a little icky to have the evil bad guy being brown while faced by the most aryan-looking ass heroes of all time? Okay, then let’s take the brown guy and make his skin green so we don’t have to feel bad anymore that the conflict has racial undertones!! Solved!! There’s nothing questionable about changing a PoC's features to make it more monstrous and less human, right?
To me, it’s kind of the coward option: instead of accepting the messy reality those initial choices created (and their interesting nuances if taken at face value), let’s just… rewrite the PoC culture’s history to make it feel less uncomfortable for the white heroes. In many ways, it is an extension of what hylians have always done: scrubbing the weird and messy things about the past and shoving them deep down into the spooky well and far into the desert prison and away in alternate hellish dimensions, and then make up a very simple story where they get to feel good about themselves –except this time, it’s the fabric of the games, the literal reality, bending backward to make it happen. Which, in my opinion, makes it much worse than before. Now, there’s no conversation. The fabric of reality is changing their own history so that there is nothing to discuss anymore. Ganondorf was always evil incarnate. He never had any point. It was always 100% his own fault, his own hubris, his own fated wickedness. He was always demonic (and green, very important –having a flashback to people on twitter accusing artists restoring the TotK green skin to the original brown of wanting to make Ganondorf black, and like….. how do I put it gently…..)
And, above all else: gerudo are to distance themselves from his legacy so they can stay in the club of the Good and Just and Holy.
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Because here’s the messy thing: as much as I love seeing the gerudos again in Breath of the Wild and as much I love for them to have survived the Era of Myth (??? somehow ???), this… kind of changes Ganondorf’s character arc. No longer do we have the story of a king who wanted more, either for his people, for himself or both, and led his culture to its destruction in his search for absolute Power, while remaining ironically incapable of maintaining what little he already had. This starts from him kneeling to the king of Hyrule in OoT and leads to the deluge, Arbiter’s Ground, his own mothers dying for the sake of his failed resurrection. Breath of the Wild changes this: now, the gerudo were apparently fine without him? They apparently did their own thing and became suddenly and inexplicably disconnected from his actions? I know it’s kind of implied they side with hylians at the end of OoT, but it’s honestly never really explored why they would cheer for the death of their king while never seeming to resent him before except for Nabooru –there are mentions of brainwashing for those who resist him (as well as “other groups in the desert”, tho they are never mentioned again), but it’s hardly a proper plot point for the majority of the tribe, aaaand they still die by Wind Waker in the Adult Timeline, in spite of their potential alliegance…
(again, this shift towards submitting to Hyrule actually started with Four Swords Adventure, getting crisper with each iteration)
There used to be this polite blur regarding Ganondorf’s relationship to them, how much he used them and how much he acted in their name (with arguments for both sides), and I think this messy and debatable question mark was one of the most compelling aspects of his character. Gerudos rejecting their relationship at a near-cosmic, reality-bending level, removes a huge layer of complexity to both parties… all for the benefit of making hylians come out cleaner out of this whole exchange, their moral grayness barely a whisper in the distance.
I’ll kind of go on the record and say that I suspect the addition of Demise to the canon to serve a similar purpose (at least in part): if Ganondorf becomes but the manifestation of a demonic curse, and is no longer an extremely messy character brimming with agency and drive, forcing the heavens to reckon with said agency in a way he was never meant to access, born from a complex set of circumstances from which we clearly get only a limited and biased perspective, then it becomes extremely clear that he’s a Bad in a way that isn’t worth exploring further. Even if he does have some points, he is a Bad. It’s what matters most. Not to say I even hate what this angle can bring to the table or that I want him to become Good (I don’t –I’ll talk more about why I dislike most takes on him being a helpless victim to the curse), but once again, who benefits from adding another Unquestionned Baddie to the equation to rest upon? Not him, and not the gerudos, that’s for sure.
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So. Why did I, me, personally, like the gerudos in the first place?
Beyond the inherent coolness factor of their culture and the fascinating mysteries of what is merely suggested, I think… I think I loved gerudos because we were obvious outsiders. Because their rejection of Hylian culture was so sharp and extreme, their value system so different, and their writing, their religion, their relationship to power and hierarchy and worth wanted nothing to do with hylians. They didn’t need hylians, beyond them having potential resources to steal. In fact, the threat of hylians influencing their culture was such that the entry to the Fortress was forbidden to everyone (I don’t think men were ever singled out, by the way, even though they are mocked relentlessly). I think there was something inherently hopeful about this semi-matriarchy resisting the outside world, and especially its notions of what girls were meant to be –it was 1998, and every other girl character in OoT, besides Impa and Sheik that?? is another can of worms entirely, is either helpless or someone to save. For them to reject this narrow vision of femininity was, in my opinion, much more radical than what we got in BotW. Less nuanced, more problematic perhaps? But also much more powerful. Gerudo Valley is home, not to a town, but a Fortress.
Hylians were worth being resisted.
In Breath of the Wild, their refusal to let men enter their town is kind of boiled down to a fading tradition over-focused on romance, a meek little game of chase. Their entire goal seems to be finding a hylian to settle down with. Say what you will about the single man and the many girls (never explored and completely open-ended in its implications, btw), but at least it wasn’t… that. At least it opened the way for different ways for people to exist and imagine culture and civilization, outside of the heterosexual couple, the christian-infused patriarchy and its trickling down implications. What I want to say is: let my girls tell hylians they ain’t shit!! That they aren’t the end all be all of reality! This is what made gerudos so compelling in the first place! Where is that bite now? Where is that self-definition?
It’s gone, because hylians need to be Good. So we tee-hee at the creep running laps around the town, we disguise ourselves to breach their trust and infiltrate their town (though there is nuance to be had there, gender be complicated etc), we watch them pine after shitty dudes and take classes to become the perfect approachable woman and make love soups with ?? strange ingredients honestly, and we witness them get very friendly with the Royal Family they used to conspire against, dying to protect the princess against the manifestation of their ancient king reduced to a raving puddle of Bad Boar.
Hyrule, unified against him.
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TEARS OF THE KINGDOM
For posterity’s sake: this post was made before the game was released. I’ll probably update my thoughts on a separate thing later on.
I don’t think gerudos allying with the hylians and burying their own legends about Ganondorf as deeply underground as they can until it blows up in their face is a bad setup at all. It’s actually pretty juicy, and there’s a ton of fascinating stuff that could happen here –even some involving gerudos taking a firm stand against him while still reconnecting with their past and the choices they made once. This is my hope with the title of the game: Tears of the Kingdoms. Let’s examine them all, account for the damage, and decide how we move forward from there with the full knowledge of where we come from.
What I am afraid of (and I already made posts about that) is the scenario where gerudos rallying against Ganondorf, which I expect will forcefully try to take back his place as their king, is used for cheap feminist points that completely fail to examine, well. Everything mentioned above. Where reality bends itself out of the way of the Goddesses, and hylians’ responsibility in any of this mess, so that everything bad is 100% Ganon’s fault and so he must be cast aside and torn away from the Cool Gerudo Girls and this is 100% justified and deserved because we are Independent Women Who Take No Shit from No Men (unless they are the king of Hyrule or any random hylian they wish to marry apparently).
I’ll say this here because it’s been burning my mouth every time I see discourse about Ganondorf and the gerudo: gerudos declared him as their king. To make a really bad comparison that I dislike: he didn’t run around to assemble girls and make a cult around himself, he was born with the cult already formed around him (and it’s not a cult, it’s just a different mode of governance –hylians also revere the Royal Family like gods, don’t they?). This heavily changes the dynamics at play. Not to remove any agency from him to do a little invasion about it, but chances are the ancestors to BotW’s gerudos fully expected him to behave in this way, at least to a degree –in OoT you see very plainly that they value physical prowess, feats of thievery, witchcraft and general violence. It’s more complicated than him being a Bad and making the poor helpless women go along with the plan uwu –even taking the brainwashing into account, AND Koume and Kotake counting as gerudos too, even if they might not be not fully innocent in shaping the culture and the man himself. If manipulation and forced servitude is the explanation given, I’ll be genuinely mad –because, once more, all the nuance and messiness would be flattened for the sake of making Ganondorf Bad and the gerudo Good (= on hylians’ side).
It bears to be said: I think feminism stances that require, not to criticize (which is fair), but to fully dehumanize and bestialize men of color to make any sense are uhhh bad, and it's worth questionning who they end up serving in the end.
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The flip side of this would be to make Ganondorf a poor little meow meow that was secretly controlled by the evil Demise all along, and... I’ll be real. I really don’t think it solves our problem at all. It might even make it worse.
My problem with how gerudos have been handled thus far, being mostly connected to how they behave in relation to hylians Good, is that they’ve been systematically defanged not to threaten the status quo as much as they used to. I think it’s pretty clear why I’m not a fan of Ganondorf being a mere victim of cosmic circumstances; I have a post that goes more in depth about this, but to simplify: my man has legitimate grievances. To make him a mere puppet to Evil Incarnate would, to me, be just another attempt to erase the despotism of the Goddesses, the unjust hierarchy of the world, what hylians have historically done to the races they were in conflict with (looking at the Yiga for the most recent example…)
I’m not saying his fight is clean or even legitimate, that he isn't driven by his own sense of self-importance above anything else, or that he should win (he has no plan beyond domination and victory, that's not a future). But I think there’s something really important about having someone being willing to fully consume himself and everything around him for the simple fact that someone should resist the order of the world. Even if that makes him a heartless, cruel, and egomaniac demon-pig. Even if there’s no Hyrule left to rule. Even if his own people despise him, or are long gone and forgotten.
Is it a little heart-wrenching? Uhh yes to me yes most definitively. This is why Wind Waker Ganondorf hits so hard, and remains (I think) his favorite entry in the series so far. But… I still find this fate of eternal resistance more resonant and empowered, and far less grim, than if Hyrule’s lore absorbs his hatred and rage, gives it to another entity that would be Badder (= more opposed to hylians and the goddesses), and scrubs it off anything icky and uncomfortable, rendering it completely domesticated and non-threatening to hylian domination; rubbed of his skin color, of his complexity, of his own emotions, even made... kind of sexy now, in the same way his sisters have been made before him? I am very, very afraid of him being turned from furious and an unapologetic subject in his own legend to a "redeemed" (according to whom??) and palatable object in somebody else’s, that you now end up having to… save from himself.
Again, I want to trust that Tears of the Kingdom can walk that line and preserve everything sharp and contrasting and profound and thrilling about this fascinating setup. I don’t expect a philosophy course, this is a game for children –but it doesn’t mean Nintendo didn’t do an astounding job with similar setups in the past. Again, I’ll invoke the Wind Waker conflict, but Twilight Princess did a lot of great things as well (Zant’s speech, if you can get past the weird stretches and stumping and NNHYAAAs, is pretty fantastic) –and the subtle writing of Majora’s Mask is also proof enough this series can be complex without being impermeable.
So this is where my hope lies. Not really with BotW’s writing, which, I’m sorry to say, but I found to be below what the series has done in the past (I have no problem with the setup and how the story is explored, I think it was a great idea, but wasn’t ever sold on the actual writing the way I may have been with previous titles –it felt… very tropey to me overall, with a couple of highlights). But Nintendo has shown to know how to write compelling stories for children that know where to sprinkle its darkness and how to preserve its hope, and this is this side I’m relying on for this delicate storyline moving forward.
And now? Now… I suppose we wait and see.
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(thank you for reading my impossibly long essay what the actual hell, at least I got it all out of my system, see you in part 2 for when TotK comes out I suppose aaa)
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sindar-princeling · 2 years
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The previous post made me think some more about the real life influences on LOTR, so because I’m down with a cold and have a lot of time to spare, I finally wanted to write a coherent post about those comments GRRM made about Aragorn and his tax policy.
For those who haven’t heard the actual quote, here it is:
Tolkien can say that Aragorn became king and reigned for a hundred years, and he was wise and good. But Tolkien doesn’t ask the question: What was Aragorn’s tax policy? Did he maintain a standing army? What did he do in times of flood and famine? And what about all these orcs? By the end of the war, Sauron is gone but all of the orcs aren’t gone – they’re in the mountains. Did Aragorn pursue a policy of systematic genocide and kill them? Even the little baby orcs, in their little orc cradles? In real life, real-life kings had real-life problems to deal with. Just being a good guy was not the answer.
And my god, do I have problems with this approach to Tolkien. It’s kind of like asking why Bilbo was unconscious for a lot of the battle of five armies, when we know it was a story Tolkien was telling his kids before sleep.
When looking at LOTR, I think you can’t not read it as an ultimate escapist fantasy - and what’s most important, Tolkien’s personal escapist fantasy.
He is Frodo - a man born into a middle class family, educated, well-read, with close friends coming from the same “social sphere”, like Merry and Pippin, who died in WWI. Sam is in a very literal sense the batmen Tolkien fought with, which he said he considered “so far superior to myself”.
Tolkien had a few batmen during the war, like the article from my previous post mentions. Most probably because he fought in a few different units, but also, he may have lost some of them to war.
And in LOTR, they all get a happy ending.
Of all four of them, Frodo is the only one who can’t return home, most probably mirroring Tolkien’s trauma. He’s the only one whose ending is grounded in trauma, PTSD, loss. The rest of the hobbits get happy endings - very simple and traditional in a way that after the war was nothing but good - they marry, they have kids, the kids marry each other, everyone is happy and lives long lives.
Sam, especially, gets the happiest ending of all in this sense - he marries a woman he grew up with, he has so many beautiful kids, he is mayor for like seven times and everyone loves him, the Shire thrives.
Tolkien was too traumatised after the war not to write Frodo as a mirror of his experiences. But then he took all the people who fought alongside him, who suffered alongside him, people who he lost, and gave them the happiest fairy tale endings he could think of. And it’s not that Merry, Pippin and Sam weren’t as traumatised - this ending is not meant to belittle their experiences - Tolkien is simply giving them the ending that real life didn’t give them.
Returning to the original point, to Aragorn - it’s just another version of the same mechanism. Gondor was struggling, Gongor had Mordor as their immediate neighbours and was heavily affected by the war as well. And then there came a just, good king, and everything was fine. The end. It’s a subplot of the same fantasy as the hobbits’ endings. It doesn’t matter how hard ruling is, we trust that Aragorn is a good king, because people of Gondor deserve a good king (the people of the real world deserved a good ruler who wouldn’t drag them to war), and we know that Aragorn is an honorable, just man.
Nothing about the LOTR ending - apart from Frodo’s trauma - is meant to be realistic. Why would Tolkien want to write WWI and the aftermath - this time fictional.
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tarotphlow · 1 year
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Astro Observations 8
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🌻Saturn in the 3H natives tend to have difficulties with phones or cars, whether that be always having a broken phone, or their car literally just not wanting to work for whatever reason
🌻Looking at what sign is located on your 12H could give you insight on to what life was like while you were in the womb. Ex: my 12H is in sag, before I was born my mother would pray constantly for her to have another chance at being a mother, she ended up having a kid with a man from a completely different state. (♐️ rules travel and religion).
🌻Have a big secret you need to get off your chest? Tell a Scorpio Mercury, they will never tell a single soul. I’m friends with a lot of Scorpio Merc’s and it’s amazing how well they can hold they’re water. (Hm, on second thought this might just be for scorp placements in general 🧐)
🌻7H placements how do you do it? Being so desirable to the point that people say they want to marry you without knowing anything about you at all? I just know y’all just smile 😀politely with so many confusing thoughts in y’all’s heads 😭
🌻I’ve noticed cap Venus will always gravitate to dating someone out of their age range.
🌻unlikely duo that actually goes super well with each other is Gemini and Scorpio. I think this has to do with how intelligent both of them are, this combo reminds me of detectives in a way.
🌻with NN going into Aries soon, Libra placements are gonna see a lot of stuff they buried in the distant past come back(like past life stuff 🕰️), probably gonna be a time of relearning some of those old old lessons or just seeing how well you developed since your last life!
🌻Moon in the 3H with a harmonious aspect with Uranus= extremely talented at vidya games 🎮
🌻If you have Gemini in the 6H you should try your hand at an online job, not as a profession but just as a job.
🌻Neptune aspecting your sun could indicate having trouble figuring out what you want to do in life.
🌻Uranus aspecting midheaven seems like you could be either really popular, really really weird or something of the two, but hey at least your smart😭😭
🌻Taurus Is definitely a foodie we know that, but surprisingly Capricorn is also kinda a glutton too lol, I have know idea why but I’ve noticed a lot of caps in my life really live for a good meal lots of savory things and also really really big on desserts as well. They also have sensitive noses, I mean scent is responsible for 80% of our taste so I guess that makes sense.
🌻our brains stop developing at age 25 and become a fully fledged functioning adult with no more growth which is really interesting because the profection year for age 25 is in Taurus which is the sign of stability.
🌻I really feel for Saturn dominants, they really just get the hardest trials out of everyone and expected to just be okay with that, Yk a lot of people say Saturn is gonna reward them and blah blah, but like I feel sometimes they’re trials are kind of unnecessary? Other planet ruled people (besides Scorpios) learn those exact same lessons but less harsher and the reward they get is quite possibly equivalent to Saturns soo idk… I feel like Saturn is just a bit much. (Let’s discuss this I’m curious to know what people have to say 🤓)
End of observations! I hope you all enjoy these as much as I did!
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(Likes and reposts are appreciated! 💛)
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fishnapple · 20 days
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CRYSTAL READING: Describing your inner home 🏡 🛕🏰
If your inner heart can be shown as a house, a place, how would it look like ?
Imagine the residents (the various aspects of yourself) staying there.
✨️ Pick a stone :
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1. Aventurine
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There are no grand or unusual edges to this house.
The interior is sparse.
It lacks warmth and sunlight.
Like a house in the middle of windy weather lacking regular visits from its residents.
There is no big, loud front door to invite others in.
The residents here would be quite aggressive and masculine. There could be a boy, an older man, someone of authority, but something feels old and tired.
Your inner home stores lots of hidden angers, disappointment, and wounded emotions. And they may not even yours. Some are from others living rent-free in your inner home. They would sometimes try to send you messages to let them free but not too successful.
There is a thick veil shrouding this home, creating confusion.
Some innovation is needed. Light up the house, open the windows, and let the cold and distant thoughts have a walk outside. Maybe some will walk away for good, leaving behind space for a warmer, livelier one.
2. Rose quartz
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I see a big mansion or a castle ruled by a feminine figure. A queen, but there seems to be no king.
Only the soldiers and the court messengers are male.
The place is hectic, people are scurrying around, talking, gossiping. Lots of music and beauty.
Foreign messengers or traders would come and go.
There is a certain fairytale air about this place. The place would change seasonally, periodically under the influence of the current moon phase.
People here are well bahaved because they know that their ruler, even though benevolent and sometimes quite detached, is still strict.
I could see that a big feminine force has a lot of influence on your inner world, giving you structure. You may sometimes do things a certain way just because you want to please that force. This queen in your inner home may be the manifestation of an authority figure in your life or a representation of a power inside you.
3. Citrine
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This place is literally the centre of yourself.
Everything that ever been born, created, and manifested comes from this place.
This is the centre of wisdom, the sanctuary for tired travellers, the convergent point for spirits, the portal of giving and receiving.
It is vibrant, solid, intimate, and mysterious. Like a temple or monastery high up on a mountain.
Here, you could recharge yourself and receive messages from the universe, from the ancestors, from distant teachers.
The residents living here are the wise ones. They have come here to give you precious lessons, so listening to them would be quite beneficial.
❤️
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secretmellowblog · 11 months
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One thing I feel people almost always overlook about Javert is that:
The book’s narrator is usually harsh/sarcastic towards Javert, and that harshness is why his character has pathos. Javert is able to be sympathetic because Victor Hugo has basically no respect for his beliefs. Javert is so pitiable because Hugo mocks and drags him on basically every page he appears.
I’ve mentioned before that the message of Les Mis is (paraphrasing) that ACAB— Javert is the best police officer it is possible to be, and he is terrible, because the laws he enforces are terrible. His law & order ideology is terrible. Everything he believes is fundamentally wrong, and so deeply wrong that it deserves no respect.
Yes, Hugo acknowledges that Javert occasionally has a misguided kind of nobility— the nobility of holding yourself honestly to a set of bad rules, the nobility of following a terrible moral code even when it hurts you. But Hugo has no respect for Javert’s bigotry, or his bootlicking, or his deranged obsessive worship of law and order. Hugo portrays the way that Javert martyrs himself for his ideology as strangely honorable— but the ideology itself is mocked and condemned. Hugo thinks martyrdom is cool, but that Javert is martyring himself for a terrible cause.
In his most sympathetic moments, Javert’s worldview is portrayed as pitiable…. not a worldview that’s worthy of true total genuine respect, but a worldview that’s deeply pathetic in its wrongness.
Without himself suspecting the fact, Javert in his formidable happiness was to be pitied, as is every ignorant man who triumphs.
This is part of why those old 2012-era les mis fanfics always threw me off, if anyone remembers the fandom trends at the time. XD People used to write Valjean and pre-barricades Javert having political debates, as if the two of them could make arguments about law that were equally valid and worthy of respect, and pre-barricades Javert had a worthwhile set of beliefs that Valjean could learn from. But to me it’s personally kinda like, no XD. Nah. The whole thing about pre-barricades Javert is that he does not have any valid points to make. He has nothing resembling a point. He is “ignorant” and determined to stay that way because he literally believes that thinking is evil. He is a violent authoritarian whose worldview is just “mindless self-destructive bootlicking and bigotry.” I joked about it in a previous post but if we want a character who offers a genuinely meaningful counterpoint to Valjean’s philosophy, who could debate him on politics, and who could represent justice while Valjean represents mercy— that character is Enjolras, not Javert.
Valjean has a fascinating complicated relationship with law and politics and violence, but Javert is just a deeply pitiable brainwashed creature who martyrs himself for Wrong things.
Hugo pities Javert, but he does not treat Javert’s worldview --‘authority is always right, rigid social hierarchies must always be enforced, human life has no intrinsic value, the police must violently suppress any kind of crime or rebellion’— as something that deserves to be genuinely respected. It is not something that’s even worthy of debate. It is wrong, it is nonsense, it is an incoherent cruel self-contradicting ideology, and Javert only believes it because (to quote Hugo’s sarcastic narration) “thought was something to which he was unused.” (Or to be more charitable, Javert believes these terrible things because he was born inside a prison and has been brainwashed from birth into internalizing a cruel carceral view of the world.)
And I think Hugo generally does a good job of walking that tightrope — having pity for Javert without portraying Javert’s ideology as something worthy of genuine admiration. He sympathizes with how rigidly Javert holds himself to his own moral code, while condemning the moral code itself for being idiotic. He has empathy with Javert’s sincere self-destructive dedication to what he believes in, while pointing out the things he believes in are all stupid. He pities Javert’s martyrdom, while condemning the nonsense that Javert martyrs himself for.
One of my Top Ten Favorite Pathetic Javert Moments is this one, when Javert recognizes Marius’s body after the barricades:
A spy of the first quality, who had observed everything, listened to everything, and taken in everything, even when he thought that he was to die; who had played the spy even in his agony, and who, with his elbows leaning on the first step of the sepulchre, had taken notes.
Because Javert martyrs himself so earnestly for this terrible cause! He “takes notes” even when he believes he’s going to die and the notes cannot possibly be of any use to anyone, simply because taking notes is the thing he has been ordered to do. He’s so self-destructively dedicated to performing these useless pointless tasks because he believes there is real ~dignity~ to his mindless bootlicking— when there isn’t.
That’s why Javert’s emotional breakdown and suicide hit so hard for me, in a way that it wouldn’t if the narration was forgiving towards his stupid belief system. The contrast between Javert’s sheer pathetic terror and the often harsh/sarcastic narration is just….wild. It makes Javert sympathetic without making his awful ideology seem good, reasonable, or valuable. (And while this is only adjacent to the point I’m making- the harsh narration in Derailed also emphasizes the way Javert has been trained to view his own thoughts/emotions with contempt.) Javert is deeply pitiable/sympathetic without his ideology being framed as correct. And the whole tragedy of his character comes from the fact that he is utterly entirely wrong.
If I were to summarize the pathos of Javert, I wouldn’t say “he’s sympathetic because he’s a noble anti-hero with good strong morals who makes some valuable points about the importance of law” or w/e. I’d say that you can feel sorry for him because he’s a wretched brainwashed creature who’s never done anything right even though he wants to, and is deeply ridiculously pathetic without ever realizing it.
As Hugo puts it: “without himself suspecting the fact, Javert (…) was to be pitied.”
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mikareo · 5 months
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“ ࣭⸰ ★ GARDEN SONG . . . ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ブルーロック ; itoshi rin x fem reader (6.8k)
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⊹ ⠀⠀ rin's never been in love. he's never had the right to fall in love. so when sae is betrothed to a foreign princess, he doesn't bat an eye. you're just like every other girl who's attempted to marry his half-brother; yet, for some odd reason, he can't seem to shake you off. his heart aches thinking of you, despite how heated you make his head. he hates you. no. he loves you. no. rin doesn't know what he feels.
contains; royalty au, e2l, sfw, bastard prince!rin, princess!reader, reader is betrothed to sae, slowburn, rin calls reader names (like lowkey sexist sometimes), lots and lots of worldbuilding (bear with me please), forbidden love, swearing?, some sexual innuendos, kind of like...medieval dialogue??, tw rin literally calls reader a breeding ground like..., reader is very princess kaguya coded, some princess kaguya references near the end author's note; literally dropping this out of nowhere sorry lol :3 i think this is my best piece of writing i've like ever produced so pls give it a chance n enjoy it! i rewrote the whole thing today in present tense,, so there might be tense errors
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⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀this part of the fic is about 2 1/2 years old ⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀originally a keiji akaashi fic,, lmk any name errors ⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀extremely descriptive worldbuilding writing,, (heads up) if it's not ur thing then u likely won't enjoy reading this ⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀will have a second part titled swan song in the future!
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It’s humorous to Rin— the perception that titles and notability have complete control over one’s life, obligations, and status. The pure and blind belief that every problem or issue can be solved with a man on the throne; a man whose birthright has always stated that that is where he belongs. Where he’ll rule and live out his days, utterly unhappy and self-sacrificing all for the benefit of people, his people, that he doesn’t even know. Strangers. Where he’ll wear a weighted crown encrusted in sapphires and jade, bound to strands of hair that’ll be ripped out if he dare defy his solemn promise to protect his kingdom. The crown must always be worn with pride and honor— the two things in the unspoken king’s code that every man of status is expected to follow— two simple things that seem impossible in Rin’s eyes. 
Yes, he’s been raised according to the precept of manners and fulfillment of duties, but there’s something of the way his own father seems so distant and disconnected from the world around him— from the connections and relationships that he should be closer with— that makes the idea of being emperor completely disheartening. It’s completely and utterly horrid to Rin when he compares a life of golden chains to his dreams of travel and adventure. 
It’s for the best that he’s nothing but a bastard child, then.
Prince Rin of the Itoshi family is nothing if not a black sheep. He’s a man who gentlemen aren’t envious of and whom women never lust for. He’s simply a royal with no drive, no meaning to motives or dreams, and no purpose to carry him onwards. Fortune and prosperity have never and will never be the necessary materials for his happy ending— but freedom and individualism, two contrasting colors amidst blocks of the same shade, speak his language. For in his situation, there’s no point in slaving away his natural qualities in hopes of gaining an ounce of respect from his parents. 
The second born bastard child is but a shadow of a man when he stands behind the true heir—his half brother, Sae. The golden child, the pure-bred son of the true royal bloodline coming from their shared father’s genes. Sae, the future Emperor of Japan. 
An emperor who’s bound to be married off to an unsuspecting princess who’s just recently come of age, and live happily ever after with their countless children. It sounds positively dreadful, doesn’t it? A life that’s been bestowed upon all of the men that have come before Sae— a life void of real love and connection, one that pleasures the theory of bountiful rulings in retrospect to genuine happiness. A life that Rin has never wanted for himself, and has been lucky enough to avoid. 
But as his brother stands opposite to him, with his head held high as he’s about to meet his betrothed for the very first time, Rin feels pity.
It’s a sorrowful sight for Sae and the predicament that he’s been cornered into, but Rin knows his brother does not want his comfort. Their broken bond has been laced with new threads of sadness after years and years of competition— yet, everyone still deserves a choice in their future, in their loved ones, and that choice is being taken away from the crowned prince with every second ticking by. 
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
The time is now. 
As the courtroom doors burst open, gold and silver accents vanish from sight. Five guests gracefully enter the palace— that of two guards, a handmaiden, a king, and the most important arrival…you. You, the princess of the neighboring royal family from the South. The royal family that will be merging with Rin’s father’s in a legal binding between you and Sae— the infamous royal wedding of the century. 
“What an honor it is.” Emperor Itoshi greets your father with a firm stare.
The two men analyze one another, squaring out in a power strike before stepping forwards for a decisive handshake. As their palms clap together, Rin can see that this king is much different than his father— seemingly gentle, showcasing a non-plastic smile that’s true and bright whilst his daughter stands behind him— and Emperor Itoshi smiles back. “It’s truly spectacular to finally meet you; well, you and the princess, of course.” 
At his words, your father grins and extends his arm out to you, encouraging you to step away from your trusted handmaiden and towards your future father-in-law— the man who’s retiring his lifelong title in a mere two months for the sake of passage that’s occurred for centuries. A sacred passage between fathers and sons, full blooded fathers and sons. 
“Your majesty,” you bow your head.
As you curtsy in respect, your skirt drapes to the floor— the gown’s extravagance dusting the marble tiles, shimmering beneath the dense candlelight, and reflecting off the mirror and shined surfaces scattered across the ballroom. Despite the perception of beauty and grace that his father and brother seem to share for you, Rin peaks through the cracks of your facade. He can tell this regal persona you’re displaying is nothing but an act. Your stoic expression speaks all he needs to know, that everything about you is princess protocol and lacking personality, and proper folk have never been his usual cup of tea.
While he’s been ordered to entertain ladies of the court and women in the social ring for years-on-years, there wasn’t one occurrence where he actually obeyed his father’s demands— rather string along every maiden sent his way and bid them farewell after a night or two of endless, droning conversation; that and perhaps a few turns in and out of his bed chambers, which is a fact that is infamous among the palace staff. Rin disregards them, though. Tuning others out is his speciality. He uses it in daily conversation, diplomatic meetings, as well as other important matters such as the one happening now, right in front of him. Just a few feet away. 
This is pointless. 
Why is he being forced to be here? 
It’s not like you're his bride.
Rin doesn’t even bother to tune into the presumptuous meeting of you and Sae. They don’t involve him in any way nor does he care for either of you. Typically, most others don’t give him the time of day, so who’s to say that they deserve it from him? The only thing he owes to others is his mere existence as the kingdom’s greatest mistake— all to remind the ton that there is a good and gracious prince, and they should be grateful that he is to be their ruler and not Rin. 
Rin, whose birthright is to stand still and respond to his father’s wishes with no choice other than to agree.
So, as the decadence concludes with the bowing of heads and nods of approval dispersing amongst royals and servants, Rin thinks nothing of the way you and Sae stand beside one another in light conversation.
It’s desperate. The sight of you attempting to find a sliver of mutual interest or some sort of connection that binds the two of you other than royalty, makes him look in disdain. He’s grateful that he won’t be the one spending the rest of his already grey life with you, ruling the kingdom.
You aren’t really his type.
“Rin!” Sae’s voice rings through the courtroom, his eyebrows raise in expectancy as he ushers his half-brother towards his bride-to-be, wanting to introduce the two that’re going to be living in close proximity for the weeks to come. “Do come close, I’d like you to meet my bride. Perhaps you’ll find something in common and make a friend for once, for this girl can’t be another one of your whores.”
Typical Sae.
Whether the dig was intentional or unintentional, Rin grimaces at his brother’s words—pursing his lips into a tight smile and closing his eyes in an attempt to disguise his disdain with faint exhaustion.
“Apologies, my brother. I’m afraid I’m rather tired and would prefer to return to my quarters.” Rin nods towards the two of you in respect. “Do enjoy her company, yourself. I’m sure the two of you will be sharing personal physical matters in the near future— best to be comfortable.”
With a quick turn of his heel, he carries on, making his way towards the exit of the throne room, to his grand living quarters— quarters that are fit for a bastard prince such as himself. However, his rancid suggestions aren’t left unanswered, instead contemplated by you as he hears your light voice speak to his brother. Rin hates first impressions. Not because he gets anxious or worried about being disliked; but because he already knows whoever he’s speaking to already knows his history. They know the truth of his bloodline, and they’re never afraid to step on his already small ego. You’re no different. 
“So the rumors are true then?” 
You speak aloud in a low tone, deciding the best words to use, and phrasing your statements in the most respectful manner you can muster— not wanting to offend Sae in any way, shape, or form while you address his little brother. 
“Your brother is not the royal he’s made out to be?” As your voice trails off, regret immediately overcomes you as the subject of conversation stops dead in his tracks.
A scoff escapes his lips, head tilting to the left as your remark settles beneath his skin— hitting that special little spot that enrages every buried emotion, feeling, and reaction in his heart. 
Rin spins on his heel with a manic look on his face as he analyzes the regret hidden in your weary posture; which is in great contrast to the confidence and poise you’d displayed a mere seconds before— poise that appears to be only a facade, a mystery that he’d gladly uncover if he actually cared just an ounce about your wellbeing. Taking long strides towards you, ignoring the words of concern from his half-brother, he stops to a halt at your feet— giving you nowhere to avert your eyes, gaze being forced to rest on his anger and distaste only. The rage bubbling in the pit of his stomach is like an over-boiling copper pot, scorching water taunting the brink of the lid, causing it to fly off and wreak havoc elsewhere.
“Tell me, princess.” He ponders mockingly, finding great humor in how tense he was able to make you with three simple words. 
“What is it that you make me out to be?”
There’s a shit-eating grin at the tip of his tongue, a taunting aura to his spite. Perhaps there’s a part of him that hopes your response will be genuine, positive to the darkness that’s held to his head on a daily basis— but no matter. He already knows what your misconceptions contain. He knows that you’d already filed him away in the troublesome cabinet at the back of your brain. It’s almost like he’s looking at an average cavern girl with great beauty. You’d be nothing without the small tiara on your head, that’s clear after determining the lack of assertiveness you assume. 
…but perhaps, for once, Rin is wrong.
Not a single response emits from your mouth, the silent stare down between glaring eyes being intimidating enough; there’s absolutely no way you were going to anger the bastard prince any further. Yes, he’s considered to be nothing but a brute, but there’s something in his sparks of blue that makes you believe otherwise. 
This man is an underestimated enigma, and you sure as hell aren’t going to be one of those common fools who blindly thinks otherwise.
“Your brother tells me you are a good man.” you speak enunciating each word to ensure that it gives its intended effect, that being of a derogative nature masked with falsified kindness and fortitude. “He says that your people adore you, that you are one in the same. Grounded. Of level head.” Bullshit. 
Sae would never say those things.
The people would never say those things.
Rin scoffs, listening to the meaningless and unoriginal acclamations being brought to his attention, tired of having to hear them day after day by not only his fellow royals, but staff and peasants— and every other person who’s ever been fortunate enough to cross paths with the royal family, always being disappointed that he is the one to be met.
As he steps closer, wanting to see just an ounce of fear in your eyes, a frown is brought to his beautiful features. What?
In no way are you intimidated by his presence. There’s no shudder, no wince, no flinching whilst his steps grow closer and closer to your position. Just a blank stare of nothingness at his furrowed brows. You aren’t reacting like the other princesses that’ve come to attempt to wed Sae; all princesses who have come and gone due to Rin’s dark intimidation. You have spirit, a fire that’s not willing to be doused by his ocean of hatred.
“Are these your words?” he interrogates.
One of his hands reaches out to brush a stray strand of hair behind your right ear, noticing the tomato red of your cheeks. Smirking, he thinks to himself how dismantled you likely are beneath your stoney stance. “Or are these all of the things my brother has told you? Do you have any thoughts of your own, princess?”
“No need to answer that. I already know what you think of me.” Continuing on, deaf to the attempted precautions from Sae, he leans in— his lips just ghosting over yours, and whispers his final remarks. 
“You’re an open book, beautiful— and I can’t say that I'd ever want to read you.”
So, as Prince Itoshi Rin’s steps recede, the distance between you two grows with every second; and you feel a bright, red, rage bubbling deep within your heart. It’s a hot and heavy anger simmering within your soul for the sly man with dark hair— knowing full well that he will be one of the many, if not the biggest, challenge you’ll face in your newfound kingdom.
And never before, have you felt more ready to take on a challenge.
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Annoyance is the most prominent emotion Rin has felt in the past two weeks. 
Utter disdain at the sight of you and Sae conversing through the courtyard, picking flowers in the rose garden, and taking romantic boat rides in the nearby lake. It’s one thing to fall in love, feel your heart begin to swell at the physical presence of that one special person— but it’s another to have to witness first-hand with no relation to the budding romance at all. Having no need to be involved in the newfound relationship, yet still being forced to interact as a third party member. It’s absolute madness.
He’s somewhat happy for Sae, he truly is. There’s a sense of pride in his soul at the sight of his half-brother stepping up to the position that he’s been in preparation for for all of his life— but with that promotion comes you.
With the rise of power comes your completely lethargic presence. 
Oh how he cannot stand you.
You’re just insufferable. You’re unapologetically and unequivocally insufferable to his mind. The mere sound of your voice sends him into a downward spiral. The mere thought of your existence ruins his day with ease. The slightest mention of your life-lasting role in the kingdom he’d grown up in ignites the most powerful feeling of disgust he’s ever known. The weight of his conscience burns with every snarky remark, dig, and insult that flies from your throat; your trained grace never falling scarce in melody, although your words could be considered crude by any proper lady. Words that allow you to terrorize his brain in the midst of night, keeping him awake whilst the moon becomes one with the sun.
He fully believes that you were created to be the bane of his existence…the hell to his heaven…the demon behind all corners in the everlasting game that he has the misfortune of living. 
“You’re looking a little grey today, Rin.”
Oh no…
“Perhaps it’d be wise to freshen up a bit!”
Please, just shut up.
“I’m sure the servants won’t mind spending a few hours by your side in an attempt to make you look handsome!”
He hates that damn sound.
There it is. The dreadful sound of your sing-song voice ringing through the hallowed halls, emptying the painfulness of your personality in the wake of the morning dew— as for some god awful reason, you always insist on being the first person to the dining hall, wanting to mark each new day with a classic and large Japanese breakfast.
“As I’ve said many-a-times before, princess.” His head swivels to face you, eyes rolling at the skip in your step. “You are to refer to me as Prince Rin, it is what I prefer.”
“Is it your honored title or is it what you personally enjoy?” you challenge, looking over your shoulder with a mocking pout, having the knowledge that he has certainly come to despise you in the short time you’ve known one another. “Greatest apologies, my liege; but it wouldn’t be proper of me, a woman, to call you, a man, a name that isn’t of great decadence.”
“Surely you can see where my true intentions lie?”
A pained grin comes to shine on his features, shooing away the rain clouds and allowing sparse rays of phony sunshine to shower you. His teeth bite his bottom lip as he struggles to keep his curses imprisoned between his heart and his tongue. You had to have been born of a despicable nature. In no world that is right, in no paradise would anyone deserve the punishment of having to know you— as Rin believes all tyrants belong with the street rats. Not to insinuate you’re a tyrant, but to express that you’re equivalent to a sickly rodent. 
“I’m not a fool, you know.” he spits, striding towards your retreating figure and grabbing you by the forearm and stopping you in your tracks. Rin smirks as his touch forces you to become overwhelmed in shock. “I see you, princess. I see through your poise and ladylike mannerisms. I can see what a lonesome and sorrowful shadow you’ll inevitably become. No wonder you’re going to be nothing but an objectified woman, an accessory to Sae’s power— a dull little doll of a woman who perhaps had moxie in her past— yet still became a lifeless puppet beneath a bejeweled tiara, stuck with the hands of judgment up her arse.”
You’re a fool to go toe-to-toe with him, of all people. 
Rin doesn’t think he’s ever seen such fire behind your eyes. Fire that burns hot, raging with seething anger and humiliation. If the world were to be supernatural, there’s no doubt in his mind that you’d have set it aflame in response to his vile predictions; the castle crumbling in ash with you standing alone in its wake atop his lifeless corpse that’s burnt to a crisp.
“You are entirely incorrect, never have I shown servitude for the sake of reputation—”
“Really?” his snarling voice interrupts you, refusing to let you get a single word in amidst his long-winded attack. “Then what is it that you’re doing right now, at this very moment. No princess with a functioning brain would ever find herself working with kitchen servants to prepare breakfast for two royal families. She’d simply order them to do it on their own. Every single thing you do is in order to gain likability from those who shouldn’t ever matter. If you had a backbone of any sort, you’d understand that— and you’d understand that titles are of nothing. They’re of no relation to any true purpose or meaning.”
“Then what are you?” you retaliate, ending the lengthy trail of hurtful words and confessions spewing from his mouth. “What are you but a sorry excuse of a prince…of a son?”
“You say titles are rubbish, yet you continue to wear that horrendous crown atop your hair. You choose to take it off of your placid vanity and wear it with honor; although you aren’t much of an honorable man, are you? If you were, then perhaps you’d have a grain of respect from your people. Perhaps you would spend your days in the throne room, being in the advisory alongside your brother— your splendid and valiant brother who has done nothing but serve for the greater good— instead of dallying away with mundane and useless tasks that no one cares to notice! As why would anyone bat an eye at a mistake, when they could be focused on someone like Sae. Someone of the sun’s decadence?”
The face opposite to yours is almost unrecognizable; with his red skin, flared nostrils, and dead-set eyes, Rin looks as if he’s just murdered a man out of spite and grief. He looks as if he’s just induced a homicide and is preparing to start anew, find another victim…that victim undoubtedly being you. 
He tips his head downwards, breath grazing against your upper hairline whilst his dark crown shifts in his hair— nearly falling off the front of his forehead, the large arches seem ominous and unwelcoming along with the deadly ocean depths of his eyes. The usual gem-like blues holding a more dangerous tone than a tsunami. 
Rin knows he’s frightening…
…and he’s enjoying it.
“You speak on things you know nothing of.” Rin fakes a straight toothed smile; his outside appearance looking completely opposite to the growing pit at the bottom of his stomach. If the peasant’s freak show has come to the kingdom, he’ll be the opening act—a fraudulent performer behind a mask of stoney emotions. “I have freedom and opportunity. If I so wanted, I could order a horse to be prepared, ride through those gates, and never look back. There is nothing holding me here— not my father, my brother, or the people. When will you realize how little your beliefs matter to me.” 
He’s boiling with rage, as are you whilst his words ring truer than you’d like to admit; each one hitting the most insecure corners of your heart. “Your meaningless and unimportant opinions in relation to my kingdom— when in reality, you’re simply another black plague that’s washed upon its shores. Another person who’s crawled out of the local sewers and weaseled their way into the generous hands of the royal family. It’s just so unfortunate...”
“...that in the end, you’re nothing but a breeding ground for my brother.”
On instinct, without a coherent thought in your mind, you feel your arm swing out— open palm flying through the air, only to land against the dark prince’s swelling cheeks— leaving not only a bright, red mark, but also an expression of identical shock on both of your faces.
Taking a step back, he reaches upwards to cup the bruise only to realize that you’ve done far more damage than a measly purple wound. You’ve managed to produce a cut, one that seeps through his scarlet blossoms and runs from the corner of his eye to the bottom of his chin; displaying the path of your anger whilst your ring-studded hand has directed itself across his face. 
Raindrops of ruby pour from the injury as you stare in horror at your blood splattered engagement ring.
The shimmering diamond turns dark as the tide of rouge rolls in, encasing the notion of property beneath your outspoken and unintentional hatred for Rin; and before you’re given a chance to respond, a second to apologize, the man has already stalked off towards his living quarters— not wanting to see the look of expected satisfaction on your face at the sight of his uncontrollable winces. You don’t deserve to smug as he rests in pain— despite how you are, in truth, regretful of what you’ve done.
Though, not that he’ll ever come to that conclusion.
As why would you, someone in the same likable ranks as a weathered gargoyle have any intent of remorse. Why would you, a woman who would soon have all the power in the world to hold over his head, care about a lasting scratch; no matter how deep. 
You’re a tyrant, and oh-how he loathes a tyrant.
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A garden of statues would perhaps have more purpose than Rin in his current predicament— standing between his father and half-brother, listening in on the up-and-coming preparations for the royal wedding; whilst even the breaths he takes are ignored, lost in a sea of ignorance and invisibility. Emperor Itoshi gleams with pride, his mindset focused on the change of power— the crown on his head that will soon be worn by his eldest son, the one of pure royal blood. Yet, with the happiness in his heart, his smile only reaches so far; never shedding light on the tundra that consumes his bastard child. 
“Rin!” The man hollers beside him as he grasps Sae’s shoulder in a love-bound strength; his god-given touch of a father being miles-on-miles away from the fragile prince who needs it most. “Look at the life your brother’s going to make for himself! Witnessing him amidst the coronation will be splendid—”
“Remind me again, father.” Rin interrupts, not wanting to hear a minute more of the relentless doting. It’s night and day, a never ending string of praise and compliments, all for the great, Sae. “Where is it that I am to be for the duration of these wondrous festivities? I don’t believe I’ve heard spoken word of that as of yet.”
A wave of ignorance acts upon itself through his father’s careless hand, dismissing the trivial concerns of his youngest son; his heart only having enough room for one soul other than himself. “I suppose you’ll stand with the castle staff, it’s likely we have a limited space at the head of the church due to the size of our friends' traveling blood.”
The castle staff?
He’s to stand with lowly servants?
Rin doesn’t know why he feels so shocked, after all, he should’ve been expecting to be cast aside with those of low status. While his title associates himself with the royal lineage, he’ll never truly be accepted into the upper class— that divide has always been inflicted upon him by his own father. 
“So, I am not to be in our primary aisle? I am not to have a sliver of sight at Sae’s crowning?”
There’s a hint of spite in his tone, a spite that was usually hidden from the eardrums of others, revealing itself to the people who’d known it was lurking for decades. While Sae simply disconnects himself from the conversation, a privilege that he’s lucky to have, refusing to meet his younger brother’s eyes— their father pushes further. He’s well aware of the growing insecurities his bastard child has, but he also knows how to obliterate the subject in its entirety.
“You aren’t pure.” His voice is stoney and directed at Rin whilst gesturing to Sae, as he shakes his head at his least favorite son. “I can’t possibly have you, a boy I conceived with a gutter whore, stand at the equal sides of neighboring royalty. It would be seen as disgraceful.”
This isn’t the first time Rin’s heard these words.
“You are a disgrace.”
His father tells him these things often.
“All you are is a physical representation of my shame, boy. You’ve already embraced the darkness—it’s about time you allow the shadows to consume you whole.”
That doesn’t lessen the pain, though.
With that, Kyohei turns away and grasps Sae’s arm, leading him towards their higher chambers; ones that Rin has never been honored to walk upon. There are no glances, no solemn, not a single look back by his father to perhaps ensure that his son is somewhat okay or devastatingly upset— though, neither one is true. The only emotion racing through the thick blood in his veins is emptiness. Just the familiar feeling of being worth absolutely nothing in the eyes of the man who should see him as the world. From the beloved emperor that cares for nameless peasants and civil servants, his father is seen as just and valiant— his true nature of disdain and cruelty only being known by his immediate family.
So as he walks alone, with no council weighing down on his heart, no angel on his shoulder, and no devil in the ranks— Rin is blind to the world around him. He chooses to maintain blindness in relation to any matter that seems regal and of importance. Since, after all, who is he to state a claim on that significance…
…when he, himself, has no significance at all?
His feet move on autopilot, like a white pawn at the match’s first mark. As if there’s a knife at his throat, forcing him to play down the chessboard— across the bi-colored tiles and towards the blackened queen. Him being a simple sacrifice; one of many to ensure a victory, no matter the underlying consequences. No matter the fact of how he’ll never hear the final calling, the call of wind inducing the fallen king and victorious player— as he’ll be far too acquainted with death to rise back from the shattered stone. A small sense of relief overcomes him as he steps into the courtyard. His soul is satisfied and alleviated at the location his muscle memory has taken him. While the twilight moon is nearing, his mind is awake; fully conscious and stormy of his own self-doubt and insecurities. Two things that can typically only be dissolved by his favorite location on the castle grounds.
The secluded lake amidst the willow trees. It shimmers and glistens beneath the draping branches, and acts as a hub of life and growth. His secret spot is possibly the most beautiful feature in the kingdom, at least Rin feels so; with its evening flowers and low-light critters, the soft grass and blossoming lily pads, and the perfect view of Andromeda— it’s his safe haven.
A safe haven that he prefers to keep to himself. 
A place that no other person has stepped foot in for as long as he’d known of its existence.
A place that has just now been infiltrated by the disguised cockroach that is you.
“You torment me day and night within the walls of my own home; yet you still find it necessary to follow me as if you’re a lost duckling during ungodly hours.” he deadpans, shaking his head at the sight of your furrowed brows and taking a seat at the bay. Rin sighs deeply as his calloused skin comes in contact with the grassy fibers. “A proper princess would be in her chambers by the time midnight struck. It’s nearly 12:30, princess.”
Why are you looking at him like that?
The strange look on your face is laced with some sort of emotion that he’s never seen before. It's buried beneath the layers of organic makeup and skin. He can only assume it’s something similar to discomfort, and despite your intentional mask being well kept— he can see through anyone. He has the rare ability to understand the thickest of thieves, as he, himself, is the biggest phony of them all. 
The sparse shadows soften your usually antagonized features in his mind, a more human appearance alleviating in its wake; and Rin swears he sees a tear drip from your right eye, swimming down your cheeks, and dropping off at your chin into the dewey land— becoming one with nature’s true beauty. The earth embraces your unexplained sadness with open arms, blowing the willow branches around your body. In a strange way, Rin thinks this is the first time he’s truly seen you as what you are. A princess. You’re beautiful beneath the moonlight, but perhaps it isn’t your physical beauty that’s catching his eye…but your emotional vulnerability.
“Dearest apologies, my liege.” you mutter, voice droning on with not a sliver of spite in your tone; only exhaustion. “I’m afraid that I’m not much of a proper princess, tonight. If you’d prefer it, I’d be more than welcome to leave you be— perhaps I’d regain some of my lost dignity in doing so.”
He studies you for a moment, his eyes grazing your posture, the physical habits you display on the daily are missing beneath the moon’s kisses. All that’s left in its disappearance is a small-spoken and sadness-consumed girl. A girl that’s tired and painstakingly sick of the expectations and predecessors that she’s been forced to live up to by birth…and as much as he hates to admit it, even just to himself, he’s found a similar identity in you. A familiarity he’s never quite noticed before.
“Stay.” His voice is so faint that even he is surprised at his statement. 
“Perhaps we’ll both freeze to death.” he continues on, feigning the annoyance he typically spits in your direction. “I’d quite enjoy seeing your ghastly face covered in ice.”
While Rin believes his offering to be nothing out of the ordinary, your expression tells otherwise. It’s clear that you’re able to read through the misconceptions he’s trying to give you; looking straight into his eyes with an amused gleam and giggling softly in response. He’s never made a princess laugh before— usually the only girls he spends one-on-one time with are the tavern girls who wish to sleep with a prince— and he’d be a liar to say he didn’t like the sound. You have a beautiful laugh and Rin hangs onto every second it continues to carry through the wind. Perhaps he’s been misjudging you just as you misjudged him. Perhaps you’re not like the others.
“I’m sure you would, Rin.” you smile, sitting down next to him on the plush comfort of uncut grass. “But I have had such an awful day, that I don’t think there’s anything you can say to me that will make it worse.” An awful day?
“May I ask what happened?” Why does he suddenly care?
“Yes, you may.” Why do you want to tell him?
A sigh breathes out of your lips, whistling in the wind and getting lost in the space of stars. “I’m a lousy princess.”
He chuckles, shaking his head and nudging your shoulder. There’s no way that you, little miss prim and proper, are a bad princess. You’re practically the model that every father bases his daughter on when raising her in a royal setting; he knows because he’s met his fair share of truly lousy princesses. “No you’re not.”
“Yes I am.” you’re not looking at him anymore, rather at the constellation ceiling above you. The stars reflect themselves in your eyes, and if you weren’t a princess on earth, Rin would think you were a gift from the moon himself. “I could barely keep up with Prince Sae today. We had dance rehearsals for the wedding, and our instructor is so strict that I can barely breathe around her without being reprimanded. I couldn’t even memorize the basic steps, I don’t know what is wrong with me. I have practically been training for this duty for my entire life and I can’t remember a few dances? I’m not fit to be a queen. I just turned eighteen, I’ve barely lived at all. How can I protect an entire kingdom, when I cannot even fend for myself?”
“Prince Sae is perfect. He’s amazing. I can’t possibly be enough to be his wife. I can’t live up to those standards. It’s impossible.”
Suddenly, all of the broken pieces seem to come together. They’re swept by a broom, one that the moon king holds above the two of you, as your shattered stars of insecurities collide into one pile of stardust. Rin sees himself in you. He sees himself from a perspective that he’s never known before. Never in his life has he met someone who understands and agrees that royal duties are impossible; usually common folk and other royals tell him what an honor it is to be of a royal bloodline. They don’t care or consider his feelings on having to be held to a higher standard, while also being at a disadvantage as a bastard child. You are different. He knows you won’t judge him for these fears he has; a small part of him trusts you now. 
“My brother is a golden boy.” Rin smiles at you, and it’s the first genuine smile he’s ever given someone. “Please do not take it too personally if you cannot live up to his excellence.”
You gaze at him in appreciation, scooting slightly closer while keeping a healthy balance that wouldn’t ensue romantic implications. “Thank you. I can’t even begin to imagine how difficult it must be for you, though. How do you handle all of this? I can barely keep my head above water.”
Wow…you’re the first person who’s ever asked how he feels. 
“It’s difficult,” he explains, “but manageable. I’ve only ever known this life, so I’m quite used to being at the end of the line so-to-speak. My brother— I’m not sure why I even call him that, he’s not my brother, I’m sorry. My half-brother is the kingdom’s blessing. He’s my father’s blessing. He’s perfect like you said; but his destiny isn’t his own. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”
Your head shakes in confusion, not quite understanding where his story is going.
“I’m sorry, I’ve never spoken of these feelings before; at least not out loud to someone other than my own mirror.” His human instinct shuffles himself closer to you, wanting that physical comfort whilst knowing that he can never have it. “I’m not unhappy that I am not the one to be emperor. I would rather be a bastard, because at least I have freedom to run away one day without worrying about feeding the masses and avoiding war. I can leave this kingdom and not have to think about my father or Sae ever again. That’s the one luxury I have always had— and it’s the one thing that I look forward to. I’m so sorry that you don’t have that same privilege.”
Nothing comes as a response and Rin feels a little concerned, that is until your soft voice reaches his ears. 
“I’m sorry for being so difficult towards you.”
You’re apologizing?
“I don’t regret anything, though.”
That makes more sense.
Another laugh bubbles up from the pits of his soul, setting off the volcano of amusement that’s been dormant for so long. “You’re a tyrant princess, my kingdom should be more weary of you.”
You giggle beside him, “Tyrant princess sounds more fun than disciplined empress.”
Maybe he’s gone mad or maybe the chilling breeze has gotten to his brain and made him delusional, but Rin feels his heart pounding— and not in the familiar way of anger and aggression. This rapid heartbeat is something warmer…fonder…gentler. If he’s not mistaken, he believes it to be the warmth that comes with falling in love; something that he’s only read about and wished for when he does eventually run away from home. However, he never believed he’d find that feeling within the palace walls— especially with you, whom he despised prior to this night. He promised himself he’d never fall for another royal, but his destiny is shaping itself in ways that are unpredictable.
He should thank the man in the moon.
Rin stands, dusting off his pants, before offering you a hand. It’s an earnest gesture, one that you cannot ignore, and he’s vulnerable with his sincerity. “I can’t promise that I hold any skills near to my brother, but I swear on my soul that I won’t push you into that lake if you give me one dance.”
“Just one?” your tone is teasing, yet you accept his offer. The feeling of your hand in his sparks flickers of jealousy in Rin’s mind. Why is Sae the one who gets to hold you? It isn’t fair. “If you push me in that filthy water, I’ll give you a matching scar…”
“...right there.”
One of your fingers softly grazes his cheek, the spot underneath his right eye and flicks upwards, brushing against his thick eyelashes, before you lace your hands around his neck. You sway together, with the moonlight showering its stars down upon you, blessing you with well-wishes from the galaxy— and drift away from the worries of royalty and betrothals. Rin is miles from the anger that nestled itself inside of his heart, freezing it and shrinking it until he no longer knew what the emotion felt like. You’ve melted that ice. You’ve found a crack and broken the cycle of rage he’s so accustomed to…and he’s grateful. 
For this is the first time he’s ever felt loved…
…if only you were his…
…but you aren’t.
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⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀thank you for reading! reblogs are greatly appreciated! ⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀will have a second part titled swan song in the future!
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