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makeste · 4 years

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the mortifying ordeal of being known... and rejected

or, how to create a self-fulfilling prophecy and get yourself stuck in a hole you’re too scared to try and pull yourself out of (by Bakugou Katsuki).

here is an observation: Bakugou often processes/hides/disguises fear...

uncertainty...

and even grief/guilt...

as anger.

the why, obviously, is because like most humans, he’s afraid of opening up and being vulnerable. but this post isn’t really about discussing the why. rather, it’s about the natural conclusion we can draw from this: that if the majority of Bakugou’s anger is in fact just his way of covering for his “weaker”, more vulnerable feelings, his doubts and fears, then that says a ton about Bakugou’s relationship with the one person he has always displayed the most hostility and aggression towards throughout his life.

so let’s talk about Bakugou’s actual feelings towards Deku.

disclaimer: I am not a therapist, or someone with any kind of psychology expertise; I am just a person that likes to read manga and think too much about fictional characters. so please keep in mind that even though I might not preface every single sentence here with “I think...” or “in my opinion...” obviously these are still just my guesses and interpretations and they may very well be wrong! the only one who knows for sure is the guy over in Japan drawing doodles of sentient flowers in his spare time, and I can’t very well ask him, so for now this will have to do.

so Katsuki and Izuku were childhood friends. let’s take this all the way back to the start. here we have two very young children who are introduced to each other at an age when they’re still young enough to have absolutely no secrets. they’re young enough to have not yet learned to be shy or self-conscious, or to downplay their enthusiasm so as not to let others know they care. kids that young don’t hide anything. they don’t lie or deceive. they don’t have agendas, and they assume that others don’t either. it is, in short, a very pure type of relationship in the sense that it’s honest and uncomplicated, that it is exactly what it appears to be at face value. their personalities are fully out there with no attempt at reining anything in. Katsuki witnesses the full force of Izuku’s boundless hero-worshipping energy and enthusiasm. Izuku witnesses the full extent of Katsuki’s relentless confidence and Peter Pan cockiness. both boys see each other for who they are in their entirety, and accept each other.

this is a fundamental bond. there is trust built between the two of them at a critical, formative age. it’s a relationship formed so early on that it’s likely that neither of them can actually recall a time before they met the other. they are and have always been a constant in each other’s lives. they’re a lot like siblings in terms of that kind of closeness and complete understanding of the other, both the good and the bad. in fact I’d say that Izuku’s use of “Kacchan” (and Katsuki’s automatic acceptance of it) isn’t that different from a younger brother’s use of “Niisan” for his older brother. it’s very revealing of the type of relationship they have. and that includes the typical sibling squabbles as well. it’s very much a relationship that’s taken for granted; there’s no filter, no effort to hold back, no attempt at trying to tone down their behavior around one another. there is whining and bragging and squabbling and name-calling and tears, just as much as there is cooperation and respect and trust. because at the end of the day, the assumption is that the relationship will endure no matter what, so they can go at each other as hard as they can and it doesn’t matter. the other one’s presence is just a given. that’s the kind of relationship that this term “childhood friends” really encapsulates, I think.

what I am trying to say here is that although it’s often viewed by fandom as an imbalanced relationship at best, and a toxic/broken one at worst, I think this is an incredibly important bond to the two of them. this is a relationship that has deep, irreplaceable value. the value lies in being known without having to suffer through the whole mortifying ordeal part. in the absolute, taken-for-granted surety that the other will always be there; in the constant, reassuring, and familiar presence; and in the security of knowing where they stand.

and what that in turn all means is that when four-year-old Bakugou Katsuki is struck by the thought that this relationship is being threatened, that the status quo may not always be quo, that the bond he’s come to rely on may have been built on a crumbling foundation, the emotional response which we are actually seeing here is not anger.

it’s fear.

this is the person who knows him better than anyone else does, and who, knowing all that, has always seemingly found something to admire in him. this is the person who’s always followed him no matter what. this is someone who looked up to him and believed in him, and whose belief and admiration perhaps more than anyone else’s filled him with pride and confidence. so the sudden fear, however ridiculous or unfounded (because at the end of the day he was just a preschooler, and that’s important to remember -- the fact that this fear, misplaced as it is, was based off of a scared four-year-old’s logic, and was incredibly real and overwhelming to said four-year-old), that Katsuki might lose this relationship -- or worse, the fear that the relationship was never real to begin with and was based on a lie and was unreciprocated and he was being strung along and laughed at behind his back the whole time -- is absolutely crushing to him.

because what he realizes in this moment is that in some ways, Izuku is already better than him at being a hero. and this realization, along with the fact that Izuku tries to help him and Katsuki misinterprets that as a gesture of pity or scorn, leads to a sudden cascade of other disastrous fears, including (1) the fear that Izuku is a sudden obstacle to his dream of becoming the number one hero, (2) fear that Izuku is looking down on him and not taking him seriously, and (3) fear that he won’t be able to catch up, because he doesn’t understand this mysterious quality that Izuku has, because that something isn’t physical strength, and that’s the only thing he’s ever considered up until now. and the one thing he does understand is that whatever it is (hint hint, it’s actually heart, and the determination to save and protect others), it’s something he himself lacks.

these are the fears which rise to the surface in this instant, and the fears which Katsuki is on some level at least aware of, and subsequently these are the fears which actually get confessed during Deku VS Kacchan Part 2 and are finally addressed. so all this is stuff we more or less already knew.

but here’s another thought: I believe that this whole time, there was actually a fourth underlying fear which has actually been at the core of all those other fears from the beginning, and which has stayed with him this entire time, and which is such a profoundly upsetting thought to him that he refuses to consciously acknowledge it at all, and yet at the same time also reconstructs his entire personality around it. and that fear is simply this: that Izuku is going to leave him behind.

that’s it. he fears being left behind and discarded by the one person who has always been there. and yeah, okay, I do realize that this is a particular take that will probably have some people going, “uh, what” and gesturing towards THE ENTIRETY OF BAKUGOU’S BEHAVIOR TOWARD DEKU THROUGHOUT THE WHOLE SERIES and raising their eyebrows. and look, yeah, I get it. the fuck kind of fanficcy, melodramatic “deep down the two of them were closer than anything” take is this. “you’re telling me Katsuki’s absolutely reprehensible behavior toward Izuku for a full ten years of their lives had less to do with him being full of himself and hating on Izuku for being quirkless, and more to do with him being sad and fearful and upset over the thought of losing his closest friend?”

but... yeah. that’s exactly what I’m telling you. because for starters, his reaction is about 50 times too over-the-top for it to be anything else. but because also, his reaction to this one fear is so starkly different from the way we’ve seen him react to all of those other fears. usually, when Katsuki is faced with a challenge, he has a very specific response:

so why, then, would his reaction toward Izuku throwing down the gauntlet be any different? hell, we’ve seen how he reacts toward people that are stronger than him (Todoroki), and towards people he thinks aren’t taking him seriously (again, Todoroki), and it’s completely different from how he treated Izuku. his entire personality shifted from being cocky and confident and nearly always having a grin plastered on his face, to him being hostile and defensive and antisocial and almost never, ever smiling. in fact he doesn’t ever really seem be happy at all.

so yeah. this is my take. he fears being left behind. it’s not just that he fears losing to Izuku; it’s that he fears losing Izuku. because of course he does, because given the significance of that bond as explained above, that’s the natural thing to fear. the two of them have always been together. he’s never not had Izuku there. and so he might bitch about it and act like he doesn’t care about it, but in truth it’s because he fears the loss of it so much that he lashes out defensively -- no you can’t push me away, if you even try I’m going to push you away first so you can’t hurt me.

because that’s what it is, isn’t it? bullying Izuku every time he gets too close. telling him over and over again to stop following him, and to not try and get into UA. Izuku, from his perspective, is looking down on him, so at the end of the day it’s just easier for him to convince himself that he doesn’t even like Izuku, that he’s just someone who’s in his way, and that Izuku isn’t the one leaving him behind, fuck that, he’s the one who’s going to leave Izuku behind. that it’s his choice. it just hurts less. fear as anger, because anger is just easier to deal with; anger gets you fired up and helps motivate you; and anger doesn’t leave you feeling as hollow inside. or at least it can help distract you from that feeling.

so. this is all pretty goddamn miserable, all things considered. and so it goes for the next decade of their lives. except Izuku never does go away. and then one day he goes and saves his life, and from there on out we basically know the rest.

fast forward to the present! or I guess technically three months ago, since as of chapter 257 the present is now Late March/DAWN OF THE FINAL DAY (24 HOURS REMAIN), apparently, and what I actually want to talk about now is the internship, and its impact on their relationship as seen since then.

I’ve already talked about the internship’s general impact on Katsuki in a previous essay, so I won’t really get into it at length again here, but basically the short version is that I think (or am at least hoping) that over the course of this whole thing, Katsuki finally started to broaden his perspective to be a little less self-focused. and as a result of that, I think that seeing Endeavor’s broken relationship with his family, and in particular watching Endeavor apologize to Natsuo and tell him “you don’t need to forgive me” (and Natsu being all WELL YEAH, I WASN’T GONNA) was kind of a much-needed kick in the pants for him as far as making him realize that his relationship with Deku, newly renovated and given a fresh coat of paint after the whole Ground Beta fight, and finally starting to look a bit like its old self again after all this time... maybe isn’t actually quite as sound as he thought it was.

and isn’t that a fun thought. because here they were finally starting to fix that shit after all this fucking time. after a decade of constantly worrying about Izuku surpassing him and passing him on by, he finally realized that this fear was unfounded the whole time... only to subsequently realize that there’s another reason now why that relationship might still be in jeopardy. that being the small fact that, oh right, Katsuki has been a straight up dick to him for the past ten years. oh shit.

this is something he never once thought about before. because previously he was too blinded by his own fears, and his conviction that he was the one being looked down on, and that Izuku was the one who instigated everything. and then once he finally realized he’d gotten it wrong, I think there was a delay before it finally hit him just how much hurt and harm he actually caused, simply because he’s not used to examining things from anyone else’s perspective other than his own. and then there’s also the fact that this entire time, Izuku has never once really shown any kind of lingering bitterness or hostility toward him in spite of everything. in fact he’s been seemingly overjoyed to finally have that friendship rekindled again, and he’s been more admiring toward Katsuki than ever.

in short, I’m pretty sure that up until very recently, Katsuki has just sort of been taking Izuku’s forgiveness for granted. just assuming that he already had been forgiven, even though yeah, okay, he was pretty bad. he just had no reason to think otherwise, because Izuku’s personality is so kind and accepting and understanding that he never even showed a hint of harboring any kind of bad feelings toward him over it. not to mention that all of the really bad stuff happened so long ago -- going on two years now! -- and Izuku has never once said anything about it! and so Katsuki, being the dumbass he is (and also subconsciously wanting to avoid the guilt, no doubt, because hoo boy, that is not a pleasant emotion at all), just sort of assumed that it was all right. that they were past it.

but... is that actually true? are they, really? or is he just telling himself that because it’s what he wants to think? after all, he did recently learn that he interpreted every single one of Izuku’s actions pretty much 100% wrong for about a dozen years. so fair to say he might not be so good at reading him. and, well... what he did to him was really bad. he was really fucking awful. regardless of how generous and kindhearted Izuku might be, Katsuki really has no right to just expect forgiveness, actually. he has no idea what kind of feelings are actually lurking there beneath that freckly surface. just look at all the resentment Endeavor’s kids have bottled up toward him for what he did. and maybe Izuku is only trying so hard to get along with him now because of what All Might said, about how the two of them are supposed to try and learn from each other. and isn’t it possible, and maybe even likely, that deep down he actually hates him as much as Natsuo hates Endeavor?

so there’s the bitter irony: Katsuki spent a dozen years believing that Izuku spited him, and trying his best to push him away so as not to feel the hurt of being spited, only to finally realize that the enmity between them was all in his head, and that in truth, he was the one driving the wedge in between them and chipping away at the cracks the entire time. that in reality he was the one doing the damage. that the thing he was so afraid of was never actually a real possibility until he brought it into existence, but that it does exist, now -- the possibility that their bond really might have been destroyed. and that it’s entirely his fault. that he created his own demons and dragged them into the light.

so now he’s afraid all over again, except that this time, he has absolutely no idea what to do. if he tries to push Izuku away again, he’ll only bring about the worst-case possible outcome that much faster. not to mention that he already played that song for more than a decade, and if there’s one thing it taught him, it’s that he hates that tune almost as much as the alternative.

so then what he should do, clearly, is apologize. that’s the right thing, obviously. the heroic thing. and I don’t think he’s incapable of moving past his pride in order to do it. and on top of that, I think he probably wants to apologize because he actually is sorry! but I do think there is something else that’s currently holding him back. and that something, once again, is fear.

Katsuki is normally one to face his fears head on. in fact, I’ve previously gone on record as saying that he would apologize without hesitation once he realized how badly he fucked up, because he’s not one to shy away from accepting responsibility no matter what the consequences. but now, though, I think that I was wrong. it’s not that he doesn’t want to take responsibility, or that he doesn’t think an apology is owed. rather, I think I underestimated just how great this one, last, biggest fear of his is. the fear of that possible rejection. the idea that Izuku might not accept. that he might say no. that it might simply be too little, too late.

it’s the one thing Katsuki has never been able to face. the fear that started this all to begin with. it’s the one fear that has shaped him since his childhood, and the one fear that he stands frozen and powerless against. the fear of having the one person who’s always admired him no matter what revealing that in truth, he doesn’t. the fear of having all his deepest doubts and fears confirmed. if he isn’t seen as redeemable or worthy to Izuku, who knows him best, who’s seen him at both his highest and lowest and understands him to a degree which one else does, not All Might (whose approval, by the way, also runs through Deku and which he also stands to lose) or his parents or teachers or his other friends... if he’s seen as beyond forgiveness by him, then that’s a blow he can’t recover from.

so now he’s stuck here in this precarious position with Izuku where he doesn’t want to take a step backwards again, but is too afraid to try and move forward. which brings us to the current chapter, where for the time being it seems like he’s decided to simply embrace the status quo, which in his mind is “rivals.”

so he’s leaning hard into that now, and simply pretending like things between him and Izuku have already been fixed, without actually taking the steps necessary to really move past it, because in the end it’s just easier. and I think that he will continue as is until that status quo either becomes too difficult or painful to maintain (i.e. the guilt becomes too much to bear), or until something happens to finally trigger a boost of courage in him, or a realization that he needs to stop being selfish and own up to his actions.

but eventually that will happen. and I think he knows that deep down. if nothing else, this is something that’s currently standing in the way of him becoming the number one. he has no right to ever call himself a hero if he can’t even muster up the courage to apologize, and to accept whatever consequences may come with that, just as Endeavor did, even if it potentially means being shut down and cast aside. he has no right to expect or demand anything else.

but at the end of the day, Katsuki is still only human, and still a young one at that. and he has only just gotten his friend back. and I can tell you right now that Izuku is not the only one who feels relief and even gratitude at being able to have a “normal-ish” conversation with the other after all this time, regardless of whether or not Katsuki might deny it. and really, there’s no rush. he’ll have to face it soon enough, and he knows.

but for now, this is nice.

#bnha 257 #bnha meta #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #bakudeku #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #makeste reads bnha #bakugou meta

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drwcn · 4 years

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Asking on anon because I feel like maybe this is a stupid question - I'm sorry to ask! In CQL why does everyone turn against NHS? I assumed originally it is LWJ and WWX being protective of LXC because he's clearly all kinds of f-ed up by NHS tricking him into murdering his sworn brother JGY. But they imply NHS is the devil which seems harsh? JGY did all those things, NHS didn't make him and if I understand timeline wasn't even plotting at the time of most of them. Is NHS a villain? I'm confused!

Hi Anon!

To answer that question I think it fundamentally boils down to 阴谋诡计 vs 正大光明.

I don’t think everyone is turning “against” NHS - that would be misreading their last interaction. Their last interaction in front of the wall of discipline is a “masks off” moment, where all characters are more or less showing their hand and being on the same page with each other. NHS is no longer pretending to be the “i don’t know” sniffling, weak idiot, and Wei Wuxian makes it known that he knows NHS was the one behind the string of events starting from Wei Wuxian’s own resurrection.

Even though NHS had good motivations for doing what he did, and even though he never tried to actively hurt anyone, he achieved his goal (avenging his brother) through 阴谋诡计. What this means is that his methods were all shadowy, underhanded, based on subterfuge and misdirection. It is not as canon would call it the “bright, sunny path” or 正大光明.

To avenge his brother he had lied to the people who would be his friends, Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng, even Lan Xichen. He used the people around him like chess pieces, leading them down the route he laid for them until Jin Guangyao’s evil has been revealed. I think it is strongly implied that Mo Xuanyu’s self-sacrifice was in part because of Nie Huaisang’s influence/persuasion. He released Nie Mingjue’s saber spirit, causing the death of the Mo family. Yes the Mo family were a group of hateful characters, and none of us are all that sorry for them, but death is still death, murder is still murder.

Yet while he wasplotting, he outwardly portrayed himself as this innocent, I know nothing, I’m harmless individual.

In a way, Nie Huaisang walked his own single plank road. The difference between Wei Wuxian and Nie Huaisang is that while circumstances both forced them to do things they other wouldn’t do, Wei Wuxian never hid his true self from anyone. Never tried to be “kinder” than he really was. Nie Huaisang however wore a mask until the end.

It is a cultural trope I think for drama characters to be wary of - if not actively dislike - the scheming individuals, even if their scheming is well intended. Because a scheme always has collaterals and the person who schemes often never has to bear consequences of their actions. Culturally, it is seen as not the righteous path.

But as CQL demonstrated, those who take the righteous path are often idiots who end up dead so... I personally see nothing wrong with scheming to avenge one’s murdered brother.

If NHS didn’t play the careful game that he did, he was never going to beat Jin Guangyao. Jin Guangyao is too smart and careful. If you wanna beat him, you’re gonna have to get on his level, and that’s what Nie Huaisang did.

But do I understand why Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji are wary of NIe Huaisang? Uhm yeah, because here is a man with great intellect and depth and fortitude that he was able to fool the greatest villains and heroes of their generation. There is a certain cold ruthlessness to Nie Huasiang as well; he did not hesitate to use Lan Xichen to kill Jin Guangyao (his sworn brother and lover, I think they’re lovers, sue me).

But LWJ and WWX understood why NHS did what he did, that’s why they didn’t confront him outright. There’s an unspoken understanding between them that they know each other’s true nature now, and for all the lies that led them to this point, it’s no wonder they can’t go back to the youths that they once were.

#cql meta #nie huaisang #cql #the untamed #wei wuxian #lan wangji #Anonymous #corie replies

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bbq-hawks-wings · 4 years

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Really long ask - Part 1: Hi, sorry for this long rant, but I just wanted to vent since I saw this latest story posted on AO3 and I am restraining myself on commenting on their story so I'm just letting my anger out here about it and other issues regarding fan-depiction of Hawks. It's vaguely related to your post on how DabiHawks or Dabi+Hawks stories make it all about Dabi and always made Hawks out to be the one who starts the problems in their relationship or is the one trying to get Dabi's

Content warning: passing mention of r*pe in a fanfiction.

LOOOONG post under the cut.

(Cont.)

Dabi's attentions when it's canon that it's the complete opposite. This latest story that came up in my feed was about Hawks "harassing" Dabi (who apparently has a backstory of r*pe) and Twice helps Dabi works out his feelings. Among the hoards of tags condemning Hawks, they decided to use "Hawks is very uncool in this fic heads up" so that's another one to add to my filters. I think I also have to block the "Dabi Needs a Hug" tags too bc he's always woobified like heck.

I really want to read stories where Hawks interacts with Twice since they have a bond/drama with each other, but people have been adding Dabi and either making it seem like Hawks has been gaslighting Dabi in their "relationship" or with Twice. I can acknowledge stories where Hawks feels guilty for what he had to do or Twice being anger/betrayed over Hawks' actions since that is actually what happened; but I will not stand for Dabi claiming Hawks took advantage of Twice or Twice and Dabi having feelings for each other with Hawks in the way bc Dabi is a) the one who let Hawks in b) knew Twice is gullible and c) used Twice as bait. Even in the stories that are cute/causal+funny, Hawks is always the one who gets threatened with fire, harsh insults, or guilted into compliance but the seriousness of the first 2 are always brushed off and the third kinda makes me want it that Hawks doesn't have friends bc most people write him as a bad friend who only cares about his own problems (especially the ones that write Hawks like a celebrity/night club person).

On writing Dabi, his issues always take priority over everything else, his family loves him, and the lov is always chill with him. He's usually written as the fun asshole/caretaker (bc of his big brother status or ablity to cook). Those factors aren't bad by itself, but it's extremely irritating when the writers/artists can give that level of care to Dabi, but just reduce Hawks to a meme who is a workaholic for the government/scared of punishment & not bc he really cares about the people he saves/helps. It's not like I hate the DabiHawks pairing, but the majority of the content (esp the recent ones), are frustrating to read & Hawks' character is usually written in bad out of character extremes. I am really mystified that I'm praying for canon content rather than fanmade most of the time.

Phew! After the back and forth it looks like we got to the end of that! (Or did we?! *Dun dun DUUUUN*) If not, though, feel free to keep the asks rolling. Lol Foxy and I are usually pretty happy to receive as many asks as people want to send even if it takes us a while, individually, to get to it. Now to finally address what you sent.

I find myself in a weird place when it comes to OOC fanfic because on the one hand people can write whatever they want, and I don’t really have a place to criticize them; but also when they blatantly and willingly misinterpret a character so they have grounds to bash on them it also leaves me acutely uncomfortable. I don’t think I’d call it “problematic” as much as a squick? Like, if they’re willing to blow past all the obvious proof to the contrary about their claims of a fictional character just because they hate them, then are they willing to do the same thing to a real person? Usually, those kinds of thoughts are pointlessly extreme, but we know those who unironically and/or unapologeticly call fans of the heroes “bootlickers” so... It’s like, ooc vent fics are also fine; and if you want to rewrite a character to fit the narrative scheme you’ve set up that’s cool as long as its tagged (“ooc [character]” or something) and/or just mention in the a/n that they knowingly and willingly mischaracterized them for the sake of the fic. Just. Don’t. Claim. It’s. Canon.

And speaking of canon, as much as I’m sure Horikoshi knew Hawks and Dabi were going to end up shipped I think it’s obvious that he never was going to canonically write them ending up together, yet here comes the “canon must validate my headcanon” crowd calling him a bad writer because the author had some bigger narrative goal in mind than having two pretty anime boys kissing.

And the worst part to me is, I feel there’s a distinct slice of the DabiHawks crowd missing out on some of the possibilities of this ship by intentionally mischaracterizing them. Like, the aesthetic equal/opposite draw of the ship is phenomenal as it is and I don’t even ship them, but I can see a wide range of possible fics based solely on the principle that they are canonically incompatible!

At the end of the day, Dabi is a dime-a-dozen edgelord - that pain in the butt OC that so many newbie D&D players make that they think is so deep and dark and mature, but is about as cookie-cutter as they come. It’s not that this kind of character is unsalvageable or a hopeless Gary Stu character, just that they don’t often come across as compelling in and of themselves or that they need more than just selfish hatred to carry them through a series. Two kinds of edgelords that can be done well are the “Out of the Ashes” edgelord and “I’ll Pull You Into Hell With Me” edgelord. The first kind recognizes there’s more to life than their sad backstory and getting even and thus choose to aspire to more noble causes - think Joel from The Last of Us. The second recognizes they’re actively doing wrong and come to embrace it - being more concerned with getting what they want than taking the moral high ground - think Frank Castle, aka the Punisher - and even these darker, “unsaveable” kinds of edgelord antiheroes can have redeeming qualities such as meeting and helping a young hopeful and telling them, “I know I’m on the road to hell, so if you want to save yourself you’d better not follow me.”

Dabi actually has what he needs to become the second type right now (assuming he’s Touya) and could even evolve into the first not unlike Kratos from God of War, but that potential can’t be fully recognized until you admit that he’s fundamentally self-centered and a bad person as-is. He may have the tragic backstory complete with justifiable hate at his genuinely abusive father, but rather than using that as fuel to see that never happen to anyone else like it did him - he just wants to get even. He burns people alive, knowing well he’s participating in the same destruction that his father committed to make him what he is now. He doesn’t recognize any of the merits of hero society and is only concerned with burning it to ash. He could use what happened to his family to incite compassion in his heart and take others under his wing, but instead he uses people as a mean to his own ends. He isn’t even proper grimdark - he’s just your run of the mill egotistical megalomaniac with a punk aesthetic.

And that’s still a good character in the grand scheme of things, maybe just not alone! Moreso, it’s a good villain and EVEN BETTER when you put him next to Hawks who is at his core:

Fundamentally Hopepunk!

Hopepunk is about being good and kind as an act of rebellion against a cruel and unfair world no matter how bleak it gets or how badly you’re beaten down. Despite his own cruel past, Hawks still has a heart to help others for no other reason than to help them, he constantly changes the odds to save as many people as he can when he’d be given a pass for letting the cards fall where they will, and not only is his aim to “help others” but to make sure that there’ll never be need for heroes again. He’s an active rebel against the system fighting with kindness and goodness, fervently looking and listening for the next opportunity to do good.

In agreement with you, Hawks and Twice are interesting to explore because while Twice is an optimist looking to make the world a better place, he’s still a step or two removed from Hawks’ worldview because Twice refuses to let go of the “family” he found for himself while Hawks is willing to sacrifice himself for others. That dynamic is so interesting, and it’s what made them so initially compatible and subsequently heartbreaking in canon.

And it’s such a disappointment to see this unwaveringly earnest character reduced to “shitty fratboy” so often. For a lot of people newer to his character I can understand the confusion, but there really isn’t an excuse if you’ve been reading the series, and the possibilities for fics with this canon personality are just so much more interesting to explore, especially with Dabi as his sort-of opposite.

For DabiHawks to work well, you have to recognize that something has to give in either of them. Some of the juiciest, most angsty content is when you have two characters grow close together over commonalities only to be reminded that despite everything else they share, that One Thing will always keep them from truly being able to see eye-to-eye. Either Dabi has to grow past his hatred and relearn compassion and empathy, or Hawks has to lose grip of that hopeful vision he has and fall into despair. Both options are good to explore, but both require the acknowledgement that Dabi’s view of the world is fundamentally bleak and selfish, especially compared to Hawks’. For a supposed revolutionary out to change the world for the better whose a diamond in the rough with a heart of gold, that’s not exactly on-brand; and at the end of the day the issue is that some are unwilling to admit that what they wanted Dabi to be is likely not going to happen and they love that fake version Dabi more than they love what Hawks actually stands for which is why Hawks always gets the shaft in the end.

I still personally hold a bit of a grudge against the DaiHawks ship as a whole purely because, as you said, Dabi always seems to take priority over Hawks instead of letting the two build a dynamic together. Hawks is always the one who has to give, and the torture porn some have made him go through to “make the ship work” is downright disturbing to me. Even at its height DabiHawks content completely flooded the Hawks character tags on Tumblr with some of the same problems that have persisted to this day such as emphasizing their aesthetic as opposed to their dynamic and rampant mischaracterization.

Anyway, that’s my long-winded response. What do you think, @autumn-foxfire?

#long post anon #autumn-foxfire #let's talk hawks

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margridarnauds · 4 years

Note

Rip idk if I accidentally sent my last ask too early or it it got deleted before I sent it but anywho,, if you’re still bored and wanting to talk about Celtic lore, I’d love to here about grainne ni mhaille or Brigid of tuatha de danann? Alternately, what’s one of your fav stories?

I was in the middle of typing up a response and apparently SOMETHING happened to it because it totally disappeared on me.

ANYWAY,

I can talk about both of them, to different degrees.

Gráinne was one of my first Irish research interests (Thank you The Pirate Queen, you…..interesting piece of media). That being said, I am VERY rusty when it comes to her, the main takeaway that I have being a very visceral reaction to the words “Anne Chambers” because…..suffice it to say….I have Things to say about her scholarship and the occasional sloppiness thereof, but I don’t think I brought my copy of her book on Gráinne with me, the school library is closed, and I generally don’t like to utterly eviscerate something without having it on hand. But I can say that her treatment of Donal O’Flaherty was bad, based purely off of wish fulfillment and her own attachment to Richard Burke, and that my personal reading of their marriage, which I will admit is just a READING, is that Donal and Gráinne actually had a fairly egalitarian marriage.

Think of it.

Gráinne, if we believe the legends, and the legends of her early life are very in keeping with what we know of her adult life, was truculent enough that she cut her hair short just to get on a ship. She was defiant, spirited, and ruthless to the core. (The woobification and victimization of Gráinne is something that is ANOTHER post, given that I feel like it does her a MASSIVE DISSERVICE). Donal….would have HAD to have known what he was getting into. And Donal was TÁNAISTE OF THE O’FLAHERTY SEPT. And, as I’ve discussed….that was not necessarily something he got just because his daddy was chieftain. That was something that was AGREED on. He was not a weak man, he was not a coward, and his cognomen was Donal AN CHOGAIDH, Donal OF THE BATTLES. But he seems to have fought his wars on land, Gráinne on sea. Together, they would have been one badass pair. In terms of NAMING, look at the names of their children. Owen - Same name as Gráinne’s father. Murrough - A common O’Flaherty name. And Margaret - Said by some sources to be the same name as Gráinne’s mother. And what was the name of Owen’s son? Donal. Now, there could be a NUMBER of reasons for this naming pattern, it could be nothing. But, what I believe at least is that it shows a certain level of cooperation between the two of them. I am NOT claiming it was a great love story, but I am claiming that what little evidence there is (and there can only be so much), indicates a certain level of respect, especially given that Gráinne, in general, was not the sort to tolerate fools.

Chambers also claimed, incorrectly, that Donal killed his nephew, but a quick reading of the sources would have shown that it was his cousin, ALSO named Donal who did it. The patrynomics don’t lie on that one; it was Donal mac Ruari, “Donal of the Boats”, not Donal an Chogaidh who did it.

But. Gráinne. I love talking Donal, but this is about Gráinne.

Something that I feel really does get underplayed, probably in service of making her a Perfect Feminist Heroine™ (I am a feminist, don’t get me wrong! But my idea of feminism centers around the idea that women can be as fundamentally flawed as men, they can have the same quirks, the same corruption, and they do not have to be perfect, long suffering, soft, or forever victimized) IS that ruthlessness and pragmatism that really underlines her character. People play up her attacking her son Murrough as some kind of righteous fury against him for talking to the English while conveniently forgetting that Gráinne herself spent most of her life alternatively appeasing and attacking the English. She was not a Nationalist, she wasn’t a patriot. She was, however, a survivor, as were MANY of the Irish nobility at this time. Another example of a survivor from this period was Iníon Dubh, probably one of my favorite women in Irish history (though she herself was Scottish by birth), who did try to bargain with the English for the life of her son Hugh Roe by giving over some Spanish survivors of the Armada to English authorities. People (CHAMBERS) try to pin Murrough with the worst faults of his father, but I honestly think that, at his heart, he was more his mother’s son than perhaps even she would be willing to admit.

(Also like. The entire thing with Risdeárd an Iarainn? I have read the marriage tracts, I have a friend who does law stuff. None of us can think of ANYTHING in the Brehon laws that would allow for a “Marriage” like the one described. Only thing I can think of that’s SIMILAR is the Teltown marriages. Acting like it’s a common Brehon law thing gives it a veneer of legitimacy that I strongly doubt. The oral tradition COULD be lying to us, I’m willing to say that there might be gaps in our understanding of a law, or Gráinne could have actually done it without….how shall we put this…..the usual degree of sanctity and security that we tend to assume, given that what the law said on marriage could be very different to marriage in reality. Tl;dr: She MIGHT have catfished him. Or. The 16th century Irish equivalent. But like. Catfished where you’re actually married and have a kid with one another. Or the story could be a complete fabrication, like I FIRMLY believe Hugh de Lacy’s story was. Who knows?)

Anyway, as payment for listening to that rant, have some of Sir Richard Bingham Whining, right from the horse’s as-mouth. I of course meant. Mouth.

I could read this all day. Cry, Bingham, cry harder.

Don’t think too hard about the fact that one day I might actually be in charge of a classroom, please.

Brigid I can hopefully talk about less, to some extent, given that we know comparatively little about her. Throughout this, I’m generally going to be calling her Bríg, since I’m talking about her in a mythological context and that is what she is called in Cath Maige Tuired (which is my all time favorite, baby text, answering the third part of your question), though she is called Brigit in Cormac’s Glossary.

So…what do we know about Bríg? Very little. But she is also an endlessly discussed figure, with the evidence being pored over again. And again. And again. A lot of the arguments have been discussed by Mark Williams in Ireland’s Immortals, the curious fact that, she is described in UNUSUALLY specific terms in Cormac’s Glossary, being described as a patroness of smiths, doctors, and poets, and there being three sisters named Brigit, one for each function.

At the same time, however, she only really appears in one saga, the aforementioned Cath Maige Tuired, where her role is purely to keen over her son, Ruadan, that she had via her relationship (past or present, it’s kind of left ambiguous) with the former king of the Tuatha dé, Bres. It is a genuinely poignant, heartwrenching scene, a kind of rare moment of pure humanity in a text often saturated with descriptions of blood and gore and sex of literal superhuman proportions. And in all of this, a woman grieves for her son, inventing keening and giving us a reminder of the HUMAN element of war, the mothers, the wives, the women who are left to grieve in the middle of the fighting. Which, in a text that tends to be fairly misogynistic and skeptical of women’s voices, is actually intriguing. (Bríg is also associated with a lot of DARK SHIT in this section as well, such as night whistling, which is absolutely fascinating to me given that we tend to think of her as this kind of healing, sunshine and rainbows figure and this shows a distinctively different look at her.) There is also a Dinshenchas story, Loch N-Oirbsen that mentions her inventing keening for the loss of Mac Gréine, which COULD (underline COULD) indicate that the story might have pre-dated CMT, replacing the figure of her brother with her son. Or possibly vice versa; CMT influenced quite a bit of the mythological literature.

I believe that it was Elizabeth Gray in her “Cath Maige Tuired: Myth and Structure” who pointed out that Bríg’s situation in-text is reminiscent of what many women would have dealt with during the period, their hearts torn between their fathers and, perhaps, more to the point, their fathers’ peoples, and the husbands and sons they had with the Norsemen. (Though I have…..certain doubts as to whether we should take it for granted that Bríg was WITH Bres at the time of Ruadan’s death, and all things considered, I do also question whether the entire episode was an afterthought, given that Ruadan doesn’t appear in ANY of the other lists of Bres’ children, nor is the story of his death represented in the Dindshenchas, indicating a certain lack of popularity. Nor do I believe it turns up in the early modern redaction of CMT).

This episode is one that I don’t really talk about all that much, mainly because people tend to treat it as a way of slamming Bres, or using Bríg’s grief as a battering ram against Bres, and that is something that, as the unofficial president of the Bres Fan Club….obviously rankles me. Just a bit, and is honestly one of the key reasons why I generally don’t discuss Bríg. Suffice it to say, like with Gráinne and Donal, I don’t really believe that that relationship was quite as unbalanced as people might interpret it, not the least because, in Cath Maige Tuired, a key trait of Bres’ is his dependence on the women of his life, especially his mother. Which….could create an AWKWARD situation, yes, but definitely doesn’t lend itself to the image of Bres being a tyrant at home as well as politically.

If they did split apart, it would be more because of Bres’ actions as king, such as his attempt at executing her father or the general treatment of poets under his reign, which, as a patroness of the poets (IF we assume that there is continuity between her appearance in Cormac and CMT, which is not inherently a given; assuming continuity in Irish Mythology is always a tricky subject because individual scribes often went their own way with this sort of thing) she would presumably be opposed to. But, of course. This isn’t really expanded on, Bríg is MASSIVELY underused in this text, and all that I really have are speculation (on an academic level) and headcanons (on a non-academic level.)

In terms of the connection with the Catholic saint of the same name………..many people have come up with ideas, I don’t believe it’s something that will ever get resolved. I do think that many things we TEND to label as definitively part of the goddess’ traits tend to be overstated, however, with some of them being found in other Saint’s Lives, or having a similar event in the Bible, which, to an ecclesiastical audience, would be familiar. I feel like it can be very easy to get overzealous in that, because of course it’s a very, very natural thing to want something solid for someone who we KNOW was very important, yet have very little real info on. In some redactions of Lebor Gabála Érenn, Bríg is described as the mother of the Trí Dé Dána, “The Three Gods of Skill,” Tuirill, Brian, and Cet, with Bres as the father. These three are notoriously elusive and difficult to pin down, not the least because they tend to be merged with Brian, Iuachar, and Iucharba, the Sons of Tuireann, but John Carey, in his article “Myth and Mythography in Cath Maige Turied” has suggested that, given Bríg’s identification as a patron of poets, her mothering of these three “Gods of Skill,” and the close connection she has to Bres and, through him, to figures like Ogma that the whole lot of them + The Dagda, Elatha, etc. are part of a “Pantheon of Skill,” which is essentially a cluster of gods renowned by the literary elite. So, there is that. She was definitely an important figure, given……Brigantia.

While I do not like drawing straight lines between Gaulish figures - Welsh figures - Irish figures, I will say that it seems like, at the very least, they share a common linguistic root. It does seem, judging from Caesar’s description of the Gaulish “Minerva” as being a patron of crafts, and given Bríg’s penchant for multiple crafts, that that is the figure being described, or at least someone who followed similar lines (This was argued by Proinsias Mac Cana in Celtic Mythology, pg. 34), since doubtless things would be different across geographical boundaries. (Welsh and Irish Mythology, despite having certain similarities, are distinct, I can’t imagine how much different Gaulish Mythology would be, if any of it had survived.) Something I do find interesting is that, while Mac Cana notes the Gaulish Minerva as a figure beloved by the lower class in particular, the Bríg we see in the Irish tradition is very associated with the upper class, the men of skill. But, then again, all of these written works would have been commissioned and written by and for that same elite, so it might not be that surprising at all. The oral tradition might have been very different, and perhaps the saint reflects that more. Or perhaps not.

In terms of the connection with the Catholic saint of the same name………..many people have come up with ideas, I don’t believe it’s something that will ever get resolved. If you can get your hands on Mark Williams’ Ireland’s Immortals, I think you’ll find that most of what I say re: this topic (and….a lot of topics in general) will be echoed in there. I do think that many things we TEND to label as definitively part of the goddess’ traits tend to be overstated, however, with some of them being found in other Saint’s Lives, or having a similar event in the Bible, which, to an ecclesiastical audience, would be familiar. I feel like it can be very easy to get overzealous in that, because of course it’s a very, very natural thing to want something solid for someone who we KNOW was very important, yet have very little real info on.

In terms of what I believe her function was….as hesitant as I am to apply a function to ANY member of the Tuatha dé, given how tenuous the evidence is and how it can kind of miss the forest for the trees in terms of literary analysis, I believe the bulk of the evidence, such as it is, rests on her association with the crafts, specifically as found in Cormac’s Glossary, with all the limitations thereof. I won’t say “No, you can’t worship her like that” to a modern pagan, I wouldn’t WANT to, because my relationship with these figures is not the same as a religious relationship. That is NOT my place. And that, if we are to take them as religious instead of literary figures, they might very well appear to different people in different ways. That being said, on an academic level, I do believe, at present, with the understanding that my views can definitely change and I am not infallible, that there is little to no evidence to suggest that she was a fire goddess, a goddess of spring, a fertility goddess, or a sovereignty goddess. The association with keening, outcry, etc., seems to also be more solid, so there COULD have been some association in there. Generally speaking, my main focus isn’t so much what a figure WAS so much as what was done with them afterwards.

…For what was meant to be a quick note, that was very long. And tragically, I had no memes pre-prepared for this one, so I went back a month on a friend in the department’s Facebook and found this.

I am willing to talk CMT if anyone WANTS to hear me talk about it, since it is my all time favorite myth, as well as….ANYTHING else, both the stuff I’ve discussed in this and anything else relating to the field, but I think that for this particular post, I’ll cut you free, with the hope if not the confidence that at least 1/3 of what I’ve written is vaguely coherent.

#irish mythology #celtic mythology #gráinne ní mháille #grace o'malley #long post #localbeeking

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takemedancingmaine · 4 years

Text

Only the Brave

“I need a drink.”

“You and me both,” Harry laughed as he poured himself a giant glass of red wine before he grabbed a beer for Liam from the fridge that looked like some sort of extravagant futuristic fridge that you'd see in a movie set in 2130 or something.

Liam’s need for a drink was a result of the Bears news that was coming from the television attached to the wall in his new condo. It turned out that a very important running back would be absent for the playoff game this weekend. Things were not shaping up well for them.

Harry’s need for a drink was simply because he had been eying the giant bottle of red wine Liam had in a wine rack that he had more than likely bought for Harry and Ana.

Things for Liam were going really well. He had finally gotten the condo he had been looking at for months and this was our first time seeing it. Well, one of us was missing, but that dark cloud didn't take away from the appeal of the living quarters at all.

Liam, true to himself, had chosen a sleek and sophisticated open floor plan to be his home. Everything was dark wood and stainless steel. The furniture was the same that he had at his old place, which included a ridiculously large sectional that he'd gotten for next to nothing on an online marketplace when he first moved to Chicago and two big leather chairs that his older brother had gotten rid of when he got married a year ago.

Cleo had taken up residence on one side of the sectional while Liam and Louis chose the other side. Ana and Harry–now with a glass of wine in his hand–we're sharing one of the chairs and I was in my spot on the floor. I somehow felt more comfortable down here, felt safer, and it wasn't uncommon for me to sit on the floor, so no one questioned it.

Liam was making some fancy chili and cornbread for us and the smell of it was swirling around the room making all of our stomachs rumble. The normalcy of it all was strangely calming to me.

Ever the minimalist, Liam had a single house plant–a giant fern–over in the corner by his balcony door, and there were only four pieces of art to personalize his home. They were large canvases of each major stadium in Chicago–Soldier Field, Wrigley Field, the old Chicago Fire field out in Bridgeview, and the United Center. Obviously, he would never have the White Sox stadium displayed; he'd rather be stuck all over with needles, but that was the sole exception.

It was somehow cozy, despite just how minimal it was. Whether it was a result of the chest of blankets he had beside his sofa or the way his apartment somehow smelled like a citrus candle mixed with fresh linen. His lighting wasn't harsh and the view of the city was to die for. We were currently in the midst of our first big snowstorm of the year. Outside looked like a whiteout, but the occasional individual flake could be noted floating past Liam’s window frames.

Once the sportscasters stopped talking about the Bears and moved onto NCAA basketball–no one would be talking about Michigan, we were playing like garbage this season–Liam muted the TV and turned to me where I sat on the floor adjacent to him, my chin resting on the coffee table as I took in my friends before me.

“Why couldn't Niall make it?”

I gave Liam a curious glance before my eyes shot to Cleo directly across from me and then Louis who was beside Liam on the couch. They both gave me small shakes of the head to indicate that they hadn't said a word about what happened, what I had told them yesterday.

My love for my friends and their loyalty swelled in my chest.

I had noted how tired Louis appeared when I'd walked into work this morning as if he hadn't slept all night. But it was more than that, he looked like he wasn't really there, as if he was stuck in his head. I could only assume he'd spent some time with Niall yesterday. I wondered how him splitting himself was working thus far and I felt a stab in my side that his current state was my fault.

“Because I broke up with him,” I started, “and because he already knows what I'm about to tell you anyway.” I kept my gaze on Cleo, knowing that she already knew that first part and wouldn't react as harshly as everyone else (sans Louis) around the room. My voice was stronger than I'd thought it would be.

I had made the decision to tell them after waking up on Cleo’s couch this morning. The two of us had fallen asleep and on my rush home to make sure Moggy still had food and water and to change for work, I realized I could lose my friends if I didn't tell them. Louis would never forgive me for not telling him and for breaking up with Niall, and I couldn't tell only Louis. So that settled it, they'd all find out. And once my decision was made, I asked if we could get together tonight.

“What?”

“Why?”

“Are you okay?”

“Knows what?”

I bit my bottom lip and nodded, keeping my gaze on Cleo. She held my eyes firmly and I felt her strength coursing through me. I don't know how she knew I needed her strength in this way, but I knew I would be grateful to her for it.

“Before I say anything else I need you all to promise me that you'll let me get this out, that you won't interrupt, that you'll just listen.”

“Of course,” Louis said. I glanced at him before looking at everyone else. They all nodded, Cleo was giving me a small nod when I brought my gaze back to her.

I took a deep breath, and then I told them. I told them what had happened to me last September. About how I had been injured and hid it from them. About how I was searching for control over my life again. About how I was going to self-defense classes with Brian and how I was having nightmares and about how I was afraid they would all look at me differently. And then I told them about Niall.

I told them about how he made me feel strong and safe and how he somehow just understood what I needed. I told them about how he supported me and how he was sacrificing his own feelings in order to help me.

I also told them all of the other things, that when I wasn't stuck and scared inside my own mind, he and I were effortless and seemed to understand each other on such a fundamental level. That he always seemed to make me laugh and I could always get him to talk about literature like each writing was the eighth wonder of the world. How I lived for that glow in his eyes when he spoke about Ireland and music.

I told them why I had broken up with him and that I understood if they thought that the logic was flawed, Brian had, but what I had done made sense to me.

Everything seemed so much easier to say than I thought it would have. It wasn't easy, just easier than I'd anticipated. It was the stepping off of the cliff and actually starting the process that was difficult, terrifying. The words came spilling out of me like I was a faucet that someone had turned on as if this was what was supposed to happen.

The whole time I spoke I kept my eyes on Cleo. She was steady throughout my retelling of events, steady when I talked through what had happened between me and Niall, steady even when she heard the gasps from Ana and steady when I had finished and took a deep breath before looking down at my hands in my lap.

“What time on Thursdays?” Was the first thing anyone asked after the silence had settled around us. It was Cleo.

“Six-thirty.” I kept my gaze down.

“Right,” Louis responded.

I looked up then, glancing around at my friends. Ana and Harry were both showing their feelings pretty clear on their faces. Harry has tears in his eyes as he and Ana wrapped themselves around each other. Ana didn't look much better off. Liam looked confused but he also had something else simmering under the surface. It took me a minute to realize that it was anger that was beneath the confusion, anger, and frustration.

Louis looked devastated. If he had looked exhausted this morning, he looked worse now. He looked like he would collapse into himself with the weight of what he was carrying. And Cleo was still locked into me, a rock for me to cling to and keep myself strong.

“So what comes next?” Harry asked. “Now that you've opened up, what comes next?”

“I don't actually know,” I admit. “Brian told me yesterday that his sister might have some resources for me. But honestly,” I looked at all of my friends, “I have no idea what I'm doing. I just… I know that I don't want to do it alone anymore. I didn't really even know that part until just now, either.”

“Of course you won't be alone anymore, Ruby,” Ana said before standing up and coming over to me, sitting beside me, and wrapping her arms around me in a tight embrace. I held her for a moment.

“I'm sorry I kept it from you all for so long. I understand if you're angry,” I said as Ana pulled back from me, but remained beside me.

“Angry?” Louis asked. “Why would we be angry with you?”

I shrugged, unsure of how to word just what I was feeling.

“I'm angry it happened, Ruby, but not angry at you,” Liam said. He looked at me with a vast array of emotions passing through his eyes and across his face that I couldn't quite pinpoint how he was feeling anymore. “You know I've only ever had my older brother growing up and that you're like a sister to me. I'm angry I couldn't protect you. That you're scared and I feel like somehow it's my fault for not being there.”

That's what was on his face. I figured it out.

Guilt.

“No no no, Liam,” I began. “None of what happened is anyone's fault. Not anyone. It was just something that happened. Something that is unlikely to happen again.”

“I feel like such a bad friend for not noticing something was wrong,” Louis whispered to himself. He sounded wrecked; like he was a scratched disk trying its best to play the song despite the hindrances.

“None of us did.” Ana’s voice came from beside me and was just as soft as Louis’. I turned to see her welling up again.

“Because I didn't want you to,” I said. “Because I did everything I could to cover it up. Not because you're bad friends,” I insisted. “I can't express to you how much you've helped me through everything even without knowing anything was wrong. I may be at a tipping point right now where my only option is to tell you or lose you,” my eyes shifted to Louis, “but you've helped me grow to the point that I can tell you. I love you all so much. I cannot possibly tell you how much.”

Louis looked up at me with his blue eyes soft and caring and just shrugged. “You're the strongest person I've ever met, Ruby.”

“You make me strong,” I replied back with a small shrug of my own. It was quiet for a long time, a very long time before I chose to speak up again and break it. “Liam, I'm dying to try this chili of yours and it's all I can smell. Can we please eat now?”

And like that, the spell had broken. We all picked our faces up and began to make normal. To be fair we weren't normalizing my assault, we were normalizing ourselves to the new situation. I could see on my friend’s faces the distinction. I could also feel that something was missing and that I wasn’t the only one who noticed. I wedged myself beside Cleo and Louis and wrapped an arm around Louis.

“I never want to make you feel like you have to choose one of us,” I whispered to him.

He put one of his own arms around me and I leaned into him. “I don’t feel like I do,” he said back. “I just wish there was a way I could be there for both of you. Ruby, I’m so impressed with your character. After what happened? I mean, I knew you were strong. I didn’t realize you were this strong.”

“I don’t feel strong.”

“You will,” Cleo responded. Louis nodded.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. Telling my story, talking about my break up with Niall, none of that made me well up. My friends saying this though, having faith in me and being there for me like this–I looked at Liam and Harry and Ana–that made me want to sob because of them.

I didn't though. I held back as Liam turned the TV volume back up, but changed the channel to some car show where the presenters were driving across Africa. It was one of Louis’ favorite shows.

“One of my students asked me today if I had a crush on Ms Thompson,” Harry said now as he nudged his fiancé who was scooping chili into bowls for us all.

“That's precious,” Liam joked, coming back over to us all in the kitchen. Louis and I released each other and took our bowls that Ana was handing us.

“What did you say?” Ana asked.

Louis looked to Liam, who grabbed the shredded cheese from the fridge and handed it over to us. When Liam cooked, it was best to take your cues on how to eat from him. He would never say anything, but if you added hot sauce to the point of only tasting hot sauce or put salt on his homemade pasta sauce, or even glanced at the ketchup in the fridge when he'd made literally anything, he'd get a little offended. It was adorable.

“I said that we’re engaged. That we are getting married.” Harry shrugged.

“You didn't say that.” Ana gave him a look. How she knew he was lying, I don't know. I wondered if it was a teacher's intuition or the fact that she was going to marry him that led her to this conclusion.

“You're right. I said I do have a crush, and that you're very pretty.” Harry leaned over and kissed her head. Ana scrunched up her face but smiled at him.

The floor was cold on my feet as I padded into the kitchen, Moggy hot on my heels, and turned the kettle on. I could feel the chill through my wool socks, which served as a reminder of the blanket of white that was the outside world right now. Last night’s storm had kept on through the night and still went strong until around noon.

It looked so peaceful when I peered out my window just a few minutes ago.

Moggy bumped against my legs, zig-zagging back and forth between them while I brewed my tea and made myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I was wearing a big, knitted cardigan, fully prepared to be as lazy as possible after the past few days. Louis had walked into work this morning, but called and told me I could work from home because it was still coming down when we’d opened.

I had been feeling well enough to go into work, but I gratefully took the day of laying on my couch in comfy clothes and watching animated movies while I organized spreadsheets and analyzed market trends.

My phone ringing scared me just moments before the kettle clicked off. I reached over my counter and saw that it was Mehar calling; I answered and immediately set the phone to speaker mode so that I could start steeping my tea.

“Hey!” My sister’s chirpy voice floated around my kitchen. “I just thought I’d call and catch you up,” she said.

“Catch me up on what?” I asked, inhaling the scent of chamomile as it swirled around me.

“My life in general,” she said. I could practically see her smiling face as she lounged on her couch, assuming that was what she was doing right now.

“Well I’m ready,” I said. “Catch me up.”

“Oh boy,” Mehar sighed. “Here we go.”

My sister then delved into a tale of her classes, her friendships, and her possibly having a boyfriend. As was typical for my sister, she embellished each story. She was telling me about how she was thinking of not actually getting her real estate license and instead just going straight into grad school for psychology. She wasn’t sure whether she wanted to go into research or if she wanted to become a psychologist, but she was leaning toward research and continuing on with her schooling.

“Wait,” I interrupted her when she was telling me this. I took a sip of my tea and headed back into my living room. I sat back on my couch and pulled a blanket over me. Moggy followed me and hopped up to sit beside me. She gave me a meow before she shifted and sat at the other end of the couch. I put my phone down on the arm of the sofa and closed my eyes as I waited for my sister to respond.

“What?”

“Have you told mom and dad this?”

“Not yet,” she said. “I’m kind of horrified to tell them. I know they’ll be so mad. Especially because I don’t think I want to stay in St. Louis anymore.”

“Where would you go?” I was more interested in hearing about what she wanted than what our parents would think. It was something I realized as I asked her this. I wanted her to be happy even if that meant that our parents were upset. It wasn’t selfish; I wasn’t thinking that if she made our parents upset they might like me more. I was simply thinking of my sister’s well-being.

“I could always come up by you,” she suggested. “Or Andy is from Denver. He won’t stop telling me about how great Colorado is. I could look into schools there, too.”

“That would be so amazing,” I told her. “I’m excited for you. I think you’d do really well here. You always love visiting me. But I think Colorado would be nice too. Ana’s family is from out west. They’re from Utah near one of the national parks, I can’t remember which, but I feel like the outdoorsy vibe is similar. You’d have to become an outdoorsy person.”

I listened to my sister’s laughter. It seemed light. I’m sure she was nervous to tell me this news. Bigger than her possibly having a boyfriend–they weren’t labeling it, but they also weren’t open to being with other people–and bigger than her friendship woes, she must have been nervous to tell me that she was planning on changing her plans, planning on making a pretty big move, planning on making a pretty large career change.

It made me happy that she was laughing after talking to me. Happy that she wasn’t feeling heavy.

“I actually have started spending more time outdoors,” she said.

I gasped.

“Oh come on,” she bemoaned. “I spend time outside. It’s not that outlandish.”

“Mehar, your idea of spending time outside used to be a screened-in patio or a hotel balcony overlooking the beach. It’s not hiking and skiing or playing an outdoor sport.”

“I can change,” she defended herself. “Andy and I are making plans for things to do this spring. He’ll be in season, but we can still do day trips and activities. We were thinking of a kayaking one and a hiking one. There’s always more that could come up though.”

“Mehar I need you to tell me that you’re actually a clone replacement of my actual sister.”

“I’m going to come up there and cause you physical harm, Ruby.”

“Got it. You’re still you.”

“Hey,” I heard her say, but her voice was far away as if she had lowered the phone from her face. It was closeby and loud all of a sudden when she spoke again. “Andy just got here. We’re about to make dinner. I’ll talk to you soon though, okay? Maybe get some advice from you on how to disappoint mom and dad.”

I chose to ignore that last part of her comment. “I’m sorry, you’re cooking now too? Are you sure you’re not a clone or a robot or something?”

“Goodbye, Ruby. I love you.”

“I love you too, Mehar.” With that, the line clicked.

“Again.”

I tightened my core and kicked out again, kicked the pad that Brian was holding. He didn't flinch, but I knew the impact wasn't minimal.

“Good.” He nodded. “Again.”

I did. And then he told me to do it all, everything I'd just done, over again with my left leg. So we did.

“Alright, let's go over those moves I showed you last time before I have to start setting up for class,” Brian encouraged.

“Okay.” I nodded.

Brian dropped the padding and stood there, waiting for me to make a move. It always felt wrong, going after him when his guard was down, but by now I knew I didn't need to worry about Brian. He was quick and agile, and he'd been trained in a few different forms of fighting since he began this training journey. He typically trained in a self-defense fighting style called krav maga.

He typically taught me traditional boxing combinations when working on the punching bags, but when we did this when he had me go back and forth with him, we worked on the krav maga techniques of neutralizing our opponent, but we also had the added challenge of our opponent knowing the technique as well. It was a workout of skill and of outwitting your opponent in order to gain the upper hand. It was like chess but with fighting and bruises.

We moved together, the two of us going back and forth, attempting to accomplish the same goal against each other.

“You’re hesitating,” Brian said as he blocked my punch and twisted my arm, forcing me to yield. He let go and after I shook the arm out, we started again. “It’s all about timing. You need to build up a rhythm and then alter it so as not to become predictable.”

Sparring like this kept my mind active in a way that fighting against a punching bag didn’t. It was an academic and physical process that I could immerse myself in deeply in such a way as to really shut myself off from the rest of the world. Brian and I went on for a few more minutes before the doors to the studio opened and a voice called out, pulling us from our back-and-forth.

“Are we late?”

I immediately dropped my guard and was thankful Brian’s reflexes were quick enough to pull back the swing he’d just made toward my midsection as I turned and faced our interrupters. He wiped his brow and took a deep breath.

“Class doesn’t start for another fifteen minutes,” Brian called back. “You’re not late.”

“Wait, Ruby?”

I stood frozen in my spot.

It wasn’t until his arms were around me that I felt the ice in my veins melt. Then my whole body reacted and I smiled, hugging him back tightly.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I asked.

“Supporting you,” Louis said, his tone implying how obvious that should have been to me. “The others are here, too. They all had to change into their workout clothes.”

“You’re all here?” I asked.

“Of course we are.”

“I don’t-”

“Ruby!” Ana and Cleo strolled into the studio and came over to us. From the corner of my eye, I saw Brian setting up equipment for class, but I knew he was listening in as Liam and Harry bounded into the room with all of their energy. Only a couple of weeks ago I’d had Niall with me. Now, I had a whole troupe.

“This is so cool,” Ana said as she looked around.

“You must be Brian,” Liam noticed Brian and called him into the conversation. “Thank you for taking care of our Ruby.”

“Oh, not a problem,” Brian came over to us. “She’s great. I’m just glad I’ve been able to help, glad that she’s started opening up and accepting other people’s help.”

“What were the two of you just doing?” Louis asked.

“It’s a self-defense style called krav maga,” Brian started. “It combines a couple of different types of fighting styles like wrestling and boxing with martial arts. My mom met my dad when she was in the Israeli Defense Forces. She was working alongside the U.S. military on a project and was stationed in the Philippines, where he’s from. But the IDF uses krav maga to train and when I started looking into ways to train and become certified to teach, she told me to start there because it takes influences from so many different styles.”

“Can we see some more?” Harry asked.

Brian looked over at me and raised his eyebrows.

I wiped some sweat off my forehead before nodding.

“Let’s go then.”

An hour later, everyone was sweaty, panting, and smiling. This week had been cardio-focused and Brian didn’t hold back. We did circuit training and shadowboxing and so, so many burpees. We didn’t come out unscathed: Cleo and Louis let it be known repeatedly just how much they hated physical activity, but they hung in there with the best of ‘em. Ana was bright red, but not a peep came out of her in complaint as we did squat jumps and push-ups.

“You do that every Thursday?” Ana panted after it was all said and done.

“Some days are tougher than others,” I told her as we all packed up to leave. “Sometimes, Brian does this to remind us that physical fitness and confidence is a large part of what drives us and keeps us safe.”

“Brian seems really great,” Liam noted.

“He is,” I said loud enough for him to hear. He blushed and nodded at us all as we walked out of the studio.

I felt really light. My friends were always going to support me, and none of them looked at me differently.

Between my friends and what Mehar had shared yesterday, I was inspired by the people closest to me. I still ached with a longing to turn to the Irishman that had worked his way into my heart, but I knew this was what was best for him.

So despite the progress, I had made, the steps I had taken this week, I stayed away.

#SURPRISE!#donna's gonna be so shocked when she sees this #it was scheduled to post last night (but didn't somehow?)#whatever #it's fine #whoops wrong update day #fic: OTH20 #CHAPTER TWENTY! HOLY SHIRT!#fic: only ticket home #1dff #niall horan fanfic

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metalchickaf19 · 5 years

Text

The Bowers Gang: How Patrick Would Creep On/Relate to Avery (Anonymous Request)

General Warnings: Mild NSFW, Incest, Disturbing Subject Matter

Trigger Warning: Some Themes Related to Sexual Force

* In a scenario where Avery survived Patrick's attempt to suffocate him.

* All characters have been aged up for the purposes of this post: Avery (18), Patrick (23)

* Any and all credit for this idea goes to the requestor.

Avery

Didn't die when Patrick suffocated him, but sustained brain damage from the lack of oxygen

Had to be put into a medically-induced coma for almost two weeks after it happened (doctors assumed he had just had a close call with SIDS), and now has a slight mental handicap as a result

Doesn't understand most abstract concepts (i.e. social etiquette, symbolism, certain aspects of math...), has a hard time picking up on sarcasm, extremely easy to fool, etc.

Basically the type of person that most would classify as “simple” (think Lenny from “Of Mice and Men”)

In terms of appearance, Patrick's opposite in almost every way

Though they share the same black hair/pale green eyes, Avery tends to come off as a football player to most (in direct contrast to Patrick's "twig" aesthetic)

I.e. Relatively short (about 5'7), broad chest flanked by broad shoulders, strong square jaw, etc.

Essentially looks like a tank with absolutely nothing going on upstairs - tends to look "spaced out” more often than not, and never shows much emotion on his face

Despite this, typically viewed as the handsomer of the two brothers when they're standing right next to each other

Final Warning - Upsetting Material Ahead

Allows Patrick to have sex with him with virtually no struggle

Not because Avery enjoys it, but because it's been going on for so long that he sees it as "normal"

Thinks it's something all brothers do, and doesn't realize that it shouldn't be happening; this is largely because of his handicap

Happened more frequently when they were younger (the entire ordeal started when Patrick was going through puberty), but now only happens once every few weeks, if that

Patrick sometimes sneaks into Avery's bedroom at night, gets him alone when both of their parents are gone, etc.

Also uses sex to punish Avery in certain instances (though this is very rare - most of their sessions aren't anger-based)

Overall, views his relationship with Patrick as neither good nor bad

Doesn't have an extreme amount of love for Patrick, but doesn't understand enough about his behavior to hate him either

All in all, complacent with the way things are because he just isn't capable of analyzing the things that are done to him on a complex level

Definitely a sad situation, but one that has little to no chance of changing

Patrick

Was initially very upset that Avery survived suffocation (literally planned on "murder the baby: round 2" the night he came back from the hospital), but eventually realized he was fundamentally different as a result

I.e. Patrick realized he had created the ideal "toy" - a person that never tattled, rarely resisted, and, in general, had a mind like molasses moving over a tile floor

So essentially their entire relationship has consisted of Patrick doing whatever he wants to/in front of Avery at any given time

Was often trusted to babysit Avery as a kid

Didn't devote much time to outright being cruel to him, but often had Avery sit nearby while he tortured animals, had him in the room while he jerked off to horror films, “accidentally” fed him things he was allergic to, etc.

Started having sex with Avery soon after he hit puberty

... meaning Avery was the first person Patrick ever had sex with

Had always been turned on by his brother’s disability (purely because he was the direct cause of it), and found the urge impossible to resist one day out of the blue

Has since satisfied his “challenged brother” fetish, but continues to sleep with Avery because he harbors the belief that he might still try to "replace him" one day - and he thinks fucking is the best way of keeping him in his place

Doesn’t do it often, but loves choking Avery while he screws him (with a belt, with his hands, whatever)

Totally takes him back to when he had that pillow over his face as a toddler, and gives him a little jolt of feeling that drives him wild

Also just lives for the fact that no one ever found out what he did - likes to whisper things like “remember yet?” or “that’s right, buddy... you know the drill” into Avery’s ear while he strangles him, because he knows there’s no chance of him making the connection

Thoroughly enjoys the thought that, every time he asphyxiates Avery, Avery gets a little bit slower

However, typically only goes the choking route when he’s angry, because it’s the only thing that genuinely distresses Avery on an emotional level - tends to reserve it as a punishment

Overall, “loves” his brother as much as is possible for Hockstetter

“Love” in this case meaning he’s a huge source of entertainment, and that makes him valuable in Patrick’s eyes

Happy that his brother survived in the end... even if it’s for all the wrong reasons

#henry bowers #patrick hockstetter #belch huggins #victor criss #the bowers gang #the bowers gang headcanons #it

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c-is-for-circinate · 5 years

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---okay wait, no, nevermind, this is what I want to say about Vex and Percy, I found it after all. I love them because they’re a love story about choosing what you want to build after the world falls down around you, and finding somebody else who will look to the future and build next to you, even though you’re both working with shattered landscapes and cracked tools. I love them because the way both of their worlds broke is so fucking different, but they understand each other enough to recognize it, and neither one of them can keep from moving instinctively, unstoppably forward anyway.

Once upon a time, they both had lives with plans, and then those lives fell apart. And both of those lives, those sets of plans included love in their own way, but neither of them looked anything like the love Percy and Vex found with each other. They didn’t expect that at all.

I have a lot of feelings about teenaged Percival de Rolo, who is probably going to be a clockmaker. He has so many siblings in his vast noble family that he can do that, he can be semi-useless and artful. He expects to get married someday, a respectable arranged match to someone he’ll presumably like well enough, and live a quiet, clever life. I picture him as fond enough of his family, assuming that he’ll be fond enough of his hypothetical maybe-someday wife and his hypothetical maybe-someday children, happy enough in that partnership, with the time and space to be passionate about his cleverness and his books and his inventions. There’s such a specific kind of fulfilment in that life I think Percy once envisioned for himself, with people who are reliably there, loved but taken a little bit for granted, all of the focus and elation and ‘this is the point of me’ devotion towards intellectual pursuits. I think he would have been happy with that life, and that he would have been kind of a vaguely-inoffensive asshole because he never really paid enough attention to other people to bother really hurting them, or to learn that he could really hurt them and stop.

Of course we know how all of that fell apart. What I’m fascinated by is Percy himself, though, Percy who survived to join Vox Machina, because the Percy we know from canon never actually stopped falling apart. We know he hasn’t rebuilt himself a new life, he doesn’t have a future, he’s got a revenge quest and then he has a dragon distraction, sure, yes, we see that, but it’s not just the facts of what Percy does, it’s the feelings and the headspace he’s in the whole time. Taliesin’s said a few times, and I am so interested in the implications, that Percy spends 95% of the campaign mostly staying coherent through the middle of a constant, years-long nervous breakdown. He is constantly slipping back and forth along the edges of dissociating, present enough to react to things but not exactly here, not really processing the full weight of everything that happens, not quite. He can’t tell his Orthax-visions apart from nightmares cooked up by his own brain, and he talks more than once about how much the past few years with VM feel more like a dream than reality. His judgment is a mess, diving headfirst into deals with anyone who’ll have him, making whatever bad decision seems like a good idea at the time.

So Percy’s life was smashed to smithereens and the Percy we know has absolutely not recovered, has not even really begun to recover--but one of the really epic things about Percy is the way he just keeps moving forward anyway. Dazed, dissociated, acting on instinct, whatever Percy may be, it is baked into his very nature to keep on going. When Percy is surprised or threatened, he always seems to be shocked into action, not stillness. We see it when he goes full Determinator in Whitestone during the Briarwoods arc, and again chasing Ripley to Glintshore. We see it directly after the Chroma Conclave attack, looking for a plan, for a next step, when he tugs Vex to evacuate the keep; we see it in the ruins of Draconia when he’s the only one to notice Tiberius, and he is so careful about asking questions that won’t derail the thing they have in motion, so careful not to alert any of the others who might grind everything to a halt, because grief or no grief this has to keep going anyway. Even when he’s awash with useless emotions and there’s nowhere to go to, Percy broods at work, down by a forge or setting pen to paper, making and planning and doing. It’s so telling that even at his absolute worst, in that pit of nothing when Orthax first whispered in his ear, Percy’s reaction was to make something.

Which brings us to Vex, who isn’t quite a maker like Percy, but is still a builder in her own way. Vex who had her own life that fell apart, and I don’t really mean Byroden, and I certainly don’t mean Syngorn.

Vex’s life, Vex’s plans, weren’t handed to her. The life Vex expected to live was the one she was still living when we first met her: the traveling adventurer’s life she’d built with Vax. (And maybe that’s our first demonstration of exactly how much Vex is maker and a builder, that after her life fell to pieces the first time--after Byroden, after Syngorn--she’d already managed to put together a new one once.) She has her brother and she has her bear, and by the time we meet her she has Vox Machina, and it’s not much for convention but it’s a life. All of her expectations are locked into that life and that future. VM at level 9, with a keep under construction and the respect of Tal’dorei, was obviously already pretty different than the twins at level 1 living in the woods, but it’s also so easy to see how it’s just a continuation of the same thing. Vex and her twin live in each others’ pockets, and she shoots things and makes sure that there is always enough to eat and always money for a rainy day, and there’s stability in unconditional love and self-sufficiency right there. Laura’s mentioned on Talks that, if the Conclave hadn’t attacked and Vax had left the group, Vex would have tried as hard as possible to convince him to stay, and then would’ve gone with him for sure. Of course she would have. Vox Machina was the life Vex was trying to build, but Vax and Trinket were the life she already had, cornerstone and truth.

You can see how hard Vex works to create and maintain and secure that life with every coin she squirrels away so zealously against a rainy day. There is no doubt in my mind that, pre-Vox Machina, Vex and her bow and her hoarded pennies was the one who made sure there was always something to eat over the campfire every night. There is no doubt in my mind that when they found Byroden in ashes, Vex was the one who got her brother moving, who kept them moving, who kept them pointed forwards no matter what. And you can see how much Vex put into the bigger, richer, theoretically more-stable life Vox Machina was starting to build together when it all came crashing down.

Percy’s life fell apart pre-stream, and we all know exactly how. The super fascinating thing about Vex’s arc is that we get to see her life fall apart, right there in the middle of the story, maybe more than anybody else. The Chroma Conclave was hard on everyone for all sorts of reasons, but in terms of what Vex tried to build for herself and tried to keep, it’s easy to see how fast and how utterly she loses very nearly everything. Greyskull Keep is first, of course, with the heartbreak of watching Vex hesitating there at the edge of the tree with tears in her eyes, because this was their home. It’s such a big thing for her, more than for anyone else--and of course it is, because Vex more than anyone in the group saw Greyskull as her future. Keyleth always had the Ashari to go back to, and Pike had Sarenrae, Grog lives in the motion and Scanlan avoids plans, Percy could barely conceive of a future existing and Vax was lost and floundering for any next step he could find, but Vex had this castle and Vex called this castle home.

Of course it doesn’t end with the castle, though, because this love story is the story of how everything breaks, and the next thing of Vex’s to break was Vax. Before the dragons came, Vax was already falling apart and falling away from her in two different directions, half of him tugged away by depression and uncertainty, the other half pulled after Keyleth. The seeds of distance were sprouting there even before Vex died in the Queen’s champion’s tomb. And maybe that feels even more symbolic now than I ever realized it did before--Vex died and came back, but the deal her brother made, that vow he swore, wiped away any chance Vex still had for ever getting back that wandering rogue-and-ranger life that once was hers.

The Chroma Conclave arc takes nearly half of Campaign 1, and Vex spends it watching bits of her old life crumble while she’s much, much too busy to process or mourn. There are dragons in the world, and there’s no time to worry about what the world will look like once they’re dead. She doesn’t have plans. Vax has raven wings and a goddess and a girlfriend, and Emon is on fire, is turning to lava beneath Thordak’s feet, and Keyleth is a wreck and Grog dies for five minutes and god only knows what’s going on in Scanlan’s head ever--and Vex, like Percy, just keeps going. She reads the Raven Queen book cover to cover seventeen times. She takes things, and she hoards things, and she scrounges for loot, and she gets called greedy for it but the thing is that for Vex, acquiring things is very much a fundamental kind of building for the future, maybe even more than making and tinkering is for Percy. Stocking up now will save them later, it’s baked into the firmament of Vex’s soul, take whatever you can because you will NEED IT someday. She steals a broom because she wants it, yes, and then it saves all of their lives. She sets the group after Fenthras because she wants it. She bargains and she haggles, even when there’s no reason at all to believe that tomorrow will come, even when Vex has no idea what tomorrow could be, because whatever doubts she may have on the surface, her instincts can’t give up that last breath of faith: I will need this money later, because there will be a later. Just like Percy, scribbling plans in his journals late in the night for inventions he has no time or supplies to make. Neither of them have any fucking clue what the future could possibly be, but they can’t stop working towards it anyway.

This is the environment where they fall into each other, Vex and Percy, in the middle of the mess of the Chroma Conclave, in this violent limbo world where any day could be the last and next month might as well not exist. This is where they plant the seeds and start to grow the future they don’t even believe in yet.

The attraction and the flirting start before the dragons even come, of course. Percy builds things for Vex to have and keep and use or squirrel away, and it’s such a perfect expression of both of their attitudes towards the world. Vex keeps his coin with hers, and makes sure to shepherd it just as carefully, makes sure that Percy will have enough in whatever future comes. And there are hints of what they’ll be. There’s a reason that ‘Darling, take the mask off’ is SO MUCH, and it’s because ever-moving determinator Percy is stuck. He’s driving himself right into a corner, working himself off a cliff. He’s just killed someone horribly and he’s on the edge of blue-screening right now, of stopping, or maybe of smashing everything until there’s nowhere left to go. And Vex, who’s got a good life for herself right now but has already lost one and knows what it’s like, says, come on. Let’s back you away from this wall you’ve thrown yourself up against. Take the mask off. Let’s keep moving forward.

And they’re something, there, in the way Vex not only keeps going but tries to keep Percy going right through it all. So much of Vex’s constant planning and motion is wrapped around and embedded with keeping other people going too. We know she took care of Vax when it was just the two of them, because they took care of each other, and you cannot tell me Vex wasn’t the long-term planner of the pair. She gathers Trinket up out of horror and sadness and makes sure he has a future. She collects strays, angel slave-boys, the fruitless quest for the Gray Render baby. She pulls Percy out of a jail cell and keeps him in the first place. And there’s a selfless generosity to it, of course, or it’s easy to see one anyway, Vex who mothers, Vex who checks in on everybody else after her own death, but that’s not the whole story. The other half of it is Vex-who’s-never-been-alone. Vex who hoards people as tightly and as carefully as she hoards coin. She can keep going through nearly anything, so long as her people are there with her, so she is going to make sure that everyone she loves stays okay because she needs them to be.

The thing about Percy is that--because he’s a builder, a maker, a fixer, a determinator in his own right--he can return that favor. He can make sure that Vex keeps going, not by stopping and sitting in her feelings with her until she’s ready to move (which is very much the Vax and Keyleth energy), but by tugging her along in the direction she was already going. In Syngorn he gives her Whitestone, and oh, it’s a way to shut her father up, but more than anything it’s a someday. There in the city that helped destroy Vex’s first good life, while the dragon that burned the rest of it to ashes sits over the ruins of her last, Percy makes a promise that someday Vex can have a home and a future again. It’s far away and shrouded in mist. Percy can’t even really picture his own someday right now. They might both die before they get there. But there’s a someday ahead, and it’s enough to get Vex moving again, proud and hopeful and ready to go and collect that bow that’ll help get her there.

And Vex turns right back around again on Glintshore and in its aftermath, demanding that Percy have that future too, because she doesn’t want this one without him. If he’s going to promise her a someday to move towards again, then he damn well has to get there too. It’s because she wants him to be alive and happy, and it’s because Vex just wants him, needs him in her life, this human she collected and is so determined to keep.

So the promise of someday, in Whitestone is glittering on the horizon for them when they kiss in the woods after the Vorugal fight, and it’s just barely around the corner past the next couple of hells when Percy comes to her room before Thordak, but I think it also still feels like a far-away mirage, and I think that matters. They are both still lost in a world full of carnage and dragons and constant threat. Percy is stabbing Raishan in a council meeting because why the fuck not, this seems like a good idea at this time. Vex is still so unsure, trying to teach herself to forgive, trying to see a path forward to that someday-horizon, trying to deal with the fact that even if they kill all the dragons and even if they all survive she’s lost her brother to Keyleth and fate. The world is a wreck and they are a wreck in it, and the only thing they can do is not stop. The only thing they can be sure of is right here, right now.

So that’s where they fall into bed. On the eve of the Thordak fight, knowing they both could die tomorrow, knowing they most likely will. They’re about to go take on the monster that destroyed the only two homes Vex ever loved, a decade and a half apart, and there is no kind of promise that either of them will see the other side of the war, and that’s where they grab each other and hold on. They’re here in this impossible place together. They’ll take it as it comes, they’ll take whatever comes, and for this one night they have each other in it.

And then they survive.

So much of the episodes directly after the end of the Conclave--the next week or two in Vox Machina’s life, where they save Scanlan and try to bury some ashes and rip themselves apart, and then fight a kraken and die trying, and then go to Hell, and then come back--is just this string of, okay, nobody here knows how to stop. The dragons are dead, but the fugue state of violence and getting-the-next-thing-done, nose to the grindstone and figure this next step out and don’t worry about long-term plans because we might not survive to see them anyway, that’s still here. Percy’s been living there for years (and certainly didn’t have time, post-Briarwoods arc, to start thinking about pulling himself out of it). Vex’s specific life plans got trashed by the dragons more than anyone else’s. But really, the whole group is living there in one way or another. It’s just that Scanlan shattered under it and ran, and Grog’s never really suffered from it or lived differently anyway, and Pike keeps taking breaks to fix temples and tend to refugees and work towards rebuilding right through it all. Keyleth and Vax both found a sort of peace in fatalism and destiny, in knowing that they have set paths there in front of them and all they have to do is choose to follow them.

Percy and Vex, very fundamentally, don’t have those set paths. Nothing for them is a given. There’s Whitestone, yes, but there is a reason Percy isn’t Lord of Whitestone, king in his castle, leading his city through the dragons and beyond. When Percy’s life broke it shattered, and even when Whitestone was freed, he didn’t claim it as his. He only came back after the dragon attack because Emon was gone and it was the only safe place they knew. Whitestone is in Percy’s bones, part of how he defines himself and his life, but living there, running it, tying himself to the city--it isn’t a given. Percy could die fighting dragons or die to a kraken or spend eternity trapped in the Nine Hells, and Whitestone would be fine. He could leave and never come back, and Whitestone would be fine.

So coming back to Whitestone--sending Vex on the Gray Hunt--fucking in the castle treasury and setting up plans for whatever’s next--it’s a choice. Nothing about the people Percy and Vex become during peacetime is about destiny. They had lives and plans and destinies, the rich asshole clockmaker, the ranger on the road. Those are gone. Everything they keep from those old lives is a little broken, a little twisted from what they once expected it to be. Everything they do now is what they decide to build.

And this is the glory of Percy and Vex, the love that’s so big it makes my heart ache: the thing they decide to keep in this new world is each other. In the fugue of war with no future, they found each other and built things together, spent an entire evening tinkering on Vex’s stolen broom in Percy’s workshop, flirted and fucked and kept each other going even when nobody knew where. Neither of them had real, passionate romantic love written into their plans, back when they had plans. Neither of them needed it, not for the lives they wanted. But those lives are dead and gone, and they found this thing together in the weird wilderness between there and here, and they’re keeping it. They get to do that. They get to build their new lives in whatever shape they want, and that means they get to set each other as cornerstones and build everything else around them.

It’s so fundamental to this relationship and this new future that all the building blocks they’re working with, on both sides, are a little bit broken. Whitestone itself is still a struggling, recovering city sitting on a decimated continent. Percy is still so caught up in his own anger, still waiting for another shoe to drop, still not quite ready to believe any of this is real. Vex is pouring through libraries researching Orcus, researching Vecna, waiting for old debts to be called in. They are neither of them fixed. They are neither of them safe.

But we get to see, in one-year timeskip, how tentatively and tenaciously they keep working together towards something anyway. Vex builds a house and a Gray Hunt corps and a tentative detente with her father, starting to pick up those old pieces, starting to try. Percy builds civic works projects and an international early warning system, still ready for the next disaster, starting to entertain the idea that it doesn’t have to destroy everything. They get new glasses and open a bakery and invest in armor and ammo and art. They host a ball.

They get married, in secret, and tell almost nobody they know. It’s such an asshole thing to do! They are both still assholes, both still broken enough to be wary of the consequences of inviting their own loved ones to a simple wedding. They do it because the point isn’t the moment, it’s the marriage, all the future days to come in this new life they’ve agreed they are going to create together. They want it to be theirs, just theirs, this relationship they never expected to have and now intend to base the rest of their lives on. It’s kind of a messy, slightly dickish way to go about things, and that’s perfect, because Vex and Percy are kind of messy, slightly dickish people, and they own that together. They own a lot of things together now.

The epilogue of Campaign 1 walks the line between open-ended and closed story in a way I find so deeply satisfying, and so much of that is because of Percy and Vex.

So many stories end at a point where--the day is saved, or it appears to be, and the horizon is wide open for the heroes and the sunset, and everything is triumphant and victorious and anything could happen next. It’s perfectly satisfying and ripe for sequels, and nothing is quite guaranteed but everybody is happy for now and that’s a good place to tie things up anyway. It’s the ending of Return of the Jedi, or the first Pacific Rim--something has to happen next, somebody has to figure out what that is, but that’s not the heroes’ problem and that’s not the worry for today.

Sometimes, stories end with everything so tightly wrapped up that there’s no room to breathe. It’s the ending that says, what you’ve just read or watched or gone through is the entire story. It is everything that matters. It is full, and it is complete, and nothing that ever happens in the rest of these characters’ lives will ever be as important as what they’ve just done. Lord of the Rings does this a bit, and it actually works; Harry Potter does it badly, and I’d submit that The Adventure Zone: Balance does too. It’s the implication behind every Disney or fairytale happily ever after, although those at least tend to skip the epilogue describing exactly what that happily-ever-after means.

Vex and Percy do neither of these things at the end of their story, or they do both of them, and that’s so great. They do get the epilogue, with the closed ending and the happily-ever-after. The Lord and Lady de Rolo settle down, have at least five children, and live in peace for decades until Percy eventually dies of old age and Vex far-more-eventually follows. Their friends outlive them by decades or centuries. It’s tidy and nice and final...except. Whitestone could outlive even Keyleth, and Percy--and by extension now Vex, too--lives as long as Whitestone lives.

Somehow Percy and Vex manage to have an epilogue with every one of the trappings of a perfect picture-book ending, without feeling static. They’re going to have the house and the kids and the castle and the tiny little kingdom, and it’s going to be full every single day, because inherent in the very makeup of these two people is the inability to ever stop growing. With the dragons dead, with Vecna gone, they can keep doing exactly what they’ve been doing this entire time. They can move forward. They can build. And they can build something massive that outlasts both of them, lay foundations and groundwork for centuries and generations to come.

Fighting with Vox Machina will always have been the biggest, hardest, most glorious and dangerous, most epic thing that Vex and Percy have ever done, and it’s absolutely over. The book is done, tied off with a bow. But they’re not stuck and they’re not empty without it. They’re going to make clock towers and festivals and change the whole culture of Whitestone. They’re going to have half a dozen children and raise them towards their future. The Whitestone of fifty, sixty, seventy years from the end of the campaign when Percy eventually dies will be fundamentally different from the Whitestone they came home to when their adventures ended, and it will be the pair of them who made it so, together. Which means that even without him Vex will still have him, in civil infrastructure and all the things that let people keep living their lives, in this thing they created as a team, this thing she’ll continue to shepherd and grow without him for the rest of her own life.

And maybe that’s the key to Vex and Percy, to why their ending feels so satisfying, so inevitable and perfect and good. So many stories end before their characters can change and split away from each other. So many epilogues decree that their characters will never change, ever, so they can never grow apart. But Percy and Vex are built of growth and motion, and when they found a match for themselves in each other they decided to point that forward momentum in the same direction and change together for the rest of their lives. It’s what a real relationship looks like, a real happily-ever-after. They will pick each other up and help each other on along the way, because we’ve seen it happen. They’ll hold on to each other, and they’ll build.

#critical role #perc'ahlia #LOOK I JUST HAVE ALL THE VEX AND PERCY FEELINGS OKAY #THIS ISN'T EVEN ALL OF THEM #it's just a whole bunch #sometimes I just ship things #and then this happens

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marxsgrandson · 4 years

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“You’re not Russian, you’re just American with some Russian blood”- my Israeli PS professor (who is neither Russian nor American nor knows anything about me)

Long post ahead: read it if you’d like but mostly just hoping there’s someone else who can relate to the feelings I’m about to express. So here goes:

Had an unbelievably shitty day today.

I’m in this one political science class. It always ends up somehow ruining my mood. It’s the one with the shitty German men who confronted me in a group after class accusing me of being uncritical towards the Soviet Union, being an antisemite (lol these aryan guys were calling me an antisemite. Like they’re confirmed non-Jewish) and being a dumbass for not idk sucking Gorbachev’s dick personally would be the next leap there. Idk if I posted that here, but it’s necessary context.

Anyways today we were talking about Russia’s motive in x place and just jumping around to every unrelated topic about something about Russia because our class always gets sidetracked and never finishes the lesson we were supposed to do. And of course the Europeans were being pieces of shit.

And the prof said something like “I wish we had Russians in the class to offer maybe a Russian perspective too... like gosh that would be nice. Do we have any Russians?” And I sort of tentatively raised my hand half way because I’m half Russian and when she was looking around the room and didn’t see me, I said “I’m half Russian and this is actually something I heard and talked a lot about growing up, I could take a try at it”

“You’re not Russian, you’re just American with a little Russian blood” she said, dismissing me entirely as the class laughed like it was the funniest thing they’ve ever heard. I now realize what it means when people say they feel stung. I was paralyzed by those words and I don’t really know why. What makes it hurt more is that starting two seconds later she called on a series of five German douchebags to try and explain Russia’s motives and says “huh that’s an interesting idea” after each of them say something painfully obviously wrong. And I felt frozen.

If given the chance to unfreeze myself, I wish I said what I was feeling but didn’t have words for: “Hey. That’s not true. Russian was the language I said my first words in. It’s the language of my childhood and my soul. It connected me to something I felt distant from during the school day. I taught myself to read this language as soon as my mom taught me the alphabet as a little kid. I went to Russian school on the weekends when I was young. I worked hard to keep up this language even though I went through shit from my peers for it. I was the only speaker of this language I knew that was my age after the age of 10. The only other time I’d hear it was when my mom criticized me, wanted to manipulate me (because I told her she sounded sweeter in Russian so she used that to her advantage in making my life hell) bc my brother stopped speaking at a young age.

The only reason I have this connection is because I’ve never worked harder for anything else in my life. I took years of Russian lit courses (in Russian) at the local uni when I was in high school. Until then I’d only done math and reading (just for fun not for school) in Russian. Having learning and sight disabilities and being expected to keep up with both college and high school class and workloads was overwhelming at times. Like I was 14, this wasn’t an “easy A” as my friends joked, it was a college level literature course. But I loved it like nothing else. It was an oasis of peace during my adolesence just getting to hear my dearest language spoken by both native speakers and those who adopted it just because of their love for it. It was the first time I realized that this aspect of me isn’t shameful. Plus, the college kids treated me like I was such a hotshot because I grew up speaking the language and I was like a tiny 14 year old in a russia Olympic jacket and a bowl cut so that made my life. Just getting to be around places where for once, I understood everything that was being said in the exact emotion it was intended, having my cultural touchstones be the norm and that I got to interact with instantly more people in this language was really special.

Maybe what pissed me off so much is not only that I think it’s wrong, but that I think she’s right. My experience is different from a Russian experience, which is why I never claimed to be Russian even when I was the most Russian person in that classroom. My experience of being Russian (Jewish) (Italian)American is as much a story of love and connection as it is of shame and disconnection. It is the story of pain feeling inadequate to everyone, always. When I was six, kids were already refusing to play with me because their parents told them I was a spy or an enemy (which wtf who parents their kid like that) just because I talked about visiting my family in the summer (which is a normal thing to do) and gd forbid they live in RUSSIA. The bullshit hasn’t stopped since. My entire childhood, my mom was vigilant about who I was allowed to tell about being Russian because of it. I thought Russian a really important language to people here. I thought they cared about us. I thought someone else who didn’t have to care about us, fucking cared about us Russian Jews. How can a fellow Jew, an academic, not understand the inherent pluralism of Jewish and Russian experiences when she’s lived in this country surrounded by Russian Jews her whole life?

And I get it. I’m not technically Russian. I don’t have a Russian passport. I didn’t grow up in Russia and that still means there’s always someone more qualified to answer certain questions. But I didn’t think it was going to be some goyische fucking German. Cuz at least I saw saturated with these types of discussions about Russian politics, not being allowed to voice my opinion bc these are Russian jewish middle aged and older people lol kids don’t have valid opinions to them, but listening intently since infancy. I watched Russian news and tv shows (we didn’t have money for both English and Russian language tv so my mom chose the Russian tv channels) on the rare occasion I sat in front of the tv. I hung around Russian speakers more than English speakers (of my parent’s age and older) for most of my childhood until this year. And it’s not just the language, it’s the culture too. It’s the fact that no one around me shared these cultural touchstones growing up. and I didn’t share their American ones even though I grew up in the US.

But trips to Russia didn’t make me feel understood in the ways I craved it would. My family always commented on how amazingly I spoke Russian «просто без акцента!» (without an accent) *insert kisses from relatives you don’t even know who they are but they know everything about you* so I was always kind of aware that I couldn’t seamlessly fit in there either. Especially when in my mom’s small town, children who played with me had literally never seen someone with my color of skin and told me I looked “dirty” which catalyzed my whole washing my hands till my arms got dry and peeled and being frightened that I wasn’t getting “cleaner” and then getting diagnosed with my second subset of OCD at the age of seven. I had so many fond memories of my mom’s hometown. So much nostalgia. But I also have memories which pain me, like the many times I was chased out of stores or once in a doctor’s office because the person assumed I was Roma because of my appearance (like I said, small town). Things got even worse when the school I went to summer camp/summer classes in my mom’s hometown found out I was JEWISH. Oof. My mom convinced me that I was betraying my culture and my ancestors and alienating myself from my grandmother when I came out to her at 11, when I cut my hair after three years of her daily verbal harassment in my mother tongue (she knew it hurts more like that). She said if I wanted to continue “on this path” I would lose all connection to Russia.... “and you don’t want that, do you?” Suffice it to say, I got the message pretty young that I don’t belong in Russia either.

My whole life I’ve been translating half of my world to the other half of my world. And within each of these worlds I must translate my contexts many fold times more. (My Babushka still doesn’t know why I’m putting “poison” in my body for what she sees as a character flaw because she just doesn’t have the context for what ADHD is and the way I was taught to translate it in Russian is «дефицит внимание» or “deficit of attention/carefulness” which as far as she’s concerned is just an American invention for what could really be solved if I just sat more still.) And this has made my world so much richer to be lucky enough to have two native languages in which I learned how to express myself and gave me two whole realms through which to intimately understand the world and all of its nuances. You gain a family when you speak a language. It’s unlike anything else! It was even more special that I got to add Arabic at 12 and now Hebrew. I’m so lucky. But an inherent downside of being taught world views that conflict with each other in some very fundamental ways is really hard when you’re autistic and have ADHD because you have to juggle not just one set of social cues and norms, but two (or more, shout out to the multilinguals from childhood). It’s hard but it’s important and I’m so lucky that this was my birthright. I just wish people would take two seconds to try and understand. Or at least think about if something they said might make someone else feel like this, especially if they’re jewish. Like to ya it’s not a new thing to be torn in many directions. Even here where it’s the dominant culture, I expected her as someone who lives here and is an academic, she’d be better.

#jewish #class #school #study abroad #russian #russian jewish #queer #trans #russian jew #jew #adhd #autism #diaspora tag

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dripfeednationseoresellerpr-blog · 4 years

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ngame989 · 5 years

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Were Star and Marco selfish in that finale? They both risked by throwing away their lives to be together for a few more moments. I do think it's beautiful, but still.

Sigh. I don’t want to be mean or be a bad guy here, I really don’t, but… please just… stop reading whatever it is you’re reading or doing whatever it is you’re doing to lead you down these paths. The show’s over, it wasn’t perfect and some of the plot stuff was left unclear at times but in terms of “how are the actions of main characters framed morally/what makes them happiest” etc, it’s pretty explicitly defined and crystal clear. But let’s break it down because there IS a point I want to make here that isn’t so much a “show told us this explicitly” grey area but a “sympathy for and between characters” one that’s a huge problem in the fandom. So this one goes out to everyone else unironically thinking that they’re being selfish/hurtful here.

Let’s start by making two things clear:

FACT: they sacrificed their relationship for the sake of stopping Mina by destroying magic. Star didn’t tell Marco initially, sure, but they both knew dimensions would be closed off and Marco didn’t fight or get mad or anything when he realized there was no plan, he was on the same page Star was about stopping magic being the priority.

FACT: they did not intentionally/consciously cause the dimension merger at all. Any issues as a result of it aren’t their moral failings because they had no intention to do it. And even then, it’s cartoon logic so it’s pretty obvious that overall Earthni is positioned in a decent spot where on a broad level things will work out, better than Mewni did before - is it realistic, maybe not, but it’s a magic princess show where cats have human faces sometimes. All that matters is self-consistency, and it has that. Cornball’s lesson is that there will always be problems, but if the next generation is allowed to grow up together they’ll generally learn to accept each other and live harmoniously, and Earthni will allow them to do that (and Earth humans are pretty chill in SVTFOE so they’ll get along similarly).

So the area left to consider potentially lies in between. It lies in the decision to go back to the Realm after they destroyed magic and choosing each other, in whatever form that took, over the prospect of the rest of their life on Mewni or Earth without the other; not with the result, just that decision. So now that we’ve established that, what’s left, let’s walk through it.

“But they’re leaving so much behind!” - What obligations do they have left? I don’t mean “things that would be nice if they did it”, I mean concrete commitments they’ve made to others in their individual lives on Mewni and Earth. Star has… basically none, anymore, and Marco has being a big brother for Mariposa, which is something he has made clear is important to him. So the brother thing is there, by choosing to stay he’s sacrificing that. Point granted. But otherwise, there isn’t anything left that they are failing friends/loved ones at by leaving them behind.

“OK, fine, but so many people will be hurt/sad if they leave even without a firm obligation!” - This is the nexus of the argument, really. Besides being a brother for Mariposa (which, for the record, isn’t something he has an objective obligation for necessarily - it’s a promise he made, yes, and I’m perfectly willing to count it as a genuine trade-off he’s making, someone he’s genuinely letting down by leaving, but she isn’t physically reliant on him to survive), the only thing really left is simply the fact that there are people who would miss them on Earth and Mewni. Now take a moment and consider awful that logic is. “If someone will miss you or be sad when you leave, you’re therefore selfish for leaving.” I should hope it’s absofuckinglutely patently obvious why that’s not only absurd but even potentially harmful of an ideology. It paints Star and Marco (or anyone it could be applied to) as tools for other people’s happiness. But there’s still one more thing, which might even be the most important…

OTHER CHARACTERS still want Star and Marco to be happy, and THEY’D be selfish if they put their own desires to keep Star and Marco around over what made Star and Marco happy. This is the fundamental failing of this reasoning and actively paints every other character in a BAD light just to try and shit on Star and Marco. It makes it seem like Star and Marco need to be self-sacrificing tools for the happiness of others, AND that those others would be OK with them doing that! The Diazes or the Butterflies or Tom or Janna or anyone would want the people they care about to be happy, even if that happiness wasn’t with them. It’s the primary theme of the season as a whole - seeking happiness and fulfillment in life and understanding where it comes from.

Note that I’m not trying to suggest that they’re selfish JUST for being sad over it, but overall they’d want their friends/family to find happiness and fulfillment in life. Would they be hurt, still? Yes, sure, emotional pain over someone they care about leaving would be there. There’s varying degrees of sadness and happiness that exist, sure, but the key here is that Star and Marco (and everyone else) have identified that they’re the core of each other’s happiness and fulfillment, and that isn’t the case for their relationships with others. It’s not a matter of “Star and Marco feeling happy is more important than other characters feeling happy”, it’s that Star and Marco desire to be together so strongly that they could not achieve true, lasting happiness without it, but the same can’t be said for anything they share with anyone else. How do I know this? Other characters themselves recognize that too - it’s Tom and Janna that lead Star and Marco to the portals, after all! That is quite literally the entire point of Sad Teen Hotline, in Tom’s case, even. The selfishness would lie in characters prioritizing themselves feeling sad over their loved ones finding fulfillment in life, and honestly it’s a massive disservice to all the supporting cast in the show to assume that they’d not understand this.

So after this breakdown, the point of attack I’d expect next would be “But them being so fundamentally important to each other’s lives in the first place is fake/forced/wrong/selfish/codependent/adjectivevomitoftheday.” At which point I finally feel so little sympathy for this hypothetical person that I’m comfortable leaving them with the classic:

#starco #svtfoe #star vs the forces of evil #analysis #answered #unfortunately #ido100

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tropewizardtournament · 5 years

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there is an indentation in the shape of you (made your mark on me)

Harry hates being set up. It doesn’t matter who has actually done it or why; he just hates it. The last time Hermione tried to set him up with her colleague, he had almost bit her head off. No Hermione I’m totally fine with being single, he had said. It looks like you are the one who hates it.

It’s a wonder he still has his head attached with the way he behaved.

After numerous failed attempts, his friend had given up. She finally understood that Harry was very picky about his dates and their interests would probably not line up together.

Unabashedly he had presumed that he was totally free from being forced to go on meaningless dates. Until Ron had struck that is.

Now Ron has been his best friend since forever. After a decade of friendship and watching Harry go through a messy break up and daunting dates, he has never mentioned anything about his love life. His best friend is understanding and has been the one to persuade his girlfriend to back off when she has veered into the Forbidden Land, also known as Harry Potter’s Love Life. So when the tall redheaded man casually informed his bespectacled mate that the upcoming Friday he had to have dinner with this ‘woman’, he had blanched.

“Wha-why? Did Hermi-“

“No. I have decided that you need to get off your ass and do something on the weekends except joining us on our dates.” The calm tone of his voice was quite unnerving but his words had made an impact. Before he could sputter out an apology, Ron had used his infuriatingly leveled voice to inform that until Harry found a person with whom he had been on more than three dates he would be his manager. “Plus she’s great. You’ll like Mary. She is a writer you know,” he had added unhelpfully.

So now, three weeks after that dreadful conversation, he is dining with Witch No. 3, Stacey.

Stacey is not bad exactly. In the looks department, she is quite stunning. With her skin and eyes looking like glazed chocolate and thick black hair, she looks as if she has stepped out of a beauty pageant. And like most of the girls in beauty pageants (not all) she is a bit self-centered. She has been talking non-stop for the past half hour and although it is a welcome change from his dates continuously asking about him, it has become boring very quickly. He believes that it’s a common trait shared among singers.

Mary hadn’t been bad but she was so engrossed with him that it stopped feeling like a casual date and more like an interview with a younger Rita Skeeter. Ron had gotten an earful for his choice.

Sloshing the wine in his glass, he forces himself to listen to her in case she asks him about his opinion. Which he highly doubts but it is good manners.

“-And I don’t eat meat on Thursdays because my mother has this ritual where-” Oh God.

“Actually that sounds interesting. Mind if I use the loo for a moment?” Without waiting for her response, he hurriedly makes his way towards the back of the restaurant. He needs to have a break from the non-stop chitchat.

So hasty he is in his escape that he crashes into someone with a force large enough to knock his breath out. Fortunately his Auror training has honed his skills and he catches the person before they can hit the ground. The waiters mill around the crash gracefully and he is left staring awkwardly at the too familiar fiery haired woman in his arms. His evening really has turned out to be a disaster.

“I’m so sorry! I wasn’t watching where I was go-Wait a minute! Harry! What are you doing here?” Getting a little startled by the sudden hug, he steps back. Small hands push back his chest and he stares at a pair of wide, brown eyes with a thumping heart.

“Ginny? What are the chances?!” Ginny looks more stunning than the last time he saw her. Her vivid red hair is made into a bun and she is dressed in a blue cocktail dress. She looks beautiful and eternal. Her freckles seem less prominent in the dimly lit area which causes a pang to go through his body.

He combs his hand through his hair. “What are you doing here?”

Ginny quickly glances back and grabs his hand to drag him away. She leads them towards the back entrance inconspicuously to the point that he is impressed she is not an undercover spy. Banging open the large doors she casts a privacy and silencing charm in quick succession. Watching his incredulous expression, she shrugged. “Reporters everywhere. I’d like to talk to someone without having a scandalous story printed on the paper. I assume you feel the same way.”

With that she flops down on the pavement. Grinning, he does the same.

“True. My name’s been splashed on each paper every morning for the past three weeks. And all thanks goes to your brother.”

She raises her eyebrow.” First of all now that he has done something he’s my brother otherwise he’s your boo. And second of all, what did he do to you? I have plenty of reasons to be mad at him myself.”

Harry opens his cuff buttons and rolls his sleeves up. “Your brother has made himself my love life’s manager. Apparently I ruin his date nights so I have to suffer. Where does he even run into these women?”

“Will it make you feel better to know he’s inflicting the same punishment on me?”

He pauses rolling his sleeve. “What?”

“Yeah. Apparently he’s everyone’s love guru nowadays. Something to do now that he is in a happy relationship. I am so close to strangling him you have no idea.”

“So today you’re on-“

“A date? Yes. I’m so close to either gouging his eyes out or mine.”

Harry starts laughing and Ginny joins in. Within a few seconds they are literally lying on the floor and giggling like toddlers. He has missed her; he has missed her so much. Everything is easy with her. His smiles come easily whenever he’s with her. Ron once told him that his sister was like a cheering charm in the form of a human being and he had never been more right.

“My date is a boring twenty five year old Larry from the Ministry who has a weird fascination with tea. I just tolerated about an hour of listening to how many types of tea there are in the world. Trust me when I say I’m never trying oolong.”

“Sounds interesting.”

“Only if you’re kettle I’m sure. And speaking of interesting,” she straightens her dress and stands up. “Are you having fun on the date?” She extends her hand towards him.

“She’ll be a great date to someone else.” He sighs and takes her hand to stand up.”Like herself. And I don’t think I’m up to her standards. I’ve been thoroughly bored for ages.”The road is not that much crowded but even now he sees a few people staring at them with their jaws wide open. Ginny’s warm laugh catches his attention.

“Go inside and tell her that you will have to leave. Meet me by the coffeehouse just close to your place. It’s called ‘Another’ I think. Oh and wear something nice.” Without giving him any warning, she cancels the charms and skips back into the restaurant.

Harry chuckles lightly and makes his way inside.

“Okay if you have hypothermia and you really need to get warm quickly. What are you going to do?” The café door opens and lets in a blast of cold air but both of them ignore it. The soft tune of a jazz song fills the entire room with a sort of tranquility that he has missed.

“I’ll have hot cocoa then. But if it’s not that severe then cold butterbeer it is.” Ginny takes a long sip of her cold coffee to prove her point.

Ditching Stacey and practically dashing to the café to avoid being seen must have been her best idea ever because he is having much more fun than he has had for a long time. She looks beautiful in the dimly lit space, ethereal to be honest and far livelier than he can remember. The only downside (if he can even call it that) is her inexplicable attachment to cold beverages. It’s kind of cute actually.

“So you’re saying” he pauses to take a sip of his tea “you’ll rather face the cold, clammy hands of death than ever try anything hot.”

“No. I’m saying you have to shove me to the cold, clammy hands of death for me to drink anything hot to save my life. Pay attention, will you?” He laughs loudly at that.

He has always enjoyed spending time with Ginny. She was shy at the beginning when all he was to her was The Boy who Lived and the guy who saved her (he argues with that vehemently, she has saved his life too). But then she started speaking more and more. That day in his Fifth Year when she finally snapped because of his complete disregard of anything concerning others, he understood what a force she is. She kept him happy; those days spent at the Burrow after Sirius’s death and the Quidditch practices in his Sixth Year were his only escape. Leaving her for the Horcrux hunt was one of the hardest things he had ever done. She had absolved him of his decision but sometimes he wonders whether that has broken a fundamental part of their friendship. Or maybe, a traitorous voice calls out, it’s because of those warm and fuzzy feelings that rise in you which you are afraid of.

“Do you know why Ron is trying to set you up?” Her voice breaks him out of his reverie.

“Apparently my love life is nonexistent. But then again, he has never complained about it before. Why did he try to set you up though?”

She sighs and waves the waitress over for a refill. He doesn’t think that he has seen anyone drink so much iced coffee in such a short span. “Same. I made the mistake of complaining to him about the lack of guys who aren’t sexist. Apparently being a female Quidditch player attracts as much attention from pigs as Harry Potter attracts from Dark wizards.”

He cracks a smile. “That reminds me to congratulate you on the Most Number of Goals award. You were fantastic in the game. You made Wood cry!”

“Like it was hard.”

He hums in agreement. Oliver was always really very emotional about Quidditch- still is apparently.

“Say Harry?” Ginny leans forwards making her dress dip a little which he dutifully ignores. “I have a feeling that my dear brother is going to try to set us up again next week.”

“Again? Man that sucks. I should not be giving control to a man my age that still has his cereal with orange juice.”

“I thought Hermione made him stop.”

“He does it away from her. He loves Hermione but not more than that atrocious combination.”

“Hey, no one comes in between a Weasley and their food. Anyway I was thinking maybe we should mess with him.” Her eyes blaze at her own suggestion and Harry isn’t ashamed to admit that she looks absolutely gorgeous when she is planning something nefarious. “Next week both of us make an excuse and ditch our dates and meet over here. Say about 7:30?”

He startles. “But that’s like only thirty minutes spent with our dates.”

She raises her eyebrow. “And that’s a problem how? Okay let’s just think this as a way to keep Ron on his toes. Plus if either of us likes our date, we would send a message that we’re not coming.”

He doesn’t exactly like the plan. Ron has generously provided him with an unnecessary but thoughtful gesture. But then again spending time with Ginny is something he has always wanted. Every Friday spent with her will be like his deepest desire come true.

Seeing his hesitation, she whispers, “I’ll drink every hot drink you suggest for a whole month.”

“Deal.” Like there is anyway he’ll miss that.

And so it starts. Every Friday for the next three weeks they meet up in a hurry. Aside from every Monday, Wednesday and Saturday when they either grab lunch or coffee or sometimes a movie. He finds out Ginny has a weakness for Muggle movies and a thirst for violence and she finds out he likes watching rom-coms.

Not a bad arrangement. And when they curl up together in his flat after she has taken a shower at his apartment on days of Quidditch practice and spread her flowery scent everywhere, he pretends that it’s the real thing.

It is going good which should have been the first sign that something was going to go terribly wrong.

In this weird arrangement they haven’t taken in a very big factor otherwise known as ‘Ron’. As he’s both Harry’s best mate and Ginny’s brother, they didn’t want to let him know anything that will conclude with him accompanying them on their coffee ‘dates’. But at the same time they had forgotten that he is the one who sets up their dates and might follow them to the said coffee shop for a public confrontation.

“What are you doing here?” If he hadn’t been in the Aurors for so long, he may have jumped when he spots Ron’s scowling face.

“The more important question, brother dear, is what are you doing here? And trust me when I say that any reply of yours will be much stranger than ours.” Growing up with the twins must have numbed all of her senses from making her jumpy because she barely even blinks at his question. All in all he’s quite impressed.

Ron pays her no heed. He slides into the booth opposite to them and snatches a napkin to wipe away the drops of water clinging to his face. Rubbing his skin harshly, he continues. “I knew something was going on. Raven and Liam complained to me two weeks ago about how you both ditched them. I gave you both the benefit of doubt because I thought ‘Well they sure are very career oriented!’ Then Maya and Jeremy let me know how you both left too. Something was wrong, I knew that much. So I set you up today and disillusioned myself to keep an eye on you. And voila!”

Ginny leans back and crosses her hands in front of her. “And still you didn’t think about shielding yourself from the rain. You know what they say- appearance trumps practicality,” she drawls.

Ron’s ears turn red and he opens his mouth. Not wanting to get caught in the midst of a Weasley brawl, Harry hastens to interrupt. “First of all, I told you I didn’t want to go out with anyone. I tried to like them, I really did. But they are all either too much invested in The Chosen One or themselves. It’s torture.” He feels as if he’s confessing for a crime but it’s Ron: he deserves the best.

Ginny sympathetically nods and links their hands together. Her brother stares intensely at their linked hands before piercing him with an unreadable look. Not liking this look, he continues. “And second of all, you always put Ginny and me in the same restaurants. You should have known we would seek each other. Honestly these coffee outings are the highlights of my evenings.”

“Well I had thought you both would feel more comfortable if someone you know was present.”

“Yeah I’d love to watch a girl stick her throat down Harry’s throat.”

“Ginny!”

“Sorry. You think I’d love to watch him stick his tongue down her throat.”

“GINNY!”

“At least I’m selling you higher than me.”

“That’s not the point.” A mild cough wrenches his attention away from the woman plastered against him. A pair of piercing blue eyes swivels between them and Harry resists the urge to go to his side of the booth. He doesn’t want unwanted accusations. And if Ginny smells like a fresh morning, it’s not his fault.

Ron adopts his sister’s posture and glances at him. “And now? What’s happening with you guys now?” His ears turn a light pink but he doesn’t avoid his gaze.

He has to spell it out to him (and ignore the fact that his best friend is asking regarding something different).

Before he can tell him about how he doesn’t want to go on any more dates, Ginny straightens up. She sidles up to him and lays her head on his shoulder. “Oh Ron! We should’ve let you know. Harry and I are dating for about a month now.”

Her bright words are met with heavy silence. Ron seems to have forgotten to close his mouth. His gaping slack-jawed expression might’ve been funny if Harry himself was not reeling back from her statement. And if that’s not enough, she peers up at him and flutters those eyelashes.

Fuck.

Dating? Since when? He’s sure he would remember if something like that had happened. Is she trying to get me killed? She’ll probably be the only one who will succeed that’s for sure. Also that same annoying voice in his head barges in with a ‘Plus you will definitely remember dating her, won’t you?’

Surely Ron won’t believe that. Would he?

Ron takes a big gulp of air and leans towards them. “Is it true Harry?” His voice carries a tremble of what he’s not sure. Harry glances at Ginny and sees a look of pure desperation. She’s trying to get out of being set up, he thinks. And isn’t that what he wants? Steeling his nerves, he looks deep into Ron’s eyes and gives him the brightest fake smile.

“Of course mate.”

He is suddenly knocked back by the forceful nature of Ron’s hug. He seems to be hugging both of them with no abandon. Harry pats his trembling back and prays that he doesn’t die due to suffocation. Ron immediately lets go but not before kissing both of their heads loudly. All of the customers and waitresses have stopped to look at the commotion that is Ron.

“My best friend and my sister!” His eyes are glassy and he is wiping his nose with a napkin. “MY BEST FRIEND AND MY SISTER ARE DATING! ALL MY DREAMS HAVE BECOME TRUE!” Ron laughs like a little child and looks at them with so much affection, his heart aches. It’s all a lie, it beats.

Ginny stands up and sidles over to Ron’s booth. She hugs him tightly and shoots a worried look over his shoulder towards Harry. Yes, agrees his thumping heart, things just turned out to be interesting.

Dating someone and fake someone is a lot different at the same time very similar. First of all there is an uncomfortable ‘fake’ added in the front which makes both the parties present very uncomfortable.

But he can guarantee that no one does fake dating better than Ginny Weasley. She’s a pioneer at everything he attempts.

“So you’re probably thinking why I lied to Ron yesterday.” She brushes her hair strands away from her face and takes a sip from her miraculously hot cocoa.

“That didn’t cross my mind actually. My question is why we’re meeting at six in the morning. Oh and why are you drinking anything hot? Is there an impending doom I should know of?” He wryly replies before sipping his hot tea.

She holds out her index finger. “First of all don’t be an asshole.” Another finger goes up. “Second of all I was trying to get Ron off of our backs. I mean just think about it. No more dates being set up, no more meetings, no more dates.”

He starts at that. No more dates… He envisions himself sitting in front of Ginny and laughing. Visiting other places, weddings, events and introducing her as his date. His brain is telling him not to make the decision. She’s dangerous; you won’t know when you are so entwined with her that it’ll be difficult to leave. But his heart… well, his heart is thudding with all the different scenarios. He has always wanted to do that with someone but never allowed himself to think about it.

“I don’t feel lying to your family.”

“Me neither.” Her gaze flits outside the window. October has turned out to be beautiful. The red leaves literally the streets like blood. An irony considering his own blood had died in this month. “But I want to stop worrying over a guy claiming to have given me my career boost. With you I don’t have to worry about that.”

“Why me?” He feels like a petulant child but he needs an answer. She looks at him with an unreadable gaze and reaches out her arm. As she links their hands together, she casts her eyes downward. She looks vulnerable and soft and so captivating in the autumn morning, his heart skips a beat.

“Because it’s you. That’s all.” She replies simply.

Assessing the situation, he sighs. There is, after all, no use pretending he hasn’t made his decision since last night.

“Okay. I’ll do it.” He levels his gaze at her shining orbs. “Do we have any rules?”

Ginny suddenly gives him a razor sharp grin and all he can think is fuck. “Now that wouldn’t be fun, would it?”

It’s a surprise how well they settle into this schedule as if they had planned this from the beginning. Going to the coffee shop, the neighbouring bookshop, restaurants and other Muggle venues (like the parks and ice cream parlours) is normal for them. But now there is this intimacy which everything had lacked.

Ginny does not sit across him anymore. She always sidles up next to him when they are in a booth or moves her chair towards him. She has taken to giving him innocent touches like a hand holding his elbow or her head resting on his shoulder or a leg thrown over his lap. He had problems reaching out to her in the beginning and wordlessly she had known. However after spending three months with her and realizing that she was not going anywhere, Harry had taken to her as a man dying of thirst to water.

“Not that I don’t like this but what brought this on?” She had asked him amusedly.

“Nothing. Just glad to be here.” He stopped caressing her hair. “Do you want me to stop?”

“Don’t you dare.” She closed her eyes and practically purred. “And can you massage my scalp too?”

“Sure.”

He doesn’t know what they are because this feels like ‘real dating’. They don’t put on shows for their families. They have a few rules like no kissing on lips or spending the night at each other’s places but he doubts anyone believes them.

The Weasleys had been so shocked and thrilled when they had announced their secret relationship. Mrs. Weasley had nearly fainted with joy and George had planted dungbombs at his apartment. Bill, Mr. Weasley and Charlie were happy and Percy had come a little too close to the truth (“Suddenly? Out of nowhere?”). But no one had been as excited as Ron. He had been so supportive that even Ginny had been reluctant to continue with their ruse. Hermione had been a little suspicious but even she forgot all about it when Fleur started crying.

Telling Andromeda and Teddy on the other hand was less nerve wracking. The old witch had always been fond of Ginny and accepted the news graciously. Teddy had asked a very red faced Harry whether she was his godmother or not but soon forgot about it when she started to teach to morph his nose into those of other animals’. He had left the house feeling warm all over.

The first time he had seen a picture of them trying to ice skate in the Witch Weekly, his heart had nearly melted. Ginny in the image had been trying to get him to give her a piggyback ride which ended with them sprawled on the floor. He has found a lot of things about her in these past few months. And liking piggyback rides is a very big Ginny thing. He remembered how his colleagues had mocked him and badgered him into bringing her for a night out. They had loved her and in return, he had to go to her matches. He had always rooted for her but being in the match and watching his pseudo girlfriend wreathed in gold and green zooming about and leaving the others in the dust had left him reeling back with happiness. He had sloppily kissed her cheek after the game had ended to everyone’s delight. And that was how he had encountered the Harpies.

However the people he had never considered informing about his dating history and those he hadn’t thought about since the war were the Dursleys. He didn’t know where they were or how they were doing and frankly he didn’t care. He thought the same could be said about them.

Until now.

“Have you decided what do you want to do? It’s his graduation.” Ginny re-reads the invitation the umpteenth time and spares a glance at Harry standing in front of the window. “He sounds like he really wants you there.” On the 1st of December, he had received from his cousin a letter regarding how he will be a winter graduate and will be graduating on 10th and how he will like it if Harry comes to his graduation day party. Dudley has finally managed to totally baffle him.

He continues gazing outside, watching a woodpecker trying to drill a hole in the huge tree in front. He doesn’t know what to do. He owes them nothing. His entire childhood was spent trying to fit into a family that hated him for being something he had no control over. He doesn’t care for them. Then why is he imagining Dudley’s farewell before he left? Why is he hesitating to throw out the invitation?

Cold hands encircle his waist and Ginny lays her head on his shoulder. She is so tiny but in this position it feels as if she’s trying to protect him from the entire world. “I’ll go with you.” Her voice is soft yet strong. He is not surprised by her statement. She has always been too giving.

He turns towards her and encircles her in his arms. He feels safe with her. Always has. “You’re willing to endure about an hour of torment for me?”

“Anything for you.” Her expression is earnest and so full of something that he has never had the courage to name. “I’ll support you no matter what.”

Ron’s voice cuts through the stillness. He enters the room adorned with snowflakes and a grumpy expression. “No screwing on the table! You guys never keep your hands to yourself!”

Ignoring Ron and biting his lips to stop his bubbling laughter, he whispers to Ginny. “I hope you have something nice to wear.”

Her grin turns mischievous. “Don’t worry. I’ll wear something to show how much of a catch I am. And also sprout some lines about what a great lover.” She kisses his cheek and runs out of the room to escape a spluttering Ron. Harry laughs and presses his hand to his cheek.

“And that was Marge. She was far more pleasant than I thought she will be.” He guides a very cross Ginny away from the bulbous woman. “She hates me so your efforts are both appreciated and wasted.”

“She doesn’t even know you! She literally called you a waste and insulted your parents. I’m going to rip off her arm and feed it to her dogs so that they’ll have indigestion.” She tries to make her way to probably throttle her opponent but Harry is too quick for her. He tugs her arm and leads to the empty hallway.

“Don’t Gin. This was never my family. I don’t care what they think.” He brushes her bangs aside. “Plus it wouldn’t do good to ruin your dress.”He fights the impulse to shift his eyes downwards.

She gazes at all the other merry guests who are drinking heavily and laughing rambunctiously. Finally she lets out a heavy sigh. “It’s-it’s just I hate it you know. They should see you for who you are. But then again it’s good they don’t because you don’t deserve people like them.” Seeing his reddened face, she smirks. “Plus you’re right. This is a rather pretty dress. I have told Dudley and your aunt how soon it’s going to end up on your bedroom floor.”

He blinks. “That’s why he was blushing when he asked me if I have to use the upstairs bedroom.”

“It is the dress. I can be your eye candy for the evening.”

“You are more than my eye candy. You are a-a very talented woman with beauty, brains and brawns.”

“Can’t find a term for that, can you? Must be the dress.”

“Yes.” His eyes rove over all of her exposed skin. “Definitely the dress.”

When he had seen Ginny float down from her flat, he nearly had a heart attack. It is a beautiful dress by itself; a dark red number with a tight bodice and a halter strap. But on her it seems like the most powerful weapon in the world. Her hair is twisted up in a bun so that a few tendrils fall on her face like licks of flames. Add to that a bare back putting her freckles on display and a little bit of cleavage- she looks like a goddess. The moment she had shed her coat, all the men had gravitated towards her and Ginny had done her beat to make him feel like the most superior man in the room.

“You know,” she wets her lips and leans forwards, “we can get to that later on.”

Her eyes blaze at her own suggestion and Harry feels the temperature of the room climb high. He settles a hand on her waist and moves closer till their faces are centimeters apart. Just as he is about to do something reckless, a voice calls out, “Harry!”

Ignoring Ginny’s groan and his thundering heart, he croaks out “Yeah?”

“Come on! There’s a dance starting!”

Both of them untangle from each other to see other couples moving to the living room. He leads her to the dance floor where everyone IS lightly swaying to the music. Ginny grabs hold of his shoulder and comes tantalizingly closer. He feels light-headed and heady especially with the way she is touching him.

“Why don’t we give them something to gawk at?” Her breathless voice is inches away from his ear making a shiver run down his body. Ginny pulls back, only for a second though. Cradling his face gently, he pulls his lips to hers.

Amidst the loud gasps emitted by everyone, he feels lost. This is blissful oblivion. This is the thing he has been craving for, something only Ginny can fulfill. This is something so complicated yet safe.

Just as he is preparing to pull back and drag her to his place, he senses something buzzing. He breaks away from Ginny and just has enough time to ask ‘What-‘when a light blinds him and the force of something throws him off.

Complicated. Why is his life so fucking complicated?

#ship: hinny #trope wizard tournament #tropewizard 2019 #tropewizardtournament #submission

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cygnahime · 5 years

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FFX Liveblog Repost 1

I posted this on my DW (cygna_hime FTR), but no one seems to be interested in talking about my FFX Opinions over there today, so I’m reposting it over here. This just gets us to Besaid village. Yeah, I talk a lot.

I'm feeling a yen for cutscenes, so am starting a new save, this one with the original sphere grid and music. I also have a save that's in the endgame sidequest zone, but I'm not feeling blitzball or monster catching at the moment (and I'm never feeling chocobo racing, worst minigame in history that isn't an escort mission). Tidus is very different in the brief time we see him in his element in Zanarkand, where being a sports star has slightly gone to his head (or at least made him think he can flirt). Being perpetually wrong-footed is good for his personality. Although, if I were a national (worldwide? it's not like there's anywhere but Zanarkand) sports star at seventeen, I'd probably have some ego too. When was he allowed to start playing professionally? He has to have been new and shitty at some point. Duggles player with the braids remains super hot. That's just facts. Too bad she's, like, double-fictional. I also still want Bahamut's excellent hoodie. Good fashion choices, although I would wear a shirt under it. So is the sword one of Jecht's old ones, or is it literally a "gift" in that SinJecht has been leaving presents on Auron's doorstep like a cat for the last ten years? Someone fic that, please. It is profoundly hilarious to me that Auron is supposed to be like 30, the more so now that I'm 30 and still have a severe case of babyface. He still looks much more like my dad (age 60-odd) than like me - more hair, but also deeper face lines. Then again, I guess when you're dead you look as old as you feel, in which case I don't want to think about how I'd look. Quantumly uncertain, I suspect. Is she a Literal Child or aged beyond belief? It's both! Still, JRPG ages tho. G-d, I'm older than almost all these characters who still "feel" my age. I mean, part of it is that life-stage-wise I'm somewhat younger than Tidus still (job whomst), which is...pretty depressing...and part of it is that JRPG ages are fundamentally arbitrary, but also, fiction is funny that way. I mean, Tidus, Yuna, and Rikku are believable as teenagers, it's just that when I see them I'm on some level their age and meeting them for the first time. Spiran ecology count: 1 hawk/eagle/seagull thing. It took me a minute to figure out the Al Bhed Compilation Sphere, which I'm not sure I've ever actually used before. I want to know what the Al Bhed at the beginning are saying for once. I'm impressed Tidus knows how to make a fire with flint and tinder. I sure don't. Maybe he was a Zanarkand Scout. It makes pretty much 0 sense that the Al Bhed, an ethnic minority, are confused by the idea of someone not speaking Al Bhed. Especially considering that Rikku speaks Spiran/Common/whatever without even an accent. So does her dad, for that matter, but her brother struggles later to put together a few words. I guess it's a skill only some Al Bhed take up? I presume anyone who goes among Yevonites with any regularity speaks Spiran, even if they pretend not to. It can be a great advantage to be assumed not to understand. Spiran ecology count: a bunch of fish. Tidus's brain carefully elides the fact that in his world no places other than Zanarkand exist. I mean, that's how dreams are: you don't always think about stuff. And of course Jecht shows up to get us on course for the plot. This is much less of a plot device if you think of it as the character having an itinerary for Tidus to follow. Spiran ecology count: a flock of seagulls. aaaand it's my dude Wakka! He knows two things, and they are blitzball and adopting stray teenagers. Well, I guess he's also fairly well up on Yevonite religious doctrine, but that is literally all lies he's going to have to unlearn in the course of the game, so it doesn't count. /gently swims over to pick up the Moon Crest before Tidus has any reason to know it's there or might have any use to him whatsoever. I love the Aurochs, not least because all of them (except Letty) give me free items. I try to keep as many of them as I can on my blitz team. Unfortunately in my other save I had to let Datto go to make room for Nimrook. Can't let other teams have Nimrook. There's an entire post in here about FFX and breathing underwater, which is apparently just a skill that you can learn that then allows you to play a five-minute half of physical activity and being tackled without coming up for air. I have a feeling Wakka and Chappu pushed each other over that cliff a lot. Wakka is probably literally wondering if this is his brother somehow come back with different hair and clothes, on a subconscious level even if he doesn't let himself think it out loud. Tidus is not yet having it. He'll get there. They're both friendly guys. Spiran ecology count: 1 fuckton of coral. Beautiful. "If we give it our all, I can walk away happy." No, Wakka, we are going to win, and I will reset as many times as it takes to make that happen. I wonder what the religious landscape of Spira was like in the pre-Sin days. They presumably had one, or several. It's a people thing. Something animistic, maybe? I mean, presumably fiends and the whole pyrefly situation were still there. Spiran ecology count: 2 cats with weird spine fluff. I want to pet them. Spiran ecology count: 1 dog which I also can't pet. I wonder what the many other statues in the temple are supposed to represent. In my little worldbuilding corner, they were all High Summoners, and the four big statues are just the most famous or recent. Keeps the stonecarvers in business. But I think it's supposed to be that only the four were successful, over a thousand years. That's a little too depressing for me, though. Especially given the number of summoners per year we see kicking around. Three at a time at least, plus more for there to be "rumors" of them disappearing before any of the named ones were missing...Surely it's more likely for one of them to make it through. If you don't turn her away, Dona shows up in Zanarkand shortly after you do. I really love the NPC dialogue. Everyone has their own sentence or two, and they change throughout the game based on plot progression. There's worldbuilding - I love the fact that Besaid is known for its weaving - metaplot, and just all kinds of flavor that make the world feel lived in.

#Cygna Fantasy X #FFX

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noiksy · 5 years

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Kitchen and Moonlight Shadow Book Review

Book Review: Kitchen by Banana Yoshimoto

Date of Publication: January 30th, 1988

Date started: May 15th, 2019

Date ended: May 25th, 2019

Recommended by: Amzy

Beware of spoilers!

I wanted to get back into reading, so my dear friend Amy recommended me the book Kitchen by Banana Yoshimoto. Immediately, I was very attached to the two introductory paragraphs. From the simplistic hook to the tonal shift with the line, “When I raise my eyes from the oil-spattered gas burner and the rusty kitchen knife, outside the window stars are glittering, lonely” (Yoshimoto 2), I knew I would be one of my favorites. I haven’t read much Japanese literature or any literature at all recently. Growing up, I have always been fascinated with manga and anime, especially throughout 2015-2017. For a book project I had at the end of Sophomore year of High School, we were able to choose a book above a certain Lexile level to write a book report on. A few years back, I had ordered a book titled No Longer Human by Osamu Dazai that I discovered from the anime Bungou Stray Dogs. I decided it would be the perfect book to read due to it being so short, and it ended up being one of my all-time favorite books and since then I’ve wanted to read more Japanese literature. And now here I am, reviewing another one! Kitchen is a novel taking place in 1980’s Japan staring the character Mikage Sakurai, a young adult orphan who had recently lost her Grandmother. She begins the story lying on the kitchen floor, contemplating how she ended up where she was. Not soon after that, we are introduced to the male lead Yuichi Tabane who rings on her door and asks Mikage to move in with him and his mother, Eriko. The book is very simplistic in nature, but it is easy to become attached to every character. I am someone who enjoys Boys Love (BL), so to have me so emotionally invested in a heterosexual pairing is amazing. Both Mikage and Yuichi had a wonderful connection! There was immediately so much chemistry between the two that I found myself writing cute little comments such as "Does she fancy (a reference to Twice) him? Ooh~" and "So soft!" beside all their dialogue. I never felt as if there was a power dynamic between the two. The two seemed to genuinely care and understand each other. There is a particular part that stands out to me in chapter 1 when Yuichi asks Mikage to come over (Spoilers ahead!). Mikage commands Yuichi to buy ingredients for dinner and she is helping him bring them upstairs. They stare at the moon and Yuichi begins talking about Mikage’s passion for cooking by stating, “Don’t you think that seeing such a beautiful moon influences what one cooks?” he goes on to say, “You know that I think of you as an artist. For you cooking is an art. You really love your work in the kitchen. Of course you do. Good thing, too” (Yoshimoto 61). These two seem to truly connect with one another on a spiritual level and I am happy the two have each other to lean on, especially throughout the events in chapter 2. I am someone who aggressively ignores synopses. I have a hyperactive mind and with titles, clips, and synopses, I create an image of what I expect a story to be and I am always disappointed. Because of this, I was pleasantly surprised to discover that Eriko was transgender! I am not well versed in identity politics in Japan in the 1980s, but even America in 2019 struggle with this! While the characters seem very conflicted on how to identify Eriko, I noticed that never had anyone referred to Chika or Eriko by pronouns other than she/her! Even when stating that Eriko was a man, they still referred to her by her proper pronouns. I didn’t realize how touched I would be by this simple gesture, but it shows the reader just how accepting and loving these characters all are with each other. They truly come across as a family who wants the best for each other. The book is very short and it is hard for me to find someone that I actively disliked. The only thing that bothered me was the introduction of ex-love interests such as Sotaro. I assumed they would be more important than they were, but they definitely give us some background on the characters and helps ground them to reality.

One thing I would critique is the cover. I know people say “Don’t judge a book by its cover!” but I have to disagree. Many may know that I am an artist, while I’m not a designer, composition is a fundamental everyone is required to learn. I have recently become aware thanks to Amy that there are two book covers! I will be critiquing both book covers.

This is the cover that I received when I ordered the book off amazon. I feel like the cover portrays the contents of the book well. I am someone who is not the biggest fan of people on book covers. I am an artist, so seeing illustrations on the cover is always a plus for me. I feel like I would have preferred the cover if the girl was removed from the front cover. I don’t mind her on the back cover, but she almost feels out of place on the front cover? I would never consider this to be an ugly cover, but I am a firm believer that anything can be improved! I do enjoy the color scheme! It feels very carrot-y? It feels very kitchen-esque.

This is the second book cover I have seen. This cover reminds me a lot of No Longer Human, which is another cover I enjoyed. It is a very simple cover with different shades of pink, Kanji, and the English title and author name written in white. I find simplistic covers to be the most stunning, but I almost find the first cover to fit the story better.

All in all, I feel as if this has become one of my new favorite novels! It is very short and bittersweet! I love a nice story where the events are very self-contained, almost slice-of-life like where the events are very personal to the characters. While the incident in chapter two might only affect Mikage, Yuichi, and Chika, they are very personal and develops their characters. Due to this, I highly recommend this to anyone who wants to get back into reading with a very short yet easy read!

Bonus: Moonlight Shadow

Moonlight Shadow is the companion novel to Kitchen. It is the second book in the novel and continues to explore Kitchen’s themes of life continuing after losing a loved one with new protagonist Satsuki. Satsuki has been with her lover Hitoshi for almost 4 years before his tragic accidental death that also took the life of Yumiko, Hiiragi’s –Hitoshi’s younger brother- girlfriend. Satsuki takes on jogging to help her cope while Hiiragi begins wearing Yumiko’s sailor uniform. This story suggests that everyone has their own way of coping and that closure is needed to properly move on.

This book also deals with food bringing people together. when she is sick and tells her to open up to him. Urai first bonds with Satsuki over Pu-Arh tea. Similar to how Katsudon brought Yuichi and Mikage together, it also brings Hiiragi and Satsuki together. Hiiragi joke’s that Satsuki has fattened up, when really, she has lost a dramatic amount of weight. Hiiragi brings Satsuki KFC when she is sick and tells her to open up to him. Urai first bonds with Satsuki over Pu-Arh tea.

In comparison to Kitchen, Moonlight Shadow is a heavier story with a more ambiguous ending. While Kitchen was, for the most part, straight forward, Moonlight Shadow has a more fantastical element with the introduction or Urai. Urai is an intuitive figure whose goal is to bring Satsuki closure due to her connection with the river (Spoilers ahead). While it is never fully addressed how Hiiragi was able to see Yumiko again, the story does end with both characters beginning their journey to move on.

Kitchen and Moonlight Shadow are both amazing stories that deal with various themes of mourning and isolation. Despite both stories having similar themes, I did find myself enjoying Kitchen more. They were both amazing stories, but I ended feeling more connected to Mikage and Yuichi’s relationship. Despite this, I still highly recommend both stories!

#book review #banana yoshimoto #amzy elizabeth #books #reading #japanese literature #japanese lit

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hawthornewhisperer · 6 years

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YOU get a role reversal and YOU get a role reversal and EVERYONE GETS A ROLE REVERSAL FOR SEASON FIVE!!! (but mostly Bellamy and Clarke)

One of my favorite things thus far about s5 has been the Clarke/Bellamy role reversal, where he’s now the measured, logical one trying to keep as many people alive as possible and she is the one laser-focused on one life and one life only. Now, there’s some major differences--mostly that each of them has already been in the other person’s shoes-- which should make it a little easier for them to achieve equilibrium again, but what I am most interested in right now is that Bellamy has noticed the role switch and is already concerned about Clarke.

Let’s start with their first real conversation in six years. Clarke gives herself a moment to collapse into Bellamy’s arms and once she’s sure he’s real and not a hallucination, she snaps back into Momma!Clarke mode, asking after Madi. Bellamy doesn’t miss a beat and reassures her Madi is safe. What Clarke doesn’t know at that point is that Bellamy had taken steps to keep Madi safe long before that, from refusing to let her get out of the rover to ordering Madi to retreat the moment he knew he had control of the situation.

Basically: Bellamy found a small child in the woods, discovered Clarke was alive, and immediately put two and two together that Madi was probably the most important person in Clarke’s life now. Granted, there’s also his overwhelming Dad Instincts (there’s nothing Bellamy loves more than a smol murder child) and the fact that Bellamy has always been smart as hell and incredibly perceptive, but above all else: Bellamy is the only person in Spacekru who has already been in Clarke’s position. Emori had a brother, but she and Otan (from what little we know of them) were more or less equals. E.cho literally didn’t have a family until the Ark, and every else’s ties to each other were more along the lines of best friends/lovers, and not Parent and Sort of Child. So he knows, better than anyone else there, exactly how Clarke must feel about Madi even before he knows anything else about them.

Clarke and Madi’s relationship is in many ways fundamentally different from Bellamy and Octavia’s, mostly because Clarke got to have an actual childhood before becoming a Maternal Figure. (Please note: at no point in this meta should you assume that I’m saying because Clarke didn’t raise Madi from an infant that makes her not Madi’s mother-- families come in all shapes and sizes and configurations, and the show has been very clear that Clarke should be seen as Madi’s mother and I’m taking the show at face value on that. Nor should you think this means Madi and Clarke is as intrinsically unhealthy as Bellamy and Octavia, for reasons I will untangle shortly. But there are some parallels here, and I think it’s important to tease those apart.) Clarke also found Madi when she was far, far less helpless than Octavia was when she was born (for obvious reasons) and, most importantly: Madi and Clarke faced no greater threat than surviving the elements.

That’s not to downplay how hard it must have been to survive because as we saw in 501, surviving was incredibly difficult. But neither Clarke nor Madi faced a greater power who might sentence them both to death for coughing at the wrong time or leaving a ribbon caught in a trap door. Madi faced something similar for the first ~6 years of her life, but for the next ~6 years, she lived in relative peace with Clarke, and what’s most important about that is Clarke learned to be Madi’s mom without the threat of execution hanging over their heads. Death was a risk, for sure, but there’s a huge emotional difference between “we might die if we don’t hunt enough before winter” and “we might die if I word a sentence the wrong way and someone figures out you exist.” The former is stressful, no doubt, but the latter is something that can warp even the healthiest of minds.

So Bellamy and Octavia still hold the title of Most Fucked Up Relationship On The Show, for a whole lot of reasons. But the salient point here, my friends, is that the second Madi materialized to murder three grown adults single-handedly, Bellamy understood Madi and Clarke’s relationship on a level no one else could. (Yes, there are parent/child relationships galore on the show, notably Indra + Octavia, Indra + Gaia, and Abby + Clarke, but those are far, far more standard than Bellamy + Octavia and Clarke + Madi, which bear unique pressures.) And as the season has gone on, we’ve gotten two subtle-but-important moments of Bellamy noting the role Clarke has taken on, and more importantly, recognizing that Clarke is falling into some of his less-than-healthy-season-one-patterns.

First up, we have this scene, where Bellamy asks how Clarke survived alone. Clarke demurs and says she wasn’t alone because she had Madi, but Reader, Bellamy already knows that. He knew it before he even rescued Clarke, even if he didn’t have the details yet, and by this point a few days have passed so we can assume they’ve covered at least the essentials. So when Bellamy says how did you survive alone he’s not assuming she found Madi three weeks ago and was alone for the vast majority of the six year separation; he’s saying I know exactly how hard it is to be in charge of someone you’re not quite prepared to take care of and to feel like you have to sacrifice everything you are to keep them safe; that must have been very difficult for you. And when Clarke straight up blows him off, he knows exactly what she’s doing. Look at his face throughout that gifset-- that is Bellamy’s understanding-but-skeptical face, as he’s pushing for a real answer and then letting it drop when he sees Clarke isn’t willing to go there. But rest assured, by the time Clarke is like “well this conversation is getting way to feelings-y; I’m out” Bellamy has clocked that Clarke isn’t ready to acknowledge just how fucking hard it is to be an Accidental Parental Figure.

Because of course “having Madi” isn’t the same thing as “having a partner.” Clarke knows this deep down, because she didn’t stop radioing Bellamy the day she found Madi. She had to keep talking to him to stay sane, because “keeping Clarke sane” was not Madi’s responsibility. Clarke has moments where she lets her guard down and wavers, like when she asks Madi if she thinks Spacekru is ever coming back, but overall, Clarke pours her need for companionship and emotional support into the radio-- to Bellamy, whether or not he’s listening-- and not into Madi. (Interestingly, in the released script of that scene, Clarke put her head in Madi’s lap, which gives that scene a whole host of different implications buuuut they didn’t end up filming it so I’m not gonna tackle it here). Clarke spent six years without anyone there to take care of her emotional needs, and Bellamy has already been there, done that, and bought the t-shirt, so he recognizes a fellow “I don’t matter, my child does” traveler when he sees one.

And then a short time later, Clarke starts musing about how different Bellamy is, and we get another hint of Clarke copying Old!Bellamy’s habits. Diyoza would have killed me if not for you. Madi would be alone, Clarke says, and guys, go look at Bellamy’s reaction to that. He’s noticing that Clarke’s main concern there wasn’t her life, but the effect it would have on Madi. You know who else considered their life only worth saving if it meant saving their Sort Of Child?

Bellamy, from season one through most of season four.

Now again: Clarke and Madi are a way healthier relationship than Bellamy and Octavia ever were, because a) Clarke became Madi’s mom when she was roughly a college sophomore and not a freaking first grader, b) Madi is younger and in need of more protection than Octavia was in s1 and c) because of reason (a) Clarke was far more emotionally healthy and prepared to take on this responsibility. And this is not to dismiss Clarke’s sacrificial maternal instincts as misguided, but Six Years Of Peace And Quiet!Bellamy has gained a little perspective that Desperately Trying To Protect Octavia!Bellamy didn’t quite possess, and that perspective is: your life matters beyond your ability to protect someone else. He’s noticing that Clarke has stopped caring about her own life more than she ever did before, and this new version of Bellamy isn’t comfortable with that because he’s been there and fought his way out of it.

As to where they go from here: I do suspect that there will be conflict between Bellamy and Clarke over Madi, but not of the “Bellamy wants Clarke to stop caring so much about Madi” variety. I think Bellamy’s issue is going to be Clarke’s reckless disregard for her own life, because dammit, he just got her back.

A/N: I know Octavia isn’t the most popular person in the fandom right now and that’s totally fine, but let’s keep the Octavia-bashing off this post because the point of this meta is not “Octavia sucks” but “here is something Bellamy is noticing about Clarke because he’s been in her shoes before,” okay? Okay cool thanks my dudes.

#the 100 meta #bellarke meta

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