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sincelastsession · 14 days

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I have had more creepy men hit on me recently. Is it cuffing season or do I have a flashing sign over me saying "OMG WEIRDOS SHE IS HERE"

....

I never posted this yesterday like I thought.

I'm really nervous and anxious about a lot.

Justin and I spoke and I was clear with him. I felt guilty for everything. He's unable to see the things he did that were wrong. He is clearly upset with me and thinks I led him on. I apologized though I shouldn't have to because that was never an intention to hurt him. There was a frank discussion and it was awkward. My partner was right.

My mom visited and helped me with a few things. I have to see my psychiatrist soon. I'm very worried he may want me to go inpatient. I'm not a harm to myself or others. I'm just very hypervigiliant and have been dysregulated too much from many many triggers in a short time. I agree with her.

She did see my book and she did flip through it and take a picture of the cover. She was not happy that I feel she has contributed to my mental health issues and was on the defensive. Hurt dogs gonna holler though. She did allow me to read some of it to her and explain that I saw she was very traumatized too and that is probably why she responds how she does and that I did see her trying. I think hurt people hurt people. I think she has work to do like me. I still am hurt that I'm the one busting my ass trying to fix all the things within my circle of control but I understand that some people aren't capable of growth. It hurts to be aware of that and it's hard to emotionally accept.

Logically I can see most of my issues and that of others. Emotionally it takes me a long time to catch up to the logic. I know I can't just logic myself better or it would be done by now. That's exactly why therapists see other therapists aside from consulting and such. I couldn't treat myself by myself even at the highest level of education. That's just not how brains are setup.

My mom being a charge nurse, doesn't think I belong near any facility because she doesn't think it's helpful and that there should be affordable facilities or medicaid covered ptsd places as it is traumatic for those who have cptsd or regular ptsd.

My partner is being more vulnerable with me and admitted to having auditory hallucination type problems when things were quiet so he doesn't like total silence and listens to certain types of music to soothe. He didn't tell me of a diagnosis. He said there were several factors that caused it. I'm not bothered by this in the least. I'm glad he opened up to me. I understand a lot more now.

Growing up with a schizophrenic uncle taught me early on that it's not a pleasant thing for people who experience hallucinations to deal with. People with neurological disorders aren't bad people. There's a huge stigma around it. My Uncle suffers terribly from his but he has never be an asshole and he used to come out of his room to spend time talking to me before he'd tell me he was going back to his room. My Aunts have forbade me from speaking to him because he's not well. I think it's bullshit and he could use someone who isn't going to treat him like he's broken and isolate him. My heart hurts for him. He's honestly my favorite uncle. I think we have always understood one another. I always felt like he was an older sibling more than an Uncle.

I hope my partner understands that I'm never judging him on his issues. I hope he understands that I'm safe to continue opening up to. If he's not ready to explain his diagnosis but has a handle on his issues to the point they aren't hurting me then that's ok.

I have many things I'm not ready to tell him. I think it's a bit wild how we are alike in many ways.

Dr. Todd always told me that someone similar, with high intelligence, and problems of thier own that they work on would be good for me. I wish he was alive so I could ask him more questions about why. He was a smart man. He knew things about the world that most people think of as conspiracy. He worked on secret things that just make me sound nuts if I were to explain. I think it's why he told me not long before he got suddenly sick and passed. He knew no one would believe me. That's ok though. They don't have to. The govt already released some of the information anyway. The rest will probably come in due time. I know it sounds batshit but there's far more things in this world than what we know or are able to grasp and many things considered fringe science are actually real things. It would cause mass panic if everyone knew. I missed bringing him coffee today to his grave. I really need to do that soon. It's ok if no one understands.

The people that loved me and understood me most are all dead. It feels like it's my fault. My friend Cole used to joke about how I was a harbinger of bad luck. He died not long after in a very sad way.

Matt got me to eat yesterday. He told me "We all have our own ways of fighting ourselves, but now you’re fighting back" when I told him I was embarrassed that I was having trouble even picking out food. I allowed him to pick for me and felt relief. I am fat but I definitely needed to eat. My eating disorder doesn't get to win.

My mom told me today that my neighbor is way bigger than me. I don't body shame ppl. It did give me perspective though because I can't see myself correctly. If I do it's rare and I feel very distressed because it brings me back to medical and other physical traumas. I would rather be unaware that my body exists and only clothe it with things that don't look terrible. I generally need help shopping for clothing. It's very triggering to see my body during trying things on. Only certain people are good at being honest with me. However I haven't really developed a wardrobe. I still have beat up shirts from when I was a teen. I'm actually really sad one of them is beyond wearable outside of the privacy of my home because of the ridiculous amount of holes. I really need to build a style and wardrobe. I want to look good but I don't really know what suits me. I feel jealous of the women that have an "aesthetic" and look gorgeous, get their nails done, and wear cute makeup looks. I want to fit in. I feel like I'm a shape that nothing looks good on. I saw a plastic surgeon and was told I needed to be like 150 for her to touch me. I didn't want much done. I don't want to be thin with saggy extra skin. I feel 180 would be a healthy weight for me and I wouldn't look bad. I keep wanting to be in the gym but I don't know which one is going to be what I need. There's so much physical work I need to do on myself.

Matt knows I struggle with all this. He doesn't push me to show him my body or do things that make me uncomfortable.

I am really tired. I truly feel burnt out right now. I feel like I won't get to move or get a break. I'm in survival mode and I can't remember the last long period I was not. Matt helps but I'm trying not to rely on him for everything. I've been like that my whole life. Trying to not rely on people. I have to though sometimes. I know why I'm like this. I know what things did this. But knowing is great and all however undoing it and balancing myself to be healthy is terrifying. Normal people scare the fuck out of me more than literal serial killers and people who stay in psych facilities. Sometimes I think ppl are overdiagnosed and underloved and completely misunderstood. I wish I could help rehabilitate people in a way that doesn't involve it being scary. I have to rehabilitate and parent myself first though. I was a parentified child and now I don't know what to do because society expects me to be an adult and I want to decompress and do everything I missed out on.

I need to go decompress and have some time with my earplugs in because my neighbors are being very loud and it's "ratchet" as my neighbor Ms. Darlene would say. I don't want it kicking up more stress but it is. It's 11:41 at night and they are loud as hell.

I was told by my psych that if the noise was causing problems and the earplugs weren't helping and I felt unsafe then I needed to move to a quieter safer feeling place. I can't get better if I'm unable to get put of freeze state. I'm exhausted from it. Hearing a man hollering and whoever else outside from inside my apartment is overwhelming. I should not be reenacting my childhood hiding in my bed breathing shallow quiet as a mouse.

I wish I could have imaging done to see what's damaged in my brain from lifelong trauma. I want to understand what that looks like and just know about it. See it. Feel like I'm not crazy because I have that as proof.

I watched the movie split and the movie glass yesterday. They don't portray the DID patient as how it really is the story and acting were phenomenal. I've met DID patients and OSDD patients and I understand it. It's incredibly sad but they're protecting themselves. I find it interesting that one trauma or a couple can split some people into many parts and unless I do have a dissociative disorder I really don't understand how I turned out this way. I don't even know how I got lucky and didn't end up full on DID or a sociopath etc...

Ok I think that's enough for tonight.

I'm going to go fuck around on Sims4 and have distraction time from the LOUD ASS PEOPLE

BTW the pool is GREEEEEN like I had a breakdown one night and asked whatever deity might listen to make the noise stop. Woke up to THIS. I feel like it was a blessing of sorts. I can't explain it. But LOOK! (The color is actually pretty though) I hope they take FOREVER to clean it. I liked swimming but it's too hot and the pool was always full of rude people that wouldn't give me space. I think a gym with pool lanes will be good for me.

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my-bated-breath · 4 years

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On an Immensely Popular Post

Disclaimer: What I’m writing here may not be completely accurate -- like most works of art, literature, and even STEM tend to be -- and as a new fan of ATLA, a few of the metas I publish may be obsolete or unintentionally insensitive. That being said, I like to believe that I can contribute something valuable to this fandom. In all my (real) metas, I wish to be as objective as possible and not rely on my biases, fanon, or common “knowledge” that may just be misconceptions. If anyone reading this finds something to be false or contrived, I am always welcome to constructive criticism. What I am not welcome to is senseless hate or bashing.

My first experiences with the ATLA fandom begun a long, long time ago, but the most recent and powerful revival of my love for ATLA started with me actually watching the show and soon after, with me falling into the endless abyss of ATLA metas on Tumblr. Sifting through the well-written analyses and the emotion-based rants had taught me a lot about critical thinking and the power of influence, so now I’d like to present a meta that critiques an extremely popular post with over 60,000 notes. And since it’s so popular, this is the part where I must make yet another disclaimer.

Disclaimer: I hold nothing against lesbians4sokka (whose name has now been changed to comradekatara). They have the right to share what they want, but since this particular post has become so influential that it’s still being reblogged regularly to this day, I believe it is within my right to criticize it - emphasis on “criticize,” which is different from “hate.”

Now that that’s out of the way, let us begin:

Lesbians4sokka/comradekatara covers 3 main subjects in their post, which I will quote/summarize below:

(1) Ma/iko: “...the entire foundation of mai and zuko’s relationship was built on how miserable they were together, and how they would just sit there and hate the world together— letting their misery fester as they enabled each other’s depression— and I think that’s really unfortunate because they would work so well as friends if they weren’t trying to make their dumpster fire of a relationship work.”

(2) Zutara: “similarly, what makes zuko and katara’s dynamic so compelling is that they share the same flaws, only as opposed to mai’s apathy and misery, it’s katara’s rage and guilt that zuko identifies with. they both share trauma over having lost their mothers, and both in a similar way (sacrificing themselves for them) and they both cope with their grief through rage, often misplaced… katara and zuko have a deep & profound friendship, but if they were to be in a relationship, they would only bring out the absolute worst in each other thru enabling each other’s rage and emotion-driven decision making.”

(3) Z/uk/ka: this pairing makes for a healthy and wholesome relationship because throughout the boiling rock, we see that “sokka and zuko make an excellent team, as they balance each other perfectly. sokka thinks big picture, and plans ahead, but zuko will charge into situations.” They inspire each other, they trust each other unconditionally, they become more open and supportive of each other, they share a lot of common interests and narrative parallels, and in general, just make each other happy (which could work both platonically and romantically).

As for my response: I’m sure many of you are expecting me to start to save the “best for last.” That assumption would be incorrect because I actually have the least to say about point 3.

I agree that Z/uk/ka can be a good relationship. Their dynamic is funny, playful, supportive, etc. etc. (there are so many positive adjectives I could use to describe their dynamic, the list could go on forever). And they could make a great couple.

…

What, did you expect more from me? That’s it, I’m done.

I’m not here to attack Z/uk/ka as a ship, because while I can never actively ship it (I’m a sad, narrow-minded exclusive shipper, always had been and always will be) I can objectively appreciate them as one. It’s points 1 and 2 I’m more concerned about.

Now, since we’ve already begun working backward, I’ll begin my critiques on point 2: I could write extensively about the parallels between Zuko and Katara, including but not limited to shared pain and a few shared flaws - and just a few, because their weaknesses diverge in many important places. However, since I’m trying to write as objectively as possible and since Zuko-Katara parallels have already been discussed to death, my analysis will focus elsewhere.

However, something from comradekatara’s post that I would first like to address is this-

[Zuko and Katara] both cope with their grief through rage, often misplaced. in the southern raiders, they both act deeply insensitively towards sokka by acting as if his grief over his mother’s death is somehow less valid simply because he is a lot quieter in his coping mechanisms and doesn’t project his rage & guilt onto everyone else.

- or rather, the idea that Zuko and Katara’s shared pain causes them to act insensitively towards Sokka (and though the post does not mention it, Aang as well).

(Note: these points have already been covered by countless metas before mine, so you can skip/skim this section to read a newer argument in the next section.)

Even ignoring the fact that the Southern Raiders had many out of character moments, Katara’s insensitivity towards Sokka is first and foremost a reaction against his insensitivity towards her.

_____

Dialogue from Season 3, Episode 16 “The Southern Raiders”:

Aang: Um ... and what exactly do you think this will accomplish?

Katara: [Shakes her head in dismay.] Ugh, I knew you wouldn't understand. [Begins to walk away.]

Aang: Wait! Stop! I do understand. You're feeling unbelievable pain and rage. How do you think I felt about the sandbenders when they stole Appa? How do you think I felt about the Fire Nation when I found out what happened to my people?

Zuko: She needs this, Aang. This is about getting closure and justice.

Aang: I don't think so. I think it's about getting revenge.

Katara: [Angrily.] Fine, maybe it is! Maybe that's what I need! Maybe that's what he deserves!

Aang: Katara, you sound like Jet.

Katara: It's not the same! Jet attacked the innocent. This man, he's a monster.

Sokka: Katara, she was my mother, too, but I think Aang might be right.

Katara: Then you didn't love her the way I did!

Sokka: [Hurt] Katara!

_____

While I believe that Aang’s principles of forgiveness are morally sound, the way he pushes his beliefs onto Katara undermines much of her grief. At first, Aang tries to relate to Katara’s experiences by comparing them to his own, but there is a forceful connotation to his dialogue that suggests that Aang considers himself to be the moral authority compared to Katara. Hence, Aang judges Katara (“I think it’s about getting revenge”) without trying to reach out and understand her, forgoing the empathetic common ground in favor of taking on the moral high ground.

Thus, when Sokka tells Katara, “she was my mother, too, but I think Aang might be right,” Sokka is not only saying that Katara should choose forgiveness, he is implying that Aang is the ultimate moral authority on this matter and that Katara should accept that. Moreover, similarly to Aang, Sokka’s opening line, “she was my mother, too,” had the potential to establish common ground between himself and Katara, but the added “but…” places Sokka on the moral high ground against her instead. Of course, when we remember that just two lines ago Aang equates Katara to Jet, Sokka agreeing with Aang seems even more thoughtless and unsympathetic.

So when Katara lashes out against Sokka, ostensibly “acting as if his grief over his mother’s death is somehow less valid simply because he is a lot quieter in his coping mechanisms and doesn’t project his rage & guilt onto everyone else,” it is important to note that Sokka undermines Katara’s louder, more visible way of grieving as well (though that discounts that for most of the show, Katara only uses her grief over her mother’s death to sympathize with others).

Moreover, Katara’s line, “then you didn't love her the way I did!” is hurtful, yes, but it is not necessarily equivalent to “you didn’t love her as much as I did.” Katara’s love for her mother is different from Sokka’s because her pain over her death is different -- after Kya’s passing, Katara had to carry the emotional burden of becoming a pseudo-mother to Sokka (see Sokka and Toph’s conversation in “The Runaway”), a burden that did not cease after she joined the GAang (see the entirety of “The Desert”). To Katara, Kya was not only her mother, but the representation of the childhood she lost and the sacrifice made to protect her life. Sokka simply does not have that same relationship with Kya.

I do not mean to say that Sokka and Aang unfairly taking on the moral authority in this situation means that this authority instead belongs to Katara (and Zuko) - “The Southern Raiders” is filled with questionable moments from all parties involved. However, TSR is an episode that delves into Katara (and Zuko)’s relationship with a mother’s sacrifice, so how Zuko and Katara respond to this specific trauma from their past does not dictate how they respond to painful circumstances in the present/future. Let’s see how this is true.

Sozin’s Comet, Part 1: The Phoenix King

No doubt Zuko and Katara felt some form of frustration upon Aang’s disappearance, so let’s see how they “[enabled] each other’s rage and emotion-driven decision making”:

Here, Katara and Zuko make a decision together that turns out to be calm, rational, and not at all emotionally-driven despite their mutual frustration and worry towards Aang.

Sozin’s Comet, Part 2: The Old Masters

Zuko holds immense pain and self-loathing over betraying Iroh, yet Zuko and Katara’s conversation does not enable/exacerbate negativity from any party involved (since Zuko often translates his grief into anger, and Katara was evidently angry at Zuko’s betrayal). Instead, their conversation is open, encouraging, and constructive.

(Note: this is where the review of points made by previous metas ends.)

Hence, to say that “[Zuko and Katara] would only bring out the absolute worst in each other [through] enabling each other’s rage and emotion-driven decision making” - when we are given in-canon examples of the opposite being true - would be a sweeping and inaccurate generalization.

But for the sake of argument let’s say that, hypothetically, Zuko and Katara’s relationship would fail because they only bring out the worst in each other. And here’s where the argument falls apart for me - Is the argument here that Zuko and Katara have an incredibly meaningful friendship yet somehow this “friendship” causes them to enable each other, thus encouraging each other’s worst flaws and regressing each other’s growth? Is a healthy friendship - much less a “deep and profound” one - not one where two individuals can learn from each other in positive ways and balance each other’s shortcomings?

Or is it something different we’re saying here? Are we saying that two individuals can have a “deep and profound” friendship and yet the moment their relationship shifts from platonic to romantic, they are terrible for each other?

While many significant platonic bonds are stunted when they become romantic, I still believe it to be common sense that some of the best romantic relationships stem from a platonic foundation. But since much of “common sense” on the internet sees that “sense” is nonsensical and “common” is a nicer way to refer to mob mentality, I have done my research to show how Zuko and Katara could have been an excellent case of a friends-to-lovers relationship.

An excerpt from my meta, “Research Shows that Zutara Would Have Been the Ideal Friends to Lovers Dynamic.” (give it a read if you want to see references to relationship-research and an overanalysis on diction/tone)

The reason why Zutara is framed as a “toxic and unhealthy” relationship is that their romance would be a classic example of the enemies-to-lovers trope, a trope which modern media has not been particularly kind to. However, when executed correctly, enemies-to-lovers can produce a healthy and loving relationship, frequently relying on friendship as an intermediate between the “enemy” and “lover” stages in the most well-executed versions of this trope. Meanwhile, the trope of friends-to-lovers is just as popular as enemies-to-lovers, though the specific dynamic required between two individuals to achieve this transition is not well-known. Recognizing this, Laura K. Guerrero and Paul A. Mongeau, both of whom are involved in relationship-related research as professors at Arizona State University, wrote a research paper on how friendships may transition into romantic relationships…

According to Guerrero and Mongeau, “...scholars have argued that intimacy is located in different types of interactions, ranging from sexual activity and physical contact to warm, cozy interactions that can occur between friends, family members, and lovers…” Guerrero and Mongeau then reference a relationship model where the initial stages (i.e. perceiving similarities, achieving rapport, and inducing self-disclosure) reflect platonic/romantic intimacy through communication while the latter stages (i.e. role-taking, achieving interpersonal role fit, and achieving dyadic crystallization) often see both individuals as achieving a higher level of intimacy that involves more self-awareness.

In the rest of my research-based meta I demonstrate how Zuko and Katara’s platonic interactions in the show fit into the stages of communicative intimacy (i.e. perceiving similarities, achieving rapport, and inducing self-disclosure) that Guerrero and Mongeau describe as being mutual between friendships and romances. As such, crossing the line between friends and more-than-friends most likely would not cause a dramatic shift in the Zutara dynamic since much of Zuko and Katara’s platonic intimacy easily translates into romantic intimacy. I’ll end off with another excerpt from my meta.

Excerpt from “Research Shows that Zutara Would Have Been the Ideal Friends to Lovers Dynamic.”

“...it would be remiss to simply dismiss the Zutara dynamic as one that would instantly become toxic should they pursue a romantic relationship.”

With that little thought in mind, let’s move onto point 3: an exploration of friendship, romance, and why toxicity is not exclusive to the latter.

Let’s start with what I agree with:

“The entire foundation of mai and zuko’s relationship was built on how miserable they were together, and how they would just sit there and hate the world together— letting their misery fester as they enabled each other’s depression...”

I’m not sure how necessary it is for me to elaborate on this point given that it’s already been accepted by comradekatara and perhaps 60,000+ other users on Tumblr (a gross exaggeration but this remains unimportant), but in her essay, “Zuko, Mai, and the Nature of True Intimacy,” Araeph contributes more nuance to the concept of Ma/iko and mutual misery, stating that,

Unfortunately for [Zuko and Mai’s] relationship, Mai is and will always be a pessimist—a character trait, not a character flaw, in her. The key difference lies in how Mai and Zuko use their negative feelings. When Zuko sinks into negativity, he gives up on any actions that will materially change his world for the better; Mai, on the other hand, can remain negative even at the height of her character development, and it does not impede her ability to act.

So while Mai enables Zuko’s depression, Zuko does not necessarily do the same for Mai. Nonetheless, throughout their relationship for the first half of season 3, neither of them communicate constructively or push each other to grow as people.

This may be the third disclaimer I’m making, but I first want to say I have nothing against Mai. However, I do have something against the idea that “[Mai and Zuko] would work so well as friends if they weren’t trying to make their dumpster fire of a relationship work.”

Their relationship is a dumpster fire, yes, but will the flames cease simply if the amount of intimacy in the relationship changes?

comradekatara state themselves that their entire romantic relationship is quite depressing - they are only able to connect through empty physical intimacy and mutual hatred of the world. Without that, there is little left for them to bond over. Once Zuko overcomes his conflicting morality and inaction from the first half of season 3, he becomes someone who is strongly guided by his principles and beliefs. However, for the entirety of the series, Mai is characterized by her moral apathy. To cite from Araeph again,

It is moral intimacy that is the last and worst omission for Mai and Zuko… Zuko’s struggle to find and follow his principles is the most central aspect of his character, yet it is a struggle Mai neither understands nor respects…

Lack of moral intimacy (not sharing the same core beliefs) is something that applies to both platonic and romantic bonds. Thus, just as transitioning from a meaningful friendship to a romance does not inherently create toxicity in a relationship, switching from a romance that exacerbates one (or both, depending on how you interpret it) party’s misery does not necessarily erase the preexisting negativity in a relationship - perhaps some of it may subside, sure, but as long both parties continue to fail at communicating and understanding each other, even their friendship seems bleak at best. In this case, Mai and Zuko may work well as conditional friends, or in other words, friends who are only friends when they have something to mutually be miserable over. And this tiptoes the line of speculation, but they could be a formidable political team. But unless the Ma/iko dynamic shifts drastically in the lovers-to-friends transition, I’m not sure if there’s much potential in a friendship between them.

In conclusion, there is a lot I don’t agree with from comradekatara’s post, but if there’s one takeaway I want to impart onto everyone who’s read this far, it’s this: crossing and uncrossing the line between platonic and romantic bonds is not always a transformative experience for the relationship, and the nature of human relationships is a complex spectrum -- not a light switch that can only be set between healthy and unhealthy.

Thank you all for reading!

#atla #atla meta #my bated breath analyzes #this is more pro-zukka than anti-zukka #but I will include neither in my tags #zutara #anti maiko #once again this is a critique #not a post meant to tear anyone or their views down #my bated breath's posts

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darkdevasofdestruction · 4 years

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I really really love the when you become a fallen piece, could I possibly have that with Diavolo? Pretty please? Thank you for reading this.

Yes, definitely! I will write this here, so I hope it’s not weird! I was debating whether or not I should post it on the other thread with the brothers, but maybe here it’s okay too <3

P.S. after I wrote it: I MAY HAVE GONE A BIT OVERBOARD WITH IT, OOPSY DAISY-

---

Long ago, before the Celestial War happened, you, as another Seraph, would look up at Lucifer and how he was loved by everyone, how his brothers adored him...And you?

You were like a caged dove, without any bit of freedom...

You were raised and taught - not like all the other angels - but you were meant to be the key to the Devildom and Celestial Realm allegiance.

You were meant to be the future King of Devildom’s future wife.

So while Lucifer received praises from Gods, from the Cherubim, from the other Archangels...

You, on the other hand, only received criticism from the lower-angels constantly on your back, punishing you if you didn’t behave as you were meant to.

And your dark feelings kept harbouring inside your heart for a long time.

These feelings were only amplified tenfold when Lucifer had the audacity to rebel, along with his brothers, and was welcomed with open arms in the Devildom, by the same man that was supposed to become your Husband...

How vile.

And you wondered...

If you were to rebel and run away as well...

Would he welcome you with so much enthusiasm?

...Of course not, why would he?

He may be your soon-to-be Husband, but all the angels were strict: “You must be his wife, but never grow feelings for such a disgustingly impure, immoral, unethical and vile monster such as him. He is evil incarnated, that’s why he’s the future Demon King!”

So you kept enduring and enduring, until you were finally brought before him, not yet to wed, but to spend the day together and get used to each other.

Needless to say, Diavolo, despite thinking that Lucifer was gorgeous...He found you to be more than ethereal, for lack of better words in any language.

He was happy, he wanted you by his side, despite all the inhibitions and shyness that were brought along with you, but he understood the situation, he was already aware of it, thanks to Lucifer, who was already aware of the problem, naturally.

So for the whole day, he tried to help you ease around him, to look at him with your beautiful E/C orbs that sparkled like the stars in Heaven, to see you, without your wings covering you, as all Seraphim had the habit of doing, he wanted to hear your crystalline voice, loud and clear, not just whispering in his ear whenever you had the courage to say something.

He wanted to hear your laugh, that would be like a lullaby to his ears, he wanted to see your genuine smile, that made his heart explode with a myriad of emotions.

And more importantly, he wanted to touch you, to feel you skin, delicate and soft like a cloud, to taste your lips that were sweeter than any Celeastial Realm dessert.

He wanted you, and he wanted to make you his partner in crime, to tease Lucifer and his brothers, to make witty schemes and pranks together, to sneak around, to make fun, to dance, to laugh, to walk around, to have dates, to do so many things together.

Diavolo was so eager for your wedding together, and so were you, frankly.

You found safety and solace around him, something that you never thought would happen any time in your life, and now you realised why Lucifer was welcomed so nicely to his Kingdom - Because Diavolo wasn’t evil and merciless as the angels wanted her to believe, he was a benevolent ruler who only sought the good of his people and wanted all 3 Realms to be equal and be peaceful.

This didn’t sit well with the angels when you returned back to the Celestial Realm, as they could see you vibing with happiness, they could see your cheeks pink like the roses from the Garden of Eden, and more...Your heart...It was trembling with emotions.

You were in love with the Demon Prince.

You destroyed the allegiance without even realising, and the angels were furious with you for ruining all the centuries of trying to educate you properly, to make you become an obedient little wife.

You screwed up for falling in love with the man you were supposed to marry.

And now, you had to receive the Divine Retribution that few angels had the misfortune to deal with.

You were thrown out of Heaven.

You were let to fall down, from the Celestial Realm, to the Devildom, while all the other angels were throwing insults at you, for being a shame to God and your title as a Seraph, and that you deserve every bit of pain you will have to endure in the future.

Barbatos had already forseen this happening, so Diavolo was waiting for you to fall, so he would be there to catch you before you hit the ground, not wanting you to feel more pain that you must already endure.

Of course, as Lucifer had already gone through all this before, he was informed about the agony, the transformations and the changes in one’s body, but even so, he wasn’t prepared for how emotionally gut-wrenching the sight of the woman he loved so much, sobbing in pain, just because...

Just because she held the same emotions as he did for her.

It wasn’t fair.

Why should she have to suffer for loving someone, while he was safe and sound, not even feeling an ounce of physical pain, nor trauma?

He was holding you tightly to his chest, not even feeling anything while you were clawing at his back and arms from the pain, not able to think or speak coherently, as he could only watch your feathers and a pair of wings slowly burn, even the bone structure of it, while stumps of bone and keratin were protruding from underneath your scalp, getting bigger and bigger, and twisting around in intricate shapes, resembling that of some animal.

“This is not fair! This is not fair! Why...! I was raised to be your wife, but now that I want to, I’m being punished! Is it so immoral to have feelings? To love your Husband? Why is nothing I do ever good for anyone? Why can’t I ever be like the ones I admire so much? Am I really fated to waste away and rot like a caged bird forever?” you’d cry out, as Diavolo put your hands on his own horns, to tug on them, to make himself feel the same hatred, rage, agony, despair as you did, because you were bound by an unbreakable bond, wrapped with the string of fate, from heart to heart.

Diavolo felt powerless for the first time in his life, as there was nothing that could stop, or even lessen such pain - no medicine, beverage, food nor plant or drug - and he could only hold you and curse every living being for not being able to keep you safe from all this madness.

Since he was born a demon, he never had to endure any pain, but seeing you go through it all, it made him want to find some curse and curse himself, so all the pain you’d feel, he’d feel as well, just to punish himself for making you go through all this - Because he blames himself, even if he would never tell it to you, in fear of making you feel even worse.

He wasn’t sure how many days passed until your physical agony subsided and your wings were charcoal black, like a raven’s, and your horns were fully out, but he knew that the worst wasn’t over yet.

Every day, he had to hold you and reassure you that he’ll never leave you, and that he loves you and he would never give you up, just because you are not a Seraph anymore - Your beauty was as ethereal as always, no matter what.

He had Barbatos make sure you bring you food to help you get used to the Devildom cuisine, without purging, because your body wasn’t used to bats and poisoned apples, but to cloud cakes and paradise fruit.

He would hold you tight every night, allowing himself barely a wink of sleep, as he felt it his duty to guard over you while you slept, so you wouldn’t be plagued by night terrors, even going as far as casting spells to help you sleep better, not even sure if they worked or not.

He would get you all sorts of clothes and jewellery, showing you off to everyone as soon as you were ready to step out of your shared room, because you were the most beautiful being alive, and nothing was going to erase that fact - And neither should you ever forget it.

Because Diavolo loved you with all his heart, and was waiting patiently for the day when you’d be able to get fully accustomed to your new life as a demon - But not any demon, but THE Demon Queen - so he could start preparing the Wedding, with you by his side, letting Asmo to style your hair, do your make up and style your wedding dress, making sure it matches with some colour with Diavolo’s suit too, while you two and the brothers, mainly Satan and Belphie, would choose how to decorate the wedding venue, the Ballroom, and Levi would help with the music, while Mammon would provide entertainment and Beel would be in charge of the menu.

And Lucifer would be the one to walk you down the isle, as he was the one you looked up to for so long and gave you the courage to aspire for freedom.

You were finally where you belonged, and you were happy, with the one person you loved with all your heart, and went through so many hardships for, and you had nothing more to fear any longer, because nobody would be as stupid as to go against the rules of THE Demon King just to harm you.

Especially not while he always had his arms and wings wrapped protectively around you.

#obey me diavolo x reader #obey me diavolo x seraph #obey me diavolo #obey me diavolo imagine #obey me diavolo x angel #fallen angel #fallen #diavolo #obey me #obey me x reader #obey me imagine #diavolo x reader #diavolo imagine #angel x demon

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funkymbtifiction · 3 years

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Thanks a lot for answering! I wonder could you please give examples of everyday deeds/types of behavior of different primaries and secondaries? Like what are they like when there's a school test or when they need to visit a doctor? The more the better. Something more down-to-earth than the situations from the fantasy movies listed on the website that may never take place in the real world, something found in everyday life that will help someone identify themselves and mb others around them

I’m not sure I can do that, because frankly, your Primary House is a state of mind. It’s what you want and how you feel about things (or do not feel, in the case of Ravenclaws, ahem). But I can talk about a few things, particularly in response to Harry Potter, that can shed light on the state of mind of the Primary.

What I have most noticed about people in general is that we all have a built-in bias, and in order to find our true type—whether that is our MBTI type, our Enneagram core and tritype, or our Hogwarts House combination—we must abandon our ego defenses. What does that mean? We have to overcome our biases and want to know our true self, and own it, more than we want to fight against an answer that might not please us. In the Enneagram, I’ve noticed particular biases against being a 2 or a 6. Everyone wants to be the more “glamorous” 4 or the elusive, bookworm 5.

Harry Potter, for better or worse, introduced us to the concept of Hogwarts Houses, but also introduced us to a bias, because it made Gryffindor the most glamorous House, due to all the main characters (however unrealistically) hailing from that House. Or, at least, all the main characters we like. Ravenclaw is full of wise weirdos like Luna Lovegood, who irrationally believes in things no one can prove. Slytherin is host to mostly back-stabbing, snobbish cheaters. And Hufflepuff is an “afterthought” where all “the boring, nice people are.”

What I like about Sorting Hat Chats is… they made the entire system more interesting and a lot fairer. Now, Slytherin isn’t the only House with villains automatically placed in it: their villains have to be specific in their love (and not betray their family, because it is the house of My Family is My Life). This also means people, fictional or real, who prioritize their loved ones, are Slytherins. Such as Mr. Darcy, or Katniss Everdeen. Suddenly, being a Slytherin doesn’t seem so bad, right? Not if you are loyal to the ones you love! That alone will appeal to the mindset of a Slytherin, because they will think, “Of COURSE I am. Of COURSE my loved ones come first! They SHOULD!”

I have friends in all four Primary Houses, but I will use myself as an example of the Ravenclaw. When I was reading the books, having all the main characters in Gryffindor bothered me, because not only did it show a bias, but I felt some of the main characters ‘belonged’ in other Houses—such as Remus Lupin being a Hufflepuff rather than a Gryffindor. I also felt like Hermione belonged in Ravenclaw. But that is neither here nor there… my objections to the system came from the logical flaws in how she arranged it. It wasn’t realistic to have everyone ‘important’ or ‘admirable’ within the story come from Gryffindor. It was easier to have them share Common Rooms, but people don’t isolate like that and only befriend someone from their House. They look for like-minded friends who share interests, and would make them all over the place. It was my little Ravenclaw brain, pulling away at her system and finding flaws in its logic, but reacting from a place of logical reasoning rather than moral indignation.

When I took the SHC test, it placed me in Slytherin. And I was not opposed to that. In fact, I explored it for a long time, as I thought about how I respond in various situations. Slytherin appealed to me, because… I wish I could stand up for my family automatically. I wish I could prioritize my loved ones all the time. But I kept hitting upon the fact that – I like to think about things in a detached manner, and come to what I feel is a rational consensus. It’s more clinical and less emotional than Slytherins are—and it helped at the time that I knew a Slytherin, and could easily see both how possessive she was of people (they are “mine to protect” – she always reminded me of Slytherin Sam Gamgee in The Lord of the Rings, with his “MY MR. FRODO”) and how, without fail, her sister came before even me, her best friend. Through comparison, I knew I had to be something else. So in typical Ravenclaw fashion, I went through and considered them all. Because, as a Ravenclaw, I want to be RIGHT more than protect my ego. I am always looking for the truth, even when it hurts. And I am always measuring the world against an ideal in my head, built up of my belief system. I do not go against my beliefs; I mold myself to them. And it shocks me to find others who do not, but who claim to be the same as I am. I take, for example, my Christian faith seriously—so what do you mean you are ignoring what your faith says, and doing whatever you want??? YOU MOLD TO YOUR BELIEFS, DON’T YOU? Well, yes, if you are a Ravenclaw, you do. If you are any other House, you do not.

The Hufflepuff Primary I know has a far more ‘felt’ opinion of the books and their sorting system. She got livid reading them, and thinking about how constantly unfair it all was, how biased Rowling was, and how Dumbledore was clearly playing favorites constantly with Gryffindor House. She developed a bad attitude about him as a result… which, of course, is coming from her being a Hufflepuff. To a Hufflepuff, people come first. They are all treated fairly and seen as equals. You do not discriminate, you do not alienate, you do not give unfair favors to Harry and his friends, just so Gryffindor can win the House Cup over and over again. She was actually so angry about this, from a Hufflepuff perspective, that she was willing to be a Slytherin in defiance of ‘The System’ until she realized that kind of mindset is… pure Hufflepuff. “You are not being fair about this, I will oppose you.” It’s all instinctual, it’s all emotional, and it’s all loyalty to the human race, which includes Slytherins. (This caused us some friction for awhile, until I realized it was “just a Hufflepuff” objection, because... how can you be mad at Dumbledore for that? It’s just a convenient plot device in the book! ... says the Ravenclaw who isn’t getting too emotionally involved. ;)

The Slytherin I know, by the way, denied being a Slytherin at first, because she felt ashamed of it. She has been taught to act like a Hufflepuff, that she SHOULD care about everyone all the time, but… she does not. She cares about her loved ones the most, and she would protect them above other people, every time. I pointed out to her that Hufflepuff fits her less than Slytherin, because “You ARE Katniss. You told me that once. That you identified so heavily with her, because you would go into the arena for your Prim.” And then she admitted it, and saw the gloriousness that is being a loyal Slytherin.

The Gryffindor I know is always looking for a Cause, and… as a Ravenclaw, I find that exhausting. She wants to be mad about things, because that anger gives her the fire she needs to do something about it. She has taken on big Causes by financially supporting the Causes she cares about, and done physical things about smaller Causes. For example, as a teenager, she came upon three guys tormenting a dog. It made her so livid, she charged straight at them, swearing and screaming at them to leave the animal alone, and it scared them all so much, they turned tail and ran. She just knew it was the right thing to do, and she and I often butt heads a lot, because she expects everyone else (meaning me) to be as passionate as she is about doing the ‘right thing.’ My more detached “well, let’s look at both sides of this issue” has no place in her black and white Gryffindor mind (no, that is WRONG).

Secondary Houses are… something that may take a little more time to figure out, as you think about how you handle the ‘unexpected.’

Gryffindors… have to speak up if they see an injustice, or hear something they disagree with. They are they person who cannot keep their mouth shut, they need to voice their opinion. They don’t care if you don’t like it or don’t agree, to not state their views would be antagonistic to their central self. My Hufflepuff friend is a Gryffindor Secondary. Not only did she get mad about the biases in Harry Potter, she complained loudly about it, to me, and to other people, and even in a blog post, because the injustice of it needed drawn-attention to, and dealt with, and she doesn’t really care if you disagree. That’s just how she rolls, about EVERYTHING. Because Gryffindor Secondaries state their views. They see an injustice, and they rush toward it. (My Gryffindor friend is also a Gryffindor Secondary: see dog being abused, rush in to do something about it!)

Ravenclaws… want to prepare for everything, and then rely on their own skill set to handle problems as they arise. They are the person who, when their bike breaks down halfway home, consider what they know about bikes (can they fix this easily?), and what they know about public transportation (am I going to be able to catch a bus home?), and make decisions from there. Or who study for a test in advance and show up, only to panic because they found out they read the wrong chapter in the book and know nothing about it. My father is a Gryffindor with a Ravenclaw Secondary, and he over-prepares himself with any useful knowledge he thinks he might need to combat a wide variety of situations—and then is stumped if confronted by something he did not prepare for, and knows nothing about. He is always trying to think ahead and prepare so that he doesn’t have to improvise anything at the last second—because he sucks at it.

It was a comparison with him that actually shifted me away from assuming I had a Ravenclaw Secondary, because… I don’t suck at improvising. I’m actually quite good at it. And I don’t over-prepare, because in true Hufflepuff Secondary position, I figure I can ask someone for help. And they always give it to me. But what really cemented the deal for me, in terms of recognizing my Puff Secondary House, were two—no, make that three, truths from my life. 1) Ravenpuffs distill complex information and put it back out into the world for others to enjoy (hello, Funky!). 2) Puff Secondaries show up and do the tireless work, clock the hours, and are highly reliable, which is… me. I have run this site day in and day out for years. I am punctual, fastidious, I put my responsibilities ahead of all else (even turning down fun occasions because I need to work), and I will painstakingly work on perfecting something, finishing something, improving something, or polishing something (even when I’m bored). In short, I show up and do the work. And 3) the truth that Puff Secondaries have friends to stand up for them, because they have proven themselves reliable and trustworthy, is no joke. A few years ago, I had trouble with someone online and, without being asked, three of our mutual friends came to my defense. Proof of the Puff.

Lastly, Slytherin Secondaries are highly adaptable. It’s no problem for them to shift their approach given the needs of the situation. It’s the equivalent of a friend you admire, but who puzzles you (if you don’t share their Slytherin Secondary trait) because… it seems like they are a different person everywhere you go, because whatever is needed, they can become it. They are the person who has no trouble with change and no need to plan, because they just trust that it’s all going to work out fine, based on their ability to adapt. It’s the person who shows up at a friend’s birthday party expecting it to be formal, finds out it’s casual, sneaks into the bathroom to rearrange their attire, and emerges ready to play Twister. Or who will be serious with you, joke constantly with your brother, and behave like a saint around your mom, according to whatever works and appeals to you the best.

Hope some of that helps, though it wasn’t explicitly what you asked for. Best this ENFP can do, since in-depth sensory specific examples require a heck of a lot more Si than I’ve got. :P

#question #hogwarts houses #ravenclaw #gryffindor #slytherin #hufflepuff #submission

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okurrroye · 3 years

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Ok all I wanted was to laugh about John getting curb stomped but the Ayo tag is a fucking nightmare like wow

Disclaimer I have shit memory so if I say something that doesn’t add up fact wise let me know. But I’m pissed off so here we go-

(FYI all of your opinions should be kept to yourself, so don’t comment if you fail to read my entire post so thanks)

I know this has been discussed, but there are things that have been left out of the argument, or hasn’t even been considered when it comes to the big I speak no I see no I hear no evil scene y’all making it out to be of Ayo disarming Bucky. So gather around here’s the part where you hear me out without scrolling off regardless of your stance on the situation, because I’m here for all opinions afterwards.

First off I can’t even understand why this is controversial at all considering the history that led to this moment. Oh wait I lied it’s literally because either you have your head to far up Bucky’s ass or because he’s a man or because he’s white, or because *ding ding ding * all of the above. And now you’re mad because how dare this black bitch have the nerve-the audacity to do that to poor little old Bucky (now insert the part where you either scroll off, or put your two unwanted cents in before I finish). And this is where you all want to use the empty ass belief that ThE aRm Is A gIfT, or empty ass excuse tHaT’s HiS aRm. Also someone else pointed out well if they didn’t trust him than they shouldn’t have given it to him in the first place. Which yes all are true, but also not at the same time. *Gasp* yes somethings can not be one or other, because ✨ grey area ✨.

Now I don’t know what world you’re living in where you think a gift can not be taken back, and I use the term gift loosely because you can’t even call it that honestly. Because in reality the whole reason he has the arm in the first place is because he needed a new one for infinity war like duh, why have crap heap that’s easily damageable when they can make an indestructible one, to live or not to live like it’s not a hard choice. Then he disappeared for five years so it would be kinda difficult to get an arm back that doesn’t exist anymore. But by the time everyone came back I think an arm was at the bottom of their to do list, or not to mention the fact well it’s already been made, and you probably don’t know how to properly function without both arms yet and can’t afford a normal one yourself so why not just keep it instead of wasting all the time, effort, and resources of making it, but idk I guess that’s a stretch. But since people likes using the gift excuse guess what, a gift is just something you couldn’t afford to do yourself so someone else was kind enough to do it for you (^^^), but in every other since of the word it really belongs to them not you. So let’s give an example shall we, now your parent(s) gave you something you wanted (shit someone else may have bought it for you) but you fucked around and got in trouble and now you’re grounded. Now depending on your parent(s) you’ll either get your ass beat or your shit will get confiscated, or both if you fuck up enough. Now do you think you have any right to say what they can or can’t do? -Yeah I didn’t think so and if you thought otherwise well here comes round two of another ass whopping or the first one if you’re lucky. Or on rare occasions some (white) kids don’t get physically disciplined, but you’re still going to pay the price regardless.

So same situation (yes I know I can’t compare an amputees arm to an object, but I only say that because Bucky is more than that, more than just a arm) but also very much not because in Bucky’s and Ayo’s situation it is much-MUCH worse obviously, but apparently it’s not obvious considering that there’s a debate in the first place. Or in other words you think Bucky’s feelings-FEELINGS are more important then Ayo’s and Wakanda the truth. Which is you’re lucky that it was only his feelings that got hurt, because she (and Yama) could have killed him and everyone else in that room easily so let’s all thank Ayo (and Yama) for her kindness and mercy first and foremost, also for not taking back both the arm and the shield completely. Because that arm and shield is Wakandan property ok so let’s get that straight, so she had every right to take it if she wanted to-whenever or wherever (which also falls into the part where the Dora does has jurisdiction there, and almost anywhere else since most likely every country wants or have vibranium now, and because Wakanda could literally flatten the whole world so yeah they’re going to have a legal pass because who’s gonna want to fuck with them) but she didn’t key word didn’t which should’ve been a clue they would never take the arm or shield back because he is disabled considering even after what Bucky (& John) did.

Not only is it the property of Wakanda but it’s from the only place that was willing, and did help Bucky in every way a person could be helped literally saving this man physically, mentally, and emotionally- like please. Specifically the royal family themselves firsthand which need I remind you is related to the former King that was killed by the man that Bucky escaped from prison without discussing it with them first. That same King, family, and country that Ayo is from, loves, and is to serve and protect. That she will-IS sacrificing and dedicates her life to...she failed them all-failed herself when T’Chaka was murdered like bruh- like that should speak for it self like that is the ultimate betrayal like he literally spat in their fucking face, especially Ayo’s considering she’s the one who gave Bucky back his mind, his freedom and after all that after everything they did for him they still didn’t trust him, and betrayed him by not telling him he had a fail safe in his arm?! Yeah-no big sike, anyone with a brain knows prosthetics because here’s the real kicker ITS NOT HIS ARM thus it’s O M G...removable. Yes you read that correctly r-e-m-o-v-a-b-l-e. Now put that together with the fact that Ayo is highly skilled and an overall badass I don’t think it would be that hard for her to fucking figure out how to dislocate it with a few pressure points considering that’s literally the whole point of striking a pressure point (if he still had his arm then that hit would’ve stopped it from working, but since it’s fake that mf popped right off). Pressure points are used to disable someone, thus Ayo disabling a disabled by disarming his arm to deescalate the situation go figure. It wasn’t a fail safe it’s just skill and common sense that everyone failed to have in the moment and used as a last resort because oh no Bucky’s face, like boo fucking hoo he did it to himself by breaking their trust first, and defending that bitch. Instead of him waiting for the Dora to have Zemo in custody first, what did Bucky do instead? He had the fucking audacity (and that’s how you use the word) to use that same arm against Ayo, against Wakanda. That speaks volumes considering out of respect as a friend or whatever close bond they have (because they definitely have a connection after what they went through together) Ayo still gave him a warning, and time to do what he had to do before they came for Zemo’s ass. Let it be known she didn’t have to do that at all because her loyalty is to and should be to her country first but in those eight hours it wasn’t, it was in the trust of their friendship so therefore she literally was endangering her well being by giving Bucky just that courtesy, and I don’t think you all consider her position in that predicament and thanks to Bucky she could’ve gotten her status revoked, thrown in jail, or worse killed for disobeying orders because let’s not forget Chadwick unfortunately has passed away, and thus it’s a fact that T’Challa is no longer in charge since Marvel will respect that with tampering with his character, so I don’t want to hear she would’ve been just fine because we’ve seen how the royal counsel has a big say on what goes and doesn’t go considering they did not give a single fuck about their own next of kin, Erik who has every right as them, but would have easily killed him just because he was an ‘outsider’ if T’Challa didn’t speak up for him (I mean they abandoned him while leaving him to fend for himself, killed his father and covered it up so wouldn’t put it past them). So if you think when Ayo fucked up again about retrieving Zemo because she trusted, and helped this outsider over her own kind she definitely would’ve been considered a traitor and be punished for her actions.

Can you imagine the hurt, and betrayal they felt? No apparently not, because it’s all about how he’s disabled and how could she take his arm (like uh she literally left it, and the shield for them to keep, and it’s not like he would’ve died without it to begin with unlike Bucky who was willing to sacrifice Ayo’s entire livelihood) when the fact that disabled people say constantly for others to stop putting their disabilities before them, and how they’re just as capable as everyone else. “They are a someone with a disability, not someone who is disabled,” which is absolutely true, because they’re more than that but everyone seems to forget that all of sudden when Ayo detaches Bucky’s arm (I wonder why) and all of sudden he doesn’t have control of his own body like what- he literally used his entire body nonbrainwashed to stab them in the back like miss me with that bs. Him spending five seconds without his arm doesn’t compare especially since they forgave him without even at least an apology at that.

Detaching his arm was a warning that he needed to learn, because they were letting him know, and I emphasize that that arm does not belong to him so how he dare try to use it against the people who gave it to him after they fed, housed, and freed him when no one else could, or would when he’s done nothing in return while as a repayment was being a fucking ingrate. All the while facing no consequences, not even the need for a fucking bandaid *mic drop*.

#and this is coming from someone who fucking loves bucky #and not to mention when ayo did remove his arm I had the same reaction as bucky did lol #like that shit hit me too ok but y’all are something else #I’m so sorry this came out longer then I expected #but like the racism in this fandom I just can’t #like it’s not that deep #but dumb asses and racists need a reality check #bucky barnes #ayo #wakanda #marvel mcu #the falcon and the winter soldier #captain america and the winter soldier tf #tfatws #caatws

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foxofthedesert · 4 years

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A brief RedQueen take on Hades/Persephone

For @loudestdork in response to this incredible post. It’s your fault I’m still up at 6 am.

Also, I haven’t even proofread this, so please blame any errors or general crappiness in quality on either mental fatigue or sleepless mania. :)

Slowly Regina rises from her chilly onyx throne. The flickering embers stirring back to life within her breast had compelled her to rise, and as they burst once more into flame, the line of silver candelabras begin to glow with an intensity that hurts her eyes. Darkness recedes as light suffuses the chamber, bathing her in warmth that steals her breath away.

Equal measures of excitement and dread war within soul, for within the hour she will leave this place for the surface.

Eyes slipping shut, she conjures up an image to quell her fears – it is one she often draws upon whenever the tenacious, insidious claws of despair dig into her psyche during the interminable, desolate months of spring and summer. Rich chestnut hair cascades in waves and curls over shapely shoulders and down a finely arched back. Pale skin lacking scar or blemish, smooth to the touch like the silk produced by Minerva's loom and sweet as honey to the taste, bared to her greedy hands and eyes. Sea green irises merry with youth and vitality and unbridled curiosity that will burn a brilliant amber when angered or aroused and fade into sickly blue while in the throes of anguish. A frame to rival Diana; a visage more comely than Venus; and a smile and laugh even brighter than those of Apollo and Laetitia that alone is capable of banishing the perpetual gloom that drapes the realm of the dead in a curtain of despair; all belonging to the only person in all of existence that truly matters to Regina anymore.

Soon, so very soon, a voice more beautiful than any of the nine Muses will caress her longing ears. She recalls in vivid detail how it sounded upon the first such reunion.

“Oh! How dreary you have allowed our home to become in my absence,” Ruby (for that is the chosen name of Regina’s beloved) had trilled, an effective chastisement delivered in tones so affectionate and gentle that even the Goddess of the Dead cannot summon a word to speak in her own defense. “I shall spend a week at the very least removing cobwebs and dust, no to mention relocating all of the industrious little creatures that have taken up residence in the shadows. Really, love, why must you continually refuse to utilize the resources at your disposal? Sydney is a splendid caretaker, if not an incorrigible gossip, and Maleficent a wise and capable counselor. How many times must I come back home to an unfit abode before you take my suggestions to heart? Honestly, your continued stubbornness on this issue is most disappointing!”

“Bah! Due caution would appear as stubbornness to your disgustingly naive notion that redemption is possible for those whose misdeeds are as numerous and grievous as mine,” Regina had replied, nose curling in rebellious distaste at any suggestion she be so lazy – or efficient depending upon perspectives not her own clearly superior one – delegate the tasks laid upon her by laws more ancient than her fellow deities or the beastly titans who birthed them.

Oh how Ruby had bristled at that well-aimed dart. “Your sarcasm is not appreciated. Nor is your conclusion. I do not believe it is naive to hope for those who have made mistakes so long as they are capable of remorse. I would not be here otherwise.”

“Perhaps that is your great error. You have blinded yourself with optimism to the truth that I am indeed beyond hope and have doomed yourself to an eternity of sorrow by consequence.”

Regina knows how best to hurt with her words. The skill is, according to her peers, the one most responsible for her being an outcast. Her sister had offered an olive branch after their cataclysmic war, but she had refused it in a caustic speech that is recited in worshipful devotion by her Terran acolytes to this day.

Words are a weapon to be used with precision, their mother had taught them as youths just blooming into their cosmic powers, for they are every bit as devastating as fire or lightning.

When she was banished from Olympos and cast into Dīs upon a searing bolt a lightning, Regina was robbed of her fire. But they could not take her words, and she has used them ever since in both condemnation and reward to pass judgment upon those who arrive upon her shores. That Ruby is too commonly a target for her verbal pila is a stain upon her conscience that irritates her far more than it should considering who she is and what she has done.

Life would be much simpler the six months per annum they are together if she could learn to hold her barbed tongue in check, but Regina has never been one for simple. And so they are often at odds over the banal. They will quarrel over contentious adjudications. They will spend hours in mutually stubborn silence while offended or emotionally injured. They will disagree on meals, spar over Olympian philosophy and art and politics, and speak to one another in outbursts of raw angry passion wielding razor sharp phrases which leave wounds so deep as to be nearly visible.

But there is also love between them. Immeasurable love. Love that time and distance cannot erase when they are forced apart for half the year. Love that is blind to faults and annoyances, that weathers storms of rage and frustration and misunderstanding, and that forgives trespasses and inspires self-improvement however glacially incremental. A love that twines their immortal essences together so tightly that they share a dreamscape while sleeping, and that they have no use for repose is of no consequence when the aching of loneliness or separation becomes unbearable.

It is that boundless, magical, incomprehensible love which revived Regina’s moribund heart and made her start to care again. For that reason she is grateful beyond description on most days and on her worst regretful she ever laid eyes upon the gorgeous creature who single-handedly turned her entire world upside down.

“If I am blind to love you, then may I never see again,” Ruby had said, those enchanting eyes glimmering so brightly in the faint light that the individual strands of her irises were visible. “And if this is to be my doom as you say, then I accept it with open arms, for it shall be one of bountiful joy. The only sorrow for me will come when we are again forced to part. I spent the past six months yearning for you just as I shall the next six when our bell proclaims the arrival of spring.”

“Well, if not blind then you are certainly foolish,” Regina said, throat choked with so much feeling that she felt as though she might suffocate.

Ruby had merely smiled in that way only she could, playful and loving and sincere all at once. “I am guilty as charged of being a fool, my Queen. Your fool.”

Unable to help herself, Regina felt her lips curl up at the edges. “Well, we cannot all be perfect. Not even the celebrated daughter of Ceres Eugenia, it appears.” So as to change the reverse of their conversation back toward less emotionally distressful directions, she had cleared her throat and then returned to the original topic. “As for your so-called suggestion: it is, quite frankly, absurd. One of the two miserable wretches you mentioned earlier is a driveling sycophant while the other is a maudlin dragoness whose fits of fire-breathing mania lead me question my decision to retain her. No doubt they both would abuse such positions to undermine my authority. Prudence would dictate that I should cast them both into Tartarus and be done with their annoyances!”

Ruby’s gasp of affront was so dramatic that it echoed through the cavernous chamber and caused the nearest candle flames to flicker.

“Morta Plutonia Regina! One of these days I will finally teach you how to be nice to those in your charge, especially those who would call you their friend.”

Regina winced as she always does at her given name and returned the favor in kind with as much snark as she possibly could.

“I need no friends, Proserpina Libera,” she said. “I have the dead to keep me company.”

The story of their first meeting, and incidentally how Proserpina Libera became Ruby, then begins to play through Regina’s mind. Before long, she becomes so lost in the memory that time ceases to have any meaning whatsoever.

Her musings last until a ghostly bell rings in the distance. She emerges from wistful recollection to mournful chiming accompanied by plaintive voices singing an announcement that summer has ended and autumn has begun.

Once, there was no bell to quarterly drone and chant in languid harmony with the turning of seasons. Once, she was painfully alone amongst a swelling sea of souls thrust cruelly into her charge. Once, she was content to nurse her hatred of her elder sibling and ruler of Olympos whose envious betrayal resulted in Regina’s current circumstance, and she had bent that hatred and bitterness toward piling ever-more layers of jagged ice upon the impenetrable fortress that was her irreparably damaged heart. Once, there had been no evidence of life at all in this place that she called home save the frost of her breath and tortured moaning of the damned that plagued her every waking hour. Once, she had believed herself incapable of love and took great comfort in that belief.

But that was before her beloved rosa rubra strolled through the forest she was traversing in secret, and left upon every inch of earth those bare feet trod over a carpet of lush red roses.

The surface back then felt much further away, too far for Regina’s overtaxed attention to be concerned with happenings above yet too near to ever escape hope of being freed from her endless confinement. The only reason she kept up with current events was to better evaluate the lives of those she was constrained by unbreakable law to judge. One day she learned of a scandal detailing how her sister had become impregnated by a mortal man through spurious means and birthed a daughter who was a gifted huntress that won the heart of a princess. Knowing that her unforgivably wicked sibling Zelena would be unable to resist interfering, she arranged a brief excursion to terra firma. It had taken countless hours of planning and work, but she had managed to slip through an isolated section of the great Gates of Dīs while Cerberus was distracted (the brutish if not mildly adorable mongrel had still been hopelessly under the thrall of her sister, an enchantment that Ruby was blessedly able to break) and emerge in the land of the living for the first time in millennia.

At first Regina had been unable to do much more than marvel at the scenery. For thousands of years she had been trapped in a world of darkness that smelled and sounded and felt like death. But the world above was teeming with life, even the air smelled as though it were animate, and the overload of so much sensory input had nearly paralyzed her. Once she recovered, she began picking her way through the forest by foot as using her powers to travel would have alerted the Olympians that she was no longer present at her station.

About halfway through the journey, she was stopped cold by the sound of singing. That angelic verse was carried upon the wings of a gentle breeze straight through the mountainous walls of ice surrounding her heart. In moments so swift she was helpless to react, she physically felt her defenses shatter and her resolve to remain aloof from all emotion crumble. A single verse of that song had accomplished what the assembled armies of Olympos could not upon the bloody plains of Thessaly, a verse that she would eventually decree be recited each year by siren spirits upon the autumnal equinox. She was so mesmerized by the soft melodic quality of the singer’s voice that she would not know the rest of the song until Ruby performed it much later.

Recklessly, like a starving lion desperately trailing its only hope for survival, Regina followed the song to the edge of a tiny clearing. And then Regina saw her. In the midst, haloed by Apollo’s rays, she danced and sang as birds joined in with the melody and branches swayed hypnotically to the rhythm. Clad in a flowing crimson-trimmed dress, draped by a lavish red cloak, crowned by a wreath of fresh flowers with roses crawling up her bare arms; her expression open in untold wonderment, cheeks ruddy with the exhilaration of living; she was – and still is – the very epitome of beauty, and grace, and charm, and hope, and joy. Save for the wedding night, no sight before or since has ever rivaled that first glimpse of embodied perfection.

A deafening rumble shakes the cavernous hall as the earth above lazily yawns as if arising from a seasonal slumber, snatching Regina’s focus away from that first fateful meeting. From above, rubble rains down as mote and stone, and the prevailing sunlight filtering through the haze casts a diluted shadow across the hall.

She turns her eyes up, squinting to mitigate the intense pain of photo-sensitivity, and watches impassively as the detritus begins to mold itself into a great spiral staircase. One by one the steps arrange themselves, each uniform in shape and perfectly spaced out as she had commanded centuries ago via laborious incantation, until they have spanned from polished obsidian floors to vaulted granite ceiling.

With measured steps she ascends the newly formed stairway, her raven-down cloak billowing behind her. She holds her head high, proud and regale, as she ascends. Eager anticipation has caused her heart to thunder and her limbs to buzz with energy, but she is still a Queen. Always a Queen.

The afternoon sun hangs low on the horizon, her cousin having turned his attentions elsewhere in the world, and the air is crisp and clean. Death has yet to arrive in earnest, the foliage of the forest remains mostly verdant, but Regina can feel it approaching from every angle, a stooping, skulking specter whose insatiable hunger is gnawing to the point of agony. For a split second she falters, inundated by the cloying scent of nascent decay which beckons her to turn heel and descend into the realm where such monsters as herself belong.

And then she hears it, the introductory lines of a new song written solely for her:

My love, my love, to thee I call;

My love, the fairest of them all

With raven’s hair and silken skin.

I come at last to thee again!

As if an insect brushed away from one’s collar, death recedes into the back of her consciousness so that life can inhabit the space it has abandoned. Life that reverently whispers her name into the crook of her neck and the flesh of her shoulder, that holds her hand and brushes away the tears that began to fall again after infusing her with vitality she had never before experienced, and that loves her beyond any logical explanation and refuses to ever give up on her. Life that has a name, Ruby, and is currently waiting for her in meadow they both hold so dear.

Squaring her shoulders, Regina strides forward with renewed strength. She has a reunion to attend that she has been awaiting for six very long months. Until Ruby points it out, she will not even realize she is smiling.

#red queen ouat #regina mills #ruby lucas #regina x ruby #once upon a time #fanfic #a red queen take on hades and persephone

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purplesurveys · 3 years

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1159

survey by -egocentricity-

Describe the last time you...

Went swimming: It was in Nasugbu with Angela, Sofie, and Gab nearly a couple of years ago. We wanted to go to a nearby beach before the semester started, so we planned the trip at the last minute and literally just right after we enrolled for our classes.

Went on a date: It was at BGC at this nice, romantic French restaurant. Then as we headed back to the car we spotted a jazz bar that had a live band performing, so we took a detour there to have drinks and nachos.

Were hurt by someone you love: My mom says a lot of hurtful things all the time I’ve stopped keeping track of them and letting them affect me too much, but I’m sure she’s done it recently.

Did something nice for yourself: I got myself a night lamp to improve the ambience in my room and make it feel even more homey. The lamp I had before it was just something I borrowed from my parents and it had white light, so it didn’t feel the most calming. The one I have right now emits this soft yellow shade that makes me feel infinitely more relaxed.

Did something nice for someone else: I ordered KFC at like 1 AM last Wednesday because I was feeling hungry and there was nothing at home that could meet my cravings, and aside from getting orders for my parents I also got a Zinger for my delivery driver as a way to thank him and lift his spirits for working that late into the night.

Were injured: I always sport some sort of scratch or gash somewhere on my body these days from playing with Cooper. This morning I got a new wound on one of my knuckles since he was pulling on his leash way too hard when I was walking him.

Went to the hospital: I had to take blood and urine tests last May to figure out what was wrong with me since I had been sick for a week by that point. That was also during the peak of the pandemic, so there was a lot of anxiety about me catching Covid. It turned out to be a UTI, and even though that technically sucks the whole family was relieved it wasn’t Covid.

Understood something that previously confused you: I had my dad explain to me how buying and bidding for houses works. Hahaha I am sooooo not equipped to be a fully-functioning adult.

Faked sick to get out of going to class: I don’t think I ever did this. If I had wanted to skip class, I just skipped it.

Hung out with your friends: I went to Perfy’s with 7 friends shortly before it shut down for good as a result of the pandemic. We had some beer and bar chow, and to be completely frank it felt quite nice to have that one night where things felt normal again, as ignorant as it was. We vaped until we were dizzy and some of them smoked too much that the smell ended up clinging to me and my clothes, but luckily I got home when my whole family was already in their rooms so no one was able to smell me.

Met someone new: There’s this girl who recently got onboarded to one of our client brands and we started working with her about a week or two ago. She’s honestly been a bit over the place, but I’m giving her the benefit of the doubt because she’s fairly new at a particularly hectic time in her workplace. My first impression of her was that she gave such a strong UP vibe so I looked her up on Facebook, and it turns out we went to the same college and the same high school.

Did something that you were afraid to do: A couple of months ago I had a one-on-one video call organized by the CEO of my employer so that she could get to know me better. She was super nice and listened attentively to my answers to all her questions, but it was easy to tell she wanted to see what I could bring to the table and how well I could mesh with the team especially since I’ve never met her and everyone else in person, so I made sure my social game was maxed out for those 15 minutes haha.

Did something you promised you would never do: I vaped literally half an hour ago. I never expected to form a habit out of it especially after being vehemently against any form of smoking for most of my life. Not particularly proud of it but then again I’m here for a good time and not a long time lmao.

Regretted something: Lazada had this huge app-wide sale last week and their Hydro Flasks were like ₱600 cheaper, but I didn’t buy it because I was feeling stingy that day haha. Now the products are back to their normal price and they’ll probably never get to be that cheap again :( There’s another sale happening tomorrow but the discounts aren’t as big, but I’ll probably place an order this time.

Went shopping: I went to H&M last January to get Andi a late Christmas present. I asked Leigh what they would appreciate as a gift, and she told me they’d wanted to start experimenting with feminine clothes so I got them a nice black skirt and this really elegant dress (that I honestly wanted for myself). I heard they cried once they opened the paper bag, and making people cry with the gifts you get them will always be one of the best feelings ever haha.

Asked someone out/were asked out: Idk, it was 5 years ago and nothing I want to remember anymore.

Broke up with someone: I’ve never broken up with someone.

Had someone break up with you: It was terrible and the stuff of all my nightmares combined, and it happened in the middle of an already-shitty month to boot so I had little hope for myself to come out of it alive. I had everything planned and ironed out and all that was left was for me to leave.

It’s been 7 months and I’ve never felt emotionally and mentally better and healthier.

Were heartbroken: I follow this animal rescue NGO on Facebook and they regularly post about dogs who’ve lived through awful situations and need urgent care and forever homes to live in. Fortunately the page has a wide reach and regularly gets support, and I try to donate to their bank account as often as I can.

You were angry with someone: Haven’t directed my anger towards anyone in a while.

You felt "in love" with someone: It was during the time I was still reeling over the breakup and was caught in an endless loop of still being in love with them and forcing myself to finally detach.

You wanted something unrealistic: I was at the rooftop this morning and I could feel the temperature getting warmer every hour, and when I finally couldn’t tolerate the heat and was forced to go back indoors I felt super annoyed because all I want is to live somewhere with a chilly climate all-year round hahaha UGH

You made someone angry: It was when I spilled a tiny drop of soup onto the dining table and my mom had a complete meltdown about it. After 89457843957 years of her getting mad at First World Problems I wasn’t intimidated by her anymore, but it still irked me at how something so little can piss her off so I just decided not to speak a word for the rest of the night.

You made someone's day: I hope I made my delivery driver’s night when I got him his burger as a surprise. I hold so much respect and appreciation for them considering they’ve been working very hard to get people’s goods to their doorsteps in the midst of a global pandemic.

Tried something new: When I bought my lamp it was the first time I got something to decorate my room. I usually spend all my money on food, so that was a nice change to try out.

Tried your best: I always try my best at work and to make each day more improved than the last.

Didn't try at all: A couple of nights ago I asked my dad to light up my scented candle and he challenged me to try lighting up a matchstick by myself for once. I was all primed and ready to go, but backed out at the last second :(( I told him there was a big chance I could freak out, drop the lit matchstick. and set something in the dining room (where we were) on fire, and that’s when he gave up and just lit it up himself hahaha

Got nothing for your efforts: I’d gladly refer you to my big waste of a 6-year relationship.

Had a serious talk with someone: I always have deep conversations with Andi and they’ve been about various topics over the last few months.

Told someone how you really feel: It was when Bea scheduled a quick one-on-one catch-up call with me to check up on how I was doing with work and if I was doing okay with the everyday craziness of it all. But I didn’t say anything grave; I just told her I honestly like the work we do and that it’s nice that it keeps me excited everyday, so there’s little to complain about.

Hid what you felt from someone: One of my co-workers, Denise, is honestly a little challenging to work with. I always have to pick up after her and remind her of stuff we need to do together, and even Bea has let a few comments slide between us about how difficult she can be. But considering I’m a lot newer than her and we’ve never met each other I’ve stayed quiet for now.

Took something that didn't belong to you: I got the matchbox from my parents’ room to ask one of them to light up the aforementioned scented candle I have.

Borrowed something from someone: I borrowed one of my sister’s cords the other evening to charge my vape pen.

Lost a game: This was when my orgmates and I played a couple Jeopardy games over Zoom about a month ago and I lost to Robin.

Won a game: Not sure, I don’t really play a lot of games.

Told someone you love him/her: Jo, after she shared that she tested positive for Covid.

Went on vacation: It’s been a year and a half and the world has changed a lot since then, but my family and I went to Tagaytay and Cavite for a quick weekend getaway; it was Tagaytay on Saturday then we drove to another hotel in Cavite the next day. We played Heads Up, ate Jelly Belly jellybeans, had a lot of nice food, took some walks, but then I also had to work on a Powerpoint in between because I had a presentation that was due that Monday lol.

Went on a roadtrip: Last January we drove to Tagaytay (again) for my dad’s 50th birthday. Before heading to our accommodation we had brunch at La Creperie where we happened to be seated beside Larry Gadon – bleck – and his wife. Then we headed to the condo unit where we stayed the night at, ordered a samgyupsal set, and I watched GMM’s Let’s Talk About That into the night until I fell asleep.

Flew on a plane: That would be over two years ago and it was during our vacation to Bicol. That also marks the last time I ever spoke a word to my brother, because on our way home my family got into a heated argument and he ended up slapping me in the face. I don’t tolerate physical acts of violence, and especially not from someone younger than me, so I was more than glad to cut ties with him moving forward.

Were annoyed with a family member: My mom is politically incorrect 24/7, and it grinds my gears 24/7.

Took something too far: Idk, maybe cutting off ties with Gab. A part of me wanted to reconnect at some point, once I’ve healed; but I’ve reached a point in my life where that doesn’t seem so necessary anymore. Life just works funnily sometimes, I guess. I haven’t completely cut her off; we’re still mutuals on Twitter (though she also never uses it so it barely counts), and also still Facebook friends (though I’ve unfollowed her and I’ve also blacklisted her from seeing my posts – thank god for that feature), so now it’s really just a matter of pressing some buttons and finally disconnecting for good.

Gave up too soon: I wanted to learn riding a bike during the early days of the pandemic last year, but I gave up after like two days of being unsuccessful.

Listened to a band you had not heard before: I started exploring some of BTS’ music earlier this week after weeks of just knowing Dynamite.

Judged someone: Some of the bloggers that I regularly correspond with for work, and who’ve recently added me on Facebook, have opinions I don’t necessarily agree with.

Asked a "stupid question": I ask a lot of newbie questions at work that maybe some people would consider dumb, but I’d rather get answers to do my work correctly than take guesses and end up doing the wrong thing.

Got "a stupid answer": Not sure.

Took a picture of something/someone: I recently took a photo of my work desk setup so I could show off my new pretty lamp, hahaha.

Told a lie: I told my mom my Hydro Flask is still with Angela and that I should be getting it soon, but I really lost it a few years ago and would have to buy a new one.

Told the truth: Idk I tell the truth all the time.

#survey #surveys

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imaginedanganronpa · 5 years

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NDRV3 Boys Finding Out That Their Fem!S/O Cross-Dresses & is a Host Club Member!

The Requester sent this in through my Submit Box instead of my Ask, so I had to write this as its own separate post. Anyway, I love Ouran High-school Host Club so I’m absolutely living for this Request, I hope you like it! For @sketchscribble

Saihara Shuichi

As long as you’re dating Saihara, you find it difficult to keep secrets, even just little white lies. Granted, he is a highly skilled Detective so it doesn’t take him long to put the pieces together.

He could easily tell by the way you’ve been acting whenever you talked about the clubs you were involved in and why you stayed so late after school almost every day that something was up; Saihara knew that you were hiding something, but let’s face it – he’s also an emotionally charged man whose feelings can get the best of him at times.

Saihara took it the wrong way at first and feared that you might be seeing someone else, so he took it upon himself to snoop through your things. Normally, he would respect his partner’s privacy, but he couldn’t seem to shake this sneaking suspicion that started to consume him.

He was completely shocked when he uncovered men’s clothing in your room. Saihara nervously paced around the house, impatiently waiting for you to arrive home and his mind racing with thoughts of how he was possibly going to bring this up to you.

You arrived home and went to greet your boyfriend with a sweet kiss, but he frowned and turned his face away at the last second. Raising a brow, you ask him what was wrong and he started to groan. “Oh, don’t act like you don’t know, (Y/N)!” He exclaims, causing you to question him. You follow him back into your bedroom where he points out the clothes you’ve been hiding in the back of your closet.

Your face immediately turned white – you’d been meaning to tell him about your club for a while now but didn’t exactly know how; it seems as though Saihara beat you to the punch. You frantically start shoving them back into your closet, insisting that you could explain, and your boyfriend waited with crossed arms whilst tapping his foot, curious as to how you were going to save yourself.

“Listen, Shuichi,” you say with a sigh, “I’m… a Host. I work for the Host Club at my school, and, well, I have to cross-dress for it, y’know...”

Saihara’s face was now just as pale as yours. His eyes widened and his frown formed into a surprised jaw-dropping expression, a sinking feeling in his stomach made him feel sick. He knew he shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions and felt bad for accusing you of something more scandalous.

The Detective had plenty of questions about you flirting with other girls, though, but you insisted that there weren’t any feelings for them. It was just simple fun and something you enjoyed doing - plus, most of the other Hosts were your classmates and friends.

Saihara was quite insecure at first and it took him a long time to get comfortable with the thought of you flirting with others and pretending to be someone you’re not. His insecurities flared and he worried that you might find someone you like more than him, so you drag him to one of your meetings just so he can observe and see that it’s strictly business.

After awhile, he gets more comfortable with your club. All Saihara wants is for you to be happy, and if this is what accomplishes that goal then he has no reason to not support you. The Detective has unconditional love for you, after all, and he enjoys hearing all the stories you have about your beloved club.

Ouma Kokichi

You weren’t entirely sure how you were possibly going to break the news to your boyfriend – you haven’t been dating for too terribly long, but this was a big part of your life that you couldn’t easily hide, especially from Ouma. He had a special ability to pick up on when someone was lying to him and he’d blatantly call you out on it.

But if he found out, you knew you’d have to suffer through the relentless teasing and feared that he may not support you.

As much as you loved being a Host, you loved Ouma as well, which caused you to feel like you were being backed into a corner. You were quite conflicted with your situation and rattled your brain while trying to come up with the best solution.

It’s not like Ouma hasn’t already sensed your strange behavior and, as they say, curiosity killed the cat; he mischievously went through your belongings while you were in the other room, not expecting to actually find anything incriminating.

Normally, it takes a lot to upset him. Most of his emotions are at least a little bit fabricated and he knows how to suppress them, but stumbling across another man’s clothing in your room felt like a punch to the stomach.

Ouma was speechless and could feel the tears forming along his lashes as he stared down at the school uniform, recognizing it as one from your school and wondering who it belongs to.

You walked into your room just as he was picking up your Host uniform and running his fingers along the fabric. As soon as you saw him collapsed on the floor, you paused and your heart started racing.

Ouma noticed you immediately and couldn’t hold back his aggression, “What the fuck is this?” He presses angrily, causing you to stutter. “I-it’s not what it looks like!”

“Don’t lie to me, (Y/N)!” Ouma exclaims, getting more and more heated by the second. That’s when you simply blurt out the truth, “It’s mine, cross-dress because I’m a Host in the Host Club at my school!”

He blinked a few times to process what was just said. “Wait, what? A… Host Club?” You nod your head reluctantly; Ouma knew you were keeping something from him, but certainly didn’t expect this!

A smug smile immediately formed on his lips and he burst into loud laughter, wiping the tears from his eyes as he calmed himself down. “Wow, and to think you were cheating on me!” All you could do was sheepishly smile at him and snatch the uniform out of his hands.

But Ouma was already up to no good, asking you countless questions about the Club and what exactly you do. He asked if any of the girls knew that you were also a female, and you frantically shake your head and beg him to keep your secret.

“Ooh~ so does that mean you’re surrounded by cute girls all day?” You can sense the unsettling lighthearted tone in his voice.

From that point on, Ouma makes plenty of jokes about you cross-dressing, as you suspected, and promised to keep your secret as long as you took him to some of your meetings. You hoped that he wouldn’t actually out you as a female, but you can’t put it past him either.

Ouma also praised you for pretending to be a boy, saying, “Wow, I didn’t realize you were such a good liar, (Y/N)!”

Rantaro Amami

You could honestly learn a thing or two from Rantaro, at least when it comes to flirting. Although he doesn’t always do it intentionally, he has a cool and collected aura about him that simply attracts girls to him, your typical ‘cool and mysterious guy’ type that you’ve tried to reflect in your own Hosting abilities. There’s no doubt in your mind that he would be perfect club material.

But the thing is… you haven’t actually told him about your club yet, not entirely sure how to approach the topic without raising suspicions.

He could start to tell that you were hiding something but he wouldn’t force you to talk about it if you weren’t ready. Rantaro knows that relationships are built on trust and communication and he trusted that you would tell him when you’re ready. The last thing he wants to do is to force you to talk about something you aren’t comfortable with.

It takes several months before you’re finally ready to talk about your hobby. Instead of trying to build up suspense and reveal it in some big way like you had originally planned, you simply sit Rantaro down at your counter across from you and let it out with a long sigh.

He extends his hands and cradles yours in his own, thoughtfully listening to you and his eyes never leaving yours. He was completely in-tune with you and ready to listen to what you had to say.

Taking in a deep breath, you start by muttering, “Rantaro, I have something I want to tell you and I don’t want you to take it the wrong way.” He responds with a nonverbal nod, signalling you to continue, “I... cross-dress and work as a Host in the Host Club at my school.”

A small smile forms on his lips and he starts to snicker. “Is that it?” He asks with a curious tone, sounding a bit let down. You silently nod your head and he releases a sigh of relief.

“That’s funny, (Y/N). Certainly not what I expected from you, though.” His voice was calm and relaxed, seemingly unfazed, “I was worried that it was something much more serious.”

Rantaro is very supportive of your status as a Host and he can sense how much you adore it. He finds all of your stories to be incredibly fascinating and has so many questions about how you joined and what it was like, propping his head up on one hand and tilting it to the side as he listens.

The first thing he does is reassure himself that it’s strictly a club and that you don’t have any feelings for your clients; you frantically put those suspicions to rest and ensure that that’s not the reason why you joined.

“Well, (Y/N), I have no reason to not trust you,” Rantaro says with a comforting smile. He was very calm and collected, insisting that as long as you were happy, then you had his full support.

And he would continue to be endlessly supportive of you in every way, doing anything he can to assist you and frequently checking up on you to make sure that all was well within the club.

Rantaro would help you with your moves and outfits, teaching you how to smoothly wrap your arm around a girl’s shoulders, classic pick-up lines and other ways to make them swoon, and helping you pick out what to wear as he tells you what looks best.

Kiibo

You debated telling Kiibo about your club for a long time but inevitably decided against it since you assumed that he wouldn’t understand. You knew that he’s never had experience around Hosts or Host Clubs and figured that it would be more difficult to explain it to him than it would to hide it.

But you do feel bad while hiding it and having to lie about what you were doing after school. It was all in innocent fun and you remained faithful to Kiibo, but you hated that there was such a big part of your life that you had to keep under lock and key.

Things don’t stay peaceful forever, though, and you were only delaying the inevitable moment where he does find out.

Kiibo called you while you were leaving school and saying goodbye to the other Hosts, informing you that Miu had a new invention she wanted to test out with him and that he’d be home in about an hour. It gave you some time to relax since you normally had to rush to change out of your Host clothes, but instead you simply wore them to his place and changed in his bathroom.

You arrived at your shared home and admired yourself in the mirror, thinking about how you did make a very handsome boy. You were so into admiring yourself that you didn’t hear the front door open.

“Who are you?! Get out of my house!” Kiibo exclaims furiously, switching into his offensive mode. You raised your hands defensively and cried for him to wait, saying that, “It’s me, (Y/N)!”

Kiibo relaxed and stared at you quizzically, clearly confused. He started asking you why you were dressed like that and explained that, apparently, Miu wasn’t ready for him so he came home early.

With a hesitant exhale, you realize that it’s finally time to open up to him.

First, you tell him that you’re a Host in a Host Club. When he doesn’t fully understand what that is, as you expected, you start explaining to him. “Well, Host Clubs are clubs where handsome boys entertain girls, so I... cross-dress as a boy and work as a Host myself.”

Kiibo listens with a confused look on his face, asking questions about what you do and why, and it starts to make you feel awful about waiting so long to tell him the truth.

He does his best to be supportive, even though he doesn’t fully understand it. All he really wants is for you to be happy; in his eyes, it’s just something else that makes you unique. And as long as you were happy, he didn’t have to understand it.

Kiibo keeps a positive attitude, although it gives him a headache whenever you try telling him about your day. As much as he enjoys hearing about your life and learning new things about humans, he just doesn’t get the appeal of Host Clubs.

And it takes him a long time to adjust to seeing you in cross-dress; still, he loves you all the same.

Kaito Momota

You loved Kaito to pieces, but he could be pretty oblivious at times. It was quite enthralling and made it easier to hide your Host Club status.

He always got home before you did since he didn’t have any club activities to go to each afternoon. Kaito figured he would do something helpful and clean up around the house to surprise you.

While doing laundry, he found the incriminating clothing stashed away in the corner of your closet. He picked it up and inspected it carefully, his eyes widening and heart pounding against his chest when he realized that it was another man’s outfit, definitely not his own!

Kaito immediately became furious. “How could she lie to me?!” His anger got the best of him and he swore to kill whoever this guy was with his bare hands, but needed to have a serious conversation with you first.

He refrained from calling or texting you since he didn’t want to alarm you while you were busy; Kaito paced around the house in a nervous wreck. He even called Saihara and told him what had happened, drilling him with questions and trying to use his Detective skills to come up with a possible answer.

Even when Saihara told him, “I don’t think (Y/N) is that type of girl and I’m sure she has a reason for those to be in her possession,” he didn’t calm down.

When you finally got home, you were greeted with Kaito’s less than happy face. He was frowning and scowling at you, holding the clothes in one hand as he stood there, waiting for an explanation. As soon as you realized what he was holding, your shoulders dropped and caused your backpack to slide onto the floor.

That’s when Kaito blew up: “I knew it! I knew you were hiding something, your reaction just said everything!” He sounded extremely hurt, which broke your heart.

You promptly hush your boyfriend and try settling him down, and once you finally get him on the couch is when you explain. “Listen, it isn’t what you think. I’m a Host!”

Kaito furrows his brows, “What the Hell, what do you mean by ‘Host’?” He was confused, shaking his head as he failed to connect the dots. “I cross-dress so I can be a Host in my school’s Host Club...”

Initially, Kaito was upset because he assumed that Hosts only flirt with girls and serve no other purpose. He didn’t fully grasp what you do until you explain it to him. “So, all they want is to make girls happy?” He could feel himself starting to relax and you smiled once he finally got it.

Maybe this wasn’t so bad, and he slowly got used to it.

He would let you practice flirting with him, taking up the role as the girl. But Kaito starts to get uncomfortable by your advances and often breaks character unintentionally, thinking that it’s weird. Still, he does his best to try to help you improve your skills as a Host.

And with a wink, he’ll ask you, “Can I come?” and questions about each of your clients, earning a very stern look from you. Kaito was, mainly, joking but you could tell that he found the idea of you flirting with other girls to be a bit... alluring.

Korekiyo Shinguuji

Your relationship was pretty easy going and trusting, so you’re not sure why you haven’t told Korekiyo your secret yet. You were more than certain that he would still be understanding and loving towards you, but something about it was just so intimidating.

You didn’t have experience talking about it because you didn’t tell many people about the club, since the only people who actually knew you were a female were the other Hosts.

You’ve had people look down upon you in the past, so maybe you feared that happening again. There’s really no way of knowing how Korekiyo would handle your membership in the Host Club, and you were still trying to figure out ways to break the news to him.

But he’s definitely not unintelligent and could sense that there was something you’ve been wanting to tell him. Korekiyo sits you down one evening, after making you two dinner, and strokes your hair as he says what’s on his mind. “Do you have something you want to tell me, love? You don’t have to be afraid.”

You were a little bit taken aback by his directness and unsure of how to really respond. Since Korekiyo put you on the spot, you had very little time to prepare and, instead, you simply blurt out what you were trying to say without thinking.

“I… work as a Host in a Host Club, and I have to cross-dress. I’ve been meaning to tell you but I didn’t know how.”

Korekiyo’s eyebrows raise and he tilts his head to one side, clearly surprised and not at all what he was expecting.

But that surprised reaction soon turns into support and curiosity as he asks you questions, firstly making sure that none of your activities were driven by romance.

You squeeze his hand with a reluctant smile and shake your head. “No, if you think I have feelings for the girls, then you don’t have to worry. There’s nothing going on, I only love you.”

This relaxed Korekiyo and causes him to release his tension. Now, he was just interested to hear about what it was like. He’s always been curious as to what goes on in Host Clubs, after all, always far too adamant to actually step foot into one himself.

He would be very supportive of you and asks about your club meetings daily, genuinely curious as to what happens.

Korekiyo is incredibly positive and supportive of your hobby and even helps you with your outfits, shopping together and telling you what looks nice. And if you need practice, he has no issue with being the girl you flirt with.

And on the plus side, Korekiyo also thinks you make a pretty handsome man.

Gonta Gokuhara

You never really explain to Gonta what you do in your club since you know he won’t fully understand and you’re afraid of hurting him. Although he asks about your club, you always find a reason around it.

Gonta was helping you do your laundry one morning. Typically, you do yours outside of the home to avoid him finding your Host attire, but you accidentally forgot to take some of your recent outfits out of the basket.

He lifts the men’s jacket from the bottom of the laundry basket with one hand and examines it momentarily. Clearly, it wouldn’t fit him so Gonta is confused as to how it got here.

“(Y/N), is this yours?” He asks with a bit of doubt in his voice. He looked upset and you immediately swipe the jacket out of his hands and shove it into the washer, offering him a shy smile in return.

You could tell that Gonta was starting to feel angry and conflicted, and if you didn’t snuff the flame out now then he might explode. “Calm down, sweetheart, it is mine but I can explain...”

He doesn’t say anything and instead patiently waits for you to continue with a sick feeling in his stomach. “Listen, I’m just... a Host... in a Host Club, that’s all.”

“What’s a Host Club?” he asks as he draws his brows inward. You sheepishly smile and start explaining to him, “Well, I dress like a boy and spend my time... entertaining other girls. It’s really not as bad as it sounds, I promise!”

Gonta furrowed his brows and stares at you for a long time which floods your stomach with butterflies. He started asking you questions about the club and what the point of it was, as well as who else is in it. You spill everything to him and tell him that he main purpose is to make sure that you make the girls happy.

“So… Host Club is for gentlemen?” He says, a tiny smile flickering across his face. You quickly nod, returning the smile and feeling a bit more hopeful now.

That’s when he starts to get even more excited, reciprocating his interest in your club activities and beaming like a child.

“Gonta wants to join Host Club!” He exclaims enthusiastically and you started to giggle, “Well, not just anyone can join.”

Although he doesn’t completely understand the concept, he’ll support it as long as you’re happy! And, if you spend your time brightening people’s days and making girls smile, why wouldn’t he support you?

As long as you’re part of the Host Club, then you can also teach Gonta what you learn and show him how to be a true gentleman; he loves the idea of your club!

Even if it’s a completely new concept to him, Gonta doesn’t mind. It makes you, as well as others, happy. He can get used to seeing you cross-dressing, even though he still sometimes gets confused and thinks you’re someone else. But you have his full, unconditional support!

Ryoma Hoshi

Due to his rather cold disposition, you assumed that Ryoma wouldn’t understand or support your status as a Host Club member and worried about how and when you would tell him.

You’ve only been dating for a few months and haven’t gotten too serious yet, but that was still a big part of your life that you struggled to hide, and you’d like to share that side of your life with your boyfriend.

There have been so many times where you wanted to tell Ryoma about your day but simply had to bite your tongue.

Normally, you visited him after you got out of your club meeting and planned to see him that afternoon - you knew where he kept his spare key so getting inside his house shouldn’t be an issue.

Before you left school, Ryoma called you and told you that he would be running an errand and that he’d meet you back at his place, so you didn’t bother to change out of your Host outfit just yet. It took time and you’d much rather get to Ryoma’s house first, before it got dark.

After slipping into his bedroom to change, a sudden sound caught you off-guard: the sound of footsteps approaching. Immediately, you froze out of fear and tried listening to where they were coming from. Unbeknownst to you, they had already managed to sneak up behind you...

Whirling around, you were met with the face of a defensive Ryoma, who demanded you tell him who you were and how you got into his home. After examining your face for a moment, he quickly realized that it was none-other than you.

“(Y/N)? Why are you dressed like that?” You sighed, feeling defeated and broke down on his bed. Immediately, your boyfriend rushes to your side to console you, asking what was wrong.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you that I’m a... Host in the Host Club at my school, I just didn’t really know how to say it.”

You feared that he would be concerned or not very supportive of you; but to your surprise, Ryoma doesn’t really care. A tiny smile graced his lips and he breathed out a sigh, “So, that’s it?”

Nodding your head, you wondered what he meant by that. After reassuring him that you weren’t in it for the romantic aspect and was only a member for fun, he pushed all of his other fears to the side. He trusted that you were being faithful to him, so why shouldn’t he support your hobby?

Ryoma will sometimes make jokes about you cross-dressing here and there, mainly self-deprecating humor along the lines of, “Well, you make a more handsome man than I do.” Other than that, he isn’t too bothered by it and couldn’t care less about what you did in your free-time as long as you were being safe and remained happy.

Overall, he’s pretty chill and understanding. Ryoma is quite open to hearing about your club activities and finds some humor in you pretending to be a boy, often wondering how you pull it off. You only wished that you would’ve told him sooner, had you known that he would be this supportive and understanding; it feels like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders since you can finally feel free to be yourself.

- Mod Rantaro

#danganronpa #danganronpa imagines #danganronpa v3 #killing harmony #ndrv3 #ndrv3 imagines #kokichi ouma #ouma kokichi #shuichi saihara #saihara shuichi #amami rantarou #rantaro amami #kiibo #kaito momota #korekiyo shinguuji #gonta gokuhara #ryoma hoshi

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naruhearts · 5 years

Text

14x10: Dean Free Will Winchester, Destiel, TFW, and the Only Win

Originally posted by michaeldean

*trips over feet*

I still have no proper words re: the seamless interconnections of TFW/Dean/Emotional Arc-centric meta that most of the meta community has already yelled and written extensively about since S12. 14x10 was a META EXPLOSION, my friends. I had complete chills!! Yockey’s magnificent soup lent us years of Dean/TFW-characteristic meta narratively realized like some colourful picnic basket of psychology.

I’m sure I missed some awesome stuff considering I haven’t rewatched it yet, but for now, here’s my semi-coherent first-impression thoughts (some of which I copy-pasted from twitter) under the cut!!

On the other hand, if you don’t want to read this massive post, it can be succinctly summarized in one phrase:

Originally posted by @intelligentshipper

Dean is the cage. Man, yes I know, the NARRATIVE WEIGHT AND SYMBOLISM OF DEAN LOCKING HIMSELF UP; Dean’s possibly in “physically rough shape” (translation: emotionally rough shape) inside the cage he built for himself. As the Master of Repression and Locking Up Emotions, this unhealthy psychological mechanism in this case becomes his controlled strength against the core of his trauma and everything Michael represents *points at Dean meta* therein lies the beautiful paradox of the human condition. Dean Humanity Winchester is the poster boy for it. It’s all led to this! Don’t you love when our characters undergo self-translation from unwanted/coerced destiny to chosen role (after Michael manipulated Dean’s freely given “Yes”. And recall the same key theme with Sam occupying the position of Gatekeeper to Hell re: Lucifer trauma in 14x01)?

14x10 in itself offsets the rest of what we’re gonna see characteristically as per TFW’s individual narrative journeys (and Destiel arc; we’ve observed the continuation of Dean and Cas role reversals as per usual, with Mind!Pamela and Father Figure Michael serving as heavy-hitter Casifer-reminiscent exposition). “Nihilism” and “Damaged Goods” paired through subversion, where Dean going on a ‘suicide’ mission via imprisoning himself with Michael isn’t done out of SOLE low self-worth (don’t get me wrong, he still hasn’t fully emancipated himself yet) but mostly 50% low self-worth and 50% martyrdom for his loved ones. Toxic codependency is no longer the basis of Dean’s self-sacrificial choices, but LOVE AND…LOVE. However, Dean still assumes he deserves to imprison himself. Michael capitalizes on Dean’s depressive trauma and low self-worth in that his conditioning since childhood to internalize self-blame for Sam and Cas’ problems - the world’s problems - works in the Archangel’s favour. He both projects Dean’s fears onto Sam and Cas then breeds their self-doubt by framing them as lacking genuine altruistic value to Dean and hitting TFW where it hurts altogether. A double-double coffee of anguish.

Here we come back to Michael’s overarching role this season as the Harbinger of Truth (as I wrote about when the season first began x x)

Michael!Dean assumes he knows what people want, and yes, maybe in some respects he does in fact know, but I mentioned that he distorts a person’s sense of “worthiness to be saved” (oh, I wonder where I heard that previously) by exploiting their self-hate/respective mental uncertainty of their wants vs needs.

That’s the GOLD about Michael’s role: he’ll be uncovering an entire interpersonal discourse on the characters figuring out (and using their damn communicative skills to accentuate) what they WANT vs. NEED. Again, clarification of truths.

In 14x10, we were largely reminded of Michael and his intrinsic link to S14′s themes and TFW (copy-pasted from my 14x01 review meta; meta builds and builds on itself!):

WHAT DO YOU WANT, A New Beginning (a New World Order, a Better World in Michael’s case reminiscent of S6/7 like I expected. Michael is the absolute antithetical figure to Dean Humanity Winchester, who is blinded by authoritarianism), Love Is Weakness (Love is also STRENGTH, and different kinds of love exist, where we see more singular vs plural dialogue e.g. Cas’ “You have me. You have all of us”) and Family Is Unity.The fact that Michael is the one asking people what they want, specifically directing it to Anael the Destiel/Cas mirror (which she was in 13x13), bodes VERY well for me. He’s going to hold a key overarching position in the clarification of truths and Want Vs Need for TFW with significant flavours of past Eldritch Expositional Big Bads like Amara. Anael is feeling a lack of kinship. She desires belonging. A home. And it’s all very human of her. Because of this emotionality, Anael has FALLEN.

What is your truth? Confront your truth. Accept what you see in the mirror (like I was saying the other day) and glue that broken reflection back together into something empowering. Honest. Genuine. Self-actualizing. And considering Dean is imprisoned within his own body (confinement/imprisonment was again tangible across the episode both plot, visual, and characteristic-wise where TFW, impacted by Dean the Heart Hero’s absence, left a gloomy sense of detachment, helplessness, expendability, and failure internalization) and considering Dean is no doubt hearing Michael reiterate this main thematic question has me buzzing with the joys of self-introspection!!

What do you want, Dean Winchester? What do you want, Cas? What does everyone want?

**Michael additionally gauges the purity of potential recruits for his Supermonster army via hunger. What are you hungry for? What do you crave? Seemingly calls back to S5 Famine and the emptiness derived from losing something alongside experiencing trauma. And when Michael offers you the misleading opportunity, will you take it? Are you worthy? Michael distorts worthiness (Dean’s worthiness; indeed, Dean fills the episode’s negative spaces) by exploiting self-hate. Cas enhances (Dean’s) worthiness by providing freedom.

The “turning point” between Dean and Cas in 12 may actually be Dean saying goodbye (then perhaps finding out about Cas’ deal; we shall see). This could call back to 11x23, where Dean was also surrounded by his family pre-sacrifice. Dean thinking he needs to “die” - to lock himself up - in order for them to win may segue into TFW “wishing” things were different, thus somehow inducing John’s return (and possibly Chuck’s re: Daddy Issues) in 14x13.

Dean wasn’t left alone at the end of the episode. His family - Sam and Cas - were there with him as the wonderful antithesis re: Michael isolating Dean. Separating family ends up unifying family, BUT like I said above, he was still able to hit them where it hurt. Michael the Manipulator used words to twist their thoughts into self-doubt - sow self-discord, yet TFW worked as a unit to strike back. Lessons learned: stronger together, weaker apart.

Sam and Cas occupying the dark Empty-parallel space in Dean’s mind. His MIND was an EXPOSÉ. ALL THE TRAUMA, and it’s incredibly significant that we observed Cas scanning Dean’s traumatic memories (obviously he’s an angel, but the meta undercurrents of this killed me). Cas has now actually seen/felt/heard Dean’s trauma, anguish, and long-running depression instead of Dean using his words to tell him about such trauma; it’s ingenious storytelling, not to mention Sam introspecting over Dean’s own trauma in order to find him was SUPER uplifting and META ironic --> Finding Dean involves happiness. Most importantly, Cas was witness to Dean’s low self-worth, negative self-process, failure internalization, and fear of the future without blinking, yet he also displayed total worry, compassion, and barely concealed panic - as if he couldn’t bear to think about the multilayered traumatic prison that Michael trapped Dean within. Sam said “Dean is strong.” Cas replies that Dean is “more than strong.” To Cas, Dean’s strength of mind, body, and soul shines, and this is why he’s in love with this man - his charge. He loves him in the face of his trauma and past mistakes. Once I have time, I should discuss the memories we heard, but of course they involve his time in Hell (and his S3 mirror telling him he will become a demon. Moc/Demon!Dean callbacks).

CAS: So much. So much trauma in Dean’s mind. There’s so many scars.

SAM: Well yeah. Dean’s been through a lot, but he’s strong.

CAS: Sam...you’ve both been through a lot, and Dean is more than strong [...] Because Michael has Dean trapped away - drowning - I have to wade through Dean’s most terrible memories.

SAM: Would Michael bury Dean in trauma? Michael said it himself. The reason he left Dean in the first place was because Dean was fighting back so hard.

CAS: So if Michael wanted to keep Dean placated--

SAM: Dean thrives on trauma. He’s had to his whole life. It keeps him alert -- keeps him ready. But if I wanted to distract Dean, I’d give him something he’s never had before.

CAS: Contentment.

(**Sam’s right, but he’s also wrong. Dean “thrived” on trauma because he had to as the consequence of a misguided John-imbued childhood, where he mostly skipped over the innocent era of being a healthily developing child and became an adult overnight: father, mother, and brother rolled into one. A good little soldier, and he created various masks of performativity in response to trauma. Multiple tiny seeds of self-doubt grew into worthless that then bred emotional misarticulation, repression, and psychological instability. x)

14x10 majorly ties into SPN’s season-long storytelling commentary on TFW’s perception of Happiness and the overarching themes of Happiness vs Sadness. Cas stated to Jack how The Life™ rarely gives oneself happiness last episode. Ultimately, can you believe Dean’s accrued trauma has been textualized like this?!

Michael knows that Dean has never been happy.

Dean never lets himself have what he wants to have nor be who he wants to be. He is entrapped by fearing real happiness, and his trauma holds him back from achieving what he wants - continues to make him believe that he doesn’t deserve to be content.

And Dean certainly wants Cas. He is fully cognizant and self-aware of this fact. Narratively reconsolidated in musical exposition by the Marshall Tucker Band’s “Searchin’ for a Rainbow”, Dean searches for the rainbow endlessly, but he’s uncertain…afraid of the wind’s flow (and his internalization of low self-worth remains –> he believes “all good things come to an end”. Temporary contentment, where he’s undeserving of such good things as epitomized by real estate woman who wants to infringe on Dean’s property/dream; ‘sell it out’ literally and figuratively).

Either Dean will find his pot of gold waiting for him, or he won’t, and this is the underlying star-crossed literary beauty of the D/C narrative.

Dean’s sick of pretending. He WANTS the wind to show him the way, but we must remember that, in an episode rich with the concept of authorial authority - writing your own fate and ever-glaring Free Will - he NEEDS to blow the wind himself. If he just allows himself to believe that he can have true happiness, then he will.

*I SCREAM, YOU SCREAM, WE ALL SCREAM FOR META-INTROSPECTION!*

Michael’s “I Am You” —> Dean knows he is Michael - the reflection who embodies all the dark parts of himself, just like Dark!Kaia underlined - but he also knows he isn’t Michael, and Dean will use it to his advantage. Dean has what Michael lacks: FAMILY. x

“EVEN GOD CAN DIE.” This cracks open so many parental absenteeism eggs. Cas’ conversation with Michael over Chuck, the ultimate deadbeat absent father figure, was simply an outlet for Michael to attribute his self-righteously immoral actions to his fatherly abandonment. Bitterness. And Cas, more humanized than ever, is aware of Michael’s shortcoming: “confusing loyalty and compassion with weakness”, thus these perceived “weaknesses” are foils to Michael’s preference for isolation, solitude, mercilessness, betrayal, and hatred.

MICHAEL: Playing nursemaid to a nephilim. Nothing like the Castiel I knew. He would’ve never been so...anemic.

Loyalty and compassion are human traits - despised by most angels such as Naomi and Ishim; belittled by Michael - that Cas recognizes and practices. *human!Cas feelings* He has evolved, and as I said in my 14x01 Cas meta:

Earth [is] the true home of Cas the Fish, which bridges his intrinsically human emotionality/disposition as an ex-Angel of The Lord to his sense of belonging. Growing legs to replace fins. Evolution of character. And Dean Winchester, right from their point of contact in Perdition, was the driving spark for his evolution.

“It’s all you,” Dean says to his reflection in the mirror, a repeated mantra, as Michael tries to break out of Dean’s mind, bringing my pre-14x01 meta of MIRRORS to light!! Dean confronted the reflection of himself that he has always hated, where the deep-seated worthlessness that he must eliminate is buried with Michael -- the narrative embodiment of Dean’s toxic shackles: predeterminism, Brodependency, parental absenteeism, repression, toxic misemotionality, and blunt tool expendability as his father’s hammer and society’s hammer. I adore Dean’s consistent self-awareness over the seasons as he learns to differentiate what he can and cannot control. And Michael is jailed inside a FRIDGE *light bulb explodes* It’s time to achieve self-actualization. Sure progress.

DEAN’S “ROCKY’S BAR” EASTER EGGS, MIND!PAMELA BARNES AND DESTIEL

Rocky’s Bar (Rocky & Bullwinkle & Friends!!) was an EASTER EGG meta dream set by Wanek, with thematic colours of blue (depression, loneliness, and isolation -- blue is immediately evoked as soon as Dean starts gaining self-awareness of his past trauma-laden life and remembers the real Pamela), dim reds and somber yellows. GOOD STUFF!!

@intelligentshipper wrote/gathered superb colour meta on this consistent palette of Self + Depression this season - RED || BLUE & YELLOW || I’ve also briefly touched upon the recurring hues that we saw in another hardcore meta episode: Scoobynatural 13x16.

Hello bisexual colours (pink, purple, blue in this setting; observe the metaphor of this very moment - Repressive Toxic Past/Paternal Figure Michael wrestling for dominance over Dean. We live in a meta world.)

Without sounding redundant, here’s the list of Easter Eggs by sasquatchandleatherjackets/mittensmorgul. 14x10 bursts with so much symbolism that it warrants >2 rewatches!

SEARCHIN’ FOR A RAINBOW by the Marshall Tucker Band playing in Dean’s bar (see above):

I rode into town today In my mind, I said 'Lord I'd like to stay' Something in me said boy, move on Don't know what it is the good lord bred it in my bones

And I'm searchin for a rainbow, and if the wind ever shows me where to go, you'd be waiting at the end and I know, I'd see the hill with that pot of gold.

This old mount I'm ridin', she's gettin' kinda' tired But in my heart she knows there's this one desire She's gonna' take me to the end of our road

One of my favourites: the Daphne Loves Fred carved on the bar counter!! Fred, who represented Dean’s healthy masculinity -- was loved by Daphne, the dual counterpart of Dean’s non-repression: the side of him that adores wearing pink nightgown dresses, pink satin panties, vegetable water, romcoms and romance novels...the side of him that adores and embodies everything defined as “feminine” within a heternormative patriarchy. Reiterating past meta, Daphne also symbolized the traditional poster woman he should be attracted to, but never truly obtains for himself. Why? Because his true desires break tradition, and Dean’s subconscious knows this. They break his harrowing past of repression and psychological toxicity. They throw away what John Winchester wanted for him. x

And in this--

FB = Winchester “Family Business” = Jensen’s Family Business Beer Co, with FOX RYE and (phallic-shaped) COSMIC COWBOY as FBBC drinks (and the latter evoking 13x06 Space Cowboy and Cowboy!Cas. This episode, guys. WOW.)

Moving onto Michael’s subtextually telling construct of Pamela Barnes --

Mind!Pamela, well, she blew MY mind! @thetwistedwillow already describes amazing crucial points here. And let me provide commentary on the riveting and pertinent subtextual D/C double whammy of their office scene together:

DEAN: How come you always have a boyfriend?

PAMELA: How come you only want what you can’t have? You don’t want me -- you just like to flirt. Besides, I’m a psychic, so I kinda know.

DEAN: All right.

Mind!Pamela asking Dean why he only wants what he can’t have, linked to Pamela having a boyfriend, establishes romantic connotations. Pamela was D/C exposition.

There’s truth in jokes. Pamela's lines to Dean could be construed as genuine interest, but Yockey actually shot that down via Pamela confirming that the flirting is just for fun, with Dean not actually wanting her, and it nudges at the Destiel context. To me, if you move this outside the D/C context, it would make no sense, because the real Pamela did kiss Dean. They had a passing attraction to each other. Why not have them kiss again, then? Well, Pamela encapsulated both Dean’s subconscious psyche and Michael’s mouthpiece. And by Freudian design, both Dean and Michael know who he truly wants.

Cas is once again ensconced in the negative spaces.

Keeping in mind that Michael has seen Dean’s memories and feelings via possessing him, Michael’s construct of Pamela in the bar setting was, in certain respects, his unsaid Empty-parallel statement: “I know who you love - what you fear.”

Dean wants what he can’t have. He still thinks he doesn’t deserve Cas, and indeed, in his heart of hearts - in the deepest crevices of his being - Michael knows (like most Expositional Eldritch Villains do e.g. S11 Amara) who he loves and what he fears (manipulating Dean’s fears into snake-tongued attacks on Sam and Cas; those statements aren’t true, but human beings are contradictory, and Dean thinking such things about them long ago can still plant self-doubt today, but TFW are strong, and it’s all about conquering negative self-process to come out on the other side unscathed. I mean oh boy, we thought Lucifer was the prime expert on manipulation. Michael’s just as bad as his brother, if not worse.)

Dean is in love with the angel “who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition” (spot-on impersonation by Jensen) and Michael knowing the exact words then punches me in the feels because it’s a profound line...the iconic line verbalized by Cas to Dean in 4x10 Lazarus Rising that offset their love story later on. It’s the prime beginning.

To me, Michael hereby implies that he saw Dean’s memory of the first time he set his eyes upon Cas, and that it’s a highly valued memory which caused Michael to taunt it in the first place.

Like others have already pointed out as well, Dean’s memory of Pamela shows True!Form Cas blinding her in 4x01, and that certain memory, on an intriguing note, successfully breaks Dean out of the dream construct.

Since I don’t want to subject my readers to longer rambling, more of my meta on Pamela Barnes, Destiel, and the 13x06 Tombstone M/F Destiel-coded cowboy cutouts in Dean’s Mind Bar can be found here (with some repeated points that you’ve read throughout this post): http://naruhearts.tumblr.com/post/182144879031/14x10-destiel-cowboys-and-pamela-barnes

- - - -

TL;DR sign me up for the necessary pain!! All the TFW storytelling threads of the last few seasons consistently pushing SPN’s primary themes of Family, Unity, Love and…Love, New Beginnings, Self-Actualization and, of course, mental/emotional CATHARSIS from the old toxic past, will come together.

On another Destiel-adjacent note: Dean and Cas, their narratives running parallel to each other like they always have (especially since S12), are making the toughest, selfless, and sacrificial choices to save their loved ones (via Michael and Empty) and achieve the greatest win of all: living, hoping, and trusting interdependently.

And then Sam -- additionally making an impossible non-toxic codependent decision that I definitely believe is him giving Dean the go-ahead for self-imprisonment -- will encounter John in Endverse-adjacent AU!AU. *rubs hands together* CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT AHEAD.

DEAN’S CAGE/SARCOPHAGUS, 14x11 PROMO, AND FREE WILL

(Screenshot by me from my TV lol)

Obviously we saw very little of 14x11. But I saw enough to flail over it!!

Dean built a coffin - a sarcophagus for himself. A Pandora’s Box, as coined by @thetwistedwillow who also screamed with me in terms of the heartbreaking circular narrative of Dean’s S14 ‘burial’: simultaneously punishing himself and protecting the world from his failures --> the dual subtext of Dean’s return to ashes that naturally leads to resurrection. Lazarus Rising to Lazarus Dying.

Aka Dean imprisoning himself via isolation on his own free will and ultimately subverting Michael’s efforts to imprison Dean via coercion and possession.

I can’t even believe the sheer metaphorical symbolism of this!! CLOSET!BOX. Seriously. Again, years of Dean meta (and queer Dean meta) roped together in an angsty paradoxical basket by Yockey and co.

For Dean to emancipate himself—and save his loved ones + the world—he’s gotta imprison himself with the current source of his trauma (Michael) as well as deconstruct and deal with all the other remaining trauma he bottled up. Lazarus will rise again.

As Billie says, every single one of Dean’s endgame deaths were rewritten (this textualized TFW as the harbingers of their own destiny, where Dean himself “broke enough rules” to get his endgames rewritten!! I can’t tell you enough how gorgeous that is.), and they all end the same way, with Michael breaking free and using Dean to burn the world to the ground...EXCEPT FOR ONE.

(I had to) x

Guys, I’m burning with curiosity!! What endgame did Dean see? Utter shock was written across his face -- an intense disbelief and surprised demeanor, topped off with what seemed like tears in his eyes -- that gave me pause.

DEAN: What am I supposed to do with this?

BILLIE: That’s up to you.

That’s up to you --> Anubis said: Death, the reapers, and even God have no say. All the rules? All the cosmic constraints? They’re just useless in itself. They pass away. There are no rules. TFW “broke the rules” over and over and over again because they can.

A person’s choices in life dictate their fate.

“It’s about the journey, not the destination.”

In 4x03 In The Beginning (this title, y’all - authors and stories!!), no matter what Dean did to try and kill Azazel so that the subsequent murders of Mary’s parents, John, and the penultimate deal to resurrect John at poor Sammy’s expense are avoided, Dean realized that he could not alter Mary’s choices. Azazel still ended up poisoning Sam with demon blood. He couldn't influence her endgame because she wrote it herself in conjunction with external parties Cupid and Heaven (huh, forced free will paradox). At the same time, Mary’s journey invokes the key subverted difference of the Dean/Cas vs Mary/John parallel narrative which is fundamentally important to remember -- Free Will vs Destiny. Chosen Love vs Fated Love. Mary freely operated on fate’s influence, while Dean and Cas’ first meeting proliferated into a love story no one has ever foreseen, where they both defied subservient expectations and destiny fulfillment.

From the first point of contact, Dean and Cas seared their influence upon the other in the form of a profound brand.

Dean and Cas can make their own choices -- and have done so -- outside of predetermined plans for them. Dean and Cas’ love in itself blossomed out of free choice. Through rough seas, high tides, bright beaches, and hellfire, their love proved impervious. It was impervious to Heaven, Hell, reapers, and any supernatural force we’ve observed that tried to split them apart over the course of the show.

Attempting to constrain (Love and...) love, the greatest and most powerful force in the universe, is impossible.

The Second Law of Thermodynamics: chaos in the universe, which is the ultimate isolated system, only increases and never decreases.

Cosmic constraints all boil down to, well, nothing. We write our own fates. Michael failed to understand this concept. Destiel/TFW weren’t “defying” rules but acting as human beings with inherent agency the whole time. They are the authors and actors of their lives. Heaven/Hell despised humanity’s free will, when God’s miracle was truly his “mistake”: his draft worlds and giving humans free will. The flawed drafts = the universe becoming increasingly more chaotic.

It’s futile to enforce constraints, labels, and norms. Dean is absolutely narratively framed as the prime Death. The death one encounters depends on one’s choices.

In sum, Dean must LET IT GO. Do what you want to do, not what you need to do, though they go hand-in-hand. Drawing upon the last few seasons pertaining to baptism of the Self and interpersonal relationships, this includes communication, transparency, and quality time together.

As I’ve said here regarding 14x07 and Jack’s mirror role:

We had these wonderfully poignant moments pushing back Dean’s performance: exposing the core of his heart wrapped up in the walls of trauma, guilt, and crippled self-process. Dean sees his Free Self, who is waiting…encouraging him to let go and live life to the fullest.

His Free Self is starting to break the water’s surface — has been doing so this entire cathartic S14 narrative of looking in the mirror (actively hammered down in 14x04/5/6).

Dean’s realizing that yes, life may not be all these big, amazing moments. There’s numerous valleys of pain, horror and death. But there’s also numerous rivers of optimism and joy (hello to the river they visited in this episode. It pretty much re-consolidated SPN’s Rebirth/New Beginning themes carrying over from S12: a baptism of the self and interpersonal relations). Family and friendship. Faith and love. He simply needs to cast his line, catch the fish Cas, and pull it out of water for good aka make the dreams, wants, and desires reality.

As @thetwistedwillow pointed out, Dean’s initial offer to head out to a potential hookup bar was a foil for Jack the Non-Performative mirror of Dean: the wingman move winking at the old (DYING) remnants of his John-polished performativity and calling back to Dean bringing newly minted Cas to the brothel in Free to Be You and Me, in that the night took an unexpectedly not-salacious but sentimental turn. That night, Dean hasn’t laughed so hard in years, even with his own brother.

8 years later, Jack knew what Dean’s heart truly wanted. He felt it. Jack rejected the hookup offer precisely because — just last episode — he perceived Dean’s natural tune. It was casual sex, shacking up, and adios (yes postmodernmulticolouredcloak) no longer. It was romance and courting before dating, which involved emotional exploration and ding ding ding, spending time together (also both on the familial and romantic levels -> BEING THERE with Dean: the key gesture conveying that he deeply matters to you, and you matter to him). Jack wanted the same thing, too.

It all comes full circle. Free to be you and me indeed, since Dean’s almost free of John’s ghost, as a father, brother, and husband. We’ll be here to witness his complete emancipation.

14x10 textualized Free Will and the neverending stories of neverending stories of neverending stories: we can do what we want by formulating our own rules, and each individual has a moral compass influenced by their differing experiences.

Whatever Dean’s seen -- we don’t know what he saw, and we may not EVER know, and it’s literally pure conjecture at this point, but for the sake of meta speculation...legitimate HAPPINESS? His dream bar epitomized in real life but even better, where the realism of it involves not having to sell out ANYTHING nor sell out HIMSELF? Retirement? Dying from old age? Marrying Cas? The ACTUAL beach, toes in the sand, umbrella drinks, with matching Hawaiian shirts? General BAD things leading to good things? Yes, this is Supernatural, and as Cas put it in 14x09: no one can experience permanent happiness in The Life™ , but recall subversion. Death preceding Life - the natural cycle - persists. Dabb & Co have created an SPN narrative plethora of New Beginning cyclism for a while now, so of course I have no doubt that a positive endgame is in the cards -- whatever Dean’s read has stimulated Dean’s motives to build his sarcophagus. He thinks he has an idea of what to do to get to this endgame or (what I expect/hope is) Happy Death?

Heck, in the 14x10 context of Author God, writing drafts, and reaper books -- what if his ending is:

TA-DA!

It’s up to Dean to write his own ending. He has a blank slate as Author of his life.

The possibility of this blank slate ending as a win at first glance seems to entail the worst kind of choice -- since we all know repressing your trauma and emotions aka locking yourself up breeds maladaptive unhealthiness in the long run -- but it’s an absolutely necessary choice. The final countdown before self-actualization.

I kept saying it last season and I’ll say it again --

Dean Depressed Winchester must “die” so that Dean Self-Actualized Winchester can live. Dean building Pandora’s Box - CLOSET!BOX - for himself is LITERALLY an amalgamation of ‘Deal with your Trauma & Self’.

He should open the closet of happiness, embody self-acceptance, and go after what makes him happy -- what makes him psychologically wholesome, for Cas himself, Dean’s narrative half, tells the truth of his root fears:

Dean does deserve to be saved. He deserves happiness in all of its variant forms -- the eclectic rainbow of beach vacations, retirement, Rocky’s Bar, finding romantic love -- and he must try to believe it himself. His closet!box is the catalytic literal/metaphorical object for this chief realization.

And to emphasize how important the burial is regarding Dean’s psychological progression, ta-da, my 13x20 Dean meta still applies today, primary themes carried over into S14 by Dabb & Co:

And what are Dean’s WINS (plural) by dying? Saving people instead of losing people–saving Mary, Jack, Sam, and Cas. Saving the world. Reuniting his family unit. Interacting instead of performing. OUTING INSTEAD OF HIDING. HIGH DEPRESSIONLESS SELF-WORTH INSTEAD OF LOW DEPRESSIVE SELF-WORTH.

Better yet, Dean will undergo character development in relation to his loved ones (and Cas). With high self-worth, Dean’s capable of learning how to value HIMSELF independently. In turn, without personal obstacles he’ll learn how to sustain HEALTHY interdependent relationships and COMMUNICATION as well as learn how to WHOLLY GIVE HIMSELF to others (Cas).

Tell Cas he’s not expendable, Dean. Disclose the real reason YOU “needed him back”. Expose your feelings, choose Want over Need, and push away your rejection fears! Cas loves you dearly—let him know that his love for you is reciprocated. Nothing but good things ahead!!

And that’s the mystery of life: to live is to die. To die is to live. By “dying”, Dean saves his loved ones. He saves the world. He saves Cas, his romance-coded (sub)textual lover, Jack his son, and Sam his brother -- his family.

He saves himself.

His mind, his rules.

And Dean doesn’t know FOR SURE if this burial choice will lead to a win -- neither do we know if he’ll go through with it until 14x11 airs -- but that’s AGENCY, my friends. It’s the meat of particular Time Travel Is Bad tropes: if we know our ending, life loses meaning. The choices we make to get there loses value. Humanity loses unpredictability. Ergo the journey through life - the POINT of living - is about executing choices and taking chances.

"If nothing we do matters, then all that matters is what we do." - Camus, Absurdism

The biggest reminder governing my SPN viewing as it had last season:

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shipatfirstsight · 5 years

Text

On Persuasion

One of my favourite things about Persuasion is that Wentworth has to learn to accept Anne’s form of strength? He thinks that she was disloyal to him in choosing to honour her family’s wishes over their engagement, and so he sees her as weak. Wentworth cares for Anne so much that I don’t think he can understand that her choice was a sacrifice that she made in part for him. He can’t see that really she choose his success over her happiness.

Had she not imagined herself consulting his good, even more than her own, she could hardly have given him up.---The belief of being prudent, and self-denying principally for his advantage, was her chief consolation, under the misery of a parting---a final parting; and every consolation was required, for she had to encounter all the additional pain of opinions, on his side, totally unconvinced and unbending, and of his feeling himself ill-used by so forced a relinquishment.---He had left the country in consequence.

The text sort of sets up Wentworth’s success in the Navy as being due to Anne breaking their engagement but he can’t see that because he wanted it all. He wanted to have her and wealth. He didn’t want to have to give her up. But he might not have taken the same risks if he had Anne at home, which I think other people have pointed out. The brief moment Austen gives us of his perspective is really telling.

He had thought her wretchedly altered, and, in the first moment of appeal, had spoken as he felt. He had not forgiven Anne Elliot. She had used him ill; deserted and disappointed him; and worse, she had shown a feebleness of character in doing so, which his own decided, confident temper could not endure.

(Side note: Austen almost makes this sound like a Marianne/Willoughby situation with Wentworth feeling like Marianne, which is interesting)

Part of it could boil down to their awareness of each other; I don’t think there’s any way he wouldn’t have noticed how little Anne’s immediate family gives her emotionally. It might be a pride issue with him--why would she choose her family over him? And Lady Russell’s concerns, while motivated in part by a monetary concern for Anne’s wellbeing, ultimately come down to her not liking Wentworth; this is sort of shown when Lady Russell wants Anne to go to Bath even though she knows Anne doesn’t like Bath.

Lady Russell felt obliged to oppose her dear Anne’s known wishes...Lady Russell was fond of Bath in short, and disposed to think it must suit them all.

It also happens again when Lady Russell wants Anne to marry her cousin. Lady Russell likes him, and while I think she absolutely loves Anne, she’s a little blinded by her own tastes and wants.

This is part of why Wentworth pursues Louisa after her loyalty speech; he sees her as the opposite of Anne.

‘My first wish for all, whom I am interested in, is that they should be firm.’

However, when Louisa gets hurt, Anne quietly takes charge and they all turn to her and let her lead. I think it’s a turning point in more ways than one for Wentworth, in part because he’s finally forced to see Anne’s strength of character.

If Anne is as weak of character and feeling as Wentworth resentfully believes at the beginning of the novel, she would have married Charles Musgrove or her cousin. Her own quiet strength enables her to let Wentworth go and do it in part for his own good, but she remains steadfast to him until he comes back and she’s convinced he’ll never forgive her. Her own understanding of people makes her realise that Mr. Elliot isn’t a good person, regardless of her feelings for Wentworth.

Wentworth is the one that has to learn and grow through the novel, more so than Anne, I would argue. Anne has to learn to trust her own judgement, but Wentworth is the one who goes through the Elizabeth/Darcy process and realises that just because Anne’s character presents itself differently from his does not make it lesser. And it is interesting that Wentworth is more dictated by his emotions than Anne.

‘No!’ he replied impressively, ‘there is nothing worth my staying for;’ and he was gone directly.

Jealousy of Mr. Elliot! It was the only intelligible motive. Captain Wentworth jealous of her affection! Could she have believed it a week ago--three hours ago! For a moment the gratification was exquisite. But alas! there were very different thoughts to succeed. How was such jealousy to be quieted?

Anne’s understanding of Wentworth here, instead of being hurt by his absolute rudeness, is another of those moments that shows Anne’c character. Wentworth understands Anne, except when his judgement is clouded by his emotions and pride. Anne understands him outside of her emotions. At the beginning, she knows he’s not in an emotional place to be able to forgive her, but here in Bath, she’s able to recognise that he’s jealous and never even thinks about being hurt by his words.

Perhaps most telling, though, is that in his letter, Wentworth clearly states that he’s been the weak one. And he finally admits the depth of his feeling to himself and to her by stating that he’s never stopped loving her in the midst of his anger.

I have loved none but you. Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant. You alone have brought me to Bath. For you alone I think and plan.---Have you not seen this? Can you fail to have understood my wishes?---I had not waited even these ten days, could I have read your feelings, as I think you must have penetrated mine...You sink your voice, but I can distinguish the tones of that voice, when they would be lost on others.---Too good, too excellent creature!

He understands her tone of voice, but his judgement is clouded in regards to her emotions towards him and he admits that she is better able to read his emotions than he is her’s. When Anne goes after him

He joined them; but as if irresolute whether to join or pass on, said nothing--only looked.

Wentworth sort of becomes what he told Louisa he did not like; irresolute. He wants Anne to want him, but he’s not sure if she still loves him. Finally he admits to Anne that he’d been wrong about her.

...he had been constant unconsciously, nay unintentionally; that he had meant to forget her, and believed it to be done. He had imagined himself indifferent, when he had only been angry; and he had been unjust to her merits, because he had been a sufferer from them. Her character was now fixed in his mind as perfection itself, maintaining the loveliest medium of fortitude and gentleness; but he was obliged to acknowledge that only at Uppercross had he learnt to do her justice, and only at Lyme had he begun to understand himself.

At the end, Anne reiterates that she as right to listen to Lady Russell; Wentworth still doesn’t like this but I think it shows us that he’s the one not thinking rationally in regards to Anne. When Wentworth states his worry that she was going to marry Mr. Elliot, she responds:

‘You should have distinguished...You should not have suspected me now; the case so different. If I was wrong in yielding to persuasion once, remember that it was to persuasion exerted on the side of safety, not of risk. When I yielded, I thought it was to duty.’

Wentworth’s response to this is also very telling:

‘...I could not derive benefit from the late knowledge I had acquired of your character. I could not bring it into play: it was overwhelmed, buried, lost in those earlier feelings which I had been smarting under year after year, I could think of you only as one who had yielded, who had given me up, who had been influenced by anyone rather than by me.’

Wentworth’s anger, despite what he asserted to Louisa, isn’t caused by Anne being persuaded, but rather that he wasn’t able to persuade her to stay with him over the advice of Lady Russell. He is very ruled by his emotions in a way that Anne isn’t. Anne is more able to read the situations around her, recognise that she wouldn’t have persuaded someone under her care in the way she was persuaded, but also that:

‘...I must believe that I was right, much as I suffered for it, that I was perfectly right in being guided by the friend whom you will love better than you do now. To me, she was in the place of a parent. Do not mistake me, however. I am not saying that she did not err in her advice. It was, perhaps, one of those cases in which advice is good or bad only as the event decides; and for myself, I certainly never should, in any circumstance of tolerable similarity, give such advice. But I mean, that I was right in submitting to her, and that if I had done otherwise, I should have suffered more in continuing the engagement than I did even in giving it up, because I would have suffered in my conscience.’

Wentworth is then able to recognise that his pride and anger made his and Anne’s separation last longer than if he had been more understanding:

‘...I too have been thinking over the past, and a question has suggested itself, whether there may not have been one person more my enemy even than that lady? My own self. Tell me if, when I returned to England in the year eight, with a few thousand pounds, and was posted into the Laconia, if I had then written to you, would you have answered my letter? would you, in short, have renewed the engagement then?’

‘Would I!’ was all her answer; but the accent was decisive enough.

‘Good God!’ he cried, ‘you would! It is not that I did not think of it, or desire it, as what could alone crown all my other successes. But I was too proud, too proud to ask again. I did not understand you. I shut my eyes, and would not understand you, or do you justice.’

Here, where he finally understands her and her motivations more fully, he is able to better understand himself. This is part of why I love this novel, though, because Anne is so gently faithful and steadfast, and while he loved her before, he has a much deeper understanding of her by the end. When Wentworth says in the letter that his heart more fully belongs to her now, I think it is in part due to his greater knowledge of her, his new ability to try to look past his own emotions to understand hers.

#austen #jane austen #persuasion #frederick wentworth #anne elliot #this uh #got long #i apologize #i wrote meta again #persuasion feels always #long post #i don't think this makes complete sense but i've spent hours on it so i'm gonna post it anyways

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vow-upon-a-star · 5 years

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Yeah I'd love those quotes from Nomura/Nojima if you don't mind. There's so much nonsense out there from the other side (CAs) that always end up being completely out of context so I was just wondering what the people in charge have actually said about Cloud/Tifa in regards to the games, AC, and the compilation

Oh man I have 4 anons asking me to post the quotes! Where do I even start???

Ok, reposting these.

–Were there two heroines from the outset?

Nomura: No, originally there was only Aerith, and Tifa was added as another heroine later. To make up for Aerith dying, we needed a heroine who would be by the hero’s side until the end. -WEEKLY FAMITSU ISSUE NO. 1224: TETSUYA NOMURA INTERVIEW

– It’s been 10 years since FFVII was released. I think the reason fans have continued to support it for so long is because it left that much of an impression on them, but what scenes stand out most in your memories as the creators?

Nomura: The scene that sticks out for me is the scene when Tifa going into Cloud’s mental realm and he remembers the truth about what happened in the past.

-The line “Words aren’t the only way to talk someone how you feel,” right? That was quite a mature conversation for a FF game.

Kitase: But I remember having to get another version that was too intense toned down.

Nojima: The original idea was more extreme. The plan was to have Cloud walk out of the Chocobo stable on board the Highwind, followed by Tifa leaving while checking around, but Kitase turned it down. But even with the line in question, maybe at that time none of us thought it would be something so important (laughs).

All of the above are from an interview located in the FF7 10th Anniversary Ultimania

“Inside, I felt one thing was for sure: Cloud and Tifa would be together. Everybody would be back home where they belonged.”-Nojima, Renuion files pg 70.

In Advent Children, the ultimania states that Cloud was happy living with Tifa and the children. Nojima and Nomura go into more detail about this, and why he left even before getting Geostigma.

The more he realizes how happy he is living with Tifa and the children, the more the fear of losing that and regrets toward the past trouble Cloud…-FF7 10th Anniversary Ultimania, pg. 38 (40 in revised edition)

Cloud tried to move on once…but he was hurt by the losses he experienced in the battles he fought in the game story. Even after all of that he still found a peaceful life and that made him scared. He lost it all once already and he could lose it all again. even though he was there he couldn’t do anything to prevent it the last time. So the happier he is, the more lonely he becomes. - Nomura : in Distance, “The making of Advent Children”

-At the end of FFVII, Cloud saved the world and was on the way to a happy ending but, in the two years towards AC, he returned to the way he was in the past. What happened to him?

Nojima: Cloud never had a candid personality to begin with, and although he started living with Tifa and even started working, he obtained a peaceful living he’s never experienced before, and this conversely made him anxious. And in the midst of this he contracts Geostigma himself, and rather than being able to protect the people dear to him, he instead was forced to face his own death, and so ran away -3N interview (The interview was with Nozue, Nojima, and Nomura…hence the name “3N interview”)

Nojima: “Even though he found peace, Cloud has lost a lot of people dear to him up until this point. Not only that, but looking at Cloud’s history, this is the first time he’s experienced a ‘peaceful’ environment in the true sense of the word. Cloud is a character who will always keep thinking, regardless of what’s going on around him.” -3N Interview

Cloud was happy with Tifa, even before he got Geostigma, what was making him nervous was his happiness. He was scared something bad would happen because of all his past trauma. When he got Geostigma, that took the cake.

Some quotes about Tifa.

There are many dimensions to Tifa’s character. She’s like a mother, a sweetheart, and a close ally in battle.- (Nomura) Reunion Files, pg. 19

Tifa is a strong woman. She doesn’t like what Cloud is doing, but instead of lecturing him about every little thing, she’s been waiting for him to realize for himself what his actions are doing. She’s remarkably strong, not only emotionally, but physically as well. I think that using words to help lead Cloud to his own conclusions, instead of constant lecture, is a defining quality of Tifa’s personality.-(Nomura) pg. 20

The director, Nomura, said he wanted me to make sure she wasn’t a clingy woman, but to portray her as though she’s been hurt emotionally in a way that others around her cannot easily detect. (Nojima) pg. 20

The creators saying Tifa is not clingy, she is remarkably strong both emotionally and physically.

Now, let’s look at one more quote from Nomura.

–“What is the relationship between Cloud and Tifa?”

Nomura: “I think that this volume is able to deeply grasp the relationship between the two. It would be simple to say in words, but …” - June 2004 issue (published May of 2004) of Famitsu PS2, on pg. 33 (In regards to AC)

Let’s take a look at what the Ultimania’s have said.

Cloud and Tifa move in together because of their feelings for each other.

The only woman who knows Cloud’s past. In FF7, Tifa is the only one who knows Cloud’s childhood, and furthermore, she holds the key to people involved in the story of Nibelheim’s burning down, which is also depicted in CC. She and Cloud came to realize their feelings for each other in the end of the story, and live together in AC and DC.- Tifa’s Profile, Crisis Core Ultimania, pg. 33

Cloud was happy living with Tifa, and experienced a peace with her he never had before.

(See above quotes)

Cloud left because of his feelings of guilt and Geostigma.

(See above quotes. Here’s some additional quotes)

Now running a delivery business while helping out Tifa with the newly opened “Seventh Heaven” bar, Cloud, Tifa, Marlene and Denzel lived together like a family. However, when Cloud contracts Geostigma he disappears. Behind these actions lies feelings of guilt towards his past failure to protect people who were important to him, but through his battle with Kadaj’s gang, the legacy of Jenova, he regains the courage to face reality.- FF7 10th Anniversary Ultimania,Cloud Strife profile

Because he contracted Geostigma, Cloud left Tifa and the children, and began living in the Slum church. FF7 10th Anniversary Ultimania, Timeline

Because he contracted Geostigma, he left Tifa and the children, and began living in the Slum church. FF7 10th Anniversary Ultimania, Cloud Strife Profile.

When Cloud’s Geostigma and guilt are healed, he returns to living with Tifa and the children (See above quote stating his feelings for Tifa are still constant in DC)

When he awakes, there was his friends. There were the children, freed from their fatal illness. Tifa and Marlene, and Denzel asking for Cloud to heal his Geostigma — his family were waiting. Engulfed in celebration, he realizes where he is meant to live. He realizes that he was able to forgive himself. -FF7 10th Anniversary Ultimania, pg. 131 (133 in revised edition)

With the help of his friends, he defeated Bahamut SIN, which Kadaj’s gang had summoned. He defeated Sephiroth after his Advent, and returned to Tifa and the children.- FF7 10th Anniversary Ultimania, Cloud profile, Cloud’s timeline.

At the end of a long struggle, she gently welcomes back Cloud on his return home after settling things with himself.-Tifa’s Dengeki profile.

I’d say it’s pretty clear what their relationship is.

Now some quotes from Tifa and Cloud’s Japanese voice actors.

“Tifa rarely opens up to show her weaknesses to others - although she does have some. In a sense she’s like a young girl, but she’ll do anything to protect those who are close to her.” -Ayumi Ito, Reunion Files pg. 23

Tifa is an amazing woman - emotionally tough and knows how to fight. -Ayumi Ito, Reunion Files, pg. 23

“I’m a “Tifa” man myself.” -Takahiro Sakurai, Reunion Files, pg. 14

“I did most of my recording alone, but a few times I was able to record with Ayumi Ito, who did Tifa’s voice. I’ve always been a Tifa fan, you know. One of my friends is an Aerith fan, and I’ve actually gotten into an argument with him about who the better woman is. Since she grew up with Cloud, there’s a subtle balance between her outer and inner self, I think Tifa is pretty special. I’m quite the simple man, aren’t I?” - Takahiro Sakurai, Reunion Files, pg. 14

Next, are comments in regards to Kingdom Hearts 2 from Nomura.

—”Speaking of Tifa, there’s an event after beating Sephiroth where she interacts with Cloud.”

Nomura: “In Nojima’s scenario, the connection between Cloud and Tifa was discussed more concretely, but I chose to erase that. I thought it would be more interesting for players to think about it instead. For example, with the meaning that ‘if Sephiroth is Cloud’s darkness, then Tifa is his light,’ one may take the understanding that Tifa isn’t human. It may be because Tifa isn’t human that she doesn’t talk with anyone but Sora’s group. Of course, since she was also presented in a way where she could be seen as a resident of Hollow Bastion like Cid, Aerith and the others, I think one can freely ponder that.” -pg. 724 of the Kingdom Hearts II Ultimania

Tifa As a symbol of light, like Sephiroth, it’s possible that she too was incorporeal. That last scene where she goes off to search for Cloud, you could say, is a metaphor for how Cloud’s light still hasn’t lost him, even though he’s disappeared off with his darkness, and it is trying to shine on him again… I’m pretty sure I didn’t manage to get all that across very well.–Nomura, Kingdom Hearts Character’s report Vol. 2

Phew, that was quite a lot, wasn’t it? And these are just the ones I know about! Imagine the ones I don’t know about!

#Anonymous #cloti

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giftedsupport · 5 years

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Now, I am a gregarious motherfucker. I can meet people like a champ. But meeting them a second time is the challenge. Finding people you like and hanging out with them until you’re friends is the challenge. Confiding in those friends your problems and dreams and stupid goofiness is the challenge.

... Your People are everywhere.

...Your People may be students, townies, single, married with kids, older than you think, younger than you think, churchier, anarchistier, louder, shyer, teetotalers, luddites, technocrats, knitters, blue-collar, ravers, and so many other things that you wouldn’t expect from Your People. To find them, you need to go where people are doing something you love: craft fairs, poetry readings, special screenings, exhibitions, karaoke nights, lessons in anything, churches, block sales, concerts, author book signings, fan conventions, literally anything that you would go to for fun anyway. And then you introduce yourself. A LOT. Or at least as much as you feel you can personally manage, and then talk to ONE more person than that.

“Hi! I’m Frying Pan! How did you hear about this event?” “Hi! I’m Frying Pan! I’m trying to get to know people around here; how long have you lived here?” “Hi! I’m Frying Pan! I’m looking for the best coffee in the three block area. Do you know where I could find it?” “I love [thing person is wearing]! Where did you get it?” “I’m in [neighborhood] but I’m looking to move, what’s your favorite neighborhood? What do you love about it?”

Praise. Ask advice. People fucking love to give advice. Or be snarky, if that’s your flavor of interaction. If the conversation flows, you might be friends! If the conversation stalls, you might not be, and in an emergency you can Napoleon Dynamite it out of there, and that’s okay. The thing is, your first goal is not “to make friends.” No. Your goal is “meet a lot of people.” Then if someone asks you something like “Why do you want to know?” you can answer “Just trying to meet new people.” If you say, “Just trying to make friends,” then the pressure is on! They might be friend material! Oh noes! I don’t even know if I like you yet! You aren’t friends yet, but you ARE new people who have met. SUCCESS!

They don’t have to be your friends right away. Or ever! The entire extent of your relationship may be that one meeting, or maybe they’ll introduce you to someone who will become your friend. But you are in charge of who you maintain contact with.

And when you meet new people that you like, date them. You know, friend-date them. Until you either become friends or drift apart. This process can take a very long time, but you still have your original Close Friends to support you. Heck, two of my closest friends haven’t lived in the same state as me for five years or more. The internet is a wonderful thing.

Now, I just had an illuminating talk with a dear friend of mine who, a long while back, I had given all this belonging-friend-making type advice to before. I found that at the time, she kind of resented it, and I completely get why! How DARE I say it was easy! How DARE I say that she was being narrow in her assumptions of who Her People could be! How DARE I tell her she wasn’t looking hard enough! It’s like the Friend version of the old dating saw “Well if you’d just put yourself out there.” *GAG FOREVER*

But she’s, if not thriving, doing way better now! Not because of my advice, but because she changed her outlook from big picture to small. In her own words: I changed my math-head from “I went 15 hours surrounded by people today without a soul to talk to” to something more like “who did I talk to today? Oh yes, Carolyn! She’s so nice!” Never mind that she and I spoke for maybe four minutes, or that maybe she was the only person I talked with that day. It’s not like it’s up to me to *make* every interaction positive/productive (cf “you don’t have to make it work”), but it is up to me to really love it when it is.

Lil note from me: I am only now beginning to realize how many people in the past tried to befriend me and I didn’t make a similar effort in response. I felt awkward about it, or I had Suspicions about why they wanted to be friends (because my self-esteem was so low I couldn’t figure out why they wanted to get to know me) or they seemed Too Friendly (because I’m used to being emotionally abused/neglected by my family, so that’s unconsciously what I look for in my friends). I wish now that I had responded to friendly overtures by making friendly overtures of my own. I might have more good friends now if I had!

#friends #friendship #lonely #loneliness

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bee-kathony · 6 years

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The Telegram | Casualties of War

Thank you again @jules-fraser for making this wonderful moodboard!

Response to the @thelallybrochlibrary ‘Queerlander’ prompt #13: Claire has a relationship with a female nurse during the War.

Chapter 1: Bedside Manners | Chapter 2: The Telegram

“Emily sighed, licking her lips, “A small comfort in this chaos… Claire… make me forget.” Fresh tears welled in her eyes and that was enough to make me do what I did next.“

Chapter 2: The Telegram

It had been 8 months since I’d last seen Frank. We managed to meet each other in a little village in France, close to where I had been posted. Letters were almost non-existent between us. Often times I had no idea where he was and he wasn’t exactly allowed to tell me his location. It was rather odd to be married in the war, especially since I felt like we only had just begun our lives together. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

Several months had passed since Emily and I had kissed, we both had silently agreed to not speak about it. A one time thing.

Since then we had both been promoted as Senior Nurses, both in charge of supervising the junior nurses and orderlies. I felt I had a real purpose in this bloody war. If I could help ease the pain of anyone, then I was helping in the only way I knew how.

I stood at the sink, running warm water over my hands to try and get the blood stains off. I had just helped a doctor with another leg amputation. It seemed like those were happening more often these days, amputations.

I knew I could never understand what it felt like to be missing a limb and still feel its presence but lately I had been feeling like a part of me had been amputated… taken from me, leaving me broken and in pieces.

Perhaps it was seeing Frank in every young male that had his eyes or hair colour that came rushing through the hospital doors. Or maybe it was simply the strain of the day in and day out loss that never let up.

When would this God forsaken war end? Would it ever end?

I turned off the faucet, drying my hands on the available towel hanging beside the sink and ran my hand across my forehead, pushing the stray curls out of my face. I returned to the open room that belonged to all the nurses, checking to see if everything was in order. Since I had become a Senior nurse, I now only had to share a room with one other person, Emily.

I found Emily in our room, on her bed, crying.

“Em?” Walking over to sit beside her on the bed, I noticed a tear stained telegram in her hands.

She continued crying, her eyes shut tight against the rest of the world. I reached for the telegram and it slid easily out of her hands.

“MS. EMILY HAMPTON

THE SECRETARY OF WAR DESIRES ME TO EXPRESS HIS DEEPEST REGRET THAT YOUR fiancé MAJOR HENRY JONES WAS KILLED IN ACTION ON TWENTY THIRD MAY IN FRANCE

HARRIS, THE ADJUTANT GENERAL. 5 45 PM”

The telegram was short, no more information than was necessary to convey the point the Emily’s fiancé had died.

“Oh Em,” I set the telegram aside on her nightstand and put my hand gently on her back, with one touch, she crumpled her weight against me, sobbing into my chest. Wrapping my other arm around, I held her until the shaking stopped. I held her until the sobs turned into silent tears, wetting my blouse. I held her until she was ready to speak.

“I never even got to say goodbye.” Was the first thing she said. “What if he was in pain… in the end?”

I squeezed my arms tighter around her, “He wasn’t.”

“But how do you know?,” She sniffed, wiping her hand against her nose.

“I just do. I also know that he loved you very much. The time you had with Henry… cherish that Em.” I put one hand under her chin, bringing her to look at me. “And never forget him, what he did for our Country. How brave he was…” I saw a spark of light in her eyes, distant but it was there.

“How brave you are…” I kissed the tip of her nose and she slid her arms around my waist, hanging on for dear life.

“I fear that I will wake in the morning and forget. Forget that he’s… d-dead.” Tears welled in my own eyes then, “And then when I remember, my heart will break all over again. Oh Claire! I can’t go on, I just can’t!” Emily pressed her head into my chest once again, her emotions of grief causing a wall to break in me and I held her as tears spilled down my own cheeks. For all the men who we had lost and still had yet to lose.

“It’s alright,” I whispered, to Emily as much as to myself. “It’s alright.”

We ended up laying down on her bed, our arms tangled around each others bodies. The pain of the last few hours causing both of us to be emotionally drained.

“Claire?” Emily whispered, her face just inches away from mine.

“Hmmm?” I responded, too tired for real words.

“I know it’s too soon… and it’s probably very insensitive of me but-“ I opened my eyes to find her green orbs staring straight at me, “but I feel that I very much want to kiss you.”

Emily sighed, licking her lips, “A small comfort in this chaos… Claire… make me forget.” Fresh tears welled in her eyes and that was enough to make me do what I did next.

I brought my hand to cup her cheek, red and blotchy from all the crying and closed the space between us, pressing my lips to hers.

The kiss was salty and warm as tears dripped down her face to where our mouths were joined. All parts of our bodies were touching on Emily’s twin sized mattress, our legs intertwined, our arms caressing one another’s backs.

I felt Emily push my body against hers, our breasts pressed together. She wanted more than a kiss, something that could distract her from the reality that her world had just come crumbling down.

“Claire,” she breathed, pulling apart from my mouth long enough to smile. I returned her smile and slid my hands to her waist where her blouse was tucked into her skirt. With minimal effort, I managed to untuck her shirt and then moved my hands between us and slowly undid each button.

Emily looked down at my slightly trembling hands and let out a breathy laugh. “It’s quite odd to have another woman undress you.” I undid the last button and then Emily’s fingers found my own shirt.

“Yes.” I agreed as she slid the fabric back from my shoulders. “But it also feels very good.”

I removed her shirt, letting it fall to the ground below. “Touch me,” Emily whispered, a plea, a need. My hands moved back in between us and I cupped both her breasts, feeling the hard bud of her nipples poking through her bra.

“Mmmm,” she closed her eyes and I wondered then if it was not my hands she was imagining but Henry’s.

I continued to touch and stroke her breasts over her bra but dared to take it further as I reached behind her and unhooked her bra, letting her surprisingly natural full breasts fall out. Her breasts were warm, having been tucked away all day, stuffed into the too tight bra she wore.

“Emily,” I sighed as my fingers caressed her nipples, red as cherries. Her mouth found mine, this time her tongue darting out to touch mine. “Make me forget Claire,” she moaned.

Still massaging her breast, I moved my hand down her stomach making her shiver. My hand moved down her thighs and stilled on her knee, just at the hem of her skirt. Emily moaned when my hand stopped.

“Are you sure Em?” I asked.

“Yes Claire, please,” she begged me, her lips gliding over mine.

I pinched her nipples, eliciting small cries from her as I then slid my hand up her skirt, heat radiating off her body. Her skin was soft and smooth. I let my fingers slide up and down her thigh slowly before moving it between her legs. Emily half rolled on her back and spread her legs for me.

I bent my head and kissed her neck, placing kisses along her collarbones and chest as my fingers found the spot.

“Oh Christ,” Emily moaned, one hand gripping my hair, holding me against her chest.

I began to suck on her left nipple as I moved my fingers against her wet mound. I slid my fingers up and down her slit, seeing how ready she was.

I nibbled on her breasts for awhile before finally moving my finger inside her and she cried out.

Taking that as a good sign, I slid another finger inside and placed my thumb on her clit. It was easy to pleasure her, as we had the same anatomy. Many times after I had sex with Frank and I couldn’t orgasm, I would wait until he was fast asleep and do what he could not to myself, bringing myself pleasure from my own hand.

Emily pulled on my hair, bringing my head up to hers and crushed her lips against mine. “Oh God, oh God Claire, I’m gonna cum.”

I smiled against her lips and quickened my fingers inside her, feeling her walls clench around my hand. Her legs were shaking and she was bucking her hips. “Forget Emily, it’s alright, just forget and focus on me.” I said and watched as she came undone. Her body shook and spasmed, her breasts moving in time with her fast breaths.

I couldn’t help myself as I leaned down once more and took her nipple into my mouth, swirling my tongue on that hard bud. I kept my fingers moving slowly in and out of her until I felt her body relax.

“Would you like a taste Em?” I asked, sliding my fingers out of her body and bringing them up in front of her face.

“What? Taste myself?” She gasped slightly but nodded. I placed my fingers against her mouth and she opened for me, her tongue sliding up and down my fingers. She licked her juices off my hand clean and I removed my hand and bent to kiss her.

I felt Emily’s hand sliding down my thigh but stopped her from going further. “No. It’s okay. This was about you Em.”

“But I want to return the favour.” She said, her hand trying to slide up my skirt.

“I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret…. Not so soon anyway.” I kissed her forehead and she let her hand relax back on my hip.

“I suppose you’re right. You always are Claire Randall. But I wouldn’t regret it. Not with you.” She kissed me then, softly. “Will you let me? If not now, then soon?”

I decided then and there that I would let Emily Hampton do whatever she wanted to do to my body. In this war there was often no chance of receiving comfort like this and she was willing to give it to me.

“Yes. Soon.” I kissed her back, pressing her body closer to mine and then lay my head back against the pillow, holding this sweet girl in my arms.

#queerlander #lallybroch library #prompt exchange #claire fraser #outlander #outlander fanfic #claire randall #emily hampton #original character #mclairefras #qlpromptexchange #prompt 13

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theresnosafeharbor4myships · 7 years

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It’s been a long time since I wrote and posted a Caryl fic....so here we are:

Reunited (also on 9L)

Carol woke in fits and starts. She’d never been a good sleeper, always resting with one eye open, long before everyone else learned to do the same. Naps threw off her circadian rhythm and time and space in the world, but their rest kept her alive and functioning, especially now sans her go-to of medium roast coffee.

She’d just never napped with someone before. At least never with a man. And now, after weeks—months?—of trying to maintain an emotional numbness, the warmth and security of his arms around her had her tingling as that numbness gave way to life.

Opening that door to see him—broad-shouldered, eyes haunted, torture etched on the face that graced her dreams—had sent her reeling, spinning out of control. The poison of emotions she thought she’d sufficiently buried came welling up with his presence, and hugging him had nearly broken her.

And put a stent from the abyss of her soul straight to her heart. It pounded furiously, even as tears fell forlornly down her cheeks as she invited him inside.

He’d haltingly dropped his meager belongings just inside the door and stood there awkwardly, and she watched fear, rejection, hurt, and relief wage war on his face. She’d offered him food then—she had plenty, and though she’d made her desire to be left alone infinitely clear, someone from the Kingdom brought her more every other day—which he’d declined, and her heart broke a little more at the reservation in his tone. She deserved it, she knew; knew, too, that his aching and anguished “Why’d you go?” would join the haunts of her nightmares until she drew her last breath.

She grabbed her first aid supplies from the pack she kept at-the-ready and indicated the couch. He acquiesced without hesitation, and for a moment she forgot about the cavern of space between them. It felt like the myriad of other times she’d cleaned his cuts and deep scratches and finger slices and the occasional gravel-cut from skidding off his bike.

God, she’d missed him.

She felt the breath inside her freeze, and she had to force her lungs to expel it and draw air again as she acknowledged the thought.

All this time refusing herself the luxury of dwelling on those she’d left behind—on him, more than all the others—hadn’t prepared her for the sweet torment of facing him.

She hadn’t met his eyes as she’d bandaged the wound at his shoulder, even as his gaze rested intensely on her face as she worked. The questions bubbled inside her like a witch’s brew—how’d he get shot, if everyone else was okay, who was taking care of Judith, had Tara ever made it back, was Carl healing okay?—but she let the poison sit inside, too afraid to ask him to make sense of the mess and punishing herself in the unknown. As was his way, he didn’t force conversation, content to wait her out, even as his breath hitched when she touched his skin.

Her fingers deftly worked, and she noted the new bruises and scrapes on his already-scarred body. She longed to help him heal, to brush the hurt and ease the pain away. To be with him.

But no—

She stood abruptly, finished with her ministrations, and walked across the room to the table, putting some distance between them. As if there weren’t enough already, she thought caustically.

The silence engulfed them, and she waited—for what, she didn’t know. Him to yell at her? Despise her, blame her, hate her, hit her, rail at her for all her sins?

She set the unused bandages on the table and turned back to him.

“I—”

He caught himself, but she felt strangely sure he’d nearly admitted he’d missed her. It set her on edge.

She couldn’t care. She couldn’t.

But she did. Oh so much.

“I’m tired,” he finally said.

So many things she longed to say to him, but nothing came out past the bottlenecked emotions closing her throat. He didn’t only mean sleep, but she pretended for the moment that he did.

She tilted her head toward the bedroom and walked toward it, anticipating he’d follow. Pulling back the sheet and comforter, she stepped away to make room for him.

“A bed…” he chuffed. “It’s been so long—” He broke off abruptly, not ready to talk about all the things that’d happened to him, been done to him in such a short amount of time.

He plopped down on the side of the bed and toed off his boots, his eyes darting from the floor to the nightstand to the picture on the wall just inside the door—anywhere but her. The relief at knowing she’d survived, the shards of glass piercing his battered heart, the knowledge she’d ditched them—him—and the memory of the look on her face when she’d opened the door—the shocked, relieved, heartbroken, loving look she’d given him…following all that’d happened the past few days, his emotions lay flayed and raw just under the surface, and he needed time to come to terms with her presence. One look and he knew he’d want to spill everything out, and he just wasn’t ready.

Carol moved just beyond the threshold of the room, heart aching at all he didn’t say, all she knew lay unaired between them. The blame belonged to her, for, over yet another gravesite, she’d watched him break, feared who he’d become, what he’d felt led to do because of the vile world they navigated. She didn’t want it to happen, but more than that she couldn’t watch it happen, not to him.

Careworn and weary at the unusual dis-ease between them, she let out a quiet sigh. “Rest awhile. I’ll just be in the living room.”

She turned to go, but his hand on her arm stopped her in her tracks. How did he move so quickly, so quietly? And how could his touch be so soothing and yet burn at the same time?

She wanted—needed—space between them, but he stepped up close, close enough for her to feel his exhaling breaths feathering her hair.

“Stay.”

The whisper barely reached her ears, and she wasn’t sure he’d actually said the word. But, oh, if he did…

She closed her eyes against the welling tears. Forget the trauma of her past life, when lying next to a man meant she calculated every breath. Forget the years of verbal insults and flying fists and doubting herself and her ability to wife and mother. Forget the hollowness she’d walked around with for months on end now. Erase the list of people she’d killed and the taint she carried with her and how she’d ditched him without a goodbye. That this man—who’d risked his life for her daughter, whose scars and angry façade helped hide the hurt inside, who’d saved her life on more than one occasion, who’d shared his pain with her like no other, who now forgave her with one simple word—that this man allowed her back into his heart made hers thump wildly in her chest with an ache like never before.

She hunched forward, the sweet pain both an old friend and an unwelcome guest, letting her know she was still alive.

“Carol,” he murmured, gripping her arms to steady her.

“I—” The words froze in her throat, but she leaned back toward him as he pulled her against his chest.

His breath whispered against her throat, just below her ear, and she felt him cocoon around her.

“Stay,” he murmured.

It was both a command and a question, and like the question he’d uttered on the porch, it broke her heart into a million pieces.

“We can both rest,” he entreated softly, shuffling them back toward the bed.

Though the desire to keep everyone at bay had her mind screaming for retreat, the visceral side of her followed him willingly, longing for human connection, for his presence, his touch.

She didn’t look at him as they sat on the edge of the bed, the war raging within her to walk away, to stay, to leave him be, to hold him close. She felt him move across the bed behind her, hear him shuffling the bedclothes around as he settled on the opposite side of the bed.

Silence reigned, the tension between them palpable, he waiting for her to accept his offer, she fighting to desire to give in to what they both knew had been inevitable for so long now.

“Daryl…” She steeled herself before continuing, ready to walk away from him. Again. Only this time she couldn’t sneak away. He’d watch her leave, and she didn’t know if she could put him through that.

He nearly reached out to touch her hand, sure she’d relent if he did. But he refrained; he’d let her decide on her own.

Carol’s head pounded, mimicking her heart. If she stayed now, if she let him back in, she knew walking away again would be impossible. The thought frightened her like few things had. But if she left, after he’d found her, after she knew what leaving him had felt like…could she do it again?

Life had always been fragile, but never more so than now with a vicious maniac in charge and faux-saviors doing his bidding and the dead feasting on the living. She may never have the opportunity again to lie next to the man she loved in the silence of a small house that nearly felt like a home she would’ve had in another lifetime with the man waiting patiently behind her.

She silenced the voice screaming at her to leave the room and tentatively moved further onto the bed, laying down in front of Daryl.

The tension between them eased as he moved closer to her. He pulled the sheet over them and, with a hesitant hand and a thundering heart, placed his hand on her hip.

The weight of his hand felt warm and welcoming, and she allowed herself to ease into the pillow and mattress while her mind raced for something to say.

“Rest,” he entreated softly from just behind her. “We can talk later.”

She nodded in acquiescence. Feeling his nervousness and ignoring the warning bells in her head, she placed her hand over his and drew his arm around her, snuggling further into the bed and his arms.

It took several minutes for her to relax, and as the tension left her body she felt him follow suit and heard his breathing deepen. Emotionally exhausted from the war within her, she closed her eyes and sighed, trying desperately to hold on to the content feeling he’d roused in her. “I missed you,” she murmured, unable to hold the sentiment inside any longer.

He hummed a response, already drifting off to sleep.

#caryl #caryl fanfic #daryl x carol #carol x daryl #caryl fanfiction #my writing #personal

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