#i have a feeling el is going to understand in will's case in contrast to her and mike's argument

[chirpsythismorning]

Thinking about the what if El was never interested in Mike romantically, she just assumed she was discourse on the tag today and how it's very possible what could make El fully realize this, is when in s5 she see's Will's love for Mike in real time, for the first time, and she's just like damn! That is not me!

#byler #no but arguably that already happened.. #remember that! you're the heart #el listening: you're the what now?? im sorry but that's corny as hell. could not be me! #i feel like this could be how el confronts will in s5 about lying to mike #i think it's interesting they had that talk with will and el about her lying to him with will calling her out #if to not circle back to it in some way for her to be like hypocrite much? #tho i doubt that's how it would happen #i have a feeling el is going to understand in will's case in contrast to her and mike's argument #like will and el are siblings so yeah they fight #but i just get the feeling she's going to sense something is up with them (already does) #and something big will happen and i feel like she's going to see the truth before they're able to #and i think will is probably going to realize last because he really does not think it could ever happen now #and also because of el i think will would feel like its wrong unless he was confident she would be okay with it #so i could totally see will not allowing himself to be happy in that sense even if he realized mike could return his feelings #but by then mike's already made his peace with el and they're good #UGHHGHHG s5 arrive now! #no but isn't it kind of side eye that they've never shown us el be confronted with mike and wills friendship at all? #like in s1 and s3 at the end Mike mentions will in his plans with el #and that's about where it ends #we have not seen her exposed to their dynamic and like reacting to it before #UNTIL THE END OF S4!!!

[dinitride-art]

Lighting and Mike and Will and El - Full Analysis (Pt. 20)

The bath, making the pizza, and bribing Surfer Boy Pizza Employee’s. And Argyle. 

S4:E9 - Preparations (Fire and water)

Shot of the Pizza van rolling up. Argyle is driving which is a little different than usual. Jonathan has been the one in the driver’s seat for the majority of finding El. The last time that Argyle was driving was (I think) before they buried the body. We got an odd sort of understanding between Argyle and El at the gas station so this might be telling us that Argyle’s helping drive the narrative here.

But also he’s driving the narrative by taking them to a location where El’s plan will work. 

Argyle is in center frame, right below the ‘pizza’ in the van logo. 

This angle is also telling us that Argyle is leading us. It’s framed in a way that we only see Argyle and Surfer Boy Pizza. 

The way that they’re standing here is indicating something as well. El and Argyle are standing in front of Jonathan, Mike and Will. El and Argyle are still sharing our focus. 

Other things here include Mike’s shirt pocket pointing in the direction of Will and El. 

Then they enter the store. Mike and Will are still sticking close to each other, and Argyle is front and center. Argyle’s owl pendent is also clearly in shot. Mike’s shirt pocket is pointing to Will but also to everyone else as well. 

Surfer Boy Pizza being yellow and red is also a very interesting choice. Red can be anger/romantic feeling/very strong feelings and yellow can mean friendship/loyalty/deceit. Red and yellow are two colours that could represent El and Will. But also the implications of friendship vs. romantic love are interesting in this episode and the themes that have followed Mike, Will and El in this season. 

El and Will are in the line behind Mike, Jonathan and Argyle. They’re both in front of lights. Will and El are in the same position and that’s important. If we were just supposed to see El singled out, then we would. Will is probably here because it’s in line with the rest of the season. Dustin said, “we need Will,” after seeing Max’s drawings. And there are more things in this episode (this episode is so long. It can fit so many analysis’ in it.) that suggest Will both has importance to the plot and similarities to El and Henry. 

Also, Mike’s face is cast in a different light than the rest of the group. It’s a bit different than we’ve seen with Will, who tends to take on more whimsical/angelic light. Mike’s lighting here is red. It draws our focus over to him slightly but also could be indicating a warning of sorts. 

This close up of Argyle gives us juxtaposition (contrast- I didn’t know what this word meant until a few months ago so I’m putting this here in case anyone’s experiencing the same, “what the hell does that shit mean” moment I had.) between Argyle’s demeanor and Will and El’s.

Argyle is lit normally. His expression is non-threatening. The same cannot be said for El and Will. Will has a red light cast on half his face and the other half is somewhat shaded. El has the same lighting, but a little more shadow than light. Compared to Argyle, they look very intimidating. 

Argyle and El’s reactions sort of mirror each other here. As Argyle’s expression gets more tense, El crosses her arms. They seem to have similar ideas about the situation. 

Then Jonathan jumps in and saves the situation. “Purple palm tree delight, makes all your worries go away,” or something like that, I’m paraphrasing, is how Jonathan describes the weed he’s bribing the employee with. When we zoom in on Jonathan, it’s in front of El. That’s a bit odd. 

It could be comparing Jonathan using weed as a coping mechanism for anxiety to Mike wanting to stay in a relationship with El as a sort of safety measure. I’m not really sure on the meaning, but the way this is framed seems like it means something. 

They’re in. 

Mike and Will have created distance between themselves again- but what I think is weird here is that Argyle walks to the freezer with Mike pretty close behind him but-

Mike is behind El in this shot. El and Will are grouped together again. The blue light from the pizza freezer is very similar to the lighting in the Creel house with Lucas, Max and Erica. 

They move the freezer away from the blue light and into the middle of the room. 

Then we get this. Will turns the tap on to a red hose, that Mike uses to fill the freezer with water next to the red exit sign. Will is next to all the pizza ingredients that they took from the freezer. 

And Mike’s shirt pocket is pointing towards the exit. 

And then we zoom in on Will looking at Mike. The light behind him is glowing with an unnecessary brightness and the soft light has once again returned to Will. 

The red next to Will’s head from the exit sign? Very interesting considering that’s where Mike’s shirt pocket was pointing. But it could also just be a reflection. 

The Mike grabs the sunglasses from the van. We follow Mike while he does this. He’s still impacting the narration- which is probably why we saw Will like that. 

However, perspective and lighting aside, Mike grabbing the sunglasses in particular shows how Mike thinks he needs to help El. He’s giving her something so that she won’t see what’s going on around her- both in  regards to the bath and in their relationship. 

It’s a neat metaphor for Mike trying to hide things from El. 

And then right after we see Argyle making the pizza. 

Jonathan pours salt into the bath that reflects blue light in the water. Again  that connects it to the Creel house and possibly to Mike. Blue is also a colour associated with calmness and depression (in western interpretations and media at least- same for red and yellow.) I’ve been calling it the “I aM in MisErY” colour in my head for the past week or so. 

It’s cool that Jonathan is shown using a knife to cut open the bag of salt because in season three, in order to save El (or at least try to- I think she might have had to pull it out herself), he had to cut open her leg. 

And then Argyle is putting the pizza in the oven.

And he turns on the fire. This contrasts Will turning on the water for Mike to fill up the freezer. Mike’s shirt pocket pointing to the explosion and then to the ice is also interesting considering this. Mike and Will seem to be on the same side, which seems to be the cool off side. But Argyle and El? Fire and pineapple pizza.

... Mike and Will are trying to put out the fire. (sometimes I just sit here with the same feeling I had when I saw that fucking disco ball behind Will’s head and I think. This can’t be real. Same with the heart in Will’s eye. And another one that we haven't gotten to yet.)

The emphasis on Argyle turning on the oven/the fire, foreshadows what happens in the potential break up scene. El and Argyle made a deal. But it’s one that I don’t think is over yet. Even after this episode. 

This shot of the Creel house is just to show the blue light. Blue seems to be an indicator of something bad happening. It’s present in all three narrative arcs, even in Joyce, Murray and Hopper’s arc they’ve got blue. Joyce and Hopper have those blue, white and red jackets, which are quite similar to El’s colour pallet this season. 

Blue possibly being connected to Mike could be saying that the plan didn’t work because of Mike’s monologue. But it could also be that there was too much blue and not enough yellow and red. All hands were not on deck the way they should’ve been. But I also don’t really know on this one. It’s there and it obviously means something, otherwise it wouldn’t literally light up an entire house. 

But now everything is in place for the rest of this episode to play out. Argyle and El’s alliance, the pizza is made, Mike and Will are shifting away again, the bath is ready, the blue light is on. It’s the calm before the storm. 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 (to be edited)

#byler #byler theory #st argyle #the lights #stranger things #i think i need to look more into argyle #i know that he knows things #but i havent done any serious thought about what hes said and what hes done #but anyways #ive got pictures to collect #im on a roll #its like when i first did like six of these in one or two days #granted they were shorter #but still #ive recovered from the scripts #ive always liked visuals more anyways

[will80sbyers]

I think Vecna kidnapped Will because he was similar to him and kept him alive for the same reason.

Will also weirdly survives everytime something happens to him which brings up the question, why and how if Will doesn't have something specific Vecna wants. Like isnt it strange that Will keeps surviving every shitty supernatural thing that happened to him? Barb died the moment the Demogorgon got her, she was killed without any remorse while Will survived a week in the UD which was shown to be very strange and forced the audience to question that event when S4 came and a group of teenagers barely survived a couple of hours in the UD even when they were prepared for it and had all the necessary equipment and weapons, like they were shaken pretty hard. Eddie died a gruesome death and others barely managed to make out alive.

He also survived the MF... how? Billy experienced the same thing and got possessed by the Mind Flayer and he died instantly when the MF didn't need him anymore. Billy also had a moment where he managed to fight against the MF/Vecna when he remembered the memory of his mother. But when he managed to fight against the MF/Vecna, he was killed without any remorse. Will also had the same moment where Joyce, Mike and Jonathan reminded Will of his memories to break the possession and it worked. But the MF/Vecna didn't kill him again. How and why?

In S3 he again survives despite having a connection to MF? Why wouldn't Vecna/MF try to kill Will if Will can literally track the MF and understand that he's back to possess someone else again and Will informed the others about it? It was clearly a weakness against MF/Vecna's plans, so, why wouldn't he want to kill Will to stop him from informing others?

It's weird because Will is the only one who experienced worst case of scenarios like these and managed to survive every time and it draws a clear contrast to how Vecna's all of the victims died without any remorse whatsover. This man butchered his entire family, killed kids at the lab and is hunting teenagers without a blink of an eye. He even tried to kill Eleven when she refused to join him and if she wasn't strong enough she would have been dead by now. Only she was lucky and strong to send Henry to another dimension but she still was pretty shaken and ended up in a coma. So why and how Will survives Vecna all the time? The only answer is that Vecna must really want something from him that he just doesn't want to kill Will.

The only thing that makes to me is that Will has powers that Vecna wants but wouldn't he have already taken Will's powers when he was in the Upside Down or when he possessed him? And then he could have killed him at any time after he got Will's powers. So i don't think it has something to do with Will having powers because Vecna could have already stolen Will's powers before and he could have killed him at any time.

Is it because Will is just too similar to him that Vecna doesn't want to kill him? But was it really worth the risk to let Will go like that especially in S3 when Will was informing people about the return of MF? Why would Vecna want to risk his plan like that, it doesn't make sense to me.

I don't think he would keep him alive only because he's similar to him, that would be a bit of a stupid choice from the writers imo I think he definitely needs Will to be alive for some reason but I don't know exactly why...

the only thing I can think of is that Will has some kind of powers that he wants to use, maybe he blocked his powers with the Soteria chip that he had (because Henry picked up the chip in his hands after El removed it from him... so he could still have it potentially, it could have been in one of his pockets when he was sent to the UD and he kept it) so he doesn't have to worry about Will learning how to use his own powers and using them against him... maybe that's part of why Will feels Vecna in his neck where the chip was, because Vecna put it there when he kidnapped him the first time (?)

I don't know really we will have to wait for season 5

#byler #will byers #mike wheeler #ask #st5 theory

[hawkinsschoolcounselor]

I’m gonna preface this by saying that I hope Byler doesn’t end up being canon, and in my opinion they’re taking the route that Will is going to confess, and Mike will friendzone him as he doesn’t feel the same way. I want Mileven to be together as it’ll make me happy. Hope I’m not being aggressive.

Anyway. I don’t really understand what Duffers are trying to accomplish in the story now. They are making sure that we know Will is gay without stating it at this point. They are giving us Byler scenes that contain typical romance movie tropes. They are subtly trying to hint there’s a possibility that Mike isn’t in love with El. So what’s the point? Why are they basically going to have Mike reject Will and say he loves El? Why would you make it look like a story is going a certain direction (Byler + Single El) then proceed to make the opposite happen (Mileven + Single Will) in just few seconds?

Then them having Mike say in season 2 that asking Will to be his friend is the best thing he’s ever done (Not meeting the girl he’s in love with lmao), then in season 3 saying that she’s the most important thing to him in the world (I can’t believe what he said in the shed has changed and now that he became closer to El some memory with her replaced meeting Will?? I highly doubt that and if that was the case I’d laugh).

This semi-love triangle in general is confusing. Though they don’t know the fate of characters or what will happen, there’s copious amounts of Byler content on the various Netflix social media - to the point you can easily forget about the existence of Mileven - which there’s barely any mention of.

I don’t trust Duffers at all it just gives off bait vibes.

You're not being aggressive at all. I appreciate how you've respectfully addressed this with me considering you probably know my stance on who Mike should be with.

The only reason I could see for them to go with this love triangle is to compare and contrast the relationships. Sorry to say, but Mike and El just bring out the worst in each other. They rushed into a relationship based on one week together and one year apart, a year in which they built up fantasy versions of each other in their minds. When they finally did get together, they just didn't work. They don't know each other, they have nothing in common, and they lie to each other. Mike and Will bring out the best in each other, though. They do know each other, they have things in common, and they're (mostly) honest with each other.

I can't see any reason for them to set the narrative up like this if they didn't want us to compare how Mike is with both of them, as well as how both of them are with him. El was happier in season 3 when they were apart, and she showed more character (and personal) development. Much the same is happening now, as she hasn't really thought about him since she left, instead learning more about her past and probably finding closure with Brenner. Will is miserable when distanced from Mike, which makes sense when you realize they've known each other since kindergarten.

It would make no sense for Mike to reject Will. It does nothing for either of their stories, and, in fact, takes away all that Will (currently) has left in terms of a place on the show. It makes all the buildup for Will and Mike since season 1. Meanwhile, Mike and El got their buildup during season 2. They're no longer in that phase. We got to see them together, and it's just not good. It makes no sense for Mike and El to magically repair their problems, for Mike to magically be able to tell El he loves her and for El to no longer cling to him or lie to him.

There's no outcome for this that makes us both happy, I'm afraid, but this is the situation the Duffers have written. To me, there's only one outcome that makes sense with what they've set up. El is going to grow as a person, accepting her good and her bad, and realize that she was using Mike as a security blanket that she no longer needs. Mike is going to realize that he was in a forced relationship that started for the wrong reasons, just like his parents. Will is going to get the courage to tell Mike how he really feels. I suppose Mike could still reject Will and we can all be mad together, but that still makes his entire story a waste, in my opinion.

#stranger things 4

[ladyfromaspookyforest]

ST Season 2 Wardrobe Analysis

Eleven & Hopper

If you have not read my analyses for season 1, the first one can be found here, but the gist of it is:

El has yet to figure out who she is as a person and spent season 1 trying on the clothes of other people like she was trying on their lives.

Pink and blue are colors used together to show the expected and the "normal," showing up profusely in the Wheeler household and wardrobe.

FLASHBACKS

To start off, this flashback from episode 3 presents us with general trends we're going to see for each character. Hopper in a plaid flannel and El with layering. It's also pretty clear that El's wearing whatever she's been given. This being very early on in her stay with Hopper, the clothes have no character at all. They don't even have color. They are absolutely void of personality.

We see El wearing a white thermal in another flashback, something else that will become a trend, so I love seeing its origin here. Hopper's shirt is abnormally plain. He tends to wear plaids, pretty much whenever he's out of uniform. I actually struggled with why he's in solid red, so to help answer that, I hunted for the song playing in the background. And I was disgusted to find that it is "Papa" from the season 1 soundtrack, which plays during this scene:

I hate that. It does sound like a slightly different version of the track with a little less distortion, but this is supposed to be about clothes. So El is experiencing this flashback after finding out her mother is alive and in the scene, Hopper is telling El her mother is "gone." I don't think Hopper's dishonesty (that isn't even technically a lie) and Brenner's horrific behavior in the above scene can be even remotely compared, but El is feeling lonely and sorrowful in both sequences and is being offered the wrong kind of comfort by a father figure. So coming back around to the red shirt, this is the first "red flag" in their relationship. It's the moment Hopper chooses not to be honest, and a lot of the struggle between them later stems from this. And this red flag imagery isn't only in the shirt. It's the lighting.

EPISODE 1

On to the present day. I'm going to come back to El's look here later, so I'm not going to say much now, just that this outfit is once again lacking color or prints.

EPISODE 2

I'm getting sidetracked again, but I just want to shout out the cinematography for a second. Utilizing the same camera placement really emphasizes the mundanity, the feeling of doing the same thing over and over again with no change (EACH LIFE A FADED LESSER COPY OF THE ONE BEFORE), that El has been feeling. Okay, I was joking with that quote, but I could write a whole analysis about how that's exactly how El was feeling here.

El's finally wearing some color and print, but continuing the pattern from season 1 (dressing like the people around her), she's now dressed just like Hopper. They're both in jeans and flannel in brown, beige, blue, and orange/red. I find the above screenshot of them at the table together interesting because Hopper's navy shirt heavily contrasts him against the walls while El blends in more. The curtains behind her even contain the same shades of orange and blue as her shirt. She appears to be fading (*cough* each day a faded lesser copy) into Hopper's house, which is precisely how she feels. Hopper, on the other hand, matches his home but isn't part of the woodwork.

EPISODE 3

Remember the pink and blue thing I said? This blanket really sticks out in this cabin. El is sleeping with a pink(?) stuffed rabbit(?) as well. There's no way to really know if Hopper bought these things for El or if they were Sara's, so I'll look at it both ways.

They were Sara's: if these were once Sara's belongings, this is yet another example of El trying on other people's lives. In this case, she is trying on the role of Hopper's daughter, but they haven't actually come to an understanding yet, so this still feels like a role she's playing and not a genuine part of her identity.

They're new: if Hopper bought these things for El, this is an indication that he doesn't understand or know her yet. It shows the lack of communication in their current relationship.

Either way, these items feel like dressing. They stick out in the house. Them being in nuclear family coloring shows that Hopper is trying to insert his old understanding of family into this new situation rather than trying to work out something fresh with El.

El is wearing a dainty pastel floral print on her pj thermal, which fits in with the bedding. But then she gets dressed for the day.

And what I love about this is that she didn't change her clothes. She just put this very boyish t-shirt on top of the floral top (that she slept in). This is a trend we'll see her repeat. She spends the episode adding layers. The thermals, as I mentioned before, are fairly common for her. They feel like a truly EL piece of clothing (and this may be a season 2 analysis, but just think about the last shot of her from season 4: alone, determined, all layers but the thermal shed). But she stacks other things on top of the thermals all the time. The t-shirt and then a plaid jacket (plaid being an element of Hopper) that show that she's covering herself by emulating other people or by bending herself to their expectations or desires.

EPISODE 4

DO YOU SEE WHAT I SEE?????

She's wearing a tiny-floral-printed thermal under a blue v-neck under a flannel. In S2E4 El makes the decision to hunt down her mom, setting out on her own, making a huge life-changing decision for herself. Acting with agency and leaving behind her father figure. In S4E3, she makes another huge decision, this time to get her powers back, leaving Mike behind. And in S4E7, she leaves NINA to save her friends against Brenner's advisement, taking agency again and leaving behind a father figure again. And the season 4 outfit resembles this one from season 2 remarkably.

*Side note that this is the same flannel from episode 2

EPISODE 5

El goes to find her mom in episode 5. She is wearing the same outfit she wore in episode 1, plus the flannel from episodes 2 and 4. Plus the jacket from episode 3. What this tells us is that El doesn't have a lot of clothes. Or maybe that El doesn't care about her clothes. Or that El has a few items of clothes she likes a lot and clings to. I think it's likely a combination of all of that. She came from the lab where she never had a variety and never got to choose. I think the way she mixes and matches a few items is her trying different things on a very small scale, but she's also drawing inspiration from the only person around her.

When she goes to find her mother, Becky is notably wearing the Colors of Conformity. She was pretty disbelieving in season 1 when Joyce and Hopper came to visit, but this time around, she is actually willing to listen to El. However, she is not fully trusting and calls the Hawkins PD to let them know El is there, causing El to run off. Her use of this color palette feels like a way of telling us that Becky is trying to force herself into normalcy despite the circumstances she is living with.

EPISODE 7

The makeover episode. This is yet another example of El getting dressed up in somebody else's clothes. Kali tries to bring El into her group, something El is initially interested in. She feels like she's been repeatedly set aside, lied to, and ignored, so she is naturally drawn to this idea of community. But joining the group means changing herself, which she tries to do (visually demonstrated via makeover), but ultimately decides against.

EPISODE 9

Hopper has been wearing scrubs since episode 6. But for the finale, he changes into jeans and puts on his Hawkins PD jacket (over the scrubs shirt). This is a jumble of everything he's worn all season: his own clothes, the scrubs, and the uniform. He has been struggling with juggling the various aspects of his life all season. He has his job, then he has the lab, and he has his home life. All of these are kept separate. At the lab, he has the Joyce and Will part of his life. At home, he has the El part of his life. And at work, all of that is a secret. But with his relationship with El out in the open and her returning to the lab with him, these separate identities he's been trying to maintain finally get to mesh.

Remember me making a whole thing out of the red shirt earlier? Lol imagine me when I got to the end and saw him wearing solid red again. Losing it. Don't worry, Papa isn't playing, but hey, how 'bout that line, "Congratulations, Pops?" While this is definitely a positive, feel-good scene versus the rather sad one before, both are turning points in the Hopper-El relationship. What we saw before was the start of dishonesty and what we're seeing here is the introduction of legitimacy. Do I actually think these two scenes are being compared intentionally by using red shirts? No, not really. But that's where my brain is.

Another connection I made that is very unlikely to have been intentional is the v-neck. That's not something we've seen him wear before, except:

And Hopper was, likely without even realizing it, rather parental towards Will during the lab scenes. Not in terms of making decisions or imposing, but by the care and support he offered. Plus, if we return to his wacky combo outfit from earlier, the v-neck sweater really is something of a combination between his usual wardrobe and the scrubs. So that blend of his worlds stuck.

I feel like it sounds like I'm mega-stretching here, but this is just my read, not necessarily what I think the wardrobe department decided. And I'm feeling compelled to defend that.

I talked a little about this dress when I discussed Mike's Snow Ball outfit. The grey of her dress matches his sweater and the red of her belt/polka dots matches his tie. Them matching one another is a very simple way of showing that they are focused on each other.

I am dying to know who picked this dress out, though. Where did it come from? Who shopped for it? Hopper? Or is this like when he had someone else go buy a shirt for him in season 3? I'm just...so curious. What we DO know is that it wasn't El because Hopper had to convince Owens to let her out for this one night. She was not on a dress shopping spree. So as we come to the conclusion of season 2, we have still not seen El's own sense of style. I do think her hair here is really interesting. It's similar to the way Kali and co had it slicked back, but it's curly too. It's her hairstyles from season 2 (flashback hair excluded) combined.

This is Hopper's second outfit since he reunited with El and also does not contain any plaid. If I hadn't already seen season 4, I'd guess that this meant that the plaid signified his single loner-in-the-woods era and now that it's over, he isn't wearing flannels anymore. However, his season 4 finale look contained one, so I'm full of shit I guess. Can't win 'em all. I have no other hypotheses about this outfit.

Other Season 2 Wardrobe Analyses: Mike & Will Nancy, Jonathan, & Steve Lucas, Max, & Dustin

#el hopper #jane hopper #jim hopper #stranger things wardrobe analysis #st season 2 #my dumbass post #stranger things 2

[isfjmel-phleg]

Disclaimer: I'm about to discuss contrasting portrayals of CSA in Superboy 1994 and Titans 1999. I will not get graphic, and I will not include panels depicting such things (although I may briefly describe what happens), although there will be panels discussing it. But it is a weighty topic, and I will be primarily addressing portrayals of the victims' responses, the responses of the adults around them, and how the narrative treats the subject. You have been warned.

Kon-El and Grant Emerson are both victims of CSA. They are both subjects of unethical genetic experimentation who have had their rights to autonomy and a safe, normal childhood taken away. They were both created to be weapons in the hands of unscrupulous people. They have both been abused by people whom they trusted and looked to for guidance. The exact ways that they cope with these things differs, but they're both deeply hurt and frustrated by these circumstances. There are a lot of thematic similarities, but their stories play out in very different ways, specifically in how their narratives address the CSA. Buckle up, this is a long one.

There's a lot of CSA in Kon's solo, but I'm going to look specifically at his experiences with the villain Knockout, which is the one case of abuse in his life that does get sort of almost addressed as such. The supervillain Knockout is established early in the series as seeking to prey on Kon, who is physically about fifteen/sixteen and chronologically less than a year old. She sees him on TV and comments that he's "cute--in a jailbait sort of way," and she starts antagonizing him. Her fights with him are full of blatant innuendo and forcible kissing, which gets more extreme once she claims to have reformed and sets herself up as a mentor to him. Which begins a story arc titled (significantly) "Losin' It."

Kon is very young, affection-starved, hormonal, and ready to believe the best of everyone, so he's quick to excuse Knockout's behavior even as it becomes more questionable. The adults in his life don't do anything to protect him. His girlfriend Tana (who's also a predator, but that's another story) is suspicious out of jealousy and tries to interfere, but he won't listen. Knockout gradually puts him in more and more sexually charged situations until she gets him alone for "the final lesson." It's ambiguous how far she goes, but she definitely does at least try to assault him multiple times. He finally realizes what she is when he sees her commit murder and ask him to do the same. He's able to bring her to justice (for murder but not, apparently, for the assault), but the events leave him understandably shaken, and he goes off alone to process it.

(Superboy 1994 #30)

This would have been a helpful time for Superman to show up. Or even Dubbilex, the telepathic D.N.Alien from Cadmus who is the closest thing to a father figure Kon has at this point. But the one who comes and finds him is Roxy Leech, daughter of his exploitative manager, who is among the adult women who have shown romantic interest in Kon. He considers her a friend and tries to open up about his feelings. And here's where the title of the arc shows its multiple meanings.

"I lost somethin' I don't think I'll ever get back." He goes on to identify this "somethin'" as his faith in humanity, but that's not all he's lost. He's been abused, he's trying to process it, and he blames himself.

And how does Roxy respond to this boy's obliquely admitting to her that he's been abused?

She hits him. She intends it playfully, but look at his face. He does not appreciate this. Especially since Knockout was frequently "playfully" violent with him. Not only this, but Roxy proceeds to invalidate his feelings and basically inform him that he's not allowed to be "grim an' gritty," even if he's just been through the worst experience of his short life. He's supposed to be happy and positive!

She then follows it up with some very trite advice (the 90s was obsessed with "believing in yourself") that frames him as the one who did wrong but can be redeemed if he gets his act together. Kon accepts this and goes on his way seemingly happy again, but also having internalized that what happened to him was his fault. The narrative can recognize that Knockout was predatory, but it still blames Kon for his susceptibility to her.

Much, much later, he gets the chance to confront Knockout in prison. He calls her out for trying to kill him and get him to kill, but he makes no mention of the abuse. Nevertheless, he's still hoping to convince her to reform.

(Superboy 1994 #69)

She reuses her old manipulative tactics, but he is able to see through them and fight back.

His friend Serling tries to get involved. Knockout can't do anything to hurt either of them, but she's still screaming threats as they leave.

Serling is more understanding than Roxy when Kon opens up to her and has some insightful comments from her own experience. She assures him that it's not his job to change Knockout, but there's not much she can do to help him as a teenager herself, and still the abuse goes unacknowledged.

The issue is never directly addressed again, although Knockout does show up in a nightmare he has in #92. She appears alongside Serling and some other girls/women he knows, who are saying, "Let's do things to his body!" "Illegal things," Knockout adds. So there's an implication that on some level he comes to understand that what happened to him was wrong, but that's as far as it goes. And he never does seem to realize that Tana preyed on him either. The narrative can't accept that any of this was sexual abuse, so neither can Kon.

Meanwhile, Grant's abuse occurs in a different context.

We don't see a lot of Grant's relationship with the people he grew up believing were his parents. Rule #4 of his "Emerson System" strongly suggests that they are emotionally neglectful at the very least: "Never tell your parents what's really happening with you. If it's good, they won't get why. If it's bad, they can't handle it."

(Damage 1994 #1)

John Emerson tries to gaslight his foster son when Grant brings up his new powers, and when Grant lashes out at him in frustration (which, judging from the Emersons' reactions, isn't normal behavior for him), he is verbally severe. Afterward Grant berates himself for this "major mistake."

The Emersons, without the slightest remorse, report Grant to the lab that experimented on him, manipulate his concern for them to lure him there, and use a false promise of affection to try to put a device on him that will neutralize his powers. Having outlived their usefulness, they are then shot in front of him. A traumatized Grant will come to find out that they were not his real parents, and he questions whether they ever really loved him.

(Damage 1994 #9)

John Emerson's brother Neal, whom Grant calls uncle, can't tell him why his foster parents were like that, but he does reveal that he and John were physically abused by their father.

Neal also happens to be supervillain Dr. Polaris, so there's that too. Much later, during Grant's second stint with the Titans, he is called upon to testify at Neal Emerson's trial. He seems reluctant to go and makes some cryptic remarks.

(Titans 1999 #17)

He comes back distraught but unwilling to talk. His teammate Roy Harper, who has been trying to mentor him to make up for their clashes the last time they worked together, is concerned about him and insists on taking him on a camping trip with his daughter Lian.

Roy tells some stories about his father figure Oliver Queen, and when Grant expresses envy for such a family, Roy admits that it wasn't always great--but he doesn't have to tell Grant how that is, does he? Grant initially tries to stay distant but gradually opens up--and reveals that his foster father physically and sexually abused him.

Roy is of course horrified. The intense emotion sets off Grant's powers, and he comes dangerously close to exploding. Instead, he breaks down in tears.

Note the tag line on the cover of the following issue, in which this plotline continues. (The people pictured around him include his real father on the bottom right plus members of the JSA whose DNA he shares.)

Grant is repeatedly apologetic, but Roy tells him he doesn't need to be sorry, and he expresses sympathy and acknowledges the abuse for what it is. Lian follows her father's compassionate example.

(Titans 1999 #18)

But Grant is having a hard time processing that the abuse wasn't his fault and expresses mixed shame and anger.

Roy urges him to continue to express himself, and Grant yells out everything he wishes he could have told his foster father about how he treated the scared, trusting child in his care.

Lian doesn't fully understand what's going on because it's not on her age level, but she does know that someone treated Grant badly, and she has a significant question.

Grant and Roy together come to the decision that the best thing for Grant now will be to take a break from being Damage and stay for a while at the Navajo reservation where Roy grew up. He needs a secluded, peaceful place where he can concentrate on healing.

(Titans 1999 #19)

He remains there for the rest of the series, although he makes a few later appearances, in which it's evident that he's still struggling. But he's in a place where he has support, and the Titans do seem to still keep in contact with him.

Something like this is what should have happened for Kon. Grant's abuse is acknowledged, his emotions are validated and allowed to be expressed, the adults around him are sympathetic and supportive, and his healing is prioritized. Why does this not occur for Kon?

Well, Doylist reasons. Kon was the star of his own popular solo, and the readers expected rollicking adventures, not a hero who takes time off to address his mental health. Meanwhile, Grant was a supporting character in a team book that was more concentrated on his adult teammates, and sending him away was a way to free up a new slot on the team for variety.

But an in-universe reason? The boys are in different living situations. Grant is part of a team that includes at least one adult who is actively invested in his wellbeing and sees him as a person, not a commodity. But Kon is stuck in one exploitative situation after another, and the abuse has been so normalized that he can't even recognize it as wrong--unlike Grant, who knows how families should be even if he never had that experience.

How would things have gone if Kon had let anything about the Knockout situation slip to, say, Clark? Would he have reacted in shock and taken steps to protect Kon? Hard to say, unfortunately. He knows that Kon is dating an adult and doesn't seem at all concerned about that (although in the Sins of Youth storyline when he and Kon reverse ages, Clark freaks out when he realizes that he's now a teenager married to an adult and he tells Kon that he and Lois wouldn't be able to make that work like Kon and Tana...yikes).

Or what if Kon had told a friend around his own age? Tim, for instance, is aware that there are women who prey on Kon thanks to a run-in with Poison Ivy when the two boys first meet, but Tim's reaction to this is not concern but blaming Kon for the problem--despite the fact that in this case he was under mind control. Is that perhaps the real difference in how these cases of abuse are treated? Grant's abuse is portrayed as such because it's easy to recognize as wrong in a family setting. But Kon's abuse isn't seen as abuse because it occurs in a romantic relationship and thus, as a male, he allegedly "wanted it" and invited it.

Which, quite frankly, is pretty messed up and no way to respond to SA.

#comicsposting again #KE: all I got is who I am #GE: what I do is who I am

[wheelercore]

I feel like much of the wheeler family's issues stems from Karen and Ted never actually loving each other yet marrying and having children out of obligation and convenience. It really isn't enough to just pretend because the cracks start to show eventually. I mean, from personal experience as someone who had parents who didn't really love each other it's so familiar that I honestly applaude the writers for capturing it so well. There's that build up of resentment + the pressure to pretend for who knows how long that causes people to act in such a way that is pretty unhealthy.

It's realistic that Nancy and Mike kind of have this distant yet caring relationship. It's hard after years of growing up in such an environment to be emotionally vulnerable like in the way Jonathan is with Will and vise versa. It can be even painful at some points to show that you care because there is a lot of history of rejection and fear there whether it was directly influenced by a parental figure or not. And really when you grow up in an household where everything can be okay at one moment and then the emotions can turn sour at a drop of a hat you start to find comfort in being apathetic, snarky, dismissive, and lashing out. You are, after all, just protecting yourself because all your life your feelings either have been dismissed, laughed at, ignored, or, worst of all, used against you. But you do badly want a relationship like Jonathan and Will's with your siblings. It's just hard to get over that initial reaction of defensiveness and fear.

It's super interesting that we see Karen try so hard to be there for her kids though. She often is there to comfort them. What gets in her way however is that Nancy and Mike themselves often hesitate to open up to her. She gives them momentary comfort, yes, but we rarely ever see them actually tell her about their problems, opening up for a deeper emotional connection. Karen could do much more, but really there is only so much you can do when your children chose not to reciprocate without unintentionally driving them away.

I believe this is intrinsically tied to Karen's own arc of independence. The 80s was a time of sexual revolution (Billy) and a feminist wave. And I love m*leven parallels and I do genuinely believe El and Karen are meant to parallel each other in very similar ways: they're realizing that they don't need their respective partners anymore to get on. Rather than like in s1 letting Ted just tell her to "let [Mike] go" she is going to now try harder to contect emotionally to her children and understand them.

And because we consistently see Karen at least try (even in s1) I do believe the source of a lot of the Wheelers emotional dysfunction is Ted. He's emotionally unavailable but with a veneer of comic relief 80s dad on top of it. It makes it quirky and funny in the stereotype of the useless lazy oblivious dad way. But really, when children don't have good emotional coping skills modeled to them growing up they may have a stunted ability to process or be open with how they feel- which is definitely the case with Mike and Nancy. We see the real effects of Ted's emotional neglect on his children contrasted with how Ted is presented showing how often these cliches that we take for granted are actually harmful in real life- which in turn *gestures vaguely at all the Mike-Ted parallels in s3 and s4* give us insight into Ted himself because they clearly want us to see Mike is similarly perpetuating the cycle under certain stressors in his life ("I don't think my parents ever loved each other" contrasted with Mike struggling to tell El her loves her because he doesn't).

#honestly at this point im just going to assume that they want me to think that whatever is wrong with mike is also wrong with ted #so... depression? *looks at them* checks out these bitches are depressed #its a nice subversion on the 80s dad cliche ill tell you thatt #i so badly want to explore mike-ted parallels more bc they fascinate me beyond reason #but i shall wait for s5 bc thats when ill be fed #mike wheeler #stranger things #karen wheeler #nancy wheeler #ted wheeler

[rodpupo7]

Reflection of the day: 28/03/22 - 31/03/22: Project Pictoplasma

This Monday, we had to show our characters to the professor, and show our progress so far.

My problem was that there wasn't a wide variety of techniques used in my characters, so I could improve that a little bit. So I was given an idea to take some of my drawings and mix them with photography. It could give a different air to what I was doing, and it could give another contrast. I took one of the drawings I had done in Procreate of a lava giant, with his feet burning, and mixed it with a background of a volcano in a river of lava. The mix was interesting, because it gave that tone of humor that I wanted to bring to my characters, in addition to using something different.

I posted as soon as I was done on Pictofolio, and I was more relieved to at least have something different on my page.

Soon after it was suggested that I try to work on an animated gif for one of my characters.

I'm not used to making animations or gifs, so it was a mystery for me to be able to put together a gif in Photoshop, where I spent a lot of time trying to figure out how I was going to make my character move. I had to ask the teacher for help to see if he could shed some light on this mystery, and he gave me some tips on how to make a more simplified animation, maybe moving some pieces of rock on the character's shoulders, even moving his eyes.

A good idea and quick to cheer up. However, I was doing the animation and Photoshop suddenly closed, and I hadn't saved the file. I didn't have the courage to do it again, so I let it go, and went to do something that fits more with what I understand.

In this case, it was to do some researches, to show in the afternoon.

This semester I'm trying to vary my researches, not trying to get stuck only in illustrators who draw on digital or on paper. But other artists who make sculptures, animations, masks, even 3D characters. And that's what I presented in the afternoon to the teacher. References such as; El Grand Chamaco, Kami Goertz, Tanda and Manuel Kilger.

They all create their characters differently, and I always try to utilize something they've done in their work so it can open a new window for me.

On Tuesday, I continued to work on a character that I've been working on for a few days in the 3d software Blender. As we had a Blender workshop last week, I wanted to make a different character with a technique I'm not used to. Blender is a very complex software, full of tools for modeling objects, and it was during these last few days that I started to understand how the software worked.

My character is a giant robot that I had created in a brainstrom a few weeks ago, and I didn't want to stop using it. But I didn't know what technique I could use to create it, and I thought the blender was perfect, because I could put a metal texture and build it piece by piece.

What frustrates me in all this, is because I have little experience in Blender, the process of building the character is very slow, because I need to review Luis' classes and look for more videos on the subject, so that I can get a result at least satisfactory.

On Wednesday, little changed, because I continued to work on Blender, in order to try to finish my character, so that on Thursday I can show the teacher what I'm doing.

My intention was in addition, to put a tiny robot in one of the robot's hands, so that it could give the appearance of how giant it is, so this character would make sense within the universe I'm building, since they are giants. I'm almost done with the robot, I just need to put a rusty metal texture that I found on the internet and also improve the lighting of the scenario I built, and then the character will be finished.

Thursday was an unusual day, because I wasn't feeling very well to go to class, but I wanted to go anyway, so I could show what I was doing.

The purpose of the class was to post several of our works on Pictofolio, no matter if they were very good or not, we simply had to post them.

It was a little difficult for me to choose what I could post, because I didn't think anything was good enough to go on Pictofolio. So I posted some drawings that didn't necessarily have some kind of connection to the universe I had created, but that seemed to be well done.

I hadn't been able to finish the robot, so I couldn't even post it, and I'll try to finish it over the weekend and post it.

I wasn't feeling very well, so I wasn't able to concentrate properly in class, and there came a point when I couldn't take it anymore, and I asked to go away and rest.

The day didn't go the way I had planned, but at least I'm almost done with my digital character and then I can get on with other things.

[ayuuria]

Yashahime Translation: Animage October 2021 Issue

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For more information regarding the use of my translations, click here.

¡Por favor, no repostees esta traducción sin mi consentimiento! Esto incluye capturas de pantalla de cualquier tipo y cantidad. Si deseas compartir esta traducción, usa simplemente el enlace a este post.

Para más información sobre el uso de mis traducciones, haz click aquí.

The Beast King’s Daughter

“Hanyō no Yashahime” depicts the battle of three princesses who carry the blood of a demon king. In ‘The Second Chapter’ which broadcasts in October, the one who holds the key to the story is another princess who makes a new appearance.

With overwhelming strength, Sesshōmaru and Inuyasha’s father, the Dog General, was known as “The Beast King of the Western Lands”. The three (girls) Towa, Setsuna, and Moroha inherited the said beast king’s blood.

Despite being inexperienced, Towa and the others have constantly grown in battle. In episode 24 of ‘The First Chapter’, an evenly matched battle unfolds between Towa and Moroha, enraged by Setsuna’s death, and “The Beast King of the Eastern Lands”, Kirinmaru, who is equal to the Dog General. Though Kirinmaru was injured, he successfully landed a single stroke.

Starting from ‘The Second Chapter’, another daughter of a beast king appears before Towa and the others. Her name is Rion. Surprisingly, it is said that Kirinmaru also had a daughter. Rion is an existence who for 600 years has been sealed in Mt. Musubi, which is said to be where the Dream Butterfly is. Exactly who sealed her and for what purpose? Just like Towa and the others, within her is likely an inherited strength of a beast king but her powers are unknown.

There are still many mysteries surrounding Kirinmaru’s daughter, Rion. While it is not yet known whether she is an enemy or an ally to Towa and the others, if she is willing to lend her strength, she will likely become a reliable existence to them as they shoulder many difficulties.

Character Bios

Rion Kirinmaru’s daughter who has been sealed within the barrier of Mt. Musubi for 600 years. It seems her meeting with Towa, Setsuna, and Moroha will move destiny but… …?

The Dream Butterfly The butterfly of the dream world. A spirit. It is said that when they appear in the real world, they devour people’s dreams and those who have been devoured become unable to sleep or dream entirely.

Higurashi Towa Sesshōmaru and Rin’s daughter. She fights with Kikujyūmonji, a demon sword with a blade created from demonic power. The attack she unleashed when she became enraged from Setsuna’s death took on the shape of two blue dragons.

Setsuna Sesshōmaru and Rin’s daughter. In episode 24 of ‘The First Chapter’, despite wounding Kirinmaru during their battle, the tables turned on her and she lost her life.

Moroha Inuyasha and Kagome’s daughter. When she puts on rouge, she goes on a rampage that ends quickly but when Setsuna lost her life, she managed to fight without losing her composure.

Kirinmaru The Beast King of the Eastern Lands. It appears he spares some leeway with the Yashahimes such as naming Towa’s technique ‘Twin-Headed Azure Dragon Wave’, but?

The Parent Needs to Pull It Together More!

Kirinmaru has considerably complicated child rearing. In contrast to that, Rion is a girl with a straightforward upbringing. I can’t say the specifics yet but when I see parent and child, as a father of a daughter in her 10s myself, I think “The parent has to pull it together more” and I also get a sense of “I guess even if the parent complicates things, kids will grow up on their own.” By the way, Fujita Saki plays the role of Rion. She also took on the role of the mean heroine in my previous work “Fairy Ranmaru~ Anata no Kokoro Otasuke Shimasu~”. Just when I thought I finally defeated her in “F Ran” (Shortened name of said previous work), I meet her again in “Hanyō no Yashahime”… … I felt a mysterious fate (laughs).

- Director Hishida Masakazu

I Felt Destiny from the Lives of Towa and Co. Director Hishida Masakazu 

Synchronizing With His Own Life?! Empathy Towards Towa’s Situation

— In the previous issue’s interview, Director Hishida, you said that you felt that “it was fate that I should accept” the offer for this current work which was memorable.

Hishida: I worked at Sunrise’s Studio #1 for a long time, but I started to do work for Tatsunoko Production in 2008. From there, I mostly worked at Tatsunoko but now Sunrise has called me back for the first time in 13 years. Just as I’m wondering what sort of work it’s going to be, they tell me it’s a work that carries on the world of “Inuyasha”, (the work) that taught me the foundation of production. Not to mention, the protagonist, Towa, is a girl who was flung from the feudal world where she was born and raised, to the modern era, and then returns to the feudal (era) again after 10 years. I felt Towa’s situation synchronized with mine and all I could think was that this was fate.

I’m about the same age as the director of ‘The First Chapter’, Teruo-san (Director Satō Teruo), and our careers are just about the same too. Teruo-san worked at Studio 1 for the longest time while I on the other hand, got thrown outside and came back… … I thought that aspect felt similar to Towa and Setsuna’s life (laughs). That’s why watching Towa and Setsuna’s relationship in “The First Chapter” was very tough. Like, they were such close sisters so why doesn’t she remember… …

— To change it to your position Director Hishida, it’s like “You returned to Sunrise for the first time in a while but the people you used to get along with have forgotten about you” kind of a situation.

Hishida: It’s exactly that! The current staff of Sunrise’s Studio 1 don’t know me, and they don’t thank me (laughs). You see, I was the one who revived the steppingstone for the “becoming a producer by being a production assistant” route that came to an end at Studio 1! There weren’t many before me but afterwards, there were a lot of people that took that route and flew the nest like Fujita Yōichi-kun, Watada Shinya-kun, and Kyōgoku Takahiko-kun! No one is really grateful so Fujita-kun and Kyōgoku-kun would always say to me “I should’ve crushed you back then!” (laughs). As I watched Setsuna not remembering Towa, I ended up remembering that.

— You seem to have an unusual attachment to Towa and Setsuna’s relationship (laughs). Well then, what sort of impression do you have of Moroha and Sesshōmaru?

Hishida: Moroha has a brilliance to her. It’s amusing that she inherited Inuyasha’s mischievous side, and she’s got a similar silhouette to Inuyasha as well, so I feel that she is a real eye-catching character. When Towa and Setsuna take center, the story becomes heavy no matter what, so it’s fun to watch Moroha soften the place up.

Then, regarding Sesshōmaru in this current work, I felt “He’s a father”. I bet in his own way, as a father, he wonders how to interact with his daughters. Even while carrying out a strict “trial of courage and cowardice”, he still concerns himself with his daughters which I feel is a little human like. I’m also a father of two girls so I can relate to him somewhat. In the last (scene) of “The First Chapter”, he purposefully hands over a broken Tenseiga to Towa but he wouldn’t do that if he didn’t care about them. He just gives a pass like “Do something about it with this” and I think that is also (a form of) training in a sense.

Also, drawing wise, the pattern of Sesshōmaru’s kimono is still brutal (laughs). “Inuyasha” was an analog cel anime back then so (drawing) that pattern was even more difficult. At the time, the suggestion “Let’s omit the pattern on Sesshōmaru’s kimono” was made but Director Ikeda Masashi opposed it. I didn’t understand why Director Ikeda was so fixated on that pattern back then but thinking about it now, I think it was the right call. Since it could be said that Sesshōmaru’s existence is one of two wheels in the work that is “Inuyasha”, he probably didn’t want to make him plain wherever possible.

The First Attempt At ‘The Second Chapter’ Storyboard Was Like A “Trial of Courage and Cowardice”

— Next, please tell us about Kirinmaru’s side. In ‘The First Chapter’, many of their actions were puzzling so by all means, any hints to their activity in ‘The Second Chapter’!

Hishida: At first, I couldn’t quite understand Kirinmaru, but once I heard he was a father with a daughter, I understood. While he is a person who’s thinking “I want to surpass the Dog General”, his feelings of admiration towards that man and wanting to show his strong side to his daughter are feelings that I completely understand now. Kirinmaru has had many mysterious aspects up until this point, but I’d like to depict his emotions in ‘The Second Chapter’.

Just like her younger brother, Kirinmaru, Zero has also become obsessed with the Dog General. In any case, she lives on her “love”. Zero’s womanly heart is a little complicated, but I also feel that seeing her persist with her earnest feelings for the Dog General is cool.

Also, I think the parts of Riku, who’s neutral towards Towa and the others, that were difficult to see up to this point will become clear in ‘The Second Chapter’. How he feels about Towa will be brought to the forefront, so I told Fukuyama Jun-kun who plays him, “In ‘The Second Chapter’ please go with a slightly handsome boy feeling route” (laughs). By the way, Fukuyama-kun was the one who played the main character in my director debut work “Onmyō Taisenki”. The name of the role (character) was ‘Riku’. ‘The Second Chapter’ is a story about the ‘fate’ that connects people together, and I also felt a mysterious fate from that.

— What did you think of production for episode 25 (episode 1 of ‘The Second Chapter’) which continues from the shocking last scene of Setsuna’s death in ‘The First Chapter’?

Hishida: It was such shocking last scene that I was overcome with the feeling of “Why are you passing the baton to me at such a difficult spot!?”! I truly thought this was a ‘trial of courage and cowardice’ (laughs). I did the storyboard for episode 25 myself, but coming into the work midway, it took me some time to understand the story, so I really struggled. Until now, the record holder for storyboard that took me the longest was episode 13 of “Gundam Reconguista in G” with 2 months. However, this time, it took me 3 months.

— To say that it easily overtook that “G Recon” (shortened form of “Gundam Reconguista in G”) that you struggled so much with (laughs).

Hishida: Yes. My worst record was brilliantly made new! However, on the reverse side, I thought with ‘The First Chapter’ ending like this, there’s no doubt you’d want to see the continuation. In that sense, they passed the baton in the best way so I should meet up to that (expectation). It was tough but I put my all into it!

— ‘The Second Chapter’ is loaded with things to be curious about aside from what will happen to Setsuna like Rin who’s sleeping within the Tree of Ages and Inuyasha and Kagome who’ve been trapped within the black pearl.

Hishida: I can’t talk in detail about that yet but I will say “There’s no way it would end like this!”. I would certainly like for everyone to look forward to October.

In the new key visual for ‘The Second Chapter’ that is overflowing with lively motion, the three princesses show gallant expressions with weapons in hand. What exactly is beyond Towa’s reaching hand… …? Also, when will we get to see ‘Sesshōmaru & Rin’ and ‘Inuyasha & Kagome’ standing side-by-side together as shown in this picture?

#Yashahime #Hanyou no Yashahime #Yashahime: Princess Half-Demon #translation

[youwontlikethisblog]

A lil rant

After watching this episode a fourth time and certain scenes a lot and thinking about it a lot I wanted to explain further than I did in the last post.

I focused a lot on explaining the consensual aspect of their first time and explaining the motivation behind Armando's actions as well as Betty's, but didn't elaborate much more, for one like I said I'm an insomniac and was out of it lol, try writing a post for nearly twelve hours and tell me you wouldn't either. I do see that I should probably draft a lot of my "analysis" when I write them because I am not all there so I don't explain things as well so I'll start doing that so the post are a lot more consistent and clear as opposed to me starting with one point and never finishing it. Anyway now that this disclaimer is out of the way here are my thoughts on said episodes as a writer.

Many times when writing we have to revisit our work as we are writing it. This allows us to pick up on certain plot holes and mistakes as well as even figure out some plot twist in the future. Often times when you know your characters and the moral and ending of your story, the story ends up writing itself and forming it's own path. I've mentioned in past posts that the first draft is to write with tears and blood and the when that's over you clean up your crime scene.

Now, all writers are imperfect and we make mistakes, duh, so there's inconsistent things in this show, like the dog, Camila, Beatriz Valencia, etc.. etc.. however when it comes to the main character's personality there really isn't much of a flaw, in fact they are very realistic and consistent, the actors did a phenomenal job bringing said characters to life, one of my all time favorite details of the characters in this show is how they all have ticks. Guti Guti does that thing with his lips, Patricia flips her hair, Betty worries her lips a lot and when she is explaining certain things she often has this really adorable thing where she rocks on her feet and speaks very certain of what she's saying. Armando has so many ticks that it's hard to keep up with them. Point is they all have so many realistic behaviors that it's hard not to notice them and even harder to disregard them as not part of the story when they are. They are a huge part of being able to credit or discredit the motives and actions that move these characters.

For that exact reason Betty's character in the past few episodes was so heavily important to understand where she was coming from. It wasn't just that she was drinking that got her all riled up and excited that night. It wasn't just that she missed him days without him made her longing and desire increase ten fold. There is always a cause and effect.

What caused Betty to behave this way? How did that effect her relationship? What caused Armando to react that way? How did that effect their relationship? Most importantly, how did this affect them both?

There's a clear understanding of who Armando is and what his secret desire and motive is to make Betty fall in love with him. Though his pride and ego are so huge he can't see past it to dissect and understand his feelings aside from the prejudice he has against women who are not the status quota, in the mildest of all of that there lays one true objective: Betty's heart. We mustn't forget that Armando IS worried about Eco Moda and most certainly that he never wants to admit that he was wrong.

However much like a future dream demonstrates it, Eco Moda is just a farce for his feelings towards Betty. Though outwardly he is motivated by the desperate desire to be validated and loved by his parents, to be better than Daniel, and not admit that he was wrong, inwardly what really pushes him and makes him go after Betty is his desire for her.

How does this start off? He blurs the line at work, where things no longer are just professional coming from him. He makes certain achievements of Betty's in her profession and even morale his own, as if they were a team facing the challenges together. He inserts himself into Betty's life and he inserts Betty into his personal life a lot. With his affairs, his feelings regarding the company and his worries. He trust her as his confidant, as his best friend. He trust her with his feelings more than he does with his actual best friend and his fiancé and this all starts days before the plan is even a plan to him.

The cause of this? Betty's faithfulness and unconditionality.

The effect? He feels like he is special to Betty, as he said himself he had been so special with her(If you haven't yet I suggest that you read the posts Nicolas Mora, Un Amigo, Betty, My Betty! Parts 1-3).

As their relationship progressed his feelings continued to grow to the point that this night, not after he slept with her but before he did, he fell in love. It was when Betty was being vulnerable and apologizing to him for having been overbearing that he fell in love.

However Betty had already been in love with him, way before. She knew him in and out. She knew the good and the bad. She accepted him as is and all she wanted to do was give him her affection and love and that's what she's done, it's all she's done and this feeds a cycle of desire and motivation for Armando where her love motivates him to change, it inspires him to be a better version of himself to make Betty happy because seeing her happy makes him happy, it challenges him to change his own prejudice of society and people. She is a safe haven and she achieves that, how wasn't he supposed to fall in love with her this night when she does exactly that?

Betty's cause to behave like this was her conversation with Aura Maria days before where she questioned if Armando felt more for her than just admiration. She questioned if he too desired her. The effect of that conversation was her testing to see if Armando did in fact feel the same way, that he was on the same page.

It is also so satisfying to see the parallels! Oh how wonderful they are!

The extreme contrast between Betty and Marcela are so visible, so vivid, so in your face that you cannot say that Marcela is a victim of Betty's.

I won't defend Betty's actions for involving herself with a man that was in a contract with another woman(I say contract because it was not an engagement. What Marcela and Armando had was a contract, he did her the favor of marrying her and she owned him.) I understand that she is insecure but she was always shown to have morals and ethics above all, where did those go? Out the window that's where. However I still love her so imma be a supportive mother to Betty and call her out but lend her my two shoulders to cry on, okay?

Moving on.

Betty did not and I will repeat this BETTY DID NOT MANIPULATE OR FORCE ARMANDO TO SLEEP WITH HER.

We get two contrast of the exact same scenario for that exact reason people.

Betty and Marcela literally ask the exact same questions to Armando: Am I making you uncomfortable? Am I bothering you? Do you not want to be with me?(Marcela asked Do you want me to leave?)

However they ask it with different intentions and motivation.

Marcela never pays attention to Armando's body language. Instead she focuses solely on herself, her feelings, and what she wants, this is not a person who is insecure, this is not a person who has no self-worth. This is a person who has a huge ego. MARCELA IS SELF-CENTERED AND SELFISH TO THE CORE. For this exact reason she refuses to let go of Armando because she believes that she deserves him not as a human being but as a trophy to satisfy herself that she tamed a man who sluts it out left and right.

This night we get to see that.

While Betty asked him these questions to make sure he was on the same page as her, that he too desired her just as she desired him; Marcela asked these questions to trap him. She wanted to be like "Aha! You do have a lover! Now I'm going to make your life a living hell because I was right!"

No sis, calm your tits, you need a therapist.

While Betty was legit asking for it, for Armando to consent, Marcela was asking for him to satisfy her. There is a huge, and I mean huge difference between asking for consent and wanting to be satisfied.

Ironically my current WIP pushed me down a rabbit hole on information that explains the dynamics of a survivor and a romantic relationship and how to be a supportive S.O and a lot of the articles I read mentioned the importance of intimacy.

What is intimacy? It is forming a friendship with your S.O and establishing honesty and respect. It comes above the physical aspect of the relationship because it makes you feel safe when things are leading to something physical.

Marcela and Armando don't have that. Armando has even told Marcela that he doesn't want her to have his intimacy. When I first saw that scene I was like "Take a look at this an*s! Why is she with him?" and then I saw why... Marcela be blabbering his business to everyone. She tells everyone that Armando is unfaithful(I mean in that aspect he do be deserving that) but it goes so much deeper than that. The reason he cheats on her is because he is trying to escape, have control, and feel validated and then that feeds her possessiveness over him, which then feeds his desire to cheat(@el-moscorrofio-y-el-mercachifle already made a meme about that lol). She never does anything to gain his trust, instead she demands it and when she doesn't get it she has this "Aha! It's because you're a cheating whore and I'll destroy the woman but stay with you because you belong to me you puny little man! But I will also ruin you if you leave me!" Their relationship sucks. It's honestly just a moral enemies to sex trope. That's it. Like there's nothing there.

Which is not the case for Betty and Armando.

They in fact do have intimacy. They talk about their feelings, they face trials together, as a team, they push one another and inspire one another. They were friends(a lil more than friends doe) long before. In the scene where they are talking in the hotel room Betty tells him she understand him, that she understands that he doesn't feel that sort of attraction towards her and just because she loves him he isn't obligated to sleep with her.

I want to repeat this in cause people are still confused or saying Betty forced Armando to sleep with her: She said :YOU ARE NOT UNDER THE OBLIGATION TO HAVE RELATIONS WITH ME JUST BECAUSE I WANT TO.

What does that sound like to you?

Imma wait for crickets.

When Armando then tries to engage into relations she pulls away and tells him that he doesn't have to.

She is literally placing his needs, his feelings, before her own, however Armando has just barely fallen in love and he wants to. He wants to sleep with her. He wants to engage in fornication and sinful actions with Betty.

He gets frustrated when Betty tells him that he doesn't have to and we know it's because he hates it when people, especially Betty, invalidate his feelings or efforts. The fact that Betty now was telling him no upset him because he did want to sleep with her, however he did not pressure her either. He explained why he did want to sleep with her and when she consented and he too consented they sinned.

However later that night we get almost the exact same scenario but with a different tone.

Marcela, after they argued, sits by his bed where he is laying down and goes to take off his tie and tells him that she desires him. Armando was laying still he told her he was tired, wanted to wash up and go to sleep before she did this. He did not look nor welcome her actions, which is different from when Betty told him that she wanted to make him feel better. In that scene Armando asked her how she was going to do that and when she said with her kisses, they both leaned in to kiss. This time Armando just lays there, like all the other times before but he looks at her with a cold stare.

When he jumped back from Betty when they were making out, Betty asked him what was wrong and he expressed himself.

However this time when Marcela asks him her tone is different. This time she's angry at him as she yells at him to deny that he has a lover now.

Marcela wasn't looking to be with her man, she was looking for her man to be with her. She wanted him to prove to her that he hadn't been sluting it out(like how was he supposed to prove that when she been knew that he still went and slept with her after he slept with whomever? Like she knew he did that and she still consented? WHAT? which y'know feeds the notion that she just wanted her socks rocked) but it contradicts what she says the next day to Patsy Pats at the office. Marcela just wanted him to satisfy her. She wasn't looking for it to be team work, she was looking for it to be about her.

This is why that night was so important. These little scenes, movements, play on words and parrales are there to show us two different relationships; a healthy one and a toxic one.

Marcela didn't respect Armando's no, she just had no other option because this time he wasn't just laying there letting her do what she wanted, this time her emotional manipulation didn't work, this time her seggsual manipulation doesn't work so unless she was gonna r-word him than she had no other choice but to be pissed about it.

Betty did respect Armando's no. She tried to explain herself and apologize to him. She even double checked with him when he told her he did want to. Betty was willing to not have relations with Armando if he didn't want to, for the sake of their relationship and what they have, she would not jeopardize their relationship just to get her socks rocked nor would she make him feel guilty for it.

It wasn't a happy little accident that we get these parrales in one episode.

Understanding the cause and effect helps us determine this.

Understanding the character's inner desires and dilemas helps us understand this.

So no, once again, Betty did not force Armando to sleep with her. Everything before, during, and after that scene shows us and tells us this.

We get both a cause and effect with the added bonus of show, not tell.

This novela reads like a book, so there isn't much of a speculation when we are being shown to compare both of these relationships when they are saying the same things, in the same scenario but with different tone and reaction from the character of interest in both scenarios.

The purpose of this novela was to break social norms of how certain women and men are presented in the media and to question why that is. It isn't simply a love story, if it was I wouldn't be able to watch it as stuff like that makes me want to puke, again this is all a funny ironic joke that someone is playing on me.

[EDIT:

Another key things to take into account(I mentioned it in the Forgive Me post) is that even Mario's tactic to manipulate Armando had nothing to do with Eco Moda or his ego. It had everything to do with Betty's feelings and Armando's desire to make her happy. That same day Mario took notice of Armando's behavior towards Betty at the office and the guilt he felt over forgetting her B-day. Mario played with Armando's feelings and he pushed his buttons to see just how much it mattered to Armando.

When Armando said at the bar that he couldn't go through with it, Mario told him he was convinced, a sincere reaction of his, and he didn't have to do it anymore. However when Armando said he couldn't do that to Betty because she was really looking forward to it, Armando was smiling when he was talking about her enthusiasm to spend time with him, and Mario took notice of that.

So again, Armando did want to sleep with Betty, he just didn't want to do it under deceit or manipulation. He didn't want to be Betty's "First" under those conditions and Betty didn't force him.

My rant is over.

[EDIT: On the Forgive Me post I went back and did two corrections, they are in bold so if y'all want to read them, that would be awesome :)]

#don armando #armando mendoza #armando ysblf #betty pinzón solano #beatriz pinzón solano #beatriz pinzon solano #betty ysblf #yo soy betty la fea #morch #marcela ysblf #marcela valencia

[earthlyyan]

hi!!! thank u for ur ferid scenarios w mental health. ♥

i was just wondering if u would be able to create one w an s/o who *TW* self harms very badly? as in serious injury & medical attention needing. always hides away blades & burns themself.

i rly struggle w severe self mutilation & i would like 2 see what u can come up w!!! i understand if its too uncomfortable.

Ferid with a darling who [TW] has a habit of self h//rm

Hey anon I completely understand how you feel I’m going through something eerily similar right now so I feel like I need this just as much as you do. But please, dear, take care of yourself.

PROCEED WITH CAUTION FOR THE SECOND HEADCANON. FERID IS NOT A NICE PERSON.

Warnings: self h@rm, blood, brief medical procedures? idk, ferid does NOT take you seriously in the second half, 

(Cutting, because I don’t know how to write the latter)

He would be very quick to find out. His nose is keen and his thirst and senses are fine tuned. Even more so when it’s blood. It’s in his nature, after all.

First thing he does is confiscate the catalyst. He doesn’t want you to bleed out or have a chance of doing it more than you already have.

If you’re with him willingly:

If you’ve recently come into his care, and this was a habit beforehand, he’s certainly taken notice but didn’t explicitly ask about it. He’s had humans down in Sanguinem have issues like this before. But this was different. This was his human. The only one allowed to hurt them was him.

He’d been aware, but he assumed since your situation was slightly different that you wouldn’t have a need to do it. But perhaps it had nothing to do with your situational issues, but something more… internal.

He’d hold you close, his hand applying pressure to your wound to stop the immediate bleeding. (Providing it was a cut, and not a burn.) He would pick you up and briskly walk to the restrooms, fearing that if he had used his vampiric speed, the velocity would open your wounds further.

He’s firm, but not unkind. There’s an air of condescension and mockery in his voice as he reprimands you.

“You know, if you wanted to bleed so bad you could’ve just seen me.” He jests, taking an alcohol soaked rag and dabbing it over the fresh lacerations. He’d be lying if he didn’t enjoy the way you’d whimper as he cleaned them.

He revels in the way your face heats with embarrassment, all the while pale from your loss of essence. It’s stark in contrast, like spilled blood on freshly fallen snow.

“Now my dear, won’t you tell me what’s wrong?”

If you’re there as a prisoner:

If you’re expecting gentle care and tender touches from him you’re going to be disappointed.

He likes to see you suffer, yes. But he’s much more inclined to hurt you himself rather than let you hurt yourself. It feels like his toys are being broken by someone else, despite it being you.

“I didn’t take you for the masochistic type.” He sneered, looming over your steadily weakening body with keen interest.

He took off his glove and wiped a finger over your wounds before popping it into his mouth.

“I assume this is a form of escapism.” He said, sitting down on the bed next to you. He was in no rush to come to your aid. Only to revel in your anguish. “Several humans like you have come into my care. Most of them willingly, but you’re a special case. Though your thoughts are not nearly as special.” He sighed. “Your habits are not unique. Humans like you are a dime a dozen. You’re upset, you’re hurt, you’re suffering. But instead of working on your situation you revel in it. Moaning and slicing at yourself ‘Oh woe is me’ how quaint.” His laugh is harsh and tight.

Ferid moves swiftly to the other side of the bed to assess the damages. “You look moments away from passing out.” He knelt down to your face and patted it lightly. “Don’t sleep on me now, don’t escape what you wanted.”

The way your eyes pleaded for help made his face flush.

“Awe, look at you. Do you want me to help?”

You nodded weakly.

“You’re going to have to use your words, lamb.”

A small, weak, groan escaped your lips. The ability to form complete thoughts was slipping away.

“I’m sorry, what was that? Come on, speak up.”

“H…el…p m…e”

“That’s a dear.”

#tw: sh #dark fic #yandere ferid #ferid bathory #tw: graphic depictions of violence #dead dove do not eat

[izlaria]

Someone you like (part 1)

This work is inspired by the animatic called Someone you like by honestlyprettychill. I don’t know if I’ll have the energy to do all of the povs showcased in the video, but I just really loved the idea that Lance would eventually come to like Pidge, a romance born from  years of friendship. Friends to lovers is my jam.

I’m posting this on tumblr in case I never finish it, because I just wanted to share what I’ve written so far. I might upload the whole thing to AO3 later.

I made some changes to the video’s initial idea, because I wanted to follow canon ages and I didn’t want a 14-year-old to fall for a 12-year-old. At that time, it’s a pretty big difference in development. So I wanted to establish the basis for Lance to eventually romanticize their first encounter, despite not having been attracted to young Katie.

Spanish to English translations at the end.

14 years old

The truth was that Lance went to Space Camp because Veronica could be a little pest. She knew their parents wouldn’t let her go alone and so had enticed her younger brother with the promise of travel and foreign girls and no parental supervision.

Veronica had obviously left out the fact that they were essentially going to school on steroids for a month, smack in the middle of their summer break. Cool as Miami might seem, Lance wasn’t exactly excited for all the extra work the camp would entail.

“No es un acampamiento,” his sister repeated for what felt like the thousandth time. He wasn’t listening anymore. “Tú sabes que el campo de explotación espacial no está muy desenvuelto en Cuba. Si realmente quieres trabajar con eso, entonces simplemente cállate y no insultes a nadie.”

“¿Cuando he insultado a alguien?” he shot back, defensive. Veronica didn’t dignify that with an answer.

As much as Lance might like to think himself very smooth, there were still times when he stumbled over his words, especially in English. More than once he’d meant to pay someone a compliment and had accidentally started an argument of some kind.

Veronica looked impatiently at her watch. “Mira, tengo una reunión con mi orientador. Y tú tienes por lo menos dos artículos para leer para las clases de mañana, ¿por qué no vas a la biblioteca para trabajar un poco? Prometo comprarte una hamburguesa después.”

Lance pouted at her, arms crossed over his chest. “Me debes más que una hamburguesa y lo sabes, Ronie.”

His sister snickered, but it was as much of an acknowledgement as he was going to get. Veronica pressed a quick kiss to his hair, already turning to go into the main building.

“¡Gracias, hermanito! ¡No te arrepentirás!”

In all honesty, Lance wasn’t as irritated as he made Veronica believe. He knew that a summer program in Miami was a really good opportunity, especially if he wanted to get into the Garrison in the following years. It was just difficult.

He was diligent and studious, but not as naturally gifted as some of the other kids. Besides, he hadn’t been to the US in a couple years, since his parents had mostly settled down in the family farm, which meant he still had to fall back into his English, a task made even more frustrating by the xenophobic comments from one of the boys in his AP geometry class.

The teacher had put an end to it right away, but the words stuck with Lance, for some reason.

With how much humanity had progressed in terms of technology, one would think they would be able to get past petty rivalry between nationalities and usually that was true, but the influx of foreigners following the establishment of the Galaxy Garrison in the US desert still annoyed some people, despite its existence as a multinational center for space exploration. It irritated Lance to no end, especially when so many of these scientific advances came from international collaboration.

If only he could shrug off the inadequacy that now grew in his chest.

Straight ahead, there was a path that led to a green area in the middle of the campus. The other students had taken to calling it the Woods, though it was more of a middle-sized park, with benches and picnic tables where anyone from the Institute could go to relax. That’s where Lance went, mind too full to really focus on homework.

He wondered if people would react that same way if he ever made it into the Garrison. He didn’t know how Veronica dealt with it all, especially when she was alone in Arizona most of the time. Barely a week had passed and Lance already missed his parents, the tenderness of home-cooked food and well-intended lectures.

No, he had to believe that Billy Underwood was an exception. The other kids hadn’t joined in on his taunts, even if no one had moved to defend Lance. It was still too early to make conclusions on his colleagues, especially when everyone had seemed so charmed by him before then.

Lance was so lost in thought that he didn’t realize he had been standing in front of one of the benches until a new voice broke through the peace of the park.

“Are you just gonna stand there?”

The words were somewhat harsh, but when Lance lowered his eyes to their source the girl winced, grimacing. She seemed to have spoken impulsively.

“Hmm, yeah.” Lance blinked at her for a moment, before finally sitting down on the bench. He made sure to leave space between him and the girl, not wanting to make the situation even more awkward.

“I didn’t mean to snap at you,” the girl said after a moment of silence. She looked at him sideways and her brown eyes seemed almost golden in the sunlight. There were freckles spread across the bridge of her nose and across her cheeks, and the green ribbon in her hair swayed in the wind. It was a soft sight, a contrast to the steeliness of her posture and gaze.

“It’s fine,” Lance hurried to assure her. She looked young, but so did he, and talking to complete strangers never failed to make him nervous. “Nothing like a little girl yelling at me to bring me back to earth.”

He gave her his best grin, the one reserved for first impressions and fancy parties. It was supposed to project confidence and kindness, even though Luis said he ended up looking a bit smug.

“I didn’t yell,” the girl pointed out with a light frown. Then her eyes shifted into a more calculating look. “You’re a bit of a goofball, aren’t you?”

“I prefer the term good-humored,” he replied jokingly.

She continued to stare. Lance got the feeling that the girl did this a lot. She had an untamed intelligence to her that Lance couldn’t completely understand. It was the sort of air that teachers sometimes carried, as if they could see something deeper in you if they looked long enough.

“It didn’t seem like you were feeling all that good-humored just now.” She tilted her head to the side, letting the words hang between them.

“Yeah, I suppose that’s true,” Lance found himself saying.

“Do you… want to talk about it?” She looked so doubtful that it almost made Lance laugh. The feeling, however, was overcome by the relief of finally having someone who would listen.

He had spent the week trying and failing to explain to Veronica what was truly making him feel down. She was too busy or too happy for Lance to tell her the truth, especially when it left him so vulnerable. After all, Veronica had taken to her work on the Institute like a fish to water. Lance was supposed to be more adaptable than this.

With the rest of his family away in Cuba, he felt unbearably lonely.

“Yes! Thank you!” Lance shifted in the bench to face the girl. She was taken aback by his enthusiasm, but didn’t move away. “There’s this cabrón in my class, who thought it was a good idea to mess with me, just ‘cause I said fábrica instead of factory in our first day here. He hasn’t really left me alone since…” he whined. “I speak two languages but somehow I’m the uneducated ass here!”

The girl nodded, eyes downcast. “I know what you mean.”

“You do?” He eyed the fairness of her skin and the almost ginger of her hair. “Sorry, but you look white.”

Lance’s comment must have taken her by surprise, because she actually laughed.

“I am white. I’m also Italian.” She rolled her eyes, but there was amusement in the tug of her lips. “I can be both.”

“That’s true.” Lance grinned sheepishly. It was good that she wasn’t offended by his lack of filter. “You don’t have much of an accent, though.”

“Neither do you,” the girl bit back, no real animosity in her tone.

He shrugged. “My family spent a lot of time in the US when I was younger. It used to be second nature to me. Now, I keep feeling like I have to hold back the instinct to roll my R’s.”

“I get that. My parents moved here right after I was born, but we used to speak Italian in the house.” There was a pause here, something that she couldn’t bring herself to say. “I think it’s cool that you can speak Spanish. It’s useful.”

“Yeah?” Lance sat up straight, feeling suddenly boastful.

“Sure!” she continued, encouraged by his interest. “The Bouman Aeronautics Research Institute really values multiculturalism! It is a hob of different nationalities and perspectives, created to foster new minds from around the world! Or that’s what my brother says, at least, and he is rarely wrong.” She gave him a smirk that quickly shifted into a grimace. “Don’t tell him I said that or he will never let me forget it.”

“Older brother?” At her nod, Lance smiled. “I got older siblings too. Sort of the reason I’m here in the first place, actually. One of them was accepted as a researcher and she tricked me into applying too.”

“Same, actually.” She seemed startled for a moment, pulling out her cellphone. “Freak, I have to go! I completely lost track of time while reading.” She got up to go, collecting the book she’d apparently put down to talk to him. It was a thick volume with numbers on the cover, but it didn’t look like math.

Another green ribbon fluttered to the ground, having escaped the pages of the book. Lance bent down to pick it up.

“Here.” He stretched it out to the girl. “Wouldn’t want to lose its pair,” he said with a wink.

“Thanks for reminding me!” She grabbed the ribbon hurriedly, then paused, turning back to Lance. “And for the conversation, I guess.”

Lance grinned at her. She was a little awkward but in an endearing way, like she wasn’t used to having the attention of others on her. Given she empathized with his circumstances in the Institute, it wasn’t that big of a leap to assume that she had trouble making friends.

“Bye bye, Italian girl.” He waved, glad that he could spend these few minutes with her.

“Farewell, Spanish boy.”

Lance meant to correct her about his nationality, but she took out running, clearly late for something. He laughed at the way she stumbled across the uneven ground, careless like a little kid. It was a strange juxtaposition: the thoughtfulness of her earlier words and the childishness of her smile now.

He settled back into the bench, feeling much more content than he’d been earlier. It was nice to talk to people outside of class, for a change.

And, well, Italian girl was pretty. A bit young-looking for him, but he thought guys her age should be tripping over their feet for a chance to talk to her.

“Hey, you’re Lance, right?” A boy had approached while Lance observed the girl disappear from sight. He was tall and robust, with shortly cropped hair, but his expression was friendly. “You’re in my Analytics class.”

It took Lance a second to place him. Analytics was one of the classes Lance struggled with the most, so he hadn’t had as much opportunity to joke around there.

“And you’re Hunk!” Lance snapped his fingers, smiling. “Sit down, man! What can I do for ya?”

Translations:

“No es un acampamiento.Tú sabes que el campo de explotación espacial no está muy desenvuelto en Cuba. Si realmente quieres trabajar con eso, entonces simplemente cállate y no insultes a nadie.” - “It’s not a camp. You know that the field of space exploration is not very well developped in Cuba. If you really do want to work in this area, then simply shut up and don’t insult anyone.”

“¿Cuando he insultado a alguien?” - “When have I insulted anyone?”

“Mira, tengo una reunión con mi orientador. Y tú tienes por lo menos dos artículos para leer para las clases de mañana, ¿por qué no vas a la biblioteca para trabajar un poco? Prometo comprarte una hamburguesa después.” - “Look, I have a meeting with my coordinator. And you have at least two articles to read for tomorrow’s classes. Why don’t you go work for a bit in the library? I promise to buy you a burger later.”

“Me debes más que una hamburguesa y lo sabes, Ronie.” - “You owe me more than a burger and you know it, Ronie.”

“¡Gracias, hermanito! ¡No te arrepentirás!” - “Thank you, little brother! You won’t regret it!”

Cabrón - Bastard

#plance #flirtyrobot #Pidgance #Lidge #Cyance #voltron #vld #vld lance #pidge gunderson #katie holt #voltron legendary defender #vld fanfiction #lance mcclain #vld syl verse

[panharmonium]

the edge of seventeen [fic]

summary: Daegal forgets his own birthday.  Merlin has a conniption.  Daegal has a crisis.

context for newcomers: This is the next installment in an ongoing AU that @once-and-future-gay​ and I have been playing around with, wherein both Will and Daegal survived into Season 5.  The background for that AU can be found here, and the associated fics (plus one art post) are at the following links: be good / persistence / tournaments / daegal post-carpentry (art).

a/n: @once-and-future-gay​​, this was actually written for your birthday XD  I started it that Tuesday intending for it to be a very short snippet that I could post the same day, but I quickly realized that it was turning into a bigger piece, and now, a week and a half later, it’s a 10k story.  I apologize for how belated it is, but I hope you'll accept it as a birthday gift anyhow - I figured that if it were up to me, I’d rather have ‘more fic’ than ‘on-time fic,’ so - happy (belated) birthday to you, and here’s some more of this AU for you, featuring Daegal and a wide supporting cast! ✨

“Are you trying to slice that thing or just beat it to death?”

Will stared incredulously down the table at Daegal, who continued to hack at the seedpod held between his fingers even though his aggravated chopping did little more than squash the unyielding capsule down into the wood of the table.  “It’s my knife,” Daegal muttered, stabbing at his botanical nemesis.  “It’s dull.” 

“So sharpen it.”  

“I did,” Daegal replied.  “It’s old.  It doesn’t hold an edge.”

Will beckoned for the knife.  Daegal scooted it down the table to him like an innkeeper sliding drinks down the length of the bar, even in defiance of Merlin’s exasperated, “Don’t - !”  But Will caught the knife easily, handle-first, and gave it a disapproving once-over.

“Use mine,” he said, and slid one of his own blades down the table.

“Don’t - !” Merlin bit out again, then sighed and returned to the text he was copying after Daegal intercepted the blade without injury.

“Careful,” Will warned Daegal.  “It’s - ”

Pop.  Daegal startled out of his seat at the first enthusiastic slice of the knife, as the capsule burst and sent hundreds of tiny black seeds scattering in every direction, the dried granules rolling off the edge of the table and pouring onto the floor with a rain-like hiss.

Merlin sighed and rubbed his forehead.  Will picked up his own half-finished carving again and gestured at Merlin’s face.  “You’ve got a bit of ink on you, you know.”

Merlin shot him a flat look.  “Have I?”

“Yeah.  Just over your nose there.”

“Maybe it’s because you keep doing things that make me want to pull my hair out.”

Will gave Daegal a knowing grin across the table.  Daegal, doing his best to contain the spilled seeds, couldn’t help feeling pleased, even if the smile he offered to Will in return was slightly sheepish.  

“Do I?” Will asked Merlin, utterly unconcerned.  “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Stop giving him knives!” Merlin burst out, gesturing broadly at Daegal’s end of the table.

“He’s fine!” Will said.  “He’s a big lad.”

“And he’s making a big mess.”

“I’ll clean it up,” Daegal assured Merlin, scooping the runaway seeds into uncooperative piles.  “I didn’t think it would cut so well, is all.”

“You need better tools,” Will declared.  “Merlin, the man works for you.  Why haven’t you got him outfitted properly?”

Merlin opened his mouth to reply, but before he could say anything, he was interrupted by a rap at the door.  “It’s open,” he called, frowning.  It was a bit late for visitors.

The door swung open, revealing Gwaine, who took only a single step into the physician’s chambers before pausing at the loud crunching sound under his boot.  “Hallo,” he said curiously, lifting up his foot.  “What’s all this, then?”  

“Seeds,” Daegal supplied helpfully, at the same time as Merlin grumbled, “Never mind.  Don’t come in; you’ll track it all over.”

Gwaine obliged, bowing at the waist in deference to Merlin’s directive.  “Don’t mind me,” he said.  “I only came by to see if you lot fancied an excursion.”

“What sort?”

“The lads and I are off to see the sunrise.  Thought you might like to join us.”

It was only after a moment’s confusion that Daegal realized Gwaine was talking about the tavern, in some sort of post-curfew, plausible deniability-laden way.  Daegal wiped seeds from his palms and looked hopefully between Will and Merlin, not daring to believe that they would say yes.  It wasn’t often Gwaine heard the word “no” from someone he’d propositioned, Daegal was willing to bet, but Daegal knew trying to drag Will and Merlin out of their nest two whole bells after curfew, especially when the weather had frosted all the windows, was an extremely optimistic maneuver, even for Gwaine.

Will, predictably, snorted, not even bothering to pretend he was interested.  Merlin did a better job of feigning regret, holding up the heavy text he was copying as if it explained everything.  “Can’t,” he said simply.  “Sorry.  Too much work.  Too late.  Too tired.  Too cold.”

“Any other excuses?” Gwaine asked, the corners of his mouth twitching up.  

“Pick whichever one you like best,” Merlin said, returning to scratch away at his manuscript.  “I’m comfy in here.”

Gwaine gestured amicably at Daegal.  “How about you, lad?”

Daegal’s eyes widened.  Merlin always made tavern nights with Gwaine sound legendary, and the fact that Will groaned every time they came up in conversation made them even more intriguing, but Will, in a surprisingly swift intervention, interrupted before Daegal could even open his mouth.  

“Not a chance,” he said, when Daegal tentatively started to rise from his chair.  “Sit down.”

Gwaine did not seem offended, but simply leaned against the doorframe and grinned in that careless way of his.  “Can’t the lad have a bit of fun?”

“Not with that lot.  Not at this hour.”

“I’ll look after him.”

“You?  By the time you’re done drinking you won’t know him from Bruta.”

Gwaine shrugged.  “Suit yourself.”  He pointed at Daegal.  “Invitation stands, lad.  Another time, maybe.”  

Daegal nodded wistfully, and Gwaine bade them farewell, departing.  Will, shaking his head, returned to his whittling, muttering, “Not ruddy likely.”  He brushed wood shavings off his knees, adding to the mess on the floor.  “Lunatic.”

“He’s a good lunatic,” Merlin said, absorbed in his copying.

“If you say so.”

“I could still go, maybe,” Daegal said.  “I could look after myself.”

Will raised his eyebrows.  “At the Rising Sun?  After curfew?  You’d wake up with your head in a snowbank.”

“No, I wouldn’t.”

“Yes, you would,” Will said, not budging. “Don’t go courting trouble.  You’re too young for that crowd.”

Daegal scrunched up his nose.  He knew that in a contest of stubbornness, Will would win by a mile, but still - “I’m not too young.  I’m seventeen.”

Merlin’s head snapped up from his book, his copying abruptly forgotten.  “You’re sixteen.”

“No,” Daegal said, bewildered by Merlin’s sudden bizarre intensity.  “Seventeen.”

“Since when?”

“I had my birthday last month.”

“You what?”

Daegal, confused, looked between Merlin and Will, the latter of whom sighed.  “Oh, lor.”

“What?” Daegal asked.  “Have I - is that bad?”

“Why didn’t you say something?” Merlin demanded, ignoring Daegal’s question.

“I don’t know,” Daegal replied, taken aback.  He hadn’t even thought of it at the time.  What was there to think about?  It was just another day.  Sometimes he didn’t even remember his birthday had happened until it was already over.  Once he hadn’t remembered until the last week in January, when he’d taken a courier job and been forced to lie about his age.

Merlin looked incensed.  Will, by contrast, looked like he was trying not to laugh.  “Right, then,” he said, getting up and tucking his carving into his pocket.  “I’m off.  You two have fun.”

Daegal had an absurd urge to beg Will to sit back down, because Merlin was starting to get a frankly loony look on his face and Daegal did not understand what was the matter.  But Will just patted Daegal on the top of the head on his way out - tap tap - and let the door swing closed behind him.  

Merlin, his hands on his hips, assessed Daegal with narrowed eyes.  

“I’m sorry?” Daegal ventured, unsure what he was apologizing for.

Merlin pressed his lips together.  “You and him,” he said, pointing to the door where Will had just exited, “you’re two of a kind, you know that?”

Daegal did not know.  He had no idea what Merlin was talking about, in fact, and he was afraid to ask.  He did not exactly want to apologize again, though, because that felt sort of like apologizing for being like Will (although why Merlin seemed to think this was the case was a mystery).

“Right,” Merlin said after a moment.  “Not to worry.  I’ll take care of it.”

Daegal hesitated.  “Take care of what?”

Merlin sighed and shook his head, but did not answer.  Daegal decided that perhaps it would be best if he did not needle Merlin with further questions right now.  His mentor was acting very strange, and Daegal could not possibly imagine what had gotten him so worked up. 

He would just have to ask Will about it later.

As it turned out, Daegal did not have a chance to ask Will about it later.

The next day, Will did not come by.  The day after that, Merlin sent Daegal out to collect more dried seedpods to replace the ones Daegal had mangled, which took all afternoon and was exhausting enough for Daegal to go straight to his little chamber in the servants’ wing and flop into bed after supper.

The morning after that, he woke to find a smiling Elyan hovering barely two inches above his face.  

Daegal stifled a gasp and only just barely stopped himself from whacking Elyan across the nose.  He scrambled upright in the bed, his back pressed against the wall.  “El - Sir Elyan!  What - ”

“Good morning,” Elyan said, as if he could not possibly have been happier to have gotten almost-smacked in the face.  “Merlin sent me down.  Said it’s your birthday.”

Daegal goggled at him.  “My what?”

“Your birthday,” Elyan repeated.  “Isn’t it?”

Daegal shook his head, certain that he was still asleep.  “No.”

“Merlin said you might say that.”  Elyan whipped the covers off Daegal’s legs.  “Up you get.  It’s time for breakfast.”

Daegal shivered violently, his sleep clothes providing little protection against the cold.  “I don’t normally - I’m supposed to go and help Gaius - ”

“Not today.  You’ve been given the day off.”

Daegal stared.  “What for?”

Elyan chuckled.  “Still asleep in there, I see,” he remarked, tossing Daegal a shirt.  “It’s your birthday.  Haven’t I just said that?”

“It’s not, though,” Daegal said, feeling as if he were speaking a different language.   “My birthday’s in November.”

“Not this year, it isn’t.”  Elyan grinned.  “Get dressed.  We’ve got all sorts of things do today.”

When Elyan had said ‘all sorts of things,’ Daegal had not expected one of those things to be a full breakfast served in the King and Queen’s personal chambers, catered by the King and Queen’s personal serving staff, and attended by the King and Queen themselves.

“I didn’t know,” Daegal whispered frantically to Merlin, as Elyan ushered him inside the room.  “Why wouldn’t you tell me?  I would have worn something else!”

“You don’t have anything else,” Merlin shot back under his breath.  “Relax.  Arthur put his undershirt on back to front this morning; he’s hardly Sir Stylish.”

Daegal gave Merlin a panicked, pleading stare, but Merlin just plunked Daegal down in a seat and left to pour the drinks.

“We’ve been meaning to do this for ages,” the Queen told him, sitting down next to Elyan.  “Merlin keeps you very busy, doesn’t he?”

Daegal’s mouth was too dry to formulate any sort of reply.  Only a few short months ago this very same woman had been standing at Morgana’s elbow, plotting Arthur’s assassination, and at the time, Daegal had not even realized there was anything wrong with her.  There was, after all, nothing hard to believe about a servant-turned-queen who’d gotten a taste for power and decided to keep climbing the ladder, and while Merlin had always been very adamant that Daegal would never have believed this of Gwen if he had ever met her previously, it was hard for Daegal to look at her and not remember how she had willingly embraced the woman who later tried to murder Merlin and threatened to do the same to Daegal, if he didn’t keep his mouth shut.

Merlin, busy setting out the ewery on a sidetable, heard Gwen’s comment and spared Daegal the necessity of replying.  “Arthur keeps me very busy,” he said, directing a pointed look at the king.  “If you’d like me to arrange your subjects’ social schedules on top of my other duties, Sire, perhaps you ought to hire someone else to look after your washing.”

Arthur waved a hand.  “Guinevere likes that funny thing you do with my socks.”

“Guinevere,” corrected the Queen , “thinks her husband is perfectly capable of rolling his own socks, thank you.”  She smiled encouragingly at Daegal.  “But enough about the laundry.  We’d been meaning to have you round for a meal, to say thank you, and Merlin mentioned that it was your birthday, so we thought now would be the perfect time.”

Daegal barely even heard the bit about his birthday, instead fixated on what had come just before it.  Thank him?  What for?  He had nearly gotten the king killed.  

“Merlin tells us you’ve been helping Gaius?” Arthur prompted.  

Daegal nodded. 

“He’s a fine physician.  If you’re pursuing a path in the healing arts, you couldn’t ask for a better teacher.”

“Is that something you’re interested in?” Guinevere asked, warm interest written across her face.

Daegal’s eyes darted helplessly to Merlin, who nodded encouragingly.  Daegal cleared his throat.  “Er - I think so.  Maybe.  Merlin says I’m picking it up quickly.”

“Well, you’ve already saved one life,” Arthur said with a grin, gesturing at himself, “so if that’s any indication of your capabilities, I expect you’ll do well.”  He offered Daegal a platter of pastries.  “Tell us about your studies.”

The meal continued on in much the same fashion, with Gwen and Arthur asking Daegal questions and Elyan occasionally putting in a comment or two of his own.  Daegal did his best to answer honestly, even as he was plied with heaps of food, most of which was comprised of dishes he had never had the chance to try before and all of which flavors he was certain he would never be able to remember later, given how worked up he was.  Arthur was gracious and charming throughout, very unlike the man who often featured in Merlin’s grumbling suppertime complaints.  Elyan talked to Merlin as much as he did to either of the royal guests, which was probably a breach of some kind of protocol, though nobody seemed to mind.  And the Queen - the Queen looked exactly the same as she had when Daegal had first met her, minus the cloak and surreptitious glances, and if he hadn’t known better, he would have thought nothing had changed.  

Except - 

There came one moment, towards the end of the meal, when Merlin put a goblet down in front of Gwen with a playful and very exaggerated “Your Majesty,” and Gwen jabbed his knee with a fork under the table where Arthur couldn’t see, all the while both of them keeping their eyes locked on each other as if daring the other one to laugh first, and it was then that Daegal knew with absolute certainty that this was not the same woman he had met that night in the woods.  

“I hope you’ll accept this token of the Crown’s appreciation,” Arthur said to Daegal later, when they had finally finished their meal and risen from their chairs.  “You’ve done this kingdom a tremendous service, and I’m indebted to you.”  He passed Daegal a very official-looking bit of folded parchment stamped with the royal seal, which Daegal knew it would not be appropriate to open now.  He took it and bowed the way Merlin had shown him.

“And there’s something from me, too,” said Guinevere.  “Only it would have been a bit difficult to get it up the steps - Elyan will take you to see it instead.  I think you’ll find it useful, given that you’re apprenticing to our physicians.”

Daegal could not possibly imagine what on earth could have been so unwieldy that she could not get it up the stairs, but he bowed to her as well.  “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“Thank you,” she said, in a more solemn voice.  “For helping, when I couldn’t help myself.”

Daegal straightened, hesitant.  Her eyes - it seemed ludicrous to Daegal, now, that he had not recognized the enchanted version of her for what it was.  That hollow shell had had no soul.

“I’m sorry for what happened to you,” he blurted out.  “I wish I could’ve done more.”

“You’ve done more than enough,” Arthur said, wrapping a steady arm around his wife’s shoulders.  “For both of us.  We owe you a great deal.”

Daegal bowed to both of them again, and Elyan escorted him to the door.  “Oh, and Daegal?” Gwen added.  

Daegal stumbled over his own feet trying to turn around.  “Your Majesty?”

She smiled at him.  “Happy birthday.”

“What did Arthur give you, then?” Elyan asked, once they were out in the street.

Daegal fingered the mystery envelope.  He did not know, and honestly, his head was spinning too much for him to even think about puzzling out a jumble of words right now, especially when he was only just learning his letters to begin with.

“Can I have a look?” Elyan asked, and Daegal willingly handed him the parchment.  Elyan slipped a finger under the seal and unfolded the document, parsing it with a speed Daegal had pretty much despaired of ever achieving for himself.

“Mm,” Elyan said.  “Thought so.  Typical kingly stuff.”

“What is it?” 

“Land grant,” Elyan said, handing back the parchment, and then, as if this were nothing to worry about, he turned and ambled into the stables.

Daegal stared after him.  “What?”   

“Land grant,” Elyan repeated.  “You know, like a knight’s fee.  For services rendered to the Crown.”  He wandered deeper down the central aisle of the stable, stalled horses on either side of him lifting their heads.  “Come on.  It’s through here.”

Stunned, Daegal followed him, his fingers clutching at the incomprehensible slip of parchment.  “I can’t own land,” he protested.  “I don’t own a second pair of shoes.”

“You do now.  Or you can afford to, at least.”  Elyan glanced back at Daegal.  “Don’t worry, it’s a small plot.  Just a little square out in the Sprawl.”

Outside the city walls, then.  “I don’t - what am I supposed to do with it?”

“You could live there.”

“But - ”  Daegal stared at Elyan’s back uncomprehendingly.  “I live in the Citadel.”

“Rent it?”

Daegal’s head was going to explode.  “Will says landlords are leeches,” he said faintly.

Elyan laughed.  “Herb garden?” he suggested.  “Merlin’s always sending you off to gods know where, searching for things you could grow yourself.”

Daegal hardly knew what to say to that, but Elyan stopped walking before Daegal could think of anything coherent.  “Here we are,” Elyan announced, clapping a hand down on top of a stall door to his left.  

A wave of misgiving flooded Daegal, temporarily wiping away the lingering shock of the land grant.  “Are we riding somewhere?”  

He had not considered this, and he did not want to admit that the only way he was going to be able to ride anywhere at all was on the back of someone else’s saddle.  He had never had access to a horse himself, and had only had the opportunity to ride twice in the past - the first occasion had been extremely brief, and the second had ended in him being thrown, so he was not quite sure that it counted.

“Not today,” Elyan said.  “Unless you count the training ring.”

“Sorry?”

“Merlin says you don’t know how to ride.”

“Yeah,” Daegal said.  He could feel himself turning red.  “I mean - no, I don’t know how.  Not well.  I don’t need to.  I don’t have a horse.”

“Didn’t have a horse,” Elyan said, as if making a correction.

“What?”

Elyan gestured at the stall they were standing next to.  “Couldn’t get her up the stairs.”

Daegal’s mouth popped open.  The creature Elyan was pointing to was a dark bay with an irregular, splotchy white blaze down her muzzle, her smooth coat appearing nearly black in the dim light of the stables.  She was stout and smoothly muscled, watching them with a calm, composed energy, and even as Daegal stared, she stretched her neck over the stall door and sniffed at Elyan’s hands, perhaps searching for any remnants of his recent breakfast.

“My sister,” Elyan said proudly, scratching the horse’s cheek, “is aces at presents.”

“She’s not for me,” Daegal croaked disbelievingly.

“Of course she is,” Elyan assured him.  “She’s the same stock as Merlin’s.  Steady temperament, friendly, not likely to spook.  Not like Arthur’s beasts.”

A horse, Daegal thought numbly.  A horse. 

“I can’t take this,” he mumbled.  “It’s too much.”

“Of course it’s not too much.  You saved the king’s life.”

I almost killed him! Daegal wanted to shout, but Elyan would not understand.  

“And you’ll need transportation, anyhow,” Elyan continued.  “You can’t be jogging along behind Merlin on foot.  Apprentices in the royal household have mounts, or they can’t do their work.”

Daegal bit the inside of his cheek.  “I don’t even know how to ride her.”

The horse cocked her ears in Daegal’s direction and swung her blocky head around to inspect him, her dark brown eyes sedate and trusting.  “What do you think we’re here to practice?” Elyan asked cheerfully, retrieving a halter and lead rope from a hook on the wall.  “Go on, say hello to her.”

Daegal’s hand came up of its own accord, hovering in the air below his new mount’s nose.  She lipped at his fingers curiously.  “Hello,” Daegal breathed.

He didn’t deserve her.  He knew he didn’t.  

But he was falling in love with her anyway.

It was a very windswept and breathless Daegal who climbed off his horse later that day and ran to greet Merlin at the fence.  

Evening was coming on, and the temperature had sunk as quickly as the sun, but Daegal did not even notice the stiffness in his fingers or the tightness in his cheeks.  He was too carried away with the elation of riding, and the dizzying knowledge that he now had the means to go anywhere he wanted, anytime, without begging for rides in the back of strangers’ wagons.  Months ago he would have killed for this kind of ability to roam.  

It was strange, now that he finally had the freedom to run away whenever he pleased, that he no longer felt he had anything to run away from.

“Having fun?” Merlin asked, elbows resting on the fence.

Daegal did not think fun was the right word.  There was just no good way to explain that he felt like a menagerie bear whose shackles had slipped, or a noblewoman’s bird escaping out a cracked window.  “It’s brilliant,” he said, settling for a completely inadequate adjective.  “It’s the best thing I’ve ever done.”

“And he’s good at it!” Elyan put in, walking Daegal’s horse over to the gate.  “We’ve only been out here one day and he’s got her cantering already - I think this beast is talking to him.”

If Daegal’s cheeks had not been whipped rosy by the wind already, they were certainly turning pink now.  “No,” he said to Merlin, “not - talking to me.  Obviously not.  Just - I sort of feel like I understand her, is all.”

Merlin did not seem to think this was strange at all, and produced a chunk of some sort of winter root vegetable from his coat, offering it to the horse.  She snapped it up eagerly.  “Animals talk,” Merlin said, shrugging.  “It’s people as don’t know how to listen that get kicked in the nethers.”  

He untied the gate for Elyan, who led the horse through it and started up the path back to the stables proper.  “How was your day?” Merlin asked Daegal, as the three of them walked, Elyan leading the horse on one side, and Merlin and Daegal on the other.

Daegal had to think before answering.  It had been, by a wide margin, the strangest day he had ever experienced in Camelot, starting with Elyan’s surprise appearance that morning and punctuated by a number of other unexpected visitors.  Leon had arrived in the stables not long after Elyan and Daegal, bringing with him a collection of exquisitely embroidered tack (“Part of Her Majesty’s gift,” he’d explained), and then he’d spent the next hour walking Daegal through the various bits and pieces, guiding him through the process of putting them on his mount and taking them off again.  Percival had dropped by with his own mount and accompanied Daegal on a slow ride outside the ring, along the edge of the woods - Elyan had ridden in the saddle behind Daegal, just to be safe, but he had not had to take the reins from Daegal once, and they had gone on a nice plodding walk around the frostbitten perimeter of what would be fairgrounds, come summer.  Even Mordred had made a brief appearance, in his oddly intense way - apparently out for a ride of his own, watching Elyan and Daegal lungeing Daegal’s mount for a few minutes, before nodding to the both of them and continuing on his way, his own horse cresting the hill so smoothly that it appeared as if it were not touching the ground.

“It was strange,” Daegal decided.

Merlin walked along beside him, his boots crunching on the frostbitten grass.  “Why?”

“I don’t know.  All these people - ”  Daegal paused, brushing a hand against his horse’s flank.  “I don’t see why they’re taking an interest.”

“It’s your birthday,” Merlin replied.  “People are supposed to make a fuss.”

Daegal was not sure about that.  It had not ever been his experience in the past, at least.  “It’s not really my birthday, though.”

“Only because I didn’t know about it.”

They continued walking, Daegal worrying at his lip.  “I shouldn’t have said anything,” he said abruptly, after a minute.

“You’re not enjoying yourself?”

Daegal shook his head quickly.  “I am.”  Too much, he thought.  His exhilaration at being taught how to ride had driven it from his mind for a while, but now - 

Elyan waved to someone up ahead, interrupting Daegal’s thoughts.  There in the stableyard was Gwaine, lounging against the edge of the open doors, dressed not in his crimson surcoat but in plain clothes, and tossing a small pouch from hand to hand.  

“You’re early,” Merlin called to him.  “We’ve still got to groom and water this creature.”

“I thought I was supposed to be in charge of the watering,” Gwaine replied, which seemed like a very odd thing to say.  “Wasn’t that the plan?”

“I’m talking about the horse.”

Gwaine pushed himself off the wall, joining the little group as they entered the yard.  “Our guest of honor,” he said, indicating Daegal.  “This fellow’s been doing our job for us, Elyan.  Saving the king is knight’s work, isn’t it?”

Elyan led the horse past Gwaine with a smirk.  “How would you know?  You’ve never done a bit of it.”

Gwaine shook his head, glancing at Daegal in a comradely way.  “Why does everybody think I only took this job for the food?” 

Daegal, who had only rarely interacted with Gwaine before, did not know what to answer, but Merlin saved him the trouble.  “Because we know you,” he said, and then smiled when Gwaine gave him a crooked grin.

That was utter nonsense.  Even Daegal knew that Gwaine had nearly died during Morgana’s occupation, specifically while fighting to keep a number of his fellow prisoners from starving - but Merlin and Gwaine were a bit like Merlin and Will in that way, at least to Daegal’s limited experience, wherein Gwaine did not always want people to see him for what he truly was, and Merlin always chose to see him anyway, if only from behind a mutually agreed-upon smokescreen of affectionate teasing.

“Well, let’s hurry it up,” Gwaine said, tossing his little bag in the air.  “I’d like to get on with my bit.”

His bit?  

Gwaine paused in front of the empty stall while Elyan gathered what they would need for a post-ride grooming.  “I hear it’s your birthday,” Gwaine said to Daegal, and then before Daegal could explain that it wasn’t, exactly, Gwaine handed Daegal the little leather bag.  “There’s for you, then.”

Daegal, surprised, loosened the cinched string at the top of the pouch and tipped the contents into his other hand.  Out tumbled four dice, the smoothly-carved cubes clacking against one another as they fell into Daegal’s palm.  

Daegal looked up at Gwaine, confused.

“I thought you could use them,” Gwaine said.  

“For what?”

Gwaine grinned and exchanged a knowing look with Merlin.  “My bit.”

Daegal stared at at the dice in his hand, then snapped his gaze up to Merlin, suddenly seized by a burst of excitement.  “Are we - ”

Merlin held up a finger.  “On three conditions,” he declared, obviously trying not to smile.  

Daegal closed his fingers tightly around the dice, trying not to appear too eager.

“One: you’re going to untack and groom your mount.  The stablehands will do that for you, when you ride out with our party, but she’s your responsibility.  You have to know how to take care of her.”

Daegal had no objections to that.  He already loved this horse better than anything he’d ever owned.

“Two: weak drinks only.”

We’ll see, Gwaine mouthed behind Merlin.

“Three - ”  Merlin held up a third finger.  “You leave when I leave.  Will’s right about the after-curfew crowd.  That’s a sort of trouble you don’t need.”  He looked expectantly at Daegal.  “Agreed?”

“Agreed.”  Daegal nodded fervently.  “Is it - who’s coming?”  

“Everybody!” Elyan supplied happily, uncinching the horse’s girth.  “You saved our king.  We owe you a night out.”   

Merlin, who had perhaps understood Daegal’s question better, said, “Everybody who likes drinks and dicing and general uproar.” 

This statement prompted appreciative, anticipatory grins from Gwaine and Elyan, and Daegal refrained from asking any follow-up questions, having understood the answer perfectly well.  He had been working with Merlin long enough to know that if there were one thing Will avoided more assiduously than King Arthur, it was large groups of loud people losing their heads over absolutely nothing.

“Let’s get started, then,” Gwaine said.  “D’you think you can untack this beast and learn the rules to Hazard at the same time?”

Daegal stuffed the dice into his pocket and grasped the bridle’s noseband buckle.  “I can try.”

Gwaine grinned wolfishly.  “That’s just what I like to hear.”

They ended up staying a bit later than they’d intended. 

By the time Merlin finally had the sense to bring the evening to a close, Daegal had turned the single half-penny he had started with into several silver pieces (“Alchemy!” Gwaine had proclaimed triumphantly, knocking his cup into Daegal’s so that some of the drink had sloshed over), and Daegal had become very popular with some of the tavern regulars, who were beyond tickled to see a seventeen year-old boy flatten strangers’ smug expectations of victory.  Daegal had not won every time, of course, but he had gotten extremely lucky at several critical moments and had at the very end miraculously thrown his chance number twice, after the odds had already been declared heavily against him (and thus after the other players had upped their contribution to Daegal’s stake with the expectation that he would lose).

Merlin had pulled Daegal from the game after that, sitting him back down at the knights’ table, which was piled high with food and drink.  “First lesson,” he’d said, offering Daegal a very watered-down ale, “and one you won’t learn from Gwaine - quit while you’re ahead.” 

They had stayed for a long time after that, socializing and eating their fill, until Merlin had finally seemed to take notice of the time (or perhaps of the slightly seedy-looking characters who had started to wander in through the back entrance).  Merlin, at that point, had prompted Daegal to gather his winnings, say his goodbyes, and make his exit, pursued by a chorus of enthusiastic farewells from the knights, none of whom showed any sign of abandoning their seats anytime soon.

Stepping out into the night air was like diving into a frozen moat.  Daegal drew his cloak tighter around his torso as he and Merlin wound their way through the town.  The Rising Sun’s interior had been as stiflingly hot as its namesake, overflowing with a press of bodies and thrumming with a constant cacophony of conversation, and even from the outside its closed shutters leaked driblets of light and noise, as if the building were bursting at the seams.  The town, by contrast, was stone-silent and frigid, everybody shut up in their homes waiting for the weak light of morning. 

“You did well,” Merlin said, as they approached the citadel.  “You’re sure you’ve never played Hazard before?”

Daegal shook his head.  His mother would never have let him, before, and after - 

He pushed that thought away, watching his breath mist in front of his face.  He’d never had enough money to gamble with after that, that was all.

“You weren’t helping me, were you?” Daegal asked Merlin.

“No, you got lucky.”  Merlin chuckled.  “The look on that fellow’s face...”

Daegal smiled faintly, remembering.  Daegal had taken rather a lot of money from a beefy, belligerent fellow who had been bothering everybody all night, which had resulted in a vastly improved tavern experience for all when the man had stormed out in a rage, and which had also earned a round of free drinks for Daegal’s table.  “He wasn’t too pleased, was he?”

“No, he wasn’t.  Not quite the sort of evening he was expecting to have, I don’t think.”

They walked on, approaching the retracted drawbridge, and detoured to the parallel pedestrian crossing instead, passing through the smaller door to the bridge’s left and entering the courtyard, Merlin offering a hello to the familiar guards as they went.

“How does it feel to be older?” Merlin asked, as they crossed the darkened square.

Daegal shrugged.  “I don’t know.  The same, I suppose.”

But that wasn’t exactly true, Daegal thought, as they entered the base of the North Tower.  Last year, things had been very different.  A few months ago, he could never have dreamed of the sort of day he’d been having today.  And now - 

He hesitated at the bottom of the stair leading to the physician’s chambers.  Merlin, oblivious to the fact that Daegal was not right behind him, kept climbing.  

“Why are you doing all this?” Daegal asked.  His voice sounded strange in his own ears, or maybe that was just a function of the echo in the hollow space, his words bouncing off the stone shell on either side of him.

Merlin turned around, surprised to see Daegal still standing at the bottom of the stairs.  “All what?”

Daegal made an uncertain gesture.  “This.  All these things today...I don’t understand.”

“It’s your birthday,” Merlin said, as if that made any sense at all.

“It’s not, though,” Daegal said.  “Even if it were, I don’t see - I mean, it doesn’t matter.”  He shrugged uncomfortably.  “Who cares?”

Merlin stared levelly at Daegal.  “I do,” he said.

A long silence ensued.  Daegal could not possibly have formulated a reply to this even if he’d known what to say, but Merlin did not ask him to respond, instead descending a few steps and putting a hand on Daegal’s elbow, nudging him up the staircase.  “Come on,” he said quietly.  “It’s late.”

Daegal followed him without a word, stunned and silent, seven stories straight up.

“Isn’t it a bit past your bedtime, old man?” Merlin said, immediately upon opening the doors to the physician’s chambers.  

Daegal, trailing behind, thought this was a very unusual way for Merlin to address Gaius, but as he peered around Merlin’s shoulder, he realized it was not Gaius to whom Merlin was speaking, but Will, who was sitting by the little hearthfire at the left of the room with his feet propped up on a stool.  

“No,” Will replied, though he did look like he was ready to doze off.  “It might be a bit past Arthur’s, though.”

Merlin swore and stopped dead in the doorway.  “He sent somebody up?”

“Several somebodies.”

“What did you tell them?

Will waved an unconcerned hand.  “I don’t remember.”   

“Will - ”

“Isn’t he waiting for you to turn down his sheets or something?”

“Did you tell them I was at the tavern?”

Will smirked.  

Merlin, cursing under his breath, took Daegal by the upper arms and maneuvered him into the room.  “Drink some water.  Kip on the patient cot - you’re up early collecting pots with Gaius tomorrow; you might as well sleep here.”  He tore off his outerwear and dumped it on a table.  “You,” he said to Will, “on the other hand, can go home, you ass.”

Will tipped his chair back, cupping a hand to his ear.  “What’s that?  ‘Have my bed, William’?  All right, if you say so.”

Merlin flashed Will a rude gesture before tearing out of the room.  Daegal caught the door before it could slam and closed it carefully, so as not to disturb Gaius, who was sleeping behind the screens that had been drawn around his corner.

Will rose from his seat with a yawn, stretching.  “So you had your evening out at last.”

Daegal did not answer him, his mind still trapped back there in the stairwell with Merlin.  I do, he heard again, as he struggled to untie his cloak.  I do.  

“Was it everything you thought it would be?”

Daegal managed to undo the knot, his fingers clumsy with cold.  He pulled his cloak from his shoulders and folded it slowly, first in half, then in fours, and then laid it aside before doing the same with Merlin’s rumpled jacket, single-mindedly focused on his task.

“I hope you at least took something off Gwaine.  Fellow’s too cocky for his own good.”

Daegal, out of things to fold, stared at his hands.  Will came closer, scrutinizing Daegal in the low light.  “How much did you have to drink?” 

Daegal stuck his hands into his pockets, avoiding Will’s gaze.  Not much, was the true answer, but he couldn’t find the words.  

He fingered the coins in his pocket, the silver pieces cold and clinking against one another.  

“Oi,” Will said, frowning.  He tipped Daegal’s chin up to see his eyes.  “You all right in there?”

Morgana had given Daegal a sack of coins just like this, once.

Daegal yanked his hands out of his pockets as if he had been burned, jerking back from Will’s fingers.  

“This is wrong,” he blurted out.

Will blinked at him.  “Sorry?”

“I can’t do this.  It’s - I can’t.  It’s not right.”

“What isn’t?”

“Everything!  The birthday, the money, the tavern, the riding - ”  Daegal's voice was rising, but he could not rein himself in.  He had been trying to tell this to someone all day.  “The horse, the land, breakfast - ”

Will stared at him, confounded.  “Breakfast?”

Daegal struggled mightily not to holler in frustration.  Will, of all people, ought to have understood, but it appeared he was committed to being just as obtuse as everyone else.  “Yes!  I don’t deserve it; it isn’t right - ”

Will’s eyebrows shot up.  He did not give Daegal another chance to wake Gaius, but planted a hand on Daegal’s shoulder and spun him around, muttering, “Go,” in a low voice, pushing Daegal away from Gaius’s sleeping area in the direction of Merlin’s chambers.  Daegal allowed himself to be marched up the little staircase, Will following, until they were both in Merlin’s room, the small chamber chilly and cloaked with shadows, lit only by a single hanging candle.  

Closing the door, Will turned back to Daegal.  “Start over,” he commanded.

Daegal whipped out Arthur’s envelope.  “The King - he gave me a land grant.”

Will snatched the piece of parchment out of Daegal’s hand, scanning it briefly.  “So?” he said, discarding the envelope onto Merlin’s desk.  “He can afford it.”

“But it’s - ”

“Nothing he’ll miss.”

“But - ”

“But what?”

“The Queen - ”

“What about her?”

“She gave me a horse.”

Will shrugged.  “And?”

“It’s too much!  I can’t - ”

“Are you planning to thank her for it?”

“Yes.”

“You’re going to take care of it?”

“Of course!”

“Then what’s the trouble?  She wanted you to have it.”

“She gave it to me for the wrong reasons!” Daegal exclaimed frustratedly.  “She kept saying I helped her, but I didn’t do anything.  I didn’t even know she needed help.  I thought she wanted the throne for herself - ”

“You stopped her killing her husband,” Will said, interrupting.  “You saved his life.”

“I didn’t save him.  I almost killed him.  I’m the reason he needed help in the first place.  But all of them are acting like - ”  Daegal thought back to earlier that night, to Elyan, who had shown Daegal how to calculate Hazard odds in his head; to Leon, who had spoken to Daegal like one of the adults; to Percival, who had taught Daegal the less savory lyrics to the tavern’s favorite drinking songs; and to Gwaine, who had murmured advice in Daegal’s ear while Daegal cast his dice.  “They kept saying I’d done their job for them.  They - ”  

A horrible, hollow feeling bloomed in Daegal’s chest, strangling his voice.  He pulled the coins out of his pocket and dumped them onto Merlin’s desk, not wanting to carry that cold weight for another moment.  “They don’t know me.  They don’t know what I’m like.”

Will watched him closely, his eyes narrowing.  “What are you like?”  

Daegal shook his head and sank down onto Merlin’s bed, staring at the floor.  He didn’t want to say it.  He shouldn’t need to say it.  Will already knew the whole story; Daegal shouldn’t have needed to retread all the ugly details.  

Will folded his arms, leaning back against the top of Merlin’s desk.  The single candle did very little to illuminate his set expression, but the moonlight in the window behind him threaded his silhouette with silver.

“I shouldn’t have said anything about my birthday,” Daegal murmured, his voice thick.  “I should have just kept it quiet.  That’s what you do, isn’t it?”

Will frowned.  “Who said that?”

“Merlin.  When I didn’t mention my birthday - he said you were - well, he said we were two of a kind.”

Will shook his head.  “I don’t hide my birthday.”

“I think you must,” Daegal said stubbornly, returning to his intense inspection of the floorboards.  “Because I don’t even know when it is.”

“Neither do I.”

Daegal looked up, surprised.  “What?��

“I don’t know when my birthday is.”

“Why - ”

Will lifted a finger repressively, and Daegal realized he was not going to be getting that part of the story tonight, or maybe ever.  “It doesn’t matter,” Will said.  “I don’t care.  I don’t fancy it much, anyhow.  It’s nothing to me.  Merlin, though - ”  He gestured at the room around them, at the mussed bedclothes and the stacked manuscripts and the sketched diagrams pasted to the walls.  “He doesn’t like it when I say things like that.  It bothers him.  He’s got ideas about how these things are supposed to be done, and he thinks it’s wrong, not telling me happy birthday, even if I’d rather he just left it alone.”

Daegal had no trouble believing it, if Merlin’s reaction to Daegal’s skipped birthday were anything to go by.  “But then - ”  Daegal frowned.  “He mustn’t know when your birthday is, either.”

“My birthday,” Will said, in a long-suffering way, “is whenever Merlin decides he wants it to be.  He comes crawling into my cott at some godsforsaken hour of the morning on whatever personally convenient day he’s picked that year, and then he yanks me out of bed and feeds me too much food and drags me all over creation doing the sort of things he thinks I’ll like doing.  I’ve been telling him to drop it for more years than you’ve been alive, but he never listens.  It doesn’t matter how much I whinge about it.  He never forgets.  He can’t help himself.  He thinks it’s important, telling people he’s happy they were born, even if they don’t think being born was such a fantastic thing themselves.”  

Will gestured at Daegal.  “If you’re going to be one of his people now, you’re going to have to get used to that.  You don’t have to like it, but you’ve got to understand it.  That’s who he is.  That’s how he treats people.  He won’t give you a pass on birthday fuss just because you don’t think you’re worth fussing over.  He’s not built that way.”

Daegal heard Merlin’s words again, echoing against the frozen stones of the stairwell.  Who cares? Daegal had asked.  

I do.

He twisted his fingers together.  Out in the physician’s chamber proper, Gaius was snoring.  

“It’s not just Merlin, though,” Daegal said finally, in a soft voice.  “Everybody - all of them are doing too much.”

“Too much how?”

“They keep thanking me.  But the gifts are - I didn’t earn them.  I don’t deserve them.”

“Who told you that?”

“I don’t need anyone to tell me; I know.”  Daegal stared at Will, helpless to explain why Will’s inability to accept this simple truth made him feel so utterly lost at sea.  “I don’t understand this.  You’re the one who kept saying I did something wrong.”

“You did do something wrong,” Will replied, as if this entire line of discussion were so obvious that it did not need to be examined.  “But you did something right, too.”

“I - ”

Will held up a hand.  “Who was it nearly got themselves killed saving Pendragon’s gleaming hide?  Who was it betrayed Morgana?”

“Me, but - ”

“Who was it came back to save Merlin’s life?”

“From something I did to him in the first place.”

“From something Morgana did to him,” Will corrected.

“I helped,” Daegal retorted.  “You’re always saying - you said I need to take responsibility.”

“You do,” Will said.  “For all your choices.  Not just the shyte ones.”  He gestured at the door, back towards the rest of the castle.  “You saved two lives.  You nearly got yourself killed doing it.  That’s what they’re all thanking you for.  It’s not about what you did for yourself; it’s what you did for everyone else, when you didn’t have to.  You didn’t have to come back for Merlin.  You didn’t have to follow him to Camelot.  You could have just taken Morgana’s money and run.”

“I tried,” Daegal confessed, his mouth very dry.  “I tried.  I couldn’t do it.”

“Why not?” Will said, as if he already knew the answer.

“I just - couldn’t.”  Daegal remembered it with a nightmarish clarity, hesitating in the thickness of the undergrowth as the encroaching night muddled his vision, knowing that Merlin was suffocating at the bottom of a muddy ravine where no one would ever find his body.  “I felt like something was going to swallow me.  I would’ve rather died than felt like that all the time.”

“That’s because you know what’s right and what’s wrong,” Will said, as if he had been waiting for Daegal to say this all along.  “And you chose right.”

“I chose wrong first.”

Will shook his head.  “Lots of people choose wrong first.  Doesn’t mean that what you choose next doesn’t matter.”

Daegal played with the hem of his sleeve, wrapping a fraying thread around his finger.  Will pushed himself up from the desk and dragged Merlin’s chair over to a spot across from Daegal, then sat down.  “Listen here,” he said.  “I can’t say I’d be too pleased to get a load of gifts that I didn’t think I ought to have, either.  But you can’t give them back, and you can’t convince people that you don’t deserve them, either.”  He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.  “You’ve got to just smile, and say thank you, and do your best to be worthy of everyone’s gifts.”

Daegal absorbed this, nodding slowly.  “I’m trying.”

“I know you are,” Will said.  “And so does everyone else.”  Will met Daegal’s gaze unflinchingly, his outline illuminated at the edges by the moon at his back.  “Don’t you ever tell me that lot doesn’t know what you’re like.  They know it better than you do.”

Daegal swallowed, not trusting himself to speak.  

“Now then,” Will said, linking his hands behind the back of his chair and stretching out his arms.  “This is rubbish timing, but you’ve got to start practicing sometime, so let’s just get it over with.”  He withdrew a thin, utensil-sized package from his pocket, extending it to Daegal.  “Don’t have a crisis, now.”

“Oh - no - ” Daegal moaned.

“Oi,” Will warned.  “What’ve we just talked about?”

Daegal took the parcel.

“Smile and say thank you,” Will prompted, when Daegal did not say anything right away.

Daegal managed a wobbly smile, and an even wobblier thank you, which Will, to Daegal’s very great relief, chose not to comment upon.

Daegal untied the parcel.  The cloth casing fell away, revealing a short and sturdy pocketknife encased in a plain leather sheath.  Daegal picked it up and turned it over in his hands, knowing immediately that Will had carved the handle himself.  It fit into Daegal’s hand as if it had been moulded from a plaster cast, and it was the only part of the knife sporting any decoration, inscribed as it was with an angular script that Daegal could not read in this light.  Daegal removed the sheath and found that the blade had been sharpened to a dangerous edge, the point glinting in the moonlight.

“Elyan did that bit,” Will said.  “It ought to hold an edge better than what you have now.”

“No more mashing seed pods,” Daegal murmured.

“Exactly.”

Daegal ran a finger over the symbols carved into the handle.  He hadn’t learned all his letters yet, but he thought he ought to have been able to recognize a few of them, at least.  “What’s this writing?”

“Oh, that,” Will said, as if he had almost forgotten.  “It’s spelled.”

“Spelled?”

“Magicked.  Against slips.  To spare your fingers.”  Will waggled his own fingers in the air, and Daegal had to laugh a little.

“Merlin?”

Will’s face took on a thoughtful look.  “No, actually.”  He pointed at the unfamiliar runes, his tone becoming more serious.  “Mordred says that if you’re going to exploit his people for personal gain, then you’re going to learn something about the culture.”

Daegal froze.  A chill ran through him.  He had never even considered - 

He gripped the inscribed handle with sweaty fingers, mortified.  “He’s angry with me.”

“No,” Will said.  “I don’t think so, at least.  It’s hard to tell with that fellow.”

At Daegal’s dismayed look, Will added, “He offered to spell the thing himself, at least, so I can’t imagine he’s too upset with you.  But he has every right to be, you realize that?”

Daegal nodded quickly.     

“You’re going to go and see him,” Will said, his voice calm, but his tone brooking no argument.  “And you’re going to apologize, and you’re going to listen to whatever it is he wants to tell you.  You understand?”

“Yes,” Daegal said quickly.  “I’ll do it.”  He glanced at the door.

“Not now,” Will clarified.  “Tomorrow.  He might not be angry just yet, but he will be if you yank him out of bed a few hours before he’s supposed to be on patrol.”

Daegal’s shoulders sagged.  Will was right, but Daegal could not stand the thought of waiting.  Yet another guilt-monster was chewing a hole in his stomach, and he was starting to think those gnawing teeth would never let him sleep.  He recalled, suddenly, with a fresh wave of horror, the outrage on Merlin’s face when Daegal’s falsified triskele had smeared away, how tightly Merlin’s fingers had dug into Daegal’s wrist.  

Here was one more stupid thing Daegal had done.  One more person he’d injured.  One more wrongheaded decision.  

His eyes drifted longingly towards the door again.  

“No,” Will said, shaking his head.  “You made that bed, now you lie in it for one night.”  

Daegal sighed, and Will’s tone softened.  “You’ll make it right in the morning,” he said.

Daegal traced one of the Druidic runes with a finger.  He supposed that was the best he could do.

Will stood up and beckoned for Daegal to join him.  “Listen,” he said, pushing Merlin’s chair back under the desk.  “It’s late.  I don’t want you up all night brooding over this, all right?”

“All right,” Daegal said, but he had a feeling he was in for yet another night of lying awake under a blanket of guilt he had woven for himself.

“And - not that this needs to be said, but let’s not tell anyone you’ve got a magic pocketknife, all right?  Pendragon will think I’ve been messing about with enchantments behind his back, and he’ll have me booted out of this kingdom faster than you can say insufferable bastard.”

“But you don’t have - ”

“Yes, I do,” Will reminded Daegal, giving him a significant look.  “And that’s exactly what you’re going to tell people, if anybody starts asking questions.”  He opened Merlin’s door, ushering Daegal through it.  “But let’s not give folk a reason to ask, all right?  Otherwise the next person trying to kill the king might be me, because if Pendragon wants me out of this place he’s going to have to execute me and exile my corpse, no matter if I did sign a stupid promise ‘renouncing the practice of magic in all its forms,’ or whatever other rubbish that idiot asked me to agree to.”

Daegal followed Will across the main chamber, watching while Will pulled on his outerwear.  “I’m guessing he never gave you a land grant, then?”

Will burst into laughter, leaning heavily on the door handle.  He only remembered to clap a hand over his mouth when a slumbering Gaius snorted and rolled over.  “Oh, lor,” he wheezed, trying to recover himself.  “Don’t do that to me.”  

Daegal smiled sheepishly.  Will straightened up, his eyes creased with pure, undisciplined mirth.  “You won’t let all those fancy presents go to your head, now, will you?”

“I won’t,” Daegal promised.   “But - about Arthur’s gift, though.  I don’t actually know what to do with a plot of land.”

“Neither does Arthur,” Will said, rolling his eyes.  “But I do, and so does Merlin.  We’ll work it out together, all right?”

“All right,” Daegal said, as Will unlatched the door.  “Erm.  Will - ”

“Yeah.”

Smile and say thank you.  “Thank you,” Daegal said, trying on a smile for size, hoping it did not falter too much at the corners.  “For the knife, and - everything else.”

Will regarded him in that way of his that was very off-putting when you did not want to be read like a book but somehow oddly useful when you were trying to communicate something unspoken.  “You’re welcome,” Will said finally, surprising Daegal by reaching out and mussing his hair.  “See?  You’ve got the hang of things already.”

Will turned to go, but when he reached the top of the staircase he paused, glancing back.  “And, listen - ” he said, his voice low enough not to wake Gaius, but somehow warm enough to push back the December chill.  “Whether you like it or not - happy birthday, lad.”

Daegal sat tucked away in one of the window nooks, his cloak wrapped around him like a blanket and the glass casement leaching heat away from his side.  Merlin was long since abed, and Gaius’s muffled snores filled the main chamber, a soft drone of sound behind the screens.  Outside, the moon hung chubby and ovoid in the sky, like a pale seed on a black field of soil, like the bulbs Daegal would plant in his new garden, which was out there somewhere, nestled in the farming fields of the Sprawl.

He rubbed his thumb over the unfamiliar runes carved into the handle of his birthday blade.  His sixteen year-old self would have thrown that knife away, just to be safe.  There would have been no reason for him to believe that someone he’d injured would ever magick a gift for him just to be helpful, and sixteen year-old Daegal would have assumed that the spell “to spare his fingers” was in fact a curse to make sure they all fell off.  

But seventeen year-old Daegal was determined not to think like that anymore.  He was not going to think the worst of everyone who tried to help him, and he was not going to throw away gifts, whether he thought he deserved them or not.  He was going to smile, and say thank you, and do his best to be worthy of what he’d been given.

He leaned his forehead against the cold glass, looking down at the flickering lights on the city walls and the dark countryside beyond.  The Sprawl’s rolling jumble of cottages and fields melted into a shadowy sea of forest, and far away, the looming bulk of the White Mountains towered over the skyline, the peaks’ black silhouettes only distinguishable at this hour by an absence of stars.  

It was a very big world, Daegal thought, following the craggy outline of the range with his eyes.  And he had made plenty of bad decisions blundering around within its borders, that was certain.  But there was something beautiful about it still, even in the dead of winter.  

And it was not nearly as bleak as it had appeared to be, this time last year.  

Seventeen was going to be different, Daegal told himself.  Like Merlin always said.  It won’t always be like this.  Things will be better.  Daegal could make them better.  He had chosen wrong first, but he could choose right next.  He could choose right from now on.  He had made a mistake, but he could make it right in the morning.  

And tonight - tonight, it was still his birthday.

It isn’t, his sixteen year-old self snapped.  

“It is,” Daegal said.  “It’s my birthday.”

Who cares, the voice scoffed.

Daegal wrapped his fingers around his unearned mark of forgiveness, the grooves of the rune-etched handle imprinting themselves into his skin.  “I do,”  he said firmly, putting every ounce of conviction he had behind the words.  “I do.”

His younger self shut its mouth.

Daegal smiled slightly.  “Happy birthday to me,” he murmured, and was surprised to find that for the first time in a long time, he actually meant it.  

Curled up against the window, he tucked his knife against his side and fixed his eyes on the horizon, settling in to wait for the sun.

#bbc merlin gen #fic #also fyi i know we haven't discussed the broader worldstate of this AU and you're welcome to change anything i chose to use here #but just for the purposes of this particular fic - lancelot did still die; but elyan did not #because i don't acknowledge writing decisions that had no narrative integrity 🙃 #the once and future slowburn #verse: offcut joinery #the physician's apprentice #no kings no masters

[will80sbyers]

i just kinda find it funny that people would think that mike actually had no crush on el but only thought that he did, but then completely miss that the same logic applies to his monologue in this case when mike is giving that monologue while believing in the words he says even if they are not exactly the truth, he believes it which means he didn't lie.... like... it is basically the same logic as you said, LOL.

also, it's just very hilarious that many people will just dig under the narrative to find minuscule details and parallels, but they completely miss the way mike and his situation are paralleled to other media and situations that the duffers took inspo from. based on the many inspo they used, it basically shows that mike is oblivious and clueless rather than hiding himself.... he is literally paralleled to clueless/oblivious characters from other media. laurie, beverly, the character from the movie ''clueless'', c'mon... there's even more. his situation is not that he is lying or hiding himself to hide his secret gay thoughts. he just is clueless. that does not make his situation ''less interesting'' either... because being clueless is a very common romantic trope that is used in fiction. and it particularly exists in love triangles as well, esp if the person in the love triangle is in the middle of this love triangle, they are portrayed as either 'oblivious' or clueless about their own real feelings and are portrayed as being oblivious to other person's feelings towards them. (1)

honestly at the end of the day, it is a very common romantic trope and i just wish ppl would realize that when they're blaming us just because we are saying that mike believed what he said in his monologue and he wasn't lying... we cannot just claim and point out to certain romantic parallels that exist in this love triangle, but completely disregard the other obvious parallels between, such as mike being paralleled to laurie (esp the whole monologue thing), mike being paralleled to beverly or mike being paralleled to the character from clueless... etc. it would be disingenuous to ignore these, and it would be just selective-picking some scenes and parallels while ignoring the obvious ones. the duffers arent ''lying'' guys, they and finn are being truthful when they say that mike is oblivious.... because that's what the narrative portrays in addition to the parallels and inspo they used. (2)

----------

oh yeah I think the narrative is going there, I mean I don't find it funny really... I just don't understand??? like when people make angry posts saying "omg how can you think he isn't lying because xy... are you stupid?!?!"

like, the concept is not difficult even if you disagree, I understand when people say Mike believed he had a crush on El but he didn't really, it's clear... I just personally don't agree🤔

I definitely don't mind that people look for minuscole stuff in the show because I do the same for fun but, like you said, I don't understand ignoring part of the stuff we have

I personally can't do it because if I start to think the Miele parallels are not romantic and the Miele framing doesn't matter... I can't think at the same time that the byler ones are...

plus I don't get why the writers would do something like this, it would just be super confusing for the non bylers viewers at this point especially with the monologue involved and it would give so many contrasting feelings about the narrative instead of closing it in an elegant way focusing on the really important thing that is the love between all of these characters :/

#byler #will byers #mike wheeler #ask #el hopper byers

[haleviyah]

A Hispanic/ Latino Perspective: Border Clarification

This is one of the rare times I’m going to get somewhat political here, but these comments spread by the media are hitting to way close to home for me, so here I go.

Before you pounce on me, let me explain this: I am a moderate. I favor no sides, I don’t treat people by their titles but rather I prefer to judge by character even though I am not the best at it, admittedly. I favour and respect those who keep their word and own their mistakes. In short, if you do what you promise to do, you have my approval whereas if not, you will bear the brunt of my blunt rebukes and sarcastic remarks.

I am also from South Texas, specifically the Rio Grande Valley, and am a descendent of two humble Mexican families who since the Mexican Border War have made Texas their great escape and home.

Bit of a geographical reference, if you don’t know here where the Rio Grande Valley is. Look at the state of Texas, there is a bulge of state going in each direction that makes it look like a fat, lower-case ”t” : El Paso is the most West of the state, the Panhandle (Amarillo) the Northmost, Texarkana the most Eastward followed by Houston, and WAAAAAAY at the bottom is Brownsville and the Southernmost tip of Texas.

And for those of you too lazy to Google or "DuckDuckGo" the map yourself I've attached it:

The four counties: Hidalgo, Cameron, Starr and Willacy county make up the Rio Grande Valley. This is the region I grew up, the place where I experienced the best of a community and the worst of politics and failed promises.

For a bit of background: I have a parent working on the Border and they have been for many years (since I was a kid). Pretty much worked from a security officer to trooper within the span of a decade which is quite impressive and rare considering they never took bribes or anything to get where they were currently. They have told me off and on what their job is like. It’s crazy and boring some days, but also they have admitted somethings that may be fascinating. One of which is, yes, they do own horses and the reason why is so the Troopers can maneuver around tough terrain vehicles cannot go through (such as high water or narrow foot paths in brush). HOWEVER, they DO NOT OWN WHIPS. They don’t even own lassos, according to my Border Agent parent.

The only weapons agents on horse back have is a Glock, ammo, a taser, cuffs, and sometimes shot guns (but they prefer to carry light for the horses and themselves to be more flexible). They mainly carry items that would slow a person down or prevent them from hurting other people, officer or civilian; not for killing. So a whip is absolutely redundant or even absurd to have.

Those long ropes the Troopers are holding are called reins, and they are designed for steering a horse (horses cannot move opposite of the direction of their head; where their head is pointed they move in that direction). They are not made for whipping people, but rather made to get the horse’s attention. That’s it.

I took the liberty of highlighting the reins in red for you all as well as their arms and legs in blue and yellow in contrast to the reins and saddle.

It's clear from a Texan's or horse-riders perspective this Trooper almost fell off catching the other fellow and was holding onto the left rein for dear life hence why the horse looked distressed and its cheek was pulled back.

I'm not joking, you fucking try it if you're so damn horse-smart.

Now, let's look at a more relaxed position.

In short, if you haven't ridden a horse, I advise to keep your comments to yourself on this part. I have and it's way harder than it looks (horses can get cocky).

Second thing, the migrants.

Personally, I don’t know why they were so squirrelly that day. Perhaps they were spooked because they’ve never expected horse back riders to show up, maybe they had some bad experiences back home.

I don’t know!

But it’s clear there appears to be a lack of communication. Perhaps it’s the language barrier given that these guys came from Haiti, African countries and Brazil. English they probably know, but they probably don’t speak a lick of Spanish (Which both languages are mandatory for the Border Patrol).

(Again, I don't know...)

So the reasons why they started running circles around the Troopers’ horses is not for me to speculate, it’s not for YOU to defend blindly, nor is it up for the media to interpret and evangelize.

That should be left to the people to explain. No one else.

(Update: September 29th. I received a tip from a source that the Haitian immigrants (mainly) are not running from anything, they aren’t seeking asylum nor were in poverty as the media claims. They have admitted upon interview they were what we consider middle-low class and had no issues finding jobs before they decided to migrate northward. They’re just coming because they were told to come by “you-know-who”… that’s all. I know, I’m taken aback and scratching my head, too… but anyway. I digress, but do take note.)

Now, another bit of feedback I want to share: When it comes to dealing with Troopers (again, must I remind you this is a Border Patrol agent’s kid speaking), big rule:

DO NOT RUN nor MAKE THREATENING MOVEMENTS. Be calm.

It’s a simple rule, if you’re cool with the Troopers they’ll be cool with you. That’s it. Please respectfully keep in mind, these guys are trained to be safe rather than sorry. So patience and understanding with them is a must. Trust me, I’ve met my parent’s co-workers, they may look stoic and scary or condescending, but they can not let personal emotions interfere their work otherwise they risk safety.

They’re not “paranoid” or “harsh” they just have a job they cannot afford to fuck up otherwise the whole region is FUCKED. They’re the front line of defense, and do keep that in mind.

(Another footnote: I have seen Border Patrol offices, and without giving away how they function it’s not like CIA or Langley level of clean or fancy, so don’t think their offices are high tech and have marble floors with comfy lounges that cost a lot of money. Upon first glance you won’t expect the building to be an office. Border Patrol work with what they have available which isn’t a lot thanks to the ’00, ’04, ’08, ’12 and current administrations. That’s all I can give out.)

I’m going to come clean here and say the citizens in the Rio Grande Valley and the rest of Texas DO NOT FEEL SAFE with a border this wide open and no regulation is applied. Especially the Hispanic/Latino communities. So the pressure is on - and I mean REALLY on! Despite these guys working the Border are overwhelmed, they keep those emotions and opinions on lockdown when on the field. Like I said: If they fuck up, the region is fucked.

Bit of a history lesson: the Border issues on the Rio Grande are not new. Matter of factly, this problem has been happening for decades (The popular peak was during the 80s when cocaine was being distributed), but it was more than just cocaine and pot: Kids were going missing, people getting killed, women were used as mules and sold for sex, etc.

If you watched “Narcos” or “Sicario” you have a brief, dramatized taste of how the cartels function and what life is like for us Latinos. However, coming from someone who grew up there, the parts of watching your back, the abductions and even the gruesome murders are legit. To this day I remember seeing local news coverage (not CNN or MSNBC, our own stations down in the McAllen/Brownsville area) of beheadings, child murders and bodies being found in pieces… It’s something I hope my children won’t have to grow up hearing almost weekly like I did. Now it’s daily… and no one cares. And that hurts.

In the grand scheme of things, at least know this: South Texas has been part of the Cartel battle grounds and it’s obvious we’ve seen shit. Constantly being ignored is the payment we get for being front lines in the Drug War. So don’t blame us for being jumpy, or skeptical, nor even try convince us that the current surplus of immigrants is a good thing.

You can’t argue with our own experiences and history. The way things work down here is simple: You fight along side us, we fight along side you.

It’s called building trust, practicing faith. But we’ve been forgotten and lied to too many times by celebrities and politicians and social movements alike. And those who actually were going to help us are either shut down or unfortunately killed.

We just can’t trust anyone anymore. We are resorting to fending for ourselves basically, speaking up for ourselves… and so far it’s making progress in the mean time.

This level of “doing things on your own” bleeds into why our Troopers are trained they way they are trained - to expect the worst case scenario. To prepare themselves for the corpses, when a criminal pounces, the drugs being hid, for when they find a child with an adult they don’t know, or even a woman who was violated. They just genuinely don’t want to take chances and you just read why. Even my in-laws up in the Northern Midwest are disturbed.

So, considering the case of what happened a few days ago in Del Rio, Texas (as of writing this on September 25th 2021): If you run from a Trooper the first thing they are going to think is either two things:

You did something bad upon coming in to the country or

You don’t want your former government to find you because you did crimes in your home country or the country you were hiding in.

This is protocol, not biased opinions.

If, however, a Trooper commits any form of irresponsibility (such as abusing their power, unreasonable search and seizures etc.) it’s “kiss your badge good-bye” and DEMOTED or FIRED. The stakes of keeping your job in the Border Patrol are HIGH, so they are trained not to act out of line. Even a minor slip up in paper work from being fatigued gets you in SEVERE trouble with the Higher Ups and the County (Yes, that does happen and has happened). But you have to KNOW Border Patrol standards before you accuse them of anything.

With that being said, what’s floating around is not a constructive argument; it’s a distraction. How the public is demanding the trooper in the photo to be fired, tells us Latinos loud and clear that - once again - no one cares about our livelihood; no one is willing to brave enough to face the real hell going on. We are ignored or low-key demonized for simply defending ourselves.

(Now, you guys are seeing why I relate to my Jewish husband and the Israeli’ citizens - Arab and Jew - more; we’re pretty much in the same boat in the case of being ignored. But I digress.)

Before I come to a conclusion, here are other demographic facts to keep in mind that way it’ll help draw conclusions:

86.6% of the Border Patrol is HISPANIC/LATINO in the State of Texas alone.

A majority of children stolen from their families or molested are HISPANIC/LATINO.

A majority of the women violated immigrants on the border are mainly HISPANIC/LATINO.

Latin America collectively (Mexico down to Colombia and Venezuela) has the highest rates of femicide in the world.

So for you or anyone to get angry at Border Patrol agents in an unjust manner, not only are you getting mad at Hispanics and Latinos in UNIFORM for fighting to keep their communities safe, but you are actively contributing to the hell our families go through every day.

When you protest in demand for our cops or even troopers to be defunded, and fired for petty things, YOU are actively contributing to the problem of human trafficking, rape, kidnappings and murder that happens on the border. You are contributing to the Hispanic and Latino communities being dismantled and disintegrated by people who potentially want to kill us or hate us for money’s sake.

Take all of that into consideration before you get angry at anyone here.

In short:

I’ll only consider the accusations if you yourselves have been there and know the burdens we bear.

I’ll only consider your judgement if you genuinely are in law enforcement and know how to ride a horse and try to stop someone from running while riding the beast.

I’ll only consider your feedback if you don’t rely heavily on news like CNN, Telemundo and Tumblr for your information.

Until you grab a gun and fight the cartel yourself, and figure out a way to end this war on human trafficking, don’t come to us Latinos and express that you care and appreciate us.

Because frankly if you GENUINELY did, you’d bring to light what I just said and be slamming the desks at D.C. and DEMANDING the Border to be CLOSED by now.

Regardless of your political and personal beliefs, this is what is REALLY going on, and we’re going to keep fighting. Like the Israeli’s we don’t give a fuck if you hate us. We’re not radicals, we’re not blood-thirsty heathens, we’re not white supremacists (80+% of our population is of Latino Mexican descent) we’re just fed up with running away and being taken advantage of or taken for granted by people who value money over the lives of our neighbors.

If this were California, fine! Rail all you want, cuss us out as much as you want; hold us to those to California standards you keep yourself. But we’re not California.

We’re not D.C., nor Chicago, nor L.A., or New York, Florida, Canada, Mexico or whatever. We are SOUTH TEXAS so treat us as SOUTH TEXAS.

Honor us for who we are and hold us to the standards of what is SOUTH TEXAS, what is The United States Constitution, and the Texas Constitution; nothing more and nothing less. Don’t tear us down for what we’re not nor hold us accountable to an opinion or law we never agreed to nor knew existed.

That’s all I ask: If you’re not willing to honour our community and help us while holding us to our standards on a cultural, State or Federal level, back the fuck off. Generations we’ve dealt with the pressure from both the cartel and corrupt government from both the U.S. and Mexico, and the last thing we need is pampered kids living in the high rises or going to university on loans from school or your parents' paychecks, telling us how to deal with our issues.

You are FAR from a place to tell us how to function and resolve our war.

I’m not trying nor want to start a fight or otherwise, but I’m simply, humbly asking: when did we ever genuinely ask you “social justice advocates” to be our hero?

When did we ever ask you to fight for us or talk about what you think is wrong with us? Because last I checked we don’t want to drag anyone into our battles.

Also, we only know one messiah, but we never asked you to be him nor for him to act like you.

Did you start throwing punches because you wanted to find something to excuse your anger and outbursts, or is your good intentions married with ignorance?

Either case… it’s extremely unhealthy of you, and please just stop before another person gets hurt. We don’t want that. This is no different from the Crusades our ancestors took part in, and it will only end in more carnage than already sown.

So, just please, stop and take a step back for a moment. We don’t need anymore vehement evangelical-like people who just think with their ideals and not take a moment to have a healthy discussion with the One who created us, or let alone divorce their lust for a fight for ten seconds.

To close this off, even though I haven’t been home in a while, I know the spirit and the struggles the Rio Grande Valley goes through. I have met people on the run from the cartel first hand, and I have met people who may have ties with the cartel. I have seen some creepy shit, I have grown frustrated over the Protestant Baptist church doing nothing, and I have even been feeling the pressure my parent goes through with these apathetic riots threatening their job as a Border Patrol agent.

But aside from the pain, I am tremendously blessed that people and my family are still very optimistic despite the craziness and how bleak things are.

The family-oriented culture of the Rio Grande Valley is what is keeping it together… not trends, not clout and neither these guys in D.C. or Hollywood who are playing G-d.

It's the family-oriented connection. Our faith, that's keeping us going.

And even though I may not be the best voice of that region to speak up, I am blessed to have been there and I do plan on coming back soon.

I am planning on giving a more fun journal featuring the culture of the Rio Grande Valley in the future to finish this month off, but for the sake of this “Hispanic Heritage Month” I wanted to share our REAL issues we deal with rather than the made up ones that media likes to mainstream for money and clout.

In a way, I hope this offers clarity and a level of empathy. Again, I’m not sharing this to start fights or get sympathy - we don’t want it. We just want to know if our fights are not ignored, we just want to know we are heard.

That’s all.

#hispanic #hispanic lives matter #hispanic heritage month #latino #latin community #mexico #usa #rio grande valley #rio grande valley native #latino mexican #mexican #border patrol #border crisis #hatian immigrants #border agents #horseback #horse riding #cartel #human trafficking awareness #human trafficking #drug wars #drug war #real issues #issues #ignored issues #ignored voices #south texas #del rio texas #rebuke #latino speaking

[hawkinsschoolcounselor]

I respect your opinion, and even if our opinions do not agree, I always read your posts with rapture. My question is: if I understood correctly(correct me if I’m wrong),you think that Jancy and Jopper don’t have a deep connection, while Byler does? How does it manifest? Jancy and Jopper have always supported each other, they have a deep connection both emotionally and mentally. While Mike in Season 3 left a friend for a girl. I have nothing against Byler, just want to read your arguments

I appreciate your kind words. I can probably safely say that you are the first person to ever claim to feel rapturous because of me. The following is, naturally, my opinion, and, while I believe it to be an educated opinion, it is as such not meant to cause offense if it clashes with your or anyone else’s opinion.

 think Jancy and Jopper are relationships with a mutual attraction. The problem is they haven’t really had much opportunity to develop in a healthy fashion. I don’t think either relationship is necessarily bad, but they are both still formed on a foundation of shared traumatic experience. Yes, each couple was acquainted before the supernatural horror entered their lives, but they weren’t close. They ended up growing close as they supported each other through the various crises that have cropped up. When we see them not in the midst of trauma, they are shown not really understanding each other very well. 

Mike and Will, on the other hand, have known each other, and have been best friends, since kindergarten. Mike has always been intensely protective of Will and fearful of something happening to him. The thought of losing Will has been a great fear of his since season 1. Will and Mike trust each other in a way they don’t with anyone else. They reveal secrets to each other, sharing their vulnerabilities. Will starts to regain some semblance of control over himself after Mike relates the story of their first meeting. You can literally see his eyes change from a blank stare when Mike starts speaking to teary eyes when Mike finishes. 

Season 3 was there to show us that every relationship had problems, but we never really got to see any definitive resolution for any of them. Jonathan and Nancy had no understanding of each other’s unique goals, insecurities, or hurdles, and this led to their fight. Jonathan couldn’t accept that Nancy, as a woman, needed to work twice as hard to get accepted. Nancy was blind to the fact that Jonathan couldn’t afford to blow the internship since he didn’t have family resources to fall back on. We never really see them apologize and acknowledge what each other are going through, and Jonathan even tosses Nancy’s careless Oliver Twist jab back at her. Meanwhile, Hopper and Joyce are just a mess. Joyce is still mourning Bob. Hopper asks her out to dinner, but also promises it’s not a date. Nevertheless, when she skips out on it to talk to Mr. Clark, he becomes enraged with her and bounces between admiration and callousness towards her for the remainder of the season. Neither one felt comfortable just telling the other their feelings. They finally agree on a real date at the end (where they weren’t even sure they would survive), but I don’t recall either one really apologizing (correct me if I’m wrong).

Mike and Will’s problems, meanwhile, aren’t about the failure to build the relationship, but, rather, the apparent (in Will’s mind) decline of it. It starts small, with Will being annoyed at Mike spending a lot of time with El (being late to the movie and bailing on Dustin’s radio booster). Still, we see that Mike is still intensely concerned for Will at the movie, and we see how much it hurts Will when it seems like Mike doesn’t care anymore. Their problems come across as more genuine because of their already established bond. Their fight is showcased as very dramatic, and perhaps even tragic, compared to the other two. We also see how each one is uniquely upset, with Mike chasing Will to apologize (Mike never apologizes that easily) and Will tearing down Castle Byers in anguish.

Mike and Will is also a unique situation in that they’re both boys. This makes it hard for both of them to even understand their feelings, let alone accept them. Mike is off trying to force a clearly empty relationship (all kissing, no shared interests or conversation) with El. He may well know that he has “inappropriate” feelings for Will, or he may just be unconsciously displacing his feelings onto El. Either way, comparing his “break ups” with both El and Will, we can see which one hurt him more. Meanwhile, Will is stuck in the cliche position of “gay kid in love with his best friend but has to pretend he isn’t.” This is the case whether he knows it or not. The fact that they’re both hiding feelings (from either themselves or each other) is a stark contrast to the trust they normally share. Their scene when Will packs up his D&D set for donation is a bit closer towards being honest, but still guarded. They use D&D as a stand-in for their feelings, with Mike afraid that Will is moving on, but Will reassuring him that it’s “not possible.” Neither one is ready just yet, but they’re letting each other know their feelings are still there.

Time makes relationships. Neither Jopper nor Jancy have really had the opportunity needed to grow compared to Byler. Jopper never really got going, and Jancy seems to have some problems that fans either don’t notice or prefer to ignore. If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times, shared traumatic experiences do not magically make for good relationships. It’s not impossible for them to become closer, but it would have to happen as it would with any relationship. Supporting each other is only one part of a relationship, and Jancy and Jopper have some elements of that, though Season 3 shows us that it’s still sorely lacking. Mike and Will already had all of this before the show even started. 

It makes me sad and angry sometimes when fans don’t even notice how strong Mike and Will’s feelings are for each other, but instead see new, struggling (and somewhat problematic) relationships as cute and romantic. Jancy and Jopper are both somewhat promising, but flawed, relationships that just haven’t had time, or the correct environment, to grow close. Byler has problems, but those problems are rooted in the fact that they were already very close, but in a situation where their closeness is changing meaning. I suppose it’s a bit of a cheat to have Byler ahead naturally simply because they were already written as close, but it still sets them apart from other couples.

#stranger things #byler