I speak without apology: I believe women represent the higher expression of our species. Not by myth, not by fantasy, but by evidence—biological, psychological, social, and historical. Every data point we have about survival, cooperation, intelligence, empathy, and stability points to one direction: women carry the qualities that sustain and advance human life, while men overwhelmingly carry the traits that destabilize it.
Women are the true architects of human continuity.
Their bodies are biologically engineered for endurance, for survival under pressure, for maintaining life under the harshest conditions. Across every age group and every population, women consistently outlive men. Their immune systems adapt more effectively, their neurological wiring shows greater resilience, and their hormonal balance—despite its complexity—creates a more stable platform for decision-making and emotional intelligence.
It is not an accident that women excel in the social and cognitive abilities that hold societies together: empathy, communication, anticipation, emotional regulation. These capacities are not ornaments—they are the foundations of civilization. When groups include more women, their collective intelligence rises. When organizations are led by women, cooperation strengthens and conflict decreases. And when governments have greater female representation, measures of development—education, health, stability, transparency—improve.
Statistics on violence and crime draw the sharpest contrast. Over 85% of violent crimes, assaults, and homicides are committed by men. The impulse toward dominance through force—once useful in prehistoric times—has become a liability in modern civilization. Women, meanwhile, overwhelmingly choose strategies of preservation, negotiation, and stability. Their instinct is not to conquer, but to sustain. Not to escalate, but to organize. Not to dominate through fear, but to lead through depth.
Even in evolutionary terms, women have always been the decisive factor. They are the filter of natural selection, the guardians of genetic quality, the selectors of the future. A single woman can choose which traits move forward; generations of men compete for her acceptance, not the other way around. In biological reality, men’s reproductive strategy is quantity, risk, and dispersal; women’s strategy is quality, patience, and survival. Only one of these strategies is compatible with modern civilization—and it is not the one fueled by aggression and impulse.
I do not argue that women “deserve” superiority. I argue that they embody it.
Superior resilience.
Superior emotional intelligence.
Superior cooperative reasoning.
Superior long-term thinking.
Superior alignment with human progress.
A world shaped by women would not be softer—it would be wiser.
Not less ambitious—just less self-destructive.
Not weaker—only less wasteful.
I believe in women’s superiority because the evidence demands it, not because of ideology. And I believe the future will eventually reflect what biology, psychology, and history have already made clear:
Aesop Sharp watched from behind his desk as the classroom slowly filled up, his thoughts still drifting back to the summer break, which had passed too quickly this year.
First-years, their first Potions class… Although he had promised Morana to be kind, he had still decided, as he put it, to "assert his position among the students in an assertive manner and set his expectations for them from the very beginning."
"You’re going to traumatize them," Morana had summarized this morning, not taking her eyes off her toast as they ate their first breakfast of the school year in the Great Hall.
Well, maybe a little.
He rose from his seat and, leaning on his cane, slowly approached the students. They all had cheerful expressions, chatting among themselves, even though the break had ended several minutes ago. There was an unusual joy in the air… Something was off… Did they not know they had class with him? He let out a nearly inaudible, disgusted "ugh" and narrowed his eyes, tapping his cane meaningfully.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the break ended quite some time ago," he growled sternly, his words bringing about a soothing silence. The children flinched in surprise, looking at him in confusion. "This is your first lesson with me, so I will be lenient, and no house will receive negative points today, though you all should… However… Disregarding the rules of this classroom, such as silence, diligence, hard work, and keeping your workstation tidy, will result in a drastic decrease in the number of stones in the hourglass of each of the Four Houses. Have I made myself clear?"
The children gaped, some lowering their gazes to avoid Sharp’s sharp stare.
"Good," he concluded, looking around. "You have the right—no, the obligation—to ask questions. Experimenting with potions on your own is strictly forbidden unless under my supervision. Until you are allowed trips to Hogsmeade, you will have to apply yourselves in Herbology to produce ingredients of the required quality, as only those are acceptable here. We will begin the first semester with simple potions. You must learn the basics, as my experience as a teacher has shown me that even stirring a cauldron is a challenge for many…”
He walked toward the blackboard and wrote down the name of today's potion. As soon as he turned around, he heard one of the students whisper to their classmates, "Hey, but… But I heard that Professor Sharp is one of the nicest teachers..."
The girl's indignation amused him greatly… internally. On the outside, he simply paused his writing and turned toward her.
"I may be crippled, but my hearing is still quite good..."
"I'm sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you..." the girl said remorsefully, then added with fear and childlike honesty, "It’s just… you’re a little scary..."
Aesop pressed his lips together to keep from laughing. He appreciated her honesty.
"I may seem that way in your eyes because Potions is a rather dangerous subject, and I am responsible for all of you. That is why I will be very strict and demanding more than once or twice," he explained, prompting a silent "aha" from the students as they nodded in understanding.
Leaning against his desk and shifting his weight onto his other leg, he continued, "Someone has probably misled you—there is another Professor Sharp at Hogwarts. She teaches three floors above and happens to be my wife… But… Although she surely smiles and jokes more often than I do, she can be just as strict..."
Sharp's lecture was interrupted by strange squeaking noises. The students glanced at one another in confusion, curiously searching for the source. Aesop smirked slightly and glanced behind him at the large cauldron placed next to his chair.
A tiny head, adorned with a knitted pumpkin-shaped beret, peeked out from it. Admiring Mirabel’s knitting skills—she had made it herself—Sharp stepped forward and picked up the still-sleepy and grumpy infant who had been wriggling among the soft pillows filling the cauldron. He placed a gentle kiss on the few dark brown strands of hair sticking out from under the hat and adjusted her in his arms so she could see what was happening before her. Otherwise, she would get very fussy, too curious about the colorful potion flashes and intriguing sounds around her.
"Sometimes, my daughter Selena will be joining our classes… She is protected by the strongest spells known to wizards, unlike you, so I urge caution and strict adherence to my instructions."
The students fixed their gazes on the little girl.
For a moment, she might have seemed sweet and adorable—dressed in an orange, pumpkin-shaped onesie… Her large, intelligent dark eyes peered out from beneath dark eyebrows, and her chubby, rosy face twisted into a fierce scowl… Identical to the one Professor Sharp was making at that very moment… No one dared to speak to her or attempt to play with her… This child quickly earned their respect, on par with her father.
"Please open your textbooks to page ten and study the recipe… You will begin by gathering the necessary ingredients from the classroom shelves… It will not be easy. You will have to rely on your Herbology book, as not everything in the textbook is accompanied by illustrations… When you are ready, raise your hand, and I will come over to check if everything is properly prepared."
The students got to work, and Aesop moved among them with Selena, observing whether they were managing well...
“Remember, in addition to the textbook, you can ask me for help if something is unclear!” he reminded them, adding a few of his standard pieces of advice, like about maintaining order. Occasionally, he asked questions to check if anyone had read anything and to gauge their general level.
“Does anyone know what the purpose of dittany is? How many drops of Veritaserum are needed to make someone tell the truth?” and similar questions.
When everyone completed their task, he nodded with approval, assigned homework, and finished the lesson.
“I would like to ask Miss Jord and Miss Saga Fromm to stay for a moment...” he muttered, then shot one of his stern looks across the room at the blonde twins in Ravenclaw robes. They stopped laughing, suddenly becoming serious.
After throwing a “Goodbye, Professor Sharp,” the students rushed through the narrow door to their break.
The girls stood with their heads lowered, blushing with embarrassment.
“My dears, you won’t gain any friends behaving like this...” Aesop muttered in a stern tone. “I know you thought it was funny to mislead them, but in the long run, it will turn against you... You’ve lived with me under one roof for quite a while, so you know I don’t tolerate such antics, and I must take 5 points from each of you...”
“I’m sorry, Aesop...” Jord said regretfully.
“We didn’t mean anything bad... It’s just... you know... we couldn’t resist seeing their faces... We won’t do it again, I’m sorry,” added Saga.
They looked at him with big, sad eyes... Ugh, at least now he knew why they felt so familiar, tugging at his heartstrings – they were like Morana, and just like her, they had quickly wrapped him around their fingers... And Sidó... And Selena... Ehhh... Five women and just him, it was clear he was already on the losing side.
“Are you very angry?” Jord asked quietly.
Aesop sighed deeply and adjusted Selena’s little cap, which had fallen over her eyes as she squirmed with joy at the sight of the twins.
“You know I’m not, I just worry about you...” he said softly in a velvet tone full of care and kindness. “This is your new home, I want you to feel comfortable here...” The girls knew what he was referring to and grew sad... The mourning for the death of both their parents was still fresh in them... Maybe over a year had passed, almost two... But such a tragedy... Moving to another country, to practically strangers... In their eyes, he could still see the remnants of that despair they had felt in the first days in Aranshire... Aesop sighed, recalling the conversation with them and Morana, when she explained that she was their sister, the surprise on their faces that they had different mothers. For now, they had spared them the whole truth about the Ministry’s manipulations; Morana hadn’t hidden the origins of her story, though she knew it would be painful for the girls... Now, seeing their sad faces, Aesop gently stroked their cheeks with the back of his free hand and smiled warmly, then added in a cheerier tone, “And don’t forget, when you’re around others, you need to address me as ‘Professor Sharp,’ try to remember that...”
“Yes, Aesop!” both saluted in unison, then burst out laughing... Yes, it was a terrible laugh, full of snorts and grunts, so Aesop couldn’t help himself and snorted too. He shook his head in mock disapproval, secretly fascinated by how much the girls resembled Morana.
With his free hand, he pulled out a wrapped-up muffins from his pocket and handed them to them.
They beamed, immediately grabbing it and devouring it on the spot. They had gotten up a bit too late today and hadn’t had time for breakfast... Somehow, knowing their sister all too well, he preferred to prepare food for them for the rest of the day, glad that his experience living with a woman from the Fromm family had prepared him for this.
“Well, go on, off to your break...” he gestured toward the door with his chin. “Remember, this afternoon Aunt Juno is coming with John, and uncles Dimm will be here too...”
He didn’t finish before the girls jumped up in excitement (even Selena moved joyfully, mumbling something to herself with contentment at the sound of the familiar names), grabbed their things, and started skipping toward the exit, shouting, “Bye Aesop, bye Selena!”...
Aesop suddenly furrowed his brows, noticing something... spider legs sticking out from under Saga’s robe.
“Hey, hey, hey! Wait a second... Saga... it was supposed to stay at home...” he muttered warningly, and the girl froze in place, then pulled Tertius out from under her cloak, adorned with pink ribbons and a tutu.
“But... but he was soooooo sad,” she explained in a pleading tone. “I couldn’t leave him alone.”
“Ugh, Tertius, what have they done to your dignity...” muttered Sharp in disbelief, horrified as he noticed more clips, ribbons, and glitter in the spider’s fur.
“That’s called ‘fashion,’ Sharp...” the spider added, shrugging its legs.
Aesop ignored him and signaled to the girls to follow him. He took them to the vestibule outside his classroom and pointed his wand at one of the hanging framed signs with an illustration of a spider sitting on a hand with a line crossing it.
“Not all beasts make good pets...” Sharp read aloud.
“Bark, bark,” Tertius grumbled, narrowing his hundred eyes.
Sharp rolled his eyes and limped toward his classroom... The year had just begun, curious what other surprises awaited him?
He sat behind his desk and quickly changed his daughter’s diaper, then settled the tired Selena into her little cauldron... He smiled, seeing her eyelids slowly droop... He kissed her freckled cheeks, which were probably one of the few things she inherited from Morana... Everyone said she looked like him... He was beaming with pride... Though, on the other hand, he wasn’t entirely sure if this wouldn’t cause problems for the young girl soon... Her first teeth had already come in crooked like his, and that fierce look, the pouty, slightly disgusted expression... He didn’t know she wore it all the time... And, besides, Selena didn’t like noise, sometimes she didn’t even like being touched, and she cried when dressed in certain fabrics... He didn’t have much experience with children, but he feared it wasn’t a good sign... The girl had genes from the north, east, west, and south... The latter belonged to her grandmother, who came from Bulgaria, Greece, or maybe even Turkey... What a mix of cultures, not to mention Ancient Magic and Veela blood...
Aesop sighed, thinking about her future, about how powerful a witch she could become, famous and wealthy, but on the other hand... Selena’s quiet nature, her love for peace, and her focus on painting with her little hands dipped in paint might lead her life to be modest, far from foolhardy adventures... Who knows?
“It’s a good thing Aunt Mirabel made you that outfit...” he whispered in a velvet tone, stroking her tiny head. “You won’t be cold with me when your mom is busy... I’m so proud of her, she works so hard... One day, she’ll teach you everything, and I will too... And until then, you’ll help me a bit, we’ll give everyone trouble, it will be fun...”
He settled comfortably in the chair and, smiling blissfully, glanced at the pictures on his desk...
He couldn’t believe how much his life had changed... Two years ago, only Auror’s badge stood there, and now? Merlin. There were just no pictures of the twins, so others wouldn’t tease them... Morana was looking at him from a photo, beside it, a picture of the very angry little Sidó, who looked beautiful in a polka-dot dress but of course hated it, and then there was Selena in her pumpkin pajamas, and a wedding photo of Aesop and Morana taken by John in front of their house in Aranshire...
Soon after they took it, Selena was born here in Hogwarts... During the school year, to manage the baby and duties, they mostly lived in the Castle... The headmaster wasn’t thrilled, but Aesop used his liquor, which he once gave to Fig when he came to Dimm’s to take Morana to school. Black signed the necessary papers.
Aesop smiled broadly.
After the lessons, Aesop packed a few pumpkins into a wooden box on wheels made by Sirona from a bottle basket to make it easier for him to walk with his daughter, then put Selena in the box (smiling at the sight of the little “pumpkin” among the big ones) and pulled it behind him as he hobbled out of the castle with his cane.
After a few moments, they were on a meadow near the road to Hogsmeade, where he had arranged to meet his wife... He didn’t have to wait long...
The air was pierced by a screech, and Aesop looked up and took his daughter in his arms. A raven cut through the clouds, followed by a thestral, on the back of which sat Sidó, and her thin voice turned into laughter as she dove sharply downward, her stomach rising to her throat.
“Ugh, that’s why I tell you, Selena...” he said to his daughter, who opened her mouth wide. “...It’s good we’re the voice of reason and calm in this family... We need to keep an eye on them.”
Morana gracefully landed on the ground and changed shape. Aesop’s eyes lit up. At least the mystery of Morana’s charm, that “spell” he could never wrap his mind around, was solved... Hmmm... Now that he knew she was half Veela, it all made sense.
Her long tangled hair rustled in the wind, wrapping around her slender body; she looked beautiful in a new black dress with a deep neckline, between her shapely breasts swayed red beads... and that pearl smile surrounded by lips he loved to kiss and taste... The woman pushed her tangled hair back and helped Sidó down, then patted the thestral on the side and let it fly away.
Sidó, limping on her wooden leg, ran toward Aesop and Selena, arms wide open.
“AESOP, THAT WAS AMAZING!” she shouted, and Aesop, covering Selena’s ears, immediately asked her to lower her voice. Sidó apologized to her younger sister when she saw the tears in her eyes and, barely able to contain her excitement, bounced around Aesop, telling him how she and Morana, along with Aunt Poppy, were searching for missing magical creatures. Morana kissed Selena, placed her back in the box on wheels, adjusted Aesop’s scarf, and took his arm. They didn’t talk to each other, listening to Sidó’s chaotic tale, letting her relive the memories once again... Occasionally, Aesop threw a questioning glance at his wife, not entirely sure what had actually happened and what was embellished by the girl. Slowly, adjusting the pace to Aesop’s, they all walked toward the house, and on the way, the blonde, dressed in pointed hats twins with Tertius joined them, whose new look Morana commented on by mimicking Gladrag:
“Tertius, wow, you have a sharp eye for fashion...”
Then she winked at Aesop, and he sighed loudly rolling his eyes in response.
Morana was sitting in an armchair right next to the peacefully sleeping Isydora, leaning so that she could carefully observe what was happening outside through the window...
The garden could barely fit the whole family... Everyone was busy with themselves, surrounded by the pleasant hum of conversations and the glow of the setting, already somewhat autumnal sun... Mrs. Dimm was sitting on a bench with Sidó, listening as she, while also learning new words, read a detective novel with a flushed face... Next to them, also listening to the story, Juno Sharp was showing Jord how to embroider magical images. A little further away, Arn was painting a portrait of Saga, who was posing with Tertius, neatly groomed and dressed in a frilly dress. Torq was observing them, occasionally making sharp comments about his brother's work while rocking in his strong goblin arms Selena, who was trying to catch the magical paintbrush. Gentlemen John and Marcus were supposed to carve pumpkins to strengthen Wizard-Muggle bonds, but it turned out that beer from the Brewery was better suited for the task... Well, Sirona, now his new co-owner, was sunbathing on a deck chair next to Poppy, who had fallen asleep from exhaustion after the mission with Morana today, holding the Egg of the Occamy in her arms...
"Can I join you?" Aesop's voice broke her out of her thoughts. She nodded and made space for him on the armchair, then settled comfortably on his lap, snuggling into his chest. He must have had to work hard to both hug her and eat the piece of cake he had brought on his plate... They sat quietly, listening to the ticking of the clock, enjoying the scent of the flower, a keepsake from Galatea... Her death was classified by the Ministry as an accident, just like Vincent Fromm's death, although only his obituary appeared in the Prophet... Aesop and Morana promissed themselves to never reveal the truth, it was too dangerous.
"Hmph..." Aesop grumbled in displeasure, which immediately prompted a questioning look from Morana... After swallowing a piece of sponge cake, he continued his thought. "All my life I wanted to have a big family, and when I finally have one, it turns out they have so much fun with each other and don't need me at all... Hmph, irony..."
He grumbled, which made Morana chuckle... She thought exactly the same.
"Well..." she started in a velvet, alluring tone, and her slender finger began to gently trace circular motions on Aesop's Adam's apple, which moved as he chewed another bite of cake. "Maybe I desperately need you... We haven’t had much time for ourselves lately..."
He swallowed loudly, only after a moment realizing what she meant. He felt a pleasant sensation tighten his stomach, and a warm, comforting flame ignited in his chest...
"Well..." he cleared his throat and lifted the protesting, laughing Morana into his arms, raising her high and tossing her over his shoulder like a hunted deer. With a quick flick of his wand, he closed the door, ensuring that no one would accidentally enter the house, and despite the burning pain in his knee, he slowly began to head toward the stairs, toward the bedroom... "They probably won't notice we're gone... We’re not home, right, Mrs. Sharp?"
Morana giggled, and her eyes sparkled.
Yes, she was at home.
the end.
Thank you for reading, hope to see you soon in my next Aesop Sharp-centered series: "Whispers of the Sea"
I'm having an autism moment but the quality control decline at Jellycat makes me feel very autistically frustrated.
Some points:
Prices are getting higher while quality is decreasing. We've seen it, Jellycat has acknowledged and commented on it, and we know that JC isn't the only one who's guilty of this. But what frustrates me a lot is knowing that, despite JC's comments on their quality control and their promises to "do better," they haven't really been sticking with their word. I feel like there's been a consistent uptick in posts on the Jellycatplush subreddit of people complaining about quality even after they made their statement in January of this year and for good reason- their final products just aren't meeting the price tags anymore.
I suppose some of this has to do with the increase in popularity they said they had experienced in 2022 that they struggled to keep up with, and I imagine they're trying to keep up with the demand by loosening quality control to get more product out, but I think they're really shooting themselves in their feet for this because JC was once revered for their quality. I know I myself have said in the past that I thought the price of their products were totally worth it because I truly believed that the quality lived up to those price tags. Nowadays I can't say the same thing about them anymore.
What sucks further though is the fact that all of this product is just going to waste now. Many people have said that they were so disappointed with what they got (especially when you consider how much money they have to fork out per plush these days) that they ended up returning it to JC, which ultimately ends up being tossed in some landfill somewhere. Polyester and plastic fabric isn't exactly the definition of environmentally friendly!
Ultimately, these factories are going out of their ways to produce subpar products under what I imagine are more strict codes to get more product out, which end up being returned by the buyers because they're so disappointed in the quality control and thrown into the garbage. Or if they're not returned by the owner, then they'll still probably end up there anyway because they're defective and not as likely to last as long.
What I think should be done instead is offering discounts on defective products- within reason of course, nobody's going to want to pay any amount of money for a plush that's practically falling apart, but minor defects I could see selling fine enough because A) customers won't have to pay the full amount for a subpar product, and B) they also will know exactly what they're getting and not being set up for disappointment. I'd love to buy defective jellies, so long as I'm not paying the price of a high quality one!
But understandably, I think the above point could have a bad affliction on their reputation as a company, that they'd have defective plush to sell in the first place, which is why I don't think they do it. They've already built their image on being a higher-end plush brand, so I feel like advertising products that exist to be defective would be bad publicity.
Side note: I fear for the safety of the literal babies chewing on their toys if their quality continues to dwindle. There are specific safety protocols that toy manufacturers need to adhere to in order to produce toys for babies- the 3+ age rating exists for a reason! I don't think it's quite gotten to that point yet, but it's in the realm of possibility if JC continues down the road they're on.
I could end this by saying something about the effects of late stage capitalism on product quality control and, eventually, environmentalism and safety, but I don't imagine anyone is following a blog about children's toys to hear political commentary which is understandable so I'll save it for now.
Author note: This is based on games I have played, and thought they would personally enjoy. I would suggest you to play them as well if you haven’t. Just going to pretend they have access to PCs and consoles lmao. I can imagine their minecraft chat logs being hostile as fuck.
If this is badly spaced, sorry! Something is up with my tumblr where no matter how many time I change it to nicely spaced it cramps together again.
Also my dumbass forgot the uberbots and students, they are next.
Warning: Language, minor spoilers for Viviette, advice for stardew ig? (?).
Leshy
He prefers games with an interesting story or based around nature.
He loves Minecraft.
While playing, he is rather peaceful. Only really playing the game for exploration and mobs.
He is the type of player to tame as many animals as possible, having a pack following him as he travels the world.
Currently has 23 wolves, 17 cats, and 3 horses. The number decreases more than increase.
If anything ever hits him, it’s instant death by wolf.
When he stumbles onto a village, he doesn’t loot or commit mass murder.
He would also play Stardew Valley.
His farm is well decorated with plants and trees
Unlike P03, he doesn’t make bank each harvest. This is partly due to him choosing to focus on live stock and their quality of life than the money.
Because of this, he opted to marry Shane because of the blue chickens.
“Woah.”
“I know, glorious isn’t it? My farm is a safe haven to the beasts of this game-“
“ Your farm is shit.”
“What?”
“Your farm is shit.”
“I have put a lot of effort into this, why-“
“Just because you have a variety of animals and decorated the place, doesn't mean it’s good. I bet you’re broke as fuck. Your husband is a bum and-”
*Offended gasp.*
“And...how did you get a blue chicken?”
Grimora
Grimora enjoys horror games and multiplayer games.
She also has minecraft, but doesn’t often play it.
This is because she prefers to play with friends, and the other Scrybes just do their own thing. So it isn’t as fun as it could be.
She loves realistic horror games, but she adores the ones with a cuter art style more as they tend to have better writing and gameplay.
This includes games such as Viviette and Inmost. The two games were adored by her due to the cuter art-style, and the gameplay.
In Viviette, despite having extremely difficult puzzles had been extremely fun. She liked how you had to run and hide, even if you were doing a puzzle.
Despite the game being short, she had spent about 7 hours trying to complete it.
Out of curiosity, she told P03 to play the game.
They completed it within four hours and had little difficulty.
Inmost’s art style and music did wonders to create a sombre mood.
The game had a lovely story as well…
She had recommended the game to Magnificus, as well as a few other things she tried.
“I feel as though you would enjoy this game.”
“Ok.”
“You should try it.”
“I will.”
“When you try the game, tell me how you feel about it.”
“Ok.”
“ You would appreciate the art-“
Magnificus
He doesn’t play video games of his own free will. He is either forcefully made to play, or bullied into trying.
Often, he wonders what he has done in life to deserve his treatment.
But if he had to pick his favourite type of game, he would pick something that focuses around visuals or has a interesting story. Genre doesn’t matter.
Once he was forced to play layers of fear by Grimora and ended up genuinely enjoying it. The visuals were great, especially when things started to warp.
Then he was forced to play minecraft by the other Scrybes.
He found the enchantments interesting, as well as the ender. However due to being shit at video games and the dumbass twins (Leshy and P03) being unhelpful and Grimora being offline, he hasn’t managed to get to the ender dragon.
“Everyone. I require assistance and resources. I need to find eyes of ender to continue and I do not have to necessary resources to retrieve them myself.”
“Sorry I do not know what that is.”
“Lol, noob. I’m not helping by choice.”
“…”
Then several days later.
“Hello, sorry. I do not have anything to spare.”
P03
As mentioned in a previous headcanon post, they prefer to play games that make them feel productive, or that are challenging.
Other games not mentioned included Hollow knight and Minecraft.
With Hollow knight, they got pissed off at gameplay and were shit at first. But out of spite, they tried to get every achievement available and got them all within 4 days.
They hated god seeker mode with a vengeance.
But god was it worth beating it. He got bragging rights for a fairly unknown game.
In minecraft, they commit arson or they hack into Leshy’s world to kill his pets.
They find it funny because Leshy gets attached to his pets, even though they aren’t real.
The fool holds Stampy style dog burials.
Despite often being the murderer Leshy always invites them to the funerals.
They still attend to pay their respects… and to commit arson again.
“We have assembled here today, to pay our respects to one of the best boys of minecraft. My wolf Jeremiah. He-“
requested by anon(s); their respective teams finding out about their relationships
pairings; tsukishima kei x reader, tanaka ryūnosuke x fem!reader, yamamoto taketora x fem karasuno manager!reader
genre; fluff
warnings; none! (maybe a few curse words)
note; i’m so sorry tsukki’s so much longer than the other two oh my
tsukishima kei
━━ in your defense, neither of you had heard the blaring alarm, and supposedly, no one else in his home had either. after having unintentionally lost track of time with your boyfriend the night prior that it had gotten a little too late for you to head home safely, you’d agreed to kei’s suggestion to spend the night, and fell asleep in his arms. that wasn’t entirely out of the ordinary. you couldn’t count on ten fingers the nights you’d spent at his home, waking up with your limbs tangled with his, despite the fact that he insisted cuddling was his least favorite thing to do. missing the alarm is what’s unusual. kei’s not the heaviest of sleepers, evident in the way he nearly tramples you every night, suffocating you to him and restricting your movements. the fact that he hadn’t heard it, and had left to ring annoyingly loud until it gave up was confusing enough.
this wouldn’t pose as much of an issue if it weren’t for your situation. on the contrary, really; you loved nothing more than waking up at the hour you desire, kei still sound asleep by you. he always looked a lot calmer, a lot less tense, his mind a little quieter. his arms were caging you in, giving you enough freedom to tilt your head back and admire him, as his chest rose and fell gently, as his eyes fluttered lightly with the remnants of a dream. in the quiet of his room, you wondered what those golden irises could see.
but of course, a sleepy, fuzzy, lovesick brain wasn’t a luxury for long, and the blurriness began to slip away, just as reality began catching up. your mind began to process the time that the clock that hung opposite you read (too late in the afternoon), then the day of the week (sunday, practice day), then, the cherry on top of the cake — the sound of heavy footsteps, too many footsteps, loud, familiar voices. and finally, the fact that you weren’t supposed to be where you were: in kei’s bed.
you’d encountered his — friends on countless occasions, just never as his significant other. at first, it had left you slightly insecure, wondering if kei was somehow ashamed of you, embarrassed to be tied to you. eventually, however, you’d figured that it hadn’t been shame or embarrassment. he’s just a private person, and if anything, it’s possessiveness: the desire to keep you and all that you are to himself. not that he’d ever have to share once you were exclusive to his teammates, but it’s more that he also wants the idea and thought of you secret. he wants to luxury of calling you his to be private, just something he can enjoy. and maybe you liked the thrill of it too, seeing as you’d agreed, for the time being. you liked the rushed kisses in fear of getting caught, and the secret glances he’d offer you during school hours, and the way he held your hand beneath the table for no one but you to know about. you liked it, and you respected his wishes.
when the footsteps drew closer, you realized just how screwed you are, and it would mean a lot worse for you to be caught slipping away through the window than to be caught in bed, so you lean up, hugging yourself tighter to him, and bring your lips by kei’s ear. shaking him slightly, you whisper, “baby, wake up. the boys are here.”
kei rustles around, blinking slightly, before huffing and wrapping his arms tighter around you, burying his face in the crook of your neck, mumbling incoherently.
you stifle a laugh at his clingy reaction, wishing that this was somehow being recorded. with laughter behind your tone, you repeat your words, shaking him harsher. “kei,” you drawl, whining. “kei, we’re gonna get caught.”
he only mumbles again, breath hot on your neck.
“tsukki! tsukki!”
shit, nishinoya and tanaka were also here?
“kei, baby, you are going to be mortified when you wake up,” you warn, but nonetheless, you continue to hold him to you, bringing a hand up to his hair and sighing. “don’t kick me for trying to warn you.”
the door bursts open, followed by tanaka’s sing-song voice calling out for your boyfriend. he leads the way into the bedroom, head high and eyes closed, as him and three of kei’s teammates march in. he’s oblivious to your head peeking out beneath the crook of kei’s neck, until his eyes open, his hands faltering on his hips as he finally registers your face.
you grin up at him, fingers waving at him in greeting. “hey,” you call out cheekily.
tanaka freezes, head cocking to the side as he’s pushed away while the other three file in. as soon as nishinoya notices you, he clamps his hand over his mouth, his mouth wide with laughter and eyes lost in shock. yamaguchi’s face is tinted red, glance frozen at you, while sugawara, ever the sadist, laughs freely and loudly.
“so this is why he’s late?” tanaka yells in a hushed tone.
sugawara, still laughing, grabs his phone from his jacket’s pocket, switching to the camera app quickly and lifting it up to snap a photo. you throw up a peace sign.
“tsukki, you ass!” nishinoya shouts, leaping quickly onto the bed, forcing you and kei to shift suddenly. “get up, get up, get the fuck up!”
the boy in your arms groans, his eyes still shut tightly as he finally loosens his hold on you, rolling onto his back. a hand is lifted up to his face as he rubs away the sleep in his eyes, while nishinoya positions himself to stand directly above him, feet on either side of his hips as he leans down, peering straight at his face.
kei’s eyes finally open, hand falling to his side in search of yours as it always does, before he looks up, and spots nishinoya sporting the cheekiest of expressions. he sighs in preparation of the teasing to come, and exhales sharply.
“shit.”
sugawara is yet to stop laughing.
tanaka ryūnosuke
━━ “ryu, you’re late to practice.”
the boy in question shushes you quietly, hugging you tighter to him as he whispers out, “five more minutes,” lips brushing against the nape of your neck, down to your shoulder blades. your back is pressed to his bare chest, his arm wrapped tightly around your waist. you rest a hand on that arm, stroking it gently as you try to wake him up.
with how the boys had been progressing with volleyball, practice hours had increased, and therefore quality time with ryu had decreased. there was a little voice in the back of your head egging him on, urging you to cuddle back into him and let him nuzzle into you more, the part of you that missed him, missed all of him. there was a more logical side of you that knew better, that acknowledged all the work and effort he’d put to get where he is today, and that didn’t want him to miss out any opportunity to grow, or to put all that effort to waste. so you sigh, gripping at his forearm tightly as you try to get away.
“come on, babe,” you whine, attempting desperately to try and get away from him.
“woah, ryu, you got a girl with you or something?”
you freeze. ryu freezes. the world stops.
that had definitely been nishinoya’s voice, there was no doubt about that. and it isn’t like the both of you had kept your relationship a secret from your mutual friends deliberately. it had just never came up in conversation. maybe they were just blind, honestly. there had been no hiding it: you held hands, you hugged him tight after every win, he walked you home after evening practice after school, you hung out during school all the time. so really, it isn’t your fault that no one put two and two together.
you’d just hoped it wouldn’t be in such a comprising situation. you don’t even have pants on.
“holy shit, you do— what the fuck!” your boyfriend’s teammates scream is piercing, and eardrum shattering. you wince at the sound, fingers tightening around ryu’s arm. once nishinoya processes what he’s seen, and who he’s seen, he storms outside of the bedroom, leaving the door ajar behind him, allowing you to listen in on his yells.
somehow, ryu’s still sleeping.
“you guys are not going to believe what i just saw,” you hear nishinoya calling out and — holy shit, was the whole team here? was he really that late to practice?
you manage to break free of ryu’s unrelenting grasp just as the footsteps group by your boyfriend’s bedroom door. they all walk in as you try and fix your bed hair, smiling weakly as one by one, they fill up the room. raising a hand, you sheepishly smile and wave, calling out a low, “morning everyone.”
looking to your left, you find ryu still sleeping. with the way hinata’s bouncing over to where the two of you lay, you doubt it’ll be for long. secret was meant to be outed at some point, wasn’t it?
yamamoto taketora
━━ as you and your team finally arrive at your destination, nekoma high, the bus comes to a stop, parking off to the side. immediately, the boys are jumping from their seats, eager to stretch their limbs and greet their long distance friends. you, kiyoko and yachi take your time in comparison to them, gathering all your things, stretching yourselves out. yachi and kiyoko are first to leave between the three of you, working on keeping your teammates in check and making sure none drift off, while you stay behind, checking in on the bus to make sure nobody left anything behind (which you’re glad you always do, because both hinata and kageyama had forgotten their phones). stepping off the bus, you raise your arms up in a stretch, bones cracking satisfyingly. you squint up at the sun as you sigh, hand coming up to shield yourself from it.
“shōyō, kags!” you call out, walking up to the group of boys huddled around each other, both nekoma and karasuno. “forget anything?” you place their phones in either hand, giving them playfully disapproving looks as they shamefully take it from you, red dusting their cheeks and a low sorry spilling from their lips. your expression twists into a cheerful one, and you wave them off.
as the herd of people begins to move, you plan on following, until you hear your name yelled out loudly, in a very distinct, familiar voice. excitement overtaking you, you turn the other way, dropping your bag to the ground and jumping into the awaiting of your arms of your long distance boyfriend.
“tora baby, i missed you!” you squeal, arms wrapping tight around his neck and legs around his waist, ankles hooked as he rocks you from side to side. he hugs you with just as much earnest, burying his face in your neck gratefully.
he hums by your ear, pressing a wet kiss to your neck as he says, “missed you more. more than you could ever imagine.”
you chuckle lightly to yourself, lifting your head up and leaning back to glance at him. “sap,” you tease, tilting your head closer.
“hey, you were the one that jumped into my arms,” he argues.
you quirk an eyebrow. “you were the one that yelled out my name and ran at me,” you retort. “like we’re in some sort of rom-com.” you’re rolling your eyes, but your heart’s beating unsteadily at the way he presses a chaste kiss to your lips. unwilling to continue your banter, having missed him, and missed kissing him too much to do so, you lift a hand to the nape of his neck and push his lips closer to yours, finally kissing him properly.
you’re not able to enjoy it for long, feeling a hand grab at the collar of your jacket on the back of your neck. it pulls at you until you break from the kiss, until you’re forced out of your boyfriend’s arms, and stumbling onto the ground back on your feet.
“have some decorum, manager,” daichi teases, and you roll your eyes, reaching out again for taketora.
he takes you into his arms easily, letting you rest your head on his chest, and wrapping your arms around his waist. “he’s just jealous that we’re in love,” he jokes, and you huff out a laugh, allowing him to steer you away from the small crowd, and towards the gym, leaving your boys and his teammates behind.
“am i the only one that’s like, shocked?” ennoshita breaks the silence.
“really? i’m more heartbroken,” nishinoya joins in, earning a smack from daichi.
tanaka breathes in steadily. “kiyoko-san, please don’t be next,” he pleads.
content warning ♡ pregnant! reader, sexual references, swearing & fluff
characters ♡ sakusa, atsumu, bokuto & hinata
kiyoomi sakusa
♡ he faltered
♡ there was half a minute of silence between the two of you; him just staring at your stomach while you gazed into his eyes
♡ he was almost certain that he misheard you, so he felt inclined to inquire, ‘huh?’ as indifferently as he could, though he wasn’t doing a good job of concealing the shocked expression on his face
♡ ‘i said i’m pregnant, sweetie.’ you giggled, admiring the emotions he displayed on his face as it wasn’t a sight you got to see often
♡ sakusa continued to stare at you, eyes wide
♡ though he knew what you meant, apart of him insisted that he was mishearing you
♡ his wide-eyes were fixated on you, his lips slightly agape as he tried to process what you just said and what this meant for the both of you
♡ the only emotion you could read of his face was shock. at first, you were sure that he was happy but he was just taking a while to accept it, but now that a few minutes had passed and he was still yet to say anything or even smile, you were starting to second guess yourself
♡ despite the fact sakusa had already agreed that he was on board with the idea of having a child many times before - in fact, there were nights where he’d admit that he can’t wait to start a family with you - but you still worried that perhaps he has now that had a change of heart
♡ that was until you noticed his eyes become unusually glossy and red, along with his cheeks adapting a somewhat red tint, ‘if this is a joke, (y/n), it’s not funny.’ his ordinary, monotone voice was now slightly shaky and low
♡ ‘it’s not a joke, ‘iyoomi.’ you laughed, feeling your own throat go dry and your cheek flare up upon seeing how emotional sakusa had become
♡ before the tears spilled from your eyes, you felt sakusa’s arms slowly snake around your waist, place an elongated kiss on your forehead then rest his chin on your shoulder
♡ he held you close enough that you could feel his rapid heartbeat thud against your chest and his wobbly breath tickle the back of your neck
♡ he stayed like that, silent, for a good few minutes
♡ when he finally pulled away to admire your stomach, you noticed how his damp cheeks glistened in the light and you couldn’t help but smile
♡ although he wasn’t very vocal about how happy he was, his actions spoke a thousand words
♡ he’d insist in home-cooking all your food now because he didn’t want to risk you getting food poisoning
♡ when he’d come home from practise, absolutely exhausted, the first thing he’d do when he gets home is wash his hands then cut you some fruit
♡ when he has free-time, he used to just watch TV but now he’s picked up a few hobbies of reading childcare books, tending to your every need/want and researching good baby names
♡ also, he’s so gentle with you - like, he was gentle with you before but this is a new extreme
♡ excluding the time he almost tackled you to the ground when you suggested atsumu as a baby name
♡ like he baby-proofs the house like a month into your pregnancy lmao
kōtarō bokuto
♡ the corners of his lips slowly curl into a bright smile, ‘pregnant?’
♡ you cocked your head to the side slightly, then hummed, ‘yeah. pregnant.’
♡ ‘like..with a kid?’
♡ you snorted, playfully rolling your eyes, ‘i’d hope so.’
♡ ‘like..with my kid?’
♡ ‘our kid - but yes.’
♡ a while passed and he had yet to do anything besides stare at you in pure adoration so you prompted him by opening your arms
♡ to which he immediately responded by throwing himself onto you, ‘I’m gonna be a dad?! like seriously?!’
♡ luckily you were sitting on your bed so you fell back onto that but you were still being smothered by his chest
♡ ‘bo!’ you squealed and squirmed under his weight and tight grip, glad that he was as cheery as you had hoped but not appreciating being suffocated
♡ he suddenly pulled away but kept his large hands glued to your shoulders, revealing the tears that were already streaming down his cheeks and dampened your shirt, ‘really?!’
♡ ‘yes, bokuto. i am 100% pregnant.’ you declared for the final time before bokuto cupped your face with his hands and pulled you in to a passionate kiss, not stopping until your lips were basically swollen
♡ he’s just so hyped during the first few days of your pregnancy and he’s just super duper ready to become a dad!
♡ like he’s already practising his dad jokes
♡ but then you remind him that he’s gonna have to wait around 9 months before he can actually see his baby and his hair literally deflates
♡ ugh how rude of you
♡ can you not like...make it grow faster?? please??
♡ once you explain to him that’s not how babies work, he kinda accepts it and just focuses his attention on you
♡ he kinda does some research on babies/pregnancy but not prior, he just does a quick google search when he needs to
♡ but the intention is definitely there bc he googles the most trivial of things like ‘what to make pregnegant ppl for breakfast?’
♡ ‘what do pragnant ppl need from the supermarket?’
♡ ‘can my pregenunt wife have peanut butter?’
♡ ‘how to spell preaignant’
atsumu miya
♡ DEEP denial
♡ he thinks you are playing a prank on him bc you don’t ‘look pregnant’
♡ even when you show him your positive pregnancy test he’s like ‘and how much did that cost?’
♡ he deadass acts as if he wasn’t the one who’s been trying to get you pregnant and raving on about how much he wants a family with you for the last few months
♡ but he just doesn’t want to believe you bc he know he’ll get way too happy for his own good and he’s afraid to be let down
♡ plus, it was one of those ‘a blessing of this magnitude couldn’t have happened to me - of all people - so this is probably either a cruel joke or a hallucination.’ moments
♡ he’s just so far gone that after your eleventh attempt at trying to convince him that you’re pregnant for real, you just give up
♡ so y’all just go around your business somewhat normally - except atsumu was more skittery - until your baby bump started to become more prominent
♡ one day, he came back from practise, noticed your bump and pulled you into the most passionate, heartfelt kiss before placing a gentle kiss upon your stomach, a buoyant grin gracing his features
♡ though he doesn’t say much since he is at a loss for words, he mutters a few sweet nothings into your ear as he carries you to the bedroom
♡ for a joke, he pretends to be gutted if you’re libido production decrease but really, he couldn’t care less
♡ but if it increases tho-
♡ expect him to take full advantage of that
♡ also, if he didn’t already treat you like his goddess, he does now
♡ work has moved down his list of priorities and you + his baby are now at number one
♡ usually he keeps his phone on silent/stuffs it into his bag while he is practising but now he insists on keeping it on full volume, out on the bench, just in case you call him for an emergency
♡ same goes for texts; he will literally stop mid-set to rush over to his phone if he hears it vibrate
♡ bokuto thinks it’s sweet but the rest of them get pretty annoyed of his antics quite quickly but whenever they try to call him out on it, he’s like ‘is your wife 6 months pregnant? no! i didn’t think so. i should be on paternity leave right now so be glad i’m blessing you with my presence.’
shōyō hinata
♡ he cannot stop thanking you
♡ as if you’re doing him a favour, which - depending on how you view it - you are
♡ he’s literally on his knees with his hands clasped together, tears of joy streaming down his face as he looks up at you in pure adoration, ‘thank you, (y/n)!’
♡ you tilted your head to the side and stared at him with a perplexed expression, ‘you’re welcome?’
♡ it’s a while before he moves from that position but when he does, it’s only so he can press his ear against your stomach to see if he can hear the baby
♡ ‘shō, i don’t think it’s body has even formed ye--’
♡ ‘shh! it’s speaking to me.’ he chuckled then proceeded to squeeze his eyes shut, intensely listening to whatever the baby had to say
♡ you quirked a brow, waiting for him to finish and once he did, he sprung to his feet and threw his arms over your shoulders to pull you in for a hug - in which he had to stop himself from squeezing you too tightly in fear of hurting you, as if pregnancy meant that your bones were now made of glass
♡ he’s just so happy that you agreed to bear his children 🙏
♡ also, seeing how excited you were to tell him about your pregnancy really prompted him to step up his husband-game
♡ from now on, he loads the dishwasher, does both of your laundry, cleans the house on his own and cooks most of the food
♡ he acts as if being pregnant means you are no longer able to do basic tasks but his real motive behind doing these things was not only to take the pressure off of you but to also prepare himself for father life 👍
♡ also, to prepare him for shopping for his kids’ clothes, he goes out and buys you maternity wear
♡ he does this like...3 weeks into your pregnancy though so the clothes just sit and catch dust until a few months later when you actually need them
♡ and although he is a bit of a pain to go stroller/pram shopping with (he just says buy whichever one goes the fastest), you let him take the reins when it came to buying/preparing the baby’s room and it came out beautiful!
♡ like the cradle was good quality and firm, the rug wouldn’t irritate the baby’s skin, the walls were painted expertly and the plushies/toys he picked out - unbeknownst to you at the time - kept the baby entertained for ages
♡ oh and no matter what day/week/month you are in of pregnancy, he will always look at you and your bump with the same amazement and gratitude as he did the first time you told him
Hey! May I request something with Bennett with a s/o who also has super bad luck and it just seems to like,,cancel out when they’re together?
Of course you can! 💞
This ask is really cute actually aaaaaa
-------
They had always been dogged by misfortune. Since birth, luck had never seemed to go their way. Their mother always told them to let sleeping dogs lie and that interfering could potentially put them in worse situations but they kept trying.
Their bad luck gave them anxiety at first, being too fearful to do most things or interact with most people, and they've used every good luck charm imaginable. However, as they grew older they began to grow used to it, brushing it off as if it were nothing.
They met Bennett by chance, stepping on a loose rock while climbing a cliffside, hitting several rocks on the way down. They didn't stop falling until they landed on something relatively soft.
Bennett groaned underneath them as they lied there, trying to get their eyes to refocus. They didn't completely register that a boy was squirming uncomfortably beneath them.
He pushed them off gently, holding his side as the impact has at the very least bruised his ribs. They continued to lie there disoriented, head lolling to the side as they tried to get their bearings. They most likely had a concussion.
Bennett gently rolled them off onto their back as he sat up, glancing over at them. There was no blood but they had clearly sustained a head injury. He called out to them only to recieve slurred gibberish as a response. He looked around in worry. They weren't too terribly far from Mondstadt but it would certainly take longer if he had to carry them.
He slapped their cheeks gently to get their attention, asking if they could stand. Blinking a few times, they attempted to get to their feet only to fall forward. He caught them and lifted them into a fireman's carry.
He apologised and began to make small talk to keep them awake until they could make it back to the city. He stayed with them as they got treatment and as them recovered as well. He introduced himself and told them that he found it strange that his bad luck did not strike when he was with them. They introduced themselves in return and apologised profusely for falling on him.
--
Now here the two of them were on an adventure together. After finding out that their bad luck only came back when they were away from Bennett and vice versa, the two decided to stick close to one another. When they were together the bad luck seemed to vanish on both ends.
There were no out of the blue lightning strikes, no strange mishaps, the loot from adventures was greater. The amount of things that went wrong decreased greatly and overall quality of life improved with less things going wrong.
The two of them decided to go on a picnic today. Bennett took the blanket and dishware and left to go set up underneath the tree at Windrise as the latter finished up cooking and filling the basket. Bennett was rather quick with the walk, knowing that the longer the two stayed apart the more likely the bad luck would ruin their picnic. That however, did not stop him from tripping and scraping the side of his face as he made it to his destination. He wiped the blood on the back of his hand and excitedly set up what he brought.
I’ve been thinking about various aspects of SPoP, as I am wont to do, and as often happens, I’ve settled on trying to figure out why I feel a certain way. Namely regarding why I, personally, am able to feel so much more compassion towards Hordak rather than towards the Princesses. After all, the Princesses are the ones being wronged throughout this show, aren’t they? Their lands are being invaded. They’re the ones having to fight to maintain their way of life. They’re losing ground because of Hordak’s war.
So... why do I find it hard to care about them? Why are their experiences in this conflict just sort of... well, meaningless to me?
And why, instead, do my tender emotional responses strongly favor Hordak, despite his serious role in starting a terrible war?
Well! As per usual, I’m going to try to talk my way through it.
(and, as per usual, your mileage may vary!)
Let’s start with the Princesses. They range from children to young adults. Seem like reasonably nice girls, despite various flaws. They clearly did not ask for a war, had no hand in starting it, and are clearly on the side of good, seeking to protect innocents and simply return to a peaceful way of life.
They appear perfectly designed to garner sympathy and connection... yet I feel so little for them. I feel little because, despite the show telling me that they’re fighting for their lives, and for their home, despite them being the apparent underdogs in their battle against the Horde, I feel like their lives remain relatively stable. Pleasant. Even enjoyable.
Essentially, I feel like despite everything, they do not truly suffer. Not in a way that is consistent or touching.
The arcs the Princesses go through either deal largely with matters unrelated to the war and subsequently involve less arduous difficulties, or are handled in such a way that any real pain is quickly resolved and loses its impact.
Frosta and Perfuma represent the former. Both are parentless rulers of their kingdoms, but there is no real confirmation that their parents were killed by the Horde, and they themselves seem largely unperturbed by parental loss. They maintain control of their kingdoms throughout the series. Frosta never loses the Kingdom of Snows, while Perfuma, though in brief danger of losing Plumeria due to damage to the Heart Blossom, ends up... well, defeating the Horde with a band of untrained hippies. So while they fight in the war against Hordak, they never really suffer any significant, confirmed personal losses because of it.
In fact, the Plumerian conflict is... kind of played for laughs.
The other aspects of their arcs have largely to do with friendship matters, or self-belief, and are also dealt with quickly and with little fanfare. Frosta learns how to make friends. Perfuma learns how to play with cacti. Afterwards, Frosta spends the remainder of the story essentially being a violence-happy little kid; amusing, yes, but not particularly tugging at my heartstrings. Perfuma likewise settles into “sympathetic friend” and, though she’s involved in Scorpia’s story at the end, also does little to invoke any sort of significant emotion.
we’re just going to skirt around the whole “leashing Entrapta” thing, as it’s not relevant to this discussion
(Spinnerella and Netossa barely even register to me, given their very bare-bones roles in the first four seasons and standard “chipped loved one” narrative (that everyone experiences) in the fifth.)
So, let’s move on to Glimmer and Mermista.
Glimmer and Mermista are arguably the two Princesses who actually lose unique things in the war and suffer because of those losses. And yet, because of the way the show is written, even their pain is dulled in such a way that it just does not facilitate me forming any sort of consistent, compassionate bond with them.
Mermista is the only Princess to actually lose a kingdom. In Hordak’s most visible evil act, Salineas is burned and beflagged, leading to Mermista deeply mourning the loss of her home, her culture, her peop- oh. Hm.
She takes it oddly well, doesn’t she? Apparently, ice cream in a bathtub is how deposed rulers deal with the loss of their entire country nowadays.
And once she’s done with her moment of moping, she’s back in the fight, fueled by Sea Hawk’s shenanigans and her own power ballad (and Bright Moon’s lack of ice cream). There is no extended mourning for her people, no real depth to the loss she has supposedly suffered. There’s not even a real sense of it: we never see the people of Salineas, never know them, never get to feel anything for them. And with them being all but theoretical, the show appears to have no issue quickly forgetting them: Mermista never negotiates on their behalf, or visits refugees, or... anything. She might use Salineas in her future battle cries and as an excuse for increased recklessness, but that homage is the extent of emotion that we see.
Kingdom gone, bathtub ice cream finished, she goes on living life as if little has happened. And, because of her royal connections, she doesn’t even experience a decrease in quality of life: she continues to live in luxurious comfort despite an apparently raging war.
Because of how the writing handles Salineas, and her character in general, I never feel connected to how Mermista feels. Whatever pain she experiences is there and gone in a few scenes, quickly dealt with so the story can continue. There is no exploration, no nuance, nothing to really make me appreciate any sort of depth to her experience. And so I feel little, if anything, for her plight.
Glimmer, then, is the last chance the show has to make me feel something for the Alliance Princesses’ suffering during this war, and while season four nearly does it, the series again ends up falling short.
Glimmer loses her mother. The actual sacrifice is emotional... though that emotion, admittedly, comes mainly from Adora. Glimmer’s pain comes through at the beginning of season four, when she is clearly in mourning all while needing to take Angella’s place as queen. Afterwards, season four does a fairly good job of making the loss meaningful: Glimmer becomes more and more willing to commit dark acts due to a mixture of grief and desperation. It works well, and out of all of the Princesses, I feel for her the most... until season five comes along and pretty much erases Angella from character consciousness.
Angella’s death essentially plays no role in season five. Glimmer does not appear to think back to it. While it drives her actions during season four, it appears to have been all but forgotten now, a particularly glaring shift when Catra, the one who is practically responsible, joins the group without it coming up at all. Glimmer’s other parental loss, Micah, likewise becomes meaningless not because of questionable writing choices, but because he simply never died.
Glimmer’s other problem, her rift with Bow and Adora, is repaired within an episode and never spoken of again. That... falls quite flat for me.
And so, by the end of the series, Glimmer fails to maintain a believable level of distress and thus doesn’t invoke any real emotion in me. The one thing that really mattered, that really hurt her? Suddenly irrelevant in the name of Catra’s redemption. Hm.
And while these are the specific character examples that come to mind, the general situation the Princesses find themselves also fails to carry much weight in my mind. They are in the middle of a war, yet they continue to live in luxury. Skirmishes carry a sense of light-heartedness and sometimes seem almost fun. Battle plans are developed via a game of DnD. There is just no consistent sense of urgency or severity, no believable sense of emotional depth to convey to me that these characters are in truly dire straits. Yes, there are moments... but these moments are so brief, and carry such questionable lasting impact, that they don’t connect with me the way that they should. And as a result, the plight of the Princesses just feels hollow to me.
I just... I just find myself unable to care about them because, when all is said and done, I don’t feel like they are truly in danger of real harm, or that they are realistically affected by their losses. It all just feels so shallow to me.
Now, let’s pivot and look at Hordak. Hordak, whom I still cry over on the daily. Hordak, who has owned my heart for over a year now. Hordak, who invokes in me all of the emotions.
What is the difference between Hordak and the Princesses, other than the glaring fact that he is the instigator of the Etherian war and thus a bad, bad man? What makes him snap my heartstrings in half, while the Princesses barely manage a gentle tug?
The answer is that Hordak legitimately suffers. Terribly. Consistently. Throughout the entire series. While the Princesses experience brief moments of distress that the show quickly sweeps under the rug in favor of witty banter and friendship problems, Hordak is the direct opposite: he experiences only the occasional breath of happiness while otherwise drowning in a constant sea of bitterness, fear, pain, and deep unhappiness.
From the moment we meet him, Hordak is stern and humorless and angry, and while this initially appears to be a side effect of him being a Standard Ultimate Villain Who Never Smiles, we quickly learn that it is due to his struggle. Hordak is constantly struggling against his physical defect, battling an illness that causes him not only significant health problems, but incredible shame. He is likewise constantly struggling to earn the respect and validation and nonexistent love of his god-brother. His sour demeanor, with all of its anger and dourness, originates in the fact that, throughout the overwhelming majority of the series, he is gravely unhappy. He is in ever-present distress, both physical and emotional.
And as the series goes on, does that distress lessen? No. No, instead, he is rejected by his brother, thoroughly humiliated, and brutally “reset” back into his life as an actual cult slave. Rather than having his difficulties minimized like so many Princesses do, he finds himself in ever-worsening circumstances, graduating from (supposed) “disgraced, disabled military veteran” to “enslaved cultist desperate to be loved by his loveless master.”
Any moments of happiness are not only relatively brief, they are taken away as quickly as the Princesses’ moments of difficulty are. Hordak experiences love and friendship for the first time with Entrapta, only to swiftly lose her to Catra’s lies and spiraling madness. He finally begins to win the Etherian War (which is bad, yes, I know), only to realize that his victories stem from Catra’s betrayal before the whole affair culminates in Prime’s nauseating violation of his personhood.
It does not stop. Physically, mentally, or emotionally: not until his triumph over Prime in the season five finale does Hordak stop hurting, and even that is marred by Prime taking control of his body in a final act of nightmarish control before, bless him, Hordak is freed and able to begin his recovery.
In addition to being a series constant, Hordak’s pain is conveyed. It is dramatically shown through facial expressions, through body language, through phenomenal voice work, through scenes that clearly depict real anguish.
The purification ritual is one of them; what other character do we hear scream like that, over and over, due to such terrible agony? His reunion with Prime is another; I will never forget how deeply I could sense his fear, how watching him tremble and beg instilled within me a sort of breathless panic because the scene actually made me want to instinctively protect him... but I could not because, y’know: cartoon.
Hordak’s suffering is not only ever-present, it is varied and developed and communicated to the viewer in ways that result in it making a lasting impression. It is never minimized. It is never ignored. It is painful and horrifying with little reprieve, and it has a deep, life-altering effect on him.
That, friends and neighbors, is why I think I find myself feeling so much more compassion towards Hordak than I do towards the Princesses, despite his less-enticing place on the moral spectrum. Hordak is in pain. Consistently, meaningfully. He suffers, and the story takes it with every ounce of seriousness it can muster.
The Princesses, on the other hand, either experience little hurt or, when they do suffer, do so briefly before the narrative shoves it aside in favor of Catradora other things. As a result, they fail to make the same impression. They fail to garner my compassion because, in the end, they just don’t seem to really need it.
