#Maybe I became too soft with age and weight of my own traumas...

[alma-amentet]

Relmyna Verenim makes me want to make something bad to her. Like, expose her to the same torture she performs on others... Or even better, returning her to Cyrodiil and making sure she's jailed for a lifetime.

No really, she's triggering and annoying. I was shamed for angsty stories with some torture porn, more than once in my life, but my stories are usually hurt/comfort with emphasis on 'comfort' and recovery, with author's 100% dissaprove of violence and abuse. Not like this.

[gildedbarbarian]

They failed me in a thousand ways, but I don’t think this was one of them. I never said anything, after all, didn’t have the vocabulary for my experiences or the worldliness to understand the real tragedy of what had happened. I, as all children do, lacked the perspective to understand the frailty of what I lost. Of what was taken from me. That part, I really can’t fault them for. I’m sure there were signs because there always are. But childhood trauma and ADHD present similarly at younger ages, and while it wasn’t a possibility anyone considered until a lot later in my life, the fact that that line is blurred in a Chicken or the Egg type of scenario isn’t something that escapes me. Maybe I just hid it well. Maybe I shoved it so far underneath the bed that it became part of the foundation. Maybe it wormed its way into my bone marrow. 

The victims of their failure pile up around me, and the older I get, the more work I do, the more I find. It’s sort of like an archeological excavation dig, I imagine. You know something’s there, but you’re not sure what or how much or how deep it goes. In my case, the trenches are full to the brim. It almost feels like I can’t throw a stone without finding one of them, purely on accident. Some days, it feels like I’m one bad touch away from being buried alive in their numbers. Suffocated by the weight of my own tragedy, smothered out of existence by it. 

I found another. A few days ago, a term was hurled at me by someone who will never know my name, and true to form, it bounced off of one. I’d never seen her before. Well, I guess that’s not strictly true. She’s been in the corner of my vision for as long as I can remember, arms always outstretched, always asking for help. I don’t know if I just stopped seeing her or if I started to ignore her or if she really just faded out for a while. Got lost in the crowd of other victims that were much, much more palatable than she is. 

She’s not theirs, but she is someone’s. Mine, in every way that matters, but also foreign in a way that I don’t know if I’ll ever have the vocabulary for, even if I ingested the whole of Webster’s with a healthy side of Oxford’s. Too small to be a threat, too soft to be a weapon, too young to self-advocate, she’s everything I hate about childhood. I’ve been told that the only way she’ll get better is if I acknowledge her, bring her in close and offer her the shelter that no one else ever did. There isn’t a day that passes where that seems feasible, and sometimes I think she’ll haunt me like a sickly Victorian ghost until I make it to my grave. 

That’s not something I’m proud of. 

I feel a little bit like I’m choking. As if this ode to my pain is stuck in my throat like a peppermint down the wrong pipe. Like that time I choked on a Granny candy in first grade and could feel the imprint of it in my airway for the rest of the day. I didn’t ask for help then, either. In a tragically artistic, gothic sort of color, I’m jealous of women like Mary Shelley. Women who took the pain the world gave them and made something horrendous, something splendid, something gilded and remembered out of it. Women who hold a mirror up to the world through their fiction, who can change minds through the sort of smoke and mirrors and sleight of hand that makes it hard to realize what’s happening at all. I don’t think that will ever be me. 

I, it seems, am hopelessly cursed to write non-fiction. The mirror I hold up is not gilded or polished. It is smudged and stained and cracked. The kind of mirror where you can’t see what’s directly behind you, but you can see four different shades of your own face. Fragmented. Jilted. Wrecked. No one will look at my mirror and call it beautiful. Instead, they will look into it and see infinity in reverse. Every step that got them where they are now. The ugly, bitter, harsh truth. Or at least, that’s my hope. Horrifying, isn’t it? 

It wouldn’t be the first time.

- what do a mirror and a ghost have to say to one another? (c.a.d.)

[beauregardlionett]

// a quick thing inspired by @casukaga wonderful art of beau because i’m w e a k

She never truly felt important before the Nein.

There had of course been the natural self-importance of children. The belief the world revolved around you before the self-awareness set in and the world beyond the walls of your childhood home became real. Even then, the distance between her parents and Beau yielded little reassurance of her worth.

With the Nein, it was a gradual thing. Days, weeks, months on the road together, protecting one another and learning the ins and outs of their trauma brought about its own sense of importance. There stood an unspoken weight of worth - especially after Molly - that they needed each other. If one of them were to vanish, it would be like a block tower losing a piece of foundation.

Beau learned how to bear the weight in silence, because they rarely said things out loud. Permanence was foreign to some of them, especially Beau, but she got used to the wordless affirmations. She learned how to accept Fjord joining her for workouts, watching her back and watching his in turn. How to meet Jester halfway when they shared whispered recollections after a long day, giggling into the quiet night. Beau became familiar with the sturdy weight of Veth leaning into Beau’s hip while they traded companionable silence or outlandish stories.

It was a little more disorienting to find her footing with Caleb’s permanence, because even he struggled to figure their waltz out. Eventually, they learned how to let their similarities intertwine and how to compromise their differences. She had an easier time learning Caduceus’ ways, but a harder time accepting. It took several sessions of brewing tea and simmering emotions on Beau’s end to understand that his calm presentation was not a facade. That he would not disappear on them the way Molly had.

And then there was Yasha - who was anything but permanence. The hardest for Beau to learn and accept. At first, Yasha existed like a flash of lightning - un coup de foudre - there one moment and gone the next. Even when she promised to come around again, Beau never took her word for it.

Because Beau had never been important, never someone worth coming back to.

But Yasha returned every time. And Beau struggled to reconcile her perceived worthlessness with that.

And then Yasha was different - gone - and Beau’s unfortunate first thought had been about time things made sense again.

She instantly hated herself, because that wasn’t fair to Yasha, who couldn’t be evil, couldn’t have turned against them. So imagine Beau’s surprise when they learned Yasha had not willingly turned against them, had fought and screamed and cried to break free and return. Who apologized several times over for hurting Beau, who continued to heal Beau with warm hands and held her like she was important, like she was worth permanence.

Recently, Beau’s importance to people took on the form of words.

Follow your own advice. Don’t go.

Stay alive, Beauregard.

Stay alive, please.

Return to us.

Stay. Alive.

How was she supposed to know how to respond? Her entire life, Beauregard had been cast aside, told she was a problem, too much to handle, too brash, too crude. A problem passed from one set of hands to another, like they might solve her by beating down every jagged edge she possessed. They acted as if the process didn’t shatter her and produce more jagged shards for more people to handle.

Being told, to her face, that she meant something to people, that they wanted her to come back, was jarring. She never considered she would make it this far, of the full expectation that she would never see the age of twenty-five. There was no fail-safe for gratitude, for genuine affection.

She assumed she would be Achilles, struck down from behind in a spot of vulnerability exposed.

What was she supposed to do now when people expected her - wanted her - to come back?

Yasha found her stuck in the spiral of these thoughts, chewing the skin back from her fingernails with absent vigor.

“Beau?”

She looked up at the call of her name. The motion tore back a piece of skin she had caught between her teeth. Beau winced and made a quiet noise of surprised pain. The skin around her nail was shiny with saliva and the blood welling from the tear.

Yasha knelt quickly at Beau’s side, one hand encircling Beau’s wrist and the other laying gentle pressure over her knuckles. The soft glow from Yasha’s hands raced through Beau’s veins and sealed the tiny wound.

Beau wondered when she became so important a figure to Yasha that she would spend her precious healing on someone like Beau without a second thought.

“What’s wrong, Beau?” Yasha asked in that soft voice Beau had come to know so well.

“Nothing,” Beau tried to lie, and saw the shift in Yasha’s expression when she didn’t believe her.

“I don’t know,” Beau sighed, acutely aware of Yasha’s hands still holding her wrist. “Just having a minor crisis, I suppose. ’Bout time, I guess. They’re usually scheduled once every two months.”

Her deprecating attempt at humor did not seem to amuse Yasha. She leveled Beau with a look that seemed to pierce through every feeble defense Beau was hastily trying to construct.

It occurred to Beau that this conversation felt sort of inevitable.

“People keep telling me to stay alive lately,” Beau said, turning her eyes away from Yasha’s face. She had a hard time maintaining eye contact on a normal day. When emotions were added into the mix - especially her own - it was impossible for Beau to hold another person’s gaze.

“Which, like, that isn’t a bad thing,” Beau continued. “But it feels like a lot of pressure. It’s a heavy expectation to put on someone who may or may not end up in the astral plane fighting a floating, conscious city in about a week. I think it’s just...making me realize how many people I have in my life now that are permanent and care about me? I’ve never been...important to other people before.”

She risked a glance at Yasha, found a glimmer of guilty realization there, and hated herself. Yasha had been one of the people to tell her to stay alive.

Then again, Beau had extended the same sentiment to Yasha in return, so maybe she was just as bad.

“How about,” Yasha started, then stopped. Beau turned more fully toward her, curious about the tone to Yasha’s voice.

“What if I asked you to stay with me instead?”

Beau blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Instead of asking you to stay alive,” Yasha shaped each word with careful consideration, brows furrowed with concentration. “I’m asking you to stay with me. All you have to do is stick with us, and that seems much more manageable if you ask me.”

Her words startled a watery laugh out of Beau, and she hadn’t realized how close to crying she was until it happened.

“Yeah,” Beau said, voice warbled. “Yeah, that sounds a lot easier.”

Yasha smiled, the pull of her lips small and fond, relieved if a little sad. Her fingers released Beau’s wrist so she could lift an arm in invitation. Another facet of Yasha’s permanence presented to Beau without hesitation, an action that left Beau breathless.

It didn’t take her as long as it once did to accept the offer.

[puppy-phum]

#10YearPromise - pingxie blabberings

bc i wasn’t able to answer these questions throughout the week (as i’ve been traveling around while being extremely busy), i decided to just collect all of my answers under one post! i never tire talking about pingxie so this was extremely enjoyable ♥ am also practicing some very shameless self promo in this so be prepared!

thank you for @laireshi​ for organizing this event (i take it’s you alone? am not sure, sorry for my laziness) and being amazing in general ^^ i won’t be able to join as i am still very busy and summer is always pure chaos for me, so i can only hope that other ppl have fun! if you are not aware of 10 Year Promise Pingxie Exchange, you can find the original announcement post here. join in if you have the time and inspiration ^^ 

and then to my answers which i will be placing under the cut bc i don’t want to flood anyone’s dash with me going bonkers over these two idiots. enjoy tho if you decide to read this :’D ♥

I. What made you ship pingxie?

Back when I got into Reboot bc of ZYL (as has happened to many ppl probably) and then saw stuff about pingxie once I started going through that drama’s tag on tumblr, my first thought about them was that they had to be a crack ship. The way Reboot portrays them as well as their actors and their huuuge age difference affected this a lot, and I was actually cackling at them bc all their moments in Reboot made me just go “oh, socialist brotherhood at its best” in my head. But then I finished watching Reboot’s 1st season (as the 2nd one wasn’t out yet) and started reading some fics. I learned more about them and the canon storyline. I learned how damn devoted they are to each other, and after that, many moments in Reboot gained new meaning in my eyes. So, I think what made me ship pingxie was a mix of Reboot (especially the hallucination moment where Xiaoge dies and Wu Xie loses it bc that’s my jam as I later on became to notice) and then the amazing fics I dug out during that time. After that the love grew stronger as I watched the other dramas, and these days I’m a lost cause. I feel like I spend most of my awake time thinking about these two and their love. They are amazing. I cry rivers for them.

II. Which pingxie version is your favorite?

After finding pingxie, I fell in love with them properly during TLT2. There is just something about that stage of their relationship for me, the stage where both of them are still very tentative about everything but they have deep down accepted that they’re tied now. Wu Xie is figuring out so many things, coming to terms with being betrayed by his uncle and slowly realizing that something bigger is going on behind the scenes. Meanwhile, Xiaoge is learning how to trust Wu Xie and how to accept that he cannot leave this naïve boy behind. It feels very fragile, and I have so many emotions about TLT2 bc of this. Xiaoge is so soft and feels very multilayered. Wu Xie is still his naïve self but is slowly gaining some sharper edges as he comes to face the cruel world. I like how Cheng Yi and Hou Minghao have portrayed this dynamic. Also, TLT2 is just very extra with all the pingxie scenes, who would be able to resist loving them? So, I have to admit that my favorite pingxie is these two, tho Ultimate Note comes very, very close.

III. What’s your favorite pingxie headcanon?

Headcanons are a bit hard for me as I don’t know enough of the canon. I have not read the novels so most of the story I’ve just patched together from all the bits I’ve read from somewhere (here, on twt, in fics) and through the scenes the dramas have shown me. I feel like the whole world is lowkey made of headcanons for me :’D But hmm, my favorite pingxie headcanon… I’d say there are two and then one bonus bc it’s more a Wu Xie related headcanon than just pingxie. The first one is that the pingxie confession happens after the Bronze Gate. It feels like the only moment when they’re both ready for such a thing. I’d say Xiaoge comes to realize his own feelings a lot earlier and he might tell something to unconscious Wu Xie before leaving for ten years, but he will not actually leave Wu Xie with such a burden. He doesn’t want to ask anything when it sounds like he doesn’t even believe that Wu Xie will be willing to wait for him, and I’d say that for him, his feelings are going to be fine even if Wu Xie never learns about them. He might even wish that Wu Xie never learns about them bc he’s not able to promise much as an immortal and amnesiac being (he outlives Wu Xie, most likely forgets him). For Wu Xie however, I’d say he needs time. He really is way too naïve and I’d say that he needs those ten years to realize that he’s in love with his best friend. I dunno who confesses first after Xiaoge returns but I think that only after that decade their relationship is “mature” enough to hold the weight of a confession (even if I also love to play around with the thought of them getting together during the events of Ultimate Note bc that drama offered many good chances for that). Another headcanon for me is that Xiaoge will find a way to die when Wu Xie does. After learning about them more, I feel like Reboot implies this too. Xiaoge is very accepting of Wu Xie’s death but in the last moments, when he really thinks that this is going to be it for Wu Xie, he hesitates. We see a spark of desperation there, and I’ve come to think that his initial plan, the plan he came up with once he got that call from Wu Xie and knew he would join Wu Xie on his last adventure, was to see this through for Wu Xie’s sake and then leave and die alone. I don’t know how much there would be left for Zhang Qiling after Wu Xie is gone. I feel like this is also what Wu Xie fears. But would he really resent Xiaoge for joining him in death after living such a long and hard life? I’d say no and I’d say that even Pangzi accepts this as one of the most likely outcomes. The bonus one then feels very personal to me. I don’t usually talk about this bc I feel so unsure of even mentioning this but I’ve seen others with similar thoughts so am sharing! I’ve never before gotten any vibes about a character’s sexuality in a drama I’ve watched but Reboot Wu Xie looked at me once in the eye and all I could hear was my brain yelling “asexual”. So, that is just my personal headcanon for Wu Xie. He’s ace and proud of it. He can flirt etc. but sex makes him go naah. He doesn’t need it or want it. He can appreciate beauty and hot ppl without wanting to sleep with them and I think his relationship with Xiaoge fits very well into this. I don’t have any personal experiences with being ace but I feel like Wu Xie has read the name once, shrugged and gone, “guess that’s me” and continued on with his life. He’s badass like that and I love him for it. (take a very relevant meme lol from this post)

IV. What’s the ideal pingxie date?

Ah, christ. I dunno if I’ve ever thought about them going on a date? In the middle of tomb raiding, hospital trips and fighting against powers bigger than themselves, I’ve rarely seen any time for them to do something like that lol. But after Ultimate Note, I’ve thought about star gazing a lot. Just them, the infinite night sky and some lonely hilltop. They would probably take a blanket with them, huddle together and talk about things in hushed voices. Wu Xie would go on a ramble about all the constellations and their meanings and mythology behind them and Xiaoge would just nod at him and watch Wu Xie talking. Maybe he would offer some tidbits in the middle of the rambling, making Wu Xie smile brightly. It would be relaxing and comfortable and loving. They would make out a lil bit. Would maybe lie down and play with each other’s hair. All their worries would feel insignificant. Wu Xie would fall asleep for a moment and Xiaoge would wake him up with a kiss to get him moving again so that they don’t need to sleep on the cold ground. They would return home and drink something warm and then go to sleep, cuddled together and happy. relevant edit x

V. What’s your favorite pingxie getting together scenario?

I guess I already talked about this a bit but let me elaborate then! As said, I’d see it happening after the Bronze Gate. I am not sure if it would be right away (they’re both going through so much trauma at that point) or if it would happen after Reboot (maybe we would still need Wu Xie almost dying for them to get their shit together), but I’d say it happens in a rush either way. It’s one of those “I have to tell you something before it’s too late” -type of moments. Or one of those “Bc I love you, you idiot!” -type of moments. I feel like I keep thinking that maybe Wu Xie would have to confess first bc as said, Xiaoge wouldn’t like to burden Wu Xie with his feelings when there’s so little he can give in the sense of normalcy. But then again, I have written a oneshot where Xiaoge is the first one to confess and that always feels better for me. That at some point Xiaoge feels secure enough to tell Wu Xie about his own feelings. That he feels confident and comfortable enough to say it out loud while still expecting nothing in return bc he knows that Wu Xie won’t abandon him either way. But no matter how that happens, I always see it as this dam breaking. The emotions finally become too strong. Something happens that reminds them that life is too short. Something happens that makes them finally talk it out and ah, Pangzi can finally take a break, what a joy

VI. What’s your favorite pingxie moment?

Every adaptation has its own good moments so let me make a list (like I saw someone else do too):

The Lost Tomb:

Xiaoge rescues Wu Xie from the shibie

Wu Xie worrying over unconscious Xiaoge plus taking care of him in the hotel room

The Pingxie MomentTM aka Xiaoge saving Wu Xie from falling and then cradling the boy to his chest while thumb rubbing his shoulder

The Lost Tomb 2:

Xiaoge revealed to be Baldie and Wu Xie yelling at him about it

Lowkey the whole underwater tomb arc bc holy shit that’s gay

Wu Xie losing it when Xiaoge doesn’t come up from the underwater tomb, diving after him and then almost dying himself + Pangzi getting angry at him for being stupid

pingxie ft. magical skype in the bronze tree cave (and Xiaoge being emo about the 1000yo warrior guy right before that)

Xiaoge rescuing Wu Xie from drowning (they shared air, you cannot convince me otherwise) + Wu Xie giving Xiaoge his watch in the hospital (relevant edits x x)

Wu Xie’s face when he sees Zhang Buxun in the coffin bc I love pain :)

Xiaoge not shooting Wu Xie despite not remembering him in the mountain village

Wu Xie grabbing Xiaoge’s jacket after being kidnapped and the Iron Triangle reunites in that old Chen guy’s cabin, asking, “Is that you?” from Xiaoge to make sure that he remembers again while looking like the biggest puppy (relevant edit x)

also some relevant memes x

Ultimate Note:

The hand over mouth reunion in the Golmud Sanatorium

“Xiaoge will ignore anyone else but you”

Xiaoge pretending he isn’t Losing ItTM throughout the whole time Wu Xie is in the Devil’s City with A-Ning

more hand over mouth with the gigantic snake

“The goddess has ascended”

Wu Xie protecting Xiaoge after he returns from the jade meteorite 

“Do you remember me?” “Wu Xie.”

Wu Xie promising to help Xiaoge find his memories no matter what bc Xiaoge’s business is Wu Xie’s business 

“Maybe you can return home with a wife today.” Wu Xie: proceeds to stare at Xiaoge, horrified

“Take me home.”

The sword gifting scene (especially Xiaoge denying the possibility of him killing Wu Xie or them harming each other, relevant edits x x)

other relevant edits for ultimate note x x

Reboot:

Wu Xie telling Xiaoge about his sickness and then Xiaoge coming back and promising to join Wu Xie on his trip (relevant edit x)

the death hallucination bc am a masochist 

Wu Xie’s death dream where Xiaoge calls to him but then accepts his choice to move forward bc am a masochist pt. 2

pingxie reunion in the Thunder City forest where Xiaoge saves Wu Xie & co. from the poisonous gas 

the moment in Thunder City where Wu Xie sits outside at night, eating the peanuts Pangzi gave him and then notices Xiaoge, offering him the peanuts and smiling 

when Xiaoge leaves for the last time and then gets reunited with healed Wu Xie against all odds

the train scene and their softest smiles to each other  

Time Raiders:

Wu Xie being the best bean and just wanting to befriend this mysterious man while seeing right under his skin and making Xiaoge baffled and fall in love in approximately 0.5 seconds

Xiaoge, catch! *proceeds to save only Wu Xie when they fall into that shibie horror chamber*  

Xiaoge’s desperation to save Wu Xie from the crumbling ground 

their death waltz at the end of the movie plus Xiaoge’s sacrifice

+ Sand Sea: 

“Don’t you dare call him Xiaoge!” 

Wu Xie offering his friends and then himself as comfort to Li Cu when he’s scared while smiling very softly at the memory of Xiaoge 

“But isn’t his surname Wu?” Hei Xiazi: You have seen nothing yet, you sweet summer child

Wu Xie talking about Xiaoge’s past in the temple (aka the Tibetan Sea Flower story bc I just adore how pretty they’ve made those scenes) 

VII. What is the best gift Wu Xie and Xiaoge could give each other?

I haven’t really thought about this type of stuff either bc we have already seen a ton of gifts being exchanged! I love the watch Wu Xie gives to Xiaoge in TLT2 as mentioned (it’s so silly but also so sweet) and I love it that Wu Xie gifts Xiaoge with a new sword in Ultimate Note. Also, I feel like I can count the food Wu Xie leaves for Xiaoge in Ultimate Note and that one moment where Xiaoge offers his knife for Wu Xie as a “pen”. They would give anything for each other as long as the other asked (which they never do) so I dunno what type of gift would matter the most. As it’s so hard to say, let me talk about one more headcanon that I’ve been thinking about ever since the infamous Bazaar photoshoot for Ultimate Note/XYL & ZSX. So, we see them having matching rings and necklaces in that photoshoot. I think jewelry would be kind of difficult for Xiaoge to wear when he needs to fight, as jewelry could be a hindrance in that type of situation But my brain won’t shut up about “pingxie married!!!” when I ask this question from it. To be honest, I do not see pingxie getting married in the traditional sense. They don’t need something like that after everything they’ve gone through. But I like to play around with the thought of promise rings. Just them exchanging rings for fun, for their own sakes, to have something concrete that reminds them of their promise to each other and of their feelings. Maybe even Xiaoge could wear that ring under his gloves idk. But am a sucker for that thought so my answer to this is then simply: a ring. relevant edits x x

if you read this far, thank you so much! I hope this gave you something and thank you once more for organizing this and allowing everyone to share their love for pingxie ^^ ♥

[knit-wear-it]

Abnormal Psychology II

Joan Leland’s Two Greatest Disappointments

PhD student!Crane, Undergrad!Harley, Narrator!Joan Leland / Writing exercise to help me work through backstories. Which includes rewriting the first part of this. Because it was terrible.

Read Abnormal Psychology I Here

**Reminder: Harley killed her college boyfriend.

Abnormal Psychology II

2. Joan Leland's Two Greatest Failures

Eight years before Harley meets the Joker.

Joan Leland had been teaching Psychology at Gotham University for over twenty-five years, the tenured head of the department for nearly ten. During those years, she’d seen many precocious PhD candidates, but few of them stood out like Jonathan Crane.

She first met Jonathan when he was twenty-two years old, freshly graduated from a southern university known for its football team rather than its academics. With a bachelor’s in clinical psychology, and a minor in chemistry, his grades had been excellent, and his tutors called him ‘brilliant’ in their referrals. He was an obvious choice for an interview. 

The young man Joan met had been caustic, bordering on rude, and she immediately suspected he was either on the spectrum or suffering some other mental health ailment. That wasn’t a mark against him - so many students of psychology were drawn to the field because of their own struggles. But Crane had a unique interest - obsession if the intensity in his pale eyes was any indication - in fear that hinted at PTSD more than intellectual curiosity. Still, despite Joan’s reservations, Crane was invited to join that year’s group of post-graduate students.

He hadn’t fit in, making numerous enemies amongst his cohort, fellow twenty-somethings who submitted complaints about his rudeness and inflexibility. Then there were Crane’s complaints - of which there had been many - accusing his peers of being lazy and holding him back. In the end, Crane spent the collaborative early years of his PhD working alone. 

It was in Crane’s third year that Joan became well acquainted with him. As head of the department, she had the final say in allocating budgets to research projects. Predictably, Jonathan believed his doctorate thesis to be of paramount importance above his fellow graduate students, and he spent an increasing amount of time lobbying Joan for more money, and issuing empty threats about going to the dean if she didn’t agree. 

“Twenty-thousand dollars?” Joan asked warily, raising her eyebrows at Crane over the top of the proposal he’d just handed her. He was a skinny, pale young man at twenty-five, with an untidy flop of black hair and striking pale blue eyes. His clothes were always neat and tidy, his preference for gray slacks, black oxfords, and ties beneath wool vests separating him from his peers, who tended towards more childish versions of professional dressing. He might have been handsome if it weren’t for the way he carried himself - arrogant, impatient, full of disdain.  

Joan felt sorry for him. 

“I require a larger pool of test subjects,” Crane explained stiffly, his top lip curling. “The volunteers aren’t good enough.”

“Why aren’t they enough?” Joan frowned as she removed her spectacles. “Your peers have no problem with the volunteers.”

Crane closed his eyes and inhaled sharply like he was rallying his patience, or maybe he found being asked to explain himself deeply offensive. 

“I require a certain kind of subject,” he forced a bitter smile that made Joan’s eyes widen. “I need to vet them myself. It’s essential to my research.”

“I understand, Jonathan,” Joan offered him a sympathetic smile and set his proposal aside. “I’m afraid twenty-thousand is out of the question. I may be able to free up five for you.”

“Ten,” Crane insisted sourly. “Dr Leland, I’m sure you’re aware that it would be generous to call the department’s psychopharmacology resources lacking.”

“I’m sorry, Jonathan, this isn’t a negotiation,” Joan sighed as she got to her feet, adjusting her pastel suit jacket. “You’ll have to make do with five-thousand. Now, please excuse me, I have a meeting.” 

She gestured to the door when an idea occurred to her - perhaps a creative solution. Crane isolated himself from his peers, and he never spoke about friends or family. He was missing empathy in his life, with no one to care for, and no one to show him compassion in return.

“Actually,” Joan’s smile brightened. “Have you thought about signing up for the free therapy program the student union set up?”

Crane’s pale eyes widened incredulously. 

“Dr Leland… are you suggesting I need therapy?” he demanded indignantly.

“Well, no,” Joan admitted, though it was abundantly clear Crane needed to talk to someone about his past. “You are a licensed therapist, Jonathan. I’m suggesting you volunteer your time to help these students. It would be good for you to practice outside of your research.”

Crane squinted at her owlishly for a moment, then quite abruptly, he snorted out a laugh.

“I don’t think so,” he said smugly. “Children with eating disorders don’t interest me.”

“Most of them are there for depression or anxiety, or trauma they need to work through,” Joan pointed out, feeling a swell of pity for him. “Psychology isn’t just research and test subjects. We’re here to help people too.”

“Mm,” he sneered, disagreeing but apparently not feeling the need to make his case. He wasn’t holding himself back because he held an unpopular opinion - Joan had heard plenty of complaints about his outright disdain for patient welfare. But this time it seemed he didn’t feel it was an argument worth having. An argument that was beneath him as he found so many things to be. 

“How are you finding the lectures?” Joan asked hesitantly, shouldering her bag as she followed him out of her office. 

“Most of them are morons,” he shot her a withering look that could have stripped paint off the wall. “I’ll also be lobbying the dean to remove the teaching requirement for students in their fourth year,” he informed Joan crisply. “Some of us have more important work to be doing.”

Then he turned on his heel and stomped down the hallway without a word of farewell. 

Joan sighed, feeling another surge of pity for Jonathan Crane as she locked her office door and headed in the opposite direction. 

Gotham University’s campus was covered in snow, a treat for students returning from their Christmas breaks. Joan smiled at colleagues and a few students she knew or recognized as she walked toward the student union building, struggling with the question of how she might help Jonathan Crane.

The student union was a modern building painted yellow and red, and it hadn’t aged well since it was constructed in the late seventies. Joan took the lift to the third floor, where she’d been given a small office to assess the students assigned to her. Four or five other members of staff from the psychology department volunteered their free time there too, with patients dolled out to them in a kind of raffle. Students wanting therapy would be added to a waitlist and scheduled with whoever was available whenever they were available. It wasn’t ideal but it was better than nothing. 

“Hi, Dr Leland,” the volunteer behind a receptionist’s desk greeted Joan brightly, handing her a file. 

“Hi Sarah,” Joan smiled back at her. “How is everything?”

“It’s pretty dead,” Sarah observed affably. “I guess the kids are feeling pretty good after the break. No finals to stress them out.”

“Sure,” Joan agreed politely, inwardly thinking that many of these young people would likely be in need of more therapy after the holidays, not less. “Who am I seeing today?” she opened the file, her eyes widening when she found a police report inside. 

“Ah, she’s kind of a special case,” Sarah sighed. “Her boyfriend was Guy Kopski, you know, the boy who committed suicide before the holidays?” She cringed, which made Joan frown, deeming a cringe to be a particularly inappropriate response from someone working closely with students requiring support and compassion. “Anyway, the financial aid office insisted she either take time off from school or get some form of therapy. She’s waiting in your office.”

“The FA office is involved? That seems heavy-handed,” Joan mused, scanning the police report before she turned the page. “Oh,” she nodded, understanding. 

Harleen Quinzel was on a full-ride scholarship, and she was an orphan. The financial aid office wanted to make sure their investment paid off. 

Sad stories were something you got used to working in psychology. It was important to empathize with your patients, and that never got easier or less painful, but the longer you did the job, the more you accepted those stories as part of life. Joan would never feel numb toward the people she helped, but their stories did become less shocking to her. Including Guy Kopski’s violent suicide.

To jump off a building, one truly had to want to die.  

Joan knocked on her office door before pushing it open, her lips curving into a patient smile, which came naturally to her after years and years of listening to sad stories. 

“Harleen?” she asked the girl waiting for her, keeping her voice soft. 

Harleen Quinzel sat at one end of a pale green corduroy couch, looking out the window. She had long, honey blonde hair that fell in soft, messy waves around her shoulders, and she wore the typical GU-girl winter uniform of leggings, a collegiate sweatshirt, and snow boots. She turned her head when Joan said her name, her sober expression inspiring an almost painful pang of sympathy in Joan. Harleen looked strained and pale, her blue eyes overly-large like she’d lost a lot of weight quickly, with bruise-like smudges beneath. It had been about three weeks since Guy Kopski’s suicide, and Joan realized that Harleen probably hadn’t had anyone to talk to about how she was feeling in that span of time. 

In fact, if she had no family to speak of, she would have spent most of that time alone in Gotham while her friends went back to their family’s homes.

“Dr Leland,” Harleen greeted Joan warily. 

Joan lowered herself onto the other end of the couch; she should have taken the chair, but Harleen was so… alone, it seemed more natural to sit beside her. To be closer to her.

“I’ve been filled in about Guy and the financial aid office,” Joan explained kindly while Harleen nodded. “This may be a very general way to open, but would you like to tell me how you’re feeling today?”

Harleen took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly, her eyes on one of the many ferns populating the room. 

“Numb,” she said eventually, not looking away from the fern. “Like it didn’t happen.”

 “Acceptance is the final stage of grief,” Joan replied kindly. “It’s only been three weeks. It makes sense that you haven’t fully processed Guy's death.”

“No,” Harleen caught Joan’s eye. Her eyes were glacial, like an icy arctic sea. “I’ve accepted that he’s gone,” she said softly. “I just don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about it.”

“There isn’t one way you should feel about it,” Joan said patiently. “It’s not about what you decide you should feel - you’ll feel whatever you feel. That’s one of the things we’re here to talk about so you can understand and cope with those feelings.”

“I know that. I meant I don’t know what I’m feeling, or if I’m even feeling anything at all,” Harleen explained, her gaze shifting back to the fern. She blinked at it a few times, her face placid as she searched her feelings, trying to understand them. “It’s like it didn’t happen to me, but someone else…” she murmured to herself.

Joan was about to jump in, not wanting to push her too hard in the first five minutes when Harleen spoke up again. 

“Everyone knows green is a soothing color,” she observed, running her hand over the corduroy couch cushion. “Doesn’t it seem a little patronizing to use it so liberally?”

“I’m not sure everyone knows that,” Joan offered her a wry smile. “You’re a psych major, aren’t you?”

“You’re the head of the psychology department, aren’t you?” Harleen countered tartly, imitating Joan’s tone perfectly. Then she shifted back into moroseness, almost more intensely than she had been before, and she took a deep breath like she was bracing herself. 

Joan felt a startling thread of dread roll through her gut - some sixth sense waving a flag that there was something wrong with this young woman. The way she flipped on a dime, from depressed to… whatever that was, and back again. It made Joan wonder if there wasn’t something ingenuine about her grief.

But, Joan reminded herself, there was nothing wrong with anyone. No matter what their pathology, no matter what their circumstances. There was a diagnosis to contend with, but no human being could be wrong. 

Aside from, perhaps, some of the most vicious psychopaths.

What made a person human if not empathy? 

“I’m hoping to get into the PhD program after I graduate,” Harleen said, giving Joan a hopeful smile that looked forced. 

“That’s wonderful,” Joan beamed at her, shrugging off her unease. “There’s pretty stiff competition, but you’ve certainly got the grades for it. What are you interested in?”

Harleen licked her lips, eyeing the fern thoughtfully as she considered Joan’s question. Or, perhaps she was considering how to answer Joan’s question. The longer the silence stretched on, the more Joan came to feel she was trying to craft an answer for Joan’s sake, rather than telling the truth. But that was ludicrous, there was nothing she could say that Joan would judge her for. 

Then Harleen looked at Joan, and there was a faint gleam in her eyes, something dark that sent an uneasy shiver rolling over Joan’s shoulders. 

“Psychopaths,” Harleen announced grimly, the word seeming to hang in the air between them. “I want to understand the way they feel,” she added, sounding more subdued.  

Joan raised her eyebrows. Psychopaths were frequent favorites for the younger students, no doubt because they were one of the more exciting pathologies. Not to mention the many movies featuring glamorized versions of them - Hannibal Lector, Patrick Batement, Frank Booth, and nearly every other villain created by Hollywood. 

But there was something… certain about Harleen's words. 

Something personal. 

“Psychopaths don’t feel very much,” Joan pointed out cautiously, watching Harleen turn her attention to the corduroy couch, stroking the ribbed fabric slowly. “They have almost zero emotional intelligence. Everything they do is driven by impulse, trying to feed the pleasure center of their brain for immediate gratification.”

“Really?” Harleen frowned as she looked up at Joan. “All of them?”

“Generally speaking,” Joan said hesitantly, holding Harleen’s gaze, which was intense and made her feel somehow… exposed. 

Harleen sighed and looked down at the pale green couch cushion.

“I wonder if psychopaths find green soothing,” she mused, sounding genuinely curious.

That brought a smile to Joan’s lips. Curiosity was one of her most prized qualities in a student.

After that first meeting, Joan met Harleen every other week for the rest of the semester, getting to know her sad story and her curious mind. There was something about her that made Joan feel protective of her, almost like she owed it to Harleen to give her what she needed to succeed. 

There was also something about Harleen that reminded Joan of Jonathan Crane. Something a shade too ambitious, something a fraction too disinterested in the people around her. They both had sad stories, but while Jonathan’s seemed to drag him down, Harleen seemed to exist separately from hers, as if none of it had really happened to her.

Joan was dismayed but not surprised when the world found out what Jonathan Crane turned Arkham Asylum into. His fear toxin, torturing his patients, working with the mob, the Scarecrow moniker, all of it seemed like an inevitable conclusion.  

But she could have never predicted how Harleen’s story panned out. 

Joan had always worried about the way Harleen monitored herself in front of other people. Over the years that followed their first meeting, she could never understand why her most talented student felt the need to hide her thoughts and feelings, and there was always something decidedly… clenched about how she carried herself. As if there was a weight on her shoulders she couldn’t shake off, something constantly holding her back from being herself, something she was constantly fighting against. 

It wasn’t until the world was introduced to Harley Quinn that Joan understood what that something was.

And all it had taken was the Joker to unlock it.

A/N: Again, just a little writing exercise with some throwbacks to the Harlequin, but nothing revolutionary or spoilery.

Now time to write what I’m supposed to be writing...

[frankieshq]

[ itzy vc ] hey, hey, hey, it’s your girl summer coming at you with her twenty years of mediocre existence to present miss FRANKIE KWON. meet my self-conscious, awkward babie who uses sarcasm as a defense mechanism. you can find info about her under the cut !! i might have written a long ass bio that i didn’t bother to finish on a google docs but will be linking that one soon.

BACKGROUND

[tl;dr: young girl grows up in a matriarchal household that is heavy with regret and blame. dad comes and makes her childhood a bit happier, only to leave and break her heart because he’s an asshole. grows up thinking her smarts is gonna save her, but it’s actually her humor that does]

to truly understand frankie kwon, one must go way back--back to when her grandparents first immigrated to michigan. landing in detroit, sunhwa kwon and her husband didn’t have it easy. she had a two-year-old hanging by her neck and a brilliant but unambitious husband. she had to struggle with odd jobs for years while taking care of her family and helping her husband learn english, so he can use his engineering degree in america. she became a severe woman, never softened by affection but hardened by grit and hard work. eventually, the her husband was able to land a stable job and the family relocated to chelsea. 

sunhwa made sure to train and hone her daughter jina’s natural intellect, but her methods were severe and lacking in affection. jina looked for the affection she didn’t find at home elsewhere. she fell in love with the first boy that called her beautiful, and at eighteen, gave birth to francesca areum kwon. 

and so it goes that frankie was born in a household  heavy with guilt, blame, and regret. there was love there somewhere, but it was constantly shadowed by feelings that existed way before she did. the emotional scars her mother and grandmother inflicted on each other were too deep-seated that their love for each other hid behind a cover of blame and snark. at a young age, frankie learned how to read a room, learned what to say or do so as to not aggravate the precarious balance of their household. she learned how to figure out whether her mother was too tired from work or whether her grandmother was in a snappy mood. it was a tightrope dance she learned how to perfect, growing up faster than she should have. 

all her grandmother’s lost hope for her mother transferred to frankie, and her grandma supervised her education with the same vigor. although, this time, she was a tad bit more affectionate to her granddaughter (i mean all grandmas can’t resist their grandchildren, let’s be real). her mom wanted to protest, but aside from the guilt, she was always busy. being a single mom was hard enough, but she also had to take care of her aging mother.

frankie is a shy kid by nature, but her household just intensified this predisposition. she had few friends because she was scared about approaching kids first. she spends her time watching cartoons, studying, and writing in her journal.

enter: frankie’s dad, andrew grant. he left chelsea and his pregnant ex-gf bc he’s an asshole. but he comes back nine years later because he failed at whatever version of the american dream he was following at that time.

he taught frankie to have fun !! she’d spend afternoons at his car shop bantering with him and telling jokes. eventually, she relayed these jokes to people at school and was shocked when people actually laughed. she became more well-liked, developed a sense humor, and had more friends. the ages 9-12 were probably her happiest. 

at 12 years old, she got invited to a middle school sleepover for the weekend. but she had a big test on monday, and her grandma doesn’t allow her to go to stuff if she has tests the next schoolday. with the help of her mom, she was able to go to it by pretending it was a school event. had so much fun and forgot to study. she didn’t get a grade high enough for her grandmother to be happy, though. once her grandma found out what she did and her mom’s involvement, she was livid !! that was the biggest fight her grandma and mom got into and frankie was grounded for a month. the worst part was, throughout the fight, frankie felt like she was a burden to the two women she loved the most. she felt like she was the reason her mother was always tired, constantly nagged on by her grandmother about wasted potential.

to make matters worst, her dad left town again. fell in love with some other venture. he told her he would come back but never did. 

since that day, frankie dedicated herself full force to her studies. she felt like she needed to make it up to her mom and grandma for all their sacrifices. she built a wall around herself because it’s easier that way. she had few friends, but it was better for her.

her grandmother died during her senior year of high school. she loved her grandma, but she felt as if a weight lifted from her chest. her mom encouraged her to go to school as far as she liked. 

she got a scholarship to columbia and studied statistics like the big nerd that she is !!

she met roman and lucy here, finally felt that she had friends that she felt she can really open to. 

after college, she worked for a firm. she finally felt secure, like she payed some sort of unsaid debt to her grandma but she wasn’t happy, folks :(((

she first did stand-up as a dare on an open mic and she was so shocked that people laughed. she was tipsy then, and kept made self-deprecating jokes of her childhood trauma. love that for her.

the more stand-up she did, though, the more nervous she got because she gets really worried if she’s doing things right. instead of improving, she got worse because her nerves always get to her. don’t get me wrong the jokes are great, it’s just that her execution doesn’t always land.

comedy was just a vERY beloved side hobby for her until a small production company based on youtube offered her a writer position. she would get to  write their skits and stuff, but she it payed wAY less than her present job. she was like fuck it, and took the offer. she wanted to make people laugh.

that leads us to here, a girl who is still unsure whether leaving a secure job was the way to go, secretly hoping to be a famous comedian.

PERSONALITY

frankie is like a spring roll you guys. outside, she masks her awkwardness and shyness with some cRunCHy self-deprecating jokes and sarcasm. so, she has an intimidating exterior because she tries to be tougher than she actually is. inside, she’s just a soft and sad girl. she doesn’t talk much if she isn’t comfortable with you, but once she is, she talks a loT. but it does take a while for her to warm up to people. can be extremely judgmental (a trait inherited from her grandma), but her mind can be changed. isn’t stubborn, though, and is actually a doormat. the type of person to say something and obsess over it because she’s scared that it might have offended someone. 

HEADCANONS

lots of repressed femininity because there was a lot of internal misogyny in her household growing up !! it was only until college with the help of lucy, that she was able to access her girlier side. 

is a lesbian, but has a lot of internal homophobia as well. her grandma was a very traditional woman, so frankie feels very guilty about liking girls, and is very hesitant about going on dates and actively looking for relationships even though she’s really lonely.

likes writing a lot !! used to keep journals since she was 8 because it honestly made her feel less lonely growing up. 

nOBODY CALL HER FRANCESCA. she hates that name, but likes her second name a lot. only her grandma called her areum tho.

spends a lot of time at  mon’s deli, and mon could also be counted as her bff. she and the old man gossip and chitchat about the bennington street residents for hours. is this also because she is in dire need of a father figure?? maybe, yes, absolutely

used to have really low alcohol tolerance, but sort of grew out of it?? if she doesnt drink for a month or two tho, her tolerance goes back to zero like dont ask me, i dont make the rules

still a big fan of cartoons and kid humor !! loves amazing world of gumball and steven universe

makes her own kimchi because her grandma and mom have a special family recipe, will happily share if she likes you

i imagine the level of closeness she has in the group varies, like she’s closer to some people than others and acts differently around them

would really like to do stand-up again but still has stage fright

want her to either end up working on something as big as snl or writing movies or overcoming her stage fright and becoming a successful stand-up comedienne !!

[diguerra-moved]

𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑨𝑪𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑺𝑯𝑬𝑬𝑻 

repost, don’t reblog !

BASICS !

full name. Alleria Windrunner nicknames.  Those closest to her used to call her Lady Sun, though recently Alleria will refuse the nickname. height. 5′9 / 175cm age. About 300 Azeroth years  zodiac. Aquarius. languages. Common, Thalassian and Draenei are the ones she’s fluent in. Other than that, she may be able to pick up a couple words in other languages, but not more than that.

PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS.

hair colour. Golden. eye colour. Blue. skin tone.  Fair. body type. Lithe and well defined, strong if not apparently muscular. dominant hand. Right. posture. Confident even when it doesn’t really reflect her feelings, and almost always straight and attentive.  tattoos. She has a blue tattoo on her face, crossing her left eye, and similar tattoos throughout her left arm. most noticeable features. Her tattoos are pretty remarkable, and people often mention her hair (even though 90% of the elves are blonde lol). Alleria has scars but most are not really visible. I guess ears and eyebrows, if you’re unfamiliar with elves.

CHILDHOOD.

place of birth.  Quel’thalas, in Windrunner Spire. hometown.  Silvermoon/Windrunner village. birth weight / height.  -- first words. Ann’da bc she loves her dad more siblings.  Sylvanas (I particularly headcanon them as having been close when they were younger, but also the kind of siblings who’d jokingly provoke each other all the time until it became a real fight; and then later they’d be okay again because they loved each other); Vereesa (while I think all of the Windrunners were close, I tend to see Alleria being closer to Sylvanas than to Vereesa before, if only because she’d be more protective towards Vereesa bc Vereesa is the baby sister); Lirath (her brother was her favorite sibling and Alleria would die for him okay Lirath never did anything wrong in his life ever in her eyes) parents. Lireesa & Verath parental involvement. She was close to both of her parents, but her relationship was easier with her father. Alleria can be very confrontational, and Lireesa was both her mother and her General, and the lines between family and work were probably blurry at times. Lots of the expectations she felt she had to meet came from her mother, too, since she was the eldest and the one who was supposed to become Ranger General next, so there was tension at times in spite of them loving each other. In spite of her liking her father better and both of her parents being strong presences in her life, I feel like ultimately her mother was the one more involved with her life in general.

ADULT LIFE

occupation.  Previously Ranger Captain of Quel’thalas, now leader of the Ren’dorei. current residence. Stormwind (though she spends much of her time in Boralus as of BFA). close friends. Khadgar, Kurdran, Danath, Verana (in the past; maybe if she’s still alive lol), Halduron (they were friends in the past, you can pry this headcanon from my cold dead hands) I haven’t decided how close she was to Lor’themar before so maybe him too but idk, Lothraxion (not as close anymore) relationship status. ‘Married’ to Turalyon. While there was no ceremony, they’ve spent way too long together to not be considered married aidnfajkdfn  financial status.  The Windrunners were an old noble family, so she had a very comfortable life financially speaking. She’s not nearly as wealthy anymore, but Alleria has been through enough that she really doesn’t care as long as there’s enough to survive, and she’s in a comfortable situation as it is. driver’s license. -- criminal record. Hm, unless you’re a Naaru I think she’s clean? Possibly? 

SEX & ROMANCE.

sexual orientation.  Bisexual. romantic orientation. Biromantic. preferred emotional role. submissive | dominant | switch  |  unsure preferred sexual role.  submissive |  dominant  |  switch |  sex repulsed libido. Normal I guess A lot of sexual frustration too, with the current state of her marriage and also with how long they haven’t been able to touch each other bc void/light love language. She’s very physical. Alleria often finds it easier to demonstrate her feelings with touch than with words, from actual hugs and etc to tiny things like placing someone’s hair behind their ears, touching their shoulder in a reassuring manner, holding hands and etc. Alleria feels more at ease when she has physical contact with her partner, even if they’re just standing close enough to touch. If she manages to actually open up and speak of feelings, consider yourself blessed because evidently she cares for you a lot. relationship tendencies. Alleria doesn’t open up to people easily. Even when she demonstrates interest and begins a relationship, it tends to be slow until it will reach a point she feels comfortable enough to lay her armor down and be soft and show her vulnerabilities. I think this is always true to some extent, though less so in her youth and more so in recent years. Romantic or not, she’s very loyal to people she loves, but she’ll never set aside her own wants and thoughts for someone else, no matter how much she may love them. Once she’s close to someone though, she’s a lot more willing to be soft and carefree and playful.

MISCELLANEOUS.

character’s theme song. look idk how to pick songs I’m always stuck on those, but her hearthstone theme is okay I guess yes I’ll answer that bc I don’t know how to choose music sorry hobbies to pass the time. She loves music and she was fond of dancing also. Other than that, Alleria likes to practice her bow and arrow skills just for fun almost as much as she likes making sure her bow looks pristine (with Thas’Dorah specifically, she’d waste hours tending to her bow). She’s very fond of exploring forests and finding random quiet places in them to do things such as reading. mental illnesses. PTSD, prone to depression (deeply depressed after the second war) physical illnesses. -- left or right brained . Idk possibly left fears. She greatly fears losing Arator; she feared losing her family (loved ones in general bc friends too), specially after Lirath died, but then she returned to Azeroth and well, she kinda lost them already. She fears being imprisoned again, because freedom has always been a very big deal to her, but her time imprisoned by Xe’Ra caused some actual trauma that won’t be going anywhere anytime soon with how she just pretends everything is fine. She’s terrified she won’t always be strong enough to resist the whispers of the Void --- yes, she’s in control now, but it isn’t easy and she’s afraid control may possibly slip away in the future. She’s afraid of being alone, but sometimes she feels she already is, and at the same time she’s afraid of letting people in and losing them. self confidence level. Alleria is confident, usually. Not overly so, but enough that you can actually see that she’s sure of herself. vulnerabilities. Alleria tends to put on a brave face and act like she’s strong enough to do anything but beneath all of it she’s actually quite sensitive where feelings are concerned, and she puts a lot of pressure upon herself, because of all that was expected to her as the eldest Windrunner, and all people expect of her now, since she became this sort of mythic figure following the expedition to Draenor. You can fight her all day, torture her for information, physically hurt her in any way and she’ll endure it easily; but when feelings are concerned, Alleria is very sensitive and easy to hurt --- and the more she loves and opens up to someone, the more they are able to hurt her on that sense, honestly.

tagged by: @thuashdore thank you! tagging: @lightsblade @sunnrunnerrs @lady-shadestrider @guerissant​ @quelbound @agirlofwinterfell @lady-proudmoore @wclfcrown @ladywindrunner and whoever else wants to

[chalabrun]

dreams of altissia II

Word Count: 2,723 Pairing: Noctluna Rating: M Warnings: Some CSA mentions, some sexual scenes Summary: Based on @v0a‘s Noctluna art series of the same name, Luna has been through hell and back in the journey to become Oracle, especially following the invasion of Insomnia. With Noctis and Lunafreya finally in Altissia together, after twelve years they break down old barriers and finally meet the real people letters and notebooks alone couldn't bear the weight of. 

( READ ON AO3 ) 

She couldn’t remember a morning so peaceful, where a dreamless sleep had yielded an unerring sense of peace. When azure eyes fluttered open, it became clear. Laying on her side, she rolled over and found Noctis shifting sleepily as his nose had been buried in her back, bicep utilized briefly as a sort of pillow that was obviously disturbed when she rolled over. Still such a deep sleeper, Luna observed fondly as she ghosted a caress along his cheekbone that caused his face to twitch some, but he was otherwise undisturbed.

 Wistfully, and maybe with brief envy, she wondered what life Noctis had lived that allowed him to sleep with such an unfettered deepness. She knew better than to think Noctis’ life had been wholly without obstacles, with traumas of his own, but an undisturbed sleep was foreign to her. Lunafreya remembered those nightmarish early nights when Ravus was her only defense against lecherous and domineering men who saw them as spoils of war.

Several times had Ravus given himself up like that, in her place. So her dignity would be intact while Luna spent the whole night quaking in terror for what they did to her brother.

They were prisoners of war. Maybe still so. Peace hadn’t come until later at night and she was so, so used to sleeping with a razor blade beneath her pillow. Something to defend herself, and there had been many times when Ravus or Gentiana couldn’t be there that she’d been forced to use it, even if she never killed.

 No, merely impressed upon these malevolent men that the Oracle was not a girl to be trifled with.

 It was only much later that Lunafreya was allowed to live in Fenestala again, where the people rallied around her and guarded her with their lives. That didn’t always make her sleep any easier, however.

 Such defensiveness had been learned, and never left her.

 Though, that bitterness ebbed away when she saw stormy blue eyes blink over at her, a fondness pooling like honey in her breast and made such thoughts impossible to hold on to. In these long years, she never blamed him. Not when it was up to them to save the world.

 “Mornin’ Luna,” Noctis greeted, voice thick with sleep, but his smile was so soft, so seraphic she thought she might melt beneath the tenderness of his gaze. A tenderness she wondered she deserved after the fleeting bitterness of her thoughts, her own unconsciously spanning as she swiped an errant bit of bangs from Noctis’ face. Even as a child, Noctis had always been so lovely and compassionate, willing to do anything to make not only her happy, but the world. Even if Regis had mistakenly sheltered him from his role as prince, there was no one more princely than him.

 “Good morning, Noctis. Did you sleep well?” she broached, feeling his arm remove from being a pillow for her neck than angling himself so he might pull her in closer. It was only then that she blushed at their nakedness, feeling something a little too firm press into her thigh. A sharp flush suffused and she wouldn’t get her answer straight away.

 She mewled softly when he swept her underneath him, back arching and nails clawing into his shoulder blades as she embraced him with her arms and legs, already wet with want and cloying when he kissed her, unrefined but still passionate. Their bodies were hot and warm, Luna never realizing how sorely she wanted a man on her, inside of her, until she and Noctis had slept together the way they did, yielding themselves soft and vulnerable.

 It wasn’t meant to be as painstakingly deliberate as last night’s had been; just some quick shag to relax them both. She rolled underneath him as Noctis thrust into her, her body prepared compared to last night’s virgin experience. For Luna was still a woman, and she still desired, still wanted to feel cherished by more than just family, but by a man who loved her and she, him. That didn’t absolve the love, the pulsating need as she felt his hips gyrate inside of her, he a man and she a woman who was allowed to ache with need and want and not feel shame for it.

 They climaxed long moments later, Luna’s arched back collapsed into the sheets as she swore she could hear Noctis fall asleep again into the pillow, but not before Luna jostled him awake. “Come now, you don’t intend to make my morning like this, do you?”

 Noctis couldn’t help but smile shyly at her, lifting himself up a bit. “Sorry, ‘s just—you’re so warm, and all.” He rested his chin on her sternum, that boyish smile making her melt again. In their afterglow, maybe it wasn’t so untrue.

 “Am I now, Noctis? I wasn’t aware Lucian princes preferred using oracles as pillows. Perhaps I ought to keep that in mind,” Luna said with a playful roll of her eyes, manfully propping herself up and rolling him off so they might finally proceed with their morning. Taking him by the hand and tugging the sleepy man by his hand, she led them into the shower where they sensually kissed each other as the enormous Jacuzzi, in-laid bath filled with water from its gilt faucet. Lovely in its shade of marble white, part of her was touched Camelia had allowed them such stately living quarters.

 The sunlight bleached through the translucent white curtains that adorned the few opaque windows within the bathroom, the pair of them concentrating wholly on bathing themselves, cleansing each other of the acts from the night before.

 It shouldn’t feel like sin, Luna reminded herself as she massaged her fingers along Noctis’ scalp, the younger man drowsily bowed forth from the deeply relaxing ministrations. Even if Luna herself couldn’t feel so at ease. This…it was new. Intimacy. Feeling each other skin to skin and not having to feel as though she deserved to be damned or judged for the most natural thing there was: a bond between people.

 People who loved each other?

 The sudden mental question caused Luna to stop, hands sudsy and frozen that Noctis didn’t notice immediately. Her brows puckered together: did they love each other? A guilty conflict brewed in her chest, if because it hadn’t felt that way. Because of the age difference between them, it wouldn’t have been right to see him as a romantic interest. In fact, she hadn’t. But, here and now, with the water the only thing that divided their bodies, realization trickled slowly.

 It had been maybe a year and a half ago after the prince’s birthday. Sometime in the Fall. The letters they were sending each other didn’t sound so friendly, as mischievous. What were innocent prods to her changing appearance—how she wore her hair up now, the copious amounts of gowns—weren’t those of just a boyish, platonic curiosity. Even if they didn’t pinpoint one another, some of those conversations had spanned pages and pages. About the future, what they thought ruling their kingdoms would be like. Assigning themselves spouses with grey faces and placated smiles and wondering what being wed to them would entail.

 It was then she realized, she couldn’t see Noctis with any other queen. Ruling alone, and…her, somewhere close by. Not as his queen, but as the Oracle she was supposed to be.

 …Oh. She didn’t like the thought of that very much, did she?

 “Luna?” The blonde snapped from her reverie when Noctis had turned around, looking fairly comical with suds still making his hair clump in spiky tufts where her hands had been scrubbing. She smiled kindly at him.

 “I’m sorry, Noctis. I was simply…thinking,” she explained vaguely, her expression kind but enigmatic. Surely he could see that. Noctis was no fool, after all. “Regardless, we shouldn’t linger too long here. We still have the memorial ceremony to attend.”

 “Yeah, right. Almost forgot.” Noctis was quiet for a long moment before adding, “…Can I talk to you about something?”

 “Yes, Noctis, of course,” Luna said, leaning attentively as Noctis moved to sit adjacent to her.

 “What happened with you and Nyx… Did you see it? When he passed, I mean,” Noctis broached, expression seeming to falter. “He and I were tight. The other guys don’t know how to warp, right? Well, he taught me everything I know in that regard. He was like an older brother to me, and…I know he was in the city. He told me when he drove me to my apartment few nights before the invasion happened.”

 Lunafreya grew contemplatively quiet after Noctis had spoken. In their letters, Noctis had mentioned Nyx in this capacity. Of how they’d often go with the other Glaives to the immigrant district to hang out after training at Takka’s. She just hadn’t known how close. But in that day and night, she understood why. “Only moments before. He was standing on one of the shoulders of the Lucii. The Mystic. You know which one that is, right, Noctis?”

 Noctis nodded gravely. “…Yeah, I do. That was Somnus, my ancestor. The guy who started it all.”

 It was bitter, the way the tears came. They weren’t dramatically sobbed, or anything like that. But, Luna didn’t let them fall in vain. It wasn’t just Regis and Nyx he mourned, but that of his city, his people who had fallen. The Glaives who had betrayed them and the people who had died regardless. Luna embraced him quietly, fingers worked soothingly into his hair as Noctis sobbed into her shoulder, unhindered around her.

 The memorial service would be soon, but it could wait a few moments longer, couldn’t it?

 *

About an hour later did they finish getting ready and dining on a quick, continental breakfast she was certain Noctis was glad to have. Ignis always did sound like an exemplary cook, but nothing quite beat breakfast in bed with someone you loved.

 Lunafreya mulled that thought over, a quiet blush summoned and deciding that, yes, she did love him. She wanted to.

 Noctis had sent Ignis a lengthy text and apology, but a picture with Luna quelled any fears and the others were largely okay with it. By an indignant blush and the rattling of his notifications, he was certain they were more than okay with it. Positively zealous as only a man’s brothers could be.

 Something good in the wake of so much travesty.

 They arrived minutes later in a motorcade of sorts taken instead by gondola, a few policemen on jet skis flanking them as the rare sort with a secure cabin reserved for nobility and other high-ranking officials meant they were well within their right to sojourn this way. Noctis, smartly clad in a suit, contrasted well with Lunafreya’s white gown. It seemed appropriate for mourning, but above all, she secretly relished in how they would look together.

 She was allowed to admire her fiancé, wasn’t she?

 Lunafreya and Noctis disembarked with she on his arm, people murmuring among themselves as they caught a glimpse of a King of Lucis and the Oracle finally together as the empire had promised. Except, it wasn’t in the way they’d hoped to see them together. The wedding, and all that.

 The sky above was disarmingly clear and sunny, but even she could see the gathering storm clouds that would inevitably gather. Even more so, the darkness that was beginning to encroach on the world, as if they were the last bastion between it. For wasn’t that the truth?

 Throngs of people gathered before the Cathedral of the Tidemother in expectant wait, Noctis and Luna heading towards the podium where Lunafreya, and possibly Noctis, would be speaking. There was a pall of expectancy and quiet murmuring hung over them, fraught with gossip. Some was less than decorous, but they were too far to catch anything intelligible. The crowds grew quiet as she stepped up to it, chin raised and noble.

 “Today we are gathered here because we suffered immense losses from the war. A war not of our choosing between the powers of Lucis and Niflheim. However, as we all know, that war has come to an end. Hexatheon above, we have been blessed with a peace we must keep, we must maintain—especially in the time of darkness to come.” Noctis stepped forth and took her hand, she smiling at him and he at her.

 “But, we are not here to luxuriate in misery. No, there are those we have lost from all sides. From Lucis, Tenebrae, Accordo, and Niflheim, not only from the war. Countless lives we would do well to remember.” Luna hung her head, raising her hands and asking for supplication from the people amassed. “Please, bow your heads and meditate upon those you have lost. And together, we pray.”

 Though she was of the people, her prayers weren’t simply for them. Luna prayed for her mother, for her father, for King Regis and Nyx Ulric that would join Noctis’ in heaven. The Astral Plane was home to them, she knew. And, grimmer still, they would both be joining them soon.

 But, as the gods might, she could only hope and pray that they might be able to be happy before that time came. Even if only for a little while.

 *

Hours later, just as evening was beginning to fall dusky and pink upon the waters of Altissia, they were on the Altar of the Tidemother. Not to summon, but it was the hour of the remembrance service that would come to its conclusion. Altissians were gathered on water taxis, watercraft, gondola, and even as small as jet skis. Some had even kayaked or rowed to where they were, but the sea of faces had something in common: as they bobbed on the water, each held a floating paper lantern. One for each person one was praying for.

 At the farthest end of the altar, opposite the raised portion where she’d be standing in a few days’ time, the stair sunk into the water before it disappeared. A raised platform beneath the water meant there was space to stand without worry of drowning, which was where she and Noctis were. Their feet just touching the water, they held three paper lanterns between them: one for Sylva, one for Regis, and the last for Nyx Ulric. The man who had been her selfless friend for a night and had been Noctis’ bother for as long as the prince could remember.

 Slowly, she and Noctis descended into the water together, the water filling beneath and around her dress in an unusual but welcome sensation. Though the gown would inevitably end up ruined, she didn’t care. Indeed, she didn’t. Not when they were remembering those who had died selflessly, who had sacrificed so much for their sakes. Noctis stood steadfast by her side, the quiet glow of the candles illuminating their faces secretively, as though they were prepared to tell one another a story.

 Maybe they were. Maybe it was coming.

 Carefully, once they were submerged to the waist, she and Noctis lowered their lanterns gradually into the water and ensured they were steady before letting the current take them away. Then, almost in unison did those on the waters do the same, a sea of light joining theirs as the currents took the lanterns out to sea that bobbed languidly upon the water.

 Noctis circled his arm around Luna’s shoulders and brought her close to his side, trying and failing to hide the tears bubbling within her eyes. “I’m sorry, Noctis,” Luna whispered with a quivering voice, shoulders shaking on a sob, “that I couldn’t save them. King Regis or Nyx Ulric.”

 “Hey, Luna—that wasn’t your fault,” Noctis murmured as he took Luna in his arms, holding her while she wept. “They died protecting what mattered. Please, don’t blame yourself.” By the thickness in his voice, she could tell that he was bare motions away from breaking down himself. “They’re watching over us now. They’re gonna make sure everything’s alright, in the end.”

 Luna nodded blearily and buried herself against Noctis, warmed by him, comforted and protected.

 If only they could remain like this for eternity.

[juniperallura]

Pacific Rim AU pt. 1

Word spread quickly around the Shatterdome: her father had returned from the Coastal Wall- successfully. An anticipatory buzz swept through the compound as everyone prepared for the new arrival. The Jaeger program was gearing up once again.

Things were changing quickly, including Allura. She threw shirt after shirt across the room, digging like a madwoman until she found what she was looking for. A record two minutes later she was flattening the lapels of her coat, grabbing an umbrella and pausing for a quick survey in the mirror. Black on black on black on black. Hair tied neatly back. 

Professional? Yes. Dramatic? Sure, but who could blame her? It wasn’t every day she met an internationally renowned Jaeger pilot and girlhood crush for the first time in years. With one last glance and a determined huff, she grabbed her father’s itinerary and marched out, the door slamming shut behind her.

| j | a | e | g | e | r |

The Shatterdome slowly came into focus in the driving rain. The words, Alfor’s words, that had followed him from the Wall echoed in his ears once again: 

     “Where would you rather die? Here, or in a Jaeger?”

He had made his choice, decided to return to everything and everyone he had abandoned years ago. 

                 He was terrified.

Shiro stepped out of the helicopter, pausing to draw a deep breath of Hong Kong air as the wind and rain whipped his face. The roaring clang of the Shatterdome hit him, igniting something in his chest. It was good to be back.

There was no time, however, for any personal reflection, as Alfor immediately started striding toward a figure across the landing pad. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet-” Alfor called back to him. Some interaction occurred behind his back, before Alfor ducked under an umbrella and handed one to Shiro. “This is Allura, one of our brightest.”

Curtains of black parted and two faces— familiar as five years apart could keep them— were revealed to one another. 

Shiro couldn’t stop his eyebrows from raising, his mouth from parting. Memories flashed in his mind; a shock of white hair in the background of meetings and training sessions, a girlish face and shrill voice reminding him and Matt that it was curfew, a fire that flashed in the eyes of a teenager who wanted nothing more than to fight but lived under the thumb of someone who had already lost too much—  But what confronted his gaze now was a maturely set face (that reflected his own expression) and a steady gaze, tempered with age and now distinguished as the brightest. “Yes, I remember.”

One of the advantages of adulthood, Allura decided, was the ability to overcome embarrassment. No schoolgirl blush colored her cheeks when she met his eyes, as it had in the old days, before a shock of his hair was bleached with stress and trauma, before his strong chin was shaded with stubble, before they met as equals under gathering storm clouds.

       Their stupors were only momentary.

She leaned over to her father, who seemed to be reveling in the satisfaction of having his two proteges under one roof again, and murmured in accented Cantonese, “I imagined him differently.”

Shiro just caught the words during a lull in the wind. He leaned forward, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Better or worse?”

Allura’s expression stuttered for a moment, her eyes flickering to Alfor, before she gave a lighthearted smile. “My apologizes, Mr. Shirogane. It’s nice to see you again.”

“Please- Shiro.” She nodded. “So, I hear you’ve been working on Kerberos?”

Alfor cut in, “-We have a lot to discuss, inside.”

| j | a | e | g | e | r |

Everything was going wrong. 

Shiro wasn’t sure what he expected; that he would waltz into the Shatterdome, have a beautiful reunion with the kid brother he had abandoned in a spiraling mental state, bump right into a new drift partner and have all his deep seated, debilitating fears be wiped clean by…Jaeger magic?

   At least he still knew how to make himself laugh.

Going to the gym helped, if only a little. Something about running until he couldn’t anymore helped ease the tension from the screaming matches he had gotten into with Keith and Alfor that day. Go figure.

But the real cherry on the shit cake that was his life was Allura. (There was probably a more delicate way to put that.) Everything seemed to circle back to her. More specifically, to their sparring match during his trials. He had sensed something between them, in the little time they had to get reacquainted; there was an understanding, and her eyes still had that fire. But he couldn’t think straight, couldn’t sort anything out through the fog that clouded his mind and his heart.

Matt would know what to do. Wasn’t that the whole problem?

A sudden swell of emotion weighed heavily on Shiro’s chest. 

       Fuck.

Allura could hear footsteps approaching from down the hall. Her forehead, still pressed against the door as her breathing slowed, picked up soft vibrations. Her hand wiped away any remaining moisture from her cheeks. 

It had been a long week.

She pressed her eye to the peephole just soon enough to see that shock of white hair disappear into the room across the hall. She jumped when the door slammed shut behind him, its metallic clang echoing through the hall, just as hers had minutes before. Their neighbors must hate them.

It took a few minutes of pacing for her to gather up the courage to put her hand on the door handle. Maybe he didn’t want to be disturbed. Maybe he’d welcome her concern. Maybe he’d be annoyed by her.

Why was she so intimidated by him? If anything, their match during tryouts had proven that they were equals, on the same playing field. She had certainly been precocious enough that day, challenging him in the ring in front of everyone; but then, her father disapproved (to put it lightly,) and Shiro suddenly became distant, losing the spark she had seen in his eyes when their staffs locked. Of course, she could guess the reason behind his behavior— she was standing beside her father when the images of Shiro, mangled on the Alaskan coast, came back to the Shatterdome. 

But still, Allura couldn’t forget about their trial match.

She glanced at the crinkled picture that sat on her desk, where a little girl with white pigtails smiled out at her. In a burst of bravery she was out in the hall, her knuckles rapping against the half rustled portal. 

Shiro opened the door slowly, expecting to find his little brother’s face glaring up at him. Instead, it was Allura, looking concerned and hesitant. His face softened. “Oh- hey, Allura-”

“I’m sorry to bother you, I just-” her eyes flitted around the hallway, as if looking for a sudden escape from a terrible decision. 

Shiro adjusted his posture, stepping back from the doorway and unfolding his arms. “No, no- please, come in.” He could see her eyes scanning the room as she entered, filing away any information she could glean from the personal mementos that sparsely dotted the walls. The bed creaked under his weight as he perched on its edge, waiting for her to speak. 

Finally, she met his gaze: no going back, no escape, now that his eyes were trained on her, brows raised expectantly, door shut behind her. “I think we’ve been avoiding each other all week,” she stated plainly. 

A hollow puff of air escaped him- almost a laugh. He ran a hand through his hair, about to defend himself; but, the words didn’t come. Instead, he gave a dry smile, admitting, “I know.”

“I know I picked your trial co-pilots, and on paper they should’ve worked, but-”

“-But I was under performing?” Shiro smirked.

A smile pulled at the corner of Allura’s mouth. “They were the wrong partners.”

The words sparked something in Shiro, pushing him to say what had been crouching in the back of his consciousness. He leaned forward, animation coming into his face. “But you weren’t. I mean, am I crazy? Or are we drift compatible?” 

Drift compatible. Part of him still squirmed when he used it toward someone other than Matt, but the growing feeling in his gut was telling him he couldn’t be afraid of it anymore. 

Allura met his eyes, pausing before she said, “No, you’re not crazy.” Slow smiles spread over their faces. “But-”

“-But, your father?”

She sighed, moving to sit next to Shiro on the bed. Her hands gripped her knees, sure to keep them from touching his. “I’ve wanted nothing else but to pilot a Jaeger for so long, but he wants to protect me. And I respect him.”

Shiro moved to face her, his brow furrowed. “Does he respect you? You’re the smartest pilot in the program, you had me on the ropes in thirty seconds, and you’re not a little girl anym-”

“I know that,” Allura interrupted sharply, “But there’s more to it. You of all people should know that.”

Shiro’s face fell, but he sucked in a breath, fighting off the fog that had been holding him back all week. “I know the dangers of drifting better than anyone here. I’ve got a lot of issues, there’s no denying that- and yes, I’m scared- but I can handle myself. And I think we would make a great team.” He reached out, not quite brushing her knuckles as he laid a gentle hand on her arm. 

She didn’t like this new feeling, that he was trying to read her every time their eyes met; and worse, that he could read her. “It’s not just you- there’s things you don’t know about me that could…get in the way.”

Shiro drew back, chuckling to himself. “It’s not you, it’s me- not the first time I’ve heard that.”

Allura snorted. “You know what I meant.”

“We both have a lot to sort through,” Shiro’s tone softened, his face becoming serious, “But when all that comes flooding back, in the Jaeger, we won’t be alone. Don’t forget that.” Allura’s crystalline eyes blinked at him, as if she didn’t quite believe what he said; but behind all the doubt, he could still see the sharpness that defined her from the rest of the recruits. She didn’t answer, but Shiro felt a reciprocal pressure on his hand that rested between them.

[galimatios]

t/a rambles 1

back on my bullshit part 1

... should look into the tactics ogre games for novel inspo bc my novel is also a political drama ... UNINTENTIONALLY actually id call it a coming of age story in rhe new adult genre since mc is probably 23-25 i have so many feelings about the novel ugh i love my ocs so much and i put them all om opposing sides for this novel the most complex relationship i have in it i think is alex and his mother or rather prince kreutzer in this au queen elaine and her son prince kreutzer .. god its so fucked up bc kreutzer loves his mother- he was largely isolated as a child and his mother was always so loving and sweet and they were so so close but the prince never knew of the shit his mother did as queen she is a tyrant she must have lost a child once. a princess, i think probably to the king who she may have ... overthrew or usurped maybe but regardless of that shes in power now and because she lost a child she became overly protective of kreu and consolidated her power heard of a plot to infiltrate her kingdom and assassinate the son of the previous tyrant king (?) and she just fucking ruled with an iron fist because she has so little trust in the goodness of people that she thinks the only way to achieve good is to force it and as a result she kills anyone who steps out of line thus making the people resent her deeply but to kreutzer shes his mother his loving and doting mother who does all she can to protect him the novel actually starts um after the queen is assassinated h a its not her story but shes a big part of it even after her death bc a big portion of the theme is like coming to terms with the complexity of individuals no one is all good or all bad and kreu starts out unable to understand this he has a very black and white view of moralitt like his mother at the beginning on his coronation day theres an assassination attempt made on him but he gets whisked away by the court jester after that a coup is staged and rebels take over the country and the prince is forced to hide with a traveling circus that the jester brings him to where every performer... is a fugitive or criminal! and thats where his personal growth really begins bc he learns abt these people and realizes his world view was wrong people are complex people do bad things... for just reasons and vice versa esp Keith who makes a major appearance in the novel his entire bg story takes place outside the novel as well hahaha but its a lot after a raid on his village, hes orphaned along w his little sister who is ill so to make ends meet / buy medicine he does literally every fucking crime under the sun starting off with petty theft and scaling up to murder literally sacrificing every last shred of innocence he has for the sake of his ailing sister who... dies anyway! and im thinking, tbh, its a fantine/cosette/thenardiers type sitch where this quack doctor is basically scamming him except instead of fantine dying cosette does anyway thats where he fucking hits rock bottom he could handle things as long as he had someone to fight for you know he was alright with it bc his sister was there, his saving grace but when she dies hes all alone thats probably when lydia finds him i imagine he would he on the verge of suicide or at the very least dying of self imposed starvation and neglect but honestly probably suicide julie's death on top of the crushinf weight of all the crimes hes committed the innocence he lost, the lives he took its just way too much and hes just a naive kid lydia finds him and takes him back to the circus takes care of him gives him food and water and shelter and slowly tries to reach him slowly teaching him that there is still life to be lived that he is so young, and it is far too soon for him to lay down and die that he should live for his dead family, because that is what they would want to keep their memory alive in his heart and he begins to come around slowly starts doing chores for the troup then he finally sees one of their performances acrobats and the trapeze and the glitz and the glamor its the first time in years where he ... wasnt thinking about his dead sister or his trauma he asks lydia to teach him how to "do that" he says while pointing at the stage and so she does and ever since then hes taken up performing full time as a .. daredevil type act doing outrageously dangerous things for the thrill of it it excites him, the risk he loves to see how close to the edge of death he can walk without falling and it fuels him makes him enjoy being alive again and he's.. happy god by the time you meet keith in the novel he's just this happy go lucky teen with this smugness about him a kind of dangerousness belying a sweet exterior he's all jokes and laughs at this point and you'd never be able to tell what he went thru at first glance or at all really bc honestly, at this point he honest to god is okay lies and dirt - Last Thursday at 6:00 AM he... doesnt need anyone's pity. he doesn't need anything but the feeling of being alive now and one of the major points of the novel is prince kreu's relationship with him... bc at first they really clash and kreu is just... he's a fucking criminal and all of then deserve to hang keith plays this off w jokes at first but kreu keeps being antagonistic bc he just cant believe a criminal like him is getting away without punishment but then one day keith snaps at him knife to the prince's throat dangerous, cat like eyes, the usual smile on his face no where to be found you're right. i'm a thief. a liar. a criminal. a murderer. i'm all those things. but i'll tell you one thing, prince: i'm not worthless. he pulls the knife away and walks off leaving the prince stunned after this lydia talks to kreu explaining that maybe he shouldn't judge keith so quickly hinting that the circumstances of his life were... not ideal when i first found him, he was already half dead. perhaps not physically, but in the eyes. you could see the reaper in them. hhmgmgn i need to think more abt the circumstances around this scene ah keith must have been looking for a good place to die

the music from the circus reminded him of better days, when he played songs with his family. i imagine him.. outside the tent, somewhere obscured and there's music flowing from its interior... he's tired. he sits down against a barrel and he's been starving, exhausted... letting sleep take him away on the songs from the circus back to a time he used to be happy...

lydia fines him and shakes him but his eyes look glassy and he's unresponsive

he's taken poison must have been something from his former days working as an assassin something he saved for himself just in case and that's when lydia takes him in and nurses him back to health she's a water mage w healing capabilities so she's able to do it and i imagine at first keith is hurt, angry why am i still alive? i im fucking myself up in the feels i hate this THIS ISNT EBEN IN THE FUCKINF BOOK IT ALL HAPPENS BEFORE IT KEITJS NOT THE MAIN CHARACTER HERE BUT IM SO FUCKED UP ugh after kreutzer learns a bit abt keiiths origins he actually thinks a lot. and tries to make amends. apologizes to keith who doesnt say anything much he's sitting, eyes away from the prince, fiddling with the knives he uses for his performances

"a raid took my parents away. illness took away my sister."

"i did a lot of things for money. most of it i'm not proud of. but i would have done anything to save her... you know?"

"you've got someone you love too, don't you?" kreutzer thinks of his mother. the surrogate brother who disappeared on him and never returned "i do." "then, you get it." after this they start to really bond almost as siblings.. which is really funny bc kreutzer doesnt need to be protective of keith keith can MORE THAN take care of himself but its new for kreutzer to feel.. responsibility for someone else like this he was always the one protected before keith laughs at this a lot what're you trying to do? be my big bro? but secretly he ...really likes having family again as idiotic as kreutzer is ofc lydia has always been there for him but as a surrogate mother an older sib is new and.. kind of nice in canon modern au they really are basically bros LOL actually cousins via mothers but alex/kreu goes to live w keiths family after his mom (lain) dies so they essentially grow up like brothers i didn't even get started w the fucking mess that is alan and kreutzer alan goes by calisto also and he hes the court jester but he was trained from a young age as a snake in the kings court he was supposed to kill the prince when the time was right but alan and his dumb fucking gay ass FALLS IN LOVE WITH HIM INSTEAD spoiler alert: its unrequited btwn alex and alan is NEVER requited in ALL aus its because alan ... doesnt love himself at all. he has no sense of... purpose or identity alex can never love someone like that but either way he becomes the prince's personal servant and entertainer and this idiot falls for him the naivete he displays, the timid stateliness, the unfitting title of prince bestowed on his shoulders- kreutzer is far too soft to be the leader of this kingdom and alan increasingly has the desire to protect him even as kreu grows older and more skilled in his studies there is always the anxious trepidation they also grow up together from around ages 11-present at the time of the novels start god alan loves him so much it hurts me but its so one sided alex loves cyrus in modern au ): alan could never be more than just a phase tbh poor guy alan and his low self esteem and depression the worst part of this thougg is that because alan feels aimless and without purpose when he falls for kreutzer he ... finally has his OWN cause to fight for and he takes it to the extreme betraying everyone that trusted him to do his job for the sake of a man who wont ever love him it bites him in the ass too bc i kill him off as a catalyst for other stuff h ahahahhahahahahahahaha not just kill him off but horribly because HE FUCKING BETRAYED HIS ENTIRE SIDE THEY ARE, UNDERSTANDABLY, PISSED Alan is so fuckong flawed hes a fuckinf mess and i love it ugh im thinkijg of another scene in the novel once kreutzer gets captured bt the coup rebels he actuallt submits himself voluntarily bc keith gets kidnapped and used as ransom keith tells him hes a fucking idiot keiths life doesnt matter dont fucking come for me! but kreu doesnt listen obviously and they torture kreutzer bc i love suffering and after that they make him listen in a mock trial to the testimonials of all the people hurt by his mother death to the queen! death to elaine of koel! all the horrible stories of lives unjustly cut short because of his mother it breaks him because he loves his mother so much but she's done all these horrible things he doesn't know what to do how to make amends the damage was done and he takes their wrath their scorn and anguish and i'm sorry as if sorry could ever fix anything but it is his burden to carry, his punishment to suffer in place of the queen ironically this makes lilya have a change of heart she was infiltrating the queens court just as alan did and she is directly responsible for her death her assassination, i think or the king's? either way shes part of the rebel forces and she DESPISES the queen good fucking riddance as far as she's concerned that woman made her life hell(edited) so she can rot in it for all lilya cares for but seeing kreutzer there bloodied tortured sobbing broken and taking the punishment doled out to him without so much as a word of protest(edited) she thinks... this... isnt right this is wrong. because kreutzer was not responsible for the sins of his mother as much as people want to blame him, take out their anger on him lilya was at first all gung ho about ending the royal bloodline lies and dirt - Last Thursday at 7:02 AM but she reconsiders this moment feels something tugging at her this isnt right

she remembers her sister back at the circus— lydia. who she always loved dearly but clashed with, leading to her abandoning the circus and joining the rebellion.

retribution is deserved, but should it be served? what then makes us different from our oppressors?

or sth like that so she rescues kreutzer takes him back to the circus. and reunites with her sister after so many years after that ik not entirely sure what to do w the novel LOL bc i know there has to he a big battle bc the rebellion forces begin to quell opposition like how the communist regime in other countries started in ernest bc people felt oppressed but then they went too far and started culling the middle class so then kreutzer leads his own rebellion force against them to take back the country then once he wins he uses his kinghood to dissolve the monarchy and embrace democracy instead asking lydia to lead hes much too tired to lead, and she is much better suited for it but hm inhabe to think more about that entire segment after this he takes over lydias spot in the circus as its owner and organizer and with keith he spends the rest of his days helping people just like keith also they properly mourn alans death it takes forever for kreu to come to terms w his mothers assassination and crimes he probably never truly works it out but he begins to be able to recognize that she is both the tyrant queen and his loving mother that they do not cancel eachother out, that they are not mutually exclusive they are one in the same UGH IM SO UPSET I WISH ID FUCKING WRITE THIS BC I WANT TO FUCKING READ IT the message i wanna convey is like people.. are complex, imperfect, and the systems they create are also subjected to that but everyone does things for a reason. no matter what that reason is and i want lydia to address this too when she becomes the new prime minister of koel a democracy is not perfect, because man is not perfect. there will be hardship, mistakes made along the way. but together we can grow, improve, and learn about one another— and better our society for it. and i believe anywhere injustice goes, justice will always follow(edited) sth like that ig

[theochelpsquad]

Katherine Jenkins (Attack on Titan OC)

Quotes: “If you’re just standing there doing nothing to help, I swear, Rachel, I’m going to kick someone’s ass, and you know damn well who.”

“I do not care WHAT you were going to say, but I’ll take your piece of cake and make it hostage, for you do not do anything stupid.”

“Why do you care? Go do something useful and don’t think about my safety. Yours is more important.”

H: This is also a really long review, so under the cut! I’ll be the only mod reviewing this one.

General Characteristics-

Name: Katherine Apprill Jenkins

Nickname(s): Kate (mostly used by Rachel), Jenkins (most of the higher-ups), Susan Jenkins (Levi when needs her attention), Catty (when being teased)

H: The nicknames are really creative, but why does Levi call her Susan? Did she tell him who she was? How did it affect their relationship?

Affiliation: Survey Corps, Special Operations Squad

Former Affiliation: 104th Training Corps

H: WOOO, 104th! My favorite thing about the AoT series is that OCs can be in the 104th Corps. Unfortunately, that means she can’t be in the top 10. :(

Theme Song:

(childhood) www.youtube.com/watch?v=iH5WzkE8_Hk&list=PLD511BA65BC4B66AF&index=7

(to her (future) significant other) www.youtube.com/watch?v=R4svwoQad6k&list=PLD511BA65BC4B66AF&index=5

(actual) www.youtube.com/watch?v=5KHEv5HMsWc

Zodiac: Aquarius

-

Physical Characteristics-

Accessories: None

Knowledge: 9/10

Conceptualization Power: 5/10

Motivation: 9/10

Will to Act: 10/10

Agility: 5/10

3D Maneuvering Gear: 8/10

H: Low agility and high 3DMG stats sounds like an interesting combination! Does it cause some trouble?

Swordsmanship: 7/10

Hand-to-Hand Combat:: 3/10

Long Range Accuracy: 4/10

H: It’s really rare to see an AoT OC with low battle stats and agility. I like where you’re going with her!

Strategy: 9/10

H: Earlier, you gave her low conceptualization power but high strategy. How does her mind work? I’m not saying you should change the scores--in fact, it might be more interesting to explain how she comes up with battle plans when she can’t conceptualize.

Teamwork: 6/10

Offense: 7/10

Defense: 5/10

Social Skills: 4/10

Dress Style/Wardrobe: Survey Corps jacket, White long-sleeved shirt, white pants, dark brown sash around the waist, dark brown knee-high boots, green cloak

Eye Color: Green

Equipment: 3DMG complete with snap-off blades

Gender: Female

Hair Color: Redhead

Height: 5'7" (170 cm)

Most Valuable Possession: A gold bracelet with “Susan Jenkins” written on it, which Katherine has since birth

H: I really like this tidbit! Who was Susan and where did she get the bracelet?

Nationality: British with both American parents

H: I made a post about AoT OCs a while ago, where I talked about character nationality. In the series, America is never mentioned, and most characters come from Europe. I would personally recommend that you change her parents’ nationalities, but seeing as the location of the AoTverse hasn’t been confirmed, you don’t have to.

Scars: One on her left knee, and a few on her back and shoulders

H: To add complexity to her background, explain where she got these. Maybe a fight, or an injury as a child?

Weight: 127 lbs (58 kg)

H: She seems pretty thin, but it could be because of malnutrition. Then again, Wall Sina (Sina? Sheena?) is mostly rich. Did her parents use up all of their money to move inside Wall Sina and ended up poor? Were they rich but she lost weight after running away?

-

Personal Characteristics-

Birth Date: August 23

Birth Place: Yarckel District, Wall Sina (or Sheena, whatever)

First Word(s): “Papa’s song”

H: This is really sweet!

Parents: Ronald and Emma Jenkins

Siblings: Katherine Apprill Jenkins (stillborn)

H: Having a stillborn sibling can be hard, especially when you share a name. Did this affect her relationship with her parents and herself?

Death Date: N/A

Age at Death: N/A

Death Place: N/A

Resting Place: N/A

Last Word(s): She has already thought about them and has them ready

H: It seems like a small addition, but this says a lot about her character. I like it!

Primary Objective: Rachel says is for avenge the death of all the victims of Shiganshina, but Katherine never said that it was all the truth. So everyone else just assume that it’s somehow related to her family or friends, and she doesn’t want to talk about why she’s there or what are her main goals

H: Does she have a reason for not telling or is she just awkward?

Secondary Objective(s): Keep Rachel safe and protect the humanity

Priorities: Herself, Rachel, her friends and her family

Motivation: Rachel and herself. If it were not for the hope of living a happy life with her best friend after destroying all the titans, she would have gone insane and would throw herself into the mouth of a titan at the first opportunity.

H: I can tell that Rachel is a really important person to her. Does she feel guilty when Rachel is injured, even when it’s not her fault?

Accomplishments:

Solo Titan Kills: 9

Team Titan Kills: 25

Greatest Achievement: Helping humanity take back Wall Maria and Shiganshina District

Failures: Letting Jean irritate enough to fight physically with him, became too afraid of telling her parents about entering the Survey Corps and running away because of it

Biggest Failure: Feeling overconfident on her first battle and almost being killed as consequence

Self-Confidence: Kate has trouble trusting herself. Sometimes she is overconfident and thinks that she can defeat anyone (and ends up being defeated), at other times she trusts herself in a healthy measure, and at other times she simply thinks she can not do anything useful. Rachel is always there to make her go back to the healthy measure of self-confidence

Traumas: Hearing her parents discussing about her dead twin for the first time when she was really young

Embarrassment: Being scolded by Levi because of her fight with Jean (being scolded by her own crush, I would be embarrassed too)

H: Yikes… so would I.

Worries: She worries too much about Rachel, Wallace and Oliver, even if they’re actually good on protecting themselves she just can not think the worst will not happen.

H: Do they get annoyed at her overprotectiveness or do they understand?

Earliest Memory: Hearing her father singing for her when she was three years old

Fondest Memory: When she showed Rachel all her grandfather’s paintings of the outside world

Worst Memory: Seeing her comrades dying right in front of her, she was trying to help fighting against the Female Titan and after had to race back to the walls

Favorite Dream: Rachel and her living a happy life, free of titans and walls, with her other best friends together, every comrade alive and well with them

Worst Nightmare: Everyone is dead. Katherine is shaking as she was when she was held by a titan in her first battle. Female Titan, Armored Titan, Colossal Titan, Beast Titan, all of them are just ahead of her eating her best friends and she can not do anything to stop it.

H: Her nightmare has to do with being powerless; you could tie in her fear of losing control with anxiety and her overprotective nature.

Desires: to be free from these walls, this king and these titans along with all the people she cares about

Wishes: That her mother and father could see how much she changed and got better. Of course, to her it is a silly wish, but is what she wanted

Secrets: Her crush on Levi Ackerman (she think it is, but is pretty obvious)

Confidantes: Rachel and William

Soft Spots: The “cute dog face that fell from the change truck” thing and being called Susan.

Quirks: Is annoyed by people prone to fidgeting with things, is fascinated with bees, always have to scream once in the day “BRIOCHE” and/or “SAUERKRAUT” on Oliver’s ears because he get so mad (and is funny)

Dominant Hand: Ambidextrous

Catchphrase: “I’m not going to listen your stupidity.”

H: RUDE.

-

Mental Characteristics-

Attitude: Most of the time Katherine shows little to no emotions, but when she’s with her “squad” (three childhood friends, Rachel, Wallace and Oliver) she becomes more sociable. Short-tempered when it comes to idiotic things. No matter what, she will try to protect her close friends if they’re in danger but Kate gets embarrassed when she’s the one being saved. Kate is emotional and sensible inside, but acts stone cold when she thinks emotions will interfere (almost all the time). She’s gentle and polite normally, but get angry easily and then she become violent and rude to her anger’s target.

H: These are really well written and realistic characters, well done!

Bad Habits: Following people if is bored, talking alone, breaking the rules if she think she needs

Good Habits: Help her comrades on trainings, discuss all her strategies with the others

Known Languages: English, French and a little about German

H: Where did she learn these? Was it taught to her by her parents or did she teach herself?

Pet Peeves: Idiotic comments, people who are drumming their fingers in things

Phobias: Ankylophobia (Fear of immobility of a joint)

-

Spiritual Characteristics-

Animal: Owl

Superstitions: Every Friday 13th is a dangerous day and bad events can happen to people

Vices: Crankiness, doubt, secrecy, melancholic, moodiness

H: These are really well-rounded flaws!

Virtues: Awareness, cooperativeness, hopefulness, independence, punctiliousness

Signature Move: She doesn’t have one

Specialty: Planning and helping with strategies

Strengths: Protecting her friends, trusting her comrades and her will to survive

Weaknesses: Overconfidence (or lack of confidence at times)

-

Residential Characteristics-

Citizenship: Wall Sina (or Sheena, whatever again)

Hometown: Yarckel District

Sleep Patterns: Katherine usually sleeps 3 hours and take naps during daytime

Traditions: Scream “BRIOCHE” and/or “SAUERKRAUT” on Oliver’s ears once in the day, before a mission Katherine takes out her bracelet and think about the “other Katherine”, then put it back

H: Is Susan Jenkins another name for her twin?

-

Interpersonal Connections-

Friends: Oliver (OC), Wallace (OC), Rachel (OC), Sasha, Connie, Armin, Eren, Mikasa, Hanji, Levi (…or she does think he is), William (my friend’s OC)

Immediate Family: Ronald Jenkins (Father), Emma Jenkins (Mother), Katherine Jenkins (Twin sister, stillborn)

Inspirations: Levi, Armin Arlet, Eren Yeager (Jaeger, whatever)

Rivals: Jean Kirschtein

First Love: Oliver Schmit

Love Interest(s): Levi Ackerman and William Knox

H: This is a good place to expand on her relationships! Do William and Levi know she likes  them, and do they care? Are they jealous of each other?

Significant Other: None - she’s single

-

Highs and Lows-

Likes: Reading mystery/thriller books, opening up to who she trust wholeheartedly, calm and silent places, home

Dislikes: Being angry, fighting against humans, fake smiles and fake people, being alone, misunderstandings

Favorite Animal: Cat

Favorite Color: Green

Favorite Drink: Coffee

Favorite Excuse: Unless she was doing something she’s comfortable, she will tell the truth. If it’s a secret or uncomfortable thing, “I was occupied enough”

Favorite Food: Apple pie

Favorite Number: 57

Favorite Pastime: Reading

Favorite People: The trio (Oliver, Wallace and Rachel), her two love interests

Favorite Place: Her room, as she made him look quite like his room at home

Favorite Quote From Another Character: I don’t like the terms “good person” or “bad person” because it is impossible to be entirely good to everyone - Armin Arlert

-

Social Characteristics-

Communication: Katherine speaks politely and carefully so people understand exactly what she means, except when she relies on the person enough to speak in a more informal and less cautious way. When she gets angry she simply talks everything she feels or thinks about the person, rudely and maliciously, to hurt that person

Criminal Record: She doesn’t have a criminal record

Discrimination: Even if she don’t want to, Kate look down at the Military Police and the ones that run away for fear, especially the last one, because even if she is scared she fights (and, secretly, she remembers when she runned away from home and feel regret of being like those people).

Dominance: Following is always the best for her. She listen to her higher-ups well, but if Katherine feels that they are wrong, Kate knows that she needs to lead the ones that feel the same way that her.

Emotional Stability: Depending the topic of conversation or situation, the little Jenkins can explode or suppress her emotions until she’s all alone. Alone the girl cry all she needs to cry or hit something until it is in pieces. Normally Kate express herself if she feels comfortable, mostly when surrounded by friends or people she can trust.

Expression: The Jenkins almost all the time wears a blank expression, but if she’s with her friends or alone, you can see how she really is and feels.

Humor: With her friends she joke sometimes, but she isn’t the funny type

Liveliness: Once you gain her trust and/or affection, Kate will slowly open up and relax around you

Mannerisms: She moves her legs a little when she’s been waiting for a long time, runs her hand through her hair when she’s about to say something difficult or uncomfortable to someone else, scratches the back of her neck when she’s nervous, blink more than usual when she hears something unexpected or gets confused

Patience: “Everything has a limit,” she would say if someone asked why she did not wait for 2 hours to receive a piece of apple pie

Reputation: For the others in Survey Corps, she’s the girl who got a scolding from Captain Levi after fighting with Jean or the girl who makes good strategies, for those in the Military Police she’s the girl who makes great strategies and does not show emotions, for those who are in the Garrison is who helped to take back Wall Maria, and for normal people she is the daughter of a wealthy couple who has a twin who was born dead and was named with the name that would be her sister

H: She’s really complex!

Sociability: She does not approach other people unless she really admire that person or think is necessary. Usually people approach her

H: In general, I think you wrote her really well and realistically. She has an interesting backstory, but there are a few inconsistencies, and a few places where you could add more. She’s a really promising start, though!