#because to be close to me would mean to acknowledge abuse and that it's real and happening

[furiousgoldfish]

Speaking from a bad place, so bear with me. Has anyone thought about how being important or special to other people is based just on the people closest to you?

We regard strangers as people who are fairly irrelevant to us, because they have little to no impact to our life, and their lives and struggles won't generally touch us. In contrast, lives of people directly around us have a great impact on us, and they decide our relevancy. We give them roles in our lives, like friends, mentors, partners, lovers, caretakers, and in that regard they're special to us, irreplaceable. We also want to have an equally strong meaning in their life, to have a warm place in their heart and respect in their minds, as they do for us.

When people around us who hold great relevancy for us, also give us that same relevancy back, we feel important, we know we're special to them. That our role in their life shapes their experience, gives them gratitude and they've accepted us as someone they want and need around.

In contrast to that, when people in our life refuse to give us that same respect, warmth and relevancy, then we wonder what is wrong with us. What is missing so we can't be appreciated and regarded with the same love and respect that we show to them. Lack of mutuality makes us sink down with insecurity, self doubt and deep feeling that we're not enough, that we've done something wrong, not to deserve the same that we give to others.

And it also works out the same in isolation, if you have no one close to you, no one who has your well being in mind or cares for what becomes of you, it feels like you're important to no one, like you are not special whatsoever, even like you could be disposable if nobody cares at all.

But none of that is based on what's inside of us, who we are or how much love and good we are capable of giving and showing. It's nothing even related to our behaviour and actions, you could put anyone in these situations and results would be generally similar; person who is not experiencing reciprocity, or is left to fend for themselves alone, will lose the feeling that they're important or special in any way.

Isn't that weird? That we can end up judging our own worth based on nothing we did, or nothing we are, just based on how people around us are treating us, or whether we have anyone around us at all. In our essence we didn't change at all, it's just who is or isn't around, that determines our worth.

If we're put in a group of people who want to create bonds based on good things they see in us, we'll become able of seeing that good in ourselves. If we're surrounded by people who all feel the same as we do, act on the same moral code, readily reciprocate respect and warmth that we show to them, we won't feel like anything is wrong with us. We'll feel at home.

And since this is so intrinsic to being a person, to long for this and only feel relevant, safe and cared for in these circumstances, isn't it natural that we all deserve that? To be surrounded by people who make us feel like nothing is wrong with us, and like we're at home? Who help us focus on everything good in us, and give us no reasons to believe that we should be rejected or banished at all? Since abuse did the absolute opposite, and forced us to believe there's only reasons for abandonment, hatred and contempt, I believe being in the environment where people see many reasons to want us in their lives, would heal us.

[suffersinfandom]

Alright, I’m gonna talk about Ed and abuse.

“Why, V? Why are you spending your precious time on Earth typing about some dumb fandom stuff when you could be doing literally anything else?”

In short, seeing all of these “Ed is an abuser who’s inevitably going to hurt Stede” takes have been driving me absolutely bonkers since I first noticed them. They’re not going away, so I’m going to bang out an essay. 

In less-short: it’s because abuse is a serious thing and, as someone who’s experienced it, I get a little feisty when it becomes a topic of discourse in my silly pirate fandom. It’s because it’s upsetting to read meta after meta accusing an indigenous man of being an abuser. It’s because a lot of the abuse discourse in the fandom fails to separate real-life abuse from violence in a show. It’s because the vast majority of the abuse talk only acknowledges physical abuse which, while terrible, is not the only kind that hurts people and utterly destroys their lives. 

It’s because calling Ed abusive or insisting that he’s a future abuser can harm people who are like him -- people who have suffered abuse or get angry sometimes or have hurt people when they were hurt. Victims of abuse, especially those who dealt with it in childhood, often fear becoming abusers themselves. They bottle up their anger for fear of hurting someone. They hurt themselves in a misguided attempt to protect others. They don’t need to see fandom meta that enforces their fears.

And it’s because, frankly, I am unemployed and I promise I’ll stop if you give me a transcription or copyediting job, please and thank you.

Before I get into it…

I may as well come clean and say that I’m on team Ed absolutely isn’t abusive and it’s weird that people are getting that from a show that’s full of violence. 

Plenty has been typed in Ed’s defense by POC in the fandom, so I’m not going to go into how deeply unfortunate it would be to make an indigenous main character an abuser. I’m just going to say that, when you consider OFMD’s genre and attitude towards violence, it seems clear to me that you can’t call Ed abusive without calling out other characters (unless you have some kind of bias against Ed). His actions are deplorable in the real world, a bit much in OFMD’s world, deeply unhealthy, not okay by any means, and shitty and traumatizing for his crew, but they aren’t abusive.

I’m going to try to keep things polite and respectful. I’m also going to try to stick close to what the text is trying to say; I truly do want to present an honest, earnest analysis of something that I love. 

The arguments in favor of Ed as an abuser.

We can’t defend an idea without knowing what we’re arguing against (with brief counterpoints that I hope to expand on later). For this section (lol, sections, that feels pretentious and weird and I’m sorry), I’ll be lightly rephrasing things and omitting sources.

“Ed has anger management issues that disqualify him from being a romantic lead.”

Counterpoint: Ed does not have anger management issues. (Even if he did, I can think of a few very successful franchises with shitty and violent romantic leads. Ew.) He gets angry sometimes, as we all do.

“I defended Ed making Izzy eat his toe because that was a single instance and abuse is a pattern. Season two made it an explicit pattern.”

Counterpoint: First, feeding people their toes isn’t a biggie in this universe. Second, Ed fed Izzy that initial toe because he stepped out of line and demanded Blackbeard; it’s likely that additional toes were the victims of Izzy not being obedient. (I’m not saying this is right or that it’s cool to feed people body parts when they disobey, btw. I hope that doesn’t need to be said.)

“The first two episodes of season two set up the cycle of abuse so well, but the show never follows through. It doesn’t even acknowledge that it set up that storyline. If they’d wanted to end the season on a happy note without spending a lot of time fixing Ed’s relationship with the crew, they could have just made Ed’s behavior in the first two episodes less dark and abusive.”

Counterpoint: Ed’s behavior in the first two episodes isn’t abusive. It’s a bit over the top and it hurts people, yeah, but Ed’s definitely not following in his abusive father’s footsteps and systematically abusing his crew.

“Season two gives us straight up abuse. It gives us Stede, still soft around the edges, being deliberately headbutted during their reunion.”

Counterpoint: There is no abuse between Ed and Stede. The headbutt was not a case of a violent person intentionally hitting their passive partner; it was a confused, unwell, and nonverbal man reacting to the presence of someone who hurt him. Also? Stede has no problem setting boundaries or speaking out. Good for him!

“As bad as the season finale was, I’m glad the crew’s safe from Ed. Now that Izzy isn’t there to protect them, any little trigger could set Ed off and lead to him hurting them. Stede, though… Stede’s stuck with Ed and the corpse of Ed’s last victim, and it’s only a matter of time before Ed destroys him too.”

Counterpoint: This take is so far removed from the text of the show that I don’t know how to address it quickly, but here we go: Ed is not a threat to the crew after episode two, Izzy did not protect the crew from Ed’s moods, Ed does not have a hair-trigger temper, Izzy is not Ed’s victim, and -- vitally -- Stede is in absolutely no danger. Ed is not destined to be an abusive partner in season three.

And an overriding counterpoint to everything is this: Our Flag Means Death is a comedy with tons of over-the-top violence. If your theory is unrelentingly grim or looks at violence and its consequences in a real-world light, consider stepping back and remembering what genre the events of the show are happening in. If you think that only the violence committed by the indigenous lead is abuse, look at the actions of the other characters and ask yourself why Ed doesn’t get the same grace you’ve granted the others.

With that quick and dirty rundown of the arguments I’ve seen, let’s move on to the next important step in building an argument: definitions.

What is abuse in the real world?

In the real world, abuse is extremely serious and not something to be taken lightly. But what is abuse? We can’t say much about it in any world without knowing what it is in ours, so here’s a simple explanation:

Abuse “includes [a pattern of] behaviors that physically harm, intimidate, manipulate, or control a partner or otherwise force them to behave in ways they don’t want to. This can happen through physical violence, threats, emotional abuse, or financial control.” (1)

“Emotional abuse includes non-physical behaviors that are meant to control, isolate, or frighten someone. These behaviors are often more subtle and hard to identify but are just as serious as other types of abuse.” (2)

It’s important to emphasize that not all purposeful harm to another person, physical or otherwise, is abuse. “What abuse really means is control. When a truly abusive situation exists, it’s because one party is seeking to control the other through abuse.” (2)

To summarize, abuse is a pattern of behavior that involves one person intentionally harming another. That harm is meant to control, and it can take on more forms than just physical. 

That said, I’m mostly concerned with physical abuse here, as that’s the only kind that I’ve ever seen discussed in relation to Ed. Going into mental and emotional abuse will involve talking more about a specific non-Ed character and I don’t want to go there. Possibly ever.

In our world, all abuse is terrible. Vitally, our world -- and this is very important, so underline it twice if you’re taking notes -- does not operate by the rules of a pirate rom-com.

Okay, so what is abuse in the silly pirate world of Our Flag Means Death?

First, we have to understand what the show is. @piratecaptainscaptainpirates lays it out nicely:

“1. This is a rom-com.The central romance between Ed and Stede and comedy are therefore the two most core parts of the show, with Ed and Stede's romance taking priority over everything else. That's not to say OFMD doesn't have dark themes, it absolutely does; it's to say that comedy is always important to how the show is written, acted, and filmed.

“2. This is not a subtle show. That's not to say it's a simple one [...]. It's amazingly layered and emotional responses by characters are often extremely complex. However, when the show is trying to tell you something, it's not subtle and it never tries to hide it.” (3)

Did you jot that down? Our Flag Means Death is a romantic comedy with one core romantic couple, Ed and Stede, whose story takes priority over everything else. It can be dark, it can be serious, but it is, at its core, a comedy, and not a subtle one at that.

Some things are just funny and that’s it.

As a rule, the most obvious reading is going to be the one to go with. The show’s meanings aren’t hidden under layers of red herrings and subtext; if you’re compelled to bring out the conspiracy corkboard, you’re probably in too deep.

But this isn’t just a rom-com: it’s a pirate rom-com, and that comes with gratuitous violence. Here’s a short, fun list of examples of things that we can consider canon-typical pirate violence:

Tying hostages to the mast and letting them cook a bit

Wanton murder during a raid (“Note the gusto!”)

Pirate A threatening his crush at gunpoint until Pirate B gutstabs him

Whippies and yardies

Cutting off toes and feeding them to people “for a laugh”

Pirates who are madly in love stabbing and poisoning each other

Literally any violence directed at a racist (this violence is, in fact, good and encouraged)

There’s also the pirate-typical killing of other pirates. Duels don’t seem entirely unusual, and Izzy outright tries to get Stede killed at several points in season one. When Chauncey Badminton and the English navy show up after being summoned by Izzy, Stede’s life isn’t the only one on the line; the rest of the crew is also put in potentially life-threatening danger. Izzy is forgiven, so I think it’s safe to say that attempted murder is the kind of thing that pirates typically move on from. Eventually. If the attempted murderer is pathetic enough.

In short, Our Flag Means Death has a lot of violence, and very few instances of violence (looking at you, Hornigold) are treated as anything other than socially acceptable. But do you know what’s really important in the show?

Feelings.

The way characters feel as a result of something is given an immense amount of weight. All of the show’s subtleties are in the realms of the mental and the emotional, and that’s where the real pain is too. 

Nigel Badminton’s death was bad because it was emotionally and mentally devastating for Stede. Ed’s father’s murder was bad because it hurt him and forced him to create a monstrous alter ego to cope. Both of those men -- Nigel and Father Teach -- are totally acceptable casualties; their deaths would be net positives if they hadn’t had such strong impacts on our leads.

Feelings are everything in Our Flag Means Death, and the feelings of our leads are the heart of the show. That’s where the story is; that’s where the complexity and ambiguity is. 

So what is abuse in this context? The casual treatment of physical violence and the seriousness of emotional distress tell us to adjust our own moral judgments accordingly. Physical violence is everyday, straightforward, and often comedic; emotional violence is devastating and complicated. Physical violence is cartoonish and, half the time, part of a punchline. Emotional violence is real and raw and not a joking matter. Attempted murder can be shrugged off; ditching your boyfriend after experiencing a traumatic event is more complicated.

When we ask ourselves if something in OFMD is abuse, we have to consider the act in the context of a rom-com that’s all about the feelings of two guys, set against the violent backdrop of piracy, and absolutely packed with people getting maimed and murdered in casual, comedic ways. 

Awesome! Now we’re a little clearer about definitions and genre and how we should adjust our expectations! Unfortunately, we haven’t jumped into the real meat of whatever the hell this essay is…

Is Ed abusive in the context of the show?

No.

Aaaand we’re done!

Joking, joking. Obviously I’m going to pick out the examples of “abuse” that people cite and discuss each one, but first: we need to talk about Ed, violence, and anger. 

Ed is not a violent person. He’s not full of rage that’s threatening to erupt at all times, and he’s not some kind of sadist that revels in hurting people. The violence of Blackbeard is a fuckery: the theater of fear, an illusion of cruelty calculated to terrify enemies into surrendering. 

Ed has his whole thing with murder that's rooted in childhood trauma. Killing his (canonically, decidedly) abusive father to protect his mother scars him so badly that he distances himself from the situation -- blames Father Teach’s death on the Kraken -- and can’t bring himself to directly kill anyone else after that. Blackbeard orders murders and causes deaths and maims and maintains his image as a bloodthirsty murderer, but Ed doesn’t do “the big job” himself until the end of season two. When Stede’s life is in the balance, Ed can kill to protect him. 

Edward Teach kills only to protect.

But that’s killing, and we’re talking about general violence. Ed is casual about the day-to-day violence of piracy. He participates in it, incites it, and doesn’t feel bad about it. No one does! It’s part of the job! 

That leaves us with the "anger problem." Ed is frequently characterized as an angry person who lashes out when enraged, and I don’t think that canon at all supports this interpretation. Ed gets mad, yes, but his anger is always at least understandable. It isn’t a constant, simmering thing that turns him into an abusive monster when he’s triggered. He doesn't always deal with his anger (or any of his other feelings) in a good and constructive way because both of our leads lack emotional maturity, but I think it's a mistake to characterize him as an angry person.

Hopefully I can elaborate on this idea -- the idea that Ed is only violent and angry in a normal and canon-appropriate way, and anger is by no means one of his defining characteristics -- by doing a run-down of all of the times Ed is accused of being abusive or showing signs of being an abuser.

Sooooo...

Ed loses his shit on a falling snake during his nature adventure with Stede (S1E7). In this scene, he’s embarrassed about the whole treasure hunt thing and annoyed by the very existence of nature. He is not relaxed. When nature takes him by surprise by falling on him, he stabs the crap out of it in a scene that is played for comedy. There’s the important part: this is comedy. Ed is grumpy and his childish tantrum is harmless and silly. It isn’t a red flag. Overreacting while irritated isn’t an indicator that someone will be abusive.

Ed punches Izzy after the English have taken the Revenge, captured Stede, and turned Ed over to Izzy (S1E9). Honestly, I think the fact that Ed lets Izzy talk before punching him demonstrates a great deal of restraint on his part! This is justified anger and fear for Stede’s life. This also isn’t some sign that Ed hits Izzy on the regular.

In his post-pillow fort era, Ed is cleaning up his cabin when that one highly contentious Izzy scene happens (S1E10). Izzy insults Ed, tells him that he’d be better off dead than as he currently is, and says that he serves only Blackbeard (Ed better watch his fucking step). Ed reacts by grabbing Izzy by the throat and telling him to choose his next words carefully. This, in my opinion, is a valid way for a pirate captain to react to insubordination. At the very least, it doesn't tell us that Ed is Izzy's abuser; there's no indication that this isn't a one-off provocation and reaction.

Which takes us to The Toe Scene.

In real life, it would be extremely fucked up for a boss to remove an employee’s toe and make him eat it. OFMD is not real life. One episode earlier, Ed was talking about the life he was glad to leave behind -- the life where The Toe Thing was done “for a laugh.” Not as punishment, but for fun. It’s set up as something that’s gross (“yuck”), not a grave punishment. When Ed feeds Izzy his toe, he gives Izzy what be asked for: he gives him a violent captain. He gives him Blackbeard. He gives him the guy who fed people toes for fun.

But what’s important here is that Ed is not having fun. He’s having a hell of a lot less fun than Izzy is, going by their expressions in the scene. This isn’t who he wants to be, but after having the possibility of a better life snatched away, Ed throws himself back into the sure thing. He becomes the Kraken -- the captain Izzy wants, the violent monster that Ed thinks he is and tries to distance himself from, and the only thing Ed thinks he can be. It’s sad. It’s desperation, not anger and abuse.

In the second season, Ed headbutts Stede after he’s revived from his coma/death (S2E4). In the next scene, Stede is holding a cold steak to his face and calling it an accident. Roach says “that’s what they all say” -- a line that alludes to domestic violence. The thing is? It’s not, and the crew has expectations of Ed that Stede doesn’t.

Ed is freshly out of a coma (or newly alive). He’s nonverbal. His brain is, medically speaking, couscous. He still has one foot in the gravy basket. When he sees the man who left him hovering over him -- the man he loves, the man who just appeared to him as a mermaid -- he tries to say something then, when that fails, resorts to a headbutt. This is a single violent action perpetrated by a confused and hurt man who doesn’t know what to do with all of his feelings. He can't talk. He can't push Stede away.

Stede understands all of this, even if the other characters don’t. He sees the headbutt for what it is: a bit of a bitchy move. He isn’t afraid of Ed. He never is. 

Stede also isn’t afraid of Ed when he acts out later that episode (S2E4). When Ed learns that Stede went back to Mary, he excuses himself from the dinner table, smashes a chair against the wall, and knocks a vase to the ground. In this entire episode (this entire season, tbh), Ed is having intense feelings that he doesn’t know how to express or work through; the reveal that Stede returned to his wife is the final straw. He takes his tangled feelings out on an acceptable target (a chair, a vase) instead of Stede because he doesn’t want to hurt Stede.

This looks a little like displacement -- when “an unacceptable feeling or thought about a person, place or thing is redirected towards a safer target.” Displacement is an “intermediate level coping mechanism.” That is, it’s more sophisticated than the ways children deal with intense issues, but it’s still not entirely mature. In an adult, it indicates a level of emotional immaturity. (4) Ed is emotionally immature, not inherently violent. He gets overwhelmed by his feelings and lashes out -- not at a person, but at something that can’t get hurt. 

Displacement is not an indicator that someone is an abuser. It’s a coping mechanism. It’s an attempt at emotional regulation. It’s not the best coping mechanism, but it’s definitely not a sign that someone is going to go into a rage and assault people.

Stede cringes when Ed smashes the chair and sends the vase crashing to the ground, but he’s not afraid of Ed. He is never afraid of Ed because he knows that Ed isn’t a real threat to him. He cringes because sometimes that's what a person does when a loud thing happens. That's what people do when chair shrapnel starts flying. Also? It's kind of embarrassing behavior on Ed's part. They're guests enjoying a mediocre dinner! That's no way to act!

And this leaves us with the first two episodes of season two, which are an absolute mess.

Ed is fully in his Kraken era. He has no hope that Stede will return, he no longer trusts the crew, and he feels trapped in a life he absolutely doesn’t want. He thinks that he has to perform Blackbeard until death sets him free. He sobs in his cabin when no one’s looking. Publicly, Ed fades into the role of remorseless and bloodthirsty pirate captain.

Needless to say, this makes for a shit work environment. Ed works the crew too hard. He drinks and does drugs and runs everyone ragged. He’s an absolutely terrible boss, but he isn’t abusive.

That isn’t to say that the crew left on the Revenge isn’t traumatized. They are! They’ve been thrown off balance by the sudden change for the worse in someone who was their friend, and they’re traumatized by the neverending violence that the constant raids -- raids that were bloody and deadly, not the fuckeries of the past -- demanded of them. They’re traumatized by that final night in the storm when Ed did everything in his power to goad them into killing him, almost murdering everyone in the process. They’re traumatized by their own attempt at murder.

In S2E4, Blackbeard’s crew has flashbacks to the violence they perpetrated under the Kraken: Jim fighting Archie, Fang breaking a man over his knee. They’re also haunted by guilt about what they did to Ed, as evidenced by their Lady Macbeth-style scrubbing. Their own violence is a significant part of their trauma in this episode.

No, that doesn’t absolve Ed. He drove the violence -- demanded it of both the crew and himself. He hurt other people because he was hurting, and that’s terrible. 

Ed’s behavior in the first two episodes of season two is horrible, but he’s not abusive. Not all bad or violent behavior is abuse.

(We also have to ask ourselves just how bad Ed’s behavior really is. Archie, someone from the pirate world who has no idea what the Revenge was like pre-Kraken, tells Jim “that’s how these things usually go” at the height of Ed’s violence. She doesn’t act like she experienced anything out of the ordinary which is, if I may be honest, kind of worrying. But ultimately, whether or not Ed’s actions when he was at his worst are normal for pirates doesn’t matter a ton here.) 

But what about Izzy, I’m sure you’re asking!

What about Izzy indeed. Ugh. Okay, let’s just… let’s walk through the first two episodes.

One of the first things we see Ed do in season two is shoot a man. At first this seems like the show telling us that Ed is embracing the kind of violence he couldn’t manage before, but if we pay attention, we can see that he’s still following his “not a murderer on a technicality” logic. The man he shoots has a sword through his chest; he's as good as dead. He also falls offscreen before Ed shoots, making the action less impactful.

OFMD is not subtle and this is a quick way to communicate what’s going on with Ed. He’s not doing well and he’s more violent than he was last season, but he’s still himself under the Kraken’s makeup. He hasn’t done a moral one-eighty. If the show wanted us to think that Ed's a monster, they would have made him a hell of a lot more violent.

So. Izzy.

Immediately after Ed tells Izzy that he’s replaceable in S2E1, we reach the scene that people point to and say, “That’s domestic violence!” This is where Izzy breaks down because he has just been told in no uncertain terms that he’s not Blackbeard’s special little guy. That’s devastating to him, and he cries when the crew shows him kindness. 

Jim tells Izzy he’s in an unhealthy relationship with Blackbeard; Frenchie describes their relationship as “toxic.” 

A toxic relationship is “any relationship [between people who] don’t support each other, where there’s conflict and one seeks to undermine the other, where there’s competition, where there’s disrespect and a lack of cohesiveness." (5) And you know what? Yeah, Ed and Izzy definitely have a toxic relationship. Well-sussed, Frenchie! And is their relationship unhealthy? It sure is -- for both of them! But the crew is, understandably, more sympathetic towards Izzy because they’ve never been present when Izzy was hurting Ed. 

(Only tangentially related, but the crew must have really liked Ed pre-Kraken. As far as they know, the man went dark with no warning or cause. They deal with his bullshit for approximately three months (assuming one raid a day), and he has to go so far before they put an end to him. Remember when they were ready to toss Izzy overboard after, like, twelve hours under his command?)

Even though they only have one side of the Izzy and Ed story, the crew isn’t accusing Ed of domestic abuse. The term doesn’t apply to the mutually fucked-up thing that Izzy and Ed have and, beyond that, the scene is played for laughs. Jim and Frenchie use comically modern language; the whole thing feels like an intervention for a stressed-out middle manager with a shitty boss. It's funny. It's a comical thing in a comedy show.

Moving on.

Izzy returns to Ed and tells him that the crew won’t throw treasure overboard to make room for more treasure. Ed says, “And that’s another toe.” Losing a toe is the penalty for failing the captain.

Which is more likely: that Ed cut off Izzy’s other toes on a cruel whim, or that Ed cut off Izzy’s toes after other perceived failures? I’m going for option two. It’s obviously not okay to punish an underling by taking toes, but we’ve already established that toe-removal isn’t a cruel and unusual pirate punishment. It’s done “for a laugh.” 

(Specifically, toe-chopping is the cost of Izzy’s failure. Frenchie disobeys and lies to Ed in his short time as first mate and he doesn’t lose a single toe. Izzy bears the brunt of Ed’s cruelty because he’s the one who demanded it.) 

This is not who Ed wants to be, but it’s who he thinks he has to be. It’s who Izzy told him to be.

Izzy makes the mistake of invoking Stede and Ed storms above deck. He holds the crew at gunpoint, one by one, and asks them if they think that the vibes on the ship are poisonous. No one gives him a positive answer and Ed turns the gun on himself. He works himself up until Izzy interrupts and the following exchange happens:

IZZY: “The atmosphere on this ship is fucked. Everyone knows why.” ED: “Well, I don’t. Enlighten me.” IZZY: “Your feelings for Stede fucking Bo--”

 [Ed shoots Izzy in the leg. Ed steps over him on his way back to his cabin.]

ED: “Throw this shit overboard and get suited up.”

I don’t want to go into speculation about the true cause of the fucked up vibe on the Revenge (it’s clearly not just Ed’s feelings for Stede) or why, exactly, Ed shot Izzy. What’s important for this post is this: Ed's actions are not unusually cruel for a pirate captain who considers his first mate out of line. This is the kind of thing that the idea of Blackbeard that Izzy worships does to maintain his reputation.

Fang cries when Ed shoots Izzy because he knows Blackbeard. He has been with Blackbeard longer than anyone else, and this isn’t Blackbeard. Blackbeard doesn’t work his crew this hard. Blackbeard doesn’t disregard the deaths of long-time crewmates like Ivan. Blackbeard doesn’t shoot his own crew. Fang is off-balance and distraught because his captain of twenty years is acting far, far more cruel than the Blackbeard he knew.

This is not Ed as he usually is. Ed at his worst is breaking all of his past patterns. He’s behaving like a different person. His actions at this point in time are not typical of his past actions or predicative of his future actions.

When we reach S2E2, Ed is chipper. He’s cleaning up, he’s tying up loose ends, and he has decided that, no matter what, this is the day that he dies. He’s determined. First, he’ll give Izzy a crack at killing him; next is the storm, the destruction of the steering wheel, and taking increasingly desperate actions to get the crew to stop him. He tells Jim and Archie to fight to the death. He goes to blow the mast away with a cannon and doesn’t react as nameless crew members are being washed overboard. 

Ed is stopped only by Izzy’s reappearance and the violent mutiny that follows.

None of what Ed does here is abuse. This is desperate violence. This is an unwell man begging everyone around him to send him to doggy heaven.

And finally, we have the big murder party in the season finale. A surprising number of fans interpret Ed’s willingness to cut down naval officers as a sure sign that he’s gotten worse and he’s more violent than ever. This is, in my opinion, a take that completely ignores everything we know about Ed and his relationship to violence.

I said it before, but it bears repeating: Edward Teach kills only to protect. He murdered his father to protect his mother. He mows down colonists for Stede. He kills for love, and by the end of season two, he has made some kind of peace with the Kraken and his own capacity for violence.

It’s sweet. Like, it wouldn’t be sweet in the real world, but in this world? In a world where physical violence is funny more often than it’s serious? In a world full of pirate characters who all have hefty body counts? It’s growth. It’s Ed healing.

Ed is doing better. He’s not a threat to the man he loves, and now he’s not a threat to himself either.

Anyway!

No, Ed is not abusive. No, there’s no indication that Ed will become abusive in the future.

“Okay, but many abuse survivors take issue with the irresponsible message that Jenkins is subtextually sending with Ed’s story!”

That’s fine. Take issue with things. Feel whatever you want to feel, but remember that abuse survivors are not a monolith. Consider, just for a moment, that the abuse you think you see in the show is not textual. Ask yourself if Ed is truly worse than all of the other characters or if you have some bias warping your view of him. 

Finally: please keep in mind that I’m not trying to present The One True Interpretation. I’m just rolling all of my arguments and thoughts into one big ol' ball and throwing it out into the wild. You don’t have to agree with me but, if you don’t, I hope you’ll at least have a bit of a think.

If you read this and liked it, please consider validating me with a like! If you read it and didn’t like it, I’m sorry for wasting your time. If you skimmed the first part and decided to dismiss me as soon as I said I don’t think that Ed is abusive… idk, peace and love and goodbye.

[fangsandfracturedhearts]

Fangs and Fractured Hearts

Chapter 13: The Fallacy of Power

Summary: You helped Astarion complete the Rite of Profane Ascension and become the Vampire Ascendant. You agreed to become his spawn soon after. Once the Netherbrain was defeated, Astarion claimed the Szarr Palace, renaming it the Crimson Palace, for himself and set about his plans of domination.

Word Count: 6.5k

Pairing: Ascended Astarion x female!Tav Spawn

Warnings: [Will try to continue to add more, but in general expect explicit content for mature audiences]

Possible spoilers. Eventual Explicit Content. Slow Burn. Thoughts of Suicide. Violence. Blood. Injury. Mature Content. Self-Harm. Mentions of in-game content. Completely fabricated camp events. Mentions of Astarion's Trauma.

If you notice a very critical tag missing, please don't hesitate to let me know

Rating: Explicit 18+ - [Meant For Mature Audience]

TW: Astarion's past abuse under Cazador is mentioned/visited in this chapter.

She has been cold and withdrawn since their discussion when he refused to say what she wanted to hear. She avoids him if possible and ignores him unless he directly speaks to her. When she walks around the manor, she is like a phantom gliding, lifeless and vacant, the ghost of a ship long ago wrecked at sea that still wanders the waters wayward with no purpose. So far, he’s left her alone in her misery. Should he be trying to cheer her up? His heart tells him he should, but his head tells him it’s unbecoming of the Vampire Ascendant to postulate himself in such a way. He should not have to seek her attention. She should give it to him willingly. If she wishes to wallow in her desolation, so be it.

He’s missed her in their bed, against his skin, and on his lips. Her silence is as deep as demise and simultaneously deafening. He misses her laughter, happy giggles, and his name on her tongue in her sweet, musical voice. Hells, he would even take a scolding from her right now as long as she’s speaking and more expressive than this wall of dysphoria. He will take anything but this pale apparition of surrender and hopelessness. He’s tried to goad her into arguments if only to get a rise from her, but she does as he requests without question, challenge, or emotion.

She wants a real relationship, but what does that mean to him? What kind of relationship is he capable of giving her? That presence in his head bids him to control, claim, and make her belong to him with or without her consent. It encourages him to give the command to make it so. The Vampire Ascendant does not request love - he simply fucking takes it because he is entitled to it. He is entitled to have anything and everything he wants, including her.

No.

There his thoughts go again, getting away from him, towing him down like quicksand. He must be careful not to let himself be cast down that ungodly rabbit hole. He may not get the chance to surface. Astarion’s hands rack over his face and through his hair. He needs the physical sensation that often interrupts the slow descent into madness.

Astarion. He reminds himself. I am Astarion.

She does not acknowledge his presence when he enters the library. Her sullen eyes are moored to the book lying in her lap, and she flips the pages idly. She did not even bother to light any of the candles, scones or oil lamps. She sits in the shadows like a lone lily, white and fair, against a pond reflecting dusk.

He clears his throat to get her attention, “I need you to attend my business meeting with me today. It may put you in a position where you are… uncomfortable, but I will be there to protect and stop you if needed.”

She closes the book, staring straight vacantly, not bothering to look at him. Her voice is as whisper quiet as a catatonic echo, “You’re taking me to a business meeting?”

“Yes,” he replies softly, making his voice as warm as a summer day as if he could warm her with it. “I need my consort by my side.”

“I am not your consort, Astarion,” she shakes her head with a despondent expression. She is so cold it makes him shiver. He’s used to flames veritably leaping off her tongue when she speaks. This... He has never witnessed this in her, but he recognizes it. This is how he was when he all but gave up after a few lashings, “I will go with you if you need me, but I am not your consort.”

Please, don’t give up on me... just yet.

“If you do not like the word consort, that is fine,” he crouches and takes her hand. It remains limp, and she still does not look at him. Astarion gently cradles her cheek and walks her eyes to him. They seem to look through him instead of at him, and his heart seizes in his chest. “Tell me what you would prefer. Partner? Girlfriend? Soulmate? Bride? Hells, wife? Just tell me what you want me to say. Please.”

The words scour his tongue like steel wool. Can his spawn truly be his partner, girlfriend or… Good Gods, he said wife, didn’t he? Where in the Hells did that come from, and why does the notion fill him with genuine joy? Will he be able to see her as an equal? He is the Vampire Ascendant… No one is his equal, and no one could ever be. But he is also Astarion. Which him does he want to be? Does he even have a choice?

He stares at her, trying to discern how he views her. When he looks at her, does he see an equal? Or does he see his spawn, his puppet, his favourite little toy to play with? He views both versions in parallel spaces of his mind. He cannot ascertain which one is him and which is the Vampire Ascendant.

“Consort. Partner. Girlfriend. Soulmate. Bride. Wife,” she repeats hollowly as if she’s saying the words without thinking about them, just a recording being played back, “None of them because we are none of those.”

“Perhaps not yet,” he retorts with a plea clinging to his voice. “You said you want something real, and I agreed to try and give you just that. Let me try.”

“Are you capable of love,” she whispers, eyes drifting down to the floor.

“I… don’t know,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re view of what love is may differ from mine, but perhaps we can meet in the middle?”

“When do we leave?” She asks dryly and slips her hand out of his, “And what do I wear?”

“I had something made for you,” he smirks. “It’s in your room. Wear it or don’t. The choice is yours.”

“You’re giving me a choice?”

"Darling," he drawls in an unemotional infection, “I admittedly do not know much about relationships, but I don’t think forcing you to wear something would be very… nice. You are free to dress yourself in whatever you wish.”

“What if I decide I wish to wear a burlap sack?”

“Well…” he cringes. Gods. He would not put it past her doing just that to prove a point. Would he let her do that? Could he? His skin crawls just thinking about it. “You would look very foolish, but if anyone can pull it off, it’s you.”

Hells below, he hopes she does not wear a sack.

Truthfully, he does want to control what she wears, where she goes, and even how she does her hair and makeup, but he does not understand why he is so drawn to it. He does not recall feeling the need to be so controlling when he was a spawn. He must quell those desires and untoward thoughts if he has any hope of showing her that he can be what she wants and needs.

Because he needs her…

He’s almost afraid to look when she walks down the hall, scared she’s going to see if he truly means what he said, but he’s elated to see she decided to wear the ensemble he had fashioned. An extravagant, high-necked navy-blue robe with delicate golden lace sleeves and a bodice embellished with dragon wings with gleaming rose-gold scales to match hers.

His coat is very close, except it is raven black, inlaid with deep purple and golden embroidered dragons revolving around his arms. His chest is embellished with dragon wings expanding across the breast.

“Dragons?” Her hand glides down the breast of his coat, “I thought you were fonder of bats.”

“It seems I have become rather smitten with dragons as of late,” he winks. He feigns puzzlement, bringing his finger to his lips, “I wonder why.”

She gives him some semblance of a smile. It’s the first time he’s seen any emotion in days. It fades quickly, and her face is once again a smooth plane of vacancy.

“What do you mean I will be uncomfortable?” She mutters, eyes fixed straight ahead as if looking at him pains her like staring directly at the sun. “You promised you would not put me in a situation I cannot handle.”

“And I won’t. You have my word.” He bows slightly, “There will be people around. If you need to leave, you say the word, and we will go. You know I could compel you not to feel that hunger…”

She scowls at him and hisses, “Do it, and I will walk out that door. I will not return.”

Well, even anger is better than emptiness.

“It is just an offer,” he nods curtly with his hands up. “I would not do it without your expressed permission. Shall we go?”

You follow Astarion, twisting down alleys and paths in the Lower City. You refuse to hold his hand and are attempting to use pure willpower to ignore all the tasty citizens scurrying about. They smell good, and it’s making your mouth water. No matter how much you eat, bloodlust is insatiable, unquenchable and never fully slumbers. There’s always this stitch in your side and a dryness to your throat that will not ebb. When you smell blood, you are immediately starved, and your stomach pinches in your belly. It could easily send you into hysterics. Astarion always keeps a close eye, sticking by your side and matching your pace instead of his usual elongated strides.

You recognize the alley with the guards and the secret door, “The guild?”

“The very one,” he nods with a cunning smirk.

“Lord Ancunin,” the guard bows low and stiff. “I see you have brought a guest.”

“Lady Ancunin,” Astarion drawls, confident and poised. If your heart was beating, it would surely have skipped beats and possibly stopped. “She is to be treated with the same respect as I. You are to follow her orders as you would follow mine. Is that clear?”

“So you command, so shall it be,” the guard bows low before you. “Lady Ancunin.”

You stare detached past the guard, barely noticing the reverent display before you. A welcome numbness has incorporated itself into your psyche. You felt so much, and now you feel nothing. You’re not sure which is worse.

“Come,” Astarion gestures to the stairs.

The Guildhall has been rebuilt with more extravagance. The walkways are now properly constructed and far less shabby looking with richly coloured wood. It is organized, not the haphazard mess you remember. There are so many hearts beating the chant of life. Their blood smells like Elysian fields teeming with ichor blossoms. Pressing your eyes shut, you try to tune out the thump, thump, thump assaulting your ears. You clutch Astarion’s hand and squeeze as hard as you can.

Yes, this will be a challenge.

Astarion senses your apprehension and squeezes your hand reassuringly, “We can leave whenever you want. I do not have to be here long.”

“You operate the Guild now?”

“Yes and no,” he grins, devilish and handsome enough to make you melt despite your discomfort. “Nine Fingers still handles the mundane day-to-day. You know I have never been a details person.”

“How did this come about?”

“Simple,” he smiles wolfish and sly. His eyes glint mischievously. “If you know the right people to coerce, anything can be taken. Grease a few palms here, blackmail some merchants there. You know how it is.”

“Coerce or kill?”

“Well, negotiations don’t always go as planned,” he chuckles with a cavalier shrug. “But I do not go around killing everyone, just those who need killing anyway. Gods. What do you think of me? I’ve been manipulating people for 200 years. This was hardly a challenge.”

“Ah, Lord Ancunin,” Nine Fingers strides up with a tight look as if she’s working hard not to frown. “How nice of you to bless us with your presence. I do not believe we have a meeting scheduled for today.”

“I’m here to make sure you’re running my,” Astarion accentuates the word with a low, threatening growl, “Guild befittingly. I received reports of your idiot pickpockets getting caught by the authorities and inconsistent yields. Do I need to appoint someone more suitable for such a role?”

“Lord Ancunin,” Nine Fingers snickers, and you wonder how he hasn’t killed this one yet. She was always snarky. “The pickpockets have been dealt with. They did not even make it to prison. As for the yields, I’m looking into it. You will not find anyone more proficient at running your guild than I.”

Astarion and Nine Fingers continue to talk business. Boring. You walk away, down the stairs and watch the people flitting about, ledgers in hand, counting shipments of what looks like silk from Cormyr and imported liquor. Others with clearly stolen pieces of art and other antiquities. The bottom of that cesspool pit has been cleaned up, and it appears new tunnels have been put in place, with more still being constructed.

You catch bits and pieces of a conversation between a short, rotund man in a burgundy coat speaking about a shipment being lost or damaged. Leaning on a railing, you watch the conversation play out with a shrewd eye for a while before you make your way over there. The closer you get to people, the harder it is to control yourself, but you’re getting better.

You sit close to the conversation so you can listen and watch. Nine Fingers sits beside you, “I remember you. Jaheria’s friend, right?” she gives you a scrutinizing once over and then her eyes finally settle on yours. “I remember you being much more… alive the last time you were here. The lords doing, I presume.”

“I wanted it,” you growl through your clenched jaw. “There is nothing further to discuss on it.”

“I’ve seen his little compulsion trick,” she says sourly. “It’s not a stretch to believe-“

You cut her off by grabbing her by the neck and pushing her up against a support beam. The rhythmical pulsing of her vein is felt on the pads of your fingers. Good Gods, you are tempted to take a nibble. Just a little sip...

No. You throw her away from you before you lose your precarious control.

“Watch your tongue,” you snarl, baring your teeth. “I am just as deadly as the lord.”

“Deadlier even.” Astarion chuckles, leaning close to your ear, “Are you okay?”

“I’m managing…” you whisper. Raising your voice, you point to the man, “Who is that?”

“A local merchant. He caters to the aristocracy.” Astarion arches a brow, “Why?”

“You were talking about inconsistent yields,” you watch the man circumspective, who now stares at you wide-eyed. “I think you will find he is the reason for some or all of your inconsistencies.” You sneer at the little fleshy liar, “Won’t we?"

“No,” Nine Fingers interjects. “That can’t be. He’s been working with the Guild for many years and is well-known and respected by the patriars. He’s an invaluable asset.”

“Silence!” Astarion orders brusquely, making her flinch. “Your superiors are having a discussion.” Astarion’s fingers come to his chin. “Go on, darling. How do you know?”

“His speech pattern is all over the place. He does not make direct eye contact. He’s fidgeting nervously. I can hear his heartbeat kick up from here every time he has to alter his story, and he’s sweating like a pig,” you smirk. You are good at this, and it feels natural. You give the man a grin as you virtually hear his heart sink, “You are a terrible liar. I think you’ve picked the wrong business.”

“Well,” Astarion cocks his head while watching the man as sweat rains down his face, “Let’s find out, shall we?” He points at the rotund traitor, “You. Come here.”

“Y-yes, Lord Ancunin.”

Astarion hauls the man into the air by his coat with an eerily cordial smile, “You’ve been stealing from me. Come clean now, and I will consider allowing you to keep your pathetic life.”

You expected to hear the anger in Astarion’s voice, but it’s matter-of-fact and impassive.

“My lord,” the man’s eyes widen, and his feet kick uselessly in the air. “I would never dream of it. Honest!”

Astarion’s eyes glow that wicked crimson of compulsion, and he brings the man close to his face, “You will tell me the truth. How long have you been stealing?”

The man’s eyes become glossy as the red tendrils of compulsion twist around him and into his mind. His body becomes limp. “I will tell the truth.” He repeats hollowly. “I have been skimming off the top for years. I misconstrue reported earnings and inventory, record shipments as lost or damaged and keep them for myself.”

The man continues spewing his transgressions, and you can see the rage start building in Astarion.

“That wasn’t so hard. Was it?” Astarion smiles manically. His eyes start to flash as he draws his dagger.

You put your hand on his shoulder, “Astarion…” You soothe and request the connection with his mind. You do not want to undermine him, but you need him to stay in control. He opens it, and you wince at the pain that splits through your head. It feels as if your skull has been cracked open. You push through it and roll your thoughts over the bridge, “His death will not gain you anything, Astarion. Hold onto yourself.”

His muscles strain under your fingers, and sweat starts to sheen his skin, but he answers in your thoughts, “His death would serve as a reminder to these insolent fucks that no one betrays the Vampire Ascendant and lives.”

“Astarion, please.”

“I am the Vampire Ascendant!” He bellows in your head so hard you wonder if your ears are bleeding, leaking your brain matter.

“Is that all you are? Is that your entire identity?”

He growls viciously aloud, snarling and turning his head to look at you with violence humming in his flickering eyes. With a pained grunt, Astarion throws the man on the ground and hisses, “Leave. If I ever see you in my city again, I will kill you and your family.”

Astarion whirls, taking your chin roughly in his fingers, bringing his mouth to yours, savage and hungry, with enough force to split and bruise your lips. You can hear that tittering in his head, straining against his control, trying to claim him. It bites like a serrated blade at your mind, and Astarion tries to close the connection to save you from that pain, but you rue against it.

“Don’t,” you think. “I can be your light. I can help you, but you have to let me.”

His fingers curl into your hair, and his tongue laps at the blood smeared across your lips, sucking on the cut gently. Your fingers caress the back of his neck. You’re not exactly sure how you do it, but as if on instinct, you flood Astarion with every iota of your love, light and fire into his psyche, upending the darkness and silencing his demons.

His body relaxes. His fingers no longer grip aggressively but embrace, and he breaks the kiss, resting his forehead on yours as he pants. As your senses return to you, so does the angelic chorus of beating hearts and the enticing smell of blood, and you clench your jaw as your stomach does cartwheels in your abdomen. Your fingernails incise your palm.

“I’ve got you, my treasure.” Astarion interlocks his fingers with yours to stop you. “Hold onto me.”

Astarion turns to Nine Fingers. She’s staring at you with a speculatively arched brow, “We will be taking our leave now. I expect to see improved totals on your subsequent report, or we will have a very unpleasant discussion, and if any more pickpockets get caught, you will not be calling yourself Nine Fingers any longer. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Lord Ancunin,” she nods curtly with a twisted mouth and narrowed eyes. “Do bring your spawn along more often. She is incredibly useful, it seems.”

Astarion roars, slamming Nine Fingers against a wooden column, splitting it. He bellows when he speaks, making sure everyone can hear him, “No one is to call her “spawn.” If I hear anyone utter that word in reference to her, I will hang them from the rafters by their intestines while they still draw breath.” Astarion looks around with a frightening scowl, verifying everyone is paying attention, “She is my right hand, and you will treat her with due respect. Any orders from her should be treated as if they are coming from me directly.”

“Astarion,” you whimper, scratching lacerations into the top of your hand to keep yourself grounded. “I need to go.”

He releases Nine Fingers, spins and grabs your hand. He keeps a tight hold on you until you’re back in the alley. He orders the guards to stand further away. You sprint to the dead end and grip a fence as hard as you can, taking in large gasps of air to try and quiet the bloodlust ravaging your mind, bullying you into mania. Astarion’s hands come to the rail on either side of you, caging you in with his chest pressed against your back.

“You did well in there,” he purrs. “Controlling the bloodlust.”

“You could have warned me that I would want to eat everyone with a beating heart,” you groan, leaning into him.

“I suppose I could have been a tad more forthcoming,” he chuckles, kissing the top of your head. “To be fair, I was a young spawn centuries ago. It’s not exactly fresh in my mind.”

“How did you learn to control it?” you sigh. You’re falling into him again, slipping into that blissful completeness that melts that icy numbness keeping you sane.

There’s a quiver of torment that dithers across the harmony. “Cazador…” he starts, spoken with a desolate undertone. He folds his arms around you, holding you close, and he trembles, “Cazador would starve me and then have people stand in the kennels while I was chained or caged. He would cut them, small at first, but gradually worse. They would get progressively closer. If I made a move or lost control in any way, I would be punished. Severely.” He pauses with a sigh, and his brows turn down at the sides. “I lost control a lot.”

By the Gods. You would not have been able to understand how torturous that would be without being a vampire yourself. Bloodlust hurts, a physical pain that progressively gets steadily worse until you are nothing but a writhing, rabid animal with no semblance of sentience.

“Astarion…” you turn to him, wrapping your arms around him. “That’s… Gods, there are no words. I’m so sorry.”

“Come,” he clears his throat, uncomfortable with the emotion as if he does not believe he deserves your empathy. “Let’s go home.”

“Thank you for telling me.” You murmur, hoping you’re not overstepping, “About… him. I know you don’t like to talk about it.”

“Partners talk about this type of stuff openly, yes?”

“I…” you balk at the question. It seems so out of character for him. You expected him to ignore you or scold you for bringing it up further. “I suppose they do, but-“

“Yes,” he cuts you off. “I know what we aren’t. You keep reminding me every chance you get. You requested real and real you shall have. I never wanted you to see that side of me.” Astarion sighs and looks at the setting sun reverently, his face softening, a glimpse of his former self, “Cazador is no longer an off-limits topic for you.”

What?

Can you trust him not to fly into a blind rage when you speak of his former self, the pathetic spawn he is so genuinely disgusted with? Perhaps this is not the time to test the limits of this newfound freedom.

“Lady Ancunin?” You quirk a brow at him. “That’s not my name.”

“Not as of yet, it’s not,” his arm wraps around your waist, and a smile flashes over his face like wintry sunshine. He whispers, “You bear my name beautifully, my love.”

Your eyelashes flutter open, and you’re shocked to be in the familiar halls of the Crimson Palace, but it does not appear as you remember it. Everything is washed in a drab sepia tone, and you blink, trying to clear your vision. The walls and floors appear to wave as if they are an illusion. Servants blink in and out of existence as they flit around. You try to walk in the way of them, waving your arms to get their attention, but they pay you no heed, blinking out and reappearing behind you.

A scream you would recognize anywhere reverberates through the ghostly halls, shrill and bone-chilling.

Astarion…

You sprint toward the sound, descending the dark staircase two or three steps at a time that appears to end in a black well of nothingness. You’re trying to grip the weave and call on your magic, but when you reach for it, you find nothing but a yawning void where it should be. Staring at your palm, you shake it, confused, as you burst into the hall leading to the spawn quarters. Another cry echoes. You forget about your lack of magic as horror grips your heart, and you sprint around the corner and halt dead in your tracks.

Astarion stands in the hallway. He’s hunched over with hands pressed against the doorframe as he stares distantly into the room before him - the kennels. He is the only thing in undulled, vivid colour. It’s a stark contrast to the atmosphere of mousy undertones.

“Astarion?”

He jolts, whirling and staring at you with a disoriented tangle of sorrow and perplexity. His jaw tightens, and his eyes shift quickly from side to side, “No,” he mutters, shaking his head, “No, this isn’t right. You would not have been here.”

“What’s going on?” You sputter, voice breaking. “I don’t understand.”

Another strident shriek. You are stirred into action, dashing down the hall at full speed. Astarion’s eyes widen as he gauges your target, and he takes long steps to cut you off. His arm wraps around your waist, hauling you backward from the open doorway.

“No, darling,” he coos, trying to swath his voice in velvet. “You don’t want to go in there. Please, trust me on this.”

“What?” You’re panicked, clawing at him, trying to push his arms away. “I can’t just stand here! Let me go!”

“You can’t help him… Me. You can’t help me.” Astarion rasps. His eyes are sad, but he tries to smile. “This is long over and done. It’s a memory - my memory.”

Anguished wailing reverberates, making the walls appear to shudder. You can’t take it, you can’t fucking take it, and you push out of Astarion’s arms and charge into the kennels.

The scene that greets you makes tears instantly flow down your cheeks, and you can’t help but dry heave as your stomach shoots into your throat.

“That’s right, my boy.” Cazador snickers, compulsion glowing in his eyes, tendrils stirring the air. “Sing those sweet, sweet cries for me.”

You try to grab Cazador, screaming in anguish, but your hand swishes straight through the apparition. Arms come around your waist, hauling you up and out of the room while you reach and clamber, trying to do something. Anything.

Astarion sets you down, folding his arms around you, “Shhh, little love,” he purrs. “It will be alright.”

“Astarion,” you sob, knees quaking. Astarion braces you against himself, “What in the Hells is happening?”

“I’m not entirely sure. We are tranced, in the manor, I think. This... it already happened long ago. So long, I cannot even recall the colours anymore.”

His thumb clears the rivulets of tears storming down your cheeks so sweetly, like the whisper of a fairy dream. His eyes, so intensely crimson, are doting, inviting you to get lost in them.

Another soul-crushing outcry discharges from the room, and you can’t help but scream with him. Astarion firmly but gently places his hands over your ears, trying to provide you amnesty from the howling cries.

You lean into him and beg, tugging on his clothes, “Make it stop, Astarion. Good Gods. Make it stop. Please. I can’t… I can’t… Wake us up.”

“I’m trying,” he breathes faintly, pressing harder on your ears as another jarring yowl rolls over you, and you start slipping to the floor in a puddle of sorrow.

Everything dissolves around you, turning black and silent, and you’re pitched into a bottomless void that makes your stomach lurch.

You thrash in your bed, convulsing so violently that you throw yourself to your hands and knees on the floor with a discordant shriek. Your bedsheets and clothes are soddened with sweat, the delicate fabric clinging to your body, and you tremble so turbulently that you can barely push yourself to your feet.

You blink rapidly, trying to see through the distortion caused by unshed tears. Your chest heaves in quick, rapid breaths as you sprint into the hallway. Astarion is already running toward you, and you slam into his arms as your legs give way.

“It’s okay,” he comforts you with a soft, deep baritone, a salve to your pain. “Everything is alright.”

Your mind sees that gruesome vision, a ghostly layer veiling the man before you. Your stomach twists and knots. Saliva floods your mouth. Pushing out of his hold, you scramble away as far as you can, and your liquid dinner is a sanguine spill spreading across the floor. Astarion holds your hair back and rubs your back as you continue to dry heave between your rapid breaths.

“I’m sorry,” you choke out between sobs.

“It is I who should be sorry,” he sits on the chaise, beckoning you into his arms. You curl up in his lap once the wave of nausea eases, desperate to be close to him. Astarion strokes your arm, “I left the connection open. I did not know you could get transported into my dreams. I will not make that mistake again.”

You look up, cupping his cheek in your palm and searching his eyes. That beautiful face is calm and carpeted with earnest affection but otherwise unfazed while he sweeps strands of your hair behind your ear, “Are you okay?”

“My sweet, sweet girl,” he kisses your palm. “I have relived many of my memories hundreds of times over. There are only a few that truly disturb me anymore. Thank you for asking, but I am fine.”

“Okay...” you breathe deeply, unsure if your mind can accept how undaunted he is. The last remnants of your weeping shudder through your body, “I’ll clean that up.”

Pushing yourself away from him is a monumental task. He is warm like sunshine and comforting like darkness. You hate him a little for being so… him.

“Will you come to bed?” Astarion looks at you longingly. “ Our bed, I mean.”

“No.”

“When are you going to stop punishing me?” He laments, following you while you grab a rag and bucket of soapy water from the rarely used kitchen.

“I’m not punishing you for anything, Astarion.”

“Bullshit.” He exclaims sourly. “Do not think me blind. You’ve been ignoring and avoiding me purposefully. I- I miss you.” Astarion’s arms fall limp at this side, “Tell me how to make it right.”

You hand Astarion a cup, “Break this.”

His brows pinch as he turns the cup over and over. He looks at you, confused, but throws it to the floor, shattering it. “What was the point of that?”

“Now, fix it.”

“I have many mind-blowing abilities,” he stares at the shattered pieces strewn across the floor, brows pinched. “Fixing broken goblets is not one of them.”

“Because not everything can be fixed."

You start wiping up your sick in the tense muteness between you and Astarion. He sits on the chaise, just watching with a grief-stricken expression that makes you want to weep.

“I can run up walls, walk upside down on ceilings, turn into a bat and mist, among other things. All this power…” A low laugh rumbles in his chest, crestfallen and mournful. “All this fucking power,” he clenches his fists, craning his head to look up at the ceiling, “and I still cannot have the one thing in the world I want most.” He sighs, shaking his head. Astarion cocks his head to look at you and smiles bleakly, “Sleep tight, my love.”

Astarion disappears into his room, and you bite your tongue to stifle your crying. After you’ve finished cleaning up and are back in your bed, you toss restlessly. How long will this harrowing purgatory go on? You take deep breaths, but it does not even begin to fill the void in your chest. You are fragmented without him in your head or against your skin. As if you’re soul has deformed, warped and splintered into a mangled husk.

This is why you’ve been avoiding Astarion. His words tear your heart open, dissect it, and then you must stitch yourself up anew. How many times can your chest be torn open and your heart ripped to pieces before the scarps are too small to glue back together?

I don’t care.

I don’t care.

I don’t care.

Who the fuck am I kidding?

In the hall, you jump at the sight of Astarion halfway up the long corridor. He halts, and you stare at each other in reticence. His hair is a disarrayed jumble of soft silver curls. The moonlight streaming in from the windows brilliantly sets the ivory skin of his bared chest aglow. His shoulders are slumped in a disconsolate stature you’re not used to seeing on him. The iron countenance and steely confidence he oozes are absent.

“Love,” he whispers wearily. “Lay with me tonight.” Astarion gestures toward himself, splaying his hand on his bare chest. Desperation clings to his voice, “Be with me. We can workshop the details as we go.”

“Tell me you love me,” you say, moon-eyed, lips quivering.

“I-I,” he pauses. Anticipation clenches your heart in your chest. Please, you think, please just fucking say it so we can stop playing this game. You think he just might until he grimaces. “I can’t.”

“No. Of course, you can’t,” you mewl. You wrap yourself in your comfortable cloak of numbness to preserve your sanity, “Because how could you love a lowly spawn like my good self?”

He does not answer, and that is answer enough.

You’re crouched low in a dark alley, skulking around in the shadows in the Lower City. Astarion went out to deal with some business you were not invited to, so you’ve taken the chance to survey the tavern you last saw that purple-haired bitch at - Elowyn. Your intuition tells you she has something to do with the Gur attacks, regardless of Astarion’s assurances that she’s harmless. The earth-shatteringly handsome man can be blinded by his overconfidence at times.

You’re not sure what Astarion will do if he gets home and you’re nowhere to be found, but you left him a note saying you went for a walk. He probably won’t tear the city apart looking for you. You’re not a caged bird. You can come and go as you please.

... Right?

You’re about to give up for the night when you see her. She glances out the tavern doors, askant, surveying her surroundings before pulling up her hood and slinking down the street. Elowyn takes an oddly winding route, up and down dark alleys and paths, often doubling back. She strolls confidently but takes acute notice of her surroundings. She is practiced and methodical in the way she observes. You should have eaten her when she cornered you with her singsong voice and dainty little face, spewing filth and lies. Maybe you should eat her now…

No, no. You can eat her after you figure out what she’s up to. You smile sadistically at the promise to yourself, licking your lips. You will eat her when you’ve ascertained how she means to harm your master.

Gods. Where did that thought come from?

Elowyn turns abruptly down a side street. Casting Misty Step, you appear on a roof, crouch at the edge and watch her intently. She walks up and down the pathway, looking in all directions except up, much to your delight.

Hardly anyone looks up.

She leans down and opens the entrance to the sewers, climbing down and replacing the cover. The sewers… You fucking hate the sewers. It’s the last place you want to follow her, but nothing can deter you.

This place is a maze of tunnels and run-offs. It’s an arduous task to track her with any degree of certainty. The rayless, glum passageways look similar, but you glimpse her here and there. Her course is consistent with the streets above as she makes arbitrary turns left and right, retracing her steps before continuing. It makes you question if she spotted you and is just taking you on a wild goose chase for shits and giggles, but it’s doubtful. There is purpose in Elowyn’s steps, even if you’re not quite able to understand it yet.

Elowyn steps onto the wooden platform, pulls the lever, and floats up the nauseating river of excrement and contamination. You recognize the area she is going to by smell alone. She’s heading into the lowest floors of the ruined temple under the Crimson Palace. You frown. You’ve been all through those lower, ravaged corridors.

You used to try and hide from Astarion down there, but he always found you. You shudder at the memories of playing some sick, twisted version of hide and seek, where the consequences were more dire than being tagged “it.”

What could be down there that’s of any interest to her? Does Astarion know? Is that where he set the Drow up to do her assessments? Unlikely. He would not want Araj that close to home.

There’s a barely perceptible shift in the atmosphere. The chilled air starts to warm unnaturally, embers floating around. Your skin prickles as the hair on the back of your neck and arms rises. You smell the smoky stench and pollution of sulphur crawling through the air. It stings your nostrils, twisting in the back of your nose and down your throat, choking you. A liquid black maw opens in the stone before your feet, and the inky, viscid silhouette emerges from the gaping orifice, taking shape and wings stretching with a boastful flare.

You jump backward, filling yourself with the Weave, heating your palms and skin with spells dancing on your fingertips and primed on your tongue.

“Darling,” a toothy grin greets you. “Now, now, Sorceress. Put those spells of yours to rest. Is that any way to greet an old friend?”

“Mizora.”  

Big thank you for everyone who takes the time to read/reblog/comment, and all the other magnificent things. As always, I hope you enjoy this, darlings!

AO3 [Crossposted]

Master List of Chapters: Fangs and Fractured Hearts

If you're interested I write another fic with Spawn Astarion x Tav called - Shadows of the Past

Small Notes:

It's never a good sign when Mizora shows up. We are getting into the thick of it now :)

[little-box-of-autism]

My Opinion on Spider

@peachycrime asked for this, so....

Anyways, buckle up because I ain't gonna hold back, and I'm going to be as brutal as winter in Nunavut.

Let's start off with the obvious;

Spider is sixteen years old.

He is a child, and as such, should not be expected to be held to the same standards as an adult.

But more over - and I know some might disagree with me on this - Spider is a child that was neglected and thus abused because neglect is abuse, and I'm not touching on the shit with Neytiri just yet.

The clearest example of Spider's neglect is the scene where Spider is running from Hell's Gate, the first one we see him as a kid rather than a toddler or teenager. Spider is at best seven in this scene, and yet he is allowed to run into the Pandoran jungle (because from the comics and other sources, we know that while the Omatikaya is close to Hell's Gate, it isn't beside it) unattended despite the fact that the jungle is dangerous even to an adult na'vi, let alone a human child who could feasibly die just by tripping over a rock and falling in a way that could damage or dislodge his mask, which he relies on to breathe.

If Spider had fallen, if his mask had been damaged or dislodged, there was no one there to help him.

There is a wooded area near my house that is filled with trails and is generally considered pretty safe, but I still wouldn't let my seven-year cousins (who don't rely on a mask to breathe) run around in there unattended.

Already Spider's hair is beginning to mat (they are mats, not dreads) and there is no way that the adults weren't aware of it, which means they allowed it.

Now let's get onto some other things I've noticed throughout the movie (and the comics, though I'm mostly focusing on the movie.)

"Stray Cat" is what Jake refers to Spider as, and I don't know if this may just be me, and my ASD, but I find calling/comparing a child to a stray cat to be dehumanizing, and maybe it's purposeful because it's a lot easier to ignore the neglect of a "stray cat" then a child.

Spider from the moment he is captured is very aware of the fact that there will be no attempt to save him which is devastating because even with the knowledge that a rescue from Bridgehead is improbable, the clear lack of hope in Spider is very telling in how he views his worth and value.

Jake, someone who was in the military and worked for the RDA, however briefly, would be aware, at least to some degree, of what would be done to Spider in order to get information, and he does not actually express any concern for Spider's wellbeing or safety, only thinking about what Spider could possibly tell the RDA.

Despite how close the younger three Sully kids are to Spider, they never express any worry or concern for Spider openly in front of their parents. Do I think that they were worried about Spider? Yes, but I do also think they knew they couldn't express this concern in front of their parents, specifically Neytiri.

The only adult who shows any real concern for Spider during the vast majority of the movie is Quaritch despite him technically having the least reason for why he should be concerned for Spider. As Quaritch states, he isn't the same Miles Quaritch that was Spider's father, and unlike Jake, Norm, Neytiri, or Max, he didn't watch Spider grow up. His connection to Spider is minimal in comparison to other adults in Spider's life, and yet he is the one who shows Spider the most care.

Now onto the matter of Neytiri, I can understand her reasons and I can empathize with her trauma, but she is an adult who is punishing a child who has not done anything to her besides exist. We wouldn't condone this in real life and to me, trying to excuse her actions is troubling to me because of the message it sends to people that have gone through something similar. You can still empathize with Neytiri and the trauma she suffered while acknowledging that her actions towards Spider are wrong. Trauma is a reason, but it isn't an excuse and as an adult, it is on Neytiri, not Spider, to manage her trauma.

We also have to consider how her actions affect her relationships with her children, specifically Kiri and Lo'ak.

Kiri is the most obvious, she and Spider share a very close bond that is displayed both in the comics and in the movies, and Kiri has argued with Neytiri over her treatment of Spider. This obviously would put a level of strain on their mother-daughter relationship, especially when you take into account that Kiri often feels 'othered' and considers Spider to be one of the few people who not only understands her but also does not judge or think differently of her.

With Lo'ak it's more nuanced but Neytiri's constant hatred towards Spider due to him being a 'demon' very likely has an effect on Lo'ak who already clearly has issues with his 'demon' blood that sets him apart from other na'vi.

In the end (because I need to end this somewhere before it just becomes a never ending rant) Spider is a child who was neglected and abused for who his father is, and his action of saving Quaritch is completely understandable in light of the fact that Quaritch is the first adult who took care of Spider and had - in Spider's eyes - saved him from death twice now.

One last time I want to make one thing clear;

Spider said "don't hurt her."

Kiri said "don't kill him."

And I cannot shake the fact that at that moment Kiri genuinely believed that her mother was capable of killing her best friend and was pleading for Spider's life.

If that doesn't bother you deeply, then I don't think you are ready for these types of discussions.

Now I am open to discussing my opinion in a mature conversation, but I will not tolerate dramatics nor will I entertain blatant ignorance. If you cannot engage in discussions with at least some level of maturity and willingness to understand different perspectives, don't engage at all.

[nterini]

In Defense of Hira - A textbook case of C-PTSD caused by Childhood Abuse and Neglect

In a lot of the shows that I watch, especially with teens or young adults relating to trauma, or any genre really, there’s always a playful question on my mind: where are their parents? However, at this point in show, it’s becoming so much more apparent that the lack of support Hira received growing up, is fundamental to the way that he sees himself and his position in the world around him. So much so that as much as I want to joke about Hira being as dense as a stone wall, I find myself becoming increasingly uncomfortable in how much my own trauma and reactions to isolation mirror Hira’s.

Symptoms of complex PTSD

Feelings of worthlessness, shame and guilt.

Problems controlling your emotions.

Finding it hard to feel connected with other people.

Relationship problems, like having trouble keeping friends and partners. (Source: NHS)

How was Hira Traumatized?

He was left to his own defenses at an early age and had to fend for himself. Just because they provided him with a house and money for food doesn’t mean they took care of him. He was also bullied for a speech impediment and isolated by his peers as a result. He’s probably never had anyone listen to him closely or had close emotional or physical relationships in his life. Extended periods of neglect in childhood and then more intense isolation later on is extremely damaging.

Trauma manifests differently. Before therapy, it was really difficult for me to wrap my head around the fact that I wasn’t actually invisible to friends and family. It took a quite aggressive and embarrassing event, (now funny and touching really) for me to understand that if I deviated from my own patterns or if I disappeared or didn’t contact people for hours that people would actually miss me or think about me. I went out and watched a movie after an event, and told one person through text. After the two hour movie, I turned my phone back on and found 30 missed calls. My mother had informed me that she had called the police and that the principal had formed a search party for me. My face was plastered all over Snapchat by my classmates.  I was mortified by what I believed to be a waste of resources and time on my behalf. Such a loud display of love and even then all I could think about was hiding away and making myself smaller. I wasn’t even decent enough to acknowledge the pain, worry, and fear they felt at the thought that someone they loved went missing. It took multiple years later: a very a tentative mother and aunt, very involved teachers, mentors and friends plus therapy for me to stop feeling like a ghost. To get out of my own head and stop trying to fade in the background as a coping mechanism. After being abandoned by his mother to live alone in a house so she could be with the family she wants, after being isolated by his classmates for having a stutter all throughout high school, only one person knocked loudly enough at the door attached to the fortress Hira built in his mind to cope with his trauma. Kiyoi.

That mental fortress is why Hira is alive today. It kept him safe when he had to sleep in the dark alone as a young boy when he had to cook his own meals. His social ineptitude is due to years of isolation and degradation by those around him. He wasn’t deemed worthy enough by his own mother to be taken care of. Yet Kiyoi loves and sees him. Kiyoi says his name and holds his hand and kisses him and suddenly Hira is solid mass. Not a shadow on the wall or the useless child not worth keeping. He becomes slightly more than nothing. In Hira’s mind he becomes a pebble. Sigh. Well it’s a start. But it’s not enough. It’s gonna take a real miracle for Hira to overcome years of trauma and see himself as a human being. I believe in him though. He’s so brave. No like really though, some of the shit he says is so cringey it takes real guts. Kiyoi is not going to give up on Hira anytime soon he’s too much of an exhibitionist for Hira and a freak (endearingly). Also, Hira is obsessive and intense, so they’re a perfect match.

He just needs proper counseling and a bit of time. I’m rooting for them.

[tbrxnnan]

1 step forward, 3 steps back | e.m.

summary: in which your relationship with your boyfriend, eddie munson, is strained after he had gone missing for a week after being the main suspect in chrissy cunningham’s murder and he himself nearly dying. based off the the song from sour by olivia rodrigo.

warnings: trauma, toxic relationship, emotional abuse (?), unhappy / bittersweet ending, slight fluff, lots of angst, eddie is kinda mean

word count: 7,114

—————————————————————————

whatever had happened to eddie the week he went missing had truly traumatized him. he, nor the rest of the group, would actually tell you what had happened. you didn’t know about the upside down, vecna, the demogorgons, anything associated with the upside down, and they intended to keep it that way. eddie had come back extremely hurt, his body covered in wounds, but you never left his side. you never left his side when he would tell you that you deserved better and to just leave. you never left his side when he would yell in pain as he healed. you never left his side when he would try to push you away. you knew what happened must’ve been serious but you never pushed eddie to tell you. you simply were there for him and reminded him how much you loved him.

as time went on, your relationship with eddie had gotten more and more strained. even though he was dropped of all charges for chrissy’s murder and was back at school, it was hard for him. he saw the way people stared at him, still whispering how he was the real killer. he just wanted to graduate and get the hell out of hawkins. naturally, because of his trauma and the entire incident, he started to become more closed off, more angry, and even then, you stayed by his side the entire time. every time he yelled at you, you never dared to think about breaking up with him, because the next moment or the next day eddie would be so doting and loving with you. you couldn’t bare the idea of leaving him. you wanted to get out of hawkins with him, help him leave all the pain and bullshit in the past.

you had called him at his trailer to check in on him as he hadn’t shown up for school that day. sometimes he takes a day off of school when needed, typically because he got no sleep the night before and just refused to get out of bed. on days that he doesn’t go to school you usually don’t go to the trailer, opting instead to give him space and rest, so you call instead. the phone rang a few times before eddie had answered, and he was grumpy.

“what do you want?” he sighed. you swallowed, not wanting to say anything to upset him further.

“just wanted to check in on you and see how you’re feeling,” you said softly as you wrapped the phone cord around your fingers.

“i’m fine,” he said flatly.

you stayed silent for a second.

“would you like me to bring over some grilled cheese and tomato soup from ruby’s diner?” you were bracing yourself for a rude answer.

“no, now leave me alone. i just want to relax!” he snapped before hanging up.

your eyes were glossy. you just wanted to check in on him and weren’t expecting him to be having such a bad day. the worst part of it all is that eddie doesn’t register when he gets mean or grumpy. you don’t dare bring it up because you didn’t want to fight with him and you understood he was going through a lot. he nearly died and had multiple murders pinned on him. it’s understandable that he would have bad days and struggle, you would never hold it against him. so you just swallow your emotions. you let him take out his frustrations on you, and when others in your group would notice and tell you it’s not okay, you’d say it was fine since he never lays a hand on you. you say he’s just having a bad day and that the next day he’d be back to his normal self. you said it was okay.

when eddie showed up to school the next day he was still grumpy. you sat at your usual seat at the hellfire table and waited for eddie to initiate the conversation, sometimes he just wanted silence. he didn’t even acknowledge you by his side as he started a conversation with gareth about music. the other boys were enveloped in conversations of their own so you sat there quietly, barely eating your lunch. you rested your hand on his hand that was on the table and started to rub circles on the top of his hand. you felt his body tense under yours. he removed his hand from yours and your heart dropped. you knew he was grumpy but you hated when he would detach from you.

“i’m sorry,” you say quietly before pulling your hand back to your lap.

“i didn’t ask for you to touch me,” he scoffed.

you didn’t reply, just simply nodded your head. you spent the rest of lunch in silence, not looking up from your hands on your lap. when the bell rang, you got up from your seat and bid a quiet goodbye to the boys next to you, but not to eddie. you don’t want to anger him any more than he had been. you were not surprised when he didn’t give you a hug or a kiss and didn’t say goodbye or offer to walk you to your next class. you walked alone to your locker to grab your textbook, eyeing the jocks walking at the end of the hall. you braced yourself for their cruel comments today. most likely some bullshit about your relationship with eddie.

“hey, freak,” jason said casually as he stood next to your locker.

you placed what you needed in your backpack and looked anywhere but jason’s face. when you didn’t reply he slammed the locker shut, a loud echo ringing in the halls. no matter how many times he had done this to you, it scared you every single time, making you flinch back against the cold metal lockers.

“answer me when i talk to you,” he spoke coldly, lifting your chin up with his pointer finger to stare at your face.

“i’m sorry,” you stuttered out, tears welling in your eyes.

“such a joke, isn’t it, that your own boyfriend doesn’t even want you around. a pity,” he chuckled.

“he— he’s just having a bad day, is all,” you mumbled. your heart was racing and your chest was heavy because deep down you knew he was right. you flinched at the contact of jason’s thumb wiping the tears from your cheek.

“are you sure? it sure does seem like he doesn’t love you..” he cooed. “he’s just keeping you around out of decency,” he spoke, his hot breath on your face.

when he stepped back you had noticed that you had barely been breathing. your knees wanted to give out and you felt how wet your cheeks were. jason being a prick to you wasn’t something new, but it definitely got worse since eddie’s accident. you had definitely accounted the fact that chrissy last being seen at eddie’s trailer and now she was dead had to do with it. jason was just trying to get a rise out of you, to push you and have eddie watch, knowing eddie wouldn’t do anything about it. your body shook as you made your way to the bathroom. you splashed cold water on your face and tried to settle your breathing. when you looked at yourself in the mirror you could barely recognize yourself. your eyes were bloodshot, your cheeks puffy, your hair a mess. all you wanted was eddie’s embrace. you wanted him to kiss you over and over, telling you how much he loved you. you wanted him to make you laugh and just hold you. it took you a couple minutes to brace yourself before making it to your next class late, but you honestly couldn’t care about being tardy.

by the time the end of the day rolled around you didn’t wait up for eddie to give you a ride home. you didn’t want to be a burden and didn’t want a fight. you found the pay phone near the parking lot and called family video, praying that steve would answer. his friday shift would be ending and you were hoping he’d swing by afterwards to give you a ride home since he lived near yours. you watched afar as eddie climbed into his van, throwing his backpack into the passenger seat.

“family video, the place to go for all things movies. how may i help you today?” steve’s voice sounded through the phone.

“hey, steve. it’s me, can you pick me up today? i’ll wait in the lot,” you plead as your fingers drum against your thigh in nerves.

“oh, sweets. of course i can. give me twenty minutes, okay? i just have to clock out and then i’ll drive to you,” he said softly.

“thank you, i’ll make sure to give you gas money,” you reply, only to be told by steve that it wasn’t necessary and he’d get you soon.

you sat on a bench and waited for steve, the cool breeze nipping at your body. you pulled out a copy of lord of the rings from your backpack and sighed. lord of the rings was eddie’s favorite and he used to read it to you. you’d lay in his bed, your head resting on his lap. he’d have one hand on the book and the other on you. he’d switch between running his fingers up and own your arm or playing with your hair. you hadn’t been read to since eddie’s accident and was determined to finish that darn book. you had gotten attached to samwise gamgee, he reminded you a lot of eddie. it was really hard to focus on reading, your mind thinking about eddie and wondering when he’d go back to being loving eddie. it was kind of masochistic, really, which was embarrassing to admit. you did find it exciting to know which lover you’d experience from day to day. sometimes you’d get mean eddie, sometimes loving eddie, sometimes insecure and sad eddie, it would change often. sometimes he’d walk you to your door after driving you home and giving you a soft goodnight kiss, sometimes he’d have you find your own way home while crying, sometime’s he’d hang up the phone while you were talking, sometimes he’d bring you flowers as a surprise, sometimes he’d tell you that you were the reason he was so miserable. you still wouldn’t leave him, you knew he loved you, he was just having a hard time. every time you guys would make one step forward in progress, you’d end up taking three steps back. an endless cycle.

it wasn’t long before steve had pulled up, only a handful of cars littered the parking lot. steve looked at you sadly before calling your name to come to his car. you smiled when you saw his face and in no time were buckled in the passenger seat. he was still wearing his uniform and blondie was playing quietly from the radio. blondie was one of your favorites. you instantly felt comfortable and laid your head against the window, sighing in content.

“thanks again, stevie,” you said sincerely.

“you don’t need to thank me, ya know. that’s what friends are for. plus you shouldn’t have to walk home,” he said nonchalantly as he focused on the road.

it was silent for a few minutes, a comfortable silence. steve kept thinking about bringing up eddie’s behavior but he could tell you just weren’t in the right mindset. he let you relax as the music played quietly. as much as steve loved being friends with eddie and having him around, he was upset at how eddie would treat you. it wasn’t fair that he took everything out on you. it wasn’t long until steve had pulled up in front of your house, clearing his throat softly to alert you you’re at your house. you didn’t want to leave the comfort of his car but you mustered up all of your energy to unbuckle and grab your stuff.

“thanks again for the ride,” you smiled as you opened the door. “have a great night, stevie,” you spoke and waved goodbye. you were exhausted from the week and so glad it was the weekend.

you woke up the next morning to pitter patter sounds on your window, indicating that eddie was tossing rocks at your window. you smiled and jumped out of bed, eager to see your boyfriend. you were wearing a pair of night shorts and one of his old band shirts. when you got to the window you saw eddie waving at you from the sidewalk. he was wearing his usual reeboks, a pair of black ripped skinny jeans, a metallica shirt and his leather jacket. you waste no time opening your window and smiling at eddie.

“hi, lover boy,” you cooed, resting on your elbows.

“hi, sweetheart. are you gonna let me in?” he spoke, a hand on his hip. his hair blew slightly in the wind.

“mm, i didn’t hear a please,” you fake pout.

“please, babe, will you let your boyfriend who misses you so much into your humble abode? i hear he really wants a kiss,” he replied as he rocked on his heels.

you giggled and nodded your head. you signaled for him to climb through your window. eddie never really came in through your front door, he’d always climb through your window instead. 99% of the time he’d trip over his foot when he was basically fully in your room, which you found absolutely adorable. you couldn’t help but feel butterflies in your stomach as you watched eddie fumble into your bedroom and walk towards you. he wrapped his arms around you and you immediately melted into his touch. you wrapped your arms around him and laid your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat as he rubbed your back in circles. you’d live like this forever if you could.

“i’m glad you stopped by,” you spoke.

“well there’s nothing better to do than hang out with my favorite girl on this lovely saturday, now is there?” he replied and walked over to your bed.

he plopped himself down, pulling you with him. he chuckled as you yelped and pulled you closer to him, as if it was even possible. you wouldn’t dare admit it to eddie, but the back and forth really did mess with you. not even yesterday you were questioning if eddie loved you, if he wanted you, if he had hated you. but he was in your bed, he was holding you. he called you his favorite girl. he said he missed you. you told yourself of course eddie loved you. you hadn’t noticed you’d been stuck in your thoughts until you heard eddie clear his throat.

“what’s got you in your head, pretty girl?” he asked softly.

“mm, nothing. just a little tired still is all,” you replied. you weren’t completely lying, you were tired. you felt big emotions every time eddie was mean to you and it really drained you, especially because you bottled your feelings instead of talk to others about it. you didn’t get the greatest night of sleep, but it didn’t matter now. now, eddie was with you.

“i’m sorry i woke you up. why don’t we sleep a little more, hm?” he questioned as he moved some of your hair behind your ear, which sent warm fuzzies up your spine.

you hum happily in response and move to a more comfortable position. you were always the little spoon when you guys slept. eddie moved his body to rest against yours, like two puzzle pieces fitting perfectly together. one of his arms wrapped around your waist to tug you closer while his other went under your pillow. you didn’t know when eddie had taken off his shoes but he did, slightly tapping your foot to let you know to bring the blankets over your body. the navy duvet laid across you both and helped envelop the warmth radiating from eddie’s body to yours. you had craved eddie’s touch for a few days and felt bliss now that he was holding you in bed. you didn’t care about anything else in the world in the moment. you appreciated how eddie’s legs had intertwined in yours, how he was rubbing circles on your hip under your night shirt, how his breath felt against your cheek, how he was showering you with love and comfort.

you had woken up a couple hours later, eddie’s arms still wrapped around yours. he was still asleep so you moved as calmly as you could so you were facing his body. he stirred the slightest bit and his grip on your body tightened. you looked at eddie as he slept. his lips were parted, some curls stuck to his forehead, his cheek smushed into your pillow. he looked angelic, ethereal. you were so in love with him. you brought up your hand to move some of his hair behind his ear and smiled. he was beautiful, your beautiful boy. eddie had a hard time accepting that you found him beautiful. after whatever happened, he came home with so many scars, and it really impacted his self image. you embraced his scars. you told him that he was still beautiful and that while the scars may represent a bad experience, that he was your hero and you loved him for all of him, scars and all.

“you’re staring,” he teased as he tugged you closer to his body.

“i can’t help it, you’re just so handsome,” you replied and kissed his cheek.

“what do you wanna do today, princess?” he mumbled sleepily.

you thought for a second as you hummed quietly.

“mm, well first we should make some pancakes to start off the day. we can run by family video after and you can pick a movie and i can pick a movie. definitely think we should have a movie and pizza day,” you smile.

eddie was smiling back at you as he nodded.

“let’s go have some pancakes,” he replied.

“can we have a few more minutes of warmth in bed, please?” you asked softly.

eddie kissed your forehead and mumbled an “of course.”

a few minutes later you were tugging eddie out of bed, giggles escaping your lips at his dramatics, before heading to your kitchen to cook breakfast. you and eddie had a routine when it came to pancakes. he’d get all the ingredients on the counter for you while you got the bowl, pan and spatula. he’d sneak a small handful of chocolate chips, which you always saw him do, before sitting on the counter. you looked at him for a few seconds, happy radiated throughout your body. he was swinging his legs, his feet lightly tapped the wall. he looked so beautiful, scars and all, his hair in a high pony tail, some curls framing his face. there was a comfortable silence between the two of you as you combined all the ingredients in a bowl and made the batter.

“i love you,” he said softly.

“i know,” you replied back, giving him a warm smile. “can you put away everything for me, please?” you asked as you walked the bowl to the stove and prepped the pan with butter.

you heard eddie putting all of the items back where they belonged as you placed spoonfuls of batter into the pan, perfect circles forming. eddie watched as you made the pancakes, flipping them when needed, humming corroded coffin songs. he loved how your hips swayed softly to the tune of your hums, the smell of the pancakes lingering in the kitchen. he could pause this moment to be with you forever. he smiled when you turned to face him.

“pancakes are done,” you smile as you held the plate stacked with breakfast in your right hand.

“they smell delicious,” he replied as he grabbed the plate from your hands. “butter and syrup are already at the table, we just need some plates and utensils,” he spoke after placing a kiss on your forehead.

the pancakes didn’t take long to devour. you cleaned up the table while eddie started on the dishes. you always adored these domestic moments with eddie. you could imagine yourself older, married to eddie and making breakfast for your kids. you imagined that eddie taught them the “secret” way to sneak chocolate chips when he thought you weren’t watching. you imagined a pot of coffee and two mugs that eddie would set up while you made pancakes. eddie was it for you and experiencing mornings like this made you hopeful you’d get that life one day. you felt some water hit your shirt.

“eddie!” you gasp as he laughed.

“sorry, you were so lost in thought that you didn’t hear me call your name, sweet cheeks,” he replied with a smile. “what were you thinking about?” he hummed.

“you’ll think it’s silly,” you shake your head.

“come on, you know i won’t,” he cooed as he dried his hands.

“promise?” you ask softly.

“i promise,” he smiled as he pulled your body into his by your hips.

“i thought about you and me when we’re a little older, cooking pancakes for our kids,” you reply, your cheeks warm.

“are you asking me to marry you?” he joked as he rubbed his thumb across your hip.

“see, i said you’d find it silly.” you look down.

“hey, hey, hey. when did i say it was silly?” he asked. “look at me, sweetheart,” he said softly. “i’d marry you in a heartbeat.”

you look up at him and see the sincerity in his soft brown eyes. you give him a small smile, your heartbeat racing. eddie was never one for conformity so you know him saying he’d marry you was a huge thing. it’s not like he ever talked badly about marriage, but the way he grew up and his whole anti-conformity was a clear indication that marriage wasn’t that great in his mind. you didn’t want to get too hung up on him saying he’d marry you, though, afraid that the next day he wouldn’t have the seen feelings. he gave you a kiss on the forehead before suggesting you two get ready to go grab some movies from family video. eddie chose fright night and you chose the goonies.

“see, i told you the practical effects really made the movie,” eddie spoke as he waved his hands. “you can’t deny that seeing jerry’s decomposing from start to finish didn’t look great,” he finished.

“you don’t have to convince me it’s a good movie, eds,” you giggled. “i like scary movies like you, silly.”

“i’m gonna order us pizza while you get the next movie ready for us okay,” he spoke before kissing your forehead.

“but i’m so comfortable,” you tease. eddie gives you a smile before getting up from your bed.

you and eddie finished the night by enjoying pizza and the goonies. the goonies was one of your favorite films. you quoted certain parts, got emotional, laughed and even gushed about your favorite scenes. eddie watched you mostly, barely paying attention to the film. he loved seeing you laugh and how you reacted to different moments, like chunk and sloth becoming friends or the ending when all the friends reconnected with their parents and were all happy. when you turned to face him, he was already looking at you with a smile on his face.

“you’re adorable,” he says softly. “can i stay the night?” he asked as he cleaned up the trash from your bed.

“mhm,” you hum. “your clothes are in the usual drawer,” you spoke as you rewinded the tape back to the start.

you changed into your own pajamas and climbed into bed. eddie shut off the light before making his way to your bed. it was silent between the two of you as eddie pulled you into his side like he had in the morning. he ran his thumb back and forth across your hip, running warm fuzzies down your spine. eddie’s body against yours felt like two puzzle pieces connecting perfectly. his calloused fingers felt comfortable against your skin. his curly hair tickled the back of your neck. everything felt as it should, just the two of you together. he kissed your cheek before laying his head back on his pillow. it didn’t take long for you both to fall asleep, eddie’s arm around you and your legs intertwined with his.

things were okay with eddie for a bit. no fighting, no bad days. he would hold your hand during lunch, walk you to your classes, let you listen to your tapes in his van, surprise you with flowers, and you couldn’t be happier. you enjoyed hellfire nights with the gang and seeing eddie perform at the bar. and then things weren’t okay. you can’t recall how the fight started but you were in eddie’s van on the way to your house when a fight ensued.

“eddie, this is ridiculous!” you groan. “i didn’t even do anything to upset you. why are you yelling at me?”

the tears were threatening to spill from your eyes and you felt distressed.

“god, you’re so whiny,” he snapped.

you stayed quiet as the tears started to roll down your cheeks. you turned your body as far away from him as you could in the passenger seat and stayed silent. you weren’t too far from your home and you were glad to almost be out of the van. your heart ached, your chest felt heavy. you thought things were finally getting better. everything was better and now it was falling apart all over again. you drowned out most of what eddie was saying, not wanting to waste energy and fight back this time.

“and you’re so clingy. saying you wanted to marry me and imagined our future kids?” he got your attention. you whipped your head to face him.

“you said you’d marry me in a heartbeat,” you said quietly and hiccuped. “you-you said it wasn’t silly.”

it felt like he had ripped your heart out of your chest. you got angry at yourself for telling him your hopes and you were angry at him for toying with your emotions like that. eddie chuckled at your words. it felt like you couldn’t breathe. he turned the corner to your street and you wanted nothing more but to be in your bed and cry yourself to sleep.

“if you hate me this much, then why are you dating me, eddie?” you throw at him as you unbuckle your seatbelt. “sorry, i’m such a burden, edward.” you spit as you opened the door.

you didn’t look back as you hurried to your front door and unlocked it, not caring to see eddie drive off like he normally did. when you got to your room you collapsed onto your bed, screaming into a pillow. you hated when he would get mean, how he’d throw things back in your face and never even apologizing after. you hated that you allowed him to walk over you like that. you hated whatever had happened and hurt him this badly. you hated how the town treated him, still acting like he was part of a satanic cult when he was far from that. the weekend was radio silent from eddie’s end, which you expected. you wallowed in your bedroom the entire weekend and cut yourself off from the outside world. this fight was the worst you two had and it really made you rethink everything between the two of you. he said you were clingy and whiny. you were insecure about coming off that way and it seemed like your worst nightmares had come to life. it was hard to cope with.

so when monday morning came around, you drove yourself to school, not wanting to wait for eddie to not show up to pick you up. you arrived to your first class early, not wanting to deal with seeing eddie. you even distanced yourself from the hellfire club table at your nutrition and lunch break, opting to sit on the bleachers and read a book instead. the rest of the boys in the club noticed your absence.

“hey, eddie, where’s your other half?” dustin asked nonchalantly.

“i don’t know. i haven’t seen her all day. when i got to her house this morning to pick her up, her car was already gone, and i haven’t seen her around in the halls,” he replied as he turned towards dustin.

eddie couldn’t recall why you wouldn’t be around the group. you were always with the group, no matter what. he made note to stop by your house after school and see what was going on. maybe you weren’t feeling well. he’d grab tomato soup and grilled cheese for you like you do for him when he’s not feeling well. the day went by slowly, eddie missed you and wanted nothing more but to make sure you were okay. when the school bell rang to indicate the end of the day, he rushed to his van to stop by your favorite diner before making way to your home. your reading session was interrupted by taps on your window. you didn’t have to look to know that eddie was waiting for you to let him in.

reluctantly, you shut the book in your hands and climb off your bed to make your way to the window. eddie was standing with a smile on his face and a brown paper bag from your favorite diner. you give him a confused look as you open the window.

“why do you have food from ruby’s?” you ask. before giving eddie the chance to reply you interject, “actually, just come in i guess.”

“i didn’t see you at all today, not even at the table. i assumed you weren’t feeling well so i got you grilled cheese and tomato soup,” he replied as he struggled to climb into your window and not drop the bag.

“i’m fine,” you reply. “but thanks for the food,” you do your best to smile.

“you don’t seem fine to me, sweets.” eddie replied, eyeing your fake smile.

“do you even remember what happened friday night?” you ask softly.

eddie remembers. he knows you fought in his van. he nods.

“you— you called me clingy, and whiny. you threw my marriage comment in my face.” you say angry. “and then you didn’t call me at all over the weekend to apologize. you never apologize when we fight. it always has to be MY fault. my fault for calling to check in on you when you don’t show up to school. MY fault for holding your hand at the lunch table. MY fault for anything that pisses you off. and i’m tired, eds.” you croak.

eddie doesn’t say anything. he just watched as the tears coated your cheeks. your fingers jabbing your chest. he just watched.

“and i’ve tried, i’ve tried so fucking hard. i bottle everything up because i know you’re having a hard time. i know that whatever happened really messed you up and i’m trying my best, but i can’t keep watching as take one step forward in progress and then three steps back. i’m the love of your life until i make you mad, it’s giving me constant whiplash.” your voice was rough, angry.

“that’s not true,” eddie shook his head. “you are the love of my life, always.”

“i need you to leave,” you spoke as you looked at him. “please. i need you to go.” you beg.

“come on, don’t do this. we can work this out,” he pleaded himself.

“eddie, go,” you point towards the window. “i need some space. please just give me that.” you say softer.

eddie tried to bring his hand to your cheek to caress your skin but you took a step back and wiped the tears yourself using the sleeve of your black hoodie. eddie’s brown eyes looked so hurt but you needed space. you needed him to understand that him treating you like that and expecting it to be okay was not okay, that you have feelings to, that you mattered.

“i’ve told you since day one that you were it for me, eddie. you can’t even apologize to me about throwing the marriage comment in my face. if you didn’t want to marry me, you should’ve said that in the kitchen and i’d be fine. you toyed with my feelings. you were being mean,” you breathe. “i just, i need some space.”

eddie’s chest was heavy. he watched you crying, your cheeks scarlet and your chest heaving. he watched as you stepped away from him, not even wanting his touch. he could’ve said anything, anything to remind you he loves you and wants you, or to tell you that you’re enough, but he didn’t. he stood silent for a little more and took in your appearance in your room. he thought about all the moments you two shared in the room and he thought about holding you in his arms and kissing you, but he didn’t. you watched as his body turned towards the window, his scuffed shoes leaving indents in your carpet as he walked to the ledge. you watched him climb out of your window in silence, craving his brown eyes to look at you again and for him to tell you he loves you. but he didn’t. he walked back to his van, started it up, and drove away from your neighborhood. you watched him the entire time, standing in the same spot alone, crying. you didn’t even say the word “breakup” but it felt like you did.

you painfully swallowed before looking at the brown bag on the floor. eddie took you to ruby’s for your first date.

“anyways so the movie looks really good. i heard from the movie theater employee that the director took a pay cut so they could have more money for practical effects and make the film better. isn’t that so cool? i don’t think many directors would— eddie, hello?” you waved your hand in front of his face. “you zoned out.”

“sorry, was just thinking,” he gave you a small smile.

“mm, about what?” you ask as you close your locker.

“taking you out on a date,” he replied.

“ha ha, funny,” you replied, no way was he into you that way.

“i’m being serious. you, me and ruby’s diner. friday night.” he replied, his sincere brown eyes staring into yours. his curls framed his face perfectly and his smile made your knees weak.

“i can’t wait,” you smile back, your cheeks red.

the date was perfect. eddie walked to your door to pick you up instead of coming in through your window. he was wearing a black button up (clearly borrowed from wayne), black ripped jeans, his scuffed reeboks and his usual jewelry. his hair was still messy, which you loved. and he even brought you some flowers. he opened the car door for you, let you choose the music on the drive and opened the car door for you at the diner. you giggled at his chivalry, butterflies in your stomach. dinner went amazing too. you two shared a strawberry milkshake and spent a couple hours in the diner. you’d been close friends before dinner but suddenly found a million more topics to talk about on the date.

you remembered how eddie teased you for getting grilled cheese and tomato soup, how you reminded him that it was your favorite meal as a little kid and now you get it whenever you can. you remembered how on the drive back to your house he had his right hand on your thigh the entire time, his thumb rubbing back and forth. you remembered how he walked you to your front door, your hand in his, in a comfortable silence. you remembered how he towered over you on the porch, looking up at him to say goodbye, when he asked if he could kiss you. you remembered how gentle he was when he did kiss you. the taste of strawberry milkshake, cigarettes and mint combined into one. his lips soft yet rough at the same time. you remembered kissing until you ran out of air. the meal in the brown paper bag would usually make your mouth water, but this time your mouth tasted gross.

you looked around your room and found little things pertaining to eddie. polaroids on your wall of the two of you alone or with friends. a lord of the ring copy on your desk. his clothing drawer slightly open. even the hoodie on your body was eddie’s. your room was suffocating. so many moments with eddie happened here. your first time with eddie was in your room. the countless ‘study’ nights ending up in making out. watching scary movies on your tv. sharing pizza while you caught up on random class drama. holding eddie while he cried, full of emotions after the accident. eddie sitting at your desk while he wrote corroded coffin songs and you on your bed doing school work. smoking weed with eddie when your parents weren’t home on the weekends. the teddy bear on your bed that eddie had won at the arcade. some metallica and dio tapes by your music player. how were you supposed to find comfort in a room that held so many memories with the boy you were head over heels for and wanted to spend forever with that had you in shambles?

as a short time had passed, it seemed like the strain between you and eddie had finally taken its toll. eddie wasn’t surprised when you called him a couple weeks later and asked him to come over so you guys could talk. he wasn’t surprised when you had a box packed neatly with his belongings sitting on your bed.

“i love you, eddie, more than words can say, really,” you said softly.

“it’s okay,” eddie replied, his eyes wet. “i know i was a bad boyfriend.”

“don’t say that..” your voice cracked. “you just, sometimes you just were bad, but you did a lot of good and i-“ you spoke but eddie interrupted you.

“it’s okay, really,” he stressed the words.

“i think i’m gonna miss you too much,” you tell him. “i don’t know now i’m gonna do this without being by your side,” you admit.

“this doesn’t have to be a goodbye, you know,” he said sadly, tears ran down his cheeks. “this could be a see you later, just some time before we find each other again,” he finished.

you take your hand in his. you’d miss his calloused fingers laced in yours, but this was for the best. you deserved to put yourself first and eddie was praying you didn’t resent him or would wind up resenting him for what he did to you. his hand in yours burned, an ache grew in your chest knowing he’d be leaving in a minute. the rings on his fingers provided some relief to the ache from yours. his brown eyes looked so sad and you could just imagine how broken you looked. it was bittersweet really. you know once he’d walk out that it was a goodbye. graduation was around the corner and you were leaving hawkins for college. eddie would stay in town with corroded coffin and find a job in town, a mechanic probably. he was good with cars. he was supposed to leave with you but now that the relationship was over, he wasn’t gonna travel with you. you dropped eddie’s hand and take a step back.

“i guess this is it,” you spoke and bounced on your heels. you were silently pleading for eddie to beg you to stay with him, for him to say you shouldn’t break up. your cheeks were wet and your nerves were through the roof.

“it’s really over, huh?” he said quietly as he grabbed the box of his belongings.

you nod your head, unable to speak without sobbing. you walked him to your front door and watched him walk to his van. ‘turn around, come on. turn around,’ you whispered as he placed the box in his car. he turned around briefly, giving you a sad wave goodbye. you sniffled as you waved back, unable to hold back your sobs. you hated this. you hated that the breakup was official. you hated how he didn’t fight to stay with you. you hated how miserable you felt. you hated how the breakup happened. you hated all of it. you hated that stupid van he drove because suddenly that van was driving down your street for the last time. you hated the silence following his car being gone. you waited at your door, hoping eddie would turn his car around and come back. after what felt like five minutes you accepted he wasn’t coming back.

as much as you had hoped it was a ‘see you later, not a goodbye,’ it ended up being a goodbye. you both loved each other still, you knew that you’d love eddie forever. by the time graduation rolled around it was easy not having eddie by your side. you watched eddie from afar and noticed that he was genuinely doing better. you found out that eddie had started therapy and it definitely helped. you also found out that corroded coffin got a record deal and they’d be leaving shortly after graduation. when the day of graduation had arrived, you watched in adoration as eddie walked the stage. when you walked the stage yourself you found him in the crowd and gave him a small smile. he smiled at you too, telling you he was proud without using words. and then you both left hawkins.

it was bittersweet, really, that you were leaving without each other. it was for the best in the end. eddie hated himself for what he put you through and he wished he could take it all back. he was always going to love you. you showed him how amazing being in love was. you showed him how great of a person he was. you helped him grow into the person he was and he would be grateful for being able to love you and the time he had with you. he vowed that one day he’d get you back. he meant it when he said this wasn’t a goodbye, but a see you later. he would keep to his word.

—————————————————————————

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i hope y’all enjoyed this! let me know if you want a part 2 or not. thanks for 200 followers 🥺

[aihoshiino]

chapter 132 thoughts!

I FORGOT WE WERE GETTING THE CHAPTER THIS EARLY. OSHI NO JUMPSCARE!!

All joking aside, seeing some of this new movie material is very interesting. Given her focus on smiles, I wonder if Nino is at all inspired by the similarly named Nico from Love Live?

And holy crap, it's the real Takamine and Nino! Seeing them here was a bit of a surprise but it does sew up some internal logic that some folks had been questioning for a while - such as the fact that you, uh, can't make a movie about real people without their permission! This seems to confirm that the B-Komachi members included in the movie, at least, were fine with their portrayal even with it being relatively negative. Indeed, Takamine seems to be taking things in good humor even if her bossiness hasn't gone anywhere in the intervening years…

That said, I think this does highlight one of the emerging issues of the Movie Arc which is just that things are feeling so… truncated, I guess. Given that OnK is supposed to be about the entertainment industry and how closely it has focused on this sort of behind the scenes technical stuff, it feels really weird that we're just blasting past anything that could be inconvenient or slow down the filming even if it would be interesting to see. Like, how did Himekawa feel about this script, that portrays his mother (presumably) as a child abuser? Was there any legal red tape involve in portraying these real people? What did the old B-Komachi think about this movie proposal? It's just weird that we're not getting any focus on these sorts of details when they're otherwise Onk's bread and butter,

And speaking of things that feel weird… is it just me or is it kind of bizarre to see the twins having such a lowkey, understated conversation? This is the first time they've had an extended on screen exchange since the big reveal and it's kind of… nothing. In general, there has been a really baffling lack of focus on Aqua with regards to Ruby in the last chunk of chapters (seriously, no reaction at all to Ai!Ruby?? For real???) and Ruby similarly was in such a loved up haze about him it's weird to see her being so chilled out.

That said… Ruby calling him 'Sensei' is interesting. It confirms more or less that she is essentially projecting/overriding Aqua with Gorou and seeing him entirely as the latter and I can't help but wonder if our relative lack of insight into Aqua's thoughts and feelings since this reveal dropped are because he's having a very different set of emotions to this recontextualization of their dynamic than Ruby would like…

Moving on to Kana and Nino, I think this is a super interesting conversation for a whole lot of reasons I'll get into shortly but mostly for how it characterizes Kana and the KanKane rivalry in contrast to Nino and B-Komachi. To paraphrase a friend, the main tension that fuels KanKane's animosity towards each other is the pedestal Akane put Kana up when she was young and the way she continues to characterize Kana largely only in relation to that pedestal, whether she's on or off it. Akane has not, however, fallen as far as the B-Komachi members and in turn, Kana refuses to do the same. Regardless of her idolization of Kana, Akane acknowledges her as a rival who can be beaten — and therefore, implicitly, a flawed human. That the two of them can have victories and losses in their relationship means they recognize each other as equals. And as Nino puts it, that simply didn't exist in B-Komachi because 'nobody could rival Ai'. The process of idolization is also a process of dehumanization.

And this process, IMO, reveals something incredibly exciting I've been wondering for months. This chapter almost without a doubt confirms Nino as the narrator of 45510, one of the canon short stories written by Aka. The tangle of hatred, desire, jealousy, admiration, animosity and idolization are all things expressed both by Nino and the 45510 narrator who we know to be one of the founding B-Komachi members. Not only that, but her destructive vindictiveness towards anything that could tarnish her image of the perfect idol, Ai, as expressed in 45510 also surfaces here… but I'm getting ahead of myself.

evil gay women huge w miss nino i'm free thursday night and would like to hang out please respond to th

The moment between Ruby-as-Ai and Nino is both sweet and a little disconcerting for a variety of reasons. Ruby's intentions here are undeniably kind and it was, ironically, incredible like Ai of her to see someone in pain and immediately decide she wanted to reach out and do her best to help. Even so, it's a little eerie to see Ruby so confidently put words in Ai's mouth when we ourselves know just how deeply Ai was hurt by the animosity thrown her way by the other girls.

And Nino… whoa boy.

This exchange more than anything else confirms 100% for me that Nino is the 45510 narrator. Her disgust and immediate rejection of Ai's humanity and the possibility that she could be vulnerable and hurt is exactly the same as the one that leads the 45510 narrator to delete Ai's final cry for help. She clings to the image of Ai's perfection in her mind, unable to conceptualize her as anything other than a shining, invincible, untouchable goddess because then she might have to take responsibility for the fact that Ai was just a human who was in pain and that Nino exacerbated that pain.

thank god kana is here to say what we're all thinking. she's right, too. gen 1 b-komachi is a freakshow and i don't respect literally any of these people

And the last page…

I honestly don't know what to make of it, really. It's exciting to see Hikaru potentially finally getting involved in the story and to confirm a connection between him and Nino. This raises a whole armada's worth of flags about her involvement in and knowledge of the events that lead to Ai's murder but with so little info to go on, it's hard to make a guess either way. It's also, admittedly, a little hard to get too excited about this just because the manga has been so unfocused lately, bouncing around from topic to topic and even things that seem to be gearing up to have a major impact on the story and characters have just breezed by without any long term changes. I hope that this means the movie arc is finally really getting into gear but… man, I don't think I'll know what to make of it until we're on the other side and can review it in hindsight.

[axailslink]

Shuri x reader where the reader is a villain (not like terrorist murder villain but still villain) and shuri has to pretend to fight them

Traitor

Shuri x FEM reader

Summary: The Dora Milaje was quick to kill however the princess refused to let them kill you. There was a new rule no death to their own people even if they were traitors you were a traitor truth be told you wanted Shuri's seat not as the black panther but the throne and you were prepared to fight for it or fuck for it.

You sit up in Shuri's bed and watch her as she gets dressed for the day "so how are you going to tell the general the true reason you won't kill me is because I'm a good lay?" She turns around buttoning her pants up before leaning down to come face to face with you "I'm not you better look as good as you do naked when you fight because that's still happening-" she leans up looks in the mirror "you announced it quite loudly it'd be suspicious for you to back down now. So I ask you can you make a fight between your lover and best enemy look well?" You think for a moment before taking a stand in front of her you gently pull her shirt towards you " absolutely" you press your lips to hers in a hungry kiss as she lets her hands run down your back and grip your ass. "Handsy" you say pulling away and returning to the bed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you approach Okoye and Shuri the chains are tight around your wrists you wave to the general "hey gorgeous imma guess you're not too happy to see me" Okoye continues looking forward not even acknowledging your existence. All the tribes were gathered as you both stood in the water they took the chains off of you and took the power of the black panther away from Shuri. "C'mon princess what training could a scientist have?" You wet your hands in the water while looking at her and she says nothing. You don't approach her first even though you said what you said you knew better don't let the brains and gentle voice fool you you found that out last night. Shuri seeing that you were smart enough to not approach first she takes her chance and sweeps you off your feet playing dirty as she kicks you in your knee you fall down she takes a chance to punch you. You weren't expecting her to go easy but you sure as hell wasn't expecting her to rock your shit you take your chance as you're on the ground and snatch her leg beneath you straddling her to get a better handle on the situation "you look so go below me" you mumble so that only she can hear and punch her a few times not in the face of course but everywhere else was free range she grabs and kicks you in your arm you grunt in pain as you hold your arm you're pretty sure she sprained it at best but you were sure she said make it look well not abuse the hell out of each other.

You scramble back far enough holding your arm "that's fucking evil" she shrugs "being a traitor is evil" (it doesn't seem as if she's talking about what you think she is talking about...) she approaches you "you forfeit?" You shake your head and she aims for your arm with her next punch but you kick her in the stomach causing her to fall on the ground. Even you are wide your eyed at that you truly didn't mean to, you felt like this fight was getting a little too real especially for you "I forfeit" you say seeing her get up and coming towards you she stops in her tracks only until she gets close enough to you that you feel her breath on your face "the next time you want to use me to get to my throne make sure you don't talk about your plans too loudly. The sex was good though I guess you are good for something traitor. You could have made me like you that would have been easier I'm not a fool."

You have to admit seeing her actually pissed off was arousing as hell. This makes you wonder though how long has she known that information? Before she had sex with you? Afterwards? Or was this only common knowledge this morning? It doesn't matter as you're being cuffed again she waves them off causing Okoye to look at her as if she's crazy "she's fine send her off without care a traitor she may be but she's not an idiot she won't try it again." If it meant you could see her yes....yes you would try it again and again and again.

A/n: heh I suck at writing fighting enjoy anyways love

[zalrb]

Thoughts on Good Omens season 2 over all? I had a great time with it. I see some people saying the plot was kinda thin and the side characters boring, and I sort of agree, but I showed up to watch Aziraphale and Crowley so I didn’t really mind that the rest of it was nothing special. I thought they did a great job showing the strange limbo they’ve been in, where they’re closer than ever in some ways but still haven’t come to a true understanding. And they have such great old married couple energy the whole way through!

I had issues with the Lindsey aspect of the whole Nina/Maggie plot line because I understood Nina and Maggie being mirrors for Crowley and Aziraphale and Lindsey being a stand in for Heaven/Hell dictating how they should act but I was also like, I mean Nina is in an emotionally abusive relationship and to just kind of throw that in and not really do much with it and only use it as a parallel to Aziraphale and Crowley's situation is unfulfilling for me, otherwise I didn't really mind Maggie and Nina, I just kind of felt like there should be more filled in with them if they were going to be a fixture in the season.

In terms of Aziraphale and Crowley, I did think they did a good job in showing how close they've gotten with the details like Crowley knowing Aziraphale's tones of voice

or him being like I understood what you said in French because you've spoken about it for 250 years

or how Aziraphale will just tell him to order him a sherry and what I seem to naturally do with relationship dynamics like this one is focus on the person in the relationship whose feelings are evident and there and clear but not as plainly conveyed as the other. So, for instance, Crowley is the one who Nina and Maggie speak to

Crowley is the one who kisses Aziraphale

Shax speaks of Crowley's devotion to Aziraphale

I think the audience is a bit more aligned with Crowley coming to terms with how he feels than with Aziraphale because of direct lines like this

so I naturally focus on Aziraphale and his feelings for Crowley and how they're portrayed because I don't find it to be as plain as the aforementioned and therefore a little more interesting to observe, like the fact that Aziraphale has diary entries of his various adventures with Crowley (peak crush behaviour)

and that's why this is my favourite part of the season

because this, to me, says more about Aziraphale than Crowley, a) because like I said before, Aziraphale is positively tickled to be saved by Crowley b) making Crowley happy makes him happy even when they're in immediate danger.

So, what I found interesting about their dynamic this season is that while Crowley may "move too fast" for Aziraphale with suggesting running off together, in a lot of ways, Aziraphale is already comfortable with things we see Crowley coming to terms with in real time i.e. Aziraphale already knew in the 40s that they would always get each other off the hook (Crowley knew because he'd been coming through for Aziraphale for a very long time by that point as well but he's not comfortable with admitting it)

he was already comfortable with the knowledge he'd put his life in Crowley's hands, that he trusted him absolutely

or things like publicly showing some form of intimacy

and Crowley being like wait what?

and in that sense, Aziraphale is the one who pushes Crowley and is the one who's actually moving faster

even in the first episode while Crowley natural talks about them as a pair, he doesn't call attention to it

and when he reverts from talking about them as a unit to talking about himself

Aziraphale immediately calls attention to the fact that there is in fact a "them", he verbalizes it

and he has no problem admitting that he both needs and wants Crowley by his side

so it was interesting seeing these things and this intimacy and this personal development of acknowledging how much they mean to each other while they also have fundamental ideological differences that in the past had compelled the other to look at things from a different point of view but in the end (of the season) ends up ripping them apart.

[stagandsteer]

Here's the thing. I don't really have any set feelings on any of the stuff that has been going in. I do hope that Froy and Richard are still apart of each other's lives, even if they may be on like a slight break or something. Or if they're all in some big group thing, I don't give a shit. I don't like how some people are trying to shade Richard. Saying that "Well, at least now Froy has someone who publicly acknowledges him", which, one, how someone acts in public or on social media isn't the biggest indicator of how they really are. I mean, they're are tons of very public couples that looked happy and then were either abusive or just completely miserable behind screens. Two, while I would say that whether or not someone is closeted is a big deal or not, Richard was neither out nor really closeted. He never tried to deny his relationship with anyone. He simply just didn't talk about it, which is his fucking right. And yes, some of the privacy stuff may have been about his sexuality, which I don't blame him for. Hollywood is still an extremely homophobic place. Either way, I am sick of people treating Richard as if he trapped Froy in this relationship and treated him like crap. Maybe they have broken up, but from what little we would see of them, they seemed happy. I hope they both continue to be happy whether thats together or apart, or maybe apart for a while, and then back together at some point. Due to them still following each other's families, I will say I still think they are pretty close because I think even they wouldn't be mature enough to continue following each other's families if they weren't at least somewhat close still. Sorry for rambling and the long sentences. This was all just bugging the shit out of me. I will say whatever their relationship is, this blog is amazing, and I thank you for creating it.❤️❤️

this is literally most of what i’ve been thinking and talking with people about privately. the way people in online fandom spaces of any kind - gay and straight fans! - immediately jump to vilifying richard is infuriating. you don’t know, we don’t know what goes on in their private lives and in the history of their relationship. and i agree with you that Richard isn’t not “out” he just doesn’t want anything about his personal life to be documented or commodified on social media. that has NOTHING to do with how he treats Froy intimately and in their real lives and is no indicator of…like, anything. not anything real. exchanging instagram comments and emojis doesn’t change that and doesn’t define a real adult relationship!! I feel like we’ve been saying this same thing forever. anyway. herein lies the peril of getting invested in real life people and their relationships. they’re real and things happen, people change, people outgrow…I’m not saying that’s what happened here but clearly the side of Froy we got used to seeing in 2020-2022 wasn’t the one that was going out dancing twice a week. not even going to clubs and bars but literally this man is dancing and it looks like good fun. 💃🏻

[spiritofwhitefire]

Dancing on the grave of the man who murdered you

Recently I made a joke post saying that “I do not relate to Dabi but I do admire him, which is arguably much more disturbing”. Well… that may not be entirely true. Because like many other victims/ survivors of parental abuse, I find his story, particularly Dabi’s Dance to be one of the great moments of catharsis that I have witnessed in media.

::read more::

Part 1: The silent sufferer

I’ve read a lot of pre-touya reveal fics where enji was depicted as this towering monster in touya’s life, the same sort of obviously monstrous abuser as he was with shouto. But when the reveal happens, we see that in touya’s case, it’s a bit more complicated than that.

Enji is subtle with touya, he grooms touya with much more serpentine grace than he does shouto because he shows a loving side as well. He showered touya with praise and promises of greatness and told him how powerful and loved he was. And then he ripped all away.

Enji stopped spending time with touya, smiling at him, no longer praising him. In fact actively telling him he wasn’t good enough for the one thing he had always praised him for in the past. His other siblings (Natsuo and fuyumi) had always been deemed useless, the failures of the family and so now what is he to think of himself as? Imagine going through that physical trauma while also knowing you can’t lean on your biggest support? And what’s worse, he sees himself replaced, like he never mattered as an individual at all? This is abuse. Just because we don’t see him being physically traumatized like shouto doesn’t mean he didn’t go through a horror of his own.

The worst part is that we know he still to this day loves his father. You can’t hate someone that deeply without loving them, even now he craves his fathers approval and acknowledgement. To make someone depend on and love you that deeply and then rip it all away takes a terrible toll on that persons mindset because then they are forever chasing that acceptance and plagued by good memories that make them question that bad ones.

Part 2: crawling out of your grave

It is very telling that even after burning alive, Touya doesn’t even blame his father. If you were looking for proof that touya cared deeply about his family, it’s in the scene where he wakes from his coma. His first thought is of his family, how worried they must be and how badly he wants to make amends for the way he left things. He makes excuses for Enji’s absence at Sekoto and I fully believe he would have returned to his family had he not seen what he did.

Now MHA is hardly a source of realistic fiction however I do want to mention that after waking up from a coma, your body is extremely weak. Most people need to be on bed rest for weeks after their coma and are often severely underweight and in a very delicate place health wise. A burn victim with fresh grafts? VERY DELICATE place, at high risk for infection. I have no idea how far that hospital was form touya’s home but I doubt it was close. He ran home from there.

And in that physically and mentally delicate place he was forced to confront what Enji had been essentially building up over the course of the years since touya became unable to be his heir - that touya’s life didn’t matter.

Enji didn’t kill touya, but he might as well have.

Part 3: make me your monster

The first thing I want to talk about is the horrific idea that looks translate to quality of character. It’s not a fictional issue, it’s a real world one and it I see it reflected all the time in people’s reactions to fictional characters. Blah blah blah yeah Dabi is a villain, but he’s not a villain because he is a burn victim. He is a burn victim who happens to be a villain. I’ve already talked about how weird people’s reactions to the entire idea of skin grafts are and I’m not going to get into it again but it’s actually horrible the way that people react to anyone with facial differences.

He’s a fictional character so speculation about his life after leaving home is a little ridiculous but I mean… a 16 year old boy fresh out of a 3 year coma with blankets of trauma and a severely burned/ grafted body trying to make it on the streets? The amount of resilience, conviction and inner strength that kid has is beautiful, truly.

Step 5: Touya’s Dance

Apart from being really fucking cool it was also incredibly emotionally charged. The adrenaline in that moment is overwhelming. When you’re in a moment of ecstatic triumph your body just can’t contain it. His motions are not graceful, they’re awkward and jerky and entirely an expression of desperate emotion. He’s confronting his monster after years of torment, a man who birthed him but couldn’t even recognize him. Truly his voice actor deserves an Emmy for that performance the way his vocals rose and fell with despair, and passion! Beautiful.

And that’s not to mention his video recording. @pikahlua and @thyandrawrites wrote a wonderful post analyzing his disposition in that recording when the manga came out and the anime did not disappoint. That was the voice of a little boy buried too soon, talking about his own murder, his death! And atop the giant, a man who has lived his life as a vengeful spirit, whose wrath has finally come to collect. It’s a dance of vindication sure, but it’s one of pain too.

Afterword: As a victim, as a survivor…

For anyone who has ever looked in the mirror and felt like someone else, for anyone who had ever felt dead before they died, forgotten while they still breathe, like a failure when they were never give a chance….

Most of us will never get justice or revenge. For me, my father hurt me and my mom and now he’s changed and I’ve been forced to forgive him. And I still love him, but I’ll never forget what he did. And no one will ever know how bad it was. But seeing that man confront his monster and dance in ecstasy at his vengeance, in that moment, I felt something close to peace. And to see how many others feel as I do, well. It’s just nice to be seen. To be looked at.

[inchidentally]

ouuhh that's not…

I swear I read it three times and looked through their blog hoping they were joking alfhaslfkh nope

BUT I do not want anyone to engage with this so I'm hiding the link - not just because it's ridiculous but because the best way to confine rpf ship drama is to leave it alone. (edit: so I lied abt this asofgsalfga I did reply to one person but only bc they put it in the main tags) I don't rly like blocking but I also don't want to have to create a million filtered tagged posts on my dash - and tbh I don't think anyone I've blocked will care anyway. this way I can still see carlando content for fun but none of the fandom nonsense.

I'm mostly posting this bc up til now I rly wanted to set aside the behavior of the fandom to continue enjoying carlando content but I just can't be bothered anymore. between the larrying and the rampant, disgusting casual misogyny - and ofc the competing with which friendship or fake ship blorbo 1 and 2 are "happier" with asgfjsalfglja. and it's not just this latest thing I get sent tweets and posts abt whole agendas to "prove" that Lando isn't "happy" with Oscar/Martin/insert man who is currently considered threatening to their concepts of Lando's relationships. some ppl even friendzone Max F and Lando and pretend Carlos means more to Lando than him so there's no limits to the insanity.

so for me atp there just isn't enough about carlando to make it worth constantly being reminded that the way too many of it's fans truly believe that these are two men are either as close to each other as they are to their real, acknowledged close friends and/or in a secret gay relationship, that their girlfriend(s) are cold-hearted PR plants/escorts rigged by an evil all-controlling PR department and once the blorbos are freed of homophobic forces (oh god Carlos' old tweets tiktokboom) they can finally have the kind of toxic heteronormative version of a queer relationship that is right with the universe.

like, rpf is only meant to be for fun and more important it is meant to be kept away from anyone involved/the general public !! but when ppl's delu results in the actual women these men choose as their partners being at best aggressively cropped out of pictures and videos* and at worst stalked, harassed, their families and employers harassed, abuse and slander left in comments sections on popular social media and team pages - yea carlando laughing together sometimes and slowed down bro hugging isn't enough lol

it’s also slightly the fact that if you picked a bunch of Lando’s reactions to Carlos and Daniel and no one knew context clues then no one would be able to tell which one he’s reacting to. Carlos/Daniel teases Lando, Lando shriek laughs and goes red, James Corden style gay innuendo, slightly tense undercurrent of men wanting to one up each other with jokes, iterations of bromance that are half sincere and half for the cameras, hashtag hashtag. Lando goes to Daniel's ranch on a whim, dando is special. Lando goes to Carlos' sister's huge society wedding, carlando is special. Lando's family likes Lando which makes carlando special. Lando and Daniel share mutual friends outside of racing which makes dando special. like, it's the same dynamic just rotated around at different times. I enjoy both ships to a certain degree but I'm kind of mystified at ppl choosing to see them as super deep and meaningful and worth fighting over.

side note g o d do I fully embrace that ppl who do these ship competitions and larrying nonsense have ZERO interest in landoscar bc we love Lily and support Lando in his many probable conquests - and bc the Lando and Oscar dynamic isn't a big bromance for the cameras and has no fake gay for fangirl consumption.

like yes pls absolutely consider landoscar inferior to carlando if it means they stay away from inventing conspiracy theories and saying they "just have a bad feeling" about Lily and start attributing everything Lando has achieved to his teammate instead of himself.

also I could be SO incredibly mean using charlos vs carlando and the difference between PR and the public trying to tear one apart but it persisting vs PR and the public being a major factor in the other persisting at all. or the fact that charlos does everything ppl want carlando to do. but there's no point spending more time on people who think that two adult men - who've both said they're as much rivals as friends and the bromance is more what the public sees - are laughing in metrically different and lesser degrees of happiness with their new teammates vs a former teammate.

like, as long as I can now not be exposed to those opinions then they have a perfect right to express them. god knows I'm not saying my blogs is worth a damn but at least I don't trash anyone's gf or try to stunt on other rpf ships for no reason

tl;dr I'm p much done trying to make carlando worthwhile for me to rb or post about. I enjoy seeing it on my dash for myself but that's it! no one will be affected by this change lafhlsahf

*I know there are a few ppl out there who do this bc they have a no-private life policy on their blogs and that's np. they aren't die hard carlando fans tho.

[eww-y-tho]

A Ben Rant

[it get's real, sorry. also spoilers for the entire show so far.]

The reason I really can't understand Ben apologists is because, like Nick, I don't care about his issues. I am a raging bisexual in the throes of living with a very homophobic dad and a constant fear of being outed to him by my mother, and I wouldn't stoop to Ben's level in any way.

His behaviour is simply unjustifiable. That's why I love Darcy, she is also in a bleak situation, but tries to live her life authentically and without being a trash human being. A true foil so people can understand that perspective.

Truth is, just because Ben was in a bad environment doesn't mean that he has the justification to be a horrible person who abused Charlie. And let us not beat around the bush here, he sexually assaulted him. To be frank, the correct course of action would be a restaining order, being exposed for his crimes, a spot on his criminal record, and either serving some time (6 months-a year) or an astronomical amount of community service.

Sorry, you should have those consequences for your actions. It honestly gets me angry that Nick and Charlie didn't press charges and at least try to get him off that campus. I get it, they're young and really nice kids, but it's really sad that an acknowledged criminal walked off scot-free.

And honestly, when placed in that perspective, Ben's "apology" is even more insulting. That was just a last attempt at getting Charlie back, which is gross.

This hits too close to home in the form of my sister who went through a similar situation to Charlie. She has her Nick now, don't worry lol. I'm rewatching Heartstopper with her and I could tell it affected her.

When you or someone close to you has experienced a similar thing, I feel like it's easier to put it in perspective. But honestly, Ben shouldn't be given any sympathy whatsoever. He is a villain to his bones. And let's not even go into the mess that was Ben and Imogen.

Actually, let's do exactly that.

Imogen is proof that Ben did not learn his lesson and is just a sucky human being. He straight up used Imogen just to make Nick angry and rub it in his face. Imagine knowing the person who assaulted your boyfriend is dating one of your best friends. It's just gross.

And Ben's only motivations were his petty jealousy that Nick is a better boyfriend for Charlie than he ever was and that he wanted the control he had over Charlie back, as was pointed out by Nick and Charlie multiple times.

And let us also not forget that Ben is so far in his delusional mindset that he doesn't even recognize what he did wrong. A half-assed "I'm sorry, for everything," doesn't acknowledge what he did. How about you actually list everything you know you did wrong and apologize for every single one of them? That would show actual remorse.

That indicates that the only reason he's saying those things was to get Charlie in his good graces, not actually stating his remorse for those actions.

And I'm glad Charlie did not forgive him. It was a very powerful scene that went against the grain in similar plotlines where the perpetrator is forgiven for their deplorable actions.

Ben just wanted to have someone as his personal marionette, if that makes sense, and it really grosses me out, which is why people who defend Ben make me angry. You're defending a disgusting human being who deserved everything that came to him.

In the end, he pushed everyone around him away and he will continue to do so, and either learn to be better (which I find unlikely, based on the rainbow wave), or die alone.

This sentiment has been talked about a lot before, so I'm not expecting a revolutionary idea coming from this, but I just wanted to get this off my chest because I saw comments defending Ben and I wanted to rant for a second.

[ladymcres]

brief disclaimer here, this is about build, so skip it if you find it uncomfortable

i waited a little bit before dumping whatever my brain is coming up with because yesterday was overall a hard day (real life shit happened) and i was not ready to face the eventual hate i could get for, you know, having opinions.

so, let’s start from the fact that i am not a perfect person, i do have flaws and for the same reason i do not expect perfection from anyone, neither from my close circle of friends/family nor from the people i happen to follow online.

that’s why what has been coming out in the last months - and yesterday specifically - is closure enough for me. i can’t even fathom how people can look at this whole situation and pick good and bad guys when it’s kinda obvious that they were in a relationship which turned to be pretty toxic and ended up in fire. what’s also true is that the allegations against build were indeed fake, (both the ones coming from netizens on twitter and the ones coming from poi) therefore he got his life ruined on the base of accusations that were never backed up from any evidence and were actually supported by fabricated pictures and blatant lies (making threads is not my thing, but this story is all over twitter if you’re interested) there’s also the fact that when push came to shove, he decided to take the whole thing on the legal route, while she decided that harassing him, his family (the whole thing against build’s sister was disgusting) and his fans was the right thing to do.

i’m not saying anybody should support him or turn into his fan, because i understand that we are all different and we perceive things differently, but refusing to acknowledge that in the beginning - and i put myself in there too - we were all blinded by prejudice and that the situation is now much clearer is hypocritical. I also believe that what happened to him is unfair and he deserves some sort of reparation for having his life ruined considering that things are clearly not going back to what they were before.

You do not need to be a build’s fan to see that poi lied from the beginning to the end and that as imperfect as build is, he was the one to be slandered and potentially abused. I mean, voice on the street (not confirmed from any parties, but you know, info like to leak) is that she will have to pay him a whole lot of money for this mess, which to me does not sound at all like settling, but rather admitting to a fault and deciding to pay up instead of facing more gruesome consequences.

I would also like to point out how the whole kp and bl fandoms are very much filled with double standards considering what’s been happening in the last week (and i’m not referring only to the whole gmmtv situation), but on the other hand i have hope that maybe people are starting to realize how dumb cancel culture (or fandom life the way it’s turning to be) is.

I hope Build can somehow get what he lost back and i hope he’s taking care of his mental health and, more than everything, i wish he’ll learn something from this experience. Just to be clear: this is a build-friendly blog. I won’t pretend i know him as a person, but i know him as an actor and artist and you know, 10 minutes of his acting left me gaping for a year now, so I will support any kind of project he may have in the future (i know chances of 4M happening are low but a girl can dream).

To conclude, please, do not send hate to people if you don’t like them, do not spread lies for clout, but practice kindness. There’s nothing to lose in that.

[ptsd-phoenix]

February 16 2024

I was about to type here that I am having lunch in this triggering place without a single fear and feeling utterly relaxed. Which was entirely true. I felt so at peace and calm. As soon as I typed out the date above in this post.. my abuser appeared, ha! What are the odds. (Quite high to be fair, which is why this location is triggering and I do exposure at it) I have chosen to sit differently today to challenge myself for more exposure which means I am facing the direction he is about to be seated. This will be interesting.

I am nervous and shaking. Breathing faster. I'm going to face this moment head on though. I will attempt to sit here until I approach a more relaxed state of mind. I must say I am afraid to look up now since I am looking down at my phone to type this. I am quite terrified to make eye contact with him.

I just looked up and he has chosen to sit with his back facing me. This is a nice development. Does this indicate he is also afraid to be confronted with me staring at him? Does he not want me to see him? He did choose a seat near me though. Perhaps he wants to be close yet stealthily. I could see him approach the building because I have a window seat and in my peripheral vision I noticed he stopped to look at me before entering the building. I wonder if he was deciding whether or not to still have lunch here.

I am starting to slowly shake less. I really don't want him to see me shaking. I want to appear completely unaffected by his presence. Like he means nothing to me at all. As if I have forgotten him and don't even know who he is. As if I would have to say: 'excuse me, I don't know who you are? Have we met before?' I want him to feel insignificant in my life.

To be honest it is quite weird to be seated in a lunch room in close proximity to a person who has attempted to completely destroy your life. I did EMDR about this person yesterday. How strange that they can just be seated there. It's almost laughable. Monsters really just walk among us don't they. I just noticed my shirt has an angry dog on it who is holding a knife in its mouth, haha. It shows not to mess with me I guess.

I take joy from the fact he is seated alone. He might be thinking the same in reverse. If only he could see me sitting here with a friend. Although being seated here alone shows my bravery and strength. I am glad he is not sitting there with another potential victim. I don't trust him to treat anyone right.

I take small glimpses at him sometimes but I am avoiding looking up from my phone. It scares me to think of him looking around into my eyes. His eyes scare me a lot I think. Having eye contact also means acknowledging each others presence. Right now I can just pretend to not be aware he is even here. I like to keep pretending. I also feel pretty much physically unable to make my head face his direction. This must just be the fear. I am breathing more calm and shaking even less. Yet I feel frozen to keep looking down at my phone. I want to challenge myself and look his direction but it's hard. It brings a lot of fear.

I looked. I'm proud of myself. It was scary so my heartbeat went up again. I like how this is real time live blogging my exposure. I just feel it would be very interesting for me to read back in the future.

It is also my goal to calm down enough to feel at peace right now. Even with him in close proximity. I want my body to know that his presence is not dangerous in this public setting. He can't hurt me because there is too many people around.

My fear is still pretty high. I'm not shaking as much though. I wonder if I can make myself look again. I did. Apparently in this meantime he has put on a beanie, lol. I wonder if he is as distressed as me. I'd almost want to stare at him and observe him. I have the upper hand in terms of being able to observe him from behind. Him turning around is too frightening of a prospect though.

I might just leave. I don't want to get a parking ticket, lol. I'll have to walk right past him to get to the exit. I hope I don't drop my plate with nerves, hahaha. Fear is for sure rising at the thought of passing him by but he can't do shit. He is just a pathetic guy. Sitting at a lunch table. He can't hurt me now. I must believe in this.

Let's go

part 2, written same day once home

I was able to leave the place feeling pretty strong. He followed me out which is weird cause he also did that last time. I wonder if it's truly coincidence or if he waited for it (I'm very much thinking the latter, but who knows). I didn't feel afraid of it though because I felt he was weak. I took a diversion which made it so I was behind him instead and then went to my car. He didn't follow me there so all was good.

Part of me wonders if he enjoys being able to sit in my proximity and have a look at me. Especially considering his previous stalking behaviour. I am curious whether he thinks I notice him or not. I don't care if he enjoys it tbh. I am just using these opportunities to realize he isn't dangerous in public settings and I can freely do as I please without him harassing me.

[supanuts]

Thank you for not only humoring me but also responding to my angry rants in a measured and thoughtful manner! It's post ep-12 now and tbh I've managed to eliminate most of the full-on Way hate from my feed via judicial use of the blocking tool! Which means I can't tell if the small swell of sympathy I've seen since the most recent ep is because, by using Pete as a conduit, the show is inviting us (and Babe) to, if not outright forgive, at least acknowledge the coercion and abuse that has informed Way's actions, or if general opinion has not in fact changed, but my extensive blocking has merely succeeded in shutting out the angry mob!

It is curious, though, the complete disconnect some ppl seem to be experiencing vis a vis what the show itself - not just us crazy apologists! - is trying to tell us about Way and his motivations and psychology, vs the funhouse mirror version they see: a toxic incel who can only be redeemed by death. And yes, the hypocrisy of those who write essays pleading for Kenta's salvation whilst simultaneously wishing the worst for Way...I don't get it. Well, actually I do have some thoughts as to why.

I think some ppl can't see past - and will never be able to, and I won't judge them for that - the attempted sexual assault, but, more than that, they haven't contextualised it (ugh I know how that sounds but bear with me!). They still see it in terms of Way trying to rape Babe cos he thinks his ten years of pining mean he's entitled to him. They still see his actions as motivated primarily by a twisted version of possession and obsession masquerading as unrequited love. And if that was the case I would be right there with them, baying for blood! But for reasons both of us have discussed in length already, I see it very differently (and I'm fairly confident this is also how the show intends us to see it): I see someone who has been manipulated, abused and groomed for years, who is being held at metaphorical gunpoint, feeling he has no choice but to do this abhorrent thing because otherwise everyone he loves will suffer an even worse fate (insert usual disclaimer here about how this doesn't excuse or justify said actions). We've talked about how Way had TEN YEARS to use his power to assault Babe should he want to, and yet it's only when the walls are closing in, Tony's piling on the pressure, and Way's true identity has been revealed that he finally feels there's no going back and now he has no other choice but to go through with it. I do think maybe the show hasn't been explicit enough in spelling out that this was Tony's plan for Way the whole time - not sure if it's a subs thing, or an attempt not to lean too heavily into the mpreg thing, but they could have been clearer about that (I will be forever bitter that out of all of Tony's 'kids', we didn't get flashbacks of Way's background or his time as a child in Tony's house. I get why, to keep the reveal as a surprise, Way was kept as a bit of a mystery up to that point, but now it's out in the open it would be really useful and illuminating to see how he came to be there, how Tony planted the seed in his mind, how he met Babe, if he'd ever met any of the others, etc. I think show dropped the ball in general a tad after the big reveal - Way's screentime was reduced to drunkenly moping around in bars, which doesn't necessarily engender much sympathy! We could have had more about the meds, seen more of the real life ramifications for him if he's no longer of any use to Tony, etc.).

Other reasons I think ppl are quicker to forgive Kenta than Way: Kenta's abuse and subjugation have been shown much more regularly and explicitly - Way appears to be out and about living life freely, has his own place, his own income, his own friendship group, etc. whereas Kenta is more literally trapped/constrained/manhandled. And although we were told by Tony himself that Way is still effectively a prisoner, it's the ol' show vs tell thing again - that's still nowhere near as powerful as seeing Kenta's very continual and visual degredation. I also don't think it helps that the one scene where we are both told and shown the truth about Way's situation and his treatment at Tony's hands comes immediately after the attempted assault, when most viewers, understandably, aren't exactly in the mood to feel sorry for him!

I also think another possible explanation is that Way's actions specifically hurt Babe, our main POV character, and in a very personal way, whereas Kenta's actions a) had a more indirect impact (well, the trafficked children might disagree but they're only hypothetical so we don't really care about them as much!) and b) weren't personal - he didn't betray anyone's trust or friendship or love - so viewers find it easier to accept mitigating factors.

At the end of the day, I mostly just feel sorry for those viewers who either can't see past their own bias (obviously does not include anyone who for personal reasons may have been triggered)/admit they were wrong, or who lack the necessary media literacy to fully engage with the characterisation the show is offering us (hahahah says the self-proclaimed hater of all things Charlie/Babe!!!), since it's an infinitely more interesting and powerful and tragic story if you see Way, and Way's relationship with Babe, through open, receptive and, most importantly, sympathetic eyes.

my pleasure! i'm happy i have someone to talk with way about; the friends i usually theorise and cry about blorbos with are still way behind so i can't tell them anything bc i don't want to spoil them, and i've been venting to another friend (more like talking her ear off) but she's not watching or really interested so it's not really the same even when she has something to say lol

and yeah, at the end of the day we're responsible for curating our fandom experience, inasmuch as people don't tag hate etc. i haven't blocked anyone bc for some reason i feel bad blocking people which i know is stupid (edit: never fucking mind i am blocking now), but i do follow very selectively bc i get easily overwhelmed by my dash, so everything i've seen was either in the tag or by people i no longer follow. this means i have wonderful moots who provide me with plenty of blorbo feels and are not assholes about other characters <3 (fun? fact: my top blorbos are literally way > kenta > pete which is i think i'm no too bothered by the shipping side of things? as in it's not affecting me as it does sometimes the fact that some people are looking at all of this solely through their shipping goggles or whatever... but idk. i don't deal well with hate generally and after some thought i think that's what's bothering me about the whole way situation, bc the character/media you're hating on won't know bc it doesn't exists but their fans will.)

i totally agree, the fact we saw that scene with tony (even if it's clear how terrified way is in his presence earlier) right after the attempted SA didn't help. i wish we'd seen more of his past, maybe a flashback when he was at the bar… because as you said, once again the not showing/telling/letting people infer things isn't helping. specially when people aren't interested in the first place. idk i just like to understand characters independently of if i like them or not so this is! baffling to me! and yeah exactly, the fact that it was personal to babe plays a big part too, never mind how babe himself feels about way since we're already sympathising with him as our main character so…

as my friend (the one that isn't watching but is patting my back in these difficult times) tells me, sometimes people just let their prestablished idea of a character blind them to what the story is telling them. and honestly, their loss. skill issue if you ask me /j

anyway, the ep is about to start. let's hold hands.