#herr rants

[herr-aka-somecutenerd]

is it me or the way fandom treats Sakura Haruno is a HUGE example of fandom mysoginy ?

[herrswhitespace]

holding a conversation with your college collective is hard. I want to feel safe in my working environment, but I just don't. I want to chat like a normal person without feeling social anxiety, but I just can't.

[bonivers]

save me grace album by jeff buckley save me

[iamfuckingsorry]

i'm sorry but like. i played the game for the first time like a month ago (and it absolutely wrecked me, it was beautiful), and i just can't stop thinking about this and i need to get it out. but like, kim, what the fuck is the deal with kim?

like, he's just such a weird little man with such a weird little collection of character traits, but also he's just so fucking perfect.

like, kim. he spent 15 years being a cop in a department he fucking hated but he just stuck it out. he is so done with teens he basically refuses to speak to them unless he absolutely has to, but he still spent 15 fucking years in that section, refusing to give up. he's proud to be a revacholian and to protect the city now, but did he feel this way when he joined the RCM? or did he join to prove to everyone that even a monkey fucker like him could be revacholian? or did he join because he got kicked out of the orphanage he grew up at and didn't have anywhere else to go? or was there a different reason altogether?

and look at him now. he's presumably one of the best cops in his precint (i'm sure he mentions something about this early on in the game but i honestly can't remember), and one that seems to mostly play fair and genuinely care, which doesn't seem to be that common at all. and he's proud of this and strives to always be professional and calm and collected even if he doesn't always fully manage. he keeps himself in check first and foremost, and seems to try to keep everyone at an arm's length and not engage in personal discussions, even though he will often indulge harry if directly asked.

and so far it all makes sense, right? he's been treated like shit all throughout his life, dealt a fairly shitty hand, an orphan, an immigrant, a homo, possibly visually impaired (has he always needed glasses? was he able to get them as a broke-ass kid with no one to speak on his behalf? or did he grow up never able to see properly, struggling in school because he could never read the board or react in time when people threw shit at him, made fun of by both teachers and classmates?), mocked and ridiculed, and he's had to fight hard to get to where he is now. and he desperately needs to keep it this way, so he works hard and sticks to the rules and keeps his distance from people, and he puts a stop to everyone and everything that people could make fun of (no, harry, you will /not/ call me kimball, you will call me Lt kitsuragi, no, harry, you will /not/ tell anyone about the ice bear fridge, i will /not/ be known as the ice bear cop). but he's also mostly a genuinely nice and compassionate person and he really cares, as long as people are at least trying to do good.

but also…

he basically wears period cosplay to work. like. for real, he clearly wears his fucking pilot jacket so often that having the RCM insignia sewn onto it was the most logical choice. he is so obviously into planes and cars (but he's too blind to be a pilot :), do you think he used to hate himself as a kid not only because he was poor and abandoned by everyone and "an immigrant" but also because not even his own fucking body would let him be what he wanted to be), he has an extremely expensive vehicle that's his, his only, and not even really needed for the stuff he does at work the majority of the time. he clearly had to have a chat with his boss at some point in time and justify this purchase and why the car should be permanently assigned to him and him only, and even if i'm sure he had a bunch of actual reasons you can't convince me that his boss and all of his colleagues weren't all aware that really, he just wanted a fast fucking car and had an excuse to get it. and clearly the higher ups like him enough to indulge him, because surely no one would be actually fooled? why would a crime investigator get it and not, like, the fucking traffic guys chasing drunk drivers and illegal racers every night?

and like, in some ways he fucking owns it, doesn't seem to give a fuck, he's who he is and if people don't like it that's not his problem. but he's also embarassed about listening to that fucking radio station. but he also drives a sports car and wears driving gloves and a pilot jacket, of course he's listen to that fucking radio station. but then he also does newspaper crosswords. like, he seems to put a into maintaining this facade of professionality, but he also really doesn't fucking care when it comes to a lot of the stuff, it's great. except for the extremely random stuff that he does care about and can get extremely flustered about momentarily.

and it feels really out of character in a way. he works so hard on keeping himself in check at all times, representing the RCM in a good light and making sure both him and others get treated with the respect they deserve. he smokes one cigarette a day to keep proving to himself he can keep his vices in check, for fuck's sake. but then it's like he just picked one (1) part of his personality where he just went like, fuck it. Fuck it, I work hard for this shit and I deserve to do what I want sometimes too, and this one fucking thing is innocent enough and safe enough, and I don't give a fuck, I deserve /one fucking thing/ and I'm gonna get it. I'm getting the goddamn jacket and the Kineema and if people have a problem with that, they can go fuck themselves. I /need/ this one thing and I. Am. Getting. It.

(it's clearly a big part of his personality, but do you think there were other massive interests in the past, or maybe there still are others he isn't as open about with? Things he thinks would undermine his career and reputation? Past hobbies he abandoned because if anyone found out, that would be the end of his career at the RCM, even though for anyone else who wasn't a stupid fucking immigrant who can't even see right it would be a funny little detail?)

anyway.

i'm just like. stay the way you are, my weird little man. you're great.

[monobani]

If you like seeing fanart...And you like the artists posting the fanart so you can enjoy it...Could you all please stop posting and using your AI-generated Rogue Trader portraits?

Those of us who are professional artists already live in a world in which CEOs have decided creatives are replacable because techbros told them it is so.

We, and I truly think I can speak for all of us, don't need to see this shit invade fandom spaces which we want to enjoy and contribute to.

I get that some people don't realize how horrible unethical generative AI art is and see it as a harmless toy but p l e a s e inform yourselves and don't contribute to the normalization of this garbage.

The SAG-AFTRA strikes did not happen for no reason, VAs are not asking people to not use models trained on their voices for no reason, Midjourney creators are not getting sued by creatives for no reason.

The models work because they mass-plagiarize our images without any consent whatsoever.

My art is in there, the art of your favourite artist is in there and by using this tech nightmare, you just give the ones responsible more of an incentive to keep exploiting literally every single working creative currently alive on this planet. :'>

Voice Actors, writers, actors, artists...We are all fighting this shit so we can continue making things for you to enjoy.

Make your own portrait, commission someone, use one of the numerous portraits owlcat has provided you with, hell, edit one of the existing ones to suit your needs, use another illustration you like...There truly is no need for AI here.

Fandoms are supposed to be a place we can all enjoy together but I will be honest, it is both hurtful and infuriating to see fandom spaces being invaded with AI. We also want to enjoy fandom and share things with you so meet us halfway, please?

[kvothbloodless]

Hnng finishing ny first reread of His Dark Materials and god younger me was so right to hate the ending. But like. Not for the same reasons. If Pullman wants to write a tragedy thats fine, I like tragedies now.

But good god is it contrived. Just like. So clear thst the universe us shaping itself specifically so that the ending is a big tearjerker. And then it still fails! There are like. An entire handful of solutions never brought up.

Angels can kill spectres! I think after saving free will for all sapient life, theyve earned an angel taking 1 day every 5 years to kill a spectre while they transfer between worlds.

And they dven admitted that they Could leave some (natural) openings, but wouldnt because then theyd spend their lives searching for them. Why not just...tell them where the most convenient one is, and leave it open? The angels alledgedly all feel for Lyra and Will, and wish it were otherwise. Why not do either of these 2 super easy solutions?

Hell, even if the angels are committed to their universe segregation (which is kinda a fucking weird moral for the series tbh), the series very explicitly has technology that lets you communicate across worlds, no knife requires. Sure it woukd stil suck, but at least theyd be able to talk. But that woukd ruin the totality of the tragedy, so everyone just conveniently forgets they exist.

Im Very salty if you couldnt tell. Still gonna read the sequels though.

[herr-rockstar]

(It's too funny, so let's keep the train going)

How do you think Kristoph will react to the new addition to the family? Do you think he'll be jealous of Amuro? (Amuro can cook much better and doesn't manipulate people)

Ach, mein bruder would not care too much, i think. He wouldnt have any right to say so anyway, being in jail and all. I think he'd be jealous of anybody close to me, at this point. after his second arrest he became much more... posessive. Still, i try to brush it off, he is mein bruder after all.

[mango-mya]

I know your url says mango but here's a 🍋 for the ask X3 -@wisp-herr

Omg thanks (takes a huge bite with the skin on ❤️)

Susie Campbell...ohhh my GODDDD I STILL have a huge thing for her...her story is so tragic and she's written so well...and she's EVIL (and a cannibal but that's okay I can fix her.)

[gokartkid]

new most behated coworker just dropped…….

[noxtivagus]

HELP I STARTED GETTING ACTIVE ON TWT AND in like the promo post yeye i put "i'm also on tumblr (same @) !" and i want to disappear rn oh my god

[herr-aka-somecutenerd]

Call out to witches from a babywitch

Are witches NECESSARILY need to be women?

I have a few books about witchcraft and herbology/green witchcraft, and authors of these are so focused on the idea that witch is a woman or that being a woman is enough to be a witch.

I'm not the one to complain, as I am a cis woman, but it sounds kinda eh to me (especially in "Witch" by Lisa Lister). In other book - "Green Witchcraft" by Paige Vanderbeck - it is said that witches aren't necessarily women (and that stereotype angers Paige the most as she says).

So am I being salty for reason or not?

Also, want to hear your opinion on "Witch".

Thank you

[userdaisy]

kmskmskmskmskmskmskms

[iamfuckingsorry]

Thinking about that mural from DE

You know which one

TRUE LOVE IS POSSIBLE ONLY IN THE NEXT WORLD, FOR THE NEW PEOPLE. IT IS TOO LATE FOR US. WREAK HAVOC ON THE MIDDLE CLASS

The next world mural. In the game, you encounter this piece very early on if you interact with everything available, you probably see this mural before you've ever even heard of Dora or before you've started to get really serious about your commie tendencies, if that's how you choose to play. And the reaction is like, "wow, this is kinda profound actually". Or maybe it's like, "oh lol, this game really is commie af isn't it" (even though later on it turns out that the game is much more critical of communism than you'd think at first). And the story in the ledger provides some insight into Harry and Jean and how they work together too, so it feels like it makes sense, it fits in very well at that moment in the game and that's it.

But looking back at this mural after you've played through the entire game, knowing what you know of Harry's relationship with Dora...

It's Harry's own fucking love story in a way, isn't it?

Him and Dora came from very different backgrounds. He's genuinely poor, grew up checking the trash cans on the streets for tare and edible food, spent his teenage years running around with a bunch of kids who all OD'd or got themselves killed one way or another over the years. He had dreams of getting an education, getting a chance to use his creativity and curiosity and learn about all that that is worth exploring in this world (which is everything), but those dreams are long dead. She's solidly middle class, with access to all the education and art and music he's always dreamt of, with her family to always fall back on. She's everything Harry's ever dreamt of growing up. She might as well be living in another world.

They fall in love with each other and she moves to Jamrock to live with him. Jamrock, the biggest fucking ghetto in Revachol, full of tweakers and gangsters and just thousands upon thousands of poor people permanently down on their luck trying to get by, with no proper aid or government and a police station so understaffed and underfunded they never even stood a chance. And they can barely make ends meet even living in Jamrock, moving from shithole to shithole, never knowing when they'll have their electricity cut, when something will happen that gets them thrown out, desperately scrambling for a new place to stay. And Dora could never do that, not really - she never actually lived in Jamrock, she always had the possibility of leaving, of going to work across the river and visiting her parents whenever she felt like it or just escaping, packing her shit and getting on the tram and never going back. And as long as she knew she wasn't really, truly stuck in this miserable shithole forever, she wasn't ever really living in Jamrock. And it could never be enough for her.

And she wanted more - for herself, for Harry, for their family, who even knows. Maybe she saw Harry struggling trying and failing to make a difference as a gym teacher and thought he could do more good with the RCM. Maybe she was getting desperate, living in this fucking shithole, and thought they needed more money. Maybe it was something completely else - but what is certain is that Harry ended up joining the RCM, and the 41st, and everyone there is on speed, everyone is miserable and desperate and always running behind playing catch up with the case load, with the crimes, with the drug addicts and rapists and murderers, and Harry, who's always been like this close to a genuine mental breakdown, just fucking falls apart. He needs to help people, needs to make a difference, and working at the 41st, with the budget and case load and staffing situation and the pure fucking misery in the area. He goes out and meets a miserable person after a miserable person and he can't do anything else than be nice, make their day a little bit more manageable, do his best- but he knows that no matter what he does, his best won't be enough. He won't be able to make a dent in the pure fucking misery that is Jamrock. But he needs to, so he drinks, he smokes, he does drugs, he loses any semblance of control he ever had over the voices in his head, the dude telling him to hit shit and the dude telling him to forget everything and just get fucked up and Revachol herself screaming at him about her imminent death. And in the end Dora can't stand it anymore and she leaves (and, honestly, good for her. I'm happy for her. But this is about Harry, and Harry isn't, he isn't able to be happy for her at this point in time).

And like. I personally doubt that she'd have left just because of the money if everything else was good. I honestly even doubt that the money was that big of an issue for her to start with, it was all the other issues first and then the fact that they couldn't even rent a fucking VHS and play it at times became just one more thing on top of this already massive pile of shit that broke the proverbial camel's back. But in Harry's mind, he was never rich enough for her. She was always the middle class girl who settled for the poor fuck, and he was never gonna be good enough for her because he was just a broke dude from Jamrock. She was perfect and so so beautiful and at one point her love was the only thing keeping him going, and then she left because he couldn't even

And from what we can see in the game she was the only person he's ever really, truly loved.

But in his mind, they could never be together again. They could try as they might, but it was never gonna work out, because she was a rich girl and he was just a poor miserable fuck. He grew up looking for change on the streets, she took piano lessons in a fancy part of town. The difference was just too large to ever truly be bridged.

So for post-breakup Harry, prior to Martinaise and even during the events in Martinaise, true love was never actually possible. It is possible only for the new people, in the next world. It was too late for him - he had his chance, and it was an impossible thing, it could never have worked out and now he's wasted it. Because of the inherent differences between different social classes. It is too late for him. So yeah, fuck it, wreak havoc on the fucking middle class. Fuck those rich bastards who took Dora from him, and fuck Dora too.

On another note, this was also one of the most recent cases him and Jean worked on prior to Martinaise. I don't remember the date exactly, but it was in his last ledger, it must have been pretty recent. Do you think he saw the mural and thought about it the same way I did? Maybe this was the one that truly pushed him over the edge? The impossible love. It truly was too late for him. The only way to fix it is a new fucking start. And how do you get that?

After life - death. After death - life again.

[midnightcreator12]

I'm Rewatching old Turtle Shows....for reasons

And I'm gonna rant because, honestly, the way 2012 wrote their Turtle Forever episode still makes me mad

Like, why do they make the whole episode 'Herr, derr, 1986 turts can't fight cause their universe is uber family friendly so 12 gotta show 'em whats what.'??

Number one, the 87 boys were rocking up to Shredders homebase with intent to kill in EPISODE ONE.

Number two, 80s cartoons are infamous for doing whatever the hell they wanted, which led to a lot of episodes that are kinda fucked up when you think about it. But since they mask it with the jokes and bright colors, they could slip it by (well, that and the rules were a lot more lax)

No, you know how the 2012 Crossover SHOULD have gone down?

87 boys still trying to operate on their 'I can drop a building on the baddie and they'll be fine because this show is for kids!' logic. And the 2012 boys frantically trying to curb their chaotic energy.

2012 Turtles: 'No, you CANNOT drop two tons of steel on Bebop and Rocksteady! Thet would kill them!'

1987 Turtles: 'Relax, your censors are a lot stricter than ours, they'll walk away no problem.'

But the writers didn't do that cause they're fucking cowards!

[photo1030]

Leather and Lace - Chapter 10: No

Summary: Arthur is in a bad mood. By giving him something else to be focused on, you're hoping he'll forget all about the ugliness of the the afternoon.

Warnings: Swearing; Shorter than some of my earlier postings

A/N:  From a writing stand-point, this is not my best work. But, I thought it was a cute idea to further develop their relationship.

*This fantastic image does not belong to me. This comes from @alexj2539. Check them out! 

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Arthur is in such a foul mood. Apparently, everything that can go wrong, did go wrong today. 

He rode four hours to meet a man about a tip, only to find out it was a dead-end. Frustrated, he stopped for a drink at the saloon in the first little town he crossed on the way back home. The barkeep there was less than cordial with him, calling him all sorts of unsavory names and telling Arthur that he needed to leave and that they "didn't want to serve the likes of him". This, of course, lead to a bar fight when two men tried to escort him out. "Tried" being the important word. (Arthur can certainly handle himself in a fight, especially when he's already irritable.) After he left the saloon, he made his way back to camp, running into Herr Strauss upon his return. The little weasily man immediately sent Arthur back out before he could even catch a rest. This time it was to collect from some man who over-extended himself to start up a mining business. Of course there was no gold where this fool was panning, so the venture was a bust. Upon hearing that the equipment was being sold off, Strauss sent Arthur to collect the debt before the man tried to bolt and run before paying up. Sure enough, once the man caught sight of the burly outlaw approaching the shack of an office and heading his way, he dropped whatever was in his hands and tried to take off. This, of course, annoyed Arthur to no end, as he was already having a shitty day and was in no mood for a chase. Arthur caught up to him pretty quick, though, but in a feeble and desperate attempt to get away, the man threw a fairly large rock at Arthur. His aim was none too accurate and the rock veered drastically to the left and hit Arthur's horse, Buck, in shoulder instead, causing the poor animal to spook and rear up. Now, Arthur will put up with a lot. But do NOT mess with his horse. Ever. Fully pushed to his limits and beyond now, Arthur stalked angrily towards the man, who cowered in fear, realizing the grave mistake he had made. "You could've made this so easy. But no, you had to go and really make me mad!", Arthur shouted, his fists clenched at his sides. A quick and massive fist to the face put the man flat on his ass, knocked-out cold. Huffing in annoyance as he made sure that the man wasn't going to be a problem anymore, Arthur quickly searched his pockets and bags to collect whatever money he could find and called it a day, leaving the poor fellow sprawled out unconscious in the dirt.

And thus, the reason for the mood that Arthur Morgan is currently in.

Once he gets back to camp, Arthur tosses the canvas bag with the money at Strauss without a word and quickly sets off to get a bottle of whiskey and something to eat, firmly planting himself down at the table where you happen to be reading. He mumbles to himself about "idiots" and "wasted time", rolling his eyes at no one every time he lifts the bottle to his lips. You sit quietly at the table and observe Arthur carry on for awhile about everything and nothing. Every little thing is annoying to him at this point. He even complains about the sun being "too bright" today, causing you to chuckle silently to yourself. You really shouldn't laugh, but it is kind of amusing at this point. Nothing is going to put him in a better mood when he gets like this. So you decide to push your luck and create a little fun of your own and mess with him.

As he sits there ranting, you casually start to collect the leaves and little pieces of twigs from the overhead trees that have fallen onto the tabletop where the two of you are sitting. You roll the fragments around in your fingertips, making a small pile in front of you and then proceed to flick them across the table at him with your fingers. The little shrapnel pieces sail through the air and begin to pelt him in the arm and occasionally in the chest. Your face twists slightly as you concentrate and focus all of your attention to line up your ammunition with its target. Arthur doesn't seem to notice at first, as he's so wound-up in his own misery. Until a small piece of a twig hits him square in the nose. Your eyes go wide as you freeze, biting your bottom lip to stifle a smile, waiting for his reaction.

Arthur instantly stops his own antics, speechless for a split second as he looks over at you. "What the hell are you doing?!" Arthur snaps, his face one of confusion and exasperation. "Cut it out!" he barks at you sharply.

"No", you say simply and calmly, an ever-so-slight mischievous grin on your lips. He stares you down for a moment, his face hard as nails, eyebrows drawn together. Ah, the challenge is on now! As you are not going to let him brood like this for the rest of the day if you have any say in the matter.

Next, you look him straight in the eye and stick your tongue out at him. Arthur says nothing at first, turning his head slightly and giving you the side-eye glance, not sure what in the hell you are doing before he utters a "What the-?” When your first face registers with him, and you now have his attention, you start with making a succession of silly faces at him, rapidly changing your expressions to a series of exaggerated angry and mean faces. You jut your lower jaw out like a bulldog, and curl your nostrils up like a pig. You cross your eyes and let your tongue slack out to the side of your mouth. This causes him to stop-dead, looking at you like you're crazy.

"Knock it off, (Y/N)! I ain't in the mood," he warns sternly. His eyes are heated, burning a most intense hue of blue-green. And this isn't even Arthur's angriest state, yet he is still most intimidating. Of course he realizes, deep down, that he can literally just get up and walk away from you at any time if he wanted, yet he still sits there. And this is where you have the advantage:  you know that he will never, ever hurt you, despite how angry he may get.

"No", you reply with another impish grin.

Arthur abruptly takes his hat off his head and pulls his other hand over his face in frustration. When he does this, you take advantage of his distraction, reach over and quickly snatch his hat out of his hand, and place it on top of your own head, smiling back at him triumphantly. Arthur halts in his movements, a clear and menacing vibe bouncing off of his tense body now.

"Give me my hat," he growls out slowly, eyes locked on you intensely.

"No."

"(Y/N), I ain't gonna warn you again. Give me my hat." His blue eyes are dark and flashing.

You abruptly stand up and start to walk away from the table, leaving him sitting there. "No", you tease over your shoulder, with half of your face covered by his hat which is too big for you.

"God damn it!" he yells and springs up from the table to chase after you. "C'mere!" he yells at you. He quickly stalks after you, reaching out to grab your arm, but you quickly evade his grasp.  

"No!" you holler back. And you spring away from him again, changing directions to place yourself out of his arm's length once more as he keeps grappling at you.  "Son of a-" he huffs out angrily. And he rushes at you yet again, but you are too small and too quick for him, leading his large hands to grab nothing but air. Like a puppy running around crazily, you keep darting around just out of his path and dodging behind chairs and crates. Now, of course, it hasn't occurred to you until this moment what you will do if, and when, Arthur does catch you, as you know it is inevitable. You admittedly didn't think this through too well. And, he is pretty riled up now. Crap. Now what? Maybe you'll kiss him? That'll distract him for sure. He can't very well beat your ass for kissing him, now can he?

You bolt out into the clearing, looking over your shoulder to make sure Arthur is still beyond arms's reach. If you can make it to Hosea, he'll surely help shield you from Arthur. But what you don't see, is that you are about to run right into the wall that is Bill Williamson.

“Bill! Don’t let her get past you!” Arthur shouts out suddenly, pointing at Bill. Confused, you turn around, but not before Bill's arm shoots out from his side, snatching you up by the waist and pulling you to his chest. His barrel arms fold you up and effortlessly pin you to him for safe keeping. "NO!" you shout, struggling and pushing back against the man behind you. "Bill, you let go of me right now!"

Catching his breath for a second, now that you're contained, Arthur smugly saunters over to you and Bill. "You lose something, Arthur?" asks Bill, lifting his chin in acknowledgment with a grin.

"Well now, ain't so smart now, are you, Miss (Y/L/N)?" Arthur teases as he stands in front of you, feeling all superior, with his thumbs tucked into his gun belt. You just stand still, mouth closed and glaring at him defiantly as he tilts his head to the side just slightly as he looks you over, debating about what he's going to do with you now. And quicker than you realize it can happen, the world turns upside down - literally, as Arthur grabs your arm from Bill's grasp and tosses you over his broad shoulder like you're little more than a sack of grain, causing a surprised shriek to escape your lungs.

“Arthur! Put me down this instant!” you shout at him, your legs kicking as you try to maintain your balance as you perch precariously upon his shoulder.

“No”, he replies smartly, giving you a taste of your own medicine.

"I mean it! You put me down! Now!" you shout again, still trying to wiggle yourself free.

"No", his voice calm and a sly grin creeps across his handsome face as he clearly has the upper-hand now.

Seeing the opportunity to step in and add to your torture, John walks over, grinning ear to ear, from where he and Abigail were watching the scene, eager to play along. "Um, hey Arthur?", he asks with exaggerated innocence. Arthur spins around excessively to face him, swirling you in the air. "Why, yes, John?" "Did you happen to see where I left my canteen?" asks John. Arthur spins again, this time 180 degrees to face the horses, forcing a yelp to escape your lips with the motion. "I think its over there, John." "Are you sure?" asks John, rubbing his chin with his thumb and forefinger, as if in deep thought. Arthur spins yet again, this time towards the tents. "Well, hold on now, maybe its in the tent?", he offers. Each time Arthur moves, you spin wildly with him, making your stomach lurch and the blood rush to your head. Your hair keeps falling into your face, quickly becoming a disheveled mess and obscuring your vision.

"Arthur, come on, now. You really should let her go," giggles Abigail, covering her mouth with her hand, making an attempt to convince the man to show you some mercy. "Hell, no!" affirms Arthur. "This is a result of her own doin'."

"Arthur!" You continue to shout as you try to hold yourself up by pushing your hands against his back. "I’m gonna get sick all over you!”

"Go ahead. You’re the one who does the washing,” he says flatly, completely unaffected by your threats.

The entire camp is enjoying the show, as playfulness like this is seldom seen. Even Dutch walks over to participate as well. He pauses to take in the compromising situation that you find yourself in. He crosses his arms over his chest and bends at the waist, turning his neck so that he can look into your face with a big smile on his own. “You see, Miss (Y/L/N), this is a lesson that we all must learn: Arthur is not one to be trifled with,” says Dutch with a falsely chastising tone. This causes you to just huff back a growl in frustration as you continue to squirm to try to free yourself of Arthur's iron grasp, as it appears that no one is going to help you.

And suddenly, like thunder piercing a quiet night sky, you hear Ms. Grimshaw's voice cut through the noise that is starting to muffle from the blood rushing into your ears. The matron has had enough at this point and has decided to put an end to this nonsense.

"What in God's name is going on here?!" You hear her before you can see her and you try to turn your head to see which direction she is coming from. She is marching over to you and Arthur at an alarming pace, her arms swinging sternly at her sides in hard determination. While you are relieved at the the prospect of being released from Arthur's grip, you still cringe a bit at the idea of her wrath being unleashed upon you both. (The only person that you can say who is as intimidating as Arthur Morgan is Susan Grimshaw.) “What in the hell are you doing, Arthur?! Put her down!” she yells at him, getting up in his face and back-handing his chest in annoyance. But he only stares her down, not moving, but not saying anything back, either.

"Put. Her. Down." Ms. Grimshaw threatens Arthur in a low voice. "NOW!"

Arthur huffs as he quickly plunks you down on the ground, causing you to stumble a bit backwards ungracefully on your feet. But once you sweep your hair out of your eyes and regain your footing again, you immediately rush back at him, punching him in the arm in retaliation with a deep scowl set upon your face. "Ass!"

"Knock it off or next time I’ll drop you in the rain-barrel!" he glares at you, stepping closer and towering over your much-smaller frame as if he's going to grab you up once again.

“That’s enough! You people got time for this foolishness when there's work to do?!” Ms. Grimshaw gets between the two of you.

"She started it!" Arthur yells, pointing a finger at you in defense of himself to Grimshaw. "Oh, get over yourself, Arthur!" you shout back at him.

“I don’t care!", Ms. Grimshaw snaps back, putting both of her hands up to silence you both, her face now flushed and red in irritation. "And you," she says spinning her head and pointing at you now. "Quit getting people all riled up. You're just as bad as he is!" she points out as she waves her hand dismissively at you. "In fact, get over there and make yourself useful and help Mr. Pearson out!” she nudges her head towards the cook's area.

“Fine!” you snap back childishly and turn on your heels with a flourish of your hair as you march over to the food wagon.

“Children! I deal with children all damned day around here!" Ms. Grimshaw shouts at no one in particular as she plants her hands on her hips in annoyance. "Jack has more sense than you people!”

--------------------------------

Later, after everyone has calmed down and gone about the rest of their day, the gang gathers around the tables for dinner. And something in the air smells absolutely delicious, too. Ms. Grimshaw has made sure to keep you and Arthur separated since your squabble earlier. While you were directed to Mr. Pearson's company, Arthur was sent over to take his frustrations out on the fire wood, which yielded enough cut timber to last the camp for four days. He eventually makes his way over to the tables to join everyone, trying to inconspicuously watch for you out of the corner of his eye. He cautiously sits down next to Charles and John, who are also warily watching, as they do not want to get in the cross-fire of any retaliation between Arthur and you. They know you by now, and know that you are not going to fold so easily after this afternoon. And it doesn't help that you have been mysteriously absent for a few hours. Abigail and Jack take a seat across the table from John, Arthur and Charles, and Abigail shakes her head at the whole lot of them, observing their nervous twitching and shifty eyes. "Shame on you, all, being afraid of a little woman," she chuckles. "Oh sure, a little woman wrapped up in a wolverine's pelt", mumbles Charles in defense.

As everyone gets settled, you eventually make your appearance, coming around the corner from behind the food wagon with a single plate in your hand. Everyone in camp takes notice and keeps an eye on you as you walk, wondering what you're up to now. You smile innocently as you walk straight over to where Arthur is sitting, eyes locked on him like a rope pulling you over. Your calm presence is more than a little unsettling, considering how you both left each other last time. As you reach the table, you pause, looking down at Arthur.

"Y/N", he greets you cautiously with a raise of his eyebrow.

"Arthur", you respond calmly. "I made something...special...just for you for dinner tonight. You know, after earlier and all." Your voice is calm and even, and you smile at him with a wickedly sweet grin. You carefully set the plate in your hand down right in front of him. Everyone else is having the usual stew for dinner. But for Arthur, you have prepared roasted pheasant, with potatoes and gravy. The aroma is heavenly, with the hint of various herbs drifting through the air. Arthur's eye go wide in surprise of such a treat, his mouth already watering at the sight and smell of the custom-prepared dish.

You stand with your hands folded over your stomach, watching him with earnest. "Wow...uh...thank you, (Y/N), Arthur says slowly, not really sure how to respond to such a gift.

"Uh, Arthur?" warns Charles. "I don't know if I'd eat that if I were you," as he motions to the plate.

"Why not?" he asks, looking at Charles with confusion.

John also looks from the plate, to you, and back to Arthur, and even he is smart enough to question it. Why would you make him such a lovely meal after the fight you had earlier? Either you are trying to apologize and make up for it, or... "Yeah, I agree with Charles there, Arthur," says John skeptically. "You may want to skip dinner tonight."  

Arthur looks at the plate of delectable food, contemplating his choices. You wouldn't...would you? He eventually looks up at you, as you continue to stand there, staring silently and smiling oh-so innocently, watching his internal struggle. And his torture is just so satisfying to you.

“Go ahead…eat it," you encourage sweetly. And then you lean over to get closer to his face. "I dare you…"

[crplpunkklavier]

do you have any advice for writing klavier? your characterization of him is so strong and interesting and I have an idea for a fic I want to write but I can't quite figure out his like.. voice? if that makes sense?

OOOHOHOOHOHOH

putting everything under a cut because i wrote like 1.6k LOL

thank you, first of all!! im happy you like the way i write him :] and i had some trouble getting into his voice at first too! i think its because hes Not Like Other Prosecutors, within the feeling of the games, since he is immediately in your corner with no downsides and almost consistently nice to you.

one important thing about his characterization/voice i think is that "almost," though. approximately once per trial, klavier says something balls to the wall insane, rude, and tactless.

transcript from turnabout corner:

Klavier: ...How ironic that you would kill the one man capable of helping you. You're almost as careless as he was! ...Ah ha ha ha. Wocky: …… Apollo: …… Klavier: Well, now that the place is hopping… Let's get this gig started!

turnabout serenade:

Ema: You... You jerk! Just what was I in here for? Comic relief!? Trucy: Yeah! Apologize! Klavier: Ah ha ha. Oh, sorry!

turnabout succession:

Brushel: Actually, I did notice something when I visited the studio. I'd heard of poison that "takes its sweet time", see! Klavier: ...But not what I've been saying for the last few minutes, apparently.

those are just some favorites off the top of my head. my point is that it's important to not get caught up in the nice guy thing klavier has going on. i actually think he veers more toward "kind but not nice"! he absolutely is a good guy, he's there with you to find the truth and he will weather any storm his fucked up social circle brings him if that means finding the right killer, but he is also very frequently kind of a bitch.

-

his speaking voice specifically gave me grief at first. writing miles and phoenix into scenes together is easier, because phoenix talks like a normal guy who was born in the 90s, while miles is a lot more posh (although miles is also plenty rude, but that's a rant for another time). klavier is a prosecutor, famous, and evidently rich, but he doesn't necessarily sound like that. a lot of his Cool Rock Star Lingo however sounds stilted, too. he's kind of suspended between two worlds and doesn't seem to neatly fit into either of them. i don't think that's a problem that needs solving when writing him though! i think in essence klavier attempts to bring the cool, chill vibe of rock'n'roll into the seriousness of law to loosen things up, and he also brings the pedantic perfectionism of law into music to shape it to his will.

the german gimmick is part of that too, for me. this isn't supported by canon since we never see him off work there, but i just like to headcanon that his go-to german phrases (ie herr/fräulein, achtung, etc) are very much part of a deliberately constructed persona. if he isnt on a stage (and a courtroom counts as one) he has no need for those, so i leave them out. since i personally still write him as a native german speaker, occasionally he'll still slip into real german or struggle with translations for things, but all those little pleasantries he throws around for show fall away when it's just him alone.

-

back to his character, i know we all lament how little screentime he got and how the writers seem to have forgotten about him. and so maybe this was entirely by accident, but just from the way he is presented in aa4, i think klavier presents a very rich character with a lot of seeming contradictions, which of course just serves to make him more complex. here's some facts i just think say a lot about him.

his shoes look like biker boots, so he's wearing proper footwear to ride his literal harley davidson, but he is also wearing the suit he wears to court.

the glimpse we catch of his music sounds like classic hard rock to me, with his and daryan's looks supporting a glam rock edge to it. he says he likes poetry, which makes sense given the fact that he writes lyrics (this is also something the brothers have in common, so it's likely that they grew up with it).

when romein letouse's body goes missing and they have to go look for it, klavier says that he is having fun.

lamiroir's music is nothing like his own, yet klavier clearly appreciates her to the point where he felt it was an honor to perform with her.

when his trial against phoenix comes closer and closer to the point of no return, klavier repeatedly tries to give him an out. i guess this could be construed instead as him baiting phoenix into presenting the diary page, but i dont really know about that. klavier was cheeky with him and kept talking about the old versus the young, but that still implies a knowledge of just who phoenix wright is, who he was up against, and what phoenix stood for. klavier, assuming that phoenix knew that the evidence was forged, told him that he does not have to present it, that now is the time to give up and back out, and then he would have let him get away with it. it's only when the page was actually in the open that he fully succumbed to the belief that phoenix wright was crooked beyond repair, and that he had to be removed from the courts.

he personally comes to the wright anything agency the morning after the turnabout serenade concert, to give apollo the news that machi requests him as his counsel. why did he do this?? phoenix could have been there. klavier didn't have to deliver this message himself. he apologizes for how that evening went, while also fearlessly standing in the lion's den of the guy whose life he (ARGUABLY.) ruined

-

i think one of the most important things for writing klavier is that whatever facet of his life youre writing, he is feeling everything very deeply. he fits right into the artist trope for that. only his art goes further than music, and extends into law.

whatever klavier gavin does, he wants to do it perfectly, and he makes it his very personal responsibility if that doesn't work out. he took it upon himself to register daryan as a witness before apollo could request it. when apollo starts accusing kristoph in succession, he says he wants concrete proof, or he is "off this case." why would he stay on the case with concrete proof? that's his brother. he doesn't have to prosecute his brother. if being "off the case" is an option, then he can and should walk, but he doesn't. klavier sticks things out until the very, very bitter end, because he feels that no one else can, and that makes it his responsibility. and he does not run away from responsibility.

and he's genuine. that's one point i feel like people tend to forget when writing him. the whole rock star thing and the shiny smile can lead you into thinking that everything he does is an act, but i don't think it is. klavier cares very deeply and he shows you this openly. he doesn't fully break down while he's at work, but that only means that he is an adult with a good grasp on his self-control.

which brings me to one more point, and that is the fact that he was a professional at age 17. and not just in law, but also in music. i'm sure we've all heard music industry horror stories, now imagine you're 17 years old and deep in there through over-night fame. klavier was then already a lawyer, already had his band together, stood tall with his degree and his creativity and knew exactly where he wanted to go. but he was fucking seventeen. somewhere out there, klavier grew up really, really fast.

he evidently knows a lot about music, he is fully in charge of that concert, he writes his own songs, he potentially even mixes it himself instead of having staff to do that. he is an extremely good investigator and prosecutor, figuring out cases before anyone else does and then playing his cards so meticulously correct that he essentially puts work into his own loss. once he realizes that apollo's clients are innocent, klavier has to figure out moves to convince the entire court that he's wrong, all while keeping up appearances, and he manages.

klavier is extremely good at everything he does, because he has to be. because he was seventeen.

-

and after all that.... bro....... i think it's important to let him be happy.

i put him through a lot in exorcism. canon already puts him through a lot, and then i put him through more. i think he's complex and tragic, but he can't be only that. he plays air guitar in court! there's a still of his concert in canon where he passionately dips his microphone stand like they're dancing. he loves what he does!!! hes having fun!

he clearly has hobbies and interests and it's important to give them space between all the angst. doesn't he even say something about it being time to bury the teenage angst in the past? i think klavier actively wants to be good. he's had a turbulent life with fabulous ups and devastating downs, but he deliberately wants to come out okay.

and i think he puts in the work. because it's what he does.

so you're writing a young adult who has been a young adult for a little too long, who faces hardships with grim determination because he knows that he's strong enough to come out on top, and who makes morbid jokes and laughs about them while everybody else stares on in horror. hope this.... helps :')