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silverwhittlingknife · 5 months

Note

How would you describe Tim's people skills? Especially when you compare them to Dick's?

Hi anon, this was a fun ask!! I picked out a few panels for each of them (comforting friends, a bit out of sync with friends, fighting with friends, and offering practical support to friends) just to get a quick look at their people skills in action, and then I rambled on about my thoughts on their strengths and their weaknesses.

(Caveat: I'm going to try to focus on my ideas about differences between the two of them, since we're comparing, but I do think they're socially more similar than not, so you might also want to check out @bitimdrake's post on Dick and Tim's similarities for the big picture!)

Short version: I think they've both got good people skills. Dick's are a bit better and more natural, whereas Tim's are more practiced and learned (in ways that sometimes show).

Let's start with Dick first, and then I'll get back to Tim.

Dick

Comforting friends in Titans Secret Files:

Dick: Will you go back in there and sit down? This is my house. You don't need to clean up after me! Donna: I know, I just... I just ... Dick: Hey, hey... what's the matter? Donna: Nothing. It's nothing. Dick (reaching out to supportively grip her shoulders): Donna, this is me here, remember?

A bit out of sync with friends (but still getting along well) in Titans 3:

Dick: The movie runs 98 minutes. So if we fast-forward past the coming attractions and watch only half the credits, I can still make it back to Blüdhaven in time to - Roy: Nightwing, chill. Team morale demands that you relax and enjoy yourself.

Fighting with friends in Titans 13:

Dick: We haven't used it much, Changeling. But that's gonna be different. Starting right now. Our performance against Tartarus and the HIVE was unacceptable. Each and every one of you should thank God you weren't killed. Kory: How dare you? How can you just stand there talking to us like we're a military detachment -

Giving support to relative strangers in Nightwing 87:

Neighbor 1: Oh, he - he's a true gentleman, you know? Always holds the door, or helps me up the stairs with my groceries if we both come in at the same time... Neighbor 2: ...used his motorcycle to jumpstart my car one morning and even got my brother-in-law a job with Wayne Enterprises when he got laid off... Neighbor 3: ...and he's very, very, very nice and doesn't talk down to me. Plus he lets me use his basketball.

Offering practical support (making dinner) in Prodigal:

Tim: I can't believe you can actually cook... Dick: I like to eat. Tim: So does Bruce - but he had to order Chinese last night. Dick: That's where I'm one up on him - I've lived on my own without an Alfred. Still miss him, though... He was good for a lot more than cooking and cleaning. Tim: Yeah. But at least we don't have to miss him on empty stomachs.

Strengths:

I think Dick's people skills are pretty simple: he has them! He's good at people! And I tend to think of Dick's people skills as so automatic they're mostly instinctive. It's not something he really has to think about because it's so ingrained in him. A combination of natural talent plus a childhood spent around sociable performers means Dick's just really highly attuned to the people around him.

And I don't think he's particularly obvious about it. So e.g. you could be having a conversation with Dick where he didn't seem like he was paying close attention, but if there was An Important Moment where you got anxious for a moment or let something important slip or let a bit of anger show through etc. - Dick will have picked up on it, even if it's unconsciously, and it'll stick with him and come back to him later.

And just generally - I think Dick has good instincts for who he can trust and who he shouldn't trust; when he's treading on conversational landmines he'll often pick up the unease even if he doesn't have the context to know why there's a problem; if he's trying to comfort and trusts his instincts he'll often do the right thing even if he can't justify in words why he felt like that was the right thing to do.

So I think for Dick, there's always the level of conscious awareness - the things he's aware he knows, if you will - and the level of unconscious awareness - things he senses, but maybe can't explain, or maybe doesn't want to know so he's suppressing the thoughts.

So he's good at leading, and he's good at comforting, and he's good at listening, and he's good at figuring out the right thing to say...

Like, he's good at all of it, so it's actually sort of difficult to elaborate because there's just not that much nuance? Given any particular interpersonal situation, Dick has an excellent chance of getting a quick read on some random guy he's just met and then getting the reaction he wants pretty fast, whether it's intimidating the guy or comforting him or getting him to cooperate or taunting him until he loses his temper, etc etc etc.

Obviously Dick's not a mind reader, and he can get things wrong, especially when he's in the throes of one of his own personal crises, but generally I think Dick's very very sure-footed with people, even with strangers.

Weaknesses:

This isn't a weakness precisely because Dick's usually doing it on purpose, but he'll sometimes have fights with his friends because they think he's acting overly professional/detached and he thinks they're not being professional enough. So e.g. in Titans 13, you can see Dick's set up the room almost like he's leading a business meeting, and he's the boss lecturing them, and they're reacting by getting mad at him. Part of this is basically a Traditional Bat Problem - Tim's friends also balk because they feel like Tim's keeping them at a distance - but Dick tends to lean especially hard on "I'm The Leader Here So Shut Up And Do What I Say" professionalism / distancing.

When things are going well, Dick's friends may grumble at his intense professionalism but basically appreciate it (this is basically how things go in their reunion in TT vol 2); when things are not going well, though, it becomes a point of tension. Generally, Dick gets extra-professional as a coping mechanism when under stress, as here in TT vol 2 12:

To the extent that Dick falters with social skills, it tends to be almost exclusively with people he knows well, not with strangers. Dick sometimes struggles with maintaining relationships, largely because he's often juggling multiple responsibilities; he'll sometimes get hyperfixated on something and deprioritize his more stable relationships (so e.g. when he gets fixated on trying to fix Blüdhaven and gets distracted from his relationship with Babs).

Somewhat relatedly, if things start going wrong in his own life, he tends to self-isolate out of shame and avoid everyone he thinks of as more put-together. So, for example, in the aftermath of Blockbuster, he's a self-destructive mess who's trying to dodge and/or drive away Clark and Roy and Tim (all people who care about him and would want to help), but Sophia Tevis and Rose are two messed-up young strangers in trouble and their obvious neediness trips his "urgency" meter, plus he may be a mess but they have no context to realize that so he doesn't feel so self-conscious, and he's able to be drive-by super-helpful to them and then dive right back into privately self-destructing.

Also not a weakness per se, but he tends to be a bit of an introvert in general - he and Wally are close, but they go long stretches of time without catching up; when he's spending time with friends, usually it's Donna / Wally / the Titans / Tim visiting Dick rather than the other way around; he's more likely to get cajoled into joining a team than the other way round - Wally talks him into rejoining the Titans and Roy talks him into joining the Outsiders. He likes people and likes spending time with friends, but he's usually not the one initiating a social gathering. He's self-aware about this; in Titans 9, he muses, "It's not the newness that's the problem. The problem is the old stuff. The ruts. You know someone long enough - well enough - and you fall into a rut with them... you completely take the relationship for granted..."

Relatedly, because Dick's pretty self-contained, he has a recurring problem where loved ones interpret him as distant or detached or indifferent even when he's still passionately attached - both Kory and Babs break up with Dick in part because they feel like he's not really that committed to them (also there are mmm Problematic Plotlines involved but I'm ignoring those for the purposes of this post), and in both cases IMO they're misreading him. He's deeply upset by both breakups and responds with big declarations of feeling and, uh, proposing marriage shortly afterward. (Okay, so he's not ALWAYS sure-footed sdfdsfs)

When Dick's getting something wrong, it's usually because he's upset and overcompensating - when things with Kory and Babs are tense, he tries to fix it with Big Gestures; when Vic's mad at him about spying, he missteps with an elaborate secret plan culminating in a big dramatic offering of a new body which Vic does want... but he's still understandably miffed at Dick for making a bunch of decisions behind his back instead of talking to him. Dick guesses right about something Vic will want, but because Dick when he's feeling guilty tends to slide into I-Am-The-Leader, I-Must-Fix-Everything-By-Myself, I-Am-Responsible-For-Everything mode, he forgets that the whole original problem is connected to not respecting Vic's autonomy / right to make decisions for himself, and that a better gesture would be asking Vic what he wants instead of once again making decisions on his behalf without consulting him. (I'm sympathetic to Dick's spying-on-Vic plan on account of how Vic did turn into an evil moon for a bit - comics are bonkers, you guys sdfdsfs - but I'm also very sympathetic to Vic feeling that he deserved fuller disclosure here.)

And you can see similar patterns in lower-key conflicts too: every time Dick gets accused of being just like Batman, it's usually because he's coming off as harsh or detached or uncaring (sometimes on purpose because he's pushing people away; sometimes just because Dick handles grief and fear by shutting down; sometimes because his the-buck-stops-here leadership style can come off as overly-detached), even though Dick actually cares SO SO MUCH, all the time, about everyone he knows.

But honestly... these weaknesses exist, but they're minor in comparison to his strengths?? Dick's a guy with a lot of very strong friendships for a reason. He's true as steel and once he cares about you, he cares about you forever. <3

OKAY! So that's Dick. Let's finally move on to...

Tim

Comforting friends in Joker's Last Laugh 3:

Tim: Babs? Is everything okay? (hugs her)

A bit out-of-sync with friends (but still getting along well) in Young Justice 7:

Cassie: A campout isn't a campout without a real fire. It's no fun at all. Tim: But the generator is far more efficient, Cassie. It's non-polluting, it poses no threat of forest fire, and it's... it's ... (taking in everybody else's expressions, sighing, reversing course) It's no fun at all. Impulse, can you...?

Fighting with friends in Adventure Comics 3 (stonewalling, avoidance, and lying!)

Conner: You weren't picking up. Tim: I didn't know it was you. Conner: I turned off my caller ID blocking. Tim: I was busy. I am busy. Conner: Too busy to talk to your best friend? Tim: Yes. No.

Giving emotional support to relative strangers in Robin 98 / 100 / 156:

Wesley: I just wanted to thank you. They tell us at the meetings that it's important to let people know how you feel. You did a lot for me - making me sober up. If you hadn't taken the time to notice - (Later) Tim: You're gonna stay strong, right? (Wesley: Right.) Tim: You're gonna stay sober, okay? (Wesley: Okay.) Tim: You're gonna do it 'cause - Wesley: 'Cause if I don't you'll come back and kick my butt all over campus. Tim: Uh huh.

(The redhaired guy was about to jump. Tim convinces him to sit down and talk first.) Tim: So, you're in college? Guy: Yeah, I'm a freshman. How'd you know? Tim: Just a hunch. I'm guessing you don't like it much. Guy: I always hated high school. Always felt like I was outside looking in, never part of any group or anything. I was on the diving team but even then I didn't feel like part of it. The only good thing was that was where I met Lori, my girlfriend.

Offering practical support (medical care and tea) in Batgirl 59:

Tim (treating her injury as she shares her traumatic past): Whoa. That's ... horrible. Cass: That's nothing. Stephanie and I used to laugh about - oh... uh... never mind. Wait, Tim. I... I'm so ... stupid, I don't - Tim: You're not stupid. Want some tea? Cass: I ... uh... yeah. Thank you.

Strengths:

Tim! I think Tim's also pretty decent at people - not as good as Dick, but hardly anyone is?

I tend to think of Dick as instinctively good at people, and Tim as more consciously good at people.

Tim spends a lot of time being intentionally watchful: observing, spying, psychoanalyzing people, paying careful attention to what they say, thinking about what makes them tick. (And Tim psychoanalyzes himself, too. Tim is studiously engaged in the study of Tim, and of Tim's friends, and of Tim's family. He's often playing a role, even when that role is "Tim Drake.")

So e.g. in Red Robin, at one point Tim has an elaborate domino-falling database where he's compiled a list of villains he wants to fight and how he wants to fight them, all leading up to a very careful takedown plan for Boomerang where he's thought through and anticipated Boomerang's every move ahead of time... and he's basically right! He gets it all right!

And this kind of intensely-studied logical chess-game of "he will do this for this reason, and then this for that reason, and the other people will respond in this way, like a series of dominos, and I've thought through all the possibilities" is Very Tim to me, and I feel like... this is just the sort of thing that Dick would never ever do?

And mostly Dick wouldn't do it because he wouldn't have to. When Dick's skeptical of James Gordon Jr., he goes to talk to the guy and feel him out, and he ethically feels obliged to give him the benefit of the doubt because there's no evidence against him, but he's got a bad feeling and doesn't trust him and secretly slaps a tracer on him because he's got an instinct he'll want it, and he's right: James Jr. is up to something, and that tracer is exactly the thing that Dick needs.

And similarly if Dick wanted to goad James Jr. into doing something, I think he'd go off and meet him and goad him into doing it, and he'd have an instinct for what to say to make that happen - I think the whole elaborate domino plan that Tim comes up with for Boomerang would feel unnecessarily complex to Dick. Not that Dick doesn't make complicated plans, because he absolutely does, but Dick doesn't usually overthink people.

Similarly, if Dick had been the little kid in Lonely Place of Dying, he'd have gotten worried and gone straight to Bruce and talked to him, not gotten worried and taken photos of Bruce from a distance and then come up with an elaborately overthought plan to go to New York and track down his estranged son and fix him that way. And, like. Kid!Tim's not entirely wrong! He's correctly picked up on a very real and very strong connection between Bruce and Dick even though he doesn't know either of them! And given how little actual information Tim has, this is actually an impressive plan (it's a bad plan, because Tim doesn't know about their fights, but it's an impressively solid plan given that his entire information basis is "watched them from a distance and collected news reports"). But this isn't how Dick thinks about people.

Backing up to a more general point: Tim values people skills really really really highly. I think "uses interpersonal skills to help and comfort other people" is one of Tim's highest values and arguably the highest value - he imprinted on Dick because he was kind, and then imprinted on Batman because he was comforting Dick. And he has six million After-School-Special-style plotlines where he tries to comfort / advise / rescue / etc. people in various stages of emotional distress and who are using bad coping mechanisms. His very first outing as Robin involves talking down a semi-suicidal shooter; the big finale of YJ has Tim talking Secret down from her rampage; he's very gentle when he's comforting his girlfriend after she confides in him about a maybe-attempted-rape; he talks down a suicidal college student in Robin; plus there's the entire concept of "Batman needs Robin" in the first place; not to mention his obsession with the importance of friends; and so forth.

So it's something that he's good at because it's something he values and works at. His people skills are conscious and learned. He does a fair bit of amateur psychoanalysis of other people's problems, and he's generally good at identifying the problems, even if he's not always great at fixing them. And he's often playing a role, or imitating other people, rather than being himself; he invests a lot of time constructing alternate identities; he's often more comfortable wearing a mask. (It is just so typical of Tim that his civilian friendship group is the DCU version of D&D players.)

So his practiced-people-skills work decently well, because he's diligent and he cares a lot, and he's better at people when he's older than when he's younger. And he's extremely good at things he's had a lot of practice with, like meeting new schoolmates, or making small talk, and he's friendly and he likes people, and he's good at learning scripts and following them, and he only tends to misstep when he's distracted or unusually anxious or when he's in a situation where normal social norms don't help. (Of course, since he's a vigilante and not an ordinary person, distracted / unusually anxious / weird situation are all things that happen more often than you might think!)

I also think Tim has a few caretaker instincts that have become automatic - generally he's hyperaware of when people are upset and usually tries to reach out or fix it, and even when he's trying to keep himself at a distance he'll slide into caretaking sometimes - so e.g. there's that moment in Batgirl with Cass when Tim's kinda upset with her for siding with Batman (and distancing himself from other people in general), so he's not intending to get close to her, but also what we see him doing is treating her wounds and then getting her tea. And meanwhile Cass actually wants to reach out, and she's intensely observing him and worrying and wanting to help, but what she actually does is... drink the tea. That Tim got her. While she stays firmly on her side of the couch.

(I tend to think of Cass as slightly similar to Tim but at the very very very beginning of her learn-to-people journey here? Like Tim, she cares!! A lot!! And she's successfully understood that Tim's upset, and she knows when she's put her foot in her mouth. But she's not sure what to do yet.)

Weaknesses:

Tactless! This is a tricky word because I think people sometimes hear 'tactless' and misunderstand it as 'generically rude,' but that's not quite the issue - Tim's quite polite most of the time; his problem is that his default mental monologue is very detached / psychoanalyzing / analytical, including about himself and things he's emotional about. He'll often be analyzing his own emotions even in the process of having them (I also talk about this a little here, though it's mostly a post about Dick and anger), and Tim's also constantly analyzing other people.

This means that if he doesn't edit his brain-to-mouth filter, he can come off as too detached or professional or calculating.

This is obviously similar to Dick's problem of coming off as too detached / professional - again, they're both Bats - but it's not quite the same thing, and I think this distinction is most obvious if you look at the places where they're doing it on purpose and picking fights:

Dick's most likely to pick fights by pulling rank: "I'm the boss, you all fucked up this mission and you better not do it again, shape up or shut up." This is a kind of distancing that's about Dick-the-impassive-boss and you-the-subordinate.

By contrast, Tim's more likely to pick fights via hostile psychoanalysis: "I notice you're being snide about Cass again, but we both know you're actually just mad that Bruce cares about her more than he cares about you." When he's miffed, both his inner monologue and the things he says tend toward 'uncharitable analysis of your emotional weaknesses,' and this is something he periodically directs at Bruce / Jason / Damian. This is a kind of distancing that's about Tim-the-hostile-analyst and you-the-unfortunate-target-of-analysis.

(Caveats: I don't think Tim's above trying to pull rank if he can, but he rarely has the opportunity; Dick's not above jabs at other people's weaknesses when he's very defensive and feeling attacked - junkie, elevator - but IMO he's more likely to pull rank, whereas Tim's jabs are more likely to be wrapped up in insulting psychoanalysis, so e.g. Jason's insecurity is his problem. The Jan Brady of the Batfamily.)

You can see related similar-sounding-but-different issues if you look at some of their respective breakups. So e.g. Dick has a breakup with Babs in which she thinks he doesn't care about her, and Tim has a breakup with Cassie in which she thinks he doesn't care about her. And these breakups are different for six million reasons (among other things, Dick and Babs have a pretty intense romance, whereas, uh, Tim and Cassie have had one date and IMO she's very right that they're better off as friends).

But you also get some useful character notes:

Babs is wrongly anxious that Dick's mostly in love with nostalgia for their past rather than the person she is now (he 100% does love the person she is now!) and she's being unfairly bitchy about Catalina, but she's also correctly noted that he's gotten into the habit of deprioritizing their relationship in favor of vigilante busywork & that he's been a bit pushy in swooping in protectively rather than letting her fight her own battles, so when she's accusing him of being a control freak it's not completely coming from thin air; Dick responds by getting hurt, upset, and direct (he gets furious and punches something, but then makes a big sweet sincere emotional speech to her about how much he cares and values her, albeit one that's so caught up in his own emotions like wanting to "protect" her that he's not slowing down enough to take in her insecurities).

Cassie has correctly realized that dating Tim is a bad coping mechanism and she really needs to just deal with her grief over Conner; when she starts crying, at first Tim moves to comfort her, but when she actually clarifies the breakup, an upset Tim responds by aggressively de-emotionalizing the conversation and pretending he's being totally logical and not emotional about it - he first wonders aloud if he's a bad detective for not seeing it coming and then attempts a bonkers guilt-trip suggestion that it's their duty to date in order to uhhh avoid turning evil in the bad future (sdfsfdsfdsfds sure tim nice try)

This isn't because Tim literally doesn't have feelings, because of course he does! But often, the more upset he is, the worse he gets at clearly expressing those feelings, and the more he intellectualizes them or avoids discussing them.

(Caveat: The trouble with any distinction is that it's easy to exaggerate it in ways that are oversimplified, and I want to emphasize that this doesn't reduce to "Dick always expresses emotions, Tim is never emotional," or anything like that. Dick has a bunch of complicated feelings about the intensity of his emotions because he values control and detachment and often is trying to be more detached (I talk more about this in the context of anger here and here); Tim often retreats to faux-analytical detachment when he's actually very emotional; and these are tendencies rather than one-note 24/7 truths - Dick is completely capable of intellectualizing away his emotions; Tim is completely capable of just getting straightforwardly and directly upset. But if you're looking for broad distinctions, I think it's fair to say that Dick's usually better at directly using his words and expressing his emotions, even if he sometimes feels self-conscious shame about it later, whereas Tim tends to self-sabotage and deflect and hide by producing intellectualized faux-logic instead of just being direct about what he wants or what he's feeling.)

An unrelated issue is that Tim also tends to get intrusive when he's anxious, and it gets worse the more he cares about you. Tim really really really wants to know what's going on and has an intense Need To Help, which generally works out for him - this is the entire reason he pushes his way into the Batfamily! - but it's easy to imagine Tim running into people who might not appreciate his busybody sneakiness; so e.g. secretly stalking your friend because he has a bruise, or running your friend's DNA, etc., is... stuff that all comes from how much Tim cares, but also it involves a very fuzzy relationship with other people's privacy, so Tim's friendships that stick around tend to be with people who find this kind of intense observation to be caring rather than pushy. Relatedly, Tim's version of "be protective" can overlap with "be condescending," which means he tends to get along best with confident people like Bruce, who could punt him into a wall and who thus finds Tim's 'disapproving medic' shtick endearing instead of insulting.

Tim also struggles to connect to people for whom he doesn't have an obvious "script" or who don't respond to his usual scripts. So e.g. offering Gar a "you don't like me but let's be friends" handshake worked; offering Cass a "let's be friends" handshake worked; offering the same thing to Damian did not go over so well; and I think this kind of "it usually works so this is my habit now?" thing is very Tim, and I don't think it's the sort of mistake that Dick would make.

More broadly, because Tim's people skills are conscious and learned - the effort sometimes shows! He stares at people. He secretly spies on them. He pokes around in their secrets. Dick can be paying close attention to you and seem like he's not, so that his awareness seems effortless and less intrusive. I think Tim's awareness tends to be a bit more effortful.

That said, though, I don't think that Tim's intensely-observing-you shtick is necessarily obvious except to people who are fairly socially-skilled themselves. When I write fanfic, I generally write from Dick's POV, and I tend to write Dick being hyperaware of when, say, Tim's observing him, or trying to figure out what's going on with him. But I think of that as more "Dick's good at reading Tim and really aware of being watched, so every attempt at subtlety stands out in neon lighting," and I think to someone who's less good at reading people than Dick is, Tim is a lot subtler.

And I think for e.g. someone like Cass, who really struggles with people skills, Tim seems impossibly and naturally good at interactions in the same way that to Tim, Dick seems incredibly good at it.

#ask tag #dick grayson #tim drake #hi anon this is SO OLD i'm so sorry sdfdsfds #i am very slow & this is very long because i kept adding things to it but this was a very fun ask thank you <3

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factual-fantasy · 1 month

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27 Asks! Thank you!! :DD🦎

@driftwoodmfb

Its simple, Arceus made them! :0 He made Litwicks, Lampents and Chandelures at the same time. The Litwicks ate the Lampent plorts, the Lampents ate the Chandelure plorts, and the Chandelures made more Litwicks! :00 Same goes for every other slime species on the planet.

I actually love your cat so much

I am not familiar with "Six the Musical".. <:0 Sorry!

@quietmakesglark

WAHAHAHGGGG THANKYOU SO MUCH!!!!!😭😭💞💞💞THUIS WAS ALL SOSWEEETT THANTKOYIYUUU!!!💞💞💞🥺🥺💞💞

@glitchhayden (Last ask was in this post)

OHH I see XDDD I kind'a want one-

@abaroo

<XD Yeah, poor Sally.. I was thinking that she doesn't really need to sleep or rest and is always on the go! So early birds like Frank and Howdy are her go to friends. And Julie usually has a fair amount of time and energy to spare for her sister! :))

AAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DDD IM SO GLAD YOU LIKE MY EDDIE AND WALLY!!!! :}}}}}

🥺💞💞💞 AAAAAAA I'm so glad you like him!!! :}}}}}}

(Referencing this post)

There was a time where Wally had a particularly big meltdown/panic attack over Home watching him. In response Barnaby invited Wally to stay at his house for a few days to see if the different environment helped at all.. which it did.

So nowadays whenever Wally gets really stressed, he crashes at Barnaby's house.. Home doesn't like Barnaby because he keeps taking Wally away from it.. 👁️👁️

But thankfully I don't think Home could really hurt Barnaby.. other than maybe opening a door causing him to stub his toe- <XD

@littlelightfish

👀👀

(Referencing this post)

Man, I always miss one spelling error. 😔

Also thank you! I'm glad you like them! :)))

I put "#do not tag as ship" on all my Welcome Home posts. If people start coming at me for it I'll deal with them.. <XD thank you for the concern though! <:)

@milk-powrit (Referencing this post)

:DD Thank you! And hey- its not necessarily to be mean! Home is not not particularly interested in them because they're just normal neighbors <XD Plus they don't come around often sooo...

@tallchest13-blog

That is the most creature I have ever seen!! :000

@burnt-pie-eater

This Christmas comic and this dream comic are good examples! :0 Seeing himself as his human body with puppet colors. Seeing things or people from his human life..

I'm thinking of making it so any bugs Eddie sees look like real bugs. Weird dark roaches and spiders. Which is why he's scared of them.. 👀👀

@caprico54

Yes yes! :DD When Eddie was human, he was a mailman! So his job as a mailman now is the only thing that feels natural and familiar to him... Which is why he's so unnaturally good at it! :00

@i-only-created-this-to-read

Hmm.. I imagine that the pipes and plumbing are apart of Home. But only in the walls. The pipes the come up from the ground and attach to Home are not apart if it.

I'm thinking if you completely tore Home down and rebuilt it somewhere else, it would flicker to life again. If you split the materials of home between 2 houses, I think only one would actually be alive and "home". It would make sense if one part of Home was where its life came from. But I'm not sure what that would be.. Maybe the fireplace is the heart? Monster house style? <XD

I imagine whatever is apart/meant to be apart of Home is its body. A meteor crashing through wouldn't be part of it <XD And any hanging pictures or furniture is not apart if it. The walls are its bones and the paint becomes its skin. If you tore down a wall that wood stops being apart of Homes body the moment it is detached. If you build a new wall, it might take a moment.. but it will eventually become apart of Homes body.

As for the old rotted wood, I imagine that Wally chopped it up and used it for fire wood :0 The new wood that Wally installed in the walls became Homes new body.

<:( You will find someone new someday friend! There's a lot of bees in the hive!

(Referencing this post)

XDD Naahhh its ok, Grim's just nomin. He wont hurt Sylvester! :)

@taco-hyeh (Sent after this post)

Man, if only my mega Grimace comic didn't turn out to be so giant <XD I would have PLENTY of angst for you!

@kitschie

Home right now can be best described as.. curious.. but also somewhat malicious. It watches Wally and Eddie because its curious about them. But it can clearly tell that watching them causes panic attacks and makes them very upset. Yet it doesn't stop. If anything it watches them more intensely when they cry..

When it comes to if they could figure out what it wants.. its hard to say if Home even really wants anything. It just likes to watch and see the Wally react to its stares... that, an the fact that Home probably cant communicate outside of slamming windows and doors-

@calsoutghosthunting

Oh? I've only seen it from 1 artist, is it becoming a trend? :00

I don't know how I feel about it.. I mean its cool! But I might not draw it with my Sona personally <XD Reminds me of this old Journal drawing trend that I did a long while back.. 🤔

@spirited-splashes

AAAA THANK YOU!!! :DDDD I wish you luck in your journey! :)) AND REMEMBER!! The comfort has to be just as healing as the angst is hurting!! :}}}

(Referencing this post)

If you look closely, the hat is actually just Sylvester's ribbons! XDDD

#my response #slime rancher #welcome home

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eulaliasims · 5 days

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Shep round 1, 1/2

Shep gets to be my trial-and-error sim and go first this round. As you can see, she's super thrilled about it.

She soon spots Norweni, starting off on her usual rounds from the Seax farm next-door, and rushes to say hello. Shep has only recently set up shop in Veridia, moving out on her own from her mothers' home nearby, but Norweni's travels and younger exploits are legendary in the wider area. Shep would love to hear some stories, maybe over a cup of mead sometime--

Norweni: That's all in the past. I prefer not to talk about it. Everything good here? You need anything?

Shep: Uh, no--

Norweni: Great. Let me know if that changes.

Can we all stop standing in the decorative cart???

Okay, Norweni's kinda brusque, whatever. Shep has stuff to do anyway, like trekking over to the public well to draw water--

--and, more importantly for a Popularity sim, socialize! One of her new neighbors introduces herself as Derelei. Derelei is quick to catch Shep up on everything from the newest gossip to the recent weather.

Eisu: Ahh, I remember that stage. It'll pass, heh. You just gotta let them test their independence!

Wolfric: :(

Derelei: Here's a free sample for you to mess around with!

Is it the fucking widescreen TV

Derelei: (: (:

Of course it is.

Shep has to skedaddle home before long with her illicit TV. Seeds need sowing, and she needs to check on the skep. Her mothers insisted she take a queen cell to start a hive at her new homestead. She's not looking to start making mead like them... but the honey would be nice.

I'm having to spend a lot more time managing Shep's needs than I'm used to! That will probably be easier in the multi-sim households, where the work gets spread around more, I hope.

After a hard two days of planting, Shep treats herself to a trip to the bathhouse and Veridia's mead hall. The cook at the hall makes a mean pasty, and Shep spends some time afterward introducing herself to more locals, like Fial, Norweni's sister, and Helenet the midwife. Shep heard rumors that Helenet is some sort of witch or fae, but she doesn't see any pointy ears, and Helenet seems perfectly nice, if a little shy.

The wheat is coming along nicely; the weeds are also coming along nicely. Gardening works up quite an appetite; Shep has to admit, she misses having Mama's fresh bread and cheese ready and waiting at noontime.

Shep has a much less awkward chat with Norweni at the well when Norweni inquires about how the garden is going. Apparently she just really isn't interested in talking about past things.

Also at the well is Shep's new friend, Derelei! She's so easy and fun to talk to.

#TS2 #eulalia: Veridia #sims: Shep #sims: Norweni #I decided to do posts old school style aka many picture few post

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thenightfolknetwork · 10 months

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Hi, we are several hundred rats. More accurately, I am a rat, writing on behalf of my several hundred friends, who are also rats.

It's pretty good, being rats, certainly compared to all the nonsense sapios and other bipeds have to deal with. Like knees, and dentist appointments. Recently, though, we've run into a problem. It's very common for sapios to mistake us for a multi-coporeal entity or a collective intelligence or something of that nature. You know, quote-unquote hive minds. Ignoring the fact that most hives don't actually work like that and the way that the common vernacular exposes the inherent sapionormative biases of the modern social system, it usually isn't a problem. One of us corrects them, the human reacts however they react, no big deal. Their reactions are on them, not our problem.

I'm being asked to add that it's a little sad that the humans don't have the close social bonds that could be mistaken for that kind of thing. So now I have. And now they're discussing whether it's sad or just the nature of the human condition. I'm going to keep writing while they're not trying to co-author this letter.

Well, about three years ago, a colony of cerebrachnids moved in next door with their host body. We don't need to tell you, of course, that brain spiders are actually a collective intelligence. Almost all of us have been of great terms with them since day one. It's nice having someone around who can sympathize with how sapios view us. Rats and spiders, right?

Turns out that they've thought we were some sort of multi-coporeal entity this whole time. It came up last week when some of us were visiting for tea. They've thought for years that we were some manner of genus similar to them, and have just been too polite to ask what we are. I, the rat doing the typing, wasn't there, but the ones who were there all agree that our neighbor got a little weird about it, and they're a lot less overtly friendly since then.

We can't agree if they're feeling awkward, or if they're maybe reevaluating the whole friendship in the light of how we have less in common with them than they thought.

Any advice? Do we just pretend it didn't happen and go on like normal?

Thank you for getting touch, reader – or should I say, readers? I'm extremely heartened to hear how healthy your collective attitudes are to the misconceptions people have about multi-corporeal entities and collective intelligences. I'm also pleased that you recognise your own boundaries in managing other people's expectations and reactions to your lived reality.

That said, I don't think there's any risk of your overstepping those boundaries by reaching out to this neighbour and clearing the air about their misconception. I understand you don't want to take on more than your share of the emotional work. But frankly, simply being aware of that as a potential issue is generally enough to stop it from happening.

There might be any number of reasons for your neighbours' sudden standoffishness. They might be embarrassed by their mistake, or feeling foolish for misunderstanding your nature. Or they might be disappointed at the loss of what they assumed was a friendship built on commonality of experience. The fact is, you won't know until you talk to them.

Invite them over for tea and let them know how much you've missed them. Emphasise how much you all value your relationship with them, and that you're keen that this misunderstanding should be set aside.

I would also take the time to stress how much you do have in common, despite these differences. You may not share the same kind of consciousness as them, but there has been enough shared between you to sustain years of friendship – not only shared interests and talking points, but also deeper commonalities around how sapios treat your genuses.

I don't think anything will be gained by making them feel shamed or punished, especially if they were acting out of nothing more malicious than embarrassment. Give them a little grace, and take the time to clear the air between you properly. Then, with any luck, you'll all be able to shrug this moment off as nothing but an awkward bump in the otherwise smooth road of friendship.

[For more creaturely advice, check out Monstrous Agonies on your podcast platform of choice, or visit monstrousproductions.org for more info]

#answered #the nightfolk network #monstrous agonies

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onenicebugperday · 1 year

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@infinitebutthurt submitted: I was hoping you might be able to identify these honeybees for me. Apologies for the blurry picture, it was a chilly day and the bees were more aggressive than usual so I didnt want to get too close and had to zoom in. Our neighbor has 2 hives, housing 2 different types of bees (one type is more black, one type is more yellow), and they come every day to drink from the pond in my yard. They're located near Seattle, WA but I was told they were brought here from California, so I'm not sure which state they're native to. The only other information I have is that the darker bees have a queen that is very similar in size and appearance to the workers, and that the yellow bees have a queen that's easier to identify.

The only honey bee in the US is the western honey bee, and it is not native to the US. Color can vary between individuals and between hives, but they're the same species.

#animals #insects #bugs #submission #bee #western honey bee #honeybee #congregation

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rosieartsie · 20 days

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little chunk of New Faith I wrote last night; I'm gearing up for my writing group for Not Nanowrimo cuz I'm gonna write this fucking book finally. TW: death, gore, suicide, demon possession stuff

The Dowager home has become a beacon, a hive of activity with all of Mercutio and Vincente’s neighbors turned into mindless worker bees that are swarming in the yard and on the doorstep. Vincente’s stopped the car down the street to watch but even at this distance Mercutio can feel that whatever is wearing Vanessa’s skin is amplifying, expanding outward with a base pulse of pure fucking evil that drums to the anxious beat of his heart. He’s not ready to die. He hasn’t even said out loud how much he loves Vincente, hasn’t tried to kiss him to be dramatically pushed away in rejection, hasn’t fallen in love with someone second best. There’s tons of drugs he hasn’t tried, he’s never been to a theme park, he’s always wanted to visit the city where his parents are from in India, and so much more– there’s so much to live for that he’s fighting the urge to tumble out of the car and run like he’s on fire because they are going to die. The thing in that house is not Vanessa, and if they go in now, God knows what will happen, if He’s even paying attention or gives a shit. What if they’re already eating her, like that girl in Alaska? What if they’re eating her husband, or each other? Cannibalism seems to be part of the sick, corrupt transformation of this new and horrific form of possession, so the people that are steadily wandering down the street towards the Dowager’s, the people in the yard, the people inside– it’s likely that by the end of the night they’ll be dead, chunks torn out of them, blood in their teeth and on their hands and Vanessa will be a pile of parts.

He can’t stop thinking about it– it’s easier to avoid the spiral of detail when it’s some stranger up north, or a town that he never would have known existed if it wasn’t in the newspaper. With Vanessa, who Vincente loves like she is his sister, his own flesh and blood, Mercutio’s imagination is run rampant. Will they break her bones and suck the marrow out? Will they tear at her intestines like taffy? Will they pop her eyes between their canines and suck down the fluid inside? Will they know, somewhere deep down, that they’re eating someone they used to do bake sales with, that smiled and waved when they walked down the street? Or are all the people caught in this trance just… gone? Ms.Dorothy made it difficult to understand. She was gone, maybe, but there, in some ways. Identity adopted, stolen and transformed and made ugly and foreign. But there… he’d felt her, and it, together like a russian doll, one folded into the other, kept inside the other, wearing the same face. He looks over to Vincente, because he isn’t entirely sure why Vincente has stopped. It could be that he’s wanting to observe at a distance, to try and glean some understanding even if Mercutio has already told him none of this makes sense in the ways they know demons. It’s possible he’s preparing himself, Mercutio wouldn’t be surprised at all if he lowered his head and began some long, excruciating prayer calling on all the saints and disciples and Jesus and anyone else important to aid in this insane act of religious martyrdom. Mercutio for his part is praying to all of those useless, ancient figures that Vincente is hesitating because he’s also realized there are things to live for, and going through with this is as good as putting a gun to his head and pulling the trigger, but with a huge helping of irreversible emotional trauma right before hand. A bitter, overwhelming taste of how fucked they are in the form of Vanessa with her stomach cut wide open and her husband made into a thanksgiving turkey followed by a bullet to the dome chaser. Mercutio knows better though. Even as he is half heartedly praying for Vincente to find some shred of self preservation he knows it’s useless. It’s not even because he doesn’t believe so deeply in the ethereal presence of saints or gods, it’s because he knows Vincente better than he knows anyone, and this man will not turn back, now that they’re so close, now that they’re right here and he only needs to park and take those last, fatal steps towards the Dowager household to seal the deal. Whatever he decides to do after that will be grandstanding, a fruitless show of love and devotion that will only end in tragedy.

Mercutio hates this, hates that it will end like this, but he’s here and he won’t let Vincente die all by himself. They’ve been together too long. Best to go out together, with all the potential ahead of them wasted and good intentions to report to whatever waits on the other side. Hell, probably, after all, the road to that particular place is paved with good intentions.

#new faith #it's about to get so bad for these gay exorcists lol #writeblr #original story

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sheisburiedhere · 1 year

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Welcome Neighbor

Chapter One: I'm... Sweetie

Paring: Wally darling x Y/N Sweetheart

Warnings: nothing to worry about neighbors at least...not as yet.

The Darkness

It feels as if it's consuming you as it drags you to the depths of it's unknown ,blocking your vision, clouding your memory, stripping you of your identity. You try to scream but no sound can be heard as your throat fill with intense heat and smoke after every attempt. You close your eyes. You're relentless, you won't stop , someone will help you, you just need to keep on trying ...

The Light

For a moment all is quiet as your screams cease, whatever had it's grasp on you decided to let you go.You feel warmth on top you and a gentle cold below. You hear the chirping of birds and the rustling of leaves,you frown your eyebrows wondering where could you be but scared to open your eyes. You muster all courage that's in you and open them to see...

A yellow brick road that surrounds various houses each with very distinct colours and designs. You spin around to observe the rest of your surroundings realising you are on the floor, you push yourself up to stand with both of your hands...

Your hands...

These aren't my...

A shiver goes up your spine...

Your hands are embroidered with a tiny heart on the palms,you look further up to realise your joints are covered in stitches of gold thread. You sweat slightly,as you watch down to see your in a red and white polka dot dress with white stockings and red flats. You instinctively pull out a mirror from your dress and look in disbelief at your reflection. Shiny skin and plump red red lips with your (h/c) hair in a half up bee hive. Your eyes falls on your neck as you see a heart shaped necklace with the word , 'Sweetheart'.

You take in everything that you see in the mirror as take notice of the one thing that raises your brows is your eyes...

Hazel brown heart shaped pupils of your eyes

...

You close the mirror and place it back in your skirt as the sound of footsteps approach you with a loud but friendly, " Hello!". You turn quickly and smile with realising that you are grasping on the something in your hand. "A suitcase huh," you thought to yourself , you turn towards them , taking a hand to wave and giving a great big smile. "Hi there!" You say still grinning,you are greeted by a excited puppet named Julie Joyful. "Oh my name is y/n Sweetheart but my friends call me Sweetie, I just moved here but I'm having a bit trouble finding my house"you tell her without having to think about. She grabs your hand to lead you to the house that is particularly new to their neighborhood,which looks just like your outfit. She talks alot then hugs you and leaves you there to unpack.

You smile , now you have a friend

...

Something is wrong...

How do I know this stuff...I have to remember me...

A knock interrupts your thoughts, you walk to the door and open it to see ,a tall attractive yellow puppet in a blue cardigan and rainbow striped pants. He has a red blush dusted on his cheeks and your eyes widen as you realise you have been staring him down. You cover your face in embarrassment apologizing to him," I am so so sorry," you exclaimed, he takes your hand and smile, " It's really fine I had a quick look myself ,I hope you didn't mind" he chuckled rubbing the back of his neck, " I came to introduce myself to my new neighbor, My name is Wally darling," he says placing a what seems to be a kiss on your hand ,which was a him touching your hand with his mouth and making a muah sound. This made your heart melt and your body feel warm as you eyes turn to a shade red. "Oh! You have very beautiful eyes," he says in awe. You close them smiling not aware of the change and thank him. " Mines is y/n Sweetheart but call me Sweetie-" You open your eyes back up to see his pupils huge and black like a hungry cat seeing a bird

His eyes...

He reverts to it's previous state,as he asks "Would you like to for a walk around the neighborhood tomorrow and have a picnic with me? It will be a great opportunity to meet everyone"

You smile, "That would be very nice Wally, Thank you"

He bids you a good day as he leaves ,you close the door and rest your forehead on it smiling... forgetting your situation. You go to your bedroom and rest , dreaming about tomorrow.

Let's hope everything goes well...

"Welcome Home Neighbor," he chuckles watching you from his home window with his huge black eyes.

#wally darling #wally darling x you #wally darling x y/n #wally darling x reader #requests are welcome #welcome home

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crustaceanchauffeur · 3 months

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OFF CASTE BLOOD COLORS

What is good my mutie crew!? it's your number one old planetary post ban from the Warren coming at you live!

This wipe we're talking BLOOD- The definin' trait of the offcaste, your blood's weird, wet, wacky, and WILD! Be it unrecognizable like our's truly Kankrizzle the Suffering Signless, blurring the hemospectrum like y'all sicknasty cuspies, or switching teams involun T-A-R-L to the Y style like yall funkilicious chromatic transition fellas out there.

So! Blood! You got it in your noodles! You paint it in your doodles! Get a lil freaky you can bake it in your strudels! We all know the 'leven on the spectrum but what about this off-caste biz? What funky hues in your shoes? Now lets get this flow started by covering them SICK base Sics.

The Leven ! You know em, you love em, statistically speakin you probably are one! Its no news to hues that burg through feu...rg.. fuchsieurg... Yeah. We got Burgundy, Bronze, Gold, Ollie, Jade, Teal, Cerulean, Cobalt, Purple, Violet, and the biggie Fuchsieurg. Nothin too inchwrestling in there, unless youve been livin deeper under a rock than even ol me. Naw- What gets you wakin' up are the Cuspies.

Is it hard to tell if you're green or blue? You look one caste in one light and another in another? You got traits of two neighboring castes? You migh' be a Cusp! Now bein' a cusp makes you just as illegal as any offcaste- you just have an easier time blending yourself right on in when y' bloods getten up all close n personal with two a the big eleven.

A good friend of mine- big goldie- real weird blood, real charmer- Now they has a theory goin' up n on that the hemospectrudle is straight up pseudoscience- a real artificial constraint keepin us down- an they think cusps are the numero uno proof. They gave me a counter argument though- real nitpicker, they- that maybe if the hemospectrum is the baseline natural order of thing an thangs and yall cuspies out there are how our spectacular spectrum bleeds together! Give that theory nuff time and hypothetically, the hemospectrum falls either way. Grub for thought I say, that that big oll order falls apart even when let live long and lone.

Some o' th weirder hemo schemos tcha girls beheldos come from what i've been told are called 'chimera,' or eggsplice for th rest o us. The eye to the dios mio es that when all yall of us are all up in big momma G, sometimes we eggy fellas get all mashed up into eachother, an some freaky stuff can hap to the gubabies. Most o the toast one o yalls prelarvas hot lava gets straight up consumed by the other. Not in a blood and food noodles way, but in a needlecritter way, slurpin' up all that good M the Grub Juise an remelting they egg pardner.

This ain' all th time though, sometimes them goopy lil gups get all globby and glue them gushers all gup and gover themgelves, getting gall gestalt and ghiit. This makes one grubtastic eggy with one itty bitty bippy in there with th amino springs o two. Two coexistin' sets jus all up in there harmonious and livin'. This makes some real strange blood and bod combos, on one prong yall can be real up there with the extra huskbits, Arms +1, +2, +3, eyes 100, thats what i call a netcritter-troll. On that otha prong yalls can be straight up indistinguishable from a typicolor grayguy. All depends how creative Momma G got mixing them gups. Supes easy be mistaken for cusphood, muddy blood hues, and blurs.

If your blood looks jus a tad diffrent depining on the limb it calls hive, might be that your crafting recipes a liiitle more diverse than you expect. Not even too many items got a good splanation for you there. And don't think you on-ies are free from splicehood, same caste chimera are a lit bit rarer an a lotta botta stealthier. Chimerahood don't just happen in duos either i hear from the big blue boy, this battle bus can be droppin' with player counts upwards of a whole clutch!

Somethin' thats right up there wit it, the nearhue of the caste mixing filial thicket is those hues that slide from one to two! Thats right yall, changing colors aint just for the ambitious goldies, mad scientists, and dyschromic! Sometimes that sweet slimey bod gets all gunkled up in the sack an apostrophe 'tivates too many acts and yall's amino springs get bouncin' out with a few too many hues! That big ol goldie i mentioned? Yeah his sizzlin sign assigned at pupation? Sagrist. When my man was pupa pan he had two horns straight like spears yet when he got just a lil past when he dodged that big ol fishies order to the borders, they crown was a straight four prong. Mothergrub's orb his prongs split and to this day like a goldie in gray my ashblood bud got a crown like an archecutioner pailed the helmsman. In all my ways an all my days for some U Enty K own reason, blue->au do be real common hue by comparizzle to the average drizzle- I seen three- Achievement get! Not countin' those with some lineated blood apostrophe lations that is.

...

Now tchagrillmaster turned that raw dogg right over and that underside real crispy flesh-carapace-o-tha-point fell right on down t' the smoulderin' smoulderclumps clumped down in the flames, an my pans slipped like y' ancient ancestor down a flight a terraced platform risers. In other words, topic do be switchmaxxing.

Now back round to big graygreen goldie, now I happen to know this tall dark and hornsome fella- real big troll- COVERED in horns all up like a grub got they candied maize picked pre pupate style cranked up a few times. Now when I met this bristly endertroll he wasn' pickin up cubes an zorpin, he was gettin' my good dehornin' friend to zaw right through one o' those big boney boys 'been blockin' his beautiful bulbs, an this cut was a deep cut- hornbeds byebye- blood 'n all an' yall never guess what color a paint this fellas had in his cellas.

Pitch at first second and third sight- cause that blood ain't changin'- color of hate so pure and true, straight up gravity-black oilstyle six ways from nubsday. Straight up color of the tyrant himself! Checked it out and 'was truly id to the cull. Splains the spikes now, dont it?

Now from the stealthy cuspie to the pitch black bloodbrother, Yall know some a the wonderful ways our hues do play.

The overdue yellow-green hue: Oftcas out.

#grumblr #alternia #troll mutations #hemospectrum #homestuck rp #beforus

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mmkin · 3 months

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Ouroboros of Assholery

I was a Harry Potter fan when I was a kid, and have the books and seen the movies. Though I'm not as much of a fan as I used to be, HP is still one of my blorbos and I was chatting with a friend about HP and we were talking about Merope Gaunt. Our conversations inspired me to write this oneshot about Tom Sr and Merope Gaunt.

Dumbledore assumed that Merope bewitched Tom but I've come across discussions and a video picking apart that theory and honestly, it makes a lot of sense. So I present to you this tale.

Summary - In the story of Tom Riddle Sr and Merope Gaunt, it's generally believed that Merope bewitched Tom Riddle, but what if Tom was the real villain of the story? (although one could argue that there's more than one villain here and it's not Merope…)

Ouroboros of Assholery on AO3, also included under the cut.

Content warning - emotional abuse/bullying, but teen safe (no explicit scenes, etc)

Ouroboros of Assholery

The title for this story originated as a tongue-in-cheek comment between me and my friend while we were discussing what happened between Tom and Merope and what little was said of them in the books compared to some interesting fan theories presented about their relationship which made a lot of sense.

But the more I thought about it, the more the title appealed to me on multiple levels because of snakes, self-destruction, and the cycle of abuse and hatred. In mythology, the Ouroboros signifies a more positive or neutral meaning, but as they say, every coin has two sides.

A bit of trivia for my readers – I decided to look up how much weight a pound sterling carried back then. One pound sterling in 1925 is worth about 76 pounds today as of 2024. (97 USD, or 90 Euro)

… man, inflation really bites, doesn’t it? Anyway, enjoy!

o0o0o0o

Little Hangleton, late 1925

It’d been a couple of months since Tom had gone down this road. Due to the topography in this region, the safest and most practical path happened to run by the small Gaunt property nestled against the thick woods that hugged much of Little Hangleton. The path was a perfectly pleasant one unless one of the Gaunts happened to be out and about.

The young man shuddered as he remembered the hives that had erupted on his skin during his confrontation with Morfin – not that he even went after the other man. All he had done was ride on the path as he often did.

He still didn't understand quite how the hives happened. Sure, he'd heard the old stories of witches being burned at the stake, and of spinster women who grew herbs in their gardens for medicines and poultices. Morfin hadn't touched him though, and Tom convinced himself it had to have been some sort of powder.

The Gaunts had been a thorn in the side of Little Hangleton for generations. It was said that the Gaunts had been a wealthy family once, but one would scoff at that if they ever laid eyes upon the Gaunt shack. The men of the Gaunt family were known for quarrels with their neighbors and on occasion, passersby.

Attempts were made to evict them from the land or buy them out, but the Gaunts were as stubborn as they were irascible. His parents told him that it was a surprise that old Marvolo Gaunt even found a wife, for what sane woman would share a home and bed with such a man?

The wife had perished, though her son and especially daughter were not so fortunate. Tom and the other village boys made fun of Morfin when they were children, but learned to avoid the young tramp when he showed a mean streak that went beyond ordinary boyish mischief. He didn't hear or see much of Merope until years later when he noticed her peeking at him several times as he rode along the path on his horse.

Yes, she was ugly and poor, but she was a female, and she admired him. She wasn't the first and surely not the last, and unlike the rest of her family, she'd never troubled him. So let her look, if his handsome face brought a bit of joy to her harsh existence, he'd allow it.

Now here he was, slowing down as he approached the border of the Gaunt property, ready to urge his horse to run if needed. He peered through the trees cautiously. Morfin had not been seen since that strange day with the hives. Less was seen of Marvolo than his son, but there had not been one peep of trouble for a good while now. Perhaps they’d all gotten sick and passed away. If so, he’d offer a few pounds to pay for their funeral expenses, as a show of magnanimity from Little Hangleton’s most respectable family.

He was almost startled when a pale face appeared in the window. Last he'd seen her, she'd looked especially forlorn, which did her sickly, wall-eyed face no favors. He felt a brief tap of disappointment that one of the Gaunts was still alive, but he supposed it was better the girl than the others. He beckoned her out of the house.

She was still quite ugly, but she looked somewhat clean as if she'd done the best with what little she had. She did not see the sneer that was affixed to her face as she stood there at the gate, her head bowed as she shivered there in her shawl.

She said that her father and brother were gone. He politely inquired about her welfare. Mother talked about charity, but he was certain she would have never considered a Gaunt to be one of her recipients. Still, Merope had never caused any trouble – not to him or any of the other people of the village. She looked and sounded quite pitiable – and pliable.

One pound sterling – almost nothing for him – would mean so much to this waif, he thought, thinking of the silver he had in his pocket. He was bored and in need of amusement. But he wanted something different than his usual frolics. It looked like Merope Gaunt could amuse him for a good while. He casually dropped the coin in her hand, like he was a mighty king dispensing a small favor to one of his subjects.

He would not hold the actions of her father or brother against her, he told her. Cause no trouble, and there would be no trouble for her. Let there be a new era between the Gaunts and the Riddles. All he had to do was pluck a few lines and choice words from the classic books he was privileged enough to have in his family's library, and she was so easily dazzled by his charming words.

o0o0o0o

Early 1926

As part of the winter holiday celebrations, the Riddle family handed out bonuses and parcels to their servants. Bottles of whiskey, bolts of cloth, butter, sugar, a few shillings, and perhaps for a few favorite servants, a trinket, enough to add some good cheer and spring to their step. Far less than what the Riddles spent on one another for their gifts.

These small gifts were a lifeline to Merope. She had no real means to support herself. Perhaps if she entered a household as a maid or laundress, but it was not certain that the better-off folk in Little Hangleton would want to hire a girl with the history she had.

He certainly didn’t want her in the Riddle house. But without her father and brother around, she seemed to be doing all right by herself. When he rode by to drop off the Christmas parcel, she looked none the worse for wear, now wrapped in a coat that belonged to her father or brother, which seemed to engulf her. He gave her the parcel and bade her a happy Christmas.

The holiday celebrations kept him busy. There were the parties and visits, so he did not think much of Merope. However, after things settled down, he paid her another visit a few days after New Year's.

With Marvolo and Morfin gone, he gave in to his curiosity and made his way past the gate, riding his horse up the path to near the door, seeing Merope come out. This time, she didn't keep her gaze averted to the ground and actually looked rosy-cheeked as she looked up at him. Or at the very least, she didn't look so sallow or well, gaunt.

I hope you made good use of the money and parcel I gave you, he said. Your kindness meant the world to me, Master Riddle. He expressed a curiosity to see the inside of the shack, remembering the jibing comments he'd made with his friends in their boyhood. Even the poorest folk who lived within the borders of Little Hangleton lived in homes that looked more sturdy than the Gaunt shack.

As he looked around, Tom Riddle thought of the stories of how the Gaunt family had once been wealthy and was morbidly curious how, if the stories were true, had the family come down to this. He'd never seen such poverty. The only saving grace was Merope's efforts to keep the place clean and tidy. Such an industrious little creature, doing her best despite the circumstances that she had been born and raised in.

And from what he had seen, she was also a creature that lived off crumbs. From what he’d witnessed of Marvolo and Morfin, it was easy to imagine they were not easy people to live with or be related to. So he felt a glimmer – only a glimmer – of sympathy for Merope Gaunt. It took so little to make her happy, and for one such as him, how easy it was.

However, he knew that if he were to continue to visit Merope, people would notice, and talk, especially once the weather got warmer and people ventured more outside of their homes. There was only so much he could do in the guise of charity or horseback riding, and he’d been getting bored of Little Hangleton. Things had gotten better since the Great War, and there were some nice places by the sea or in the mountains.

Instead of spending his money on more expensive hotels or villas like he might have done with Cecilia, he found little cottages or flats, amusing himself in the villages along the coasts of the United Kingdom. When he was younger, he’d seen boys only a few years older than him go off to fight in the war. Some of the men, including older brothers of his chums, who returned home told of adventures on the Continent, and he’d felt a tad envious.

At least he didn’t have to fight or risk his life when he left home, and could simply enjoy life without the curious eyes of the villagers on him. Often, he would wander away, exploring the town or its surroundings while Merope kept house for him – at least she spared him the expense of hiring a maid.

He decided to take the game further. He paid a man to perform a quick ceremony for them, giving Merope a plain silver ring. The man wasn’t actually a judge, so the marriage was not valid, but Merope was so taken in by her happiness and his charms that she had no idea she’d been given a wedding that was miserly cheap, even by the standards of the poorer folk of Little Hangleton.

But it suited Tom and his game well. She was almost like a pet, easy to take care of and amuse, and the nice thing was, he didn’t even have to clean up after her.

Tom asked things of her he did not dare ask Cecilia or any other respectable woman, nor did he have to pay for such services or worry about diseases if he’d hired ladies of the night. It didn't take much to get her to agree to such things. He didn't even have to threaten her. It took a few kind words and gentle touches, and the naive girl was putty in his hands. He just had to close his eyes so he didn't see her wall-eyed face, or have her facing away from him when he used her, and at least the view from the back was better.

When it came to intellectual pursuits, Merope seemed none too bright. He bought her a couple of books to see how she might take to them. Reading was a struggle for her, but she was willing to do it if it pleased him, so there was a useful distraction for when he wasn’t in the mood to use her.

One night, he recalled being curious about the Gaunt family history, so he asked her. He’d always thought she was simply a bit feeble-minded, but what spilled out of her mouth made him certain she was also mad like her father and brother were. The locket she had was the last treasure of her family, passed down from a man who had helped to found a great school of magic that was hidden in Scotland, taking in students from all over the British Isles and elsewhere.

She'd never been to the school though, as it turned out. Her father did not approve of how the school took in students who were born of non-magical folk.

Such nonsense. If these people really were wizards with all that power, what the hell were they doing living in such an impoverished state? Nay, this was madness, carried on through the generations. This feeble-minded creature eagerly devoured the crumbs that were left for her, and he seriously wondered if she could even support herself if these crumbs disappeared. He considered dropping her off in a sanitarium somewhere, perhaps in remote Scotland or somewhere overseas.

Besides, it’d been a few months and he was getting bored of her. He’d shown this poor, poorly-bred girl the most kindness she’d ever received in her life. She should be grateful for that, at least. She could find someone else to pity her or hire herself out, her housekeeping skills had proved itself. There were crumbs everywhere if the pitiful girl cared to look.

He continued his games with her, making good use of her before he found the right time to get rid of her. He thought he was careful.

Apparently not, when Merope revealed her pregnancy to him.

He thought of her madness and her health. Of the embarrassment of producing a child with this wretched creature. He did not want to think about how his parents would react. And he most certainly did not want to think – or care – about how Merope would feel.

It all came crashing upon him. The last few months, the casual flirtations, the carefully chosen sweet words and touches, the intimacy. It'd all led down to this. He'd always told himself that when he had a child, it would be one he and his parents would be proud of. A suitable girl would be found, and the Riddle house would be filled with the sound of the pitter-patter of little feet. His mother had had a very difficult childbirth with a stillbirth when he was young and was not able to have more children.

He’d been able to tolerate Merope thus far for the amusements and services she gave him. But now, seeing how far his game had gone, he could only feel anger and revulsion.

Perhaps with a clearer mind, he might have avoided his fate, but that night, he showed Merope a level of cruelty she had never seen from him before. Wretched creature, wall-eyed cretin, madwoman, the words came tumbling out of his mouth as he mocked her and tore her apart in a way that even her father or brother had not been able to accomplish.

You think any of this was real? That someone could ever actually care for the likes of you!

All he wanted to do was get out of there, away from her, and forget that any of this had ever happened. He would find a respectable girl have his family, and continue the Riddle legacy.

He could never recall too clearly what happened next. When he was at his most depressed or contemplative, he would look back upon this and wonder if what Merope said about magic was indeed real.

But something had overcome Merope. She grabbed her wand, one of her few possessions and had belonged to her mother. He'd never given much notice of it before because he never saw her use it, figuring it was nothing more than some silly sentimental knick-knack.

Her eyes fixed upon him with a focus he found disconcerting, and she pointed her wand at him, letting out a screech like a wounded animal.

That was the last clear memory he had of her. He was not to know, or care, that his words had devastated her beyond repair. Her father and brother had abused her so much that the sliver of light Tom Riddle shone into her life had almost literally revived her, and with that light gone, she had no reason to live, not even for the son she carried in her womb.

o0o0o0o

Little Hangleton, August 1943

There was no denying it. There were several pictures of Tom as a child throughout the house, and the teenage boy standing before him could very well be a doppelganger of his younger self. The confusion and shock were evident in his parent's faces as well, and they stared at the intruder.

You abandoned my mother, the boy accused. Tom tried to deny it, of course. For a few seconds, he genuinely did not know who the boy was referring to, he had buried his time with Merope into the deepest recesses of his memory. All he could do was seethe in impotent fury when he understood what Merope had done to him.

Outwardly, he looked healthy and normal, unchanged in all senses. But he lost his ability to have children, and no doctor could help him. He'd become bitter under the weight of his shame and his parents' disappointment in him, unable to cope with his role in the position he'd been in for almost two decades. Merope was long gone, and so was whatever was in her belly, he'd been certain of it.

A few months after Tom's return to Little Hangleton, Marvolo Gaunt came back to the shack for a bit of time, but without his daughter to care for him, he passed away, and the town of Little Hangleton breathed a sigh of relief. But Morfin Gaunt remained a thorn in the side of Little Hangleton for years after his release from prison. Naturally, the brother of Merope Gaunt inquired after her and got belligerent when told that Merope left the town several years ago, never to look back – which was the truth, if not the whole of it. It had taken the threat of being thrown back in jail to stop Morfin from harassing him, but Tom Riddle avoided the path that ran by the Gaunt property.

He’d been so excited when Merope said they were gone after he’d inquired about them. He didn’t think to ask any more questions about them, and had never thought that ‘gone’ simply meant ‘in prison’. Figures that even after that dumb cunt was gone, her brother was still around to cause trouble. Fuck these Gaunts, what were they good for?

She bewitched me, Tom argued. He saw more than simple rage in the boy’s face. There was nothing of the Gaunts in these features, and for a moment, Tom felt regret as he recalled how he was so certain that any child Merope could bear would be defective. What would things have been like if he’d kept tabs on Merope and taken the child from her, giving him to someone else to raise to spare his parents the embarrassment of having a bastard grandchild? He certainly wouldn’t have been the first person to do such a thing.

Filthy Muggles, the boy called him and his parents. He recalled hearing that word many years ago, and he saw a streak of Marvolo and Morfin’s irascibility in the way the boy spoke to him. But the coldness in the boy’s eyes mirrored his own, and as he and his parents were to discover in a few fatal moments, magic was indeed real.

#tom riddle #merope gaunt #harry potter #ouroboros #ouroboros of assholery #tom riddle sr #writing #fanfiction

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