#signed -an only child with plenty of dear friends i do not desire romantically

[dottyistired]

every narumitsu fic that cockblocks naru/mayo by having phoenix be like "she's like a sister to me" makes my heart die a little

you know it's very easy to have a character just say "i don't feel that way about them, they're a friend" right 😭

[azdoine]

A followup on Henry Darger

So about a week ago I made some pretty brusque posts about Henry Darger -- an outsider artist infamous for his depictions of young gender-variant children, both as epic innocent heroes and as victims of graphic violence.

Last night, my copy of Henry Darger, Throwaway Boy by Jim Elledge came in the mail, and I am deeply conflicted about it.

On the whole I think that Throwaway Boy was a necessary book, as a sympathetic, queer, and exhaustively-researched reading of Darger and his work, but it was also a deeply frustrating book.

Elledge presents a strong account of historical queerness during the time of Darger’s life, but he views historical transfemininity as something primarily or solely imposed upon cis gay men, rather than something which might have existed for its own sake; and this colors all of his analysis, not just of Darger. Elledge misgenders and deadnames infamous historical trans women such as Jennie June, claims the hermaphrodite as a figure and symbol primarily of male homosexuality rather than gender-variance more broadly, and, evil of evils, unironically uses the word “transgendered”.

Nevertheless, Elledge presents an almost irrefutable argument that Darger was queer; almost certainly trans feminine, IMHO, although Elledge reads and presents Darger as a cis gay man, perhaps not unfairly.

Elledge’s research contributes a number of items to this end and others, which he relates to the reader:

Henry “Extremely Neurotypical” Darger

Henry “was a little too funny and made strange noises” with his “mouth, nose and throat” during class. He wanted his classmates to think he was a clever, fun-loving boy and hoped they would laugh. His plan backfired. Instead of being invited into the fold as he’d hoped, the other boys and girls were so aggravated by Henry that they gave him “saucy and hateful looks.” Some even told him that, if he didn’t stop it, they’d put him in his place after school.

...

Henry was also called on the carpet for moving his hands up and down and back and forth in the air, gestures that the adults around him probably identified as masturbatory, although he described them as “pretending it was snowing” or “raining.”

The Boyfriend Situation

Henry was proud to boast that “every evening and Sunday afternoons off” he “went visiting a special friend of mine”--”special friend” giving an important clue as to their relationship. In the early 1900s, gay men often used “special friend” and similar phrases as codes for their mates, and with that phrase, Henry cast his and Whillie’s liason as romantic and almost certainly sexual. By also bragging that they were together “every evening and Sunday afternoons” that the two didn’t work, Henry hinted at the intensity of their relationship. Like any couple in love, they spent every free minute that they had in each other’s company.

Marie

Henry... feminized himself in a variety of ways, both in his first novel and in its source materials. Midway through The Realms, Henry included a scene that he borrowed from his childhood, and in it, he depicted himself as "Marie," an adult woman recalling her mother's death when she was a child...

Clearly echoing the scene of his mother's deathbed, Henry depicted himself as a "frightened little girl" who had been "inflicted" with "a wound" in her "soul" that had "never healed." He also revealed that he understood why his father had abandoned him over over and over: because [his mother's] death had "driven" [his father] "insane and he knew not what he was doing" when he threw Henry away. Despite the many times his father abandoned him, Henry, adopting the persona of the mature Marie, was tender and understanding towards his father's grief.

Of Pretty Style

In the penultimate volume of The Realms, Henry added another scene... It’s a memo written by two of his characters, Detectives Fox and West...

Henry depicted himself as one of “the two little girl children of pretty style” who were his father’s daughters. The second “little girl” was his sister, whom he never knew... his anger over his father’s “insanity” and his “foolish grief” that stemmed from “the loss of his wife” comes through loud and clear. In stark opposition to Marie’s recollection, the detectives assert that the father wallowed in his grief and ignored his children, putting their emotional and physical welfare after his own.

Annie Aronburg

To familiarize himself with Church doctrine before taking communion, Henry carefully copied a Roman Catholic catechism word for word from a published edition into a notebook that has been called his Reference Ledger. He wrote an introduction to the catechism that he copied, but he signed it with the name of one of his most important characters, Annie Aronburg, whom he named after his favorite aunt. This is not the only time that Annie had "authored" one of Henry's texts. Two pages into the introduction to the catechism, Annie makes an interesting claim: "I am the full writer of the manuscript as far as it goes of the Glandelinians and the rebels at the child labor places, and will have them published as soon as I can." She, according to Henry, wrote The Realms, and... she thinks it's good enough to publish.

Henry continued to use Annie as a persona, a resource, and a guide outside of the novel for decades. After Sister Rose left St. Joseph’s in 1917, she and Henry corresponded for a short time. One of the things that makes their correspondence so important is the fact that Henry doctored her letters to him so that it appears that she was not writing to Henry at all but to Annie Aronburg. The original version of one, dated June 19, 1917, begins:

My dear Henry

    Both of your letters reached me and I am grateful for your kind thought. I am glad that you are trying to be an even better boy since I left.

Henry's doctored version of her letter became:

    My dear Aronburg

    Both of your letters reached me and I am grateful for your kind thought. I am glad that you are trying to be an even better girl since I left.

He would also revise other documents, such as his discharge papers from the army, by crossing out specific words and inserting others so that the documents referred to Annie, again metaphorically transforming himself into her.

Webber George

Despite all the similarities between Henry and the Vivians, the character who represents Henry most strikingly is not any of the Vivians... but Webber George...

Webber shares more important attributes with Henry than any other character Henry ever created. Henry established the link between himself and Webber almost immediately...

Of all the similarities between Webber and Henry, being a “thoroughly bad boy” is the most important and, ultimately, the most revealing. Henry admitted over and over again how “bad” he had been as a child and gave plenty of examples, but he could never bring himself to reveal why. After strongly linking himself to Webber, Henry made an amazing revelation about Webber and, by extension, about himself: “One cause mainly of the boy being bad, and a foolish one at that was that was because he was angry at God for not having created him into a girl which he wanted to be more than anything else.” Henry’s anger at God, which began when he was five or six years old, was certainly caused by the physical and sexual abuse he suffered, by the jealousy he felt because other children’s parents were taking care of them while his father ignored him, and by the general mistreatment he experienced, usually at the hands of adults. Yet Henry was also angry--which became manifest in his “thoroughly bad” behavior--because he wanted to be female instead of male, just as his ten-year-old doppelganger Webber did...

Webber’s desire to have been born female rather than male was Henry’s. Webber’s anger was Henry’s, too. Webber transferred his anger from God to those around him. He couldn’t lash out at the Divine, so he lashed out at any little girl around him because a little girl “had many advantages which [a little] boy did not...”

Henry pushed the envelope even further a few pages later. He actually entered the narrative and spoke directly to the reader as himself in nineteenth-century fashion. In the process he essentially admitted that he was part of Chicago’s queer subculture. “The reader may think this”--Webber’s desire to have been born female--is “strange,” Henry wrote, but “the writer knows quite a number of boys who would give anything to have been born a girl.”

[berry-cat7]

Treasure

@kurokolovesakashi

For AkaKuro Month! The prompt is Fairy tale AU, so I went with trapped in a tower with a dragon, but with my own twist.

Can be read on AO3 or Fanfiction.

Kuroko no Basuke

G Rating

Brief mention of nudity

2,032 Words

Characters: Akashi Seijurou, Kuroko Tetsuya, Momoi Satsuki (Ft. Aomine)

Summary: A new knight approaches Kuroko's tower. It goes better than expected.

"Oh dear." Kuroko remarks rather flatly.  

His reaction is more appropriate for noting an impending rain, rather than the sight of another knight preparing to storm his tower. However, he feels mild annoyance towards both phenomena, so perhaps it is quite fitting. If they were a messenger, they wouldn't have been so heavily armored, and nobody lugs around a broadsword for fun.

This knight can't be too unreasonable if they decided to make their approach from the forest though. While it is filled with many dangerous creatures and the terrain quite treacherous in general, it does provide excellent cover from the dragon's fiery gaze. The last fool who thought to take the mountain path directly to the western face of his tower saw their death approaching long before they had a chance to even catch a glimpse of the 'damsel' himself. Admittedly his keeper was feeling rather agitated that day, since that was the fourth challenger that week; usually the dragon is charitable enough to at least let them approach his fence, and give him a chance to send them away with their lives.  

Not that they ever listen.

Between their greed towards the ridiculous amounts of riches the dragon has amassed in this castle, their desire to slay a mighty beast, and the power they've attached to his name; many chose to ignore him and press on.  This usually results in the forest fauna coming out for a midnight snack on the remains if the dragon is out of sight. Kuroko doesn't like it when the dragon chars his lawn to burn the bodies, and the dragon refuses to actually eat them, so what isn't scavenged, is scattered along his grounds in warning.  

This knight is definitely promising though.

Rather than charging in blindly while the dragon is still out of sight, they slow their steed to a trot and carefully examine the area. Kuroko knows that his companion has taken to the skies, silently observing the situation. The knight is too far for Kuroko to read the insignia painted onto their shield, but the powder blue of their cloak, and the style of the horse's reigns match those of Teiko, his kingdom of origin. Despite their cautious pace, the knight approaches with absolute confidence. The vibrant red plume decorating their helmet wavers in the wind, and their cape billows artistically as they draw nearer. Honestly, Kuroko is rather impressed. Usually people don't have that kind of flair for dramatics anymore.

At this distance, the golden dragon insignia of Teiko is clear and just as they reach they the barrier around his tower, they pull their horse to a halt. The knight is silent for a moment, before they reach up to remove their helmet. Messy pink hair drawn up into a loose bun, and a feminine face. It seems to be another woman this time.

The knight's voice rings loud and true through the clearing. "Fair prince, I am Sir Momo! Momoi Satsuki! And I have heard tales of your beauty and virtue! They say you are held captive by a fearsome beast and I have arrive to rescue you, and offer my hand in marriage! Where is your captor?"

It's a pain to strain his voice, but Kuroko addresses the challenger from his window. "Fair knight, I thank you for coming all this way, but I fear your quest has been for naught! I am in no peril! And I am no prince! Nor am I looking to marry!"

Her eyes widen in surprise.

"...Then who are you? There are many tales of your royal status!"

"I was but a humble farmhand! I befriended the local dragon, and moved into this tower! People have come and gone, spinning ridiculous fables of increasing fantasy!" That's quite an over-simplification of the situation, but it's unwise to shout such a long and personal story out of a window to a potentially dangerous stranger.

Overall, he's not quite sure how things escalated to this point himself. At first a few travelers stumbled across his little abode and the dragon was content to watch from afar. But once he had almost been killed by a roving band of looters, he supposes some rumours had begun to spread once the survivors regaled their harrowing tales. The average wanderers stopped appearing, and the warriors and knights started flocking in for various reasons.

Kuroko is far from captive when he travels back into town every other week for supplies. Not that many can recognize him.  

"I apologize that you have come all this way! I can only offer my regrets." The last time he had bribed away an intruder, the dragon had sulked for days, curling around the tower's treasures possessively until Kuroko polished quite a few in repentance.

The knight shifts on her saddle as she thinks over this new development. "...Are you sure you require no aid? Are you truly unthreatened by the dragon?"

"Not unless you offer repair services." All of the rain has been rather troublesome. His wood fence is starting to rot from all of the moisture.

"Unfortunately, my main craft is the blade. My apologies for the disturbance then. Though I do hope you won't mind if I return for a visit? Someone as lovely as you should at least have human company every now and then." Ironically, he gets plenty of human company, it's just that they're usually hostile while the dragon is a reprieve.

She's been polite, outwardly nonthreatening and respectful, patient. Kuroko is about to grant tentative permission when a distant roar echoes in warning. It seems the dragon has grown tired of their guest. Thankfully she's aware enough to understand this unsubtle warning herself. "It seems I've overstayed my welcome. I bid you farewell, and may our paths cross again." She says with a sweet smile and a wave. Quite the juxtaposition from the worn armor broadening her frame and the gleaming blade strapped to her back.

Although she intended to take her leave, it seems her horse has other ideas. It continues to graze on the lush grass of his property, regardless of its rider pulling at its reigns. "Oh come on! Dai-chan, you can eat later!" The horse takes its time chewing through one more mouthful before it finally heeds its master's cries. And once the knight disappears into the forest from whence she came, the dragon is quick to land.

Kuroko rolls his eyes to himself once he is safely out of sight, and heads to his front door in order to greet the dragon in person, taking the spare cloak with him. He really is a sight to behold, gleaming wine-coloured scales and magnificent wings. Large eyes focus on him, one cranberry red and the other daffodil gold, both scanning for a hair out of place even though the knight hadn't even unsheathed her weapon. It's ridiculous and over-protective, but he can't complain when it's done for his sake. The dragon sort of sighs out a puff of smoke and a flurry of embers, a sign that he is satisfied with what he sees and Kuroko is permitted to move.

"See? I'm fine. But thank you Seijurou."

The dragon's lipless mouth is unmoving, but a velvety smooth voice can still be heard. "I don't understand why you won't just leave with me, and be done with these vermin."  

Kuroko puts a hand on the dragon's warm snout, each nostril almost half of his height and every exhale a visible heatwave. "As hot as you can keep the cave and as lavishly as you furnish it, I'd rather not actually live in a cave. Kagami-kun already claims that I'm so isolated I may as well live under a rock, the last thing he needs is validation."

The dragon releases a burst of hot air at the mention of one of his few friends. He's close enough that the twin jets of scalding steam billow out past him without harm, but it's still uncomfortably hot at this distance. He smacks the dragon with a frown in reprimand, but the gesture is more symbolic since he doubts it was really felt through such thick skin.  

"I can be human too." Kuroko is sure it's supposed to sound ominous or maybe even vaguely threatening, but he's learned to associate that tone with a petulant child. He absently resumes running his hand against the dragon's face. The larger, shield-sized scales covering the rest of his body are mostly cold and sharp, but his face is covered with smooth snake-like soft-scaled skin.  

He has to tread carefully, because the last thing he wants to do is offend. Inter-species relationships – romantic or otherwise – are always complicated. "...Yes, I know, but even I would like to see other faces every now and then. I'm not a jewel Seijurou, I need more than just safety."

He can feel scales heating beneath his palm, just shy of painful as the dragon shifts. He closes his eyes against the bright light but he can already feel a feverishly warm cheek resting in his hand. Two very human hands grab onto him. One rests overtop of his, while the other carefully grips his fragile wrist. It wouldn't take much to turn his joints into mush, break his legs and render him immobile – completely helpless and dependent. But the dragon is careful, his touch always almost annoyingly feather-light with his unspoken fear.  

He opens his eyes to meet red and gold.

There is a possessive look in Seijurou's eyes as he speaks, low and reverently. "I know human's require a lot of care to remain in optimal condition, but I can't help but place your physical well-being before your happiness. It's fine if you hate me. As long as you are alive and within my sights, I don't care what you do if it's not detrimental to your health. Your life is short as it is. You are my most precious treasure." The dragon places a tender kiss over the pulse point of Kuroko's inner wrist, and the human flushes a bright red as he recalls Seijurou's bare state. Seijurou himself always stands proud, completely unbothered by his nudity because he only wears what Kuroko forces onto him.

Without context, that whole speech would be rather concerning, no doubt that knight would come sweeping back to rescue him had she heard some of the other things he's said. But Kuroko knows that the dragon would never treat him like that. An object to be hoarded in the dark. He's merely voicing his opinion, the disgruntled grumbling of the guard of a particularly troublesome treasure. Kuroko pulls Seijurou into an embrace, surrounding himself with the dragon's heat. He rests his chin over the other's shoulder. "I know. You're my most important person too."  

In all of his years of life as a simple farmhand, Kuroko Tetsuya had never seen much value in his life. He considered it a good life, but like any peasant, he thought he wasn't worth more than the mud he toiled in. It was mere chance that he had stumbled across this abandoned structure filled with wealth, and perhaps some would call it misfortune that it turned out to belong to a dragon; but his restraint had been his saving grace, and once the dragon had located him further down the path the rest had become history.

It's another irony, one he thinks about every day, that a dragon – creatures notorious for their material greed – believes that his life is worth more than his weight in gold.

It's easy to slip out of Seijurou's hold, all hard muscles and soft grip. It's not as bad as it used to be, but he's still embarrassed that he was in the arms of a naked man out in the open. He carefully throws the cloak he brought over Seijurou's shoulders, one of the only articles of clothing he'll wear without a word of complain, and leads the dragon by the hand into his castle.

The lifeblood rushing through his veins, every breath he draws, every day for the rest of his days – all of it, Kuroko is more than happy to give him to cherish.