#we can have a little resentment and bitterness and ill wishes as a treat of course

[titsthedamnseason]

one of my favorite taylor songs to listen to the first time was happiness because i have a visceral memory of hearing the line “i hope she’ll be a beautiful fool / who takes my spot next to you” and literally gasping out loud before hearing that the next line was basically taylor saying “oh no i take that back sorry” and letting out a little relieved breath and giggling like oh she gets me!

[beet-le]

okay I am really autistic and think abt them all the time so

golden wind theories/ hcs abt the main gangs mental illnesses

okay I dont think we talk about how mista probably has ocd enough. we see that he has intrusive thoughts/ obsessions and while we don’t see him have a lot of obvious compulsions but he often acts in a way that may seem irrational to some and has strict routines and fears something will go wrong when they are interrupted. he counts things obsessively, has rituals, etc etc.

short aside: pls don't think I am glorifying/ romanticizing anything I talk abt here these are theories and if anything I say is inaccurate pls lemme know!! I did research abt what I talk abt here but these are my own personal theories/ observations/ how I relate to them :)

I see a lot of people hc narancia as having ADHD but I am here to further my everyone in bucci gang has autism agenda. /hj I am autistic and relate to him. how he has trouble reading peoples intentions and trusts too easily is smth I really relate too! That's not to say he couldn't also have ADHD but if you read him as autistic it adds a lot of depth to his backstory <:) he's also highly empathetic and struggles regulating his emotions.

god sorry this is cringe

oh obviously he's also dyslexic :)

moving on this is obvious and more a plea to people to do research and write realistic recovery for leone being an alcoholic.

I would also love to see more people talking about Bruno. Specifically within the context of bruabba and his savior complex, I can't help but think he would be a little bitter than he is always the one saving people and that he's not allowed to be weak despite all the trauma he went through at a young age and joining the mafia at 14. It would definitely create more vulnerability issues to play parent to not only three traumatized children but also your so, the one who you are meant to feel safest with. I think a lot of Bruno's savior complex issues stems from him thinking that the crimes he has committed in his past and continues to commit as part of his role within Passione make him a bad person, and to atone for these sins he "saves" others. You can see how angry he is when he takes Narancia to the hospital and then he says he also wants to join the gang. To Bruno this is akin to spitting in his face. 'You would throw away the second chance I gave you to make the same mistakes I did?' idk I love him and so many people treat him as if he is perfect and I think he deserves to be complex and maybe resent his family for treating him as a therapist and savior and not always like a flawed human being. basically please let us have more dysfunctional bruabba family I need them to live.

I could write a whole essay on fugo so I shall save him for another time and because I don't trust my own intelligence to talk about him. fugo peak.

A lot of dude bros get mad at Giorno's "lack of personality" as if it doesn't stem directly from him being neglected as a child. He was punished for showing normal emotions as a kid so he hides them as he gets older. He could also totally be read as autistic and thats a hc that holds a special place in my heart. Opposed to Narancia, who is on the high empathy end of the spectrum, Gio, partly as a response to how he was raised, has lower empathy which also effects how he communicates with others. I think he is such a complex character and wish more people devoted time to analyzing him rather than writing him of as boring.

Thats all I have the mental space to write about for write now but I care these idiots so much and please tell me what you think!! Bucci gang 4 eva.

[makeste]

A theory I have seen is that Fuyumi wants the family back so desperately, because she and Toya experienced the better Endeavor, where everything was alright. My guess is that after his decent into abuse its stopped being like a normal family and Natsuo and Shoto never experienced a normal family. But that is just a therory

okay so speaking as someone who grew up with an abusive and neglectful parent (though in my case it was my mom rather than my dad)... it’s complicated. there are a lot of emotions there. I think one of the things Horikoshi has really excelled at with the whole Todoroki plot is the way that he’s used the four siblings to show the different ways that children respond to parental abuse. and I can say from personal experience that all of them are valid. not just the bitterness, anger, and resentment that Touya, Natsuo, and Shouto have all shown at times, but also that intense (but tentative, almost wishful-thinking) longing to just have a normal family that we see from Fuyumi. speaking again from experience, that last one isn’t an outlier at all. in fact, in my case, I’d say that was honestly the strongest feeling out of all of them, and it even fueled a lot of the other three emotions. btw just a heads up I’m gonna delve into some personal stuff here briefly, so yeah. I won’t put details, but if anyone wants an abuse trigger warning added to the post or anything like that, just let me know.

so the thing is, even during my angriest times, if some magic wish-granting genie had poofed in and told the child me, “’sup, I’m here to solve all of your family problems, just tell me what you want me to do,” I wouldn’t have wanted them to take my mom away and lock her up somewhere and make her suffer or anything like that. honestly, even during the worst of it, the thing I wanted more than anything else was just to have a normal family. my mom had a lot of untreated mental health issues, and it was basically a situation where you never knew which version of her you were going to get on any given day. so there were times when she was a kind and loving mother who took care of me and my siblings. and there were a great many more times when she was temperamental and erratic, and we all (my dad included) basically just walked on eggshells around her and did our best to lay low and try not to bother her because even little things might set her off, and we never knew how she was going to react. and my dad worked a lot, and my sibs and I were homeschooled for reasons which I’m not gonna get into because this post is already veering off on too many tangents, but anyway so the short of it is that my sibs and I grew up in this unstable environment and ended up more or less raising ourselves. and I resented my mom a lot for that, growing up, and I still do honestly.

now a lot’s happened since then, and she’s gotten some help, and my siblings and I are all adults now and we’re more or less good, even though we all took a certain amount of Psychic Damage along the way and we’re each still dealing with that. and we each have different relationships with our mom now, and a couple of my sibs are even fairly close to her. but for my part, I pretty much have no relationship with her at all outside of seeing her a few times a year at family get-togethers and the like. the thing is, even though my mom did eventually (after a LOT of false starts and struggles and heartache) get some help, she’s never really shown remorse for what my siblings and I went through because of her. she’s never taken responsibility for any of it. she blames a lot of other people, and will go on long rants about all of the terrible things that have happened to her and all of the horrible ways people have treated her (some of which is true, and some of which very much is not). but there’s never even the slightest acknowledgement of any of the things she herself has done to hurt others. she either passes the blame or just pretends it never happened. 

and honestly, it sucks. even now, there’s little to no real desire to change on her part. she’s gotten therapy and meds now, and so emotionally she’s much more stable than when we were kids, but one of the unfortunate results is that it’s all the more clear now that a lot of her behavior never had anything to do with her mental illness at all. she just didn’t care at all about how she was hurting others; or at the very least, didn’t care to face it. and that’s just how it is.

anyway, so I’m sorry to keep breaking away and telling you guys my own life story lol. but the point I’m trying to get at here is that I actually relate to Fuyumi so much, though. what I wanted more than anything was for my mom to care, and to say she was sorry, and for me to be able to believe that and to trust her, and for her to actually change. that was it.

and so for me, here’s the biggest difference between the Endeavor situation, and my own and so many others. the difference is that unlike people in real life, we know Endeavor is actually remorseful for what he’s done. we know it for certain because we’ve seen it for ourselves, from his own point of view. the manga actually lets us get inside his head and shows us that he really is sincere, that he really is sorry, and that he really is trying to change. and that’s something that’s impossible to get in real life. that certainty that the person really means it, that they’re genuinely remorseful and committed to making amends.

and for me, that’s fucking wish fulfillment right there. for the abusive parent to finally realize the error of their ways and be sorry and try to do right by their kids. I fucking wanted that. hell, I still want it, even though I’ve made my peace with things the way that they are. that chance to somehow heal the broken relationship, and have your parent genuinely try their best to be a real parent to you, even if it’s years after the fact? shit. I’d take that in a heartbeat.

and so when it comes to Fuyumi and her attempts to get her family to reconcile and experience a few normal things, I f feel that. I really do. because when you’re growing up in that type of situation, normal is all that you want. and I don’t think it’s anything that requires an explanation on her part, because it’s not actually an unusual reaction at all. it’s natural. it’s the most natural thing in the world. honestly it’s annoying that fandom sometimes tries to shame her for having those feelings. like honestly, fuck that. because the thing is, I’d wager that almost every kid who grew up with an abusive parent has at some time or other felt the exact same way.

and that includes Touya, Natsuo, and Shouto as well. literally the only difference between them and Fuyumi is that they feel that Endeavor’s change of heart is simply coming too late. it’s not that they don’t want their family back, just like she does; it’s that from their point of view, it’s something they can’t get back. for Fuyumi, that dream of having a normal family is something she’s still seeking. for Natsuo and Touya, that dream of having a normal family is something that was destroyed. something that Endeavor killed. something they’re in mourning of. and so Touya wants revenge for it, and Natsuo is trying to pick himself up and move past it. and meanwhile Shouto is caught somewhere in the middle of all of those reactions, because he’s still trying to decide whether or not he can ever bring himself to trust his father again. he’s somewhere in between his brothers’ mourning and his sister’s hopefulness. sort of a Schrodinger type of deal lol.

but anyway, the point I’m trying to make here is that all four siblings are really experiencing the same thing, just in different ways. Fuyu may be the one arranging family dinners and the like, but that same longing to be part of a normal family is at the core of Natsuo, Shouto, and even Touya’s behavior as well. Natsuo’s hurt and resentment, and Touya’s spite and bitterness, come from being denied the thing they want. and Fuyu’s shaky attempts at reconciliation come from her desire to still obtain it somehow. but at the end of the day they’re the exact same feelings. and they all come from the same place.

anyways, hopefully that makes some kind of sense. basically, everyone is valid. Fuyu is valid, Natsu and Shouto are valid, and Touya is murdery which isn’t cool, but his feelings are still valid too nonetheless. hugs and therapy for the Todoroki children in 2021, Horikoshi. please and thank you.

[notapaladin]

Obsidian and Blood, an overview

Do you like fantasy? Do you like mysteries? Do you like Mesoamerican mythology? Do you like ALL OF THOSE THINGS TOGETHER, set against the lush backdrop of Tenochtitlan in 1480? (Or maybe you just want to know more about the series I have been going feral over since August.) Then buckle up, because oh boy have I got a series for you!

*drumroll, please*

OBSIDIAN AND BLOOD, written by Aliette de Bodard (better known for her Xuya and Dominion of the Fallen series)

There are two kinds of people: Those who see the words “Aztec fantasy/murder mysteries set in very well-researched 1480s Tenochtitlan BUT WITH MAGIC, investigated by the HIGH PRIEST OF THE GOD OF DEATH” and immediately ran off to buy them, and those who clearly need convincing. So here I am, shamelessly plugging my new hyperfixation!

Obsidian and Blood consists of three semi-standalone novels and three (free!) prequel short stories, all featuring 30-year-old Acatl as our first-person POV mystery solver. Acatl is not, however, your average historical detective; aside from being set firmly in Tenochtitlan in 1480 with all that implies re. the acceptability of slavery and human sacrifice, he also is the High Priest of Mictlantecuhtli in a universe where the gods regularly meddle in mortal affairs and magic spells are powered largely by rituals and blood—animal, human, or your own. You’d think this would make Acatl really, really good at solving murders, but you’d be wrong. He is the least of the Triple Alliance’s three High Priests, and his god doesn’t come at his servant’s beck and call. Not to mention the other gods, who have their own deadly agendas. That’s not even getting into the people around him, who might be the most dangerous of all. Luckily, he has more allies than he thinks—if he has the strength to actually reach out to them and admit he could use the help!

(He doesn’t need to reach out to his student Teomitl. Teomitl, a confident young warrior of imperial blood, keeps volunteering. This gives Acatl roughly one heart attack per book.)

You will like them if…

I did just say “magic murder mysteries in 1480s Tenochtitlan,” right? It’s real Precolumbian Mexico hours up in here! The history of the Aztec Empire and their Triple Alliance actually forms multiple key plot points throughout the series!

you’re into Aztec history/culture in general

if a DnD fan, you are REALLY into the Raven Queen

you think blood magic is super cool and wish it wasn’t treated as the realm of The Bad Guys

you get incredibly hyped over lesser-known mythologies treated respectfully but also very awesomely (the thing where the Aztecs thought human sacrifice kept the sun in the sky? Yeah, in this universe it is literally true and plot-relevant)

you are big into chaste heroes, lots of snarky asides, highly opinionated narrators who let their own prejudices destroy them, “from an outside perspective this is cosmic horror but for the characters it is a Tuesday,” mysteries with twists you will NOT see coming, and themes of trauma/memories/family legacies

you love reading about dysfunctional family relationships in various states of repair/further destruction

you’ve ever thought “hey this historical mystery is cool but what if there was MAGIC”

you like noir detective stories but want them with magic

you like urban fantasy but want them to have historical settings instead of vaguely modern-day ones

Plot/character summaries below!

SHORT STORIES (prequels to the novels, blurbs by me)

Obsidian Shards

Warriors have been found dead in the town of Colhuacan, obsidian shards embedded in their hearts. Acatl, priest of Mictlantecuhtli, suspects a creature of the Underworld—one he already calls a foe, for it slew his first and last apprentice.

Beneath the Mask

In the Tenochtitlan suburb of Coyoacan, Acatl’s childhood friend Huchimitl begs him to save her only son’s war captive; the man whose sacrifice will make the boy a proper warrior is paralyzed from an unknown curse, unable even to rise from the floor. But who could have cursed him, and is it connected to the mask Huchimitl now wears?

Safe, Child, Safe

A toddler is slowly wasting away, the mark of the Underworld on him, and Acatl is tasked with finding the cause. But no creature of the Underworld kills so slowly, and so Acatl must turn his investigation to the living.

THE BOOKS (blurbs taken directly from the book listings, you don’t HAVE to read them in order but I do recommend it)

Servant of the Underworld

Year One-Knife, Tenochtitlan; the capital of the Mexica Empire. Human sacrifice and the magic of living blood are the only things keeping the sun in the sky and the earth fertile. A Priestess disappears from an empty room drenched in blood. It should be a usual investigation for Acatl, High Priest of the Dead—except that his estranged brother is involved, and the more he digs, the deeper he is drawn into the political and magical intrigues of noblemen, soldiers, and priests—and of the gods themselves...

(Neutemoc: I didn't mean to sleep with her! It was an accident! Acatl: I don't understand. Did you trip?) (Acatl: I don't want a new apprentice! Teomitl: :D? Acatl: ...I will make an exception)

Harbinger of the Storm

The year is Two House, and the Emperor of the Mexica has just died. The protections he afforded the Empire are crumbling, and the way lies wide open to flesh-eating star-demons—and to the return of their creator, a malevolent goddess only held in check by the War God's power. The council should convene to choose a new Emperor, but they are too busy plotting against each other. And then someone starts summoning star-demons within the palace, to kill councilmen...Acatl, High Priest of the Dead, must find the culprit before everything is torn apart.

(Teomitl: I've only had Acatl and Mihmatini for a year, but if anything happens to them I'll kill everyone in this room and then myself) (Quenami: Playing With The Big Boys.mp3)

Master of the House of Darts

The year is Three Rabbit, and the storm is coming. The Mexica Empire now has a new Emperor, but his coronation war has just ended in a failure: the armies have retreated with a paltry forty prisoners of war, not near enough sacrifices to satisfy the gods. Acatl, High Priest for the Dead, has no desire to involve himself yet again in the intrigues of the powerful. However, when one of the prisoners dies of a magical illness, he has little choice but to investigate. For it is only one death, but it will not be the last. As the bodies pile up and the imperial court tears itself apart, dragging Teomitl, Acatl's beloved student, into the eye of the storm, the High Priest for the Dead is going to have to choose whom he can afford to trust; and where, in the end, his loyalties ultimately lie...

(Teomitl: I am no longer Baby I want Power) (Acatl, to Teomitl: What have you got there? Nezahual, gleefully: A coup! Acatl: NO!)

THE MAIN CHARACTERS (in order of appearance)

ACATL “By my face and by my heart, I’ll bring you justice.” High Priest of Mictlantecuhtli, god of death and the underworld. As such, his duties include both the obvious ones of arranging funerals and standing vigils for the dead, and the less obvious ones of investigating magical crimes and keeping the boundaries between the heavens, Earth, and the underworld intact. When Servant of the Underworld begins, he’s only recently been promoted and hates it. Has a strained relationship with his living family, due largely to not having lived up to his (dead) parents’ desires for him to become a warrior like his brother Neutemoc. Bitter, cynical, and grumpy, but devoted to justice and fairness.

Has an official character sheet.

CEYAXOCHITL “Everyone has to grow up and take responsibilities. Even small, humble priests.” Guardian of the Sacred Precinct and wielder of the power of the Duality (Ometeotl), which makes her the sworn protector of the Mexica Empire and its Revered Speaker from all sorts of mainly-magical threats. Somewhat past middle age but still very strong in her magical abilities, and something of an antagonistic mentor to Acatl. (She nominated him for the position of High Priest. He is not appreciative.) Serious and devoted to her duty, with a keen eye for potential in others. Dies in Harbinger of the Storm and you WILL cry.

NEUTEMOC “Priests hide and run away. Warriors don’t.” Acatl’s older brother, a Jaguar Knight with five children and a failing marriage. Resents Acatl for not helping to support their aging parents by becoming a warrior like he did. The central suspect during most of Servant of the Underworld’s plot, though by the end he and Acatl have begun to repair their relationship. He is strict, stern, and bitter, but truly loves his family. (In the case of his younger brother, that love is buried very deep down.)

TEOMITL “If we don’t believe in ourselves, who is going to?” Acatl’s student, an enthusiastic warrior who yearns to prove himself worthy of his power and noble rank, as well as live up to the memory of the mother who died birthing him. During Servant of the Underworld he swears himself to Chalchiuhtlicue, goddess of fresh water and lakes, gaining (among other things) command over the man-eating water monsters called ahuitzotls. He is courting Mihmatini during Harbinger of the Storm; by the time Master of the House of Darts takes place, they are married. He is abrasive and proud, but also honest, loyal, and brave. And very, very ambitious. You will want to punch him several times. This is normal. (Also, I will swear that it's not just my ship-goggles being on too tight that has me thinking his relationship with Acatl is much more weighty and personal than the one he has with his ACTUAL WIFE.)

MIHMATINI “Better laugh, and smile at the flowers and jade. Life is too short to be spent grieving.” Acatl and Neutemoc’s youngest sister, a powerful magic-user who finds herself thrust into the position of Guardian during Harbinger of the Storm. Though she has no great ambitions herself—she mostly just wants to be a mother and raise children—she is ferociously protective of her family and will fight anything that threatens them. Even themselves. (Especially themselves.) Kind, caring, and light-hearted, but her acid tongue and sharp temper are not to be dismissed. "Fuck Around And Find Out" given human form.

ACAMAPICHTLI “We have always endured.” High priest of Tlaloc and a reoccurring thorn in Acatl’s side. Though he’s primarily out for his own gain and has no patience for Acatl’s refusal to play on the field of Imperial politics, they eventually form something like an uneasy truce following the end of Harbinger of the Storm. He is snarky and sardonic, but truly cares for his clergy. During Master of the House of Darts he somehow became one of my favorite characters.

TIZOC "I've always known that priests couldn't be trusted. You have just exceeded my expectations." Teomitl’s older brother, first Master of the House of Darts and then Revered Speaker. (Look, it’s not a spoiler if you can Google it.) He is cowardly, ambitious, and the closest thing this series has to an overarching antagonist. Among other things, tries to have Acatl executed during Harbinger of the Storm. Events at the end of that book only manage to make him measurably worse. "Ah There He Is, That Motherfucker, What A Tool" #1.

QUENAMI “Oh, Acatl. Such lack of tact. You are so unsuited for the Court.” High Priest of Huitzilpochtli, appointed by Tizoc between Servant of the Underworld and Harbinger of the Storm. Comes from a noble family, and is much better at diplomacy and playing politics than he is at magic. When push comes to shove, however, he can display some surprising determination. He is arrogant, scheming, and takes joy in cutting Acatl down, but presumably has some good qualities...somewhere. "Ah There He Is, That Motherfucker, What A Tool" #2.

Maps of the series’ primary setting

Setting Primers

Official Character Index

Glossary

[bigskydreaming]

Couldn't the thing with Jason thinking Dick is infallible from Truth and Justice story come from how he is compared to his brother from Bruce. Even when he was Robin with Dick and Bruce fighting, he was told that Dick was better by Bruce. Then he comes back and is a cautionary tale of what not to and how not to be while Dick and Bruce are now getting along.

I mean yeah, you could go with that take, but I’m always gonna argue that even that is more fanon based than anything else, at least before this issue. We’ve seen a lot of that take in the past already, but truth is, there really isn’t that much basis in older stories for Bruce comparing Jason to Dick. And like I’ve expanded on in the past, younger Jason looked UP to Dick, he certainly didn’t resent him. 

With this being true even when he first came back - Dick was the only one he didn’t target at ALL during Under the Red Hood, and when he did finally meet up with Dick a year later, during the Brothers in Blood arc, it was more to fuck with him than any attempt to take things out on him. Like, that arc gets a lot of shit and deservedly so, but I really do wish more people would at least takeaway from it the fact that in it, JASON referenced still thinking of Dick as family. Which just doesn’t mesh up with all the ‘they barely knew each other/they resented each other’ takes.

Pretty much all the times I can think of when Jason was compared to Dick pre ADITF, it was actually not at all what its usually represented as by most fandom takes, such as the time Jason teamed up with the Titans. For pretty much Jason’s entire tenure as Robin up until the Felipe Garzonas arc, Jason was actually portrayed as perfectly secure in his position of Robin and wasn’t threatened by anyone else’s perception of him at all. Even the arc where he loses it on Two-Face has been kinda amplified to make more of it than it was, like.....Bruce was worried about the anger he expressed there, but that was more out of concern FOR Jason and it wasn’t the “Jason was on the verge of getting fired as Robin all along” kinda narrative we tend to see referenced. 

Jason was only made out to be the angry Robin or the less competent Robin or whatever AFTER his death, which is all kinds of shitty, but like......there’s no real basis for any kind of extended history where Jason resentfully suffered under his big brother’s shadow while Robin. The angry/less competent Robin stuff was all DC retroactively railroading him after the fact to justify their choice to kill him off (which was still their choice no matter the existence of a poll), and its the narrative most people have run with because it amplifies Jason’s existence as the misunderstood and unfairly judged underdog of the family.

Now to be 100% clear, as I’ve said in the past.....there is absolutely no reason you CAN’T go with this take if you don’t want to. Nobody has to abide by canon, or a particular canon and I’ll never argue otherwise. My main point has always just been that the thing about fanfic is that its a transformative process, it enables fans to take canon and transform it into something else.....but here’s the thing....those transformations ALWAYS happen with INTENT. People are deliberate in how and in what ways they transform canon, even if they’re not always CONSCIOUS of that deliberation.....it still exists. None of these transformations just happen, they happen for a reason. Because fans want an end result that’s different from what we saw in canon.

So my thing is always just.....yes, transform canon as you like, for whatever reason. But don’t pretend that those reasons don’t exist, and understand that when people look at a canon to fanon transformation that really only results in one major difference.......they’re gonna assume that this difference, achieving this difference, was for whatever reason, the POINT of the transformation.

And here’s where I also want to express something else: my take has never been that most of fandom just hates Dick Grayson. That they’re consciously, deliberately out to smear him or make him look bad. I think there’s a lot of elements in play with how I perceive fandom’s interactions with him compared to other characters, but more often than not, I think one of the bigger issues with how his character is TRANSFORMED from canon to fanon, is just.......he’s collateral damage. I don’t think in most cases the point is even to make actual transformations of his character or characterization......its to apply these things to people he’s in scene WITH......and he just ends up transformed as well, by proximity.

Take a look at some examples:

1) Dick firing Tim

Except as we’ve gone over multiple times, Dick didn’t actually FIRE Tim. He didn’t neglect him, he didn’t turn his back on him, he could have handled that situation differently, sure, but he had none of the ill intent people assign to him when they typically ramp up how bad this period was for Tim. Dick actually called him his equal, begged him to stay, said he was too GOOD to be Dick’s junior partner........but this is not at all how this moment in canon is generally viewed by a lot of fandom. He comes off looking a TON worse, like he just chose Damian over Tim and discarded Tim first chance he got, he didn’t care how Tim was affected, he kicked Tim out of the manor and out of Gotham.

But the thing is.....I’d argue that none of this TRANSFORMATION from canon really had anything to do with Dick. I don’t actually think that tons of fans were just waiting in the wings for the perfect opportunity to make a villain out of Dick and just seized upon this moment as the perfect opportunity. I think it was just all about Tim. It was about accentuating his misery, his aloneness, heightening the whump factor of his character and amplifying the feelings of insecurity, rejection and alienation he was feeling and that people related to.

What happened to Dick’s character in most peoples’ eyes as a result of this transformation, was the symptom, not the point. It was the collateral damage, not the aim.

2) Bruce firing Dick

In contrast, we have more than one canon interpretation of Bruce firing Dick as Robin, with this leading directly into Dick leaving the manor at a fairly young age, keeping his distance from Bruce until he finds out about Jason, Bruce giving Robin to Jason without acknowledging or apologizing for the fact that he was giving away the identity that someone else had crafted and poured their heart and soul into, not him.......but this isn’t how a lot of fandom outside of Dick stans and people who are specifically predisposed towards Bad Dad Bruce like to treat that part of canon.

Here, the transformation is the reverse from what happened with Tim and Dick. Here, the feelings of rejection and alienation and insecurity Dick realistically would have felt during that time are overlooked and even outright invalidated by TRANSFORMING the canon so that actually, this period of extended estrangement is completely disconnected from any version of events where Bruce fired Dick, which he did not do here. And in fact, Dick gave up Robin, he and Bruce had a falling out, and this was mutual and two-sided and thus Dick’s refusal to come home earlier and reconcile with Bruce was not actually him standing up for himself and refusing to settle for being taken for granted and dismissed when convenient but rather just Dick being immature, stubborn and a little spoiled.

But again.....I don’t think that’s the aim so much as a byproduct of the intended end result. Once more, I think that had very little to do with Dick himself, wasn’t about making him look bad specifically....but rather, it was about making Bruce look better. It was transforming the thing he had done in canon which was so hard to defend, ie ignore all of Dick’s feelings on the matter much in the way people accuse Dick of ignoring Tim’s later, and passively rejecting him and refusing to be the first to reach out unlike Dick who actively sought after Tim when he left. Those moments in canon definitively make Bruce look pretty bad, and are hard to reconcile with Good Parent Bruce Wayne, so that is what people are trying to transform. Once again, the way it makes Dick look in contrast is just a symptom.

The further examples are honestly pretty endless.

The aftermath of Forever Evil and Spyral is ignored, transforming Dick into the true villain of that period not because people just want an excuse to hate him, but because they don’t want to or can’t reconcile what Bruce actually did in order to get Dick to act so out of character, or they want to justify Jason and Tim and others’ anger at Dick later rather than have them appear to be inconsiderate assholes just piling on a guy who just had the worst year of his life to date.

The instances of Bruce outright abusing Dick after Jason’s death and at other times like Night of the Owls are ignored, transforming Dick into an impetuous, overly aggressive asshole who isn’t reacting to Bruce’s initial aggression, but rather just popping off the handle because he isn’t being received or treated just the way he likes.

Dick reaching out to Jason and making an offer to be there for him as Robin and later times they interact in Titans as well as any actual bond they build, even if mostly just hinted at off the page....all ignored in favor of transforming Dick into this bitter, jealous jerk who can’t see past his own feelings long enough to realize he’s taking things out on an innocent kid who doesn’t deserve this, even though that’s exactly what he realized and motivated his actual actions towards Jason in canon. And again, its not so much about making Dick worse, its about overlooking the WHYS of Dick’s hurt, turning the focus from what was done to him that justifies him being upset in the first place, to some greater mistreatment he enacts on Jason and thus drowns out any sympathy that people might otherwise have for Dick.

Dick’s periods of brainwashing like under the Church of Blood being overwritten or ignored in order to transform his deliberately out of character attitudes towards his friends and teammates there into just normal outbursts that were part of his characterization rather than signs that something was abnormally wrong with him. Thus turning everyone else’s treatment of him during that time period into again just their part of a two-way street and nothing they had to feel bad about rather than acknowledge that he’d literally not been in full control of himself while they had no such excuse for their behavior.

To be clear.....this kind of thing is NOT limited to just Dick. It tends to happen any time people want to transform a canon event into something more one-sided, to accentuate a particular character’s position as the victim or the misunderstood or neglected party.....or to turn a one-way street into a mutual antagonism, to lessen a particular character’s culpability in some argument or feud. You can absolutely find examples of this same effect applying to every other character in the Batfam as well.

But the reason it happens so often with Dick, and thus every instance of it happening tends to be amplified by the sheer volume of similar situations......is because of convenience. Because ironically, the reason Dick so often looks so bad in fanon’s eyes when it comes to his treatment of his family....is BECAUSE of how Dick is so much more integrated into every one of his family’s lives (and his friends’) than pretty much any other character. He’s the collateral damage to other characters being deliberately transformed in some way purely because he’s the one who almost always is THERE to some degree. Because there’s no one else in the scene that’s being transformed.

And so to bring it all back to your question......I think you absolutely can go with that take. There’s an argument to be made for it, especially now given that this canon issue has actually established a precedent for Jason feeling that way rather than fanon just running with the idea because it makes Jason more maligned. Its still not something that’s ever going to interest me though, even if I can see the reasoning for it, because its not just the fact that this particular dynamic between Dick and Jason has played out thousands of times before in fic, as I said yesterday. Its also because like I laid out here......my bigger issue is that take has absolutely NOTHING to do with Dick himself, says nothing about his character, but his character is inevitably the one who will suffer fallout from that particular take. That dynamic, as you described it, makes sense.....but its entirely, 100% on Bruce or others for raising those comparisons, not because of anything Dick did to Jason himself.....and thus it makes Jason’s dynamic towards Dick MORE a product of other peoples’ reactions and attitudes towards him and his brother respectively.

And that dynamic IS perfectly understandable and valid. But even if its slightly different this time because of more of a canon basis, it still for me falls into the same pattern of Dick being collateral damage to something that’s largely focused on another character entirely, with him and how he’s impacted by extension being kinda an afterthought. 

*Shrugs* And that’s just......a story I’ve read so many many times before, I’m just never gonna be all that engaged by it. 

[xsugarysweetsx]

ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 8

A/N; all characters are above 18!

Warning; protective Iwa; Implied smut; tense moment; reader faints near the end 

Previous Next

°°°° °°°° °°°°

About a week 1/2 later

Let’s just say you both have been having very passionate nights together. You’ve both been a little rougher, but he rather be gentle and soft, it was more intimate.

“Sleep well, my queen“ he whispered laying a kiss to your forehead as you slept. He pulls the covers over your bare body to keep you warm. Even though he was a king he wanted to keep himself in the best shape he could. Every morning he would go down to the training are on his own to train himself. 

It kept him in shape and prepared for anything. After that small incident, he’s been going more often. Not as a king, but as your husband, he wanted to protect and keep you safe. He wakes just as the sun started to rise on these days. He really did try to wake up but at the same time he wanted to stay in bed with you.

Sleeping with you was one of his favorite things to do. To hold you close, keep you warm, it just made him feel good and sleep better.

As he swung the sword to and fro he thought back to how you’ve both grown together. He’s happy someone like you was able to change him. Yet at the same time, he felt bad for forcing you into this marriage. You should have been able to chose him out of free will. His heart felt the guilt weigh in because you truly deserved the best.

“Hajime?“ a small sleepy voice called out, turning around he sees you. Standing at the doorway rubbing the sleep from your eyes, in your nightgown with one of his robes to keep you warm.

“Y/N what are you doing out of bed“ he lowered his sword walking over to you and wrapping his arms around you “It’s cold this morning” your arms wrap around his neck and you press your lips to his 

“The bed was cold without you in it...what are you doing?“ you ask looking down to his sword 

“Training to keep you safe,“ he kissed you back “You want to try?“

“Me? I’ve never held a sword before“ he circles around you and gives you the heavy metal object in your hands. He wraps his arms around yo so he can help you hold the sword up. He picks it up with you and do what he was doing before. You could barely keep up with the moves he knew making you both laugh. 

“I think I can be the captain of you knights“ you joke 

“Only the finest for my army“ he teased kissing you on the cheek. Then littering the spot with kisses again. “but, you should go back and sleep. The ball is today.“

That’s right, his family members and other royals came once a year for a grand party. Typically there was no reason for it but other times there was. This time you were a prime reason. Hearing about your marriage they thought it was only right to meet this new king Hajime had married 

“Right, I almost forgot about that..“ he knew he first time you met his family it wasn’t the best. Especially because you still resented him then, but today will be different. He’ll dance with you properly, and make you smile, and will let it be know just who you were to him. 

“You’ll be fine, now go and get some sleep, I’ll see you at breakfast“ he kissed your forehead. As you walk away he gives a playful yet firm slap and grip to your ass making you shriek 

“Hey! That stays in the bedroom!“ you say trying not to let a smile crack and he simply chuckled watching you leave again. It was clear to say your rear was only one of his favorite spots on you

“Mmm that ass is all mine..“ he spoke to himself 

“Yes and don’t say that when I’m around please...“ whipping his head around Oikawa stood there with an uncomfortable face after hearing what he said. “She really turned you around, huh”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about...” Hajime brushed it off but Oikawa knew better 

“Whatever you say your highness, by the way your dress and suit is ready for tonight and will be brought to your room” 

“Thank you, so who exactly is coming?“

“Oh, that reminds me, Lilia will be attending...“ he said with a worried expression 

“Oh gods not her....“ he groaned

Now you see, Lilia has always had a major crush on Hajime. Even back then he wasn’t into her. She was the snobby spoiled brat who got everything she wanted, when she wanted. She had asked her father to make Hajime marry her and obviously he said no. Now that he had you he could only imagine what kind of chaos she’ll make.

Luckily for him, you knew how to maintain yourself. If you had to put her in place, he wouldn’t stop you. 

```

“Hajime are you almost ready?“ you call out having a final look in the mirror fixing yourself up where it was needed. 

“Do we seriously have to go, we can tell Oikawa to tell them we’re sick“ he groaned coming to you half dressed and wrapping his arms around your waist “I just want to lay here with you“

“Hajime, we’ve been getting noise complaints from the poor staff and I don’t think we should keep distur-“

“They’re busy aren’t they?“ he nipped at your ear making those butterflies flutter. Damn, you never fail to make him go wild do you? Oikawa was right about the dress. It hugged your figure perfectly, bringing out each curve he loved. Especially you bust for that matter, filthy noblemen better keep their eyes anywhere but there. 

Before you could make a move or say something you felt a bit lightheaded and stumbled forward a little.Your hand holding your forehead 

“Whoa, are you okay? Should I get the medic??” Hajime was now on high alter seeing you even a little off “The party can go to hell, lay down and-“

“Hajime I’m fine, just a little lightheaded, maybe I’m just hungry.“ you reassure him “Really, I’m okay“

“Alright, but if you feel even the slightest bit ill, you come and tell me.“ you nod and help him to finally finish dressing.

You were excited ti show everyone how fr you’ve come but you were also dreading it as well. Clipping his necklace together your hands rest on his chest and you smile up at him. He takes one of your hands and kisses your knuckles.

“come on your majesty, let’s greet your people.“ you joke taking his elbow into your hand and walking to the door. You could hear chatter starting to grow louder as you approach the doorway covered by velvet curtains. You take a deep breath and put on a gentle smile. The curtains open an the announcer spoke loudly 

“All hail King Hajime Iwaizumi and Queen Y/N Iwaizumi.“ You both descend the short steps as everyone bows and curtsy as you past by. One girl in particular stayed standing with her arms crossed a scowl on her face. Her mother then forced her to curtsy which she did with a sour look. Making it across the room and to your thrones, Hajime helps you sit and he takes the seat himself.  

Oikawa then came to Hajime and placed his crown upon his head. Rose came to your side and placed your- oh yes, you had given Rose position as your assistant. She is currently being taught to be an adviser.

After formalities from nobles, about an hour passed, and gods were you bored. Families and couple come to congratulate and give you their blessings on your marriage. The strength in your relationship didn’t go unnoticed by familiar faces. They cold tell you both had become closer, they could almost see the resemblance of their past king and queen. You both even got up to mingle with everyone, it was clear to say there was envy.

Envy that you were married to Hajime and not available to other men. Envy over you from other women who wished to be as alluring as you. Although after meeting you they find you to be very kind and warmed up to you. That was until,

“Hajime!“ a high pitched voice made you both jump and spin around. 

A girl around your age with blonde hair and stinging honey almost yellow eyes, and a dress that seemed too tight for her figure. Taking from how her chest looked suffocated in the corset to appear bigger. You could already feel her venom coursing through you veins, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. 

“Hello..Lilia uh, how have you been” he said stiffly pulling you closer to his side. He just needed to get enough hints across that she had no chance in the picture.

“Fine, I’ve missed you though“ she smiles at him as if you weren’t there “You’ve gotten more handsome over the years“

“Oh Y/N! It’s time for the dance come on darling.“ he rushed making sure to say darling loud enough. He pulls you to the dance floor and gets into position. Your hand on his shoulder the other holding his as his other hand stayed on your waist. Pulling you close he starts to sway with you

“So, what was that about?“ you asked your surprisingly shaken husband. He was obviously annoyed and wanted to leave as soon as she started flirting.

“Nothing...she just..*sigh* she liked me and probably still does. I just don’t want her to ruin anything“ he admits as you waltz across the floor. This was only the second time you danced with him only, it felt different. He wanted to be close to you, he wanted this moment together. The way the soft music filled your ears, and how his arm wrapped around you bringing you close. 

It was magical.

By the end of the song he pulled you in and kissed you deeply. Some whistles could be heard among the crowd of claps and cheers. You started to get hungry and eyed some delicious food at the table. You whisper into his ear that you wanted some food and that you would be at the table

“Maybe you should wait and we can both go“ yes, even with family he was very protective over you. It was a new environment and new people, not to mention a girl who was close to obsessed with him. 

 “Hajime, I’ll be fine, you can see me from here okay? Besides,” you peck his lips “My knight can come and save me right?”

He chuckled “Of course I will, just...be careful” you nod at him and make your way to the table. Even though you were a queen, your appetite said otherwise. It’s hard to eat just a salad when the chefs were so talented. There were fresh fruits, cooked meats, breads, soups, cakes, treats, endless, just plates of food!

“Are you enjoying yourself?“ a sudden cold voice called as you reached for some cake. Spinning around it was his aunt Joan

“O-oh, just fine. Everyone is really nice“ you try to keep your composure 

“I see you and Hajime are..“ she was looking for the right words 

“We’re getting along. In fact we love each other very much.“ for whatever reason, she seemed irritated “How have you been Joan“

“Busy. You may want to watch your appetite, a queen must stay presentable for her kingdom and people, not to mention your husband.“ you knew this lady was rude and blunt but what was she inferring to?

“Hajime likes when I eat, he says I could be 200 pounds or 95 pounds and he’d still love me“ you said confidently.

“Oh please, if anything you only look royalty“ why did the spoiled brat have to come too. “maybe he’s just using you and looking for a real princess, like me“ she sneered flipping her hair 

Hajime was in the middle of a conversation when he looked over to you. There you were being talked to by his aunt and Lilia. He gave his glass of wine to one of the guests and starts walking over there. The closer he came the more he could see and hear.

“You nothing but a little peasant rat who’s the king’s play thing. I bet you’re just after his riches.” you could feel the sting to the point your eyes start to water “Joan was right about you, you’re just a pitiful whore who-“

“Excuse me.“ Hajime’s powerful voice echos causing the party to come to a halt. He opened his arm motioning for you to come to him. You walk a bit fast and to his side where his arm comes protectively around you holding you close. 

“H-Hajime-“

“How dare you speak to my wife that way. Who do you think you are speaking ill of her after I invite you here as a guest.“ he scolds her as she almost seems to shrink 

“B-but haji...“

“Lilia, I love Y/N and that is final. Nothing can change my mind, not even you joan”

Her parents then come rushing over and fall to their knees begging for forgiveness

“Please your majesty forgive our daughter“

“She is but a child and doesn’t know what she is saying“

Her father then stood and took your hand “On behalf of Lilia I humbly apologize my queen“

“I um..“

“Father!“

“Sir please get up from the floor“

Your head begins to spin from everything going on. From the apologies to the crying of Lilia and Hajime trying to calm everyone down, to the growing chatter of the room. 

“Hajime please...“ you hide your face into his side “please...“

darkness consumes you as you faint and fall down his side

“Y/N/? Y/N?! Y/N!!“ Hajime calls out for you he drops to his knees and cradles you

“no...please open your eyes...” you were still breathing so that was good. He picks you up in his arms and looks for Oikawa. No words were needed and he quickly went to get the Royal healer.

“Dismiss everyone please.” He said quietly to Rose taking you up to his and your room. Meanwhile Rose made the announcement to everyone that the party had ended.

As he walked down the hall with you in his arms. His eyes water as his heart races. The his was al too familiar and he didn’t like it. He laid you down and stripped you out of your clothes. He died his best to get you in something comfortable and wash your face.

He sat at your side holding your hand close to his lips. The last time someone he loved was bedridden was when his mother was in her final fighting days. He couldn’t help but let a few tears fall. He knew he should have stayed with you, just Lilia being there was a sign.

“Iw- your majesty, the healer you requested” Oikawa announced coming inside with an elder looking woman. Oh does he recognize her alright

“Ah the prince, i seen you’ve grown much from when you were just a child” she said coming to your said checking to see if you had a temperature. Hajime stayed quiet as he watched her carefully

“Mmmm” you groan starting to wake up

“Y/N! Are you alright? Did you eat something bad?” He asked frantically about

“Mmm Im dizzy...and I feel sick..” it’s not what he wanted to hear

“What’s wrong with her?” He asked the woman desperate for answers

“I have a suspicion but you men need to step out for a moment-”

“I’m not leaving her.” He cuts her off

“Young man I have been in castle longer than you have been alive. I know what I am doing and your wife requires her privacy for it.” He said taking a stand to the stubborn king. It was true she was even the one to deliver him when he was born.

“Hajime, I’ll be okay...you can see me after” you reassured him. Hesitant and desperate were never a good combination. He reset his forehead against yours and kissed your lips gently.

“I love you..my dove.” He whispered against your lips kissing you once again

“And I love you my king” he lets your hand go and walks out of the room with Oikawa. The door closes with a silent click. The halls were deafeningly silent. Hajime sat in a chair, folded his hands and waited like a hunter stalking its prey.

He would sit there all night if he had to. If it meant making sure you were okay.

°°°° °°°° °°°°

Taglist; @vanilla-beanzz @hp-hogwartsexpress @sugarysweets-appreciation-blog @sophie-duck @mysteriousmagicx @toutorii @mystic-starlove @leviiiiiiiii @heavenly-warlord @birdiewolf @bakarinnie @postsfromthe6 @yatoatyourservice @lola2001 @kameko-ko @chewymoustachio

[soukokuwu]

This is a bit particular, but can I get a scenario on Dazai when his (female) s/o, whom he's been with for a while, tells him that she was has a terminal condition and she'll only live a few more years? He's bitter that she has to die so early and expects her to feel the same way, but he's surprised when she explains that she's gotten past her resentment of the situation and is only grateful that she was able to experience the world as long as she had? Tysm!

Dazai Osamu

➢ angst, a hint of fluff (dazai x reader)

➢ warnings, suicidal thoughts, death

➢ word count: 2.1k

➢ ah i always love a good angst theme! i hope you don’t mind that i made this a full story i just got so absorbed writing this that i kept going 🥺 i really hope you’ll like this anon! 🌻🤍

Life & You

Pain and loss.

They followed him everywhere, wherever he went, in every crevice he thought he could hide in. They were the only thing that reminded him he was even remotely human, of the fact that he had a beating heart. The heartache was the only thing to serve as proof that he was alive, since he had never truly felt the kind of joy that made his heart soar or the kind of excitement that made it sing.

The cuts that littered his skin, under all the wraps that he used to shield them from the world, were a small yet painful reminder that somehow he still longed to find something to ignite his desire for life. If he had wanted to die right then and there - if he was really, truly hopeless, the razor would have cut its way deeper into his skin instead of settling for shallow gashes on its surface.

Nothing else made Dazai Osamu human. He was a clump of negativity and sorrow, a disdainful mess that should eventually be discarded by everyone and everything he held dear. Someone undeserving of feeling any sort of human connection.

Or so he thought, until he met you.

You were a strange little thing. The most infectious kind of love bug he thought he would never get himself involved with. Yet there was something pulling him to you, like you were opposite poles of a magnet, likewise spurring an intrigue in you that drew you to him even though you hated his initially pessimistic outlook on life.

Neither of you were ever able to pinpoint why the attraction existed in the first place. And neither of you tried to explore it either. The both of you had sought something in the world that you had somehow found in each other. Neither of you questioned the nature of your love for fear that deeper probing might lead to proof that the two of you weren’t meant to be.

For Dazai found a reason to live in you. And for you found in him something to be thankful to have lived for.

But it was funny how a dream can be right there in front of you, so attainable, yet it can be as fleeting as it came, taken away from you just like that.

The doctor profusely apologised and the nurses looked away out of pity. You kept your silence, disappointed that it turned out this way yet you weren’t surprised in the least. Life had a knack for bringing you down when you were up, and this was just another one of those moments. Although this takes the kick.

It had taken a while for you to process the news. ‘A while’, which of course meant a few months. And each day you spent with Dazai, the guilt that you shouldn’t have felt grew and grew. None of this was anyone’s fault, you were pretty sure it wasn’t even genetic. There was no one to blame but the cruel hands of fate. But fate doesn’t exist in a tangible form for you to take your hate out on. The only thing you could do was accept it. You knew that, but you knew Dazai didn’t.

This insecurity that built up inside you had caused you to put off breaking the news to him. But if you had learned anything throughout your own journey of acceptance, it was that faith could tide you through the darkest of times and the bleakest of moments, even if it had to be blind.

You had to trust in him. You had to believe that Dazai would continue loving you, even in death, and carry your wish for him to keep on living, no matter how selfish it seemed.

It was painful; to be able to see the pain flashing in his eyes even as he was trying his hardest not to show it. But you weren’t his lover for nothing. You could notice these tiny, subtle movements and twitches. Only most of the time you acted like you didn’t, if only to ease the possible worry Dazai would harbor about making you feel bad.

Throughout your relationship he had been calm and collected, his comedic facáde never once fading. Not even when he had to explain to you about his old scars, not even when you spotted him nearly committing suicide that one time. Which was why you were surprised at his sudden outburst upon hearing of your future, or lack thereof.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” was the first thing he shouted. You could see the anger, the upset in his face, this being the first time he’s ever worn his heart on his sleeve. “Why do you sound so calm telling me this? And how do you expect me to be fucking okay with this?”

Dazai was bitter, oh so bitter. Tears made tracks down his face as he continued lashing out. His wild hand gestures and uncouth words only served to show just how angry he was at the world for, yet again, wanting to take away that with which he held most dear. He uttered a string of hopeless wishes, thinking of any possible ways to hold onto hope that you would be able to properly grow old with him.

Of course it was all futile. Your future was already set in stone. There was no changing the fucked-up ways of fate. It took a while for him to calm down, and out on the balcony the sunlight was fading, the colours of the day soon to disappear. The orange hue brought a calm that was missing throughout his rampage.

The two of you were sitting out on the patio chairs, with Dazai still hanging his head down, both hands tugging at his hair, body rocking back and forth as though it would wake him from the cruel dream he wished it was. You had to say your piece anyway, no matter how much he didn’t want to hear it. He was angry you didn’t tell him about this sooner, yes, but what made him more upset was because he didn’t understand how you’ve accepted all this, and why you’re taking this lying down.

“Because I found you, Osamu.”

Dazai swallowed the lump in his throat upon hearing your words, a feeling of utter confusion washing over him. He forced himself to turn to look at you, and he met you with his brown, desolate eyes, only serving to magnify the ache in your heart. But you steeled your resolve. This conversation still had to happen.

“You asked me why I’m not mad, right?” you reminded him, giving him the strongest smile you could manage. “I am not terrified of dying. Am I afraid? Maybe a smidge. Much less so if there’s nothing I can do about it. But Osamu?” As you focused on your lover’s beautiful face in front of you, you feel your smile growing more and more genuine by the second. “I was only able to be this happy because I met you. You are the reason why I’ve finally been able to be grateful for living.”

Dazai processed your words with suppressed joy rather than his earlier anger, the former growing as he listened further. These were words you thought but could never bring yourself to admit. And even in this situation, he reveled in hearing it. Someone like him, who could only have dreamt of what happiness felt like, actually instilled the feeling in you? The most beautiful human being he’s ever known?

“If death is going to consume me in the next few years, all I’m worried about is not when it happens. All I want to think about is how do we make our next few years together count, Osamu,” you told him, your voice strong with conviction.

You weren’t done, but Dazai couldn’t wait to pull you into a hug, stifling his sobs as he did, arms gradually wrapping themselves tighter and tighter around you. It was a simple message he was conveying: an apology for the unnecessarily long outburst and the assurance that he understood completely what you meant.

When he pulled away, you realised the tear tracks had dried, and he had a visibly calmer ambience to him. It was as though you could see the love in his eyes as he stared into yours, which was something considering Dazai never thought he could convey any love without having to explicitly do or say anything.

And as the last rays of the sun found its way below the horizon, he uttered to you the most loving words he had ever said.

“My precious belladonna, I will be together with you until your time comes, and I promise not to make you worry even after you leave.”

And Dazai Osamu kept his word. While you were still able to take your place beside him, and even after you ceased to exist. He had poured his heart and soul into loving you, something that he would never tolerate you arguing with him over. You would always tell him to do a little something for himself, not to keep prioritising you above everything.

“I will always put my belladonna first,” he would always say. “You’re going to take a whole other journey without me, could you just allow me this honour of treating you like my princess, while I can?”

You couldn’t argue with him then. After all, it was all thanks to the brunette that you were able to fully enjoy every second of your last few years in this world. Never once did he fuck up, never once did he make you feel bad about your terminal illness, never once did he show himself breaking down just thinking about life after you.

All the memories you carried on your deathbed were full of Dazai and the happiness throughout your relationship. How he had always made sure you got everything you wanted, be it simple things like food or even an overseas trip to Europe like you’ve always dreamed of. How he had treated you gentler than he thought he could ever handle anything at all. How he had proposed to you despite knowing your circumstances. How he had made sure you had the wedding of your dreams.

Even when the illness took a toll for the worst, Dazai had never let himself falter. He understood you needed him to be as strong as possible, even though you wouldn’t admit it. Showing how utterly despondent he actually was would only make things worse. So he didn’t. He continued giving you his endless care, feeding you when you were too weak to move your fingers, massaging your legs when you felt sore, and showering you with kisses no matter how frail and repulsive you thought you looked.

And now the memories were his and his alone.

As Dazai sat on your side of the bed and looked at your wedding picture, framed up and hung on the wall, he finally allowed his tears to flow. It had been a long, painful week since your passing. He had had to arrange everything, the funeral, the catering— everything.

Dazai did not have a care in the world for the expensive pressed suit he was currently wearing. He collapsed onto the bed - he swore it still smelled like you - and all anyone else could hear in the dark of the night was the painful cries of a man who had lost his wife.

A man who found something he thought didn’t exist at all and lost it to the void. A man who remembered his lover’s smile, the memories of how happy she had been on their wedding night, saying their vows, and every night after that. A man who wanted so desperately to follow her in the afterlife, only to look at his old razors and remember his promise to her. A man who wanted so badly for none of this to be real, and to wake up seeing her peaceful face on the pillow next to his. A man who thought he was a monster, finding his savior in the world he had lost hope in, an angel who brought him up from the depths of his own hell, and had to watch helplessly as she slowly fell into the abyss herself. And now a man who couldn’t find anything else to live for, save for the hopeless promise of staying alive for you, no matter how empty it made him feel.

He screamed out your name one last time before letting it drown in his sobbing, the light that appeared and stayed in his life the moment you came gradually fading away, leaving Dazai alone in the dark once more.

tags: @yokelish @gogolparadise

[cygin]

HC  :  CYRIL + THE  ALMYRAN  ARMY / CAPTURE  BY  HOUSE  GONERIL.

                                                       ATTITUDE.

so i’ve been spending a lot of time thinking about cyril’s time as a child soldier, and thinking carefully on portraying it true to the few clues we’re given as well as realistic to the situation and circumstance he was in. 

at a glance, it seems like cyril is completely resentful of his time there. you can trace interactions alluding to that in more than one support, though the one with claude sticks out the most in my head. however, there’s another conversation with byleth that cyril has after hilda’s paralogue: 

Cyril: They aren't really trying to cross Fódlan's Throat. I'm not saying they're not serious, but fights like this one aren't really invasions. Byleth: Then what are they doing? Cyril: They just start fights like this sometimes. It's so they can show off how strong they are. I think it's pretty dumb. I mean, people are getting killed! And why? So some guy can think he's tough? After every fight, they do a big feast, and everybody eats and dances and there's music... It's supposed to honor the dead, but I figure they just like to make noise. I think they're all idiots, but if I'm real honest, it wasn't the worst way to live life. Byleth: Feeling homesick? Cyril: Nah, I'm where I belong now, and I don't really like Almyra. If they wanna show how tough they are, then they oughta look after kids who've lost their parents.

it’s a conflicting account by all means. cyril sounds fond when he describes it --- but when byleth asks if he’s homesick, he quickly sobers and points out that he’s too angry about his past to feel that way.

i don’t think cyril actually hates almyra or almyrans. he’s said more than once that there is nothing for him there, and it’s true; he has no family, no land, nothing to really live for. and furthermore, he witnessed his parents and brother be murdered in something that wasn’t even a true battle, but a petty skirmish between almyrans and fodlanese soldiers. so in that sense, he speaks scornfully of his experience. he’s bitter about what war took from him. who wouldn’t be?

                                    CONSCRIPTION INTO THE ALMYRAN ARMY.

so next we go to the fact that cyril says he was picked up and served in the almyran army. he was nine years old when that happened; the army picked him up and didn’t put a sword in his hand, but realistically speaking, he’s an orphan who came from a family with no money and a farm he can’t tend. his farm was seized by the army, divided and sold, and cyril ... well, he frankly would have died had they not taken him in. i’m sure they believed it was the only thing of value that cyril could do, working for them.

being young, cyril mostly performed menial tasks: tended the horses and wyverns, polished swords and armor, washed clothes, strung bows, etc. in exchange, he was fed and ( somewhat ) protected. i imagine that some of the soldiers probably befriended him. some probably even started out just like him. they told him that when he got older he could be a soldier too and take revenge on those who killed his family. cyril, a child, didn’t care for those things --- he simply wanted them back. but knowing he was lucky to be alive and perhaps wishing he’d perished with his family, he says nothing and simply nods.

for an orphan from a rural town, joining the army is more or less his only future. he will have nothing otherwise. so they treat him as a boy who will one day join their ranks when he becomes a man. they teach him basic skills, to fire a bow and to hold a knife, things like that. it’s for hunting, but they’re honest in telling him he may one day need those skills for something else. none of these men are his brother and his father, but they’re all he has, for a while.

he’s small and quick; at best, they use him to send messages and sneak past guarded lines to plant or sabotage things. he knows the things he has to do cause people to die. he knows what they want when they tell him to sneak into camp and poison water supplies, fire arrows from a safe distance, and so on and so forth. those are the scariest things he has to do, but he does them because they’re his job. still, he knows that these are the most dangerous tasks he has to perform and that if he fails, he’ll likely be killed.

after a battle, they always celebrate. they laugh when they feed him wine and he spits it out, too bitter for his underdeveloped palette, slapping his back a little too hard, promising him that whichever warrior they honor could be him one day, with a stoic face like that. with strong arms like that. on those days, the feeling of death so close to him he’s sure it’ll take him. but the euphoria afterwards, the dancing, the singing, the feast ... it’s something like happiness. it’s one of the only time they see that boy smile.

                                                            FIRST  KILL.

it’s an accident, honestly.  cyril is sending a message when someone falls on top of him and hisses in shock that it’s a child. it’s the dead of night, and he’s a soldier in nightclothes. he doesn’t let cyril go. cyril knows better than to scream and draw attention, but he struggles uselessly against one much stronger than him. the soldier underestimates the boy  --- reaches for his weapon and turns his head, and cyril doesn’t hesitate to lodge his little skinning knife into his throat. the soldier falls, and cyril feels the cold rush of terror and the sickness that comes with taking his first life ... but he knows the soldiers were right : if it wasn’t the soldier, it would have been him, and he perhaps needed the skills they taught him after all. he takes the knife back and haggardly returns to camp  --- blood - stained, sunken, sick to his stomach. no one coddles him; this is war. his job is to survive, and nothing more. he wants his mother.

                                           CAPTURE BY HOUSE GONERIL.

he’s ten when he’s captured. he’s survived a whole year to see the battle at fodlan’s throat, and its the most gruesome one yet. he cannot hang in the back lines --- there are none. he’s seen enough to know that they’re going to lose. he knows it the moment the captain falls, crimson staining sandy plains, tainting the shifting soil red. he knows there will be no surrender. he does what he did when his family was killed --- he runs. he’s fast, but not faster than a horse. not faster than the heavy hand that smacks him to the ground, lance pointed at his throat as he desperately scrambles with his back to a tree. he remembers his brother. he was killed for fighting. he remembers his father, killed for intervening. he remembers his mother, killed for sobbing. he does none of these things. he looks up with fear, with hatred, with morbid anticipation ill-fitting a boy so small:  do your worst,  his face seems to say.

is it luck or not that the soldier who captures him prides himself of being a man of the church? should he be fortunate that he found it repugnant to kill a child? his wrists are tied and he’s made to lay on the horse, and he wonders if surviving this war is worth it. he wonders if he is better off than he would have been being here and not fallen in the valley with the other soldiers.

he’s the only survivor of this battle, and he knows it when he sees not a single other person of his kind bound in the camp like he. he’s brought before lord goneril, and the soldier asks the question with an air of chilling simplicity: it’s  just  a  boy.  what  do  we  do  with  him?  he knows there is a chance he still may die, but the more he thinks on it, the less unappealing it sounds: he ran, didn’t he? almyrans didn’t like cowards. he’d be killed if he went back. there wasn’t anyone to go back to. if they killed him, he thought, no one would lose anything of value --- not even him.

but they don’t. they take him to serve instead.

they don’t like him. they don’t feed him like the almyran soldiers did. if he gets one meal a day, he’s lucky. a bed of hay is where he lays his head. he cleans, he works. they speak about him as if he’s some kind of horrifying caged beast that they’ve captured, as though he were a lion cub: sure, they could raise it, but don’t you worry it’ll grow to turn against you? they think he doesn’t understand what they say. he is careful not to correct them. some know --- you can hear us, boy, can’t you?  --- they never have anything good to say. just like in the army, he thinks that every day, he might die here.

there are simply no more feasts.

[peepingtoad]

@kyugens​ said: Does Jiraiya resent Hiruzen in any way, for the way he handled things regarding Orochimaru, Minato and even Naruto? And even so, is Jiraiya aware of the Third's tendencies to oversee Danzo's vile plans, and how that's affected negatively the village? Does Jiraiya wish he could've done something differently about that? | headcanon asks | always accepting! |

I believe there are a number of things that Jiraiya resents Hiruzen for, the above included—but I think it’s still important, before I go into it, to say that Jiraiya still holds a lot of love and respect for the man, and would never place all the blame on his shoulders for the world’s ills. Especially as he grows older and realises that his own choices during difficult times had consequences, he does have faith that Hiruzen really did have the best interests of the Village at heart... mostly, and even if that in itself was often at odds with his own beliefs of treating people with humanity regardless of where they come from. Even so, he is left in the end with very complex feelings around Hiruzen for a number of reasons.

It’s probably safe to assume that while the Sannin were growing up, they probably thought Hiruzen was the bees knees. I mean, they were being taught personally by the Hokage himself—how cool is that? I believe that Jiraiya considered him very trustworthy, what with Hiruzen being his only male role model, to the point where I headcanon he was the only one Jiraiya told about Gamamaru’s prophecy after he first heard it. This is how I believe a young Jiraiya was allowed to travel the world for a little while even before taking on a genin team of his own (as per filler, which I have happily cherrypicked).

But as far the other scant material we’re given goes, I’d say that the big turning point for them all comes with how the Second War was conducted. Namely, Hiruzen’s refusal to hear Tsunade out regarding the need for more focus on the medical field, which without a doubt shocked Jiraiya (I think I recall seeing him in the background of that scene). He would have expected, being both on the frontlines and close to Hiruzen, that their opinions on the state of affairs would be taken very seriously, so seeing one of their trio being brushed aside definitely stung—and would sting the more their comrades dropped like flies all around them, as realisation sunk in that they were reduced to cannon fodder, with medical support limited to Tsunade and perhaps a few others who had informally discovered a flair for it at the time.

Next comes the relatively light consequences he faced for remaining in Ame for three years to train the orphans, which again Jiraiya (perhaps naively) saw at first as Hiruzen respecting his dreams of realising the prophecy. Given the implication that this is where the Sannin really begin to fall apart, my headcanon is that the years following his return saw him being utilised more for espionage than before, leading him to find his niche as an adept spy... with the downside of not being home enough to reconnect with his friends (whether Tsunade has already gone by that point is variable for me in RP terms, but I like to think she was allowed to stop fighting and establish proper training for medical-nin when it became clear there would be a Third War). 

Of course, there then comes the point where Hiruzen offers Jiraiya the Hokage seat for the first time, which frankly floors him given he’d never expressed an interest before. Worse than that, however, is the fact it drives a more decisive wedge between himself and Orochimaru. This would become a source of resentment as it seemed almost like a deliberate move to pit them against each other or even a cowardly means on Hiruzen’s part to divert Orochimaru’s bitterness away from himself—either that, or the old man was acting on the misguided belief that things were well enough between them that Orochimaru would simply fall into line with Jiraiya becoming the leader. Not to mention, Jiraiya couldn’t help suspecting that there were those who would see him shackled to the village rather than going out into the world and seeking change his own way, rather than the village’s. And after learning what became of Sakumo under Hiruzen’s watch, who could blame him for becoming suspicious of every move?

But I think it’s important to recognise that ROOT, even at this point, was still highly secretive to the point where Jiraiya clearly didn’t have any idea as to its involvement with the death of Yahiko—which, of course, had been reported to Jiraiya as all three of the orphans’ deaths (which I believe was directly and deliberately Danzō’s doing, but for the sake of brevity I’ll maybe go into that another time... tbh I can’t even remember if I’ve written this in a headcanon to date). It wouldn’t be until shortly before the Uchiha Clan Massacre that Jiraiya would gain even an inkling as to how truly bad ROOT was, his only knowledge prior to then being that Orochimaru was able to get away with unethical experiments for so long thanks to being part of ROOT. However by the time the Uchiha Massacre was impending and he confronted his fleeing ex-students, he gained some small insight into the powers behind Hiruzen that he realised could never be ousted while Hiruzen was still in the Hokage seat (which naturally led him to the force of nature that is Tsunade upon Hiruzen’s death, knowing that he would forever be needed far afield).

Of course, by this point Minato, who was the one person Jiraiya truly believed could have changed things, had already perished. While Jiraiya doesn’t place blame on Hiruzen for the fact he and Kushina died (because truly at the time, he was too busy wondering ‘could I have stopped it’), he was aware that Minato himself had entrusted Hiruzen specifically with Naruto’s upbringing. His late student equipped him with the details of Naruto’s seal and the warning of the masked man on purpose, so that he could go on to discover the culprit and put a stop to them where a Hokage couldn’t—and awful as it was, taking on the duty of working in the background was an easy enough thing for a grieving Jiraiya to accept at this point, knowing he’d not be in any position to raise a child (read: knows but won’t admit he is depressed, see the linked headcanon which sort of answers a lot of this question in general now that I look back on it).

By the time we come to the big man’s official First Appearance, with the hindsight of the entire story (and my embellishments) at my disposal, I think the bad blood is pretty clear by the fact he directly tells Ebisu not to let Hiruzen know of his return at all. We don’t see him speak to Hiruzen even once between returning to Konoha after twelve years and the old man’s death, which I think says a lot, and revisiting these themes now I can see a lot of that being to do with what he allowed to fly in terms of ROOT and Danzō, but also what he learns of how Naruto was raised... for which there is really no excuse, because even if Jiraiya also wasn’t around, Naruto could have at least been afforded knowledge of what he was, as per his parents’ wishes (and again, I think Jiraiya was encouraged to go off and do his thing because that secret would not remain safe with him while Naruto was small). Then there’s also the matter of him not going to Hiruzen’s funeral, instead going to the place where he had fond childhood memories to mourn in private—because they really were the only fond ones he had from before Hiruzen became so apathetic.

... So in essence, yeah. Jiraiya’s full of resentment, as much as I think the child in him does still love Hiruzen. In fact, I believe Hiruzen was the prime example of why Jiraiya never wanted to set foot into that office as Konoha’s ruler. However I do think that he recognises where he could have focused his own energies more on the village—for example, had he returned upon learning that there was foul play involved with the Uchiha Clan Massacre, he might even have found out that not all of the Ame kids died, or something else that could have prevented him going into Ame blind to die. But of course, that is a choice he recognises as his own. It was between focusing on cleaning up Konoha and getting embroiled in that whole mess with nobody who would realistically back him up (after helping two fugitives—one being Hiruzen’s own son—to escape no less, as per my headcanon), or allowing those who orchestrated the Kyūbi attack to go unchecked.

TL;DR it’s complicated. He resents Hiruzen, he wishes he could have changed things, but knows what else he would have risked going unchecked to do so.

[red-elric]

so ive read fruits basket like twenty times, and over the last couple of years i noticed that, each time, i was drawn more and more to the characters of kimi and momiji, and identified with them in a way that was really confusing to me because i didnt really think i *actually* had a very similar personality to either of them? (discord friends may disagree but, well, this whole post is going to be about people and characters who change up their personality to be more likable.) i got all introspective about it and finally came to a conclusion about their characters that i subconsciously knew already: the key similarity between the two of them and myself is the way we very carefully layer subtle personality masks for ourselves to protect ourselves and to seem more approachable and likable without actually being vulnerable to other people. (other characters in furuba do this a lot too--key examples that come to mind are tohru, kagura, and yuki--but i care more about momiji and kimi so this is about them.)

to clarify a bit what i mean by this, ill start with a personal example. ive always been pretty good at remembering people’s names, especially if i think theyre cool and want to become friends with them, but i noticed around middle school or high school that people subconsciously find it intimidating/stalkerish if you know their name and they cant remember yours, especially if youve only met once. on the other hand, if they *do* remember your name, and you admit to not remembering theirs, they feel empowered and sympathetic to your situation; and if neither of you remember the other’s name, you have a moment of solidarity that can lead to a more relaxed relationship. so, i started pretending to have a manageable amount of trouble remembering the names of people i wanted to be friends with. the first two or three times that i meet someone, at some point i will use “clarifying their name” as a conversation starter, ie: “you’re....[], right?” or “is it []?” this is a small effect of a pattern of behavior i tend to follow: feigning incompetence to gain trust and camaraderie. is it manipulative? absolutely, but harmlessly so. its directly derived from my own social anxieties, but its a relatively healthy way to feel more connected with my peers and to stop feeling ostracized by people who resent me for being “smarter” than them--something i struggled with a lot in my youth. momiji and kimi dont put up the *same* masks as myself, but they are both rather adept at maintaining their own masks, and are both incredibly socially perceptive in the same way that i am: they analyze people’s reactions to their behavior and sculpt themselves to get the reaction they want.

lets take a look at what this means for kimi. surface level, kimi seems pretty cookie cutter--sure, shes a little chaotic, but she fits quite nicely into the femme fatale/dumb blonde trope (even though shes not blonde). but did you know that shes actually at the top of her class? its subtle, but to me its always been obvious that shes actually incredibly intelligent and constantly manipulating people to suit her needs. there are easy examples of this, of course: flirting with a teacher to get a new whiteboard, anyone? but there’s one scene that’s always spoken volumes to me about her character, and that’s the one-off joke where kakeru starts to say some “secret” about her, clearly joking, and she immediately shuts him down by cutting him off with “don’t say unnecessary things!” and elbowing him in the side, all while still smiling cheerfully. the subtlety of this is that, with her reaction, she’s actually imitating their audience: yuki. it’s yuki she doesn’t want to know about whatever kakeru knows, so she shuts down kakeru in a way we’ve seen yuki yell at kakeru whenever kakeru makes idiotic jokes. the physical attack, the angry smile, accusing kakeru of saying something annoying, but that doesnt really matter; none of these are particularly characteristic to kimi, she causes as much chaos as kakeru on a good day, but they’re incredibly recognizable to yuki. her reaction is familiar to yuki, and it invokes an assumption that kakeru is making a lame joke, not trying to reveal one of her deepest, darkest secrets, and it works because yuki would react completely differently if kakeru tried to tell someone about *his* secrets. yuki doesnt pursue the subject further, kakeru bounces back easily and doesnt give it a second thought, and kimi is safe. so, we can tentatively say that kimi has a habit of reflecting other’s expectations to hide her true self.

now, is this one scene enough on its own to prove this idea? of course not. however, when we view her actions as a whole we start to see a pattern. we see several instances where kakeru will say something stupid and kimi will listen, encourage it, or say something just as stupid back; it’s only when he tries to reveal something about *her* that she shuts him down. we see subtle signs of genuine anger when he tries to reveal her secret: the overly violent jab, the tensed vein/angry eyebrows, etc--not very characteristic for happy-go-lucky, flirtatious kimi. and, of course, we have several examples of how she manipulates a) men into buying things for her, granting her favors, leaving their girlfriends for her, etc; and b) women into feeling inferior to her, feeling aggravated with her, and thinking she’s incredibly troublesome but knowing that they can’t argue with the men about it. overall, its not a far stretch at all to think she’s manipulating everyone around her to avoid revealing information about her true self: a proud, intelligent woman who enjoys causing chaos, but is also very manipulative and controlling to the people around her and hates being vulnerable.

momiji is in some ways similar, and in other ways very very different. most people--especially characters in the story with him--tend to put momiji in this “sweet, innocent child” box. it’s not just his height--his fashion, mannerisms, outlook on life, etc are all very reminiscent of someone much younger than he is, and people tend to *treat* him like he’s much younger than he is. even if they know intellectually that yes, momiji is significantly older than he appears, it’s very easy for the older sohmas to treat him as a troublesome but still loved younger sibling--someone to be taken care of, not taken too seriously, someone lovable. i’ve seen several people point out that part of *why* momiji does this is because he subconsciously feels that hes not allowed to act like an older sibling (to momo), so he acts as a younger sibling in an effort to get a similar sort of familial bond without overstepping the boundaries that his family instilled in his mind, and i agree. i believe momiji has a habit of feigning youth to more easily bond with the people he loves. his childish actions and behavior make him easier to deal with, and also give him a little more leeway to do things that would normally frowned upon if he appeared older, ex: sleeping in a bed with tohru, wearing a girl’s uniform top to school, taking any chance he can get to be physically affectionate with people, indulging in sweets and candy, etc.

two things draw momiji’s true personality out of its shell: his growth spurt, forcing people to acknowledge his actual age, and the breaking of his curse. late game momiji, to me, has always seemed bitter, tired, and sarcastic, as opposed to the sweet, energetic, and sincere front he’d put on for most of the series, which is very interesting to me. of course, you’d normally *expect* someone who’s gone through as much as momiji to *be* bitter, tired, sarcastic, etc; however, when he puts his child-like mask on, it’s easy to pretend that he’s this loving, saintly child who bears no ill will towards anyone, who can be knocked to hell and back and still stand back up to smile again. and i do think it’s true that momiji has an incredible capacity for forgiveness and love, but there’s also no denying that he has a limit, and we can see that during his first conversation with akito after his curse breaks. this, i think, is the most raw, true representation of momiji in the whole story; momiji has lost his link with the family he made for himself in the zodiac, he’s been physically forced to grow out of his persona, he’s finally seeing that his primary abuser is really not so powerful after all, and he’s forced to finally confront the fact that, while his curse, the thing that caused most of the troubles in his life, is broken, the impacts it already had on his life won’t magically go away. momiji in this scene seems completely disconnected from akito, who is still caught up in the curse, still desperately trying to hold everything together; in his lowest moment, we can finally see momiji, not as an all-forgiving saint, but as someone who just wants to start over. he’s not happy that his curse ended; id even go as far to say that momiji, out of every zodiac, is the one who most wishes it was still around, for the bond that it gave him with the other zodiacs and as something he could pin the blame on for his family struggles. which is why it is so sad to me that his was among the first to break.

now, yall probably know by now that i am a momimi bitch, so lets talk about them together. most of the people i see shipping them--and i fully admit, this is how i started shipping them--simply just say “same energy,” make a few cute headcanons about how they’d use each other for clout, and call it a day. this is perfectly fine. however, here at Overthinking It Inc., we take it a few steps deeper. personally, i have a hard time getting invested in a ship unless i can see how the characters compliment each other, how they help each other grow, and how they could genuinely enjoy each other’s company enough to pursue a romantic relationship. it took a little bit of obsessive extrapolating, but ive finally figured out just *how well* momiji and kimi compliment each other.

momiji, at the end of furuba, is going through a metamorphosis. he’s been forced out of his childish persona and into the life of an adult rather quickly, and he takes the opportunity to try to become more true to himself. we can see, in the last few chapters, the beginnings of bounds of growth; however, i imagine that there is a significant “awkward” period in his growth. judging from what i know about his character, i believe he would, in his effort to be more honest and confident, overcompensate a bit; he would become overbearing, intense, perhaps even oversharing. he might have a tendency to try to figure out what’s “wrong” with his friends and family, might always be trying to “fix” everything. i could easily see him, in fact, develop a bit of a selfish attitude (albeit rooted in kindness--it is, after all, still momiji); in his journey to stop letting people walk all over them, i believe he might become prone to walking over people himself. he’d have no idea where the lines are, where someone’s limits are, because he never had the chance to test them out in his youth, and because the people in power in his life (his parents and akito) never respected anyone else’s limits. enter kimi: tough, walled off, and incredibly secretive, though she tries to hide it. momiji, with his social perceptiveness, would notice at some point how difficult it is for her to form genuine, emotional connections with others, and would feel the urge to help her, to draw her out of her shell, not realizing that she doesnt necessarily want to be understood, nor that she’s (now entering headcanon territory, be warned) *scared* of those kinds of relationships. she’d take it, for a while, but there would come a time when she’d snap. this would do wonders for helping momiji figure out where the boundaries are, and how to be more aware of other people’s wants and needs (and it is something that tohru, reserved little wallflower that she is, would never be able to do for him).

kimi, on the other hand, has not quite started developing her character at the end of the manga. i like to apply all sorts of believable anxieties onto her: maybe she regrets not having an easy connection with other girls, like she does with boys. maybe she refuses to believe in the familial structure (that momiji idolizes). maybe she’s so used to playing the part of the homewrecker that, when she finally realizes that she’s found something or someone she truly loves, she doesn’t know how to handle it, and always worries that somebody’s going to take it away for her. maybe she views connections with others, or vulnerability, as a weakness, something that could be used against her, and tries to do everything she can to wall people off and hide her true feelings. well, good news for her, momiji is the resident king of loving family structures. family is something he truly loves and understands, from how much he’s admired it from afar, and been grateful for the family he’s made for himself in hatori, tohru, and the other zodiac. he’s well primed to help her understand what a true family is like, that real love is a good thing, not a scary thing, and that it’s okay to be vulnerable sometimes. this big, sweethearted doofus who somehow managed to see how much she was struggling under the many layers of masks that she hides beneath? there’s no way kimi wouldnt fall for him. and she, this girl who challenges everything he believes in, teaches him valuable lessons about how far is too far, and is basically the most fun person he’s ever met? there’s no way momiji wouldn’t fall for her.

i believe the two of them would start things off as almost a play; theyd portray a satire of the ideal male and female celebrity couple rather easily; theyd lean into the standard boy and girl roles almost ridiculously so, drawing attention to the absurdity of the standard relationship and somehow flirting through it. kimi, as we know, likes to pretend to be this helpless, flirtatious, “i couldnt possibly do anything on my own, oh whatever shall i do O3O” caricature of the feminine “ideal” to draw men in; momiji, i feel, would respond to that with a dorky, happy-go-lucky, “i can help you with that, miss ; )” caricature of the masculine, “ideal” gentleman, just for fun. theyd put on a show, for each other, for their peers, and for themselves, but they would eventually run into some troubles (detailed above). things would be tense, but theyd keep up their personas--why would they *ever* admit to their flaws to the outside world, theyre perfect? their friends would notice, of course, but wouldnt be able to do much about it; in the end, the only people perceptive enough to read through the bullshit of one is the other. theyd come to an understanding--spoken or unspoken (with the subtleties of their relationship, its not unreasonable that they could change their entire perspective of their relationship with just actions, not direct words or conversation)--and shift back into their previous, flirtatious relationship, except its different this time. because now, they understand each other, they love each other, theyre practically reading the other’s mind, and theyre perfectly in tune. rather than putting on masks to hide from each other, they wear one together to hide from the world--but, they think, that’s probably enough.

[minichedders]

high stakes 0.1

bodyguard!tom holland x reader

Your small black heels clicked against the wooden pleated floor, echoing in the empty, white hallways, pictures of you and the family spread across the wall every so often, in between pieces of expensive art pieces and photography canvases. The white dress you were wearing blended in with the white, light hallway, your skin shining and glowing against the composition, complimenting your bright eyes and hair. The familiar dark red oak door came into your view as you huffed, tucking in your hair away from your face, the faint beating of your heart skipping every so often you had no reason to be nervous, but the sudden urgent texts and calls from your father had always worried you, especially with the fact that his security had almost tripled since the last time you visited. 

Three light knocks landed on the door, your palms slightly clammy and shaking as the reached for the handle, twisting gently, emphasising the faint squeak it gave off, and the moaning of the great oak double doors. The first thing you noticed was your father, dark suit, dark facial features and his slumped body language, his age and tiredness practically flooding the room's atmosphere, and you almost cried at the sight of him. The second thing you noticed, was the man in front of you, how hadn't turned toward you, so all you could see was his dark brown curls, his tall stature and position in the office chair, if you hadn't known any better, you would assume your father was in a meeting but you had been cleared to come inside.

“Hi Daddy,” You said, walking around the large dark desk, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on your fathers cheek, rubbing your thumb against his skin gentle whilst giving him a loving smile as he looked up at you, and all you saw was a broken puppy, lost and tired, which broke your heart.

“Hello sweet pea, please sit down,” You father replied, motioning to the second office chair placed next to the stranger. Now you had a good look at him, and it took your breath away, his dark eyes where solely focuses on you, building your nerves as they looked you up and down. You walked over, sitting down next to him, trying not to keep close o the intoxicating smell that leaked off the man's body.

“What's going on dad?” You asked, you fingers fidgeting as you bounced your foot up and down, tapping against the floor rhythmically.

“Sweet pea, this is Tom, your new appointed bodyguard,” Your father said, nearly choking on his words as he watched your face fall, confusion, shock and little anger fell over you as you stayed speechless.

“Since I have merged with another business we had to make a lot of changes, I have received multiple threats, which doesn't bother me, but now they are using you as a target as well, so I need to keep you safe,” You dad started, and every so often, your eyes would travel form your father to the man next to you, who had been looking at you since you sat down, making you feel slightly nauseous. "So, Tom will be staying with you until we can eliminate the threat,"

You sat for a while, both your father and Tom looking at you, waiting for your reaction as you stayed motionless. You blinked multiple times over, trying to calm your swirling mind, making you dizzy, shaking your head slightly as you looked at your father.

"He's staying with me?" Dad, have you really thought this through? It cant be that serious, I can look after myself," You said, turning sour as you hear Tom scoff beside you, causing you to look him up and down with a dirty look on your face; you must admit, he was beyond attractive, but a bodyguard. Really?

"Yes, until I can be sure you are safe on your own, you need to be nice to Tom, and do anything and everything he tells you too, I'm sorry sweet pea," You father said, and your bitterness built up; you didnt want a stranger living with you, just when you had gotten to the routine of being by yourself, walking around in basically nothing whilst eating a shit ton of pot noodle, now you had to wear clothes and cook meals for you both.

"Don't even fucking bother," You sighed, standing up and leaving. You flooded with guilt as you remembered your fathers face, but you stood your ground, walking down the same hallways and making your way back to your car, saying hello to the familiar security and maids that roamed through.

Before you could even pull open the car door, it slammed shut in front of you, Toms body coming into view before you as you rolled your eyes to the heavens.

"Seriously? I can't even drive?" You scoffed, shoving the car keys harshly into his chest as you rounded the car and made your way to the passenger's seat.

"Why are you so against this?" Tom said, staring the car and pulling ou the gravel driveway.

"Normally the security doesn't talk to the client, just saying," You remarked, thinking about all the films and book you had studied, where the security guards took place in the background, but then in your previous experiences, you were always close and friendly with the staff your father hired.

"What about Princess Diaries? Don't they fall in love" Tom said, laughing to himself as you ignored him. You were surprised, he didnt seems like the kind of guy that would watch cheesy chick flics, but here you were. The short car journey was filled with silence, it was uncomfortable, biting away at your skin as you watched the familiar scenery pass you by. You had always stayed close to your father, mainly because of his guilt-tripping about abandoning him, but this way the only way you could be your own person and grow up, which your father also resented.

a mix of anger and anxiety coursed through your veins as you got out of the parked car and into your house, disregarding any emotional or physical response Tom had to your brisk actions. It was unnecessary for him to be here, to live here, you had always received a threat and you didnt understand why this was any different. But you sighed again at the recurring image of your ill father.

Once you opened the door, you threw the keys into the bowl beside the entrance, the jingle and crashing making you wince at the scurring silence. You could feel Toms presence behind you, hear his breath in and heavily breath outwards again, and you could hear your heartbeat racing faster than electric; you knew that no matter how hard you could try you wouldn't be able to ignore him, or his insanely good looks.

You gave him a brief tour of the apartment; showing him the kitchen and bar, the living room and how to work the controls of the room and of course his bedroom and en-suite, and you wished he would settle in and keep to himself for the most part; but you knew it was wishful thinking.

“Wheres your room then, sweetheart?” He said, his gorgeous frame leaning against the door frame, arms folded and a sly smirk on his face, looking you up and down as you rolled your eyes. You wanted to bite back and tell him to shove it, but you decided it wasn't fair; this was his job after all, and it was only to protect you.

“Down the hall the left, and don't you dare even think about coming in uninvited or without knocking or ill have you fired before you can even blink,” you said, a flirtatious hint somehow ending up in your meant to be threatening sentence, you huffed again and left, feeling his deep brown eyes stare at you as you walk away, locking yourself in your bedroom and falling dramatically on the soft, white silk sheets. 

It felt odd to you, having someone in the house that you can't really treat as a welcomed guest, but not a staff member either; Tom was now a permanent residence in your home, and that would take some getting used too; you now had to be careful around your own home, not wear, do, say anything to risque or harsh, not sing in the shower to your hearts content, go to the toilet with the door open, lay in your underwear on the balcony recliner, all the small things you now couldn't do with Toms company. You decided that this may be a good thing though; there was no doubt in your mind that Tom was attractive, unbearably so, but this meant that you had no control of your action, you will either act like a nervous prick who can't stand up for herself or become a mean, walls up, closed off person with anger issues; really there was no telling what could happen.

But for now, you grabbed your favourite book and changed into your pyjama shorts and a crop top, even though it was around 3pm, and sat on the balcony recliner, to induld]ge oni some much-needed vitamin d.

Tom found it amusing, the way your eyebrows and nose would furrow and scrunch up to read the words on the cream white page, and how he could tell how interesting the book was by the way your facial expressions contorted with each paragraph or so.

He found himself watching you intently, his eyes being drawn to you and your figure; he was stunned that he was going to get paid this huge sum of money every month to look after some rich mans daughter; although he felt guilty that he couldn't stop thinking about how much he wanted to fuck her senseless ever since he saw her.

---

[imyourliquor-youremypoison]

A Girl’s Best Friend (Peter Parker x OC) - Part 6

Synopsis: Diamonds are man’s best friend- or dogs are girls’ best friends, wait… how does the saying go again?

Warnings: Family issues; Peter has a crush and it’s complicated; mention of assault; good dogs; College AU; aged up! characters; TONY STARK IS ALIVE AND WE ALL LIVE IN A HAPPY PLACE CALLED DENIAL

A/N: In this story, Peter has Tom’s dog, Tessa.The dogs in the story play a minor but key role.

Word count: 2.5k

Part 5 <<< >>> Part 7

MASTERLIST

                He couldn’t believe she was once again teasing him, getting a thrill out of his reaction. It was a real skill she had.

“Don’t be so modest, I saw the way you threw the ax, Parker. I don’t know what you’re trying to hide under that baggy sweatshirt of yours, but I admit I’m getting curiouser and curiouser. Makes me wonder how jacked you are under there.”

                Peter’s face went through fifty shades of red in the span of five seconds, and Emmeline was beyond proud of herself for making him blush like that. She did seem to have a certain talent in embarrassing Peter; hopefully he knew it was all in good grace and she didn’t mean ill.

                 She twirled her empty cup between her fingers, smiling wickedly.

“You just love to see me wriggle in my chair when you say something like that,” he accused her.

“I’m not lying, though.” She raised a brow. “Emmeline Gerard only has one word, and it is true.”

                Emmeline Gerard was also a huge flirt and if Peter wasn’t so dense, he would notice it. That was a typical male thing: to not see when a woman was openly hitting on them and then complain that they are always the ones who are expected to take the first step.

“Don’t care.” Peter crossed his arms over his chest – maybe to show off his biceps, maybe to show her he was mad, he wouldn’t admit to either. “I feel objectified all the same.”

“Here, have a cookie, you’ll feel better,” Emmeline enjoined him, pushing the treat towards him. “I didn’t mean it, quit sulking.”

“Oh, so you think I’m fat?” he asked in mock-offense as he grabbed the cookie and bit into it.

                They both laughed and she swatted his shoulder for acting like an idiot.

“I’ll forgive you on one condition,” he started, the laughter dying down as he looked at her, locking his gaze on her and uncrossing his arms.

                Her smile dropped.

“I’m not going to like it, am I?” she asked in a sigh. “Alright, I guess I brought this on myself. What do you wanna know?”

                He wasn’t surprised that she had guessed what it was about. He hadn’t been able to think about anything else since she talked about her parents an hour ago. He just needed to know what went on in her life – Emmeline was so secretive! He was the one with a secret alter ego, yet she acted like she was secretly Batman.

                He began to fidget, brows furrowed as he proceeded to tell her something he rarely ever brought up.

“It’s more of a request, actually. I- euh, I’m an orphan too,” he stated, making her drop her jaw and stop playing with her empty cup. “I understand better than anyone why you don’t like to talk about your parents, biological or adopted. So, I guess what I’m trying to say is that if you ever want to talk to someone… you know, instead of throwing sharp deadly weapons around-“ He smiled a little and she mirrored the expression. They had both sobered up pretty quickly after his opening statement. “You can talk to me.”

                She shrugged.

“I don’t remember much; I wouldn’t know what to say even if I wanted to talk about it. I was so young…” She sighed, eyes not leaving his. “My adoptive parents are the only ones I know, and they are basically strangers to me. What about you? Any luck in that area?”

“I wasn’t really adopted like you think.” Peter chewed on his lip and rubbed his chin. “One day my parents left me in the care of my aunt and uncle, and they just never came back. Plane crash,” he explained. “I can remember them but sometimes I forget what they looked like. It’s scary to think that I could forget them entirely one day.”

“How’s life with your aunt and uncle?” Emmeline pushed him, the eagerness visible in the way she stared wide-eyed, fingers tugging at her sleeve.

“My uncle died when I was in high school, during a robbery gone wrong.” Jesus Christ, it hurt to talk about it, more than he had anticipated, but he could see that his words finally reached her, moved her. They acted like a key unlocking something. She was drinking up his every word. “Life was good with them. Aunt May is the best, and I couldn’t have asked for better parents than them.” He swallowed with difficulty, wondering what kind of parents he had before that fateful plane crash.

                His increasingly dark train of thought was interrupted when he felt a warm hand resting on his closed fist. He looked up again, finding Emmeline’s concerned eyes set on him.

“But enough with the pathetic story of my life.”

                Slowly, he loosened his fist, relaxing under her touch. Emmeline didn’t move her hand, rather she let her fingers slip in his now unstrained fist.

“I’d drink to that if my cup wasn’t empty,” Emmeline chuckled, humorlessly. He watched her mood shift under his eyes, becoming bitter. She sucked in her cheeks and focused on their joined hands. “Did you vote for my father at the last election?”

“… yes,” Peter admitted, feeling it wasn’t the right answer though it was the truth.

“I didn’t. I told him I did, of course. He never even considered I could vote for someone else; it was a given that the family would vote for him.”

“Why didn’t you?” Peter asked in what was barely above a whisper. Her aura exuded rancor.

“I’m not a difficult person, or at least, I don’t think so. I never wished for all the things I have today, all the… the money, the reputation, the social status… It was all so abstract to the little girl I was. I just wanted parents, you know?”

                Peter nodded; he thought he knew where she was going.

“But it wasn’t what I got. I would often cry about it to my friends in the beginning, but quickly got shut down. I found out at an early age that people do not pity the rich, even if it’s a crying little girl who longs for some form of parental love,” she spat out the last part, still resenting the people who had turned their back on her when she needed them. It was Peter’s turn to squeeze her hand. “So, here you go. That’s why I’m such a stuck-up bitch today. No one’s ever told me it was okay to talk about how I feel, until a few months ago.”

“What happened a few months ago?”

                Peter’s entire body had tensed up at this point. He could hear his blood pulsing in his temples and waited for the bomb. He already knew the answer, but it would have been strange not to ask. He was the one who told her to talk to a friend, that someone cared, that someone would listen.

                Emmeline seemed to recompose herself and shook her head a little, letting him go and pushing away her cup, clearing her throat. When she looked up, the dark clouds in her eyes had dissipated.

“You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you,” she said with a forced laugh, turning her attention to the window. “I hadn’t realized it was already dark outside, I should get going. Bella’s waiting for me.”

“Do you want me to walk you home?” he asked, accepting that this was as much information he would get for today and thinking about nothing but the night he found her being pressed against a wall, blouse ripped open, a man with a hand down his pants all over her.

                He saw the hesitation cross her face, but she must have had the same thought as him; she stood up and grabbed her coat before looking at him.

“Yes, please.”

  *

                  That night Peter broke one of his own new rules and stopped by her place on his way back from a mission. He couldn’t help it, as much as he had tried.

                When he knocked on the window, Bella immediately began to jump excitedly, pawing at the glass and barking. It must have been double glazing because he barely heard a thing at all. Emmeline soon walked into the living room, toothbrush in her mouth, raising her arms in a “what the fuck man” gesture. At least, that was how Peter interpreted it.

                She walked back where she came from, and reappeared a minute later, with no more toothbrush.

“Thought you wouldn’t come here again,” she said as a way of greeting him when she opened the French window, letting Bella out to greet him properly.

“At least someone’s happy to see me,” he said, narrowing his eyes at her as he sat down to play with her dog. “I totally just came to see Bella by the way, you can go back inside.”

                Emmeline wasn’t amused and she let him know.

“Alright, alright. I just wanted to see how far along you were this that deal of ours,” he told her, raising both hands in surrender.

“How-“ she made a helpless hand gesture. “How do you know? How can you possibly know that I finally talked to someone today? Who the fuck are you?”

“Ugh, language, young lady,” he giggled, standing up to talk to her at eye-level. “Let’s say I have a spider sense that tells me those things.”

“This is very weird.”

“How is it any weirder than feminine intuition? I’m listening.”

“Half the human population has it,” she stated, point blank. “It’s a real thing, unlike your… spidey- tingle.”

“Spider sense,” he corrected her.

“Same difference.”

“You are being very difficult tonight. I thought you’d be in a lighter mood now that you unburdened yourself a little bit,” he whined, pointing a finger at her. Emmeline didn’t give two shits that he was Spider-Man, she swatted his accusing finger away and took a step forward.

“Tone it down a notch, Spidey-boy,” she warned him. “I held my end of the bargain, now I get to be in whatever mood I want.”

“It wasn’t a bargain; I didn’t promise anything in exchange.”

“Well then I want something.” She planted her feet firmly on the ground, and her hands on her hips.

                Peter sighed, regretting this impromptu visit already, though he couldn’t deny he loved their superhero and civilian banter. The way she stood up to him would have made him shrivel away a few years back, but he was glad he had grown out of his awkward teenager phase and could stand up for himself now.

                Though the awkward teenage still showed once every now and then, most of the time when she said something saucy.

“I’m not swinging you around New York,” he warned her. “Last time I did that, the girl got sick.”

“That’s not what I want,” Emmeline scoffed, waving her hand to dismiss his idea. “Who would ask for that anyway? We’re in December, my nose would freeze and fall off.”

“Alright, name your price then, princess.”

“Do not start using pet names, or I will wipe the floor with your ass, Spidey-boy.” For a second, he thought she just might. “Just promise make sure that what happened to me doesn’t happen to another girl, yeah? That’s my price.”

                Peter wasn’t expecting this request, but he nodded without thinking about it. It was a given.

“I will.”

“Good. Now fuck off of my balcony. I was going to bed,” she shooed him away, like you did to a stray cat.

“You’re so mean to me!”

“It’s tough love, baby!” She laughed and waved him goodbye through the window, waiting until he left, and Bella strutted back inside to close the door. “He’s a bit strange for a superhero, don’t you think?”

  *

                  Emmeline never talked about Spider-Man to Peter, but he could still see the way their late-night chats affected her moods. She was often less grumpy when he visited her. It made him feel terrible because they were both becoming dependent on his visits, and as odd as it might sound, Peter was jealous of his alter ego. Jealous because Emmeline seemed to like Spider-Man better than Peter Parker.

                But Emmeline didn’t sit next to Spider-Man in class, she sat next to Peter, and for that he was infinitely grateful. She was better than him in physics anyway, it was a nice change from always being the nerdy one. Then again, when you’re a biophysics post-grad, the chances of you being the only nerd in the room were very slim.

“Will you be my partner?” she asked him, bursting his little bubble of silent contemplation. He hadn’t realized he had zoned out in the middle of class until she spoke up.

“Uh?” was all he was capable of answering.

“The assignment. We should do it together, partner-up,” she clarified. “You weren’t listening, were you?”

                Peter flinched and grimaced a little, rubbing the back of his neck.

“No?”

“You’ve being doing that a lot lately. Don’t you sleep at night?”

                Not as much as I’d like, he thought. Somehow, when he wasn’t visiting her as Spider-Man, it was because he was hanging out with her as Peter Parker, and the rest of the time he spent on Spider duty. He knew he was heading towards burn out, but he couldn’t hit the breaks either.

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead,” he replied in a failed attempt to sound cool. She narrowed her eyes at him. “But I’ll do the assignment with you, sure. I’ll need your notes though, I have some catching up to do.”

“Not a problem.” She pulled out her agenda to scribble something down. “Since you were daydreaming again, let me recap for you: the assignment is due January 8th, jot that down. I’ll bring my notes this Thursday when we meet at the library, is that okay?”

“You’re the best,” Peter told her with a crooked smile that was meant to be charming. Emmeline rolled her eyes.

“Don’t tell anyone, I have a reputation.”

“When should we start working then?” he asked, changing the subject. Another thing he noticed: she didn’t like compliments.

“We can start tonight if you want. You won’t need my notes to decide on a topic and get started,” she suggested. “My place, 7p.m.?”

                A resounding alarm began to pound in Peter’s head, reminding him that one meeting with her dog would give him away on the spot.

“Didn’t you say Bella doesn’t like strangers?” he questioned, trying to find a way out of this. “We won’t get much done if she’s busy barking up at me.”

“She’s not home at the moment. She must have eaten something bad because she kept vomiting and whining. I brought her to the vet, she’ll be back at the end of the week.”

                Peter knew how much she loved Bella, and the pitiful sigh she let out at the end of her explanation constricted his heart. There he was, trying to dodge out of a study session with the girl he liked to preserve his secret identity, while she was lonely in her huge apartment because her beloved four-legged companion was sick.

“I’m sorry. I’m sure she’ll be alright.” She nodded and forced a smile. “And tonight works fine for me.”

“Bring Tessa, I haven’t seen her in a week.”

.

.

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Reblog to save a writer

Taglist: @of-virtuoso

[allisondraste]

Temperance (1/?)

I am pleased to introduce something that I have been plotting for weeks now!  Pairing: Nathaniel Howe/Female, Non-HoF Cousland Story Summary:  Nathaniel and Elissa were childhood friends, but time and distance tore them apart. In the aftermath of the Fifth Blight, and Ferelden's Civil War, both Elissa and Nathaniel must attempt reconstruct their tattered lives. As a series of events lead them to be reunited, both are reminded of so many years ago when things were much simpler.

Chapter Summary: Nathaniel’s return to Vigil’s Keep is more than a rude awakening.   

[AO3 LINK]

Vigil's Keep, 9:31 Dragon

The stone floor was cold and hard, unforgiving as the heavy iron bars that held him captive.  Grey Warden guards paced about, armored boots clanking against the floor, metal plates scraping together, as the men and women occasionally paused to glare at him judgmentally.  They talked about him as if he were not there, calling him a wide array of offensive names. What a lucky bastard he was for being safe and sound in his prison cell while better men than he fell to darkspawn blades and bows outside!  He should be thankful for his imprisonment, and for the fact that he was not strung up the moment he was caught. How wonderful his captors were for allowing him to freeze his arse off in his own family’s dungeons for “stealing” things that were his by right! It was so ironic it was painful.

The son of the late Arl Howe, and squire under a trained chevalier in Starkhaven, Nathaniel was not accustomed to being treated as common rabble and especially not a criminal.  When word of his father’s death at the hands of the Grey Wardens had reached him in the Free Marches, it had not occurred to him that he would return home to find his father’s murderers rewarded by Queen Anora herself.  He had spent an entire month in hiding, plotting the assassination of the Warden-Commander, who he held entirely responsible for his current misery.

Nathaniel tugged at the collar of his shirt, reaching in to pull out a small golden ring that he wore on a chain around his neck.  It had been a gift from his sister when they were children, and even then the band had been too tiny for his fingers. It was the only thing he had left of his family, and the only reason he had failed to follow through with his plan.  When he arrived in Amaranthine to lay his trap, he remembered Delilah and how she would never approve of such violent and brash behavior. He resigned himself to retrieving a few of his family’s things: heirlooms, letters, small sentimental things that the Wardens would have no use for at all.  Unfortunately, he was caught and slammed in the dungeon where he sat as Vigil��s Keep was ambushed by darkspawn.

There was a small commotion as the sound of a door opening at the top of the stairs echoed through the dungeon.  Nathaniel’s guards clambered to stand at attention, backs straight and arms at their sides. This was obviously not a routine change of guards or visit from their captain.  No, Nathaniel assumed that it was time for his sentencing. At last, he would get to meet the person who murdered his father and destroyed his family face to face.

The woman who appeared in the doorway before him and to whom the guards saluted was not what he had pictured.  For as grand a title as “Warden-Commander” and “Hero of Ferelden,” she was small, unimposing, and incredibly young.  She could have been more than nineteen or twenty, with piercing blue eyes that appeared much kinder than the dark brows furrowed above them suggested.  

“Good thing you’re here, Commander,”  one of the guards said before explaining the situation, repeating the same things he had been saying every time a new one of the Warden officers came to gawk at and interrogate him.  Nathaniel had refused to give his name or any other information to anyone other than the Warden-Commander. With his family’s reputation as it was, the notion that he may be subjected to further scrutiny was unappealing.  He thought it better to wait until closer to his execution to tell anyone who he was.

“Leave me to speak with him, please,” she commanded, her voice gentle yet decisive.  The guards saluted again and exited the dungeon, leaving Nathaniel alone with her.

“I can’t say you are what I expected in the great ‘Hero of Ferelden’” he remarked snidely, not caring to feign respect.

“I am not what anyone expected, but I am what they got,” she answered matter-of-factly “I see my reputation precedes me.”

“It does.” He paused briefly. “Though I care little for your titles.  I know you as the one who murdered my father.”

“Your father?” Her brows pressed together more deeply as a concerned expression crossed her face.

“Of course you wouldn’t remember my father. It was a war after all, and he was just another casualty.”  Nathaniel’s fists balled at his sides as he felt the anger tighten like a vice in his chest. “But why should my whole family have to suffer?”

“I - Um..,” the Warden-Commander shifted uncomfortably where she stood, bringing her arms up to her chest and crossing them, “Who are you?”

“I am Nathaniel Howe, and these are my family’s lands -  or at least they were until you showed up.”

“You are Rendon Howe’s son, then.”  She seemed to think for a moment before opening her mouth to speak again.  “Your father was a traitor.”

“My father,” he spat, ”Served the Hero of River Dane and fought against the Orlesian occupation.  He was a hero, and now because of a horde of darkspawn, a petty civil war, and you my family has nothing.”

Nathaniel quieted, looking down at the stone floor that had been his constant companion for the past three days.  He knew that his father was an ill-tempered, difficult man for whom many in the arling and even the landsmeet held no love.  He knew his father was capable of rashness and poor choices. He may have been a traitor, but Nathaniel was certain that he did so because he believed it was the right thing to do. He always did what he thought was best, even if it was painful.

Nathaniel looked up to meet the Warden-Commander’s gaze again.  “I came here to - I thought I was going to kill you, but then I realized all I wanted was to reclaim some of my family’s things.  It is all I have left.” The words left a bitter taste in his mouth

“I’m sorry,” the Warden-Commander said softly, “You do not belong in this cell.”

“I- What? ” Her words caught him off guard.  He was prepared for a public hanging, not an apology. “I just told you that I want you dead.”

“I heard you.”  She moved to unlock the door to his cell.  “I think I would want someone to blame, too.  I’m not that person, but I understand why you would think so.”

“You’re just letting me go?”  Nathaniel remained in the cell despite the door being open.

“Not quite.  I understand you were difficult to apprehend.”

“I am not without skills,” Nathaniel answered, uncertain where this conversation could possibly lead, “My time spent abroad was not chasing skirts and drinking wine.”

“Then it is lucky for you that the Wardens are not currently in need of a skirt-chaser.” “Pardon?” “I am conscripting you.”  It was another matter-of-fact answer from the woman, as if her reasoning was clear as day, despite the fact that it made no sense.

“No. I refuse,”  Nathaniel protested, indignant, “I would rather die.”

“You might die, anyway.  The Joining often claims the lives of our recruits,” she explained, “But I am not foolish enough to believe that every Howe is the same, and I do not wish you hanged for no reason.  Don’t you want a chance to start over? To bring some honor back to your family?” “I.. don’t know.” For a brief moment he allowed the anger and bitterness to fizzle away, truly considering the offer before he spoke  “I might try to kill you again. Do you like having Wardens who want you dead?”

The Warden-Commander smirked, dropping her hands to her sides. “We have been alone in this dungeon for a while now.  I am unarmed and I just let you out of your cell.” She motioned to the door with her hand. “If you really wanted to kill me, and if you are as skilled as my men tell me you are, you would have done so already.”

“A bold assumption,” Nathaniel remarked dryly, though he knew that she was right.  It was easy to fantasize about getting revenge on the big bad Grey Warden who killed his father and invaded his home.  It was much harder to stand across from a young woman who offered him mercy and feel the same. She was a person just as he was and just as his father was.  It was possible that she, too, could have done no more than what she believed was necessary. The Warden-Commander offered him the benefit of the doubt, and he felt obliged to give her the same courtesy, as much as he resented it.

“I’ll do it,” he asserted, with a nod of the head, even as his stomach churned.  

“Good, I’ll get Seneschal Varel, and we can start the ritual as soon as he is able.”

It was not long before the Warden-Commander returned and escorted Nathaniel to the throne room, where the Seneschal  stood by the fire pit holding a large silver chalice. Several other wardens who he had not seen yet lined the hall as well, eyeing him with what appeared to be a mixture of suspicion and concern.  It was more than a little unnerving.

Nathaniel walked forward to stand by one other recruit, his features sharpened by the light of the shadows. The Seneschal began by explaining the purpose of the Joining.  The ritual was held to induct new members into the ranks of the Warden Order, and it required that recruits drink of darkspawn and archdemon blood enchanted with lyrium. It was the source of the Wardens’ power and immunity to the Taint, but it was also their demise if they were not strong enough to withstand the corruption.  In the end, it would kill him anyway.

The Wardens in the hall began to speak in unison. “Join us brothers and sisters.  Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry our duty that cannot be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten, and that one day we will join you.”

“Ser Brendon, please step forward,” the Seneschal said and a young Templar approached, taking the chalice into his hands, “From this day forth, you are a Grey Warden.”

The Templar drank from the chalice and returned it to the Seneschal.  For a moment, the hall stood in silence, watching and waiting to see if the man would survive.  Suddenly, he fell forward clutching at his throat and gasping for air. The Wardens in the hall watched on, some of them bowing their heads sorrowfully as Ser Brendon stilled, lifeless on the floor.  The Warden-Commander offered her apologies to the now-dead Templar and turned her gaze to Nathaniel.

“Nathaniel Howe, please step forward,” The Seneschal announced, his voice hoarse at the loss of the other recruit.  Nathaniel inhaled sharply, attempting to calm his nerves, and took hold of the chalice. It was the moment of truth - would he die as the other recruit, his punishment for theft finalized?  Or would he live, and have the chance to be a Howe that history may be proud of once again? He did not realize how badly he wished for the latter until he drew the chalice to his lips, taking a small drink of the thick, dark liquid.

The last thing Nathaniel heard before his consciousness faded, were the Seneschal’s words, sounding if they were shouted across a great distance.

“From this day forth, Nathaniel, you are a Grey Warden.”

[johnny2071]

F is for Family - Bill’s Letter and Apology (Deconstructed)

Bill running away and finally calling out his parents is a major turning point in his character arc, and hopefully, the entire family. In these connected scenes, there's a lot of deep contexts, and I will be analyzing each of them. If anyone here has ever watched Mystery Science Theater 3000, Rifftrax, or any Channel Awesome reviews, you should understand what I'm doing here. Pay close attention to everything written in parenthesis within the transcript, as I will explain each note at the end. Bill's Letter: ----------------- Dear Mom and Dad, By the time you find this note, I will be long gone because I'm running away. Dad, I'm sure you won't care too much being that I'm such a big disappointment to you and I'm always bothering you with my problems. And I know you think I'm a pussy. My reasons for saying this are A, I heard you say it to Mom (Bill was there during the bedroom argument). In conclusion, I'm sure you will all be better off without me (Bill has been burned or neglected by all four members of the family). Mom, I'll remember to brush my teeth (No ill will?). Maureen, even though I'll be gone forever, you still can't have my room (Bill's less-than-kind sister has been moved into his bedroom space). And Kevin, you were doing something (Bill is that turned off by his masturbating, followed by his usual excuse). Sincerely yours, Bill. P. S. Watch out for Phillip (Who has a murderous mind and has gone ballistic twice). Bill's Calls Out His Parents & Rescue: ----------------- Frank: Bill, we're here! Daddy's gonna save you! Bill: Go to hell! (Bill strikes!) Frank: What the fuck did you just say to me? Bill: I'm fucking mad at you! You don't care about me, Dad! You never cared about me! You didn't take me to hockey tryouts because your stupid fat boss was eating chocolate in your truck. Pogo: (*"Now, there comes a point where a reasonable man will swallow his pride and admit that he's made a terrible mistake. The truth is, I was never a reasonable man"*) A Puerto Rican forced me to do that! (Pogo proves that he's not a reasonable man to own up to his mistakes) Bill: All you ever do is yell at me and call me a pussy. A guy exploded in front of me and you told me to shove it down. And when I needed you today, you told me, "Not now." Well how about now, Dad? (Bill has called out his old man) Frank: Jesus Christ, he's right. Son. I'm I'm sorry. I have been a terrible father lately. (Frank finally gets it, ….for now) Sue: Your father is very sorry, Bill. (Latching onto someone else's apology like a captain's parrot) Bill: I'm mad at you too, Mom! (You ain't off the hook, honey!) Sue: What? (MGS alert sfx) Bill: You spent all your time with that stupid scissor-spoon that I cut my fingers on! (Bill clearly holding back for some reason) Sue: (*cue Shopping Jaunt music*) It was called the Forkoontula, and it's still in the development stages, but you're right. It's just this new baby coming really threw us for a loop and then we got all wrapped up with the new neighbors. (How to construct an legitimate excuse over an apology to a very upset 11-year old boy) Mrs. Vanderheim: Well, I guess I ain't such a bad mother after all. [BLOWJOB] (Crass humor fodder insert) Sue: But that's all over now. (What's over? The pregnancy? The dead/arrested neighbors? The Forkoontula? The abuse?) Frank: And we're sorry. (Frank either hijacks Sue's "apology" for more .temp glory, or spares her the burden of responsibility) I told myself I'd be a better father than my own dad, and that starts now. You kids mean…. you mean a lot to me. I love you people. Just please come on home. We'll talk about it. (Which is either forgotten, or a discussion is had among the parents, while the children are elsewhere having zero-input) Bill: Can I have my old room back to myself? (A wish off the top of his head) Sue: Of course! Frank: Jesus, Sue, the house is a fucking mess! Sue: Frank! Frank: Sure. Your own room again. (Wish granted) Bill: I just want to go home. (Bill is back) Epilogue: ----------------- Frank: Well, I know things got a little crazy this summer. But now your mom and I, we got our priorities straight. Sue: Our most important job is being your parents. And I swear to you, we'll never forget that again. (Good luck with Frank's jerk father and your pregnancy still a thing) Notes: -Bill was there during the bedroom argument - Bill's parents knowing this is important, because the last time he mentioned this, the entire matter was preempted in favor of Major going missing. It should also tell them that he fully knows about their sex act right afterwards, and raise the question of why was Bill underneath the bed in the first place and not in school? He was suspended that day. Why was he suspended? He got into a fight with Jimmy Fitzsimmons. Why did he get into a fight? Fitzsimmons harassed him on Halloween night, when he was left home alone. -Bill has been burned or neglected by all four members of the family - Frank has been abrasive towards him, like every else he screams at. Maureen has zero-respect for him, blackmailed him, and was the first one to push him over the edge. Even Kevin (who isn't the friendliest guy) has begun to sour towards Bill as early as Season 2. And Sue, the one person you think would be closer to Bill (unlike of rest of Frank's personal juniors, Boy-Frank and Girl-Frank), has been nothing but hostile towards him in the rare moments they actually interact, for next to nothing. -No ill will? - After the way Sue has been hostile towards Bill, including this season, all the Bill has to say is that he ensures her of proper hygiene, a response so generic, he has nothing notable to say specifically to her in his goodbye letter. -Bill's less-than-kind sister has been moved into his bedroom space - After the way Maureen has treated him in the past, Bill is not fond of sharing his bedroom space with her, or giving her the satisfaction of ownership of his room. -Bill is that turned off by his masturbating, followed by his usual excuse - Given Kevin's boy-ish nature and questionable means of pleasure, and the fact that Bill's mind hasn't sexually matured yet (since he's barely in double digits), close encounters with sex-related matters make him squick very hard. In short, Bill is disgusted by Kevin for this. -Who has a murderous mind and has gone ballistic twice - Bill has already seen Phillip's kill book, depicted horrible acts of torture and murder to anyone who upsets him. Phillip himself has also flipped out at Bill for so much as liking a girl. Not to mention Phillip completely losing it on the Hobo Jojo Show. -Bill strikes! - After all the abuse both his family and the outside world has finally put him through, Bill finally lashes out at his father, all while hanging on for dear life. Frank and Sue finally come face-to-face with Bill's rage, something that's been long overdue since episode 5. -Pogo proves that he's not a reasonable man to own up to his mistakes - A reference from a quote from Big Fish. This was originally meant for Frank, except he does just that. Sue is a good alternative, but not only would the quote not make sense out of context, but Sue actually dances around this. Naturally, Pogo has been as much (if not more) of an asshole as Frank. I got the whole quote idea from a YouTuber's video. -Bill has called out his old man - In this season alone, Frank has been horribly dismissive towards all three of his children, especially when they needed his attention/any helpful advice the most. Here, Bill actually succeeds in calling Frank out on just that. -Frank finally gets it, ….for now - Frank, who's been extremely close-minded of anything his children say, actually has his mind opened by Bill, and is nearly left speechless. For the first time ever, Frank sincerely apologizes the Bill for being a bad father. However, this Frank we're talking about. Believe it or not, this isn't the first time Frank has made a passionate speech or apology. In fact, he has done this for each season final up to this point. By now, you would think that he would've because a better person by now. However, this show brands itself on bitterness and misery, and unfortunately, gets nothing but praise for it. In order for the show to keep its bitterness, Frank has to remain an over-the-top salty, powder keg, jerkass. Based on what resonates with this show's audience, it's Frank's defining trait, down to his threatening catchphrase, which is used towards the people he spends most of his interaction with: his children. Based on this and his track record of resetting back to default each season, it seems impossible and and out of character for Frank to change, much like Bojack Horseman (a character who actually tries to change, despite many characters in that show closing their doors on him). -Latching onto someone else's apology like a captain's parrot - Rather than apologize herself for her own mistakes, Sue decides to chime in and repeat back to Bill what Frank had just said, like a parrot or a one-dimensional yes man. -You ain't off the hook, honey! - It's good to know that Bill has resentment towards his mother as well, considering that she was actually worse to him than Frank was, even though the show tries to pretend that these moments never happened, yet throw off people (especially those hoping for better) by giving us more when we least expect it (or when scenario do not call for it at the slightest). You can tell that Bill (despite his situation and limited rage) is using this opportunity as his best bet to call BOTH parents out (since he's been a victim of bad timing and has run out of steam before he can get started, leaving him vulnerable). -MGS alert sfx - A sound effect from Metal Gear Solid that should've played alongside Sue's ridiculous reaction. what's baffling here is the fact that she's that shocked that Bill is angry at her, as if she's done nothing wrong to him, as if she's been nothing but kind to him, as if one of her children holding hostility towards her is such an outrageous out-of-the-left-field concept. It just sounds so fake coming from her, almost as cartoonish as The Simpsons, in a show trying to be as dark and real as possible. -Bill clearly holding back for some reason - Out of all the things Sue has said and done to Bill up to this point, THIS is the thing Bill decides to call out on. It's almost as Bill had a brief flashback of all the Sue-Bill moments and intentionally held back, by only referencing the most immediate she's done during the summer, or at this point, he's literally running out of steam and doesn't have enough stamina and anger to call her out on everything else (like he did with Frank). He isn't WRONG about all her time going into the Forkoontula, and the invention DID amplify Sue's ugly side. However, Bill was unintentionally spared from any instances of Sue's wrath pertaining to the Forkoontula. The only who wasn't so lucky and got the cold shoulder/venom is Maureen. "The Stinger" and "Punch Drunk" are prime examples. -*Cue Shopping Jaunt music*/How to construct an legitimate excuse over an apology to a very upset 11-year old boy - Shopping Jaunt is a public domain stock music piece often associated with assembly line production sequences. This is a reference to Sue/Laura Dern's lack of sincere emotion and patronizing/near-robotic delivery in her line. It's the equivalent of a someone making an announcement over an intercom in a professional environment, as opposed to a mother deeply apologizing to her son. Hell, she doesn't say "I'm sorry" to the the boy, not even once. Instead, she just brings up the news of the baby, as well as the new neighbors as the cause of their problems. The baffling thing is, it's not like Sue/Laura isn't capable of delivering a sincere apologetic tone. She did in episode 4 of this season after she learns the truth of what the other wives though of her invention, and actually apologizes to Marie for yelling at her. -Crass humor fodder insert - Did we really need this? This is supposed to be an emotional moment where the family finally sees first hand how upset Bill truly is, and finally gets his dues. But the impact is muddled by an insert scene of yet another crude one-note, one-dimensional, one-timer character taking up already limited screentime (given Bill's situation, how late in the season it is, and how late in the act it is). -What's over? The pregnancy? The dead/arrested neighbors? The Forkoontula? The abuse? - In a show like this that tries to stay faithful to its branding and reputation its built up, what exactly does Sue even mean by that? Last time we checked, Sue's still pregnant, and they only have a few months left. Will she decide NOT to have a fourth child and get an abortion, even this late? If she's referring to the new neighbors, of course that's over, since Nguyen-Nguyen poisoned Chet and got arrested. Will Sue finally give up on the Forkoontula (and future inventions), considering how it's bought out the worst in her and caused problems or everyone else, and focus on improving as a person and communicating with her children (which brings us to the "end of abuse" factor)? -Frank either hijacks Sue's "apology" for more .temp glory, or spares her the burden of responsibility - We've seen Frank constantly attempt to make up for his recent mistakes enough times already (spoiler alert: Someone like him, especially in this show, can never change). Why not have Sue be a person for once and own up to her mistakes. Just one apology to her children (in this case, Bill, and to a further extent, Maureen). "Sue: And I'm very sorry, Bill, for the horrible way I've acted as a mother." Is that honestly too good for Bill, or the viewers? We get it. Frank is the main character, but when you have a character like Sue act that scary and hostile towards the ones that don't deserve it, they have to take responsibility for their actions and amend for it so they can be sympathetic/likeable again, especially if they're part of the main cast: the family. -Which is either forgotten, or a discussion is had among the parents, while the children are elsewhere having zero-input - The phrase "we'll talk about it/we'll talk about this later" has been used very loosely in this series, with almost no promise, delivery, or payoff behind it. In the Murphy family, do they even HAVE family discussions? Do they actually talk with the children, instead of just barking orders and threats? Do Frank and Sue actually care about their opinions and how they feel, or just how they APPEAR to feel? At this point, I wouldn't be surprised if they didn't "talk about it" at all, especially after five months of dead silence after the events of season 2, only for similar mistakes to return and get as bad as they did in this season. -A wish off the top of his head - Bill sees that his parents are desperately pleading for his return, so he uses this opportunity to ask them for anything as a reason to come home. But considering who his parents are, Bill simply asks for the first thing he can think of in reason. -Wish granted/Bill is back - With this request granted, Bill is ready to return home, and his resentment towards his family has faded. With that said, is this the end of Bill's character arc? Will Frank and (mainly) Sue get along better with him, and the rest of their children? -Good luck with Frank's jerk father and your pregnancy still a thing - Despite Sue's promise to never forget that "being their parents is their most important job", there's still the matter of Sue's pregnancy, and all the hormones that make an already volatile person worse. Also, the introduction of Frank's jerkass father, who will have no problem driving everyone in the house crazy with his baggage (based on Frank's experiences with the man). And even without those glaring issues, what exactly does Sue mean by that? More work specifically for Frank (the least-suited man for the job)? Or does it mean simply mean paying more attention to their kids, but without improving communication/reasoning with them, and being more hostile towards them, over the slightest infraction at the wrong time/mood? In conclusion, I was initially ecstatic over S3E10 (since it was the closest we were going to get to a true happy ending, especially after all the crap that went down in season 2), but after I did more research (since I actually didn't sit through this season and skipped to a transcript of the season finale) and learned about everything else that happened, I learned that this ending wasn't enough to make up for it.

[thedarkivist]

I’m just saying that you can very slightly modify big parts of Pride and Prejudice and it reads like proper, honest-to-goodness wrightworth. Case in point:

“In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.” 

Phoenix’ astonishment was beyond expression. He stared, coloured, doubted, and was silent. This Edgeworth considered sufficient encouragement; and the avowal of all that he felt, and had long felt for him, immediately followed. He spoke well; but there were feelings besides those of the heart to be detailed; and he was not more eloquent on the subject of tenderness than of pride. His sense of Phoenix’ inferiority—of its being a degradation—of the professional obstacles which had always opposed to inclination, were dwelt on with a warmth which seemed due to the consequence he was wounding, but was very unlikely to recommend his suit.

In spite of Wright’s deeply-rooted dislike, he could not be insensible to the compliment of such a man's affection, and though his intentions did not vary for an instant, he was at first sorry for the pain his suitor was to receive; till, roused to resentment by his subsequent language, he lost all compassion in anger. He tried, however, to compose himself to answer him with patience, when he should have done. The prosecutor concluded with representing to him the strength of that attachment which, in spite of all his endeavours, he had found impossible to conquer; and with expressing his hope that it would now be rewarded by the acceptance of his hand. As he said this, Phoenix could easily see that he had no doubt of a favourable answer. He spoke of apprehension and anxiety, but his countenance expressed real security. 

Such a circumstance could only exasperate farther, and, when he ceased, the colour rose into Phoenix’ cheeks, and he said:“In such cases as this, it is, I believe, the established mode to express a sense of obligation for the sentiments avowed, however unequally they may be returned. It is natural that obligation should be felt, and if I could feel gratitude, I would now thank you. But I cannot—I have never desired your good opinion, and you have certainly bestowed it most unwillingly. I am sorry to have occasioned pain to anyone. It has been most unconsciously done, however, and I hope will be of short duration. The feelings which, you tell me, have long prevented the acknowledgment of your regard, can have little difficulty in overcoming it after this explanation.”

Edgeworth, who was leaning against the mantelpiece with his eyes fixed on Phoenix’ face, seemed to catch his words with no less resentment than surprise. His complexion became pale with anger, and the disturbance of his mind was visible in every feature. He was struggling for the appearance of composure, and would not open his lips till he believed himself to have attained it. The pause was to Phoenix’ feelings dreadful. At length, with a voice of forced calmness, he said: “And this is all the reply which I am to have the honour of expecting! I might, perhaps, wish to be informed why, with so little endeavour at civility, I am thus rejected. But it is of small importance.”

“I might as well inquire,” replied Wright, “why with so evident a desire of offending and insulting me, you chose to tell me that you liked me against your will, against your reason, and even against your character? Was not this some excuse for incivility, if I was uncivil? But I have other provocations. You know I have. Had not my feelings decided against you—had they been indifferent, or had they even been favourable, do you think that any consideration would tempt me to accept the man who has been the means of ruining, perhaps for ever, the happiness of miss Fey’s most beloved sister?”

As he pronounced these words, Mr. Edgeworth changed colour; but the emotion was short, and he listened without attempting to interrupt while Phoenix continued: “I have every reason in the world to think ill of you. No motive can excuse the unjust and ungenerous part you acted there. You dare not, you cannot deny, that you have been the principal, if not the only means of imposing the death sentence on miss Fey—of exposing her to the caprice and the instability of the world, causing her misery of the acutest kind.” He paused, and saw with no slight indignation that Edgeworth was listening with an air which proved him wholly unmoved by any feeling of remorse. He even looked at him with a smile of affected incredulity. “Can you deny that you have done it?” Phoenix repeated. 

With assumed tranquillity Miles then replied: “I have no wish of denying that I did everything in my power to prove miss Maya Fey’s guilt. Towards her I have been kinder than towards myself.”

Phoenix disdained the appearance of noticing this civil reflection, but its meaning did not escape, nor was it likely to conciliate him. “But it is not merely this affair,” he continued, “on which my dislike is founded. Long before it had taken place my opinion of you was decided. Your character was unfolded many months ago, when the news of your tampering with the evidence became common knowledge. On this subject, what can you have to say? In what imaginary act of justice can you here defend yourself? or under what misrepresentation can you here impose upon others?” 

“You take an eager interest in the concerns of the prosecutor’s office,” said Edgeworth, in a less tranquil tone, and with a heightened colour. 

“Who that knows of this injustice can help but feel interest?” 

“Injustice!” repeated Edgeworth contemptuously; “yes, great injustice has been committed, indeed.” 

“And of your infliction,” cried Phoenix with energy. “You have reduced the court system to its present state. You have withheld the advantages which you must know to have been designed for it. You have deprived the world of that justice we are due to protect. You have done all this! and yet you can treat the mention of this misfortune with contempt and ridicule.” 

“And this,” cried Miles, as he walked with quick steps across the room, “is your opinion of me! This is the estimation in which you hold me! I thank you for explaining it so fully. My faults, according to this calculation, are heavy indeed! But perhaps,” added he, stopping in his walk, and turning towards Phoenix, “these offenses might have been overlooked, had not your pride been hurt by my honest confession of the scruples that had long prevented my forming any serious design. These bitter accusations might have been suppressed, had I, with greater policy, concealed my struggles, and flattered you into the belief of my being impelled by unqualified, unalloyed inclination; by reason, by reflection, by everything. But disguise of every sort is my abhorrence. Nor am I ashamed of the feelings I related. They were natural and just. Could you expect me to rejoice in the inferiority of your professionalism?—to congratulate myself on the hope of relations, whose condition in life is so decidedly beneath my own?” 

Phoenix felt himself growing more angry every moment; yet he tried to the utmost to speak with composure when he said: “You are mistaken, Mr. Edgeworth, if you suppose that the mode of your declaration affected me in any other way, than as it spared me the concern which I might have felt in refusing you, had you behaved in a more gentlemanlike manner.” 

He saw Miles start at this, but he said nothing, and Wright continued: “You could not have made the offer of your hand in any possible way that would have tempted me to accept it.” Again his astonishment was obvious; and he looked at Phoenix with an expression of mingled incredulity and mortification. Wright went on:“From the very beginning—from the first moment, I may almost say—of my re-acquaintance with you, your manners, impressing me with the fullest belief of your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain of the feelings of others, were such as to form the groundwork of disapprobation on which succeeding events have built so immovable a dislike; and I had not known you a month before I felt that you were the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry.” 

“You have said quite enough, sir. I perfectly comprehend your feelings, and have now only to be ashamed of what my own have been. Forgive me for having taken up so much of your time, and accept my best wishes for your health and happiness.”

[classicalafros67]

On Why I Refuse to Talk to My Grandmother

This is not meant to be educational. This is not meant to slander my grandmother. This is only meant to be therapeutic – a way to organize my thoughts and release my emotions in a healthy way. I want to note, before I begin, that I am talking to my grandmother, but only out of necessity, for logistical and business reasons, until we come up with a recompense or I have to cut her out of my life altogether. I’m not even sure that I am going to share this, but I still wanted to write it, so maybe for a time, my anger, bitterness and disappointment can be placed elsewhere.

Recently, I wrote this piece, didn’t really share, but I didn’t finish it either on an example of how my grandmother has treated me and continues to treats me.

“I feel like I’m a pretty outspoken person when it comes to talking about gender expression, sexuality, gender, feminism and activism, EXCEPT when it comes to my family. Living all as a queer and gender non-conforming African-American, living with ones (loosely) religious, judgmental and controlling family members is anything but easy. In fact, it’s fucking hard as hell, and I’m pretty sure it’s the base of all of my mental illnesses. I’ve grown up to be silent and speak when spoken to. I believe that my guardian (grandmother) believes that she must rule with an iron fist and control and repair me at any cost, so I can be properly digestible for society. As I’ve grown older, I’ve begun to heavily resent her as these repairs and plays for control are disguised as concern and unconditional love. Recently, it has gotten pretty rough between us. I resent having to go home, so I go out as often as possible either spending the night with my friends or my boyfriend in the city.

One of her plans to repair me (and by repair, I mean “masc me up”) was foiled this week when I spent most of it in the city with my boyfriend in order to get away from her. The car that we are currently sharing got a majorly avoidable flat tire. I agreed to help pay for a new tire, but she wanted me to watch the tire get changed?? I could always google, but, hey, what do I know I guess? So, like always, she got upset that I had not come home, (mind you, I am 22 years old, recently graduated from college, and working multiple jobs to move out of there) and had started calling up a storm and MARKING all of the locations I was at. (She forced me to get this app on my phone where she can track me. Again, I am 22 years old.) I eventually went home because she was holding the car hostage and refusing to get it fixed until I came back, knowing that I needed it to get to work.

She tells me that we need to talk, but every time I attempt to talk to her about anything heavy, my sexuality, how I express myself, gender expression, ect., it turns into her talking at me and justifying, for herself, how she feels and why she acts a certain way. I have always been bad at having these conversations with family, but I am tired of the way my grandmother treats me. I haven’t been talking to her for the past couple of days because I refuse to go to business as normal and move on like nothing is going on, and I’ve been making a list of reasons why I’m upset with her which has become… extensive.

This list is disorganized and mostly just the tip of an iceberg talking point that we need to settle. It overall encompasses her disguising her homophobia, embarrassment and desire to control and socialize me (i.e. other toxic behaviors) as concern and unconditional love. Her forcing me to get an app that allows her to track and mark everywhere I go is her ploy to keep me under control, yet she disguises this as a way for her to let me know that she is home when I could careless, and she ignores that I am old enough to go where I damn please, don’t do drugs, don’t smoke, don’t party, but “there is too much going on in the world right now, I just need to know where you are.” Ask me… This will also lead me to my next point on how I express myself. I like, no, I fucking love makeup. My fashion sense, as I’ve mentioned before extends from dad to literal queen mom. If I want to wear a suit, I’ll wear a suit, if I want to wear a dad outfit, I’ll work that. If I want to wear sweats all day, girl yes. If I want to wear high heels and a floral top, I will WORK that. And if I want to wear makeup with any of those outfits, I WILL! Can you guess which one grandma absolutely hates? She’s horrible at addressing things too, so she gets passive aggressive. She always has a snide comment about what I wear or my makeup and “how bad it is for [my] face.” Even today, she looked at my Facebook and demanded me to take down my cover and profile picture because I’m wearing a full face of makeup and a floral shirt and my cover photo is the pride flag with the male, female, and intersex signs. It got to the point where I blocked her because I can’t mentally handle all the controlling.

I don’t know. I think I just want her to admit that she’s embarrassed of me if nothing else, recognize that I’m only living here circumstantially, that I am still an adult that she can’t/shouldn’t try to control, and that we should really learn to live with each other.”

We did eventually sit down in the kitchen one late night as I returned home and attempted to express how I felt. I wanted the conversation to be an eye opener for her that she couldn’t police how a grown person could express themselves be it online or in real life. Instead, it turned into an interrogation about, “who molested you?” “where did we go wrong?” and fake tolerance. I just ended up having to face my grandmother, someone who I had deeply respected and revered, someone who helped me through college and through life when I moved out of my father’s house, express her homophobia and internalized misogyny towards me in words disguised as concern and worry.

“Why are you wearing makeup?”

“Boys don’t wear makeup”

“I thought you were doing it to get back at your daddy”

“I’m getting a handle on the whole gay thing. I’m getting a handle on the fact that one day you’re gonna bring a man home. But, now, this makeup is too much! And the clothes you’re wearing. And you’re growing out your hair…”

These are some of the words that were shared with me on that night. It has been a couple of weeks and the conversation still rings in my head back and forth. There are so many petty rebuttals I both wish, but am glad that I didn’t, say. I understand that you care so much about the products I buy and put on my face. I understand that the rules to this binary society so strongly holds on to and polices how one performs their assigned sex at birth. I understand that with that in mind that anything outside that expectation is therefore repaired, most commonly through violence. I especially understand the fragility of masculinity and how anything that easily breaks that line is met with violence.

But I also wish that my grandmother knew that she was and is inciting the violence that she’s afraid will be inflicted on me. Violence isn’t just physical. She understands that as my grandmother, she has a power of influence over me, but instead of using this power and seemingly unconditional love as a force for good, a force to uplift the grandchild and encourage them to be themselves unapologetically while advocating for a better and more accepting world to others, she uses this power to police, criticize and repair my expression, my sexuality, my identity.

Imagine the mental, emotional and psychological damage that inflicts on someone. Every article of clothing you wear – judged. The shoes you wear – judged. Growing, styling or curling your hair – judged. How you talk – judged. What you talk about – judged. Every little thing about you – judged and threatened with getting kicked out of the residence you live in.

“Well, as long as you live under my roof, I don’t want you wearing makeup or girl’s clothes.”

All of this violence inflicted, while the attacker continues to pretend that there is nothing wrong with the relationship, and sweeps everything under a giant rug. This violence which affects so many other queer youths. To tell you how bad it is, I have contemplated being homeless, even at VERY low times suicide, just to be away from her. This is horrible considering that despite the violence, I will love my grandmother no matter what, I would like to mend our relationship, and I feel so guilty for feeling that way. But I cannot possibly see that happening until she magically addresses her own problems and stop projecting her societal desires onto me and my siblings.

So, for now, until I am in a financial position to move out and never come back, I refuse to talk to her unless absolutely necessary. I refuse to pretend to be her friend. I refuse to pretend I can tolerate her being around me. I refuse to pretend that I’m not purposefully avoiding her as much as I can. I refuse to let her involve herself into my life for her to gossip and disapprove. I refuse to let that toxicity invade my life again, and I shall seek help and refuge where I can in continuing therapy and being with the family and friends who accept me and love me for exactly as I am.

Postscript—

I think in terms of making this a discussion, because I could use advice on how else I can move forward. Am I missing something in this situation? I’ve talked about this several times in real life with friends and family, and I keep getting the same answers — “She’s just worried about” “She’s stuck in her ways” “She’s your grandmother, she’s supposed to act that way” But I call absolute bullshit. People can change at ANY age from ANY era, and this situation, I feel is WAY more nuanced than her being worried about me. I’d rather her not die a bigot, so I want to open up ways that I can have discourse with her and show her tools to learn more about the LGBTQIA community.