#whereas red is more of an authority to his siblings

[hahanoiwont]

I would like to take a moment to point out that uh. It sure takes a Kind Of Person to put up with Red in the way Blue does. Like Frisk gets a pass for being 12 and also bc Red seemed to make an effort to keep his damage unoticable to them but Blue really is getting the full view. Like....is *Blue* good he seems to be completely ignoring every red flag that is being waved directly in his face

haha yeah ! blue is actually so normal. he's so so so normal and fine and sane. he just helps red out because he's an angel like that :)

...nah, their relationship is a bit more complex than it seems on the outset. Blue's involvement with Red begs the question of what intent has to do with altruism, because his relationship with Red is gratifying to him partially because it reassures him that he's a good person. Blue has the sort of almost cowardice (I feel like that's the wrong word but it's close enough) that all Sanses do. He just cut and ran after his Gaster's disappearance. He's been trying to make up for it ever since. He wants to save someone, he wants someone in need to come to him and trust him and make him feel like he's "good enough" to "save" someone. When he met Frisk, he thought it would be them--they were terrified of him but they wanted to trust him, and he wanted to be the one to help them. When he lost them, it was devastating. He started to wonder if he really just can't save anyone, and people near him are doomed to vanish forever.

Red appeared exactly when Blue needed him. He offered a second chance with Frisk, and he's someone vulnerable who Blue understands implicitly. We can see Blue projecting wildly onto him during their chapter together, to the point of losing his temper with Red when he recognizes his own coping skills (the source of a lot of Blue's self-hate) in him. He's committed to the idea that if Red can be saved, if he can save Red, then Blue must have worth. So, while I wouldn't say that Blue puts up with all of Red's shit, he does have a lot of loyalty and patience for him.

[oddeyevibes]

Extra Curricular Activities Part 1

Summary: Your students become worried about the man in the red suit that visited you at school.

Words: 1828

The class of 3-C weren’t the best students. They weren’t the worst either which is what made them so frustrating to many of the faculty. They didn’t have the drive to raise the bar and many teachers had an issue with that. 

Not you though. 

That’s not to say you didn’t believe in any of these kids but you also didn’t feel the need to pressure them. They are young and they have their whole lives ahead of them. Your philosophy was that the pressures of school were heavy enough without someone badgering them to not be anything less than perfect. 

There are those moments in time where the school expects you to make them study but you just let them be. It was perfect for actually connecting with them and reminding them that they’re more than they’re grades. 

Plenty of teachers that used to teach them would tell you that “trying to be their friend” would get you nowhere but…they were patronizing. They never approached them like people, they approached them like toddlers that needed to be reminded not to eat glue and when you’re dealing with teenage rebellion, that usually ends with teens doing the thing you told them not to do. 

You can admit that even this approach is motivated. Coming off as someone they can see as their big sister rather than a nagging authority figure. Someone who can be chill but can still put their foot down if the situation called for it. 

But you just…got it. 

Many of them had stuff to do outside of school. That was the ACTUAL issue. Many of these kids had to take up responsibilities because their parents either can’t or won’t take care of them or their siblings. This was the case with Takara Sugimoto, an aspiring author who lives with both her mother and grandmother. However, her grandmother had a knee surgery recently and needs some help and Takara offers since her mother has to work. 

Three generations helping each other stay afloat. 

She doesn’t hang out much with her friends but it warms your heart how her friends understand. 

Like her friend, Hajime Tsuda. His own father had gotten into a car accident and he had been visiting him often with his mother. He wants to be a baseball star when he gets older. 

Then there was the rowdy Da Liu, who never failed to mention how his dad is in the Yokohama Liumang and several times you’ve warned him to keep it down because when push comes to shove, the Liumang would probably have no choice but to expel his dad. 

There was also his twin sister, Chun Liu, who always did her best to stand out against her brother’s antics, less she only known as the class clown’s sister. She liked makeup. She liked regular makeup, she liked glamorous makeup and while she only told this to a few people, she also liked monster makeup. She’d shown you pictures of the Halloween makeup she’s done for her and brother and she has some serious talent. 

There was also Ju-Hee Chung. Whereas the school saw a fair amount of Japanese and Chinese students, Korean students were somewhat rare around here as often many people under Geomijul protection opted to just have their kids learn within their communities. There were outliers though such as Ju-Hee who transferred in after you started teaching this class and she became quick friends with Chun because they liked the same idol. She’s also into fashion and wants to be a designer…or a model…she hasn’t figured it out yet…maybe both.  

Then there was Shuichi Ono. He was one of the bigger kids. Apparently, he’s been weight training with his father because he’s taken a new interest in wrestling and now he currently wants to be a wrestler but the training makes him exhausted and you’d feel bad so you only really wake him up during these breaks whenever another teacher is coming, especially the snitches. 

Sure they weren’t “perfect”. They didn’t get their grades but they were passing. And maybe it did make you a bad teacher or a bad influence but did you wanna be the person that makes them feel that their world is going to collapse on themselves if they get anything lower than an A. 

Yes, this country gets competitive with stuff like this but you’ve always moved with one thought in mind. That very thought stood as one of the reasons you became a teacher. One day, the old destructive ways will die and then the young will change it for the better. They might not be on the front lines, but they will be there and it’s important for them to know that you’re proud of them. 

They’re being their own people. 

They will enact change

……..

……..

Their first order of business is getting you away from that guy that visits you at work. That weirdo in the dusty red suit and the rat’s nest for a hair who seems to be putting the moves on you. 

It started with Da. You had gone out of the room because some of the teachers were talking about some guy just hanging around the school grounds and they were about to call the cops but then you recognized who it was and told them he was harmless, even telling them that you’ll talk to him. 

Someone was supposed to watch the class but after a few rounds of rock, paper, scissors, everyone decided to just leave them be. 

Da, taking the opportunity, decided to pull some of his impressions of British people. At some point, he saw you and Ichiban talking and then he saw Ichiban take hold of your hands and he made his thoughts known. 

“Hey…who’s the bird nest with Ms. L/N?” He asked. 

While most of the students were just actively ignoring him, the aforementioned ones all came over to the window with Shuichi towering over all of them. 

Chun looked over Ichiban’s entire outfit. “I can smell the vintage on that suit from here.” 

Da shot his sister a confused look at her expression before turning his attention back to the both of you. 

“Is that her boyfriend? Did anyone know she had a boyfriend?” Chimed in Takara. “I didn’t think she was into…men.”

 Shuichi’s brows raised in shock. “You sayin Ms. L/N likes women?” 

Da waved it off. “She could be into both, y’know? My mom says she saw one of our neighbors at a hostess club and THEN at a host club. Bisexuals are everywhere. We could all be bisexuals and we wouldn’t even know it.” 

Then Hajime chimed in with a confused tone. “I’m not bisexual.” 

In response, Da leaned in closely to Hajime’s face and whispered, “but how do you knooooowwwwwwww?” 

“Shh!!!” Chun hushed him. “I can’t focus.” 

“Focus on looking?” Da asked with a scoff. 

“I’m trying to practice my lip reading, I wanna know what they’re saying.” 

Shuichi leaned in as if it would give him a clearer look at their expressions while Ju-Hee pulled out her phone from her large sleeves, their main purpose. 

She tried using her camera and zooming in the lens but it was for nothing. The windows were murky from the half-assed job they did yesterday from cleaning it. Well, specifically Da, who’s lip imprints were still visible on another panel. 

“I can’t see anything, if I zoom in too much it gets all fuzzy.” Ju-Hee complained.

Hajime stepped in to try to be the voice of reason. “Maybe it’s her friend?”

“No,” Takara shot it down. “He’s gotta be her boyfriend. Who would voluntarily come back to school?” 

Everyone shot her a glance. “Teachers?” They all replied in unison. 

She scoffed. “Without pay?” 

“........teachers.” They were more sure.

She rolled her eyes. “Maybe he’s so smitten by her that he can’t resist showing up looking like a creeper at the place she works.” 

“Yeeeeah….I’m pretty sure that’s just stalking.” Hajime reasoned as he often did whenever she started losing her head into the clouds. Then he gasped. “Is she being stalked?” 

A gasp from Chun followed. “That bastard!” 

“I mean…she looks like she’s smiling.” Shuichi pointed out. 

“YOU FOOL!” Chun yelled. “That’s a defense mechanism. Women often smile when they’re worried that the guy might kill her. I hear it’s especially dangerous in places like the States with their guns. You don’t laugh at a guy’s joke there, BAM they shoot you, in front of EVERYONE and the cops STILL won’t throw away the key.” She let out another gasp. “That’s probably why. She’s probably suffering from PTSD.” 

“But she grew up in Japan.” Shuichi replied. 

“She was born in the states and moved here when she was way younger and then she went to college in the states. Something could’ve happened.” 

Hajime let out an exhausted sigh. “Then would she have anything to worry about? Guns aren’t legal here and it’s hard to get them normally and even if you buy them in parts, it’s illegal to put it together.”

Then Da had a revelation. “Unless…he’s a gangster.” 

Now everyone looked to him but their expressions all portrayed roughly the same sentiments. Da could be right. 

“They don’t care about legality.” Takara whispered in shock. “He could have a gun on him right now.” 

Ju-Hee gasped. “Maybe she doesn't know. Maybe he’s playing her.” 

“He could be Yakuza. Y’know, they walk around in bright suits all the time. My uncle used to be Yakuza and when he wanted to leave, he had to cut something off.” 

“Wasn’t that back when the legal system was a bit more loose?” Hajime asked. “They wear normal suits now, don’t they? So they don’t stand out?” 

The energy among the group deflated. “Maybe…” They were all heard muttering quietly. 

Then Takara perked up. “Or…that’s his plan.” 

Everyone looked at her. 

“What if he’s trying to trick her? Like dressing so ridiculous that Ms. L/N won’t even consider him being a gangster? What if he’s trying to traffic her?” 

Jun-Hee spoke up. “They always do go for people they think are foreigners.” 

Hajime huffed. “If they’re foreign tourists,” he tried correcting his friends. 

“No, any foreigner is a good foreigner to them.” Ju-Hee replied. 

Takara let out a sad sigh. “Poor Ms. L/N. Doesn’t even know she’s being played for a fool.” 

“Bullshit!” Da exclaimed, pushing himself away from the window. “We can’t let this bastard get away with this! This guy’s playin’ her and we don’t know what other bullshit he could have planned for her.” 

“Should we confront him now?” Chun asked, now she was becoming fully invested in her brother’s words. 

“No. We have to get proof. If we go now, she’ll just tell us everything is fine.” 

His eyes turned back towards Ichiban but you were seen coming back into the building. 

“We’ll have to make plans to follow him.” 

[lionmom-svenomverse]

WOW I somehow forgot to post this here!! Y’all are getting two posts today babey!

Anyways here’s the QuibbleDashBellSky family concept art! Btw, Wind Sprint is no longer with Toola Roola and Coconut Cream! They’re together on their own, whereas Wind is now with Peach Fuzz--they have a kid named Gold Dust :] Other than that and some other changes/additions to HCs that aren’t shown here, the notes for these guys are below the cut!

💙 Gilda the Griffon - Ex-Girlfriend of Rainbow Dash, wife of Dragon Lord Ember. Mother of Galah Fallstreak Dash and Princex Sardonyx Snapdragon. Occasional Baker. Griffon. Trans Female (She/her), Lesbian 💙 I was afraid I was gonna draw her weird but I'm happy with how she came out,,,i love you emotionally constipated butch bird 💙 Rainbow Dash - Younger sister of Rainbow Blaze, Rainbowshine, Rainbow Drop, Northern Lights, Rainbow Swoop and Rainy Day. Ex-Girlfriend of Gilda the Griffon, wife of Dumbbell, Clear Sky and Quibble Pants. Mother of Galah Fallstreak Dash (bio), Wind Sprint (step), Snowsquall Stanza, Catatumbo Dash (bio), Pristine Prose (bio) and Red Herring. Wonderbolt. Element of Loyalty. Member of the Council of Friendship. Teacher at the School of Friendship. Has ADHD and autism. Was born premature. Pegasus. Bigender (She/her, He/him), Bi 💙 I got the HC that Rainbow has all those siblings from hateful-minds, who doesn't have an account anymore afaik but I've always liked that idea so I used it as well. ALSO she has glasses cause I'm very fond of jock/egghead combo Rainbow. She probably hosts a book club and maybe moonlights as a librarian reading Daring Do books to children? Idk thinking about Rainbow Dash reading to a group of kids like my old elementary school librarian used to do with my classes makes me :] 💙 Horseshoe Comet - Ex-Boyfriend of Clear Sky. Father of Wind Sprint. Ex-Ice Archer. Gambler at Las Pegasus. Earth Pony. Agender (He/him mainly), Bi 💙 Originally I paired him with Nurse Fahrenheit, but retconned that when I decided to make him Wind's dad. I don't think he was an abusive partner to Clear but I do think he was fairly absent and not emotionally attached, and was far more focused on having fun than raising a family. He and Wind probably had a close relationship though (he was the typical cool dad compared to the somewhat strict Clear), so when they separated she didn't take it too well. Considering Quibble says Wind's father was a big athlete, maybe Comet was a star athlete in high school who hit it big, and he met Clear at an event and the two hit it off? Either way, Comet was more interested in the fame and money that came with his job, and perhaps after he retired early from an injury he used his savings to fulfill his gambling spree, which lead to distrust on Clear's end who had little to no support from him in the first place and was raising their child? Idk, just spitballing at this point 💙 Clear Sky - Ex-Girlfriend of Horseshoe Comet, wife of Rainbow Dash, Dumbbell and Quibble Pants. Mother of Wind Sprint (bio), Galah Fallstreak Dash (step), Snowsquall Stanza, Catatumbo Dash, Pristine Prose and Red Herring (bio). Unicorn. Trans Mare (She/her), Pan 💙 I don't have any ideas of what occupation she might have, but maybe she was a cheerleader in high school, which is how she met Horseshoe? 💙 Dumbbell - Husband of Rainbow Dash, Quibble Pants and Clear Sky. Father of Wind Sprint (step), Galah Fallstreak Dash (step), Snowsquall Stanza (bio), Catatumbo Dash (bio), Pristine Prose and Red Herring. Ex-Bully. Weather Factory Worker. Weightlifter/Powerlifter. Pegasus. Cis Stallion (He/him), Bi 💙 Nothing to add here I just think he's neat,,,thank you Lopoddity for introducing me to Dumbdash 💙 Quibble Pants - Older brother of Nitpick. Husband of Rainbow Dash, Dumbbell and Clear Sky. Father of Wind Sprint (step), Galah Fallstreak Dash (step), Snowsquall Stanza (bio), Catatumbo Dash, Pristine Prose (bio)  and Red Herring (bio). Author. Writing Critic. Has autism. Dyes his hair. Earth Pony. Demiboy (He/him, They/them), Queer 💙 I really like the HC that Quibble is naturally blonde and dyes his hair gray to look more like Daring Do, whadda nerd. His dappled markings are inspired by Lopoddity's design of Mudbriar (who is with Quibble in her verse), and also Quibs is chubby because I like to think he is god bless 💙 Dragon Lord Ember - Wife of Gilda. Mother of Princex Sardonyx Snapdragon. Ruler of the Dragon Lands. Dragon. Cis Female (She/her), Bi 💙 Not much to say about her! First time drawing a dragon in a hot minute, and I think she came out pretty good. She was in a relationship with her friends Spike and Thorax for a good while, and although they've since broken up they're still very close. Honey Locust, Mantis and Ladybird consider her a mother figure! 💙 Wind Sprint - Daughter of Horseshoe Comet and Clear Sky, stepdaughter of Dumbbell, Rainbow Dash and Quibble Pants. Older step-sister of Galah Fallstreak Dash, older half-sister of Snowsquall Stanza, Catatumbo Dash, Pristine Prose and Red Herring. Wife of Toola Roola and Coconut Cream. Wonderbolt Reserve. Buckball Player. Pegasus. Nonbinary (She/her and They/them mainly), Lesbian 💙 Added another color to her hair to make it more similar to Clear! Gets her pink eyes/pegasus genes from either Horseshoe or Clear's side of the family. She was originally going to be a Rainbow/Clear kid but after I watched some clips of her episode I decided to make her Horseshoe's kid instead. Regardless, she both looks the part for a Rainbow/Clear kid and still works as a Horseshoe/Clear kid :] 💙 Toola Roola - Younger sister of Holly Dash. Wife of Wind Sprint and Coconut Cream. Artist. Occasional dancer. Earth Pony. Demigirl (She/her, They/them), Bi 💙 I'm sorry I don't have any major HCs for Toola or Coconut,,,I haven't fully watched their episode yet (I watched a clip or two) so I had to look at their G3 equivalents for some help. If y'all have any ideas for them I'd love to hear it! 💙 Coconut Cream - Wife of Wind Sprint and Toola Roola. Counselor (?). Earth Pony. Cis Mare (She/her), Lesbian 💙 Galah Fallstreak Dash - Son of Gilda the Griffon and Rainbow Dash, stepson of Clear Sky, Dumbbell and Quibble Pants. Younger step-brother of Wind Sprint, older half-brother of Snowsquall Stanza, Princex Sardonyx Snapdragon, Catatumbo Dash, Pristine Prose and Red Herring. Hoofball Quarterback. Hippogryph. 30 y/o. Genderfluid (He/him mainly), Toric. 💙 Likes sports, fish, BBQ and flying. Was originally a Garble/Gilda NG named Vulcano, whose name changed to solely Galah before I made him a Gildadash kid. He's heavily inspired by @/fastserve's Blue Skies Blitz and @/owlcoholik's Heathcliff, and his design is based on galah cockatoos! Looks intimidating but is a jock with a heart of gold. Lowkey looks like he should be a part of a rock band with his face markings (maybe he will be in the future). Probably towers over his siblings but they all adore him, and he gives great hugs. Maybe tutors/babysits younger kids on the side. Special talent is playing Hoofball 💙 Snowsquall Stanza - Son of Dumbbell and Quibble Pants, stepson of Clear Sky and Rainbow Dash. Younger half-brother of Wind Sprint and Galah Fallstreak Dash, older half-brother of Princex Sardonyx Snapdragon, Catatumbo Dash, Pristine Prose and Red Herring. Figure Skater. Has autism. Earth Pony. 28 y/o. Cis Stallion (He/him), Gay. 💙 Likes hanging out with his younger siblings, skating, winter and minty drinks. Was originally a Thunderlane/Lightning Dust kid solely named 'Snowsquall'. Kind at heart but competitive on the ice. Probably got his scar from training. Wondering if I should make him a lowkey expy of Yuuri Katsuki from Yuri!!! On Ice. Considering having him and Wintergreen Dream (son of Double Diamond and Night Glider) be a thing, because his special talent is brewing anxiety-reducing drinks and he's probably a regular at his shop getting his daily caffeine kick before major skating events, and maybe flirting a lil on the side. Also they both have wintry-themed names so idk it'd be cute. Special talent is figure skating 💙 Princex Sardonyx Snapdragon - Child of Dragon Lord Ember and Gilda the Griffon. Younger half-sibling of Wind Sprint, Galah Fallstreak Dash and Snowsquall Stanza, older half-sibling of Catatumbo Dash, Pristine Prose and Red Herring. Crown Princex of the Dragon Lands. Lapidarist. Dragriffon. 26 y/o. Genderfluid (They/them mainly), Aro/Ace. 💙 Had a lot of fun designing them! Much like how Galah is based on galah cockatoos, Sardonyx is based on the hornbill! Donnie here is kinda an asshole but it's just because they've got a huge ego. They have a rivalry with their eldest half-sibling, Galah, and when the two play hoofball it can get pretty rough. Galah is a Quarterback and is pretty good at what he does but throwing Donnie into the mix keeps him on his toes. Sardonyx thinks they're one of the prettiest things to cross the Dragon Lands (and frankly all of Gaia), and although they have no genuine interest in relationships and stuff like that they are known to entertain others trying to court them in exchange for attention/gifts (and when you're the child of the Dragon Lord, that's very common). When they're working, however, they can show a seriousness and focus that is rarely seen on the Crown Princex. 💙 Catatumbo Dash - Child of Dumbbell and Rainbow Dash, stepchild of Clear Sky and Quibble Pants. Younger half-sibling of Wind Sprint, Galah Fallstreak Dash, Snowsquall Stanza and Princex Sardonyx Snapdragon, older half-sibling of Pristine Prose and Red Herring. Meteorologist. Has ADHD and autism. Pegasus. 25 y/o. Nonbinary (He/him mainly), Aro/Bi. 💙 Likes studying weather, rainstorms, hiking and weightlifting. Smart and knows it. Cutthroat at times but friendly in his own strange way once you get to know him. Has severe RBF. Wears pink glasses and dares you to make fun of him for it. Rarely smiles but that doesn't mean he isn't happy. Lifts weights with his dad to relieve tension from work and day-to-day life. Special talent is weather magic 💙 Pristine Prose - Daughter of Quibble Pants and Rainbow Dash, stepdaughter of Clear Sky and Dumbbell. Younger half-sister of Wind Sprint, Galah Fallstreak Dash, Snowsquall Stanza, Princex Sardonyx Snapdragon and Catatumbo Dash, older half-sister of Red Herring. Physical Therapist. Has ADHD. Pegasus. 22 y/o. Cis Mare (She/her), Lesbian. 💙 Likes writing, caring for others, sunny days and discussing Daring Do lore with her dad. Design is kinda inspired by flashback Safe Side Super Chick, because I still adore her to this day and she was one of my first gay crushes so why not immortalize her in my silly pony kid. She also kinda resembles the lesbian flag which was not intended but is appreciated nonetheless. Has heterochromia; her other eye is yellow. Very bubbly and easily excitable. Takes her job seriously and does what she can to help other ponies. Falls in love with all the pretty ladies she sometimes helps out. Special talent is rehabilitating ponies; maybe she got it helping Galah take care of a sports injury he got? 💙 Red Herring - Son of Quibble Pants and Clear Sky, stepson of Dumbbell and Rainbow Dash. Younger half-brother of Wind Sprint, Galah Fallstreak Dash, Snowsquall Stanza, Princex Sardonyx Snapdragon, Catatumbo Dash and Pristine Prose. Author/Ghost Writer. Journalist. Has autism. Unicorn. 19 y/o. Transmasculine/Nonbinary (He/him, They/them, Xey/xem), Demisexual Toric. 💙 Like writing, coffee and donuts, book clubs and a good debate. Chubby like his dad. Has a very relaxed and chill personality; unless they're passionate about a subject they don't get too heated. Might be mentored under Ahuizotl and A.K. Yearling. Was slightly inspired by @/ktCATSbone's QuibbleSky NG Collaboration. Xey and Pristine probably get into long-winded discussions about Daring Do lore (with Quibble and Rainbow probably jumping in at some point). Special talent is writing mystery novels

[dracosathenaeum]

The Story of Us

Summary: You and Draco are both death eaters, so you make a plan to escape the life you’ve been dealt

Pairings: Draco Malfoy x Reader, Draco Malfoy x Azkaban

Word Count: 1,353

#A/N: Requested by @trouxa2x, I hope you like it! I used a different writing style with this one, so I hope it’s okay! I feel like I could've turned this into a series, but this one shot will do for now, enjoy!

It was only natural that you both had grown up together, you had come from families of the sacred 28 after all. You were raised together as you were so close in age, sharing practically all your childhood memories. Draco remembered seeing you for the first time, in your little red dress clutching onto the leg of your father as you started timidly at him. You could say he fell in love with you then and there, he just hadn’t known it.

You had spent a couple years being as close as siblings, spending almost every day together; you had no burdens back then, just children of prominent families. The world was practically handed to the two of you on a silver platter.

Hogwarts changed the both of you though. He had found his place with other prominent Slytherins, believing that he was above others for the value his name held and the ‘purity’ of his blood. Whereas you had simply decided to enjoy your time there, you knew eventually you would have to marry a pure blood, but that didn’t mean you saw yourself as above everyone else as the others had. The two of you had grown apart quite quickly, almost naturally, but there was never any bad blood between the two of you. You still met at family functions and pretended to be close in front of your families when in reality you barely spoke a word to each other through the school year. You had simply grown out of each other.

It wasn’t until sixth year that the two of you had gotten as close as you once were, closer in fact. Your eyes had met from across the room as you stood around the table with the other death eaters, the burning of your left forearm matching Draco’s. Neither of you had to say anything, the both of you having an unspoken conversation as you realised what you had just become.

The two of you had gone around, celebrating with the other adults, but as soon as you found an opening, the two of you slipped away. Though, there really was no slipping away from the dark lord, the whole room watched the two practically run up the stairs to Draco’s room. They all celebrated, thinking it was another union of purebloods. That was why you could cast a silencing spell as soon as the door to Draco’s room clicked shut, knowing no one would question why.

The both of you had fallen apart in each other’s arms, sobbing into one another’s necks, hands gripping onto whatever they could hold to anchor them onto reality, not sure who needed who more. You hadn’t been this close in years but that no longer mattered, it was as if you had never been apart. His grip on your waist was painful but nothing compared to the pain in your heart on what you had just been forced to take on. Neither of you had spoken a word that night, you just held each other, knowing that was what you needed.

From then on, the two of you worked together to build the vanishing closet, neither of you speaking about what you knew was to happen. You had found yourselves breaking down together over the life you were forced into, neither of you were particularly open with your emotions but this unspoken relationship was all you had.

Your friends had known you used to be close so didn’t ask too many questions on why exactly it was that you two were suddenly spending so much time together. This itself was a relief as you wouldn’t know how to explain what it was that the two of you had.

Which is why when it happened, it was almost natural. On one of the nights when you were just holding each other, your lips found each other, and you found other ways to relieve stress and to feel again. Neither of you spoke about whether it was love or if it was because you two were forced together because of what your families and Voldemort put you through, both of you know it’s more though, it had to be. Something in your lives had to be real to counteract the utter shit you’d been forced to do.

It was the night of Dumbledore’s death that had you both wanting more. More than this life could offer you at present. You had both been haunted by the looks on everyone’s faces when they found out it was Snape who had killed Dumbledore and not the two of you. The both of you had been shunned to Draco’s room, Voldemort sending the two of you away so that the ‘adults’ could talk.

You come up with a plan in Draco’s room. A plan that at the final stand-off, when Voldemort would give Hogwarts a chance to join his side, the both of you would slip away. You knew it wouldn’t be that easy, but it was the only opportunity that would allow you both to escape under the cover of being Hogwarts students and not the heirs to noble families.

The both of you would pack beforehand, you would withdraw just enough money that your parents wouldn’t be suspicious but enough for a fresh start. So, you had fought with Hogwarts, stood your ground when Slytherin’s were asked to go to the dungeons and instead be there for the final stand-off. Your parents had to see you first, had to know it was your own decisions to leave, that you weren’t kidnapped by Dumbledore’s army.

You stood there, hand in hand, as you watched Voldemort proclaim Harry Potter as dead. This was it; this was the only time you would have to leave; you squeezed each other’s hands as you back away, ready to start over.

“Draco.” You both freeze, hearts beating out of your ears. Why now, you only needed a second more, you were both supposed to be able to leave. You were hidden behind some taller 7th years, but Draco? His platinum hair and tall build was hard to hide.

You had tighten your grip on his hand as all eyes turned to Draco. Everyone on Hogwarts’ side could see you, could see the panic in your eyes as Draco let go of your hand.

He had to act quick; the other side hadn’t seen you yet and he wasn’t about to throw you both under the train. Tears threaten to fall from your eyes as he pushes his signet ring into your hand before heeding his mother’s call and ripping his hand from yours, turning to join the other side.

You want to scream and cry and run to join him, but Draco had sacrificed himself for you, so you turn, and you run, and you don’t look back.

That was the last time he had seen you; both the wizarding and muggle authorities alongside all the old families had looked for you, looked for your body as they thought you had died; but only Draco knew the truth. Well he hoped it was the truth, that you had left and started a better life.

That’s what he tells himself at least, as he sits in dark cell in Azkaban. No one had defended him at the trial, they had all seen him willingly join Voldemort, they had seen him stay and fight his own classmates instead of run with his parents as it meant it’d give you more time to run before your parents had noticed you weren’t there.

He made sure he never killed though, just stunning and disarming spells until Harry could defeat Voldemort.

And now he’s paying the price for your freedom.

But it’s worth it he thinks.

So, he sits and stares at stone walls all day, reliving his days with you in his head, wondering when it had all gone wrong. You were enough to keep him sane in the place he knew he was to die in, but he tells himself it was worth it, that he’d do it all over again, for you.

TAGLIST: @bbeauttyybbx @pipppaaaaalouisee @theslytherinprincessworld @fangirl-3d2y @tttyrus @scriptingslytherin @justmimithings @purpleskymalfoy @minigigglybabi @malfoyquinn @secretaccshh @obbrssession @whatwoulddracodo @thatoneniceslytherin @thehumanistsdiary @mariah-can-dream @futureofanthropology @ccabian @tobarmaidswhodontcount @potatothingsz  @xuckduck @dreamyginny @dracofeltonmalfoy @lord-byron @inglourious-imagines @audreythehufflepuff @beiahadid @moonlightorbit @imonlyherecauseimbored @dracosgoodgirl @dreaming-about-fanfictions @goldenxreid

Add yourself to my taglist!

[yetanotherlesbianonthiswebsite]

Venefica Hawke

The Champion of Darktown, the most powerful mage outside of Tevinter, Kirkwall’s Most Wanted Criminal, and, among the templars, the hushed whisper of the Red Death

The most appropriate song for her

In the Tower Age, the Chantry defined the crime of venefica as acts of magic performed as direct attacks against the authority of the Chantry - a mixture of apostacy, sedition, and heresy. When Malcolm Hawke held his firstborn child in his hands, he jokingly suggested to Leandra to name this child Venefica. Leandra quickly vetoed that and they settled on the name Elaine. The child showed her ability of magic for the first time three weeks after her fourth birthday - immediately so proficient at force magic that she unlocked the incredibly rare ability of hovering several meters high in the air above the ground. She did not know that no mage had been able to do this in several ages, but Malcolm did. If this was the moment he understood that his joke had been more of a prophecy, no one can tell. Learning about that joke at the age of 15, after her first, very successful attempts at blood magic, Venefica decided that it was indeed a fitting name.

Venefica grew tall, even for Fereldan standards, standing at 1.91 meters. The day her magic first manifested, the hair on the top of her head began losing colour, and no healer could ever explain why. Her magical prowess was uncanny. Whereas any form of blood magic usually attracts demons that want to take advantage of the user, Venefica’s willpower and magical strength made all but the oldest and strongest demons afraid of her. With most demons submitting to her or avoiding her entirely, she could easily perform blood magic on a level most doubted possible. Excelling at both the schools of Force and Blood Magic, she could easily fly into a battlefield and defeat a dozen combatants in a matter of seconds. Her combat presence was terrifying to anyone, whether they heard the stories about her or not. Ironically, this made most people outside of Kirkwall doubt her existence, since no one believed a mage so powerful to be more than a folk tale. Outside of combat, Venefica excelled at charisma, switching between diplomatic, sarcastic and aggressive voices as necessary to get what she wanted.

When the Blight spreading throughout Ferelden hit the town of Lothering, Venefica tried to flee the Darkspawn horde together with her family. However, during their escape together with the recent widow of a templar that Venefica immediately felt a strong animosity towards, an ogre attacked and killed Leandra. Now the oldest in the family, Venefica took the risk of accepting the help of a witch to escape in order to protect her two younger siblings. She decided on Kirkwall, the city she knew they still had family in, as a destination. Arriving in Kirkwall, she had no choice but to join a small band of smugglers. However, with her charisma and cool-headedness, she quickly gained Athenril’s favor, taking over command over larger and larger chunks of the rapidly growing network throughout Kirkwall’s underworld until Venefica and not Athenril stood as the leader of the organisation. Eliminating the entirety of the Carta’s leadership one night after they had continually sent more and more assassins after her, Venefica rose to become the undisputed queen of thieves in Kirkwall, swearing them in for a code of ethics to only steal from the nobles in the High Town. Using the vast fortune this provided to her, Venefica, with her sister Bethany as second in command, began fashioning those parts of Kirkwall’s criminal underground that she hadn’t destroyed completely into a powerful mage resistance network. The only smuggling the thugs formerly under Athenril’s command now engaged in was smuggling mages out of Kirkwall’s Circle of Magi.

It didn’t take long until the nobility and templars noticed what was happening. Guard Captain Aveline send guardsmen to arrest Venefica twice, both times having them return to her humiliated and defeated, with Venefica’s message that she wouldn’t hesitate to kill them if they returned a third time. Aveline then mobilized a hundred guardsmen, almost a quarter of the force, towards Venefica’s base of operations in Darktown, only to have but a third of them, including Aveline, manage to escape the subsequent battle with their lives. Unfazed by being the public enemy number one, Venefica then strolled into the Viscount’s Keep, kicked down the door to his offices and informed him not to mess with her again.

This de-facto truce lasted until early summer of 9:33, when assassins on the orders of Knight-Commander Meredith assassinated the Viscount because she hated his leniency towards Venefica, made it look like Venefica’s doing, and placed Kirkwall under Templar martial law. Tensions build quickly until Meredith began hungering out Lowtown and Darktown in an attempt to make them surrender Venefica. As they refused to do so, Meredith send a large contingent of templars into Darktown with publicly announced orders to kill its population until Venefica showed herself. Venefica then led her small fighting force of mages and assassins against the templars that outnumbered them. She won this fight in addition to driving off the Orlesian mercenary ships that had shut down the harbor, letting grain flow back into Lowtown and Darktown. Her unwavering willigness to help the downtrodden when they asked her, the fact that she redistributed ressources from the High Town to Darktown and her aversion of that potential massacre earned her the veneration of its inhabitants as well as the moniker “Champion of Darktown.” Meredith, in the meantime, had trouble keeping morale up among the templars, as many quit over stories how “The Red Death” had made the hearts of dozen upon dozens of their comrades simply stop as if it was nothing.

Venefica is a polyamorous lesbian. She met a young elven woman named Merrill when fulfilling her promise to the witch that saved her and her siblings. Venefica began admiring Merrill for her positive stance on magic, and, once Merrill opened up to her, even more for her unwavering determination to restore her people’s culture. Venefica began unequivocally and fully supporting Merrill in that quest, doing everything within her vast power to help Merrill when Merrill asked her for it. Sooner than later, they confessed romantic feelings for each other.

Isabela and Hawke started out as friends with benefits, but Hawke began catching feelings for that woman whose highest respect was towards the autonomy of every individual, and Isabela slowly began realizing her tender feelings for Hawke and Merrill equally, and Merrill herself began admiring Isabela for her kindness and constant support. It took them a while to realize and vocalize that they held romantic feelings as three, and they formed an open polyamorous triad. After the battle to end the siege of the harbor, Venefica gifted Isabela one of the Orlesian ships she had cleared out in the fight.

If you want to know how the conflict in Kirkwall resolves in 9:34, the Free Marches storyline of my AU begins in Chapter 15 of my yet to be finished longfic :D I will probably release the chapter where they enter the Fade sometime next week.

[dyketectivecomics]

is War Games (specifically steph being fired/stealing bruce's plans and Dying) gonna exist in ur RR au?

This is very much a ‘Yes and No’ kinda answer! I’m mix and matching a LOT of events/motivations for each of the robins. So yes, some form of War Games is going to exist, but no, it’s not quite going to effect Steph specifically? Lemme explain:

(Under a Cut for Spoilers to my RR au, and also bc Long and Rambly lmao)

Mostly I’m aiming to do some event swapping bc I like the idea of some of these events being given to their respective ‘reversed’ robins? So like, Dick n Duke’s relationships with the fam & esp with Bruce are going to be flipped bc it feels like the logical progression for someone who’s been with Bruce for the longest vs someone who’s relatively new (which is also why im considering doing a “We Are The Flock” type thing for Dick to parallel the “We Are Robin” movement. but thats neither here nor there).

So we’ve got Babs n Harper as logical swaps ofc, and so are Damian and Jason (altho for them, their backstories are so different that it doesnt allow for as much swapping in quite the same way). And you might be thinking “But randy, you’re not swapping Tim and Steph/whoever in the same way? what gives?” and yeah, youre right, im not. But that’s bc Jason and Steph... have always felt like much clearer parallels to me *shrug*

They’re the ones who get some more arc sharing. thems the breaks. my version of the AU, my rules.

The War Games arc (specifically with stealing a contingency plan into motion in an Effort to Prove™ oneself) is gonna mostly be shuffled over to Jason now. I’ve decided to commit to making Jason take up the Rook mantle regardless of what Tim chooses (or maybe even in spite of him haha) and the more I was thinking abt especially Cass and Jason’s new dynamic, and the idea of her underestimating him/goading him (as siblings do)... the more I liked the idea of Jason having a BIG chip on his shoulder and putting War Games into affect to Prove himself to the rest of the fam. That he Is just as Smart and Cunning and Capable as the rest of them. (& it having the disastrous results we all very well expect) 

And from there, that’s where Im gonna do a slight merging of the Under the Hood arc alongside War Games (altho Steph isnt going to be donning a Red Hood costume. she’s gettin :) something else)

As far as steph’s death tho, I want it to moreso be a parallel to Damian’s death. A sacrifice in an effort to protect others. Bc ultimately that WAS what damian was doing. he was capable of holding his own in a fight. I do think he could have held Heretic off... but there were people there he needed to protect. And that was what made his death so tragic, and had such an impact. That Growth™ he had before it. So imagine some of that tragedy for steph, but this time, its in the direction of “she had been doing so well and Bruce was giving her credit where it was rightfully due, despite his protestations when she had first started”... only for her to realize in a moments notice, that the Only Way to save the day, is through that ultimate sacrifice. 

I want to be clear that I dont blame any of the Robins for their own deaths, its a decision of the authors/editorial. But I do like a Good death much more than a shocking one. I ultimately accept a death in fiction much more easily if the characters have some form of choice in the matter. Esp when that choice is a sacrificial one. (which is why I think Jason and Damian’s deaths hit so hard, where Jason was doing all he could to save his mom, and Dami was protecting civilians in the area, whereas Steph’s (who had no choice in being tortured and unable to save herself in time) is called into question much more often, even tho, the same as Jason and Damian, she was intended to stay dead. that and her not dying “in costume”, which bothers the HELL outta me. like... her LAST CONVERSATION WITH BRUCE was him AFFIRMING that she was Robin! ppl who dont count her as a Dead Robin bother the FUCK outta me. i cant fdsajkl;)

Anyways, that’s kinda OFF topic. Back On: I do still want her to die more or less at Black Mask’s hands tho. We gotta keep SOME consistency. And esp bc I’ve got Plans™ for how its all gonna come back around full circle for when Steph comes back to Gotham. Her being killed in a gang war, and then being a Dramatic Bitch™ and coming back in the middle of another one... just really hits me in all the right ways too lmao

(oh also side note, i know i said jason wasnt gonna die in his search for his mom and same here. jason gets ONE universe where he DOESNT DIE thanks fjkdasl)

[mellowmoonn]

Writing Help - Genres

As a writer, you really need to know what age group you intend to write for. Depending on the age, you may need to censor yourself or glaze over some heavier topics. Think of ATLA and how they never actually stated Jet died but instead insinuated it. Or, in YA novels when characters get close and the narrator skips over the most NSFW parts of the sex scene. 

Disclaimer: Keep in mind I’m writing from my knowledge and what I remember reading at a certain age. Some research has been done for accuracy. I also don’t enjoy adult novels, particularly because they tend to be too much for me (...there tends to be lots of NSFW). With that said, forgive me if the examples aren’t amazing.

Who Do You Want to Write For?

Understanding who you want to write for makes the process much easier. If you want to write horror books for children because there aren’t enough of them, great. You can then proceed to write down your ideas and focus on the scare factor as well as how detailed you want your descriptions to be. Less is more, especially for younger kids. A single sentence in middle-grade horror can disturb even me. And trust me, most things don’t bother me.

Once you know what to write for, you can study your demographic more. By that, I simply mean what people your age are interested in. This isn’t saying you cannot write what you want to for who you want to write it for, but looking at the demographics will get your book(s) out there. For example, children might not enjoy or understand romance but gravitate more to adventure, comedy, slice of life, or superhero stuff. 

What Do These Genres Entail?

You need to know what you’re getting yourself into when you write, so I’m going to give you a shortlist of genres and the content that is appropriate for each. Assuming most aren’t writing for children younger than 5, I won’t include those genres.

Remember to do your own research.

Children (5-8)

Due to childhood development, this genre varies quite a bit. I’ll generalize for simplicity.

Children between the ages of five and eight typically begin to independently read. Development varies, but using simpler language and including pictures aids them in taking in the content and understanding it.

From younger to older children: picture books, comics, short chapter books. It depends on their development and interests as well. 

Even in picture books, these are usually longer than for younger children. They never exceed 100 pages and often have larger fonts.

Characters are usually animals or younger children (some with their parents).

Book examples: Pete the Cat, Poppleton, The Magic Tree House, Fantastic Mr. Fox

Middle Grade (8-12)

Pictures are still relevant sometimes, but it depends on the book. Most kids this age can visualize and don’t need much unless it’s something like fantasy or horror (Coraline has an edition with pictures as well as a disturbing graphic novel).

Slang begins to be included at this age and more mature language. Depending on the book, simple swears like “crap” or “damn” may be used. Insults begin to pop up as jokes and body humor are more appropriate at this age.

Sometimes romance makes its way into these books, but kids these ages still gravitate to things that aren’t so “gross.” 

Middle-Grade books begin to exceed that 100-page mark and chapter book series with a logical plot and/or order comes about. 

Characters are typically human, but supernatural creatures are popular in novels in this age group.

Book examples: Coraline, Ramona’s World, Because of Winn Dixie, Charlotte’s Web, Goosebumps

Young Adult (12-18)

You (typically) won’t catch pictures in a YA book, rather vivid descriptions. The only time pictures are in books is when maps are included. Pictures are an author’s choice.

YA is also a very large genre with varying developmental stages. Some books gravitate more to middle grade, others new adult.

The genres of books boom in YA because so much more can be done. You will catch books that are strictly romance, others crime, and even mystery. 

Swearing is no longer avoided in YA novels. Characters will openly say fuck a thousand times and no one looks twice. 

YA books tend to have deeper conversations than books for younger audiences. Killing off main characters isn’t looked down upon. These books also tend to speak about and represent sex, but never in grave detail. Characters will never get past removing clothing. The issue of sex in YA is also a controversial topic that is pretty interesting when looked into.

The themes of YA books are ones that teenagers typically experience. This could be gender, sexuality, self-worth, etc.

YA books are usually between 200 and 500 pages. It depends on whether it is a novella, stand-alone, or series.

Characters are in middle or high school, to which the readers can relate to. The home and parents are also relevant. Lots of talk about family life and such.

Book Examples: The Fault in Our Stars, The Book Thief, Divergent, The Hunger Games, The Catcher in the Rye

New Adult (18-25)

Once again, pictures are usually maps and such.

NA does everything a YA does in more detail. It’s the genre for people who like YA but want a bit more or don’t want to be held back as much. When your target audience doesn’t involve children, your creative freedom can run (nearly) wild.

Sex scenes are explicit. No one questions a sex scene in a NA, nor censors them in the way YA does. The narrator doesn’t have to glaze over this, rather describing the emotional and physical aspects of it as they would with anything else.

In comparison to YA, NA books tackle different themes. A NA book might not focus on growing up, rather the independence or struggle of having grown up. More adult things such as struggles for housing and finance might arise differently than it would to someone younger watching their parents struggle and going down along with them.

NA books tend to fall in the same page range as YA books. Again, very similar, but not the same. Think of YA as the bridge between YA and Adult. A little more, but not too much.

Characters are typically between the age range of the readers, but they don’t have to be. 

Book Examples: A Court of Thorns and Roses, Lily and the Octopus, Red White and Royal Blue, Code Name: Verity, The Good Girl

Adult (25+)

Keep in mind that I do not read adult books...

I’ve never heard of photos in adult novels. Correct me if I am wrong.

Nothing is really off-limits in adult books. Anything you could ever want to write about can fit in this genre. Period pieces, historical fiction, horror, and autobiographies are often found as adult books.

Pieces are much more complex than those meant for younger audiences such as a YA or NA. They also tackle more difficult topics such as racism and abuse in more mature ways. It’s much easier to cover something like that in a book for older audiences than younger ones because you don’t necessarily have to simplify things. Focusing on the experiences of the character as if it were of coming of age isn’t as important.

The detail in adult books also changes in comparison to books for younger audiences. Whereas violence maybe something quick and easy, an adult book will drag it with vivid details. In Cirque du Freak, a middle-grade novel, the tearing of a person’s arm was described in two sentences in a way that made the reader imagine what an arm tearing would be like. In an adult book, you best be sure you’ll be reading about anatomy and immense amounts of gore.

Adult books can be short or extremely long. It depends on the genre once you hit adult books, as attention span isn’t much of a big deal anymore.

The characters in an adult book can be any age. It’s the content at this point and not who’s reading. An adult book can follow a tween/teen, an adult, or an elderly person. It doesn’t matter. What does matter is how you handle what is happening to certain characters. For example, if your character is a minor, you shouldn’t be writing graphic sex scenes. 

Book Examples: The Help, The Girl on the Train, The Handmaid’s Tale, The Kite Runner, The Shining

Conclusions

I feel like I could write more in this post, but I won’t. It will be much too long if I say anymore. It’s really up to what you like and the way you want to execute it. As a newer reader, I find that I like YA novels but gravitate to the grittier or mature ones. I dislike sex scenes, so the intimacy in YA is just enough for me. 

For my writing, I want to write a NA that can achieve what I like and in the way I enjoy it. In my reading endeavors, these past eight months, the Feverwake duology (my ever mentioned series...) has hit what I enjoy. While it is categorized as YA, the second book leans more toward NA and I love that. The way the author writes is also similar to the way I do, which is cool.

In the end, do what you love. Keep your audience in mind and remember that you don’t have to fit yourself into one genre. James Patterson wrote books for children and adults. Have I read any of his works? No, but I have family and friends who do enjoy or have enjoyed his work. You wanna write a book for your younger sibling? Do it. You want to write a book you need or want? Do it. You want to write a book that will make adults feel like children again? Do it. 

You’re the writer and write for a reason. Keep writing a passion, not a chore.

[Gif from Ouran High School Host Club]

[trickstermiraculous]

Siblings That Are Both Heroes But Only One Knows That Fact

Summary: Jason finally worked up the courage to see his sister again after coming back from the dead which means the bat family is going to Paris.

Marinette has been ladybug since she was thirteen and is now seventeen, she also just found out her brother is visiting her in Paris meaning Batman is going to be in Paris, meaning he and the rest of the league realise that Paris is in danger and it wasn't just a prank from bored teenagers.

Chapter One: My Brother Is Back From The Dead

Hawkmoth can go to hell

Does Not Get Paid Enough For This Shit: Adrien

Does Not Get Paid Enough For This Shit: Adrien

Does Not Get Paid Enough For This Shit: NOIR

I Swear I’m Not A Furry: It’s 5 am Mari

Does Not Get Paid Enough For This Shit: and?

I Swear I’m Not A Furry: and? I would like to have at least some sleep before I have to do a shoot with Lila

I Swear I’m Not A Furry: Before school

Does Not Get Paid Enough For This Shit: Right forgot about that

I Swear I’m Not A Furry: Yeah...now what did you need to tell me

Does Not Get Paid Enough For This Shit: My brother is alive

I Swear I’m Not A Furry: Jason, the one from Gotham, the second robin

Does Not Get Paid Enough For This Shit: Yep

Does Not Get Paid Enough For This Shit: although from what I can find online, he goes by the Red Hood

I Swear I’m Not A Furry: the crime boss

Does Not Get Paid Enough For This Shit: former crime boss

I Swear I’m Not A Furry: so you going to Gotham, what about Akumas?

Does Not Get Paid Enough For This Shit: They’re coming to Paris for the gala that’s tonight and they invited me and my parents

I Swear I’m Not A Furry: The gala that both Ladybug and Chat Noir have been hired as security for

Does Not Get Paid Enough For This Shit: I know, my parents already told them that I can’t go and that they were already going due to suppling the food

I Swear I’m Not A Furry: and they just accepted that?

Does Not Get Paid Enough For This Shit: they kind of had too since it was last minute but I get to see them tomorrow

I Swear I’m Not A Furry: cool cool

I Swear I’m Not A Furry: do you think they will link us to our hero IDs?

Does Not Get Paid Enough For This Shit: Paris hasn’t

I Swear I’m Not A Furry: well I have long hair as Chat Noir and green cat eyes

I Swear I’m Not A Furry: you have blue hair and blue eyes instead of black hair and brown eyes

I Swear I’m Not A Furry: and Paris seems to have lost most of its brain cells since Hawkmoth made his debut

I Swear I’m Not A Furry: whereas Batfamily are they best detectives in the WORLD

I Swear I’m Not A Furry: I don't think a hair cut and different colours are going to fool them

Does Not Get Paid Enough For This Shit: yeah well at least when they do we can tell them that we figured them out first

I Swear I’m Not A Furry: well you are related to one of the robins

Does Not Get Paid Enough For This Shit: They have the same number of family members as the bat family, they have funds to be heroes and Jason came back from the same time Red Hood was confirmed to be part of the bat family and there's a new batfamily member around the same time a new Wayne is announced

Does Not Get Paid Enough For This Shit: we would have figured it out even if I wasn’t

I Swear I’m Not A Furry: fair

I Swear I’m Not A Furry: anyway I pretty sure I hear Nathalie down the hall

Does Not Get Paid Enough For This Shit: see you at school, I’ll bring you food from the bakery

I Swear I’m Not A Furry: and this is why I love you

-------------------------------------------Chat Ended-----------------------------------------------

Marinette was lucky enough to make it school without spilling either her's or Adrien’s coffee and avoided Lila who seemed to be busy with telling her classmates about her latest charity work. Reaching her and Adrien’s desk at the back, she spotted Adrien who was already there and taking a small nap.

Placing the coffee down away from both of them, she tapped him on the head which cause his arm bolt towards her in order to nerve strike the person who woke him up (a trick they both learn from Marinette’s mother) but she had quick enough reflexes from being Ladybug to catch him.  “Watch it sunshine” Marinette stated as Adrien open his eyes to see who caught him, “or I’ll give this coffee to Lila”.

“By giving it to Lila, you mean spilling it on her” replied Adrien smiling as she passed one of the cups to him,

“Well everyone knows how clumsy I am” retorted Marinette smirking as she watched Adrien gulped down the coffee,

“True but I wouldn’t put it past her to sue you for coffee burns” Adrien started watching the rest of their classmates come in,

“Good Point” respond Marinette quietly sipping her coffee as she spotted both Lila and Alya walk in along with Miss Bustier.

Author’s Notes: This is going to be a story with the same kind of rules as my 'This is not a game' series but with a dc crossover and big brother Jason trope.

- The Akuma got more dangerous and have resulted in the heroes spilling blood. - The temporary heroes are only out during the day and only in attacks when Ladybug and Chat Noir know it's safe - Master Fu died in battle so Marinette is the guardian - Marinette's parents know about her being a hero - Marinette and Adrien know each other's identity but due to Chat Blanc and Gabriel's strict control on Adrien's life, it's a secret - Alya and the rest of the class (excluding Alix due to her being Bunnix) are completely on Lila side now - Marinette is an outcast along with Adrien (although Adrien treated better due to Lila wanting to date him

AO3

Wattpad

[soranihimawari]

Shatter continued

A story in several parts:

tw: reader chan’s sibling is a toxic force to be reckoned with; officers mentioned in later parts (civil servants for young adults); mentions of accidents and scarring [both emotional and physical]; young adult 18+ for strong and suggestive language

word count: 6.8 K 

tagging @oikawa-obvs​ @m0nstergeneration20xx​

the characters and other tie in works:

seijoh 4: oikawa, iwazumi, hanamaki, mattsun

spin off of the Running at 6a.m. feat. hanamaki and his s/o [plus s/o family]

Little side notes: mattsukawa issei means “it’s all right.” // fuyu no rairakku fuji means “my beautiful wisteria tree” // mitsuketa means “I have you”

Throughout this story, mattsun & q learn how important the actions of others does not define a set path.

Images based via Pinterest

Image 2 based off this post

<< Back

III

The day before you leave back to your side of the city, you tell your friend what has transpired between you and mattsun on movie night:

“That’s great! I knew he’d like you. They all do,” she says. “I mean, you did fall asleep next to him for a little while before they walked us home that night.” 

“Yeah, I know,” you reply. “I’ll be out with him all day…”

“You’re not going to know what hits you until it shows, Q.” 

“Life is not like the hallmark movie channel, Chise!” 

Your friend’s stubbornness and your counter argument came to a close when her aunt and uncle stepped in to act as a mediator between the two of you… 

“Your sister is coming to pick you up, Q,” her uncle informs you. The news was not a welcomed one at all; the blood in your veins ran cold. 

“What?! Uncle, you can’t be serious,” your friend states, wide eyed. “Q just got here…She can’t go back! Her sister is not right. Please recon—”

“There’s nothing we can do,” her aunt replies. She explains all the sound reasonings why. 

“How long do I have?” You wonder. Chise storms out of the room and when you hear her door shut, you inhale and exhale a deep breath silently counting down before you rationally think things through. You were gone for a total of four days & three nights; it takes about an hour or so for the train, but if your sister does a ride share, you have less than that. 

“She’s on her way, isn’t she?” Your voice betrayed your expression. 

“Yes,” you’ve never seen your friend’s uncle so abruptly twist in disgust. You know both he and his wife would try anything to help you, but considering how they presented the facts, it was going to be a losing battle.

Nodding, you thank them both for the news and the hospitality they offered, but you ask them to leave as politely as you can. You were seventeen years old when you realized that the hardest thing and right thing are not always the same.

IV

Your sister wasn’t always this way. She was the elder & you needed to listen to her. You were always like water, one with the moon & stars; she was like fire, warm and with enough energy to harbor the solar flares. She wasn’t always an unhappy brute; the accident that tore your family apart was the catastrophe which estranged you to this day. 

“What do you mean Q’s leaving?” Makki asks. He sits up hearing his girlfriend’s voice fall into a panic. 

“It’s an emergency; you know I told you about y/n’s relative right?” 

“Yeah. What’s wrong?”

“Takahiro, I’m worried for Q because that’s the one who’s coming to pick her up. She can’t go back to that house on a whim! Her sister might beat her up worse than before!”

“Stay where you are. I’m getting a hold of Iwazumi & Mattsun.”

“Mmk. Hurry because I don’t know what time that witch is arriving.”

—18:43—

“Call the authorities,” was what you hear your friend’s relative instructs. One of them has to keep the objective line of sight here and now all there is left to do is wait.

You stand outside your friends house with a dark expression. Your sister’s arrival meant you could try to fight, yet you knew words are just as damaging. You come face to face with her just as the boys arrive. 

“Come little sister,” she says. You don’t move. Your friend is behind you, but when the boys arrived she lets them in the side gate: Makki leads followed by Iwa, and finally Mattsun. Your friend fills them in and now they stand at the ready to help you if you need it.

“Q. Come now. Don’t make it anymore difficult than it has to be.”

“No.” Your voice is absolute. 

“No?” She sarcastically replied with a scoff. 

“Did I stutter?” You retort. Your friend and her family is on the porch watching this. 

“I don’t know what your game is, but this is a family affair…”

“Do not bring them into this mess,” you warn as you walk toward the spot on the lawn where your sister stands. There is a few feet of grass between you. 

“Enough,” she says in a menacing tone. “Quantum stop being foolish before I burn you and cast you out. Black sheep or not, you are my sister and you will do as I say.”

She takes out a lighter from her purse and one of the oldest journals you have. It was a tome you had since you started middle school.

“Burn it for all I care,” you spat. “Because as far as I am concerned, we are no longer family. You stopped being in mine before I started high school you bitch. Touch me again and I will make you regret finding me.” 

At this point, your teeth are bared and your voice is as even as it can me. You know there is truth in those words, but with your found family behind you, you have the higher ground. 

“Like hell little sister,” she spits. “I rather you drop dead and die because you are what makes me insane: this ends today.” 

You sister burns the book regardless. You stomp out the flames in time that a good portion of the damage book is scorched down to a delightful singe. You wonder how long your sister has been without her medication. The gargantuan illness does not leave her nor do you want to find out because the shadow of her hands comes into contact with your left side of your face. 

She leaves without batting an eye at you. Rather, you feel the residual sting of a slap across your face from a hand that is not your own. The sound is like a whip cracking in the wind.

“Mattsun, Iwazumi,” your friend’s face is pulled into Makki’s side where he whispers something in her ear, probably to watch you say the final nail in the coffin:

“You have no power over me; I am not afraid of you,” you defy her orders again. 

“You cheeky little shit,” your sister says before your fist makes direct contact with her face and when it knocks her to your left, you roundhouse kick her in the ribs thus knocking her wind out of her. 

“Did you know she could fight like that?” Makki asks. Your fist is unclenching because your wrath is unlike anything they’ve witnessed, sure Iwazumi smacks Oikawa with a volleyball, but when ther collectively see what you can do, they look at each other. Except Mattsun, he reads the situation and what you told him at the movie night the day before finally clicks.

I am not ready because I am not fully healed yet. I am left alone to deal with my own demons. Everyone has dragons to slay and for today that dragon is your sister. His thoughts are strung together, yet he sees what you mean in practice and honestly it explains your cynicism, your perception of what it means to have someone who is just as toxic and how they tried to break you. 

“Holy shit,” you clearly hear your friend gasp behind you when she pushes herself off of Makki. When your sister lands on the concrete border of the lawn, you don’t care to notice the winter wind whipping around your short locks. Your breathing is becoming more unstable, yet when you stand to inspect the damage done, you glance down with an oddly satisfying expression: You’re a survivor and you’d be damned if your sister thinks she could shatter you further. 

You pick your sister up by the collar until she is eye level with you. You whisper something in her ear which makes her furious: “Fuck you and the high horse you rode in on sister.” 

“Go,” your best friend says one word while Makki holds her back; Mattsukawa and Iwazumi sprint to where you are holding your sister and all that woman sees is red thereafter.

Her mouth lets out an in humane scream as she lunged forward, her hands have a vice grip on your exposed flash. You feel her nails dig and leave marks. The action carried through as hands reach for your neck to crush your windpipe. You know of the western saying “to choke on your words,” but you’d never thought of it being done physically.

As soon as this occurs, you notice your sister’s wrists are almost snapped by the sheer force Mattsukawa exerts in holding you from behind. Your gasping for air is by far one of the most horrifyingly haunting things he’s ever heard (and you all you can emote is telagraphing I am terrified. Don’t let me go). It takes you a moment to register that it is because you hear him breathe behind you.

“I got you,” Mattsun holds you; he holds you for as long he can to make sure you don’t slip on the residual frost on the lawn. He runs a hand through your hair calming you down further. Your hands are not by your side anymore, rather you feel them grasp on to his own. You close your eyes and he repeats those three words until your breathing and panic subsided.

This occurs while Iwazumi corners your sister and she leaves your friends’ property. Sirens wail in the distance and it doesn’t take very long for the authorities to take your sister into custody for verbal and physical abuse charges whereas you claim self-defense. It’s hard to talk currently, so you write it out on the report form. Makki and your best friend are filling out witness statements while Iwazumi is being checked out by one of the health officials right after you sign the report documents. Mattsun doesn’t leave your line of sight at all, for that you are grateful. Your knuckles have the suture glue on them aid the healing process. The EMT gives you a neosporin antiseptic for the scratches on yout face left behind from the slap your received from the guilty party already in the backseat of the squad car that had already left for the booking station in the west side of the neighborhood.

When the witness statements are done, you are asked to come to the precinct first thing in the morning for a secondary assessment for your wounds,but this is bypassed as soon as you mentioned your previous case serial numbers.

“She’s as lucky as they come,” one of the officers says in passing. “We’ve been trying to pin her relative’s location because of the fact this isn’t her sibling’s first attempt at attempted murder.”

“You did the right thing as soon as you called sir,” his partner praises your friend’s aunt and uncle. “That woman is a danger to herself and others. How did one sister’s grief spiral while the other chose to move forward is beyond me, but miss Q has some good people around her.”

“She’s our niece’s closest friend, so please make sure that woman has all ties cut with the victim,” you heard her uncle say.  “We’ll take her in, but please make the arrangements to have some of her things brought here before the holidays.”

“Understood sir,” the first officer says tilting his hat. “Ma’am, we’ll be going then. Good day.”

Iwazumi takes his leave shortly thereafter and reminds Makki to give you all some space. Mattsun asks if it’s ok to take you away for a couple of hours. You finish passing along the case files while this occurs. You’re not ready to talk about what just happened, but you find yourself ready to move past this ordeal. Families are different, yet your relationship with your sister is one of the worst after the story of biblical twins.

“Of course. Take her out for as long as she needs. You have my number, so text me later,” your friend says with a warm smile. She bops her head toward where you still stood basking in the frosty atmosphere. “Gods know she needs a break. Oh, and Mattsun?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.” She hugs hun quietly along with her uncle who lays a hand on his shoulder. Her aunt mentioned something about how they’re going to remodel the room you stayed in to a permanent one. ��She is family after all,” was the last thing he heard as the three of them went back inside their home.

On that note, Mattsukawa returns back to your side. He marvels at your new marks bestowed by what had transpired a couple hours ago. It’s nearly eight in the evening on a Tuesday night. Winter break has finally come, but here he notices you’re ok. Or rather, as ok as you make it seem.

“I should get you a bell,” your sense of humor is impeccable, but when the tears that never come do make their way known in other ways, you stop to turn your face back to the skies. You close your eyes thanking whatever lucky stars you have for having good people gravitate toward you; with one final breath, you return your focus back to your guard dog even if he towers over you with enough power to eclipse the graying skies. As he reaches for your hand, you know this is the first time he sees a glimpse of how much you shine. 

“It’s quiet now,” you said, returning your undivided attention to him. “Thank you.” 

The young middle blocker moves forward with you mentioning something along the lines of you had a date to keep. 

“Do you still want to go?” He asks you this to gage how you’d react. He doesn’t want you to over exert yourself, so when you say yes, he leads the way to one of the closer neighboring shopping plazas.

One trip to a tea shop down the street leads you and him to have a quaint seat by a window. The both of you talk like old friends. You don’t let the dread of what looms over you break you, you’ve been through worse and you’re not going to let anything happen to make him feel like that again. You could tell how frightened he really was earlier when he kept you in front of him on the lawn. You pour some more mango black tea into your cup. You know you two barely say much, yet an entire epic is laid out between you two.

Not a word is said because there is an definite understanding in the delicate exchange here. Mattsun sips his tea and as he learns you’re exhausted of fighting on your own. It dawns on you if given the chance stories about being wronged in the past leads you to be bound by love later on. Tell me you want to help me too, Mattsukawa.

“If you’ll have me, please let me be your kintsugi,” he places the dwarf tea cup down on its saucer. You sit across from him as the fluorescent lighting causes your eyes to flicker amusedly at his features. You rest your chin in your hand when he does this. 

“You don’t have to ask,” you reassure him. With your free hand, you hold one of his with residual heat. Why are you doing this? You like each other. Hell, he’s the one who made sure you’re alive. He’s amazingly kind, so what is stopping you? 

“I already run with you at six in morning. It’s plausible after--Mattsun? Hold on a sec. Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I like you,” Mattsun’s voice is as casual as he makes it seem. Don’t make me go through that again; I almost didn’t get the chance to show you how amazing you really are.

You see what he means behind those eyes of his. He’s honest, kind, and strong; almost like steel, but you’re just as strong like titanium. You work well together, you think. If this is what it feels to fall in like with someone, you’d proactively seek it every time from him until you learn how to love yourself for all parts of you. He has a subtle way of telling you he likes you. Acts of love and kindness aside, you want to cherish this setting, precisely because you live the way you tease him in a friendly manner. For a moment, the veil of winter’s shouldering dreariness stops. Your lips curl into a Cheshire’s grin. His heart nearly stops for the second time that day.

“I like you too,” you chuckle. “Who knew you were such a romantic at heart Mattsukawa?”

“You did.”

You nod. “I should have known. So, where would you like to take me now?”

After you two finish speaking at the teahouse, Mattsun escorts you toward another part of the same plaza. Your face illuminates in the refraction of the street lamps, your hands bump into each others whilst you walk the promenade.

There are no words exchanged because neither of you want to see each other with the image seared into your minds’ eye; his arms that evening were clicking on to your waist, his his center of gravity shifting so when he pulls your body backwards, you hear his voice reminding you he has you, you’re safe here. You nodding closing your eyes when his warmth emits a calming aura. You both ignore the subject, but you’re really fucking thankful to have him (along with the company you keep, each showing a different type of love from the international myths you loved to read): you both walk with the same thoughts that evening: Don’t scare me like that again, whatever you do, stay alive. We haven’t even seen what our story might look like. Just please, prove to me you’re still here; catch the fire from me to you and live.

Mattsukawa and you walk past a pillar and stop to take a glance at the community announcement boards. A few of the paper lanterns are already lit. The street lamps are beginning to hum.

“There’s a night market happening,” you read aloud, slowly, you feel yourself relaxing more into your surroundings. Your hand points to the sign and Mattsukawa notices the minute change in your behavior. You’re much more free and outgoing than before; you’re a winter’s tale and a dahlia, but he knows the flower thing might be a tad bit off, so he keeps that content to himself for now.

“We’ll take the others here later,” he informs you about thinking about how his classmates, especially Oikawa, would handle not coming.

“If you say so,” you reply. You both continue to walk and browse through the various shops, but when he takes you into one the art stores, you ask him to wait a moment to let other patrons walk in. He is perceptive enough to understand your feelings, so he does what he thinks is best: he reminds you you aren’t going inside alone. 

“I got you,” Mattsukawa repeats from earlier. “We’ll go inside whenever you’re ready. Does that sound fair to you?”

“...ok.”

“Do you want to go call it a day then?” 

The moment you nod, he walks at a quicken pace. Eventually you tell him to slow down when you pass by a neighboring plaza. This one was more serene than the last.

“What’s on your mind?” You ask you impromptu date. 

I’m learning to trust you a little more and I’m afraid of this continues, would you run from me? 

“Mattsukawa. Don’t overthink it,” your voice is unmistakably calm, yet it is driving him to let go and live a little; so you do. You let his hand go for a little while, and now you stand in front of him and you have a mischievous glint in them. 

Fuck it. I don’t care if you’re here for four days or four minutes. I am not running away from this, from you, and the possibility of you staying.

Mattsukawa tilts your face up with one of his fingers and when you feel his lips ghost over your own, you close the gap. First kisses in the winter are not rare, but the ambiance of being surrounded by the wisteria trees dyes the world into a violet haze. Love is not as fickle as you think. This one is different, you both relish in this display of affection. He breaks the kiss briefly, and to him, seeing you like this makes him finally understand the sentiment of seeing a whole universe in one person.

You stop him dead in his tracks because as soon as you feel Mattsukawa’s warmth leave your face, you understand how much he was holding back; you both were. His face is tinged a little bit flushed out slightly by the curious softened stare you give him. He wanted to see you worked up before, but he wasn’t expecting to see you act so hastily. You drag your bottom lip through your teeth before you sigh much to your own chagrin because you knew what he felt was true.

“Mmhm,” you’re driving him insane in this short game of stolen glances because he received no further warning when you pull his lips back on yours. Your hands traverse upward from where your hands initially were on his shoulders and eventually looping around his neck. There is a secret kindness you want him to have; he owns this part of you, the wild capricious love of the cold is gorgeously delightful. You’re ok even when he deepens this kiss and he draws this sounds of want and need from you the more you let him. You taste his love in the way your hands love to tousle his hair; you hear his chest rumble in amusement when he opens his mouth slightly teasing you with the residual taste of the tea from earlier. Don’t be afraid to fall, you muse.

Mattsukawa draws you in closer to him as he snakes one arm around the small of your back while the other hand he has used to tilt your face moves to your shoulder before finding solace on your neck. He lost a to the way you move your body and you both don’t succumb to each other’s prowess. What you both crave you found in each other. He dips you to one side like in those old movies you so love. You’re mine, my dear; irreplaceable and hopelessly in my loving arms. Safe you’ll always be.

You catch your breathing when you part, he places you back in a standstill position. You’re smiling together, like a firefly lamp in the summer, casting a halo ring around you two. A few of the flowers are blown away in the brief wind and apparently land all around scattered like gorgeous mosaics on the concrete. You turn your head slightly to hear his heart drum on; you tell him things via tracing the kanji on his shirt little messages like “future,” “brave,” “loyal,” “true,” etc. he chuckles because it tickles a bit, but he reminds you wildhearts can’t be broken so easily. You concur taking a deep breath, watching as your exhale leaves little pufts of moisture to dissipate in the air. He rests his head against your shoulder in a slight variation of an acknowledging bow; his breath tickles against the nape of your neck, his mouth teasingly nips at the midpoint of your ear.

“Fuyu no rairakku fuji,” he crowns you a new name; his lips press against your cheekbone. You grin at the new nickname.

“Mattsukawa Issei,” you remind him when you two begin walking again and he pauses dumbfounded by the tone you use. It dawns on him that perhaps his best friend’s girl told you his name in full. You return the wisteria name he bestowed upon you with a much simpler one for him. “Mitsuketa.”

— spring forward—

You wonder if he could remember that when you sleepover for the first time; you find out he can and does so the moment he lays you down on his bed to make you remember how being loved by him is going to leave you breathless one step at a time, and true to his word, his hands are sturdy.

This love is messy, but you enjoy every moment of being enamored by him. You don’t look back anymore, but forward when he calls your new name right as you pull him back toward you before you both ruin the sheets that support you. You place a hand over his chest to stabilize his figure over you. “Watashi no utsukushī fuji,” his voice has you defenseless the moment you humbly accept him as solely yours.

“My first love, come here,” your lips were always inviting toward him and he listens to the way you both praise each other while he brings your unscarred arm above your head; your scars are now inked with wild wisteria flowers he so affectionately called you a few months ago.

Luckily one of your case workers knew someone in Miyagi who does tattoos pro bono for victims of abuse survivors. Languid wisteria blossoms iluminate your arms under a blacklight, but the white ink outlines remain visible like small embroideries tying you to the blossom to ward off evil. The subject came about one evening during the routine cafe shoppe run with the boys and your best friend:

“All I’m saying is that if she wants it done, we know someone in Miyagi who can,” Makki reasons with your friend.

“I was thinking about it,” you speak up before your friend completes her ‘harrumph.’

The table falls quiet. “I was thinking of having the wisteria blooms cover the worse of it.”

“Wisteria, huh?” Oikawa asks. “I think that’s a good choice. Iwa-Chan! Let’s— ”

“No.” Honestly, when he found out what had transpired via the group chat with his friends, he nearly cut his family vacation short to fly back to check on you.

Instead, Iwazumi took over by sending him photos of both Makki and your best friend eating a crepe one night followed by one of you and Mattsukawa after he gifted you a wisteria branch necklace.

Presently, your hand coaxes Mattsukawa into leaving marks of his love blatantly across the exposed parts let him meet. The bruises his lips left behind are just as intoxicating as you remember.

“You’re still so daring,” his voice drowns out the pleasurable noise you let him hear.

“You’re~ahh~ staring,” your hands find their way to the collar of his half undone dress shirt. He pauses for a moment, smirking through his gaze when he envelopes you in his arms. Your hands are too quick when you unbutton the rest of his shirt. You’re wearing one of your old high school gym baseball shirts when you came over to visit for spring break. (The first time you sleep overnight was quite entertaining to say the least, but you both prove you’re capable of this sort of love too.) His hands move to coerce your legs slide over his thighs and here you sit, knees slightly bent and he has you where you both want to be.

Your breathing is ragged and labored as he kisses you slowly, hands slipping under your shirt.

“Please," your voice is barely above a whisper. One word was all he needed and fuck were you worth it. Mattsukawa assists you in pulling that fabric over your head before you push him down back on the bed. Your arms are cut around his shoulders for support as he picks up where his kisses left off. Your love bites haven’t fully disappeared yet from last time: bites across the mounds of your breasts are yellowing now; the ones over the inside of your thighs are still healing beautifully. His wisdom lurks in how well you handle his sexual desires with every time you consent to it. You both seek no other tangible means to prove how far you’ve come (with and without his help).

“You’re still pretty,” he says. He marvels at the fact you’re still with him in the present moment. Your hair is tangled in his hands and he beckons you to make him remember what you told him in the park one winters day.

“Mesmerizing me is what you do best,” your mouth haunts his own pulling out the lewd sounds of his satisfaction. He hisses as you return his favor; he holds you tighter until you are comfortable in his hold. Those eyes of his remain on yours because you told him the first time to keep his eyes forward.

“You’re really something else,” he groans as you bite the space in the space between his shoulder and neck. You don’t let him come undone without you a little less than an hour later; he makes good on his promise of always saying he got you and you return with remembering you have him. You ran with him every day at six in the morning for a solid year, but forgot that sexual escapades with him are more often a marathon than not. Eventually, you catch up to him, and the cycle begins anew with you. Mattsukawa is a fierce lover, but within the walls you share with him, he realizes you’re just as lethal as a jaguar in his bed.

Yes, love in the spring always came in waves for the outside world, it here, once the sheets were changed, you and Mattsukawa take care of each other first before he has your drowsy form (smelling like the rain) clean and clothed in just an old pajama top of his (he wears a pair of a different style sleep pant) he lays you down first before he climbs in with you.

Loving each other is never as messy as you heard from those around you. It’s only because you both let each other propel forward; your love is maddening since you and Mattsukawa are firm believers the shattering parts make you the most beautiful. So when you wake up in each other’s touch, his lips always trace over the sides of you where he loves you strongest, whistling the melodies that cause flowers to bloom.

End

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[sebastianshaw]

I'M HERE TO YELL ABOUT THE WEREMOLES AGAIN THEY'RE REALLY AMAZING AND INTERESTING AND UNIQUE AND I LOVE THEM

-While a lot of the other Changing Breeds all dislike each other for one reason or another, or at best just don't interact, the moldwarps actually had it in their laws to aid their cousins in their respective duties for which Gaia created each of them, but -- "Killing Sceatha with the Garou, allowing Ratkin to travel to Run’s End, or showing the Moldwarp Burrows to other Breeds’ Kinfolk all fall outside of the realms of acceptable aid." CLEARLY THE RATKIN DID SOMETHING LIKE I HAVE NO DOUBT THERE IS GOOD REASON FOR THAT RULE (the wererats are chaos incarnate and I love them) -k so there is basically a trinity of spirits in this setting, the Triat---the Wyld, the Weaver, the Wyrm. Generally speaking, everyone is fighting the Wyrm and sometimes also the Weaver. But the moldwarps seek true balance between all three. And there's a small group of them called Apes Redeemers who want to basically exorcise the Weaver AND Wyrm out of human beings--- "Redeemers take humans in direct service to the Weaver, or with strong behavioural traits in its favour, and attempt to cleanse them through a mixture of psychological abuse, isolation, and repurposed rites. Freethinking Moldwarps shun this Hill’s ideals as quite beyond the pale, but Redeemers hold up examples of humans who have been forced into bestial states of primitive regression, the Weaver’s hold utterly stripped away, as evidence that their methods are in fact effective." (The Weaver is like...organization, society, technology, tools, etc. Normal humans are very much Weaver creatures.) - AW BUT THERE ARE ALSO PLAGUE DOCTOR MOLDWARPS WHO GO TO DISEASE RIDDEN AREAS TO TREAT PEOPLE - In addition to being the jailers of Gaia, they are also the undertakers, burying the dead of other creatures - There are different “Warrens” or types of weremole, based on their role in weremole society and the jobs they have. Most notable to me are the Cleansers and the Wardens. Cleansers “strive to emulate the motherly aspect of Gaia in all that they do. Calm and considerate, their lot is to cure the fallen, correcting their spiritual bearing and keeping them healthy during their stay in the Den. Sadly, despite their caring natures, Cleansers make for arguably the worst weremoles to act as the face of a Sett while interacting with other Fera. Speaking of tainted beings as patients needing treatment wins few friends in the wider shapeshifter community, and Cleansers find it difficult to adjust to the more punitive mindset broadly shared by most Fera.” “ They act as their communities’ confidants and carers, conduits for the worries, stresses, and strains which would otherwise hinder important work” “ Passionate and creative both in conflict and at peace, Cleansers tend to the Burrows’ feeding, nursing, and childrearing tasks outside of their main duties” “ Most Cleansers adopt a calm and measured persona following their Vision Crawl, and are incredibly difficult to infuriate.” Whereas the Wardens are “the closest thing a Burrow has to a standing force of warriors” and “the least empathic of all Warrens. Where Cleansers are the good cops, the Wardens are their counterparts, expected to keep Sceatha in line by any means necessary for them to be successfully rehabilitated. They embody force, conviction, and authority, and are granted Gifts which reflect such qualities in order to contain and recover the corrupted.” “ these Moles are tough, courageous, and stoic. These qualities are much called upon, for it is their burden to contain, monitor, and protect Sceatha held in captivity” “ Wardens embody intimidation, conviction, and authority in every action they take. This can sometimes be expressed with the exciting encouragement of an elder sibling, the sternness of a loving parent, or the detached professional attitudes of their human namesakes.” There are others, like Trackers and Diggers and Architects, but those are more concerned with burrowing tunnels or simply finding/retrieving Sceatha (Wyrm-tainted or otherwise corrupt creatures in need of healing/rehabilitation) rather than actually guarding and treating them, so they’re of less interest to me. The Diggers do also make tunnels in the Umbra, which is the spirit world, which is a pretty cool concept. - Their Homid (human) forms are as wonderfully unglamorous as moles themselves-- “ usually naturally heavy, with excessive body hair and poor eyesight. Their hands and feet are often disproportionately large compared to their small stature and otherwise short limbs, but for these physical shortfalls they make up with greater levels of strength, health, smell, hearing, and directional coordination” A far cry from the ridiculously sexy werewolf boyfriends of paranormal romance fiction. Love it. They also typically have jobs in sanitation or rehabilitation-- “ These individuals find employment as city planners, prison guards and wardens, subway and sewer maintenance operatives, and similar jobs focused around organisation, rehabilitation, and the conservation of resources both material and human. It’s a rare occurrence that an up-and-coming track athlete or singer enters the Vision Crawl.” Again, love it. - Their Crinos form (the hybrid form or “war form”) is HORRIFYING-- “ a large amalgamation of mole and human standing at 7 feet tall and over 80 stone in weight, a hunched monster which could never exist in the natural order of the surface world [. . .] twisted faces and sightless eyes [. . .] Knife-like teeth protrude along the length of their muzzles and shovelling claws grow from each clubbed hand” - Most wereanimals are weak to silver. Some varieties are weak to gold. But weremoles are weak to obsidian and other black gems. - Unlike most wereanimals, moldwarps can become vampires, and these unfortunate creatures are called The Baogane, also known as Bugbears. They are the saddest things I have ever heard of. “ The existence of a Baogane poses burning questions to her Sett. Should she receive an honourable Final Death and be given over to Gaia? Should she be put through arduous cleansing in the small hope it works? Or, more dubiously, should she be allowed to serve the Burrow eternally? Setts who are unfortunate enough to lose one of their own to a Leech make their own decisions on what to do with their fallen kin.” “ Baoganes look similar to how they did in life, save for their fangs being unnaturally long even for vampires. In Crinos form, these fangs splay out either side of their face to resemble the curved tusks of a boar, and sometimes punch through the flesh of their gums and lips. The fur of all forms - even Homid hair - becomes permanently sharp, coarse, and patchy, again similar to that of a boar.” “ Soil does not merely cling to the fur and skin of a Bugbear as it would to any other subterranean creature, but latches on with supernatural power, reflecting the earth’s desire to see such a monster dead and buried. Over the space of but a few nights, the Moldwarp may become so covered in filth and earthen debris that her size and shape cannot be discerned.” “ Baoganes often spend their unlives trapped within cleansing chambers, awaiting rehabilitation that may never come without their much-sought-after destruction. Many are granted the Thing of Salvation, though some willing penitents are denied even that.” The “Thing of Salvation” of course, is final death. The weremoles call very important ceremonies or celebrations, Things. Thing of Deliverance, Thing of the Hill, etc. - I honestly can’t overstate how new and crazy it is they wish to rehabilitate the Wyrm-tainted and save the Wyrm itself. For DECADES the entire point of this game has been FUCK UP THE WYRM’S SHIT. The Wyrm has always been the ultimate evil, even more so than the Weaver who is technically the one at fault for it going crazy, and EVERY wereanimal has had “destroy the Wyrm’s servants” in their own laws. And yet in the weremole’s laws, you’re NOT allowed to kill Sceatha unless your own life is threatened---” Sceatha are not of sound mind and so do not deserve unnecessary harm, irrespective of their most vile actions; only once they are cured are they to be judged as independent beings by the rest of the world. If that judgment is death, then they must be returned to Gaia without delay. Destroying befouled artefacts out of hand, meanwhile, is wasteful and disrespectful of their already-violated spirits.” Like this is just...so out of line from EVERY OTHER WERECREATURE it’s WILD, and it’s no wonder all the other critters are distrustful of them AT BEST. - So, Run’s End, that place they don’t ever let the Ratkin go? It sounds AMAZING, like so beautiful and spooky. It’s this realm “where death and decay occur, but peacefully and purely. This peace, however, is maintained only by the avid cleansing of its space by high-ranking Moldwarps, making it a nigh-impenetrable refuge of solemn deathliness suspended between zones of total corruption. Only by travelling along the Run, or traversing the turbulent dimensions held up by Run’s End to eventually find a border between worlds, may a being enter this place of pure, tranquil death. All is not quite as it should be, of course, for vicious battles constantly rage at the borders of Run’s End” “ The geography of Run’s End is reminiscent of an ancient Mayan jungle, at the heart of which stands a colossal obsidian temple to the Balance Wyrm, the structure in which the Lord of the Run resides beside his High Scrivein, Sanctus, and Thegn. This temple, the Body of Death, plays host to any great debate waged by high-Ranking Moldwarps, including each and every Althing. Around the Body of Death stretches the Fungal Forest, with mycelial growths a hundred metres tall stretching as far as the eye can see, generating natural luminescences of deep purple, dark red, and ochre green. From the unseen roof of the realm slowly descend all manner of remains - of humans, animals, plants, and even concepts, hopes, and dreams long forgotten - like snowflakes, landing gently atop the fungal canopy to be slowly digested. A fine film of red, brown, and green covers the undergrowth, having seeped down from the mushroom caps high above. Amongst these fungi are found equally decomposed but animate carrion beasts of all varieties lapping up the rotting fluids: insects, corvids, and Consumer Worms as long and thick as oak trunks winding amongst the mushroom stumps, soaking in the decay Despite its dire aspect, the fear of death for any being present in the Fungal Forest is simply absent; the fact that death comes for all is readily apparent, but comes as a comfort. Though not part of the Underworld proper, the Forest is a manifestation of final rest. From the gentle dripping of corpse-fluid to the slow undulation of the Consumer Worms, there is no violation or undue destruction in this Forest, only the equalising end of all things. Indeed, all beings who enter Run’s End begin decaying almost immediately; only those with some form of supernatural regeneration, or whose protection has been specifically petitioned for, may withstand it. Equally, the Body of Death allows only full-blooded Moldwarps to enter, with instant death and rapid decomposition coming to all others. At the Obsidian Reach, young and old Moldwarps alike dig to find something that they believe will bring them renown and acclaim, with no actual promise that anything lies beneath. The Obsidian Reach was actually discovered by the Gazers of the Deep during their very first visit. The Reach is infinitely high and wide and consists of solid obsidian, which naturally is almost unbreakable by Moldwarp standards. The stone itself bears the scratch marks and gouges of generations of claws trying to breach its shell. Beyond the stone’s infinite blackness, it has been told, are beings swept up in a storm mocking those who try to reach them, lands of shining cyclopean architecture, and even the resting bodies of mighty but unborn giants. Such claims are overlooked by all but the Gazers, but this does not prevent adventurers from ceaselessly trying to breach this inky vault.” LIKE THIS IS SO EERIE AND UNNERVING AND YET STRANGELY LOVELY AND SOOTHING TO ME? I AM REALLY LOVING MOLDWARP LORE

[pffbts]

(header by me)

―GENRE: fluff; angst.

―CHARACTERS: kim taehyung x female reader | special appearance: tannie.

―W.C: 1.8K

―AUTHOR`S NOTE: i`ve stopped writing for a long time (around 3 months), especially when it comes to longer pieces like this but it is the birthday of the love of my life. i couldn`t miss this opportunity to write something special for him even though i`m still busy with my college. i hope you who`ll be reading this, be happy and enjoy this little piece of my attempt at making a present for my love. a very happy new year to you guys and a very happy 24th to my winter bear, my love, my only one.  

[00:01 AM] [the coolness still lurks even though warm beings surround someone calling it a new beginning]

―with the most curious and detective-like eyes, tannie stared at your face even though you were just lying there, on the wooden floor right beside the small fireplace taehyung has lit just for you. your eyes remained close but your instinct could catch the spark of curiosity shooting from the pet`s eyes.

you raise your arm in the air and with slight guess here and there find the furry head of tannie. digging your fingers right through his fur, you pamper him. tannie seemed to enjoy this because you have always been the type to caress his head as if he`s a human child and not just a dog.

“hmm, someone`s taking my spot.” taehyung`s deep voice booms through the room and a smile gives birth to itself on your mouth before you open your previously closed eyes. you lift up your head a little to find your best friend placing two red cups of cola and two big bowls of chips on the table in front of the couch a little far away from the fireplace. you were technically lying down in a place in-between the table and the fireplace with tannie now moving closer to your face and on his feet to attack you with his love licks.

“hmmm, someone`s jealous.” you bicker back, now holding tannie with both hands and rubbing his little nose with yours. “but i love my tannie the most, right?” you ask the doggo and he proceeds to move his face closer to your neck and just buries himself. maybe he got a little shy, you thought.

“of course, i`m jealous. i`m an honest person, you see.” taehyung says.

the exact word is blunt, too blunt, you corrected him in your head.

“what about the pizza?” you ask diverting his sudden confession.

“oh i`m heating it up right now,” taehyung points at the kitchen behind him while he now stands behind the couch. the walls of his house is too thick for your ears to hear the sound of the microvan being on, “by the way, are you planning to stay in? i can fix some blankets for you. it`s gotten quite cold these days―”

“nah i`m leaving after 10.” you stop him mid-sentence and answer him back with a curt voice.

taehyung`s previously lit up face lost its glow and he replied with just an “oh.”

“yeah, i feel really tired. i just came to meet you because i was in the town and you,” pointing your forefinger at your friend, you continued, “are never at home, dude. you`re like always out and about doing your own stuff.”

taehyung raises both of his hands above his head and accepts the defeat, “sorry, but my schedules been too tight these days. i can`t help it,” mid-words, he moves back into the kitchen to bring in the now heated pizza and places it quickly on the table, “because my boss will think i`m being lazy cause it`s winter now.”

you shift from your place on the floor. tannie proceeds to make himself at home on your lap but you shake your head at him and pick him up in your arms and move back to the other end of the couch while taehyung places himself on the opposite end of it.

“you know how i get lazy during winter, right?”

“yeah.” you hum back acting over-bored.

“what`s up with you? are you feeling okay?” taehyung leans a little closer and tries to probably decipher what`s going on in you, “oh wait, do you need a blanket? shoot! i should`ve brought a blanket―”

“taehyung, stop! i`m okay,” you laugh at him, “i`m wearing socks and tannie is here to warm me up.” you move your face closer to tannie`s face who is currently lying on your lap, “right tannie?”

you only get a woof for a reply whereas taehyung moves back to his place and bites onto a chip.

taehyung moved his eyes above to check the time and it read 10:15 PM. the human beside him has already made herself at home along with the dog who actually belongs to the same home.

“wasn`t she planning to go by 10?” taehyung wondered. “guess, she felt too tired and just fell asleep unconsciously.”

taehyung proceeded to move all the empty bowls from the table now, along with the cups and the empty pizza box. he cleaned the place around the couch a bit and brought in the warmest spare blanket he could find from his closet and covered you with it. the dog is currently on the carpeted floor, snoring softly along with you.

as he placed the blanket down your chin, taehyung`s eyes shifted onto your face. he was suddenly filled with an unknown warmth he couldn`t recall any time before this night. the calmness on your face, the way you slept with your mouth slightly open. taehyung giggled softly, his sound unheard. he moved the spare strand of your hair from your face and moved them over your forehead and poked the tip of your nose softly just to tease your unconscious self.

he could stay like this all night and nothing will change. in-between both of you there stands a big thin wall. some unrequited feelings and some unsaid words, taehyung sighed softly. right now everything that he did, every little gesture, every little action, everything came out into its mildest form. it was as if you`re the most sensitive thing in this world right at this moment. taehyung couldn`t differentiate if it was him who was being vulnerable right now or you.

he left the decision in fate`s hand. usually, he would be getting ready for his bed but he knows as 12`o clock hits, his phone is going to get flooded with texts from his parents, his siblings, his close friends and every associates. after all, it`s his birthday in a―on reflex, his head moves to look at the clock again―it`s almost 11:30 P.M now.

he sighs to himself and gets up from his crouched form beside the couch where you are currently sleeping peacefully.

he keeps only the dim light of the lamp beside the couch on while switching off all the others in the living room. taehyung moves into his room and walks a little faster to his bed, tiredness climbing onto him like a snake.

as his head hits his soft pillow, taehyung closes his eyes for a brief moment only to open them again and stare back at the dim ceiling now. he felt impatient and sad and also a bit disappointed with the fact that you must have forgotten his birthday. it wasn`t usual because since high school, you both have been away from each other a lot more times than ever. but you would always try to make it up to him by sending a text over the phone or like a late birthday gift along with the new year greetings in the mail.

obviously, when he saw you at his doorstep this afternoon with a big size pizza box and a large bottle of cola, he thought you must have come here to celebrate his birthday with him but sadly, you seemed distant today. he didn`t exactly blame you though because it`s sure been a long time since both of you been face to face with each other.

but he was still hoping for something. he was still hoping for that one moment to come while you both sat there eating your pizza that you would pull out a prank on him and wish him an early birthday. it even bothered him that you will probably regret sleeping in when you wake up next morning when you had initially decided to leave his house by 10 P.M.

heavy, undecided thoughts brought in tiredness that taehyung didn`t know he had inside him. further, this results in him dozing off in the dreamland not knowing what might happen next morning.

sure, it`s too cold these days. sure, he had a good blanket over his body but for some reason, he felt a lot warmer. no, not warm―hot, he was feeling extremely hot and especially around his shoulder region, to exactly point it out, the place right under his left ear.

accumulating with the hotness came a sudden heaviness, maybe it was the weight of the blanket that was making it uneasy for his chest to carry the heaviness―or wait, is tannie on top of him right now?

taehyung was about to open his eyes when he feels a human hand on top his right cheek―the hand was cold, small and soft.

“happy birthday, winter bear.”

taehyung`s eyes flew open in an instant and he finds half of your body dangling from the bed and half on top his chest, your nose against the side of his throat and your small giggles like lofi music in his ear.

maybe he was completely wrong again. maybe he keeps losing trust in you because of the fact that distance keeps coming in-between both of you and he just doesn`t know if you still see him as one of your good friends.

taehyung felt like crying as he moves his face towards his right only to catch that the digital clock read 00:01 AM. his face breaks into a smile as he ruffles the back of your head.

“you`re one minute late, beautiful.”

“stop flirting. let me sleep.” you mumble back, your voice still mingled with slumber. “oh and your gift is under your bed, it`s the tie you loved window shopping when we used to walk back home from school. i remembered the pattern, drew a rough sketch of it and sent it to the best store in my city so like i custom made it for you. wear it at my birthday, okay?” 

“you did what―”

your forefinger flies on top of his mouth and remains there pressed against the creases as you drift off to sleep while taehyung pulls your hand away from his smiling mouth only to place a kiss above the cold knuckles of your hand.

fin.

[secret-keeper18]

I’m Gay - Eugene Lee Yanga

An analysis by a bisexual asian dancer

In honor of pride month, Eugene Lee Yang has gifted us this beautiful work of cinematic and choreographic art. First off, congratulations to Eugene for officially coming out in this video. It was beautiful, it was bold, and most amazingly, it was so incredibly brave. Secondly, if you haven’t seen the video yet, PLEASE DO!!! Thirdly, the video is also in collaboration with the Trevor Project, a free suicide hotline for LGBTQ+ youth, so please please PLEASE if you can go support it.

Scene 1 - Family

Starting with the beginning of the video, the camera pans back showing Eugene and four others. The women are looking one way, the men are looking the other, and Eugene stares dead in the center.

These people are representative of a family, and later go on to represent the impact of gender roles and familial influence on Eugene’s life. In addition, the men are both wearing suits and the women wearing dresses and high heels (though not shown in this picture), fitting the societal gender norms for dressing. Eugene, however, is not only wearing red, which stands out in great contrast to the plain black of the family, but is wearing a flowy dress/robe.

The mother is seen on the right, putting on lipstick and crossing her legs, representing the traditionally feminine actions and role. Eugene, the brother, and the sister, imitate this behavior, as children often do. Then, the father is shown, legs spread, drinking alcohol, yelling, pounding his fist violently. The children also initate his behavior, as children have little concept of feminine vs. masculine roles until taught that way by society.

During this time, when children are impressionable and learn by copying behaviors, the parents separate the children by gender. The mother takes the daughter, and teaches her. They do the movement together, while the father and the brother do different choreography in the background. The women’s movement is lighter, more indirect, while the men’s are far more masculine. The men’s movements are direct and more grounded, crossing their arms and taking strong steps, almost as if they were marching. However, Eugene clearly prefers to follow his mother and sister’s movements, immediately joining in.

When he attempts to put on lipstick as his mother had, the father knocks it out of his hand and slaps him on the head. Most heartbreakingly, the brother watches, observes the consequences that comes with acting like their mother and sister instead of their father, and follows him. This is representative of how something like this is such a common practice, enforcing gender roles in a family by simply pairing actions such as following the traditionally feminine roles with punishment and reprimand. Finally, Eugene follows with their movement, transitioning into the next scene.

Scene 2 - Church

The first thing we see are two lines of people, marching together. Marching in such a way usually denotes military, uniform. It is clear the message here: stay in line, don’t make waves, be just like everyone else. Eugene follows, but begins to add his own spin to the movement until he finally is doing something completely different from what everyone else is doing. Everyone else continues dancing together, even covering their eyes at some point and blindly following each other to the pews while Eugene keeps his eyes and arms open. However, someone comes to him and physically fixes his movements, changing and shaping him until he is doing the same thing as everyone else. His movement up until here is free and strong, whereas when it is fixed to follow everyone else, changes the quality of the movement to be bound and the energy and power that he initially was putting in to become dulled. Their willful closing of the eyes is meant to represent closemindedness, and the setting of the church is a clear message of his experience. Religion was a toxic subject for him, its closemindedness and hatred and bigotry hurt him as he fought to break out of the uniform.

This is when something happens. The people are all wearing neutral colors, until suddenly, the man standing at the podium begins gesturing angrily, clearly yelling and spewing hatred. The man, and the side of the pews that begin getting riled up and yelling back in agreement, all suddenly are wearing white. However, the side where Eugene is sitting is wearing all black, and they are in agreement with the people in white. In fact, Eugene turns his head to look at the others, and their heads are bowed, their eyes lowered.

Scene 3 - Relationships

This is a clear timeskip from the family and church scenes, from childhood and teenager/young adult years. He turns and sees a woman dancing. The music here turns from strong and quick to softer, with a piano melody rather than electronic to convey a romantic tone. Eugene stands up and begins dancing with her. Their movement is smooth and free, their partnering work equal and balanced.

There is a genuine appreciation on Eugene’s end for her, something that does not change even when he turns again to find a man dancing. He is dancing just as beautifully and gracefully, and Eugene steps in to perform similar partnering movements with the same anount of ease. The woman joins in, and does her own movements traveling while Eugene and the man do the same choreography, differing from her own. In fact, this time, Eugene is the one being lifted, rather than the other way around.

When they finish the sequence, Eugene takes a moment to embrace the woman, before turning back to the man, and the woman departs, clearly still on amicable terms. I think what is beautiful here is the truly genuine attraction he had toward her, and it is evident in their flawless partner work and appreciative expressions when they look at each other one final time before Eugene turns back to the man. A truly “Thank You, Next” sort of a feeling. The seamless transition into him twirling the man and the man lowering him down on top of him was beautiful and such a powerful sight for me, seeing the joy in their faces before the scene once again is swept away into the next phase of Eugene’s life.

Scene 4 - Drag

Eugene has done a good few videos on drag and how important it is to him, and he can speak about the subject with far more authority than myself, so I’m going to keep this scene relatively short.

One of the clearest differences in this scene is he sheer amount of color in this. From the purposeful placement rainbows, it is clear that color was an incredibly important aspect to include in this video. The contrast from the black and white from the first two scenes is so evident. This and scene 3 is clearly the beginning of the parts of his life that began to literally bring color into his life.

He begins interacting with people, smiling widely and truly enjoying spending time with these people as he joins the crowd of bright and colorfully-clad individuals. Not one of them looks the same or even dances the same to another, an important distinction to the movement characteristic to the church scene.

Then, the camera focuses on someone approaching the group. Most obvious about him is his attire- white shirt and blue jeans, the same outfit from the hateful group in the church scene. This is the most transparent part of the video, as the man raises his hand in a gun symbol and the people around Eugene begin to fall.

It is a symbol of how hatred takes lives through both murder and suicide.

Eugene reaches out desperately, but hands reach up and literally drag him down. Once again, the people in white pull and beat him down, transitioning into the next scene.

Scene 5 - Finale

What I find most interesting about this is the total change in costuming and color from the previous scene. In this scene, he is stripped of his clothing, accessories, and make up. Anything that did not fit society’s expectation of remotely masculine is gone, leaving only a pair of misfiting jeans. It is after the crowd of those in white leaves, when the family from the first scene reappear. This time, the parents are in white, while the siblings are in black. It hurts, knowing that the parents, the people expected to love you unconditionally, are amongst those who hurt you. The siblings, who are dressed in black, take Eugene’s hand and help him stand again, pulling the parents away from hurting him anymore.

However, after he is beaten down, he once again rises, this time clad in royal blue, sharp make up, and slick backed hair. He strides toward the camera, determinedly persevering despite those pushing and shoving around him, trying to knock him down. The crowd is a mox of people in white and people in black, all trying to either hurt or aid him. The contrast between the gently touchss of the people in black and the angry shoves from the people in white is evident. Eugene makes it past the crowd, remaining steelfaced despite the anger and fighting going on behind him. The music builds and builds, swelling as he stands with his head held high and sway from the crowd. The camera pans in closer to his face as people continue to argur behind him.

The music cuts out, and the only audio accompanying the sight of Eugene’s expression is that of the angry crowd’s arguing and yelling. The scene ends with a close up of Eugene’s face, a mix of emotions as he attempts to steel his expression against the pain, trying to remain stoic despite the clamor in his ears and the hatred undoubtedly being strewn about just behind him. The resignation to his obligation, to remain strong even when there are those trying to pull him down, is clear in his eyes as he tightens his jaw and stares directly into the camera, purposely ignoring the chaos in the background.

Conclusion

This is truly an amazing work of art, from the choreography, to the music, to the costuming, to the story being told. Eugene’s ability to tell this story, his story, in such a manner is simply a work of creative genius. There is just so much emotion portrayed in a single scene, representative through dance and acting that gets his point across in such a clear yet artistic manner. His conveying of his struggles and triumphs was breathtaking.

A few extra notes worth appreciating that I couldn’t quite manage to slip in.

1. The casting of actual asians in a dance role. Honestly brought tears to my eyes.

2. The athleticism it takes to pull off some of this choreo, specifically in the third scene. The partnering work was just gorgeous and the choreography so beautifully told the story with absolutely zero need for words.

3. Eugene has not really kept his sexuality a secret before, but recognizing the importance of “coming out” especially at this time of year and through such a creative medium is truly commendable. No matter how many times you come out, it’s scary, especially at such a large scale.

4. Eugene has always been known as the stoic one of the Try Guys, so for him to be putting himself and his art (as they are essentially one and he same) out there in such a vulnerable manner is amazing, and I don’t think a lot of us are as brave as this.

5. On a devastatingly personal note, this video meant so much to me. Growing up, there was no lgbtq+ representation in media, much less non-white, Asian lgbtq+ representation. The medium in which this is portrayed is so close to my heart, too, as I’d spent four years in a dance program where I would analyze dance shows and videos such as this one. It was terrifyingly easy to relate to, but one I so desperately hope many others find light in as well.

Please share the video and encourage others to donate to the Trevor Project! I wrote this in the few hours after the video came out so there are undoubtedly things I’ve missed, so please feel free to add your own interpretations or things you’ve noticed/what this video meant to you.

Thank you, Eugene, and Happy Pride Month❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

[sciencespies]

Fifty Years Ago, Satchel Paige Brought the Negro Leagues to Baseball's Hall of Fame

https://sciencespies.com/history/fifty-years-ago-satchel-paige-brought-the-negro-leagues-to-baseballs-hall-of-fame/

Fifty Years Ago, Satchel Paige Brought the Negro Leagues to Baseball's Hall of Fame

Eyewitnesses said that Satchel Paige, one of the best pitchers baseball will ever see, would tell his teammates to sit on the field, so confident that he’d strike out the batter on his own.

The right-handed ace’s showmanship was backed up by the remarkable athletic ability on display with his deadly accurate fastball. Over an estimated 2,600 innings pitched, Paige registered more than 200 wins and, impressively, more than 2,100 strikeouts. And those numbers are incomplete—many of his games, having been played in the Negro Leagues, going unrecorded.

“Satchel was pitching in a way if, just based on his performance as a pitcher, he would’ve ranked as one of the all-time greats, if not the greatest,” says Larry Tye, author of the 2009 biography Satchel: The Life and Times of an American Legend.

For 20 years after he more-or-less hung up his cleats, however, the National Baseball Hall of Fame, where baseball greats from Babe Ruth to Walter Johnson were enshrined, ​ didn’t have room for Paige or any other Negro Leaguers. Because it was a different league, segregated from the majors solely by race, the Hall hadn’t even considered its players eligible for induction. But in 1971, the Cooperstown, New York, institution finally began to recognize the accomplishments of players whose case for greatness rested on their performance in the Negro Leagues, starting with Paige.

Paige reclines in an easy chair in the St. Louis Browns’ bullpen on June 28, 1952. Team president Bill Veeck, who was known for wacky publicity stunts, purchased the chair for Paige, who was already in his mid-forties.

(Bettmann / Getty Images)

A native of Mobile, Alabama, Leroy Paige was born in 1906 and grew up with 11 siblings. Given the nickname “Satchel” for a contraption he made for carrying passengers’ bags at a local train station, he found his talent for baseball at a correctional school.

At 18, he joined the Mobile Tigers, a black semi-professional team. No stranger to barnstorming—the practice of teams traveling across the country to play exhibition matches—Paige debuted in the Negro Leagues in 1926 for the Chattanooga Black Lookouts. Among the teams he played for were the Birmingham Black Barons, the Baltimore Black Sox, the Pittsburgh Crawfords (surrounded by other legends, including Josh Gibson and Cool Papa Bell), and the Kansas City Monarchs. Paige won four Negro American League pennants with the Monarchs from 1940 to 1946.

Paige was far from the only phenom in the Negro Leagues. Gibson was a monumental power hitter; Oscar Charleston played a gritty, all-around game; and Bell was known for his beyond-human speed, just to name a few. But when it came to star quality, Paige possibly surpasses them all.

Satchel Paige (back row, second from left) posing with the Pittsburgh Crawfords at their spring training site at Hot Springs, Arkansas, in 1932. Pittsburgh was one of several Negro League teams that Paige would play for during his career.

(Mark Rucker / Transcendental Graphics via Getty Images)

“He’s probably the biggest drawing card in the history of the Negro Leagues,” says Erik Strohl, vice president of exhibitions and collections at the Hall of Fame.

Legend surrounds Paige with stories of his remarkable feats, and some of it was even self-produced: He kept track of his own statistics and the numbers he would provide to others were astounding, if not sometimes inconsistent. While a lack of written accounts at many of his pitching performances has created issues of veracity, the confirmed information available still suggests that his accomplishments are befitting of his prestige.

“When you say that he is a legend and one of the greatest players of all time, it may seem like an exaggeration,” says Strohl, “and it’s hard to quantify and qualify, but I think probably, undoubtedly that was true in terms of the length and swath of his career.”

“He had great speed, but tremendous control,” says historian Donald Spivey, author of the 2013 book If You Were Only White: The Life of Leroy “Satchel” Paige. “That was the key to his success,” he adds, which paired with Paige’s ability to identify batters’ weaknesses from their pitching stances.

Spivey says that Paige’s prestige was a boon even for his opponents, as crowds would flock to the games where he was pitching. “The man was a tremendous drawing card,” he notes. He earned a reputation for jumping from one team to the next, depending on who offered the most money.

“He got away with it because he was so reliable,” says Tye. “He gave you the ability to draw in fans.

Not unlike other talented Negro Leaguers of the era, Paige wanted an opportunity with the MLB. Midway through the 1948 season, he got his chance when he signed with the Cleveland Indians. He was certainly an atypical “rookie”, entering the league when he was 42 after more than 20 years of Negro League competition (Jackie Robinson, for comparison, joined the Brooklyn Dodgers in 1947 when he was 28.) Paige managed to make his time count: he won six games amid a tense battle for the American League pennant, and Cleveland went on to take both the pennant and the World Series victory.

Though his debut MLB season was successful, he spent just one more year with the Indians in 1949 before joining the St. Louis Browns in 1951. Following a three-year stint with St. Louis, Paige’s career in the MLB appeared over. However, he continued playing baseball in other leagues, and still found a way to make a brief one-game, three-inning appearance with the Kansas City Athletics in 1965 at the age of 59, not giving up a single run.

Paige’s time in Major League Baseball was impressive for a player entering the league in their 40s, asserts Phil S. Dixon, author of multiple books about the Negro Leagues.

“He also helped those teams because people wanted to see Satchel Paige,” Dixon says. “Not only was he a decent pitcher, he was an amazing draw.”

The Negro Leagues were both the stage at which Paige dazzled audiences for years on end, and the mark of a barrier separating him and other black players from baseball’s biggest stage for years. That barrier would, for a time, be perpetuated by the Hall of Fame.

Commissioner Bowie Kuhn (front row, center) meets with the new committee established to nominate Negro League players to the Hall of Fame at his office on February 4, 1971. Among the members is sportswriter Sam Lacy (back, center).

(Charles Ruppmann / NY Daily News via Getty Images)

Despite the impact that the Negro Leagues had on baseball and American culture, by the 1960s, just two players associated with them had been recognized as Hall of Famers. Robinson was the first black player inducted, in 1962, and seven years later his former teammate Roy Campanella joined him. The two had achieved entry off the merits of their MLB careers, however, whereas icons like Paige and Gibson had either few or no seasons outside the Negro Leagues.

To those who played the game, their worthiness was not a matter of debate. On occasions when black squads faced off against their white contemporaries, they won at least as often as not, if not more. In 1934 Paige and star MLB pitcher Dizzy Dean had their barnstorming teams—one black, one white—face off against each other six times in exhibition play. Paige’s crew won four of those six meetings, including a tense 1-0 victory at Chicago’s Wrigley Field after 13 innings.

“Their role in the black community was one that said, ‘We can play as good as anybody,’” says Dixon. “‘And there’s no reason for us not being in the major leagues, because not only can we play all of those guys, we can beat those guys.”

In the prime of Paige’s Negro League career, New York Yankees’ outfielder Joe DiMaggio once described Paige as the “best and fastest” pitcher he’d ever played against. Former Boston Red Sox star Ted Wiliams used part of his Hall of Fame speech in 1966 to mention the exclusion of Paige and other black players

“I hope that someday the names of Satchel Paige and Josh Gibson in some way can be added as a symbol of the great Negro players that are not here only because they were not given the chance,” Williams said to the crowd, a speech that Strohl notes occurred amid the civil rights movement.

Satchel Paige poses with his Baseball Hall of Fame plaque on his induction day, August 9, 1971, at Cooperstown, New York. Paige was the third black player inducted to the Hall, and the first inducted for Negro League achievements.

(Associated Press)

Meanwhile, sportswriters supportive of the cause used their platforms to argue for Negro Leaguers’ presence in the Hall. Members of the Baseball Writers’ Association of America, the body responsible for selecting Hall members, also created a committee in 1969 to advocate for Negro League inductions.

MLB commissioner Bowie Kuhn, elected in 1969, publicly welcomed to the idea of putting Negro League players in the Hall of Fame. In his 1987 autobiography Hardball: The Education of a Baseball Commissioner, Kuhn stated that he didn’t buy into the reasons against inducting Negro League players.

“I found unpersuasive and unimpressive the argument that the Hall of Fame would be ‘watered down’ if men who had not played in the majors were admitted,” Kuhn wrote, looking back at the time.

“Through no fault of their own,” he added, “the black players had been barred from the majors until 1947. Had they not been barred, there would have been great major-league players, and certainly Hall of Famers, among them.”

With Kuhn’s help, the Hall formed their Negro leagues committee in 1971, comprised of several men including Campanella and black sportswriters Sam Lacy and Wendell Smith. They were tasked with considering the merits of past players and executives for inclusion, and they announced Paige was their inaugural nominee in February.

Nevertheless, the Hall ran into controversy in how they planned to honor the Negro Leaguers: with a separate section, apart from the Major League inductees. Among the reasons cited were that some of the proposed inductees would not meet the minimum of ten MLB seasons competed in like other honorees. Instead of appearing like a tribute, the move was viewed by many as another form of segregation.

“Technically, you’d have to say he’s not in the Hall of Fame,” said Kuhn at the time, according to the New York Times. “But I’ve often said the Hall of Fame isn’t a building but a state of mind. The important thing is how the public views Satchel Paige, and I know how I view him.”

Backlash to the idea, from sportswriters and fans alike, was plentiful. Wells Trombly, writing for the Sporting News, declared, “Jim Crow still lives. … So they will be set aside in a separate wing. Just as they were when they played. It is an outright farce.”

New York Post sports columnist Milton Gross rejected Kuhn’s rosy interpretation, writing, “The Hall of Fame is not a state of mind. It is something semi-officially connected with organized baseball that is run by outdated rules which, as Jackie Robinson said the other day, ‘can be changed like laws are changed if they are unjust.’”

With the backdrop of backlash and an upcoming election, the Hall changed their mind in July of that year.

The pitcher himself stated that he was not worried where his tribute would be stored. “As far as I am concerned, I’m in the Hall of Fame,” he said. “I don’t know nothing about no Negro section. I’m proud to be in it. Wherever they put me is alright with me.”

Tye argues that it was still a painful experience for Paige. “Satchel had dealt with so much affront that I think he took it with quite a bit of class when they offered to let him into the segregated Hall,” he says. “But it clearly was devastating to him.”

A player whose name drew crowds and whose performances dazzled them, Paige was inducted into the National Baseball Hall of Fame in August 1971. A statue of Paige now adorns the Hall of Fame’s courtyard. It was installed in 2006, which is also the most recent year any Negro Leaguer has been inducted into the Hall.

He is portrayed with his left leg up in the air. His right hand nestles the baseball. Eyes closed, Satchel is preparing a pitch for eternity.

“I am the proudest man on the earth today, and my wife and sister and sister-in-law and my son all feel the same,” said Paige at the end of his Hall of Fame acceptance speech, reported the New York Times. “It’s a wonderful day and one man who appreciates it is Leroy Satchel Paige.”

#History

[hedwigstalons]

High Expectations - Ch18

Short fic?  Really?  How the hell have we reached chapter 18 already?  

@willow-salix has been a huge support all the way through.  She wields the red pen mightily

Earlier parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, Seventeen

AO3 chapter link

Chapter Eighteen

John closed the apartment door and basked in the silence.  The last few weeks had been awful but the last few days had been hellish.  If you had asked him two days ago what had been the hardest part of this summer he would have answered without hesitation his thesis defence interview, not because he had any difficulty with his project but because, even after 4 years at Harvard some of the faculty still struggled with his presence.  

He had bounced onto the quad aged sixteen, looking more like twelve, and instantly made a name for himself by criticising the work of one of the more well respected professors on campus.  It probably hadn’t helped that he had been right.  Since then he had been dogged by whispers of ‘Daddy’s money’ or heckled as an android freak as he eschewed the company of the peers that would never truly be peers due to the gaps in both age and intellect.  University had been a bittersweet mix of unbridled access to learning mixed with a social web to navigate that made high school look like an insignificant warm up.  The culmination of it all had been his thesis defence in front of a panel who didn’t know whether to be intimidated by him or offer him a cookie for being a good boy.  Still, he was walking away from it all, with dual honours and a postgraduate distinction, at an age not dissimilar from those just starting their higher education journey.

The troubles and torments of university, however, had nothing on the hell on Earth that was Boston airport for an extended period of time. He could now categorically say that this had been the worst part of the summer.  The route between east and west coast seemed to be plagued by delays but this, his final time of making the journey, had topped the lot.  Being held up for an unspecified period of time in an airport lounge had brought out the worst in humanity and after a delay that had pushed past 36 hours in the end he would be quite happy to never see another human ever again.  With the apartment door firmly shut on the outside world he fully intended to recharge and bask in the solitude before Alan got home from school.

He padded up the hallway to deposit the travel bag containing a few meagre essentials in his room but never made it that far.

The apartment might have been silent but it wasn’t empty.  His room was next to Alan’s and through the open door he could see that self same teenager sat cross legged on the bed, head set on, controller in hand and eyes glued to the screen that flashed with neon laser cannons and moved at a dizzying pace.  Part of him wanted to tiptoe on past, pretend he hadn’t spotted his younger brother, and collapse onto his own bed.  John could have sworn that he hadn’t done anything that could penetrate the teenager’s electronic cocoon but before he had crossed the doorway Alan’s head whipped round and fixed him with an intense blue stare.

Alan paused the game, dropped the controller next to him and slid off the headset.  He continued to stare in a way that he could see was making his older brother uncomfortable, holding the eye contact that always made John squirm a little, but at this point he didn’t care.

The weeks before Gordon’s departure had been busy.  With a fixed deadline firmly etched on the calendar Jeff had ramped up the pressure on Gordon to gain his pilot’s licence and all the myriad of special endorsements he would need beyond the basics in order to complete a cross-continental journey solo.  Alan wasn’t quite sure why such a high rated licence was necessary but he had appreciated all the extra time at the airfield it necessitated.  Almost every weekend had been spent there so that Gordon could get in the required practice and he had always tagged along, partly to spend more time with Gordon and partly in the hope of getting a lesson himself; it turned out flying was something he had a flair for and he relished those precious moments in the cockpit.  But then Gordon had gained his licence and the lessons had dried up.  Time in the sky went from being a priority to something his father was too busy to provide.  It rankled that he wasn’t worth the effort. 

And then the dreaded day had come.  The day he lost the brother he was closest to to the military might of WASP.  He’d probably come across as petulant and moody, his goodbyes stilted and brief, but the sullen exterior had been his armour protecting him from breaking as something inside him died.  He hadn’t even been able to go with Gordon on the trip up the coast as had been the original plan.  A last minute change had seen their father disappear off on some mysterious overseas errand, leaving Virgil to play taxi service to the WASP to be.  He had begged to go too but unfortunately for him the start date for Gordon had coincided with Scott having some leave and Virgil was staying up north to indulge in some oldest brother bonding time.  So he had been left behind, alone in the apartment, with the promise that John would have arrived by morning. 

Morning had dawned but the promised sibling hadn’t appeared.  The logical side of him knew there would be a perfectly rational explanation for John’s delay but the emotional side of him just added it to the heap of rejection he was feeling.  No one gave a damn about him.  Noone cared what he was doing.  He’d turned right around and headed back into his room to kill zombies.  When the second morning dawned and he was still alone the only difference it made was that the zombies were replaced by asteroids.  

John was pinned uncomfortably by the stare.  Everything about Alan screamed out that he was issuing a challenge, daring John to pass comment.  If he had ignored John’s presence he probably would have been left alone but John was a Tracy too and as with all Tracys he never could resist a challenge. 

“No school today?” he queried, one eyebrow raised in preemptive skepticism.

“Does it look like it?”

“What it looks like is you playing video games on a Tuesday in term time.  The news didn’t mention any schools being flattened by freak hurricanes so why are you here?”

Alan just shrugged and went to pick up his controller again.

“Alan!” 

“What?!  It’s not like there’s any point me being there.”

“There is always a point to school.”

“Yeah?  Well I’m not learning anything there, the stuff they set is just insulting.”

This was one point John could empathise with, boredom in the classroom was a familiar feeling to him.  He felt lucky that he had met forward thinking teachers early on in his school career.  Teachers that had put the effort in to find out his level rather than being happy to have a coasting child in the class that didn’t need their assistance.  The result had seen him progressing through grade school at a pace that, while it still felt slow to him, at least meant he wasn’t inflicted with the full, tortuous twelve years.  Alan on the other hand had been forced to stay firmly in his age grade. 

“What about your friends, surely you’re bored here without them?”

That just earned him an eye roll.

“Can we just skip the questions and head straight to the part where you lecture me.”

“Would it make a difference?  I’m not Dad but you do realise he is going to be majorly pissed when he finds out, don’t you?”

“He’ll only find out if you tell him.”

“You think he won’t find out from school?”

Alan just sighed.

“Seriously Johnny, Gordon and I got all comms from school diverted directly to us years ago.  I’ve already responded to their email.”

“You and Gordon did that?” He was secretly a little impressed that his brothers had found a way to bypass the school systems although he was concerned that their father had seemingly never noticed.

“Well, okay, I did that.  Gordon’s not so hot on the technical stuff but it was his idea.  Dad’s never been that great at dealing with letters and permission slips so I just got in through a school admin account and updated the contact details.  If it’s not a report card he isn’t interested.”

John decided not to pass comment on the low level hacking his baby brother had pulled off.  Instead he picked his way across the minefield that was Alan’s floor to join his little brother on the bed.  The mattress felt deliciously soft compared to the plastic seat upon which he had been forced to spend the night and he felt his bones sigh in relief.  His own bed was still calling out to him but his big brother instincts were screaming at him to fix things, even if he wasn’t entirely sure what he needed to fix.  The screaming won.  He leaned across to grab a second controller off the cluttered bedside unit and synced it into the game.

“So, what’re we playing?  I don’t recognise this one but then there wasn’t much time for gaming at Harvard.”

Alan looked bemused by the turn of events.  Scott held an authority that demanded respect, Virgil would take a softer and more caring approach, Gordon provided a mix of straight talking and fun whereas their father subscribed to the school of parenting that was mostly indifferent until an indiscretion was unearthed.  John was still a bit of an unknown entity, he’d never taken on the role of authority figure for Alan and he couldn’t work out his brother’s strategy.  

  “Uh, it’s something I made myself.”  Alan disconnected his headset and the background music of the pause screen sounded out harshly in the otherwise quiet apartment eliciting an involuntary wince from John.  He guiltily turned the volume down to a more comfortable level before resuming play.

They sat side by side in silence for a few minutes, blasting asteroids and navigating their way through a fast moving debris field.  The game concept appeared simple and John wondered why Alan had done it; it wasn’t like he couldn’t afford to stock up on the commercially available games.

“Games design is a new one for you, this a school project or something?”

John sensed the eye roll even without taking his own eyes off the screen.

“Hardly.  School sucks.”

“So, why make the game?”

“It’s not about the game.  I wanted to see if I could model a debris field.  Thought if I could get it right it could be good training, you know, before astronaut school.”  

“I think you’ll find Tracy College already has their own simulators.  How do you even know this is accurate.”  Alan had made no secret about his desire to head into space and it looked like that was still the life plan.  Part of John hoped the game wasn’t accurate, the objects were flying in thick and fast and he was struggling to react in time to find a clear path for his craft and guide it through.  Alan, on the other hand, was having no such difficulties; his movements were lightening fast and the game seemed to hold no challenge for him.

“Borrowed your books.”  Alan set his own controller down as John’s ship took a direct hit and exploded in a mass of technicolour pixels that ended the game.  He stretched out and plucked a weighty tome off the edge of his desk.

“Borrowed?  I don’t remember you asking.”  John recognised the volume as one of the few undergraduate text books he had investing in the hard copy of.  Slips of coloured paper stuck out at intervals and the pages were rather more worn and well thumbed than he remembered.  

Alan pointedly ignored the question and instead flipped through to the relevant pages.  

“I’m not sure if I got this bit right though.  I struggled to combine the effect of an explosion induced debris field interacting with a meteor shower.”

However John had been expecting his talk to go with Alan, it hadn’t been like this.  He soon found himself drawn into an animated discussion of the core principles of astrophysics and how material behaved in a vacuum.  Alan’s grasp of the subject, considering he was entirely self taught, surprised the elder Tracy.  On his rare visits home Alan had always pestered him to go star gazing or asked him his thoughts on the latest developments in astronaut training but he’d had no idea that Alan’s interest had extended into him seemingly attempting to study most of the first year of his Harvard course from home.  No wonder the kid was bored at school.  

When Jeff returned later that night it was to find the two boys deeply engrossed in some project or other.  Books and piles of scribbled notes lay scattered around them and John’s fingers danced through lines of holographic code as he pointed out some facet or other to the younger boy who seemed to hang on his every word.  He assumed John was helping Alan with his homework and thought no more of it as he settled down to his own evening. 

xoxoxox

“Mr Tracy, a Miss West is on the line for you.”

Jeff frowned at the unexpected intrusion from his personal assistant.  “Miss West?”  He couldn’t place the name.

“She says she is calling from the High School, Sir”

“Put her through then.”  He paused a moment until the slight click indicating a change in caller reached his ears.  

“Mr Tracy?  I’m Sarah West, Alan’s home room teacher.”  The woman on the other end of the call sounded slightly nervous and with good reason, the Tracy reputation was formidable and seeing Alan’s name on her class list when he had joined the school had led to rounds of commiserations in the faculty lounge.

“Miss West, what can I do for you?”  He tried to keep the puzzlement out of his voice.  The last time he had received a call from the school, or any kind of communication now he came to think about it, had been over Gordon’s suspension.  He hoped he was not in for a repeat of that embarrassing incident.

“I just wanted to check on how Alan was doing.  The class are all missing him and hope he is able to return to school soon.”

Jeff understood the words being spoken but the actual sentiments made no sense.  As far as he was concerned Alan was at school at that very moment.  He kept his voice carefully neutral.

“I thank you for your concern Miss West.  I will certainly pass on your regards when I see Alan this evening.”

“Thank you Mr Tracy.  Please accept my best wishes for you and all your family, it can be so hard when these things happen.  Please keep me informed of his progress through the parent portal and once Alan is well enough to come back we will look at putting a catch up and transition programme in place for him.  Alan is a bright boy and I have every confidence that he will be able to catch up with these missed weeks.”

“Thank you Miss West.  I will of course keep you informed.  Now if you will excuse me.”

“Of course Mr Tracy, goodbye.”

“Goodbye Miss West.”

Missed weeks.  The words rang out in his head, causing him to rub his temples.  Trouble at school had always been Gordon’s domain, he’d been gone for months but still his influence was being felt.  Alan had always taken after John until now; good grades, generally studious and with a passion for space. Whatever was going on Jeff knew he needed to nip it in the bud.  Pausing only to inform his PA that he would be heading out for lunch and might not return that day Jeff headed back to the apartment.

Jeff found Alan in his room, engrossed in some project or other.  He rapped smartly on the doorframe, breaking the teen’s concentration and causing him to look round in surprise.  The look Jeff was treated to wasn’t one of fear or remorse though and there was certainly no sign of guilt at being caught where he shouldn’t.

“Alan, my study.  Now!”  He strode off down the hallway without waiting for a response.

Alan sighed and followed, knowing that to ignore a direct command would be foolish.  By the time he reached the study Jeff was already behind the desk in his customary position for dispensing judgement, a situation Alan had rarely been in but had certainly heard about often enough from Gordon.  He was more than a little intimidated at the prospect of what was to come but he tried not to let it show as he stood there, ramrod straight, waiting for his father to make the opening move.

“So Alan, I had an interesting call from Miss West today.  Explain yourself”  

The words caused Alan’s stomach to drop, there was no way he could pass today off as an isolated incident now.  He had been signing off on his absences via the parent portal but if his teacher had actually called up then it was likely his father knew everything.  Not knowing what to do for the best he opted to say nothing.  The silence stretched out uncomfortably as he felt himself being appraised by eyes as hard as flint.

“I see.  Let’s keep this simple.  How long have you been skipping school for?”

“Since the beginning of the semester.”  There was no point lying about it now.  After his few days of indiscretion when Gordon first headed off to WASP John had made sure he went off to school each day.  At the end of the summer holidays though, with John and Virgil departed for Tracy College, there was no one to force the issue.  September had arrived and with it the start of a new school year but among the faces arriving for a fresh round of learning Alan’s had been notably absent.

“Why?  Your teacher seems to be under the impression you are unwell.  Are you unwell?”  The skeptical lilt to the voice and raised eyebrow would have made even John proud.

“No.”

“So why are you risking failing high school?” 

“Failing it?”  Alan snorted  “School’s boring.  I’d be able to get my diploma now if they’d just stick me in the right classes, then I could be done with the place.”

“And what makes you think you could complete your diploma now if you won’t attend class” 

“John did.”  Alan’s chin jutted out in defiance and Jeff was given a sudden and uncomfortable reminder of another son who had found school far too easy.  The arguments may have had a different focus but Alan wouldn't be the first Tracy to have found the system too limiting, the difference being that John had been fast tracked before the boredom got too much.  “I’m not learning anything at school.  It’s not like I’m just flunking out though, John’s been sending me some stuff through that’s far more interesting.”

“That’s as maybe but did John tell you to just ditch classes?  I seem to remember him maintaining an exemplary attendance record”

For the first time Alan felt a wave of guilt, the weight of it causing him to bow his head in shame.  John may have agreed with him that the school work he was being set was far too easy and been coaching him on more challenging topics to feed his thirst for knowledge on all things astronomical, but his brother would never have condoned him skipping class.  He was not going to let John take any of the blame for his choices.

“No, Sir.”  

“I see.”

Alan wasn’t quite sure what it was his father saw as he stood there being appraised like some interesting specimen.  There was another drawn out silence.  He could almost hear his father’s thoughts as he considered his next move.

“Show me.”  Alan’s head jerked up in confusion.  “Persuade me.  A key skill you would learn in school, if you were there, is how to present a well balanced and constructed argument.  Prove your case.  I’ll be here waiting.”

Alan had been expecting some sort of reprimand, either a bawling out or a quietly pronounced punishment.  So far he had received neither and he was feeling a little on the back foot but then his father had a flair for the unexpected, it’s what made him a formidable adversary in the boardroom.  He retreated to his room to think upon the challenge.  He wasn’t sure what he wanted to prove, didn’t have a clue what his argument was or what he wanted to achieve but he knew he had better come up with a plan fast.  It felt like he was being offered a lifeline of some sort but a lifeline that had the potential to cut you down if grasped in the wrong way.

He retreated into his room and sat down at the desk, the detritus of his latest project from John scattered in front of him where he had abandoned it at his father’s command.  What did he want?  He knew he didn’t want to go back into that hell-pit high school, each day of drudgery just sapped the life out of him, but how could he prove to his father that school was only holding him back?  He gazed unseeingly as the scribbled formulae he had been working on, all the time conscious that his father wouldn’t wait forever.

Those same formulae presented him with his answer.  His father had always been focussed on results, getting the most efficient return on his investment and abhorred anything he viewed as a waste of time.  Alan knew that if he could prove beyond doubt that attending school was just wasting precious learning time then he might never have to go back.  He started gathering together the work he had been doing for John as evidence that he really didn’t need to sit through another hour of basic trigonometry when he was already able to apply it to complex problems.  

Jeff sat back and waited.  He couldn’t predict Alan’s next move but then he realised he didn’t really know Alan at all.  All the way through the young boy’s life his care had fallen to others.  Others had formed him and moulded him and evidently turned Alan into someone capable of missing several weeks of school under his nose without him realising.  Those influences had all been evident during their short exchange.  He had witnessed Gordon’s defiance and determination, John’s intellect and Virgil’s sense of justice.  Even traces of Scott were evident in the set of Alan’s jaw and the way he held his shoulders despite Scott only really being present for half of Alan’s short life.  How telling that a brother absent some eight years held more influence than he did as father.  If there was one thing common to all his sons though it was the ability to rise to a challenge; the afternoon had the potential to be surprising.

Jeff never made it back to the office.  He couldn’t remember the last time he had had a meaningful and in depth discussion with his youngest son.  His conversations with Alan were normally limited to a few perfunctory exchanges in the evening and maybe a goodbye if Alan was up before he headed to the office.  Over the course of the afternoon he got more insights into Alan than any mere report card could give.  For a start those bland documents could only show that Alan had met the maximum expected standard for his class, behind the lists of grades his son’s true abilities had been hidden.  

Alan might have been skipping school but he hadn’t been squandering his time.  Jeff was treated to comparisons of the high school math curriculum compared to the problems John had been setting, ostensibly as a way of Alan bolstering a future college application as the middle Tracy had been unaware that the youngest had abandoned his traditional studies completely.  Physics, coding and a raft of other topics handy for the modern astronaut similarly followed and it became clear that Alan was willing to put the effort in on the topics that interested him. 

Once Alan had finished lambasting the Californian education system he turned hopeful eyes on his father.

“So, can I quit?” 

If there was one thing that Jeff agreed on it was that the current curriculum being inflicted on Alan was uninspiring and certainly not challenging for the youngster.  He was also conscious that his lawyers had not managed to secure the removal of their family tragedy from the text books in time for this academic year and therefore Alan would be subjected to the same ordeal as Gordon in just a few short months time if he stayed in the classroom.   However, he also knew that without a high school diploma Alan would be unlikely to be able to access the higher education he needed to turn his dreams of space into a reality; he knew this from his own path to the stars.

“No.”   

“But Dad…” 

“No Alan, I will not have any son of mine walking away from education without a high school diploma.  If you are at all serious about becoming an astronaut then you need to play by the rules, without a diploma you would be ineligible for any of the space programmes out there.”  

Jeff watched the disappointment flood his son’s features and wondered if Alan had really been paying attention to his words and whether he would spot the loophole in his pronouncement.  He waited as Alan put together his next move, he could almost see the thoughts as they played out.  Alan always had been the son to wear his emotions closest to the surface.

“I just have to get my diploma, right?”  There was a hesitancy as a glimmer of hope was seized on.

“That’s right.”

“But there are other ways of getting my diploma, not just in school.  Right?”  

“Potentially.  So what do you want to do?”

“Can I...can I do homeschool?  I’m sure we’ve got everything I need to join an online programme and then just get it done.”

Jeff paused as though contemplating the request.  Really, having Alan homeschooled would be better for both of them; Alan could learn at his own pace and he would find it easier to have oversight of his son’s progress and commitment.  

“You have until the end of the week to find a suitable programme otherwise I will march you straight back to the classroom myself on Monday morning.  I know you don’t see the point of half the subjects you have to take but they are important, your diploma is important, even if it’s only as a paper steppingstone to better things.”  Jeff found himself on the receiving end of one of Alan’s grins and realised sadly that he hadn’t seen one of those since their last flying lesson.  “Now, don’t you have some research to do?”

Alan took the hint and headed out of the study with far more bounce than he’d had when entering it.  Jeff had no concerns about delegating the task to his son, the similarities to John had been clear to see and he had every faith that Alan would find a suitable programme within the allotted time frame.  The fact that the change to homeschooling came with the added bonus of one less loose end to tie up when the time came to relocate was not lost on him.

[bigskydreaming]

Okay so I freely admit this is way long even by my standards, lol, but like, obviously I didn’t have a ton of time to like...think about superhero stuff, lmao, but that didn’t mean I didn’t still have Very Important Thoughts, so I kept adding them throughout the week and then I woke up and was like oh hey, actually this is done. And also, oh hey, that shit added up fast. Whoops. C’est la vie. Such is me.

ANYWAY. Here. I give you a Mega Meta. A Master Meta. A...shut up, me.

Okay. So. 

Thing is, to be perfectly clear....the problem many of us have is not with people writing Dick getting angry. Nobody’s saying he never gets angry, nobody’s saying you should never write him losing his temper.

The problem lies in so rarely writing Dick’s anger as sympathetic. 

Meanwhile, you have Jason punching him left and right in fics without ever apologizing or with readers even expecting him to or saying he should...because he has issues. Hell, almost every fic I can think of off the top of my head where Jason punches Dick for some reason, even when Dick didn’t actually do anything wrong or Jason jumped to conclusions...Dick ends up apologizing to him, more often than the other way around. He sheepishly volunteers that he probably deserved it. That’s. That’s not good, guys. And then we have Tim holding a grudge for years and finally erupting at Dick, with people cheering in the comments, validating it, validating Tim. 

Or we have Bruce being cold and dismissive in order to protect himself and his own feelings, but that’s just Bruce, people say, sighing as if exasperated with the character for doing the things that he only does because he’s written doing them. Because people have long since accepted seeing Bruce engaging in this kind of behavior with his kids, and more often that not...again, with Bruce they validate this behavior instead of calling it a flaw that needs fixing or needs spotlights shone on it. They don’t condone it, necessarily, but they accept that its just who he is, that its integral to him, that to change that would be to fundamentally change him, and thus, its not even so much a flaw at this point as just a fundamental touchstone of his character. That’s just how he is.

So again...its not that we think its out of character to write Dick being angry or losing his temper or yelling at someone. Its that his anger is almost universally treated as a flaw, specifically, instead of ever being framed as a merited reaction to something fucked up.

Whereas everybody else consistently has extenuating circumstances or explanations or justifications or bigger issues or whatever, any time they lose their temper in fics. When Jason, Tim, Bruce, Babs, Steph laying into Dick because he did this or that or didn’t do this or that, all of this is fine with everyone in the comments, its deserved, oh sure it sucks that the other characters had to be so blunt but the truth bombs needed to be dropped about Dick’s bad behavior or whatever, etc, etc....

But turn back to the vast majority of fics that make a point to write Dick getting angry or losing his cool at someone...and Dick’s anger at a friend of member of his family, by comparison, is practically never upheld as justifiable, understandable, sympathetic. Instead its more commonly framed within the narrative and agreed with in the comments, that it was simply him being selfish or self-centered, inconsiderate or spoiled or short-sighted or hypocritical.

Disregarding stories where Dick has no real storyline of his own, the ones where he’s there to support and further the plots and emotional arcs of his family....that aside from those, in stories or even just in scenes where Dick takes center stage, where he and his conflicts are front and center.....

Is it wildly inaccurate to say that except for fics that are clearly written by authors who are Dick stans first and foremost, that in a sizable majority of other fics, just about the only time you will see Dick portrayed as truly sympathetic....is when he’s inarguably a victim, specifically spelled out and acknowledged as such by the other characters themselves? In Tarantula or Mirage fics, injury or illness fics or ones where he’s been tortured, Court of Owl fics or ones where he’s been targeted by Deathstroke or adapts the Apprentice arc from TT...

That the only time a large part of fandom actually sympathizes with Dick, is when the narrative clearly and undeniably centers him as a victim in need of comfort and support, almost always from some external threat outside the family (with the exception of Bad Dad Bruce Wayne fics as well, to be fair).

Whump fics or when he’s being tortured or is sick or injured....often specifically scenarios in which he has very little agency of his own and his siblings and/or Bruce are stepping up to protect him. Which in theory is great. But in reality, it highlights the fact that the only time Dick securely has readers’ sympathy, is when everyone or most everyone in the fic has already offered it to him first.

Any other time though? Dick’s reactions to things are hardly ever framed as sympathetic, understandable. Not when the conflict is with other main characters. He’s always too extreme, too over the top, too heedless of how his words and actions affect others. He’s always described in comments in ways like “I understand Dick being upset here, but he went way too far” and even when he did absolutely nothing to incite a conflict and merely reacted to what other people did first, somehow it ends up being “well both of them are in the wrong, if Dick would just stop fighting”....again...even when he was the one in the conflict who undeniably had less agency, less power, less initiative, and thus him ‘stopping the fight’ is actually more accurately described as letting whatever was done go, so they can all make nice, even though he’s the only one who actually has to compromise.

In comparison, would Jason fans be comfortable with the argument that if Jason would simply stop fighting with Bruce, he could come home and they’d all get along fine? Would Tim fans be comfortable with the stance that if Tim would simply come back to Gotham during the events of Red Robin and make peace with Dick, they could be a united front and be all the stronger for it?

Or would the response to those takes be hell no, because Jason is RIGHT to stand by his convictions, to stand up for himself against Bruce? That Tim is RIGHT to stay absent from Gotham and keep ignoring Dick’s attempts to reach out to him, because anything else would just be letting Dick off the hook and he doesn’t deserve to have it that easy after what he did?

Meanwhile.....even in narratives where the take being used is that Bruce unequivocally fired Dick, forbid him from being Robin...its Dick who’s being stubborn and selfish for not forgiving Bruce, even though Bruce hasn’t actually put forth any actual effort to apologize or acknowledge what he did to hurt Dick or ask how he could make it better. 

Because also, the other factor in all this...Dick’s never just allowed to exist for himself. Because there’s always someone else who needs him, who by extension is being hurt and neglected by Dick’s focus on his own conflict and holding out for the conclusion to it that he secretly hopes for, the one where the other person apologizes and puts effort into fixing things. With it thus being deemed that the longer Dick’s conflict with someone else lasts, and keeps him from helping whomever else needs his attention, the more Dick is actually the one hurting that other person, by refusing to simply cave and settle and let go of his hurt. 

And when his conflict is with Bruce, notorious for never budging on things, the implicit understanding is Bruce is never going to be the one to cave, so Dick is never going to get the resolution he really wants, and thus trying to insist on it anyway, at the expense of not focusing his attention on that third party and prioritizing their needs....well, this, ultimately, becomes viewed as Dick being selfish. Because he’s insisting on holding out for something nobody believes will actually happen, and thus he’s just being stubborn and heedless of how his stubbornness is impacting others. 

So even when Bruce was the instigator of a conflict, when Dick was staying away with reason, because he was hurt, because he shouldn’t have to be the one to make things right......

Suddenly, the frame shifts, in ways it never does with other characters. Well, forget about Bruce for a second, readers argue. Because Dick’s still being selfish, see, because what about Jason? Maybe the fight was Bruce’s fault, maybe he did do something wrong, but Dick was still wrong for not putting Jason first, centering him, even though at the time Dick was a nineteen, twenty year old with his own life to live and no actual obligation to the boy his father figure took in all while making no effort to repair the damage he’d caused in his relationship with Dick. Instead just dedicating himself to being ideal for Jason, who got the adoption Dick had long wanted, the name and mantle that he created and Bruce treated like it was his to give and take...

No, none of that was ever Jason’s fault, and he definitely shouldn’t have been targeted or penalized by Dick for any of that. But the thing is, he wasn’t. All that is wholly a fanon creation. While meanwhile, by the same token, it was never Dick’s responsibility to buck up and get over his own hurt for the sake of someone who was at the time a complete stranger to him and who had no real connection to him yet, because it was Bruce’s responsibility to make a case for that connection existing. Because Bruce was the only connection between them at that point. Bruce was the reason there was any possible tie between Dick and Jason at all....but at the same time, Bruce was also the reason for Dick’s unwillingness to simply return to Gotham and play one big happy family. Because Bruce had fucked up, Bruce had overstepped and hurt him, but showed no willingness to actually take responsibility for that, and take any actual steps to fix what had been broken by his own actions and stubbornness. 

I mean, when Bruce took Jason in...Dick literally had NO ties left to Bruce at that point. His wardship dissolved at eighteen, Bruce held no legal responsibilities towards him, nor legally established bonds...Dick wasn’t living at the Manor anymore, hadn’t in a long time. He lived with the Titans, his teammates that Bruce had never truly approved of...as far as he could tell, he had no real presence in Bruce’s life anymore....and then Bruce takes in this new kid, adopts him, full legal ties for life, no aging out at eighteen...makes him Robin, gives away Dick’s mantle that he took from Dick in the first place when it was never his right to do so...fire him as his partner sure, but take away the mantle, specifically? No.

So here’s Dick, having gotten reluctantly used to Bruce, his father figure, being pretty much a non-entity in his life by this point...and then Bruce goes and gives every possible sign of recognition and family and WANT to this new kid...thereby establishing that he wasn’t just emotionally incapable of making those declarations, he wasn’t just utterly unwilling to ink permanent, undeniable bonds of family because of his own issues surrounding his parents’ death....

He just, for reasons born of thought processes Dick wasn’t privy to due to Bruce making no effort to contact him since their fight either...as far as Dick could tell, he just showed no interest in putting forth any kind of similar effort in Dick’s direction. In reconnecting with Dick, or establishing in the kinds of ways he’d quickly volunteered to establish with this shiny new kid, that he did in fact still want Dick in his life, in his family. That no matter the current lack of legal ties between them, he wanted to say or indicate otherwise now, change that, the way he had with Jason. To make clear that even though he was no longer obligated to Dick in any way, bound to him, he still wanted to be.

And I mean, its not like its impossible to see or consider Bruce’s headspace at the time. I believe in all likelihood, Bruce’s unwillingness or hesitation to reach out to Dick and try and rebuild their relationship was essentially just a fear of rejection. That he was afraid he could give it his all, dedicate everything to trying to fix what he’d fucked up...but Dick would reject it, reject him, and say it wasn’t good enough, or it was too late...because that was Bruce’s own assessment of things. That deep down, he didn’t believe Dick would be willing to work things out, to try, that he would ever truly forgive him, because Bruce didn’t believe he SHOULD be forgiven. 

I think Bruce absolutely came to regret everything he’d said and done, and realized too late just how badly he’d hurt Dick....and while I’m never shy about expressing I believe Bruce has major entitlement issues...his guilt complex is equally vast. I do think that often times Bruce’s refusal to apologize or express remorse is a stubborn insistence that he made the right choice or that at the time, his choice was valid...but I also think that just as often, Bruce’s unwillingness to apologize for hurt he caused a loved one comes from the sheer depth of his guilt, and the self-loathing that accompanies his awareness of the hurt he himself caused. He doesn’t apologize not because he isn’t sorry, but because he believes no apology could ever be good enough to make it right, that he could never truly be forgiven because what he did didn’t deserve forgiveness. And in the process, he so often makes that lack of forgiveness a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Because understanding that headspace of course does not actually absolve Bruce of anything. His feelings of remorse mean jack shit if he kept them bottled up inside instead of ever expressing them to Dick, the person who needed to see them, who needed a reason to believe Bruce knew how he’d hurt him and was sorry and wanted a chance to rebuild a relationship and vow to never repeat the same mistake. All the guilt, self-loathing and remorse in the world, if not turned into actual words or actions...does nothing to move the needle on the responsibility that was still Bruce and Bruce’s alone, to account for his own actions, his own choices, that affected both Dick and Jason in ways they had no equivalent power to re-order everyone’s lives with their own choices, as Bruce’s heavy handed edicts resulted in.

And yet...people constantly insist that Dick was selfish back then for not stepping up and doing MORE than he already did with Jason, because he was mad at Bruce....as though it was some silly little spat he should have long since gotten over, rather than because the heart of the entire issue lay in Bruce’s ability to demonstrate he could still be for Jason the kind of father he once was for Dick....but had seemingly decided to just abandon all effort to reach out and try and rebuild the connection with Dick that he was at the very same time quite happy to build with Jason.

So even when its all but impossible to frame a specific conflict between Dick and someone else as being Dick’s fault....people simply shift the ENTIRE CONFLICT to a new angle wherein Dick is still managing to be selfish, for not adequately performing the role and tasks their father should be taking it upon himself to do....since ALL OF THIS, his fight with Dick, his willingness to let their estrangement last as long as it did with no effort to even ask Dick to come home, to express that he wanted Dick to...and then his taking in Jason, adopting him, making him Robin...

EVERY SINGLE CHOICE IN ALL OF THAT WAS BRUCE’S. THE POWER, THE AGENCY, THE DECISION MAKING, THE CAUSES THAT RESULTED IN EFFECTS...THEY WERE ALL BRUCE’S AND NO ONE ELSE’S.

And yet somehow, Dick gets stuck with half the blame, half the responsibility. All while skipping straight over his own hurt and the repercussions of him being the one most directly and negatively impacted by Bruce’s choices and their inevitable ripple effect on his life. Disregarding the fact that he was FAR more wounded by his conflict with Bruce than Jason was by proximity to said conflict...and instead refocusing all that sympathy straight on Jason, for being the target of Dick’s resentment at being replaced. An angle that had to be wholly created by fanon in the first place, since that wasn’t how Dick actually treated him in canon. 

Dick gets cut entirely out of the middle in order to allow most reader sympathy to miss him completely...and somehow at the same time he gets pasted back into the frame parallel to Bruce, where he’s thus regarded as equally at fault, equally stubborn. Yet the reality remains that at no point did Dick ever have equal the power Bruce had when unilaterally making the choices that affected both Dick and Jason. Dick’s only real power lay in whether or not he settled for burying his grievances without any actual apology from Bruce, or an attempt by Bruce to take the initiative in repairing their relationship. 

People levy undeserved responsibility onto Dick’s shoulders in all of that, most likely to make up for the parts of all that mess that Bruce wouldn’t take responsibility for, not out loud. Because people just take it for granted that well, its Bruce, that’s who he is, that’s not going to change...so since we don’t expect him to do everything that needs to be done, we put that on Dick instead, because he’s more likely to take on more responsibility than should be his in the first place. He’s that kind of character. 

Its just easier to keep heaping narrative and emotional responsibilities on the character who’s established as being willing to keep taking on that responsibility, no matter how much you add and how much it isn’t his...than it is to do the legwork of trying to measurably change the character who’s established as being most stubborn about resisting change.

And so Dick keeps over and over getting backed into a corner where the only choices are take responsibility for the very actions someone else did to hurt him, or be the scapegoat for everything that continues to go wrong anyway. Because he makes for an easier target to blame than Bruce, who its deemed pointless to try and get to do anything he’s not already willing to do.

And that pattern repeats, across the board, with pretty much everyone. Its always a one-way street when its Dick’s actions or words that have hurt one of his siblings or Bruce. The responsibility for their conflict is ultimately his and his alone, and there’s never any excuse for what he did or how it hurt someone, never any mitigating circumstances. But each and every time the narrative presents a situation where someone in the family did something that hurt Dick, upset him, made him angry, made him leave....suddenly, it somehow always in those cases manages to be a two way street. Well technically both were at fault, or there’s two sides to every story, etc.

In fics, whenever the family is mostly in harmony or being brought together by some tragedy...Dick’s often cited as the emotional glue that holds the family together, the heart of it....but the second conflict erupts between him and one of his siblings, its equally cited that for some reason, the family’s emotional glue just can’t seem to stop himself from fucking up with one of his siblings, mistreating them, misjudging them, misunderstanding them....in ways that nobody else is guilty of. Its just him, the lone holdout that’s causing friction. From emotional glue of the family to the only one who can’t seem to get on board with what everyone else is perfectly fine with....in two scenes or less.

Which brings me to my ultimate point:

The only times Dick’s anger is considered justified, when its validated and approved of by writers and readers, is when that anger is on behalf of someone else. Then he’s allowed to be as cruel and cutting and as vicious as possible, and readers celebrate it.

Meanwhile, like I said earlier, Dick is only deemed truly sympathetic when he’s hurt and traumatized and shaking…then he can receive soft words of comfort, expressions of sympathy and support, and ‘aww, poor Dick’ in the comments. But anything else, lashing out because of his trauma, and he’s being selfish and not considering the effects he’s having on others (again, I point you back to how many times Jason hits Dick in fics with it not even getting a shout out in the comments).

Should he get angry on his own behalf and express resentment and bitterness towards his own family’s treatment of him at times, then he’s being cruel and inconsiderate of their own circumstances, his response is disproportionate or somehow just happens to cross the line up til which readers were willing to see his side of things, and shifts them firmly ‘back’ in the other person’s camp (again, I point you back to how many times Tim is celebrated for lashing out with years of pent up resentment at Dick, or even cutting him out of his life entirely. With readers cheering Tim on and saying Dick deserved it to degrees I have never seen readers validate or vindicate any amount of hurt or resentment Dick has towards Bruce’s firing of him as Robin).

It all adds up to creating this trap where he can be angry for others, but never himself. He can be sympathetic, but only to a point, and only if it costs no other main characters anything. He can be a victim, but not one with agency, not one with a full spectrum of emotions and reactions that might potentially be upsetting to others. And he can be an antagonistic foil or aggressor, but never one with understandable cause or justification behind his actions, unlike Bruce, Jason or Tim for whom there’s always a reason underlying why they do or say the things they do or say to Dick in canon or fics. Its complicated and they’re only human after all. Dick however, is pretty much always cast as just being unreasonable, hypocritical, spoiled and stubborn or all of the above.

Fandom has gradually over time eroded Dick down to only his opposite extremes, allowing no room for nuance or shades of gray in anything he says or does in canon OR in fiction. Its either or. He’s the most perfect or he’s the most flawed. He’s the solution to the story’s problem, his family’s problem, or else he is the story’s problem, he is the one causing the family conflict. He’s the best brother anyone could want or he’s the worst brother for anyone to be stuck with. He’s a supportive, everpresent son or he’s a resentful, absentee son. He’s eternally pining for Kory, Babs, Roy or Wally, or he’s flighty and promiscuous and with a sexual history longer than Deathstroke’s body count. He’s a helpless victim with too much trauma to act on his own agency or he has no trauma period, and thus no understanding of anyone else’s. He misses his parents too much to ever truly want or think of Bruce as his dad, or he never thinks of them or references them at all. He’s so perfect he exists as an unreachable benchmark that everyone resents him for being, or he’s not really that smart or talented beyond his acrobatics and only significant because he came first, with the others all having long surpassed him in skills and intellect. He has platonic, romantic or sexual relationships with practically every mercenary and antihero in the DC universe, or he has no flexibility whatsoever on his moral stances and is completely incapable of seeing the POV of even his own siblings when they disagree on these matters.

And any and all attempts to paint within these polarizing opposite extremes, to fill in the in betweens with shades and nuances…results in these things almost universally being deemed ‘Flaws’.

Any time he gets angry on his own behalf, so much as raises his voice at a member of his family or someone he’s in a relationship with, even if its only as a response to something they did to hurt him, a fight they initiated and pulled no punches in…this isn’t him being angry, experiencing a normal human emotion characteristic of every character at one point or another…this is his temper on display, we’re told, and this is a Flaw.

The fights always end with him having the last word, the parting shot, because he’s just that stubborn. And by total coincidence, this means the takeaway from all fights he’s in is always that he’s the one who refuses to finish...what he usually never wanted to begin in the first place.

And the thing is...Bruce is infamously angry as well of course, as is Jason, as are many, many others within and outside of the Batclan. But you see, its different with them, because they use their anger, they make a tool of it, it fuels their fights for others, it drives them forward even when they’re frustrated with how much is stacked against them or how unreasoning their opponent is being. They’re angry, yes, but their anger has purpose, their anger accomplishes things. Their anger is another tool in their utility belts. Their anger helps.

Dick’s anger, however, being a Flaw (with the exception of when its ignited in protection of his family), is pretty much at all other times a hindrance. His anger is unreasoning. It’s blind passion. It clouds his judgment and makes him behave irrationally. It can’t be harnessed, its too primal for even him to ever consciously control or put a leash on, and thus it is in all instances dangerous. It is destructive to both himself and those around him; once ignited, it will consume anything in its path, regardless of who or what it comes across. It puts up obstacles between him and the people who love him and just want to help him and be with him but he won’t let them, he and his anger and his stubborn refusal to see past it just keeps wedges between them for years, until someone smacks some sense into him. 

(Curiously, every extended canon conflict I can think of between him and Bruce or him and someone else…almost always seems to end with him being the one to come back, reach out, extend the olive branch, etc.)

Similarly, any time he prioritizes himself or his own circumstances over what a member of his family wants him or needs him to do or be…this isn’t an understandable conflict born of the fact that even in co-dependent families, siblings still have a right and a need to live their own lives, and its unrealistic to expect one to eternally put their own life on pause to settle everyone else’s emotional conflicts or needs….this is him being selfish and inconsiderate, we’re told, and this is a Flaw.

I mean, you get what I’m saying, right? Its not that Dick is a flat, two dimensional character who needs flaws to make him more interesting. Its that Dick is a fully three dimensional character the same as everyone else, but people keep calling anything except his most two dimensional characterizations a Flaw, and then they just point to his two dimensional characterizations as proof that he’s boring without these things….

Even though nobody’s disagreeing with that, we’re just disagreeing that all these other things that keep being called flaws are actually flaws! As opposed to just human, three dimensional characteristics that are repeatedly hammered down to their most flat and singular presentation before having a spotlight shone on them and captioned as an eleventh hour addition intended to give depth to his character...

When ironically, these flaws that are supposedly highlighted in order to flesh him out, make him more realistic, human, relatable...are almost always presented in a very shallow way themselves, with very little depth or context to them or Dick’s expression of them, usually intended to only be interpreted in very specific ways. 

You want him to be fully fleshed out and three dimensional, not static or unchanging or too unrealistically perfect? You want him to be like every other character?

Well…he already is. All those nuances that are so detectable in everyone else are already there in his core characterization, his canon. Nobody needs to add anything to make him compelling, to make him a partner in a narrative rather than an obstacle to be overcome…because the problem is not with Dick or his characterizations or his emotions, not really.

Its how everyone around him is written reacting to those things, or not reacting, as the case may be. Its this bizarre form of fictional gaslighting where people look at a chapter where Bruce instigated a conflict by bulldozing over everything Dick expressed he wanted or felt, and just issued an edict that Dick objected to…and people somehow come to the conclusion that well, if Dick didn’t want to fight with Bruce, he should simply have not objected to Bruce overriding his wants or needs, or at least gotten over it after a week or two. Hence, really, the fault is Dick’s.

Its Dick having trouble interacting with Jason when he first finally starts trying to reconcile with the family, with Dick written being cautious and wary and watching Jason like a hawk when the readers all know that Jason is trying here, he’s doing his best, he’s changed, why can’t Dick see that, why is he still hung up on….those times Jason almost killed their other brothers. Its like, why is he keeping distance between him and his brother…because of his narratively stated concerns for his other brothers, that are born of that first brother’s canon actions (and referenced within the fic itself) that hurt them. He’s vilified for not caring about his brother…when his caution and distance is literally born of caring about his brothers. Instead of garnering reader sympathy for being thrust in between a rock and a hard place while he works his way towards trusting that maybe nobody is going to hurt each other again and this could actually end well for all of them....he’s condemned for not reaching that point fast enough. 

For having to work his way there at all instead of instantly intuiting that Jason has changed and Dick can trust their brothers’ safety around him now...even though had he encountered Jason right before Jason started enacting his big plan in UTRH and welcomed Jason home with open arms and brought him straight to the manor and vouched for him because he wanted to believe this was a happy ending for all of them...at that point in time Tim very well might not have  been safe at the manor with Jason, and that could have ended horribly, and how could Dick possibly be expected to just know that Jason had truly changed and something like that was not a possibility at all...without the benefit of reader POVs or without being allowed the time to get to know Jason as he was now, rebuild trust that even if it primarily had been broken by external factors like the traumas that so drastically changed Jason or the effects of the Pit on him...that didn’t mean that even without assigning blame, there was still trust that need to be rebuilt, or built again. On all sides.

But meanwhile, Jason’s inciting actions contributed nothing to this conflict, because he had context for his actions...context that is rendered sympathetically by most narratives, and he’s past all that now and changed. So really, as far as most readers are concerned, the problem that needs to be fixed in this story is getting Dick to pull his head out of his ass and figure out what everyone else already knows, that he should somehow be able to just….sense Jason’s new trustworthiness. That Dick’s flawed for not accepting it at face value because of previous interactions, and being stubborn and judgmental in insisting on proceeding with caution at first instead.

You really want Dick to be three dimensional? He doesn’t need you to add anything to his character to put him on an even playing field with everyone else, or emphasize specific flaws in order to bring him down to anyone’s level.

It literally just requires…treating his character the same way you treat every other main character within a narrative.

Like…just let him be angry for himself at times, without painting him as the worst ever for daring to do so. Like everyone else gets to be, such as when they’re mad at him instead.

Let him put himself first at times without calling him neglectful for not constantly being at his brothers’ beck and call, like everyone else gets to be when they go off and have their own stories and adventures and no one calls them while they’re in Europe and says hey you need to come home and play mediator between Bruce and Damian, or Damian and Tim, or Jason and Bruce.

Let him need time alone not because he’s flighty or flaky or has commitment issues but because he has things he needs to sort out in his own head and that’s impossible to do when he keeps getting pulled in to everyone else’s fights to play peacemaker or expected to take sides.

Let him have inconsistent views on things like killing not because he’s a hypocrite, but because peoples’ views on charged matters can and do change over time, or they take into context specific situations they hadn’t previously considered, or they’re applied differently to other people who have other motivations than this previous instance he expressed a different stance on.

Let him have issues with how Bruce raised him, not because he’s ungrateful or inconsiderate, but because Bruce has trouble expressing how he truly feels about things a lot of times and Dick is someone who happens to really need actual open affection or else doubts start to creep in when he’s forced to rely on reading between the lines. Let this actually be acknowledged as part of the conflict between them, instead of offhandedly mentioned in passing before all focus is honed in specifically on Dick and his ‘part’ of the conflict.

Let him retain his own identity outside of Bruce taking him in, instead of acting like the second he moved into the manor, he became more of a spoiled rich kid than even Bruce is ever accused of having been. As if his identity in his eyes, the whole time he grew up with Bruce, wasn’t far more that of Robin, Batman’s partner, than it ever was of Bruce Wayne’s Ward, the newest Prince of Gotham. Y’know, like how Bruce taking Jason in didn’t magically turn him into an upper class snob, or Damian coming to live with Bruce didn’t magically make him the same as all his peers instead of constantly at odds with them because of his different childhood and how it shaped him in very different ways than theirs did.

Let him constantly hug and touch people and initiate bodily contact with people not because he’s inconsiderate or unaware of boundaries, but instead keeping in sight his own history of being touched without inviting it, and of having things assumed and insinuated about him by virtue of his heritage or simply from being taken in by a bachelor. And thus exploring how perhaps him so often taking the initiative in making or at least offering bodily contact first, lets him set the tone and degree of that contact rather than ever leave him caught unawares. A defense mechanism against people initiating unexpected or unwanted bodily contact with him - if he does it first, and on his terms, then he can never be surprised or disturbed by it, the way he’s so often been subjected to in canon and fics.

Let his family come to HIM sometimes, rather than just waiting for him to always come to them and saying well that’s just how he is. Instead of ever considering maybe that’s just how they’ve always made it be and he never was actually given a whole lot of choice in the matter…it was either accept the status quo or be deemed stubborn and neglectful for refusing to always come when called. Or labeled petty for pointing out that they could just as easily come to him when seeking his help. Or, y’know. Just to drop in and say hi or check up on him or behave like an actual family that acts like they WANT to be around him rather than having to tolerate his presence.

(’Everybody loves Dick Grayson’, most of the Batfamily cite as a source of resentment in some fics, accompanied by an eyeroll. Because despite that supposedly being a truism, almost every actual character in those fics seems irritated or annoyed by him merely walking in the door).

Let his family put in a little effort to seeing behind the mask they all know he wears at times. Let them take the initiative to try figuring out what’s bothering him rather than point to that mask as proof he just doesn’t want anyone to know. When there’s no acknowledgment that their own reactions to his attempts to air grievances in the past quite feasibly gives him a lot of reason to doubt they even want him to take off that mask around them. Given how, as mentioned previously…the vast majority of his canon conflicts with them end with him being the one to cave and get over it, even if he had nothing to do with initiating the conflict. Constantly being told that your reasons for being at odds with a family member aren’t Valid doesn’t exactly inspire confidence that opening up about your current hurts will end any better this time.

Let his family WAIT to hear his reaction to things rather than just presuming they all know exactly how he’ll react based on their own specific views of him, and then jump straight to reacting off of that while he has to play catch up and ends up boxed into the position they assumed he was going to take, rather than ending up there because it was where he WANTED to end up.

Let his family apologize to him for shit they do or say, as often as they expect and demand apologies for every little slight he makes - not to mention a number of ones that weren’t actually his.

Let his family hear and validate and understand and sympathize with his anger, rather than deeming it a flaw and disproportionate and over the top. While at the same time expecting him to always validate and understand and sympathize and get over them killing people because of their own anger, nursing grudges for several years because of their own anger, saying cold and cutting and cruel things to him and telling him to get lost because of their anger, etc, etc.

Let his family be understanding and protective of his childhood mementos of his first family - as in his literal name and his mantle of Robin and the costumes inspired by his family - I’ve said it before and likely will a hundred times again, but I will never understand why this is such a sticking point for people. Why is it not abundantly obvious that if you actually want to delve into the emotions and thoughts and opinions of a character who was orphaned at a young age, your narrative priority should probably not be to first and foremost make sure you find a place to sneak in your latest penis joke about his name. We get it. His name is another word for cock and that’s weird and silly to you. But so much so that you just have to find a way to sneak it into literally every fic about him, even at the expense of your narrative tone or your other characters’ characterization?

Because hate to break it to people, but when you have Jason ready to pound someone into the ground for disparaging Catherine in his earshot, but then write him turning around and two scenes later making a sport out of coming up with new and clever ways to weaponize his brother’s refusal to give up the name he associates with his dead parents, like…you just made Jason a hypocrite and an asshole there, for the sake of a penis joke at Dick’s expense. That’s what that actually was. The dick jokes don’t actually say or do or change anything about Dick whatsoever, in any story I’ve ever read. They only ever actually make everyone making those jokes seem a little less likable to any reader whose first reaction isn’t to giggle. Like, is reusing the same basic handful of jokes over and over really worth that? Are we all five?

Honestly, I think the reason I keep coming back to this specific trope so often is like…I constantly hear fans of other Bat characters say they have trouble connecting with Dick or empathizing with him because he feels less real, they have trouble understanding or relating to what makes him tick, there’s too much shiny and not enough actual depth to his character.

But to be perfectly blunt…when someone’s priority in a scene is coming up with jokes about Dick’s name rather than putting themselves in that character’s headspace and trying to come up with angles for why he would keep that name, despite all the jokes and ridicule he gets for it…like. The problem there is not with Dick’s character or lack of depth or being too hard to relate to or understand. The problem there is they simply don’t care to examine that character’s depth and emotions and motivations and what makes him tick, because they’re having too much fun using him as the butt of every other character’s jokes. And I mean, hey, you do you, but people being unable to move past the penis jokes about a character whose name has been that for eighty years, like…that’s about reader/writer priorities, not an absence of character material.

But anyway, moving on. Again like, try having his siblings actually respect his ways of honoring of his parents and childhood, rather than expecting him to placidly accept being the eternal butt of everyone’s jokes but also to never ever be inconsiderate or absent-minded about their own origins or childhoods.

Let his family respect and appreciate his contributions to their family, the superhero community at large, and their own lives, rather than only ever pointing to his time as Robin or his central place in the superhero community or in their family as a reason to resent him or somehow deem him completely unworthy of any kind of respect. But again, nobody better catch him ever disrespecting one of the later Robin’s skills or contributions to the mantle and community, because how dare he, only they’re allowed to resent or disrespect his time as Robin.

Let his family express actual gratitude for all the times he shows up for them and puts them first, rather than only ever pointing out the times he fails to do so, or doesn’t do so precisely in the ways they expected or wanted him to.

Let his family actually acknowledge his sacrifices on their own behalves, rather than simply expect them to exist, and thus deem them not worthy of notice or recognition.

Let his family be mindful of his traumas and as careful and considerate about them as they expect him to be about their own, rather than forgetting he has any at all, or handwaving them away as not that big a deal and deciding he’s incapable of understanding or relating to anything they’ve been through because he’s had such a better life in comparison.

Let his family remember that he spent his entire childhood with Bruce out on the streets fighting crime and trying his best to save people, often at the expense of normal childhood milestones and accumulating all sorts of injuries and traumas and witnessing just about every horror man can heap upon each other in the process, rather than scoffing at him as spoiled and sheltered because out of all of them, he spent the most time living in an actual mansion.

They wear HIS mantle after all, follow in HIS footsteps, not Bruce’s. Why do people concentrate so much on writing Jason and Tim and Damian’s conflicts over Robin and fights born of its importance to each of them....when judging by every scene they share with Dick in the same fanfics, the three of them often dismiss him as spoiled, shallow, indulged, out of touch with the ‘real world’ or just generally have no respect for...their predecessor....whose mantle still nevertheless means so much to them, they come to blows over it?

Just…let Dick be what he already is, rather than acting like he only exists as one of two opposite extremes and needs everything else rewritten or reframed as a character flaw or else he can’t possibly be deemed compelling or interesting.

You really want a three-dimensional, interesting and compelling Dick Grayson, rather than just a golden retriever on two legs, a source of comedic relief, a humorous punching bag, a handy dandy family therapist, or the Designated Asshole?

You don’t actually need to do anything to his character…other than give it the same courtesy you give to every other character around him.

Just let him be freaking human.

[amaramonette]

is that [ ISABEL DURANT ]? no, that’s just [ AMARA MONETTE ]. [ SHE/HER ] is [ TWENTY-SIX ] years old and is a [ PROFESSIONAL FIGURE SKATER ]. rumor has it they’ve been in town for [ NEARLY THEIR WHOLE LIFE ]. on a good day, they’re [ PERCEPTIVE & CULTURED ]. but watch out! they can also be [ SPITEFUL & POSSESSIVE ]. [ MORAL OF THE STORY by ASHE ] plays in my head whenever i think of them. can’t wait to see them around spring hill!

hellllooo! i’m li and i’m pretty excited to be here and start using my new bby. she’s a bit of a mash-up of a few different muses that i absolutely love so i’m very stoked to see how this goes lmao. i apologize now for this bio, it took me fivever and it's hella long but like everything i do is long. ( sorry not sorry<3 ). i am also down for alllll the connections, the more drama and angst the better lol. hit me up if you’d like to plot or like this and i’ll come to you!

[ triggers: bad parenting tw, mental abuse tw, ]

GENERAL INFORMATION.

NAME → amara quinn monette NICKNAMES → mara, am, or ams AGE → twenty-six DATE OF BIRTH → october 28th PLACE OF BIRTH → springhill, nj, usa EDUCATION  → high school ged ZODIAC → scorpio GENDER → female ORIENTATION → pansexual, demiromantic RELIGIOUS VIEWS → atheist 

PHYSICAL ATTRIBUTES.

FACE CLAIM → isabel durant HEIGHT → 5'4" WEIGHT → 128 lbs HAIR COLOR → blonde EYE COLOR → blue BODY TYPE → thin, athletic

FAMILIAL INFORMATION.

FATHER →  utp monette ( WC ) MOTHER → evelyn monette  YOUNGER SISTER → utp monette ( WC )

EX-HUSBAND  → utp ( WC )

PERSONALITY.

POSITIVE TRAITS → venturesome, determined, cultured, & perceptive 
NEGATIVE TRAITS → possessive, spiteful, dramatic, & oversensitive
 INTERESTS → dancing, cooking, photography, flower pressing, yoga, dogs, & caffeine 
DISLIKES → humblebraggers and name droppers, people who talk during movies, people who say ‘you look tired’, & willful ignorance  AESTHETICS → being up before the sun, the sound of skates on fresh ice, a vintage polaroid camera, a delicious smell coming from the kitchen, & a strong red wine.  
MORAL ALIGNMENT → chaotic neutral PERSONALITY TYPE → ENFP-T ( the campaigner )

BACKSTORY.

❦ amara monette was born and raised in spring hill, new jersey to a marine biologist and local contractor. her family has always been fairly well known in town as her father has been quite a pillar in the community and his company has done a lot of work for the town. her only sibling is six years younger than her and the two sisters have been like oil and water since the beginning and have never been able to see eye to eye on anything.

❦ the monette family dynamics could easily be categorized as dysfunctional but in amara’s eyes, that term is putting it lightly. there’s never been any doubt in the eldest daughter’s mind that she was an unplanned accident—a fact she’d gotten her mother to admit after heavy plying with wine when she was only a young teen. “if we didn’t have you, I could still be doing what I love.” her mother blathered drunkenly.

❦ the only person who didn’t treat her like that—as though she’d ruined their life—was her father, though due to his work, he spent more time out of the house than with his family. unlike her mother or sister, the one thing her father always did was encourage amara. remind her that no matter what she was striving for, it was possible and just within reach.

❦ the bond amara shared with her father was special, just as the bond her sister shared with their mother was special. though her sister also shared a loving, positive bond with BOTH of their parents and what amara shared with their mother was anything but positive or loving.

❦ at the age of four, her mother enrolled her in ballet classes hoping to teach the rambunctious little girl some discipline. much to her mother’s surprise, mara fell in love with dance immediately. but ballet, or dance in any such capacity, hadn’t been apart of her mother's ultimate plan for her. the following year, despite all the crying and protests from her daughter, the wannabe ballerina found herself being taught to ice skate.

❦ she didn’t particularly enjoy skating, not like the other girls she trained with did, but amara succeeded in ways many of them couldn’t over the years. her indifference to the sport and at being the best had given her an edge above the competition. and the more naturally gifted she proved to be at the sport, the further her mother pushed amara and the more intense the training became. as she got older she managed to convince her mother to let her enroll in dance classes once more if only to help in the long run, she’d say. it was in those moments, those classes, that she felt most at peace. as though she’d found just where she was meant to be—or what she ought to be doing. she’s never stopped dancing since. 

❦ at the age of nine, her mother had her pulled out of school to be privately tutored so she could spend more time on the ice—her mother only had one goal and she never let amara forget it. the olympics. though before her mother had the chance to remove her from school, the blonde had already made the best friend she could ever ask for. ( WC )

❦ it wasn’t until years later, at thirteen, she discovered that her mother had been forcing her down the same path she’d been set on as a girl. whereas her younger sister found herself free to pursue whatever interests she’d like, amara found herself on a rink shaped prison. and the unwavering pressure her mother applied only made it feel as though her ice space was forever shrinking.

❦ amara spent a majority of her youth and teens training, both on and off the ice, and whatever little free time she had left was spent with her small group of friends. friends her mother disliked for the most part and did all she could to keep her daughter away from. forcing amara to spend time with the other skaters in her class at every turn. not that she’d ever been able to fit in with them even if she wanted to. ( WCs )

❦ becoming a legal adult and dreaming of what it would finally be like to have the freedom she’d always longed for was just about all the blonde could do to keep moving forward. to keep her mother from truly bringing him down. but the relentless pressure from the cold-hearted woman and the fact that she showed no signs of letting up or letting amara walk away if she so desired to caused her to finally crack just a few months shy of her eighteenth birthday.

❦ like a thief in the night, amara disappeared from her parents home taking as many of her belongings with her as she could carry, save for all her skating gear. she spent several weeks sleeping on the couches of different friends while hiding from her mother and whatever wrath she intended to unleash for her missing so much ice time and standing up the coaches her parents paid plenty of money for.

❦ it was in those weeks of solitude that amara discovered what skating actually meant to her and just how much she still needed it in her life. the seventeen-year-old realized that she wasn’t as ready to hang up her skates as she previously thought and that there was still a thing or two she could learn from being on the rink.

❦ amara returned to the ice on the sole condition that her mother would let her do things her own way and would stop projecting her own regrets and more importantly wants on her daughter. things began to look up after that for the monette family in more ways than one and dysfunction that had once been so deeply rooted began to dissolve away just a bit. ( not so much between the sister lol, mostly just amara and her mom )

❦ she moved out on her own not long after, eager to have a life of her own as best she could, but being as clueless and willing to trust as she was, amara made many mistakes and gave her heart away much too easily which only led to it being crushed repeatedly by those who weren’t worthy of safeguarding it, to begin with. ( WCs )

❦ at twenty-one, after only dating for about a year amara married the man she believed was the one. however, it didn’t take her long to see just how incredibly wrong she was and the relationship was more toxic than anything else. she filed for divorce ten months later. ( WC )

❦ amara continued skating in hopes of making the olympic team—but this time the dream truly belonging to her, which seemed to pay off as she managed to do so successfully twice in 2014 and again in 2018. the blonde got a bronze medal in 2014 and didn’t place at all in 2018 after taking a nasty fall during her long program and making the mistake of not taking enough overall risks to make up for it. spooked after the olympic fall that nearly ended her entire career, amara decided to stop skating at a competitive level.

❦ in the following years, amara found herself joining several different national ice-skating tours but couldn’t quite shake the feeling of how far she’d fallen and how demeaning her life now seemed, skating for nothing more than mere amusement. unsatisfied and upset upon coming to the conclusion there was nothing else she could truly exceed at, amara took up the mantle that countless other incredible skaters also had, coach. a rewarding job that’s more or less left her at peace. 

OTHER IMPORTANT INFO.

❦ growing up, she was the most curious of children, constantly asking questions and wanting to know more about anything and everything. as the years passed, her curiosity never quite fizzled out as her parents as hoped. instead, the small blonde just became more confident in her ability to get the answers she sought and more determined to have it when a person wasn’t forthright with her. it’s something that leads her to trouble too often as she’s brought on a whole new meaning to the idea of questioning authority.

❦ amara can be quite a master of deceit and manipulation if she’d like. she gets a sort of amusement out of playing games with people and confusing them, especially with those she doesn’t get on well with. she definitely has a few different faces and is very particular about when she wears which face. her sweet face, where she’s likely to try and charm the pants off people, is the face she wears most of the time when interacting with strangers or just the general public. few people have ever seen her at her truest and those who have are either the ones she trusts most or the ones who’ve crossed her in unforgivable ways.

❦ anyone who knows amara is aware of how jealous or possessive she can be of those in her life she cares for. she’s never been able to quite help herself and isn’t afraid to make her feelings known when she feels her relationships have been infringed upon in any way. making friends and building relationships has always been something she’s struggled with as her childhood wasn’t normal in any sense. all her time after school was spent training—on or off the ice. and when she wasn’t training she was home with her family who she didn’t quite mesh with.

WANTED CONNECTIONS.

childhood best friend

ex-husband

father

younger sister

old friends —

new friends 

rivals 

exes / flings 

i’m here for it allll!