#without some sort of reconciliation

[partofitall]

you said once i might call you beloved if i no longer wished to call you fool... beloved, i have missed your company...

[dxxtruction]

Louis' "You're boring!" Could mean so many things, but I think what's most apparent about that line is that Armand takes no initiative just for himself. He's not really anybody, because he never goes out and finds himself or gets attached to anyone but Louis. Without Louis as his guide he's literally just sitting on a couch picking lint! That's the thing.

He orbits constantly around what would make Louis happy, and never really fully going what would make me happy? Ultimately that drive to please Louis is what drives him to torturing Daniel, not so much that he'd care to just do it. Ultimately, not giving proper care to Louis is just a way to make sure Louis knows he has to orbit around him as well, with shoving Lestat onto him just that other nail on the coffin. So, even if he fails to figure out how to make Louis happy with him, he still knows what Armand is good for, and better than.

That dependency is what drives Armand's abuse. It really just comes down to that. Armand doesn't even realize how suffocated he is by his own dependency. This is just how life is to him. (It shouldn't be lost either that dependency is a theme considering this episode also deals with addiction).

Daniel's fascinating because he's just so driven to be somebody. He's largely independent, he seeks things because he wants them. It's his drug to poke and prod at all the things that he shouldn't. Daniel's exciting because he lets Louis in to something different, lets him in to all this potential in another person that he can also do the same with for himself. It's a real connection. A two way street. It's easy to tell how Armand can be smothering then because he's never introducing him to anything really new, and most the ways both of them connect are all painful and traumatic. It's never just fun because there's always that layer of that pain. Fun died with Claudia.

50 years on they've gotten to a lot better place, both of them, but it's still that same shit. No seriously, "How is this any different from last time, Louis?"

Well... Because Armand's going to be, at the very least, making one [1] decision only for himself - and that's to hold power over Daniel's life. Fucking sick foreshadowing.

They aren't driving each other to the brink anymore but "The vampire is bored" STILL. Maybe it's even worse, despite being in better places, because Louis' sort of just been defeated by it. (I mean, can he even really leave this either?). He's accepting the dependancy cause he kind of has to. He'd literally ended up letting all the enjoyment be up where he can't reach [The book shelves]. Armand so desperately wants Louis happiness but what really ends up happening is that Louis ends up having to give Armand all his own. He's got no one or anything else to get it from. But like an iPad and an over the top eating ritual. Two extremes of what's just more lint picking.

This whole relationship is one I find just tragic inside and out. You have to just pity it, really. There's ways in which you can find yourself feeling bad for both of them. But you can only really be mad at Armand for any of it. Armand, who isn't even 'free' in any sense, having so little concept of his own independence, but is at the same time so controlling over other's. It's a tragic cycle. It's an infuriating one.

Louis at least has the mind to know when enough is enough. If just needing that extra push to get there. Armand's too scared of it being over to even try.

[camgoloud]

you ever just. become overwhelmed by a sudden out-of-nowhere wave of tenderness and affection and longing for reconnection directed towards someone to whom you no longer speak for Very Good Reasons

[heartofstanding]

To torture you: Courtenay extremely reluctantly giving Hal any last rites he may need in case the Dagger Incident does end fatally

Oh mannnn. I was actually poking at the thing I've been writing about the Dagger Incident and trying to determine just whether Courtenay knew about the Dagger Incident before Hal pulled it or whether he didn't know until afterwards (I think he's somewhere in the middle - he knew the gist of what Hal was planning but not the details). But man. Courtenay being the one who Hal goes to for the last rites? I'm going to go insane.

Though I might raise you a wounded Hal, post-Shrewsbury and delirious with pain, insisting that Courtenay give him last rites...

And both are like an inverse of Hal at Courtenay's death bed, where "after extreme unction, with his own hands wiped his feet and closed his eyes". I'm going to chew glass.

[nicastamatis]

possibly the most depressing thing ive ever read! goddamn!

[lovexdeepspace]

“life without you.”

summary; months after breaking up with them, they come for reconciliation.

warnings; heartbreak, break-ups

note; wowowow the first part to this blew up and i am so beyond thankful for all the love! after this comes more requests :D

!! divider by @cafekitsune !!

first part | angst ending

“we should probably see other people.”

༊*·˚. xavier

it had been a couple of months since you broke things off with xavier and the way his face had contorted into one of subtle shock made you feel, well, better about things. although it had pained you to say the words, knowing that he was instantly hit with something — be it guilt, regret, sadness, whatever — made you feel better knowing it meant he still cared enough about you.

though the months of silence that followed had you second guessing that notion, no matter how many times you tried to tell yourself it was normal for this to happen and that you should take advantage of this time. you would never admit to anyone the many nights you would spend on your couch, waiting around late at night hoping that knock would come on your door and your sleepy hunter would be on the other side.

perhaps you ended up manifesting it one too many times, however, because now you stand pj-clad in your doorway with one hand on your hip and a raised brow as xavier held out a round, marshmallow-looking stuffed bunny to you.

“what’s this?” you deadpanned, knowing exactly what he was doing — you just wanted to hear him say it.

xavier’s lips pressed into a tight line as he avoided your eyes and muttered, “i really screwed up. i didn’t realize how good things were with you until i lost you.”

you stayed silent, motioning for him to continue when he glanced your way.

“i don’t deserve to ask you for forgiveness, let alone should i expect you to take me back,” he said, holding your gaze, “but i’d be even more of a fool not to try. i’m so, so sorry i put you in such a shitty situation.”

xavier pushed the bunny a little closer to you, brightening a bit as you took it into your arms. it was soft and downright adorable, a stuffed reflection of the man in front of you(though, again, something else on the list of things that wouldn’t be admitted by you).

“i don’t expect you to answer me any time soon,” he added quickly, filling the silence, “so i’ll just —“

“xavier.”

the blonde immediately shut his mouth, giving you his rapt attention. with a sigh you look from the bunny to him before extending a hand to him, albeit hesitantly.

“i was in the middle of watching a movie,” you said, earning a confused look. “do you want to finish it with me?”

if your heart wasn’t racing by that point, the way xavier’s face broke out in a grin before he grabbed your hand excitedly and pulled you into your own apartment had it pounding against your rib cage like a drum.

༊*·˚. rafayel

you recieved a torrent of snarky, snappy texts following your brief break-up with rafayel. he switched between gaslighting you that nothing was happening and that you were overreacting to him acting nonchalant about the whole thing; it was so bad that you had to block his number before you even got back to your apartment, which was a few blocks away.

it was weird to not have your phone blowing up all day long but, at the same time, the silence was a sort of reprieve while you dealt with the emotional repercussions of the whole situation. it allowed you some peace of mind and gave you the space needed to cope and, with the months that followed, grow more comfortable with not being in a relationship anymore.

you had finally found yourself at peace once again, keeping yourself busy with things to do like trying out the new restaurant downtown. as you were getting ready to head out, a knock came from your front door.

“just a minute!” you called, adjusting the collar of your blouse in the mirror before heading to the door and opening it. “oh.”

standing in front of you was rafayel and thomas, the latter giving you a sweet smile and a wave.

“nice to see you!” he chirped before giving rafayel a shove on the shoulder and gesturing to you. “i’ll be in the car.”

“good seeing you, too, thomas,” you called as he walked off, then turned to rafayel. “so. it took your manager forcing you for you to come see me?”

rafayel pouted at you and crossed his arms over his chest. “last i checked, you’re the one who blocked my number.”

you barked out a laugh, unsure as to why you’d be surprised about the audacity of this man. “well, maybe it’s because you tried to downplay my feelings!”

“well i’m sorry, okay?” rafayel retorted, matching your raised volume. “there, happy?”

“happy?” you echoed, running a hand down your face. “rafayel, if you really think —”

“you’re right.”

you froze, biting back the rest of your statement and raising a brow. “i’m right?”

rafayel nodded, dropping his arms to his sides. “i fucked up. like truly, undoubtedly fucked up. and here i am, thinking i can just say sorry and fix it all but that’s not how it works. i’ve got this whole front to keep up to protect my stupid ego but. . .” he sniffles and you realize there are tears in his eyes but he continues before you can speak up.

“fuck my ego,” he spat, clearly more angry at himself with every word he spoke. “my life has been complete and utter shit without you in it. i thought i knew what i was doing but i was wrong and i can’t even begin to express how sorry i am. i don’t deserve forgiveness or anything from you but gods you deserved an apology and i hope this is at least somewhat sufficient.”

rafayel sniffled again, the tip of his nose reddening as he wiped at his eyes. you were shocked to say the least, rooted to the spot as you watched the man you always thought to be so invulnerable breaking down in front of you.

slowly you reached out and your hands pulled his away from his face. he looked at you with wide, teary eyes as your hands cupped his face, your thumbs brushing the few remaining tears away. he whispered your name and you sighed, feeling all the hardened feelings towards the artist and your breakup softening to mush.

“i’ve missed you,” he whispered, leaning into your touch, and everything gets thrown out the window as you press a quick kiss to his forehead, then his cheeks, then the corner of his lips.

“i missed you too,” you said quietly. “come inside — i’ll tell thomas that i’ll drive you home later.”

༊*·˚. zayne

his coldness towards you was to be expected but still stung more than you could’ve expected. what made the break-up even worse was that you had to do it at the hospital and she was present for it all. you had tripped over your words and felt like a fool but knew, deep down, it needed to be done to prevent you from spending another sleepless night.

you had accounted for the way you’d feel when you’d find his clothes in your laundry; you’d accounted for the way your heart would surge whenever the rare occurrence came that you’d see him out and about in linkon city; everything was thought out and prepared for to avoid feeling too harshly.

what you had failed to account for, however, was how you’d feel when you came home one day to find zayne sitting on your couch with at least ten different bouquets of flowers surrounding him.

first it was shock — you quite literally dropped all your belongings. zayne raised an eyebrow at your reaction as if it wasn’t incredibly surprising to see him sitting in your apartment after having months of no contact.

second it was realization — you hadn’t taken your spare key back. as soon as it hit you your shock wore off and you groaned, running a hand down your face. after a long day at work this was the last thing you were expecting and needed.

last came the indifference. you gestured to him, then to the door. zayne stood slowly and walked around the bouquets, heading for the door. you were surprised up until he shut the door and headed back to his original spot on the couch.

“zayne,” you deadpanned. “that was a sign for you to leave.”

“do you really want me to leave?” the doctor asked, his steely gaze sending shivers down your spine.

no. “why are you even here?” you asked, defeated, purposely avoiding the question. “months of not talking and you suddenly appear in my apartment? what gives?”

“i need to apologize,” zayne replied bluntly, gesturing to the plethora of flowers surrounding him. “did the flowers not make that obvious? are they not enough? should i have gotten more?”

he looked somewhat distraught as he looked around him and you shook your head with a sigh to cover up the way the corners of your mouth twitched. you’d hardly seen zayne so stressed let alone stressed over flowers and if they were enough for you.

“zayne, the flowers are lovely,” you assured him. “more than i know what to do with, though.”

zayne nodded slowly, a bit more at ease. he stood once more and walked over to you, stopping right in front of you. he took a deep breath and looked you square in the eye, though you noted the way his eyes flitted down to your lips for a split second.

“what i did, how i treated you, all of it was unacceptable,” he said softly and you couldn’t help but already feel him worming his way through your walls. “i don’t know what i was thinking — or if i was even thinking at all. you are the most caring, respectful, and loving partner anyone could ever ask for. i was so lucky to have you by my side and i foolishly messed everything up.”

you wanted to reach out and wrap your arms around him, truly, but he still looked as if he had more to say so you held yourself back for a moment longer.

“you are everything to me,” he said, “and i will do whatever i need to do to regain your trust, your love, everything. however long it takes — days, months, years, nothing else matters to me more than you.”

you were in awe of the man standing before you, so moved by his words and actions that you couldn’t help but wind your arms around him and pull him close to you. you could feel him relax in your embrace, something that nobody else could do no matter what. with your cheek pressed to his chest, you smiled to yourself as you felt him press a kiss to the crown of your head and his arms wrap tightly around you.

“since i went a little overboard with the flowers,” he mumbled, “do you think we should take them down to the hospital and give them out to the patients?”

there he was. your zayne. sweet, compassionate, loving zayne.

taglist; @chim-i @reialbert @circusclownsam @yegrnn @kreishin @xmikanx @frobin4ever @keitthen <3 & all the anons that requested this!

[gfmima]

c. 文豪ストレイドッグス BEAST | bsd BEAST + f!reader t. how he deals with you when you’re jealous

akutagawa leans back in his armchair, the room immersed in a soft, amber hue from the floor lamp; thin fingers trace over the spine of the novel in his hand, absentmindedly feeling the embossed letters under his touch. the normally stern expression on his face bore a hint of frustration as he sent a covert glance in your direction.

the tension in the air was unmistakable — plain to see, hard to dismiss — an unspoken rift between the two of you. what did he do? he asked for tea, a roundabout way of extending an olive branch.

alas, what he got was your wordless indifference, a pointed silence that stretched like an invisible barrier.

he can’t help but recall the catalyst for your weird behavior. honestly, he can’t fathom what you wanted him to do? what you wanted from him? in his mind, you were acting without reason.

at the end of the day, he was in a relationship with you. why must he assuage your concerns about higuchi’s foolish infatuation with him when it had been set in stone he loves you, not her? he can admit he could’ve handled it better for your sake, however, what had been said was said and there was no changing it.

now, as he sat there, he can’t deny that it did matter, even a teensy-weeny bit, and he had a gnawing feeling that he had underestimated the depth of your emotions.

these four walls closed in on him, slowly it compelled him to do something — hell, say anything! he let his stoicism to get the best of him, failing his duty as your boyfriend to be sensitive about the hurt he caused. a sigh escapes his lips…

“i said, can you brew me some tea?” akutagawa tried to ask once more, as he turns a page in his novel. though his gaze remains on the first line of dialogue, he didn’t digest a word; his mind wanders elsewhere.

“why don’t you ask your other girlfriend instead? she always looks very happy to help you.” and continue to work on your laptop screen.

your response, though expected, stung nonetheless. a slick retort delivered without even a glimpse towards him.

the air felt increasingly stifling as the silence persisted, only disturbed by the sound of your fingers on the keyboard. a growing sense of unease casts a shadow over him, he didn’t foresee this level of confrontation, especially from you of all people.

“exactly how long do you intend to behave this way?”

“i could ask you the same thing,” your reply catches him off guard, “how else do you expect me to behave? how would you feel if there was another man interested in me? and i do nothing to prevent it?”

the atmosphere grew colder and colder by the second as he contemplates. he struggles to articulate his feelings to you, his quietude serving as an admission of sorts.

“do you see why i’m upset, ryūnosuke?” your parting words landed on him like a sudden hit to the chest.

he grumbles, “you’re so annoying…”

akutagawa hooks his foot around your ankle, a tiny gesture for reconciliation, albeit a reluctant one. with arms crossed, he averts his gaze, the environment overwrought with unresolved emotions.

“wow, so i’m annoying, huh? you’re the one who can’t even acknowledge my feelings!” your tone drips with irritation as you finally look up to meet his eyes, and for a moment, you could see a hint of exasperation in his irises.

“use your brain — it’s not as if i asked her to like me!”

“but you could make it clear where your heart lies!”

the air fell into an uncomfortable silence yet again, neither one willing to yield. it was frustrating to be caught in a standoff with the man you love, but your jealousy had taken over and you weren’t about to let him off the hook so easily.

your boyfriend utters what you can assume to be a string of obscenities under his breath, as his shoulders collapse. “fine.” he concedes, “i’ll speak to her and make it clear that we’re very much together.”

you raise a brow.

you genuinely didn’t expect him to make the first move and relent. normally, you’d have to be the bigger person and let him have the last say, which often resulted in very late night talks with your friends.

“really? you will?”

he nods. “if that’s what it takes to end your childish worries, then so be it. i’ll tell her.”

the playful roll of your eyes couldn’t hide the way your heart swelled with affection for him. despite his gruff exterior, he cares about your feelings! you uncross your arms, reaching out to place your hand gently on his cheek.

“thank you, ryūnosuke.”

“HA, YOU’RE JEALOUS!” ranpo points a rather accusatory finger, reveling in the satisfaction of unraveling the mystery behind your peculiar behavior in recent days.

you struggle to find a response; your eyes narrow under the subdued lighting of the interrogation room where he cornered you. with every blink, the scene in front of you begins to develop: your dear boyfriend casually seated, his arms behind his head, and a triumphant smirk adorned his lips.

he meets your gaze with unmistakable pride.

“you’re delusional,” you scoff, your own arms crossed, and push yourself away to create a bit of distance between you two.

his eyes lock onto yours, a knowing familiarity etched into his dark irises; it was as if he was unraveling your expression layer by layer. you would’ve found it endearing if you weren’t carried from your desk in the midst of typing a report for kunikida out of the blue, just to be questioned like a homicide suspect.

“deflection is a common sign of jealousy~! t’s best to save yourself the time and embarrassment, and admit it: you’re jealous,” he dares say, as if it were a noteworthy detail that merits documentation.

“hmph!”

your eye twitches.

though seemingly at ease, ranpo was shaken. he knew you had a tendency to go silent whenever you were upset with him. he needs to tread carefully, he cannot undergo another hour of the silent treatment — neither can the agency! god forbid you take a break after seeing him get circled by “fans of his work.”

it was maddening to see a man who boasts as the “world’s greatest detective” stay oblivious while women shamelessly throw themselves at him.

the tilt of his head gives him an air of immaturity. “don’t get upset, i was only teasing!”

“…”

these four walls, adorned with its stale furniture and draped in shadows, became a backdrop for the unfolding drama. the only sounds heard were the whines of his chair as he adjusts his position, plus the light rustle of your coat as you shift uncomfortably to refrain making eye contact with him.

leaning forward, he rests his chin on the palm of his hand, arm prop on the table as he sighs rather dramatically. you were persistent, lips sealed tightly, refusing to say a word.

this was his (actual) last resort.

“do you want me to grovel? is that it?” his patience wears thin. “fine.” standing abruptly, you frown, expecting him to leave the room... however, to your shock, he kneels before you.

“huh, ranpo?!” you shriek, “what are you doing?! the floor is dirty! d’you even know when was the last time they cleaned this room? if they even clean it at all!”

he dismisses your concern. “do you forgive me? for being, uh… dense? i didn’t mean it, i swear!” his voice, a playful tune in the otherwise strained moment, holds a sincerity that surprises you.

“fine.” without hesitation, you gave him a firm nod, urging him to stand and to prevent further grime on his slacks.

ranpo wore a dumb grin on his face, stupid-looking yet very charming, effortlessly drawing a smile from you, the tension in your shoulders giving way. “what?”

fingers entwined with yours, he tugs you forward to place a chaste kiss on your lips. “it’s nothing, you’re cute when you get jealous.”

[fipindustries]

finding my self having feelings about spinel once again.

its just so perfect, so fucked up, so... chef's kiss, that at the end of this moving story about reconciliation, about listening, about learning and having empathy for those who think differently, about having patience for those with cold broken hearts and rigid minds, about breaking rules and about emotional intelligence, spinel shows up as a sort of final boss. is just so incredible that after this touching show about reconciling with abusive relatives while crying and singing, the final villain is a manic depressive clown who nobody remembered even existed.

she is just so uncomfortably out of context, and she knows she is out of place! and she resents this so so much! whats interesting about spinel is that unlike the diamonds, unlike basically all other villains steven faced until that point, she knows exactly what is going on. and she knows she has no place in that story. steven universe is a story that is perfectly neat and encapsulated, with rose as a complicated figure who ultimatly seemed to operate under the best of intentions, if a bit naive at the time. spinel sticks out like a sore thumb in some senses, she is a clown! she is completly ridiculous! her powers are a display of cartoonshness we never saw in the show before, she is awkward and uncomfortable to deal with in a way other villains werent. she comes to reveal the one truly evil and inexcusable action pink commited. her conflict cannot be resolved without ruining steven universes happly ever after, and she does it not by wielding the known and understood trappings of an abusive mother or a fascist leader or a violent soldier, things the crystal gems know how to deal with, spinel kicks their ass while being ridiculous and pathetic, by juggling and bouncing and squashing and stretching and singing an electroswing song.

and to make matters worse, she is aware of all this! she knows exactly what she's doing! if there was any drama across the entire series of steven universe it all hinged on the diamonds lack of perspective. in them not knowing that pink had actually been alive all along and them not understanding or accepting her desitions. the entire challenge was in having them learn and understand.

spinel knows everything, she understand exactly what is going on and still chooses violence. she "heard the story over and over again" and she doesnt really care how it ends. spinel is someone who saw all of steven universe and didnt like the ending, lol.

her problem is not that she is a closed minded bigot or a megalomaniac or a control freak. she was a perfectly innocent and silly clown. she just wanted to be funny, her problem is that she learned about steven's story and she realized the whole fucking show we just saw, the moving touching tale of steven universe, was just a giant joke on her.

and she didnt find it funny.

[antebunny]

IRONY

(Or: my take on a post Red Robin Dick & Tim reconciliation. Because they love each other so much, and that's why it hurts).

-

Tim can admit, once an alert pops up on his computer and he immediately opens up the live feed of Dick’s kitchen, that there’s some cruel, bitter irony in what he’s doing. Also quite a few broken laws, and bent morals, and some icky stuff which he would not like Dick to find out about. Inserting surveillance cameras and trackers all over your loved one’s property, after all, is Bad Sibling Behavior. After so long spent trying to be a good sibling, Tim is hardly going to admit what he’s doing to anyone else.

Because he’s stalking Dick. 

Like a creepy little obsessed fan. Or a creepy villain-adjacent stalker. Like a ten-year-old Timmy Drake. He never thought he’d be doing it again as eighteen-year-old Tim Drake. Nonetheless, he stalks and tracks and surveils Dick from afar without ever talking to him. It’s like old times. Jason is even alive again. Except that instead of Tim stalking the Bats because he was a lonely little ten-year-old left to rot in a huge mansion with no concept of privacy or boundaries, he’s a less-lonely eighteen-year-old who knows far too much about Dick Grayson. Too much because far too much has gone down between them for Tim to just…talk to the guy. It’s impossible. Definitely impossible. 

Tim misses the days of late night ice creams, arms resting on his head or slung over his back, trading skateboard tricks for tumbling tricks. He aches for those days with a hunger he didn’t know was possible after a childhood spent starving for affection. 

But they can never go back.

Which is why Tim learns that Dick isn’t taking his meds because his surveillance equipment detected a change in behavior. Dick usually goes to his kitchen, breaks out orange juice or soda or some energy drink from the fridge, and takes his meds. Tonight he did not. Tim doesn’t know what the meds are for, he’s not that much of an invasive creep. It’s enough to know that Dick is getting treatment. And Tim doesn’t have to talk to Dick to find out how he’s doing. It’s enough to stalk him from afar to check on his well-being. 

Now the question is: what can Tim do about it? He can’t ask Dick himself. That’s obviously out of the question. Dick would listen to Damian, but the brat resents Tim’s very existence, so best not try that route. Dick would listen to Jason, but Red Hood barely tolerates Tim nowadays, and Tim isn’t interested in owing him a huge favor for something he really should do himself, so not him either. Dick would maybe, maybe listen to Bruce, but that’s hit-or-miss. 

Tim calls Barbara. 

“I need a favor,” he says as soon as she picks up. “Are you alone?”

“Yes,” Barbara replies, immediately business-like. “What’s up?”

Tim spins around in his swivel chair. Best purchase for his lair by far. “Not cape stuff, sort of, or imminently pressing, well, it’s pressing, I just needed to make sure no one’s listening in.”

“As sure as I can ever be,” Barbara confirms dryly. Answer: there’s always a chance, in the Bats’ paranoid minds, that someone is eavesdropping. But according to Oracle, she’s in the clear, and it really doesn’t get better than that.

“So, don’t ask me how I know this,” Tim prefaces, knowing she’s about to find out about his surveillance cameras in Dick’s apartment (if she hasn’t already), “but Dick didn’t take his meds last night. I don’t know what they are, so I dunno how bad it is that he skipped, and I don’t wanna pry into your, uh, relationship with him but–”

“Dick and I aren’t talking right now,” Barbara says flatly.

So, they’re in the off-again part of their on-again, off-again relationship. Most of the time Tim is rooting for them. Sometimes he thinks they should do what he and Steph did and settle into a best friends for life relationship. 

“Right.” On his next rotation, Tim catches himself on the edge of his table. He taps one hand on the clear surface and thinks of possibilities. “Do you think he would listen to B–”

“No.”

“Right.” Tim tries not to sigh and fails. “Okay, uh. Jason?”

“Jason can’t keep a secret.”

Which is sort of unfair to Jason, but keeping a secret is relative. Compared to Barbara and Tim, Jason can’t keep a secret. And Tim is not one to argue if someone’s making fun of Jason.

“Cass? No. Same problem.” 

It’s against her very nature to lie. If Cass does hold a secret, it is by accident. Tim doesn’t want to leave this up to chance. This was easier when they had Alfred to mediate. 

Tim starts spinning in his chair again. His room whirls past. “What about his friends? Kori or Wally or…literally any of them?”

“I don’t see,” Barbara says, “why you’re avoiding the obvious solution of asking him yourself. He’d listen to you.”

He’ll listen to you. What a heavy, crushing promise to make. You have the trust of Nightwing. Nightwing, admired by the entire superhero community. It’s true, maybe, probably. That Dick will listen to Tim. He’s mostly sure of that now, after everything. That’s the problem, really. The “after everything” part of Tim’s confidence. Their trust is not from years of steady partnership, or slowly developed siblinghood. The trust Tim has in Dick originates from months of silence, of terribly intimate understanding, of shared grief and one horrible, nausea-inducing day. 

Dick hates when people leave him and when people fall and he can’t catch them. People don’t usually leave Dick Grayson, but Tim left and then he fell and Dick caught him. So Dick will listen, probably, maybe, if only because he doesn’t want Tim to leave. And Tim can’t ask, knowing that they don’t have the nice, easy brotherhood they ought to, the companionship siblings should have. Knowing Dick is only listening because he wants to keep Tim around. That’s the sort of fake compassion Tim spent his life running from. It’s not empathy, it’s sympathy. 

A vicious little voice that sounds like Janet Drake tells Tim that he should shut up and suck it up and accept whatever Dick gives him, because he’ll never be worthy of anything more. Tim slams his head into walls to shut that voice up. He won’t accept it. He cannot. He must not. 

“You’re not talking to him, are you.” Barbara’s voice has a tinge of that shaking-your-head condescension that drives Tim up the walls. The tone that carries that undercurrent of, why are you making this so hard, Tim? As if it’s so easy. As if everything that fractured Tim and Dick’s relationship is so easily repairable. 

Of course, Tim can’t explain that to Barbara. It sounds pathetic, even to himself.

“Bold words, coming from you,” Tim retorts.

Barbara sighs. “Look. At this point Damian has the best communication with Dick. And unless you have a way of tricking Damian into–huh.”

Tim, whose manipulative, stalkery little brain went in the exact same direction as hers, echoes her exclamation. “Oh. Yeah. Hm. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Unfortunately,” Barbara says, voice dry as the desert Tim was reborn in, “yes.”

The Belfry, a secret headquarters perfectly unobtrusive in Gotham’s old gothic and industrial skyline, was built by Tim and Barbara shortly after Bruce’s return. Since it’s so much newer than the Clock Tower, its inhabitants are not yet established. Where the Clock Tower houses the Birds of Prey, and Barbara’s friends in general, the Belfry sees a small but wide-ranging group of heroes coming in and out. Dick, Cass and Steph are the only other Bats to be allowed in.

Tonight, a little eleven-year-old boy crouches in the welcome darkness of one of the many nooks and crannies, dagger in his hands, and pretends with all his might that he belongs. 

“…at least wrap it,” Barbara is saying as she disengages the many, many security systems and enters the many passwords to get into the Belfry. 

“What’s the point?” Tim argues. “It’s not like–”

Both he and Barbara freeze. Tim raises a hand slowly to his belt. Barbara fingers one of the many buttons on her wheelchair. He gestures her to the left. They’re caught in front of the huge floor-to-ceiling windows. With ceilings as high as a warehouse (it’s a bell tower, after all), those windows are high indeed. 

And then–

“Oracle. Red.” Damian emerges from the darkness like the little gremlin that he is, chin held high in his Robin uniform while he omits the Robin part of Tim’s new superhero name. “I have been here long enough that I could’ve killed both of you. How careless of you to not notice.”

Translation: Damian had been hoping to go unnoticed for longer.

“Here, where you most definitely do not have access,” Barbara points out. She wheels closer now that they know it’s just Robin.

Tim, while Damian is distracted with Barbara, sidles over to a table as stealthily as he knows how and sets down his package. 

“Clearly, your security standards are in need of upgrading,” Damian sniffs. Then his eyes narrow as he notices what Tim is doing. “Drake. What is that package.”

“None of your business,” Tim snaps back immediately. He moves to cover it with his back. “Get out of here. Invites only, you weren’t invited, you know how it is.”

Damian folds his hands behind his back and raises his nose. “It is for Grayson.”

“For Christ’s–how did you know?” Barbara demands.

“You just confirmed it,” Damian replies smugly.

Barbara rolls her eyes. “Okay. Fine. It’s for Dick. Happy now?”

“No.” Damian marches up to Tim, then folds his arms, dagger and all, over his chest when Tim blocks his path to the package. “Tell me what you are giving to Grayson.”

Tim leans back against the table and folds his own arms over his chest, affecting a casual state of relaxation he absolutely does not feel. “I said, none of your business.” 

In truth, there’s something so heart-breakingly ten-years-old about Damian’s behavior. His cool older brother is part of a cool group of friends with a secret hideout that Damian is not allowed into. Of course he broke into it. Damian, under all his bluster and bravado, wants to be a part of it all. He’s only human. He’s only eleven years old.

“You may be poisoning him,” Damian insists.

Tim laughs. “That’s more your wheelhouse, isn’t it?”

Seems like Damian hasn’t yet heard the saying your wheelhouse, because he scowls but doesn’t respond. Oddly enough, Tim feels worse about that than he does about the actual insult. Kids are not their parents or the secret assassin society they come from, he knows, he knows this. Yet this intellectual knowledge always flies out the window in favor of emotional responses when it comes to Damian. 

“It’s not,” Barbara interrupts, before they can come to blows. “It’s just something to make him feel better, since he stopped taking his meds. Now will you leave?”

Damian scowls again, this time resembling an angry kitten more than a fearsome assassin. Not that he ever has resembled a fearsome assassin, despite all the assassination attempts. For all the pent-up resentment and bitter anger Tim has about Damian, he can’t help but find the kid a little cute. 

(The thing is, back before everything, Tim really wanted a little sibling. Back before everything, Tim used to dream about Jason coming back).

(Isn’t it funny how the universe keeps giving Tim what he wants just to spite him?)

“Fine.” Damian glares at both of them in turn. “Since both of you are so incompetent in taking care of Grayson, I will do it.” 

And he sweeps out of the Belfry with all the righteous fury that an eleven-year-old can muster. 

Tim and Barbara finally make eye contact after Barbara ensures, using the Belfry’s surveillance cameras, that Damian has exited the building for good. Then they both burst into laughter. The rafters ring with the force of it, pealing like the bells on Sunday morning. Barbara slaps her knee. Tim leans back on the table, hands clasped over his stomach, and shakes.

“I can’t believe,” Barbara says, once she’s calmed down enough to get a proper sentence out, “that we just tricked a kid into doing our dirty work for us.”

“Hey, if it works,” Tim says, voice full of mirth. 

He easily identifies himself as an adult despite only recently turning eighteen. It is impossible to feel like a child, he reasons, after waking up in the desert. After running Wayne Industries, however briefly. After striking out on his own. After everything.

Perhaps that’s why he gets along so well with Barbara these days. She understands that he is not a kid anymore, even if she wasn’t there for everything. Dick, on the other hand, still sees Tim as the kid he was. (As Robin). As the Before Everything Tim Drake that the real Tim is getting so very tired of thinking about. So what if he misses all of it, the good and the ugly? That’s just the nostalgia speaking. That’s just part of growing up. Tim had to grow up fast, so he did. He did what he had to do and he won’t let himself regret it.

[bengiyo]

Last Twilight Ep 12 (Finale) Stray Thoughts

Last week, we learned that Day’s surgery was unsuccessful. We time skipped over his mom figuring out things to see that Mhok is having anxieties about Day and conflating them with Rung. Mhok has become overprotective even as Day has begun using his cane and exercising more independence. Mhok lied about a job opportunity in Hawaii and upset Day. Day reacted in the most extreme and broke up with Mhok.

So…we’re just skipping over the aftermath of that fight? They really just broke up and now it’s years later and Day is graduating? That whole journey ended on one lie? Be serious.

Did they really try to fake me out like Mhok might be the groom for Porjai? Be serious now.

Man, they really want this escalator scene to give It’s All Coming Back to Me Now, but I just don’t think you can earn that in a time skip this abrupt.

Suddenly Aof cameo.

Mixed feelings about Mhok assisting Day like this. At least he revealed himself at the end? It’s giving Revenge of the Nerds (1984) or The Goonies (1985).

Day has had Mhok blocked for three years???

Are we really just gonna start flirting after three years like this? Come on, now. What has changed??

All the meddling is cute, but I’m still at the three years no contact.

Unbelievable. Mhok says he did a bunch of emotional work and then thanked Day for breaking up with him, only for Day to say, ‘I’m glad we can discuss this as adults,’ without saying anything else. “This is real damn ridiculous. This is belemptious.”

Mom, why aren’t saying any of this to Day???

I do appreciate that Day and Night worked out their issues, but everything with the supporting cast feels like it’s all happening between scenes. Like why is the dad here? Are he and the mom going to reconcile? Do we care about this in any way specific to these characters?

Aof seems to like when one of his leads is holding back really hard for some reason, but Day is just not a good execution of that at all. I am not on his side the way I was with Phupha, Jim, or Pran.

If Mhok gives up the work and life he’s built for himself for three years to be with Day, I’m going to be just as annoyed as I was at the end of Enchante with Akk having to work his way to Paris to be with Theo.

So…Day has done no emotional work on his issues with Mhok in three years? I don’t even think Mhok’s issue was about even pitying Day. What the fuck is this?

That car is about to get towed!

I just know Namtam had a good time running around in an airport wearing a wedding dress.

We’re doing this whole reunion scene, so has Mhok just…processed his grief about Rung? We’re just gonna get back together now? Mhok is still talking about his mistake? We’re just gonna take over the aftermath of Night and Porjai’s wedding?

Eye donation? Oh…..this is about to take a turn.

I don’t like timing this to right after the unearned romantic reconciliation. This is a bad look. I had seen some posts earlier, and this is as bad as described.

I don’t think there’s anything inherently wrong with Day getting his vision back, but putting it in the finale like this and rushing over the other conflicts makes it feel like a reward. It also has them quickly advancing past any other developments in Day’s life as he potentially reapproaches things he had before.

I’m feeling conflicted about them returning to the mountaintop, because there was so much acceptance in that first scene. I don’t know that there’s good mirroring here of any sort for this.

Final Verdict: 5, This Was a Huge Miss. I’m not sorry for this low rating on an Aof show. I cannot in good faith give this a 6 as decent but boring. The imbalanced writing between the romantic leads left me extremely dissatisfied for most of the back half show, and quickly showing your blind character adapting and even thriving in his circumstances just to have him monologue about being normal again at the end was so not the moment. @lurkingshan has already covered what this show messed up as a good starting point, and I want to state plainly that I will no longer be grading Thai BL on the curve of what the show is trying to be. It’s been ten years of Thai BL, and decades of BL and yaoi before it. These shows will be graded for what they are.

Jojo and Aof had big misses in the last year. Tee dropped the ball multiple times. Golf had a weird outing. New Siwaj failed me completely. We cannot worship these creators. They are just trying to make cool stories and help sell the juice. Sometimes they make really cool pieces that we love forever. Sometimes they flop. Aof tried something here and it didn’t reach the heights we expected of him. Directors are not gods. It’s fine for them to flop. There’s enough BL airing that a few shows being letdowns doesn’t leave us with nothing else to watch for weeks.

Still, I will say that I liked the chemistry between Jimmy and Sea, and I thought Mark and Namtam made a decent pair. When this show was good, I liked the moments.

[leovenuslatina]

SINGLES ONLY !! what’s coming up in your love life?

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

psa - tarot readings are not set in stone

take what resonates leave what doesn’t

you’re fully in control of YOUR own life

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

* take a deep cleansing breathe

and pick a pile that calls to you *

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

pile 1 - the chariot and the queen of swords

-

pile one maybe you just become single or are currently going through some sort of separation. Maybe you’re worried and feeling unsure that you’ll be lonely for a while. With the chariot card spirit is telling you that if you push through this phase of your life you will see success and victory in your love life. im seeing that you’re good at overcoming adversity and that you won’t regret pushing yourself through this separation you’ll come out a lot stronger for it and your hard work will be rewarded! im also getting that this is your queen era !!! you’re not taking shit from anyone anymore you know what you want and you’re going to get it you don’t hide your feelings and you’ve learned so much from everything youve been through.

_____

Extra Messages

-

* passion project

* develop hobbies

* creation

* some kind of artist

* learning about everything

_____

channeled song -

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

pile 2 - 8 of wands and 4 of cups

-

I feel like this is someone you may know or have already met ? someone coming in really fast for you !! pile two this person has realized that their life is really nothing without you ! they feel like they lost their opportunity with you they feel so bad about how things were between the two of you. now pile 2 they have reevaluated themselves and are hoping they can rush into your life and be the person you need!

-

Extra Messages

-

* union

* marriage

* approved

* consenting

-

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

pile 3 - the tower and 6 of cups

-

much like the last pile i think you’re headed for a reconciliation. This maybe a person who things ended pretty dramatically. this person pile 3 is coming back to apologize and try to heal things they may have fucked up in the past. It’s completely up to you whether or not you take this person back! i am seeing you will reminisce over good times and happy moments with this person.

-

extra messages

-

* abundance

* creativity

* intense relationship

* satisfaction

* success

* positivity

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

pile 4 - 10 of cups and the hanged man

-

pile 4 !! the way the cards flew out omg !! it made me feel like this connection coming up for you will be very easy in every sense of the word. pile 4 the person coming to you wants commitment and family. the person coming in you’ll have a harmonious life with them someone who intends to make you happy in every way. i’m seeing the two of you will have a very successful life all your cups will be filled up because of this person.

-

extra messages

-

* compassion

* helpful

* mature

* dominant spouse

-

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

[super-paper]

Truly Yours: A Defense of "Iron Might"

"My dear, In the midst of hate, I found within me an invincible love. In the midst of tears, I found within me an invincible smile. In the midst of chaos, I found within me an invincible calm. I realized, through it all, that… In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer. And that makes me happy. For it says that no matter how hard the world pushes against me, within me, there’s something stronger – something better – pushing right back "

Disclaimer: The above quote is famously misattributed to Camus-- who seemingly only wrote the midst of winter/invincible summer portion of the original piece-- and the author of the expanded quote remains unknown. Nevertheless, it fits Toshi's character perfectly.

Iron Might remains a polarizing love-or-hate-it topic within the fandom, with many fans expressing their concerns that it ruins Toshinori's character/arc. It's no secret that I fall pretty firmly on the "love" side of camp-- and as is the case with all things I love, I can't love quietly or in moderation. So here's another really really really long post on all the reasons why I love it, and why I don't feel that this was character assassination in the slightest.

Breaking the key points down, I aim to discuss:

A) How Iron Might acts as a sort of resolution to Toshi's complex relationship with his body and injuries, and reconciles the divide between Toshinori's body and soul.

B) How Iron Might embodies MHA's definition of "love" and acts as a love letter to everything Toshinori wants to protect and everything he's ever wanted to protect. Iron Might is not meant to be read as a suicide mission, but as Toshinori weaponizing the joy of living as "Yagi Toshinori" and pitting the weight of his entire existence against AFO.

C) How Iron Might further cements MHA as "meta-fiction" through discussion of what being "quirkless" means on a narrative level + the dismantling of popular but overdone tropes that people have come to expect in comics. Toshi is also fighting for his right to exist in a battle manga against a toxic comic nerd who thinks that Toshi's role ended in Kamino and that he contributes more to the story by dying.

D) How Iron Might functions as a narrative device (i.e. It gets Toshinori to Izuku and Tomura). This is the battlefield where Toshi's character was always destined to end up because this is where all his unfinished business is at. Simple as!

"The body and mind are two halves of a whole" Iron Might as Toshinori coming to terms with his injuries and his body:

Kicking things off with this point bc I feel like... understanding how Toshi's relationship and struggles with his own body have been a major part of his character arc is something that's, like, absolutely essential when it comes to getting an accurate read on what Iron Might means to Toshi's character. Iron Might ultimately functions as a reconciliation between Toshinori's wounded body and heroic soul, so it's a bit sad to see people repeatedly dismissing it as "ruining Toshinori's character arc" without ever taking Toshi's relationship with his own body into consideration. Like, this is not some "insignificant" part of his arc that's being prioritized over everything else:

A collection of very relevant panels! Side note: Tsukauchi fumbling the toshibowl so hard that Toshi's car seems like the better romantic choice in comparison will never stop being funny. Aiba ur the only person in that control room i respect btw.

For the longest time Toshinori has viewed his emaciated, ill body as something pathetic and shameful. His body was something he felt that he *had* to hide from the world, in order to maintain the illusion of being a hero who could never possibly succumb to evil. His injuries and the state of his body cleaved his identity/self-perception in two-- he begins the series treating his actual body as the "secret identity" instead of his authentic self. The story doesn't spoonfeed this to the readers because it expects its readers to have enough empathy to put two-and-two together on their own-- That Toshi doesn't simply struggle with the loss of OFA & "All Might/heroism" in the aftermath of Kamino, but also the loss of what he felt was his "true" body.

Toshinori is very easily read as someone who suffers from intense body dysmorphia-- and him forcibly changing himself back into his muscular form over and over again can also quite easily be read as Toshi attempting to cling to whatever time he has left with the body that doesn't make him feel like a stranger in his own skin. It's him holding onto the self he views as "actually him" for as long as he can.

Toshi's arc is something that resonates with a lot of people who have disabilities or suffer from dysphoria-- So it's frustrating when some fans decide to take the least gracious interpretation of his character and issues and run with it, instead attempting to frame Toshi as some washed up attention seeker who ~simply can't let go of his glory days~. Toshi's character has been hit with a lot of ableism both in-universe and out of it, with the fandom only really acknowledging that he's a disabled man when it conveniences them and otherwise disregarding how this aspect of him plays a major role in his arc.

Iron Might is built to specifically resemble Toshi's "ideal" body-- to the bitter cynics, this supports their idea that Toshi is unable to let go of "All Might" and hasn't learned to value himself or his life as Yagi Toshinori. To those who understand what Toshi's been going through and understand that his arc was never *just* about "living," though, it's a different story altogether. So much of Iron Might symbolizes Toshinori coming to terms with the fact that he is a disabled man, accepting that there was never anything shameful about this, accepting that it never needed to be "hidden away" for him to be a hero-- and ultimately, accepting that his body is 100% him and an undeniable aspect of what makes him a hero, no matter how injured.

"Who's that skinny guy?" KID, LET ME TELL YOU A STORY.

There is a noticeable shift in Toshi's relationship with his body during Act 3-- We go from practically begging that Toshi's true form not be exposed to the public during Kamino, to Toshi encouraging that this fight be broadcast to the world. In the aftermath of Kamino and after losing the last embers of OFA, we still see Toshi forcibly shifting into his muscle form multiple times whenever he wants to "reassure" others, even though this process obviously hurts him:

The implications behind this are obvious: Toshi is not coping with the loss of his body as well as he lets on, and all those implications finally come to a painful head during the dark hero arc.

During his meeting with Stain, Stain outright refuses to recognize Toshi's "Muscle form" as "All Might" and instead makes it clear that it was Toshi's heroic soul that earned him the right to call himself a "true hero"--and that this "soul" still exists in everyone Toshi has ever saved. It never went away. The embers of OFA might have vanished, but the flames of Toshi's own heroism remain all around him-- they keep him warm and allow him to keep shining.

Toshi begins to accept his own body for the first time after his meeting with Stain-- we see him starting to reassure his friends as his authentic self instead of scrambling to shift back into his muscle form. During his last stand against AFO, he boldly shows the world his injured back, and wordlessly asks that they still express their faith in it and feel protected by it. His injuries are a part of him and his lived reality, and they're part of what makes him a human.

"--Because a hero's back exists to reassure others!"

Toshinori's body itself is ultimately included among his blessings that he weaponizes against AFO: his bonds, his origin, and his body-- no matter how badly injured it may be-- are all what defines him as a hero. Even if his back is no longer "broad," it will always be something that reminds others that "he is here."

During this fight, Toshinori reconciles his fractured identity by finally embracing all the aspects of himself that he'd previously grown distant from. Reflecting on the life he's led as Yagi Toshinori-- the life he led before he ever became "All Might" and the life he led after receiving his injuries and losing OFA-- is what gives him the strength to laugh in AFO's face, and it's what causes the light to finally return to his eyes. In the midst of a battle between life and death, we witness Toshinori being reborn.

He fully embraces his humanity during this fight, and then weaponizes that humanity against AFO (and considering AFO's character/how AFO is constantly attempting to escape his own humanity... it's pr delightful to see him getting his shit wrecked by another "god" who fell to earth and was forced to live his as a mortal, but ultimately realized that he loved it).

The battle ends with "All Might's" iconic shading now being used for Toshi's true form-- symbolizing the reconciliation between Toshi's heroic soul and his wounded but nevertheless heroic body.

As an aside: I also feel the context surrounding Iron Might/Toshi's body touches on MHA's theme of "consent versus nonconsent" as something that separates true heroes from true villains (starting from AFO forcing a quirk on Yoichi, cumulating with Toshi offering Izuku OFA and later making it clear that the quirk requires Izuku's explicit consent to be passed on-- OFA being born from an act of utter violation and then turned into something that explicitly requires consent always been one of my favorite aspects of MHA's lore, but I digress). During Kamino, AFO forcibly exposed Toshi's body to the world in an effort to completely humiliate him and destroy the public's image of him. Now, Toshi taking his power back and exposing his true form to the world entirely on his own terms.

"All that I've been blessed with will bear its weight against you!"-- or, Iron Might as a love letter.

I've talked on this point a lot bc it's what enamored me immediately with this fight (which is really about the depth of Toshinori's love and the love others have for him and his willingness to BE loved by others -versus- a man who takes advantage of the love others have for him and is utterly unable to leave his fragile heart at the mercy of others out of fear of ppl perceiving him), so I'll try to keep it brief:

Iron Might embodies the essence of how MHA defines love (love is admiration, love is imitation, love is seeing/watching, etc) while also acting as Toshinori's love letter to everything he wants to protect (himself and his life as "Yagi Toshinori" included). It also embodies the essence of how MHA defines true heroism (those who have been blessed should use their blessings for those who have not been blessed, those who can still act must act, etc etc etc ).

Toshi would not have been able to pull off Class 1A's moves or found the best way to integrate them into a cohesive fighting style without love as imitation/watching/admiration. (again, versus AFO, who at this point just randomly fires off powerful quirks without any actual respect for how the quirks work or how they can support each other, & who doesn't admire his own student beyond his capacity for rage).

This battle is a celebration of the bonds Toshi has allowed himself to form. It's him using everything he's ever been given and everything he's ever been blessed with to fight against a man who only knows how to take things away. Toshi has learned that OFA was never what made him a hero, that he can live without OFA-- and he's pitting the weight of that life against a man who is convinced that OFA is everything, who can't move on from it, and who has built his entire existence around getting it back. AFO wins the physical battle, sure, but Toshi remains the clear winner in the war of existences.

"This story is still being written, Toshinori."

Another aside: Names are everything in MHA, and that's especially true in the final act. MHA treats names like incantations, and “Do your best, Toshinori!” is the magic spell Toshi is using to motivate himself. Hori frequently uses how a person chooses to refer to themselves during key scenes as a way of emphasizing a person's mental state. From this, we can deduce that Toshi doesn't view this fight as All Might vs. AFO-- he views this fight as Toshinori vs. AFO.

Toshinori has weaponized his blessings and bonds and is now hitting back at AFO with the full weight of his complete existence. In this fight, he carves the joy of living-- of being Yagi Toshinori-- into AFO's barren, empty soul. Every scene he flashes back to is a scene of the life he has lived as Toshinori, not as All Might. This fight, just like the rest of the war, is all about "love" in all its various forms. AFO's abuse of love (both of his own deeply hidden love and of the love others have for him) is why he cannot win in a war where love is the essential element-- love is what keeps motivating everyone in this war to keep getting up, to keep struggling, to keep reaching out, etc etc etc.

Moving on.

"I'm quirkless. Born without a role." or, Iron Might as an act of defiance against both the narrative and the expectations of the 'battle manga' genre.

MHA being an example of stealth meta-fiction is something I've talked about before, particularly so with these two posts (plus... basically any post about our favorite cringefail LARPer, AFO).

Horikoshi takes full advantage of the medium/the fact that MHA is a manga and uses every tool that's available to both tell and enhance the story, and these chapters have cemented him as someone who has mastered his craft-- The decision to draw Toshi's true self with thick/bold lines after his armor breaks, the dark shadows finally leaving his eyes, Toshi consistently referring to himself by his own name instead of his hero name, the chapter titles, the backgrounds, etc etc etc all of it. Absolutely everything has meaning.

Through Iron Might, we once again delve into how the series chooses to define "quirklessness"-- the idea that quirklessness is meant to be a disability allegory gets more or less debunked (thankfully, since MHA already has a fairly good track record with depicting ACTUAL mental and physical illnesses/disabilities), with the narrative instead framing the possession of a quirk as something that determines what "role" a person gets in life. The implication being that not having a quirk means you don't get a role, period. You don't get to shine brightly on stage, you don't even get to be an "extra." This fits into the previously established idea that society's biases against "villainous quirks" basically railroad a lot of people onto the path of villainy (plus, the treatment of heroes/villains as fictional characters by the masses instead of viewing them as actual people). But, quirks are just quirks-- they're neither good or evil, and they aren't what determine whether a person is a hero or a villain. And as such, having or not having a quirk isn't what determines whether or not someone is truly a hero.

Toshinori is now defying the narrative that states that not having a quirk means you don't get a role. At the same time, he stands up against AFO-- our resident toxic comic book fanboy who sincerely believes Toshi should have picked Kamino as the best time to "bow out" (read: die) as a character-- who spews all sorts of vile things about the state of Toshi's body and how this is the primary reason why Toshi has no place in the story. The satire practically writes itself.

Like so many other characters, Toshinori uses the "role" of All Might as a coping mechanism for much of the series. As already stated, there is a disconnect between Toshinori's body and his soul--Toshi begins to use All Might as a mask to hide his feelings, his fears, and his humanity from the rest of the world. The series draws attention to the fact that the people forgot about the heart and soul--that is, the person-- behind All Might and started treating him like a character instead of a real person, and it's made clear that Toshinori forgot, too.

AFO is still trying to hide his true self in the role of the demon king, but Toshinori is no longer trying to hide himself behind All Might. AFO thinks Toshinori should have died in Kamino because that's where his "role" as a "character" ended, but Toshinori refuses that end. Both men find their origins in fiction (AFO from captain hero, Toshinori from Anpanman) but only Toshi has managed to reconcile his identity, break free of the story, and meet AFO head on as a human instead of a character. AFO is still hiding and refusing to engage with this story as a real person.

Toshi's overshadowed eyes are also heavily implied to be a side effect of him completely losing himself in the role of "All Might," rather than merely being the result of the injury he got from AFO-- we see that his eyes were already overshadowed long before he ever received his fateful injury, and the emphasis on shadowed eyes is also a design quirk that ties him to AFO (whose eyes were constantly hidden by shadows bc he was constantly LARPing as a demon lord instead of being authentic-- To drive this bit of visual story telling home, Hori emphasizes AFO's eyes whenever the "demon king" mask starts to slip and we start seeing peeks of what an utter sad sap of a person AFO is beneath the mask). It's a clever bit of show-don't-tell and another testament to Hori's art direction. Eyes are forever the window to the heart and soul in MHA, and Toshi reconnecting with his heart and soul-- with what defines him as a person-- is what finally causes the light to return to his eyes. The mask is fully off.

"Midoriya Izuku and Yagi Toshinori ~ Midoriya Izuku and Shigaraki Tomura ~ Shigaraki Tomura and....?"-- Or, Iron Might as a Narrative Tool.

(reminds u that the pivotal/trajectory changing chapters known as 304 and 305 were titled "Midoriya Izuku and Yagi Toshinori" and "Midoriya Izuku and Tomura Shigaraki". These three are the key!)

Changing gears for a sec and speaking purely from a writer's perspective: Iron Might simply couldn't have been included at Gunga and Toshi simply couldn't have remained locked up in a surveillance room for the entirety of the final battle-- because Toshinori's final destination as a character was always supposed to be the Izuku and Tomura fight. That's where his role as a character was always supposed to reach fruition and find his resolution:

"--I want to save that little boy!"

Aura!Might shedding tears when he realizes that Izuku wants to save Tomura and that Izuku has redefined OFA as something that exists to save is one of those underrated character moments that deserves more attention, because it's like. Everything. One of the most important scenes in the series by a large margin.

Izuku's declaration tells us everything we need to know about the trajectory of the series. Aura!Might crying in response to that declaration gives us everything we need to anticipate where his character is heading and to understand why Toshi's arc isn't over until he finally reconciles his business/regrets with Tomura & OFA/Nana.

it's heavily implied that real!Toshi was crying, too, after he felt what vestige!Izuku said. His eyes are hidden, but we see him briefly wiping his tears away. (and this is one of the many things I love about MHA-- there are so many lovely little details that add so much to the story. You just gotta be willing to look for them.)

Anyway! This point really speaks for itself, so I won't get into it too much: Tomura/Izuku's battlefield is where Toshi was always supposed to end up-- it's where he obviously needs to be to wrap up the loose strings in his arc, hear Izuku's "I am here" moment, and "change fate" by Izuku's side (not necessarily just his own fate, but also Tomura's). Iron Might is just a way that gets Toshi from point A to Point B while allowing Toshinori's character to shine as brightly as possible.

TL;DR The stage is finally set, the main characters have finally assembled, and now we get to see how the grand finale plays out.

-- -- -- -- --

In summation: Iron Might is sappy, sentimental, and fueled entirely by heart rather than logic-- and it's everything I love about this series.

[vantaesfairie]

𝔭𝔦𝔠𝔨 𝔞 𝔠𝔞𝔯𝔡 : 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔦𝔯 𝔩𝔞𝔱𝔢 𝔫𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔰 𝔞𝔟𝔬𝔲𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲 (𝔯𝔬𝔪𝔞𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔠)

atlty’s tarot readings - dm for paid readings and prices!

choose a picture below:

pile 1, group of pigeons:

they want to give to you emotionally. they think of you as someone who they really want to woo. it’s heavy ‘i’m going to take a boom box and play love songs under your window or send you handwritten poetry’ vibes. they want to show passionate emotion towards you. this sounds like a very very kind and romantic pile. they want to start a family with you, be loved and supported by you. they think about being happy with you and watching the sunset and the rainbows with you while your kids (children or animal depends) play around beside you two. they think about achieving non material fulfilment with you, you’re perfect in their eyes. they seem like a creative and romantic person, this is so sweet 🥹 and they also think of you as someone who’s very queenly. they want to live a life of comfort with you. watch you succeed and blossom. definitely see you as someone with financial independence or budding. they look at you like this self sufficient, abundant person who will be successful in their older years. this is very traditional feeling, like they want to get you, meet your family, start a family, and watch you become this queen in their eyes no matter your age. lucky pile 1 tbh

messages: “let’s start a family” “you look so damn good” “please let me show you” “i want you, only you” “draw with me?”

pile 2, dark brown pigeons:

they definitely have some sort of sexual thoughts when they see you. they’re a passionate person and gets excited (wink wink) when they see you. definitely enjoys the chase. they think of you at night, and definitely fantasises about your body and your looks. they feel so hopeful when they think about your connection in the future, like they would do anything to keep it going and devote their emotional energy into it too. they think of you as someone who’s angelic, optimistic, innocent in a way that feels very fresh. it feels like they’re quite optimistic and enjoy being with you. i got a specific message they may enjoy or you may like stargazing. it’s a new infatuation, adolescent crush energy and it’s very playful. they want to show you that they really want you and they may express that artistically. they keep coming up with new ways to impress you and they may act cute to get you to smile. if you were guided towards pile 1, read it too, because this sounds like a more nsfw version of pile 1.

messages: “i love your body” “come on, let’s go” “do you want to watch me?” “your eyes are really pretty”

pile 3, light brown pigeons: 

this person is in a bit of a dark time now. especially at night, they get kind of depressed and unhappy. it feels like they might be in a bit of an emotional or financial rut. they feel despair when they think about you, like you two just fought and nobody won so both parties are just upset at each other even more. there’s an inner conflict and an outer one (the fight). they feel like there is nothing in common about you two, and that they are having a hard time to try and get to you in all aspects. however they really want to reconcile with you, there’s definitely a hidden mutual bond and attraction. they want to initiate the reconciliation and even though you two might not end up romantically, they at least want to be friends with you harmoniously without fighting. they think a lot about how to do that, and how to be compatible with you and both have an equal exchange of efforts. they miss you, they want to stop this unhappiness. they just feel like you’re an outcast to their life now, you don’t know them and vice versa. they crave that partnership with you deeply.

messages: “i’m so tired” “can we please stop” “we can start again” “do you want to try again?” “i’ll be the first one to initiate”

i’m so sorry for those who saw an empty post lol 🫶🏻

likes and reblogs are heavily appreciated! check out my paid readings if you’re interested. have a nice day!

[professional-yapper]

Wordless

Warnings: Aonung taking responsibility for his actions albeit reluctantly, Aonung cannot physically form the word sorry without gagging

It's only when Jake says, "Aonung," in a tight, cold voice that Neteyam realises the chief's son is standing in their doorway, his broad shadow spilling across the floor.

Lo'ak hisses from where he sits in front of Kiri as she redoes a couple of his braids at Neytiri's request, nimble fingers working her usual magic.

The rasp of the cloth against Jake's gun grows louder, almost like a threat as he stares silently at Aonung, awaiting the boy's reason for intruding.

Even Tuk, who has, for some reason, taken a liking to Aonung, turns her little nose up and looks away like she didn't see him.

Neteyam surveys Aonung for a moment, notes the basket tucked under his arm with flax poking out, then huffs, shaking his head and making his braids rattle, turning back to helping Neytiri with dinner, though it isn't for a few hours yet.

"My father has asked that I teach your sons to weave," Aonung announces, but has the good grace to look slightly ashamed of himself as he adjusts his grip on the basket.

"Do you plan to try and kill one of them again afterwards?" Kiri said bitingly, not looking up from her work.

"Hey, babygirl, he's trying to apologise," Jake said firmly, which Neteyam thought was a load of shit, considering Aonung; a) hadn't said sorry or anything of the sort, and b) didn't look apologetic at all. But Jake must've seen something in Aonung's face, because he then barked at Neteyam and Lo'ak to go with Aonung. Something about reconciliation and keeping in the chief's good books.

Neteyam couldn't resist knocking his shoulder against Aonung's as he followed Lo'ak out of the marui, despite Jake calling his name warningly. He pretended not to hear, anyway, as he let Aonung lead him and Lo'ak down to a lower platform of the village, where it was relatively shady, and they could dangle their legs in the water.

Not that Neteyam did. He pulled his knees right up to his chest like a sulking kid, curling his toes into the woven, springy surface beneath. There was something very freeing about being angry. Maybe that's why Lo'ak got angry so much.

Lo'ak wasn't angry now, though. Didn't seem even remotely irritated by the current situation, sitting down on the edge of the platform and kicking at the water, lips curling in a smile as he watched a few fish swim away in fright.

How he wasn't still angry with Aonung was a mystery, Neteyam thought as Aonung knelt and began scooping flax out of the basket in great armfuls, spreading it out on the platform evenly, the ripples on his arms shifting with the movement.

Aonung cleared his throat, deliberately not looking at Neteyam. Good. "Weaving is easy once you get the hang of it," he began, and Neteyam held his breath in anticipation of the biting comment to follow. Even little kids can do it, probably.

But no comment came, and there was simply a brief moment of silence as Lo'ak drew his legs out of the water and turned, mimicking Aonung's position, brushing his fingers against the flax briefly, taking in the foreign texture.

"Flax is durable," Aonung continued, selecting pieces of flax and stripping them in half to make thinner pieces, laying them down flat. "That's why we use it for our homes and the platforms. It's waterproof, and doesn't rot."

Finally, he glanced at Neteyam, and Neteyam scowled back, hugging his knees tighter and dropping his eyes to the flax.

Lo'ak huffed out a little laugh, glancing at Neteyam, stretching an arm out to tug on a few of Neteyam's braids, earning a slap on his hand. "Stop it, skxwang!" Neteyam said warningly.

Aonung ducked his head, hiding a smile, and cleared his throat, redirecting the brothers' attention back to the weaving. "So, you start by lining thin pieces up like this, using something to pin the ends down, like a piece of wood or your leg," he explained, shifting his leg to lay flat across the ends of the flax, holding it down. "Then you just weave more thin pieces from the side, going over and under these pieces." He pats the vertically lying pieces of flax as he weaves the first flax strip through deftly.

Lo'ak looks genuinely interested for once, leaning forward, eyes fixed on Aonung's big, yet surprisingly gentle hands as they work the strips through one by one.

Neteyam stays where he is, but lowers his knees, choosing to cross his legs instead, resting his chin in his hand.

"This is just- one of the simplest types of weaving," Aonung said as the piece began to form beneath his hands, glancing from Lo'ak to Neteyam.

"Let me try," Lo'ak said eagerly, giving Aonung a little push, taking the older, bigger boy's seat.

Neteyam felt his frown deepen. Lo'ak was seriously acting like nothing had happened. Was he mental?!

"Okay, okay," Aonung chuckled, moving aside, smiling a little at Lo'ak as the younger boy took ahold of the flax strips, trying to mimic Aonung's actions. And doing pretty well, Neteyam noticed.

Lo'ak's extra fingers must be a blessing in this situation, Neteyam thought, as his brother employed all of his fingers to tuck the strips through, securely and tightly, as Aonung had.

"That's good," Aonung said, sounding mildly surprised, leaning over Lo'ak's shoulder, squinting at the piece. "That's really good, forest boy."

Lo'ak didn't say anything, didn't even look up from his work, but Neteyam saw a smile flash across his baby brother's face, and his heart warmed, even if his head was telling him Aonung was still a dick. Even if he was apparently trying to make it up to them.

"You want a go?" Aonung offered, looking up at Neteyam.

Neteyam just shook his head. "Maybe another day. I'll just watch for now."

Aonung shrugged and didn't push the matter further, for which Neteyam was grateful, even if he still thought he shouldn't be.

"I'll teach you some other time, then," Aonung said, shrugging again and turning back to Lo'ak.

Neteyam sighed, shifting himself to the edge of the platform so he could dangle his legs in the water, letting the sharp ocean breeze and sigh of the waves blend with the voices of Aonung and Lo'ak, talking quietly behind him, punctuated by the occasional bout of laughter.

He could think now.

If Lo'ak had forgiven Aonung, Neteyam might as well. There was no point in holding a grudge against the chief's son. Nothing good would come of it, even if said son was still probably a massive dick and was only here because his father made him.

But the sincerity of Aonung's actions could be pondered later. For now, Neteyam was content to sit and enjoy the warm weather and the waves lapping against his calves.

@pinknipszz here you go baddie slay queen 🩷👑

Hope you like it! Didn't turn out as well as I was hoping but I did finish this like two minutes before going out 😂

[giurochedadomani]

Something, something, wip, something, something, a more serious take on the mishanks reconciliation, something, something, it's unintentionally hilarious to write misunderstandings in the middle of a situation that is quite angsty.

“Shanks”. 

Benn was right, probably. Certainly. For sure. He was right about the whole, trying to make it work with Mihawk without talking things out first. It's kind of Shanks’ fault, really, the fact that things have gotten so carried out before he dared to breach the subject. 

“...It's just that you treat me like I’m made of glass, kind of? Like…”, he trails off, not sure how to state in cold facts what he perceives as Mihawk’s general unease in his presence. “With the, the migraine. Or the other day, at the bar”, or that first day, the moment he suggested going for a walk alone. The words start tumbling down in a rush the more he thinks about it. “And I get it, I do. I know you, uh, have your reservations about my current situation, but—”. 

“Shanks”. 

“I don’t think that’s fair for me, either, because it always feels as if I have to make it up to you for some unknown slight and. And. What I'm trying to say is that I know that you’re like, personally offended because I don’t have an arm, but that is much more your problem than it is mine, and while you make up your mind about—”. 

Mihawk’s hand is clammy when he puts it over his mouth, or perhaps he’s just sweaty. In the face of the swordsman’s visceral anger, Shanks almost follows the first instinct which tells him to lick it. 

Instead, he breathes laboriously through Mihawk's improvised gag until the other deems him calm enough to speak. 

“—I really, really do not need your pity”, he finishes the moment the swordsman’s hand stops silencing him, and faces the ensuing glare without so much as a twitch. 

But then the other’s shoulders’ slump and he looks… Dejected? Kind of sad. Helpless, even, even if it feels wrong to describe Mihawk as such. 

Shanks cannot, for the love of all that’s beautiful in the Grand Line, actually parse the swordsman’s behavior. He’s the one who crossed an ocean and offered him a metaphorical olive branch in the form of Luffy’s poster. If he regretted being on speaking terms with him, why has he kept coming back? What, did he expect him to have grown out his arm again, all of the sudden? 

He has even vaguely contemplated the hypothesis that Mihawk might want to get him into some kind of trap for the Marines, that the whole reconciliation is some sort of ruse, yet not even Benn buys the idea the times he’s discussed it with him. It doesn’t sound like Mihawk, agreeing to come back to Shanks just for the sake of doing the tedious, roundabout and kind of humiliating work of playing honeypot, yet— 

“...You invited me over for a drink”, Mihawk starts slowly. Weirdly insecure, for some reason? Punctuating the words as if he’s talking in a language he doesn’t totally get and wants to make sure that he’s being understood. Shanks nods, encouraging. “That then turned into a visit to Robelle, which then turned into—” us cuddling drunk on board, “me staying overnight”. Another nod. A bit puzzled, he sees how Mihawk… hesitates? And seems to think through the words before settling in: “I wasn’t sure you’d want to do that sort of thing with me. Again”, with a kind of intensity Shanks would personally reserve for relaying the location of Laugh Tale. 

…

“What, go on a date?”, he blurts, stopping on his tracks when Mihawk.

Stares.  

[twst-drabbles]

Riddle 17

Summary: When the Roseling gets angry with his fellow nymphs, he goes to you to cool off while the others attempt to make things right.

(Forgot to say it was my birthday a few days ago. Whoops.)

Riddle didn’t walk up to you so much as he rocketed to your shoulder with a jump from his roots and planted his butt down with a cross-armed huff.

“Hmm?” you tilted your head, giving his back a little scratch that was met with a whack from his arm, “What happened this time little buddy? Who pissed you off?”

His little rose body trembled with the anger of a thousand suns. You could probably put a soda on his head and he’d make it explode. As though popcorn kernel, Riddle stood up and yelled out a combination of leaf-rubbing squeaks, crisps clicks and just general high-pitched screams.

You do not understand a word of it but you knew it best he let it all out. Though, in all seriousness, what did set him off? His face was getting rather dark.

Finally, he ran out of breath, puffing in and out as though Riddle can’t handle the sheer force of his rage. And from behind you, you picked up some frantic rustling.

A chorus of little pips and squeaks sounded out before Trey, Cater, Ace and Deuce all jumped out of the grass. On their necks were little thistle-collars, absolutely forced on them by an angry Riddle.

Held above their heads was a rich red rose, its petals crystallized to look like those candied roses you still have. Honestly, it would’ve been a copy had it not been for the golden sap leaking out of the base of the rose. Clearly it was slapped on just now to hold all the petals together.

And as though to prove your point, a petal slid right off and onto Cater’s face. He struggled but Trey was close enough to grab it and slap it back onto the rose.

“…oh boy…” The attempt to stick it back together was endearing, but, from what you’ve gathered, this was rose was probably Riddle’s very first success after months of trying. You can understand the anger of this perfectionist of a pet you have.

You sighed and placed a hand on Riddle just in case he decided to dip elsewhere. You gently shooed the bound nymphs away.

“Give him some time,” you said, knowing that attempts to apologize will only get Riddle more riled up, “go do something else.”

While the sad pull of their small faces did sting a little, you knew what the results of trying to force a reconciliation would be. Whenever you got too angry to properly get through the day, Crowley’s attempts to talk you out of the bad mood only irritated you into not talking to him for a few days. As such, you’re pretty sure Riddle needs time to sort himself out before attempting such a thing.

And just to give Riddle some privacy, since you can see little tears at the corners of his eyes, you turn just enough so your neck hid him.

“It’ll be alright, just continue on with your day without him, I’ll be with him.” It certainly says something for Riddle to always come to you when his anger reaches this point. You guess he just really hates being alone when he gets this way.

You patted his head, smiling when he didn’t move away. If anything, he adjusted himself and hugged your palm.

You’re sure Riddle can make that crystal rose again. He just needs time.