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#( i hope i interpreted it right and the response is fine but if not let me know! )
l0vem41l · 1 month
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something's wrong with the morning.
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「 tws + notes: no tws, unedited 2 the max, potentially ooc but WHO GAF (me. igaf), he misreads tone over text and it's totally not me projecting, bros just a little anxious and its totally not me projecting, richard "acts of service" grayson in the real, pretty heavily romantic implied but it can be interpreted as platonic becuz we fw that here!!!!! 」
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「 gn!reader, can be platonic or romantic <3 」
↳ ft. richard "dick" grayson/nightwing
author's note: yes i am uh. doing More dc stuff. guys im really sorry but its literally leeching off my brain like a parasite i fear. enjoy!!!!!!! ♪(´▽`) <3 the lyric below is what i based this off of but as usual, GENDER NEUTRAL READER!!!
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"and how something's wrong with the morning / when he doesn't phone to say he loves me"
dick has been staring at the text since the minute he received it.
“gm.”
you sent two letters. and a period at the end.
immediately, there's a weird feeling he gets— a pit forming in the depths of his stomach as he reads it over and over again, as if he expects it to magically change in front of his eyes.
you usually send something… more in the morning. you greet him happily and use a silly nickname, he greets you and uses a silly nickname back. it's sort of tradition for the two of you, mainly built on the fact that him being a vigilante leaves very little time for the two of you.
so what the hell happened to that tradition? where’s his “good morning pookie!” or “hope you slept well, sunshine :]” that he's grown so accustomed to?
of course, he has to go on with his day like usual. at least, he's trying his best. to his credit, he does pretty well. after all, dick grayson is a performer at heart! even if it secretly feels like a part of his world just collapsed in on itself, he does not sulk about it.
but to the observant, there's obviously been a shift.
the slightly irritable mood he’s been in? definitely normal. the fact that he’s been swiping away every notification with disinterest if it’s not you? totally nothing.
more astute criminals in blüdhaven are a little off put by the fact that nightwing is still at full quip capacity while hitting just a little harder and being just a teeny bit more bitchy.
there nervous speculation going around that next week he'll be in the discowing fit
nightwing notices that his mask is slipping a bit. but does he care? well... not really. what's more important to him is what's going on inside his head. and he's been thinking— hardcore reflecting on every single recent previous interaction with you, looking back to everything that must’ve made things go wrong.
maybe he should’ve let you win that one argument last monday, even though he’d been pretty certain he was right because you really aren't supposed to stack cards in uno that way.
or maybe “anything’s fine” as a response to you asking what he wanted for dinner was the wrong move— he knew you hated when he didn’t help your indecisiveness.
was it the movie he picked for movie night on your hangout? fuck, that might've been it, you totally hate the main actor. how could he have forgotten?
either way, he’s dead set on the fact he did something to piss you off and now you won’t even greet him good morning.
later in the afternoon, you find a cute little basket on your doorstep containing your favorite flowers, your favorite snacks… and an apology note??
“dick,” you message, “what’s going on?”
he doesn’t reply back. instead, he calls you.
before you can even greet him, his voice chimes in with a whole spiel you didn't expect to be hit with.
“i messed up. i know i did and i should've done better. and i’m so sorry, i wanna make this work and i just— from the bottom of my heart— i really, truly apologize—”
you blink several times at your phone before interrupting. “oookay, woah, woah, woah. let's slow down. the fuck are you apologizing for?”
“...your message this morning.” he mumbles out, barely audible. you can hear the pout in his voice somehow.
“what? the one i typed up while rushing to work?” it’s hard to stifle your laughter. “dude, i just woke up a little late. i promise i still love you.”
he doesn't know whether to feel more relieved that you're not actually upset with him or embarrassed about the drastic, immediate measures he took to make things right. things being absolutely nothing, because obviously you weren't gonna be petty over uno rules, nondecisions, or movies.
"you should come over. we can share the snacks if you get here in time." click.
he'll be at your door the minute patrol is done. not for the snacks though it is a nice bonus but to see you. lord knows you need the time together.
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— reblogs always appreciated!
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spockandawe · 1 year
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Double edit: actually, that's enough of that.
Edit: I was expecting maybe thirty notes tops. This is a surprise, and one that doesn't delight me. If I hear about any harassment stemming from this post, I'll be more pissed at the harasser than the person this is about.
God. Dammit.
I hate this, let's just out that out there! I'm unhappy that I'm talking about any of this, I'm unhappy there's an issue that's come up at the intersection of media preservation, respecting authors, and one of my favorite book series. And I'm unhappy that I've censored the names in the screenshots I'm about ti post! I'm not happy that I'm helping to slide consequences away from someone who thought this was an acceptable thing to do to a modern working author. But I'm even less happy this is something that happened in the first place, and I'm VERY unhappy the original post has been deleted without a whisper of accountability or apology.
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And here's a partial screenshot of the IA page, which has since been removed. I get the excitement to share something you love with a new audience. This isn't the right way to go about it.
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First, if Martha Wells' patreon is still in place, I encourage everyone in the strongest possible terms to go sign up for it. It'll charge you one dollar. I've been a member since probably 2018, and I mistakenly believed it was locked to new members (it's labeled 'Currently Closed To New Patrons') until I had reason to look it up last night, when I tripped across this reddit post from earlier this year.
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Now. I was looking it up because of this sudden patreon message:
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Even if the patreon goes away, I still recommend that people sign up. Explore the stories! They're very fun! Even though the patreon has been dormant for years, I've loved having that repository in place.
In fact, in the interest of full disclosure, what kept me from immediately reblogging last night is that I've felt the same archival urges! I bound a hard copy of these stories earlier this year, and let me quote my own words from that post:
I live in a state of perpetual low key stress over the impermanence of digital media and that goes extra for sites that aren’t designed to work well as archives. I hope, desperately, that someday Martha Wells publishes more raksura, maybe even including these stories! I will buy it immediately. No thoughts, wallet empty. I own all her other raksura books in literally three formats, fingers crossed that by printing this, I can actualize a formal official printing of these stories by the author 😂
So. Archiving, yes. But especially with a living, working author, I would never DREAM of posting a public free-for-all with IA and mediafire links. My most charitable interpretation is that OP thought it was fine since the stories were "free," even though the writeups acknowledge that access costs a dollar. Ao3 is also free. Reposting someone else's fic is still understood to be a dick move.
Last night i was left kind of stunned, and I was hoping to see some kind of response from op this morning taking responsibility, and was... disappointed to see that the post was just deleted. The IA listing was deleted too, and I hadn't actually looked up the mediafire post yet but I'm guessing it's also been nuked. Out of curiosity, I wanted to see if there was anything more in the comments, so I found a surviving reblog. And there was!
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So I'm writing this post because I'm... frustrated. Taking down the files is a good step. Posting them publicly was a worse step, but hey. I still more than understand if Martha Wells still deletes her patreon. I don't understand what sending her files of her own stories is meant to accomplish, but whatever. Ascribing a profit-driven motive is driving me up a wall, though. She's financially stable. I read her email, and what i see is frustration that even though it only cost a dollar to access 62k of her work through her own chosen location, control of her writing is being forcibly removed from her. I'm sure that seeing copies sold by third parties wouldn't help, but I don't think that's the root issue.
This is a fandom-heavy website, I'm sure most of us have seen posts about not reposting art when you can share directly from the artist's blog. I've seen posts about stop copying your ao3 faves over to wattpad just because you like reading there better. At a fundamental level, I read the message from Martha Wells as a deep frustration at having no way to share her creative work without someone removing control of it from her hands. And I don't know if there's any way to really take back that damage.
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detectiveneve · 1 year
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How To Know If Your Evil Vampire Boygirlfriend Really Likes You (a meta on Astarion's manipulations of Tav deeper into the romance.)
Okay, this was supposed to be a response to this ask right here, and it got so long I decided to just put it in its own thing for slightly easier reading. Thank you again to the asker for giving me an excuse to go off the rails talking about THE BOY. This also got long enough that it needs. Subheadings. And it is [checks notes] 3.6k words long. If you're interested in skipping the act 2 Scene Breakdown and going straight for the character analysis of Act 3 specifically, you can jump to the uhhh 3. Yeah He's Manipulative (Trauma Edition) subheading.
Prefacing that this is just my personal interpretation of Astarion here, the game leaves several moments ambiguous on purpose & I'd be super intrigued to hear what anyone else thinks is going on in this rancid little lad's head. This became more of a process of breaking down what I think he's doing in each scene than anything else, so I hope it's interesting to... you? reader? Since it's a bit long-winded and a lot of speculation and interpretation on my part for his wild ass behavior.
(Also, I haven't played far enough with an ascended Astarion to properly break down the differences between both--he'll have his own playthrough for sure but since I haven't gone far enough in that path, all of this is with no-ritual Astarion in mind) (I also don't have screenshots for everything but hopefully that's alright. just trust me bro.)
Fair warning, I didn't proof-read this & I moved paragraphs around so if it sounds incoherent that's a feature not a bug. Now. Let's get into the EVIDENCE.
1. but did he mean the kisses????
So, before the hug scene, the game leaves us a bit of room to interpret the progression of the relationship. I kind of wish we had one extra scene to sort of solidify his growing feelings in the in-between period of his "I'm just sleeping with you to secure my safety here," era (pre-confession as we'll call it) and his "oh shit I actually kind of care about you," era (post-confession, pre-ritual), but I understand why it wasn't included. Game mechanics & cost aside, the space between these two periods is left entirely up to player interpretation, & has lots of room for HC up to each individual player & Tav.
To address the easiest examples the asker gave, the repeatable kiss dialogues are all ones I'm going to mark under "sincere." Mostly because those are all post-confession, and after Astarion has acknowledged to himself (& the player) that he doesn't want to do anything sexual, but presumably kissing is fine (given that he's enthusiastic about the kisses & will shut down sex/intimacy acts otherwise.)
There's not really a logic to him being slinky here, and I didn't interpret any of his post-kiss repeated dialogues as insincere, much more so playful or coy or cheeky. The voice acting is subtle here, but I found it to be much more playful than his annoying little, for lack of a better word, purring "hello, beautiful" etc etc in act 1 / early act 2. Also, all these dialogues stay the same after the ritual happens, and your romance has been solidified in the grave scene, where he wholly says:
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"I feel safe with you. Seen. And whatever the future holds for me, I don't want to lose that."
^ Not a lie. So I think we can mark off those particular dialogue as sincere.
In act 2, there aren't really a lot of places for Astarion to actually get into his manipulative tendencies. He overtly needs your aid with Yurgir (Repeat after me: thank you for helping me. It was very kind.) so he doesn't really manipulate you at... all...? in my opinion? Act 2 shows you his most sincere moment yet in the confession/hug scene. He is not lying. He is more honest in those moments than he has been in the entire game, and it shows in his wording, his body language. He's uncertain of himself, maybe. He doesn't know what to make of the situation yet. He says as much to Tav when you ask him "What are we?" and he says:
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"I don't know. But isn't it nice? Not to know. You're not a victim. Not a target. Not just one night it's better to forget. But then... whatever in the world could you be?"
He has no reason to say that without sincerity. He could say you're his specialest babygirl if he wanted to keep up the lie. And other than helping him with Raphael, there's really not a moment where Astarion has an opportunity to manipulate you....
EXCEPT.
EXCEPT. For this moment in particular. which is one of my FAVORITE Astarion ones because it is gloriously bitchy.
2. what if we took over a cult, babe.
Context first: I played a paladin of devotion, rough around the edges but fairly good-aligned Tav. She was a bit of a jerk but she saved people for free, and I adhered to her dialogue roleplay hard, choosing the "destroy the Absolute" dialogues at every turn. I don't have a save for this scene sadly otherwise I'd replay it and compare/contrast answers like a pepe silvia meme, so I'm only able to break this scene down from that particular lens.
Secondary context: This scene is important because it highlights Astarion's manipulative routine while still with a Tav he's very fond of (exceptional approval in this scene) and the way he lays it out is necessary to understand the moments later where he tries to manipulate Tav again, since it has components of the same themes, ideas, and tendencies that go on.
So, Astarion will hit you with this hot take early-ish on.
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"You know. I feel a connection between us. Like we're two souls walking the same path (...)" Astarion establishes emotional connection, and a foundation of similarity/commonality/shareed interest. This is pretty standard fare for him. He does the same thing a lot early in act one, where he's almost CONSTANTLY asking you to "trust him," (when you really should not.)
"You might be a little naive in the ways of the world, but I see promise in you. Ambition." - He kind of snidely reveals what he actually thinks--you're a bit naive, you "have a big heart,"--he's hoping that his emotional cloying and little comment and connection with Tav will be enough to sway them over to what he wants to do, and they'll give him what he wants because We're So Similar, See?
"So I was thinking, what would be the right thing do when we get to Moonrise Towers?" - He wields his language carefully. The right thing to do. That's a language he thinks Tav speaks. An interest in doing the Right Thing; so, he adjusts accordingly. He wants to do the right thing too, you see, and the right thing conveniently lines up with what he actually wants, which is real power. Astarion confesses he's not a details guy, yada yada, then--
"If we can take that control from them, imagine the power we'd wield." <- He lets slip what he's actually interested in. Astarion generally can't keep a charade up for too long. His real thoughts always come through, and he reveals his hand in conversations often, but usually in offhanded ways and, well--he's never made a secret really of where his actual interests lie. His attempts at currying your favor and persuading you (and you can really feel the persuasion here) are prettyyyyy overt, but still, he's trying anyways.
"I'm just saying there's an opportunity here. If we can control the tadpoles, we can keep ourselves safe and liberate the world from this evil." <- He brings the conversation back around to what's more neutral than Absolute Power -- keeping ourselves safe. He uses the We and Us language a lot when he wants to convince other people of anything, really. "We're all such good, trusting friends!" he'll say, lying through his FUCKING teeth. His manipulations here are like.... pretty clear, but he still gets an A for effort for trying to align himself with Tav & Tav's perceived goals & see if he can wriggle in his own in the process, put "become god-cult-leader" up as a Reasonable and Rational thing to Want to achieve.
The actual question here: does he care about Tav at this point? Up for interpretation, but I'm going to say yes with... the caveat that I don't think he's fully acknowledged it to himself, and I don't think it's love here. It is high approval though. I do think he cares about Tav, I do think he's including Tav in longer-term goals, he's depending on Tav at this point as an ally he can count on, and he's starting to get chipped away at.
I don't even really think it's a lie that he on some level would like to see Tav safe, and takes their wellbeing into account. He's been with them long enough to worry over their safety to some extent, and to at least partially lump it in with his own (in my opinion). Is that love? I don't think so. "We can finally be safe," is a reoccurring theme in the other scene I'm going to break down in just a second. And it's interesting for a lot of reasons.
And furthermore: you can care about someone and still be manipulative toward them. That's a core thing going on here, I think, with Astarion.
3. Yeah He's Manipulative (Trauma Edition).
"Is Astarion Manipulating Me In Act 3? " YES. A little bit. And here's why it's INTERESTING.
So, the confession scene in act two has already happened. Astarion has confessed some of his big mushy feelings to you. He likes you. You've slammed the "can I kiss you?" dialogue 100 times already because you're really super normal about the vampire twink. He doesn't know what to make of his caring about Tav yet. See: his "what are we??" dialogue.
MOVING ON. Astarion is also, a manipulative little shit, and he will NOT change his ways just because he likes you a lot and giggles when you give him a little kissy kiss.
Astarion is deeply, deeply traumatized, and his trauma has in his own words makes him act out the same cycles of behavior that he did prior to escaping Cazador. In its most obvious format, one of those behaviors was seducing Tav because that was the kind of behavior he knew, and it was the only thing he could think of to secure his own safety. By act 2, he's somewhat aware of the cycle, but--
Traumatic behaviors, like anything relating to surviving abuse & getting out of it, come and go in waves. You'll likely not find a survivor of abuse who doesn't revert back to coping mechanisms at times, especially in moments or episodes of heightened stress, or being put back into the old environment again. ->
Astarion going back to Baldur's Gate--and specifically with killing cazador in mind--is him going back to that same place where traumatic events occurred... almost constantly. Thus, he goes back to his old behaviors. Not to the exact same level, but it is there.
Safety. THIS is a word that comes back a lot with Astarion, it is one of his most reoccurring (if not the most) themes. He wants to feel safe. He associates power with safety, because the safest person in the world--as in, literally safe, not "safe for other people"--in his mind, is Cazador, who is powerful enough to repel any threats to himself & what he owns, has, possesses, and keeps.
Astarion is still, at his core, no matter what, self-serving. He will do what's best for himself first and foremost in almost every circumstance you put him in. Or at least, he will want to--if Tav or someone else stands in his way, and he sticks it out, it'll be begrudgingly. That's a fundamental aspect of his character & to try and do away with it makes no sense.
And in case it got lost, I'll reiterate that I do think Astarion's actual feelings for Tav at this stage are entirely genuine, & deeply felt. It shows, and it's obvious. He's just got several layers of behavior going on in the process.
"But I thought astarion liked me??? why would he consciously choose to manipulate me??" The thing is, once again, you can like someone and still try to manipulate them, pull on their heartstrings, or quite frankly guilt trip them into helping you kill like, a lot of fucking people so you can become godlord supreme emperor of mortals and vampire kind.
Let's get into the second scene I want to break down. Keeping all of what we've established above about how Astarion goes about establishing connection & togetherness & the idea of shared safety to sway Tav over to his side.
So let's set up one thing for sure. It's pretty obvious, everyone gets this scene, but let's set it up anyways.
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"What's a handful of the wretch's servants? IF they're anything like me when I was enslaved, they'll all be begging for death anyways." <- apathy toward others, generally motivated by self-interest, lack of empathy for others' plights, a callousness that is fairly unrepetant. He's fairly sure this is what he wants, and--
"After two hundred years of pure shit, I think I deserve something better." Again, Astarion tells us exactly what he's thinking. And what he believes. And he's not wrong! He does deserve something better than what he had before. Or, at least, he doesn't deserve the level of cruelty he endured at Cazador's hands. However.
And then he follows it up with, "I know you do [care]. It matters to me too. I want to be able to protect you too." <- finally, we come back around to the reoccurring theme he'll use to sway Tav over to his side. He sees the soft point of Tav in the conversation--they care about him--and he needles that in; they care about him, he cares about them, they should help him complete the ritual for it, it's what's best for everyone. Except for the 7000 spawn, but. You know.
NEXT IMPORTANT SCENE. let's take a look at the scene that follows after you confront his fellow vampire spawn in the tavern.
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I'm keeping the full screencap so I can keep his shifty little look in here. It's not the best format, I wish I'd kept videos, the body language & voice acting adds a lot to this moment, but. Neil you're so good at balancing Astarion's careful shiftiness, his gleeful/vindictive revelry at being so close to his end goal & confronting his siblings without flinching, his coy little pleading, and his near desperate watchfulness. He needs Tav. He cares about Tav, yes, but he needs Tav to help him.
Astarion is, again, fairly callous about the deaths of his brethren. You have to remind him time & again to maybe empathize with their suffering & similarity to him. But each time he reverts back to, "their lives" serving a greater purpose.
Astarion then follows that up with "But we're a team. If I become all powerful, then we become all-powerful." <- I think he genuinely does think of himself & Tav as a team, and as a good one at that. More than anything, Tav is the first person Astarion, in his own words, feels he truly cares for. They've killed a few gods chosens together, Tav has given him respect, patience, care. He feels fairly assured of their presence & kindness at this point. And assurance tends to breed............. let's call it, taking for granted?
I believe he's trying to again emotionally bid for their help & loyalty as much as gauge if they're still with him, as he does by going -> "We are a team after all. You're still with me?" Once again, the easiest way to secure aid is through emotional connections; someone's attraction to you, or better yet, their care for your well-being, are easy strings to pull on to try and entice someone to do what you want them to do. It's not necessarily maliciously intended, but it is a kind of manipulation.
"But Astarion just genuinely wants to know you're on his side!" Yes. And he also really wants you to help him with the ritual. ANY arguments against the idea that he's benignly trying to manipulate Tav's feelings, I'm just gonna put up this screencap right here, one of the last times he bids for Tav's affection & loyalty in this, in this particular conversation:
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Look at his stupid pouty face and his "You want what's best for me, surely?" and oh god the voice acting. We're smacked right in the face with Act 1 Astarion's slinky, whiny little "truuuuust me it'll just be a taste I promise &lt;3333" voice. That PURE "I'm trying so hard to connive my way into your good will because I REALLY want this." voice.
His strength is your strength. And he will pleading face emoji his way through getting you over to his side if he needs to. It's honestly so funny, how the writing plays out, because SEVERAL times you can choose to fully fall for it, "yes of course I want whats best for you / want you to be safe / feel good" and every time, he's like "I know I know <333 and I want YOU to feel safe too <3333" and I don't even think that's a lie! I don't think it's a LIE, I just think it's the same pattern of manipulative behavior he's exhibited time and again even when he cares for you.
Astarion is still Astarion. He is very willing to kill, lie, and cheat his way through just about anything to protect himself, & all of that makes PERFECT sense for him. And if you're not on board with his plans, of course he will use every tool at his disposal to get you on board. It is, after all, what's best for both you and him. His power is your power.
4. "I'm doing this for you too." He said, lying. Or genuinely believing that but lying to himself too and executing it in the weirdest way imaginable.
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So, this is probably my favorite interaction in the entire Astarion romance. Love the grave scene. Love the horny evil vampire turning. But this moment in particular is fucking brilliant, because it illustrates the dilemma here perfectly.
Astarion outright tells us exactly why he is the way he is, and why he cares for Tav while being able to be so cruel and callous about others. "No one ever looked out for me [...] you're the only one." Tav is exceptional--as in, THE EXCEPTION to the rule--because they cared for him in a way no one else ever has. He has ZERO reason to even bother lifting a finger for anyone else besides himself, because in his mind, none of them ever bothered to help him, why should he bother with them. But TAV. Tav he can make promises too.
On some level, I do kind of believe him when he says things like "I'm doing this for you too." -- As in, I believe that he believes that he's taken Tav into account here as well. I do think he genuinely thinks they'll be an even more magnificent duo of glorious bastards together once he's God Vampire Emperor Of Eternity. And on some level, he's probably right. They do take over the world together in some endings, so. Good for them.
However, do I think he's primarily motivated by anything but himself? No. Tav also benefitting from his mega vampire powers is just a bonus in a laundry list of reasons why Astarion wants to ascend at this point in the game. Why Astarion is willing to pull out every guilt-trippy, pleading face to get Tav to help him, if they show even a hint of reluctance. More than anything: Astarion is a survivor, and a survivor of severe abuse that pretty quickly explain why he is the way he is. Does that excuse what he does in the aftermath of that abuse, when it comes to harming other people? Not really. But it explains it pretty clearly.
Because Astarion is back where he came from, he's immediately thrust back into the cycles of behavior that both traumatized him & were what he had to do. The pattern of behavior, coping mechanisms, rooted in traumatic cycles, that he has done time and time and time again that has successfully gotten him, not what he wants, but what he needs to survive. Does his manipulation of Tav here mean he doesn't care? Not at all. It's just that he needs this work. He needs his allies to help him make it work, and he's willing to pull out every stop to see Cazador dead and himself with enough power to never feel so helpless or vulnerable again.
Astarion can love you & still be himself. He will never stop being a bit bitchy, a bit conniving, extremely focused on self-preservation at all costs. He might not seek out active maliciousness, but even in act 3 after the ritual, he still approves of generally being a sneaky bastard, taking short cuts, taking easy ways out. And none of this is necessarily... a problem? It isn't ""moral"", sure, but it's not really a problem. In some endings, he can pursue ""better"" paths, but his general deceivery and typical behavior aren't going away. Feature, not a bug. How each Tav feels about his ... fairly obvious deep romance manipulations is up to each player though, and that is what's interesting for each playthrough.
There are five more essays to write in here. There's the Astarion after the ritual, who agrees that fine, killing 7000 people is wrong. And there's the Astarion after the ascension, who is now fully entrenched in the idea that Power Is Everything, and all that means for him afterward, and his visceral, intense, obsessive controlling dynamic with Tav where they descend into Chaotic Vampire Evil Marriage. And there's Astarion and Tav together finally, honestly, openly, with the heart-wrenching intimacy of the grave scene. And this is almost 4000 words so I'm shutting the fuck up here.
So. I will end this by saying I'm peeling him like an onion rn I'm obsessed with him. He's gods horrible princess and he's never going to die.
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is-on-its-way · 6 months
Text
Bathtub
Post-Fight the Future
A moment in Scully's recovery from Antarctica after being released from a Buenos Aires hospital.
Inspired by this insane "blooper" video. and a tweet asking for a fic about said moment.
There was a soft knock at the door and Mulder said “Scully?” through it. 
“Come in Mulder” she called. 
There was a pause and she yelled out again with a smile “Im not indecent”. She was covered in bubbles after all, he wouldn’t be able to see anything below her shoulders.
He opened the door and slid his face through it apprehensively but when he saw she was covered completely, he relaxed and moved halfway across the frame.
She smiled up at him as she swallowed a retort of “Nothing you haven't seen before”, not wanting to make him needlessly uncomfortable. He had seemed like he’d been held together by a fine thread, under constant threat of loosing what little composure he’d been keeping together for her since she had woken up in the hospital in Buenos Aires. 
They had been in an airy third floor walk up on a street full of colourful buildings, with bare trees lining the cobble stones, since she’d been released from the hospital a couple of days ago. She’d been throughly enjoying wandering around Palermo with him, looking at the old architecture that rivalled DC, listening to live music in the evenings, sitting at a corner cafe sipping wonderful warm coffee, not thinking about work for what felt like the first time in a long while. 
He hadn’t mentioned anything about what had happened yet, letting her take the lead, but she could tell he was itching to. He had so much on his mind and she would have to get the full accounting eventually. But here in this cozy old stone building, in a bathtub from at least 1920, with a weathered door that wouldn’t lock, she felt like she was in a different lifetime. A sanctuary away from the x files and what they would have to return to in Washington in two days. 
“Hey” he said eyes lingering on her face, no chance of impropriety there. She loved him for it.
“Skinner called, he’s glad you’re out of the hospital and he said to call as soon as you can, so…”
“No dilly dallying?”
He smiled at the term and said “Right, I don’t think we should keep him waiting he’s uh… well, annoyed would be a generous interpretation”
She laughed, “Okay, Ill be out in a minute.”
He turned out of the door then back to her “I was going to order some late breakfast, what do you want?”
“You can order in Spanish over the phone?” She raised an eyebrow.
“Well…” He shrugged throwing his hands out. The bottle cap he’d been playing with slipped from his fingers, hit the water, and sank with a tink to the bottom of the tub. 
“Sorry” he said quickly, passing all the way through the threshold and stooping down over the tub. Before she could think to move, he slipped his arm between her legs and was fishing on the bottom of the tub for it. She swallowed the gasp in her throat as his arm brushed her inner thigh and her back straightened imperceptibly in response.
She followed his arm down with her eyes and shifted her legs open so he could reach it, where she could feel it had fallen, under her leg. She looked up at his face, lips parted, in surprise. He seemed truly concentrated on finding the thing. Was he just so comfortable with her now, almost kissing her in hallways, and carrying her half naked across the arctic that this was just what their partnership had evolved into? She wondered what he would do next, imagined what he would do next, hoped at what he would do next. 
“Got it” he said and looked up at her, his hand dripping over the water. Their eyes met and she swallowed as she saw him register the desire she had been too slow to hide. She could see the moment flicker behind his eyes as he realised what he had done. His cheeks burned red as he leaned back, closing his hand around it in a tight fist. “Im sorry Scully, I don’t know what I was thinking doing that.”
She shook her head, setting her face in a casual expression, and ran her tongue over her dry lips. “Thats okay Mulder.” 
They both waited for the other to speak and when neither did, she decided to end his agony. Her mouth spread in a wide smile and then she was giggling. He looked at her and chanced a smile. 
“Mulder” she said sweetly. The water sloshed as she put her hands up in front of her, resting her fingers on the hollow between her clavicles, covering her breasts. She leaned onto the side of the tub, closing the distance he'd put between them. She looked up into his face. “It’s nothing you haven’t seen before anyway.” She said it as a comfort, not in jest.
Mulder’s face was flushed but he smiled at her with such gentle affection, she could’ve stood up and thrown her arms around him in a sudsy wet hug. 
Instead she said “Can we go out to that cafe again? I think I need to get the blood flowing with a walk.” Not that that wasn’t already happening right now, but she wanted to be outside, she’d felt slightly suffocated being inside since Antarctica.
“Of course, anything you want, Scully” He said in that stoic tone she loved, as he stood and made his way out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him. 
End. 
@today-in-fic
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Michael de Adder, Halifax Chronicle Herald
* * * *
Trump promises to eliminate future elections
July 29, 2024
Robert B. Hubbell
Last Friday, Trump told Christian rally-goers that “You won’t have to vote any more” if they elect Trump in 2024.
Let that sink in. A presidential candidate promised to eliminate future elections.
The media yawned.
Actually, the media ignored the story (except for The Guardian) until commentators on social media and the Harris Campaign shamed journalists into acknowledging Trump's antidemocratic threat—which they did in a dismissive, begrudging manner.
It is tiresome to highlight the media’s failings, but this incident is so egregious that it is important on many levels. Most importantly, it underscores that Democrats cannot relent in their effort to warn the American people that Trump hopes to end fundamental democratic norms—like the peaceful, regular transfer of power as prescribed by the Constitution.
Among the issues that should drive voters to the polls in 2024, Trump’s repeated promises to end democracy should be the most alarming. But concepts like “democracy” and “tyranny” strike many voters as “abstract.” Taking away the right to vote is not abstract; doing so would render all other rights illusory.
Let’s turn this incident against Trump by convincing voters that Trump really, truly wants to eliminate the right to vote after 2024. And we must not let him (or his surrogates) weasel out of the plain meaning of his words.
What did Trump say?
 At a rally in Florida on Friday, Trump said,
Christians, get out and vote! Just this time – you won’t have to do it any more. You know what? It’ll be fixed! It’ll be fine. You won’t have to vote any more, my beautiful Christians. I love you. Get out – you gotta get out and vote. In four years, you don’t have to vote again. We’ll have it fixed so good, you’re not gonna have to vote.
See The Guardian, Trump tells supporters they won’t have to vote in the future: ‘It’ll be fixed!’.
Like most of Trump's statements, it is simultaneously inscrutable and blazingly obvious. He is promising the end of democracy if he is elected. “In four years, you won’t have to vote again.”
The same words uttered by most other politicians might be susceptible to innocent interpretations. But those words uttered by this president can mean only one thing: He wants to eliminate elections in America. He tried to override the will of the people in 2020 by canceling their votes through coup and insurrection. He says he will do so again if he is re-elected. We should believe him.
To repeat: A presidential candidate has promised that 2024 will be the last time that Americans will vote because “everything will be fixed.” That is the equivalent of a five-alarm fire for democracy.
How did the GOP, the media, and the Harris campaign respond? You can probably predict their responses, but let’s look for ourselves.
The GOP response
In typical GOP fashion, the GOP response was (a) he didn’t mean what he said, (b) he said the opposite of what you think you heard, and (c) Trump says weird things all the time, so chill out!
The typical Republican response was delivered by New Hampshire Governor Chris Sununu, who laughed off the statement by saying, (a) it was “hyperbolic,” (b) Trump was trying to make the point that “We want everyone to vote in all elections,” and (c) it was a classic “Trumpism.”
Saying that the statement was hyperbolic and “a Trumpism” are. not serious responses because they do not address the substance of what Trump actually said. Trump incited an insurrection by telling people to “Fight like hell” moments before the attack on the Capitol.” We are long past claiming that Trump's words should not be taken seriously and literally.
Claiming that Trump's statement means the exact opposite of what Trump said is depraved. Sununu’s interpretation of “We want everyone to vote in all elections” vs. Trump's “You’re not gonna have to vote again” is depraved. The depravity of Sununu’s perverse interpretation is not diminished because Sununu delivered the lie with a hearty laugh.
Other Trump apologists (on social media) argued that Trump was saying only that Republicans would not need Christian evangelical votes after 2024 because Trump would do such a great job of fixing all problems in America, “you’re not gonna have to vote.” That explanation makes no sense; even if Trump “fixed” all the problems in America in the next four years, the Constitution still requires an election in 2028.
There is simply no reasonable interpretation of Trump's words other than his declaration that in four years, he intends to eliminate elections (if he can).
The media’s response
As noted above, The Guardian gave serious coverage to Trump's statement. US media outlets, not so much. See, for example, Lucian K. Truscott IV’s description of the NYTimes’ pathetic response. As Truscott notes in his Substack, the Times relegated the statements to “a few lines in a wrap-up piece about what’s happening in the presidential campaign . . . and they buried it on the Times website.” The Times then breezily moved on to pedestrian coverage of the campaigns as if they were reporting the details of an itinerary rather than one of the most shocking statements ever by a major-party candidate for the presidency.
Perhaps even worse was the pathetic interview of Chris Sununu by Martha Raddatz on ABC. Raddatz asked Sununu, “What the heck did he [Trump] mean there [in the statement]?” As noted above, Sununu responded,
(a)  The statement was hyperbolic; (b)  Trump meant that everyone should vote in every election; and (c)  That statement is a Trumpism.
Sununu’s pathetic response was enough to satisfy Radattz, whose follow-up question was, “Ok. Let's turn to President Biden and Kamala Harris.”
I won’t pick on Raddatz (much). Almost every journalist on mainstream media is as pathetic as Raddatz. The inability to ask follow-up questions to ludicrous rationalizations of attacks on democracy is staggering. Most are entertainers, not journalists. Their presence on “news” shows is insulting to their viewers.
Raddatz’s failure to challenge Sununu’s answer and her immediate transition to a question about President Biden and Kamala Harris demonstrates the media’s dangerous addiction to mindless “balance” and false equivalency. Nothing Kamala Harris did over the weekend deserves to be in the same news block as a story about a presidential candidate promising to end the need for elections. Nothing.
Having watched the media fail miserably for seven years with Trump, nothing should surprise us. But the guy tried to overturn one election already and is saying he will do it again. What will it take for the media to realize that Trump is a unique threat to democracy who deserves coverage that applies only to aspiring dictators?
Even if the Times and Raddatz believed that Trump's remarks had a benign explanation, they failed to acknowledge the more plausible, malign interpretation. Instead, they were willing to assume that Trump's remarks were harmless “Trumpisms.” They are not. We saw what happened after Trump told his followers on January 6, 2021: “We fight like hell. And if you don't fight like hell, you're not going to have a country anymore.”
So, continue writing those letters to the editor and comments to stories highlighting the media’s failings. And become a messenger for Harris by amplifying her campaign’s messaging. Read on!
The Harris Campaign’s response
Kamala Harris’s campaign organization has been reacting to Trump's missteps and threats like a rapid response force to each. Early Saturday morning, the Harris campaign posted a clip of Trump's comments and attached the following statement:
Statement on Trump's Promise to End Democracy When Vice President Harris says this election is about freedom she means it. Our democracy is under assault by criminal Donald Trump: After the last election Trump lost, he sent a mob to overturn the results. This campaign, he has promised violence if he loses, the end of our elections if he wins, and the termination of the Constitution to empower him to be a dictator to enact his dangerous Project 2025 agenda on America. Donald Trump wants to take America backward, to a politics of hate, chaos, and fear —this November America will unite around Vice President Kamala Harris to stop him.
The Harris campaign’s statement is spot-on for several reasons. First, the campaign issued the statement just after noon on Saturday morning, showing a willingness and ability to rebut Trump quickly. By responding within the same news cycle, the Harris campaign shaped the social media response, which ultimately prodded the major media to acknowledge Trump's threat.
Second, the Harris campaign identified Trump's threats in plain language, including
“Trump's Promise to End Democracy.” “Last election Trump sent a mob to overturn the results.” “He has promised violence if he loses” “He has promised the end of elections if he wins” “He has promised to terminate the Constitution” “To become a dictator” “To enact dangerous project 2025”
Dangerous threats demand plain language. The Harris campaign rose to the challenge.
The campaign’s statement was strong in another respect: In identifying Trump as a threat to democracy, it identified Kamala Harris as the point of unity to stop Trump. A very smart move! Kamala Harris is giving Democrats the antidote to Trump's cult of personality. The campaign is fashioning Kamala Harris as a champion of democracy. And it is working!
Concluding Thoughts
Trump's threats present a dilemma. Should we take them seriously? Or does our attention give them credence and heft they do not carry on their own? As with most things in life, there is tension in truth. We must take Trump's threats literally and seriously. But we must not ascribe superpowers to Trump or self-executing inevitability to his threats. By taking his threats seriously, we can prevent them from coming to fruition. So, do not despair or cower in fear. Raise the alarm as we work to defeat Trump and stop his dark plans.
Meanwhile, Democrats continue to rally around Kamala Harris. She held her first fundraiser in Pittsfield, MA at the Colonial Theatre. The event was sold out, with an overflow crowd in front of the theater. Kamala Harris spoke after an all-star warm-up that included former Governor Deval Patrick, Senators Warren and Markey, Rep. Neal, and Heather Cox Richardson.
According to those in attendance, the evening was “electric.” The crowd was so enthusiastic, Kamala Harris had difficulty quieting the cheers so she could say “Thank you.” She gave a great speech and pumped up the crowd even further.
In eight short days, Kamala Harris has unified and inspired Democrats in a way that has defied expectations of pundits and career politicians. She is doing so at the precise moment that Trump's veneer of invincibility is cracking. We need to sustain the wave of enthusiasm for Kamala Harris and spread it to others—so that we can push Trump’s downward trajectory past the tipping point of no return. We can do that!
[Robert B. Hubbell Newsletter]
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cipheramnesia · 6 months
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There's a brand of criticism that looks at Night of the Living Dead (1968), and suggests people consider the interpretation that Harry Cooper, the racist and misogynistic antagonist of the movie, was right the whole time. After all, if everyone listened to Harry, they would have stayed safely locker in the cellar and survived. He was a bad person, but if you think rationally about, his plan would have worked.
This has nagged at me awhile, because it felt off, and now I can tell you unambiguously that interpretation is not just thematically inconsistent, but factually wrong. Here's why.
First, consider what each character symbolizes. Ben, the protagonist, is revolutionary thinking. He represents taking action, problem solving, creativity and opposition of authority. Barbara is the iconic public in the face of sudden, overwhelming horror. Think the shock and horror in response to the Vietnam War, fresh at the time, the first real widespread use of television exposing USAmericans to the graphic atrocities committed by their own soldiers. Harry, the antagonist represents isolationism, conservativism, and the idea that everything is fine as it is. There is no need for change for Harry, let the government fix it.
Secondarily! Harry's wife Helen and daughter Karen. Helen is also a symbol of traditional values, but in what you might call a centrist way. She too thinks, at first, that Harry is right and it's all going to work out, but as the movie progresses she comes to realize too late that she is not being kept safe but rather held as property and Harry intends to let everyone die if it means what he has stays his. Karen, meanwhile, represents the idea that the external problem (zombies) cannot be ignored and just locked away. The problem is already inside the house, it will affect everyone regardless.
Lastly! Judy and Tom, what else could they be but the innocent hope of youth (Tom) and love (Judy). They die first because their naivete and blind optimism put them in each other's way. They are the proud soldiers of the US military going of to an idealistic war only to die, burning and alone, for nothing.
So, factually speaking, first and foremost, the "Harry was right" position always glosses over that Karen is infected. They believe that as a large group it would be easy to avoid further infection by Karen. This is incorrect, as the movie shows several times. First, Helen stays at Karen's side so extensively that she is ultimately killed when Karen turns. We can from this also recognize the same thing would happen if everyone stayed in the basement. Helen will be infected. Second! Harry repeatedly shows his belief that his wife and daughter are property, and he will act irrationally in his own self interest. It is safe to say that Harry will insist on protecting his wife and daughter even after they become zombies. This means the group will be isolated in a small space with two fresh zombies. What happens from this point is immaterial the group is now at best 3vs4 on the side of zombies, and they have NOT successfully made it through the night unscathed.
But wait! This is already giving the idea that Harry is right too much credit because Harry does not want to leave the basement at all. This means that if Harry was listened to, there would only be Tom and Judy in the basement versus Harry and his zombie family. They would all die if they did not take action. Furthermore! Only by leaving the basement does anyone other than Ben and Barbara find out how to stop zombies, and Ben is the only one who has genuinely figured out one solid antizombie tactic on his own.
Not only this, but Harry has no way to predict that people like Barbara and Ben will show up. His basement plan hinges on a stable situation, which they are not in. He has not planned against a horde of zombies until Ben arrives, and after Ben arrives, he works almost exclusively against the group goals. Harry is not just isolationist but selfish. His plan does not work because at no point does he show any ability to cope with the direct problem, and every version of "sitting it out in the basement" just gets more people killed. Harry is wrong and his plan is bad and critics who suggest his plan was good ought to feel bad.
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lunarmoves · 11 months
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spooks, screams, and robots, oh my!
pairing: DCA sun/moon/eclipse x reader
mentions: haunted house shenanigans, gender neutral reader (no pronouns used!), spooks n scares, tomfoolery and the like, relationship up to interpretation, eclipse is based off of ruin dlc, fluffy goodness, not beta'd lol, sfw, post fire at the plex
a/n: happy (late) halloween @n30nixx!! i'm so sorry this is kinda late LOL. i uh, started writing it and then it kind of got away from me so it ended up way longer than intended sfddfks. it might be a bit rushed at the end bc i wanted to get it out gahh. hope u enjoy & sorry for the wait!!
word count: 6k
ao3 link
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You were laying in bed, idly scrolling through your phone in a sleep-induced haze, when you were startled up by a loud, ebullient voice.
“Friend!” Sun practically shouted as he burst through your door—a typical occurrence for him, yet it made you flinch all the same. You blinked widely at him as he bounded up to the side of your bed and waved something in the air with one of his hands. The bells tied to his wrist jingled with the motion. “Look what we found!”
The thing in question was promptly dropped on top of your head, and you made a small, confused noise as you picked it off to squint at it. It was a flyer, you noted, your eyes sweeping quickly over the bold, orange words stark underneath a dilapidated cartoon house of eerie green and fiery purple.
“Oh!” You perked up as Sun eagerly swayed by your bedside, waiting for your response. “The haunted house is happening again?” Sure enough, the flyer was for the annual haunted house that opened in your city every October. Well, almost every. It had been closed the last few years due to a lack of funding. You hadn’t gone since you were a teenager, if you were remembering correctly.
“Sure is!” Sun replied with a grin. He clasped his hands together and leaned down closer to you, blank white eyes locked onto your own. “We should go!”
You hummed and flicked your gaze to the bottom of the flyer, where the address and time for the haunted house were both displayed. It wasn’t too far from your apartment—walking distance, for certain. “Alright. Could be fun!”
Sun practically leapt for joy, his rays spinning delightfully around his face plate. “Wonderful!!” And without any time for you to even protest, he picked you up from under the arms to disentangle you from your bed. You made a surprised noise, blankets slipping from your body in a silken waterfall, then stared at him when he eventually set you back down on the floor. The flyer had been crushed in your grip with the unexpected motion. Sun patted your rumpled figure on the shoulders with both of his hands as you blinked at him. “Let’s go!!”
“Wait, you mean now?!” you asked in bewilderment. You hadn’t planned on leaving your bedroom tonight, much less your apartment building.
“Of course!! You’re not doing anything now, are you?” Sun asked, tilting his head to the side. “In fact— we don’t think you’ve been outside at all today! Fresh air will do you some good, Friend!!”
Trust Sun to always make sure you were taking care of yourself properly. You sighed, already knowing you would be fighting a losing battle if you dared to protest. He was right, you didn’t have anything major to do for the rest of the evening. And besides—you glanced at the time on your phone, which was still clenched in your hand even after Sun had picked you up—it was still pretty early. If Sun was so eager to go to the haunted house tonight, then who were you to deny him?
“Okay, fine, we can go now,” you acquiesced. You rolled your eyes lightheartedly when he cheered. “Where did you even find the flyer, anyways?”
“It was taped to a lamppost when we went for a walk!” Sun told you, his hands fidgeting together slightly. You raised an eyebrow at him. It wasn’t like you forbade them from going outside or anything. In fact, you encouraged it! But well, with robots still being acclimated into society, you just worried about them being alone outside for too long. Seemed like they’d been fine, though. No big deal.
Still, you had to ask. “How was it? Good walk? No mean pedestrians?”
Sun nodded, giving you a bright grin. “No issues! Didn’t get too many stares once we pulled up our hood!” He pinched at the large, burgundy hoodie he had on, accompanied by long, dark sweats. You were lucky he just barely managed to fit into the largest size you could find online, though the clothes were still a bit baggy for his tall, lithe figure. Still, they were better than nothing.
You bobbed your head at his words. “Good, good. Well”—you tossed the crumpled flyer and your phone onto your bed as you prepared to grab some clean clothes that weren’t your pajamas—“let me just get freshened up real quick and we can head ou—"
“Wait!” Sun nearly yelled out before you could finish speaking. You paused, mouth still open, and gave him an inquisitive look. He took it as a sign to continue. “We need costumes!”
“Costumes?” you echoed. “That’s not really necessary for a haunted house, you know.”
Sun flapped a hand at you in dismissal. “Come on, Friend! Where’s your Halloween spirit?”
It wasn’t quite Halloween yet, but he got you there, you supposed. “I wouldn’t even know what to be,” you said with a sigh. It was a bit too late to throw something together. You hadn’t really planned on doing anything for the holiday, after all. Maybe you should’ve accounted for your robotic guest—the ex-Daycare Attendant was bound to be inclined to celebrate.
Sun’s grin curled up until he was looking at you in a way that made you feel suspicious. “Not to worry! We came prepared!”
You squinted at him as he bounded over to your closet and opened it to pick out a box that’d been meticulously hidden away from your view. What the— How had you not noticed it before?? Color you utterly befuddled. As you wondered how Sun was able to hide the box from you within your own home, he re-approached you and deposited it on the floor in front of you with a flourish of his hands. “Tada! Our costumes!!”
You stared down at the box. “Where did you get this?”
“Don’t worry about it!” he said cheerfully and bent down to start to crack it open at the top.
You gave him a suspicious look. “Did you use my credit card again?”
“Oh look! It’s your costume!” Sun rapidly spoke over you as he grabbed something from within the box—that crinkled with the sound of thin plastic—and thrusted it towards you. A small pfft left your lips at his words (really, you should’ve been used to his spending habits by now), and you took the items from him so you could see what he’d bought for you. A beat of silence passed.
“Is this a fucking Shrek costume?” you wheezed out as you waved around the clear, plastic wrapping containing a green headband with ogre ears attached to it, a brown vest, and a long, tan-colored shirt.
Sun grinned mischievously at you. “Yep!” You burst out into raucous laughter, loud enough to fill the room with your amusement.
“Unbelievable!” You giggled and wiped a tear from your eye. You’d watched the movie with him not too long ago. Maybe it had given him inspiration. “And who are you gonna be?”
“Well!” Sun started as he rummaged around in the box. “I’d wanted us to be Fiona, but Moon was against the idea, so we had to pick different things that’d be easier for us to switch to. So”—he pulled out a black hat with a feather attached to it and put it on his head—“I will be Puss in Boots!”
You cracked up again. The hat couldn’t even properly sit on top of his head without him needing to adjust his sun rays. “Amazing!”
Sun beamed down at you, hands on his hips as he struck a pose. “Why, thank you! Moon’s gonna be Big Bad Wolf and Eclipse is gonna be Donkey! Don’t look too deeply into it!”
This was fucking hilarious. “We’ve got our own little squad going on,” you said with a snicker as you started opening the wrapping containing your costume. You could already picture how dumb you were going to look wearing it. You loved it.
“That we do!” Sun replied happily. He bent down to swiftly pick back up the box and started to walk towards your bedroom door. His head did a 180 so he could look at you in the process, white eyes upturned in delight. “Get dressed and meet us by the door! There are spooks to be had!”
You gave him a silly smile and a little salute. “You got it, Boss!”
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You scratched idly at the back of your ear, where the headband you were wearing dug slightly into your skin as you wandered down the street with Sun by your side. By now the sky was turning into a soft gradient of navy blue and burnt mandarin, the small twinkle of stars starting to poke out just above your head. It was light enough with all the active lampposts that Sun was still able to walk with you, though you were certain this would change the later it got.
It didn’t take too long to walk over to the haunted house. On the way, you and Sun were able to look at all the Halloween decorations that lined the houses you passed by. There were quite a few with creepy skeletons lining the yards or thin spiderwebs snaking across gates and shrubbery. You took a few pictures of some of the more impressive ones, Sun striking a little pose in them for fun.
There weren’t too many people walking about, but the closer you got to the haunted house location, the busier the streets became. Music played somewhere in the distance, low-pitched and eerie. The bumble of conversation got louder as people roamed about with friends or on their own. Some people were also dressed in costume, you noticed in relief. It made you feel better about wearing your own.
Sun was practically vibrating right out of his metallic body as you both approached the haunted house. It was tucked in a street that had been repurposed to look like a desolate town. The stores were boarded up and the road was packed with food stalls. There was even a little stage that had some guy in a Ghostface costume standing on top of it, calling out to people randomly to try to scare them.
There was a line outside the building itself that you had to join to purchase tickets, so you stood there patiently with Sun as his head swiveled around and around to take everything in.
“This is amazing!” he exclaimed as he watched a group of rambunctious teenagers walk by dressed up as some characters from a T.V. show. His rays spun about his head—well, as much as they could with his hat on—before he looked back down at you. “Very spirited! We never saw anything like this before!”
You grinned up at him. “Oh yeah, people like their horror and dressing up, what can I say.”
Sun’s smile widened, then his head cocked slightly to the side as he paused for a short moment. His gaze turned to look somewhere behind you.
“Moon says he likes that person’s costume,” he said as he pointed at something. You glanced over your shoulder to see someone wearing a rather impressive killer clown costume—with fake blood and a polka-dotted suit and everything. “He says it reminds him of you.”
You barked out a surprised laugh. Of course Moon would take any opportunity to poke fun at you—even when he wasn’t in control. “Says the literal jester!”
Sun made a show out of looking around, his optics squinted with his hand placed horizontally over them like he was staring out into the distance. “Jester? Where?! I only see Puss in Boots here!” He gestured down to his body with both of his hands. He wasn’t wearing the black cape that came with the costume so that it would be easier for Moon and Eclipse when they switched over, but he did have a belt strapped around his waist along with a pair of tall boots that went up to his knees. He’d tucked his sweatpants into them. He’d drawn on some cat whiskers on his face plate as well, and it looked a bit silly, but you were pretty sure he was aware. You shook your head in good nature at his antics.
The two of you passed the time on line pointing out people’s costumes or enjoying the little shows being done on the stage. Sun seemed to adore watching all the little kids run about, and you watched as his gaze followed them around with an almost longing look to it. A few were wearing Glamrock masks atop their heads. Even fewer seemed to notice Sun, but they did wave to him—an action that made his entire body light up as he waved back with his whole arm. You patted him on the back, but didn’t dare bring it up. He still got a bit sad whenever you did, part of him still attached to that little daycare he’d spent so long in.
“Hey man! Nice costume!” someone hollered out at one point somewhere off to your side, and you turned to see them watching Sun as they walked by with a group of people. “Super wicked!”
“Coolest one I’ve seen all night!” another person shouted from the group with a thumbs up.
You raised an eyebrow at their words, but Sun didn’t seem to mind—or notice, for that matter. “Thank you, Friends!!” he eagerly shouted back as he waved his arm about. He grinned and watched as they disappeared around a corner, still stealing looks at him all the while.
“I think they thought you were the costume,” you eventually said amusedly. Sun glanced at you as you continued. “I would hardly call a Puss in Boots costume ‘wicked’.”
Sun made an offended gasp and crossed his arms. “I worked hard on this costume, you know! I think I look rather cool and fetching, don’t you think?” He struck a pose, black boots clicking together as he pretended to gesture out a sword from the belt tied around his waist.
You snorted. “You’re right, you’re right. You do look cool.” Sun made a pleased sound in response.
It didn’t take much longer until you were finally at the front of the line. After purchasing two tickets, the lady behind the little counter gave you two green paper wristbands. You thanked her as you took them and she pointed you towards another line to enter the haunted house itself. That one wasn’t as long as the ticket line, thankfully. You gestured to Sun to follow you as you made your way over to join it. The area over here was not as well lit as the one by the tickets, since it was away from any lampposts. That, paired with the darkened night sky, caused the sound of clicks and whirrs of shifting machinery to follow you until you were positioned at the end of the line.
“Another line to wait in,” you sighed as you peeled a bit of paper off one of the wristbands to expose its sticky end. “They seem busy tonight.”
“I’m sure they’ll get busier the closer it gets to Halloween!” Eclipse remarked as he looked towards the entrance of the haunted house. His height allowed him to peer over basically everyone’s heads. He got a few double takes for it, but you think most people thought he was wearing platforms or something for a costume, for they didn’t say anything. Hey, you’d take it over getting stopped on the street so they could ask how tall he was or where his model came from. It’d happened too many times for you to count.
You hummed. “Yeah. Hold out your wrist for me, please.” Eclipse looked down at you and stuck out one of his arms. You slid his hoodie sleeve up and wrapped the green band around his thin wrist as tightly as you could, just below his ribbon. You could feel his gaze lingering on your fingers as you tucked the end of the band in as much as you could and finished with a little pat to his hand. “There you go!”
“Thank you, my dear!” He beamed as he slid his sleeve back down. You nodded and looked down so you could start to unpeel the other wristband, but before you could, it was being gently plucked from your grip. “Allow me! Wrist, please!”
You rolled your eyes halfheartedly, but complied, sticking your arm out so Eclipse could bend down and gently fasten the band to it. Large yet dexterous fingers fit it snugly around your wrist, tucking the end in neatly, and finishing with a flourish. “There you go!”
“Thanks, bud,” you told him as you stuck your hands into your pockets along with the two pieces of paper from the wristbands. You’ll throw them out later. Eclipse’s smile stretched wider as his rays did a little spin. You took the time to observe his change in costume. Not much was different from Sun’s—he was still wearing the same hoodie and sweats, plus he couldn’t quite swap out the boots—but he did replace the hat with a headband of donkey ears. The belt around his waist also gained a little donkey tail. It was cute.
You took some time just observing the haunted house itself from the outside as you both waited for your turns. It was very big, for one thing, being a few stories high and wide like a department store. The upper floors had the windows boarded up, so you doubted you would have to climb up stairs or anything. The entire building was painted black with eerie green and purple lighting from little strobes positioned on the outside walls. Smoke drifted into the air from a machine sticking out one of the windows on the second floor. Very spooky.
The closer you got to the front of the line, the more you were able to hear screams and shouts from inside the haunted house. There was the occasional bang! followed by a shriek. You were excited, don’t get you wrong. But well… you were starting to feel just a bit apprehensive.
Eclipse seemed to have noticed. “Feeling nervous?” he asked as he glanced down at you. He swayed animatedly side to side as he waited, hands tucked into the conjoined pocket in front of his hoodie.
You waved a hand. “Who, me? Nah, no way, nope. Nothing to be scared of!” And there really wasn’t, you told yourself. There were just people dressed up in costumes in there. Nothing too scary. Not like there were actual ghosts or zombies or anything.
He chuckled at your words, and you knew he could see right through you. “You can hold onto our arm if you want. We’ll protect you!”
Your expression softened. “Aw, thank you. But I’m not sure if Moon has the same sentiment.” You were pretty much guaranteed to be subjected to Moon for the duration of the haunted house if the darkness past its entryway was any indication. And well… it was Moon you were talking about here.
“You can tell him to back off, you know!” Eclipse said amusedly. The line shuffled forward another few inches. “He will!”
You snorted. “Doubt it.” Eclipse only shrugged in response.
Finally, finally, you reached the front of the line. There was a woman in skeleton makeup sitting in a chair by the entrance who wrote a little ‘x’ on each of your wristbands with a marker. Then she listed off a bunch of rules for you both to follow. No running, no touching the actors (though they could lightly touch you, something you were a bit wary of), keep following the path, don’t look the demon in its eyes or it will kill you… You blinked at that last one, but before you could question it, a bang! came from within the house that made you jump slightly. The woman didn’t even react, just reached over and knocked a metal ring against the outside wall of the building before she gestured you both in.
“Have fun!” she called out in a raspy voice. “And remember: He’s always watching!”
Who? “Oh boy,” you whispered to yourself as Eclipse ushered you forward with a large hand against the middle of your back. You were pretty sure she only said that to make you feel uneasy, but shit, you didn’t expect it to work. You wrapped a hand around Eclipse’s elbow of the arm still tucked into his pocket and he escorted you as though you were both attending a ball and not a horror attraction. Your grip tightened as you stepped into the building and continued down a small path before reaching a door.
There was a person with a rucksack over their head that bled from two black eyes standing right in front of it. They didn’t say anything, just opened the door and gestured at you and Eclipse to go forth with a clawed hand. It was completely dark beyond it. You swallowed heavily. The apprehension by now had devolved completely into a wriggling mass of nerves. You were going to die in there.
“Lovely costume!” Eclipse said cheerfully to the person as he tugged you forward. He had to duck his head so he wouldn’t hit his head on the top of the door frame. You couldn’t bring yourself to say a word, only watched the masked person as they stared at you until you were past the door. Then they slammed it shut, making you jump as you suddenly found yourself in complete, utter darkness.
“Oooh, I don’t like this,” you whispered lowly as your eyes widened as much as they could. You couldn’t see a thing. It would have been quiet too if not for the quiet clicking and shifting of metal at your side. You glanced up when a red light settled softly along the top of your arms and shoulders.
Moon grinned sharply down at you, hellacious eyes aglow in delight. “Scared?” he rasped with a snicker, one of his hands trailing his claws unsettling down the side of your face.
You pushed his hand away and flicked your gaze up to the top of his head. “I was,” you retorted hotly, “until I saw those goofy ass ears you’re wearing.” You pointed up at the fluffy wolf ears attached to the top of his nightcap. You guessed he didn’t want to part with it for his costume. It made him look funny, especially when you squinted at his backside to see a matching fluffy tail attached to the belt around his waist.
Moon growled and made a motion as though to bite you, but you yelped and ducked out of the way. “Bad Moon! No biting!” He snickered at you as you wagged a finger at him. You huffed and turned to look down the dark hall. “Come on, we need to get moving. Don’t wanna hold up the line.”
You were lucky Moon’s optics were bright enough to light the way a bit. You slowly made your way down the hall, glancing occasionally over your shoulder to make sure Moon was following. He was, but he was definitely trying to creep you out if the way he was watching you with those pinprick white pupils were any indication. You stuck your tongue out at him.
The nerves were starting to make an appearance again. Where your eyes failed, your ears picked up the slack, straining for any sound. In the distance, you could hear the pitter-pattering of footsteps. You slowly turned around a corner, and nearly jumped out of your skin when a woman appeared out of nowhere, standing in the middle of the hall. There was a light over her head that cast ominous shadows upon her figure. She had on a torn and ragged wedding dress, gashes littering her skin and leaking ruby blood.
She didn’t say anything, just watched you with eyes that had smudged mascara around them. Okay then. You shuffled forward, planning on squeezing yourself around her, when you noticed her gaze had switched from you to something behind you—Moon, most likely. You looked behind you and nearly bit your tongue when you saw Moon had taken to crawling along the walls to avoid the light. Like some kind of hybrid Big Bad Wolf demon.
“Moon!” you whisper-shouted at him as he chuckled and made his way past the woman along the leftmost wall. “That’s not— Don’t do that!” You turned to look back at the woman, who stared at Moon blankly for a few moments more, then moved to continue to watch you. Without a single sound. You swallowed thickly. Just a person, just an actor. “Sorry, my friend’s um— a little quirky. I’m just gonna”—you shuffled yourself along the wall to slip by her—“just gonna… go—”
You couldn’t even finish your sentence before she let out a high-pitched shriek. You yelped and scrambled away, just barely managing to stop yourself from sprinting as you rounded a corner and nearly ran right into Moon again.
He giggled at you and held you by the shoulders to steady you. “Scaredy-cat.”
“Shut up, man,” you huffed as you shoved your hands in your pockets and continued to follow the path through the house. You didn’t see any more people dressed up, thankfully, though you were heavily eyeing the darkest corners for anyone hiding in them. “I’m pretty sure you surprised her more than anything.” He only giggled again and trailed after you.
You eventually emerged into a dimly lit room that was decorated like a child’s bedroom. The wallpaper was peeling and dirty, decorated in what looked like had been little ducks and bunnies. There were decapitated dolls scattered about. Clicking and whirring followed you as you stepped uneasily towards the door at the other end of the room. Eclipse tutted as he looked around.
“What a mess!” he exclaimed as he came up behind you. “This isn’t very safe for a child!”
“I’m pretty sure this isn’t a normal child,” you said flatly as you pointedly looked at the bloody hand prints lining the wall near a small bed. There was a mound of dirty blankets on top of it. As you got closer to the exit of the room, the mound wiggled and out popped a little girl’s head. You jerked back in surprise.
“You’re here! You’re here!!” The little girl smiled as she looked directly at you with these bloody, black eyes. A strange tar-like substance leaked from them. You made a face and stepped back, running into Eclipse right behind you. “Won’t you play with me? Pretty please?”
Before you could say anything, Eclipse stepped around you with a flourish. “Little girl of course we will! What do you want to do? Color? Hide and seek?” You gave him a look and opened your mouth to say something, but he pressed on. “Where are you parents? And oh! Your eyes! L-Let's get you to a f-first aid station, hm?”
“Eclipse, dude…” You reached out to grab his arm. The little girl’s gaze flicked to you for a moment—you wondered if her actress was confused—before she just settled on smiling wider. Wide enough to split her cheeks and cause ruby blood to run towards her jawline.
“Perfect!” She grinned and started to rise from the bed. Up and up and up, until she could contort thin, spindly limbs in grotesque, unnatural ways. “We’re gonna be best friends forever!” You yelped as she started to laugh and lunged towards you. Your hand clamped down on Eclipse’s arm as you tugged the two of you out the exit, the girl’s high-pitched laughter following you into the stifled darkness of the haunted house.
You took a short moment to catch your breath as Eclipse clicked and shifted away. “Guys, we’re in a haunted house, remember?” You wiped your hands on your shirt and fixed the headband you still had on so that it wasn't askew. You were starting to feel a little sweaty. Didn’t help that your heart kept running a mile a minute. This had to count as some kind of exercise, right?
Moon grumbled, red eyes partly lidded as he slouched forward. “We know,” he rasped. “Programming.”
You sighed and took his hand so you could give it a little squeeze. It never quite got easier. “I know. Come on.”
The two of you continued to follow the winding and twisting halls, barely illuminated by the lights of Moon’s optics. The pitter-pattering of steps seemed to follow you around, but no matter how much you squinted and looked around, you could never quite figure out where they were coming from. Or who. Moon didn’t let go of your hand, and you weren’t quite sure if that was a good thing or not, for you could hear him occasionally snickering from behind you.
As you made your way down a particularly long hall, you felt Moon tap you on the shoulder.
You shifted your head towards him, but kept your focus before you to avoid running into anything or anyone. “Yeah?” When he didn’t say anything, you raised an eyebrow and glanced at him. Red light caressed your face as though from a warm hand. “You need something?”
He stifled a snicker. “Need what?” he asked, head rotating to the right slightly. You blinked at him, then shook your head.
“Never mind,” you huffed. You figured he was trying to mess with you and turned your gaze back to the front. There was an opening up ahead, nestled between two dark corners. Were you almost at the end? You hoped so.
Moon tapped you again, this time on the side of your arm. You looked over at him again, annoyance starting to crease your eyebrows. “Yes, Moon?”
He only grinned at you this time, cheshire-esque and oozing mischief. “Not me,” he said amusedly. “Look.” He pointed to your opposite side.
You squinted at him, then reluctantly turned your head to look at your other side. Immediately, something jumped out at you, all sharp teeth and bloodied claws. You didn’t even get a good look at it before you were stumbling back and screaming, your hands coming up to protect your face. You fell right into Moon, who snickered something as he caught you with one arm and held you close to his body.
“Oh my god!!” you shouted, fingers trembling as your heart pounded away in your chest. Echoing in your ears. Moon chuckled and guided you down the hall, away from the actor. “Scared the shit out of me, why didn’t you warn me?!”
“Funny,” was all Moon said. You glared up at him, but he wasn’t looking at you. His face plate had turned a complete 180 so he could stare at the person who’d jumpscared you. A glance over your shoulder showed that they were still standing where you’d left them, slowly inching backwards to disappear into the shadows. Moon turned his sharp grin back down to you, his eyes squinted up in delight, though when he spoke, it was in a gentle voice. “We got you.”
You exhaled slowly. “That was real cheap,” you grumbled instead, hands fastening in an iron grip around Moon’s arms as he shuffled you towards the opening at the end of the hall. You took in a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm yourself down, peeved at yourself for falling for something so dumb. As you passed through the opening, someone in a mask reached out of one of the dark corners to attempt to scare you, but upon seeing Moon’s red-tinted glare and wide, threatening smile, they backed away. You didn’t even notice.
The two of you emerged into a large room flooded with blue light that made Moon click and shift into Eclipse once more. You squinted around at the long dining tables interspersed throughout the room and laden with plates of rotted food. There were fancy candelabras decorating their surfaces. The walls were lined in cobwebs and paintings of shadow-like figures. Smoke permeated the air, and trailed around a large, hulking figure standing with its back towards you at one of the tables. You gulped and darted your eyes to the exit at the far end of the room—aglow with light from outside. It was so close.
The figure grunted and growled, then turned around abruptly to face you and Eclipse. It was holding a large, bloodied axe and was dressed in what looked like dry, human-esque skin. You felt the color drain from your face.
“Little piggies!” The figure grinned with decayed teeth and took a large step towards you. “Just in time for the feast! Come here!” He darted towards you, moving surprisingly fast for his huge form.
“We’ll pass, thanks!” you yelped as you ducked out of the way of his lumbering form. An actor! Just an actor, just an actor!! You started to run for the exit, weaving your way through the dining tables.
“Friend! No running!” Eclipse called out worriedly as he skipped after you. The large figure roared after you both, and you could feel the heavy steps it took as it gave chase. You were so done with this.
“Fuck that! I’m outta here!” you yelled back, then flinched when something lunged at you from above. You ducked and glanced up just in time to see a massive spider retreat back up to the foggy ceiling. How did they have the budget for that?? You didn’t even bother to linger—you just kept your head low as you ran straight for the exit, avoiding a few more spiders that lunged at you from the ceiling and ignoring Eclipse’s calls.
At last, at long last, you made it out of the haunted house and into the brightly lit space past its doors. You huffed as you braced yourself against your knees outside, willing your breathing to ease into something more normal and your heart to stop feeling as though it was going to take off into outer space.
There were a few people lingering around outside, laughing and talking as they told each other of their experiences in the haunted house. You grumbled and straightened up just as Sun came skipping towards you, hat back on his head and his grin as amused as ever.
“That was fun!” he chimed as he came to a stop next to you, hands on his hips as he looked around. You had both emerged at the back entrance of the building instead of the front this time, though instead of food stalls and stages, there were places to take pictures or pose with some of the haunted house actors still dressed in costume.
“For you maybe,” you said dryly as you adjusted the ogre ears headband once more. A small breeze drifted by that made you shiver slightly and look up at the dark sky. “Or Moon, I guess. Sorry you didn’t quite have any time out while we were in there.”
Sun waved a hand. “That’s okay, Friend! It was fun watching, in any case!”
“Fun watching me freak out, I bet,” you scoffed in a lighthearted manner. Now that you were outside, you were feeling much better. You likely wouldn’t be doing that again for a while, though you had to admit it was fun, in its own way.
Sun chuckled. “While it was very amusing watching you get scared, I will say I would much rather prefer you have a heart rate below 130 bpm!”
You let out a pfft at his words. “Thanks I guess? It wasn’t too bad, though.” You waved off his worries like they were nothing. It was fine! You were fine.
Sun cocked his head at you, then grinned suddenly in response and leaned down closer to you to hover right above your head. His smile sharpened.
“Well, how about a round two, then?”
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charcubed · 1 year
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I NEEEED people—especially those with unfathomably large platforms???—to start doing just a tiny bit of internal evaluation before they log onto a blue website and say “I don’t want these queer characters to fuck in canon” or “I’d be fine if these characters never kissed again” or whatever.
This is a post about Good Omens and the prospect of Aziraphale and Crowley potentially having sex in season 3. It's a response to a tweet that I'm crossposting, but let it be known the above statement and this topic applies broadly across multiple fandoms too.
But anyway, in regards to Good Omens specifically:
I am seeing this take that essentially boils down to "Canon has now made it clear that these characters want to have sex with each other through subtext (i.e. Aziraphale and the ox), but I don’t want that to reach narrative completion because the idea of them having sex makes me uncomfortable or isn’t my personal preference” and it is, to put it mildly and delicately, A Very Bad Take.
This is rhetorical (and I do not expect or particularly want an answer), but: explain to me how and why queer characters who are unavoidably visibly queer (aka 2 "man-shaped beings") fucking on screen wouldn’t be a net positive, especially when you can indicate how canon has set it up.
Presumably, some people say things like this because ~they want to see them as visibly ace.~ Okay. But by some of these people’s own admission, there IS more evidence in canon now to indicate these characters crave sex with each other (vs arguing otherwise)... yet people would rather that be ignored/erased all for the sake of them feeling comfortable or feeling better about what canon shows or doesn’t show explicitly??
I’m sorry, but—speaking as an ace person, to be clear—your personal preferences for the story shouldn’t / don’t affect anything here. There’s too much in this.
Yeah, I understand on a personal level not having “representation.” I almost never see myself or my unique experiences and identity reflected in stories. And yet, I also understand that that doesn’t change any story or the world in which we live. Things like this are not said in a vacuum.
Any queer characters having sex on screen IS a net positive. It is rare and impactful, and openly calling for or hoping for otherwise when canon points to its potential is a detrimental alliance with purity culture, whether intentionally or accidentally. Because we live in a Goddamn society!
Who knows (other than Neil Gaiman) whether Aziraphale and Crowley ARE going to fuck on international TV. None of us do! But the subtext right now blatantly says they’re starving for it. And you don’t have to like the prospect of that, but honestly? We SHOULD get to see it play out. There’s no truly legitimate reason we shouldn’t ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Whether you "prefer" it or not.
And my ultimate hot take is… if someone balks at the idea of that or doesn’t understand the importance of it, despite even seeing the subtext… then they should perhaps unpack that? Just a thought.
Truly the way fandoms are managing to hit either “subtext doesn’t count :/ ” or “let’s keep it to subtext so it’s ‘open to interpretation’ :) ” nowadays depending on what corner one visits is MADDENING. Whiplash-inducing. Surreal. And so much nonsense you can’t pick where to start.
So! I do genuinely hope I'm not kicking off discourse but I felt this Needed To Be Said (and on more than one site). Because posts like “even if they never kiss again, we’ve won <3 “ make me want to be like…
These characters are YEARNING. Do not doom them and us to it. For once, we can reach for the stars and maybe–against all odds–pull them down. Embrace it!
---
[Update: after more discourse has occurred, I have somewhat elaborated on this further, from the POV of the significance of the queer themes in Good Omens and more specifically how they center illicit pleasure/desire]
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brainrockets · 1 year
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Some of the Suvi critics out there are... something. I mean, I get it if you don't enjoy media because of unpleasantness. I very definitely avoided Succession because it squicked me deeply.
So if Suvi squicks ya out. Like sure fine. But some of the interpretations of Suvi being irredeemable or 'not showing signs' that she might be 'redeemable' are just weird? To me?
I mean. I also was raised in one of the cristofascist American evangelical death cults and had to deprogram and unlearn a lot in my 20s and have done a lot of work to be in a healthy space now so... maybe I just have sympathy for being 20 and just suddenly seeing cracks appear in the way you understand yourself and the world around you?
One thing people seem real perturbed by is Suvi's behavior towards Ame (and Ame's seeming lack of correction of that behavior).
And I think there are a few things at play here.
1. Suvi was raised in a highly ordered hierarchy as a soldier from early childhood.
2. Ame is a witch of the heart and has been handling all manner of village nonsense and nonsense people for years.
3. Suvi has not had ANY sort of psychological safety or release since maybe the Cottage. She is more afraid of Steel than Orima.
4. Ame is worried about Suvi. Worried about the way she killed without trouble. The way she's not allowed herself to express feelings for the most part other than anger.
5. When you have a lot of feelings and no safe way to let them out. They still come out. Usually inappropriately. Often paradoxically they get vented on people you feel safe with. Not to say that's acceptable or good but it is pretty normal?
6. Paradoxically, while Ame is safe to be mad at, perhaps subconsciously, Suvi also views Ame as a threat. And she's not wrong. Ame is a huge threat to her. Ame threatens to upend everything that Suvi believes about herself, about magic, about her world. She also plays by different rules and has actively exposed Suvi to risk by divulging things Suvi wanted to keep private. (Not with malice but definitely flagrantly flouting basic rules because she doesn't know they exist.) She also is a threat to the defenses Suvi has built around herself in the wake of her parents' deaths. The way that she has used the notion of the Citadel's correctness as a shield against the pain of loss.
7. I think Ame has dealt with wounded animals and wounded people fairly regularly in her role as apprentice. I think that Ame knows that wounded creatures snap at someone even if they are trying to help. Snapping back at her isn't maybe the move right now. And she has expressed dissent, she's not leaving her nonsense totally alone. She's just carefully cutting away little pieces of net and tutting at her raging and getting a little closer each time. And when Suvi finally lets herself cry instead of rage, Ame reacts with the same patient care she'd use with an injured animal.
8. Also, i do think people are missing Suvi's actions behind her words. Particularly vis a vis redeemable qualities. She does talk mad shit and she says some truly terrible things. But her actions are in conflict with her words. She abandoned her training and her responsibility to help Ame break her curse. He outfitted her friends from the armory and rented out a whole floor of an inn just to be kind. She's kept silent on Honored Friends the entire time she's been at the Citadel. Steel told her to stay and wait but she ran after Ame anyways. She was making a lot of threats but now that Eursulon has promised to free the Great Spirit her only issue with helping do it is that Steel might kill her first. She is ready to throw down for her friends with extreme prejudice.
She's at a crossroads. I find it very hopeful. But like again, I relate pretty heavily to being young and afraid and angry as the world opens up before you and everything you thought you knew is wrong and harming people. Knowing there's a chasm and on one side is your family and your community and on the other side is the unknown and your friends.
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actual-changeling · 1 year
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@thegirlwhowatchedtv
Alright, I do not want to derail OPs original post, so I will make my own!
Disclaimer: If anyone tries to argue that something Aziraphale does "isn't that bad" or tries to blame Crowley for it, you will be blocked. I'm an abuse survivor and that kind of denial is not just disrespectful but also triggering to me personally, and I do not want it anywhere near me; I hope you can respect that.
Discussions and arguments are fine, abuse denial is not.
Disclaimer 2: I don't hate Aziraphale, none of this is hate, I understand he is acting based on his own trauma. However, none of that excuses his behaviour, and I will delete any and all responses that say something along the lines of 'his trauma means he gets a free pass to treat Crowley like shit'.
--
With that out of the way, let's get into it, shall we?
Yes, you’re right that he’s not fully listening to Crowley
This is the first point that is also the most important one. If we do not properly look at this, every other interpretation of what comes after will be (partly) incorrect. I have already written several metas about this, and I will do it again.
Aziraphale isn't not just "not fully listening", he is not listening period. He has not been listening to Crowley the entire season, and he sure as fuck doesn't start now.
but a large part of it is that he doesn’t even understand what Crowley is saying to him or why he’s saying it.
The fault lies by Aziraphale and Aziraphale alone.
"It's probably best if I start off doing all the talking and you do all the listening."
Crowley is telling him hey, I have something very important to say, and I really want you to just listen to me for a moment. Every single time Aziraphale wanted to tell him something, Crowley listened. All he is asking for is the same. But Aziraphale does not care about what Crowley wants to say and never has. From the second he enters the shop, he is not listening or giving a single fuck about what Crowley wants.
Aziraphale wants everything to be about himself; he is the most important being ever so Crowley needs to "hold his thought" aka shut the fuck up. Following so far?
From his perspective, he comes to Crowley with this huge offer that will solve all their problems, Crowley shuts it down, and then abruptly changes the subject.
Yes, that is indeed his perspective, and his perspective is 'valid'. However, it is so far removed from reality it borders on delusional and thus CANNOT be considered as an 'alternative' to what is actually happening here. Aziraphale thinking this is a problem, not an excuse.
Aziraphale looks baffled and isn’t fully listening in this scene because he doesn’t understand what any of this has to do with the Metatron’s offer.
Again, Aziraphale not listening is a problem, Crowley does not need to do anything different because the issue here is Aziraphale not listening. Aziraphale has NEVER listened.
The Metatron's offer, yes. The one he presented to Crowley not as an offer but as a decision he made for the both of them without asking Crowley if that's what he wants. He shows up and tells Crowley "I have decided that you will lose everything about yourself and go back to the place that cast you out because I want to try and change a system that cannot be changed. Your thoughts on this don't matter because this is what I want and I have decided you also want what I want."
Healthy much, huh? Fucking disrespectful is what it is, and Crowley would have had every right to punch him for this alone.
He’s anxious to get back to the subject of heaven because from his perspective, Crowley is ignoring what he said and refusing to engage in a discussion about it.
Aziraphale is a gigantic hypocrite and again, yes, this is his perspective, but it is NOT based on reality or in the least bit proportional to what is going on. It is NOT an excuse for any of his behaviour, it doesn't matter if that's how he sees things because the way he handles it is horrible and hurtful.
When Crowley puts his sunglasses back on and walks away, he tries to follow him and practically begs him to come with him, because at that point he, too, is panicked and desperate, and thinks that Crowley is giving up and rejecting him.
Aziraphale is not begging. Crowley was begging. Aziraphale is doing what he always does - he is trying to manipulate him. I'm tired of people not seeing that, so I will pull out a fucking checklist.
First point: He is making decisions for Crowley without allowing him freedom of thought or speech. Quite obvious, I believe.
"To heaven! Work with me."
Aziraphale is trying to use Crowley's attachment to him to make him forego his own boundaries and do what he wants instead. This is something he has been doing for centuries.
"We can be together!"
Here he is repeating what Crowley actively said he wants - he wants them to be together. Aziraphale is "offering" that without understanding the difference between their expressions of it. Another attempt at emotionally manipulating Crowley by pretending that he and Crowley want the same thing and that Crowley is being unreasonable.
"Angels, doing good!"
Same thing, trying to bait him with something that Aziraphale thinks of as the ultimate reward for Crowley, ignoring that a) Crowley does not want it and b) this is the climax of millennia of Aziraphale telling him he does not love him as a demon. So it obviously does not fucking work.
"I need you!"
Ahhh, classic guilt tripping tactic. Aziraphale is trying to make Crowley feel bad and guilty for not wanting to follow him to heaven, actively pushing the buttons he knows exist because he put them there. 'Rescuing me makes him so happy.' Aziraphale knows that and he is using that knowledge to get Crowley to ignore his boundaries and thoughts to come and 'rescue' him instead.
By now, Crowley is looking away and not responding to any of his manipulation tactics.
"I don't think you understand what I'm offering you."
I can't even begin to describe how horrible that sentence is. Not only is he completely ignoring Crowley's history of pain and trauma (that he never cared about and often doing the opposite by implying he deserved it), he is telling him that he is stupid and neglecting all the rightful concerns Crowley has had over the centuries.
His intention is to get Crowley to submit to him by making him feel as if he is incapable of making decisions for himself in this regard so that Aziraphale can make them for him instead.
If you can read this and not be physically and emotionally repulsed by it then I honestly don't know.
Crowley, who stopped when Aziraphale called and hates himself for it, finally responds.
"I understand. I think I understand a whole lot better than you do."
I'm my own person who understands this situation and can make decisions for myself.
It's the truth. Aziraphale is spinning lies, and he is trying to cut through them with the truth, but Aziraphale doesn't care.
"Well, then there's nothing more to say."
Besides wanting to have the last word, Aziraphale once again does what he did in episode one: my way or the highway. I will leave you or force you to leave me if you don't do what I say.
Just that this time it does not work because Crowley knows he will lose him no matter what.
They both also stubbornly refuse to understand that the other person would never in a million years go with them.
Crowley KNOWS that Aziraphale does not want to run away. He wants to keep Aziraphale safe, and in his mind, the only way of doing that is to get as far away from the danger as possible.
And I want you to actually look at Crowley's speeches.
EVERY SINGLE TIME he ASKS. He ASKS Aziraphale to run away with him, he says please come with me, he says I want this, do you want it to? He says I love you, I love us, I want to keep us safe, will you come with me?
When Aziraphale says no, he respects that. He doesn't try to manipulate Aziraphale the way Aziraphale is manipulating him - who also NEVER FUCKING ASKS HIM. He just assumes he knows what Crowley wants and decides for the two of them.
So why would he leave now that he’s being presented with an opportunity to fix things in heaven and protect the earth? Of course he wouldn’t.
He wouldn't. And that's the point. The only choice for Aziraphale is to go to heaven, and the only choice for Crowley is not to go.
There is NO version of this where they do not separate over this. Any version in which Crowley tries to follow him ends with Crowley dead and wiped from existence. This is the only way this argument could have gone because Aziraphale is currently incapable of making rational decisions.
but Aziraphale has no idea that’s why that happened to Gabriel because Crowley didn’t tell him
Even if he had Aziraphale would not have listened. Aziraphale has treated Crowley like fucking GARBAGE for centuries, never shown compassion, never offered a safe space to talk about all the horrible things that have happened to him. The problem is not Crowley not telling him, the problem is Aziraphale being so unreceptive and full of himself that Crowley COULDN'T tell him.
They’re both well-intentioned and terrified of losing each other, and as a result, they both handle this argument badly and lose each other anyway.
Handle this badly - there is no other option. Crowley is handling this as well as he can but Aziraphale is stuck where he is and needs to choose to break out of it. There is no version where this works out well. I am not misinterpreting Aziraphale, I am simply not excusing or ignoring all his unhealthy and maladaptive coping mechanisms and manipulation attempts like so many people seem bound to do.
I am so fucking tired of trying to excuse Aziraphale's actions as if this hasn't been his behaviour since Eden. Six bloody thousand years and he has not learned a single thing and still treats Crowley like shit.
Crowley chooses himself over Aziraphale for the very first time and I am so, so proud of him for that. I know how hard it is, and he is in so much pain because he loves Aziraphale, he doesn't want to lose him, but he loves himself more.
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undercovergamer · 9 months
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✨Klee’s Friendly “Monster”✨
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(Requested by an anonymous user)
It’s a busy day in Mondstadt, and none of the Knights have enough time to watch Klee. However, luckily for them, a certain oni just so happened to be in Mondstadt because ✨lazy writing✨, so not all hope was lost. Itto ends up babysitting and playing games with Klee, as per Kaeya’s recommendation.
‼️This fic is strictly familial, do not interpret otherwise /srs or I’ll eat your knees. /neg‼️
⚠️Also contains tickles so if ur not comfortable with that, do not read more than like… half, ok?⚠️
Anyway, I’m so sorry for the wait and enjoy this wholesome family fic 😛
I better not despawn again or istg :((
Word Count: ≈4157
It was a sunny day in Mondstadt. Master Jean needed someone to watch over Klee for the day while she took care of some important work. She’d asked Kaeya for help with this, but he had other plans this day. Of course he didn’t mind playing with Klee, but he was too busy to watch her properly. Hmm, what to do…
Jean sighed, trying to come up with solutions. “What should we do then? Maybe… maybe Lisa could watch her?” she suggested.
“I’m afraid she’s fully booked at the moment.” Kaeya replied with a slight smirk, making Jean narrow her eyes. “But, I do have another suggestion.”
“Go on.” It seemed as if everyone was busy, who could he possibly suggest?
“I’m sure you’ve heard about that new guy in town. Y’know, tall, white hair, red horns..?” Kaeya explained, hoping Jean knew about him already.
She looked at him in disbelief.
“You can’t be serious…” Surely he of all people was not the most responsible choice…?
“Of course I am. I’ve gotten to know him quite well, actually. He already gets along great with Klee.” Kaeya said confidently.
“I’d argue his grandmother is a better choice. I mean, if she can handle Itto, she could handle anyone.”
“Aw, come on. Give him a chance, he’s an adult! I’m sure they’ll be alright.”
Jean wasn’t too enthusiastic with this idea. Especially not since Itto had already caused trouble, despite being in Mondstadt for just over a week. Two days ago, he had refused to leave the Cat’s Tail after closing hours, arguing that the cats wanted him to stay. And a day before that, he and his gang were caught placing posters around the buildings and walls without legal permission. If it wasn’t for Kaeya taking a liking to him and his granny, he’d be in jail by now.
It took quite a while, but after some back-and-forth, Kaeya finally managed to convince Jean to let the oni babysit.
“Ok, fine! But you will also be held responsible if they cause any trouble.” She said, still a bit anxious about the idea.
“He’s responsible when he wants to be. Please trust me on this.” Kaeya reassured with a confident smirk.
After their conversation, Kaeya went to look for Itto so he could tell him the news. He was already hanging out with Klee, who was showing off her cool witch outfit, so it didn’t take long to inform the two. Already besties, they happily agreed to the idea, so Kaeya decided to let them wreak a little havoc on their own for a while.
Eventually, the two sillies left the city to play in Windrise instead. Klee sat on Itto’s shoulders and used his horns to steer him in the right directions. Once they arrived, Klee helped him explore the area so he’d know where everything was before hanging out around a nearby fishing spot.
“This place is pretty chill. It’s so peaceful here!” Itto said, looking at the little fishies swimming around. He thought they were pretty cute.
“Yes! This place is the best!” Klee exclaimed, happily jumping up and down.
“Hahaha! You have good taste, lil’ dude! Er… dudette! What’cha wanna do now?” Itto had plenty of ideas already, but he wanted to know Klee’s thoughts first.
“Klee wants to show you how to go fish blasting! It’s lots of fun, and we get delicious fish at the same time!” Klee exclaimed, getting ready to throw some of her signature dodoco bombs.
“Ah, er- how about we play something… less explosive? You know, like Jean said, we can’t blow anything up…” He’d been told to keep her safe, after all.
“But-! Aw… ok…” Klee said sadly, looking down in disappointment. How can grown-ups be so cruel?
“Aww, why the long face? It’s ok! We could play tag instead! Or how about hide-and-seek? Whatever you want!” He tried to suggest some other fun activities to cheer her up.
“Ooh! Yes! Klee loves those games! Let’s play both!” It worked like a charm as she looked up at him with a beaming smile.
“Ooh, both? Like at once? … Oh! Then maybe we could add new rules and stuff, right?” Itto suggested with excitement, curious to see what they could come up with together.
Klee gasped. “Yay! We can make our own game!” she cheered. She loved making up games with her friends, so this idea was perfect!
“Yeah!! Exactly! So what do you wanna add? I think we could go with regular hide-and-seek rules, but the hider can run away and change spots ‘n’ stuff…” Itto was more than ready to cook up some rules, but he quickly realized he’d have the upper hand…
“How about this: You hide, and run, I guess, while I seek! It’s more fair that way since you’re tiny.” Itto said with a chuckle, feeling proud of his idea and giving Klee a playful pat on the head. Winning too easily would be boring for both sides, after all.
“Ooh! Okay! But Klee wants to play pretend, too! How about you play as a big, scary monster? It’ll be fun, teehee!” Klee suggested, feeling excited about her idea. She wanted to be a witch that could cast spells to protect herself from the “mighty beast” before her.
“Hmm, good idea, little witch! We could have different safe spots too, like that tree! So basically if you touch it, you’re safe and I can’t get you.” Itto explained, looking around to decide on some other areas too.
“Yes!! Let’s go find more safe spots!” Klee exclaimed, excited to expand their play area.
After lots of planning and walking around to mark safe spots and barriers, they put their heads together to imagine where exactly their play area was. Klee had two spells at her disposal: one to freeze the monster in place, and one to turn herself invisible. They last ten seconds each and give her more control over the game, making it more fun and exciting. The different safe spots were marked with little rock piles and sticks. How cute!
Once the planning had finished, the sillies went back to the lake to officially start their game.
“Alright! I’ll count to 20, right? Heh, I won’t go easy on you, so you’d better find a good hiding spot!” Itto said playfully, covering his eyes to start counting.
“Eeee! This is so much fun!” Klee cheered, jumping up and down with excitement. She could barely wait for the game to start!
“Hehe. You ready? One… two…” Itto started counting, and Klee quickly ran off to hide somewhere… The games had begun!
“18… 19… 20! Ready or not, here I come!” He called out, looking around himself just in case the little witch had hid nearby. “Where did you go…?” he said playfully, searching around the area.
He checked behind a tree… but no one was there.
He checked in some bushes… but no girl was found.
He checked behind a large rock…
“Aha! There you are!” …and found little Klee crouched down behind it!
“Eep! Oh no! Hehehe!” She quickly got up, making some dramatic motions with her hands before shouting “Freeze!”
“Ack- noo!” Itto dramatically acted as if he got frozen in place by her magic.
“Hehehe! Can’t catch me!” Klee taunted playfully, running away to hide somewhere else.
“J-Just you wait!” Itto stuttered, pretending to feel cold from the “spell.” After ten seconds had passed, he shook himself off and sprung back into action, searching once again.
He checked near some trees, looking behind them.
“Where could she be…?” he asked himself, but then.. he heard a giggle coming from some nearby bushes. He could’ve sworn he saw a little red hat sticking out! So, he got an idea.
“Oh noooo, where did she goooo~? Ah, she’s too good at hiding! I’ll never find her at this rate~!” he said, louder than necessary in a silly voice to make Klee laugh.
“Pfft- hehehehe!” she tried to hold it in, as to not reveal her brilliant hiding spot, but Itto was simply too funny. He grinned and moved closer to the bushes, hearing the giggles increase.
“Oh? Who put this giggly bush here? That’s so strange…” he said, pretending to inspect this mysterious bush. But then…
“BOO!!” Klee suddenly jumped up, scaring the mighty “beast” before her.
“AAH!!” Itto actually got spooked and stumbled backwards, making Klee laugh.
“Hehehehe! Are you okay, Mr. Monster?” Klee asked, giggling at the oni’s dramatic reaction.
Itto cleared his throat and composed himself, nodding at her question. “Hahaha… y-you little rascal! Just you wait ‘til I-”
“Wooosh! I’m invisible!” Klee interrupted, casting her little spell and giggling as Itto pretended to lose track of her. He seemed so confused, looking around dramatically.
“Wha-?! Huh?! Where did you go?“ he said, turning around to look elsewhere. “Little witch? Come back!” he called out, being a master actor.
“Hehehe!” Klee ran around him, poking his sides suddenly, which made him jump.
“EEP! Hey! Wh-?! Who did that?!” Itto exclaimed, turning around, but Klee wasn’t behind him anymore. She giggled and ran around him, poking and tickling him for the funny.
“Ack- pfft- h-hehehey!” Itto giggled, trying to shield himself while pretending not to see the little witch poking him relentlessly.
“Hehe! Tickle spell!” Klee said, poking and tickling every time Itto looked away from her.
“Th-Thahahat’s n-not a spehehell!” He said, trying to step away from the little attack without squirming too much. “Y-You m-mahahade thahat uhuhuhup!”
“Hehehe! The monster is ticklish! You’re funny!” Klee said, giggling at the revelation and giving him a playful hug.
Itto quickly composed himself after that adorable attack. “Eheh… y-you know you’re not invisible anymore, right?” he said, smiling playfully and looking directly at her.
“What..?” Klee looked confused, but then remembered the ten second rule. “Oops..!” Oh no, he could see her now!
“Heheh, imma getcha!” Itto said, getting ready to capture the mischievous little witch once and for all!
“Eek! Hehehe!” Klee playfully ran away, running towards a safe space.
“Ohohoho! No you don’t! Get back here!” Itto said playfully, making his voice a bit deeper to fit his role.
Klee ran as fast as her little legs could carry her, giggling with anticipation as she was about to reach the safe space in front of her. But then… she tripped, barely missing it, and fell to the ground with a thud causing her hat to fly off. Itto gasped, catching up and quickly crouching down beside her.
“Whoa! A-Are you alright there, kiddo?” Itto asked, carefully helping her stand back up. She looked up at him with big, teary eyes. Oh no…
“Aw… hey, are you hurt? You ok?” he asked softly, checking if she’d scraped a knee or something.
“Th- *hic* That was so scary!!” Klee sobbed, sniffling and covering her eyes.
“H-Hey, don’t cry… you’re ok! It’s ok! C’mere, lemme give you a big ol’ monster hug!” Itto said, grinning playfully to lighten the mood. Klee hugged Itto, getting herself lifted into the air in a playful bear- I mean- monster hug.
“Hey, you okay, little witch?” Itto asked, patting her head softly.
“Mhm… Klee just got scared…” she said, wiping her tears and smiling a little, hugging her not-so-scary monster friend.
“Aww… it’s okay, little one! Uncle Itto is here to cheer ya’ right up!” Itto crouched down to pick up Klee’s hat, gently placing it back on her head.
“Hehe! You’re the best!” Klee said, smiling and hugging him tight.
“So whaddya say? You wanna keep playing?” he asked in a playful tone.
“Hehe! Yes!” Klee said, smiling happily.
“Alright! One sec.” Itto said, clearing his throat. “Rawr! I got you now! Mwahahaha!” he said, getting back into his role instantly and playfully holding the little witch in his mighty monster hug.
“Eek! Oh no! Hehehe!” Klee started giggling, but hugged him back tightly anyway.
“What will you do now, hm? There’s no escape from the almighty Arataki ‘Playful Tickle Monster’ Itto!” He kept his speech dramatic to make their game more immersive and fun, sitting down to lean against a tree, with Klee in his lap.
“Hehehehe! Freeze!” She exclaimed, giggling lots and flailing to escape that playful trap.
“Heh, nope. Sorry, little witch, but your spells don’t work on me now!” Itto said smugly, pointing back at the tree he was leaning on.
“Oh no!” It was one of the safe spaces they’d marked! Klee had lost the game!
“Hahaha! Brace yourself, kiddo! Cus imma getcha!” He teased, playfully wiggling his fingers above her. “You alright with that?” Itto asked with a playful grin, making sure Klee was still having fun.
“Hehehe! Yeah!” She exclaimed, playfully giggling as the tickly hand came closer.
“Alright then! Stop me whenever, ok?” He said before playfully tickling her tummy, keeping it gentle since she’s so tiny.
“Kitchy kitchy coo~” he said in a silly way.
“Eep! Hehehehehe!! That tickles!” Klee squeaked, giggling happily and playfully squirming. Itto wasn’t holding her or anything, so she could escape whenever she wanted to.
“Tickle tickle~” Itto said playfully, giggling along with her. She was so cute!
“Ehehehehehehe!! Eek!!” Klee squealed and pushed his hand away.
“Haha! You alright?” Itto stopped for a moment, being careful not to overwhelm the kid.
Klee panted a bit. “Hehehehe! This is so much fun!” She exclaimed.
“Really now? Guess you’re in for more tickles then!” Itto said, playfully tickling the little witch.
“Eeeeee! Hehehehehehehe!!” She had the sweetest little smile on her face, and she was having an absolute blast!
“Ehehehehe! Help! Help! It’s the tickle monster!” Klee squealed for dramatic effect, playfully trying to squirm away.
“Hahaha! You having fun, kiddo?” Itto stopped tickling again to let her catch her breath.
“Hehe… Yes! This is fun!” she said, happy to take a little break now.
“Hehe, alright! Just lemme know when you’re ready, m’kay?” Itto said, making a funny face at her.
“Hehehehehe!” She thought it was funny and gave him a hug again. “You’re the best!” she said, melting his heart. So cute!
“Aww, you two are getting along quite well, I see.” A familiar voice was heard, as a man walked towards them.
“(Gasp) Kaeya!” Klee smiled and sprang up from Itto’s lap, happily running towards him.
“Haha, hello there, little one!” Kaeya crouched down to hug her while smiling softly as she ran into him with open arms.
“Oh hey man! What’s up?” Itto asked, standing up to greet him as well.
“Ah, well, I just came check on you both. You should tell me where you’re going next time. Though, I figured I’d find you two somewhere around here.” Kaeya explained.
“Ohh, right. Haha! Sorry, I totally forgot!” Itto said sheepishly, chuckling a bit at his error.
“Kaeya! Please join our game! It’ll be lots of fun!!” Klee chimed in excitedly, tugging on his shirt.
“Oh? Well, what are the rules?” Kaeya asked.
“Hehehe! You have to protect me from the tickle monster!” Klee said, giggling and pointing over at Itto, who chuckled and made a “scary monster” pose, grinning at Kaeya with a playful expression.
“Ah. I see.” Kaeya had already guessed what the game was, and he didn’t need a detailed explanation. He simply chuckled and accepted Klee’s request. “Very well, then. I’ll keep you safe!” he said with dramatic effect.
“Yay!” Klee cheered, bouncing up and down.
“Aw yeah! Let’s get this thing started!” Itto chimed in, excited to have Kaeya join.
Soon enough, round two began as the little witch ran away, laughing happily.
“Eek! Hehehe! Help!” Klee giggled, running around the field.
“Grr! Imma getcha!” Itto said playfully, laughing and trying to avoid Kaeya as he playfully chased after her.
“Not to worry, little one. Cavalry Captain Kaeya is here to rescue you!” Kaeya replied, taking his role seriously and blocking Itto’s path once he caught up.
Itto was failing to maneouver around properly as the knight kept grabbing him and spinning him around, back to where he started every time he slipped past. It almost looked like they were dancing.
“C’mon, man! Get outta the way!” Itto protested, trying to act fierce despite the silly smile on his face.
“Nope. As Klee’s personal guard, it is my duty to protect her.” Kaeya replied with a smug look.
“Tch. Guess I’ll just have to capture you too then!” Itto said, trying to wrestle Kaeya instead. But, after a few seconds of their playful scuffle…
“Freeze!”
…Klee said the thing, causing Itto to freeze in place with Kaeya stuck in his arms. Oopsie. He had no choice but to follow the rules of the game.
“H-Hey! No fair!” Itto complained, arms wrapped tightly around Kaeya.
“Oh? Oh my.” Kaeya couldn’t help but laugh softly as Klee used his catchphrase like that. It was adorable.
“Oh no! Kaeya, I froze both of you by accident!” Klee said in shock, gasping with a dramatic look on her face. How could she have done this?
“Ah, how unfortunate. Haha, does that mean we’re stuck here?” Kaeya asked, unsure of what to do now.
“Yup! But only for ten seconds.” Itto said, as Klee started counting down from ten.
“… sooo, this isn’t awkward, right?” Itto asked Kaeya.
“Heh, no, not at all. I think it’s quite pleasant for friends to hug each other like this. Even if we��re frozen.” Kaeya replied with a chuckle.
“Oh, phew! I’m just glad you’re not uncomfortable or anything.”
“Hehe, I don’t mind this at all, actually.”
“Wooosh! You’re free!” Right as their conversation ended, Klee was done with the countdown and the two men were freed from their icy prison, except…
“Oh no! Kaeya!”
… Kaeya was still stuck in Itto’s hug, and Itto started tickling him.
“Pfft- ahahahahaha! Hehey! L-Lehet goho!” He wasn’t too surprised with this turn of events, but had nearly forgotten he was ticklish.
“Nah-uh, you’re my nearest target~ hahaha!” Itto replied with a grin, hugging the squirming man in place while tickling his waist.
“Ahahahahahaha! Kleehehehee! Hehehelp!” Surely one of her spells would do the trick…?
“Um… Klee can’t cast that freeze spell yet. Sorry! Hehehe!” Klee said, giggling at the scene. It was funny to see them both play like this, and certainly quite rare for two adults to act so silly.
“Ahahahah-AH- pfft..! H-Hey…!” Itto brushed over a rather sensitive rib area, making Kaeya yelp.
“What’s wrong, weak spot?” He tried finding it again, making the poor man laugh more.
“Tch-.. bh- bahahAHAHA! AhahahAHAHA!” Kaeya squirmed in failed attempts to escape, and he slowly made his way to the ground.
“Tickle tickle tickle…” Itto found it hilarious how much this man could squirm and laugh. Who would’ve thought Kaeya would be so ticklish?
“AH! Ahahahahaha!! Stop! StohOHOhop! I- I yield!” The knight felt a bit embarrassed to get overpowered so easily, but thankfully Itto listened to his plea and stopped tickling him.
“Hehehe! You’re so funny, Kaeya!” Klee said, laughing at the goofy tickle fight before her.
“Hahaha! Who would’ve thought someone as tough as you could be so ticklish, huh?” Itto teased, helping him sit up.
“Ha ha, v-very funny, Itto…” Kaeya replied, chuckling a little while he caught his breath.
“So, uh… do I win? I mean, I got both of you already, so…” Itto asked, a little confused on the rules.
“I guess so… but it was so much fun!” Klee said, smiling brightly at the two of them, hopping up and down.
“Heh, indeed it was.” Kaeya said, totally not planning his revenge already.
“Hehe! Let’s play more!” Klee cheered, running up to them.
“Yeah!” Itto said, still full of energy as always.
“Good idea, Klee. Hmm…” Kaeya already had an idea. “Hey, would you like to help me get some playful revenge?” He asked the little girl.
“Huh?!” Itto wasn’t having it.
“It’ll be funny, I bet.” Kaeya said with a smug glance at Itto.
“Ooh, hehehe! Yes! He’s ticklish too!” Klee said, smiling up at Itto, who now seemed rather nervous.
“Whuh? Me?? No way! That’s just sillEEHhehe! Hey!!”
“Oops. My hand slipped.” Kaeya teased. He definitely didn’t slide a tickly finger up Itto’s side or anything. And he totally didn’t do it on purpose to make the man yelp.
“Pfft, as if! I’m not ticklish, I was just surp-prihihised! Hehey! Hahahaha!”
“Tickle spell~! Hehehehe!” Klee unleashed her tickle attack upon his tum, making him laugh again.
“Hm?” Kaeya noticed her words, seeing an opportunity…
“Stahaha-! That’s not a thihing!” Itto protested, and he tried tickling her back. But before he could, he felt Kaeya grabbing his arms with his own, rendering him unable to move or defend himself.
“Not so fast. It’s our turn to win now.” Kaeya said, as he proceeded to join the little witch in an act of silly vengance. “Get him, Klee! Time to defeat this tickle monster.” he says with a playful tone.
“Wh- Huh? Wahahait!” How dare they do this? Two on one isn’t fair!
“Hehehe! The tickle monster is ticklish too! You’re funny!” Klee said, giggling as she tickled and poked his tum and ribs.
“Pfft- hngh…” Itto didn’t know what to do at this point. He held back his laughter due to embarrassment, but at the same time he didn’t want to escape and disappoint little Klee.
“Hmm… Itto, are you going to laugh? Or do I need to help her?” Kaeya asked, smirking deviously.
“Pfft- eheh- pffwahahahahaha!!” He had no choice but to give in after that threat, and he couldn’t squirm very far anyway with Kaeya holding him like this.
“Hehehe! Tickly tickly!” Klee said, smiling as she played him like a piano.
“Ahahahahahaha!! Nohohoho!” It wasn’t that bad actually, but he was being dramatic anyway for the fun of it.
“Great job, Klee! I’m sure he’ll surrender in no time.” Kaeya said, chuckling as he tried to prevent the oni’s squirms.
“Nohohohoho! Never!! Hahahaha!”
“Oh, come on. You’ll have to yield eventually… right? Otherwise I’ll have to join…” Oh, he’s just mean.
“Hehe! Klee will lend her spell to you too, Kaeya!” Klee said, giggling at the nervous expression on Itto’s face.
“Really? Why, thank you, little one.” Kaeya said, but once he let go to shift his grip, he didn’t have enough time to tickle before Itto tried to escape.
“This is so unfair!” the oni cried, failing to squirm away as Kaeya pushed him down.
“Sorry, buddy. I’m not quite done with my revenge just yet…” The captain said, before tickling his ribs.
“Ahahahahahaha!! Yohohou ahahahahahass! Hahahahaha!!” Itto laughed and squirmed, but he also tried to hold still so he doesn’t accidentally squirm into Klee.
Kaeya gasped. “Itto! Language!” he scolded, tickling harder and faster as a punishment. How dare he say such a word in front of a child? Unacceptable! Tsk tsk tsk.
“NahahAHAHAHAHAHA!!” Itto’s squirms and laughs involuntarily increased, but Klee had already moved back to a safer distance, laughing at his dramatic reactions. He’s so silly!
“Hehehe! What did he say?” Klee asked in a playful tone.
“Oh, nothing. Don’t worry about it.” Kaeya replied, casually murdering the poor oni below him. It was no use though. Klee knew exactly what Itto had said and found it hilarious.
“STAHAHAHAHAP!! I’M SOHOHORREHEHEHEE!! Plehehehehehehease!!” Itto pleaded, curling up and laughing loudly as Kaeya kept tickling him mercilessly.
“Hmm… I dunno. Klee, what do you think?” Kaeya asked, easing up on the tickles to a more gentle and playful one to keep him giggling.
“Don’t be mean to him, Kaeya! He said he’s sorry. That means he’s friendly!” Klee said, moving closer to the two of them to pat Itto on the head.
“Whah..?” He seemed confused, covering his ribs with his arms to make Kaeya go away.
“Ah, I suppose you’re right. My apologies.” Kaeya said, chuckling as he released and stopped tickling Itto.
“Ehehe..! You meanie…” Itto said with a playful tone and smile, making Kaeya chuckle.
“This is fun! Let’s play more! Klee wants to be the tickle monster now! Hehehe!” Klee exclaimed, giggling at their banter.
“Oh dear. I suppose we’d better escape then, right?” Kaeya suggested.
“Ah, well… she never said I couldn’t also be a tickle monster, sooo…” Itto replied with a menacing grin.
“Ah…”
Oh dear, someone’s in trouble.
“Hehe… ready, Klee?”
“Hehehe! Ready! Raaawr!”
“Ah- ahahahahahaha!”
Needless to say, the knight fell victom to their “vicious” attacks as the two sillies tickled him playfully. It didn’t last too long though, since neither party wanted the other to suffer. As the day went on, the three kept playing games together until it was time to head back to Mondstadt. They had a real fun time together that day, becoming best friends forever!
55 notes · View notes
enamation · 1 year
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character (s) ♡ tsukasa tenma , emu otori
type ♡ headcannons
warnings ♡ sh , relapsing , blade mention , implies of su!c!dal thoughts , directly states that tsukasa has known about this beforehand
a/n ♡ intended lowercase . can be read / interpreted as platonic, romanic, however you'd like !! i hope all of you are safe and doing well !! if you ever have these thoughts , if youre comfortable , reach out to someone ❀ i hope this was okay !
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tsukasa tenma . . . 天馬司
this wasnt the first time tsukasa has seen your scars .
though hes loud , he can tell when the people close to him are hurt .
but recently , the days have gotten so much harder for you , and though you regretted it , you ended up breaking your sh-free streak .
you felt horrible watching the blade pierce your skin , but the sound of the door opening behind you did nothing to ease you .
" [name]? where did you go? "
you hastily tried to cover your arm , but your position and horrified expression had given you away quickly .
tsukasa stared at you for a moment with a disappointed expression .
he wasnt disappointed in you , but disappointed you felt you needed to do this to yourself .
he said nothing as he left the room for a moment , walking back in with a first aid kit as he kneeled down to your level .
he uncovered your hand / sleeve ( or whatever you used to attempt to hide the marks )
he whispered apologies as he heard your quiet hisses in response to the alcohol wipes as he cleaned your scars .
as he continued and finished bandaging you up , he grabbed a pack of markers on the dresser , he drew small stars , along with smiley faces and flowers .
when he was done , he smiled up at you softly .
" whenever you think about disappearing , or feel the need to do this again , ill be here to help you through it . "
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emu otori . . . 鳳えむ
recently , emu had felt . . off .
not about herself , though .
she felt off about you .
she could feel your smiles werent genuine anymore .
though she was nervous , she eventually had to confront you about it , only dismissing her with an ' im fine ' .
but during practice, she had caught a glimpse of your arm under your long sleeves when you moved your hand to perform a move .
after practice , she pulled you aside asap .
" [name]-..! so.. uhm. during practice, i saw something on your arm right about here. "
she tapped on your wrist , and your heart fell to your stomach as emu's eyes were locked on you .
" please.. i dont know what compelled you to do this but.. let me help you! "
she became determined , walking with you home as she gave you a small lecture , asking you to come to her whenever you feel the need to do this again as she placed pink bandaids over each scar .
she rested her cheek on your wrist for a moment , smiling at you before grabbing your hands and making you say wandahoi , not stopping until she saw you smile and giggle .
she pampered you for the rest of the day with smiles and ice cream .
" wandahoi ! dont worry , [name] . im not going anywhere anytime soon ! im here for you . "
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blue-moonjelly · 10 months
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Listen closely and stay Silent
MINORS DNI
Satan x nonbinary MC (obedience, sub/dom, master/slave, kinda public stuffs)
Authors note: Yeah so I kinda made this on a whim, um, just let me know if you want a part two cause this was already getting long enough as is, but if yall want it enough I'll gladly make a part 2, okay that's it, ENJOY)
“MC” Satan’s voice hummed as he nuzzled his warm cheek against your head, his hands stirring atop your lap as you somehow seemed to curl further into the grasp of him, “you’re so warm” he continued to speak in a hazed tone as he continued to engulf you in his grasp. 
You could only giggle and sigh at his words as you continued to snuggle up with him on the couch under the blanket that retained your shared body heat.
“Hey don’t distract MC” Levi was quick to argue as he focussed on the game you both were currently in the middle of, “you promised that you wouldn't distract them from completing this level with me if I let you stay, so I repeat, do NOT make us lose our progress Satan”.
And while normally Satan would be quick to react to Levi’s half-baked threat and show him what a true threat was, your presence had him under such a trance of serenity that he couldn’t bear to get up from his spot and disturb you both. So he simply muffled a response he had no intention of keeping and continued to settle his head in the crook of your neck, his lips brushing your skin ever so softly that it could have simply been interpreted as a happy accident. 
Though you knew Satan better than to believe that excuse of innocence. 
“Hey Levi,” you said while continuing to click your fingers along the buttons of the controller you held, “I think the controller is starting to bug out a little bit,” you feigned while purposefully clicking the wrong buttons, “it won’t let me follow you into the next chamber.”
“No, no, no” Levi quickly paused the game on his end and ran to his room, you assumed to retrieve some sort of solution to the ‘broken controller’.
“That’s odd,” Satan said while fidgetting with the controller, “It’s working just fine for me right now”
You softly placed two fingers under the demon's chin and turned his gaze to yours, his lips mere inches from your own and already trembling at what you would possibly be doing with them next, “Satan, be quiet, not a sound can come out of you until I say so” you ordered with a soft tone of voice, a clear contradiction to the words that spilled from your lips. 
The order however seemed to be effective, though admittedly you couldn’t quite tell if it was because you were his master or if he was simply pathetic enough to not crave putting up a much of a fight. And while you wished to see right now just how obedient of a pup he could truly be, Levi’s steps and quickly sounded as he breathed heavily and entered the room with a new controller in his grasp, “I- I got the other one” he said between labored breaths as he hunched his body over and held out the controller. 
“Oh, thanks Levi,” you said in a cheery tone, “but I actually was hoping I could get a little break, my eyes are hurting from staring at the screen for too long, do you think Satan could play in my place,” you asked, using a tone of voice and pleading eyes that you knew Levi just couldn’t say no to.
Levi was more than reluctant to the suggestion of adding his brother to the game, but he couldn’t help but melt into your smile and begrudgingly handed Satan the new remote, “you do still know how to play right” he asked while sitting back down on another couch. 
Satan nodded to his brother, and though you could tell Levi questioned his lack of verbal response, you quickly interjected from any further questions being asked by starting the game back up.
A few minutes passed of calm gameplay, Levi was still leading the team perfectly, and Satan was actually doing quite well as an added fighter to the quest. While he wasn’t quite the gamer that Levi was, no one could deny that he was doing a pretty great job at keeping up with the pace. 
“You’re doing so well Satan” you carefully whispered into his left ear as you hooked your fingers along the waistband of his sweatpants, the soft comfy ones you had just bought him last week and adored to see him in, “keep playing pup” you continued to coo into his hear as you ever so slightly scratched at his lower abdomen with your sharp fingernails, the fresh manicure he had just bought you already being put to perfect use. 
Suddenly the controller that sat in his hands began to buzz violently and like clockwork, “SATAN NO” Levi suddenly screamed in agonizing pain, “you need to focus” he continued to yell while fixing his error in the gameplay before he went back to violently playing and rushing his focus to the screen. 
Your lips only curled into a devious smile as you fully snuggled into the warmth of the blanket that you and Satan shared, your hands once again coming to grasp at his waistband and tug ever so gently onto it as you traced a single finger onto his growing erection. “Make sure you’re paying attention pup, Levi will know something’s up if you don’t play” you cooed in his ear while placing a soft kiss on his cheek, “assist him while I take care of you”
Satan could only silently oblige, simply nodding his answer as he gripped at his controller.
You couldn’t help but adore your demon in this state, the demon of wrath a mere puddle in your palm, a higher being whose powers crumbled before your words and actions. Something as simple as a lick to his neck was enough to cause shivers down his back, a little scratch from your manicure could cause his hips to involuntarily buck into your grasp, and just one pull of his waistband could allow his hard erection to spring free and already begin to drip onto your hands. 
“You’re so obedient, albeit a little eager, but you’re listening so carefully” you continued to whisper, releasing a breath of hot air into his ear and using your free hand to tug at his hair, while the other continued to stroke him ever so slowly, enjoying the way he tried so hard to buck into your hands at a faster speed than you were willing to give. 
The sweat on his forehead continued to build up, and the corners of his mouth twitched while he tried so hard to focus on the game and not tip off Levi on what could possibly be happening under this blanket just a mere few feet away from him. But the feelings you were curating just for him were insane, and it wasn’t just the stroking of his cock that drove him to near growls, it was the way you put careful attention to detail in each of his senses. You knew exactly how to put each of his five senses into overdrive, in ways that he hadn’t ever thought to be possible, and yet you somehow discovered and did it all so effortlessly. 
“Satan”
Your whisper of a moan echoed so deeply into his mind that thoughts were no longer coherent, there was only one singular thought that shone brightly into his mind, and that was the image of the endless things you could do to him in privacy. The desire rang so deeply in his brain that without a second thought, he quickly pulled himself out of your grip, pulled his pants back up, tossed the controller to the side, pulled the blanket away from the both of you and carried you into his arms away from the room.
“SATAN WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU” Levi yelled from the top of his lungs while he tried to fight off the sudden swarm of enemies that were coming at him in the game, however as you were being carried away and looked at the screen from over Satan’s shoulder you could see it was to no avail as the words ‘loser’ painted the screen “NOOOOOOOO—”
Levi’s scream echoed through the house and was only muffled once Satan tossed you onto his bed and closed the door, quickly pulling off his shirt and tossing it to the side as he swooped down to your level and began to attack your neck in a flurry of kisses and bites.
And while tingles of pleasure ran across your body, you knew that your demon had disobeyed and for that, he needed to be punished. You lifted your hand and grabbed a full chunk of his hair into your grip and pulled it back hard, “Satan, what do you think you're doing,” he attempted to open his mouth to say something but quickly recalled through his efforts that you had banned him to use his words, “you’ve been a bad pup and bad pups need to be disciplined”.
His eyes were fogged with tears and overwhelming emotions, he swallowed hard as he got down and kneeled in front of you.
You thought it looked humorous, a demon kneeling before you as though you were the only God he could ever respect, especially when you both knew that you were, each word of yours rang like a hymn. His fingers twitched at his sides as the urge to touch your skin gnawed at him, but he stayed still, practically salivating at the mere thought of his endless desires.
“You’re such a beautiful demon, a statue of beauty” you spoke with authority, retaining your strong grip on his hair as you dipped down to his level and placed your free hand under his chin, caressing his jaw as the bottom of your foot gently stepped down on his erection, causing you to chuckle as he silently winced at the feeling of it, “It’s a shame I’ll have to break you down to ash”.
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mayisgoingnuts · 5 months
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Hi can I infodump about Roy and my interpretation w/ him when it comes to coping mechanism regards sexual abuse to you?
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Click here to allow me 👇 (long text)
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To be honest I don't think he'll leave the more ""stereotypical"" type of victim bubble since 1- He's not a big focus in the show and 2- It's quite complicated and I don't know if Sr Pelo and the team would go that deep, but I like to overanalyze things. With that being said:
It feels off for me when he's shown as easily affected whenever his uncle is mentioned. I personally don't see it as HIM.
It's vague and anyone can see it whatever they like, it's 100% fine, but Roy is just... stubborn and ignorant. Those are two of his biggest traits and it's impossible for it not to affect how he deals with that trauma; he already has to deal with arrogant parents (mostly mother), not being himself even if he wants to (what pretty much hurts his natural ego), so being aware that even ANOTHER member of your family took advantage of you in even worst ways is basically a shot straight to the head. He's fighting something already and he'll definitely be in denial with a second one, not to mention that if people actually began to act all "soft" after finding that out IT'D MAKE THINGS WORSE.
It's literally the same as going to someone who wants to be seen as superior and mock him by treating them like a baby. It'll just make him try harder and harder to be taken seriously, including trying to ignore the trauma more and more.
And to be honest, even if he told his parents he'd stay in denial. Carmen and Richard are questionable parents but they're not monsters like some people think they are, they'd offer help and ask him what they want and need to know, but it changes nothing on how they treated him before nor his personality will suddenly change. I also have a lot to talk about his relationship with his parents, but that's for another one if I feel like it.
Now coming back to the beginning, when I mention that he doesn't get triggered when his uncle is the topic, I see it like that because his mind couldn't properly see the uncle as an enemy. He knows that what happened is wrong and that he's an asshole, but I'm talking about something more personal. A poor example for the sensation itself: You eat in a restaurant, and weeks later you find out that the waiter spit in your food. Will you come back? No. Are you also full MAD at him? Also no. You got angry in the first moments, sometimes still do, but you didn't even saw anything wrong with your food back then. You recognized it, but your brain didn't.
Now, when it's the sexual abuse itself, it affects him way more mostly because it makes him feel stupid, paranoid and dare I say disgusted maybe. I admit, that part is mostly me projecting, but it still makes sense in a way. It's more of a internal change instead of an external one (are those the right words?), since the consequences isn't as obvious and explicit if you did recognized the scene as a trauma at the time. You may not be against physical touch, but you may struggle interacting nicely afraid that you'll mess up again. I hope I didn't messed up on that part, or any at all--
ALRIGHT, briefly, Roy don't want sympathy, but he needs empathy, just like his friends are doing. They know what Roy goes through and still won't let him do whatever he wants, don't try babysitting him nor desperately tries to search for help right away like that. He's focused on his parents and can't handle even more trauma right now, and if he does start to try helping himself it'll be when he's older and don't have as much ego as he does now.
Ty for reading and I am SO SO sorry if I said anything shitty, sexual abuse is a topic that I always had some sort of interest on (studying and talking about), so I tend to think about it a lot specially when a hyperfixation is included.
EDIT: Just wanted to add that Roy's anger issues are also a nice response to everything I just said (nice in a "it connects" way, not good), someone as low-tempered as himself wouldn't be able to handle with the pressure of "You need to vent" without "exploding", thinking that his abuse consequently made him weaker and less worth of respect; "That shit just makes everything worse, so it's easier if I just ignore it!"
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lietpolski · 1 year
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when you have the chance, could you do a mischaraterization analysis on iceland?
sure!! i think the difference between him and nor is that people are more aware of the liberties they're taking with his characterization, so, disclaimer: i don't care how you characterize him and i don't think i'm better for sticking to canon. but let's talk about canon iceland!!
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one thing that's a personal pet peeve is his age, and when he's portrayed as an adult. i've seen people saying that they don't even know if he's meant to be a teenager or not! but:
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he's meant to be 16-17, as hima has said! now, i think it's fine to take creative liberties with most characters' ages. however, with iceland it's such a core element of his personality that aging him up just,, entirely changes him as a character!
iceland is meant to be a teenager. no, not in the emo tumblr user who loves memes sense (that interpretation was 90% of iceland content in 2015 haha), but like a teenager who because of his age can be immature, and struggle with his emotions, connections to others, and a lot of insecurity. you can see some of that insecurity in his need to be seen as mature, but also his embarrassment over his accent & being hot-headed (another aspect of him that's underexplored! people forget that side of him!)
"According to Himaruya (in a Comic Birz interview), Iceland tends to feel uncomfortable with his thick accent and hard to understand language, opting to speak in English when he can. This was further instated when it was mentioned in his Volume 5 profile that he tries his best to hide his accent.[17]"
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but more specifically, i'd say that iceland's main internal struggle & driving force is his want to connect with and be close to others. but in response to him always been forgotten, being an afterthought, and falling behind, he's put up a front of indifference about it - "i don't care if people don't care about me"
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but here's the thing! although he tries to act uncaring and fine being alone, he loves his overbearing family :,) and values the connections they give him so much!! in my opinion, him disliking how the other nordics act is just a front (except when he's being babied, which is understandable haha) and i think this gets kinda lost in fanon. just look at these interactions! (image order is left to right)
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this one below makes me especially sad :,)
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the other nordics being what stops him from being lonely is huge when you consider iceland's origins:
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he was all alone, for years and years and years, with no one like himself to explain to him who he was, what he was, a little kid all alone and he was so lonely. that is, until his big brothers finally came over to his island to bring him home!
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so yes, iceland does care about his family and does want them close, and he's not as indifferent to everything as he wants to act. he's a character with some deeply rooted insecurities, and he feels the need to hide them
and some quick thoughts: i don't have a lot of obvious examples, but iceland is an old-fashioned person! he's not as in touch with the rest of the world, he wears grandpa sweaters and cravats, he has an old ass phone, he doesn't at all strike me as internet savvy and i don't like that characterization of him
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i've covered this in more detail with my denmark & norway rants, but he's super close to both of them, likes both of them, and sees both of them as brothers! in fact, he sees sweden & finland as brothers too!
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(+ that image i showed earlier saying that he looks up to sweden as an adult, and how he calls them all nicknames! dan, svi, fin, nor!)
one last thing about his relationships!! people seem to think that him and hong kong are an entirely fanon thing, when actually they have at least 2 manga chapters where they interact and seem to be friendly! here's one of them :)
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i hope you found this long rant interesting, he's one of my favourites!
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scorchieart · 5 months
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Double Deflection
Genre: Slice of Life, Comedy
Characters: Maron, White Horse, Licht Klein, Chevalier Michel
Wordcount: ~6400
Prompts: Blue: Loyalty, Yellow: Friendship
Summary: A late-night chat between horses and humans. Each has the potential to offer something, but gestures and facial expressions and mind reading aren't enough to tell when someone is asking for help.
A/N: My entry for the Wish Upon an Aide CC hosted by @lorei-writes and @wordycheeseblob. This story may borderline crack with its execution, but I hope it's an enjoyable read regardless.
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If you were to ask Maron what he most wanted in the entire world he might respond with an enthused neigh, throwing back his mane, and a clop clop from his front-right hoof. If Maron could speak, he could say it was to eat carrots fresh from harvest, or to race through the fields outside the palace with the other horses, or to snooze indoors on a rainy afternoon while his rider Licht sang him a lullaby. Or something along those lines. In truth, it is difficult to say. The intricacies of horse communication cannot be covered comprehensively through text alone—tail swishing and muzzle twitching can easily get lost in translation, you see—but an attempt will be made to relay the events of this particular evening from both the equine and human perspectives to most accurately depict the story from all participating views.
Now, as we were saying, Maron, much like yourself and I, often finds it difficult to express his desires when asked on the spot. Any manner of things could affect the answer, from the place to the weather to even the time of day. Indeed, a much simpler question to ask (man and horse) is what he dislikes the most. And in the palace stables on that muggy summer’s eve, Maron was confident he was experiencing the absolute most dislikable thing imaginable.
“By the way, the kitchens were out of carrots.” 
Licht ducked his head in time before Maron whipped his tail.
“There’s no use taking it out on me,” Licht said, straightening up and resuming brushing Maron’s flank. “Believe me, you do me a favor eating them. But I swear this time they were gone before I could get to them.”
Maron snorted once and rubbed at his muzzle in what one would believe to be a contradictory manner.
“I doubt it. You should’ve seen the way Yves’s eyes lit up when he read about that new carrot cake recipe from Jade. He ordered double the monthly stock of carrots. And Leon approved it without even batting an eye.” At this, Licht covered his mouth and let out a small groan that on the surface appeared as though he was repressing a gag. Maron wiggled his nose in circular motions in response, which I am told is the horse-equivalent of scoffing and rolling one’s eyes.
“Don’t give me that. I said I’m fine,” said Licht, but both he and Maron knew he wasn’t. 
It is at this point I must confess that while I myself am not proficient at human-horse translations, my ineptitude is not a universal ailment. If you were so far unaware, there exist in our world a gifted few interspecial interpreters across the ages. Perhaps you have seen a dog warmly protecting a flock of chicks while the hen takes a bath? Or maybe you witnessed a squirrel rushing to call a goose to save a kitten from drowning in a lake? Sometimes this communication is as implicitly universal as a mother cares for her young, while in more curious cases gesture and sound bind common souls together. On exceedingly rare occasions, such a bond can manifest from one source to multiple different species with zero previous contact, as is the case with the Eighth Prince of Rhodolite. But just as special can be the connection built upon years of collaboration and struggle and trust, and Licht and Maron checked all these boxes multiple times over. Why, when Licht wraps the reins twice around his hands, Maron understands to hurry home because Yves is baking something special. And when Maron bonks his jaw against Licht’s head, Licht knows he’s being chastised. And whenever Licht says “I’m fine,” Maron learned it always to be a lie.
“Really, I am,” insisted Licht. “Let’s go for a ride in the morning. You’ll see.”
Not in the mood for an argument (they always ended up with them going in circles), Maron turned to look out the window and the two resumed their brushing routine without communication. The dewy night air hung thick and silent around them, and several times more Licht had to cover his mouth and cough as he worked. Maron’s ears twitched at the sound, but he never commented further. 
Just allergies, Licht told himself. Horse doesn’t know what he’s thinking.
And the night would have continued on unyieldingly so, as it always did when they disagreed in private, were it not for an unexpected development. The hairs on their limbs shot straight up as a cold, prickly sensation overtook the summer warmth, and Licht and Maron spun their heads towards each other in unison. Someone was entering the stables. 
Stubbornness forgotten, Maron slowly lifted his head and peered over the high walls. His stall was located in the back corner of the stable, but even through the darkness he could make out the tall cloaked figure leading a horse by hand through the entryway. 
Licht tapped his knuckles against Maron’s neck. What do you see?
Maron raised a hoof up and down twice. One human and one horse. Both look male.
Got it. Stay low. Licht quietly reached for the sword he lay on the ground beside Maron’s grooming tools. A prince wouldn’t be so foolish as to wander the palace unarmed, and Licht knew better than most how easy it was to sneak past the grounds undetected through the stables.
Be careful. Maron gently rubbed his muzzle against Licht’s back and ducked low behind the wall. What was meant to be encouragement consequently had the opposite effect on Licht. Maron, like all who lived at the palace, knew of his rider’s unparalleled mastery of the sword. It is said that his skills were only rivaled by two, but Prince Leon was presently knocked out on his couch after a full day tidying up the faction office, and to even consider Prince Chevalier to sneak around at night like some common hoodlum was simply unthinkable. So Maron’s warning made Licht grip his sword more forcefully as he took a defensive stance by the door. 
What need would a talented fighter have to visit the stables at this hour? Licht pondered the question as the foot-and-hoofsteps steadily approached their stall. Was it a spy fleeing into the night to relay royal secrets back to his master? A horse appraiser here to kidnap (horsenap) a prized palace stallion to sell off for exuberant riches? An enemy of the royal family who knew the swordsman Sixth Prince was an equine enthusiast and would therefore hesitate to fight back with a defenseless horse on the battlefield?
The truth, as I am sure you have already deduced, was none of the above. Unfortunately, the only living thing in the vicinity that could steer Licht’s thoughts away from the bizarre was currently pondering whether he could fight with a flat brush between his teeth if things became too dicey. And with the intruders now only a couple of stalls away, Licht did not have the agency to think rationally and burst out from his stall ready to swing.
What followed was a short, anticlimactic confrontation that I am sure Licht would prefer never to see the light of day. Unfortunately for him, Maron found the whole affair rather amusing, so I shall provide an abridged account.
No sooner than Licht exited the stall did an overwhelming cough threaten to overtake him. Midway through winding his arm for an attack, he had few options to steady himself from the conflicting forces of his limbs propelling him forward and his lungs pushing him back, and in the heat of the moment he elected to toss his sword upward into the air and simultaneously tackle the mystery man. He had hoped the shock of it all would stun his opponent long enough for him to recover and strike again, but this plan came to an early stop when his midsection was caught by a pair of taut arms and he found himself flipped, lifted, and staring upward into the displeased face of Prince Chevalier.
If you have ever been caught by your elders for sneaking out of your room past your bedtime, you would understand only a fraction of the dread coursing through Licht’s nerves in that moment. Aside from the obvious fact that he ambushed (with the intent to at the very least incapacitate) the Second Prince of Rhodolite, Licht was physically in a state he would best describe as Yves’s Fashion Nightmare™. His eyes were redder and less alert than usual, his frown curved down farther than it had in years, and his typical restless bedhead stuck out at wild angles, not in the least bit aided by the fact that he was currently suspended upside down. But oh, the worst offense of it all was his wardrobe! When the coughing fits had extinguished any hope of getting sleep, Licht slipped into the muckiest boots in his closet, tossed on a tattered old coat from his teenage years, picked up his sword, and headed straight for the stables. He could only pray Chevalier was too distracted by his annoyance to notice the wrinkly, hay-infested, cough-stained mess of his nightclothes. 
Chevalier’s stern gaze followed Licht’s to his outfit. Whoops… I forgot to mention Chevalier could read minds as well as narrations. 
“Please put me down,” said Licht, his voice barely masking: and spare me some dignity. Behind them Maron let out a sound almost like a chuckle, and Licht shot him a warning look he was sure lost all credibility of appearing threatening.
“What purpose have you here at this hour?” asked Chevalier, still holding on. It took a great deal of fortitude for Licht to not give in to his embarrassment and wiggle his way out of Chevalier’s clutches like a worm, but in the end he swallowed his discomfort and strained his neck to look back up.
“I could ask you the same,” Licht replied, and instantly regretted it. The blood flow to his brain must already be making him hysterical. Is that how blood worked? How long was he upside down for, anyway? 
Chevalier’s expression twisted into a deeper frown that easily topped any of Licht’s personal records. “Employ deflection at your own risk, mime,” he warned. But just as Licht was calculating the combined punishment for assaulting and backtalking Chevalier, a sudden gallop echoed across the hall, the pressure on his stomach lifted, and Licht fell head-first onto the mucky stable floor. 
Once the pain and shame faded enough, Licht opened his eyes and sat up expecting to find Chevalier towering over him. When all he saw was Maron merrily rolling on the floor whinnying, apparently now fully recovered from the intruder fiasco, Licht wondered if it was all just a sick-induced hallucination. The figures cloaked in night, the galloping, this headache; surely it was all in his mind and he merely tripped and fell from exhaustion. Bothered and bitter, he buttoned his coat and rubbed his bruising head, wondering if anything like this had happened recently, when Chevalier appeared once more in the entryway patiently guiding White Horse back inside.
“You frightened him,” he said when they reached the back stall. 
“Me?” said Licht, forgetting his headache and rising to face the pair. In all the years he’d known him, White Horse proved a stallion who did not know fear. Chevalier selected him to be his trusted steed from among all the foals—even passing up baby Maron and his adorable wobbly knees—because he was the first to fully stand on his own and the quickest to wean off from his mother. As the years passed, he only grew more magnificent and intimidating among his peers, heading fleets into battle like the gleaming helmet of the army. White Horse admitting he was afraid seemed the equivalent of Chevalier admitting defeat.
“Indeed. He was shocked to see you bursting out of the stall like a lunatic,” said Chevalier.
Licht felt his eye twitch, and not from the returning pain. “He’s a war horse. He’s seen far worse than that,” he said.
“True,” said Chevalier, “but you have never appeared before him looking so disheveled.”
A knot swelled in Licht’s throat. Was Maron right? Surely he hadn’t neglected his condition so carelessly that he let his appearance grow abominable enough to scare White Horse of all creatures. Yves, perhaps, but that was exactly why Licht had been avoiding his brother like the plague. 
“You do have some manner of plague,” said Chevalier.
“It’s only allergies,” Licht countered, muffling a cough into his arm.
“Strange how the clown never developed the same.” 
It was only then that Licht noticed Chevalier carried a bag across his shoulders when he pulled something out and tossed it. Licht caught it and looked it over; it was a newly washed towel, like the type soldiers used during training, but the stench it gave off was far more repugnant than even a shirtless, sweaty Prince Jin in the height of July. An earthy smell that lay buried deep in the back of his mind, but Chevalier was not intent on giving him the time to dig it out.
“Clean your face, it is offensive,” he said, then moved past Licht to look in the stall. Maron instantly sobered and stood. “And you, get out.”
“What for?” Licht asked. He held his breath and quickly wiped the sweat and grime from his face.
“This is White Horse’s preferred stall.”
“We were here first.”
“And I asked you first what you were doing here, and you have yet to answer me,” snapped Chevalier. “Our needs supersede yours unless you can prove otherwise.”
Licht and Maron each glared back at him, simmering in place. It wasn’t as though they didn’t have their reasons for choosing that particular stall; Maron enjoyed the bit of extra leg room the corner stall provided while Licht favored it for its distance from the entrance and ease to hide away in. But the other corner stall on the opposite side of the hall provided the same advantages, and Licht and Maron wondered why Chevalier and White Horse couldn’t simply occupy that one.
Normally, Licht would either frame his suggestion of the other corner this way or simply agree to move out to avoid confrontation, but he was ill-feeling courteous tonight after Chevalier banged his head like a boiled egg.
“What’s so special about this one that the others don’t have?” Licht asked. If by now you’re thinking Licht was playing his luck talking back yet again to Chevalier, you’d be right. But ever the megalomaniac (as Prince Clavis would insist), Chevalier acknowledged an informative rebuttal to his authority as a worthy challenge and allowed the conversation to continue for just a little longer.
Chevalier rolled his eyes at this insinuation. “The window,” he responded.
“They all have windows,” said Licht.
“This one provides the best view of town,” said Chevalier, then he huffed. “I grow tired of this chatter. Vacate yourselves before I do it myself.”
Licht was not satisfied, but he knew better than to argue with Chevalier once a discussion was deemed concluded. Though Maron would take some more convincing to leave. They were still midway through grooming and all the tools were laid out and ready after all, but to Licht’s surprise the horse walked out without any prompting, passed Chevalier, and lowered his head to sniff the towel in Licht’s hand.
“Don’t lick that, Maron. It’s dirty,” said Licht, pushing him away. But Maron pressed his nose to the towel and began chewing at its edge. “It’s not food. Stop!” Licht grabbed the other end and pulled and pulled, but Maron’s chomp was firm and refusing to yield.
“Haybrain,” Licht said, tugging harder. “You’d think you were munching on a bunch of—” And then the pain in his head nearly completely vanished as a wave of realization surged through him. Sometimes it takes a little longer for Maron’s messages to reach Licht.
Still maintaining his grip, Licht steadied his stance and asked, “Prince Chevalier, what else is in your bag?”
Chevalier, who had been leading White Horse into the newly emptied stall and therefore took little notice of the tug-of-war behind him, curled his hand around the straps on his shoulder at the sound of his name. “Has your condition also turned you excessively chatty?” he said. “Perhaps some rest will restore your quietude, mime.”
Licht and Maron exchanged a glance across the towel and nodded. “Employ deflection at your own risk. Now!” yelled Licht, and the two charged towards the stall. 
If you have been at all paying attention to this unwieldy tale, you may recall the last time Licht attempted to ambush Chevalier earned him an unsavory bump on both his pride and his forehead, and you are probably wondering what on Earth would lead him to believe a second attempt would fare any better. You may also remember in that little skirmish Licht threw his sword up in the air and have probably been questioning this story for the past few pages about where it landed. Rest assured, these inconsistencies shall be answered in due course. But first we must discuss strategy.
In addition to being a gifted swordsman, Licht was also a budding tactician. And while his brothers agreed his open-fighting battleplans leaned excessively self-destructive, no one could deny Licht’s acumen for sneak attacks. Even Maron trusted Licht on this front, which is why he made sure to match Licht’s speed in their charge even though his trajectory would knock him into White Horse. As soon as Chevalier noticed their approach, he whipped around, grabbed the towel with both hands, and ripped the fabric in midair. 
The force of the rip wobbled the two off guard, and while Maron quickly managed to steady himself to a reasonable halt before colliding with White Horse, Licht surged forward and knocked his side into a pillar separating two adjacent stalls. But before his fall, he made sure to wrap his remaining half of the towel around Chevalier’s wrist and drag the man down with him. The impact of the hit shook the entire building, causing a certain misplaced sword that was previously precariously balanced just above the princes to slip out of its place and fall. Chevalier, still stuck in the hand trap, roughly shoved his and Licht’s bodies out of the line of descent and replaced them with his bag. The bag cushioned the fall and prevented the sword from ricocheting into anyone, but not without sacrificing itself to the cause as the blade cleanly cut through the linen and deposited the contents within. Dozens of bright orange carrots, of different sizes and thicknesses by the bushel, spilled out from the tear and rolled across the stable floor.
This narrator now takes this chance to inform the audience (and Prince Chevalier) that Licht is also very skilled in deflection. And in humility.
“I’ll keep my mouth shut if you do,” Licht offered once the two managed to pry as many carrots as they could away from the hungry horses’ mouths. They piled the saved carrots into the bag and lifted it together to keep them out of the horses’ reach and from spilling again.
“The information I have on your condition is far more significant than a simple carrot heist,” said Chevalier, unperturbed by the turn of events.
It was the truth. Licht nabbed carrots from the kitchens loads of times before, and the response from the cooks never extended beyond an angry rant to the domestic faction office about coordinating supply every few months or so. Jin always claimed it was probably a herd of hungry rabbits sneaking into the kitchens at night, and that was enough to placate the masses. Missing carrots didn’t spell the end of the world, after all. Surely they would treat this incident in the same way. On the other hand, Chevalier still lorded Licht’s illness over his head like a carrot on a stick (which in Licht’s circumstance meant the exact opposite of that saying). Any moment now he could decide to leave the stables and tell Sariel about Licht’s total lack of self-care. Or worse, he could tell Yves.
No, Licht had to gain some leverage over Chevalier right there and now. If only he could figure out why he was there in the first place.
The bag seemed to increase in weight with each passing moment, and the orange poking out from the rip goaded Licht like a heckler in the audience. He shut his eyes and breathed through his mouth to stave them off. Just their presence muddied his mind—why did there have to be so many carrots? 
The best he could do for now was to keep up the deflecting. Even if that meant he had to keep up the talking.
“If White Horse eats this many, he’ll have an upset stomach in the morning,” he said.
“They were not all meant for him, obviously,” Chevalier explained. “When dealing with animals, extra precautions must be taken to guarantee a successful transaction should any anomalies arise.”
Licht pondered over those words. Couldn’t Chevalier ever say what he meant directly? (“No,” said Chevalier.)
“You’re saying you needed hush money—er, food in case other horses saw you two? Were you expecting to wake up the entire herd?” asked Licht.
“Precautions taken for the worst-case scenario naturally account for any hypothetical.”
“Except for my being here, apparently.”
“No, I had accounted for this as well. Though I had expected you to have fled from the vicinity of all these carrots by now.”
The tear gaped slightly as Licht’s hold tensed. Did Chevalier view him as a child who still couldn’t look foods he disliked straight on? Was Chevalier basing his reactions on tests he performed on Nokto, he wondered? He recalled a time years ago when Nokto returned from a diplomatic trip to Benitoite complaining about how their boasting of their recent super successful carrot harvest forced him to cut the trip short. It was the first time in ages Licht felt so strong an urge to console his twin when he heard the news, but what if Chevalier had a different reaction? Something seemed off about it all.
He decided to test his theory. “You’d need a boat-load of carrots to do that. And strand me on a deserted island first,” he said.
“I shall keep that in mind for the next order and charter a vessel from the Jangler,” said Chevalier.
“Nokto already asked us to halt carrot orders to the palace once. Leon told him to submit a lengthy request form with evidence and justifications and we still voted against it, three-to-one. Unfortunately.”
“My word supersedes the clown’s, as well as it does yours.”
“I wasn’t implying otherwise. Only that palace supply orders are under our faction’s scope, not yours,” said Licht. This time the rip tore larger from Chevalier’s end.
Licht really was only speaking fluff at first, but now he felt he was on the verge of uncovering something scandalous.
“In fact, food orders are specifically handled by one of us four princes to prevent showing favoritism to any one noble or grower. And we keep the records of all orders locked in our office,” he continued. “Strange how you were able to run your worst-case scenario calculations when supply was different this month. Was it just a happy coincidence?”
“Enough stalling,” said Chevalier. “Speak your mind directly.”
“Prince Chevalier.” Licht paused and inhaled. “Have you been illicitly influencing the domestic faction’s operations behind the scenes?”
The stables went eerily quiet. Even the horses, who stopped following the conversation ever since the carrots came into view, could tell an intense weight had dropped, and this time Chevalier was on the receiving end. Maron silently cheered for Licht, while White Horse ground his teeth impatiently.
Slowly, purposefully, Chevalier’s mouth widened to a grin. One that simultaneously filled Licht with a sense of victory and unease. “You speak it as though it was a laborious effort, when in truth it does not take much to influence you buffoons. A cursory inspection of your office is proof enough of your dullwittedness, which made it exceedingly simple to send the clown over on his futile carrot prohibition request to peer pressure your lot into establishing a cleaning routine. Even simpler was it to determine which days were Black’s, considering he wakes with an obvious imprint of his couch’s pillow embroidery plastered across his cheek. But simplest of all was slipping the latest edition of Jade’s Renowned Recipes onto the showoff’s desk the morning after one of Black’s cleaning days.” 
The only thing preventing Licht from completely tearing up the bag was the understanding that it would drown him in those awful carrots, and that would only make him more upset. “There’s no way Nokto would agree to that,” he said to release some of the anger. “Your plan ended up with double the order of carrots in the end.”
“I never deigned to have co-conspirators,” said Chevalier.
It didn’t make sense, and yet with Chevalier it could. But it took such precise managing and calculating of everyone’s opinions and behaviors to have carried out so perfectly.
“But… but you still miscalculated,” Licht said in a small voice. “With me.”
“An unfortunate side effect of your seclusiveness. Lack of data points skews the probability of success. But this defect is of little consequence in the grand scheme of things,” said Chevalier, dropping his face to a frown once more. “Very well, we shall agree to never speak of this encounter beyond this night.”
A victory? Against Chevalier? On a mental battlefield? By all accounts, Licht should have been thrilled, even if this arrangement meant no one would ever know of his triumph. But a hollowness still dominated inside, different from the betrayal he felt from Chevalier’s reveal. He looked to Maron for support, and even his horsey smile wasn’t enough to satisfy his troubled thoughts.
“You still admitted political subterfuge, even if this is an admittedly minor instance of it. How can we guarantee you haven’t done it in the past, or won’t do it again?” asked Licht.
“You have my word that I have not nor shall I ever plot such an endeavor again without the knowledge and approval of the eight,” said Chevalier.
That should have sufficed, but Licht shook his head. “I’ll need some collateral to prove your sincerity.”
Chevalier narrowed his eyes. “What do you require?”
“Half your remaining carrots,” he said. “And tell me why you did it.” Maron perked up and licked his lips greedily while White Horse snorted and rushed beside Chevalier.
“White Horse says one-fourth and no more,” said Chevalier.
“Half,” Licht demanded. “Yves never would have put the double order if he wasn’t so intent on baking the carrot cake for me.”
Chevalier and White Horse stared intently at each other. You may have guessed correctly that these two make up another human-horse bonded pair, but unlike Licht and Maron, they mainly communicated through staring contests to determine the other’s thoughts and feelings. To the onlooker it is a curious sight, and Licht and Maron watched the pair mentally debate like statues for several awkward minutes until at last they broke apart.
“Agreed. But tonight you must vacate this stall and share your grooming tools,” said Chevalier.
“Fine, you can use them after we finish our routine,” said Licht, and the princes set out dividing the carrots equally among themselves and leading their respective horses into opposite stalls. Maron happily gobbled up his share before Licht could finish setting his tools up again in the new stall, and White Horse solemnly poked his head out of the window as Chevalier passed him carrots at regular intervals. A complacent tranquility settled in as the sounds of horse munching, hair brushing, and the late night summer breeze whooshed through the stables, calming its occupants and warming their hearts. While these two princes were inclined to introversion, the silent acknowledgement of horse care they shared bonded them on that night closer than they ever knew in the past.
Once the grooming session was completed, Maron shook his head satisfied as Licht patted his neck. Licht packed his tools neatly in their kit and crossed over to the other stall, ready to hear Chevalier’s story, when he saw his brother holding two long strips of ribbon, one bright yellow and the other bright blue, up to White Horse’s pearly mane.
“They’d both look nice on him,” Licht said as he entered the stall. He extracted a fine brush from the kit and began working out the knots in White Horse’s mane.
Chevalier watched intently, holding the ribbons closer so Licht could see. “But which will look nicer?” he asked.
Another ripple of warmth began to swell in Licht's cheeks, but a breeze hadn’t blown in a while. Did Chevalier actually value Licht’s opinion?
“Well, maybe the blue will look better in the daytime and the yellow at night,” Licht replied. Chevalier hmmed and took the ribbons back, tying them into different intricately shaped bows on his fingers. No doubt Yves would find them charming, and a small smile involuntarily crept onto Licht’s face as he pictured the three of them dressing up White Horse in tiny bows. 
What a ridiculous idea! As if Chevalier would ever agree to that! But still, even though Licht always spent time in the stables alone, the thought of inviting others once in a while wasn’t too indigestible. Is this what it was like to share hobbies? Could this be how Licht could cure his—as Chevalier called it—seclusiveness? They could have been friends all along?
The moment seemed right. He decided to shoot his shot. “Yves has lots more ribbon. And lace, too. Maybe we could all make bows for Maron and White Horse someday?”
“Perhaps,” said Chevalier, all ten of his fingers now bound by bows. “Tell me, do you think White Horse is attractive?”
Or maybe they were never meant to be friends after all.
“Er—” Licht stumbled. “He’s a healthy and well-kept stallion. I could ask for nothing more from him.”
“Not to you. A female.”
“Uhm… You could probably ask Nokto to grab a maid’s opinion?”
Chevalier clenched his fists, crushing the tiny bows. “A female horse,” he hissed.
“Oh!” Licht accidentally pulled too hard on a knot. White Horse turned to him and snorted sharply, dousing his face in chewed-up carrot. Yes, that tranquil moment had definitely passed.
Licht quickly unbuttoned his coat and wiped his face with the hem of his shirt. The very next morning, that shirt would be burning in the back of his fireplace. 
“Is White Horse trying to impress a mare?” he asked in an attempt to salvage the conversation. 
“We only agreed I reveal my intention for the carrot theft,” said Chevalier.
“Political subterfuge,” Licht corrected.
“Shall I send you to dreamland instead?” said Chevalier.
“I’ll be sure to ask for the story in the morning then,” said Licht.
Chevalier leaned against the wall and began undoing the bows as he spoke. “Do not interrupt. It began on a trip west last fall. Clavis and I were inspecting numerous citadels along the border, and as luck would have it I received word that the newest volume of a series I was following was set to release the day before our scheduled return to the palace.”
Licht swapped his brush for a flat bristled one and started on White Horse’s neck as he listened. He recalled Chevalier’s trip very clearly. Clavis had made a point to leave behind a timed-trap in his absence. On the morning of the twins’ birthday, hundreds of colorful paper airplanes were released in the roundtable room, each bearing a handwritten message like: “Thinking of you from so far away!” and “Big brother will bring home a bigger gift, just you wait!” and “Say your prayers, Sariel!” Licht occasionally still felt the ghosts of those paper cuts stinging his skin.
Unfazed by Licht’s cringing expression, Chevalier continued. “Despite Clavis’s bemoaning protests, we managed to reach the final location of our tour and complete the inspection with time to spare, albeit at the sacrifice of several nights’ rest. Our fool of a brother was at his wit’s end, but aside from his sanity we arrived back in town with zero casualties. He agreed to retrieve the book before returning to the palace as an excuse to finally be out of my sight, so he broke off from our party as we rode up. And seeing as White Horse knows the way to the gates I saw no imminent danger requiring my remaining alert and allowed myself to rest my eyes.”
Licht tried to remember the exact day of their return and if anything remarkable occurred, but his mind kept coming up with blanks. (He wasn’t allowed to interrupt, but the narrator can. Chevalier said he fell asleep.)
Chevalier finished removing the yellow ribbon from his fingers and crumpled it in his fist. “While resting my eyes, I could still sense the passage of time, and after an appropriate amount of time until when I knew we should have reached the palace had passed I opened them again but found we were in an unfamiliar area I had never visited before. We were near the outskirts of town where the cattle graze. Seventeen houses in total, each unremarkable in size and structure, yet White Horse perched at the fence of the red brick house watching a jet black mare race across the yard. Never before had I seen him so fixated on one task, even when we are in battle. I called his name and pulled his reins but he completely ignored me. I was about alight from his back to admonish him when the woman of the household spotted us from her window, and she let out a piercing scream that would have woken the entire town had it been dark. It was enough to startle White Horse, at any rate. More than seeing you tonight.”
At this, Licht instantly remembered the day. Everyone at the palace heard the scream, and the subsequent chill emanating from Clavis’s smile when he suggested Licht join him to wait by the gates could only be bested by Chevalier’s cold stare. Never before nor since was Licht so grateful for it to be his turn to clean the domestic faction office than on that day. Maron remembered the day because it was the only time Chevalier returned wearing robes stained not in red, but brown. And Chevalier remembered the day because there did not yet exist enough scientific literature in Rhodolite on lobotomy.
Recounting is all well and good, but White Horse preferred matters tending to the future. And while he was used to his master and his soft-spoken brother’s tendencies towards silence, this silence stretching on in their conversation soon bored the stallion. When at last it became too much to bear, White Horse sucked in breath through his teeth, pressed his nose against Chevalier’s head, and released a mighty sneeze that nearly shook the princes off balance. From across the hall, Maron whinnied at White Horse in disapproval, and Licht quickly steadied himself then began patting the horse’s white neck. This served two purposes: calming White Horse’s fury, and giving Licht an excuse to turn away as Chevalier picked globules of horse mucus out of his hair.
It seemed acceptable for Licht to speak now. “So White Horse likes Verona?”
“Who?” Chevalier raked the last of the snot out with the blue ribbon and tossed it onto the remains of the ripped bag.
“The mare. That’s her name,” said Licht.
“Don’t be ridiculous, they have never once interacted for White Horse to develop any feelings of ‘liking’.”
“Fine. He fancies her.”
“Such a useless emotion. Enough of it to lose his head at the screams of her owner,” scoffed Chevalier.
“He’s alright though, isn’t he?” said Licht.
“Only because I had the sense to steady us in time,” said Chevalier. What he conveniently neglected to mention was how after steadying White Horse, the woman raced out of the house waving a broomstick in the air because she didn’t recognize the Second Prince and assumed he was there to horsenap Verona. Before Chevalier could diffuse the situation, White Horse jumped at her advance and fell backwards, landing both himself and his rider in a puddle of mud. Prince Clavis was the only person standing at the gates to witness their soiled return, and he keeps the memory fresh in his mind for days when he feels blue. But there was no reason for Licht to know about it, so Chevalier said, “I have upheld my end of the deal. Pass me a brush.”
“But you didn’t explain the carrots,” said Licht. 
“Do not ask for a story if you are too bleary-eyed to follow along,” said Chevalier. He swiped the brush out of Licht’s hand and began grooming White Horse’s other side. White Horse neighed softly and went back to staring longingly out of the window. 
Rays of false dawn shone from the horizon, layering the first brush stroke of saturation on town. Licht followed White Horse’s gaze out the window towards the pasty colors of the pasture in the distance, just as the signs of a red house came into view.
Perhaps it was the exhaustion truly catching up to him, but Licht didn’t notice Maron trotting up to him until he felt his warm muzzle pressed against the small of his back. Even without facing him, he knew what Maron wanted to say.
“Maron’s friends with Verona,” said Licht. “We visit the horses there every month for a stretch. We could introduce White Horse next time we go, if you want.”
Perhaps the exhaustion caught up to Chevalier as well, because the small part of him that planned to find Licht in the stables tonight tingled with vindication. “What do you require?” he asked.
“I don’t need anything,” said Licht.
“And I do not desire to remain in your debt. Name your price,” said Chevalier.
It is a curious state to find oneself able to demand anything from Prince Chevalier. I can think of several princes who would jump at the opportunity and ask from him all manner of favors. But Licht was a simple secluded sword master equine enthusiast who when asked what he wanted most in the world would probably reply with the most seemingly mundane thing. And yet, it would still make him smile.
“Help me get rid of this cough. That way I can help disrupt the carrot supply chain next time.”
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I once wrote a fic in the past when I thought Maron was a mare. If anyone else mistakenly thought he was a lady horse because of that fic, I take full responsibility, that's my bad.
With this fic I tried out a new narrative style. It was out of my comfort zone, but a fun experiment. If anyone has any constructive feedback about it (positive or negative, I want to learn) feel free to leave a comment or an ask. Did it engage you more in the story, did it slow it down, did it make you laugh, did it bore you... whatever you feel like sharing :) Otherwise, thanks for reading.
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