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bolognamayhem117 · 11 days ago

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WIP WHURSDAY

Thanks for tagging me @fumbling-flower ! Yeah I'm way late responding to this. Had unexpected stressors that kinda put a headstone over writing for a hot minute. I tag @monsterbrush and @ghostkingart because I can't remember who else writes ATM.

This isn't the usual fare on this blog, it's a little crack fic for some extended family of a bunch of D&D characters belonging to @monsterbrush and I. Arlo, Byron and Badulf are theirs, Nameless Child, Thulgethra (A Lich and Stryag), Lady In Dark Robes and Teroth (If he's mentioned) are mine.

My homebrew campaigns have their own eldritch horrors (Stryags) who originally hail from an immaterial plane. Horrific thought colossi that have to be hosted by a flesh form to exist in this plane and reproduce by combining consciousness and leaving one of the parents to host the new thought being in their… Brain. Thoughts. Consciousness. There's an entire process.

Anyway, it's not BG3 related. Sorry. Enjoy I guess?

Titled: Newborn

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The sound woke him with a quake of this entire awful body. The long, miserable groan which abruptly broke apart into sobs. He'd never heard it from so far away before.

Oh no, what happened? Why am I so far away?

Something had his legs. He kicked on reflex, and promptly startled at the blanket falling with a muffled, soft noise.

Why would that be there? Why would I be here?

He pushed himself upright, looking at what was under him. Cushions. A pillow with a damp spot in the middle. Badulf wakes up like this.

Did I…

A sharper sob rose above the others, and the boy half curled on the couch froze to listen.

I shouldn't have left.

The chill of the hardwood floor bit the soft soles of his feet, even through a borrowed pair of socks. He was cold, but didn't think to gather the blanket around his shoulders. He curled his hands under each elbow and crept toward the wall, where the floorboards creaked less. He began his way to Badulf, toward his convalescent quarters.

Damn that Byron man, luring him out with food, asking him too many questions. Making him nod “Yes” or shake his head “No”. Making him LOOK him in the eyes. He didn't like that. That Byron made him fucking miserable just to look at him, and he couldn't figure why besides the fact that he always made Badulf sad as a Bag Of Drowned Cats.

He missed Teroth without warning just as he reached the door. Teroth was always good at looking after them, although he was also “An insufferable prick stuffed up his own arse,” according to Badulf. Teroth said such weird things about bags. He pushed open the door.

Oh, it was so strange. Seeing him from outside.

I'm here. Thulgethra is gone. I can't tell if it hurts. Does it hurt?

Badulf remained on his side, face turned into the sheet as if to hide it, a pillow crushed in his grip, whole body shaking in an irregular rhythm. The tendon in his neck stuck out, pulled taut by the tight grimace which the boy only spied part of. Badulf didn't respond.

Badulf. I'm sorry. Your eyes… I'm sorry.

The boy’s eye and empty socket watered as he looked on, while Badulf still wept. Why? He stood in the middle of the room now, chest aching and face starting to feel full and wet.

He soon couldn't see, his world a watery blur narrated by the cries of the man he lived in and through for so long. To be miserable with Badulf was only natural.

The boy clenched his teeth at the pain in his throat and scrubbed his palms over his face to clear away the tears. Right, he had to talk. They weren't occupying the same mind anymore. The child's head felt huge and empty and he hated it. That realization only squeezed more mess to clean up from his eye and empty socket.

“EUUGH! What’re you doin’ in here?!”

The boy felt all of himself go rigid and hop a step back at the shout, wet eye popped open wide to assess the danger, even though the sound of Badulf's anger was all too familiar. Normal, even, if it was directed at him. He was safe inside, though, now not so much.

I came. Because you're crying. I came to help you, like I'm supposed to? Like I always do.

Badulf glared incredulously, unhinged, exposed teeth cooling in the air. The child wondered if he meant to attack. Teroth had, with some regret, once spoken of how he violently rejected his… Son. The child didn't like the flipping and flopping in his chest at the concept that it was now his turn.

Badulf's rage fell off him like a discarded coat. Confusion replaced his anger and- now sat up, he reached for the eye which had been replaced and the necrotic socket healed.

“What is… That's… The wrong eye.” Badulf grumbled, touching at the periphery of the eye, as if expecting pain the moment rough fingertips and gnarled fingernails touched it.

The boy had the explanation, and had remembered that he needed to speak in order to tell Badulf that- But how would he start? He didn't like the sound of his own voice either. How do you tell someone that you blinded them, then gave them your own eye? And how do you admit that you don't really understand how you did that?

For now, the child stepped closer. Badulf's panicked confusion called him forward.

Badulf had crumpled around his head on his elbow, bold enough to press his palm over the eye and exploring the scalp which had been affected by the black touch of Thulgethra as well, healed. Healthy. Normal.

He shook his head at Badulf, still unsure what to speak and afraid to make a sound.

Badulf jerked when he began to use the eye to look at his surroundings, back to the interloper who'd crept closer.

“What the fuck are you still doing in here?! And who in the hell are you?!”

Once more, the boy took a step back, this time toward the door. Just in case.

“Are you gonna answer me or are ya’ gonna keep standing there lookin’ like a dummy foal?!” Badulf roared, demanding an answer.

The boy swallowed hard and looked at the wall instead of- it was his own eye which looked back at him so angrily, wasn't it. He had no choice, he had to talk.

“I… don't know.”

“You don't know why you're still in here or you don't know who the hell you are?! And don't you dare say you don't know who you are!”

Well, that left nothing to say, didn't it? His sight warped under a layer of tears again. The boy swiped his palms up his face to clear the salted wetness away again, but now backed toward the door. He couldn't leave, but he couldn't be in here if Badulf didn't want him to be.

A moment of anger overwhelmed him, but the choking silence he couldn't overcome kept the outburst internal.

I didn't ask to BE here you asshole!.... And I don't have anywhere to GO. Don't you recognize me? Would you even want me here if you did?

He backed his way out and concealed himself on the other side of the wall. Then sat. Because where else was there to go? Nowhere, for now.

Badulf's reaction to the moment of realization, when the shared conciseness cracked and they became aware that they were separate entities: “How do I get rid of it?”.

It was unclear if that desire had ever changed. They figured out how to exist in his head at the same time, but Badulf's intention to find a way to excise his passenger -him: The Parasite- had been the reason to find Teregetra. If anyone would know how, it was him. After Teroth was killed, it was never brought up again.

Got what he needed, didn't he?

That left the horror of figuring out where to go now. By himself. Dragging the metaphorical umbilical cord behind him. He wasn't sure what he expected. To keep trying to get Badulf to care for himself? Maybe.

He had to leave. He didn't even have shoes.

I made these bodies. Maybe I can make clothes?

He looked at his hands, but they were just warping blurs under his wet face. The sound of men arguing somewhere in the maze of the Arkwright Estate brought the boy to attention, sat straight and neck craned to listen.

“I don't care what you do! Drug it! Remove it from the premises? Kill it! Just Shut. It. Up!”

“It? IT?! He is a child!”

“IT is a neonate thought colossus, squalling for a tit, after ATTACKING the tit. IT DOES NOT BELONG HERE. IT DOESN'T EVEN BELONG ON THIS PLANE. If you insist on sheltering IT then you must keep IT quiet! Or I'll quiet IT for you! Permanently!”

“You will do NO such thing, Arlo. Leave it. I'll sort it. Not a finger.” Byron sounded off like rolling thunder in the distance.

The boy covered his ears and balled himself up tightly. He was frightened, he felt sick, and hopelessly unable to do anything about it.

The floor under him shivered, thunk, thunk, thunk, harsher and more violently until. Something is getting closer. But it stopped, and that's when the child jerked with realization as his eyes snapped open. Big boots.

Far above those boots, the brown eyes which sadden him without explanation set in a severe glower. Lord Byron looked angry.

The boy averted his gaze and prepared himself to be accosted, moved somewhere, or told to do something. Nothing happened, he watched those boots step softly around him as Byron entered Badulf's convalescent room.

There was a sigh, but he couldn't tell if it was from a place of relief of aggravation until Byron spoke. “Badulf,”

Relief.

The child's ears were pulsing and his skin was cold under his layers. He didn't hear much more than a murmured word or two between his shivers until the voices rose.

Now the aggravation.

“One of your crotch goblins was in here.”

“You- does that look like mine?! He's yours… get up, get out of that bloody bed you dumb sonofa bitch!”

There were the sounds of a struggle, a thick palm striking flesh, and the boy began to haul himself to his feet to slink away. There was some innate awareness of his own fragility. Those men were both much bigger. Age as well as size had blessed strength upon them whereas this newly made body was soft, hard to control, and as vulnerable as a dummy foal just as Badulf had described at first look. He wouldn't survive accidentally becoming involved in whatever fight they were about to have.

A gargantuan hand seizing him under the right arm aborted his escape and forced the held breath from his mouth in a dry gasp.

“Turn around, boy!” Byron demanded, not in a shout but obedience still came with a flinch.

Next his jaw was captured and he was made to look at these men. Badulf was forced to lean close because the other enormous hand was a fist clenched in the collar of his long rest garment.

“Whose face is this?! Hm?!” Byron ground out.

Ranulf looked at the wall and tried to just hold still, but was still forced to dance awkwardly on his toes at being caught like this. He couldn't figure out what to do with his hands. They balled themselves up close to the thundering drum in his chest.

Don't hurt me… Please… Don't.

“A Stryag came outta my face.”

“That came out of your face.”

“...shit. how-”

“The study. Now Badulf.”

—ten minutes later—

“Thulgethra-”

“Lich fucked off.”

“...I thought so.”

“Boy of yours sent him packing.”

Badulf looked at him again, then. The eye to eye contact was weighted by hesitation. It was only occasionally that Badulf looked at him directly like this and usually with his lips sagging down at the corners. Byron kept referring to him as Badulf's boy, which the boy thought was- interesting? Odd. Meant something or other.

It felt like: subtext was constantly being spoon fed when he was still inside Badulf, but now cut off from his thoughts and feelings, he lacked the wisdom to interpret certain things said around him. It felt like bits and pieces were missing, and the fog in his independent mind was thick.

He wanted to get closer, but he was on a low ottoman and Badulf on the cushioned bench.

Byron pushed a bowl of nuts across the surface of the table at him. It was a mix, but there were hooked shapes among the whites and browns and golden colors. These are the kind Badulf loved, but they were hard to find and expensive. If they were salted… He took two and the taste spread over his tongue blissfully. Cashews!

The bowl of nuts was barren of cashews much faster than expected. He began to pick about for the roasted peanuts.

“...Hmm.” Byron drew his attention with a noise and lifted a brow. “You like cashews, hm?”

Badulf likes them, but he guessed that meant he liked them too. He nodded after a moment.

“Junior doesn't talk, far as I can tell. Can get a nod out of him once in a while. He listens well enough so I'm pretty sure he understands everything you say to him.” Byron commented.

“He talks. He said… something when he wandered into my room.” Badulf corrected.

“His room too, Badulf. Had another cot dragged in there. Not that he's been in it.”

“How long was I out?”

“Two days. He slept two hours. Mostly sat there staring at you.” the Lord answered Badulf. This was intel exchange.

Badulf grimaced, so the boy, or junior, or whoever he was supposed to be looked away. He hadn't known what else to do but sit and wait for Badulf. Maybe that was wrong? But what else was he to do? Nothing.

“Doesn't need as much sleep?” Badulf asked.

“Don't know. Can't tell. He's in shock.”

“-The fuck makes you so sure? These things are supposed to be gods, what the hell would he be in shock for?” Badulf snapped. He's irritable.

The child found it frustrating that he couldn't feel why Badulf was irritated.

“That's not a god, he's a boy. And I know Because I'm the fucking expert on screwing up with a ten year old.” Byron growled back.

He squirmed. It was different being outside by himself when people were agitated. Exposed, within reach, breakable.

The nice lady in dark robes with unsteady hands stepped in then, holding a smooth slab of polished granite with something that left a savory fragrance as she passed. She helped him with breakfast, and shivered through helping to comb his hair before that.

On the table the slab went. Dark red filleted snacking meats, light yellow cheese cubes, and a curious glob of white with a spreading knife stuck in it. Oh, and a green thing cut in wedges.

Next the decanter. That is dwarven whiskey. Pungent, awful stuff. The boy winced at the mere anticipation of the smell. Byron took the crystal bottle and a pair of short glasses from the lady and she then left… He swore. The door had neither opened or closed as she came and went.

He looked behind himself and about the room to find her, but she was gone as if she'd never been there at all. How. Weird.

“You have no right to lecture me. None.” Badulf rumbled.

“You're my accomplice. Yes I do.” Byron asserted while taking a thick stack of the sliced meats and consuming two at once folded in half.

Badulf took a cube of cheese and inspected it -or pretended to- while he reached a little too casually toward the decanter between him and Byron. The lord deftly slid the crystal full of disturbingly dark fluid out of the others reach.

Byron's glass was poured, then he leveled a stern glare at Badulf and poured only half as much in the second glass.

The child's mouth watered but not in a pleasant way. Nausea twisted in his gut in misplaced anticipation of the taste of the harsh brew, so he looked back to the slab of snacking foods. He took one of the little green wedges and turned it over between his fingers. He liked the color and the fragrance was nice.

“I want answers, Badulf.” Byron grumbled, but somehow gently.

“I don't know what else to tell you that you haven't already seen,”

The men talking faded into the distance in the boy's mind. Biting into the wedge yielded an odd reaction. It felt like everything in his face locked up and tensed against the taste. Sour sour sour sour. His eye and mouth watered.

When he could open his eye once more, he caught sight of Byron's huge hand seizing two of the green wedges. He carelessly tossed one into Badulf's glass, crushed his own against the rim of his glass, then cleaned the flesh from the rind with his teeth in one smooth move.

Maybe, I'm eating it wrong. The boy considered, then tried to imitate the elder across from him. He barely swallowed the fruit flesh. Long before he could open his eye again, he heard unfamiliar laughter booming.

“That's an acquired taste, Boy. Try this instead.” Bryon chortled.

A slice of the snack meats was placed before him, wrapped around a glob of the white stuff. It was savory and soft inside. That tasted somewhat familiar. He soon began rolling up the white glop in the meats himself, only catching bits and pieces of the conversation.

Much like the cashews, the snack meats vanished quickly too.

Lord Byron and Badulf were talking about the How and Why and When. Ranulf only knew about as much as Badulf did so said nothing. Some things weren't intrinsic, so he couldn't speak on how exactly he was created out of Badulf's thoughts and Thulgethra's profane intentions.

The glitter of something to The right caught the boy’s eye. Right, something shining. The desire to turn and see was not new, but turning to look automatically was. He never got to choose what was looked at when he was tucked away safe in Badulf's skull. He felt dumbstruck for a moment where he was, automatically faced toward the pot plant by the window to see a spider trapezing between two fan shaped leaves on glittering lines of silk. Round and round she went, delicately manipulating the threads… His eyelid began to disagree with him as he watched, it slid heavily over his eye.

#creative writing #not bg3 #d&d #ttrpg #keep your hands off my stuff Hasbro #tag game

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nicestpamkale · 2 years ago

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~Welcome to my page!~

Hooo boy is there a lot to catch you up on, hm? Well, don’t you worry!

I’m Pam. I go by he/they for the most part, but you’ll notice that my tag for things that I talk on or make comments about is #bigsispam. This is tumblr. That shouldn’t be all that surprising. Don’t worry if you slip and call me she/her. It’ll mostly just be uncomfortable for the Moment. (Not worrying =/= being okay with it. Please use he/they.)

I’m on desktop and mobile. I mostly scroll while eating dinner, and I am the resident Tumblr User in the group, meaning that a lot of Tumblr posts on my dash are probably in the friend-group discord. It’s impossible for me to stay on-point. You’ll see that quickly upon reading one of my essays.

I very frequently have episodes of an unknown type- I cannot afford medicine or therapy at this time.

Present Hyperfixation; Scum Villian’s Self-Saving System / SVSSS

What you’ll likely see me reblog the most.

Present Worldbuilding Work; The Demon Lords / The Seven Hells - Legends of Runia / Clove’s Curse

This is what I’ve been working on most in the background. I dunno how to synopsize it tho so. **Shrug**

Main Project; Storyteller Volume 1; Kuroshitsuji/Reader

Female Reader-Centric - It’s technically going to be Sebastian/Reader / Undertaker/Reader but that element is very light and it’s not at all the main point of the fic. The main point of the fic is to watch what happens when a bunch of people get transmigrated into Black Butler of all things and each of their individual perceptions of the content cripples the world dramatically.

Antagonists from every season- and some of whom created themselves- crawl out of the woodworks at unexpected times. Plot points are significantly altered or shoved in places they weren’t before. It’s practically a whole new story. So take that how you will. There’s also a lot of magic lore and demon/angel/reaper expansion which may not be your jive. In which, sorry.

Main AO3

One-shots / Sillies (Pseud: Laurel Wreaths)

Qoutev

Commission Info

More niche things below. ^u^

Key Tags;

#nicestart - my art

#nicestwriting - my writing

#ocs - posts about my original characters

#worldbuilding - Failing the above, I probably have some good writing in here!

Favourites - Subject to Change / Addition;

Favourite Colors; Midnight Blue, Sky Blue, Pastel Yellow, Pastel Pink

Favourite Flowers; Daffodils, Chrysanthemums, Carnations, Heather

Favourite Flavours; Cinnamon, Wintergreen, Mac & Cheese

Favourite Games; Sky COTL, Skyrim, Dorfromantik, Lob Corp

Soft Projects (Qoutev Links, Mostly);

(Qoutev) Ereyesterday - A story about a grown woman going through the school years with a little girl named Lily. There’s various monsters that will stalk and hunt the two throughout this story. It will be primarily psychological horror, obviously. #ereyesterday

(Qoutev) That Blank Space - A Lonnie x Hadley Office AU Fic I wrote for the fun of it. I thought making the two bisexual disasters kiss would be silly. Not updated that frequently but there is a vague outline for how it goes down. Non-canon compliant. #lonley

(Qoutev) Consequences of Time Loops in Skyrim - A Skyrim crackfic that’s just a bunch of idiots fucking about in Skyrim Time Loop Scenario. I need to update it, I just haven’t gotten around to it yet. #skyloops

(Ao3) Shen Qiao's Very Strange Life - A Yanshen Flower shop AU I just started. Will probably be updated when I feel very sad. #shenflower

LEGENDS OF RUNIA / THORNIA;

#world: legends of runia

Villain Masterpost

Gods Masterpost

Demon Lord Masterpost [Not Yet Made]

Country Masterpost [Not Yet Made]

VAMPIRICA;

[Not yet revealed! :o]

CINNABARI;

[Not yet revealed! D:]

ORIGINAL CHARACTERS;

Hadley Milner - Incarnate of Ariadne, a gardener and incredibly resilient. Has the magical abilities to control plants, though she could potentially do more down the road and I have some Funny Ideas about that. #oc: Hadley

Arlo Winchester - Ex-cultist and angry about it. Has killed a lot of people to be free with his sister. Has the magical ability to read someone’s emotion through physical contact and mess with their memories. #oc: Arlo

Please please ask me things about any of these topics! I’d love to start up tags for them / talk about them but I simply have not had the time or energy to do so on my own volition with lorge posts.

Vampirica and Cinnabari don’t yet have too much on them but I can always give you the run-down on what’s happening (generally speaking) if need be.

I’ve also got a private Skyrim Fic in the works that’s more serious than Skyloops.

CW // All of my worldbuilding and writing is liable to feature topics all over the spectrum of fucked up. I would recommend sending an ask personally about certain things and what topics may come up in projects I am working on, if you’re concerned for your health.

#technically an introduction #pinned #navigation #original stuff #information about me!#better late than never lmao

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fancy-feast-official · 3 years ago

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i was inspired by this post to write something lol

If I may suggest a scenario where Ingo gets returned to his time: he gets returned to his funeral.

Emmet gets convinced to hold a funeral wake for his brother because after a certain amount of time people have given up and need some closure. Its a solemn event, people chat, Emmet sulks since he has not given up.

Space time rips open. Ingo drops from the ceiling.

#submas #pokemon #legends: arceus #pokemon black and white #fanfic #arlo flowers writing tag

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frostedfaves · 4 years ago

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To Build A Home (10)

Masterlist

Pairing: Rosa Diaz x fem!reader

Summary: Rosa spent years building a friendship, relationship, and eventually a marriage and home with you. This tale follows your journey together up until her sudden murder. Now that you’ve tracked down her killer before anyone else, will you do the right thing and send him to prison or take care of him yourself?

Warnings: some emotional grieving with everyone involved, brief moment of soft!Rosa

A/N: this is the last chapter of the series! I’m sad that this is ending (aside from future blurb requests) but I’m excited to have more time to work on other things! I haven’t really worked on I Don’t Feel Alive much in the past few weeks so posting dates are TBD, but I will be opening my requests again soon while I figure it out! anyway thanks again for all your feedback, comments, reblogs, any little attention you gave to this series, I appreciate it all.

Previous chapter here

A frantic knocking brings Jake and Amy’s attention away from their book or phone, the two of them locking eyes across the table.

“Were you expecting anyone?”

Jake shakes his head, following Amy as she jumps to her feet and heads to the door. Upon opening it, her heart breaks at the sight of you on the other side, holding a bouquet of flowers that caught a few of the tears spilling down your cheeks.

“What’s going on?”

“I’m sorry for popping up so suddenly,” you spoke hoarsely, attempting and failing to clear your face with one sleeve. “It’s our first wedding anniversary and I was going to visit her grave but before I knew it I was here. I don’t want to speak to her that way and I don’t want to see her that way again and I don’t want to—”

You fell into Amy’s waiting arms as you broke, repeating “I don’t want to” until it turned into mumbled sounds mixed in with your sobbing. Jake quickly came around to close the door, putting the flowers you dropped off to the side before sandwiching you into a hug from the other side.

After you’d finally calmed down enough to breathe the three of you moved over to the couch, sitting in silence until you were ready to share what was on your mind. You held the bouquet in your arms once more, cradling it to your chest with one arm while you organized your thoughts.

“I didn’t even get to call her my wife for a year before she was gone.”

Amy shifted her teary gaze to you, placing a hand on your free one with a gentle touch. Jake sat on the other side of you, listening while trying to get a hold of his own emotions.

“We’ll never get to celebrate one year, five, ten, fifty. I wanted all of that time with her and it was stolen from me so easily.”

“Why don’t you write her a letter?” Jake suggested quietly. “When my grandma passed, Gina and I wrote letters to thank her for everything she did for us, and basically say anything we didn’t get to say before she went. I actually, um...I actually wrote one to Rosa the other day.”

Your eyes watered as you turned to him, a tear dropping as you addressed him. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” he asked, brows pressed together in confusion.

“I’ve been so lost in my own grieving that I forgot you lost someone too.” You turned to Amy. “Both of you have.”

“Y/N,” Jake placed his hand on your shoulder, offering you a sad smile. “Yes we all lost her, but she meant something different to each of us. We can’t always relate to each other’s pain with this because it’s different for all of us, and it’s not selfish to take the time to focus on working through what you feel.”

You returned his sad smile with a little more hope behind yours, placing the flowers on the table in front of you and grabbing both of their hands.

“I love you guys. Thanks for always being there for me.”

Amy chuckled a bit, squeezing your hand between both of hers. “It’s one of my favorite things to do.”

You’d barely been home from Jake and Amy’s apartment five minutes before there was a knock on your door. You opened it and a grin appeared on your face at the sight of Terry and the twins.

“Hi, Auntie Y/N!”

“Hi, sweet angels!” you greeted them as you pulled them into a group hug. “Hey, Sarge. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just picked the girls up from a playdate and I needed to bring you this.” He handed you a plastic bag that you instantly recognized.

“Is this the—”

“Yeah.” He sighed heavily. “I was going through the case file and realized this was still in evidence. I was able to sign it out because it had no relation to anything, and based on what today is, you may need it.”

“Daddy let us put something in there for you, too!”

“Yeah! It’s an invitation to dinner tomorrow and your favorite cookies,” Cagney added, her eyes suddenly widening. “Sorry, that was supposed to be a surprise.”

“It’s okay, Cagney,” Terry assured her with a pat on the shoulder before turning back to you. “Are you going to be okay? We would love to have you tonight, too.”

“I’ll be fine, and I’ll be there tomorrow. Thanks for the gift, angels,” you addressed the twins as you hugged them one last time.

You took your time opening the bag once you were alone, setting the card and cookies to the side and using your shaking hands to sift through the rest of the items. Underneath things like toothpaste and deodorant sat a little booklet titled “First Year of Many”.

You took a deep breath and opened it to a page with a handwritten note, handwriting you knew to be Rosa’s. Blinking back a few tears, you stroked your finger along the page carefully before finally reading her last words to you.

“Y/N Diaz, I love you. I was going to stop there, but I know you love it when I get mushy or whatever. So I’ll add that this has been the best (almost) year of my life. Being your wife and having you as mine is the greatest thing that has ever happened to me, especially after the horrors of coming out to my parents and being framed. You’re my favorite person in the world, and I can’t wait to celebrate our wedding day every year for the rest of our lives.”

By the end of the note you were sobbing again, and you had to take a few moments to breathe before you could move onto the pictures. Each one was from different days in the past year starting with your wedding day, and you admire her beauty through nonstop tears. Some were taken on special events like birthdays, with or without friends, and others were simply selfies from lazy days where you fell asleep before she did.

You closed the book and took the bag in your bedroom, setting the book on your bedside table to look at again later and placing the other items in the bathroom. You grabbed your phone and sat on the couch, dialing Rosa’s number and trying not to cry again when you heard her voice for the first time in months.

“Rosa Diaz’s phone. Leave a message or don’t.”

“Hey, baby. Um, happy anniversary. I really liked your present, by the way. Nowhere near as good as what I was going to get you.” You laughed a bit, sounding somewhat pathetic mixed in with sniffles.

“I miss you so fucking much. I miss your voice, your snorting laugh, riding on the back of your motorcycle, and cuddling morning, afternoon and night. I’ve never known pain like this before and I never want to again.”

A couple seconds of silence passed before you started again.

“I hope you’re safe and happy wherever you are. I hope you have unlimited axes to throw, and the Nancy Meyers movies are easily accessible. Most importantly, I hope you don’t miss me as much as I miss you because this really fucking hurts. Arlo and I feel like an incomplete puzzle without you. Anyway, I love you and—”

The automated voice cuts you off and you hang up instantly, not needing another reminder that you’ve run out of time to talk to Rosa. Part of you felt lighter after spilling your thoughts out to her, even if she couldn’t hear them. You smiled as Arlo padded sleepily into the room and climbed onto the couch to lie next to you, resting his head on your thigh. You thought back to Rosa’s vows, realizing that her wish of building a home with you had been granted.

You just wish she’d gotten the chance to live in it a little longer.

Tags: @creepingwolfberry @rosadiazswifey @milkfromhell @marie-03 @jay-is-groovy @gaulty74 @xetherealbeautyx

#to build a home #rosa diaz #rosa diaz x reader #rosa diaz imagine #rosa diaz x fem!reader #brooklyn nine nine #brooklyn 99 #brooklyn nine nine imagine #brooklyn nine nine fic series #brooklyn nine nine x reader #b99 fic #b99 imagine #b99 fic series #b99 x reader #b99 fanfic #b99 #stephanie beatriz

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nostalgiabones · 5 years ago

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Hemmings Family of Eight AU - the Children

So here are the names, ages and descriptions of the Hemmings children in my Family of Eight AU, which I started in the story A Sunday Afternoon. If you have any ideas for this AU or there are any specific stories you’d like me to write involving them, please let me know! It can be pretty much anything, involving any of the children or the whole family! Let me know here ♥️ thank you!

Grayson: He’s the musical genius of the children - so gifted at music just like his dad. He’s able to play the guitar, piano and drums, and always wants to learn more. His favourite hobby is learning to play new songs on his instruments with Luke, and tagging along to the studio with him and his uncles. He is protective over all of his siblings, and is the most sensible child - he has Luke’s kind nature. Looks wise, he is more alike you than Luke, but has Luke’s nose. He has never been into sports like his brothers, but does enjoy supporting his siblings with their sporting achievements.

Poppy: She’s world smart - she cares so much about all animals and nature, and has always been so confident and intelligent. Luke thinks she could be a motivational speaker. She always tries to educate those around her, especially her family. She is enthralled with academia, loves school and learning new information whenever she can. She can always be found doing school work or reading, as she is a massive book worm. Her favourite hobbies other than school are swimming and netball. She has been nicknamed Luke’s ‘little flower’ ever since she was born, due to her name. She always wants to do her bit to help the environment whenever she can.

Oscar & Arlo: The twins are inseparable from eachother, and always have been ever since they were born. Both boys love football and are willing to play any other sport that they get the chance to. They can be boisterous, loud & playful, they always have far too much energy, and you and Luke always know where they are because they can be heard from far away. Arlo is a little less confident than Oscar - Oscar is the one who convinces his twin to do mischevious things, and can sometimes get the pair into trouble.

Willow: She is the shy baby of the family, as well as the biggest daddy’s girl out of all of the children. She is quiet but mischievous. She looks just like luke with wild blonde curls and his nose. She always follows in the footsteps of her older twin brothers, and wants to be involved in any games that they play. Her favourite things are Luke playing guitar or reading stories to her. She can always convince her older sister to play or nap with her - her and Poppy are the closest of the siblings, despite their eight year age gap.

Theo: He is such a quiet and content baby, has the calmest nature out of all of the children. He can literally fall asleep anywhere, in any situation, because he is so used to noise and being fussed over by his five older siblings. He loves any attention that anyone wants to give him, and is happy for anyone to hold him as long as you or luke are near. He loves cuddles, especially when he first wakes up, or as he’s falling asleep.

Taglist: @irwinkitten @i-calumhood @gorgeouslygrace @luckyduckydoo @letstaketheups-and-downs @jazzyangel242 @cashworthy @babylon-corgis @norawashere @monsteramongmikey @late-nightdevil (let me know if you want to be added!)

Masterlist

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astranauticus · 6 years ago

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11/11/11 Tag Round 10 (?)

tagged by @onceuponanaromantic

This is a week late, clap for me

All OCs are from @through-our-eyes

1) If your OCs had an aura, what would it feel like? What would it look like?

Sylph would have a dark blue aura that helps anyone standing in it focus. Thoughts narrow until you’re only concentrating on the task at hand and all other distractions suddenly seem a lot less.. distracting

Morwyn’s aura would be bright turquoise and probably makes anyone in the general vicinity really hyperactive

Hazel’s would be pale orange and give off a comforting sort of warmth. Standing in it would also make you feel very sleepy

Remy’s aura would be either pale green or light brown, and it’ll have a similar effect to Morwyn’s except it’ll also cause your brain-mouth filter to break down

Arlo’s aura would be pale grey and make people’s thoughts clearer, but also way louder

2) If you had to write your WIPs in another literary style, what would you choose? (e.g. poem, play)

Honestly play would be the easiest in terms of transfer since comic writing (or at least the way I write my drafts) is pretty damn similar to script writing for a play anyway (the only difference being for my comic script drafts I don’t include action cues so much as really badly drawn kaomojis)

3) What courses would your OCs take if they were in university?

Sylph takes law, Morwyn takes either philosophy or ecology (is that an actual course that exists???) and Hazel takes astronomy

Arlo would take either philosophy or literature

I honestly don’t think Remy would go to university.

4) How would your OCs react to being isolated?

For Sylph, it doesn’t really matter to them much. Less people, less distractions.

For Morwyn, depending on where she is she’ll find as many ways to entertain herself as she can but eventually the boredom’s gonna get to her - she’s too social and hyperactive of a person to be isolated without going insane

For Hazel, being isolated would actually be pretty bad for her mental health since it really isn’t hard for loneliness to get to her. Besides, her own mind is her worst enemy.

Arlo probably wouldn’t mind so much since they’re used to playing by themselves, but they’ll still feel the boredom after a while

Remy would likely react similarly to Morwyn, with the main difference being (again, depending on where he’s being isolated) there’s a much higher chance he’ll accidentally injure himself trying to escape

5) What’s your favourite line from your favourite book?

I can’t actually think of one off the top of my head but I can quote my favourite line from The Three-Body problem (a Chinese sci-fi trilogy I highly recommend) specifically in an aroace context (excuse my attempts at translation):

(the main character just ran into a friend and physicist working on a particle collider, holding a bouquet of flowers)

“Who are those flowers for, prof?”

“These bloomed thanks to the heat from the lab’s colliders, of course they’re for myself.”

6) What would the clickbait title be of your WIPs?

(I might edit later but I actually can’t think of one)

7) If your OCs saw injustice, how would they react?

If it’s a single incident:

Sylph would try and reason with the unjust

Morwyn would throw hands

Hazel would either attempt at reason or watch and find a way to report it later, depending on how sure she is that she can defend herself if shit goes wrong

Arlo would attempt reason or, if all else fails, play their trump card: guilt tripping

Remy would throw hands and probably get his ass kicked, did he consider this as a possible outcome? no. no he did not

If we’re talkin systematic injustice:

Sylph would probably write/talk about it a lot and raise awareness in any way they can

Morwyn would do things like organise petitions and protests, in true ‘if you don’t care we’ll make you care’ fashion

Hazel would raise awareness and also figure out ways to help the oppressed

Arlo would focus more on specific actions to take, they probably won’t try to take on the whole issue in one go but would find ways to generate specific/localised change and work up from there

Remy would focus on stuff like protests, spreading the message and just being LOUD in general

8) How would your OC react to losing one of their senses? Which sense would they hate losing most?

Sylph wouldn’t react to much, it’s an inconvenience sure but it’s just a setback and setbacks can be overcome. They would probably react similarly to losing any sense, it doesn’t really matter to them much

Morwyn would be really really annoyed - there’s so much of the world she can’t experience now! Eventually she’ll figure out she can just get Hazel or Arlo to describe the stuff she’s missing out on. She’ll probably miss either sight or hearing the most, she’ll miss seeing the forest and knowing where she’s going and actually hearing her friends talking.

Hazel would probably panic, since her first thoughts would be along the lines of ‘what happened why did this happen to me’. Eventually she’ll make peace with it and try and cope without, although there will be times when she’ll get a bit depressed about what she has lost. Hazel would miss either sight or touch the most - she’s scared of being alone in the dark and she’s a pretty clingy person so she would miss feeling other people cough Morwyn cough by her side.

How Arlo reacts depends on how old they are when they lose their senses: younger Arlo would freak out, and recovery would probably take quite a while for them (5 stages of grief and all that). Older Arlo would be a lot more chill about it - they might be concerned and worried at the start but will eventually just focus on getting used to a new way of life. Again, Arlo would probably miss sight or hearing the most, but this is mostly because communication and getting their message across is really important to Arlo

9) What is the most satisfying moment your OC had?

10) An essay question I had to do in Lit goes ‘Choose 2 short stories and show how they go around the world or broke your heart’. What is the most heartbreaking moment your OCs experienced?

Screw you Ink I can’t actually answer these two without spoiling the plot of the Meaning of Stonehenge (don’t worry, I’ll come back and edit this after the episode’s over)

11) If your OCs were writers, what genres would they write in?

Sylph would either write non-fiction or stuff like 1984 that uses a fictional setting to comment on society

Morwyn would love writing fantasy or sci-fi: the more fantastical the better

Hazel would probably write either romance or mystery novels, the only rule being there won’t be a lot of action involved

Arlo would be into either non-fiction or children’s books, particularly children’s fantasy

Remy would love writing adventure novels with lots of action and suspense

Questions:

1. What is your OCs’ favourite day of the week?

2. What genre of music would your OCs listen to?

3. How high is your OCs’ pain tolerance?

4. What object/thing (e.g. car/house) would your OCs be the most scared of losing?

5. How would your OCs react to finding a lost and crying child?

6. A friend once called me her pet peeve because she’s a really meticulous person while I am very messy/clumsy. What kind of person would be your OCs’ pet peeve?

7. What part of your story do you usually come up with first? (e.g. characters/plot/worldbuilding)

8. If you had to represent your OCs’ voice with a font, what font would it be?

9. What would your OCs do on valentines day? (applies to both taken and single characters)

10. Would you trust your OCs to break bad news to a stranger? Why/Why not?

11. What would your OCs do to earn money in a dire situation?

I don’t actually know many people on this site, so anyone who sees this post is free to reblog

#11/11/11 #through our eyes #@ the threebody problem quote #i honestly love that professor to death #hes so bitchy #and for the pet peeve thing the exact conversation went something like #'yknow how some people have pet peeves my pet peeve is a person wanna guess who it is?'#'me?' 'yeah'

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fancy-feast-official · 2 years ago

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this is my piece from the fic!

Art based on my own fic! Which can be found here

But! My friend, @theartking, made the same fic but in Edgeworth’s pov, which can be found here!

Couple of stuff we talked about under cut, has some fic spoilers

#ace attorney #implied death #narumitsu #phoenix wright #miles edgeworth #arlo flowers writing tag #arlo flowers art tag

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jr-robot · 4 years ago

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MIDCENTURY MODERN IS JEANS

Commercial litigation

Private wealth management

Banking

Venture capital

Investment strategy

“Business transformation accelerator”

A young gay man crippled by perfectionism

British bake-off vs american reality tv contest

What are the strategies of reality tv

What are the formulas

Matt Lucas is a fucking bully

New York is about exploring your limits

I wanna be clean

In New York do people flip the fuck out over baseball games

Do other people in other countries hang out?

How present is coronavirus in your life?

Escaping from reality tv in reality tv

What’s so funny is how much reality tv has evolved

The strategies of extremely effective reality th

Giving people money

The virus is still alive

All american presidents are tall

I stopped reading american news and watching american tv and shit was so much better

Quarantine is a better version of LA

British bake-off versus american bbq off

British bake-off vs drag race

British bake-off vs top chef

This winter catch me at home, in bed, with all my dead flowers

What if I took as long as I needed to write something?

Just go to patty Chang SIGH

PATTY CHANG used to prick on the surface but these strike deep into the heart

New York math: you can spend $50 20 times. How many

Leopard

Peg Bundt shoes

Suzanne lacy and her prescience

In the 90s, Biden was the way more fucked up one

Talked about it like a war

And it was all true

He was really well prepared

Pepcid AC and flowers? Will Trader Joe’s be crazy?

Literature can never tell you how it smelled

Sex is not fun, it’s tedious

Cafe cluny 5 days

Pinche taqueria for two days

Coffee falafel shop

Nymag

Topshop

Places that would feed me

Remember when sea turtles were our worst worry

He can always find something bad to say about women

Theslayer1@1212

Concealer and lipstick

People signed on to trump when they accepted the grab em by the pussy

Jessica stockholder

Robert Nava at pace

Left that bitch on read

Anthony

Taiwanese art school coach

Call joe

Do a little workout

Sleep

Read Twitter

Work?

The totalitarian process has been long but this the the latest and most advanced step

Trump is truly unprecedented in his ability as cult leader

Disenfranchisement is at its peak

Will I stay and fight or will I leave

Violent religious extremists taking over the region

Ooh nah nah what’s her name

Arlo

Parks

People who live in less populated places are more obsessed with freedom because you don’t have to deal with other people

I want all my exes to see me now because they always made me feel not good enough

This fossil fuels thing is so misleading

Alternative living. This time not a physical commune but an ideological one based in the internet

A world of your own making, your own facts

What happens when you leave society

Finding some people sexy is fun

Time to stop feeding!!

The things that Americans don’t know about themselves. She has no mystery

Darren Star understands the nuances of French culture incredibly well. Everything Emily does is wrong

SUMMERS OVER

The last thing I wrote before quarantine was guggenheim

Resetting myself

No restaurants

99 ranch

Oxtail ragu

Make America great again

Make america polite again

When they said make America great again it’s because they were really hurting. They said it’s because of immigrants but that’s the lie they were told

Writing til I’m skinny

What if when they see us is bad?

I wanna review tv shows and movies

Watch everything

Be a movie reviewer. Now is the time

Develop style

I’m ready for life that has nothing to do with anybody else

I want a secret little room and a real desk

Joe has his desk I have mine

I wish that could be my desk nook

What else can I use where I easily organize things by hash tagging them?

If I were a teacher, I would make every class like rupauls drag race

I wouldn’t assign homework, I would make everything drag race

I would teach journalism through the news and not through curriculum

Does class hide behind race or does race hide behind class

The subtlety of white supremacy in the built environment that’s right in front of your face

Architecture doesn’t have historians about race and so much of it is done with good intentions

It’s been so deeply internalized over the last few generations that it’s hard to see

Classicism in architecture is about repeating that stuff

There’s a standardized New York bouquet

What if I got so skinny in New York

It’s deeply internalized and it is all around you and it has consequences

Seeing racial things but race is there even when it’s not

We’ve internalized it so much that it’s dofficult to see and we still unknowingly accept

That white supremacy is a physical thing

White supremacy is out in the open and it’s

Fox News clips of Trump speaking are so short because they mute most of it

I’m just gonna write in bed all day so I should get nice bed things

I need all the rooms in the house to be pretty

So I’m moving all of joes shit tomorrow

I’m gonna start shopping and cultivating my style it’s gonna be great!

Read watch shop

You got time

Office

I thought I was always on my own show

727,000

60,000

18 times the electoral votes

66 times the people

And if you vote republican in California your national vote is completely worthless

You have local government

Are you ready to say goodbye to 2020

It’s kind of my whole identity

I feel totally unattached to the earth right now

Because Los Angeles is so extremely young

If you vote republican in Wyoming you get 3

5.5 times the population of Wyoming

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fancy-feast-official · 1 year ago

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instead of doing anything normal (like taking ibuprofen for my headache) i just spent the past four hours of my life writing an essay on why manfred von karma is abusive. kind of proud of it ngl.

also i tagged all quotes from the original post i'm talking about to their actual [user].tumblr.com site which has really bright colors fyi. i'll link the tumblr.com/[user] site at the end of the essay if bright colors don't work for you. also if ppl start sending me hate i'm just gonna block them.

In a Tumblr post by Wendy/Jessie Rose Rocket (referred to from here on as Wendy) on their interpretation of Manfred von Karma (MvK) in the Ace Attorney series, they argue that there is little canon evidence that MvK could have ever abused his children.[1] This however, is not the case, as there are various examples which they cite themselves that include traits of emotional abuse, including a hyper-controlling nature, manipulation, and invalidation of the victim’s feelings.

Before I get into the various examples given in the original post which indicate emotional abuse, I will say that I am not going to attack the more personal aspects of this argument, nor do I wish to attack any people who believe that MvK is not an abuser. I only want to look at the facts of his characterization and dissect the argument itself. Ignoring or overwriting the signs of emotional abuse in fictional characters can pose some threat to real people – if they’ll excuse emotional manipulation in fiction, they may be willing to excuse when they themselves are emotionally manipulated. I also think that it is misleading for Wendy to state that they are alright with abuse victims writing MvK as an abuser, before spending several hundred words explaining why they don’t think that MvK is an abuser, and that Ace Attorney fans are wrong in interpreting him that way.

Also, I will mention that both my own essay and the original post are triggered somewhat by the Filter Bubble Effect,[2] where content filtering and selection leads to a person only seeing one opinion or viewpoint. Wendy mentions that, while they see differing viewpoints on MvK on Tumblr, Twitter, and AO3, they do not see interpretations of him as abusive on other sites. I personally disagree with this statement as entirely factual, as before this post was made I had never seen interpretations of MvK as anything other than abusive. There is likely a split between these two interpretations, and I’m not willing to hazard a guess as to percentages in each camp.

With all that said, Wendy also mentions that both Miles Edgeworth (Edgeworth) and Franziska von Karma (Franziska) are “incredibly queer & nd coded.”[3] This is somewhat untrue. Both Edgeworth and Franziska are written as stuffy, calculating, and believing themselves to be entirely logical. While these are considered traits of neurodivergency, it is stated within the canon of the games that these traits have been trained in them by MvK. There’s an argument to be made on nurture versus nature (especially in the case of Edgeworth), but for the purposes of my argument I am going to say that this is more due to their upbringings than anything else.

While Edgeworth is somewhat queer-coded, it is only really present as a joke (Implications that Edgeworth isn’t aware that women find him attractive[4]), or because of his relationship with Phoenix Wright.[5] Franziska is not queer coded, though she is written as somewhat masculine compared to other female characters. This characterization is more a result of her being a female version of MvK and Edgeworth, and less to do with any alleged queerness.

The first piece of evidence which Wendy gives, under the context that it is “the one single piece of evidence that team fanfred brings to the table,”[6] are three lines from Ace Attorney Investigations, both in the fourth case. The first is a conversation between Franziska and MvK,

Franziska: Papa! You’ll come and watch my courtroom debut next, won’t you?

Manfred: Hmm… I’ll consider it.[7]

This conversation is rather innocuous, though it shows that MvK can be dismissive of his children at times. The more damning line is the second one which Wendy includes, where MvK says to Edgeworth, “A worthless person like you has no right to claim such a thing as perfection!”[8] This is one of many examples of MvK expecting nothing but perfection from both of his children. An expectation of perfection leads to Franziska and Edgeworth doubting themselves, and feeling worthless.[9] MvK places high importance on perfection, leading to his care for his children being conditional, reliant on their ability to be perfect.[10] Among other things, instilling self-doubt and worthlessness, and making acceptance or care conditional are signs that someone is being emotionally abusive.[11]

MvK is shown in various media to have a constant need for perfection and control of everything around him. in Ace Attorney Investigations, he manipulates aspects of cases so that he is guaranteed to win,[12] something he also does in “Turnabout Goodbyes.” It is completely reasonable that, when his own protégé does not display this inhuman perfection, he would be upset and lash out, as he does in the above example. Wendy notes that the word used in the original exchange, 半人前, does not translate to “worthless,” but instead to “an amateur / someone without experience.”[13] This, of course, is much more accurate to the context of their situation, but stating that the translation must have been made in bad faith is besides the point. There is no reason that MvK should be putting such high expectations for perfection on someone who, in real life, would not even have finished college yet. While it does not hold much weight as evidence for my own argument, it holds very little weight for their argument as well. However, it is important to cover this exchange, as they believe it is the only evidence a so-called “Fanfred” might be able to find indicating an abusive characterization.

Wendy continues on by listing the many ways in the anime that MvK is shown to be a good father. While they can be seen as evidence that he is not abusive, abusers can be nice to their victims, for a myriad of reasons. This can be done for any number of reasons, including: Bolstering the abusers image to the victim or outsiders, or to convince themselves they are a good person; As a manipulation tactic; And because the abuser is in the recovery phase of the abuse cycle.[14] I am going to focus on the former of these two reasons, as they are more likely in the von Karma situation.

The most striking of the initial examples from the anime is Edgeworth’s statement that “he considers [MvK] the only person who was there for him after his father died.”[15] While this can seem like a positive thing, it is important to note that MvK very clearly isolated Edgeworth from his friends by moving him out of his house, away from his friends (who are not provided with any information as to why he’s gone). Social isolation is a tactic of abuse, used to tether a victim to their abuser so that they are more reliant on them.[16] The next examples of MvK complying with Franziska’s demands in an effort to make Edgeworth smile after he first moves in with them could be an example of him wanting to cheer Edgeworth up after the death of his father (who, I will remind you, was killed by MvK). However, this could have underlying motives, where MvK wants Edgeworth to open up to him, so that he might have more control over him. By killing Gregory Edgeworth, and raising his son to be as ruthless as himself, MvK takes care of the “curse” that he believes the Edgeworths to be.[17]

In the anime, MvK reacts rather calmly to Edgeworth’s first ever defeat during “Turnabout Samurai.” Wendy states that he seems “perplexed,” but is not in any way “cruel and unusual” what he says during that conversation.[18] Taken out of the context of MvK’s behavior, this is plausible. However, over the 15 years that he raised Edgeworth, he emphasized perfection over all else. Edgeworth’s reaction to losing is so negative because of MvK’s influences on his ideas of self-worth. In the conversation, MvK also advises Edgeworth to not have feelings, invalidating any feelings that Edgeworth might have about the cases he works on, feelings which can be necessary in determining the truth.

I agree with Wendy that MvK is, as they put it “a despicable fucking human being.”[19] In “Turnabout Goodbyes” alone, he:

Commits aggravated assault, including assault against a minor

Steals and tampers with evidence

Engages in conspiracy to commit murder, and is shown to have committed murder himself

Frames two people for murders that he was involved in

Due to his propensity for physical violence, it is no stretch to assume that he is physically violent with his own family members.[20] Even if he is not physically abusive, it has been shown time and time again that he emotionally abuses his children, and even despite that they look up to him. It is not uncommon for an abuse victim to love or care for their abuser. This can lead to blaming oneself for the abuse, and normalizing the abuse that is happening.[21] The reactions that Wendy wants to see in fics are plausible reactions for abusive victims to have when their abuser dies. It is possible for someone to understand they are being abused and yet still love the person doing the abusing.

Now, the lead poisoning business. Yes, it is possible for someone to get lead posioning from a bullet wound.[22] This is a plausible excuse for MvK’s behavior in later years, however, his tendency towards manipulation and hyper-control are present in “The Inherited Turnabout,” before he’s shot.[23] While lead poisoning does cause irritability, it also causes memory difficulties,[24] something that would hinder MvK’s ability to write his detailed plan for payback which he sends to Yanni Yogi.[25] This removes any plausible deniability for MvK in the murder of Robert Hammond – he very clearly knew what he was doing, and knew the consequences, which is why he tried to frame Edgeworth and Yogi. In a real court of law, he would be competent to stand trial for his crimes.

In conclusion, while he is not explicitly shown to physically abuse his children, Manfred von Karma canonically emotionally abuses his children, forcing them to adhere to his strict sense of perfection and morality. When both Franziska and Edgeworth fail to live up to his impossible standards, they doubt their own abilities and self-worth. Excusing this behavior in any person could lead to people not realizing that they’re being abused, and therefore having more difficulty getting out of abusive situations. It’s alright to like MvK as a character, but deliberately overlooking his abusive tendencies is to overlook a major part of his character, and his relationship with Edgeworth and Franziska.

"I'm Going to Change Your Mind About Manfred Von Karma"

#manfred von karma #mvk #ace attorney #please god help me why did i do this #arlo flowers writing tag #abuse mention #child abuse mention #emotional abuse mention

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novialobo · 7 years ago

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BASIC INFORMATION

FULL NAME: Novia Muñoz del Rio

PRONUNCIATION: noʊviə muñɑz dɛl ˈrioʊ

MEANING: Novia has several meanings and translations including; new, bride, fiancée, sweety, girlfriend. Muñoz is a patronymic surname meaning "son of Muño" which means hill. And Rio means river.

REASONING: Novia was given her name because she was born as her parents began their new journey in Cuba

ALIAS: Diego Ortiz

BIRTH DATE: December 12th, 1755

AGE: 262

ZODIAC: Sagittarius

GENDER: Female

PRONOUNS: She/Her

SPECIES: Werewolf

ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Biromantic

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Bisexual

NATIONALITY: Cuban

CURRENT LOCATION: Ashbourne, Nova Scotia

LIVING CONDITIONS: A small cozy home on the outskirts of Ashbourne, surrounded by 640 acres of land.

BACKGROUND

BIRTH PLACE: Matanza, Cuba

HOMETOWN: Matanza, Cuba

SOCIAL CLASS: Born lower class, now upper class

EDUCATION LEVEL: Life Skills? No official education background

LANGUAGE(S) SPOKEN: Spanish, French, Romanian, English, German, Ukrainian, and Russian

FATHER: Munio Rodríguez [deceased]

MOTHER: Maria González [deceased]

SIBLING(S): N/A

CHILDREN: Munio & Maria Díez [deceased]

PET(S): None currently.

OTHER IMPORTANT RELATIVES: N/A

PREVIOUS RELATIONSHIPS: Diego Ortiz (1773-1792; married 1776), Arlo/Amara (1872-1876), Toma Bălan (1925-1986; married 1950), Mackenzie Renaud (2007-2010)

FRIENDS: Helena Hastings & Julienne Beauchamp,

FOES: None at the moment.

PACK MEMBERS: Helena Hastings, Julienne Beauchamp, Sebastian Hastings, Landon Hastings, Mackenzie Renaud, Adelynn Renaud & Laila Renaud

ARRESTS?: Public indecency (Berlin, Germany)

PRISON TIME?: None

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE & CHARACTERISTICS

FACE CLAIM: Ana de Armas

EYE COLOR: Hazel

HAIR COLOR: Dark brown (currently)

HAIR TYPE/STYLE: Short bob (currently)

GLASSES/CONTACTS: Unnecessary

DOMINANT HAND: Left

HEIGHT: 5′ 6″

BUILD: Mesomorph

EXERCISE HABITS: Casual hikes most mornings; infrequent jogs

SKIN TONE: Fair

TATTOOS: None

PIERCINGS: One pair of earrings

NOTABLE FEATURES: A youthful appearance that make her appear sweet and innocent

USUAL EXPRESSION: A small smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes

CLOTHING STYLE: Button down shirts, plain jeans, and a coat; business casual (currently)

JEWELRY: Two wedding bands on a silver chain as a necklace; one is from Diego and the other Toma

ALLERGIES: None now; as a human her hay fever was mild

BODY TEMPERATURE: Above average

DIET: Mostly plant based with red meat

PHYSICAL AILMENTS: None

OCCUPATION & INCOME:

PRIMARY SOURCE OF INCOME: Savings & Investments

SECONDARY SOURCE OF INCOME: Lifeguard & Swim teacher at DeadLift Gym

CONTENT WITH THEIR JOB (OR LACK THERE OF)?: Yes, who wouldn’t love teaching children?

PAST JOB (S): Sugar cane harvester, sugar plantation owner, Cuban solider, au pair, Canadian Woman’s Army Corps, British Army, Chernobyl Nuclear Plant

SPENDING HABITS: Anything pretty, lots of gifts

MOST VALUABLE POSSESSION: Her collection of photographs she’s taken over the years

PSYCHOLOGY & PERSONALITY

ELEMENT: Water; strong but soft

APPROXIMATE IQ: 100

CHARACTER ARCHETYPE: The Mother

STRONGEST CHARACTER TRAITS: Understanding, Honorable, Loyal

WEAKEST CHARACTER TRAITS: Distant, Secretive, Opinionated

MENTAL CONDITIONS/DISORDERS: None

EMOTIONAL STABILITY: Relatively stable

PHOBIA(S): None

ADDICTION(S)/BAD HABITS:

OBSESSIONS: Photography

BIGGEST SECRET: She blames herself for the deaths of her loved ones

DRUG USE: Sober since 1996

ALCOHOL USE: Infrequently, prefers Bourbon when indulging

SWEARING?: Not often

PRONE TO VIOLENCE?: No, prefers to stay out of fights. Will fight from a distance if necessary

RELIGION: Nonpracticing Catholic

HOGWARTS HOUSE: Gryffindor

MORAL ALIGNMENT: Chaotic Good

MANNERISMS

SPEECH STYLE: Slow & soft

ACCENT: Her English is heavily saturated with a mix of Spanish and Eastern European accents. A few more consistent years of speaking English will lessen the severity.

HABITS: Photographing people without consent, watching the sunrise

NERVOUS TICKS: Running the tips of her fingers over her nails

DRIVES/MOTIVATIONS/: To be at peace with the world, she wants to live out the rest of her years without being haunted by the past. She can’t change it, it’s time to accept it and move forwards

GENERAL FEARS: Finding a new family only to lost them to death once again

SENSE OF HUMOR: Light hearted and teasing

CATCHPHRASE(S): Nothing particular, but calls people ‘darling’ frequently

FAVORITES

ANIMAL: Wolf, is that too obvious?

BEVERAGE: Cuban coffee or hot chocolate

BOOK: A WAC Looks Back by Doris “Joy” Thurston or The Things They Carried by Tim O’Brien

COLOR: Lavender

FOOD: Picadillo

FLOWER: Lilies

GEM: Amethyst

HOLIDAY: Christmas

MODE OF TRANSPORTATION: Walking; horse back

MOVIE: Schindler’s List

MUSICAL ARTIST: Beethoven

QUOTE/SAYING: “ Every person from your past lives as a shadow in your mind. Good or bad, they all helped you write the story of your life, and shaped the person you are today.”

SCENERY: Thick forests

SCENT: Her loved ones

SPORT: Soccer

SPORTS TEAM: Cuba national football team

TELEVISION SHOW: N/A

WEATHER: Winter

VACATION DESTINATION: Thailand

PAST/FUTURE

WHAT WERE THEY LIKE AS A CHILD?: Hard working, loving, playful

GROW UP RICH OR POOR?: Poor mostly, then slowly gained affluence

NURTURED OR NEGLECTED?: Nurtured

ASPIRATIONS AS A CHILD?: To fall in love and get married

SMELL THAT REMINDS THEM OF CHILDHOOD: Sugar cane and wheat fields

BEST CHILDHOOD MEMORY?: Playing tag on the plantation with the other children

WORST CHILDHOOD MEMORY?: Working in the fields day and night

OPINIONS ON MARRIAGE?: Marriage is a beautiful thing, but I’d rather not try it a third time

WANT KIDS?: Yes, but doesn’t believe she can have any

WANT TO GROW OLD?: Yes

WANT TO SETTLE DOWN?: Yes

#cursedbloodtask #headcanons

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