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hollowed-theory-hall · 9 months ago

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Hello! I have seen this question debated many times and I wanted to know your take on it cause I find your theories very compelling. Do you think harry should've been in Slytherin? Does he have what it "takes" to be a Slytherin? Is it because of voldemort's soul in him that lead the sorting hat to even suggest he could be in Slytherin? I know this is not one question but I would like to know your opinion on this topic in general!

First of all, thank you for the kind words! 😊

As for the questions, well, you've asked more than one question, but this ask kinda gives me a good reason to talk about how Harry isn't some golden Gryffindor. He actually has some anger issues and he most definitely has what it "takes" for Slytherin.

I'll start with the last question and then go backward, actually.

Did the hat consider Slytherin house just because of the Horcrux?

I don't think so.

I mean, Harry is incredibly clever, magically powerful, and has a cunning streak a mile wide all on his own. I'd actually go as far as to say he's more cunning, ruthless, and resourceful than many of the Slytherins we see in the books. So his own traits definitely are in line with a Slytherin sorting, Horcrux or no Horcrux.

We can try and discern if the Horcrux has an effect on Harry's personality then, and if its influence is seen like that. I'd say that I don't think so either.

Tom and Harry, while they have their similarities, are very different people. They both have a bad temper (although they react to anger differently), but Harry has low self-esteem whereas Tom thinks he is the best (while still hating himself). They're both stubborn, but Tom is much more obsessive than Harry in pursuit of his goals. Harry cares for justice and isn't willing to hurt innocents, Tom doesn't really care about any of that he cares for efficiency. If the Horcrux was influencing Harry's personality, I'd expect to see more similarities between them that go deeper than that.

So, I don't think the hat only offered Slytherin because of the Horcrux. Harry is a Slytherin in his own right.

Does Harry have what it "takes" for Slytherin?

So, I honestly got really excited at the sight of this sentence. See I love Harry, that's no secret. But one of the things I love about him is that he isn't the perfect noble hero. He can be angry, and cruel and ruthless. But he has a sense of justice, he wouldn't wish harm on someone innocent, but someone who did harm to him, or was mean to him or someone he cares for... then Harry can be terrifying when he wants to be.

So, now I'm going to go through some (I have so many more examples of this, and the examples here are mostly books 1-5 since that's what I had on hand) of my collection of quotes showing Harry Potter's vindictiveness and anger.

Harry's response to "have a good summer" at the end of his first year:

“Oh, I will,” said Harry, and they were surprised at the grin that was spreading over his face. “They don’t know we’re not allowed to use magic at home. I’m going to have a lot of fun with Dudley this summer.…

(PS, page 221)

This is Harry's (very justified) vindictiveness we see towards the Dursleys many times in the books. He uses the idea of magic to scare them and is gleeful at the thought of Dudley's fear. Harry is very much chill with vengeance.

“…He likes to keep in touch with me, though . . . keep up with my news . . . check if I’m happy. . . .” And, grinning broadly at the look of horror on Uncle Vernon’s face, Harry set off toward the station exit, Hedwig rattling along in front of him, for what looked like a much better summer than the last.

(PoA, page 435)

Same as above, just Sirius Black as the threat instead of magic.

Yes, thought Harry, that looked all right. There was no point putting in the dream; he didn’t want it to look as though he was too worried.

(GoF, page 25)

Harry can and does lie and conceal information, even from people he trusts (like Sirius) if he thinks it'll be better not to tell them something. Whether that is for his own image or for what they would think.

“Potter! Weasley! What are you doing?” It was Professor McGonagall, and her mouth was the thinnest of thin lines. “We were — we were —” Ron stammered. “We were going to — to go and see —” “Hermione,” said Harry. Ron and Professor McGonagall both looked at him. “We haven’t seen her for ages, Professor,” Harry went on hurriedly, treading on Ron’s foot, “and we thought we’d sneak into the hospital wing, you know, and tell her the Mandrakes are nearly ready and, er, not to worry —” Professor McGonagall was still staring at him, and for a moment, Harry thought she was going to explode, but when she spoke, it was in a strangely croaky voice. “Of course,” she said, and Harry, amazed, saw a tear glistening in her beady eye.

(CoS, page 259)

And he clearly can lie well, even at 12.

But Harry wasn’t going to stand for this. Gone were the days when he had been forced to take every single one of the Dursleys’ stupid rules. He wasn’t following Dudley’s diet, and he wasn’t going to let Uncle Vernon stop him from going to the Quidditch World Cup, not if he could help it. Harry took a deep, steadying breath and then said, “Okay, I can’t see the World Cup. Can I go now, then? Only I’ve got a letter to Sirius I want to finish. You know — my godfather.” He had done it. He had said the magic words. Now he watched the purple recede blotchily from Uncle Vernon’s face, making it look like badly mixed black currant ice cream.

...

He stopped there to enjoy the effect of these words. He could almost see the cogs working under Uncle Vernon’s thick, dark, neatly parted hair. If he tried to stop Harry writing to Sirius, Sirius would think Harry was being mistreated. If he told Harry he couldn’t go to the Quidditch World Cup, Harry would write and tell Sirius, who would know Harry was being mistreated. There was only one thing for Uncle Vernon to do. Harry could see the conclusion forming in his uncle’s mind as though the great mustached face were transparent. Harry tried not to smile, to keep his own face as blank as possible. And then — “Well, all right then. You can go to this ruddy . . . this stupid . . . this World Cup thing.

(GoF, page 33)

Again, vindictiveness and manipulation of Vernon through fear. Not only that, but Harry can keep his calm and keep his face blank even at 14 for the sake of getting something he wants.

“Get stuffed, Malfoy,” said Harry. “C’mon, Ron. . . .” “Oh yeah, you were staying with them this summer, weren’t you, Potter?” sneered Malfoy. “So tell me, is his mother really that porky, or is it just the picture?” “You know your mother, Malfoy?” said Harry — both he and Hermione had grabbed the back of Ron’s robes to stop him from launching himself at Malfoy — “that expression she’s got, like she’s got dung under her nose? Has she always looked like that, or was it just because you were with her?” Malfoy’s pale face went slightly pink. “Don’t you dare insult my mother, Potter.” “Keep your fat mouth shut, then,” said Harry, turning away.

(GoF, page 204)

Harry has a bark (all of the above quotes are Harry having a bark). He can and does shoot back as good as he gets.

Harry isn't all bark though, he's got a bit. Harry's anger is palpable and so very real and I love seeing it:

just as Uncle Vernon burst out of the dining room, his trouser leg in bloody tatters. “COME BACK IN HERE!” he bellowed. “COME BACK AND PUT HER RIGHT!” But a reckless rage had come over Harry. He kicked his trunk open, pulled out his wand, and pointed it at Uncle Vernon. “She deserved it,” Harry said, breathing very fast. “She deserved what she got. You keep away from me.” He fumbled behind him for the latch on the door. “I’m going,” Harry said. “I’ve had enough.”

(PoA, page 30)

Again, Harry has his vindictive strike. (Obviously, Marge had it coming, but that's also what Harry is thinking).

A boiling hate erupted in Harry’s chest, leaving no place for fear. For the first time in his life, he wanted his wand back in his hand, not to defend himself, but to attack . . . to kill.

(PoA, page 339)

“You killed my parents,” said Harry, his voice shaking slightly, but his wand hand quite steady.

(PoA, page 341)

Harry, at 13, was fully willing to kill who he believed led to his parents' deaths. And more:

So what if he had to kill the cat too? It was in league with Black. . . . If it was prepared to die, trying to protect Black, that wasn’t Harry’s business. . . .

(PoA, page 342)

He's willing to kill Hermione's cat if it stands in his way.

Harry stood there, feeling suddenly empty. He hadn’t done it. His nerve had failed him. Black was going to be handed back to the dementors.

(PoA, page 343)

Harry Potter, at 13, laments that he didn't have the nerve to kill Sirius himself. He thinks he should've killed himself. He sees it as a failure that justice would be served by someone other than him.

Harry sat there staring at Snape as the lesson began, picturing horrific things happening to him. . . . If only he knew how to do the Cruciatus Curse . . . he’d have Snape flat on his back like that spider, jerking and twitching. . . .

(GoF, page 300)

Harry felt oddly separate from everyone around him, whether they were wishing him good luck or hissing “We’ll have a box of tissues ready, Potter ” as he passed. It was a state of nervousness so advanced that he wondered whether he mightn’t just lose his head when they tried to lead him out to his dragon, and start trying to curse everyone in sight.

(GoF, page 347)

The above quotes are both situations Harry was willing and wishing to curse people. Even Crucio Snape. He's not as noble and righteous and golden as many fans and characters in the books make him out to be...

If Dudley’s friends saw him sitting here, they would be sure to make a beeline for him, and what would Dudley do then? He wouldn’t want to lose face in front of the gang, but he’d be terrified of provoking Harry. . . . It would be really fun to watch Dudley’s dilemma; to taunt him, watch him, with him powerless to respond . . . and if any of the others tried hitting Harry, Harry was ready — he had his wand . . . let them try . . . He’d love to vent some of his frustration on the boys who had once made his life hell —

(OotP, page 11)

And sometimes, Harry wishes for an excuse to fight. An excuse to take his anger out on someone. (He has a lot of anger in him)

Smirking all over his pointed face, Draco Malfoy leaned across Harry and seized the largest bowtruckle. “Maybe,” said Malfoy in an undertone, so that only Harry could hear him, “the stupid great oaf’s got himself badly injured.” “Maybe you will if you don’t shut up,” said Harry out of the side of his mouth.

(OotP, page 260)

He's threatening and witty.

“Oh no,” said Hermione, quaking so badly that her knees gave way. “Oh, that was horrible. And he [Gwamp] might kill them [the centaurs] all. . . .” “I’m not that fussed, to be honest,” said Harry bitterly.

(OotP, page 759)

And when it comes to people he doesn't consider innocent, or ones he doesn't care for, even if they never harmed him, Harry is still vindictive. The centaurs mistreated Firenze and Hagrid, so Harry doesn't really care if Gwamp kills them all.

That being said, he is more concerned about Sirius in the above scene.

And he can and does cast unforgivables easily by the later books:

Hatred rose in Harry such as he had never known before. He flung himself out from behind the fountain and bellowed “Crucio!” Bellatrix screamed. The spell had knocked her off her feet, but she did not writhe and shriek with pain as Neville had — she was already on her feet again, breathless, no longer laughing. Harry dodged behind the golden fountain again — her counterspell hit the head of the handsome wizard, which was blown off and landed twenty feet away, gouging long scratches into the wooden floor.

(OotP, page 809)

Harry raised the hawthorn wand beneath the cloak, pointed it at the old goblin, and whispered, for the first time in his life, “Imperio!” A curious sensation shot down Harry’s arm, a feeling of tingling, warmth that seemed to flow from his mind, down the sinews and veins connecting him to the wand and the curse it had just cast. The goblin took Bellatrix’s wand, examined it closely, and then said, “Ah, you have had a new wand made, Madam Lestrange!”

(DH, pages 152-453)

As Amycus spun around, Harry shouted, “Crucio!” The Death Eater was lifted off his feet. He writhed through the air like a drowning man, thrashing and howling in pain, and then, with a crunch and a shattering of glass, he smashed into the front of a bookcase and crumpled, insensible, to the floor. “I see what Bellatrix meant,” said Harry, the blood thundering through his brain, “you need to really mean it.”

(DH, page 502)

So, I think Harry definitely has what it takes. He's clever, he can be ruthless, and he's capable of lying and hiding secrets when he feels it's the best option. He can hide his emotions when he really needs to, even if he rarely does. Actually, only in book 6, Harry starts sharing everything with Ron and Hermione on Dumbledore’s advice. Up to that point, he kept quite a bit to himself. And when someone wrongs him, he can and often will swing back.

And last but not least, should he have been in Slytherin?

So, this is an interesting question, because "should" can have two meanings.

1. Should've for the story — as in what is best for the narrative.

2. Should've for the character — in universe, which house the sorting hat should've picked.

So, for the first one, my answer is no. Gryffindor was the right choice for Harry for the narrative of the books as they are. Gryffindor is essentially the opposite of Slytherin and represents a choice more than just the traits and values the house represents. It represents Harry's choice even though he could've been a Slytherin he chose Gryffindor. And it's a constant choice with every heroic act. (personally, I'm not the biggest fan of equating school houses with morality, but it's effective in creating a clear narrative)

And while not all Slytherins are evil and not all Gryffindors are good, a Slytherin Harry Potter would've resulted in a very different story than what we have. So, for the story we ended up getting to happen the way it did, yes, Harry needed to be a Gryffindor.

For the second, maybe. Personally, I believe people (even if they aren't hatstalls) have more than one house they can fit into. Harry is both a Slytherin and a Gryffindor, and neither of them is more wrong or right for him as a person. I think deciding which one of them is best for him is up to a coin flip (and when in his life the question is asked).

He can be ruthless and cunning like a Slytherin. Selfless and courageous like a Gryffindor. He values justice like a Gryffindor. But he also has the selective loyalty of Slytherin to their own.

Point is, there isn't really a "should", because both suit him and he would’ve done well in both. Do I think Slytherin Harry is an incredibly fun concept to consider? Yes. Did I read way too many fics with this premise and would read more? Yes. Do I think he might've fit into Slytherin better than Gryffindor? Well, not necessarily.

Harry is much quieter than most in Gryffindor, but I think the constant scheming and image-keeping in Slytherin would be exhausting to him. He just doesn't care about all the gossip and politicalizing (something that occasionally leaves him out of the loop also in Gryffindor). So, again, both suit him about equally. The difference is that we get a very different story depending on his house.

#harry potter #harry potter thoughts #hp #hp thoughts #hollowedtheory #harry potter analysis #harry potter meta #hp meta #harry james potter #asks #anon asks #anonymous #slytherin harry potter

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lavender-butterfly-cookie · 1 month ago

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The Greatest Show (Pre corruption Shadow Milk cookie x Reader)

Imagine being the assistant of the smartest cookie to have ever walked earthbread. Imagine having the honor of working side by side with a cookie whom holds all knowledge. Imagine being part of so many magnificent shows by his side. Well, this isn't an imagination for Y/N cookie. They were the most trusted cookie of Blueberry Milk cookie, after all.

To work side by side with him was the highest of honors. He was smart, funny and frankly the best companion to work with. He had the most wisdom in all of earthbread and obviously that drew a lot of cookies to come see him. Y/N cookie themselves, as the great cookies assistant, also greatly admired him. And he knew it. He was kind and caring with them and when he wished to have company under the night sky it was always Y/N cookie who'd be there. The two had grown close and it was undeniable that both were fond of each other.

This relationship didn't go unnoticed though. Many cookies wanted to be in Y/N cookies place. They yearned being so close with a cookie such as Blueberry Milk cookie, and seeing someone like Y/N cookie get that privilege on a silver platter sparked some envy amongst them. What did Blueberry Milk cookie even see in them? Wouldn't he rather have a cookie stronger than them? What use does this cookie even have to him? The cookies grew to resent the assistant for having an opportunity they couldn't. This hatred grew more and more and as time past they practically wanted the cookie dead.

"Y/N cookie. Can I speak to you for a moment?"

Y/N cookie turned to face Blueberry Milk cookie when he asked that. They were in his study and were looking through some scrolls for what had been a decently quiet 30 minutes, so the question was a bit sudden. Nevertheless, they nodded.

"Of course. What can I do for you?"

"Have you noticed? The other cookies seem to have grown bitter around you. Do you know why?"

Y/N cookie stayed silent for a moment. It would be a lie to say that this went unnoticed by them. The other cookies seemed to dislike them now, and they didn't know why.

"No. I'm unsure why. As far as I know, I haven't done anything to them. It's strange, really. What could've sparked such hatred towards me?"

"Who knows. It might just have to do with the fact that you're my assistant."

"Really? how so?"

"If you think about it, many cookies would want to be in your shoes, have your position beside me, let's say. It might just be that they envy you for this."

Blueberry Milk cookie looks out the window for a bit in deep thought. Many cookies yearned the position Y/N cookie had. So much that it's turned into envy and resentment towards them. If this wasn't dealt with eventually, then they might be at risk of physical harm. The thought alone scared Blueberry Milk cookie. Those other cookies didn't understand his deep connection with Y/N cookie. And they never will if they choose to hurt them.

"Y/N cookie, do me a favor will you."

"Yeah?"

"Please keep an eye out for any suspicious behavior from the cookies. I don't want to assume they'd do something bad, but it's best to stay safe rather than to regret it in the end. Will you please do that for me?"

"I will. Thanks for the concern."

"Good. It's getting late, I think it's best for you to go to bed for the night. I'll finish up here."

"Alright then. Goodnight Blueberry Milk cookie."

"Goodnight Y/N cookie."

As Y/N cookie walks through the long halls to their room, they can't help but feel something is off. They turned around to check if thy were being followed several times but there was nothing. Once they were finally close to their room there was the sound of something falling over behind them. They turned around to see a butler cookie, frozen in place and staring at them. He let out a sigh as he stood up straight.

"Ah, caught your attention. A slip up on my end, my apologies."

He said it so casually, like this was normal. Y/N cookie stepped back, the feeling that something was off was now at it's peak. He was up to something, they just know it. Why else would he have tried so desperately to be unseen.

"What do you want? Aren't you supposed to have gone homw by now?"

"Yes, I suppose so but it seems like there was still a bit of cleaning left to do."

Y/N cookie didn't even wanna ask what he was trying to imply. They tried stepping back again-

"!?!"

When they were stopped by some other cookie holding onto them from behind. They tried to scream, but the cookie slapped a cloth over their mouth. Their struggles started decreasing as they realized the cloth had been doused in chloroform. Soon the poor cookie had been knocked out cold and the cookie behind them, who was actually a maid, dropped their unconscious limp body to the floor. The butler joined her and both took Y/N cookie to their room, leaving them in a way that looked like they hung themselves in the closet and ultimately killing them.

Blueberry Milk cookie was worried when his assistant didn't come for work today. Something was wrong, very wrong. When he asked the maids and butlers where Y/N cookie might've been, all denied any knowledge of knowing. However, he could feel that one- no, two of them were lying. He knocked at their bedroom door.

"Y/N cookie? Y/N cookie, are you there? Is everything ok?"

No response.

"Alright, I'm coming in then. I'm gonna just hope for both our sakes you're decent."

He entered. Upon seeing that they weren't in sight, he decided to check around a bit. He checked by the bed, in the bathroom, by the closet-

"?!?-"

He froze. This wasn't happening. It wasn't happening. "Y/N COOKIE!!!"

He quickly and carefully brought the limp cold body down from where it had been hung and laid it on the floor in a panic. He tried getting a response, feeling for a pulse, doing cpr, EVERYTHING! But they never made a sound. They never moved. They never opened their eyes. They were gone.

"No... no no no no no no no- Don't do this to me Y/N cookie! This- this isn't funny!... Please... You can't- you can't be dead! You can't! You-... you..."

As the gravity of what happened settled in, he broke down in tears, hugging the lifeless body of his assistant. How... How could this be happening... Why... Why was this happening... they couldn't be dead... He wasn't gonna believe it. He can't believe it.

"You're not dead..." he whispered to himself.

"You're not dead- you're just... sleeping... Yeah... yeah, you're sleeping!"

The broken cookie was now lying to himself. He kept going. Kept insisting they were still alive, that they were still there. This lie became a delusion for him. When he finds out who dare trick them into thinking Y/N cookie died- oh he won't even give them a chance to explain! Heck- did it matter anymore if they're still alive? They ARE still alive! And this time he will protect them from the other cookies! The only way to make sure nobody ever hurt his assistant again was by making sure he controlled EVERYTHING they did. Yeah... Yeah! He'd control them and make sure they'd never hurt Y/N cookie again!

As for Y/N cookie, they were kept in a special room where their dough would never crumble or mold. A place where they could live forever. A place to stay until Blueberry Shadow Milk cookie could wake them up.

If they could ever wake up that is.

#crk #cookie run kingdom #cr kingdom #cookie run #crk x reader #shadow milk cookie

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kkami-writes · 1 year ago

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waiting for us ― chapter nine. avoidance cw: semi non-graphic domestic abuse, implied/referenced self-harm (although both are brief, please don't trigger yourself! I'll include a tl;dr at the end so you know what happened.) ↝ wc: 1.2k previous | masterlist | next waiting for us taglist. (29/50) @abbiestearsricochet @sanriiolino @boo-ven9eance @melleus @lenilla15 @adorawritesalot @inlovewithallmusic @soulphoenix1618 @alnex05 @borahae-reads @zonked-times @httphans @yoonrimin @sunoosult @slay-and-gay @itz-not-me-guys @jihanniee @berrybearbear @lovelixie @katsukis1wife @aksoace @realrintaro @0325tiny @adestayskz @minhwa @littleaprilcherryblossom @soobery @luvvvash @lillithathecat @ilychee08 @everglowdaisies @boi-bi-ahaha @yandere-stories

You hated that you enjoyed your time with Jeongin, that you had felt comfortable and safe in his presence. You had to remind yourself several times that you couldn’t get too close, too attached because it was gonna hurt when you inevitably had to leave.

Yet here you were, letting him walk you towards the parking lot, trying not to get lost in his dimples that threaten to suck you in. You could tell that you were already so screwed. His voice breaks you out of your never ending cycle of thoughts.

“Noona, have you found your soulmate?” You tense up at the question, an unpleasant shiver going down your spine.

“Oh. No, um. I’m a blank,” It’s the same lie you tell everyone, so why does your chest suddenly ache as the words leave your mouth? You know why but it’s something you refuse to admit.

Jeongin frowns at your words. He doesn’t want to think you’re a liar of course, you must have your reasons for not telling the truth. But he knows it’s a lie. Even if you weren’t their soulmate (something he didn’t want to think about), you definitely had one. Fate would be too cruel to deny someone as beautiful as you, your other half. Jeongin wishes it was him. He so badly wants you to be his soulmate, their soulmate. More than anything.

He goes to open his mouth to say something but a loud shout of your name stops him and both of you turn towards the sound. You flinch, your blood running cold as you watch your brother walk up to you. He looks calm but you can see the anger in his eyes. You had planned to ditch Jeongin closer to the parking lot so your brother didn’t see you with someone, it seems though you had been late, leaving the man impatient.

You wished he had just made good on his threat to just leave you there, to walk a half hour to get back home instead.

“Mio, I’ve been waiting,”

“S-sorry. I was just um. Sorry, let’s go. See you later Jeongin,” You don’t even look back at Jeongin, walking straight forward and even leaving your brother behind, all too eager to get out of this uncomfortable situation.

He glances at Jeongin, nodding his head in acknowledgment before leaving without a word. Jeongin blinks, processing the confusing interaction for a second. He realizes that he didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye to you, instead watching as you get smaller and smaller, ignoring the empty feeling he gets in his chest.

The car ride home is deadly silent, your brother not having said a single word since he slipped into the driver's seat. It fills you with relief that he doesn’t ask, but you know that it’s not a good thing that he hasn’t said a word, knuckles turning almost white from how hard he’s gripping at the steering wheel.

When you arrive home you hope that he’ll continue to ignore you but he grips onto your wrist before you can run away. His fingers bruising your skin easily as he holds you in place, glaring down at you.

“who the fuck was that huh?”

“no one. he’s just my lab partner— we were going over homework,”

“doesn’t explain why he was with you still,”

“He was just being nice, walking me to the parking lot,”

“You two looked awfully cozy. Is that why you were late? Too busy being a whore?”

You’re silent, gritting your teeth but your brother doesn’t take your silence well as he strikes you across the face. You barely make a sound, all too used to this.

“Whatever. Stay away from him, got it? I better not catch you with any boys anymore,”

With that, the conversation is over as he throws your hand down and stomps off to wherever it is he goes when he’s pissed at you.

In silence you make your way to your room, throwing your bag down onto your bed in pure frustration, slamming the door behind you before sliding down it. You’re gripping at your hair, feeling your body go numb from the pain of trying to hold everything in, but from meeting three of your soulmates recently and now this— it’s all too overwhelming. The stinging pain from your cheek slowly dissipates but you know there’s gonna be a small bruise at least.

You come up to dig through your bag until you find what you’re looking for, a small pocket knife you keep on you at all times. For now, you’d have to cope in the only way you know how to.

You’re glad to not have bio again until friday, being able to avoid Jeongin easily with how big campus was. But of course, fate loves to fuck with you which is why you’re somehow not surprised that you come face to face with him at the coffee cart for your daily fix of caffeine. He waves over at you with a smile but you duck and move to go the other way, coffee not worth having to talk to him right now.

Jeongin frowns, a brief pang hitting his heart as you blatantly ignore him. He knows he shouldn’t run after you but he can’t help it, finding his feet chasing after you before he can stop them.

He’s calling out for you but you continue to pretend not to hear him, hating the fact that he’s making a scene. Of course, with his long legs he catches up to you in no time, reaching out for you as he grasps at your forearm.

You flinch, his hands wrapped around your new wounds and you all but yank your arm out of his grip, clutching it to your chest, face scrunched up in mild pain. He frowns at your reaction and before he knows it, he’s grabbing at your hand again, this time rolling up your sleeve.

Jeongin’s heart shatters as he sees the all too familiar scars littered on the inside of your wrists. A few of them are fresh, just barely scabbing over and red.

When he looks up at you with a sad look you’re still in a state of shock at what had just occurred. You snap out of it and pull your hand away again, though this time you’re furious and completely baffled by his audacity.

You turn again to walk away and thankfully Jeongin doesn’t pull you back but he still follows after you.

“Mio please, talk to me. What happened?”

You’re still feeling entirely too much, it’s all too overwhelming so it’s not really all that surprising to you that you snap. “Just go away! Who do you think you are? You don’t know me and I don’t know you. We’re just fucking lab partners Jeongin. Don’t act like we’re all suddenly buddy-buddy, ok? Just leave me the hell alone,”

You yell, probably a lot louder than you should have but it gets the point across and this time Jeongin lets you leave. He watches you walk away for the second time in two days, his heart a jumbled mess and his eyes glossy with unshed tears.

TL;DR !! YN's brother catches her with Jeongin. Once home, he slaps her across the face and warns her to stay away from him and boys in general. YN's feeling overwhelmed by everything and SH's as her only way to cope. She sees Jeongin the next day but she tries to avoid him only for him to grab onto her. She flinches, which he notices and pulls up her sleeves to see her recent SH scars. YN gets mad and yells at him before leaving.

#stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids social media au #stray kids smau #skz x reader #skz social media au #skz smau #stray kids angst #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids reactions

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hestzhyen · 2 months ago

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Analysis: Hakuri & Abusive Backstories

Hello dear void. Hakuri is a character that is near and dear to my heart so I wanted to yap about him and why his story is so important to me on a deeply personal level.

This is a LONG yapfest- the Tumblr Edit Post UI is hitching and lagging while I try to type this little notice there's so much word vomit in here. I honestly don't expect anyone to read it all the way through. I just wrote this to figure out why I was so goddamn attached to a fictional character. I spent too many hours on this to just delete it all once I found my answers though, so... if you wanna strap in, go ahead. But maybe make sure you've got a decent chunk of free time and high tolerance for extremely subjective interpretations first.

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DISCLAIMER: This is purely my opinion- I can't speak for anyone's experience but my own.

First, this isn't a trauma dump. Not for me at least. I'll be talking about what Hakuri endured and how it shaped his character in relatable ways thanks to the quality of the writing. But there won't be anything discussed outside of what happens in Kagurabachi canon, so rest assured on that front.

Second, fictional characters don't have to be 1:1 mirrors in terms of type or severity of trauma the reader experienced themselves to be helpful self-reflection tools. Please take care if you choose to read this, and make sure you're in a good frame of mind if parts of Hakuri's struggle could send you into darker places.

Third, I started writing this around chapter 53 and it's being posted as of chapter 58. If it ages poorly, well, I'm not saying I'm smart just because I yap a lot.

Without further ado... prepare for an expansion of massive proportions under the cut.

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All too often we see shounen characters have an abusive sob story background to give them a sympathetic hook and a reason to start from zero. There's little to say about them other than they go from zero to hero for the good vibes and catharsis. They begin their story as a victim first and foremost, and there are little or no lingering effects from trauma once they have their moment of triumph. In the "good" cases they're healed and whole. In the "bad" cases they have negatively warped personalities for the rest of the story. There's not much in between the two extremes.

Portraying the abuse characters endure in such a shallow way is not the best way to write about it, from my point of view. Writing it as something that can be overcome with strength of will alone is harmful. So is writing the victim as a permanently damaged, defective person. Instead, we need more characters like Hakuri that are shaped but not wholly defined by their abuse, and aren't completely healed by putting the manifestation of their torment in the dirt.

Hakuri is the first character the [abusive past] attribute that actually worked as a hook for me. This is largely due to two key writing decisions: not centering Hakuri's entire narrative around overcoming the abuse he suffered, and carefully depicting how trauma influences his actions. It's necessary to read between the lines of what he says and does to see how much he hasn't said about himself- what he won't admit or recognize, despite how core it is to his character.

Chapters 19-23, Meeting and Getting to Know Sazanami Hakuri

Mantis imagery for courage!

The very first things we learn about Hakuri are as follows:

1) He pushes through hardship with sheer force of will 2) He lost his whole family and has probably been on his own for a while 3) #1 is a lie

I've brought it up before, but food symbolism is all over the place in Kagurabachi- it's often a short-hand for comfort and connection. So Hakuri spilling that metaphor out of his mouth right after telling us he's able to "push through" is a sign that he actually isn't coping with his situation that well. His thoughts about himself and his actual status don't match up. But it's ridiculous imagery that puts us off and pushes us towards thinking he's kind of pathetic rather than making us feel sorry for him. And the rest of his introduction, while accurate to his character, buries the lede on how much he's suffering.

As for his backstory: he was disowned, yes. He says his family will kill him if they see him, yes. But it reads more like Hakuri was punished for being a moral black sheep after he himself framed being disowned as punishment for "being weak" and "getting in the way of business". There's no hint of foul play on his family's part other than being low-life criminals to be fought as the arc villains. So he's primed for some sadness but probably nothing on Char's level. The only hints we have towards something serious until the chapter 24 reveal are not exactly obvious:

-He has a fatalistic mindset and thinks it's natural for him to be overpowered and kicked around because he's weak. (Could just be typical zero-to-hero shounen character things.)

-He's generally unafraid and highly tolerant of pain. He gives no shits about his condition after being kicked around by the Yakuza, smears the blood from his nose while casually talking to Chihiro, and willingly takes a strong hit and is able to yell encouragement to Chihiro while lying bloody on the floor. (Doesn't really stand out in a series as violent as Kagurabachi; this is kind of the bare minimum for being involved in the plot if you aren't a child to be protected.)

-Perhaps the only big tell-tale sign: we zoom in on his trembling fist when describing his older siblings as "strong and scary" in chapter 23. (Could be inferred as fearing for his life since he also says they'd kill him on sight in the same chapter.)

Hakuri's not written like a typical abuse victim in this intro. We don't get commentary from other characters about how much pain Hakuri seems to be in- they comment on how weak and dopey he appears instead. Nor do we get shots of him looking sad, flinching away from touch, or being hesitant to connect with other people. He's actually kind of unhinged with how passionate and eager he is to join forces with Chihiro. He's intense and ridiculous and gets used like a wholesome gag character more than anything else.

So there's not much to suspect here. Hakuri's got more to reveal to us but there are no signs of what we should brace ourselves for. Then the nightmare starts.

Chs. 24-26, The First Glimpse

This page goes from 0 to 100 REAL quick.

Well, shit.

Behold the understated reveal of Hakuri's status as a victim of abuse. The revelation at the bottom of the page only to see his suicide attempt on the page turn is an extremely effective "oh shit- OH SHIT-" two-hit combo that arrests the reader's attention, and I really wish that it was the most memorable part of the chapter for more people. Because holy hell, this recontextualizes everything we know about Hakuri. He's still a passionate, silly, and slightly insane guy, but damn he actually suffered more than he let on.

To find out like this is unusual, isn't it? Char's situation wasn't shown right away either, but meeting her as a scruffy orphan clued us in that she was going to have a tough past from the start. Hakuri, by comparison, gave us very few obvious hints about it. It's like he doesn't want to be seen that way. He openly admits to being "weak" and "useless" but his own pain? The suffering he endured? He's totally fine pushing past it all (lies).

But we're not even close to done yet.

Note how Hakuri's focused on Soya's hands...

Hakuri's first instinct being to jump to his death says a lot. Unlike standing up for the little girl or jumping in to save Chihiro, this is a purely reactionary response. There's no room to think back to Chihiro's bravery for inspiration as those memories overwhelm him. He's terrified. So he jumps and trembles in fear as Soya tries to talk him into coming back to relive his nightmares.

We laughed at the soda spilling out of his mouth and his expressions after he got hit in the face by Hiyuki, but this is deadly serious. Hakuri isn't okay at all. He's actually in very bad condition and the way he thinks about Soya says so much.

The panel explaining Soya's expression of "love" on the page above is important, but it's not emphasized in the same way as what's happening in the present. It feels like an unpleasant detour into Hakuri's inner thoughts for extra context while the main focus is on him and Soya in the moment. Hakuri doesn't even describe what happened to him directly- he says "punching and kicking" like it could be anything from hazing to broken bones, but the backdrop lets us know that it's probably closer to the latter. It gives the impression that Hakuri (understandably) doesn't want to think about this at all.

He also frames Soya's aggression towards him as an expression of "sincere" affection. That's preposterous and heart-breaking to most people- violence isn't love. Even most victims will acknowledge that... to a point. Violence hurts, it's unwanted, but it's still a valid expression of emotion to be acknowledged. It's something they earn or deserve. The rational people are correctly screaming NO IT'S NOT! And most victims would agree again... to a point. Somehow they're the exception to that mindset. Other people don't deserve it, but they do.

So despite it all, Hakuri is still able to be brave for Hinao's sake. He's not going to let Soya hurt anyone else if he can help it, even if it means putting himself back in harm's way. This adds an interesting layer to his character. He's laden with trauma, but he's still able to show courage for others. He thinks he's weak and won't prevent whatever abuse comes his way, but he will put himself at risk to stop others from experiencing the same or worse.

Why is he so devoted to protecting other people at his own expense? Sadly, it's not uncommon for victims to advocate harder for other people than they do for themselves. It also has something to do with the merchandise woman that was mentioned this chapter, but that reasoning won't be revealed for a while yet.

"This pathetic wretch was born a Sazanami, but he can't even do sorcery. He's useless. Worse, he's a hindrance. His life is worthless."

There's another thrill of panic when Kyora summons Hakuri to use his life as a bargaining chip. Hakuri's at his most pathetic here- he's on the ground, helpless under Kyora's foot, not even trying to resist or escape. None of the fire we saw when he saved the little girl, took that hit for Chihiro, or defended Hinao is present. Hakuri can't be brave for himself. He's quite literally trampled by what passes for the Sazanami version of "love" and "basic human decency". It doesn't need to be spelled out any clearer than this: Hakuri's woes come from his family, especially his father. The Sazanamis are fucked up even when it comes to how they treat their own flesh and blood. They're rotten from the head down.

It's obvious then why Chihiro's words and actions affect Hakuri so much. Hakuri thinks he has no value whatsoever- his father says as much, and he falls for Shiba's bluff implying the same. Only Chihiro steps in to directly repudiate Kyora's toxicity and say yes, Hakuri does have value. So much, in fact, that he's willing to trade the precious memento of his father (and the majority of his strength) to prove it. So they're able to leave, but not without Hakuri encumbering himself with a huge amount of guilt for how things went down.

The face of someone ready to spiral down and out.

It's telling that reassurances don't do much to help Hakuri feel better. Shiba tries to help by offering generic comfort (ice cream) and Chihiro tells him it's alright, but it's not until Hakuri hears that he's still needed that he's able to bring himself out of the mire of self-hate.

Of course it's extra effective for Hakuri because he was considered totally useless, but this is very relatable even for folks who weren't told they had no value on a daily basis. Offers of comfort only make the self-hate worse for some people who think they're utterly worthless. Even simple gestures like Shiba's twist the knife and reinforce the idea that the person doesn't deserve any kindness whatsoever. It just piles on the guilt. But being given something to do -especially if it's believably framed as something only they're capable of doing- feels incredible. They might have some value after all, even if only for this one thing.

It's something that I really appreciate the author doing since it's a touch that didn't need to be added. Hakuri could have just found a bit of solace in Shiba and Chihiro's words, which would have given more time for other things to be addressed in the chapter. But it's important to show that Hakuri struggles with accepting kindness because he took his father's words to heart. His feelings of worthlessness and uselessness are essential to who he is.

After this we see him at Chihiro's beck and call, prioritizing his requests over everything- relaxing with Char and Hinao, even his own comfort with another ice cream/food metaphor. It's framed as something silly and dog-like for the laughs, which once again encourages us to downplay the severity of this issue for him. None of the other characters ever directly point this out either. It's one of those informed traits that influences Hakuri's actions without any acknowledgment from himself or others, but just like the soda spilling out of his mouth, we're invited to treat it as a gag.

From here, the focus shifts entirely to building tension for the raid on the Rakuzaichi. Hakuri's circumstances are put on the back-burner to simmer for 5 weeks in real time until he confronts Soya in chapter 30.

Chs. 30 & 32-34, The Soya Rematch (what Chihiro and Shiba know):

Hakuri puts his fear of Soya aside to bait him out to help the mission. Chihiro and Shiba gave him a job to do, so he'll see it through no matter what. Unfortunately things don't go as planned and he ends up all alone with his biggest tormentor.

I'll have more to say about Soya himself in his own section with Kyora later, but it's very clear what his role as Chief Bully is, narratively speaking:

In a lot of ways, Soya is more object than actual character. He's our almost cartoonishly evil device to represent everything that's been repressing Hakuri. He's the demon in his head telling him he's useless, pathetic, weak, and so on. So Hakuri trying to square up to Soya is also him facing off against the things he's internalized that hold him back.

Hakuri's struggle against Soya before he awakens seems very hopeful and standard shounen. He's fighting the internal battle at the same time as the external, telling his brother to "shut up" while his mind races to figure out what he should do now that the situation went belly-up. He could keep playing the victim and take Shiba up on his offer to help since he can't reach Chihiro, or he could play dead and wait for it all to be over... or he could try believing in himself. Because Chihiro saw something in him and even if he can't bring himself to think he's strong and capable, he can at least have faith in Chihiro's words that they would end the Rakuzaichi together.

This time it works and he's able to shove Soya close enough to the tree wall so that Chihiro can give us a great visual metaphor to show us what just happened to Hakuri:

Chihiro is the one who broke Hakuri's mental barrier for him. He couldn't do it himself, but someone he admired believing in him in return made all the difference. Hakuri just needed a little support to start coming into his own.

He stays behind to handle the rest of the fight on his own while Chihiro goes ahead to meet up with Shiba- he can do this himself now that he's awakened thanks to their help. Very wholesome, extremely shounen. But there are deliberate writing choices which make it obvious that there's more going on beyond the surface that winning this fight won't fix or even fully address.

In Chapter 32, Hakuri tells Chihiro and Shiba a slightly condensed version of his experience as an uncomfortable reminder for the reader. Oh, right, Hakuri was abused- at least that explains why he survived a Flame Bone punch to the face. Anyway, let's move on to ditching John Hishaku and kicking Soya's ass.

The framing is so interesting to me. Chapter 32 uses preexisting panels that are cropped and presented slightly differently compared to how they originally appeared: Ch. 24

Ch. 32

Full page for reference.

When Hakuri recounts a version of the abuse flashbacks, they're not merely downsized to fit. They're cropped to downplay the gang-ups and are smaller in size compared to the rest of his story, almost as if he doesn't think it's that big of a deal compared to being unable to keep up with his siblings. We don't even see his own words describing what happened despite him talking freely about everything else. Instead, the abuse sequence is treated like the panel where he describes Soya's "love"- Hakuri talking to Chihiro and Shiba about his suffering is an unpleasant aside to give context rather than the main event.

Seriously. The dialogue of him explaining why his family gave up on him over the reused backdrop of the Sazanami estate is given more time than him being hit and kicked. Chihiro and Shiba get the "it wasn't so bad" version of events compared to what Hakuri remembers experiencing, and we're invited to treat what's normally the foundation of a character's entire existence as a convenient explanation for why he's so goddamn sturdy.

Neither of them noticeably react to his story too. We got a bit from Shiba in the car in Chapter 26 when he realized Hakuri was probably stewing in self-hatred, but we've never seen any of Chihiro's thoughts or reactions since he was disgusted by Kyora using Hakuri as a bargaining chip. He does reassure Hakuri that they'll be there to help him, but isn't it strange we don't see Chihiro's reaction to this information at all? We see little panels of his concerned faces all the time for less than what Hakuri talked about here:

Chihiro cares a hell of a lot, and he's very attentive to boot.

Obviously we don't see Chihiro and Shiba's reactions because they aren't important. This isn't about Hakuri's abuse- we already knew about it. The focus is on Hakuri's awakening and his faith in Chihiro, not the past.

This is a victim's mindset manifesting as clever visual storytelling, in my opinion. Of course it's not that bad when he has to talk about it; he invited it by being weak and not living up to standards. It wasn't a big deal though. There's more important stuff to do right now anyway. And the story moves on as if to agree with him- we go right back to our regularly scheduled action scenes interspersed with some flashbacks to contextualize other characters, namely Tenri and the Sazanamis before Hakuri was rejected.

That's right, Hakuri once again dodges abusive past cliches by being doted on and cared for before he was found lacking. He knew what it was to be loved, even if the Sazanami version is manipulative to the point of being abusive all by itself. There's more to say about this under Kyora's section but no wonder Hakuri's so fixated on being useful- he wants that affection and sense of belonging back more than anything. It's fucked up, but it's all he knows. So Hakuri was abused twice over: emotionally and physically. Damn. He turned out pretty alright despite it all, huh? Wonder how that happened...

Well, it's time to move on now so he can ascend and overcome it all. He's gotta yell "Isou!" and prove himself, and the next two chapters seem to be putting him on course to do just that, albeit with some difficulty. Can't make a character's awakening too easy or it won't feel earned. He's got some serious trauma to overcome thanks to his family's bullshit.

Then chapter 35 hits and we get the nightmare fuel.

Ch. 35, The Real Backstory (what Ice Lady knew):

Chapter 35 is that long-awaited full-chapter delve into Hakuri's painful past with the mysterious woman, and boy does it have some unsettling revelations.

Ice Lady's tragedy is framed as the important driving force for Hakuri as we know him- she broke him free from his family's grip and motivated him to seek help to end their evil ways. She's the entire reason we meet him in Chapter 19. Everything Hakuri is doing this arc ties back to how badly he fucked up with her, setting the stage for him to become the savior he tried to be when we met him. Oh yeah, we got more Hakuri abuse lore. Can you believe that WSJ let the author get away with showing someone slitting their throat in front of a kid?! And make it at least partially his fault? Jesus Christ. Now it's truly time for him to come into his own, though- oh man that cliffhanger at the end of the chapter...! Wait, what do you mean there was more to his suffering besides the situation with Ice Lady?

I was being a bit facetious there but the point stands. We didn't get a tear-jerker reveal chapter dedicated solely to Hakuri's pain and suffering at long last just to make us feel bad for him and nothing else. Instead, we got a full-blown tragedy caused by the Sazanami cycle of abuse. The nightmare of Ice Lady killing herself in front of Hakuri overshadowed the reveal that damn, Hakuri actually had it super rough. Because yeah, that was unexpectedly brutal even compared to Chihiro being baited with Char's severed leg last arc. It really drove home just how fucked up the situation with the Sazanami family was and how it affected everyone that got tangled up in their bullshit.

So the presentation of what he endured is once again subdued even though the panels showcasing the tools took up half the page. Soya breaking Hakuri's finger was called "bullying" (いじめ[ijime], not 虐待 [gyakutai, abuse]). A single flash back frame off to the side seems small compared to the emphasis on Hakuri telling Ice Lady (and us) that it's "not that bad" because Soya keeps losing the tools and going back to using his fists (the terror in Hakuri's expression in that panel is completely at odds with how calm is explanation is, though). It's also not unreasonable to presume that the jump rope, peeler, and wrench were shown for the audience's benefit to clue us in that Hakuri's holding back again, much like the panel describing Soya's "love" in chapter 24. He's always saying the bare minimum and trying not to think of the rest- he buries that shit deep.

But he has to if he wants to keep going. There's no way he can sit down and process all of this right now:

Hakuri: "It's normal for my brother to break my bones and worse before he loses the tools. He usually only hits me anyway, so it's not like this happens all the time."

Woman betrayed by the man she loved to be sold at an auction as merchandise to the boy overseeing her captivity: "That's messed up!"

"This is as close as I can get to being cherished by the people who are supposed to care for and support me."

He even misses the point when he finally does open up:

"You're the one who's trapped in a cage."

This part is the hardest for me to write about, honestly. Again: I was never tortured or anything, much less hit. But this chapter is the one that made me take a good, hard look at what I went through and connect some dots. Hakuri's mindset, the things he says, the way he phrases things- that's someone who doesn't want to acknowledge that they're in a bad situation that's not their fault.

Hakuri will talk about his own worthlessness and all his defects that "invite" the abuse, but he won't acknowledge that he doesn't deserve what's happening to him at all. He's not the kind of shounen character who understands that his situation sucks and uses it as fuel to become better. Instead, he's stuck in that oh-so-relatable spiral of self-deprecating negativity that keeps victims trapped.

It's easier for Hakuri to think he deserved it for his own failings. This wouldn't be happening if he hadn't earned it somehow. He's in this situation because he's weak and any "love" is better than none at all. Then it's reinforced by the genuine helplessness and vulnerability of being too isolated to escape or know better, compacting down into dense layers of denial and self-hate that act as defensive armour against emotions that are too difficult to face. Like anger or the desire for something better. Like hope. Those are only felt on behalf of others, not himself.

At any rate, it's a bit distressing that so many people forget that Hakuri's actually a hell of a lot more complex than he was hinted to be before this chapter. He's not an innocent in all this like Char was, which is incredibly smart and realistic writing from the author. Hakuri was also an abuser himself. An accidental one, but doesn't matter when you talk to someone the way he did to Ice Lady. He didn't swing the knife but he did kill her with the same mentality that was crushing him down on the inside.

He doesn't use his suffering as an excuse for anything he does, good or bad. Not even in the sense of wanting to save others- that's all about Ice Lady and his family's terrible legacy. What happened to him isn't worth mentioning or acting on. Yet another distressingly accurate facet of a victim's mentality, unfortunately.

But this must be it. This chapter was a depressing surprise but surely there's nothing left to reveal. We had his big moment of sadness so it's only going up from here. Hakuri's going to overcome everything and it'll all be okay! Back to standard shounen powerups!

Chs. 36-43, Putting the Past to Rest (things only Hakuri knows):

Oh.

In chapter 36, the storehouse reveal somewhat overshadows all the instruments of abuse Hakuri unwittingly stored inside it. There are a lot of people who completely forgot about the objects in there during the hype of the moment, and I never get tired of seeing "WTF?!" posts and comments from folks doing re-reads of the arc. It's so easy to overlook the rope and sticks and all the other tools when you're cheering hard for Hakuri to finally, finally overcome his tragic past by putting Soya down. Worst Big Bro is gonna pay and Hakuri's ascension will be complete! ... Wait, was that a goddamn chair?

There's also a point made of Soya's defeat not being a resounding victory.

Still framing Soya's abuse as love, but it's got a bitter feel to it this time.

Hakuri is the one who gives Chihiro strength in the moment despite everything he's just been through.

We're cheering when he awakens and pressurizes Soya's guts, but then these panels remind us that there's nothing to celebrate from Hakuri's perspective. He doesn't savor finally overcoming Soya as his abuser or the manifestation of everything that's messed up about his family. There's no immediate sense that things will be okay from now on either. To Hakuri, this isn't a personal victory. It's just something that needed to be done for Ice Lady and all the victims of the Rakuzaichi.

This is a sort of capstone to Hakuri's backstory. The second-to-last new thing we learn about him is that the abuse was still somehow worse than we thought. He really, truly buries the lede when it comes to what he suffered and the writing is in cahoots with him on it. He won't even take the time to smile or feel a little relief- he's not ready for that yet. Instead he just walks past Tenri's mutilated corpse to pull Chihiro along to get the job done.

If this was a different series we might get a little more catharsis- even just the barest hint that Hakuri's gonna be just fine from now on. But this is Kagurabachi and the author fucking gets it so there's still a little more to unpack before Hakuri can have an opportunity to begin the healing process.

In chapter 37, the pain of Kyora looking away was framed as just as important to Hakuri as the fond memories of when he was loved and wanted:

"... I still wanted you to praise me, Father."

The very last thing we learn about Hakuri is that he wanted his father's love despite it all.

Hakuri ended the torment from Soya- he'll never have to worry about his skin being peeled off or getting beaten with a pipe ever again. But the cycle that caused it- and the complex feelings for the people who hurt him- aren't so easily dealt with. It's not so simple as being hurt and flipping a switch to stop feeling affection for the perpetrator. So Hakuri acknowledges that he still wanted his father's praise in spite of the years of torment the man knowingly enabled.

In the end, Kyora grants Hakuri's secret wish and acknowledges him at the very last as the chaos fades away so that they're the only thing in each other's view. He really, truly won it all. He doesn't rejoice in victory, though. Once more there's no triumph for Hakuri to celebrate. Killing his father was just another thing that had to be done so that there would never be another Ice Lady.

It's hard to say what exactly Hakuri's feeling about Kyora's death since it's yet another thing we haven't seen him talk about- and may never. It's not too much of a stretch to think he's got a complex mix of sadness, relief, and guilt going on, though. At least the moment when their eyes met was intensely cathartic after all the times Kyora deliberately looked away. But Hakuri's still not okay yet.

It's not like life suddenly gets better when the abuser is gone for good in some cases. Hakuri's still struggling in the immediate aftermath of seeing his father die at last. It's a relief that there won't be any more pain caused by the Sazanami clan -and Kyora in particular- but it still fucking hurts to lose someone so important to you. It's also frightening to suddenly be thrust into the unknown without a guide of any kind.

Fortunately for him, Hakuri is able to find new purpose with Chihiro. He gets to walk away from his family and stay with the people who believed in him. This is another thing that I can't praise the author enough for. It's far, far too common for writers to frame victims reforming their abusers as some kind of ultimate victory.

No, no, no!

The most charitable way to explain this is that the survivor is so saintly that they'll even reach out to the ones who hurt them to help them become better people. But that is such utter bullshit I don't even have the words to express myself properly. It's terrible messaging for survivors. They don't have any obligation whatsoever to help the people who hurt them. They don't even have to keep tabs on how the abusers are doing in a general sense. They get to fucking leave and find happiness with people who treat them well. That is the true ideal.

Hakuri being given a clear out to leave is where the rest of the catharsis in his story comes from. He doesn't have to stay and fix things even though he absolutely could as the first person since the clan's founder to have both Isou and the storehouse powers. Kyoura and Soya are gone- he could have stepped in to make the clan right their wrongs and atone as a family. But there's not even a hint of guilt tripping from the author about Hakuri's decision to follow Chihiro. It's framed as the best possible thing for him to do, in fact.

If he stayed, he'd never work on the other issues around self-worth that he's burying so deep inside. Switching from villainy to good deeds won't resolve the issues with the clan's mindset about being living tools for a greater cause either. Not to mention the fact that there's nothing his siblings can offer him even if they treat him like a king for the rest of his life- the damage was already done long ago. There's nothing left for him there except more misery and stagnation. He needs to go with Chihiro, his new north star, to learn how to heal.

But lest this outcome be too heartwarming, Hakuri's still not directly facing everything that he went through. Hakuri phrases working alongside Chihiro as "proving the value that [Chihiro] saw in him", not "starting over" or "making the world a better place together" or even "paying Chihiro back" by helping him on his mission. He's still trying to be useful in the service of someone else like a tool.

Hakuri's bruises are already fading; or at least they were until I had to edit this part in light of the events of chapter 56 onward. But the mental scars of the abuse are still guiding his actions and thought processes even if he doesn't acknowledge it. And that's where we come back to the torture implements still hidden in his warehouse.

Hakuri's not home free despite us collectively sighing in relief that he got his Happily Ever After, subdued as it was. He needs to face what he's been avoiding and burying so that he's not endangering Chihiro's plan and the people around him by throwing himself in danger just to be even the slightest bit useful.

Oftentimes, trauma is an invisible scar that needs to be worked around for the rest of someone's life- hence why he's still got those physical manifestations stored deep inside where only he can see and grant access. Hakuri's only just started out on the path to redemption and recovery. He needs to start addressing the guilt over Ice Lady and learn some tough lessons about self-worth before he can even begin to look further inside to those Visual Metaphor Tools.

After that, if the author's interested in continuing this part of Hakuri's character, is exposing them and what they mean to someone who can help Hakuri get rid of them. Whether that's Chihiro, Shiba, or someone else doesn't really matter. Hakuri's got a long road ahead dealing with the lingering after-effects, unlike so many of his fictional fellow survivors. He's still very much in need of a lot of support from his new found family- now more so than ever after what happened in chapter 58.

Soya and Kyora

There's something to be said about the writing for the primary abusers, too. The Rakuzaichi arc was well-received in large part to Kyora being an incredible villain and Soya being... Soya.

Soya

And the "Worst Big Brother" Award goes to...

Soya serves two primary purposes in the narrative: to contrast Hakuri's character, and be the manifestation of everything that was wrong with the clan.

Soya and Hakuri share similar looks, hand gestures, and extreme expressions but they couldn't be more different. Soya has the inverse of Hakuri's character framing: he's shown to be competent and strong, and almost everyone in-universe acknowledges him as such-we're even told he's smarter than Kyora. But he's actually quite the pathetic loser due to his freakish obsession with his "weak" little brother.

More obviously, Soya is the rotten core of the family. He's obsessive over Hakuri to an extremely alarming degree- he even refuses his duties as the next clan head and a member of the elite Tou to find and stay with Hakuri. Kyoura tells him to "stop fixating on that failure" but Soya's having none of it, he just can't let go of his "endearing" weakling of a little brother. Bullying Hakuri is what he lives for and he does it all in the name of purest love. Just like the clan lives for the Rakuzaichi and are devoted to it mind, body, and soul. They're both extremely toxic and Soya's the guy who gets to represent the deleterious effects of cleaving to abusive mentalities on individual members.

Soya's fists and words to Hakuri are the blatant messaging about what the Sazanami mindset did to him. He had that mental block preventing him from using his sorcery because he was constantly being told he was weak and useless. It was literally beaten into him as a form of love, but not all abusive mentalities need to be reinforced with violence. Soya was just there to make the point too obvious to be missed.

Hakuri's final words to Soya say it all. Soya throws a tantrum over Hakuri refusing to lay down and take the abuse any more and screams "Why won't you go down?! Why won't you die?!" Hakuri simply responds that it's because Soya "always loved [him]" and deals the final blow. He was able to recognize the strengths his family gave him through Soya's "love" but he's not grateful in the slightest (and he shouldn't be). He's simply ready to sever all ties and move on with tearing it all down now. Hakuri was finally able to accept that he didn't want or need that kind of love in his life any more.

Kyora

And the "Worst Dad" Award goes to...

Obviously, Kyoura is the key to this whole mess. He's the one who instilled his children with corrupt values, enabled Hakuri's abuse, and generally Fucked Up Big Time when it came to loving his kids properly. But he thought he was doing the right thing because what's what he went through. He was both abuser and victim himself, just like Hakuri.

This is the key part of abusive backstories that are so often missed. Abuse doesn't always come from deadbeat caretakers that hate the innocent little kid. That scenario is actually way too over represented in fiction, honestly. Abuse isn't always constant malice- it can start later in life. It can even be born from love. Ultimately, it's all too often the unintended consequence of a family haunted by the specter of the cycle. And Kyora is the perfect summary of how and why it echoes through generations.

Hakuri was loved and wanted for at least half of his life. His family might not be wholesome or have healthy attitudes about affection, but he wasn't born hated and mistreated just for existing. He was cared for to the best of his dad's ability just like Tenri and his other siblings.

Even when Hakuri failed to live up to expectations, Kyora didn't just write him off and turn him loose. He kept Hakuri around for years feeding and clothing him and let him try to do what he could. Kyora simply couldn't justify protecting him or showing love since the family ideals were so warped around being able to serve the clan's tradition. He wasn't "allowed" to love a failure, no matter how much he wanted to.

Kyoura struggled about his feelings for his "worthless son" in the flashback we saw through Tenri's PoV- he wanted Hakuri to succeed. He acted like Hakuri forced his hand to punish and marginalize him for failing too hard, not out of ill-will. And during the raid itself he was actually "bent out of shape because he used Hakuri's life as a bargaining chip", according to Enji. It wasn't even until Hakuri showed up to break into the storehouse that Kyora truly cast everything away to prioritize the Rakuzaichi. He really did love Hakuri in his own way.

Kyora was a shitty dad and person, don't get me wrong. No one should put family tradition over their child's well-being and he more than earned his death just by being a human trafficker. But it's clear that Kyora wasn't written to be a shallow, irredeemable monster of a person- he didn't exist in the story just to be a villain and to make us feel bad for Hakuri. He's a tragic character in his own right.

He couldn't even understand why his wife's final words about the auction ruining their lives was replaying in his head near his final moments. The what-if scenario of his happy family sitting down to eat dinner in an apartment somewhere showed his longing for something that he could have had, if not for the goddamn auction. If not for the abuse that made him into the person he chose to be until the very end.

It's why Hakuri getting to walk away is such a poignant end to the Rakuzaichi arc. He's the one who gets to break the cycle on his own terms, and that's the true end of the Sazanami dynasty. The auction hall doesn't collapse until he decides to stand tall and follow a new path. Whatever Hakuri's siblings do with the Sazanami legacy isn't his concern any more- he's free.

What About Char?

Char's story was also well told! It's the earliest evidence that the author actually gets it when it comes to depicting abuse victims. She's reticent despite her desperation, unable to open up even when Shiba and Chihiro tell her she needs to or they'll send her to an orphanage. Eventually Chihiro wins her trust through his altruism and she comes to believe in him. She and us are the only ones who know exactly what happened with her mom, but it's not important for the rest of the cast to be in on it. She's safe and happy now and that's enough.

Even though Char's arc ended close to that overly-simplistic "everything is k now" scenario that I hate, there's one key difference that sets it apart to let us know that no, she's not truly okay yet.

Char's still got some attachment issues, which makes perfect sense. She lost her mom in a traumatic way so of course she's happily surprised that Chihiro came back to her. Char's on the path to healing- she's able to thrive thanks to Team Goldfish's care- but her abusive past still shapes who she is in small ways like this.

I doubt we'll see more development of her beyond checking in now and then. She's too young to be consistently involved in the heavy themes of Kagurabachi's story, much less the fights. But it's good to know that the author includes little details like this so we don't assume Char's 100% fine now. He understands that trauma doesn't just vanish when the victim's safe in their Happily Ever After scenario. That's why he made sure we knew that she's going to be okay in the long-run.

Ch. 26, right after Chihiro trades Enten for Hakuri

But Hakuri's not there himself yet.

Food as a metaphor for comfort, security, and/or connection is constant in this series. It's very obvious symbolism to let the author convey a bit more context in the scene than dialogue alone can. So when Hakuri rejects food here, he's rejecting reassurance from Shiba. Meanwhile Char's already comfortable enough to accept it. Good for her, truly!

Hakuri's situation wasn't necessarily worse than hers, but it was a lot more complex. So even though he's safe now, he's not really able to pursue his happiness yet. All those tools he keeps locked up inside, the mindset of being one himself- they're still issues for him to work through. But there's hope for him too.

The author went out of his way to show us that Hakuri's also on the path to healing here. The last time Hakuri shared food with someone, he was forcing his abusive ideology on Ice Lady. She started finishing the meals and truly internalizing the hopelessness of her situation. He fucked up the food as comfort/connection metaphor bad with her.

Yet in Chapter 47, we see Hakuri sharing some snacks with Chihiro on the train. Sharing food isn't connected to the situation at hand or the information dump it's serving as backdrop for, so it's definitely a deliberate choice on the author's part to depict this instead of literally anything else. It was shown to let us know that Hakuri's on his way to his own Happily Ever After.

He's able to connect to Chihiro and not worry about the repercussions. This is a huge step for his character and speaks volumes about the level of trust between them; this is the first time Chihiro's willingly accepted food from someone else too. Hakuri's not only still reaching out to other people, he's still able to provide warmth to others despite it all.

What's Next?

I'm not going to pretend that I can predict what Hakuri's story will look like from here on out. He'll have a hard time for as long as he's slated to get development though- Kagurabachi takes the adage "suffering builds character" very seriously. We're only 58 chapters in as of finally posting this so it's best to strap in and expect a lot more pain.

That said, I feel like Hakuri's self-sacrificing mindset is going to be addressed first. As of chapter 55, he's set up to fail and cause problems by throwing himself into danger despite not being fully healed or rested. The root of this issue would likely be his atoning savior mindset. Hakuri needs to protect and save others very badly after what happened to Ice Lady. He also loathes the idea of others making sacrifices for his sake. So he's willing to throw his life away even when it would be better for his allies if he stayed out of the fighting.

There's also a good reason we met the Makizumi clan in the arc immediately after the Rakuzaichi fell- Hakuri needs to start dismantling the "tool" mindset that was drilled into him. He's only switched his fervor from serving the Rakuzaichi to serving/saving others. This is extremely toxic when combined with his guilt over Ice Lady and drives him to go to extremes to do good, to the point where he's ignoring everyone trying to get him to rest and heal for the sake of the mission if nothing else.

In essence, I believe we are going to finally address the lie of his introduction- that he can keep pushing through hardship with sheer force of will. Because that is not how overcoming trauma actually works.

After that, only the author and his editor know exactly where things will go. But I hope that no matter what happens, Hakuri's lingering trauma is exposed and dealt with. It's informing all of his actions, positive or negative, whether he wants to acknowledge it or not. I have faith that this author can tackle this subject compassionately and realistically- he's already done it twice with Char and the Rakuzaichi arc.

So that's that. If you read all this... thanks. Take care, and choose kindness for yourself for today.

#kagurabachi #sazanami hakuri #Being an abuse survivor isn't the crux of who a person is #But it leaves permanent invisible scars that they define themselves around- knowingly or not #Promise I'll never get this personal again #long post #Only partially fueled by annoyance over how many people don't seem to understand Hakuri's character #He didn't get so much thoughtful and intricate development to be written out or killed off either #This is just my extremely long Hot Take but dammit I'm so tired of people asking why he's still around or why he's pushing himself so hard #Don't get me started on the BS about him “needing” to be nerfed either #Or giving up his sorcery to wield an enchanted blade #Writing another essay in the tags is how we roll around these parts

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goodnightmemes · 4 months ago

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INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE SEASON ONE SENTENCE STARTERS (PART TWO)

episodes: s01e05 - s01e07

❛ I'm trying to think of something more fucked up than this. ❜

❛ Stay out of my head. ❜

❛ I care for him more than he cares for himself. ❜

❛ A whole lot of concern's been wasted on you these past months. ❜

❛ Where are the bodies? ❜

❛ Well, then, I guess you better hope and pray you taught me how to clean up good. ❜

❛ You gonna let him do this to me? ❜

❛I'm never gonna forget what happened here. I hate you both. ❜

❛ Sounds like there's a maniac on the loose. ❜

❛ So much wine in his blood. And beer and whisky. ❜

❛ Happy? We were not happy. ❜

❛ Who am I supposed to love? ❜

❛ Why can't I make one? No matter how much blood I give them, they just lie there gaspin'. ❜

❛ What is this? Look at me. What have you done? ❜

❛ If you could find them, which you won't, they would shred you to strips, because you are built like a bird - because you are a mistake. ❜

❛ He treats us like shit and you take it! Why is that? ❜

❛ Been following you. You ain't been your careful self. ❜

❛ Don't... Don't run off. ❜

❛ Poor dear. She wasn't held enough in between ritualistic murders. ❜

❛ Once you put it out there, they decide what it is. It can get away from you. ❜

❛ Assume we are under suspicion. ❜

❛ We should leave the city, start anew. ❜

❛ Should I do like you instead? Read the first pages of every book, pass myself off as cultured? ❜

❛ You draw me into your gloom. ❜

❛ So, quick stop home to do laundry before you fuck off for good. ❜

❛ If what I've read is lies, then tell me what's true. ❜

❛ The vampires out there are vicious. Oh...but you've learned that already. ❜

❛ Come with me! I thought I could live without you, but I was wrong. ❜

❛ His love is a small box he keeps you in. Don't stay in it. ❜

❛ I fought myself a million times, fought my nature, controlled my temper. I never once harmed you. ❜

❛ Let him go. It's me you want. ❜

❛ Listen to me, and listen very carefully, my infant death. It was never you. ❜

❛ I have patiently waited in vain for you to love me... as I love you. ❜

❛ Just say it. Say, "I am never going to love you". It would help me a great deal to hear that from your lips...your quivering...hateful lips. ❜

❛ Excruciating pain was the proof I was still alive. ❜

❛ You know he's a vampire, right? ❜

❛ NDAs signed by any and all who cross the threshold, eh? ❜

❛ Are you still dreaming about our first meeting? ❜

❛ Are we the sum of our worst moments? Can we be forgiven if we do not forgive others ourselves? ❜

❛ You gonna be my knight in vengeful black? ❜

❛ Save your charity for the needful. ❜

❛ I was someone I don't want to be anymore. I've changed. Let me prove it to you. I'm nothing without you. ❜

❛ If you want me to go away, just say so. I'll obey you. I'll leave your life forever. ❜

❛ This silence is cruel. And you were never cruel. ❜

❛ Write me a song and put your lover's voice on it? What the fuck is wrong with your head? ❜

❛ Put some clothes on and get the fuck out. ❜

❛ The vampire bond. There is no human equivalent. Lover, murderer, maker. ❜

❛ It's a bond that can never fully be severed. A bond like that makes you believe there are only two of you on the planet. ❜

❛ I cried. I called to God. I didn't want this. But I have a capacity for enduring. ❜

❛ We leave the damage so we never forget the damage. ❜

❛ She's grown very protective of me. ❜

❛ I ask these questions because I'm trying to understand you better. ❜

❛ I'm sorry for your losses. ❜

❛ I admire your steadfast pursuit of a game you clearly have no acumen for. ❜

❛ You're ugly when you act like that. ❜

❛ They don't appreciate you like I do. ❜

❛ You're like me. You like to laugh. ❜

❛ Well, now that I'm dead, I can be whoever I want. ❜

❛ I seek refuge from complaints when I visit you, dear. ❜

❛ He's the father of lies. ❜

❛ This life, it does a number on the head, on the soul... if we even have a soul. ❜

❛ When he hurts you again, and he will, come find me. ❜

❛ You don't need me. You think you do, but you don't. You're smarter now. You see trouble coming a mile away. ❜

❛ You left without saying goodbye. Again. ❜

❛ Back in your cage, sweetheart. ❜

❛ We endure each other for [name]’s happiness. ❜

❛ I love you. I don't say it often enough anymore. ❜

❛ You threaten a life which will endure till the end of the world. ❜

❛ Are you a narc? ❜

❛ I want to interview you. ❜

❛ So...question. Can an immortal meet mortality? ❜

❛ We would spend our hours enduring, with little pretense of getting along, locked together in hatred. ❜

❛ Knowledge is the ocean's edge. ❜

❛ They say that Satan lives in this house. ❜

❛ Well, send Saint Peter our regards. ❜

❛ We have to leave this place. ❜

❛ Maybe start by telling me the plan? ❜

❛ You spend an hour alone with him and you're breathing in sync together. ❜

❛ I'll lose myself in him. ❜

❛ You irritate me. Your very presence irritates me. ❜

❛ I came to make peace with you. ❜

❛ No one's comin' to a party thrown by freaks. ❜

❛ You're gonna try to kill him at this party? ❜

❛ I mean, this is all good and... sufficiently creepy. What do you want? ❜

❛ Would you like to know the secret of immortality? ❜

❛ I wanted him dead. I wanted him all to myself. ❜

❛ I'm going to miss this place. ❜

❛ I was his, and he was mine. ❜

❛ Always the petty slights with you. ❜

❛ We are joined by a cord, by a cord that you cannot see, but it is real. It is real. ❜

❛ I have loved you...with all myself. ❜

❛ I'm happy it was you...here with me…at the end. ❜

❛ This horror that had been [name]...I stared helplessly at it. The thing lay still. ❜

❛ Murder? What murder? It was an act of mercy. ❜

❛ You didn't kill him. You spared him, out of some fucked-up idea you had about love. ❜

❛ We have to burn him. It's the only way we'll know! ❜

❛ You don't need a memoir. You need a hundred sessions of EMDR. ❜

❛ You've only heard half the story. ❜

❛ This time, I won't save your life. ❜

#rp memes #rp prompt #sentence starters #sentence meme #roleplay meme #roleplay prompts #rp meme #rp prompts #inbox meme #*tv #*iwtv

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breathlesswordsbloodyknees · 2 months ago

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Narrative Doom

Introduction

I've been playing around in and exploring this space where Sauron as Halbrand was genuinely seeking redemption, trying not to manipulate events but merely nudge them.

In my view, at this point he's in survivalist bed-rotting mode post-goo-form when he meets Galadriel. (I think he's more of an opportunist than a schemer in this era. Not that he doesn't have those schemes, but I think he's pushing those bad bad urges down. I have a web of scenes that I consider in this view for some other day)

I’m building much of this piece on these previous work: (link) (link) (link)

It's led me down some interesting philosophical rabbitholes, and I'd like to share.

Now, important to note, Sauron is a Maia—not a 'human' by any means. He's an ancient spiritual being who doesn’t feel the way us teeny tiny mortals do.

But on a broader scale: Tolkien’s work, like fiction as a whole, reflects and explores the human experience, so we’re riding that train.

All this with the framework of not absolving him for anything that came before or comes after. I plan on expanding into his evil alongside Morgoth and his actions in Season 2 at a later date.

But right now, we’re just exploring this blip of a moment where I consider Sauron could be genuine in repentance.

This is more an analysis of Sauron, but I feel like it has a lot to explore for Haladriel fans. There's some critique of Galadriel's choices here, but I want to make it clear: I'm not assigning blame. More just digging into the complexities.

And, well, I don't think this ship would be as compelling if it didn't have complexities.

Spoilers:

All of TROP S1

Vague themes/lines in TROP S2, mostly from S2E1.

The Good Place spoilers for overall theme and a few season 4 lines, but nothing outright about the plot.

Trigger Warning:

Be warned, I’m going to delve into some dark themes in a very personal way. Including but not limited to abuse cycles, personal trauma, harmful behaviors, and empathy within all of that.

I won’t lie, this work was hard for me. Painful to untangle. I would encourage you to have empathy and compassion for yourself, as well as me, while you read. I tried to put warnings before I go into these themes. Please take care of yourself.

---

To start

Sauron’s narrative, at its simplest, is a cautionary tale: If you let your ambition and drive for power go too far, you turn to evil. Higher values over sinful pleasures. Pride goeth before the fall.

But on a deeper level, being solely a cautionary tale, an overarching villain, a lesson to learn, what does that mean for the complexities of Sauron in The Rings of Power?

Charlie Vickers puts so many layers and so much emotion into his character. Yet he keeps it to a lot of imperceptible movements that, I found out last night, get almost completely lost in low resolution. I can see that being a part of some of the stricter interpretations of Vickers' Sauron. But there’s a vulnerability there that touches on some deeply raw thoughts.

—

So the relentless question in fandom: Does he mean any of it with Galadriel or is he just the Great Deceiver?

I'd like to ask, how much of it is just some deeply relatable ‘human’ behavior? Deflection, defensiveness. Half-truths, twisted truths, fibs.

Because as he says on the raft, he did tell her the truth, that he had done great evil in service of Morgoth. He never lied to her.

(An aside: I personally don’t give the “my ancestor” thing much weight as a true lie, I mean it’s his backstory and he had more reason for it than the Darkling did imho)

But really, who doesn’t try to hide and smooth over the worst ugly evil nasty bits of themselves and their past? We want to shine in the eyes of others—it's a fundamental desire to most.

—

On the other side, touching on influence and ambition:

Aren’t we all trying to sway events and leave an impact in whatever way we’re capable? Don’t we all attempt to sculpt the world like clay? Isn’t that really all we can do in this world?

And don't we often tell ourselves that we’re doing it for a better outcome? Even actions deemed ‘good’ and ‘heroic’ create ripples that have negative impacts, if only just for the orc babies.

I’ve been thinking a lot about orc babies.

—

Galadriel, from their first conversation on the raft in S1E2, backs him into a corner. She’s relentless in her quest for revenge against him and he’s whoops—sitting right there, doing the side eye meme. He’s gotta be self-preservational. And that rings true to me more than outright deceit. (At this point)

But I think over the course of the season, playing as Halbrand, “Lost King of the Southlands”, he’s trying. Trying to be “the hero she seeks”. Trying in the only way he knows how, which is…well, not great, he really toes the line. But he’s trying to ‘choose good every day and choose it again tomorrow’, while he’s on the path she set him on. So it’s a step by step journey towards the light, but the path is ever slippery.

And inevitably, as we know, he fails.

—

So what does that mean for those of us who feel like we’re trapped in the narrative, hurtling toward a doomed end through harmful behaviors we can’t escape? Tied onto the train tracks, staring down what feels like an inevitable fate.

When all you’ve known for ages is subjugation and torment and abuse, what do you become? (Which makes Mairon even more painful, with his origin of beauty and light. Like a whisper of I was once admirable too)

I keep coming back to the image of grooves, well worn. And well, under the influence of an abuser and beyond, I too have done evil.

Holding the good you’ve aspired to and the evil you’ve done in one space; it’s a sharp, heavy feeling like holding coals, like touching a hot pan, something to run and hide from. And looking at my deeply ingrained behaviors from childhood, along with trauma that’s happened throughout my life...I see those grooves echoing in jagged bloody ways that feel comforting, even natural.

For a long while, it’s been the only way I knew how to self-soothe, these behaviors that can cause harm to myself and others. So I’ve been twisting around the question: Can we ever truly be free of the evil we’ve done? If it’s all we’ve ever known, baked and beaten into our bone marrow?

In Sauron’s case, the answer is no. His story unfolds the way it was written. The bad guys perish, the good guys win.

(though there’s the “they meet in Valinor” after canon theory, hope ever shines through)

—

That all brings me into The Good Place and that show’s moral thesis.

Spoilers for The Good Place:

More or less, the show states “people improve when they get external love and support. How can we hold it against them when they don't?” and “What matters isn't if people are good or bad. What matters is if they're trying to be better today than they were yesterday.” (S4E8)

Scanlons’ What We Owe to Each Other and the rabbithole of contractualism that I haven’t fully delved into.

I resonate deeply with what The Good Place says. All with the understanding that you have to put on your own air mask before you help others, don’t set yourself on fire to keep other people warm.

But I do believe we should help each other in what ways we can, rather than writing people off entirely.

So, I struggle with Galadriel’s moments of “shutting the door” being considered wholly empowering. Light prevailing, resisting the allure of darkness and the draw of power. It is indeed all those things, especially for her journey. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t blame her.

But there’s an itching here for me and I have to scratch it.

—

In S1E8, if we’re assuming he’s genuine, he put it all out there in the raft illusion. It was his biggest, his all, his hope. A leap of faith. Real vulnerability with an internal truth that was like holding coals.

He did what was ‘right’. He reached for support, for understanding, for community, What We Owe to Each Other.

(though we can’t ignore the scene before that where he’s wearing Finrod’s face. But I haven’t followed that thread yet).

He made a play for a better future.

And she—light and goodness and holiness in her hair, denied him.

“You are Morgoth’s friend”, “There is no such future.” Boiling him down to his worst parts, reinforcing his worst fears.

Is that all we ever can be?

---

When do we write off people like Sauron, with all his history of wrongdoing? People like my abusers or even myself? When does the potential for redemption become irrevocably lost?

How much empathy should we show, and what are we obligated to offer? What do we owe to each other? All of this while carefully balancing the line of not condoning or becoming an apologist, along with taking care of yourself first.

It’s mind-boggling.

---

The answers are out there: self-compassion, self-forgiveness. Change comes from within. Balance. But it's the same way people say go outside, exercise more, drink more water to fix depression. When you're in the throes of darkness, those words feel hollow, trite. And that glossy sunlit path is more than treacherous when you walk it, especially alone.

So again, I say, I scream: Should we not still help each other?

It's not just internal and external separately, we need both. I have to believe that. Internal change and external support.

—

Conclusion

In the end, I'm really only left with more questions. This barely scratches the surface of what I've been brewing on, I could go round and round for days. I mean, that’s what I’ve been doing this week.

Regardless, all the typical takeaways feel hollow. Choose light, choose hope, every single step, no matter how hard.

It’s never quite that simple, on a very visceral level. And for some of us, like Sauron, it never materializes.

It all just eats and scratches and twists inside me. Ultimately though, I think Caitlin Seida said it best about hope and redemption and the struggle in her poem, Hope is Not A Bird, Emily, It’s a Sewer Rat. Which I greatly hope you’ll read and find what I have in it. (link)

So I guess we keep being scrabbly little sewer rats, hoping to claw our way out of the dank dark cave. And y’know, it may not mean much, but I’ll be here, down in the muck. Right there with you.

Maybe that’s all we owe to each other.

Follow-up

#sauron #halbrand #mairon #Tolkien #middle earth #the rings of power #trop spoilers #haladriel #saurondriel #meta #analysis #philosophy #trigger warning #please be careful #character analysis

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tubbytarchia · 1 month ago

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pause. zoom. enhance. good universe smallidarity being the one where joel isnt homophobic. i need to know more about your bad universe smallidarity joel <3

LMAO well "bad universe smallidarity" is how I interpret smallidarity personally. I know my following has been curated a lot by this point but I still get anxious to comment on it out in the open, so I'm just gonna: This is about characters. It's about characters. Hello I'm talking about characters and this says absolutely nothing about any relationships present in the real world and I wouldn't have it any other way than it is now. This is about characters and I am a big fucking fan of Jizzie, don't even doubt me (said in general, not to you lol)

Anyway. I made a long post about this before but it's a little bit cringe so I'm gonna try to sum my thoughts up again: I love analysing Joel's freak behavior and to me his character reads as homophobic but in a deeply closeted way. His relationship with Lizzie is extremely cute but I get more aroace vibes from it than anything honestly. Their characters would have gotten together because, it made sense to. "Hey we like each other, might as well get married" and good for them, but although they are cute and every now and then proclaim their love, it feels more like an obligatory sentiment to make to me, their characters within the Life series and other SMPs I've watched with them just don't strike me as a couple if you take away the specific terms they use that confirm it. Like honest to god someone can try and make a compilation of that and I'm willing to bet that the compilation of him and Jimmy being weird would be at least comparable in length. And frankly I don't think Lizzie gives much of a fuck anyway

Joel's treated Jimmy very undesirably in the past, main culprit being ESMP2, until out of nowhere he chooses to end their rivalry and proclaim them two best friends instead, which Jimmy very easily goes along with. This very sudden change in their relationship being enforced by Joel makes me think he came to some revelation and had a good think about it. That's a lie, he's bad at that, he probably had a meltdown instead and didn't know how to fix things other than to go tell Jimmy "hey lets be friends now and um impose new law". This is where he contributed to the Jimmy ecosystem (AKA the harmful environment and people that enforce the idea that Jimmy is inherently lesser than them) the most and then abruptly stopped. Instances of him belittling Jimmy one way or another still happen afterward but it really has changed and become both more lenient and less frequent. What has been a constant however is the weirdass homoerotic behavior

This since and before ESMP2, but it really gives vibes of someone in love but neglecting to acknowledge it and/or combating those feelings with vocal disapproval of any intimacy that could be inferred. He has a wife after all, in fact, he'll remind you every chance he gets. Joel has no problem indulging in and joking about more sexual approaches vs more affectionate ones. Eg, the neck kisses, calling Jimmy babe, having pillow talk with Tango and literally making a baby with both Jimmy and Sausage in ESMP. But anything affectionate makes him feel vulnerable and so that's a no-no. I have no good explicit examples for this other than the fact that he just doesn't engage in affectionate engages/jokes much (not even with Lizzie) and him refusing to hold Jimmy's hand in SL. It's all jokes, and if it does get too sus, no worries, he can always just proclaim "I have a wife!!" as a no-homo safety net. But methinks he's just in denial. Unfortunately when he starts to grapple with his feelings I think he becomes homophobic and has probably called himself every slur out there. It'd make sense to me given how he often acts around Jimmy. It's not that he has anything against the concept of gay, he just doesn't know how to handle himself being gay

But, along with him trying to step out of the ecosystem and instead wanting to support Jimmy, he's also become more open to intimacy? For lack of a better word. He's been much less outward about his interactions with Jimmy being jokes, eg the RL and WL kisses where they're both just fucking soft about it man and just carry on, or him declaring himself to just be flirting with Jimmy to Gem and Scar in WL with no caveat. Still, Joel absolutely can't express genuine love or care in any conventional manner to Jimmy which hmm. Why might that be... WL puts Joel's worry for Jimmy to the forefront where he is VERY vocally upset about almost each of Jimmy's deaths but can't express this to him any other way than to call him a loser. Other people might hear of his worry (eg Gem) or he'll defend Jimmy to them (disapproving of the premature grave people built for him in SL. This in general is really important in signifying his departure from the ecosystem by disapproving of others within it). He is very nice to Jimmy, like in WL (especially considering Jimmy's several attempts at killing him for no real reason) but only outside of vocal confirmation

This is why in the smallidarity compilation I included clips like him in Phasmo just saying he was worried about Jimmy TO Jimmy because this fucker never says that so this is substantial material for me. It's character development, maybe he's slowly exiting the closet and coming to terms with his feelings and that he can be "vulnerable". Anyway that's why I label him homophobic but the point is that he really does care Jimmy a lot and he's been much better to him and by virtue less homophobic towards himself

#blabber #trafficshipping #smallidarity

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farfromstrange · 2 months ago

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Do No Harm

CHAPTER SIXTEEN: Thirty Minutes

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: After the Russians came to take you, Claire discovers the chaos in her apartment, and she has a call to make. There is only one person she can think of who can fix this--Matt.

Warnings for this chapter: ANGST, violence, mentions of alcohol and blood, S1 plot, self-loathing, religious imagery, mentions of alcoholism

Word Count: 4k

A/n: This is the kind of chapter that took me so long to write because it's necessary for the rest of the story but I really just want to write the following scenes. But alas, I got it done. I only had the dialogue to begin with, and I tried to do the characters justice.

Read Chapter 16: Thirty Minutes here on AO3!

A lot can happen in thirty minutes.

In thirty minutes, over 8000 babies are born.

In thirty minutes, over 3000 people die.

A lot can happen in thirty minutes and most of the time, it does.

In thirty minutes, lives are lived, lives are lost, and lives are given, and the world keeps turning, but it doesn’t necessarily have to take thirty minutes for a life to drastically change. All it takes is a second for the world to stop turning, and a life to be destroyed.

Claire left the apartment for thirty minutes. She took a walk around the block, her mind reeling with the weight of your argument. It would be a lie if she claimed that it didn’t hurt, that she didn’t consider not walking out because people have continuously hurt you all your life, and that is not your fault.

You don’t know what’s good for you. You don’t know what it’s like to be loved unconditionally. You are not to blame for the people who abused you. Claire knows how fragile you are. Trauma like the one you endured is not something that goes away easily, but there is only so much abuse she can take. There is only so much she can do to try and help you.

Sometimes, to help the person you care most about, you have to walk out on them; you have to leave them to their own devices, give them space and time, and hope they realize that they need help. But she can’t help but think that the reason you are so miserable now is her fault.

Claire told Matt to stay away from you. She told him that he is far too dangerous for you. You barely knew him, so she figured it wouldn’t hurt too much. A little bit of pain is better than death, she thought. In the end, though, she only made you face your trauma all over again because, against all odds, he actually did what she told him to. She didn’t think it was that serious until you stood on her doorstep last night, and she feels guilty—she feels so guilty she could throw up on the street.

Matt is a good guy, but he is a mess. You need someone put together enough to deal with your mess. He isn’t the right person for you and yet, the times you talked about him you sounded the happiest you had in years. He made you happy. She is the reason that happiness is gone now, and you turned to the bottle—again.

Thirty minutes.

It feels like an eternity has passed when Claire drags her feet up the stairs. She promised the beaten-up man in the mask she dug out of the dumpers that she wouldn’t leave the apartment. She wouldn’t leave until he solved the problem with the Russians. Until she was safe.

It was only supposed to be a few days of hiding out, but she lost more in a few days than she gained in two years. She is utterly exhausted. Lying is exhausting. All she ever wanted was to keep you safe, and you still got hurt. If she is destined to fail, what is she even trying for?

Thirty minutes, that’s how long she was gone. As she enters the building, the air feels different. A shiver runs down her spine, curling in her stomach like a black cloud of doom.

Claire takes a tentative step forward. The floorboards creak. It is almost as loud as the faint sobbing streaking out into the hall through the gap in her door.

There are claw marks on the floor. They’re faint, but they’re there—gashes left by a set of sharp nails that weren’t there before. And there’s blood, a trail of blood leading from the door into the apartment, and her heart drops into her stomach.

She pushes the door open. “Liv?” she asks. No answer. “I swear, if this is your way of getting back at me… this is not–” the ‘funny’ dies on her tongue when her eyes fall on the destruction left behind, the open window and—

Santino is cowering against the wall, beaten up and bleeding, staring back at her like a deer caught in headlights. The bottle of bourbon she bought at the liquor store downstairs falls out of her hand and shatters, mingling with the traces of blood. Your blood.

“Lo siento,” the boy cries. I’m sorry.

He tells her he couldn’t stop them. He tells her that he told them where she’s staying, and they took her—you. They took you. Two strange men took you when it should have been her, and it is then she starts to feel her heart bleeding into her chest.

Santino’s just a child, she thinks. He’s a child who got dragged into a mess much bigger than him, and it’s her fault.

It’s all her fault.

Last night, Matt learned what it sounds like when your heart breaks.

He listened as it sped up over the dishes clattering in the restaurant. First, it was nerves that had your body shaking against your will. But nerves turned into worry turned into fear, your heart relentlessly hammering against your ribcage. It was hurting you. Every beat brought you closer to the inevitable truth your mind refused to acknowledge.

Until your heart began to pump the blood a little slower.

Until the clock turned minutes into hours, and you’d downed your fourth glass of wine.

You kept a faith you claimed you never really had until time ran out, and you realized that he wasn’t coming. Fear turned into utter disappointment, and your heart cracked. It cracked, and then it broke, shattering like a wine glass on a white cloth.

When he first met you, you were crying over losing a patient—a child. You seemed particularly vulnerable to him, almost broken, in a way, but he also knew that it takes a special kind of strength and resilience to do what you dedicated your life to.

You confided in him. You had your heart broken by the people who were supposed to protect you most in this world. You could relate to what he went through, and yet when Claire said that he would only ever hurt you, that you deserve better—so much better—Matt didn’t hesitate to prove her right. In vowing to stay away from you, he did the very thing he was trying to avoid. But at what cost?

God and the Devil are laughing at him. He can kneel on the cold wooden benches that line Clinton Church and pray for His forgiveness; he can confess his sins to Father Lantom as if he’s writing a book about them, and try to repent, but every time he puts on that mask, he is giving away pieces of himself. He sacrifices his happiness for the greater good of the city he loves and for justice, and he lies to the people he loves. He lies, and he ultimately ends up pushing them away.

Matt sabotages himself over and over again. He pushed you away. He broke off something that was not quite a thing yet, but it could have been; it could have been so beautiful. He ruined it, again.

He hasn’t slept since.

When it’s not you, it’s him: Wilson Fisk. The name runs in circles around his mind. It is a whirlwind tornado he cannot seem to stop. He knew something was off when this nameless stranger came to Nelson & Murdock to hire them to defend an obvious murderer. A juror being paid off, the hung jury—it all seemed like an intricate game orchestrated by a third party to assess them.

He tried to keep his work separate from the man he becomes at night. Maybe it was Karen that put them on the radar, or maybe it’s simply because every bad thing in Hell’s Kitchen seems to be connected somehow, and he has put himself in the middle of it. He saved Karen and protected her from a worse fate, but unless he finds a way to stop the boulder from running down the hill toward them, his friends will always be in danger. He attracts it like a fucking magnet.

Healy impaled himself because he pushed for a name. He caught him, and his curiosity killed the cat. Wilson Fisk. He has never heard of him before. No one has. But if he is the reason for everything that has gone wrong, he needs to find him and he needs to stop him.

Matt doubts he would have a chance with you if he came running back. When he can make sure that you are safe, maybe he can crawl on his knees back to you and beg for your forgiveness, but rationally he knows he doesn’t stand a chance.

He hurt you. He broke your heart. He tore through the already friable tissue, and he ruined something that could have been so good for him—for both of you.

No amount of praying can fix that.

His mind is elsewhere as he and Foggy step out of the precinct into the cool night air.

“My mom wanted me to be a butcher, you know that?” Foggy says.

Matt sighs, tapping his cane along the sidewalk. “Oh, not the butcher story.”

“I said, ‘No, Mom, I want to be a lawyer.’” A pause. “I don’t remember what I said next.”

“No, you never do,” he says.

Foggy doesn’t take note of his snark comment. “But I’m fairly certain it wasn’t about bailing out a piss-drunk electrician who nearly burned his house down.” He looks across the street, tugging his friend’s arm in the process. “Let’s cross.”

Matt knows very well where the street is and where the cars are coming from, but he follows his lead without using much of his senses; he trusts him.

“Ed’s wife left him, Foggy. It was an accident.” His nails dig into his jacket. “Admittedly involving cigarettes and gasoline, but still.”

He had to do some good tonight. He had to make sure at least one broken heart wouldn’t crash and burn. And it’s work. Getting a friend out of a misdemeanor might not be what Foggy signed up for, but it is work they would otherwise not have. After what happened at Healy’s trial, it’s been piles of paperwork and unpaid bills, and Matt really couldn’t stand another second of running his fingers over pages of Braille.

They cross the street under Foggy’s observant eye. “I could be carving my own corn beef. Making my own pickles. Having a little shop of my own…” he trails off.

“You got your own office,” Matt murmurs.

“We have office space,” Foggy corrects. “An actual office would involve plantery and equipment. Fax machines or whatever successful people use.”

He chuckles. “I don’t think they use fax machines anymore.”

“How would I know? Which is endemic to the problem.”

They stop. Matt can feel his eyes boring into his skull, smell his sandalwood cologne and the deli sandwich he had for lunch, the one with the onions and extra pickles.

“Matt,” Foggy asks, “what if we’re doing this all wrong?” There is a certain uncertainty in his voice. “What if Landman and Zack was the way to go?”

Fear. Worry. Concern. It all plays together.

“You hated interning there,” says Matt.

Foggy shrugs, approaching the street to hail a cab. “I hate being broke.”

If his life weren’t so complicated, he would try harder to give his friend what motivated him to agree to his ballsy idea to start this firm in the first place. Matt knows Foggy has sacrificed a lot for him, sacrifices he surely did not deserve for keeping him in the dark, but when it comes to Foggy, the fear of losing him, of him running away, paralyzes him.

“You think Landman and Zack would’ve helped out Ed?” he asks.

“No. But they had free bagels every morning, and they had furniture that didn’t smell like a pack of cigarettes. And elevators… God, I miss the elevators.”

“We’re doing good here, Foggy.”

He turns around. “Are we?”

“Yeah,” Matt nods, “we’re making a difference.”

A cab pulls up to the curb just as his phone starts to ring in his breast pocket. Not the one he always uses. The ringing is new, not yet very familiar, but he recognizes it almost instantly.

“You have a new phone?” Foggy asks. “We can afford that?”

Matt pulls out the burner phone he bought just a few days ago. There is only one person it could be, only one person who has this number. He flips it open. “Hey, one sec,” he answers, moving away from the speaker to address his friend once more. “Foggy, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He holds open the door to the cab, eyes roaming over Matt’s figure. “It’s a girl, isn’t it? You got a new phone just for your girls.” He slides into the backseat. “My life sucks.”

Again, he chuckles. “Get home safe.”

The motor roars and Matt listens as the yellow car drives away with Foggy inside. Once he’s sure that he is out of reach, he lifts the phone back to his ear.

“Yeah, Claire, what’s up?” he says.

She breathes shakily through the line. He can hear her heart racing at a million miles an hour, beating out of her chest like a fright train. Tears lace her voice when she finally finds it in herself to speak. “You have to come over,” she says. “Right now.”

The urgency surprises him. Not so long ago it was him uttering the same words. The wind brushes through his hair. “What happened? You okay?”

“It’s not me,” Claire whispers. “It’s–” She almost says something else. Another word. Another fact. Another name. Her lungs contract and her breathing gets just a little harder.

His veins feel as though they are about to burst. He can taste his heart on his tongue. Who, he wants to ask. Why are you calling me? But he doesn’t need to ask her to know the answer. He doesn’t need her to tell him because even from across the city, her reaction speaks louder than words.

“It’s Liv,” she chokes out, and Matt nearly drops his phone in the gutter. “Someone took her. The Russians...”

You never got involved with the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. You weren’t there when he threw the fake Detective off Claire’s roof. You have no idea who he is, you only know that Matt Murdock is an asshole. He wanted to keep it that way. He stayed away to keep you safe.

They were looking for her. They were looking for Claire, and somehow, they found you.

They took you.

“Please,” she’s so close to tears that the word barely makes it out in one piece.

The phone snaps shut, wandering back into his pocket. ‘Someone took her,’ it keeps repeating on a loop. Matt folds his cane, and he takes off running. He runs faster than he ever has, not caring if someone sees him. Not caring if someone wonders why a blind man is running in the middle of the night as if he can see. Not caring if someone questions his identity.

He runs and runs and runs until his lungs are burning and his legs are hurting, and he runs even faster toward the apartment above the liquor store. Toward Claire.

He runs toward you, for if he lost you he would never be able to forgive himself.

The door to the apartment is already open when he arrives. The distinctive copper of blood hits his nose. It has seeped into the floorboards, seeped into skin. Your scent hangs heavy in the room. He can smell you on the couch cushions and the discarded needle on the living room table. It’s your blood, and hints of someone else’s. You’re everywhere yet nowhere at all, and for the first time since he met you, he can’t feel you. He can’t hear your heartbeat. He can’t make out your presence because neither are you at the hospital nor are you safely tucked away at home where you should be.

Liquor and rubbing alcohol cling to the oxygen. A broken bottle of bourbon lies shattered on the floor. You weren’t just taken; you spent the night here. Why? What on earth were you doing?

“Oh, thank God!” Claire exclaims.

“What happened?” Matt asks. His ears are ringing. “Where is she?”

She moves away from Santino who sits motionless, crying, on her sofa. He recognizes his heartbeat faintly from the night on the rooftop with Detective Foster. What a pathetic alias, he thought. But the boy they kidnapped is the reason he is even in this mess. He thought Claire would be safe. He thought he was doing the right thing.

They hurt an innocent child. They were going to hurt Claire. They hurt you; they took you, and he isn’t sure which scenario is worse. He doesn’t want to imagine.

“They found Santino, beat him, and he told them where I was,” she says, lip quivering. “Liv spent the night here. We fought, I went for a walk, and… he told them she wasn’t me, but they didn’t care. They just took her.”

He reaches for the nearest chair. “Fuck!” The wood splinters against the wall.

Claire flinches. “Matt.”

“She wasn’t supposed to be here. You weren’t–” He inhales deeply. “You weren’t supposed to go anywhere. What the hell were you thinking, Claire?”

“What was I thinking?” she bites back. “She was falling apart! That wasn’t my fault!”

Her words cut his skin with the force of a thousand blades. He’s bleeding out in an endless pool, and she goes and twists the knife one more time.

He ruffles his hair, tugging at the strands for some kind of lifeline. The ground beneath his feet has long melted away. He’s staring in the face of certain demise, but it won’t be him who dies. No, death would be too merciful. He is destined to watch everyone around him fall apart and die before the pain inevitably kills him, too.

Everything he touches turns to ashes. It rots from the inside out, and then it dies. A withering field of flowers unable to grow new seeds. A graveyard.

“I told you to stay away from her,” Claire snaps.

“I did,” Matt says. “The second you told me, I broke things off. I stood her up. I told her she deserved better. I did everything so she could make me the bad guy. She had nothing–” He gasps for air. “She had nothing to do with this.”

“You painted a fucking target on her back!”

He matches her volume, even goes above it as the echo threatens to break glass. “Don’t you think I know that?”

“No, you broke her. She almost drank herself into a coma last night because you couldn’t let her down easy. That’s why she was here. You broke her!”

“I–” It takes a long moment to register.

You almost drank yourself into a coma. You got so drunk you had to sleep on her couch, so drunk she had to hook you up to intravenous fluids, so drunk the two of you fought to the point your friendship imploded, and it was all because of him. Because he thought turning his back would make it easier for you to hate him.

He turned his back on you. Like a coward.

“I was on that rooftop with you when you put that guy into a coma, not her,” she says, spitting bitterly at his feet with tears clouding her hazel eyes. “I was the one they were looking for.”

Matt begins to pace. The weight of the guilt pressing down on him is making it hard to speak. “Are you sure it was the Russians?” he asks.

She deadpans. “Oh, I don’t know. Did you piss off anyone else?”

“No, I–”

“She wouldn’t have been here if it wasn’t for you!” A tear rolls down her cheek and gets caught in her necklace. “That girl has been through hell and back, and she can take one hell of a punch, but she’s barely got any fight left in her. Now, part of that’s my fault, but she doesn’t deserve to get dragged into your bullshit!”

“I know!” he cries. “Don’t act like she doesn’t mean anything to me.”

“You don’t get to say that!” Claire cuts him off. “You don’t know her! She’s dedicated her life to saving people,” she says. “She beat the odds more than once, and she should be here right now instead of me. So, I need you to get out there and beat the shit out of whoever you need to get her back. Put them in a coma. Carve their hearts out. I don’t care! I need you to fight for her because if she dies… if she dies, I will never forgive you.”

Her heartbeat remains steady throughout. Her words aren’t some overly emotional reaction to the fear of losing a friend, her best friend, but they are the blatant truth. In her heart and her soul, she knows she would never forgive him if you died, and she doesn’t care what he needs to do to get you back. If she could, she would burn the world down herself.

It’s not romantic love that drives her. She just knows you. She knows you, and she has grown to love you in a way that is hard for outsiders to comprehend—for those who don’t know you. She’s protective of you. She cares about you. She’s your person, and she is yours, even when you hate each other.

She will never stop fighting for you to the best of her abilities, but this is beyond her capabilities. Claire has no choice but to place what little faith she has left, no matter how mangled or broken, in Matt’s calloused hands. She might be furious at him, she might even want to claw his eyes out and sacrifice them to Satan, but she does know he cares. He cares more than most people. And if there is one thing the two have in common it is that they care about you. That has to be enough.

“Okay,” Matt whispers.

“Say it,” she commands.

“I’ll find her,” he says, louder this time. “I promise, I’ll find her.”

He needs to find you. He needs to tell you the truth. He needs to hold you in his arms, safe and sound, just to make sure you’re alive. He needs you to be alive. He prays you’re alive.

He is sure he’s losing his mind to the smoldering flames of fury. He can’t think, can’t hear anything over the rushing of his blood, and he can’t fucking breathe, but he has to—for you. He has to get it together for you.

So, he does. He takes a deep breath. He pulls the black suit out of the chest under the stairs in his apartment, and he stands on the rooftop until the city has gone quiet, and all that remains is you.

He is going to find you, and when he does, those who took you will have hell to pay.

Tag List: @shiorimakibawrites @allllium @siampie @auroraslibrary @roseallisonparker @abucketofweird @capylore @kniselle @sumo-b98 @peachstarliight @thatonegamefish @danzer8705 @kakamixo @littlehappyperson @atemydadforbreakfast @stevenknightmarc @zheezs14 @shouldbestudying41 @kiwwia-wiwwia @writtenbyred @echo-ethe @kezibear @peterbarnes @littleagxs @silas-aeiou @scoliobean

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock #matt murdock angst #daredevil #daredevil x reader #do no harm #charlie cox

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thethirdtriplet · 1 year ago

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Head cannon for the Batkids:

So, we’re all aware that out of all Bruce’s kid Tim is the only one that’s ever gotten away with lying to him on more than one occasion.

And we know how smart he is, right, so if over the years he just keep doing it, lying to Bruce, about small things that wouldn’t really harm anyone. Just so he could observe and keep track of how much he can get a way with, for future reference of course.

But he gets so good at it that Bruce, Bat “the most paranoid person on the planet” man, immediately trusts his words, just like that.

Honestly why wouldn’t he? Tim hasn’t given him anything to doubt. He’d been carful over the years. 1-Hiding his tracks, 2-being overly truthful, 3-keeping his reputation as clean as possible.

1-He breaks something? Bruce wouldn’t know, cause he hid the evidence, bought a replica or straight up gaslights Bruce into thinking it never existed.

2-He stirs up trouble with the YJ, he’d tell Bruce with all honesty what happened, to the point where Bruce just expects the truth when Tim reports a mission to him, unbeknownst to him, that half of it is lies.

3-He keeps this up in his years as Robin to stay in his good graces, obviously, he’s polite, diligent, reliable and responsible, who wouldn’t trust a boy that’s so mature for his age?

Of course then his sibling find out about this certain skill of his and employ him to lie for them.

——————————

Dick, broke a chandelier he was not supposed to be swinging on? No problem; Timmy’s on it:

Dick: *tries giving Tim the puppy dog eyes that have virtually no effect on him*

Tim: *sends him an unimpressed look*

Tim: Bruce, just look at that ancient looking chandelier and tell me it wasn’t going to fall on someone’s head one day or the other?

Bruce: …

Tim: *sighs exasperatedly*

Tim: Do you have such little faith in your own son that you would believe he would endanger himself doing something that could potentially injure him, that you specifically told him not to do.

Tim: *sends a pointed look towards dick*

Dick: *sends him a sheepish smile*

Bruce: …

Bruce: *relents*

Bruce: I guess you’re right.., and the chandelier is quite old,..I’ll have to buy a replacement..

Bruce: *walks away*

Tim: You owe me, for this.

Dick: Yeah, I know, but thanks anyway Timmy!

——————————

Jason, scratched the Batmobile, he wasn’t permitted to drive? Bribe Tim; to deal with Bruce:

Jason: I’ll cook for you, anything you want, as payment.

Tim: *sighs*

Tim: Bruce, are you really sure you were careful with the Batmobile, last nigh? I seem to remember, you were in quite a rush to catch up to two-face, who was escaping in his getaway car.

Bruce: I checked on it last night, and don’t remember any scratches…

Tim: You were dead on your feet last night, barley even able to change out of your gear, write a full report, then head to bed, it shouldn’t be surprising that you missed a few scratches on the car.

Bruce: …

Bruce: I guess so… I’ll just have to keep a more attentive eye on it, next time…

Bruce: *walks away*

Tim: I’ll be expecting breakfast burritos, to appear on my plate, in the morning.

Jason: You can expect anything you want, and I’ll make it happen, after that save, nerd-bird.

——————————

Damian, snuck in an injured cat to take care of, before sending them off to the shelter? ‘Force’ Drake, to help:

Damian: While I usually wouldn’t resort to you for assistance, Drake, I must reluctantly admit, I am in need of it.

Tim: I’ll only agree, if you name the cat Drake.

Damian, who already named the long haired, black furred, blue eyed cat, after Tim: Very well.

Later on:

Bruce: *spots the new cat*

Bruce: Tim, is it just me or does Alfred the cat look.. different.

Tim: I’m not sure what you’re talking about, B.

Bruce: I could have sworn his eyes were yellow, not blue?..

Tim: Are you sure, though? Perhaps you’re mistaken. Maybe it’s a trick of the light? There’s a lot of reasons, as to why you could have mistaken the cat’s eye colour.

Bruce: …

Bruce: I guess… if you say so…

Later, later on:

Damian: Drake, Drake, the cat, has been adopted, as of late, by a loving and nurturing family (as loving and nurturing a family can be, in Gotham).

Tim: Cool.

——————————

Cassandra wants Bruce to attend her recital, but he’s busy? Ask Tim for help:

Bruce: Odd, I remember I had a few more cases to finish today…

Tim: Ohhh, those? Yeah, you gave them to me, not long ago.

Bruce: …I did?

Tim: Yeah! Just last night, when you told me you promised cass, you’d attend her recital, tonight. So I suggested, to handle those cases for you.

Bruce: …

Bruce: That does seem like something I’d do, thanks for reminding me, Tim, I’m glad I can count on you.

Tim: Of course, B.

Later on:

Cass, hugging Tim; to show her appreciation.

——————————

Duke, may or may not have skipped school after first period? Get Tim to help:

Tim: Bruce, is the school absolutely sure, he hadn’t attended his classes, I mean you can obviously see, from the security camera, that he entered the school gates this morning.

Bruce: The teachers stated that he didn’t answer when his name was called in class, and that they didn’t see him all day, on school grounds. None of the security cameras captured any sight of him, other than when he entered, through the gates.

Tim: Ohhh, I see, he must’ve been honing his bat-skills, you know sneaking around, undetected, in school, that must be why no one noticed him, not even the security cameras.

Bruce: …

Bruce: You’re right. I’ll be speaking to the principal about the staff’s inability to locate him, when he was obviously on school grounds.

Bruce: Then, I’ll talk to Duke about refraining from using his bat-skills in our civilian lives. Even if it’s for training purposes. Although I’ll have to commend him, for attending the whole day, undetected.

Later on:

Duke: Are you sure I can’t do something to repay you, I mean, you saved my hide, just now.

Tim: Well.. there is this new juice bar I’ve been wanting to check out, I could use the company.

Duke: No way! I heard about it too, hold on let my grab my phone, then we can head out.

#tim drake #dick grayson #bruce wayne #jason todd #damian wayne #duke thomas #cassandra cain

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thesleepyhollows · 6 days ago

Text

Understanding Arkhamverse scarecrow.

I’ve been wanting to make this post for awhile. I think with the release of Arkham shadow we might finally have all the necessary pieces to understand the life of Jonathan crane, his motivations and his descent into obsession.

This scene gives us a lot to work with.

Let’s start with this. It seems like unlike some versions of crane who see fear as a tool. The true face of control and power. Arkhamverse Crane sees fear as everything. This has been observed all throughout the series. From him discussing how fear drives every human action in Arkham asylum to this line in Arkham knight just before he’s defeated.

Something else I noted in that clip was Jonathan immediately trying to rationalise and analyse his reaction to his toxin using fear.

Now we’re not quite sure what this original chemical of his does. Only that its intention is to trigger the shadow within people. We can assume through both his and Batman’s reactions that it aims to do this through a similar process to the future fear toxin. Bringing out and facing people with their deepest fears. Hoping they may become them.

Though that leaves the same question. Why jump to fear. He’s clearly talented in chemistry. Surly there would be more direct ways to bring out people’s demons rather than only focusing on a single part of the shadow. Well I believe that shows us even before this realisation Jonathan had some experience and issues with fear. It’s also why his greatest fear seemingly is just. Fear itself. The helpless fears given to us from evolutions and experiences long before our time. Inherent fears.

However we also shouldn’t disregard his fixation on the shadow itself. Why does he seemingly want to get people to become their worst selves. As seen in his tapes with Harvey. Why is Jonathan crane like this?

Well I think there may have been a time where he saw someone consumed by fear. Destoryed by it.

This could draw an interesting parallel to the story of Amadeus Arkham whose story started when he watched his own mother be consumed by her mental illness before ending up consumed by it himself. I think this parallel could make a lot of sense given that I’d argue although the joker plays a more personal threat scarecrow is the main villain of the Arkham series.

So allow me to tell you what I believe to be the story of Jonathan Crane in the Arkham series. Assuming that the brief backstory we got in his Arkham asylum character bio isn’t considered canon.

A parent or other caregiver suffered from great anxiety and paranoia that caused them to do great harm. Maybe overtime perhaps in one tragic incident. Jonathan internalised this and began to grow interested in the mind. Maybe it started with good intentions. After all he does claim to be helping people in Arkham shadow. Maybe that was a lie and he’s been twisted for a very long time. Who knows.

He began work at Gotham state university and we know how that ended up.

Though it’s worth noting he clearly was brilliant. So much so that this incident unlike most versions of the character did not get him fired because his classes brought the university so much revenue. Instead he left on his own accord to take over as head of rehabilitation at blackgate. An odd choice given the amount of institutions bidding over him. They were likely offering more, far more than the job he took. Though I think his motivations for this were split. Partly is of course the obvious motivation of easy access to test subjects that couldn’t easily speak out. We can see in the previous game that he was running controlled tests likely of the chemicals we see used in Arkham shadow and his subjects were willing participants.

Now either not enough people were choosing to participate or the effects were becoming so potent it risked drawing unwanted attention to his work.

The second reason connects to my proposed backstory. Maybe he was curious to explore how fear connects and causes crime and violence via the shadow. The chain reaction that begins WITH fear.

We then see the events that happen in Arkham shadow and we find out alongside Jonathan that he’s been inhaling his own chemicals during testing. Smart move there buddy. This sends him into a psychotic spiral and forces him to confront and become his greatest fear. His shadow. Fear itself. We can see that this truly set in given how messed up he looks the following day. Not to mention his actions becoming erratic. No longer thinking to hide his crimes until after he severely injures Harvey and huffing his own chemicals right in court.

Afterwards? We’re not sure. Of course he goes on to become the scarecrow then the events play out as we see throughout the rest of the Arkham games. He gets mauled by killer croc during the events of asylum and his previously smug and joyfully sadistic personality get destroyed alongside his face. The experience clearly changed him quite drastically as a person. Although clearly it didn’t shake his core ideals and beliefs about the all consuming nature of fear.

How pitifully ironic that this idea became true in the end. As he’s injected with his own toxins his mind collapsing and giving way to permanent insanity and terror. Fear really was everything Jonathan had left in the end.

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casuallivi · 14 days ago

Text

The Midnight Kiss

I’ve been a sad bitch and the almost nothings that I managed to write were reflecting it terribly. I want to be a happy bitch again and finish a quirky romcom that does not evolve to sad-town-fest. Pray for me and my constancy, godspeed to us all. This is the farthest I’ve ever came writing solos-turned-multichapter. Amazing and wtf.

Warning: mentions of anxiety and self-harm and infuriating blonds.

Enjoy. Comments are welcomed and cherished :)

Part 8: 500 days of Azriel - part 1

Five hundred days.

The countdown of his life turning upside down took 500 days

And it was all because of her.

DAY 1

Truth be told Azriel Marino didn't mean to pay her any attention.

The thing is life can be unpredictable, even for a big planner like him, especially when this planner happens to be in constant contact with the most chaotic variant he had ever came across. Well, maybe it was a bit dramatic of him to define a person like that, but Elain Archeron was no regular person, so Azriel couldn’t help but compare her to a surprise variable disrupting the balance of his perfect life equation.

“Fuck!” The strangled curse resonated along with the emergency door hitting the wall. Agitated, Azriel shrugged his suit jacket, making his way to the building's stairwell.

The phone in his hand was ticking time bomb. He held it like a vice, like a nasty habit he couldn't seem to get rid of. Her photo on the screen shined like a beacon, a conductor to his own personal hell. Damn it. He should have erased her contact info by now, should have erase all possible traces of her.

Easier said than done.

Azriel stared at the photo she sent as if he was staring at Morrigan herself, stared at the empty bottle of wine by her side, her tear-stained cheeks and red stained lips doing nothing to distract him from the bunch of pills in her hand. Under the ominous picture laid four bubbles that made his stomach churn.

sometimes I want 2 sleep and never wake up Sorry 4 texting I love u bye Az

It had been an hour since he received the picture documenting Morrigan's latest threat of attempting suicide.

Then nothing.

No further picture, no more threatening messages, nothing. Complete silence from the woman who had been calling and texting nonstop all week after a photo like that was a bad sign. With a shaky hand, Azriel loosened his tie and scratched his throat, willing the air in and out.

I love u

The empty text float in his mind.

It's a lie, he reminded himself. It's always a lie.

There was no coming back from the break up this time. Not for him. Whatever she chose to do or not do was out of his hands now. He had played this part one too many times to know nothing good would come from bending to her.

Scrunching his eyes shut, Azriel pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to calm himself. He hated this feeling, the cruel fait of being responsible for Mor's life, the constant balance of her existent being put in the palm of his hands.

It’s fake, he mentalized. It’s fake like all the other ones.

But what if it wasn’t?

Shaking, he dialed her number.

Azriel didn't know if it was worry or deep resented anger that gave his hand tremors. Deep down he knew what she was doing. This wasn’t his first rodeo with Mor. Facetimes in the middle of the night, hysterical crying on his hallway, pictures of knifes and ropes over her bed, long goodbye emails that he should’ve not read, but couldn’t help doing so. So far, Mor had used a lot of cruel ways to razzle him into taking her back, and Azriel was so fucking done with this shit.

Still, having someone texting you the equivalent of a suicide note was frightening. Why hadn't she reached him again? What if she had gone through with it this time? What if she hurt herself? Azriel ran a hand through his hair.

The call didn't go through, panic slowly seeping through his bones.

Who was he kidding? Azriel would never be able to leave Morrigan. They have been together too long, been through too much. It was too late for him to try and leave her now, too late to break this sickening connection between them.

On the verge of crying, he dialed her number again.

He could be stronger this time, firmer, just a long time friend checking on another. He could do this. He would just check on her, make sure that she was safe and unharmed, and them he–

“You drop that phone. Right! Now!”

The loud command caught him by surprise, Azriel turning back to the exit door. No one had come through, he was still alone on his floor.

“I cannot believe you’re calling this asshole again!” The same feminine voice reprehended.

He recognized her immediately, his ears well used to the high pitch that loved to start a fight with him, only it was a first seeing her using this tone with anyone else. Quietly, he approached the railing to get a better view from the floor below, watching his two employees fight like toddlers

“He called me all day! It’s rude to ignore.” Nuala screeched, pushing Elain’s head away.

“He’s buttering you up, your idiot,” Elain replied two second away from climbing her friend's back. “That’s how that piece of shit manipulates you!”

Jumping, she made failed attempt to grab the phone.

“He doesn’t manipulate me.” Nuala said in a defensive tone.

“Oh, please!”

“… Fine, maybe a little. But he loves me!”

“No he doesn’t. Give me the phone, Nu.”

“I will… I just need to call him real quick, it's the last time, I promise.”

Huffing, Elain placed both hands on her waist, glaring at her friend.

“You’re the one who asked me to guard you phone, remember?” She made a run for her friend, Nuala dodging her with easy. “I won’t let you get back with that walking trash!”

“I’m not trying to get back together.”

“Save the lies for someone who’ll believe you.”

“I’m serious. I just have check on him.”

“No, you don’t.”

“He was so sad Elain, he almost drunk himself to death!”

“That man was cheating on you, he can jump of a cliff an I won’t care! Give me the phone.”

“No.”

“Give it to me!”

“No!”

Azriel rolled his eyes watching them struggle like two toddlers battling for the best toy. The “fight” didn’t last long, not when Elain was willing to stick a wet finger in her friend’s ear to gain advantage. He didn't know whether to be impressed or disgusted with how far she was willing to go, and he wasn't the only one.

“Oh my God, you’re disgusting!” Nuala complained, rubbing her ear raw.

“And you are welcome.” Elain replied, turning the phone off and sticking it inside her shirt.

With a sigh, Nuala sat on the stair, hiding her head between her knees, the photographer soon following her steps, wrapping an arm around her friend. The scene seemed too personal for him to be watching, yet Azriel could not walk way without listening to all of it, not when he and Nuala seemed to have so much in commom.

Trying to give them a bit of privacy he turned his back to the railing and sat down. In normal circunstance he would never he sat in an unwkown dirty floor, but his day had been long, and Azriel was tired. The kinds of tiredness that reachs the soul. He did his best not to touch anything that wasn't necessarie.

“He will change," he heard Nuala reasoning. “He promised.”

“He always does, and he never changes. No one change for others, you know that.”

“What if he meant it this time?”

“What if he doesn’t?" A bit of silenced filled the staircase. "Will you spend the rest of your life catering for him? Being unhappy just to stay beside him?” At that, Nuala lifted her head. “Honey, that man doesn’t love. If he really loved you, he would not be terrorizing you, he wouldn’t hurt you, and he wouldn’t pretend to be hurt just to get your attention. You don’t do this to people you love Nuala.”

Nuala groaned, the weight of the words washing over her.

“If he doesn’t love me, why won’t he let me go?"

I know the feeling, Azriel thought on the upper floor.

"He has to love me at least a little bit, right?”

“You know why he won’t leave you alone? Because now that you dumped his useless ass he realized how much you did for him, how much easier you turned his life. In his mind, he can treat you as badly as he wants and you will never leave, because you don’t love yourself enough to leave, but you love him enough to stay even if it makes you unhappy.”

The women stayed silent for a while, Azriel absorbing the words that weren’t meant for him but might as well had been. To love someone more than you love yourself was a dreadful curse to carry.

“I miss him.”

Azriel paused, pensive. Did he missed Mor? Inside him there was long, a long he couldn't quite comprehend or classify. He was so tired of being manipulated and dismissed, so tired of being taken for granted, tired of being alone, still, Azriel missed being in love, and Morrigan was the only woman he had ever loved. But did he miss Mor? Azriel wasn't so sure anymore.

“I know, darling." Elain soothing voice found him again. "You won’t miss him forever, I promise. Give it time Nuala, it sounds cliché but time heals all things, it will heal you too, you’ll see.”

Another moment of silence, then,

"I think to have to keep my phone for a little longer.”

“I know.”

“Don’t let me call him.”

“I won’t.”

“Christ, I can’t believe I’m having a meltdown at work.”

“I know.” Elain laughed. “I’m so gonna make fun of you later. Come one, let’s get back. The busier you are, the less you’ll think about that waste of oxygen, come." Her voice began to feel further. "By the way, Nu, you should try Crushland, is a wonderful problem-solver.”

“And stay hidden behind plants to thirst after Cass? No, thank you.”

“Ugh, shut up. I told you I wasn’t hiding, I was passing by.”

“Sure you were.”

A door opened and closed and then the girls were gone, leaving Azriel behind. His phone rang, Morrigan’s name in capital letters screaming at him to pick up. He starred at it until the screen shut down again.

Turning his device off completely, Azriel stood. He rearrenged his tie, using the linen handkerchief safely tucked in his brest pocket to clean the dirt from hist pants. His eyes followed the material, suddely remembering this particular piece had been a gift from Mor. Azriel took a deep breath, ehxaling slowly, Elain's words replaying on his ming. The busier you are, the less you’ll think about that it. Usually, Azriel would be the first one to disagree with Elain. This time he hopped she was correct.

Reentering the halls of the building, Azriel discharged the handkerchief in the nearest bin, thinking back to the one piece of the conversation that he had not understood at all.

“What the fuck is crushland…” he muttered to himself.

DAY 185

There was a she he didn't want to think about.

And there was a she who would not leave his mind.

To Azriel Marino, Elain Archeron’s mind was a chaotic mess. Well, at least he supposed it was, since he was yet to see her having a linear line of thoughts or exhibit traits of an organized person. And he would know if she had, because Azriel had been paying a lot of attention to Elain since he accidently listen to her conversation.

Going against instinct was hard, but he tried his best to follow the stolen advices. Since that faitful day, Azriel reseted his phone without bothering to save any prior conversation, photo or information on it, switched numbers - both personal and professional - forced himself to develop a new distribution strategy to raise the number os sales, reached for a couple friends that he hadn't catch up with in years, and suspended Morrigan from the list of preaproved guests of his building.

The last action was proving to be a bit tricky since his brother lived on the same place in a different floor, Mor using the opportunit to pretend to visit Cassian and go bang straight on Azriel doors. To his credit he had been doind an excelent job of playing dead in these situation, but it was getting embarassing to pretend not being home when he was a grown asss adult. Should he move? Fuck.

The first days were rough, the suicide threat hunting his dreams. Azriel did his best not to fall, focusing in rebuilding his days without placing Mor at the center of his life, focusing his efforts in fully reviving the magazine instead. These days most of their revenue came from the digital market, but Azriel was determinate to ignite people's love for paper again. There was a certain finesse and class to the final result of a printed magazine that bright ipad screen couldn't compete with. The more he tried to revive this tradition, the less he found himself fixating about Mor.

From the confines of his office, he watched Elain's back as she worked editing some shots. Her advice was solid. Time was indeed a good healer, Azriel being the one that have never gave into it, not entirely. He wondered if she would be proud of how well he managed to follow her lead. Would she praise him? From his observations, Elain was the type to praise every trivial achievement her friends would share with her. Except for his. Not that he had ever shared anything with her. Elain and Azriel weren't friends.

He obsessed over the wrapper one last time, breathing in courage and marching to deliver it.

In his hands Azriel held a Remus 1.5x Full Frame Anamorphic 5 Lens Set all wrapped in pink. He had no inkling about professional lenses quality, but he had seen Elain daydreaming about this particular set once or twice, her computer screen stuck on the specs as she gushed to Nuala or Miguel about inumerous advantages only she seemed to follow. It is a working tool, he would say, to keep improving the magazine's quality.

Truth was the gift was a hidden thank you and a quiet peace offer.

Elain could be a mouthy thing with a questionable wardrobe and an inexplicable supply of energy for someone who disliked coffee, but over the last months Azriel learned that she was also insightful and very considerate, qualities he had failed to apreciate for they could never interact for long without fighting. During their weekly meeting Elain mostly kept to herself, scketing scenarios and playing with possible color gradientes as she dropped a terrible joke here and there, quickly associating which agencies would have the best catalog of models for the monthly issue, humming as she pinned the name to vision bord. When they were in the shooting set her other persona would come out, bossy and stern, not afraid to shout orders at anyone, not even him. Azriel was trying to learn not to interfere with her on set, still, he would razzle her sometimes, unable to stop himself from trying to be in control.

Once he stopped antagonizing her, Azriel realized their goal was the same: do a good job. That's why he suggested Cassian should hire Elain as their official photographer instead of keeping her as backcall freelancer. Elain was too good not to keep. And since she appeared to be a good friend to every one in this office, maybe, just maybe, he and Elain didn't have to be in each other's throat all the time. Maybe they could even be… well, not friends, he didn't know her personally enough for that, but they could be work colleagues. Good colleagues.

They had a couple traits in common, and Azriel was perfectly capable of using them to befriend her.

Or maybe he wasn't.

Azriel’s nose wrinkled on its on as he approached mess scatarred across the wood top that once upon a time, was a desk. Now old food wraps covered half of it, and so did empty cups (which were probably responsible for the stains on the wood); the other half was occupied by cut outs from magazines and multicolored folders, pictures of clothes, places and people that she would somehow turn into an idea.

A shiver ran down his spin, making him physicaly shake in place to get rid of it. His mind would never function properly in this kind of working space. Just thinking about putting his laptop on this desk made his skin crawl. Not surprisingly, her camera was the only item in a proper place, with no garbage nearby, safely secure in a bag and carefully placed on a lower shelf.

If there was one thing, Azriel knew about Elain was that she loved her camera.

And apparently, his brother.

Unaware of his presence, Elain hunched over her phone like a goblin, an old photograph of a shirtless Cassian posing by a waterfall occupying the entirety of her screen. If Elain was trying to be subtle about her crush, she was doing a terrible job of it. By now, he was sure everyone in this department knew she had a thing for his brother.

Well, she was a single woman and his brother was a single man... Still, Azriel didn't like the way her eyes would lite up around Cass, how easily they would slip into casualty and conversation, how she'd play with her hair and smile brightly at him, how her voice would be sweeter and higher than normal, or how they would share the same wave length for flirty jokes and heavily sexual innuendos. He hated those jokes. Hated that insufferable immodest bond that they seemed to share so effortlessly.

Why did they need to be laughing so much around each other? It was annoying and juvenile.

Sick of watching her ridiculous hobby, Azriel lowered himself till his lips were nearly touching the shell of her ear.

“Online stalking can also be considered a form of working harassment.”

Elain nearly jumped from her chair.

“Jesus Christ!” she squealed, holding her phone to her chest.

“Nope, just your boss. About to file an HR complain with you name on it.”

She rolled her eyes at him.

“You can’t complain about me, I wasn’t stalking you.”

“So you admit you were stalking.”

“I wasn’t stalking, it was a Facebook memory!” She defended herself, cheeks reds as a tomato.

Azriel watched her. Elain wasn’t the shy blushy type.

In fact, in all those months working with her he hadn’t saw her face red unless she was very angry (usually with him). Elain blushing was kind of… cute. Her heated cheeks matching the soft cherry blossom shade of her lips. Azriel was yet to see Elain with heavy make up on, her daily pattern cosisting in sunscreen, a bit of foundation and lots of gloss. He could tell her lips were the area she liked to play with the most, testing different shades of red and pink that seemed to match her mood. Sometimes they seemed the color of rose buds, sometimes they were closer to cherry red, most times they were glossy and sparkling, and sometimes he stared at them more than he should, so engrossed in the way they moved he forgot to pay attention to what she was saying. Like now.

"–and Cass befriend me," she continued. "Now facebook is reminding me that I accidently liked his old picture, and my phone died, and I couldn’t undo it, and he saw! Which was sooo embarrassing I wanted to die. When I explained he just laughed on my face and liked a really ugly picture of me from high school in return, but I’m not stalking your brother.”

Azriel simple staring at her.

Mistaking his silence for doubt, she repeated herself. “I’m not!”

For some unknown reason, knowing she was blushing because of his brother unsettled him. Azriel knew Cassian well. A girl like Elain: pretty, young, and full of fire, was like a flame ready to attract his moth of a brother. Cassian was fast to be interested in girls like her, and even faster to grew bored of them.

"Don’t let my brother fool you, Archeron. He’ll break your heart.”

A slight frown took over her features.

"I can take care of myself, Marino."

"If you say so."

His mood soured.

Pulling a couple napkings from his pocket, Azriel pushed a few cups aside, cleaning a spot on the desk where he unceremoniously placed the gift upon, not bothering to explain what it was or what was it for, Elain's frown going from annoyed to confused as she watched him dissapair back into his office.

One minute latter her scream filled the entire floor, a scream followed by,

"Thank you, Marino! Thank you! I'll preserve it and use it wisely! Thank you!!!!"

Azriel bit a smile down, too perturbed by his own emotions to enjoy her reaction properly.

That day he realized something important about himself.

Something somewhat unsettling.

In his arduous quest to forget Morrigan, Azriel found himself thinking of a different woman entirely, a woman he had no business paying attention to, a woman infatuated with his brother. A woman who, unknown to himself, had began to drawn him to her crazy way of seeing the world, beguiling him to do something he had never done in his life.

Beguiling him act on a whim.

DAY 309

"When the clock strike midnight, I'll leave this old pinning Elain behind and make out with the first man that looks my way." Elain announced puffing her chest.

If someone asked him what possessed him to meddle in Elain's imaginary love life, he wouldn’t be able to tell. And if someone had told him her love life would turn into his love life, he would have laugh himself hoarse. But there he was, kissing her instead.

His fingers twisted in her hair and Azriel felt Elain growing lax against him, the frailest of whimpers escaping her throat as his tongue slid inside her mouth, the passionate slow kiss they shared at the strike of fireworks announcing midnight making his heart pound and his head throb.

He pulled away first, slight embarrassed by how rusted his tempo was, his breath frenetic and out of place as he struggled to fill his lungs with air. Elain didin't seem to care, chasing him closer as his head moves away. Azriel kept her at bay, the fist tightly wound in her hair holding her back. To calm himself he kissed her jawline; once, twice, thrice, his breath still erratic, agitated. For fucks sakes, why was he feeling so frenetic from kissing while seated?! God, his was out of shape. A kiss to a pulsing vein on her throat and Azriel came back to earth. He had descendent more than he meant, more than it was appropriated for a couple in an open public space.

His mind was a whirlwind of chaos and something very unexpected; want. Want hited him out of nowhere. The reality of what he’s done sinking in. He kissed Elain. He had kissed Elain Archeron and he liked it. Slowly, he disentangles his fingers from her hair, putting distance between their bodies, the soft hand with manicured nails, that were twisting the front of his shirt, letting him go, dropping back to her lap.

"Feeling in love yet?" the words are barely out of his mouth before he’s making a constipated expression. Jesus, Cassianism was beginning to rub on him.

The insult doesn’t land quite right with his voice coming out way breathier than before. Shit. The kiss was supposed to be a provocation. Azriel intended to give her a peck and prove her so called 'resolution' was bullshit.

Once again her crazy rambling appeared to be constructed on solid base, the young mouthy brat proving she was way more experienced in understanding relationships than him, even he was the only one between that had 10 years of experience to acount for.

When he approached Elain's lonely sullen self on the beanbag Azriel handn't meant to kiss her. Misery was the emotion bringing them close, not lust!

I'll just warn her off, he had told himself, simply console her that Cassian wasn't that big of a loss, that migling with him would amount to anything big in the end. Despite their constant disagreements, Elain was hardworking and passionate about her job, and Azriel would hate to lose an efficient employee because his brother couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. A pretty lie his mind carved to give him an excuse to approach her. Seeing Morrigan on his brother's arms was a blown on his progress of forgeting her, and no one here but Elain would be able pro properly share that misery with him.

Azriel was already miserable with himself for waking up sharing a hotel bed with Mor on the night before. In his defense, he had no idea how that happened. Fucking hell, one minute he was visiting a new pub with a friend, the next she was there in his face. He ignored her the best he could, drinking more than he should, his low tolerance for alcohol soon making his wasted. He remember Caleb called calling a cab, hands helping him inside the car, flashes on the elevator and her. No matter how loudly he reprehended or pushed her she did not bulgde.

No matter how hard he tried, Azriel could not remember bedding her, but the evidence was there, their clothes scattered across the room, his coat hung over some chair, a used condom beside his shoe. Fucking idiot, that's what he was. So much effort. So much effort for fucking nothing. No, he would not go down this road again.

It's fine, he thought pulling his pants on, it was a slip, a mistake he would not do again. From now on if he happen to frequent the same space as her Azriel would leave. Being confrontational have never worked with her, Morrigan's habilites to bend him surprising even Azriel. And then she appeared dating his fucking brother not even 24 hours aftwards, the same smiling idiot brother who claimed to have been dating her for months now.

His life was joke.

And so was Elain's.

She didn't know it, but Azriel had watched her pathetic attempt to confess her feelings after the Christmas party, feelings way to pure to be wasted on his heartless brother.

When Elain said her drunken goodbyes and waddled to the elevator, Azriel sat his drink aside and followed on the next one. He doubt she would be able to catch a cab by herself. Turned out she didn't have too, because Cassian had reached her before him, his tall frame nearly hidding Elain from view, a mass of honey curls peeking from his left side.

"I like you," she grabed the front of his shirt for support. "Lainy, don't do this." "Like, really, reaally like you... I think about you all the time." “Oh Lainy, this wouldn’t work.” His brother's voice disperse from where he stood untangling her fingers from the hand-painted shirt Elain had gifted him as secret santa. “We could try," she began shyly, nose red and eyes gliterry from champaign, her own gift - a knitted red scarf, wrapped around her neck. "You don't know it yet, but I'm a great girlfriend," she hiccuped slightly, "I can twerk on it." "You mean swear on it?" "That too." Cassian laughed. "I wouldn't work," he repeted. "Why not?" “You seem like a flowers and chocolate kind of girl, and I don't do flowers and chocolate." Elain was silent for a moment, thinking. "What if I'm lactose intolerant? I won't need that." Cassian ruffed a laugh. "You eat dairy all the time." "Uuurgh, what's wrong with flowers and chocolate? Everybody likes them." "I don't. They bore me. We're better like this, it's not everyday a tight little thing like you has a sense of humor, let's not mess that up, huh. Enough talking now, you're a goner. Give me your phone, I'll uber you."

If his love history with Morrigan wasn't so chaotic, Azriel would have notice that normal Cassian would never have pass to chance to have easy sex with a girl infatuated with him. But his love life sucked and Azriel did not notice, too busy moping about his latest stupid choice as he watched Cassian parading around and introducing Morrigan as his girlfriend, making him feel shittier than ever. Not only he had crawled back into her arms willingly, he had also betrayed his brother.

Fuck his life.

His phone blipped, an incoming message from an unsaved number.

Meet me at mine in 40 minutes.

And now she had his number again.

Fuck his life twice.

When did she get his number? Damn it. He stared at the other texts ignores throgh the day.

why did u leave??? we need to talk call me back enough is enough az i think the condom broke, call me asap

Nothing had broken, and he sure as hell was not calling her. She had used that excuse to reach him before, more than once, which was why he make sure to check it before leaving the hotel. A small hive of bees stabed his spine. He need to leave her presence that instant. Sighing, Azriel took Elain's hand and darted inside de house, searching for an empty room, having to make do with a filthy bathroom when he found none, wandering into another demented conversation with Elain before he could get to the point he wanted.

Her countdown speech had been stupid, but he was out of good ideas to try, and hell would be damned if he would crawl back to Morrigan again.

"Listen, I have a proposition to you. You want to get over my brother, and I want to get over her. I hate to admit, but that crazy talk about a lover might be exactly what I need to move on. What we need. So, instead of doing weird things with strangers, let's help each other, let's date and move on." The words poured out of him fast, courage threatening to leave at any moment.

Elain just stood there, paralyzed, silent, eyes big as saucers. Azriel had no memory of ever seeing her so quiet, but a yappy Elain going mute probably wasn't a good sign.

"Date me, Elain. Date me and I'll date you."

"Why - why me?" She asked in a small voice. "You say you don't hate me, but you don't like me either. We are not friends."

Good, a question. He could work with questions. Azriel was great with quizzes.

"I'm not my brother, I don't like one-nights, it's impersonal and I detest strangers in my space. It's hard for me to connect with people I don't know. You, I know you - you get on my nerves, but that’s just who you are as a person, I've learned to live with that. And kissing you... I enjoyed kissing you more than I anticipated.”

Her eyes cast down, cheeks growing warmer at the mention of their kiss. Azriel kissed her there, right on the bright pink cheek, starting close to her ear to make a line till the corner of her mouth where he nib the skin with intent, his nose desapearing in her soft flesh.

"You said to do different, right?"

She agreed wordlessly.

"Could you imagine me having a heart-to-heart, in a filthy bathroom, with you, of all people? This is me doing different."

Gently, he grabbed both sides of her face and kissed her again, pouring all his attention in Elain and Elain only.

Azriel wouldn't lie, their midnight kiss had been awkward at first, stiffy. Azriel wasn't used to kissing someone he had never managed to maintain a civilized conversation with. Truth be told, Azriel wasn't used to kiss anyone that was not Mor. Once the initial shock waved out, Azriel found himself enjoying the kiss, quickly learning the way Elain liked to be kissed, gently angling her head when their noses bumped, hissing at the sharp nib of teeth sinking in his bottom lip, goosebumps rising as her tongue moved over it to soothe the pain, moving slowly over his tongue next.

Kissing Elain was like nothing he had ever done; kissing her was impulsive, electric... disrupting. It made he feel… something, the sparkle of a feeling that had been dormant for so long he didn't know how to name it anymore. Passionate hands closed round his neck and hair, a sharp tug urging him to move where she wanted, guiding the kiss to her liking.

Elain kissed Azriel as if he was the last man to love in the world, kissed him as if she would never want to kiss anyone else. And Azriel found himself liking that very much.

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