#fandom creation is a two way street

[mochiwrites]

inhales okay hi hello. sits you down. requesting this feels weird but. if you read my fics please give me some kind of engagement in return. it’s how I know people are interested in what I’m doing. if you enjoy something I create please send me an ask or leave a comment! tell me what you thought, or ramble away!! I enjoy it. I fully, fully welcome it. the anon option is always turned on for my asks.

even if you think your rambling may be annoying or unwanted! I will always always accept any and all rambles. I love them. I encourage them.

I completely understand that some people are just really shy about interactions (I’m the same way after all!) but if there’s no engagement in what I’m creating, I’m less likely to continue it because it makes me think that no one is interested.

and if no one is interested, it’s hard to continue it. it’s hard to find the motivation to continue it.

so please please please leave me something, something that shows me you’re interested and want to see more. I try to respond to everything I get, I do. but if there’s no support, there’s no project, no continuation. please show interest to your favorite writers and fics.

because they could be like me, struggling with motivation and thinking that no one is interested anymore because there’s no engagement. and that’s no exaggeration. that is quite literally where I’m at right now, and I’m trying to push through it.

so please. if you enjoy crime au, sea fruits au, even songbird’s blood! leave me comments. send me asks. engage with me. it’ll go a lot farther than you may think

[notfreetoday]

The Importance of Amae in My Personal Weatherman

Masterlist || Language Analysis Part 1

I have seen a lot of discourse in the English-speaking fandom surrounding Segasaki's apparent dismissal or trivializing of Yoh's desire to pursue his manga, and most of it is negative. His comments about wanting Yoh to remain dependent on him, or that Yoh does not need to earn money are seen as patronizing or controlling at best and oppressive at worst. It appears that Segasaki does not understand nor respect Yoh's need for independence, and that is what strains their relationship.

But what if I asked you to consider that Segasaki's behaviour is actually an invitation to Yoh to reinforce their relationship? And what if I told you that Yoh's withdrawal from Segasaki constitutes a rejection of that invitation, and it is that rejection that strains their relationship instead?

Of course, the end result is the same - a strained relationship - and in reality there is never one side wholly responsible for this. The point of this is to simply challenge the cultural notion that a successful relationship is the coming together of two equally independent individuals, as opposed to the co-creation of a relationship formed by two interdependent individuals.

"If only you could stay drunk forever..." "It's okay to feel down again for me too you know" - Segasaki, Ep 4, Ep 5

This isn't about Segasaki wanting to keep Yoh is helpless and dependent on him, but about wanting Yoh to be able to be true to his feelings and express his own desire for affection honestly, without having to hide behind "I hate you" or rejection.

Or, let's try and talk about how Segasaki and Yoh reinforce their relationship through the use of amae (featuring a brief mention of tatemae/honne) who am I kidding this is not brief at all

First: Cultural Context

The way people conceptualize and make meaning of the Self differs between Western and East Asian cultures, and this plays into the differences we see in the basis for our self-esteem, the personal attributes that we value, and even what constitutes the behavior of a mature individual. Broadly speaking, Western cultures tend towards the Independent Self Construal (whereby the Self is a distinct entity separate from others) whereas East Asian cultures tend towards Interdependent Self-Construal (whereby the Self is connected to and defined by relationships with others). Thus, in the West, expressing one's individuality is very important for one's self-esteem, and being able to communicate clearly and confidently is valued and a sign of maturity. Conversely, in the East, one's ability to integrate and become a member of the group is prized, and contributes significantly to one's self esteem. In order to be seen as a mature individual, one must learn not only to read a social situation but also how to modify one's behavior in order to respond to the changing demands of that situation, with the ultimate goal being to maintain group harmony.

tl;dr - In East Asian culture, behaviors and attitudes that emphasize interdependence and promote group harmony actually play a big role in reinforcing relationships and one's membership towards the group.

Segasaki is an expert at this - his "public mode" that Yoh refers to actually shows us how good he is at social interactions. This is the Japanese concept of tatemae/honne (crudely translated as public self/private feelings) - which I could link to a bunch of articles for you, but I'm going to suggest you check out this 9 min street interview instead. At 6:41, one of the interviewees comments that another is sunao, or "honest" (we'll cover this later too) and at 6:49 specifically talks about how reading situations is important as an adult. Segasaki reads the room well, but most importantly, he reads Yoh well.

Yoh is not good at this, at all. In Ep 6, we see that he does not integrate well with the group, and he doesn't realize how he might appear to others when he stares and sketches from afar. Yoh does not read the room well because he doesn't pick up on social cues and does not adhere to social norms (I'll point these out in Ep 6's corrections). He cannot read Segasaki, and especially cannot read Segasaki's amae, or his attempts at reinforcing their relationship. Part of this is because his low self-esteem causes him to withdraw from Segasaki's affection as a means of self-protection, and so he valiantly tries to deny his feelings for Segasaki. As Man-san commented in Ep 4, Yoh is not sunao - he has difficulty with being true/honest about his feelings, even to himself.

Sunao is another term that usually pops up when talking about feelings/relationships. It can be used to describe one's relationship with oneself, as well as the relationship with another/group. With oneself, it is usually used to mean "being honest/truthful/straightforward/frank/open-minded about one's feelings". With another person/group, it is usually used to mean "to cooperate/listen/be obedient, or "to be humble/open-minded". In essence, the word encompasses an ideal virtue that is often taught from early childhood - that we should treat both ourselves and others with humility and honesty, because that is how we accept ourselves and stay in harmony with other. This is what becoming an adult, or gaining maturity, means (not gaining independence, as adulthood is often equated to in the West - do you see a running theme here 😂). Of course, that's actually really hard to do, so you'll often hear children (and immature adults too) chided for "not being sunao" (this can therefore sound patronizing if you're not careful). We'll revisit this in a little bit.

Second: What is Amae?

Amae is a key component in Japanese relationships, both intimate and non-intimate. It happens every day, in a variety of different interactions, between a variety of different people. But it is often seen as strange or weird, and those unfamiliar with the concept can feel uncomfortable with it. This stems from the difference in self-construal - because independence is tied so strongly to an individual's self-image in the West, it is very hard to fathom why behavior that emphasizes interdependence could be looked upon favorably. It is telling that every possible English translation of the word "amae" carries a negative connotation, when in Japanese it can be both negative or positive. The original subtitles translated it as "clingy", for example. Other common translations include "dependence", "to act like a child/infant", "to act helpless", "to act spoiled", "coquettish", "seeking indulgence", "being naive" etc.

From A Multifaceted View of the Concept of Amae: Reconsidering the Indigenous Japanese Concept of Relatedness by Kazuko Y Behrens

*Note - the word "presumed" or "presumption" or "expectation" or "assumption" used in the above definition and in the rest of this post, can give the impression that all of amae is premeditated, which adds a calculative component to this concept. Whilst amae can indeed be used in a manipulative manner (benign or otherwise), it is not the case for every single situation, and often amae that seeks affection is often spontaneous and without thought, precisely because the situation allows for it to appear organically. This is the amae that Segasaki and Yoh most often exchange - so think of these assumptions and expectations as "unconscious/subconscious" thought processes.

Third: Amae Between Segasaki and Yoh

Yoh shows a lot of amae when he is drunk:

He whines, buries himself into Segasaki's embrace, refuses to move or let go of him, and keeps repeating "no". In these interactions, Yoh wants Segasaki's affection, but instead of asking, he does, well, this, and he presumes that Segasaki will indulge his behavior. Leaving to get some fresh air might not be as obvious - but it is a form of amae as well, because Man-san is his guest, not Segasaki's, and he shouldn't be leaving Segasaki to entertain her. The expectation that this is okay, and that neither of them will fault him for it, is what makes it amae.

Segasaki obviously enjoys indulging Yoh when Yoh does amae, because he recognises this as Yoh's request for affection from him. It's not that Segasaki enjoys Yoh in this drunk, helpless state; it's not even that Segasaki feels reassured by Yoh's requests for affection. Segasaki knows Yoh likes him, and recognizes that Yoh is struggling with those feelings. That Yoh is actually able to do amae to Segasaki is what delights him the most, because it is something that requires a lot of trust in Segasaki and a willingness to be vulnerable in front of him. This is how amae reinforces relationships - when a request for amae is granted, both the giver and the receiver experience pleasant feelings.

That said, an amae request can also be perceived negatively - if amae is excessive, or if the person responding feels they are obligated to do so. In Ep 5, Man-san chides Yoh for his amae - the fact that he expected to do well from the beginning, and became upset when he failed. He told her about his unemployment, presuming that she would comfort him, but alas.

Segasaki also does amae - but unfortunately Yoh misses many of his cues, and so neither of them really gain pleasant feelings from the interaction (ok so maybe Segasaki does, but I will argue that is more because Segasaki also enjoys it when Yoh obeys him - see @lutawolf's posts for the D/s perspective on this!).

Did you catch it? Segasaki wants Yoh to pass him the Soy Sauce, which, clearly, he is capable of getting himself. He tells Yoh to feed him, because he wants Yoh's affection. And the real kicker - he asked for curry, and expected Yoh to know he wanted pork. In all these interactions, Segasaki presumes that Yoh will indulge him and do for him things he can do himself perfectly well (and even better at that) - this is what makes this amae. But look at Yoh's reactions:

Yoh just stares between the Soy Sauce and Segasaki, between Segasaki and his food, and then just at Segasaki himself. He doesn't recognise any of this as amae, and in the case of feeding Segasaki makes the conclusion that this is somehow a new slave duty he's acquired. And therefore, he does not gain pleasant feelings from it.

In Ep 3 we see a turning point in Yoh's behaviour - his first (sober) attempt at amae (the argument in Ep 2 is debatable - it's not amae from Yoh's POV, but Segasaki responds as if it were, with a head pat and a "when you get drunk, you talk a lot don't you?").

Here, Yoh wants to express his desire for Segasaki's affection, but he can't bring himself to say it aloud. Instead, he dumps bedsheets on Segasaki's lap, as if the bigger the scene he makes the greater the intensity of his desire he can convey. It is the presumption that Segasaki will understand him that makes this amae. And then, we get this:

Not only a happy Segasaki and a sweetly shy Yoh, but also a Yoh who's emboldened by Segasaki's response, and who finally, for the first time, reciprocates touch, and considers the possibility that Segasaki might actually like him.

With every episode, Yoh gets more and more comfortable with doing amae towards Segasaki, because Segasaki picks up on his cues and always responds to them. In Ep 5, Yoh's amae comes out naturally, triggered by the stress of his unemployment, and we see it in all those moments he sounds and acts like a child, and as I mentioned, Segasaki spends the whole episode reassuring Yoh that his amae is welcomed, and that Segasaki likes responding to it. If you've been wondering why the relationship between Segasaki and Yoh can, at times, feel somewhat parental in nature - this is it. It's because Segasaki sees the contradiction between Yoh's childlike insistence that he does not like Segasaki and his desire for Segasaki's attention and affection, for what it really is - Yoh's struggle with accepting himself. When Yoh is able to be sunao, he does amae naturally, and Segasaki responds to him in kind.

Now, all we need is for Yoh to recognize when Segasaki does amae, which will likely happen soon, given that Yoh has grown with every episode.

As always, thank you for reading :))

[megachiraztfs]

Story index

Here you can find a list of my transformations series and other stories with a short summary of what they are about. If you’re curious about one and want more details or want to participate in one, just write me! I'll do my best to keep this list up to date!

Single stories

Family: A story about a poor young man living on the streets who was given a new life by fate.

Unworthy: A story about a young man who couldn't fulfill his family's exspectations and had to pay a price.

Stories from the Grave: A story about why you shouldn't listen to every voice on old graveyards.

The heir of Milton: This is a story about a faithful butler of an old English family who had earned a special promotion.

Forever Together: Being with an immortal warlock made Alec think about his own aging and how he could stop that (Fandom: Shadowhunters).

For each other: Sequel to Forever Together. Mag and Alec get a new addition to their new lifes.

Going To Hell: Robin Hood, Kilian Jones and Prince Charming start a life-changing trip to hell with some monstrous changes.

Becoming a family: This is a story about Harry Potter and his four best friends as they actually become his family (Fandom: Harry Potter).

A preference for Bolts: This is a story about a young man in Scandinavia being blessed by a certain northern god (Fandom: Marvel).

Welcom Home: This is a story about grief and the use of magic to ease that pain for Magnus Bane (Fandom: Shadowhunters).

Watch Out: This is a story about two friends who shouldn't have put on the stuff of two missing guys...

Cold As Ice: This is a story about a cloak that makes his wearer non only loose his emotions (Fandom: Harry Potter).

Love Again: This is a story about a young man who lost everything, but find the love he longed for (Fandom: Harry Potter).

Duty: This is a story about a young man getting a little bit too much into his fantasies about his favourite character (Fandom: Guild Wars 2).

Creation of Friendship: This is a story about a misunderstanding that lead to a brand new and quite thick friendship.

Spin Around: A demon's work can be quite... changing (Fandom: Supernatural).

Reuinited Love: This is a story about a forbidden love that even conquers death.

A New Prince: This is a story about Merlin and Arthur Pendragon with a magical twist (Fandom: Merlin).

New Position: For the first Harry cannot play as a seeker - and needs help for getting ready for a entirely new position (Fandom: Harry Potter).

Filling the Gap: This is a story about two best friends who would've better stay away from a magical crime scene (Fandom: Harry Potter).

Deserved: This is a story about an unlucky guy who gets dumped by his boyfriend.

Spicy Pies: This is a story about a man, lending a helping hand to an old neighbour and is rewarded for his kindness.

Twice the Thunder: This is a story about two roommates without a costumes on Halloween - beware: if you're late, you might feel the consequences (Fandom: Marvel).

The Pumpkin Field: Beware of the magical pumpkins, dear friend - they could be after you! (Fandom: Harry Potter)

Tombola: Original props are the best gift for a fan - they always go deep under your skin! (Fandom: Once Upon a Time)

Push the Buttons: Some games are made to be an experience (Fandom: Assassin's Creed)

Wishes, requests, exchanges

Life-Changing Game for soul-controller: A story about a caught-up college experience in the digital age. Let the game begin!

Learning some manners for an anonymous requester: A story about a macho man who has to learn that not everything always goes his way. With a touch of magic. Dimensional travel. And elves!

Beware of the mirror for musclebishop: As you may know, the Magic Mirror is able to grant wishes. Even those you don’t know. But don’t be rude. Sometimes even the changes are changing.

Beer Up for mcbrute: Zoro (One Piece) has lost his way again and has been invited to the jock pirates’ ship. It’s not just the beer that’s special there.

Green On Birthdays for jungwoosong: Carl really leaves no stone unturned to convince his best friend Noah to watch his favourite anime, One Piece. But it’s only with a birthday present that things get moving.

A New Look for a user on Furaffinity: What started as a pity purchase at a festival out of niceness turned out to be extremely life-changing for Nat.

The Found Jacket for a user on Furaffinity: Timothy just wanted to buy a small ball for his brother, but instead of a stall, found only a stray red jacket.

Old Rivalery for thegeneralguy: Despite unwillingness, a visit to the gym began quite differently than expected - with a very special, haunted prize from a bygone era.

The Risk of Curiosity for itsrainingdilfs: Basic rule: Don’t read out funny-sounding words from old books. You might have company sooner than you’d like.

No More Stress for transformee: In the attic of an inherited house, you can probably find some special things when cleaning up. Even a hidden old mirror.

Good old Australia for changingmen: As a reward for a good deed, a young man is given a little something from the homeland of the man he has helped. With the prospect of a beefy future.

Magnissimus for malebodyandshoeswaps: On the way to his graduation ceremony, a young man’s shoes are destroyed in a chemical accident. But with the replacement pair, he takes his first step into his new phase of life.

Happy birthday for writer-ofstuff: Stiles’ (Teen Wolf) birthday preparations for his steady boyfriend Derek are not going really well. But whether the help from his book was really the right thing to do?

Secret Santa Lottery for bizzhideaway (great story exchange 2020): After Brody had taken part in a Christmas lottery and the notification of the winnings failed to arrive, his winnings were able to surprise him in every way.

Through Your Veins for begon1: If Batman only saw that this was a trap.

Confidence for

TF Captions

A New Curse Part One and Part Two

Freckles

Back to your roots

Boring

Ho, ho, ho!

Buddies

Special Blanket

Himbo Hemispheres

Temple of Amor

Tempting Tapestry

Rental Conditions

What about Green?

Well-minded spirit

Something in the water

Smile

The wrong souvenir

Kinda poisoned

The perfect example

Special Edition

New clothes, new man

Shortage of staff

Electric

By the lake

Smell Like a Hero

For Transformation series click here!

[ohwhataniight]

(Belated) Calm - @calaisreno

I've been craving to participate in the May Prompts thing but life has been absolutely hectic, so I decided to choose one prompt and write something instead of attempting to fill them everyday. Hope that's okay. I'm so grateful for everyone who has been gifting their gems to this beautiful fandom. The past week has been incredible, reading all your stunning works!

Calm - Andante, andante

It finally happens on their holiday. John has practically dragged Sherlock to the seaside with a plan to supervise his sleep schedule and meal intake, uninterrupted from cases or landladies for a long weekend. John had expected Sherlock to spend the biggest part of their trip sulking, but instead he spends the first day running around Rosie who’s learning to walk and keeps stumbling on the unforgiving sand. So far he has airplane-fed her three meals in a way that makes the process looks deceivingly effortless, and he has even kneeled by her side barefoot, in his white linen shirt end rolled-up trousers, and built ornate sand castles for her - he has even let her indulge in the scandalous pleasure of sitting flat on her diapered bum on them right after he’s finished, shrieking while reducing his elaborate creations into ruins. Hell, he even smiled and clapped throughout.

John has watched the two of them fondly through the day and interrupted them only for sunscreen and hydration breaks which, if he’s entirely honest with himself, proved to be entirely unnecessary. Sherlock is a diligent caretaker, and John’s cheeks are starting to hurt from all that smiling he can’t help but allow on his face.

It’s currently dark and they’re walking on the beach side by side, their feet leaving four parallel lines of marks on the sand. Rosie is sleeping soundly in her baby carrier that’s strapped on Sherlock’s chest, and John can’t help but feel just a tiny bit jealous of his daughter, rested peacefully like that in Sherlock’s arms, probably calmed by the sound of his heartbeat. The beach is empty aside from a group of Gen-Zers sitting far away around a bonfire, their laughter and songs distant and mingling with the music coming muffled from the hotel across the street. He recognizes some tacky ballads and an alarming amount of ABBA songs, but he doesn’t really mind. The soft, salty breeze is caressing their cheeks and the stars are shining brightly on the velvet blanket of the sky that is draped above them, the horizon too dark to be able to tell it apart from the sea.

John remembers a moment from years ago, when they had been in the middle of a case and Sherlock had casually commented on the beauty of the starlight as they were walking alongside each other in the grimy alleys of London. He can’t really fathom how they have arrived to this point, walking silently on the sand, electricity hovering between them, after everything they’ve been through, both together and apart. He recalls the moments that have filled their day, the meals they’ve shared, the peekaboos they’ve entertained Rosie with, the goofiness and the attention and the care. He recalls the angles of Sherlock’s pale body as he walked into the glistening sea, the litheness of his limbs, the wet locks of dark hair plastered on his head, dripping water on his freckled clavicles.

“If she’s getting too heavy for you you can hand her to me, y’know,” he says in a lowered voice, breaking the silence that was buzzing loudly in his ears.

“Nonsense,” Sherlock whispers with a grimace that’s illuminated by the pale moonlight that bathes his face from a flattering angle. “She’ll wake up if we move her, and we all know how hard it was to get her to sleep”.

John chuckles softly. “After seeing you lulling her to sleep with Despacito of all things, knowing that it’s her favourite song, I feel the urge to apologize for all the times I’ve called you a heartless git.”

“If you look in the past without the rose-tinted glasses that have clouded your vision today, John, I’ve been a heartless git.”

John stops walking, and Sherlock does too after a couple of steps, turning around and facing him. “Not anymore.”

“No,” a hint of a smile appears on the detective’s face. “Not anymore.”

Before being able to fully realize what he’s doing and stop himself from doing it, John has extended his hand and pull Sherlock’s bigger one into it. Sherlock suddenly looks breathless, flustered, and John takes the liberty of tentatively carressing the back of Sherlock’s hand, the heel, the knuckles with his thumb. “Thank you,” he mouths, himself surprised by how much he’s feeling. “For behaving. For taking care of Rosie. For... for everything.”

“Of course, John.” Sherlock squeezes his hand, then shifts their entangled fingers so that his index and middle finger are resting on John’s wrist. John feels his muscles tensing at the invasiveness - and the cliche nature - of the gesture, but then again, wasn’t it himself who took Sherlock’s hand into his own, who softly caressed the sun-kissed skin?

“Don’t,” he murmurs.

“Why?” Sherlock whispers back. Rosie is snoring softly, still rested against his chest, and John is feeling as if there is no one in the world other than them, nothing exists but their warm breaths intermingling, the calm rise and fall of the daughter-shaped bundle between them, and the flickering of falling stars above their heads.

“Because you don’t need to,” John exhales.

He can’t recall who leans in first, but their first kiss tastes of salt and the fruity rum-based cocktail they shared earlier at the beach bar, sipping with pink straws from inside a pineapple. He can finally taste Sherlock, and the sensation takes over his whole body, making his knees buckle. They soon break the kiss, breathless, given that the sleeping bundle of Rosie is standing between them. Still, everything about it feels chaste. John throws his arms around the two people he loves the most in his life, holding them close, never willing to let them go, feeling the symphony of heartbeats vibrate through their bodies. He presses his lips softly on his daughter’s forehead and Rosie shifts, only to immediately drift back to sleep, curled up in their embrace.

[redstonedust]

the close proximity between creator and fan is such an interesting aspect of the mcyt community

like on the one hand ive never been in another fandom where the creators are THIS appreciative of fan creations. theyre constantly retweeting fanart, commenting on animatics, and making ingame galleries to appreciate art on modded servers. there is a non-zero chance that popular headcanons will get acknoweldged and canonized, and some artists even get directly commissioned and employed by their favourite creators. like how cool is that??

on the other hand theres. y'know. the inevitable parasocial toxicity. the people who are so aware of the ccs presence (and perhaps even actively trying to court their attention) that they get obsessively anxious about boundaries and rules for fan content. the fact that its extremely easy for fans to directly harass creators if they make fiction decisions they dont like. creators who weaponize the parasocial bond to create a rabid and defensive fanbase. etc etc, we've all seen it

its just. idk. it rlly is a double edged sword yknow? and i dont think id change it for the world, i love how this community can feel like a two way street. but its interesting to think about

[emilykaldwen]

*pinches the bridge of my nose*

Okay kids, sit down. I think things in the fandom space needs a little clarification.

Fan Artists and Fan Fiction writers are frustrated and upset about how the reblog rate has plummeted over the years as the rest of the internet moved to a 'hit the heart to help the algorithm'. Tumblr doesn't work that way. Likes don't do anything for a post, it just locks it in your personal scrapbook.

You Do Not Have to Reblog things YOU do not want to

When people say 'reblog the post' they mean reblog instead of ONLY hitting the like button. Tumblr relies on reblogs to put things on your dash. If you're liking something, then it hits your interests, and you should be reblogging it.

HOWEVER YOU ARE NEVER OBLIGATED TO REBLOG ALL THE THINGS.

Most people, including myself, will reblog from friends because we're friends! I support your foray into a fandom space I have no understanding of, but odds are if you are into it, then some of my other mutuals may be into it so I'll reblog. But I'm not out here reblogging every post I see from people I don't know in fandom spaces I'm not familiar with. It's my blog. I curate what I'd like. Some people have a dozen sideblogs for every fandom niche interest. Some of us just have the one blog and you strap in for whatever fandom chaos we go on. If you tag me in something, I occasionally miss it because I get the notification on my phone but don't have the free moment to do it and forget. Or maybe I add it into my queue.

When you are creating something you need to be mindful of your audience.

I'm in my mid 30s. I do not play in the Disney space (I know Disney Descendents is popular? That came out waaaaay after my time I don't know what it is), I don't know what that girl with the ghost band thing is that was going around a few years ago. I have fellow adult friends who do not engage with fan creation that involves minors. Additionally, I've seen people create OCs for shows like Criminal Minds. Hey! more power to you, I've never watched the show, and I know there's fic out there (I had someone tell me about a what I think was a Harry Potter/Criminal Minds crossover??? wow), but it's not going to get the same kind of traction as say, a Teen Wolf fan work.

I'm not saying don't create for your niche interests! CREATE! BE FREE AND MERRY! but understand that those creations just won't get the same kind of traction because it's a niche interest.

We create for ourselves, we share to find other people who enjoy our hobbies.

Which brings me to my second point:

NO ONE IS KNOCKING ON YOUR BEDROOM DOOR TO MAKE FRIENDS

Making friends is hard! I totally get it. But a sure fire way to turn people off way fast is to start a conversation with me but make it abundantly clear you care about nothing that I say/offer and are just waiting for your turn to talk so you can tell me about YOUR things and expect ME to ask questions. Conversation is a two way street. It's a back and forth. It is not me sitting there like a parent patiently listening to my child tell me about the cool toy adventure they're doing. I'm not your parent. I'm not your captive audience. I'm another person, and if you want friends - MEANINGFUL friends - then you need to make an effort to engage with people.

And it's hard. It's hard because so many people out there are very navel-gazey, and people get so caught up in the excitement of their own creations that they forget to ask other people about theirs. And... you're gonna have to be okay with that. You're gonna have to be okay with it feeling like pulling teeth, and know that hey! you're never gonna be buddy buddies with everyone. You just keep being you, you just keep showing the kind of person you are, and eventually it'll happen.

It's taken me over a decade to form meaningful mature friendships online. I've had friends over the years, ofc, but it's only now, when I can approach something with clear expectations and not thinking everyone is off having fun without me in some little clique, that I've been able to connect with people more honestly. And taking a five year break from tumblr helped a lot with that. I bought a house, I got a new job, I did other meaningful things with my life that wasn't on the internet.

The internet isn't actually a popularity place. You do not have to be popular to exist. I have been on tumblr since the inception pretty much. I have 200 followers and I only interact with 10 of them, maybe 15. And I'll tell you that outta those 200, 90% of them are blogs that haven't updated in years. A follower count does not promise reblogs, does not promise friends. It's literally impossible to be best buddies with 2000 people, to have a meaningful connection with every. single. one.

anyway I'm tired. I'm too old for this shit. Go touch some grass, go get off tumblr and play a new video game, join a book club, read more books, do things that aren't perpetually refreshing your dash and thinking everyone is off having fun without you because I promise you it's not fucking true. You need to have a life offline. You need a hobby that doesn't involve the computer. Seriously. Go touch grass.

[awarmbowlofhomemadesoup]

How to Build Resilience in Long Fanfic Writing

Sometimes, when a fanfic goes past 20 chapters, people who had been commenting, began to lose interest. Maybe you'll start doubting your skill or whether you "have what it takes" to be a writer, even if you're doing it for fun.

But maybe you see all those beautifully written but unfinished long fics and mourn that they'll never be finished (for the writer's valid reason or another). And you don't want that to happen to yours.

There is also an advantage to completing long fics: you develop the discipline to write original novels which can take far longer.

So if you're in for the long haul and you want to stay steady and true despite whatever popularity your fic may have, here's how to have the resilience to finish it to the end.

(Disclaimer: this is not a reason to stop commenting on fics)

#1 Whatever You Think You're Owed, Let It Go.

Accidentally quoting Elsa aside, I'm talking about comments. Comments validate and can make you learn new things about your fics through other people's eyes.

But when you see a high-to-low ratio between kudos and comments, you may feel like you are owed.

When you push yourself to complete three long chapters and publish them all in the same day and only get one response, it can feel like people are being mean.

The truth is, we'll never know why the people who loved our fics will not talk to you about them.

Maybe they forget there's a person behind the fic.

Maybe they're having a bad day and just want to shut down after reading something enjoyable.

But whatever the case is, it's beyond your control.

This post said it best (shoutout to @radioactive-earthshine) :

"Remember - hits/likes/kudos/comments are not reflective of the quality of your fic or your ability to write. Most people just don’t comment - even if they say they do, they don’t... Even if your fic brought tears to their eyes and it haunted them for weeks and they printed it out and sent it to their friends they just don’t comment. You just have to accept it.

I'm not saying you force yourself to let it go now. But someday, you will need to let it go, and control what you can which is you.

#2 Put Your Life First Before Your Readers

I have to say this because sometimes writers would have thoughts like "I haven't written for a long time; people must be wondering about it." Nope. Stop. Not worth it.

Creating is fun, but it is also exhausting. Add into the fact that most of us have 8-hour jobs or classes.

The reason you haven't written for a long time is that other aspects of your life deserve your time and energy, too. And after all that, you would be understandably tired.

So put your life first before your readers.

#3 Make Preparations to Replenish Your Soul

Long fanfic writing is energy and time-consuming. But you cannot depend on external validation to make up for it.

External validation in the form of comments can be good because we don't want to imagine it's all in our heads. But seeking it too much leads to what I've read in the book, "Ego is the Enemy":

"If outside validation is your only source of nourishment, you will hunger for the rest of your life."

So before posting a chapter, list down what you can do to replenish your soul after. Treating myself to a cafe one time helped. So is taking walks when the air is cool.

To stop anticipating responses too much, what works for me is to post on Wednesday. Wednesday is when people are less busy. At the same time, when the weekend comes, I don't obsess over it so much and can focus on other aspects of my life or replenish my energy for the next week.

In the commitment to complete a long fic, it's important to be honest with yourself. This is to be transparent with your needs and watch out for any signs of burnout, like feeling sad and tired. If you need to walk away from your fic for a while, then do it.

#3 This is Between You and Your Creation

Yes, fandom should be two-way street. Yes, fandom shouldn't treat fanfics and fan arts like commodity. And yes, there should be interaction and engagement. But before all that, there is this thing between you and your creation first and foremost.

Just as a story has to have a "why", remember why you thought you should write your long fic. Your reason may change over time, but when you remember your "why", you remember your true goal to keep going.

#4 Write like No One is Reading

This is a perk I adapted when I only get two responses if I'm lucky after updating a fic that has more than a hundred subscribers. If people barely react, then you're free to write whatever you please in your story as if you're dancing like no one is watching. Just have fun improving your skills.

This is similar to an inspiring section of the same post that I've found:

"10.) Write for yourself, not for others. Write the fic you know no one is going to read. Write the fic that sounds ridiculous. You will be so happy you put it out in the world and there will be people who will be glad it exists."

#5 Cherish the Rare Friends You Find Along the Way

Sometimes, we get lucky and get something better than a hundred people interacting with our fic -we find a friend we would make in the way of writing the long fic that we dared to write. And they're the ones who would cheer you on and cry and laugh with you about the shared stories. Cherish them.

(dedicated to @lightreader1)

[queengiuliettafirstlady]

The Porcelain Doll secrets 

The Porcelain Doll secrets 

Fandom: Ikemen Villain

Pairing: Elbert x July

Part of : Learning How to Love Myself Creation Challenge hosted by @venulus

Tag: Angst Hurt Comfort Body dysphoria Verbal harassment Insecurity Fluff

Word Count : 9.877

Author’s Note: A ball become an occasion for secrets to be revealed and confession to be made bringing two lovebirds closer than ever, past scars got mended and insecurities reassured with the feelings that hold their heart together bounded with love. 🥰

The doll of the title is July due to the her appearance she has often been compared to one. 🤗

Tag list

@kissmetwicekissmedeadly @lordsisterxotome  @aquagirl1978 @violettduchess @natimiles @nightghoul381 @dragon-liquorice @candied-boys

You can find me on AO3 as QueenJuliet 😊

Thank you for everyone who will like, reblog, or comment please be gentle with me english is not my first language so please do not leave rude comments I apologise for eventual errors I hope you will like it 😊

It was the dark of the night in London, all the mansion’s residents were wide awake, prowling the streets to punish the evil hidden in each corner of the capital.

Everyone had a mission to accomplish in their own way.

Anyone … but me.

The palace was eerily empty that evening offering me quite a rare occasion to roam its halls undisturbed, sighing heavily I leaned against a window frame clutching between my fingers a paper I learnt by heart for as many times as I read it.

Your Honourable Earl Elbert Greetia and his fiancée are cordially invited to the ball hosted by Your Grace Duke of Winchester held on saturday of the current week in his ancestral mansion in Hyde Park.

Wishing this letter would find you well, we await your presence most eagerly.

Faithfully yours.

                                           Lord Sebastian Redford. Duke of Winchester

I knew we should have attended, even more since my lover is a noble … but still my heart refused to yield to it.

Voices of a distant past, half memory half made-up swirled in my mind making me feel dizzy, I shook my head hoping, but in vain, to clear it, enough at least to let me reach my room, in a daze I wander around the hallways, stopping right in front of his room.

I know he had a mission but I hope he comes back soon unscathed, even though I know very well he won’t be, emotionally, wounds I would comfort him from by holding him close, brushing my fingers in his soft curls until he would feel asleep.

I let out a dreamy sigh looking back at our story, one of a kind, rolling lazily in the soft blue velvet sheets of his bed, as my eyes scanned each object we managed to collect together.

Together.

A word that I would have never thought possible between me and him when I first arrived, and that even now I find hard to believe, but my heart mad beating reveals the truth of a love too deep rooted to be forgotten.

Unlike the hateful invite whose pearlescent envelope still shines under the rays of the moonlight, discarded on his nightstand where I left it next to the spare key to his room he entrusted me with.

I never minded information gathering missions, after all that is part of my job, to deal with the most quiet and relatively peaceful part of it, since I am too sensitive to do otherwise.

The fact that bothers me the most is the hatred I have of parties, ever since I could remember even informal ones, but that night, no matter what I thought, I should have participated in that ball whether I liked it or not.

I should have been happy, even looked forward to it, too bad I feel otherwise, I knew it was just a mission, like Elbert and I had done countless times and yet I couldn’t help but feel panic rising in me at the mere prospect of participating in such an event.

Every normal girl would have been excited to join in.

But not me.

I am not normal. 

Everyone my age did their best to make me understand it through countless mockery, I paid them no mind I accepted it even but deep down I saw what it truly was, the tip of the iceberg of insecurities long concealed from the entire world.

I could have given up but the mere idea of leaving Elbert alone in such a place with so many people that would have fawned over him, making him uncomfortable, was unbearable to me and so I accepted.

The week went by in a blur and before I knew it Saturday had arrived.

Little did I know that my insecurities had picked that day, of all days, to pester me and were not going to budge until I felt like a rag, exactly how they wanted.

It wasn’t certainly the first time my kindness made me end up in an awkward situation, or that my low self-esteem tortured me so, but this time I wouldn't have given up because for nothing in the world I would have let him fight his demons alone, for this I accepted to accompany him.

Too bad I soon regretted my choice, cursing that mission as I found myself in the tailor shop Liam suggested to me.

The soft velvet wrapped around me was warm, a suffocating level of  smoldering for my liking, the bodice tight around my abdomen, almost painfully so, especially since my bosom looked a bit too much shown off, but I couldn't do anything about that, the bell sleeves covered my knuckles whereas the gown reached the floor, due to me being not tall enough , barely leaving out only the point of the low heeled dark teal pumps matching the empress teal color of my dress.

The only thing keeping me sane among all that mess was the stark sapphire of the golden engagement ring Elbert gifted me, the one I continue to caress to calm my racing mind trying to make peace with my heart, begging to not let my insecurities show, knowing better than to let anyone know my weakness no matter how much I trust them all.

At times I really do wonder what he sees in me, but it would be an insult to him to forget the immense affection ever present in his gestures and words showing me the depth of a love he held only for me, deep in his gentle heart, enough to tame, for a while, my doubts.

He, who could afford the very best in the world, picked me to be at his side.

He chose me above anyone else.

He wants me despite what I think of myself.

He loves me.

This alone fills my heart with a speck of courage enough to make me steer my resolve and come out of the changing room.

The first who notices me is Roger whose whistle of appreciation elicits me to be bolder, entering the spot of sun shining on the smooth parquet from the window as I swirl around myself giving Alfons and Harrison a front row seat to the show.

I do my best to feign nonchalance, feeling their gazes on me, but my voice betrays my emotions, coming out softer than how I would have liked to be.

“What do you think … of it ?”

The issue of the weird group that followed me to the seamstress is the fact that among them all the one I trust the most is Roger, whereas the other two are … well … pretty good liars.

I would have liked Liam to stay but he had a rehearsal for the following night opening spectacle and so I let him go, not desiring to ask anything knowing how much the theatre was to him.

“It’s pretty.”

His reaction was like a rain on a parade, chilling the little confidence I managed to collect back to square one, with all my inner doubts the word pretty is just what I need to hear, I look down, unable to meet Harry’s gaze any longer, adjusting my bodice as I bite my bottom lip.

I know in his head this wasn’t an insult, he just was listless since the one who dragged him along, bribing him with sweets, was Alfons, maybe the one of the three that know me better due to my relationship with Elbert.

“It looks nothing like the mannequin. I don’t know if it suits me.”

Roger was the first to talk,  perceiving the bitterness from my tone, seeing past my smile straight to the hasty way my finger kept pulling the lace on my back, rolling it around my digit, in a swift move he took it in his own hand leaving it to fall on my back.

“What really matters is how you feel in it ?”

“Disappointed. It looked so beautiful but now it feels like I am only lessening whatever charm it had.”

I gaze down, unable to meet his eyes, doing my best to drown the dark thoughts swirling in my mind, but I should have known he wouldn't let it slide off, even though he always called himself egotistical it was plain clear to me how deeply kind he was past his rough facade.

He cups my face in his hand, a glimmer of concern in his deep amber eyes as he gazes at me, his voice soothing almost like he was reassuring a scared puppy doing his best to make his word get to me.

“July listen to me. All bodies are beautiful no matter the size nor age. You can do anything you like thanks to it. That is all that should matter to you.”

“You are saying … I should be happy ?” 

“You should be proud of what you are always and forever.”

I know he is telling the truth, but it’s much more difficult to let it sink in ever since I always believe I'm not good enough.

“Moreover, there's nothing wrong with being different. You know the world is made of difference and different is not equivalent to ugly.”

I turn to look at Harrison, who wandered next to me, he took my hand in his, in doing so the light shine on the sapphire gem glimmering on my finger, offering me an anchor amidst the stormy sea of doubt swirling in me.

“I know Harry.”

I adjust some wrinkles on my gown, invisible to anyone, but me, offering him a strained smile, catching a glimpse of sympathy in his turquoise eyes.

“Thank you anyway for coming with me. I am sorry for wasting your time.”

“Don’t mention it, no one had anything to do and this is far more preferable than staying in the palace doing nothing anyway.”

I return the gentle squeeze of his hand on mine, looking at him with a smile, hopefully brighter than the one before, reluctantly I slide away from them, faking a composure I don’t possess as I walk toward the changing room.

As soon as I close the silk scarlet curtain behind me I place a hand above my heart beating madly in my chest, swallowing as I could all the insults echoing in my mind, clutching my other hand on the golden looking glass frame to steady myself.

I had done my best to avoid looking too much at my reflection in the mirror ever since I got changed, the same I am forced to see when my gaze jolted up at it, startled by the feeling of two hands landing on my shoulder.

“Our little robin looks upset, I wonder why.”

I am in no mood for jokes and I know he must have sensed it as I pout, my patience is growing thinner, unlike my hips despite the steel grip of the laces he wrapped tight, just like I asked of him, but he seems to care nothing of it as he continues unfazed by my glare.

“It may not seem an universal truth but a lot of girls would literally give anything to have an hourglass figure without needing a corset.”

Alfons voice coo sweetly in my ear but I know better than to believe his words, ignoring the way his hands gently tug one ribbon of my bodice and his warm breath fan over my neck as I meet his gaze in the mirror, soured by the bitter smile I offer him.

“I see you don’t trust me.”

I can’t help but frown at his words, I always knew he was pretty fickle but this was the first time he was so cruel. I know he was trying to cheer me up, but nothing anyone could do or say will sway what I think of myself.

“July of all the time you could, I would like you to trust me on this one.”

There is a shard of honesty flickering in his navy blue eyes while his gloved hands stretch closer to the nape of my neck.

“If you desire I could show you through the others' eyes.”

“Others ?”

“Even Elbert. You may feel what he sees when he looks at you.”

“But it would be an illusion.”

“Would you say it to be such a bad thing, if it improves your self-esteem ?”

“No … but I don’t want to, thank you.”

“As you wish.”

With an exaggerated gesture he takes my hand in his, placing a kiss on its back, I turn to face him only to see his dark coat, pouting as I look up at him.

“What a fierce expression on your visage. I am almost tempted to sweep you away for myself.”

“Elbert won’t be happy.” 

“Would you ?”

“No. I love him.”

“You are so pure I can see why he loves you. In exchange for your honesty I will be too, for this time alone, mind you. I find this dress to be quite flattering to you. It compliments well your peculiar green-grey eyes and your raven curls.”

In so telling he brushes his thumb on my cheek before taking a strand of my hair between his fingers bringing it to his lips before leaning it back on my shoulder. 

“Alfons is right, that color really suits your complexion.”

“Pale as a sheet.” 

I chuckle softly looking at Roger, not missing the hint of sterness in his gaze as he sighs softly.

“Fair, with a touch of red on your lips and cheeks.” 

I smile up at him, collecting enough courage to look at my reflection in the long mirror on the wall.

“Do you really think so ?”

I half-await half-dread to hear the answer, thinking his compliments to be mere lip service but I can’t deny the jolt of happiness bolting in my heart at his words.

“You really do look like a porcelain doll to me.” 

I smile up at him, seeing something akin to a mirth glimmering in his amber gaze as he looks down at me.

“I am so happy to hear that. I really hope to not embarrass him.”

“I don't think he will think that of you, ever.”

“I know … is only that … I want to look pretty … at least to him, tonight.” 

My voice soft, almost pleading to who or what I couldn’t really say … mayhap wishing, for once, to be enough. 

“You already do or otherwise he would have not made you his fiancée.”

I look at Harry, smiling at the sight of him nonchalantly chewing on a candy, wishing his carefree attitude could rub off on me, even a little bit.

At that moment the doorbell rings, signing a new client, I turn around to look at the entrance to that private part of the shop in time to see a flash of pink walking in.

“Hello everyone.”

Liam’s bubbly attitude is enough to put me in a good mood. I turned toward him, hoping he would notice me eagerly waiting for his opinion.

I smile at the sight of his cherry blossom eyes widening with surprise as they set on me while a smile brighter than the sun appears on his lips, lightning his soft features.

“Ohhhh July you look stunning.” Giggle of happiness bubbles out from my lips as I return his warm hug, revelling in his sweet scent as he holds me close.

“Thank you Liam.” A flicker of reluctance glimmer in his gaze he pulls away, taking my hands in his.

“Ahhh I am almost envious to not be the one to accompany you tonight.”

“I will tell you anything once I get home I promise.”

“Ahh I look forward to it then. I bet you will make some heads turn too.” 

With a wink he plops down on the sofa leaning back on the pillows as he smiles at me.

“Oh my, this could be quite troublesome to have two good-looking people in the same place.”

Alfons words make me laugh, strangely, managing to make me forget, be it for a little while, the weight of insecurities from my heart.  

The ride toward the mansion that evening can only be described as dreadful, if not for the idly chat Alfons tried to sway my mind with, and the warmth of Elbert's hand engulfing mine.

I squeeze it in return, smiling at him, ever so thoughtful he must have sensed something was wrong since morning for he did nothing but shower me in compliments ever since I showed up for breakfast, without mentioning the passionate kiss he pulled me in after seeing me in my gown.

“I would have rather stayed home.”

“I feel the same.”

Even though I doubt we have the same reason for it.

“I don’t want to share you with anyone. Tonight especially you look even more lovely, like a star.”

I smile as he nuzzles on my shoulder, leaving a gentle kiss on my neck like an overly affectionate cat seeking his owner’s affection, a really beautiful and possessive cat obsessed with his mistress.

There is a vulnerability in his voice as he speaks, wrapping one arm around my waist as he shifts closer to me.

“You are my star, mine alone. I want you all to myself.”

“I am Elbie. I am.” 

The demons in his mind seemed to quiet down as he tightened his arm around me, cooing sweetly in my ear.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He leaves an achingly tender kiss on my forehead, moving me to the core, to the point I struggle to keep at bay tears as he lifts my hand in his, kissing my finger above my ring.

Useless to say he behaves like a proper gentleman all the way, helping me get off the carriage, placing a kiss on my hand whose blush I rush to cover behind my fan, robbing me a yelp as he snuck behind it to place a kiss on my cheek, making me happy even more than words could convey.

His gaze fixed on me, gives me the confidence I needed as we walk toward the palace, my hand on his elbow, as it is proper for a couple, etiquette that didn't reach to damp the bright way I smile at the warm touch of his hand on mine, too lost in each other gaze we barely hear the chamberlain’s voice as he presents us to the hall before we make our way to the ballroom.

It was all a dream.

Then the dream shattered.

Like a mirror cracking in countless splinters shining on the sickeningly fake smile of the nobles looking down at me.

A butterfly caught by a net destined to be a specimen, that's how I feel, walking around the room under the envious eyes of the same people that make the good and bad weather in London's social season ruled by etiquette and unspoken rules, things I am not accustomed to, nor understand, like the outcast I was and always would have been.

I wish he could have stayed with me but the mission comes first and so he had to follow Alfons, I would have done anything to make him stay … but I couldn't.

I told him I would have been alright, but I knew it was a lie he must have seen through judging by his heart's spoken words.

“If you feel uncomfortable, come to me.”

“I will, don't worry.”

I assured him with a smile, but deep down I knew better than to pester him for such a silly reason. I wander for a couple of minutes around the hall but not to no avail, I have yet to catch some interesting rumors, enough to report to him anyway, the urge to run to him and hide away in a corner is strong but he is working and I couldn't possibly be so irresponsible as to leave Alfons alone.

It is already too much for me to be completely useless for this mission, leaving all the gathering information to the others, the least I could do is stay out of everyone's way and beg to fly under the radar, enough to not be bothered by any mockery.

Elbert never minded me being different then why should I ?

As this thought pops up in my mind a flicker of confidence begins to burn in my heart as I make my way toward a group of people chatting next to the buffet table when someone else caught my attention.

A grumpy woman, dressed in brown, looks down at me, before I can escape though I see her marching toward me.

It would have been a sign of being uncouth to not wait, even though something nagged at me knowing I would have regretted it, but Elbert's reputation comes first, I couldn’t make him embarrassed about me, no matter what, and so I stayed.

I am lucky enough to be with him, weird as I am, I can't disappoint him and risk him giving up on me, the mere idea makes a cold shiver run down my spine, I do my best to ignore taking a sip from my water-filled glass.

“You must be Lord Elbert's partner. I heard you were announced as such.”

“Yes, I am. It's my pleasure to make your acquaintance. ”

My words stop abruptly as she talks over me, and what comes out from her lips makes my blood freeze in my veins. 

“For tonight alone I hope.” 

Adding to the uncomfort of the situation are her eyes full of disdain, I don’t doubt shared by those around her.

“Why did you ask ?”

“You see, because I could never picture you as his fiancée.” 

“Why not ?”

“Oh dear you are pretty I give you that but Lord Elbert is a handsome earl, a pretty coveted husband for many and you ... You can't be with him. You are not good enough for him.”

Her word hit the target, like a fist on the solar plexus it took all the air out of my lungs, set on fire by the mere act of breathing, I clutch the glass to the point of hearing my nails claw on its smooth surface, faking composure I take it to my lips, hoping the sip to calm down my nerves.

“But…” 

I am ready to reply, but I was never too good at standing up for myself even more in front of such arrogant persons and so I swallow my retort along with the humiliation of feeling watched by the nobles gathered in that part of the hall.

“Oh please don't protest, it's so middle class to take any advice personally.” 

She frowns looking down at me as I am the weird one, not her for insulting me as it was nothing, with a jolt of her wrist she clacked her fan open and then snapped it close, hitting it on her hand sign she has all intentions to steer the conversation where she want and nothing would have stopped her.

“You are not at the same level but I am sure that someone else will surely do, your pretty face will make some head turn I am sure. You just have to choose anyone … but not him.”

“Why are you telling me that ?” 

I wonder the reason why she is being so cruel to me, but no matter how I rack over my brain nothing comes to my mind, leaving me dumbfounded and wounded by her treatment I had no reason to deserve. 

“Someone has to, my dear. You are a clever girl and as such you must see that Lord Elbert is above anyone. He is a deity worthy of the very best and you, let me tell you, are a bit too peculiar for him, too eccentric, we may say. You are even friends with that actor, what is it called ?”

“Liam.” 

I clench my hand in my sleeves, ready to fight off whatever distasteful insult she would throw about him.

“Yes, him. He may be a star but nothing good comes out to frequent people like that.”

“He is a great person, and a talented artist.” 

I answer back, swallowing the temptation to splash my glass on her slimy face, if for nothing else to not taint Elbert’ s reputation, even though I know he would care very little I still don’t want to make me a nuisance for him.

“To a weirdo he surely is. But for the Ton he is just an entertainer. Exactly like you.”

The words stinging like vinegar on a scar, I can only look back at her wondering what I have done to her too deserves such insults.

But after all, I should have gotten used to it. 

I should have expected it.

I should have … but I didn’t, and now I am paying the price for forgetting a lesson I should have, by now, learned  by heart.

That I am and always would have been an outcast, foolish in believing in people's goodness, mad even in trusting them to be good to weirdos like me.

Voices from the past overlap with the ones in the present creating a hellish noise that was enough to drown out the little composure I have, making me feel dizzy.

Her face looks like a dried plum, as a slimy fake smile plasters on her lips, looking pretty smug for someone who spit vitriol at me just a moment ago.

I glare at her, defiantly and judging by the look in her gaze she didn't expect nor likes that attitude.

“If I may.”

I raise my gown in a courtesy doing my best to keep at bay the urge to flee the palace, walking till I found a quiet corner of the room, her words echoing in my head, rubbing salt on my wounds, making them bleed as I try, to no avail, to patch up, struggling to breath properly.

I hold back all evening but right now I need him, I need to be with him, to feel his warmth, to hear his voice reassuring me of his love.

But the moment I spot him my heart skips a beat, dragging along the others, as it painfully beats against my ribcage.

My throat tightens and the tears, I managed until that moment to hold in, threaten to spill on my cheek, I grit my teeth, begging to forget what I just saw, begging it to be a lie, an illusion even but Alfons is nowhere to be seen, so this must be the truth.

I feel my heart shattering, the sprintles cutting through my skin, I can only clutch my hand over my chest, the gemmed brooch printing its figure on my palm as I struggle, but in vain, to hold it together at least until I will be safe away from there.

He was talking with a girl, and I could see how pretty and graceful she was, feigning innocence as she flirted with him, an elegance I will never have, always too much and never enough for anyone, rage boiling in my veins pushing me out of that mess.

The cold air of the night is enough to freeze me but I didn't feel it as I ran toward the carriage we came with, asking the driver to bring me to Crown’s castle.

It was a lie.

All along it was all a lie.

His profession of love.

Our happiness.

I am nothing more than an object, beautiful as I could be, destined to be owned and discarded like everything he used to have in his room.

And only now I see the truth from lies.

It was a cruel way to find out I am nothing to him like he is to me.

Tears stream down my cheek hastily dried in my handkerchief, swallowing the little whimper escaping my lips, as I bend in two, anger surge in me enough to numb my heartache as we approach the castle.

Once at the palace I knock at the door, smiling wearily at the servant before dragging myself on the stairs, pushing open my door and collapsing on the floor as soon as it was closed.

The mix of sadness and rage explode as I hastily took off my dress, discarding it carelessly along my corset and socks on the floor, tearing away my accessories I slam on the vanity, sliding my large velvet nightgown over my undergarments, not desiring to look at my body any longer than I already have.

The mirror on the wall stares mockinly at me.

I don’t even need to look at him to ask my question.

-Mirror on the wall, Who is the fairest of them all ? 

-Not certainly you, stupid girl. Take a good look at yourself. 

His answer is harsher and more cruel than what I expected, but nothing I haven’t already told myself. 

I take a sheet from the wardrobe covering him with it, even though his words echo in my mind, another page in the list of insults and tease written in my mind the same that came back to the surface to torture my gullible heart.

In any case I am more than sure he didn’t notice me anyway, taken as he was in the conversation. I know he was just gathering information but my jealousy made all that appear much more malicious than how it was and yet I can’t do anything to banish it.

Especially at the thought he had now found something much more beautiful to cling to.

The mere idea take away all my energy pushing me to plop down wearily on the bed, hot tears stream down my cheek as I drown my sobs in a pillow, my hand clench on the sheets as I do my best to breath regularly but struggling to do so, I stretch my trembling fingers to take something from my nightstand but clumsy pushing it off. 

A little porcelain doll he gifted saying he reminded him of me.

A shriek of agony left my lips at the sight of the doll rolled on the carpet, looking like her strings has been cut, even her lips seems to be curled in a melancholic pout feeling alone away from his lover, whose doll still stood on the nightstand leaned back against the night lamp with a forlorn frown on his lips.

Exactly as I feel now that he gave up on me.

Another batch of fresh tears swell in my eyes, blurring my vision until the only thing I can see is the faint glimmer of the ring I hadn't the heart to take off.

There is no way he could love me.

There should have never been anything between us, maybe if there wasn't I wouldn't have suffered so much over a love that mayhap was never destined to be.

What silly dreams did I have ?

What I thought I was ?

My body is a jumbled mess of softness not attractive to anyone, my weirdness clear in anything I do or say, nor noble, nor accustomed to elegance, not an ounce of beauty in me.

Foolish my heart to think that a deity, who could have had the world at his fingertip, would have settled for someone so low, a mere worshipper not worthy even to tie his shoes let alone be by his side, as equal.

Folly of love my gullible heart brought me to trust in, and only now I see that it was all along a dream wished on a shooting star, fleeting and unreal as only a love like ours could be.

On top of all that I had embarrassed him, exactly like I didn't want to, making him the laughing stock of the nobility since his fiancée had the courtesy to leave the ball without telling anyone, nor even the host. 

A lump stuck in my throat at the picture of him being disappointed in me, so much I almost could hear his voice, the same I love so much, telling me he can’t be with me because of his tarnished reputation, affirming he deem me to be not beautiful enough anymore.

I clench the fabric of the pillow, biting on it to muffle the sobs as tears continue to soak it, only one to know the depth of my heartbreak knowing far too well he won’t come to me to repair it, pouring love between each crack like he used to, not now that he has finally see me for what I truly am, a mere servant not certainly a princess, trapped in a tower by a dragon no one will come to defeat to rescue me.

The bitterness of this statement takes my breath away, torment broken only by the knock at the door. I whip to look at it hastily drying my face with the back of my hand, swallowing my sobs in a soft sigh I hope he didn’t hear.

“July are you there ?” 

There is a frantic tone in his voice enough to make my heart tug in two at the idea he had come to me, despite what I thought. The charming prince coming to the rescue of his princess, a romantic trope I can’t help but feel my heart swell with warmth for, knowing he didn’t fully give up on me. Not yet. Still not even that adding it’s enough to snuff out the flame of affection telling me he came out of his love for me.

I bite my bottom lip as I fight the urge to answer him, hoping he will go away, not desiring to impose myself on him even more than I already do.

“July please answer me. Are you there ?” 

I hear panic setting in his usual monotone voice, I really am the worst kind of girl making him worry so much over a  nothingness like me, I feel guilty about the state I put him in. I know that if I don’t answer he probably will wake up the entire mansion making them prowl the streets of London fearing I have been kidnapped.

I sigh heavily, steeling my resolve, my voice coming out at least but so soft I doubt he heard it.

“Yes.” 

Yet he heard, he listened to me as he always did.

“Open me.” 

His request though is one I can’t allow no matter how much I love him, he hasn’t to see that pathetic show I am doing of myself exposing so shamefully my weakness and scars.

Truth to be told, the reason why I don't want him to see me is that I am afraid.

I have learnt at a high price to not show any weakness. Pretend, smile, nod, be polite and everyone will stop at the facade, not desiring to see where the truth lies, no one will mock you for who you are.

“I can't.” 

“Please.”

His pleading tone is like a poisoned apple sanking in my throat, fueling the mad desire to be with him to ease the pain clawing his kind heart.

“I can't … please Lord Elbert … go away.” 

My voice grows wobbly, cracking under the weight of emotions breaking the dam in my heart as they spill on my cheeks dripping over my words as I beg him to do something I deem the only one right to be.

The sound of his steps fade away on the carpet stinge my heart like an ice dagger … but I have no time to wallow in my thoughts because one moment later the metallic noise of the lock being played with takes me out of my reveries.

“I beg you … go away.” 

I am too weak to keep fighting his stubbornness, underestimating once more the weight of the love he has for me, the same steer determination that pushed him to acquire greedily anything he deemed beautiful is now settled on me, and I don’t know if I am mad, and honestly I cared little, but I liked seeing him so clingy, even obsessed, with me.

“I beg you to let me in.” 

He must have perceived something in my lack of answer, mayhaps hearing my heavy sighs, because he frets over to add in a much stronger tone that I know to be unable to reason with.

“I won't leave you nor until you open. I am sorry but I won't go away.”

I sit down on the bed, trying to adjust the sheets as I could in case he would have used his spare key to enter my room, even though I knew him to be too respectful to force him in even if he could.

“I care about you.” 

The aching desperation in his voice is enough to make me get up, in a rush I ran to refresh my face in the sink, hoping to look normal enough, even though I know my red eyes and pale cheeks would have betrayed me, sighing softly as I open the door.

“I am fine as you can see, now you can go away.”

I see in his eyes how my dismissive answer wounded him, but I really can’t bother him with my foolish doubts, especially since I am sure he has far more important things to do than squander his time on me anyway. 

“This isn’t fine to me.” 

His eyes became dark with something akin to anger, dripping on the frown curling his lips, before I could close the door though he slid inside.

“I am sorry for intruding but I can't leave you alone. Not now.”

“Why not ? You have no reason not to.” 

I am touched by his affection I really am, but I hope from the bottom of my heart he hasn’t come all the way to say he want to give up on me, but luckily my doubt are immediately brushed off at the sight of the confusion glimmering in his gaze as he looks down at me, his tone matter of fact as he asks.

“Why should I ?”

“At the ball … I embarrassed you.” 

I sink my upper teeth in my bottom lip waiting with bated breath for the disgust I foresaw coming from him … but in its place I see nothing of the likes, only a quizzical expression in his light blue eyes as he tilted his head to a side.

“How so ?”

The clouds in the sky decided that moment to move away letting the dim light of the crescent moon shine on his golden hair, making him appear even more the deity he is, beautiful as he always was and as much unreachable, for someone like me.

“I went away before you.” 

I slide my thumb on my ring, caring nothing for the light prickle of the gem scratching my skin, unable to meet his gaze, for fear of seeing his disappointment I keep my eyes fixed on the mess of clothes on the floor.

“I noticed.” 

His words hit like lightning in a summer storm. I snap my head up to look at him, meeting his concerned gaze.

“You ... did ?”

“Of course I did. I was about to come to you when I saw you fleeing away.” 

“But that girl …”

He is too clever for his own good, there is no way he missed the hint of bitterness in my tone as a frown curl involuntarily my lips while I grit my teeth doing my best to keep at bay tears from spilling out and ruin the little composure I have.

“The one I was taking information from ?” 

The detached way he talks about her puts at ease the hint of jealousy gnawing in my mind, I unclench my jaw enough to put my tongue to use as I answer.

“Yes, her.”

“It was Alfons’ doing. I doubt she would have talked otherwise. She thought she was talking with one of his accomplices.”

The pleading tone in his voice as he looks up at me, waiting patiently for me to speak, if I was comfortable doing it, nor judging nor chiding me, put me at ease pushing me to confide in him.

“July, tell me the truth, why did you leave the ball all alone ?” 

“It was because of a woman, she started teasing me and since everyone surely agreed with her I thought it was better to go away and let you work.” 

By the time I finished, tears were already pricking at the corner of my eyes, the memory of her harsh words and mocking smile still fresh in my mind, I sniffled to keep my composure, or a resemblance of, in front of him.

“I figured as much. That’s why I stepped in her shadow.” 

I am taken aback by his statement, all along he knew and yet he made me say it in my own words to see if I trusted him enough to, fool I was to think he wouldn’t have noticed it, mad even to think to keep it to myself rather than talk to him, ever able to placate the storm of doubts swirling in me.

“You did ?”

“Of course I did. No one offends my fiancée and gets away with it. No one.”

I am baffled by his behaviour, nor that it displease me, nor surprise after all he can be quite protective of the things he loves, me above all, but I can’t help but be worried about him, I certainly don’t want him to become an outcast among nobles even though it never mattered to him I don’t want him to suffer even more by the hands of anyone.

“But Elbie, she is a noble. Aren't you afraid it’s gonna have repercussions on your reputation ?”

“She is only a baroness. Even if it has, I couldn't care less. She had no right to treat you this way. No one has.”

There is anger burning in his gaze, a threat in his smile as his words sound like a snarl quieted down only by the surprise my confession provokes in him.

“She is right.”

“No.” 

His tone leaves little space for a reply, I perceive his determination and I know that when he is like that nothing will sway his mind nor heart, but my demons aren’t so easy to placate.

“She is right, Elbert. I have nothing to give you, I am not worth fighting for. You can afford so much better.” 

Words that tormented me ever since I got with him finally slip out, enveloped in vitriol and bitterness so much I have an hard time recognizing them as mine, bleeding out from scars never healed of insecurities and anxieties freely lashed out on my sensitive and gullible heart, creating a reality from an illusion supported by the ever present mocking stares of the mirror on the wall, laughing back at me each dress I wore, each question I asked, whose cruel answers echoed in my mind wrapping it in his lies.

“How can I afford better when the best is already in front of me ?”

He cups my face in his hand brushing his thumb gently on my cheek catching the last tears flowing from my eyelashes as they were the most precious dews’ gems he had ever collected.

“July. You are the most beautiful thing that has ever happened to me.”

His words are all what I always dreamed of hearing, piercing into my core with their tenderness, their light shining through the cracks on my walls as they begin to crumble down before his love, lowering my guard for him and him alone, wholeheartedly placing my trust in him.

“Don’t lie to me. Please don’t.” 

My mind and heart are at fight with one another I struggle to keep them quiet as I gaze at him, looking into his eyes to try to see any sign of his honesty or lack of thereof, but what I saw there it’s only the deep earnestness of a pure, kind heart that loves me above anything. 

“I could never, ever lie to you.”

A light smile curls my lips at the gentle plea in his eyes as he looks up at me before sliding to nuzzle softly in my neck, tightening his arms around my waist, moved by his words I slide my arms around his head, bringing him even closer in my bosom, revelling in the ticklish sensation of his locks prickling the sensitive skin of my cleavage.

“Please trust me.” 

The same breasts that so often dried his tears and offered him comfort when he needed the most were now the object of my loathsome stare and shame. I really am a fool if I can look at them that so many times managed to make him happy with such hatred.

He must have perceived the doubts still swirling in me because one moment later he kneel on the carpet from where he presses his face into my soft tummy, that he so often used as a pillow with his arms wrapped around me and my fingers brushing in his locks lulling him to sweet dreams. 

He raises his head to look at me through misty eyes, his lips trembling slightly as his arms tightened around my legs.

“I love you.”

A strained smile on my lips, tears in my eyes spill on my cheeks as my fingers find their way to brush in his soft locks.

“I love you too.”

I cup his face in my hand, smiling at the endearing way he leans his cheek on my palm craving affection, yearning for love as he always did and now finally obtained with me and I would be so cruel to give up on him all due to my doubts when he had never gave up on loving me no matter how weird I am. 

After a while he raises once more to his feet only to take my hand in his, squeezing it gently as he cradles my face in his soft hand, the tenderness in his gaze moving me to the core as his thumb gently brushes over my cheek.

“Am I beautiful ... to you ?”

My voice betrays my heartbreak, all my insecurities collected in that single question, I feel my eyes get misty once more but I refuse to bend over to them, looking straight into his gaze, bright with resolution warmed by love.

“Yes. The fairest of them all.” 

His honesty brush away my anxiety,  glimmering in his light blue eyes, captivating me to gaze at him as the last stone of my walls crumble down and the sun of his affection manage to shine through turning the once thorn-maze in a dazzling garden, pouring love in each and every scar where once there was doubt.

At least I feel my lips curl in a smile, as a single tear rolls down my cheek followed by many more, a flood of emotions I found hard to contain until he captures my lips in a delicious, sweet kiss. 

The saltiness of tears mix together with the stickiness of my lipstick, as the strong aroma of champagne melts with the smooth texture of water, still fresh on my tongue.

Reluctantly he pulls away, keeping me close wrapping one arm around my waist, his fingers curling possessively on my hips, his hard chest moulds in my soft bosom as he cradles my face in his hand.

“I love you July to madness. I desire to keep you all to myself to cherish and make you happy. I can’t bear the idea of anyone even remotely hurting you.” 

“I love you too, Elbert, so very much. I am crazy over you and nothing will make me smile more than seeing you happy.” 

“I am happy only when I am with you. I love you as nothing I ever owned. I am a mess but you still loved me, it’s I who don’t deserve your love.”

“Please don’t say that.” 

I lean my trembling fingers to brush over his lips, melting at the sight of it curling to leave a kiss on them. 

“Do you still love me ?”

“It could not be otherwise. Never.”

Reluctantly he pulls away, sitting me on the bed like his personal porcelain doll he lean me back against the pillows as he kneel once more on the floor his ever graceful fingers stretched to take the doll from the carpet, brushing off the dust from her clothes as he hand it over to me. I take it to my chest, hugging her with a smile, happy to see she hasn’t broken despite my clumsiness, before placing her next to the doll of a prince, a gift I made him to keep her company.

The fairytale scene on my nightstand was complete once more, the couple of dolls that looked like us, sat side by side, smiled happily as they held hands, their love destined to be exactly like ours.

I focus my gaze on him, smiling back at me from his place on the bed, a light playful smirk adorn his lips as his gaze set on something on the floor his elegant digits reach to take, in the pale moonlight I see the object glimmering, he offers me no explanation though as he opens it, making its bold scarlet color shine outside its golden shell only then I recognize it as being my lipstick.

His voice is laced with a hint of obsession murking his gaze as he looks down at me, a facet of him I didn't pull away from, ready to embrace and love him as he is exactly like he always did for me.

“It seems my proof of love needs improvement since my kisses aren't enough.”

His movements are swift and precise as I never could have guessed, almost as he was used to it, scarred from a troublesome past he had spent being anyone's beauty doll, one he has broken free from I am happy to think, partially, because of me.

That thought alone warmed my heart as nothing ever could.

He put a spell on me, bewitching me to stare at him, shining bright like a charming prince.

My prince charming.

The same that galloped a horse all through the night to get to the palace before the carriage ever could, a secret his peculiar scent told me of before he even had a chance to. The idea that he spared no effort for me proof enough of his love to quiet the doubts in my mind.

I am mesmerized by the sight of him, his white and blue clothes sticking to his skin, his delicate red lips curled in a smile, his soft blonde locks shining under the warm light of the lamp and his calm yet passionate sea blue eyes, he is the very portrait of a cherubian. 

Mine and mine alone.

His greediness must have rubbed off on me but I don’t mind, I see it as a proof of the unconditional love and deep devotion we feel for one another.

He leans me against the pillows, raising my nightgown enough to lower the upper hem of my drawers. There is softness in his fingers where once there was only skin and bones, due to his habit to regularly eat alongside me, spurred by the meals I cook him as he told me himself, the memory of his honest confession makes me smile, warming me to the core.

My gaze glue to him as I feel his warm lips pepper wet kisses all over my belly, nibbling and sucking on my skin, kneading and moulding the soft flesh in its wake, brushing his fingers on my hips, tracing with his tongue each stretch mark, with his lips each mole, smiling up at me as he prop his chin on it looking up at me as I am was the most precious treasure in all the world … and I knew that to him I am.

He robs me of my coherent thoughts as his fingers make their way toward my plan abdomen, tickling it, making me dizzy from pleasure and happiness at the sweetness in his voice as he bestows professions of love on my body enough to reach my heart, flooding it with warmth. 

“My Princess.” 

A kiss of utmost devotion above my belly button, followed by a delicious sweet one at the center of my abdomen.

“My Queen.”

“My cherished treasure.” 

A soft brush of his lips placed gently on the upper part of my right breast followed by a tender one on my left.

“My precious doll.”

Hesitancy in his features as he looks up at me, his finger hover above my bosom, not daring to touch despite his eagerness to, gently I cup his hand in mine placing it flat on my chest, giving him permission to do anything he likes to me.

A light groan escape from his lips as he unbuttons my nightgown leaving me in nothing but my drawers and my regency corset, I sigh dreamily as the fresh air of the evening brush over the naked parts of my body, but the smoldering gaze he looks at me with is enough to make my heart race wildly in my chest keeping me warmer than the even the sun ever could.

I see him fiddle with the lace, I could stop him but I don’t want to and so I let him, a moan escapes my lips as he tugs at the ribbon holding it close with his teeth, enough to open it just a little bit, an erotic view I don’t have in me to look away.

I bathe a little longer in the lust lidded gaze he looks at me with as he lick his upper lip, smirking as he bends over me to take one of my breasts in his capable hand, caressing and molding it as he pleases, placing a kiss on its upper part, brushing his thumb on my nipple above the fabric, perking under his touch robbing a moan of pleasure from my lips at the relentless combination of kisses and massages as he gently switch his focus to the other one, leaving a trail of red kisses over my fair skin.

At last he looks up at me with so much devotion to have me in tears as he presses a reverent kiss between my breasts, filling my heart with his love.

“My love.”

“My one and only love.” 

In an instant he raise to tower over me only to melt his lips on mine in a delicious kiss I welcome arching under him, feeling the soft sigh of pleasure escaping his lips as I push my hips against his, swallowing my moans as he wrap his tongue with mine, letting him lead that sinful dance of passion as our bodies move in sync alike our heartbeats bounded by unwavering and unconditional love. 

Reluctantly he pulls away looking into my eyes, the same gaze I love so much now dark with lust and possession the same I welcome with open arms as he wraps me in his embrace, holding me close so much I can feel his warmth, nuzzling his head on my bosom, purring in delight as he looks up at me, his eyes overflowing with love enough to make my heart swell with affection at the endearing sight. 

“I love you July only you. You are my precious treasure, my one and only cherished doll.” 

“I love you Elbert so very much.”

There is a raw plea in his voice as he lean his face on my breasts gazing up at me. 

“Please don’t leave me. I really do love you. You are the only one for me.”

“I won't now nor ever.”

A carefree smile curls his lips as he sits on the bed, only to leave an achingly tender kiss on my forehead before tightening his arm around me as we lean back against the pillows.

“I love you as you are, don’t change.”

“I won’t. For you I won’t.” 

I murmur caressing his cheeks with my fingers, brushing some golden lock away from his face enough to gaze straight into the clear warm blue sea of his eyes.

“Please don’t give up on me.”

The shameless words of a weakling I managed to hold in until now come tumbling off my lips, so much I hope he hasn’t heard them … but he is certainly no fool like I was for thinking so. 

“I would never July, ever, for nothing in the whole world I love more than you. I assure you.” 

His warm fingers caress tenderly the apple of my cheek as he brushes his nose against mine, smiling at the sound of my carefree giggles. 

There is a strange vulnerability in his gaze, shadowed by his long eyelashes, latching onto his words as he speaks, reminding me once more of how sensitive and yet strong he is at once.

“Will you do the same for me ?” 

At least he raises his pleading eyes to meet mine, while his fingers on my waist tighten their grip almost as if he is scared I would give up on him, as if I ever could, an anxiety that pestered me too from time to time but that he always managed to brush away like I have done with his.

“Of course Elbie. I could never, ever no matter what.”

The sun returns to his gorgeous blue eyes as he gifts me a tender smile, so bright and happy to captivate me enough to reach and melt my lips on his, welcoming the gentle way he deepened the kiss, holding me close as he ravages my mouth with his tongue before entwining it with mine.

A kiss he breaks off reluctantly, leaning his forehead to mine as we avidly breathe the air in the little space between our lips, until he pulls back enough to wrap his arms around me leaving an achingly gentle kiss on my hair.

Some of my doubts could come back sometimes but I know that every time he will be there to chase away their clouds with the warm, smouldering light of his love.

I sigh softly in his embrace giggling as I feel his hands curl on my waist gripping me tightly, I nuzzle in his chest brushing my lips on his heart, revelling in the light chuckle escaping from his lips, eager to see more I look up at him purring softly at the gentle caress of his fingers on my cheeks admiring the tender expression in his light blue eyes crinkling with affection as I playfully smack a kiss on his cheeks gazing at him with a smile, mirrored by his own graceful lips as he hold me against him, enveloped in the warmth of the blankets we are cocooned in, less smouldering perhaps than the emotion burning in our hearts bounded inextricably together with love.

[vashhanamichi]

Sorry for the number of asks/questions. I am curious on what you like about Tomarry and Grindledore. Also what are your honest thoughts on Dumbledore/Tom Riddle, Drarry, Tomione and Wolfstar. What other HP ships appeal to you?

So, first of all, I'm very sorry for taking so long to answer! And second, never apologize for sending me questions, I love getting them even if I take a while to answer. If you'll forgive me, I will only talk about one of those ships in this ask, but you can ask me about the other ones in other asks, it's just that talking about all of them in just one ask would turn my answer into a (even more) giant rambling I fear. Also because I only have true strong opinions about some of these ships, so I chose a single one, the one I have most opinions about, the one I have loved for the longest time.

That ship is, naturally, Voldemort (Tom Riddle)/Harry Potter.

I want to preface this by saying that I see them and ship them in a sort of unusual way, or at least it seems so, because I haven't found my particular interpretation of them in the fandom so far (though I've read fanfics that shook some of its branches) in more than a decade of shipping this ship. But I guess all authors are like that -- we're all trying to fill a void shaped as our own want.

It's true, too, that there's many ways of interpreting canon and molding its clay. I'm not constant in my characterization of Voldemort (though some things repeat themselves) for example: in some fics I make him an experienced philanderer, in others he's as virginal as Harry, or even more so. He's angrier at times, but softer, milder in some others. More or less irrational depending on the context. More or less bloodthirsty. Harry's well of patience dries with diverging speeds. So does his sanity.

With that said, what do I like about them, the basis?

I like a combination of two main rivers of characterization regarding them. Those are: 1) Voldemort as the Monster Groom, the Fairy Tale Villain, the Nightmare, The embodiment of fear and Harry as his favorite Victim, his killing, his bride. 2) Voldemort as a Father, Harry as his child. Voldemort as a son, Harry as his Mother. Voldemort as God (or Satan), Harry as his creation. It's important to note that these are fluid and fund with each other -- God is also a Groom, God is also a Father. A bride is a victim, is a deer, is a son, is a killing, is a meal.

Alright, so on with it.

Trigger warnings: discussion of CSA, incest So, Voldemort as the Monster, Harry as his Victim:

I think it’s very interesting how for four books Voldemort haunted Harry from beyond the grave, so to speak. Until his resurgence in the graveyard Voldemort was, in his own words, “less than spirit, less than the meanest ghost . . . but still (…) alive.”

That, along with his self-appointed title, the awe and terror he inspires, his seemly unlimited power, gives him the aura of being more monster than human.

It’s also telling that their first meeting — when Harry was a baby — happened in Harry’s nursery, in the bedroom. It’s been written before by scholars who write about the slasher genre that the violation of the bedroom can be read as a violation of the victim’s own body. Even after coming back as flesh Voldemort keeps on haunting Harry in his dreams — again, violating him in his bed. Throughout the fifth book he entices Harry to leave the safety of Hogwarts to meet him again.

Candyman (1992)

A nightmare on elm street — the dream master (1988)

There’s an element of fairy-tale thrill to Voldemort and his relationship with Harry; his self-given title and his true name are both keys to understand him, even to defeat him. It’s only by discovering the truth about “Tom Riddle” that Harry acquires the weapons needed to defeat “Lord Voldemort”. By turning him from monster to human — uncovering his past, something the protagonists of horror movies usually have to do to defeat the monsters trying to kill them.

Candyman, for example, is called forth by having his name said aloud three times in front of a mirror. A similar taboo is put upon Voldemort’s name in the seventh book.

In more romantic terms, Voldemort seems to me like Mr. Rochester when he calls Jane Eyre — his strange, almost unearthly thing — and she hears his call all the way across the moors. Voldemort and Harry’s connection is an supernatural one and thus surpasses the physical obstacles in their way.

Then there’s Harry, Harry as a bride, Harry as a victim, Harry as The Final Girl — the one who got away. The Boy Who Lived.

Nancy in A Nightmare on Elm Street

Harry’s existence and his title — The Boy Who Lived — are defined by Voldemort. He was a survivor before he could speak, he was marked. Like many Final Girls he’s a teenager, virginal, brave. He’s also not taken as seriously as he should be. He survives but there’s always a cost. In the fifth book (imo the best in the series) he’s explicitly traumatised. A final girl wanders into the Death Realm. She comes back but brings something with her. She’s changed. Voldemort changed Harry, Voldemort touched Harry, Voldemort violated Harry. He comes back from the graveyard (the Death Realm) but he’s not the same.

In the fifth book Harry displays a lot of signs of trauma and, many times, the trauma of someone who was raped. After Nagini’s attack he feels deeply unclean:

There’s a deep sense of inevitability when it comes to Harry and Voldemort. He’s transformed, marked, from an ordinary baby to a Christ figure, The Chosen One. He’s made. Voldemort’s touch transforms him.

He lives between two deaths, like Hannibal’s Abigail:

Twice-killed, Abigail lived a borrowed amount between one father and the next. Her scar was a sign that she was marked for death, like a bride wearing an engagement ring. Harry was the same — his time was borrowed, between one Avada Kedavra and the next.

Harry’s becoming from ordinary child to redeemer of Wizarding Kind was done through Voldemort’s tempering. It’s as if Voldemort is God to Lily’s Mary and James’ Joseph. It took Voldemort’s decision to make him into The Chosen One. Harry as we know him is Voldemort’s creation.

That makes Voldemort, in a way, Harry’s third parent. Harry collects father figures throughout the books, he finds them in Sirius, Lupin, Dumbledore (Snape too arguably). They all abandon him by dying. The one who endures, the one who’s always there, is Voldemort. Voldemort never disappoints. His parenting of course it’s a painful one but we can’t forget that pain is what Harry knows given what he faced with the Dursleys. A child weaned on poison considers harm a comfort.

Voldemort is obsessed with him and hurts him. But he’s there, always there. Indifference and neglect often do much more damage than outright dislike, Dumbledore says. Voldemort is many thing but not indifferent to Harry.

And that’s the thing. That’s the pain of it, the way I like them — fiction is not reality after all — as a unhealthy, tragic pairing. Harry can’t live without Voldemort because he’s too deeply his. Alice Notley says it best:

Harry belongs to Voldemort. I ship Voldemort with other characters, like Dumbledore and Bellatrix, but they all have extensive pasts and lives (even Bellatrix, who's so devoted to Voldemort) beyond Voldemort. Harry was created for Voldemort, scarred by him, mauled by him. This sort of prison, the fact that Harry can't ever escape Voldemort, his Father, his Maker, his Killer, is part of what draws me so much to them.

It's getting very late here and I'm making less and less sense as I go. This is the longest post I have ever wrote I think, on years and years of tumblr, and to be honest I could keep talking about them, using other metaphors, other references. I hope it's not completely nonsensical. I really like them.

That's all for today, and I apologize again for the delay in answering it, if you want you can ask me about other ships in separate asks! Thank you for the ask and I'm sorry for all of this rambling.

[aquietwritingcorner]

Dreams Fulfilled

For @tmnt-write-fight for @haro0o )

Title: Dreams Fulfilled Prompt: Childhood dream finally fulfilled  Fandom:  TMNT 2003 Word Count: 2290  Author: aquietwritingcorner/realitybreakgirl Rating:  T Characters: Michelangelo Warning: NA Summary: Mikey had always wanted to be seen. It was something he’d dreamed about since he was a child. But now, thanks to a supervillain, Mikey’s getting the chance to live that dream out. After all, that was why he had created the Turtle Titan, right?    Notes: Takes place after canon    ff.net || AO3

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Dreams Fulfilled

Michelangelo had always had big dreams. He and Donatello had always been more prone to dreaming about what could be than Raphael or Leonardo. Their older brothers had always been a bit more practical in that sense. Long after those two had come to the realization that they’d never be accepted by the upper world, Mikey and Don had continued to dream.

In time, though, Don’s dreams had taken on a different sense. He’d come to accept that they likely would never be accepted by the outside world, either, and he’d focused his dreams on his inventions and creations. And while Mikey had been forced through circumstances to accept that to a certain degree, he had never quite let go of his dreams. When his brothers had contented themselves to live their lives in the shadows, Mikey had never quite let go of that desire to be able to go out into the world openly.

He’d gotten a small taste of it at the Battle Nexus, when they’d fought for adoring crowds, when he heard his name cheered by people watching. He still puffed up and preened a bit when they’d go back, and people addressed him as “champion” and were excited to meet a two-time winner, who had not only won, but won during exceptional circumstances.

They’d all gotten at least some of that in the future, where no one looked twice at them, thinking they were just another alien species come to earth, and not mutated, time-traveling turtles. It had been nice to not get a second glance from people while still being able to do all of the things he’d always wanted to do.

But while that was nice, the Nexus wasn’t home, and neither was the future. It wasn’t where Mikey wanted that attention. No, he’d always wanted it back where he lived, in the world he knew best, in the place he always longed to belong. He’d struggled with the desire to be acknowledged for the good he did versus the need to stay hidden throughout the years, always trying to find either a balance or a definite reason to go one way or another. He’d never really found anything that tipped the scales one way or another.

At least, not until now.

“It’s Turtle Titan!”

“Look! Turtle Titan!”

Mikey waved at the people below as he swung across the rooftops in broad daylight, not bothering to hide himself. It was strange. It was freeing in a way, but also made him incredible itchy in a way that he couldn’t explain. It was like when he’d set up a prank, but it felt like someone was watching him and knew. Or like before a fight, when you knew someone was watching you.

But at the same time, he was out, in daylight, and people weren’t running in horror. They weren’t screaming at the mere sight of him. Even when he was on street level, people didn’t run away. There was something exciting about it.

It had all started a month ago. An alpha level super villain had appeared in the city, and the Justice Force had been called in, in force. Everyone was called to active duty, including Turtle Titan. His family had been understandably worried, and his brothers had even gone, too, although they had dealt with more of the side threats, understanding that the main villain was something that was beyond their skills.

Mikey, though, had been under the command of the Justice Force, and it had been kind of weird not to be with his brothers during a crisis like this. Still, he’d done his best, even though he definitely wasn’t a heavy hitter, doing whatever he could to help while heroes like Silver Sentry and The Green Mantle and Chrysalis had tried to stop the villain from destroying more of the city then he already had.

And yet, Mikey had ended up facing off against the villain.

Silver Sentry had gone down. Ananda’s tech had been destroyed. Nano had been obliterated to the point that his nanites were trying to construct more of themselves. The Green Mantle had taken heavy damage. Chrysalis was injured. Raptarr’s wing was broken. Tsunami was out cold. Nobody was trapped. Most of the minor heroes had been injured or were unable to go on. And it had suddenly been Mikey, Turtle Titan, and his lack of superpowers facing down this alpha level threat.

And so, he did.

Mikey knew that most of the time he didn’t fight as hard or as well as he could. He relied on others or didn’t put his all into things. But at that moment? At that moment he’d focused his everything into not only surviving this encounter, but on taking the threat down.

The battle had been fast-paced, brutal, and more than a bit dangerous. Mikey’d lost part of his cape, had other parts of his costume burned or ripped away, and been bloodied up within a couple of minutes of the fight. But he’d managed to keep the villain’s attention on him, allowing for the others to try to fall back and regroup.

And then one of the villain’s energy attacks had headed towards an area Mikey had seen the civilians taking cover in. Resolve had filled him, and he’d thrown himself in between the deadly energy barrage and the building. He’d heard his name screamed out, heard the villain cackle as the attack hit, and then heard the shock as the villain realized that Mikey wasn’t dead.

Mike had stood there, his shield now a useless smoking thing, his costume in tatters, but glowing with an orange energy, sweeping circles and curves glowing on his skin.

“I don’t think so,” he’d said, resolve filling him, his glow increasing as he stepped towards the villain. “You’re not gonna hurt anyone again.”

The villain had aimed another attack at him, but Mikey had just taken the brunt of it and rushed the villain at impossible speed, nunchucks out and putting all of his skill and energy into stopping this man who had already destroyed so much.

He’d been told later that he was like a glowing orange blur, moving impossibly fast and making impossibly strong strikes. The villain had been driven back as Mikey had attacked again and again, giving no quarter to him, until, finally, the villain had gone down, unconscious and beaten. Mikey’s power had flickered out then, and he had collapsed to his hands and knees, utterly and completely spent. He’d only managed to look up again when he heard cheers ringing out around him, and he had looked up to see citizens of the city coming out of hiding, staring at him, and cheering. He had tensed up, looking for some way to try and hide, but before he could do that, he’d realized that the citizens were chanting his name—they were chanting Turtle Titan.

Mikey hadn’t known what to do, almost instinctively trying to hide from the cameras that were around, lifting a hand to shield his face, as if that would do any good. Things had blurred after that. Sentry had suddenly appeared at his side, tugging him up and away, getting him to a waiting ambulance. He’d panicked at first, until, suddenly, Don had been there with him, talking calmly to the paramedics that were in there. He’d been absolutely drained, but he’d only relaxed when he’d heard Leo and Raph’s voices on the other end of a shell cell call Don had made just for him.

He'd spent a couple of weeks recovering and, honestly, hiding. He’d drained most of his energy and hadn’t realized just how injured he had been. He’d had to take time to recover, and that had ended up being a good thing. He hadn’t realized just how public the whole fight had been, and he’d almost been afraid that he’d disappointed his father, but Splinter had just been grateful that Mikey was alright and proud of him for protecting so many people.

Letters, fan mail, and demands for interviews for the Turtle Titan had come pouring into Justice Force headquarters, almost overwhelming in their amount. Zippy Lad had a lot of them delivered to April and Casey’s, the couple bringing them down to the lair later. They’d all sat around and gone through them, and Mikey had been touched by the amount of people that were thanking him for saving them that day, or the letters from people saying that they looked up to him.

He hadn’t known what to do about it.

But Splinter had gotten up, cupped Mikey’s cheeks in his hand, and told his son that while he should never forget his origins, that he should embrace this.

And so, Mikey was.

He landed in front of a convenience store, letting go of the line he’d been using to swing around the buildings. Almost immediately a few people came up to him, asking for autographs, or wanting to ask him questions. Mikey signed things and tried to answer some of the questions, before waving his fans off, and turning to go inside. There were murmurs as he entered, and he waved at a few people as he made his way to the counter.

“Uh, excuse me,” he said with a smile at the woman behind the counter.

She looked up in shock. “Turtle Titan!”

He nodded and slid a letter across the counter. “Yep! It’s me! I got this letter—I think it’s from your son, maybe—and I was wondering if I could just talk to him for a moment?” Mikey grinned. “I have something for him.”

The woman looked startled for a moment, and then nodded. “Yes! Yes, of course! One moment.”

She turned and called for someone else to mind the counter, and then gestured for Mikey to follow her. He did, through a back room and up some stairs that led to an apartment that was above the store.

“Please pardon the mess,” she apologized.

Mikey grinned and waved her off. “Nah, don’t worry about it. My bros and I used to make much worse messes. Actually, we still do sometimes.”

The woman seemed to relax a little at that and chuckled a bit. Stopping in front of a door, she knocked on it, calling out. “Ayan? Ayan, there’s someone here to see you.” She waited a second, and then opened the door.

“Mom, I’m—” the boy inside, maybe twelve or so, stopped talking as he looked up, eyes widening as he took in Mikey. “T-Turtle Titan?”

Mikey grinned and waved. “Heya! Got your letter! Gotta say, your art was amazing! Hope you don’t mind me dropping by.”

The boy shook his head, and immediately dropped the pencil he’d been holding in his two fingers and shook his head. “No! Not at all! Wow! No one is going to believe this!”

His mother smiled. “I’ll be down the hall, if you need anything.”

“Sure thing, ma’am!” Mikey said, before turning back to the boy. “Hey, watcha working on? That looks cool!”

The boy suddenly looked a little shy and hid his hands behind his back. “This? It’s um, it’s nothing. It’s not even good.”

“Not even good?” Mikey looked over the drawing on the table. “Dude, this is great!”

“Yeah, well, I could probably do better if…” he trailed off, although glanced down at hands.

Mikey nudged him. “Hey—don’t be like that.” He wiggled his hands in front of Ayan’s face. “Us three-digit guys gotta stick together. Show people that five fingers don’t mean nothing.”

Ayan grinned reached up with his own three fingered hands—a birth defect, his letter had said—and pushed Mikey’s away. “I guess so,” he said.

“Pfft, guess nothing. From one artist to another, I know it!” Mikey said. “Oh! Hey, that reminds me—I brought my sketchbook, wanna see it?”

Ayan lit up. “Yeah!”

It was about a half an hour later when Mikey left, Ayan’s mother taking him back down the stairs and to the backroom of the shop. She stopped him, though, before they went to the store.

“Thank you,” she said. “He’s… he’s very insecure about his hands, no matter how hard we’ve tried to not let it affect things.”

Mikey just smiled at her. “It’s no problem. Believe me, I get how being different can be hard. My whole family is different. But I think you’re doing great. Ayan really seems like a good kid.”

She smiled back at him. “Thank you. For everything.”

Mikey left the store with a small bag of food, and headed back up to the rooftops, waving when he saw Ayan watching through the window of his room. He swung away, a red-bean bun half stuffed in his mouth, and listened to people call out to him as he travelled, a contented feeling forming in his heart.

Yeah, he’d always wanted to be able to be out here, among people, without anyone being scared or afraid of him, and without feeling like he needed to hide. But more than that, he was realizing, his childhood dream hadn’t been just to be able to be seen, but it had been to help people. Superheroes were just the biggest, flashiest way to do it. And now he could do that—in the shadows as a ninja, sure, but also out in the open, where he could not only help people without having to worry about being seen, but also where he could talk to people that he wouldn’t have been able to before. People like Ayan.

And somehow, being able to reach out to and help the people around him, that felt like everything he had ever dreamed of as a child and more.

[parsheliii]

Hi I drew Au art, it's called Animal-Bots

Info down the line if interested :3

Also I know I change fandoms a lot, don't mind me

I have missed some bots, I know!!! But I just drew the most important ones in this AU :P

You can ask me anything if ya want, sorry if I answer like weeks later, Tumblr doesn't work pretty well for me lol

• Fnaf 1/Originals-Withereds/Bot-Buddies:

This guys were made to do stuff for home, like cleaning, cooking, gardening, etc. They were created by someone unknown, ppl ordened this person any kind of robots for themselves to do their homework. Everything was going well until the creator got a bad review for one of his creations, Fox-Bot. This robot started to have difficulties to obey orders, he was out of control and the owners had to abandon him. The owners were warning other ppl about this, so no one would buy any more robots to this person. The creator got to the point that ran outta money to keep creating, so he abandoned Bear-Bot in his basement (he was his first creation that came out pretty well), meanwhile Chick-Bot and Bun-Bot were abandoned in the streets by their respective owners, like other more creations from this creator. (As a detail, this creator also did other bots besides this four, for example, Candy & Cindy from FnaC or other animatronics from other fanmades, in this AU those bots were created by this man, which I'm thinking to call him Scott :], besides that, the most important ones are the original 4 in this AU)

Bear-Bot (he started to call himself "Fred") is like a radio, he was still on when he was abandoned, so he had to live alone in that basement

Bun-Bot, Chick-Bot and Fox-Bot were the first comissions this person got. Bun-Bot was related to do gardening, Chick-Bot was comissioned to be on a bakery, she could create cakes. While Fox-Bot was built to guard the dock of the city, but he started to have difficulties since salt and humidity started to affect his system and making him have a lot of problems.

To clarify: In this AU the withereds ARE the originals, and viceversa, in this Au, Bun-Bot and Chick-Bot  were destroyed by the

Fun-Bots (explanation why in Fun-Bots part lol)

Fox-Bot got damaged even before of being abandoned, that's why there isn't another square of him being fixed up, he made that damage to himself, while Bun-Bot & Chick-Bot were actual victims of the Fun-Bots, even thought they can still work in some way

• FnaF 2/Toys/Small Toys:

These small poor looking toys were created by "Fred" in the basement. With rests and parts that his creator left, he could create this small toys, they have some issues, but they work pretty well for being created by another robot.

The only toys that "Fred" created were TB3AR, TBVN, TCH1CK and TF0X (AKA the 4 main toys, those names were given by "Fred" himself) he was inspired by some blueprints he saw closer to his own blueprint, "Fred" thought he could find those three bots, so they could become friends. He then decided to create these toys, so he didn't feel lonely either, while he figured a way to get out of that basement

BB, JJ and The Puppet were built by other creator.

BB, JJ and The Puppet are Charlie's toys, they were created by Henry, they were gifts for her when she was younger. This toys aren't just normal toys, this ones can transform into a defensive looking bot. BB and JJ need to be together to be able to transform into their defense mode (AKA Nightmare BB, or Night-Kid in this AU). Meanwhile, The Puppet can transform by themselves into that defensive mode as well (AKA Nightmarionne, named as The Marionette in this AU)

• Fredbear/Golden Freddy, Springbonnie/Springtrap, Shadow Freddy & RWQFSFASXC:

In this AU, Fredbear & G. Freddy are the same one, the same goes with Springtrap & Springbonnie. They are called "Golden-Bear" and "Spring-Time". This two robots are kind of the oldest robots around the city, the Fun-Bots and Glam-Bots are looking for them everywhere (The Fun-Bots want them for their parts and pieces, the Glam-Bots want to finaly turn them off). This two are troublemakers but so clever at the same time, they always manage to get out of trouble.

Beep & Boop (S.Fred and RXQ), are made out of slime and oil that came alive, this two are always with Golden-Bear and Spring-Time, they are like hamsters in a wheel to recharge each robot when they run outta energy.

• FnaF 4/Nightmares/Night-Plushies:

The same thing as BB, JJ and The Puppet, these plushies were made to have a defensive mode as well, but the difference is that this plushies didn't come out well, and instead of being protective, these bots attacked the ppl that got closer to them. They were created by Henry as well, but he decided to turn them off and keep them in a box, far away from him and his daughter.

William A. knew about this plushies and decided to keep the box and gift them to his younger son. Henry warned about this agressive bots, but William decided to take the risks, he thought he could fix them before his son's b-day. Long story short, Will tried to fix this plushies, but as expected, these bots attacked him, killing him at the end.

To clarify: The names of the Nightmares are Night (AKA Nightmare Fredbear), Night-Bear & the Night-Cubs (N. Freddy & Freddles), Night-Rabbit (N. Bonnie) Night-Chicken (N. Chica) and Night-Fox (N. Foxy & N. Mangle)

In this AU I wanted to create a mix between N. Foxy and N. Mangle, so yeah, they are one.

• Fnaf SL/Funtimes/Fun-Bots:

This robots were created to defend the city, like the Glam-Bots do. But since William died and any of his kids got into robotics, these robots had to survive by themselves. Lol-Bot, William's little helper, had to be under control of the big bots, since he knew how to fix and manage them. The Fun-Bots changed their perspective and they decided to catch all useless and useful bots they found around, and use their pieces to get better upgrades. Some of the bots they found were Bun-Bot, Chick-Bot and Fox-Bot, and much more

To clarify: Ennard, or Mega-Fun in this AU, is a mix by the main funtimes except Fun-Chick, since she was the last Fun-Bot of being created, she is the only fun-bot created by Lol-Bot. There is a version were Fun-Clown (C.B) is excluded as well, but I didn't draw it 'cause is not to common of 'em to use that transformation.

• FFPS/Mediocre Melodies/Sbiz-Bots:

This are the only ones that are actually in a pizzeria. They are inspired by the ShowBiz animatronics, I really liked the rubber faces idea :]. Happy & Nedd are the ones that play with the children, Orville & Hippo are the ones to tell stories, while Pig Patch is the one who sings and plays the banjo. It's just a normal pizzeria with animatronics.

• FFPS/Rockstars/Star-Bits & BlackBear:

BlackBear was created by Henry, it's a big fluffy bear bot that was always taking care of Charlie when she was younger, BlackBear stayed by her side no matter what, even if she is all grown up, the bear always wants to take care of her. When he isn't with Charlie, he tends to be with The Puppet and play with them, they seem to understand eachother so well even if they don't make any sound.

The Star-Bits in the other hand, were created by another person, let's call this person "the rabbit". This guy wanted to check on the Small Toys, he wanted to understand how this small bots worked, since they have a lot of mistakes. When "Fred" was able to scape the basement, he was always losing the Toys, he luckily could find them since he could know the directions they could go. But one time, "The rabbit" found the toys and wanted to investigate them. "Fred" was always outside this guy's lab and was always trying to get in to get the toys back, then, "the rabbit" thought of creating a better version of the toys, the Star-Bits. When he finally finished them, he left the Star-Bits outside so "Fred" could take them, so he would finally go away and let him finish his investigation, or that's what he thought. "Fred" was still insisting on getting his toys, the ones he created, not the "fake ones". The guy couldn't finish his investigation, 'cause one night, "Fred" was able to make the Toys go outside, not knowing how they managed to scape. The guy had to keep the Star-Bits for himself, he uses them to investigate small places.

• FnaF SB/Glamrocks/Glam-Bots:

After seeing his failure with the plushies, Henry decided to create another kind of bots.

This bots have the mission to rescue all useless robots around the city, where Henry will be giving them upgrades and fixing them, with the help of Gregory, whom can control the Glam-Bots from the inside. Glam-Bear found Gregory when he was a toddler, someone abandoned the kid closer to some broken bots, Glam-Bear thought of keeping him, insisting Henry to let them have that kid, until they find his parents.

During that time, Henry built Moon-Bot & Sun-Bot for Gregory. Sun-Bot was always playing with him, this bot was always full of energy, meanwhile Moon-Bot helped Gregory to sleep, always playing a soft lullaby.

The years continued and his parents never appeared, when the kid was all grown up, Henry could let him control the Glam-Bots for their missions, especially Glam-Bear, since he was most of the time with him.

DJ is a huge spider that can transport the robots that are saved by the other Glam-Bots, they always treat every robot respectufully and tend to be pacific, except when it comes to the Fun-Bots, those bots are always destroying what they fixed, and they need to be stopped.

To clarify: Glam-Bunny was destroyed by the Fun-Bots while trying to rescue his mates, he is still functional but can't move, Henry keeps trying to find a way to fix him

[cleromancy]

Something has been bugging me recently. Do you ever notice how people (particularly Jason stans) go on about how Tim victim blame's Jason for his own death, but fail to mention how Alfred and Bruce are guilty of doing the same thing in the past? Why do these two (especially Alfred) get a pass?

LMAO LIKE... EVERYONES DONE IT. BRUCE ALFRED DICK BABS *SELINA* OF ALL PEOPLE ONE TIME... actually id have to double check that one idr exactly what she said about jason it might have just been that hes unhinged (<- also a thing everyones said at some point) but like. everyones freakin done it. or at least *implied* it.

tim is a special case for a reason though--and ill come back to bruce and alfred later--and its not just bc fandom wants a scapegoat to pin All The Victim-Blaming on. on a meta level tim was specifically created to be jasons opposite, and to ~rehabilitate the robin role and make robin palatable again to modern readers. (and to be clear this wasnt bc readers didn't like jason specifically--it was the idea of robin at all, and to a lesser extent just replacing the orig. jason just took on the mantle at a really unfortunate period in comics culture.) so the comparisons to jason are baked in right off the bat. and tim has to be "better". tim had to prove that a robin was necessary so that dc could keep having one, he had to justify it so that the blame didnt fall on bruce for getting a child killed (or yk even just out there fighting crime at all). theres also an element of class dynamics thats. i mean. jason was a homeless street kid and tims this fancy little distinctly upper middle class kid who replaces him, without derailing to get too deep into that the optics already arent fucking great.

but tims creation aside, just as far as how often it comes up... tim also takes the role of robin really seriously, and its everything to him, so he spends a lot of time thinking about it, what it means to wear the uniform & fulfil the role. so hes the one whos most frequently in the position to be thinking about jason, after bruce. so tim winds up being the one pushing the bulk of the bad/angry/impulsive robin narrative retcon dc wanted to push bc... its the most directly relevant to him. bruce doesnt have much narrative need to think about jason "failing" or not being good enough until under the red hood... except to be like "i dont have to worry about tim bc hes not like jason." lmao. and then you have tim who does not want to get killed, like jason did, so he spends time thinking about how to not end up like jason. which is a fundamental misunderstanding of how being a victim of murder works but i think understandable thing for a child replacement of another dead child to latch onto (particularly one as prone to arrogance & god-complex-itude as Our Timmy, lol). and both on a meta level and in-universe this is about shifting the blame off of bruce and onto the victim because tim needs to keep filling the role hes filling without it being bruces fault that jason died in the first place, bc reckoning with batman and child endangerment is not smth the comics had ever really planned on doing in a serious way.

but as for why singling tim out over bruce and alfred-- the kind of ppl who do this already generally think bruce sucks past the point of being interested in ~holding him accountable~ for absolutely anything... like "bruce sucks, everyone knows he sucks, enough said." i think the logic is generally like "if tims not a total shithead like bruce, then why is he doing shithead stuff like bruce does :/" and then pinning it all on tim as opposed to considering like "hey uhhh do you think maybe hearing stories about jason from bruce influences how tim thinks of jason over the years." if that makes sense

as for alfred. people do not want alfred to have any interiority or to ever have been mean or wrong bc then theyd have to actually think about the fact that bruce has a 24/7 domestic servant in his employ, which is just the. tip of the iceberg when you start thinking about alfred as a full character and not a convenient cardboard cutout to prop up whoever the narrative needs him to. also alfreds role in almost every batman narrative is strictly as support, almost no agency within the story to have a meaningful impact, and people generally respond to the character in kind.

finally i think tim mmmmight be the only character at least as of the reboot who ever talked *to jason* outloud style about certain things relating to jasons death... this answer is already getting too long so i dont want to get into depth about titans tower. but tt 2003 #29 is a great example of the comics pitting tim and jason against each other to make Jason look worse by comparison--for all that tim doesn't actually *say* anything victim blaming jason for his death, *and* for all that jason totally kicks tims ass in the fight and its not even close, on a meta level the story is 100% presenting jason as the bad robin, the robin who failed, Unlike Tim Drake, A *Good* Robin. (i accidentally reread the issue ... im going to make a post about it later probably. god i wish this fucking issue had been good)

but yeah i could probably go on and on even further but yeah, i think thats where people are coming from when they single timmy out. tim only exists at all bc of jason n would be fundamentally unrecognizable without having been crafted to be the anti-jason. and on top of that he has repeatedly been used by dc to make jason look worse (or rather jason was used to make tim look better), and a lot of my fellow jason stans understandably resent tim for it. i however am built different, and want them to kiss.

[jinneu]

maybe it's controversial but.... it really shouldn't be hard to be normal about characters and enjoy media without making a manifesto of only One correct opinion and only One correct interpretation of how things would/must be, when it comes to said characters and/or their interactions— including the way they would act in romantic or platonic relationship (as if it's not a two-way street, which often means taking care of each other in various ways, because that's literally how human relationships work— especially if characters we're talking about are multifaceted and nuanced) and yet here we are.

there's no one(1) correct and ultimate way to interact with characters and fandom.

there's no way we know literally everything about the characters, because we, in fact, don't (screentime, them being fictional, and lol a lot of them are literally 15 and like... a lot of things can change and/or develop over time)

headcanons is something that is present in every fandom, because it's the act of expanding the universe and canon material we already have. and there's nothing wrong with it— same about exploring different concepts and interpretations without taking it to extremes. there's also no need for arguing about what thing is more canon, because there's no such thing unless it's explicitly stated in the show— and even so, in some cases there might be various ways to interpret it, unless it's something very straightworfard, like will's favorite candy being Reese's Pieces.

having headcanons is perfectly okay, but policing and pushing your headcanons/theories/etc onto others is not, no matter how canon one thinks they are. different interpretations can coexist! that's how fandom always worked, it's about fun and creation, not about arguing or trying to be the most correct and supercilious. peace ✌️

[vryfmi]

talk shop tuesday!!!! I love love LOVED your piece for the tea toast & ghosts zine – what was your experience in planning and creating it? was it a challenge to combine both art and writing, and did your art influence your writing or vice versa? I'd love to hear about your thought process in the creation of that really cool piece :D

thank you so much! it's really nice to hear especially since it's my first posted writing!

if im being honest i wanted to write an article from the very beginning, it was the overall idea that was ever changing but eventually i found it. since TTG zine's topic was your favourite thing about l&co, and i had no idea how to incorporate skullyle and it was too much work to come up with technical parts of ghost-lamps (tho i did dive deep into street lights' wiring at one point), i figured i'd stick to my favourite thing of all - worldbuilding and dark stuff!

The Idea™, at first, was to come up with a few cases and illustrate them, but the longer i rotated those the more i didn't like the prospect of making something separate and not rooted into canon. so i skimmed through the books while looking for any mentions of Fittes and Rotwell cases, since back then i already decided to use the Mud Lane Phantom's story. the other two i took are from TSS and THB and they were vague enough to be able to lengthen them to an article entry.

i outlined ideas first, what themes i wanted to convey, what i wanted to put out there for fans and how these cases would've work with each other. from the that point i started drawing the illustrations. quite a backwards process. and it all sounds good on paper but in reality irl struggles really weren't making me any favours and i wasn't meeting deadlines at all, but mods team was patient and understanding with me, they are literally the best!

for Mud Lane i went for slight mockery of pioneers because, well, yeah. there was quite a lot of made up lore that i decided to cast aside (like what if "today" at the crossroad there's a statue of Fittes and Rotwell? a museum? a tourist attraction? a gift shop?). overall im just really proud of illustration that i did, i should draw more of Marissa and Tom at some point.

fun fact and easter egg of sorts: Marissa's pose was supposed to be an homage to first poster of the series and the way Lucy stands in it! i think it got lost along the way as i changed the pose but i think it's still readable enough. i love drawing parallels between the two (:

[id: a side by side of Marissa in illustration, where she's holding her lantern with her right hand and looking beyond the viewer, and Lucy from the first Netflix' poster, where she stands in a simillar manner but points with her rapier at something out of view./end id]

picking one case set 50 years before the others ment that i'd have to contrast them, draw a parallel and make them work against each other to bring up the best and the worst. The Shoreditch one was, admittedly, more of that coming up with something that wasn't there in the first place. first book only mentioned patrols and i latched onto them. (plus i was drafting it at around the same time as l&co bigbang came out and i was massively inspired by my teammates work which incorporated those patrols but in metro tunnels. great case-fic btw). mainly i went for darker aspects of agent's work there, thinking that to fit in sewers the team would've been of smaller children, and that Kipps (yeah, he's there in illustration) would be as close to them as possible, unlike other inspectors we are used to seeing.

Holland Park Hounds was the one that i was the most excited for because wdym we as a fandom don't talk about possible animal-ghosts?? sure, it could've been Changer(s) but is it really? plus how badass of Holly to be part of it AND it was famous enough that Lucy knew of it as well!

Holly Munro pushed a stray hair or two behind her ear. ‘Well, I’ve seen some things. I was there in the Holland Park Cellar case, when our party got blockaded underground by those seven spectral dogs. It was quite a tight spot. And after that—’ ‘I heard about Holland Park, Holly, and I can tell you the thing that makes the bloody footprints is ten times worse. I’m only saying. I don’t want to frighten you. I just wouldn’t want you to get hurt.’ (THB)

innitially i wanted to do something about a horse-phantom that was mentioned somewhere but for the life of me i couldn't find it in books, so i'll leave it for my next reread. but this case has so much more ties to the main gang and especially Holly herself. i really wanted to draw a picture of her and her team after the case but no composition really worked so i kept it to park's plan (my urban planer friend said it looked good even). plus giving a plan and thorough haunting information somehow felt very Rotwell to me.

aaand i think that's it! not much to say for back cover only that my friend really disliked my choice of comic sans for one of the adverts. and that i wanted to make it gritty, as if its a wall right around the corner of the Fittes ball court.

[archer-kacey]

Introduction/ The Illusion of Living

Introduction

To clarify, there are two pages of the actual "Introduction", followed by a section labeled "The Illusion of Living," which is ANOTHER introduction. I'm crying.

The FIRST Introduction is all fluff, Joey yaps to his cab driver (just known as "Simmons") and sees a Borzoi, and immediately typecasts it as a villain OC to go up against Bendy. That's it. Next section.

The Illusion of Living [The What]

Joey does a horrible job at giving a simple explanation of the Illusion of Living, but not for the reason you'd think. At first it seems to boil down to "the art of lying" or "joey caps for five years," if you will. He also, unsurprisingly, thinks he's a genius and that his philosophy is a gift to mankind.

"It is a life philosophy, but unlike some of our great past thinkers, I did not come to any conclusion through thought and careful meditation. Instead it was born within me. My whole existence has been shaped around this concept. It just took some time for me to learn how to articulate it to others."

"I've always believed that we can communicate to even the simplest person. Communication is everything."

"We are all dreamers at heart, and I want to make sure that all of your dreams will indeed come true thanks in no small part to my unique insights."

But then Joey says something interesting for once, and it seems to imply that the Illusion of Living is a two-way street. Joey believes that reality is also fiction, but it seems to work in reverse as well.

"So in the briefest of explanations: The Illusion of Living is the art of mimicking real life on the big screen."

Real life ---> Big Screen. So not only is fiction reality, the two are interchangeable.

Illusion of Living [Bendy]

"I am a very self-aware person."

Joey goes on to talk about Bendy, but there's...another aspect I'll be sure to bring up before we close on this section.

"I am not offended that he is first in your heart. He is, after all, first in mine. He was my very first creation- one could even call him my firstborn."

"Bendy is my muse. He is also my messenger. He tells the stories of our lives in absurd, hilarious ways that put all of it into perspective. He reminds us that what we truly need in this world is joy and laughter. Money doesn't matter, power doesn't matter, not when we acknowledge the Illusion of Living."

Nathan adds a footnote here that the Illusion of Living wasn't the only thing important to Joey. He knew the value of a dollar and was a good businessman. So apparently, the money did matter after all. Are we shocked that a Capitalist required money to achieve his goals and aspirations?

"He isnt' real others might argue. Such a ridiculous argument "isn't real." We can see him, we can touch him, kids snuggle with their stuffed Bendys at night. He has more fans than the Marx Brothers! What is real if he isnt'?"

"I tell people that Bendy is the perfect example of my philosophy. He is its manifestation. Or as I like to say, "Dreams come true."

Joey isn't entirely wrong here. We see movie franchises IRL that have a huge influence on pop culture all the time, and we see fandoms and cult followings spring up from said media. The impact is real, if not the characters themselves.

"Your dreams can come true. Because, as I've explained, illusion and reality are the same thing."

Again, the Illusion of Living is an insistence that reality and fiction are one and the same.

I'm going to swap a line from the end of the Bendy section to here, because I want to touch on something I noticed afterwards.

"Now I'm getting ahead of myself. I get excited and tell the story too fast. That's what editors are for I suppose."

Nathan adds a footnote here that IOL went through three different editors, finally landing on the desk of Sandy Pommel (another rando), who opted to put back in a lot of the remarks in order to 'truly capture Drew's charm," as Nathan puts it. (My girl wanted that edit credit so bad lmfao)

ANYWAY, let's take a look at these little slices of IOL I've been saving for last.

"I tell people that Bendy came to me in a dream."

"No, what I had to do was want the dream in the first place. To know that I needed a creation so perfect, so accessible to so many people, that it would help me change the way the world saw itself. That was my dream. I was awake, I knew what I wanted; I made it happen."

He mentions wanting to "change the way the world saw itself" through bendy. Wanting to create a character that was "accessible to so many people." Later in IOL, we see Joey discuss with Abby what he wants Bendy to be like. Not Satan, he specifically clarifies, but an imp-like character, someone mischievous. We know Joey believes reality and fiction can be swapped out for each other, so that could be the world change he was talking about, but I think he also wanted people to recognize their own impish nature- getting into trouble and laughing every once in a while. Or maybe, just maybe, I've been reading the words of Joey Drew for too many hours.

"Only then did Bendy appear to me. Only then did I start working with other artists to make him a reality. But you see, I first made my dream. And then I made my dream come true.

Working with other artists, eh? Like who, Joey?

Also, note the insistence that he created Bendy first, directly after that sentence. As if trying to convince himself that Henry had no part in creating Bendy, and trying to keep his story straight in the way he wants it portrayed to the public.

(This facade later crumbles on page 154, with Joey pretending not to miss or need him at the studio and failing horribly.)

Things get really interesting when Joey describes Bendy's creation. He sees it as his big dream being fully realized. To him, this is also the"birth" of his son, or at the very least, the creation of his muse, messenger, and avenue to tell his stories. "I tell people that Bendy came to me in a dream" is a coverup of course, some smoke and mirrors to convince people that he had an epiphany and came up with Bendy himself, but he also clearly sees it as a wonderful event.

We know Henry created Bendy, of course. We know it wasn't Joey's hand that ultimately struck paper. However, that doesn't make Joey's feelings any less real.

During Bendy's creation, there are two truths happening at the same time to make the full picture. Henry drawing, and hell, maybe Joey bouncing a couple ideas off him. The process takes just minutes, but it feels like hours. Bendy is created, and Joey is there to witness it. And to Joey, it's the most perfect creation in the world. And he's going to share this creation with Henry, this dream with Henry.

I am not being hyperbolic when I say that, to Joey, Henry created his son.

TL;DR The Illusion of Living is Joey's philosophy that reality and fiction are one and the same. Joey wants his OC to be real so bad. Joey views Bendy as his actual son and Henry created him and also Joey was there for his creation so what I'm saying is Henry created a son for his business partner and they were just gonna chill like that until Henry left and broke his heart or something

[floweroflaurelin]

just wondering, what inspired you to start drawing mcyts?

That’s a great question!

My journey into MCYT started when I found Pixlriffs’ Minecraft Survival Guide series, which was still on its first season at the time. I hadn’t played Minecraft since I was a teenager but the Village and Pillage update was out and I’d heard they were doing bees next, so when I typed Minecraft into YouTube I just happened upon Pix’s channel! It was literally the perfect thing to have on in the background while I did schoolwork (chill vibe, extremely pleasant voice, teaching me things, colourful) and so I just enjoyed that for a while.

Eventually I got curious about Mumbo’s technical challenges and “building your silly redstone ideas” videos that’d show up in the recommended, and from there I watched his hermitcraft videos, and then I got into Iskall and Xisuma and eventually Grian and Scar through the Sahara Street build off in s6, and then when season 7 rolled around I was all in! I added new POVs as the season progressed.

And then Pixlriffs, who was still my main guy to watch, joined the first season of Empires! 3rd Life had introduced me to Joel and Scott and Jimmy and so I started watching their POVs after a while too.

The Copper King’s exile arc coincided with a very busy part of the semester for me and I was feeling really burnt out from not getting to make any personal art, so I kept myself awake during a lecture by painting him in the Thunder Shrine and it was the first post to this blog in like a year. But people liked it a lot! I had no idea there was a whole Empires fandom at the time and finding that was really cool! And then Pixlriffs, having seen the painting, sent me an email to tell me that he also really liked it, which was so kind of him to do. After that I was like “cool this is the only thing my brain will think about for the next two years” 😆

Flash forward from there and I’ve gotten to work directly with some of the CCs, my Saint Pearl idea was made canon and inspired multiple builds, one of my paintings was brought into the game and resides in Pix’s base, my as-yet-undrawn empiressona is a canon character in Sanctuary’s lore, I designed Hermes’ in-game outfit… So many extremely cool things!! And I’ve made so, so many friends in this community! I just keep getting more and more inspired by the artists and writers in the fandom and the unique way that stories are told in the Minecraft rp format—the way that fan creations can interact with the CC creations is like nothing I’ve ever seen before!—and I’m so happy to be a part of it. It’s the creativity from literally all sides that makes me inspired to keep painting mcyt stuff! (That, and the adhd lmao)

Thanks so much for the question!! I hope to be here making art for a while yet 😊