#mini character studies

[python-nebula]

I will never not be devastated at the fact that Edwin, this (forever-)16-year-old who doesn't know how to fight like Charles, or use a weapon, or anything like that, can run so much faster than Charles, or anybody in the show for that matter. Because he's had to. He's had to for 70 years. And he's still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Crystal (in her 'past life') learnt to insult people because (it seems like) that was the only way people would listen to her (aka her parents).

Charles learnt to immediately go on the offensive (to protect others, not himself) because he can't let anyone else be hurt the way he was hurt by the person who was supposed to care for him.

Niko learnt to forgive people and take the kindest route because that was how her dad taught her to be, how he'd want her to be.

Jenny learnt to close herself off from people because she's been too open in the past, and she can't afford to be vulnerable again.

And Edwin learnt to run, because there was no point in fighting back, because the only way he wasn't going to have to watch his own corpse be horrifically murdered again and again was if he ran.

The final scene of the show is the first time he's stopped in one hundred and eight years.

[yawnderu]

I'm sorry but being with simon at the beginning of a relationship would be so awkward.💀

Like...

You can't take pics, you can't know about his routine, you can't know about his work and so goes on.

So or are you with him for the cock or because you have the syndrome of falling in love with strange men

>This turned into a mini character study. 😔🗣️

Good dick has taken you places you wouldn't even go to with a gun.

Simon is a kind man. Truly, he is. He's just... slightly strange. You don't know much about him other than the fact that he has served in the military— something he never even told you, you simply guessed by the dogtags he never takes off and the plethora of scars adorning his pale body, a privilege you didn't get until he realized he could trust you... for the most part.

For a man like Simon, vulnerability was nothing but a highly-desired privilege. Something he wouldn't allow himself to have ever again, hiding his face under different masks that caused the reactions he was looking for— intimidation and fear, the skulls doing nothing more than serving the purpose of representing all he was, a ghost. A man who died a long time ago, way before he was tortured by the greedy, cruel hands of Manuel Roba.

It's not that Simon doesn't love you, he simply doesn't know how to allow himself to be vulnerable. How to put down the walls he spent a lifetime building, serving as shelter from his father's abuse, nothing but a mere way of shielding the broken pieces of his soul, not allowing anyone to trample what little he had left.

... not until you came, at least. Sweet little thing, never moving away from his side even when Simon told you nothing good comes from men like him. Perhaps it's unfair, yet Simon only warned you once. Had a long chat with you about how you could do better— only for you to find yourself already tangled on his web, unable to leave even if you wanted to... and good for him, because the idea of leaving him never once crossed your mind no matter how difficult he could be.

For you, it was a test of patience and care, wanting to peel every single layer of the man Simon Riley is, yet for him, it's a new chance at life. The holy light, in a way, guiding him into a path he never found himself roaming, a path he never even thought he'd have the chance to see, not when he was such a tainted, dirty man, sins that would last him a lifetime easily forgotten the moment your arms wrap around him, holding him with such tenderness one would've thought he's made of expensive fine china rather than scar tissue and trauma.

It's not like Simon is a bad partner— quite the opposite, truly. He has a way with words, reassuring you that there'll be a time where he's able to reveal more about himself and what he does, having a scheduled delivery of flowers and food almost every day he's gone, wanting to keep you happy even when he's on the other side of the world, gaining more enemies by the day.

... And yet he is not afraid anymore. His enemies die with Ghost, by his punishing hand or that of an ally. The moment the mask comes off, he's your Simon. Yours and only yours, never even allowing himself to look at other women, he has the most gorgeous one by his side, one that loves him with all she has, making him feel like a proper lad for the first time in his life.

[aquapolis]

can we talk the fact that when fujiko lost her memory her first observation about lupin was how he looked like a nice person and he reacted like that was the most painful, horrible thing he'd ever been told by a woman who's literally held him at gunpoint multiple times I'M DYING TO TALK ABOUT THE FACT TH

[skywalkr-nberrie]

I love the nuances people find in Padmé’s character, namely when we’re discussing the topic of her death, I love that we can make out parallels with Anakin and Padmé that reflect one another by saying Padmé feels partly responsible for the deaths and atrocities Anakin’s caused because they were all in her name, topped with the idea that she lost the will to live because she lost everything she loved so dearly for and worked for in just a few hours, or the idea that she simply couldn’t bare to live in a world without her Anakin.

The core idea that even Lucas backs up on Padmé’s death, and is supported by the EU that Padmé couldn’t handle the heartbreak of losing Anakin to the dark side, which GL states in Star Wars Archives (1999-2005) that Padmé lost heart the moment she took what Anakin did as him not trying to save her life, but to gain more power. It’s this idea that breaks her heart and is unendurable for her. Because Padmé could understand Anakin’s actions if they were out of pure love and fear of losing her, but not if it’s a gain to obtain more power. There’s honestly so much we can dissect of her character, on how she lived, also on how she died. I could go on and on talking about her and never get tired.

[bicheetopuff]

listen i'm someone who thinks endeavor is hot because i am a gay man with eyes that can see and i personally think hating him is as easy as breathing. personally.

and loving katsuki with my entire heart is easier than breathing because he's just a boy who went through so much shit. including, but not limited to, a mother that clearly should not have been a parent, a school that restrained him on LIVE TELEVISION, a group of villains KIDNAPPING HIM, LITERALLY DYING, and so much more.

(i could go on an entire rant about his mother but i will. hold myself back. but i will at least say i think she's responsible for katsuki blaming himself for all might's retirement with the fact she told his teachers, in front of him, that if he hadn't been so weak, he wouldn't have gotten kidnapped, and then during deku vs kacchan 2, he literally repeats what she said to him while CRYING)

like yeah. i like endeavor's bara tits. i think he's hot. but you know what's NOT hot? child abuse. and that is why i hate everything about him except his chest.

LMAO you know what? I respect that.

Like, I’m surprised Endeavor’s able to carry those things around without a forklift. Maybe that’s where he stores all of his good qualities? Cuz you sure as hell don’t see them anywhere else…

Also, you’re right about Mitsuki and should say it. I’ve always had mixed feelings about her but I’ve always leaned more towards not liking her. I’m not sure if the way she hits Katsuki belittles him is meant to be a gag, but it’s always rubbed me the wrong way. It reminds me how a lot of how Katsuki anti’s think Katsuki’s completely at fault for his behavior, but the way Mitsuki treats him proves that that isn’t the case at all.

Like, if Mitsuki hitting him on impulse out of frustration and telling him the reason something bad happened to him was because he wasn’t strong enough to prevent it was a regular thing throughout his childhood, then no fucking wonder he ended up the way he did?

When he fell in that river, his first thought was probably “if I wasn’t so weak and clumsy, maybe I wouldn’t have fallen…” so of course Izuku—the kid the whole neighborhood has deemed as the weakest link—offering to help him, insulted him because of how his mom has trained him to feel. The thought of not being perfect at everything in order to avoid mistakes, is scary to him, so when this kid who isn’t good at anything (in his four year old mind) thinks Katsuki isn’t strong enough to help himself, it scares him. Because that must mean he’s weaker than the weakest link in some capacity.

He probably associated losing with getting scolded and hit upside the head by his mom until he eventually grew up to punish himself mentally the same way his mom did. And that hurts my feelings.

It’s such a subtle detail, but I do think it’s genuinely an important aspect to his character that gets overlooked since it’s painted as a gag. Like, I know people just see him as an asshole, but he was literally taught the behavior from his mother, as well as being abused by her, and his dad never did anything to stop any of it. It’s even mentioned again during his remedial course and it hurts that he legitimately thinks it’s normal to be treated that way…

[obamousse]

Suna has such a slim waist because he has his own sets of abs exercise, and do them along with the team's practice exercises. New team members question it, but the coach only says "Suna has a special exercise". Suna's mom even registered those special exercises for him with the coach.

Suna also does those exercises when he's at home, which his mom observes. Suna might be nonchalant to everything, even volleyball, but he pays attention to it a lot. So much so, even if his exercises are gruesome (his teammates tried it out once and they ended up with sore abs for weeks), he still did it on routine. As if it was routine for him, as if it was the norm. She asked him about it, to which he answered:

"It's routine mom."

But routine doesn't appear out of nowhere, doesn't it?

Even if Suna does not notice how passionate he is, his mom knows. She has brought her son up to be independent and responsible for himself, to take initiative for the things he cares for.

Even Kita is impressed by Suna's maturity.

Suna started volleyball when he was in middle school, at a low point in his life, his parents divorcing. He was recruited into his school team because he was tall, but only stayed for a year. He was the ace, until he had to move back to China with his mom, and volleyball became a memory.

Until he picked it up in the final years ofmiddle school and also became the ace. The prefecture seemed to lack volleyball players. For the first time, he saw people with incredible skills, wits, and perseverance fighting one another for victory. He fought too, using his intuition to block the spiders, twisting his body in all directions, but failed to catch up to new, complex moves and strategies. Those he never learned in Aichi, those his teammates were also baffled and gave up on decoding. Except Suna. Except the persistent, annoying middle blocker who gradually reduced his jumping time and corrected his blocking until he became an actual threat in the final moments of the match. The battle for individual points between him, and the strong, bullheaded spiker. Two bulls, locking horns with one another. He lost. The ball landed on his side, and the final point belonged to Yako Junior High.

He stared at the people, no, twins, with identical and symmetrical black hair, staring at him, panting. He was panting too. He had never thought of exerting this much effort. He starts slow, and even slacks off when their team gains a comfortable score, but at the end when his team has less points, he works. Hard, persistent, his strange analytical mind in full use, never backing down, never giving in to fate. As if giving in to fate kills him, taking ever scrap of chance to win. He gets tired easily, yet has incredible stamina, able to last through 5 sets. It has been so long since he rested. Those twins must be using tricks to make him work hard, overexert himself because they thought he is easily tired from his lack of movement. They were dead wrong, because he was willing to go for another jump, forcing them to go for another jump, exhausting them out while exhausting himself too.

One of the twins, the loud setter, said:

"This one's hard ta crack, Samu."

A compliment. Suna felt weak and numb in his legs.

He fell down, body embracing the floor, arms out. Breathing, unblinking eyes staring at the high, high floor of the gymnasium. And he smiled. Exhilarating. Battling like that is exhilarating. Thinking, strategizing, competing, working with every tether of his body, everything he had. The first time he saw people play volleyball at a new level. How challenging, how diverse the number of attacks. How they elegantly outsmarts him and he cannot help but admire. He forgot time, smiling like a dork, as the twins of Yako Junior High walked away. The quiet spiker stole a glance at him anyway, staring down at him limp on the floor, smiling for no reason.

He is a lazy kid. He never felt so much love for working himself hard until he collapses, as if what he is working for is a passion. A passion, and so he realized.

For the first time (not like in year three as everyone around him assumes to be), he fell in love with volleyball.

That he still remembers. In his being, in his mind he knows, even in his muscles and flesh.

[ravs6709]

idk if this is something im maybe hallucinating or maybe its just the posts that i see occasionally but ifl sometimes its hard for the fandom to let yjh exist outside of kdj?? like i know the whole kdj being the reason for the story and yjh as an extension to exist is a thing but yjh separating himself from the narrative and establishing himself as not just the protagonist but a person is Also a thing and i feel like we don't talk about it as much.

like i dont know man!! maybe this is all in my head but sooo much of the yjh content also doubles as joongdok?? and you KNOW i love good joongdok but where are the character studies. where are the deep dives. where is the acknowledging yjh as an intricately convoluted and complex characters with his own wishes and desires and the way those desires fuel the narrative like goddddd hes SUCH a Character i think we need to discuss it more. anyways hes my fave btw no one gets him like i do

NO YOURE SO RIGHT THAT IS EXACTLY WHATS HAPPENING

Like yjh becoming a Person is his whole growth??? I haven't been consuming nearly as much orv content, and I'm pretty sure it's for this very reason cause I want more character studies so bad!! Or dynamics with other members of kimcom!!

You ever think about him and mia, mia who is suddenly so distant from her brother, you ever think about him and jihye, how she wants to be strong like him

Or sp!!! Who carries so much grief, and it saddens me that his "why is it not me, but you?" line got reduced to "oh he's jealous he doesn't have a kdj" when it's "he doesn't have ANY companions he doesn't have a SISTER A DISCIPLE A TEACHER"

[catchyhuh]

is there anything more insanely insane than the fact that lupin calls himself a hero repeatedly in an exaggerated jokey way to the point that there's even a fucking song about it that's assumedly sung from his pov and yet whenever someone asks him if he's a good person he goes. mm. well. hm. well no not really. in fact i'd be rather disturbed if you thought i was in all honesty!

[voltives]

finally, the behemoth that is my debut passion (1994) fic is complete, and is now available to be read. this will probably be relevant to approximately 7 people, but hey, it's done.

[cinderoo]

ironhide: anime girl edition

"When are we gonna start bustin' Decepti-chops?"

[iolypse]

no stroke of genius

There's an empty coffee mug on the desk.

The handle is chipped. A brownish stain smears the bottom ridge, brackish liquid pooled where the slight tilt of the wood demands it. His chair is tipped haphazardly against the wall, cushion torn open at the seams. Papers and pins and red strings scatter the floor, pieces of evidence either destroyed or outright missing. The lanterns have been left up with pinched out wicks. The room still smells faintly of ash and lighter fluid, his departure painfully raw. Somehow, this is what breaks him.

Cellbit is gone.

Forever walks through the remains of a genius and does not mourn. There is nothing to mourn, no such thing to reminisce. Traitors do not deserve this kindness, pray as he might that this is all another lie.

It has to be. He shakes his head, righting the chair to its proper placement. There are no prayers to be made. There is no but. This is all Cellbit's sick, twisted, genius design.

This is under control. This has to be under control. There is no other option.

Forever backs against the desk and feels more than sees the shattering of the mug as its leg breaks under his force. It resonates within the empty cavity of his chest, the lingering pitch electric through his fingers, tangy on the tip of his tongue. It tastes of cocoa and bile. His hair raises on the back of his neck.

A splinter digs into his hand. A shard pierces the bottom of his sandle. There is not a thing in the room left unbroken.

[cynameru]

hi what if i told you i'm no longer sane

[abenacomics]

Muscle studies

[marvus-xoloto]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by @dalishthunder

Tagging @choccymilky and @happyabsence and also any other creative that sees this 😊

Thank you for thinking of me! I actually have mostly stopped writing these days, not out of disinterest but because I’m in the middle of moving cross country and it has been incredibly stressful and mind consuming. But I did start working on a novel a while back! I still need to take MSPAR out of my main character, and perhaps shift it into third person 😂 this is the last thing I wrote for it:

[orchideae]

Me over here: Yelan in her 20s? I can't warrant it. 31 is the go-to on this blog for madame.

[bethanydelleman]

Each Jane Austen Hero Writes a “Wentworth Letter”

We all love Wentworth’s famous declaration of love:

"I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach. You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it, eight years and a half ago. Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. I have loved none but you. Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant. You alone have brought me to Bath. For you alone, I think and plan. Have you not seen this? Can you fail to have understood my wishes? I had not waited even these ten days, could I have read your feelings, as I think you must have penetrated mine. I can hardly write. I am every instant hearing something which overpowers me. You sink your voice, but I can distinguish the tones of that voice when they would be lost on others. Too good, too excellent creature! You do us justice, indeed. You do believe that there is true attachment and constancy among men. Believe it to be most fervent, most undeviating, in F. W.

"I must go, uncertain of my fate; but I shall return hither, or follow your party, as soon as possible. A word, a look, will be enough to decide whether I enter your father's house this evening or never.” Persuasion

What if Austen’s other heroes wrote similar declarations of love?

Charles Bingley to Jane:

(“Oh!” cried Miss Bingley, “Charles writes in the most careless way imaginable. He leaves out half his words, and blots the rest.”

“My ideas flow so rapidly that I have not time to express them—by which means my letters sometimes convey no ideas at all to my correspondents.” Ch 10)

Fitzwilliam Darcy to Elizabeth:

Scene: Darcy is back in London after not being able to speak to Elizabeth at the Longbourn party (Ch 54). He begins to write Elizabeth a letter

Miss Bennet,

I cannot be a slave to opportunity; I must speak to you by what means are within my reach. Angry and resentful I might have been after we parted in Kent, but that has long since taken a more proper direction. Upon your arrival at Pemberley, my object has been to show you every civility within my power. I have loved none but you. I went to Longbourn to attempt to penetrate your feelings. Please tell me if you feel as your did last April, a word, a look, will be enough to silence me forever.

I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it. You alone have brought me to Netherfield. For you alone, I deliberate and arrange. Have your bright eyes not perceived this? How can your quick understanding not comprehend my wishes? I can hardly write. You are too good to trifle with me. If you do believe in true attachment and constancy among men, believe it most ardent and undeviating-

(The letter is left unfinished as Lady Catherine is announced…)

 Edward Ferrars to Elinor Dashwood:

Scene: Marianne has just noticed the hair ring that Edward is wearing, he lies and says it is his sister’s hair but it is really Lucy Steele’s (S&S, Ch 18). He writes this letter:

Miss E. D.

I can no longer be silent; I must reveal the truth to you that I have hidden for too long. I love you, more completely and wholly than I myself believed possible. Yet, I cannot offer you a heart that is completely your own. Long before you were known to me, I bound myself to another. I am engaged to Lucy Steele and have been these last four years. I know you could not love me if I betrayed my honour and therefore, I must live in agony, without any hope of future happiness. Weak I have been, inconstant I have been, but you are too good, too excellent a creature. I could not help but love you.

I was young and foolish when I proposed to Lucy and I have learned better since. You have taught me what an amiable woman can truly be, but it is too late. I can hardly write. I am every instant hearing something which overpowers me. Why did I come to your home without any hope of securing you as my own? I cannot think and plan, I can only exist in acute misery. I must go, certain of my terrible fate. When next I enter your mother’s house, I fear it will be sealed forever.

Your friend, E. F.

 Colonel Brandon to Marianne Dashwood:

Scene: Marianne is in bed sick and Elinor has requested that Colonel Brandon retrieve Mrs. Dashwood. This letter is written before the horses are ready. (S&S Ch 43)

Miss M. D.

I write this in haste before I depart. You are too ill to be seen or spoken to; I cannot remain in silence so I shall speak to you by what means are within my reach. I love you with all of my soul. Dare not believe that there is no such thing as a second attachment! That I have loved before does not diminish the strength of my affection for you. My love did not have an early death. I would offer myself to you with a heart all your own, despite the tragedy that almost broke it, many years ago. Is it not more wonderful that a fire, extinguished thoroughly by disappointment, may be reignited? Believe when I say that a first flame, alluring as it may be, is little when compared to a deep-rooted admiration.

You alone have brought me to Cleveland, for you alone I hope and plan. Can you fail to have understood my wishes? I can hardly write. I am almost overpowered when I think of how much wrong has been done to you. You are too good, too excellent a creature! I would do you justice. He was never worthy of you- but I shall not dwell on resentment. If you can still believe in true attachment and constancy among men, believe it most fervent, most undeviating in me.

I will go, uncertain of my fate, but I will return. A word, a look, will be enough to decide if I shall remain in your company or quit your society forever.

Yours eternally, Colonel Brandon

 Mr. Knightley to Emma:

Scene: Mr. Knightley is in London, writing a confession of his feelings to Emma, when he finds out that Frank Churchill is engaged to Jane Fairfax.

Emma,

I could no longer listen to you and Mr. Frank Churchill’s flirtations in silence. I went to London to teach myself to forget you. It is impossible. Tell me I am not too late, that your precious feelings are engaged forever. You are too good, too excellent a creature- perfect in spite of your imperfections! I would not have stayed away these ten days if I thought you indifferent to him. I can hardly write. I cannot imagine Hartfield without you.

He is engaged to Miss Fairfax? Abominable scoundrel! He has deceived us all, but you will hear nothing but truth from me. Shall time heal the wound? Do I have hope of succeeding -

(Mr. Knightley put down his pen and ordered his horse instead, despite the rain)

 Edmund Bertram to Mary Crawford:

Scene: Edmund is visiting London where he sees Mary Crawford several times in large groups. He writes this the next day.

Miss Crawford

You pierce my heart! I can go on no longer in silence. Your friends are wrong. They are completely unaware of the nature of love. Every word they say oppressing me- do not say that happiness is based in fortune. Do not think that mercenary goals are virtuous! If only I could detach you from these mercenary and ambitious friends! They are corrupting you and encouraging your weakness of character. You were better at Mansfield, everything proper and caring as a sister. The habits of wealth and luxury are too strong here in London. Only you would have brought me here. I can hardly write; I am every instant remembering something which makes me grave. You do us no justice! There is true attachment and constancy among men.

You are the only woman in the world whom I could ever think of as a wife. I offer myself to you with a heart completely your own. Tell me that I am not too late; I regret every day that I did not come to the point before you left the Parsonage. Can you fail to have understood my wishes? I have loved none but you.  For you alone, I think and plan. Can you accept the house I mean to fit up for you and the income that will furnish such a second son? I live between hope and agony. I will go to Mansfield, uncertain of my fate.

Edmund Bertram

 Henry Tilney to Catherine:

Henry is never uncertain of Catherine’s affection, so this one is just for fun.

Scene: Henry has just arrived at Fullerton and is listening to Catherine argue with her brother (not James, a different one) about whether men or women love the longest. Basically, the same conversation Wentworth overhears Anne and Harville having. He cannot join in because he lost his voice.

Catherine,

I can no longer listen in silence. I need to be a part of this conversation. If only I had not lost my voice! This is agony! I have so many helpful examples to bring to the discussion. You cannot comprehend how disagreeable it is to be silent. I am every instant hearing something for which I have a rebuttal. Why is no one bringing up Romeo and Juliet? That is a true example of how both sexes can feel passionate love. And Cordelia’s love for her father in King Lear, another excellent example of woman’s constancy in the face of opposition. But you just dismissed the Bard’s entire compendium and all literature in general; it could have really helped your argument. More robust than women? Does he not consider what your mother has endured? You know how very highly I think of all the women in the world, especially those with whom I happen to be in company. Never mind, I shall survive. I am capable of not contributing.

I am slightly worried from your manner of speaking that you are doubtful of my love for you. Too good, too modest a creature! Catherine, you alone have brought me to Fullerton (really, what else could?). I am bound to you by both honour and affection. I would not have waited these two hours but that your brother will not leave us alone. I offer myself to you with a heart all your own. You must be made aware, however, that my father does not approve and I have told him my feelings explicitly. That was the cause of my voice failing. For you alone I ranted and stormed.

I know that your heart is mine, but if you wish to assure me of that fact, it can never be repeated too often. I shall sit quietly now, certain of my fate.

Yours affectionately, Henry