#they kinda screwed me with such little background/interactions

[crqstalite]

the hierophant and justice for the rook ask game!

ask game!

The Hierophant: Is Rook religious? How do they feel about the religious organizations that impact their life the most?

Sabine is very much a skeptic. Having grown up in Rivain and often times travelling about throughout her formative years (nor many guiding forces) there wasn't really any formal religious presence in her life. Meaning, she's not sure if the Maker is actually out there or whether anyone should be celebrating Andraste. Ask her anything about the mythos surrounding them, she probably couldn’t answer unless it was some odd fact that she picked up while learning about a relic her team had unearthed. Up until recent events, she wasn't even totally sure about the Evanuris -- even if they were considered her gods. To say the least, she goes day by day and event by event, and just prays to whatever force comes to mind first when she gets caught in a sticky situation.

When she says “pick a god and pray” she means that wildly literally.

As for organizations, she's mostly neutral on them belief wise. Probably incredibly wary of the Chantry, even if she isn't part of a formal clan, there's still something to be said about how she's gotten treated travelling through the South and occasionally even further North. Perhaps there's something to be said about her growing curiosity into the Elven pantheon, but that's something often saved for Bellara's expertise and brief bouts of project building.

Justice: How does Rook feel about the circumstances that led to them leaving their faction? What does returning feel like?

Sabine thinks it was all ridiculous down to the last request from Isabela to take some time off. Now, she's not exactly lawfully good and likely causes more problems than actually solves them, but there is something to be said about the fact that she does what's right a good deal of the time. Lead by what makes her money and even moreso what'll ease her conscience, she tries not to be a horrible person even at work.

Keeping something horrible and evil out of the hands of the Venatori? Pretty solid plan to carry out. Getting booted from every expedition a few months before Varric found her? Pretty fucking bad. A punishment for doing the right thing has her a bit testy with some of the nobles in Rivain lately, so she keeps her distance unless Isabela calls for her. Bad for business to be called out every time you show up for a meeting. At least now, her expeditions are on her terms.

thanks for asking!!

[applestorms]

DN ask game: how about 18 and 23 (23 I will amend to 'one of your current favourite moments,' in case you are me and hate choosing favourites in any kind of absolute way haha)

CACKLES oh you know me so well =3=" original ask game

18. what do you think about Wammy’s House?

MY GOD. what do i NOT think about wammy's house. i feel like i've already talked a bit on wammy's house in Various Essays, but i suppose to coagulate some of those kinda random thoughts...

it Fucks those kids up. by nature of what wammy's house Is, i don't think it's possible for a single kid to get through it w/o getting at least a little fucked up. that goddamn orphanage is releasing a Storm of incredible messed up little geniuses on the world and the world will never recover. you can't create a fucking organization based around concepts like Live Up To The World's Greatest Detective or Never Ever Use Your Real Name (guess that's probably KIRA motivated, but still) without screwing over the sense of identity of an entire generation. nobody's doin it like them fr.

i really really really like the idea that people toss around about KIRA = god of the new world, therefore -> L = god of the old world, and i think wammy's house maps onto that idea super well as a kind of cult of the old god. something something greco-roman mystery cults, L as a void player homestuck classpect-wise, the Secrets and Idolization inherent to that entire entity. oh yeah it's all comin together rubs my hands eviley.

i saw someone say the LABB murders novel was bad the other day and almost cried because i personally Adore that book, for the additional naomi characterization + beyond moments yes, but also for the extra lore it establishes about wammy's and L more generally. having actual Generations within the house is so fucking fascinating by how you can break it down, especially when you try to fit L into it and maybe have a generation where he was interacting with the other kids during his kinda Rise to Power. i definitely think beyond and L interacted quite extensively at the very least (headcanon basis for that mostly, i just like the idea + it explains why he even got the idea to emulate him so closely), and the existence of A in and of itself is such a fascinating mystery, i love seeing how people mess with the idea of them in different ways.

also everyone go read heirs and spares for fantastic light-at-wammy's house content that almost reads like some of the best earliest parts of the promised neverland and also has some great L and light childhood worsties content. go go

also kira bless time speaks for writing that entire timeline where light and L go live at wammy's and traumatize mello w/ their horrible terrible flirting that is fucking saving me. i am so Desperate for more lawlight interacting with wammy's content i have no idea why that sets my brain off so bad but it Just Does. etc etc L negligent parent King for the win, i need to see near and L have the most horrible terrible psychological battles monologuing so loud it stinks up the entire damn room while mello and light are beating each other with bats in the background. please. lord.

also also roger's characterization in the seals are good series is unironically my accepted characterization for him now whoops. btw i don't think i have many Deep Thoughts on watari, he's kinda just a shitty old man philanthropist to me :/ though i do find him more interesting and Paternalistic with a good L genderbend.........

23. what was your favorite moment and why?

you said current favorite so honestly... ok i'll limit myself to two.

FAVORITE SCENE OF ALL TIME: LIGHT DYING. ez. specifically in the manga. there is legitimately no better scene in the entire series. this fucking panel haunts my dreams it's so goddamn Good

there is nothing i love more in this world than watching light yagami bloody and pathetic crawling on the floor and begging for his life only to die like every other criminal he killed. his fear is so Palpable it literally makes me sick. i've read this final sequence, like ch.105-107 but especially this last bit so many goddamn times istg it's burned into my eyelids LIGHT YAGAMIIIIIIII. also his laugh in the anime is fucking incredible in both dubs 10/10 no notes you killed it fellas

FAVORITE SCENE AT THIS MOMENT: been thinking a Lot about both naomi and matsuda lately and their various notable scenes, oddly. i think i need to reread his entire comedy of errors during yotsuba again alskjfskjd and also check out naomi's death again esp in conjunction with LABB murder stuff?? idk. they're both characters that i feel i haven't talked much about (also kiyomi, thought i've been getting Thoughts on her LMFAO thank you forever @kiyomitakada) so i wanna get my image of them cleared up more in my head. also all of the SPK too, halle especially. damn i guess that's a whole lot of moments actually :P WHATEVER.

anyways ty for the ask <33

[mutant-chain-reaction]

Love Language Fic -- Part 3

Part 3 of the little fanfictions based off of my Love Language Headcanon post for the 2k3 turtles with this part starring Raphael. Like the first and second parts, this is pretty general and focuses on platonic feelings.

Part 1 | Part 2

"You're the new human my brothers have been ravin' about?" were the first words Raphael said to you when he finally showed up at your apartment window with Donnie and Mikey one evening.

"I suppose so," you said amicably, "unless these two routinely talk about other humans."

Mikey pretended to ponder on that. "Well, there's April and Casey, and the Silver Sentry and I are kinda tight…"

You chuckled while Raphael rolled his eyes, and the pair of you appropriately introduced yourselves. Your dog danced around the new turtle's feet until Raphael picked him up, and you said, "And that's Moose," as your little mutt desperately tried to stretch his neck and tongue enough to lick Raphael's chin.

"Seems like a great guard dog," Raphael said dryly.

"Little dogs are the best alarm system," you said.

"I think Moose just understands how awesome we are," Mikey said, reaching over to scratch the top of Moose's head. "Well, me and Donnie, at least. Getting two out of three right aren't bad odds--"

Raphael's free hand smacked the back of Mikey's head. Since Donnie didn't seem concerned at his brothers' bickering, you decided you wouldn't be either. The three stayed for about an hour before taking off but, since then, you usually had a brother or two hanging out in your apartment with you whenever they had a little free time, especially after you eventually met the fourth brother.

It wasn't a bad thing, and for the most part, they were respectful of your time. You honestly believed that they had so little interaction with friendly humans from the outside world that you were still a novelty to them. Being a freelancer, you spent most of your time working from home, so it was nice for you to have someone else to talk to on a semi-regular basis as well.

And talk they did.

Mikey, bless his little heart, visited the most. Your conversations barely let up when he was around, and it seemed that he wasn't thrilled with silence. After you met Leo and he visited on his own, talks between the pair of you were calm discussions and debates, with you imagining that he enjoyed having someone outside of his family to talk to, to let down his "big brother" role once in a while.

Alone with Donnie, you realized just how much he could talk, and you didn't mind being an active listener whenever he was chatting away. You guessed he was used to being in the background when he was with his brothers, always content but it was probably difficult to compete with Mikey. And if Mikey and Raph were bickering, then forget it.

When it was just him alone, though, Raphael seemed to be the quietest.

It was never a bad quiet, but it had been awkward on your part in the beginning. Raphael was always quick with the sarcasm when he was around his brothers, but when it was just the two of you, you struggled for conversation topics.

You hoped that Raphael didn't mind, but he did visit the least. There was no hard feelings on your end - perhaps a little disappointment - as you figured you just didn't click with Raphael as you had with his brothers.

However, as you stalled on your work one evening, letting your gaze roam around your living room, you realized you had a bit of a breakthrough when Raphael showed up the one evening when you were sitting on the floor puzzling over the instruction booklet for a standing punching bag.

"When did you get that?" he had asked in lieu of a greeting.

"This afternoon," you said, your frown alternating between the picture in the booklet and the pile of screws by your left foot. "One of my neighbors decided he didn't want it so I took it."

Raphael inspected the box that was by your front door. "Thought you said your neighbors were all old folks."

"They are," you said. "Think Mr. McCarty does physical therapy and was a little too enthusiastic when his doctor started suggesting some at-home exercises. He got the punching bag, but obviously never opened it to set it up. I caught his grandson getting ready to toss it, so…" You shrugged, your sentence trailing off.

"What made you want a punching bag?" was Raphael's next question.

You looked up at him and admitted, "I like all the stories you guys tell me about your ninjutsu practices. Besides, I'm sitting on my ass all day for my work, so maybe I'll be a little motivated to move a bit more with this. Why do these screws not look like the picture in the book?"

You had half a mind to ask Raphael if Donatello was available, but Raphael wordlessly plucked the instruction booklet out of your hands. He started sorting a few of the screws and nuts and bolts into smaller piles, gently shooing Moose away when your dog got a little too close to the materials, and asked, "Where are you plannin' on putting this?"

"I figured in the corner by the counter right there--"

"No." He shook his head. "Ya need more room. Don't want the bag swinging and crashing into the wall."

You raised an eyebrow as he handed you the instruction booklet back and began moving your coffee table and your larger standing plants. Moose danced around him as furniture was shifted, and you found yourself following Raphael's instructions in rearranging your living room. When Raphael was satisfied with the layout, he then took a seat on the floor next to the pieces of the frame for the punching bag and started asking about screwdrivers.

Together, the pair of you built the standing punching bag.

Despite there not being much talking between the two of you, it was an amicable quiet. Raphael seemed content to just be there, relaxing with a self-imposed project, and you were pleased that he was comfortable. It didn't take too long for the punching bag to be built, with Raphael testing the bag himself and showing you a couple of basic punches to get a good rhythm going.

The punching bag itself became a staple whenever Raphael came over on his own. It was a common ground between the pair of you, something that was part of the background during Raphael's visits. If you two weren't talking about his brothers or your work, Raphael and you were by the punching bag learning from one another.

"Hey."

The voice was deep and low, and you knew it was Raphael climbing in through the window before you turned your gaze away from the punching bag. It was as if your thoughts had summoned him.

Apparently, he hadn't noticed that you were disassociating and instead gestured to your desk and notebook as he asked, "Am I interruptin'?"

"No," you said, remembering that you had been working. "Let me finish up these notes and I'll be right with you."

The turtle nodded, gave the punching bag a small tap, and flopped down on the couch. Moose emerged from his bed beside your desk to leap up and join him. Raph chuckled at the enthusiastic greeting but otherwise stayed quiet.

You glanced over at him, lounging completely carefree, his head tilted back, his eyes closed, with the only part of him moving being his hand stroking Moose's back. While it took a little while to learn, you realized that Raphael was the only turtle who didn't need to talk when he was with you.

He was comfortable just existing with you, and that made everything feel alright.

[kevin-day-is-bi]

Embarking on watching all the Batman movies pt 9: The Batman (2022):

This move is a bit complicated, in terms of accuracy. As a Batman movie, I really enjoyed it. There’s a very clear separation between Bruce and Batman, to the point where even Alfred comments “is Bruce Wayne actually going to be making an appearance?” It’s a perfect Batman Year Two, complete with the baggy t-shirt, smeared eyeliner, and awkward not-quite-quippy one liners (“you got a lot of cats” said to Catwoman). We see him purposefully interact with kids a lot, especially towards the end, and we have a lot of the classic internal dialogue which is treated exactly as cringy as it is (“the city’s scarred. Angry. Like me.”).

I also think they added just enough hints of not-quite-entirely-created or fleshed out aspects of Batman. Having the Iceberg Lounge was a nice touch, as was having the memory of Thomas Wayne healing Falcone. There were a couple major changes, and most of them worked fairly well. Having Martha be an Arkham was a weird choice, but paired with making Selina be Falcone’s daughter, it added nicely to helping Gotham feel insular.

Catwoman is fantastic, and I greatly enjoyed having her be so involved with the Falcones. I also quite liked Bella Reál’s storyline. Having a background plot of politics is really nice and it helped flesh out Gotham as a city.

There were a few changes that didn’t fit quite so well. Making Penguin be a normal mobster and part of the Falcones made me wonder how he would advance as the Penguin, and it made him a little less weird and out there.

Similar to that, I do have a fair amount of issues with their treatment of Riddler. Firstly, while making him be a type of villain that is feared in modern times (a white fuckboi Reddit mod), it once again brings up the question “why Gotham?”. It doesn’t make Gotham feel particularly singular, or especially messed up. Furthermore, by turning the character himself into a less (for lack of a better word) bright character, by making him not have the Riddler suit and have his outfit be covering and dark, it really makes him feel like he’s not the Riddler. While I could see the changes being made, with the amount of care that gets put into the Batman character and the Falcone family, it feels very out of place. While it seems like a nitpick, making his name be Edward Nashton instead of Ed Nygma is a great example of this. Ed Nygma is designed to be glaringly obvious, kinda cringy, and very campy. Plus, it fits with a lot of the Rogues (like Julian Day being Calender Man). Additionally, giving him reasonable motive (being screwed over by the crime families) sort of ruins the point of him. You have reasonable villains that exist for moral quandaries (Poison Ivy, Two-Face, Mr. Freeze, Babydoll, etc), but Riddler exists fairly in the black and white. He’s not as cut-and-dry evil as the Joker, but he mainly exists to cause chaos, not to raise good points.

Overall, it’s a very good BYT and a suitably fleshed out Falcone, and in terms of the internal machinations of Gotham it’s fairly comic accurate. Plus, a lot of the shots looked very much like comic panels, which is something I greatly enjoy. I deeply hate the Joker hints at the end, largely because I worry that it will fall into the same pitfalls that The Dark Knight did and will either not adjust him to fit the world very well or over-adjust.

7.5/10

[liliallowed]

As a fellow Dust Sans lover, I have to ask, what is your favorite thing about Dusttale? It can be from both canon and fanon. Also, lowkey wondering, what's the most recommended Dusttale AU you're making? Like if you had to suggest one to look at first, what would it be in your opinion?

I like canon dusttale more than fanon!

as in... phantom papyrus being a manifestation of sans's grief and not an actual ghost.

as in us the reader keeping the story going. us the player simply data mining a game or Speedruning genocide. that results in a time loop.

it's not that we're evil. we're just curious. it's not that HE'S evil. he's just putting his foot down and taking away that choice the human had over his fate.

greater good isn't what dust was after despite what most people think. he didn't want a happy ending. he didn't want ANY ending involving a being that could reset.

I think what he did is such a powerful move. he's saying screw you in the most sans way possible. if killing everyone has always been a game to us? he's in a lot of ways... a reminder of canon chara to me.

am executioner preventing from a megalomaniac high and drunk on it's power from avoiding the consequences.

what I love most about this au is that it WILL not allow you to do a pacifist ending anymore. you're LOCKED IN. you made your choice now deal with it.

-as for the first au of mine? I recommend checking out the closure ask box! there may not be many asks but I work hard over quality over quantity! it's the one with seraphim dust!

-my second favorite au is dustgrave but it's comic on pause for now. it's both a deltarune version of dusttale... and a dusttale version of deltarune with heavy themes of bad faith and false gods, cult-ish vibes, and has been on the works for quite a while!

-bad influence is FLUFF land. in a post dusttale world sans is wasting away until he finds something interesting. a little deer caught in headlights that seems to retain memories not from resets but directly from the other worlds the anomaly is interacting with. he takes her in to use her as a tool but then... gets attached.(if you like hurt/comfortable or just plain adorableness with a grim background I highly recommend this one!)

also I'm relatively new here so not many of my aus have that much content put into them and I'm kinda freestyling everything with no specific planning. sometimes Im in the mood for more edge, sometimes I draw sans tucking in Noelle in bed and reading her a bed time story because I'm feeling sweet!

so I apologize for the lack of content or consistency. I'll be happy to answer your questions about any au tho!

[sourrind]

Your Star Trek AU idea sounds great! I love the backgrounds you've assigned to everyone!

I have a few different ideas for a Star Trek AU myself (like this), but I would probably never get around to writing them.

I have been thinking about Ava and Shannon possibly being Trills / or with a symbiont too! Although in what I've been thinking about so far, Ava is just human who got a symbiont jammed into her in an emergency situation a la Adira Tal in ST:Disco. Shannon is definitely a Trill though.

I love the thought of Bea having a Vulcan connection. I always wanted Bea to be human in a Star Trek AU but she def has Vulcan-like traits. I kinda like the idea of her being a human raised by Vulcans, with her struggling to suppress her human emotions in a Vulcan society, like Michael from ST:Disco. (And now this is making me think of Lilith as possibly Romulan, with all the emotions she always expresses outwardly as opposed to Bea's Vulcan trait of suppressing her emotions.)

And can I please steal that USS Andalusia name? I have been trying to think of a name for their ship.

Having the OCS be a part of Section 31 is a great idea! And the DS9 influence with the whole Cardassian and Bajoran conflict is a great idea for a show with religious influences.

First off, I love that there are other people that wanna mash Warrior Nun and Star Trek together. Big mood.

I haven't seen STD, but I also was toying with whether Ava should've been a Trill or just a human that was there when Shannon died. It's nice to know that there's another case in canon I can look into for something like that.

And Bea is totally Vulcan-coded, whether she's part Vulcan or raised Vulcan. Not only is there that suppression of base human emotion vs her Vulcan upbringing, but I also was toying with the idea of Bea being a master of all trades kind of person as an attempt to make up for the fact that she was probably seen as a "lesser than" during her upbringing. This also leads to a surprising knowledge of religion and theology that her human side possessed, but she found lacking in her Vulcan family. (This would also lead to some interesting discussions with Vincent, who I thought could be a Bajoran counselor on the ship as well.)

Lilith as a Romulan? It basically writes itself.

And please, take as much as you want from all of this stuff I'm spewing! I'd be ecstatic to see any of this anywhere!

Aaaaannnnnnddd I am now just reading all the stuff you have written for your AU and-my gosh-I love it all! I didn't even consider the Borg when I was doing this, but Lilith getting partially assimilated and then rescued is so perfect (especially with it being because of her duty and saving Ava). And I love how you incorporated Diego, because what's Star Trek without some precocious scamp running around?

I also love that we both had no idea what to do with Camilla. Being the sweet, little cinnamon roll, maybe we just give her the O'Brien treatment and just put the screws to her every other chapter.

And my god, the interactions you described with the mirrorverse Avas and Beas, that is pure gold!

P.S. I definitely will watch VOY. I attempted to start it recently, but jut wasn't in the head space for it. Definitely will give it another go soon!

P.P.S. This was so fun to talk about. Feel free to just straight up message me whenever you wanna chat!

[aeonmother]

0: Height - 5'9" to 10"

1: Age - 17,  close to 18

2: Shoe size - 14 extra wide

3: Do you smoke? - no

4: Do you drink? - no

5: Do you take drugs? - no

6: Age you get mistaken for - sometimes 18

7: Have tattoos? - Unfortunately not

8: Want any tattoos? - YES YES YES OMG PLEASE, I have no idea what I want the tattoos to be but I want them EVERYWHERE. Eventually I want a full back, at least one arm sleeve, a spine tattoo, over the heart, a shoulder, legs, etc. Have no idea what to get yet and i don't trust my own opinion yet

9: Got any piercings? - Unfortunately no

10: Want any piercings? - Definitely ear piercings, don't know about anything else

11: Best friend? - Well i have like 20 besties that I love with all my heart but I'd say my best bestie is @clairvoylance

12: Relationship status - single forever and too scared to make any moves 🥲 

13: Biggest turn ons - no idea, i know what I like but I can't answer this question

14: Biggest turn offs - painful things, disgusting things, brainrot things, etc

15: Favorite movie - I'm split between Pacific rim and real steel... And Mary Poppins... And how to train your dragon (all three of them)...

16: I’ll love you if… - we exist together. I am rather very loving and in fact will love you even if you hate me, how fun 

17: Someone you miss - I miss you when we're apart, even if we just saw each other and it is MADDENING. Legit, I can have just saw you and now i want to go back and see you again

18: Most traumatic experience - I have a habit of blocking out memories so I've probably forgotten but of the things I remember it's either that my brother tried to commit suicide or that my mother informed me that she had three miscarriages after I was born

19: A fact about your personality - If you know me you'd definitely say I'm a horny bastard but I'm fairly certain this is a massive coping mechanism/bit that I fell into way too hard and have no idea how to stop... Which is great because it's affected how my friends see me permanently I'm so happy with this

20: What I hate most about myself - that I never put in the effort to do what was important 

21: What I love most about myself - that i have FINALLY started putting in effort to do things I want to do and supporting myself 

22: What I want to be when I get older - I'm leaning into a nursing/psychologist route in medicine but that could change in the next week 

23: My relationship with my sibling(s) - No biological but I got to experience having siblings anyway and I'd say I have a good relationship with them, at least my sister... My brother is very different and complicated

24: My relationship with my parent(s) - mostly positive, kinda odd because they consider me mature when I don't but whatever

25: My idea of a perfect date - just existing in a way and place that we are both comfortable with and being together

26: My biggest pet peeves - eating sounds that are particularly chewy, especially with no music or background noise, being a dick when someone is being a good host, completely ignoring the people around you for no good reason

27: A description of the girl/boy I like - i can't choose which person to describe... Screw it I'm gonna do the main one. Short, dark hair, a smile that could melt a glacier and a laugh that could do the same, and then they'd apologize for it because they're nice like that. Kinda like if rengoku was 5'2 and socially anxious but just as much a ray of sunshine

28: A description of the person I dislike the most - lol, tall af, dirty blonde hair, a glorious beard, and thick af arms... This may or may be an ex best friend who i SO would have gotten with if he wasn't a dick... And if he was gay 

29: A reason I’ve lied to a friend - to protect feelings but also to protect a different friend who at the time was a higher priority

30: What I hate the most about work/school - just how little of it actually matters and how I'd rather just be interacting with my people

31: What my last text message says - "I've found I prefer being shaved" kinda self explanatory lol i hadn't shaved in a bit and then I did and then I LOVED IT

32: What words upset me the most - simple, selfish, uncaring, one-track, inconsiderate

33: What words make me feel the best about myself - caring, thoughtful, inclusive, loving, strong, open

34: What I find attractive in women - lmao take your pick, my taste in women is WOMEN like I have a mental list of people I like and the girls on it are all very different

35: What I find attractive in men - muscles/apparent strength are up there, it seems that i like darker hair (like a certain @greydoesstuff747 lol) but otherwise it's the same as women, extremely variable 

36: Where I would like to live - probably most walkable cities in Europe, somewhere in Italy would work perfectly

37: One of my insecurities - that I'm a horrendous size and i don't deserve the love i want to have

38: My childhood career choice - I've always thought about being a doctor

39: My favorite ice cream flavor - Cookies and cream is always a good choice

40: Who I wish I could be - uhhhh either anything but me or understand so much about myself that i truly become MYSELF. Like, maybe man by ajr core dude

41: Where I want to be right now - With a friend

42: The last thing I ate -  burgers, eggs, apples, and cheese lol

43: Sexiest person that comes to my mind immediately - (okay look I cant just say remington, It's true but it's boring to say it twice) henry cavil or pedro pascal... Wait I can say f1nn5ter... f1nn5ter

44: A random fact about anything - I've rewritten this one section about 6 times now and it's taken me three days to type this whole thing out

@clairvoylance @cat-mermaid @pixel-nyx @zowiesykes no pressure of course <3

nosy anons let's go

0: Height

1: Age

2: Shoe size

3: Do you smoke?

4: Do you drink?

5: Do you take drugs?

6: Age you get mistaken for

7: Have tattoos?

8: Want any tattoos?

9: Got any piercings?

10: Want any piercings?

11: Best friend?

12: Relationship status

13: Biggest turn ons

14: Biggest turn offs

15: Favorite movie

16: I’ll love you if…

17: Someone you miss

18: Most traumatic experience

19: A fact about your personality

20: What I hate most about myself

21: What I love most about myself

22: What I want to be when I get older

23: My relationship with my sibling(s)

24: My relationship with my parent(s)

25: My idea of a perfect date

26: My biggest pet peeves

27: A description of the girl/boy I like

28: A description of the person I dislike the most

29: A reason I’ve lied to a friend

30: What I hate the most about work/school

31: What my last text message says

32: What words upset me the most

33: What words make me feel the best about myself

34: What I find attractive in women

35: What I find attractive in men

36: Where I would like to live

37: One of my insecurities

38: My childhood career choice

39: My favorite ice cream flavor

40: Who I wish I could be

41: Where I want to be right now

42: The last thing I ate

43: Sexiest person that comes to my mind immediately

44: A random fact about anything

[feanorianethicsdepartment]

Alright, I read your recent post and need to know - what is your interpretation of Maglor’s relationship with the twins?

askjdhslkjag my biggest self-inflicted problem in this fandom is that my take on maglor, elrond, and elros' relationship is so intensely detailed and specific i am forever tormented by none of the fic i read ever quite getting it right (from my perspective; i’ve read plenty of fic that presents a good interpretation on their own terms, it’s just never mine.) it’s simultaneously way darker than the fluffy kidnap dads stuff and nowhere near as black-and-white awful as the anti-fëanorian crowd likes to paint it, it’s messy and complicated and surrounded by darkness, and yet there’s also a sincere connection within it which mostly serves to make all those complications worse. angry teenage elrond is angry for a great many reasons, and the circumstances around him being raised by kinslayers account for at least half of them. there’s lots of complexity here, and i don’t see it in fic nearly as often as i’d like

(warning: the post... feathers? i already have an internet friend called faeiri this could be awkward - anyway, the post she’s talking about includes the line ‘everyone is wrong about kidnap dads except me.’ this post follows on from that in being as much a commentary about why various popular interpretations of both how the kidnapdoption went and the way people subsequently characterise the twins just don’t work for me as it is a setting out of my own ideas. i’m not really interested in getting into discourse here, i’m just trying to get my thoughts down. i’ve read fic with these interpretations before that i’ve liked, even, don’t take this as a Condemnation, aight? also this turned out long as hell, so i’m putting it under a cut)

i can never buy entirely fluffy depictions of kidnap dads

which isn’t to say i don’t read them! sometimes all i want is something sweet, for these kids to get to be happy for once. it’s not like i think their time with the fëanorians was completely devoid of laughter

it’s just. the pet names, the special days out, the home-cooked meals, it can get so treacly it stops feeling like the characters they are in the situation they’re in and turns into Generic Found Family #272

it soaks out all the complexity - which is the thing i am here for - and acts like oh, these kids were never in any danger, they were perfectly happy being abducted by the people who murdered everyone they knew, there’s nothing possibly questionable about this relationship at all

and... yeah. that’s not the characters i know. that’s not the context i know they belong to

i just can’t forget the circumstances that led them to meet

rivers of blood, the air filled with screams, a town ablaze, a woman choosing to die. every interaction the three of them have is going to proceed from that nightmare

(sidenote: i tend to hold it was maglor that raised the twins, with maedhros looming ominously in the background not really getting involved. it’s mostly personal preference, i’ve been in and out of the fandom since before this kidnap dads thing blew up and when i joined that was a perfectly standard reading)

(also the cave thing was a dumb idea, old man, if only because it implies beleriand had streams safe enough for children to play in at that point. the way it separates the twins from the third kinslaying is also something i don’t particularly vibe with)

probably my least favourite angle i’ve seen on the situation (edged out only by ‘maglor was actively abusive towards the twins’ which no no no no no no no no NO) is the idea that maglor (and/or maedhros, append as necessary) took the twins specifically to raise them

like, i get where it’s coming from, but it makes maglor come off as really creepy

(i have read fics where it is indeed played off as really creepy, but that’s not a maglor i have any interest in reading about)

(’mags 100% bad’ is just as facile a take to me as ‘mags 100% good’)

even if you’re saying maglor took them in because they had no one left to take care of them - i highly doubt they were the only children the fëanorians orphaned at sirion. idk, it always makes maglor seem much less sympathetic than i think it’s meant to

i prefer to think of it as more... organic? something that evolved, not something that was preordained. them growing closer gradually, the twins finding an adult who might maybe be on their side, maglor becoming invested in them almost by accident

and then the twins are so comfortable with the second scariest monster in amon ereb they frequently sass him off and maglor’s gotten so used to not hurting them he’s not even thinking about it any more. no one’s quite sure how it happened, but they’ve made a Connection

‘wait aren’t they a murderous warlord of questionable mental stability and a pair of terrified small children who’ve lost everyone they ever knew? isn’t that kinda fucked up?’ yup! that’s the point! complexity!

another idea i don’t like is the idea that maglor was an objectively better parent to the twins than eärendil or elwing

other people have talked about this already, i won’t rehash the whole thing. i will say that while i don’t think elwing was a perfect parent - someone so young, in such a horrible situation, i wouldn’t blame her for screwing up - i do think she (and eärendil) did the best by them they possibly could

this is one of the few things they have in common with maglor

something i come across now and again is the idea that sure, elwing and eärendil weren’t abusive or horrible or anything, but they were a couple of basically-teenagers with so many other responsibilities, there was only so much they could do. maglor, on the other hand, is an experienced adult who could take much better care of the twins

and...

first off, it’s not like mags doesn’t have a job. he’s a warlord, he has a fortress to help run, military shit to handle, lots of other stuff that needs to get done to stop everyone from starving or getting eaten by orcs. i feel like sirion had enough of a government there was plenty of opportunity for elwing to take days off and play with her kids, but in the fëanorian camp nobody really has the time to chase after a couple of toddlers, least of all one of the last points on the command network. they just don’t have the people any more

(seriously, the twins getting a formal education with tutors and classes and shit is a weirdly specific pet peeve of mine. this is a band of renegades, not a royal household; if there’s anyone left with those kinds of skills they almost certainly have more important things to do)

more than that, though - well, a quick glance through my late stage fëanorians tag should tell you a lot about what i think maglor’s mental state is like at this point. he is so accustomed to violence death means nothing to him, he’s lost most of his capacity for genuinely positive emotion to an endless century of defeat and despair, he hates everything in the universe, especially himself, he’s only able to keep functioning through a truly astounding amount of denial, and he covers it all up with a layer of snark and feigned apathy, which he defends aggressively because he’s subconsciously realised that if it breaks he’ll have absolutely nothing left

(maedhros, for the record, is... i’d say more stable, but at a lower point. maglor may interact with the world mostly through cold stares and mocking laughter, but at least his mind is firmly rooted in the present)

(on the other hand, at least maedhros lets himself be aware of what they are and where their road will lead)

which... this doesn’t mean maglor doesn’t try to be kind to the twins, or rein in his worst impulses around them

there’s just so little of him left but the weapon

he stalks through the halls like a portent of death and gets into hours-long screaming matches with maedhros and has definitely killed people in front of the twins

not even as, like, a deliberate attempt to scare them, but because when you solve most of your problems by stabbing them it’s pretty much a given that people who spend a lot of time around you are going to see you do it at least once

and sometimes, he curls up in an empty hallway, and weeps

... suffice it to say i don’t think elwing’s the more preoccupied, or the less mentally ill, parent here

just. in general, the fëanorians aren’t cackling boogeymen, but they’re not particularly nice either

no one has the energy left for that. not these isolated and weary soldiers at the end of a long losing war and the beginning of the end of the world. they don’t really bother to guard the kids against them escaping. where else are they going to go?

the sheer despair that must have been in the fëanorian camp after sirion, the knowledge that the cause cannot be fulfilled, that they are utterly forsaken, that they’re really just waiting to die -

it can’t have been a happy place to grow up in, under the shadow of loss and grief and deeds unrepentable, and the slow march of inevitable defeat

they would have had a better childhood if they stayed in sirion, raised by people who knew how to hope

but that isn’t the childhood they had. and despite everything i’ve said, i don’t think that childhood was an entirely awful one

yeah, see, this is where the other side of my self-inflicted fandom catch-22 comes in. just as much of the pro-kidnap dads stuff comes off as overly saccharine and simplified to me, i find much of the anti-kidnap dads stuff equally simplistic in the opposite direction

the idea that maglor and the fëanorians never meant anything to elros and elrond, that they had no effect on the people they became at all, that it was just a horrible thing that happened when they were children, easily thrown in the rear-view mirror...

that’s even more impossible to me than the idea that life with the fëanorians was 100% fluffy and nice

like, i’ve seen the take that elros and elrond hated the fëanorians from start to finish. they were perfect little sindarin princes, loyal to their people and the memory of doriath, spurning every scrap of kindness offered to them and knowing just what to say to twist the knife into the kinslayers’ wounds

... dude. they were six. hell, given their peredhelness, mentally they could easily have been younger

what six year old has a firm grasp of their ethnic identity? what six year old is fully aware of their place in history? what six year old would understand the politics that led to their situation?

don’t get me wrong, i can see hatred in there. but something else that doesn’t get acknowledged alongside it often enough is the fear

some of the stuff i’ve read feels like it gives the kids too much power in the situation. they’re perfectly happy to talk back to and belittle the people who burned down their hometown and killed everyone they ever knew, like miniature adults who don’t feel threatened at all

and, like, six. i can see them going for insults as a defensive measure, but it is defensive. it’s covering up fear, not coming from secure disdain

(and a lot of those insults sound, again, like things an adult who’s already familiar with the fëanorians would say, not a scared child who’s lost almost everything. why would a six year old raised by sindar and gondolindrim know what the noldolantë is, let alone what it means to maglor?)

(... i’m just ranting about this one fic that’s been ruffling my feathers for five years straight now, aren’t i)

i mean, i write elrond as the world’s angriest teenager, who snipes at maglor pretty much constantly, but the thing about angry teenage elrond is that he’s angry teenage elrond

he’s spent long enough with the fëanorians he has a pretty secure position within the camp, and he knows that maglor won’t hurt him from a decade and change of maglor not, in fact, hurting him

but as a small and terrified child abducted by the monsters his mother had nightmares about? he fluctuated wildly between ‘randomly guessing at things to say that wouldn’t get him killed’ ‘screaming at maglor to go away in words rarely more complicated than that’ 'desperately trying not to do or say anything in the hopes of not being noticed’ and ‘hiding’

(and i don’t think the twins were never in any danger from the fëanorians, either. quite besides the point that before they started orbiting maglor nobody was really sure what to do with them... well, they wouldn’t be the first children of thingol’s line the minions took revenge on)

(fortunately for them, maglor did, in fact, take them under his wing. by this point even their own followers are shit scared of the last two sons of fëanor, nobody’s going to mess with their stuff and risk getting mauled. tactically, it was a pretty good decision for a couple of toddlers)

more to the point, i feel like a child that young, in a situation that horrible, wouldn’t reject any kindness they were offered, any soothing touch in a universe of terror

in a world full of big scary monsters, the best way to survive is to get the biggest scariest monster possible to protect you. that’s how elros rationalises it when they’re, like, eight, mentally, but at the time they were just latching on to the only person around them who seemed to care about them

that’s how it started, on their end. two very young very scared children lost in a neverending nightmare clinging tightly to the lone outstretched pair of hands

as for maglor...

i’ve called mags evil before, but i see that as more of a... technical term? he is evil because he did the murder, he remains evil because he won’t stop doing the murder. hot take: murder bad

but that doesn’t make him, like, a moustache-twirling saturday morning cartoon villain. he is deeply unhappy with the position he’s in and the person he’s become, and he’s always trying not to take that final step over the edge

it’s not that i can’t see a maglor who is abusive or manipulative or who sees the twins more as objects than people. it’s just that that characterisation is one i am profoundly uninterested in. i do occasionally read fic with it, but it never enters my own headcanons

horrible people can do good things!! kinslayers can do good things!! the fallen are capable of humanity!! people can do both good and evil things at the same time, because people are complicated!! maglor is not psychologically incapable of actually taking pity on these kids!!!!

it’s... again, complexity. the fëanorians straddle the line between black and white, which is a lot less sharp in the legendarium than it’s sometimes characterised as. it’s what draws me to their characters so much, why i have so many stupid headcanons about them. pretending they fall firmly on either side of the line is my real fandom pet peeve

and, like, this moment? this sincere connection between a bloodstained warlord and two children who will grow up to be great and kind in equal measure? i may not entirely like the direction the fandom’s taken it recently, but that beat, that relationship, it still gets me

so no, i don’t think elrond and elros’ years with the fëanorians were an endless cavalcade of abuse and misery. i think there was love there, despite the darkness all around them

an old, tired monster, and the two tiny children it protects

maglor never hurts the twins, not ever, not once. his claws are sharp and his fangs are keen, if he so much as swatted them he’d rip them in half. instead he folds down the razor edges of his being, interacting with them ever so carefully. he has nightmares of suddenly tearing into their skin

seriously, the power differential between them is so great, maglor so much as raising his voice would break any trust they have in this horribly dangerous creature. fics where he does corporal punishment always get the side-eye from me

the mood of their relationship is... i find it hard to put into words. melancholy, maybe, like a sunny afternoon a few days before the end of the world. three people who’ve lost so much finding what respite they can in each other as the world slowly crumbles around them

there are times when it feels like the three of them exist in a world of their own, marked out by the edges of the firelight. maglor telling stories of the stars, elros giving relaxed irreverent commentary, elrond getting a few moments to just be, all their troubles kept at bay

they are the last two lights in a world sunk into darkness, the last two living beings he does not on some level hate. he will tear his own heart out before he sees them in pain

he teaches them to ride, he teaches them to read, he gives them everything he still has left. the twins should never have been in this situation, maglor probably isn’t entirely fit to take care of them, but it is what it is, and they take what love they can

(maglor depends on the twins emotionally a bit more than any adult should rely on any child. he’s still very much the caretaker in their relationship, but that relationship is the only one he has left that’s not stained by a century of rage and grief. he’s obsessed with them, maedhros tells him frequently. maglor’s standard response to this is to try to gouge maedhros’ eyes out)

(that particular darker side to their relationship, where maglor’s attachment to the twins turns into a desperate possessiveness - that’s not something i think i’ve ever seen in fic. which is a shame, it feels much closer to my own characterisation than the standard ways this relationship gets maleficised. darker, in a different way than usual. horribly compelling in its plausibility)

however you want to read it, i don’t think you can deny this is a relationship that defines elrond and elros’ childhood. they were raised in the woods by a pack of kinslayers, the text is quite clear on this

but i’ve seen a lot of talk about how elros and elrond are only sirion’s children. they are completely 100% sindarin, they love and forgive eärendil and elwing thoroughly and without question, they identify with doriath over - even gondolin, let alone tirion. the fëanorians - the people who raised them - had zero effect on the people they grew into and the selves they created

and that, more than anything else, i find utterly unbelievable

look, i get what this is a reaction to. a lot of the kidnap dads stuff paints the fëanorians as elrond and elros’ ‘real’ family, and i’ve already talked about what i think of the idea that maglor-and-possibly-also-maedhros were better parents than eärendil and elwing. i think it’s reductive and overly optimistic and just a little too neat

but to say instead that elrond and elros held no great love in their hearts for maglor, no lingering affinity with the fëanorians, no influence on their identity from the people they grew up around, none at all? that after it happened they just left it behind and resumed being the same people they were in sirion?

that strikes me as just as much an oversimplification. it sands down all the potential rough edges of their identity, all that inconvenient complexity that stops them from fitting into any well-defined box, and replaces it with a nice safe simple self-conception i find just as flat and boring as declaring them 100% fëanorian

we can quibble over who they call ‘father’ (i personally find that whole debate kinda petty) but denying that it was actually maglor who was the closest thing they knew to a parent for most of their childhoods, and that that would, in fact, affect the way they thought of themselves and their family, elides so many interesting possibilities out of existence

(i’m not even going to get into the most braindead take i have ever heard on the subject, namely that because their time with the fëanorians was such a small fraction of elrond’s total lifespan it was like being kidnapped for two weeks as a toddler and had no greater significance than that. do you not understand what childhood is????)

like, i tend to think of elrond as a child as being very loudly not-a-fëanorian. elros is more willing to go with the flow - hey, if the creepy kinslayer wants kids, elros is happy to play into that in order to not be murdered - but elrond is very firm that he’s not happy to be here and he doesn’t belong with them

(this is after they get over their initial terror, of course, when they’ve realised they won’t be fed to the orcs for the tiniest slight. even so, elrond only really gets shirty about it around people he’s comfortable with, whose reactions he can reasonably guess at. naturally, the first person he does it to is maglor)

elros calls maglor their father exactly once, when they’re... maybe early preteens? this is because elrond hears him do it and immediately loses his shit. they have a dad, elrond says, in tears, and a mum, and any day now their real parents are going to come to pick them up and take them home

... right?

it gets harder to believe as the years roll on, as their memories of sirion fade, as they find their own places within the host, as maglor watches over them as they grow. elrond still mentally sets himself apart from the fëanorians, but it’s more of an effort every year. life in the fëanorian camp is the only one he’s ever really known. he can barely remember his mother’s voice

then the war of wrath starts, and the fëanorian host drifts closer to the army of valinor, and the twins come into contact with non-fëanorians for the first time in forever, and it becomes clear just how obviously fëanorian elrond is. he always insisted he wasn’t like the kinslayers at all, but he dresses like them, talks like them, fights like them

the myth cycles the edain tell are almost completely unfamiliar to him, he barely remembers the shape of the songs of lost doriath. even these sarcastic commentary and subversive reinterpretations he made of maglor’s stories - those were still maglor’s stories! he’s been trying to guess at the person he was meant to be, but it’s growing nightmarishly blatant how little elrond ever knew about him

instead, the people he was born to are as alien to him as the orcs of morgoth. he is a fëanorian, through and through

... yeah, elrond (and/or elros) having an absolutely massive identity crisis upon being reintroduced to his quote-unquote ‘true kin’ is another angle i’d love to see in fic that i don’t think i’ve ever come across. all those potential grey areas around who they are and who they’re supposed to be sound utterly fascinating, and i think it’s the complexity i hate to see elided over the most

i really, really doubt they could effortlessly slot back into being eärendil and elwing’s children. not when they’ve been surrounded by, lived alongside, been raised by the people who were supposed to enemies for most of their lives

they just don’t fit into that box any more. they can’t

speaking of eärendil and elwing, while i do agree that they both (especially elwing) get a lot more flak than they deserve, i don’t agree that therefore elrond and elros were never the slightest bit mad at them and fully forgave them for everything with no reservations

because, well, they were left behind. elwing had no other choice, but they were still left behind; it led to the world being saved, but they were still left behind. all the best intentions in the universe don’t erase the weeks and months and years of waiting, of a hope that grew thinner and frailer until it finally quietly broke

that’s a real hurt, and a real grievance. even if the twins rationally understand that their parents were making the best out of their terrible situation, you can’t logic away emotions like that. it’s perfectly possible for them to know they have no reason to resent eärendil or elwing, and yet still harbour that bitterness and pain

(i did write a thing once where elrond loudly rejects eärendil as his father in favour of maglor, but something i didn’t add in that i probably should have is that elrond later regretted doing that)

(not like, several centuries later, when he’d grown old and wise. two hours later, when he’d calmed down. but he was still legitimately angry at eärendil, because the one thing angry teenage elrond was not lacking in was reasons to be mad at the adults around him, and before he could figure out if he had anything less furious to say the hosts of the valar left middle-earth behind)

(it’s another element to the tragedy of the whole thing. in that particular story, which is mostly aiming for maximum pain, the only thing elrond’s birth parents know about their son for thousands of years is that he hates them)

(and he doesn’t, not really. you can’t hate someone you’ve never known)

not that i think they couldn’t ever make up with their parents! fics where elrond and his birth parents work past all the things that lie between them and form a functional familial bond despite it all give me life. i just don’t like the idea that there’s nothing difficult for them to work past

i don’t like the idea that elrond and elros would naturally, effortlessly identify with the mother they last saw when they were six and the people they only vaguely remember. i can see them doing it as a political move, i can see them going for it as a deliberate personal choice, but i can’t seeing it being immediate and automatic and easy

no matter how great a pair of heroes eärendil and elwing are, that doesn’t change the fact that to elrond and elros, they’re at most a few scattered memories and a collection of far-off stories. and so long as the twins stay in middle-earth, they’re never going to draw any closer

compared to the dynamic, multifaceted, personal, and deep bonds they have with the fëanorians - who, and i know i keep saying this but i think it gets tossed aside way more casually than it should, are the people who actually raised them, their birth parents must feel like a distant idea

and that’s why i can never buy interpretations of elrond as 100% sindarin, a pure son of doriath, with no messy grey areas or awkward jagged edges to his identity. given everything we know about his life, it seems almost cartoonishly simplistic

honestly it seems like a narrative a bunch of old doriathrin nobles trying to manouevre elrond into being high king of the sindar or something would propagate. it's neat and nice and tidy, something that’d be much more convenient for everyone if elrond did feel that way

but i just don’t see how he can. this narrative is easy and simple in a way real people never are, it ignores all the forces pulling him apart. elrond being uncomplicatedly sindarin with the life he lives and the people he's close to - that doesn’t make any sense to me

which isn’t to say i think he’s 100% noldorin, from either a gondolindrim or a fëanorian perspective. (i find it a little more believable, given, again, who he grew up around and who he hangs out with, but it’s still a bit too reductive for my tastes.) it’s also not to say i couldn’t believe an elrond who made an active choice to emphasise his sindarin heritage

it’s not how i think of him, but it works. i don’t have a problem with other people interpreting the complexities of the twins’ identities differently

i just have a problem with people acting like it doesn’t exist

in general i think there’s a lot untapped potential that gets left behind when you declare the twins, separately or together, as All One Thing

they’re descended from half the noble houses of beleriand, and they have deep personal ties to most of the rest. they belong to all of the free peoples even the dwarves, somehow, probably and i feel like that was kind of the old man’s point? so many peoples meet in them, to say they wholly belong to any one species is probably an oversimplification

they sit at a crossroads of potential identities, and rather than narrowing down their worldviews to one single path, they take the hard road and choose all of them. that’s what you need to do, if you want to change the world

and, to bring this back to my ostensible topic, in my estimation at least this mélange of possible selves does include them as fëanorians! it’s not overpowering, but it’s certainly there, and the adults they grow into long after they’ve left the host still bear influence from their childhood

nothing super obvious, nothing that wouldn’t stand out if you didn’t know what to look for, but there’s something almost incandescent in how fiercely elros reaches out for his dreams

there’s something almost defiant in elrond’s drive to be as kind as summer

as for who they publically claim as their family... honestly, it depends. while it’s usually more tactically prudent for elros to connect himself to his various human ancestors, on occasion he does find a use for his free in with the elf mafia, and elrond, code switcher par excellence, is famously the son of whoever is most politically convenient at the moment, which is rarely, but not never, maglor

(in the privacy of their own minds, well, eärendil and elwing may have been the parents elros was supposed to have, but maglor was the parent he actually had, and elros doesn’t particularly care to mope over what might have been. elrond, for his part, figures that after all the shit maglor has put him through, the least that bastard owes him is a father)

but honestly? i think before any of their mountain of identities, before thinking of themselves as sindarin or gondolindel or hadorian or haladin or fëanorian or anything, elrond and elros identify as themselves

they are peredhil, they are númenóreans, they are whoever they make themselves to be. that’s how elrond finally resolved his identity, figured out who he was and found something past the pain and the rage

he wasn’t doriathrin, or gondolindrin, or falathrin, or fëanorian, or whatever else. he was elrond, no more and no less

and that person, elrond, could be whatever he chose to be

... elros came to a similar conclusion, with much less sturm und drang that he’s willing to admit. being able to go ‘hey, i can’t possibly be biased towards any one of your cultures, because i’m descended from all of you and i was raised by murderelves’ makes it a lot easier to unite people around your personal banner, turns out

the stories other people tried to force on them shattered into pieces, and the peredhel twins were free to shape themselves into anything they could dream of

and as the new world struggles alive, these lost children of an Age of death begin to bloom into their full glorious selves -

i just. i love the poetry of that. despite every single shadow that hangs over their past, despite all the clashing notes pulling them apart, they harmonise it all into a greater, kinder theme, determined to make their world a better place in whatever way they can

they fail, of course, but so do all things. the inevitable march of entropy doesn’t diminish the long millennia they (and their descendants) held onto the light

and their growing up in the fëanorian host definitely had a huge effect on the noble lords they became. you can see it in elros’ loud ambition to create a land of happiness and hope, elrond’s quiet resolve to heal all the hurts inflicted by this marred reality

it wasn’t a perfect time by any means, but neither was it a nightmare. it was what it was, a desperate existence at the edge of a knife where, nevertheless, they were loved

even after years upon decades upon centuries have passed, it’s hard for the wise king and the honourable sage to separate out and identify all the conflicting emotions swirling around their childhood. they never knew eärendil or elwing, true, but they also never really knew maglor

not as equals, not as adults, not as people who could truly understand him. he disappeared into the fog of history, leaving only childhood memories of razor-sharp, gentle hands

it’s messy and it’s complicated and getting any real closure would be like shoving their way through a thornbush with bare hands even if elrond could find the shithead, and yet at the core of it all, there is light. not the brightest of lights, maybe, but an enduring one

that contrast, above all, that note of warmth amidst the shadows, is what fascinates me so much about their relationship. three screwed up people in a screwed up world, finding a little peace with each other

and the fact that somehow, it does have a good ending - the children grow up magnificent and compassionate and just, they become exemplars of all their peoples, lodestars of the new world born out of the ashes of the old - that makes it seem to me like this relationship must have contained some fragment of happiness

but, fuck, all the darkness that surrounds that love, all the tangled-up emotions its existence necessitates, all the prefabricated self-identities it can never slot into - nothing about it is simple, nothing about it is easy, and i find that utterly enthralling. especially how, despite everything, that flickering light never goes out

well, i don’t think it does, anyway. my take on this relationship is both complicated enough no one else ever quite gets it right and well-defined enough every single ‘error’ in other people’s interpretations sticks out like a kinslayer in rivendell

it is an entirely self-inflicted problem, i will admit. other people are allowed to interpret those complexities differently from me, and it’s entirely my own fault i lack the :waves hands around nebulously: to write my own hypothetical fic on the subject at a pace faster than glacial

still, though. i do wish there was more fic out there that engaged with these complexities. a lot of the common fandom interpretations of this relationship just sweep it all away

[waitineedaname]

"Accidently ending a phone call with your roommate with a casual ‘I love you’ seems like a very good reason to move out"

For benrey @ gordon?

“And can you pick up some oat milk while you’re there? I just realized I’m out.”

“Man, oat milk freaks me out,” Benrey said, pushing their shopping cart towards the dairy section anyway. “Like, do oats even have, uh. Others?”

“Others?” There was a beat of silence as Gordon attempted to figure out exactly what the hell Benrey was talking about. “You mean udders?”

“Yeah. Cow things.”

“Dude, that’s not how oat milk works.” Gordon’s laugh made Benrey’s cheap phone speakers crackle.

“Then how does it work? Huh? Mister scientician?” Benrey propped the phone between their ear and shoulder as they opened the fridge door to grab the brand of oat milk he knew Gordon liked.

“I don’t fucking know! I’m not a goddamn milk scientist.” Even through a phone call, Benrey could hear the smile on Gordon’s face. “They squeeze juice out of the oats or smush them into a paste or something. I don’t know. Stop making me think about how oat milk works, it’s going to make me not want to drink it anymore.”

“Cool, so I’ll buy milk with extra lactose then.”

“You will not, unless you wanna deal with me laying on the couch complaining all afternoon because my stomach hurts.”

“You do that anyway.”

“Fuck off, man.” Gordon’s tone of voice didn’t carry any bite to it. “Alright, I gotta go, I’m almost at the end of the queue to pick Joshie up. I’ll see you back at home, okay?”

“Mhm. Love you, bye.” Benrey hung up and shoved their phone back in their jacket pocket. They unfolded the shopping list and attempted to decipher the mix of their own chicken scratch, Gordon’s doctor handwriting, and the occasional misspelled request for snacks in Joshua’s six year old handwriting. Okay, they had to get those frozen chicken nuggets Joshua liked, another pack of seltzer, a can of black beans since Gordon was planning to cook dinner tonight-

Thinking about Gordon made them suddenly freeze in place as they realized what they’d just done. Did… Did they just say “love you” on the phone with Gordon?

Aw, fuck.

They’d been living with Gordon for a while now. It hadn’t always been an easy thing for either of them. When they’d been freshly respawned, both of them had been jumpy around each other at best, and at worst, they were at each other’s throats trying to kill each other. It took a long time and a lot of uncomfortable conversations for them to get to the point where they could interact without an unbearable amount of tension. From there, they were able to start rebuilding an actual friendship. Turns out, they got along a lot better when they weren’t in mortal danger. Who knew!

Living with Gordon involved a lot of rules, both spoken and unspoken. They involved stuff like “don’t ask weird questions about Gordon’s feet,” “if one of them gets too angry, walk it off instead of actually fighting,” and “no gross body horror in front of Gordon’s son.” It also involved shit like “please for the love of god don’t put empty juice cartons back in the fridge” and “don’t stain the carpets with Sweet Voice, this is a rental and that security deposit is worth getting back.” So far, Benrey hadn’t had too much trouble following the rules. They had been a security guard, after all; following rules was supposed to be their thing. Besides, they were a low price to pay to get to spend time with Gordon.

One of those early unspoken rules, however, had been “keep the flirting to a minimum.” That one had been a little tricky at first, but it had been necessary, especially back when they still weren’t on the best of terms. Benrey learned that when Gordon was already worked up, blowing a kiss did the opposite of diffusing the situation. This was news to Benrey. Who didn’t love a little kiss from their buddies? Lame.

That had been an early rule, though, and one that had kind of faded into the background over time. The longer they lived together, the more physically affectionate they both got, and a little domesticity is only to be expected when you share a household. It was nice. Comfortable.

And then Benrey had to go and say “I love you” on the phone. What the fuck.

That had to be crossing a line, right? Gordon was fine with some handholding and some cuddling and they’d make dinner together once a week, but this had to be pushing it.

Benrey went through the rote motions of buying the rest of their groceries without really paying attention, too busy panicking. There was only one option. They had to move out. This was fine. This was totally fine. They could just crash on Tommy’s couch until they find a place of their own because there was no way this wasn’t going to make Gordon freak the fuck out. As much as they loved fucking with Gordon, they’d learned there was the fun kind of freaking him out and the bad kind of freaking him out. They were fairly certain this fell into the bad category.

By the time that they were walking up to their apartment door, they were already mentally packing up all their things, resigned to their fate. They were so stuck in their own head that Joshua barreling into their legs when they opened the door actually startled them.

“Benny!” Joshua cheered, clinging to their jeans.

“Hey, li’l dude.” Benrey carefully tried to push past the kid without tripping over him on the way to the kitchen. Tragically, that’s where Gordon also happened to be.

“Hey, what took you so long?” Gordon asked, taking some of the grocery bags from them. “I thought you’d gotten lost in Costco again.”

Benrey grunted noncommittally and started putting away groceries instead of answering Gordon. Maybe if they didn’t look at him, they could avoid confronting whatever Gordon’s reaction was. Yeah, definitely, this seemed like a sustainable, reasonable decision to make. Yep.

“Dude.” Gordon’s hand suddenly appeared on their forearm. Benrey stared at it, then looked up at Gordon’s concerned face. “Are you okay?”

“Huh?”

“You’re putting carrots in the utensil drawer.”

Benrey looked down at their hands again. Oh. So they were.

“You’ve been acting weird ever since you got back from the store,” Gordon said, gently taking the carrots away from them. “Did something happen? You wanna talk about it?”

Benrey screwed their mouth up. No, they didn’t want to talk about it, but learning how to talk through things like adults was something they both had agreed to do. That had been a rule introduced by an exasperated Tommy, sick of mediating their bullshit. So, they sighed and looked away while Gordon put the carrots in the vegetable drawer of the fridge. “I was thinking about how I’ve gotta move out.”

“What?” Gordon stood up too fast and smacked his head on the freezer door. He swore loudly, and Benrey reached over to hand him a bag of frozen peas to put on the back of his head. “Thanks. But also, what? Since when are you moving out?”

“Uh, since now?” Benrey said, confused. Shouldn’t it be obvious?

“Why?”

“‘Cause I said I love you on the phone? Dummy? You, uh, a fucking old man got bad brain disease, not remembering things?” They said, defaulting to picking on Gordon to avoid focusing on anything else. Gordon stared blankly at them for a moment, then, against all odds, a grin spread across his face.

“Benrey,” He said, and Benrey decided he didn't like that tone one bit, “Are you embarrassed?”

“Whuh? No.” There was no way they could be embarrassed. That definitely wasn't what was going on here. Nope. Not a bit, “...Maybe.”

“Dude, you don't have to be embarrassed about that.” Gordon laughed. “Do you know how often I've said stupid Freudian slips? I called my sixth grade teacher mom once and wanted to change my name and move to Canada. I've been there.”

“It wasn't, uh… It wasn't too much? Not crossing a line or anything?”

“Nah, man. It was kinda sweet.” Gordon flashed him a smile and finished putting away the last of the groceries.

“Cool.” Benrey relaxed, letting go of the tension that had been building in their shoulders. “That's good ‘cause I was gonna fight you for custody of your Xbox.” Gordon snorted.

“Good fucking luck, you’re too much of a Playstation guy to win that case.”

The evening passed relatively uneventfully from there. Gordon enlisted Benrey’s help in cooking dinner, and Joshua eagerly told them all about the cool dinosaur facts he’d learned in class that day. They went through the easy routine of watching just one episode (which of course always turned into several episodes) of Joshua’s choice of TV, then Benrey helped wash up in the kitchen while Gordon put Josh to bed. Gordon joined them as they finished washing dishes and squeezed Benrey’s shoulder affectionately when they were done.

“Alright, man, I think I’m gonna head to bed early tonight.”

Benrey nodded. “Cool. I’ll be quiet.”

“Don’t worry about it. G’night, dude.”

“Night, Gordon.”

“Oh, and Benrey?” Gordon paused in the doorway of his bedroom and waited until Benrey glanced up at him. Gordon smiled. “Love you too.”

He shut the door before Benrey could respond, leaving Benrey to stare blankly at the door. They let out a groan, careful not to wake Joshua. Oh, Gordon was going to be the death of them.

[kindness-ricochets]

I’ve been seeing a lot of thoughts and hc of autistic wylan lately and you seem to also be a fan of the concept. May I ask why? Exactly? I could definitely kinda see it but wanna hear you thoughts you’re always so eloquent

Hey there anon! Sorry for the delay—I’m guessing you already found an answer to this elsewhere while I was off Tumblr for a bit, but just in case, here are my thoughts. This will be heavily personal, but… well, you can’t very well ask an autistic person about autism and expect neutrality!

Autism is different for everyone and can be difficult to pin down, so while Wylan is arguably autistic, he misses several beats that for me would have made him definitively and undeniably autistic. For example, when the bells start to ring, triggering black protocol—I work in a place with a lot of bells and am frequently caught too close to one and normally press my hands over my ears until it’s over because that sound is like shrapnel raking across my insides. All of them. Not just the ear and brain parts. Wylan doesn’t have that sort of visceral reaction, but that may just mean he doesn’t have the same sensitivities that I do, or to the same level. He also never, that I recall, eats meat—as weird as that might sound, eating meat is incredibly complicated with heightened sensitivities to taste and texture. I’m not sure how old I was when I realized it was strange to get up from the table to spit out my food because it viscerally repulsed me. So it might be that Wylan is autistic and has different experiences than I do. Those are things I would include in a story as major indicators of a character being autistic. This might also mean that his father’s way of raising him taught him to hide unusual reactions and stimming behaviors. It’s not that much of a reach to assume a man who tried to abuse the dyslexia out of his son would take the same approach to autism. (More on autism and abuse later.)

So while I’m going to lay out why I read Wylan as autistic, that’s why I think it’s valid to read him as not being autistic as well. Both are valid.

A final caveat, I am well overdue for a reread of the books, so I likely left something out or could have found better examples. Take this as a few of my reasons for a personal headcanon. Anyone who feels differently, that's fine! We can each read things our own way :)

1 - Hyperfixation: The way Wylan loves music

Most of the Crows’ backgrounds color how they see the world: Kaz’s shrewdness, Matthias’s tactical thinking and superstition, Inej’s faith and Suli wisdom, etc. That’s a sign of good character writing. But very little of Wylan’s upbringing seems to have influenced how he sees the world. It comes closest when he thinks about how his father would scorn his new friends, but we never see that scorn from Wylan.

The way a hyperfixation feels, it’s like you’ve always lived in a close parallel world, never fully been a part of the other one where it seems like everyone else lives, but suddenly there’s this bright shining piece of your soul laced through the other world. It lets you connect, it lets you exist in their realm, and you can’t help but filter everything new through that lens because it’s the brightest, most wonderful thing. (I had been between hyperfixations for a while when I started a new job; six months into that work, I read Crooked Kingdom. One of my coworkers thought I had fallen in love, it was that marked a difference.)

So, combining these: Wylan never really acts like he was part of his father’s world, and indeed is in some ways separate from the other Crows, but he parses everything through music, his hyperfixation. He sets words to music to remember them, like he does with the contract. Even his own anxiety is made sense of through music, when in his first narrated chapter, he sets it to music: what am I doing here what am I doing here…. When he’s overwhelmed, his thoughts are “a jangle of misplayed chords”. The Crows have backgrounds that influence how they react to the world, but Wylan’s hyperfixation is his means of experiencing and understanding the world.

2 - Literal thinking: Wylan responds to exact words

In this post, I went into detail on the line where Wylan suggested waking up men to kill them. Wylan is generally unsupportive of killing people—Oomen, Smeet’s clerk, his father… he advocates not-murder in each of these situations. Accepting his aversion to murder, his suggestion to wake men up and kill them seems like a genuine reaction to Jesper saying he doesn’t want to kill unconscious men. Wylan takes things literally.

This happens the most with Jesper, probably because Jesper talks to Wylan the most. Nina and Matthias don’t really register him past how he might be useful, Inej is usually quite direct, and Kaz is very deliberate when he speaks with Wylan. This really interests me because Kaz tends to vary his speech more than the others do, he adapts more to being around other people. He jokes a little with Jesper, spars with Nina, speaks more openly and more sharply with Inej, and he’s precise with Wylan. Kaz may not know what autism is, but he recognizes what’s effective with Wylan.

Another example is when Wylan is sketching the Ice Court plans and Jesper says it looks like a cake. There are plenty of valid responses here: pointing out that concentric circles look like lots of things, that it’s just a sketch, telling Jesper to stop looking over his shoulder. Instead, Wylan says that the Ice Court is sort of like a cake. That… doesn’t sound like something Wylan would normally say. He’s not addressing the whole situation, he’s addressing the specific words Jesper said.

One of the most heartbreaking examples of this (to me, anyway) is with Marya. Wylan does the same thing with his mother, when she asks if he’s there for her money and says she hasn’t got any, and his response is, “I don’t either.” We understand as readers that what Marya is communicating here is that she is so accustomed to being utterly ignored unless she is being used, and if she told Wylan that no one visited but to take advantage and she assumed he was here for the same reason, he would say it wasn’t the case. But he just responds to the immediate statement.

There are a lot of examples of this.

3 — 0% perception, 100% creativity

Wylan can identify things that don’t make sense or that he doesn’t understand, but at the beginning of the series he can’t make leaps, only ask questions. On the Ferolind, he wonders about the source of water at the Ice Court; though Kaz doesn’t say as much, he was clearly wondering, too, because he eventually figured out the underground river. There’s an interesting parallel here where, in the beginning of Crooked Kingdom, Wylan asks a question about how they’ll break into Smeet’s and Kaz tells him to use his eyes instead of running his mouth—at which point Wylan is able to figure it out. I don’t think this is because he never tried before, though, but because no one ever bothered to teach him. Kaz can be harsh but he gives harsh corrections rather than harsh rejections and Wylan learns from him.

It’s hard to understand the world for people with autism. The world is designed and run by and for people whose minds are fundamentally different from ours, whose thoughts and experiences are unlike ours. Imagine trying to learn English or Spanish or Mandarin or any other spoken language if your first language was olfactory. That’s sort of what it’s like for someone with autism to just get dropped into the world and expected to figure this out.

This can be attributed to Wylan’s upbringing, but I disagree with that because none of the others were brought up in the Barrel, either, and Wylan doesn’t understand trade or politics with any special skill. Kaz wasn’t born in the Barrel, but he managed to go from “stealing is wrong” to “wrong isn’t my concern” real quick; Colm Fahey didn’t raise his son on gambling and firefights; the Ghafas never expected their daughter to be away from the family. Only Nina has relevant training—and even that’s precious little, she left school way too early. The others figured it out; Wylan needed a bit more help. He also seems surprised by the way his father conducts business. Wylan takes things on face value—like the time he’s surprised someone would do something, simply because it’s unlawful. This is something he expresses to a group of gangsters. He’s never been taught the way of any world and these things are not intuitive to him.

But Wylan isn’t stupid.

He doesn’t know how to understand the world, but he does understand how things go together. Given a pointy diamond, a handle, and a screw, he cut through Grisha glass. He carries flashbangs and magic napalm, he recreates military hardware—Wylan understands how to make things interact for a specific result. But to me the most telling thing isn’t just that he puts together chemical pieces, it’s that he figured out Jesper controlled bullets. He saw the pieces and put them together.

Wylan can understand when things don’t make sense, but he can’t make sense of them—yet when he understands things at their basic level, he understands them without preconception, for what they are. This is a very autistic way of thinking about things, it goes back to the literalism. He can’t make the leaps of logic other people can, but he also doesn’t make the assumptions they do—“I’ve never heard of a bullet Grisha, so that’s not a thing” vs “Well Jesper’s an almost impossibly good shot and he controls metal and bullets are metal, so why not?”

4 - Broken brain/body connection

Wylan’s great at chemistry and drawing and playing flute or piano—but he’s something of a disaster other times. This is in particular contrast to the other characters, all of whom are physically adept. Meanwhile it’s a challenge for Wylan to climb a rope ladder and he spends a full paragraph trying to figure out what to do with his hands. It’s easy to say, well, he’s used to a sedentary lifestyle, but at this point he’s not. He’s worked in the tannery for months. He’s just physically awkward.

I have less to say on this point only because it’s about something I don’t fully understand myself. I don’t really understand what it would be like to have a body that just… does things? Like normal stuff? Without tics and stims. No idea. Only that Wylan’s discomfort in and seeming lack of mastery of his own body feels very relatable to me.

5 - Abuse

One of the most familiar things about Wylan is how he has been so thoroughly abused and broken down that he’s afraid to do or say much of anything. Again, this is a place his background can be an obscuring factor. Of course Wylan didn’t think to blow up the walls when the first met the parem-juiced jurda and got trapped, he’s a spoiled rich kid! Except, he also startled when Jesper said his name later. Wylan didn’t hesitate because he was spoiled, he hesitated because he had no confidence.

He also thinks Kaz would laugh at him for playing music at his mother’s grave. Now, personally, I can’t see Kaz laughing at Wylan—being indifferent, thinking it’s pointless sentimentality, shaking his head, maybe commenting sharply that they need to go if they don’t have the time. But not laughing. Kaz is a snarky, sharp-edged jerk sometimes, but he doesn’t go out of his way to criticize, he just lets people know when they inconvenience him.

Wylan has been trained to identify attention as negative by an overbearing abusive father who literally saw him as less favorable than a demon. Now, that may have been hyperbole, but Jan criticized everything he could about Wylan—art, music, emotion—and made clear that he was worthless and competent to nothing. (Jan Van Eck can suck a rotten donkey dick but that’s neither here nor there.)

A lot of people with autism experience levels of bullying that have similar impacts. Or as the kids these days are calling it: we go to school. We go to school where we are weird. Where we look weird and move weird and talk about weird things and there’s a whole little bevy of asswipes to makes sure we know it. I got teased more for playing Pokemon and sitting alone reading than the kid who pissed himself onstage at assembly. (This was before Pokemon was cool. I’m old.) And that is not unusual for autistic kids. It’s also not unusual for this to be compounded by relatives or even parents who may be trying to help but don’t understand and can make things even harder.

So we can’t read social cues and we’re taught at a vicious age that everything that comes naturally to us is wrong. Imagine trying to interact in society with that background. There is no guide and most advice from neurotypical people isn’t actually what they mean. It breaks you down.

Wylan’s anxiety isn’t definitive of autism, but isn’t something that was incredibly familiar as someone whose neurodivergent experiences created a strong level of anxiety.

6 — High Compassion, Low Social Competence

Wylan isn’t very good at making friends. In fact, none of the Crows likes him much in the beginning, and only some of them soften toward him by the end. (Matthias and Nina come to respect his skills as a chemist but neither seems to particularly like him.) But you can see throughout the books that Wylan wants to connect with them and be one of them, he just… isn’t. He’s off-beat. He’s weird. He asks questions and mimics behaviors (trying to be cool and tough like Jesper, saying “mission” like Matthias does, imitating Kaz’s scheming face) but he doesn’t quite get how to adapt.

But he still cares about people. Not just them. Everyone. He cares about the people they leave in the ditch outside the prison wagon, he cares about Hanna Smeet, he cares about Alys. He cares about the people who’ll take a hit from Kaz’s sugar caper.

Wylan’s awkward social skills have undeniable big autism energy. I posit his compassion does as well. This is simply who Wylan is, and that means being someone who cares about everyone. I have nothing to back up that this is related to autism. I can say that it’s like me. (Not to brag.) I can’t turn off the part of my brain that says everyone matters. Individuals can opt out of that compassion, but they have it by default. There’s a certain agony in feeling a pull toward and love for just about everyone and yet an inability to develop meaningful connections with them, and that keen loneliness… it just burns.

Again, it’s not definitive of autism, but it’s very similar to an autistic experience.

I said in the beginning that I didn’t think Wylan certainly had autism and I stand by that, but he is a powerfully honest reflection of many people who do. So he can be understood to have autism, and that’s part of the reason some people have that headcanon.

[lupinescribbler]

The perspective of someone who was homeschooled their entire life up to college.

First, a background on my specific experience. I was homeschooled secularly (not based on religion) and primarily taught by my mom who is a mechanical engineer (well educated) with no background in education. I am also neurotypical — to the best of my knowledge — so nothing that would immediately set me back in a typical school environment.

Socialization. This is a concern I hear brought up a lot about homeschooling. I could go on a whole rant about how weird and misleading ‘socialization’ is at schools, and that it’s something that has to be unlearned (cliques? Segregated to primarily interact with only your own age? Us versus them mentality with adults?) but instead I’ll just talk about my own experiences with it. Through my childhood my mom sought out opportunities to hang out with other kids. I studied martial arts for most of my life and made good friends in class, I went to hang out in other groups of homeschoolers, and as I got older I ended up being pretty active in my church (Lutheran fyi). As a teen I volunteered to work with kids both at my library and church. There’s a lot more stuff I could bring up, particularly regarding extracurriculars, but I think that paints a good enough picture. I’m introverted by nature, but I’d argue that I got plenty of opportunities to satisfy what little social itch I had, and developed good communication and collaborative skills with people of all ages.

Education/curriculum. Another common concern I hear about homeschooling has to do with the method and curriculum of education. Again, I could launch a whole argument about how typical schooling shouldn’t be the gold standard. I have the highest respect for educators, but the system is kinda screwed. I don’t believe any kid can be focused and actively learning for the entire length of a school day, and I don’t believe you can efficiently and effectively teach a huge class full of kids while meeting the needs of each specific one. Some kids are going to understand the concept in the first five minutes and be bored out of their minds, others aren’t going to get it by the end of the class. Everyone is going at their own pace and learning in their own way, and schools just aren’t capable of accommodating for that. I’ve spent a lot of time tutoring the kids who fell through the cracks, so trust me I know. Homeschooling, at least in my home, has been able to accommodate for both ends of that spectrum. My older sister raced ahead and started community college at thirteen, graduated college around eighteen, and is now doing her post-grad research halfway around the world surrounded by friends and passionate about hobbies and her lab work. I struggled deeply with math most of my childhood, but with my mom’s patience and support managed to overcome that (and get my damn A in calculus). I could talk more about methods, but I think the results hopefully speak for themselves. While my own achievements aren’t nearly as impressive as my sister’s thus far, I am closing on my first semester at college with A’s in all my classes (provided I get over a thirty-some percent on my Anatomy & Physiology final). I was prepared for college (even got almost a year of credits met beforehand via online classes, thanks pandemic) and have all the skills and support I need to succeed academically.

There’s more benefits of homeschooling I could talk about. My closeness to my family, the way I got to explore numerous different hobbies and passions due to not being overloaded with schoolwork and homework. My sense of ownership over my own education. However I also want to acknowledge that while I don’t believe this experience is rare, it is also not the experience of every homeschooler. Non-secular homeschoolers concern me, ‘unschoolers’ concern me. My hope with this isn’t to proclaim homeschooling as the optimal solution, to diss public schools, or to convince people to homeschool. My goal is to say that homeschooling can be a valid — or even the best — option for some people, and not just people who fit a specific mold (neurodivergent, educator background, etc)

TLDR: Socialization is kinda a bullshit concept but it can be done while homeschooled. Homeschooling can successfully prepare kids for college/higher ed. It can allow kids to pursue passions/hobbies and teach them to take charge of their education.

“It’s a better option for some kids/circumstances.”

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[villainsandvictimsalliance]

Would you please give me headcanons about how shigadabi caught feeling for each other? Loosely sticking to canon if you can🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

That "loosely sticking to canon" is a little tricky for me. Why? Because in the canon I see them as two guys that find comfort in knowing that someone understands them and they are free to do as they please because the other won't stop them.

This is gonna be a long one and I apologize for it, but I love them so much. I can't help it.

Still, here are my headcanons 😈:

In the beginning, Dabi is never around and when he is, he's being mean and annoying in the background. Shigaraki doesn't tolerate him, but he respects him. Since they met, Shigaraki knew that boy wouldn't stop to achive what he wanted, just like himself.

There was a moment between them, the seed of something. Before the summer camp attack, Shigaraki called Dabi apart so he could set the nomu to respond to his voice and his voice only. You can imagine Shigaraki walking up to him, telling him to follow and Dabi being a piece of trash about it.

Shigaraki them tells him why he's needed out loud and turns around, already walking. The rest of the League complains or comments in the background but Dabi leaves them without a word. He's too busy thinking Tomura must be really stupid to trust him when he barely knows him. Or well he could— He could be smart enough to see through him?

With the years, Dabi has learned to be careful of those guys. He doesn't trust people, no exceptions. He prefers to think Tomura is an idiot.

Being honest, that was the minute Dabi decided he would try to read Tomura. He was he new boss, Dabi was only only being careful. Nothing more.

Let's keep the imaging.

Tomura sits and he unceremoniously calls the nomu, gives him some commands and tells Dabi to use his voice to give him the same commands. They do it a couple of times until Shigaraki is satisfied and Dabi is free to go.

For someone else watching, it was cold and professional. For them, it was kinda weird. There was a little tension than neither of them was acknowledging and there was a quietness, a silence Tomura was used to. It was weird because it felt like they were alone, because they were used to being alone, but somehow they were being alone together— with the freaking nomu. It felt like visiting the vet. Dabi didn't like it.

Time goes by. Things happen.

They have a silent agreement that marks Dabi as one of Shigaraki's commander. He's a special one tho, because apparently he can do whatever the he he wants. He says he's gonna recruit? Tomura approves it with a simple nod and that's it.

Since we have only seen Twice's apartment, I'm assuming here that the rest of the League lived in the bar with Kurogiri and Tomura. Which makes sense because they wouldn't have anywhere else to go.

The only times Shigaraki and Dabi are together is when Dabi occasionally return to their base for whatever reasons. It is loud and crowded so they don't get the chance to interact that much. What they can do is observe the other.

None of them is ashamed of doing it. They stare and stare back. The League plays it off because that's probably two idiots trying to assert dominance or some shit.

It's stupid and they only find out about useless things. What they like to drink, how they walk or react to certain things, what throws them off, what makes them happy... Things you'd know about your classmate.

Their interactions change after what happened in Kamino and the night Magne died.

Dabi was taken by surprise when he saw Tomura walking in. He was calm, collected, even more honest than usual. When he took the hand off his face, the whole room held their breath.

His features were delicate, even beneath all the scars and dry skin. He's eyes were gentle, which was scarier than his maniac look. They held blood and the promise of danger, but not to them. Dabi brushed it off later.

Dabi keeps being his sarcastic self. Shigaraki doesn't react that much. Their barriers are tight closed as ever. Except when...

Well, those nights. The ones they don't talk about. The ones when Dabi is drunk and Tomura is way too sleep deprived and they find themselves insulting the other in hushes. They're normally out of the League's hearing range, alone in some abandoned part of their actual base.

Catching feelings for the other is a good expression. It's like they're catching a cold or something viral by accident. You just have to be in the wrong place at the right time to get yourself infected.

Their minds are blurry and their hearts are feeling raw the first time they interact like that. It's like Dabi is nothing but a young man trying to find his way back home from some bar because he was done with his working week. Or maybe Tomura is a tired student who's been dealing with a lot of stress and it's feeling bare and naked with his hair floating around with the wind.

They look at each other like they always do. Like trying to solve a mystery. Like trying to put together a puzzle. Like trying to decipher a code you shouldn't be worried about, but it distracts you from the world so why not.

Tomura is the one who notices Dabi is bleeding. He points it out. Dabi shrugs and then Tomura just shakes his head and starts walking, Dabi following him, recognizing that face from being a silent command.

For the rest of the night, Dabi teaches Shigaraki how to fix his staples and Shigaraki does so, taking the hand away from his face for better care.

They wonder about the other. How can Tomura know so much about fighting when it looked like he always lived alone? Why was Dabi drinking something stronger than usual? Where his scars always there? Had he patched someone else before? Was Dabi used to other people patching him?

They go to sleep. When they wake up, the only think in their heads is this can't happen again. They got distracted. Distraction means getting softer. That's a no no for them.

Except it happens again. And again. Until it starts happening when they're sober and they know they're screwed. They shouldn't be feeling safe enough with each other to don't feel the need to say something. They shouldn't be on the non-verbal stage. They shouldn't be taking turns what the other sleep to keep guard. Shigaraki shouldn't know where Dabi is most of the time, in case he wants to go and visit him in secret. The League doesn't know where they go most of the time, anyway.

If you're looking for a phrase to prove they have caught feelings for the other, you have no luck. They don't trust words, because most words are lies. But they can't lie when they look into each other's eyes

And against all odds, it changes nothing. No one suspects a thing, no one can sees them. Of course, what is there to see? Nothing at all. Just a king and his commander. Or maybe, just two guys sharing what's not there.

Because there's nothing there. If Dabi craves Tomura's fingers on his back, it's only because he's hurt again. If Tomura longs for waking up to the sound of Dabi's smoking by the window, it's because that means he doesn't have to sleep for a least a while now.

Dabi looks at Tomura across the room and thinks It's like catching a cold. It's gonna go away. A cold won't distract him from his revenge. When the time comes, he won't think about Tomura. And he's right. It's just a cold. Tomura is happy is just a cold too.

Ah, there's a problem, one we know but they forgot. It is too easy to catch a cold. They come back with the season, when we're vulnerable and cold. And if you catch enough colds and you don't cure them properly, it can become something worst. More permanent. More deadly.

For what they want, I hope they're being careful. Sure, they're fine right now, healthy, they talk and laugh and plan and murder. Do they sleep well at night? When they're hearts are freezing and they are too drunk or too sleep deprived, do they still go to each other? When their brains won't stop working, would the miss those nights? Would they wonder? Would they wish? We see only the surface, but beyond their walls...

Are they badly sick? Oh. Are they... Maybe.... No, of course not, but... When no one sees them, when no one talks, when they don't have to be something else, when they can just exists... When the remember their voices echoing in that room, that time, first time alone, just a nomu and their stares...

And sometimes, they'd look into each other's eyes just to make sure they still know how to do it. And they go crazy, becuase they must be doing somethinf wrong.

It is not an I won't see you die under my watch, so don't die until I'm back and it is not an I'll be taking care of myself too, so don't complain and it is not an prove it, come back safe and sound, come back to me.

That's not what they say. That's not what it means.

And still.

Red eyes.

Blue eyes.

And silence.

[hurricaneonanesthesia]

Believe (Miraculous Ladybug Marichat)

Heyyyy, it's Admin Anesthesia here. I know I haven't posted in a hot minute, but I'm back! I posted the Encanto one and I have a few new ones on my account as well. My requests are always open and I've just come back out of my hermit hole. However, I might just go back in there LMAO. I hope you enjoy this. ——————– Summary: Chat Noir didn't believe in fate until he met Marinette.

Trigger Warnings: None

Content Warnings: Swearing ——————– Chat Noir didn’t believe in a god. He didn’t believe in fate. He didn’t believe in the universe. He didn’t believe in an outside force. He really didn’t believe in anything that could control something he couldn’t.

There was no possible way that there was someone or something out there that was controlling his life and if there was, that someone or something was really fucking him over in the ass.

Two years, eight months, six days, forty-seven minutes, and twenty-six seconds ago, Chat Noir met the eccentric Marinette Dupain Chang.

One year, four months, three days, twenty-three minutes, and forty-three seconds ago, Chat Noir had realized that he had developed a little crush on the said girl.

It had taken him half the time he had known Marinette to realize how much he liked her and everything she did. And now, for some reason, the said outside force, if there really was one, decided to really screw him over.

Every time he was fighting, Marinette was there, trying to help him with the Akuma. Every time he was injured, Marinette was there to heal him. Every time he was having trouble sleeping, Marinette was conveniently on her balcony and always ready to talk to him. Every time he was done with his work, Marinette would rush over to him to make sure he was okay after Ladybug left. Every time he needed an escape from his house, he found Marinette ready to distract him with a present.

If there truly was a god out there, they were taunting him.

To be honest, it wasn’t ideal for him to continue interacting with Marinette if he wanted to get rid of this crush, but he couldn’t stop. He loved the feeling of putting the smile on Marinette's face, loved the feeling of being able to protect her from danger, loved the butterflies in his stomach whenever Marinette gave him a compliment, loved the way his heart skipped every time he gave a compliment to her. He was addicted to it.

So here he was, on a discord call under his alias with Marinette while they were both playing Minecraft, and listening to her rant to him about her next obsession.

“You okay, Chat?” Marinette asked the boy, “You’ve been awfully quiet today.”

“Yeah, sorry, I’m just thinking.” Chat Noir muttered out a flurry of excuses as he listened back to what Marinette was saying, “What were you asking, Mari?”

“Nothing. I’m just worried about you.” Marinette hummed and he glanced over to see that she was gathering wool.

“What are you doing with the wool?” Chat Noir asked.

“It’s nothing.” Marinette replied, changing the topic, “Tell me about your day, kitty.”

Chat Noir couldn’t help the way his heart fluttered at Marinette's nickname for him. It was simple and Ladybug had also deemed that nickname for him, but it was different coming from Marinette.

“It was okay. I’m just kinda tired.”

“Aw, I’m sorry to hear that.”

Chat Noir scoffed, recalling the night before when he stayed up late talking to her until 5 am, “Alright, like you weren’t the reason why I was up until 5 am today.”

He could hear Marinette smile before she cleared her throat, “Sorry.”

Chat Noir laughed, “It’s fine. What are you doing? Do you need me to help you with gathering the wool?”

“Can you grab me flowers from outside? I want pink and red.”

“Gotcha.”

With that, they fell into a comfortable silence as Marinette was humming to the music in the background.

Chat Noir wondered if Marinette believed in fate and the universe. He realized he never asked her.

“Yeah, I do,” Marinette replied.

“Hm?” Chat Noir raised an eyebrow.

“I do believe there’s an outside force that helps us throughout life.”

Oh shit, he hadn’t realized that he said it out loud.

“Why?”

Marinette thought about it, “Hmmm, I don’t really know. I just think I’d like to hope that there’s something out there. Someone maybe. I don’t believe in a God, but…I don’t know. I like the legends that there’s some deity that reigns over our lives and acts for the better of us. I believe that almost everything happens for a reason.”

“Almost everything?”

“Meh, there are some questionable things that I wonder why it exists that I don’t understand why people have to suffer through that in order to have a better life.” Marinette sighed, “But…yeah.”

“Hm.”

“Have you heard about the Chinese legend of Yue Lao?”

“No.”

“Yue Lao is the god of marriage and love and is often depicted as an old man under the moon. His legends actually are the basis of the red string of fate. I don’t really know the name off the top of my head, but there was a man that was walking around and he saw Yue Lao in the streets. He asked what Yue Lao was doing and Yue Lao told him that he was tying the red strings of wife and husband together. Kinda homophobic if I may say so, but you know, it was the Tang Dynasty, what can we expect? The man didn’t believe Yue Lao when Yue Lao told him that this little girl was going to be his wife, so he got a servant to stab her.”

“What?” Chat Noir choked on his spit, “Are you sure that’s how the legend goes?”

He vaguely remembered his Chinese tutor had mentioned it, but nothing to that degree.

“Yeah, I’m 100% sure.” Marinette laughed, “Chinese legends are weird, man. Anyways, when the man grew older, he soon married a girl and found out she had a scar on her back. When the man asked about what the scar was, she told him that she had been stabbed by a man in the marketplace fourteen years ago.”

“Wow….”

“Leaves you speechless, right?” Marinette replied, “Anyways, I told you that because I read a book about Yue Lao doing much more than just tying two people connected together and I really would like to believe that, or at least a version of that. Someone who connects everyone together and that there is a reason things happen. You can control what you do, but in the end, you’ll end up with the friends you were destined to have, the person you were destined to love (if there is supposed to be one), and with the life you wanted to have.”

“Very interesting.” Chat Noir laughed.

Marinette shrugged, “What about you?”

“Nah, I don’t believe in it.”

“Really? Why?”

“I don’t see the point in believing. We have our own choices and our actions all affect each other. There is no fate, there’s only the unknown future that can always change. And besides, if there truly is someone out there controlling my life, they really love to taunt me.” Marinette giggled, “Oh…that sucks, man.”

“I know.” Chat Noir sighed.

They both were silent before Chat Noir commented.

“You don’t talk about your culture a lot.”

“I was bullied as a child, Chat Noir, for being Asian. I pushed my culture and heritage away in hopes that I would be accepted. I should’ve known that wasn’t the case. I’m not really connected with it, but I try my best now to know what’s going on, but…it’s hard sometimes.” Marinette replied, “I’m not sure if I pronounced Yue Lao correctly or even if the legend’s correct. I just told you it because I knew you wouldn’t judge.”

Chat Noir couldn’t help the smile coming across his face, “Right…”

Marinette sighed, “Anyways, thanks for the flowers. Close your eyes.”

“What?”

“Please. And don’t cheat!” Marinette replied.

“Alright, alright!”

With that, he closed his eyes, not peeking until Marinette let him.

“What is this?” Chat Noir asked.

“A heart.”

“I see that. But for what?”

“For you! You always listen to me, and I haven’t had a proper friend. Ever. This is refreshing, and even if we have to try and kill each other every other week, I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

Chat Noir couldn’t help the smile growing on his face. “You got me there. That’s really cute. Thank you, Mari.”

“Anything for you.”

And as Marinette was scattering the heart with the leftover flowers, Chat Noir started to second guess.

Maybe there was fate out there in the world. One that was working towards getting the two of them together. One where Marinette shared his feelings. One where they were truly soulmates. And the possibility of that enthralled him.

And then he started to believe. Because of her.

[thefledglingdm]

Umm can I request directors commentary for literally any Leopika fic you’ve written??? Love your stuff!

❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

ahhahaha thank you so much! yes, absolutely! this is going to be long, because i have decided to do that scene in light of my life, pain of my ass. beware LONG BULLSHIT and spoilers below the cut!

ok to set the scene. i was TERRIFIED to write this part. because this is the climax, you know? we've had 150k words of build-up and emotional tension to this scene. while this has been a romantic story, this is the actual climax of the story. we've spent all this time in kurapika's head as he's dealt with his anxiety, his need for control, his fear of letting go. how he's changed as he's opened up his heart and his life to people outside. and finally he's actually working through all of his emotions and the progress he's made out loud, in front of everyone. and because he forgot about giving his speech until like five minutes before (sorry, kp), he is forced to speak from the heart.

For five agonizing seconds, Kurapika stood alone in the middle of a silent room. Above him, the string lights coalesced into a single shared point of soft white light that illuminated his space.

i so wish this could be adapted to, like, netflix or made into a movie. i put so much into this imagery. the play on light? the cinnamon topography? *chef's kiss* yes please netflix CALL ME.

Everyone in his life was staring at him expectantly, Pairo and Altair and Gon and Killua and Nanika and Alluka and Kalluto and his parents. And approximately a hundred other people on top of that, extended family on both sides, industry insiders, coworkers. All staring at him and waiting for him to say something amazing and powerful and deep about love and what did Kurapika know about love, anyway? He was a thirty-two year old trans man so terrified of his own emotions, so paralyzed by his fear of loss, that he did not figure out he was in love with his best friend until three weeks ago.

this is me screwing the knife in deeper for poor kurapika, sorry. this is so incredibly horrifying for a person with anxiety, as someone with anxiety. behold, the terrifying ordeal of being known.

Five seconds. Kurapika finally found Leorio standing near the back, leaning against the bar. He wondered if Leorio picked the same spot where they sat together the very first time they came here on purpose. Leorio sent him a wink and a thumbs-up.

the terrifying ordeal of being known and being so, so loved anyway. it was great to write in a way that showed leorio realized he was in love with kurapika first (indeed, realized that kurapika was in love with him before kurapika knew himself), because these little interactions shows so much how leorio is inviting and allowing kurapika to come to him on his own time. and supporting him the whole way, because they are friends!!!!

Breathe, Kurapika thought. Just breathe. It’s going to be okay.

this statement was not supposed to be a running theme/motif, but i'm super glad it did! i wrote it as a one-off line for melody, but then i was like, hang on, that's kinda good? every other time i write i'm like, hey, you could make a theme out of this!

“Um,” Kurapika started, his voice cracking. Christ, he sounded seventeen again. He cleared his throat.

my friends told me about how their voices changed and dropped on T. any trans person is stronger and more powerful than any us marine.

“For those of you who may not know, I’m Pairo’s brother. Kurapika. His older one, just to be clear.”

this is definitely something that has happened like a hundred times.

There was a smattering of chuckles around the room. He twisted to look at Pairo. “I’ve known Pairo since he was a toddler dragging a ragged, threadbare T-Rex plushie around behind him. I was there when he read his first chapter book on his own – Dino Hunter, of course – because he came bursting into my room at two o’clock in the morning to tell me about it.” Another round of laughter. “I was there when he got his first notebook, when he won his first writing contest, when he was published in his first magazine. I was the first person he told about liking boys instead of girls. I’ve watched him grow and learn and fall in love. And now Altair is part of our family, too.”

pairo and kurapika's lives as brothers were amazing. dino hunter is a reference to the book they both read in the manga that led to kurapika wanting to leave the kurta and explore the world.

i also thought that writing fit pairo well because it's a pretty accessible career for his eyes. he could type, he could enhance the screen and font when he needed, and he could do talk-to-type. one day i want to write a side-story of when pairo and altair met, because i have it perfectly formulated in my head and it's adorable.

Kurapika took a deep breath, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear. He confessed, “To be perfectly honest, I was scared when Pairo asked me to do this, because I’ve run out of things to teach him. He’s run on ahead of me in life. Settled down, moved in with his boyfriend – now husband, congratulations on that by the way – and gotten married, while I’m perpetually single and living alone in my loft apartment with an absolutely spoiled monster of a cat. Stop laughing, that wasn’t supposed to be a joke.”

emperor the cat was also not intended to be a character. i came up with him like, right before i started writing the chapter.

i think it was hard for kurapika to watch his brother fall in love and move on ahead in life. even if he was genuinely happy for them both. i had a conversation with a coworker a few months ago where we both talked about how we feel like we are "behind," even though we're both very accomplished. she felt like she was "behind" because i have a master's degree; i felt like i was "behind" because she was happily married and already had a child on the way (who is here and beautiful and perfect). and i imagine kurapika wondered if he was falling behind or missing something when he saw his brother succeed in love and business without really trying.

but there's no competition at all, of course. the world spins on, and we grow and change and find our place in our own time. there's no race.

The room quieted again. Kurapika went on, his eyes flicking over the crowd. He was starting to smile, too, now.

he's starting to realize this is okay, he's not going to mess up, he may actually have something worthwhile to say or share. he's getting more comfortable in all this.

“But I’m also a wedding planner – I know, ironic – and I’ve learned a lot about love from my clients. So if you’ll indulge me, I’d like to share some of those lessons now.”

No one from the back shouted at him to shut the fuck up, that he didn’t have a single clue what he was talking about, so he thought he was safe to carry on.

how funny would that have been??? like, it would have been fucked-up and humiliating, but in any other situation?? hilarious. just killua looking like that dude in mean girls being like HE DOESN'T EVEN GO HERE except it's like HE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW WHAT LOVE IS.

He thought back to Light of My Life’s various couples, musing over their own rocky paths to the altar and the beautiful, fractured glimpses into their lives they gifted Kurapika and his team. What did they teach him? What did they teach his heart, that terrifying, terrified lump of meat frantically beating in his chest?

More than you think, his heart seemed to be telling him. Trust me; I will guide you through this. Trust me, trust me, trust me.

*"listen to your heart" plays in the background*

also like. trusting oneself and your perceptions and your feelings and your heart is so necessary. it's an important part of healing. and being honest with yourself and your feelings is part of a foundation for all healthy relationships, i think.

also i really like writing alliteratively. the play on words with "terrifying, terrified" was. inspired? terrifying, because kurapika for a long time feared his own heart and feelings, viewing them as a loss of control; and terrified, because his heart is afraid, too. and they are taking this leap together!

And Kurapika explained: “Love isn’t just found in eloquent professions or grand, romantic gestures. It’s supporting each other through your lowest, worst moments and coming out the other side stronger for it. It’s standing together, hand in hand, against the world. It’s in looking at someone simply existing in the world and seeing them as they are: good, beautiful, strong, intelligent, kind. It’s in your communication and your foundation and trusting that all good things will come together in time. It’s in the family that you build together. It’s in the work you each put in to get through the hard times. Together.”

me: yeah uh-huh jj you really did summarize the fic so far.

this is also where i started being sappy and thinking about love. friendly and romantic love. the love i've seen in my friends, the love i feel myself in my relationships.

There. That’s what his clients taught him. Menchi and Buhara; Morena and Theta; Pokkle and Ponzu; Knov and Morel; Knuckle and Shoot; Canary and Amane. But so many more people showed him what love was. He pictured Pairo and Altair on his couch, laughing at him and judging him and helping him put his own puzzle-piece heart together into something cohesive and beautiful. He smiled at his brothers and saw the way they were clutching each others hands, mouths beaming and eyes dewy.

they LOVE their brother so MUCH. their view of the outside looking in for the past year, watching kurapika fall in love, go soft, be happier than they've ever seen him.

He told them, “It’s in the way you can communicate in gestures and looks, and sometimes, without looking at all. It’s in banter and private jokes and finishing each other’s sentences. It’s in casual touches and... pouring their coffee before your own.”

my coffee is never as good as when my partner makes it. my honey-lemon tea is never as good as it is when my partner makes it. my jokes are never as funny as they are when my partner and i finish each other's sentences, build off of each other's quips. we can communicate across rooms with nothing but a look. these little signs of love are everywhere and expressed in so many tiny ways. these examples here are between people in romantic relationships, but these apply to platonic friendships as well.

His eyes swept the room and found Killua and Gon. Gon had his camera hefted onto one shoulder, and Killua stood behind him, arms around his waist and chin on his shoulder. “It’s on the first day you wake up and realize the way you look at the world has changed. The way you open your hands and your heart and give what you have, simply for the joy of being received.”

to love? transcendent. to be loved? incandescent. to love and know that it is valued and cherished and requited?

and this was a callback to killua talking about, of course, how he fell in love with gon like melting ice. like sinking into a bath. and this was also a quieter callback to how gon fell in love. because it wasn't just that he had/has so much love to give, but because for the first time in his life, he got to see it truly received. accepted.

Kurapika saw Killua’s breath catch and Gon’s hand flex over the fingers interlaced over his middle. Heedless of their surroundings and of the running camera, Gon twisted to kiss Killua on the mouth.

SMOOCHES ahahaha!

He turned his head back to Leorio. The man had not moved; indeed, he looked like he was nailed to the floor. His eyes were so intense as they watched him that Kurapika was almost surprised he had not yet burst into flame. Kurapika said, “It’s in the moment you see someone you’ve never met before, but you look at them and just know, to your core, that this is really going to be something.”

leorio realizing something is happening here. something huge is about to happen, is about to change. and he's trying so hard not to dare to hope it might be good. it might be everything.

A chorus of oohs went around the room. Even from this distance Kurapika saw the way Leorio’s face went red, and he ducked his chin, looking bashful and embarrassed.

leorio: holy shit holy shit holy SHIT IT'S HAPPENINGGGG

How was I such a fool before, Kurapika wondered, How was I so blind, so willfully ignorant and oblivious. How did it take me so long to realize you were talking about me. I’m sorry it took me so long to get here. I’m sorry I made you wait for so long.

this is important because it's not just kurapika realizing and accepting his feelings for leorio. this is kurapika's version of realizing that leorio feels the same for him. leorio is in love with him, too. and he's wondering how it was possible he was so scared and blind for so long. he fears he may have hurt leorio by holding off on this for so long, so he wants to be brave, take the leap, and see what they could be.

Kurapika did not want this man to wait another second. He did not want Leorio to spend another moment trapped in this limbo. So he confessed in the middle of a silent room in front of over a hundred people, “It's the first time you hear them laugh, and your entire world’s axis shifts beneath your feet.”

i remember the first time i met my partner. i remember the first time i looked at them and felt my world shift a little to the right. i remember falling in love and thinking that this one was unlike all the others. it was warm, golden, comforting.

Kurapika watched the confused frown on Leorio’s face when he heard that, amused by the almost puppyish tilt to his head as he considered it. He knew the moment Leorio realized what he meant when his eyes blew wide, amazed and awed and achingly soft. His lips parted.

gOD he is so CUTE. he's like oh hmm huh what does that mean

and then he remembers

i promise, he's not a huge dickwad!

and leorio laughing at gon's accidental gaffe and his sweet earnestness. and kurapika walking in. leorio realizing kurapika wanted to know him before they ever even met.

Kurapika made himself turn away from the arresting sight. “One of my favorite venues lately was the Roseview Ballroom downtown. Among its many beautiful, gaudy attractions are its murals depicting scenes from Shakespeare’s plays all across the ceiling. One is a famous quote from Twelfth Night: ‘journeys end in lovers meeting, every wise man’s son doth know.’ But the more I think about it, the less I agree.”

i'm such a WHORE for shakespeare, as any readers of mine will know. check out my modern college adaptation of much ado about nothing.

He turned to meet Pairo’s eyes again, repeating, “‘Journeys end in lovers meeting.’ But nothing is ending here. It’s just changing.”

life does not end when we start relationships! or when they end! or when we move, change jobs, graduate, go to school, drop out of school. happy endings in stories still aren't endings. the greatest constant in life is change.

“Because what I’ve learned in this job, Pairo and Altair, what nugget of wisdom I have to give you, is this. Love is looking at a world that can be terrifying, cold, capricious, and indifferent, and finding the person whose hand you want to hold through it all anyway. Because you want every laugh, every tear, every wrinkle, every spark of joy. Love is life’s greatest leap of faith, because you don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow. But you know exactly who you want to spend all those tomorrows with.”

me finishing this: dammit i just wrote out my wedding vows.

Kurapika looked around the room again. At Gon and Killua; at Kalluto, Nanika, and Alluka; at his parents; at his brothers. At Leorio.

He concluded, “So you simply breathe. And you trust it will be okay.”

There wasn’t a dry eye in the room when Kurapika dropped the microphone.

DAMN ME TOO THIS SHIT WAS GOOD TF?????? sorry my writing has peaked here.

[antarestyl]

Got not tagged but saw this meme and wanted to do it :D

I tag @namekian-maoh and whoever else wanna try!

How many works do you have on AO3?

56 so far.

What’s your total AO3 word count?

600021 at this moment... damnit, I like nice and round numbers more XD

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

29 XD well, some are crossover and some are almost-the-same (especially with Video games where I often take multiple entires in a series into account and tag them accordingly)

As for my fandoms:

Video games: Amnesia: The Dark Descent, Among Us, Bowser's Fury, Deltarune, Don't Starve, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Final Fantasy XV, Luigi's Mansion, Mario & Luigi RPG, Monkey Island, Pikmin, Pocket Monsters | Pokemon, Super Mario & Related Fandoms, Super Mario Bros, Super Mario Odyssey, Super Paper Mario, Undertale, (+ AU of Undertale)

Comic/Cartoon/Manga/Anime: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters, Yu-Gi-Oh! (All Media Types), Homestuck, Gravity Falls, DCU (Comics), Booster Gold (Comics),  Blue Beetle (Comics)

Books/Movies/Divers: Harry Potter, Mystery Skulls Animated, Olsen-banden | The Olsen Gang (Movies), Ties of Lapis (Skyrim-AU),

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. PTA Sans and other glorious things       

73016 words, 3192 Kudos, so far my most successful work XD It’s still ongoing. Undertale Fanfic, Monster-on-the-Surface, True Pacifist Ending, PTA AU, SansxToriel in the Background, everybody is here, mostly happy, silly and only a small dose of angst from time to time. Later chapters with more story.

2. TrioBlasterSets AU - Six puppys and 3 flames                 

270813 word, 758 Kudos. I write this AU together with @namekian-maoh . Still ongoing. Undertale Baby-Blaster AU with some Underfell and Underswap thrown into it. Dadby, Badster, mostly family fluff and dealing with the experiment!gaster-blaster Background of 3 skeleton children. Also 3 flames who take care of them that have way more drama going on themselves than nessessary. Chapters are not in chronological order. Has a few Spin-offs too (including some NSFW oneshorts about the flames and their relationship ;) )

3. So I won't regret another day 

19214 words, 320 Kudos. Undertale Underfell AU, Underfell Sansby with some healthy relationships, the planning of a revolt against an insane king, monster still being monster and not really made for violence in an violent setting. If officially finished but I write new chapters when the fancy strikes me.

4. Grillby's                 

9894 words, 265 Kudos. Deltarune/Undertale fanfic with a Spin, named Plushyrune (aka Deltarune where eveything is the same, just with Sansby and Sans makes plushies). Started as just pure silly fluff, kinda got a plot now about the kids of Deltarune. Still ongoing, new chapter is 80% done ;)

5. Something old, something new... 

6579 words, 208 Kudos. Pure Post-Pacifist Surface Sansby fluff. Mostly from Grillby’s POV how they fall in love and be silly and in love. Still ongoing, haven’t really had to mojo to write more for it lately, but I WILL return at some point.

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I try to! I used to not comment on comments because I had this irrational feeling of “cheating the numbers” if I reply to comments but... screw that, I want to interact with people! So I try to answer any and all comments now :)

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Ufff, for me it’s a tie between The last chip  and Laughter in the Darkness. The Last Chip is a Yu-gi-Oh! Fanfic in a series of Kaiba spiraling downwards after the Manga/Anime ended and sets up the events of Dark Site of Dimensions. It ends pretty much with Kaiba ending up getting borderline suicidal in his Obsession with the Pharaoh.

Laughter in the Darkness is the Epilog I wrote for my Gravity Falls x Amnesia Crossover where Ford is pretty much an Amnesia-Protagonist and archives the very worst ending for himself. Mind the tags if you read this. It ends with Ford at the lowest possible point for himself and its open ended if he is going fully insane or if Bill Chiper really is still around. (and it’s not clear what outcome is the better one)

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Nah, not really. I am a chill writer in my own little corners of the fandom and most people leave me alone. I did get one “But Queer is a SLUR” comment way back in the day where it was still all “????” to say that out loud. But otherwise? Nah. I am not important enough for hate, lol.

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

I have XD Not much thou. I wrote so far an mastubation scene with the one going down on himself heavily NOT BEING ALRIGHT while doing so XD Other than that I have 2 NSFW Undertale fics with some hot flame-on-flame action. I do like writing not-standard-sex (as in Sex that doesn’t requite human genitila) Otherwise I like to hint or describe feelings more than the act itself. More lime than lemon ;)

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of. As I said, I am not important enough for that.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

I had some ppl asking for permission to translate (which of course) but as far as I know there are no translations out there as of yet.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yeah, I am writing the TrioBlasterSet AU with @namekian-maoh I did Co-write some fics way back during my fanfiction.de time too but that’s a long time ago.

What’s your all time favorite ship?

I ship a lot and am a dirty multishipper XD I have to many ships to really call one out as my favorite.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

TrioBlasterSets AU because there is always MORE to tell with this AU XD

What are your writing strengths?

I am the Queen of Worldbuilding and Crossovers baby!

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Only do it if you have a REALLY good reason for it AND if you have a good gasp on the language. Like, nothing takes me out of a fic faster than reading stuff in horrible German written by people who were to lazy to just copy/paste the word from google translate (my time in the Apollo Justice fandom has seriously scared me. It’s Fräulein, not Fraulein or Fraülein! Also you can’t just swap ei and ie around THOSE ARE DIFFERENT SOUNDS! als we have the letter ß it’s a shap s sound you can’t just use/not use it as you please!)

Also in 90% of all cases it’s just not nessessary. Write what you wanna write, TELL us it was said in a different language OR let the POV character just tell us their hear something said in an other language they couldn’t understand.

What I want to say is: Have some respect of the language you want to use!

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What was the first fandom you ever wrote for?

I THINK it was Harry Potter? IDK I wrote a cringy Star Trek Parodie when I was like 14 or so and those OCs went through a lot from that time on forward but Idk if that even counts XD

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What’s your favorite fic you’ve ever written?

The Game of Our Life It’s a series of Mario x Homestuck Fics I wrote before Undertale came along and swept me away XD I love all my fics of course but this one was the first really big one I finished on english and it was the one I am most proud of of the world-building. It has angst, it has lore, my writing style was just really developing there and I am just proud of it. (Also it’s very self-indulging so yeah XD love it a LOT)

[i-need-entertainment]

Adriah Thomas + “Can’t take my eyes off of you”

This is the 9th Oneshot for the Valentines Day Event, thank you so much for requesting!

**Also, um, other than his name and height I kinda made up the other stuffs**

Character: Adriah Thomas x reader

TW- Blood (bloody nose)

“So, Omi, when ya gonna finally ask out the cute receptionist~” Sakusa grimaced as he glared towards Atsumu, the entire interaction drawing the attention of the rest of the MSBY team as they got cleaned up in the locker room after practice. “...Soon..so don’t get any ideas.” Atsumu acted offended, “Who do you take me for? A complete scumbag?!” Sakusa turned away, deciding today would not be the day to provoke the blond. “I mean, he’s got a point, you have flirted with most of the girls who work here.” 

Atsumu waved his hand in the air dismissively, “Yeah, yeah ANYways, how ‘bout you Hinata, find anyone yer interested in?” Hinata shook his head, “Not really, i’m kinda just focusing on volleyball right now.” Atsumu looked surprised, “Really? No one? What about the other receptionist?” Inunaki shook his head, “She’s got a boyfriend.” Atsumu continued to think, trying to come up with someone, “Oh! What about that one girl...uh...L/n, right?” 

The older members of the team went silent, “Definitely not,” Well, most of the older members went silent. Inunaki smirked as he pointed his thumb towards his other, much taller companion. “That’s Adriah’s girl.”The middle blocker turned away and finished getting ready with the hollers and shouts of his teammates in the background. “waIT, I didn’t know they were datin’!” Inunaki’s face turned to one of frustration, “They’re not, this guy,” He once again pointed to Adriah, “Won’t work up the nerve to tell her!” 

Adriah sighed as he grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder, sending an unimpressed look towards his teammates. “You know why I can’t do that....” Shaking his head, he waved to his teammates, exiting the locker rooms and heading towards his car. Adriah had liked you for 2 years, aka the 2 years you had worked with the jackals. But there was one reason he couldn’t tell you how he felt. Because almost every time he tried to talk to you or was in your presence, he ended up making a near fool of himself. 

Well- it was never really his fault, things just tended to happen. Like how the first time the team had met you, and he tripped on his own feet. Or when you had come in to collect something from the coach, caushing Adriah to take one of Bokuto’s spikes to his face, or- *THUNK* 

Adriah cringed as he grabbed his face, stumbling back a few feet as he tried to grasp what had just happened. He heard a loud gasp and the sound of feet quickly coming towards him, “Oh my gosh, i’m so sorry are you okay?!?” Opening his eyes he was met with you. He put on a smile and said a quick, “Don’t worry about it!” Your face turned to one of concern. 

Adriah, having felt some weird moisture on his palm brought his hand away, widening his eyes as he saw blood. You felt the air get knocked out of you as soon as you saw it, you gently grabbed his arm as you led him towards the infirmary. You sat him down on the exam table, giving him a wad of tissues and having him pinch his nose, sitting upright. Fortunately (for both of you) you were the team’s medic, so you were pretty used to dealing with things like this; bloody noses especially. 

“I am so, so sorry. I didn’t expect anyone to be in the hallway!” He shook his head with a smile, “It’s fine...I wasn’t paying attention anyways.” You looked at him with a small smile, “Well, i’m still sorry, I hit you pretty hard so I’m going to check for a concussion, okay?” He just slowly nodded, his head was starting to hurt... You stood in front of him, still having to look up because even sitting down he was still much taller (he is 6′7 for those who don’t know). 

“Okay, I’m going to ask you some questions, please answer them honestly alright?” He slowly nodded again. “What is your name?” “Adriah Thomas” “Do you know where you are?” He nodded, “The, uh, the...MSBY Black Jackals.” “Good, okay, i’m going to check your eyes, make sure your pupils aren’t dilated...” You gently held his face with one hand, using the other to move a single finger side to side, making sure he could follow it. “Well, they are a little dilated, and your movements are a little slow...but you also had practice today, okay one more test.” 

You stepped away, Adriah already missing the comfort he felt from your touch. “Last question I promise! Tell me some things about yourself, favorite color, how many siblings you have, some things you like...” He cleared his throat, briefly closing his eyes and thinking. “My favorite color is yellow....I have An older brother and an older sister..” He paused to think, his movements getting a little more sloppy and uncontrolled. “A-and I like...well I like you..” 

Your eyes widened as your breath caught in your throat. “U-uhm..come- come again?” He sighed happily leaning his head back against the wall, “I like you, but not as a friend, I like like you...You’re very kind, and pretty and- and you have the nicest smile...Honestly, I can’t take my eyes off you...I haven’t been able to since...well since you started working here...” You noticed his eyes started to droop and he started to sway a bit. 

Losing consciousness he fell forward, you luckily catching him before he could fall to the floor. You gently laid him down on the bed, checking his vitals and what not, he was just napping. You sighed as you stepped back, trying to calm your racing heart and regain your breath. Adriah Thomas liked you...He actually liked you back. Whereas Adriah thought he had been making a fool of himself, you had been slowly but surely falling for his sweet, outgoing and downright adorable personality. 

Shaking your head with a small smile you walked back to sit at your desk, figuring it’d be a good idea to get some paperwork done. “Hey L/n, you seen Ad-” Inunaki paused his sentence at seeing his friend asleep on the exam table. He made a face of understanding, “So that’s why there was blood on the door...what happened.” You hid your face in your hands out of embarrassment. “...I hit him with the door...” Inunaki’s eyes widened before he burst out laughing, quieting down a bit when you threw a pen at him, telling him to be quiet. 

Pulling him into the hallway, you explained what had happened. “wAit...so you hit him with the door..” You nodded, “And he confessed....” You nodded, feeling a certain heat creep up your neck. “...then he passed out...” You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Did you at least say it back?” You narrowed your eyes at him, “No, he passed out before I could say anything...” You both paused at the sound of a groan, then footsteps moving towards the infirmary room door. 

Inunaki smirked, pushing you towards the door before he skipped away, teasingly saying a ‘this is your chance~ don’t screw up!’ before he disappeared around the corner. Taking a deep breath you opened the door, gently guiding a still woozy Adriah towards the bed so he could sit down again. “So...” He looked at you, “..Your favorite color is yellow huh?” 

His eyes widened. He now realized that the nightmare he had wasn’t a nightmare at all...he really had just confessed to the girl he liked right after getting hit by a door. He looked down, hand coming up to mess with his dark hair. “...you remember that...” You gave him a soft smile. 

“Listen, when you feel better...would you like to go out to coffee? I feel terrible for hitting you, but i’d really like to get to know you better...only if you want to.” A big smile came on his face as he nodded, “I’d like that...thank you...” You smiled, getting onto your tippy toes and very softly kissing his cheek, “It’s a date.”

“Pardon the way that I stare There's nothin' else to compare The sight of you leaves me weak, There are no words left to speak, But if you feel like I feel Please let me know that it's real, You're just too good to be true, Can't take my eyes off of you”