#this is. very clearly not canon box. i don't like them with the twist. not sorry and please don't be weird about that.

[microknifeyuri]

let me consult my associate on this

[actual-changeling]

I hope it turns out that Maggie is "just" a human. I hope it turns out that there is absolutely nothing supernatural or occult or celestial or whatnot about her, fuck, I hope it turns out it's NINA instead.

Fuck, I'm trying very hard not to be frustrated and upset, but I am. I am because it's been over a month and people are still taking Maggie's clearly neurodivergent, and more specifically autistic, behaviour and twist it into "oh look no normal human is like this she's so creepy she must be a demon or an angel" like are you LISTENING to yourselves?

YES she talks differently sometimes, yes she's emotional, yes she did ONE FUCKING SPELLING MISTAKE while she was literally sobbing her eyes out. People are like that, you know. People that don't drink and that didn't go to parties and don't socialize well exist. I'm that person.

I had absolutely ZERO thoughts about Maggie being a celestial because to me, she isn't weird. There is nothing off about her. She's like me, I felt SEEN, I felt recognized and acknowledged.

The worst part is that people LOVE headcanoning Muriel or Aziraphale or Crowley as autistic but as soon as it's not something people can either infantilize or twist into something else, they hate it. Muriel gets praised for the same traits that have people calling Maggie a villain.

Can we stop doing that? Can we stop taking people who are weird or visibly disabled or different and shoving them into the non-human box? Do you have any idea how dehumanizing that is for people who are like those characters?

We had canonically non-binary characters this season that are human, so why, and please fucking tell me WHY, is it impossible in your minds to have disabled humans around? Why does anyone slightly weird have to be a supernatural being?

Just because Maggie's behaviour isn't played off as a joke? Because she is allowed to be a middle-aged, lesbian autistic woman? Because you cannot infantilize her like you can with Muriel?

Please tell me because I don't fucking know.

[batbirdies]

I'd love to hear about Red Hood and Matches

Thank you, you bless me with this ask. I saved this one for last because this WIP means so much to me lmao. This is like, my next planned long fic at this point that im desperate to actually write but feel incredibly overwhelmed by because its not really like other stuff I've written.

The basic premise is that Matches Malone never existed before Jason died, he was a creation of Bruce's made to help him connect with the less fortunate and especially the homeless in Gotham after Jason died. So when Red Hood shows on the scene, he doesn't know who Matches is. Bruce uses this identity to try to get the scoop on Red Hood because the homeless and people in the drug trade etc are a lot more likely to talk to him than they are to Batman.

This puts Matches on Red Hoods radar. He starts feeling suspicious, thinking this Matches guy is maybe working for Black Mask. They have a number of confrontations, neither knowing who the other is. Eventually Bruce figures it out, but Jason still doesn't know. Thus follows Bruce trying desperately to figure out what happened to Jason, how he ended up here, like this, alive, obviously traumatized, clearly having spent time with the league of assassins, older, and so so angry.

My goal was to keep to comics canon as closely as possible within the limits of this obvious twist. I have done a lot of research trying to get my head wrapped around all the different comics events that happened right near each other, one after the other, including Block buster, followed shortly by Identity Crisis and Jack Drake's death, then War Games and Stephanie's death, then Under the Red Hood (and then after, Cass's "villain" arch). This fic would start up sticking pretty close to the events in UTRH, but I did stick to Tim being around at the manor instead of in Bludhaven (though he heads to sanfran to stay at Titan’s tower pretty early in the fic), and Cass is currently missing (ran away), being searched for by Bruce and Dick but with little hope of finding her if she doesn't want to be found.

every single one of Bruce's kid's is having an in process or building meltdown in this lmao, and he only has two hands ok.

I have a full 40k words of draft written up but if you're familiar with my writing you know that's not that much lmao. This fic would be a monster. Probably longer than clearly calm at 250k.

My "draft" is super rough so don't expect anything polished but please have a snippet of one of Matches and Red Hoods first encounters (snippet is 1200 ish words and it’s very rough don’t expect anything polished):

It’s on his way back to the safe house with the box of pizza in hand that red Hood shows.

He’s just walking down the sidewalk minding his business when a shiny red helmet catches his eye down an alleyway. Matches glances out of the corner of his eye, doesn’t look directly or slow down, and see’s him standing there with arms crossed.

He keeps going.

two alleys over the red helmet steps in front of him and they nearly collide chest to chest.

“Real funny,” Red hood’s mechanical voice hisses. “I know you saw me back there.”

“I try not to invite trouble if I can avoid it.”

Hood cocks his head to the side like he’s amused. “Interesting, I’d think butting in to a crime lord’s business was not the way to do that.”

“I wouldn’t say I’ve been butting in per se… just observing.”

“Right,” He doesn’t sound amused.

“What is it you needed from me?” Matches finally asks, glancing around them. the street is suddenly empty and Bruce isn’t surprised. Gothamites are smart, and potentially, Bruce realizes, this is what Red Hood was trying to avoid - scaring people off.

“Our man left the clinic early,” Hood growls.

Matches blinks, cursing internally but not letting it show.

“and what does that mean for you?”

“It means—“ and then he cuts off, rolling his shoulders and looking off to the side. “It means I don’t know if they guy’s ok.”

“Aaaaand—?”

“And — you have connections there. They know you. they let you see him before…”

“You want me to take you back?” Matches raises an eyebrow.

“…no,” Hood finally says, after some internal debate. “I want you to go check on him. Update me. You take me back in they won’t like it. Might not trust you as much anymore.”

Bruce schools his surprise. “Probably true… why’s this so important to you?”

“You ask a lot of questions for a guy who’s still on my shit list.”

Matches snorts, shuffles the pizza around and says, “Alright, I’ll go check on him. You expecting this to happen right this second or—“

Hood looks down at his pizza and says “let’s drop off your pizza first.” He says snidely.

So Hood wants to see his place. Alright. Nothing suspicious to see right that moment so Bruce nods his agreement and then they start walking down the sidewalk back towards his building.

And just like when he was driving him to the clinic it strikes him as vaguely humorous. Bruce holding a pizza, walking side by side with Red Hood the newest crime lord in the city, known for decapitation and having rules for his dealers, like they’re about to go share a pie together.

He could get information this way. It was the casual conversations when people put their guard down.

“You like Marino’s?” Matches asks, keeping his voice light.

Hood glances at the pizza and grunts. “I’m not familiar.”

“Oh you should check it out. They’ve been around for decades.”

“I’m not much on pizza.” He sounds sarcastic and Matches pretends to be shocked.

“What? You lactose intolerant or something?”

“Ha, no.” Is the flat reply.

“Well what then?” Matches prods, gauging that they have maybe five more minutes of walking before they reach his apartment building.

Hood is quiet for long enough that Matches thinks he won’t answer, either caught on to the casual draw for information or was not going to entertain the lax mood of the interaction. But then he says, “Nothing compares to Sartoni’s. I haven’t been to a place that I cared much for outside of them.”

“Didn’t they shut down?” Matches raises his eyebrows.

“Sure did, when I was twelve,” Hood admits, shaking his head. “Nothing’s ever come close since then.”

“I remember liking that place yeah,” Matches agrees. “Turned out to be a mob cover didn’t they?” Bruce was pretty sure he’d put the place out of business, Batman having arrested the member of the Maroni gang that normally ran it.

“Sure did. The fronts always have the best food,” the mechanized voice is almost wistful and Matches forces a casual laugh.

“Hey maybe you should open a restaurant.”

The helmet makes a shocked static noise and Buce thinks he might have snorted.

“Yeah, it’s on my list.”

They lapse into silence then, as the building comes into view a few block down. And then something pings in Bruce’s head, loud as can be.

“12 years old huh? That’s young to peak on pizza… “

Hood stiffens suddenly realizing the information he’s given away, and Bruce doesn’t have to think about it, the math is calculating in his head before he can stop it.

“Sartoni’s… they closed down in… what-“

“Doesn’t matter.” Hood snaps, hands clenching to fists at his sides, just above the two visible guns at his hips.

It was six years ago.. That case was six years ago.

Red Hood was 12 years old six years ago.

Bruce can’t quite wrap his head around it. Young, sure, eighteen was not even an adult, it was a teenager.

“Just get to your damn apartment.” Hood snaps, He’s angry now, because he knows that Matches could easily calculate his age if he only knew when Sartoni’s closed.

And he does.

Bruce’s mouth is dry, worn leather shoes heavy with each step. He reaches the apartment building and fumbles to enter a keycode on the main door with the pizza in his arms. Red Hood opens it for him and gestures in with a curt wave of his arm.

The hallway feels narrow, with hood just behind Matches all the way down.

“Hurry up,” Hood snaps when he nearly yanks the pizza out of his hands when they reach his apartment, so he can pull his keys out and unlock the door.

Hood makes no show of pretending not to look around. He sets the pizza on the rickety dining table and waltzes in, head turning back and forth as he walks through, checks the bathroom, the bedroom, the linen closet . Bruce will have to check for bugs later.

“This place is a shithole,” he says when he reenters the main room, arms crossed over his chest.

Matches watches him, the tension in his shoulders, the stiffness in his entire body, the shallow breathing.

“someone told me you were young, but I didn’t expect a—“

“shut the hell up.” Hood pounds across the linoleum of his kitchen floor and Matches backs up, Bruce is very aware that he’s unarmed and wearing nothing but a minimal padding under his shirt. and Bruce thinks, it’s true, it isn’t any kind of misdirect or joke, because the kid realizes he’s given the information away.

“christ, it’s true.” He backs into his front door with a bump as Hood edges even closer. “You’re just a damn kid.” He sounds as incredulous as he feels and Hood suddenly slams him against the door.

“I’m no kid,” he snarls, the words becoming mangled through the distorter, as his forearm shoves roughly over Bruce’s throat.

“Yeah, real mature of you.” Matches chokes out.

“You’ll watch your damn mouth, if you know what’s good for you.”

Matches doesn’t speak then, just levels the shiny, impassive helmet with a long stare. Hood’s chest rises and falls rapidly, and then abruptly he steps back, removing his arm from Match’s throat.

“If you tell a soul, I’ll kill you.” His voice is much steadier when he says it, but Bruce can see the way he shakes out his shoulders subtly, the careful readjusting of his posture.

“Like they’d believe me anyway,” Matches says as he rubs at his throat.

Hood scoffs behind the helmet and moves toward the door.

“Let’s just get going.”

—

Honestly there’s so many little bits of this one I’m already excited about I might post more snippets lmao

[thesnazzysharky]

Hot take: Monster 3 is a decent character

Out of all the creatures in this game, Babcube seems to get the least amount of attention and seems to be widely disliked. I do get it to some extent, it's not my most favorite character, but to the point of disliking it? Nah. Firstly, I've seen some claim that there's nothing to the creature itself in terms of background or lore, which isn't true. Its purpose seems to be representing some kind of symbolism. "Old Experiments" is the title of the ambience that plays in the area that Monster 3 resides in and is also the ambience that plays when Monster 3 chases you in Endless Mode (albeit only in the og version of sjsm). Simply going off the name and the fact that it's associated with Monster 3 gives some disturbing implications. That being, at some point amidst the chaos that Ghost Cow was causing in the hospital, a literal infant (or possibly multiple infants) were involved in some way. Infants that were involved in some twisted experiments that somehow birthed the creation of... that (do remember that this is the same game that directly references Unit 731).

Either Monster 3 is supposed to be that infant or infants merged into one or Monster 3 could be a paranormal manifestation of the pain those infants went through. The pain of being trapped down below in the hospital, which is represented through the box containing the baby head, and eventually succumbing to whatever experiments were performed by the possessed staff. That is what Babcube symbolizes. Some extremely fucked up shit was happening down there (which was already made pretty evident by Monster 4, the Hanged Man). It might not be much, but the implications are definitely there. That's kinda the point of the monsters and is what separates them from the specimens. The DLC tells you jack shit about its creatures. Leaving things up entirely to your own interpretation and speculation. Karamari Hospital is all about its mystery. It's why, although pretty funny, I'm not a big fan of Wambu's "How a body got the bag" story apparently becoming Monster 2's canon backstory. It feels like it misses the point of Monster 2 and Karamari Hospital as a whole. But that's just my take. Secondly, its design. It's very simple. An infant's head in a rusty cube. Yet it still manages to be unnerving and bizarre. Frankly the most bizarre creature in this whole entire game in my opinion.

"Well that's just weird" isn't the only aspect to its design however. It's just very unnatural and uncanny in general. The way it glitches in and out of existence as it slowly moves towards you. The way the head itself clearly resembles that of an infant, yet it subtly doesn't 100% look like one, with the closed eyes, wrinkled face, and unnatural looking mouth and nose, making it strike the uncanny valley. With the face looking even worse when it randomly distorts.

And the sounds... dear god I fucking hate the sounds this thing makes. Similar to how the face resembles an infants, the sounds from Babcube resembles the crying and wailing of an infant, but there's that uncanny valley again. It sounds like a crying infant... but not fully. Its crying sounds muted and croaky. Not loud like a regular infant, but definitely odd and strange. Combine all of this together and you get a creatures that's disturbing to ponder about, unnerving to look at, and uncomfortable to listen to or even be around. A creature that feels like it shouldn't exist, yet it does. A creature that really makes my skin crawl. Not in a downright scared or horrified way, but in a "what the fuck am I even looking at or hearing" kind of way. A creature that I just feel really bad for and wonder what happened to birth it.

Like I said, it's not my most favorite character, but I don't dislike it either and I appreciate what they add to the game and the atmosphere of the hidden basement. I don't dislike or think any of the enemies in sjsm are bad in fact. Some are weaker than others, but I think they all add a little bit of flavor that makes this game so enjoyable and cool to me.

[skriblee-ksk]

Introduction Post!!!

Heyo!! I'm Skriblee, but call me Kris! I like art, writing, and OCs!!

I only post about my favs tho tbh;; Ah. I’m also @kathxrat-01’s biggest fan. you cannot compete.

INFO! I like talking about my silly little OCs and I Can See Your Death (Manhwa on Tapas!!). Basic DNI criteria (like proshippers, racist, anti-LGBTQ+, and etc). I am 17 and aroace so I may selectively interact with certain stuff (ex: suggestive posts)!! I'm pretty shy, but feel free to interact and/or tag me!

Things I may post/reblog: Twisted Wonderland (#twst stuff), Project Sekai, Webtoons/Manhwas (especially OIs), AroAce-related things, Art Tips I NEED, and any OC stuff (#skribleeoc)!!! I appreciate any and all reblogs!!! I don't know how to respond to them individually, but I appreciate it nonetheless!!!

NOTES! You should read this byi. Perchance.

I reblog OC x Canon, Yumeships, and occasionally Canon x Canon, but I AM a multishipper, so you may see the same character being shipped with multiple ppl. Be aware non-sharing yumes and OTP havers!! You can block me as you need!!

I super fixated on Jack Howl rn!! I do draw Kiyuu (OC [not S/I]) x Jack!! I love seeing content of him so feel free to tag me on all things Jack Howl!! Please do actually, I insist. I need to see more of him. Doesn’t matter if it’s about a ship including him or just fanart or a fic or whatever!!!

I don’t talk about politics on this blog, but I’m very clearly Pro-Palestine!! If you feel uncomfortable with my views, feel free to block me.

Tags: #skribleerandomz for random stuff (usually text posts) and #skribleedoodlz for my art!! My lovely, lovely mutuals' things are under #moot stuff <3

Comms open all the time btw!! Check carrd for deets!!! 🇵🇸 And: if you send proof of you sending ANY money to any vetted Palestinian GoFundMe, I will draw for you no matter when you did it SO IF U DID REDEEM UR FREE ART HERE!!! (SKEB/SURPRISE ME STYLE)

Art trades also open! I like seeings asks in boxes so send them in whenever!!!

Links: Instagram, Carrd, and Artfight!

Masterlist of OCs below!

OC Ref List:

Twisted Wonderland:

Kiyuu (TWST Yuu OC)

Cynthia Rydell (RSA OC)

Adeline Ordelia (Heartslabyul OC)

Kalmia von Viradin (Pomefiore OC)

Kristal’s Magical World:

Kristal Eclipse II

That's it, I think?? Might be updated once I get used to stuff?? Thanks!!

[fishylife]

My diorama that I finished today 💞 It's a cherry blossom themed room. This kit that I purchased was a 'limited edition' that came with a special Nanci figurine.

Originally I was going to use popsicle sticks for the flooring but it got really tiring having to cut it with a knife. I tried coffee stir sticks instead as recommended online and found they were much easier to work with since I could simply cut them with scissors.

The lantern was the biggest struggle for me. I think the grade of glue I was using wasn't very good but anyway, I think the lantern was a little heavy so the light would ever so slightly lean to the right over time. What I ended up doing was gluing a paperclip wire on the back of the light pole. The wire glued on the back of the pole that's attached to the light bulb rests on the pole. From some angles I can very clearly see the paperclip wire but I've just come to accept it lol.

I wasn't really sure how to make the cherry blossom tree in an aesthetically pleasing way. I followed the manual but my tree didn't look very cool. I looked up some guides online and a lot of the commenters were saying just to twist the tree whichever way you want and I guess it turned out okay.

My favourite parts of the dioramas are probably the tassels and things that swing. There is a tassel on the lantern, the guqin/zither, and the fan. There's a swinging incense burner and I liked it so much that I put it on top of the pink shelf so it could be seen better. There are also some charms hung on the cherry blossom tree. The manual calls for three of them but I only ended up making two of them because I could only think of two places to hang them. I think they're really cute though.

I also really liked the fan. I thought it was really cute so I've included another picture of it before I glued it down. My mom said it reminded her of 鐵扇公主, Princess Iron Fan, the mother of the Red Child in Journey to the West. I don't know if this is canon, but in one of the Hong Kong adaptations, Princess Iron Fan would keep a small version of her fan under her tongue and when she needed to get into action she would retrieve the fan from under her tongue and it would grow big into her weapon.

There's an episode with the zither. So a zither has 7 strings, but the wooden piece has 8 notches. The manual showed that I should put all strings to one side and then draw dots on the side that was missing a string. So I just randomly picked a side. Later on I googled what guqins were like in real life and realized that all of them had dots on the same side. So I had to replace the string on the other side. Thankfully I had done this before I painted the dots on.

To my knowledge Nanci makes blind box figurines, but all versions of this kit will come with the same pink figurine.

[kitkatopinions]

You clearly missed the point I was making. Blacksun going to the dance together is still not a date because they could have gone together as friends and Neptune joined them right after as well. Not to mention Blake saved her first dance for Yang and Arkos kissing obviously shows attraction to each other, but again that’s through actions and not from them saying out loud that they are attracted to each other prior to that happening because by what you said previously, to you characters need to say out loud that they are attracted to a certain sex or say out loud that they like a certain sex in order for you to understand that they are attracted to them when not even Arkos and Blacksun did that in the show, which is why I mentioned previously about their actions showing their attraction and not always from them outwardly saying that they are

The lgbtq+ merch you mentioned has canon queer characters like Coco and May on them, but my point was pointing out how the one bumblebee jacket sold doesn’t give them much in comparison to the other things sold

Also sorry you don’t speak for all queer people in the lgbtq+ community, you only speak for yourself as someone in the lgbtq+ because again a ton of lgbtq+ people don’t have a problem with their relationship

I AM ONLY SPEAKING FOR MYSELF, YOU ARE JUST GETTING ANGRY THAT I DON'T THINK THE EXACT SAME THING AS YOU. YOU ARE THE PERSON COMING INTO MY ASK BOX REPEATEDLY TO TRY TO CONVINCE ME TO ACCEPT LESS THAN I WANT.

And nooooo, moron, I said that I needed explicit confirmation, not that the confirmation has to be verbal. More of you twisting my words and purposefully misunderstanding me. You're just trying to find some way out of admitting that the early RWBY years included more straight-ship canonization than RWBY has managed for queer characters in ten years, and honestly I couldn't care less at this point, just stop doing it in my ask box.

Sun asking Blake to accompany him to a prom-like dance and the writers specifically writing Sun to ask if they're going together (emphasis on the together clear) and Blake saying yes they are but she has plans to dance the first dance with someone else IS STILL IN FACT more confirmation than her and Yang going fucking clubbing with a group and having the writers specifically write other characters to wonder if it might possibly mean they're together and leaving it up in the air. If Yang had asked Blake if she wants to go out to a romantic setting with her and Blake coming and Yang asking if this meant they were going together and Blake saying 'yeah yes it does' it would've been confirmation. Them being like 'we're going out dancing with Team FNKI' and then other characters being like "think they're together?" "No, I don't think so" is not a confirmed date. And Blake and Sun aren't even the most explicit opposite-sex attraction which comes in the form of 1. Jaune chasing women, asking them out, having clear conversations with his friends about being head over heels for them, and then also 2. Pyrrha literally kissing him. If Blake and Yang had a kiss I would consider them canon. If Yang had gone on a date with another girl that wasn't Blake or asked out a different girl in the first couple of seasons instead of going to the dance by herself I'd have considered her a canon wlw person.

And you clearly don't know what I'm talking about when I say the pride shirts, but I wasn't referring to the latest pride collection, I was referring to previous Pride shirts they used to sell. Like... I'm being serious when I ask this: Are you a minor, or did you only very recently get into RWBY and have tunnel vision where you think that the only things that exist are in your general immediate perception?

And again, I know I'm not speaking for every queer person, I'm only speaking for myself. But you are actively sending me hate trying to convince me to just pretend that RWBY is on par with things like Steven Universe and the Owl House and other things like that and I just won't. Why do you need every queer person to view this show and this ship exactly as you do? As of right now, Blake and Yang in the year of our lord 2023 have about as much confirmation as a BBC show about a wizard and a prince that ended more than a decade ago did, and I think that's a poor showing, I want better. Stop trying to convince me that I must just be secretly bigoted against my own interests because of that. And again, answer all of my points in my post and also in this one too while you're at it or fucking disengage and just block me.

[never-mess-with-the-uchihas]

This is by some noice SasuSaku hater 🙃

"When Itachi finally opened up to Sasuke he brought their foreheads together, symbolising that all the distance and lies between them have finally come to rest and they're two brothers who love each other. Kishimoto made it VERY clear in the manga what the poke meant and also explained that the Clan symbol isn't as important as we think.

I have no idea whyyy he forgot about his own writing and made Sasuke poke his wife/daughter even though its meaning has already been established, and the more affectionate gesture(bringing foreheads together) has also been drawn?? Plus Sakura has plastered the Uchiha symbol ALL over her house, clothes even the goddamn lunch box lol. Sasuke himself doesn't even wear crest, but in his novel he asks Sakura to adorn the Uchiha crest in his proposal (COMPLETELY forgetting/disregarding Itachi)?? What was the point of giving the whole Uchiha crest explaination through Itachi then? A SasuSaku fan told me that in one of the Novel Sasuke thinks that his bond with Sakura is even stronger/unbreakable than his bond with Itachi? Wtf!? How can Sasuke compare ANYONE's bond with Itachi lmao. Heck I think as much as he loves Naruto as a bro, Sasuke still wouldn't put even him in the same pedestal as Itachi, but he's talking like that about Sakura?? How will you compare your Brother’s love to your Wife's love like it doesn't make sense!? Especially for Sasuke who loves and respects Itachi more than anyone else-? And we're supposed to eat that shit up? They are canon I know, but don't think the novels make any sense honestly

I don't understand the decisions these writers took regarding SasuSaku and their fans dance in happiness after reading all this too, completely ignoring the true meaning conveyed earlier in Shippudden. Whatever we have to accept it and move on I guess…"

Me:

Lol... Who the hell is this stupid ass person? XD

I highly doubt he/she has even read the manga or any of the novels, or even watched the series properly. Because more than 99% of this post is based on pure garbage 😂.

"How can Kishimoto forget that Forehead poke and Clan Symbol is a negative thing AND BLA BLA BLA"

Another one of those idiots who believes tha THEY KNOW THE SERIES AND THE CHARACTERS EVEN BETTER THAN THE FUCKING CREATER.

They completely choose to ignore that, Even till this day, Sasuke remembers Itachi's forehead pokes more than he remembers that forehead-to-forehead touch. I don't understand, How can these people expect Sasuke to JUST COMPLETELY FORGET A GESTURE THAT ITACHI HAD GIVEN HIM HIS ENTIRE LIFE ?

What Sasuke really remembers AGAIN AND AGAIN is Itachi's last words to him -

"I will love you Forever"

Not the forehead-to-forehead touch.

And what's their problem if Kishimoto has shown Sasuke to use Itachi's forehead poke as a positive gesture to his wife and daughter? Why can't these people just accept that Sasuke is finally happy, and MOVE ON WITH THEIR FUCKING LIVES.

"Plus Sakura has plastered the Uchiha symbol ALL over her house, clothes even the goddamn lunch box lol.

What is so "LOL" about Sakura having the Uchiha clan symbol in HER OWN HOUSE!?

It wasn't just Sakura, The ENTIRE UCHIHA CLAN USED TO HAVE THEIR SYMBOL PLASTERED ALL OVER THE HOUSE AND THE WALLS OF THE STREET. EVEN IN THE POLICE STATION, ALL OF THEIR CLOTHES, LUNCH BOXES.

SO, IS THIS PERSON GOING TO "LOL" THE ENTIRE UCHIHA CLAN, NOW?

"Sasuke himself doesn't even wear crest, but in his novel he asks Sakura to adorn the Uchiha crest in his proposal (COMPLETELY forgetting/disregarding Itachi)?? What was the point of giving the whole Uchiha crest explaination through Itachi then?"

Which novel is this person even talking about?? 😂😂

First, Sasuke doesn't wear his crest because HE IS ON S-RANKED TOP-SECRET UNDERCOVER MISSIONS MOST OF THE TIMES. NOT BECAUSE HE IS ASHAMED TO WEAR HIS FAMILY CREST.

And THERE IS NO SUCH NOVEL where Sasuke said any of these shit. And What Itachi actually meant was the "Unreasonable Pride" that people felt over a symbol and a clan. HE WAS ASKING TO LET GO OF THAT UNREASONABLE PRIDE, NOT THE LOVE FOR HIS CLAN. He never said that YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF YOUR OWN CLAN AND IT'S SYMBOL. People really need to use basic comprehensive skill to understand the actual meaning of the words. DON'T TWIST AND TURN HIS WORDS AND BLAME SASUKE FOR "DISREGARDING" ITACHI, when he did no such thing. EVER. STOP BULLSHITTING ABOUT SASUKE AND ITACHI JUST BECAUSE YOUR SHIP DIDN'T BECOME CANON.

"In one of the Novel Sasuke thinks that his bond with Sakura is even stronger/unbreakable than his bond with Itachi? Wtf!? How can Sasuke compare ANYONE's bond with Itachi Imao.... How will you compare your Brother's love to your Wife's love like it doesn't make sense!? Especially for Sasuke who loves and respects Itachi more than anyone else-? And we're supposed to eat that shit up? They are canon I know, but don't think the novels make any sense honestly I don't understand the decisions these writers took regarding SasuSaku and their fans dance in happiness after reading all this too"

WHICH NOVEL IS THIS PERSON EVEN TALKING ABOUT !? 😂

WHERE THE HELL ARE THESE PEOPLE EVEN BRINGING THESE SHIT FROM!?? THEIR LACK OF AWARENESS ABOUT THE ACTUAL FACTS IS STARTING TO MAKE MY HEAD HURT, TBH.

SASUKE HAS NEVER. I REPEAT NEVER. COMPARED HIS LOVE FOR ITACHI WITH ANY OTHER CHARACTER IN ANY OF THE NOVELS.

And No, We don't "dance with hapiness" after reading what you did, because what you have been reading was nothing but ultra mega Bullshit. 😂

READ THE ACTUAL NOVELS AND MANGA, AND REALLY WATCH THE SERIES BEFORE CLAIMING THAT THE AUTHORS ARE FORCING YOU TO "EAT THAT SHIT".

And Just stop BRINGING UP RANDOM FAKE STATEMENTS, just to prove that the Novels make the characters OOC.

"Whatever... We just have to accept it and move on I guess..."

Which You clearly weren't able to do. Considering the fact that it's been FUCKING 7 YEARS. And you are still going on and on.

[alvie-pines]

I hate the recent trend of trying to justify everything a character does just because they're your favorite. I know it's been a thing for forever but it really seems to be more uncommon than ever to be able to go "this is my favorite character. They're unreliable and they do a lot of awful shit but they are my favorite because of x, y, z."

Like I love characters that do messed up stuff and hurt a lot of people because they tend to be more narratively complex and interesting and real, but I never understand trying to twist the world around so that everything the character does is justified?

It seems fandom has such a black-and-white "this is the box you go in" mentality that can be really harmful when discussing complex characters? Like they just try to shove them in even when canon clearly contradicts?

Maybe I am jumping to too many conclusions—this is about your techno!crit posting and I have never dreamed an smp in my life—but it's just disappointing because it takes so much nuance out of discussions when you have to struggle to get people to admit their favorite has done anything wrong in their life ever.

oh my god vylad you're like a savior in my inbox

This is exactly what I mean about Techno & his apologists. And other dsmp apologists too! Dream & Phil stans are not free of guilt. (Ofc anyone can do this, but Dream, Techno, and Phil are the ones I see it with the most.)

It's especially foreign and frustrating for me, because I love when characters are wrong. I love when they're assholes and you can see why they're an asshole and delight in the mistakes they're making. It's why my favorite characters are George, Schlatt, and Quackity!

George is cold, detached, and repeatedly shown to not really care about his friends, or at least not act like it—he can't be bothered to show up for anyone, even while expecting people to give him free things or prop him up power-wise (thanks, Dream, for setting this precedent. now he's fucked up). He miserably sulks in the outer corners of the server, alone because of his own actions (or rather, inaction when his friends needed him). I LOVE this about him, I think it makes him fascinating and engaging. I never want it to change! Well, that's an exaggeration, but I don't want it to change quickly. I want him to stew in his mistakes and negative personality traits for a while, so that if he ever does improve, it will be much more satisfying after watching him act like an aloof prick all the time.

Schlatt is obvious. He had some serious problems—he was an alcoholic, rude all the time, abused his fiance (Quackity), etc. He has very realistic flaws that lots of us have seen in people we actually know. He died surrounded by people who hated him, in an anticlimactic way, having no chance to change. He ran out of time. He was a terrible person and then he died before that could change. It's sad, to me. Depressing. Even though I don't share any traits with him specifically, I do have negative traits, of course, and seeing a character die before improving is... well, motivating? Motivating to improve. Techno is not motivating to improve because firstly he is not improving nor does he want to, and secondly he is not in any danger of dying or having anything of importance taken from him.

Moving away from DSMP, this is also part of why I love Wirt (otgw). That kid is just full of flaws—realistic, mundane flaws, but painful ones nonetheless. He's dismissive of other people, self-depreciating, self-centered, avoids responsibility... and he only starts to turn against these traits at the end. Even then, he's not perfect, he just begins to fight against his negative traits because there's something more important than him at stake—his brother's life. I relate to his flaws and find his acceptance of responsibility for both himself and Greg super inspiring. This is the sort of character I love. This is the sort of character that I feel for.

Uh, where was I?

Oh, yeah. I just can't get behind this fandom movement to paint characters as Always So Very Good! (Unless it's c!Tommy because imo, his narrative place is basically a punching bag who doesn't deserve what's been done to him. He's an exception <3) Flawed characters are often BETTER.

When people try to explain away Techno's flaws or mistakes or kick under the rug things that he's done, its frustrating because if Techno were allowed to have flaws I would probably love him. If he were allowed to be hypocritical, self-centered, and self-justified, I would love to explore these traits. (And he has them in canon!) But his fans want to paint him as Good and Correct and that's frustrating to me because it makes him a really boring character that I want nothing to do with, and the justification itself is also something he does so it makes his character really frustrating too. Having to constantly prove that Techno is a bad person wastes energy that I could be using to enjoy a good villain, a good Fucked Up Evil Man.

[thesharondefenseleague]

mlm imo werent sexualized to the degree that wlw were in most canon media mostly because of the male gaze. Gay and Lesbian relationships or moments got very limited representation. One was probably more sympathetic but also heart breaking like say brokeback mountain. One was explicit but depicted as grotesque or twisted or perverted or immoral in some way. And the last version was the titillating version. In western media because of the assumed straight male gaze lesbians making out to titlate guys was a common thing like say in Jennifer's body. The equivalent of that with guys wasnt really that common not in western media. Not that wlw couldn't like that content but it was made to be fanservice for men .

So thats what I kind of mean by wlw were sexualized at least in western media. This equivalent with mlm in fandom never really existed they never made out for girls to find hot in the same way. It was never marketed like oh look hot guys making out. Fandom did that but not canon.

As for comic book men being sexualized kind of. There is definitely the unrealistic beauty standards but theres that debate of was it for the purpose of titillating women? Or a result of toxic masculinity putting this unattainable unsustainable goal for men. Maybe both? But both in comics and the movies they are based on the posing and clothing and moments with women get made to clearly sexualize them . It especially ovbious with comics with them twisting their bodies so their boobs and butts are jutting out. Or like movie moments like Bruce landing in Natasha's clevage. Or angles where you are staring down a female character's shirt or she has a boob window for some contrived reason. Or just reasons to give full page spreads of them in skimpy clothing.

Its rare men get depicted like this or posed like this. And when they do it often stands out because its not the norm. It's something unique. Not true with men. Even in form fitting spandex they are often posed and framed to make to make them look powerful or intelligent or to reveal things about their character.

Again not that men never get sexualized or that fanservice is always bad. Or that its not a concern that men are having these terrible body image issues. But just that for women for the sexualization its so pervasive and constant was my point.

Its just as bad in wlw in canon as it is for women in relationships with men in canon when it comes to that sexualization but i hear so much more about the problems about the wlw ship than the mlw ship. Like to use DC as a example i hear so much about how people sexualized or mishandle harleyivy but compared to that i hear very little about batcat in comparison even though Catwoman is often just as sexualized in that ship.

As for misogyny in shipping wars yes it definetly exists and is a problem as is racism and homophobia. But my issue is mostly that the problem isnt because the main popular ships are mlm. But so often I see the argument framed that way.

Like shipping wars existed between m/w ships and still do today. And they are still often pretty misogynistic towards the woman in the other ship. I don't even have to look at other fandoms I remember Steggy vs Starton getting real ugly.

Mysogny in fandom doesn't uniquely pop up when mlm are the more popular ship. Its often just as bad in fandoms where m/w is the popular ship. But people just bring it up alot more they make it bout valuing the men over the women .

Well i mean that goes both ways you could say its homophobic for valuing the straight ship as better than the gay one or liking it more. But either way its stupid they dont care bout sexism or homophobia only that their ship is more popular.

Thats the sentiment of all ship wars the gender dynamics and racial make up change nothing. Nothing except the bullshit you use for the ship war.

The problem is that people are being homophobic and mysogynistic and racist not just in regards to fictional characters but towards real people just to win a ship war. It comes out so easily. Thats the problem imo.

Mysogny for example i think isnt discussed as much when its a m/w vs m/w ship war or drama because as both ships have women it can't be used to slander the other ship. But when its drama between fans of a m/m and m/w it comes out alot again not because anyone really cares but because now because one ship lacks a woman it can be used as fodder for what people actually care about. Tearing down the other ship.

Again not that mlm fandom doesnt have mysogny. They definetly do. But they aren't mysogynistic because they ship two guys together. Thats not proof they hate women. Having a ship with women isnt proof that you aren't sexist towards women. There might be homophobia in fandoms of mlm ships and mysogny in fandoms of m/w ships.

But in the drama between a m/w and m/m ships that doesn't get brought up because no one cares if that problem can't be used to show that someone only doesn't ship your ship if they are bigoted against it. Who cares about misogyny if your ship is two guys? Who cares about homophobia if your ship is straight?

No one because they cared about the popularity of their ship not the actual issues.

Gonna under under the cut for length again.

This is a lot to read so I'm gonna respond paragraph by paragraph and hope for the best in terms of comprehension.

When it comes to media made about the LGBTQ+ community, you have to keep in mind when it was made, who made it, and who was it made for. And that it's been shown that straight women have had the same reactions to mlm content as straight men to wlw content. QaF was dumbfounded to find that the majority of their audience was straight women when the show's sex scenes were 95% between two or more men and yet that's what they ran with because hey, it got the views. The views of mlm and wlw content in the mainstream media before then was minimized, despite how fucked a lot of the other content could be. If by "most canon media" being directed at the male gaze being summer blockbusters, and more specifically comic book movies, then sure. If we step out of that box, then not really. The film examples you chose are interesting because BB is portrayed exactly how the author of the original short story wrote it which was meant to be heartbreaking since it was a tragic dramatic piece while JB has a woman who wrote and another woman who directed it while purposefully trying to allow to actress to have a level of sexuality without exploiting her as past directors have (also neither of the main characters are lesbians - one is bi, the other I think is straight but maybe questioning?).

The sexualization of wlw in modern western media is definitely a thing. I mean, the first Iron Man film has stewardesses on the private jet pole dancing if I remember correctly. It took until 2016 to stop sexualizing Scarlett in every movie: the changing scene in IM2, the lowered zipper in A1, the ass shot in Cap 2, the boob faceplant in AoU (in your third paragraph, but mentioning it here anyway). It's a joke that you know when a man directs a wlw indie film during the sex scenes. But the mlm equivalent did exist alongside it, and it's what kicked off the century.

Comics and their movies were always for men. The male bodies are male wish fulfilment for their physical appearance. The women are male wish fulfilment for their dream girls. Funnily enough, one of the least sexualized women in comics I've ever read is Sharon. She's rarely, if ever, drawn to be sexualized for the audience. I'm not even sure she's even been in those swimsuit issues Marvel did years ago. And it shows heavily that Marvel struggles to know how to appeal to women without being aggressively in your face about it. The best example of them appealing without pandering is WV, and the worst is the group shots the Russos did in IW and Endgame, especially the latter.

But the men get those poses in the movies too. Thor bathed shirtless for no reason in TDW. There's a scene in Endgame dedicated to talking about Steve's ass. Pratt in GotG. Rudd in Ant-Man. Most actors are expected to look good shirtless and put themselves through intense shit to look that way. So do the women, but they aren't doing it to have the glamor shots of their muscles. And the MCU is not the only film franchise like this. Most, if not all, franchises with majority or entirely male leads expects them all to look like bodybuilders. And I'm gonna take back that it's just for the male audience, because these bodies are meant to appeal to women who are intended to thirst for these actors too. They think these bodies is what will bring women to the theaters.

None of this will change, as you say, that women's sexualization is "constant and pervasive". The film industry is just a part of the larger whole of media. Television and advertising have a treatment of women that's beyond whatever you or I say because there are decades worth of shit to go through that would take dozens of essays worth of writing to fully divulge beyond "please stop it's gross".

Now DC is a whole other ballgame. They're pretty infamous for their artists' sexualization of heroines and villainesses. Harley, Ivy, and Selina are definitely pretty bad, but when I remember what I've seen drawn of Kara, Kori, or sometimes Barbara... But outside of one artist, I think Harley and Ivy as a couple have been drawn tamely. Can't say the same for Selina, because they just can't not draw every part of her body even when she's fully clothed.

I think it's hard not to talk about fandom misogyny outside of m/m ships because of how often popular m/m shippers have rooted their shipping into misogyny. And even with m/f ship wars, a lot of the time the "faulted" character is always the woman when majority of the time it's the man who sucks. I don't get why everyone is fighting for who should kiss Steve because Steve sucks and they'd be better off without him. But because Steve is the object of affection for our fave, we have to fight off everyone else.

Don't look at other fandoms for m/f ship wars. We don't appreciate how tame we were, even at our worst. I'm serious, I've seen so much worse.

I think why the topic of misogyny comes up more with m/m ships is because they follow a similar principle of the male characters being more developed in canon and fanon so it's who people gravitate towards.

There is definitely layers of homophobia in fandom, but there's many versions of how we see it. Homophobes who won't ship anything that's not m/f. Homophobes who ship m/m but won't support IRL rights. People who love m/m but abhor f/f, and vice-versa. The shippers who use them for personal fodder. But the sexism is more prevalent than the homophobia. And the racism way more than both combined.

And it does cause a lot of ammo, and much of it severely unjustified, in ship wars. Literally the bullshit I've seen pulled out of thin air to accuse Sharon of not being worthy because someone said she's a racist for [they literally had no reason just called her one because we said Sam and Sharon are friends because they are] and other nonsense.

The real world repercussions of the homophobia, the sexism, and the racism in fandom... there's just so much. Like we are all still people, and yet we decide because we hide behind screens to be antagonistic, and use homophobic, sexist, and racist shit to attack each other over ships just because we want to paint the other person as crazy, I guess? If you can't see that there are no enemies in ship wars and that the other side is still people, maybe you need to sit out and log off. It's baffling how often it still happens to people. Then it's no longer about ships, it's about who is an asshole.

I will say that Steve and Peggy vs Steve and Sharon is probably the only m/f ship war I've seen where misogyny is talked about. Is, not was, because it still is. Both sides call the others misogynistic. I don't think either side is, but you can see in individuals. Those who tweeted at a certain actress that she was a slut for kissing her costar certainly are though.

You are right that shipping m/m isn't inherently sexist. But tearing down women in those ships to prop up m/m has made me stop shipping certain characters altogether. People, seriously, we don't have to justify why we like them! We can just like them! And other characters can still exist! It's never been that deep.

And you're right, the popularity of the ship helps people ignore any deeper issues within them and this is a power used to silence valid criticism if it pops up.

(I hope I answered everything well for you.)

~Mod R

[lovelylogans]

love light gleams

previous chapter | chapter four | next chapter

part of the wyliwf verse.

the sideshire files | read my other fics | coffee?

warnings: food mentions, complicated parental relationships, teenage emancipation, emotional abuse, mentions of being disowned, mentions of transphobia and homophobia, classism, mentions of past underage drinking, crying, religious content (church, going to confession), remus cameo, mentions of choking/killing someone, something similar to the canon “have you thought about killing your brother?” monologue, please let me know if i’ve missed anything!

pairings: gen 

words: 57,686

notes: uh, this one’s heavy on the crying/angst/hurt comfort, folks, so tread carefully! take care of yourself!!

"you can just point," virgil says to logan, for the fifth time. "it's okay if you just... make any gesture ."

"um," patton says.

"he's going to pick which one it is," virgil says steadily, ignoring the fact that he's the last of the family who are picking a box from their pile. "i'm always last to pick anyway."

"it's true," says silas, "and why didn't i get to pick this year, again?"

"you'll like it, trust us," meredith says.

"yeah, but—"

"si," essie says, and she's the only one that patton's seen so far that gets no rebuttal for shortening his name, " trust us."

silas sighs, grumpy, and slouches over his (pretty sizeable) box.

"just one gesture," virgil wheedles to logan, adjusting him, and logan squalls in protest, throwing his pacifier. which happens to bounce off a purple box.

"you know what?" virgril says to logan, tilting his head. "joke's on you, i'm taking that as a choice, so there."

"i'll take him," patton says, amused, and he picks up logan's pacifier. "i'll meet you all upstairs, i'm just gonna rinse this off really quick."

they all nod, virgil picking up the carrier so that patton won't have to juggle it and an armful of baby, so patton makes a brief detour to the kitchen to wash and rinse off logan's pacifier. really, even with as clean as the diner is, it still touched the floor, so. 

patton ensures it's dry, before he makes an offer of it back to logan. apparently, since he's tossed it, he does not want it anymore, how dare you, and so patton takes a bit of time to walk around and get logan calm before he goes back upstairs, so that a fussy baby won't interrupt anything.

and, thank goodness, it seems like patton doesn't—mark is laughing, showing off one of the new aprons that was in the gift he chose, a mr. good lookin' is cooking one as freddie snorts to herself—so he settles in one of the chairs that's been pushed aside to make room for everyone in the middle of the room, the one next to where virgil's set down the baby carrier.

he carefully lowers logan into the carrier, holding his breath, and logan, thankfully, stays quiet. 

so patton curls up in the armchair and he watches the danes have family time. they open presents in an order that patton doesn't really get—freddie gets the latest book of world records, then essie gets some kitchen tools that make her go "ooh!" so it's not by age or anything—and it looks... really nice, honestly. all of them are clustered together in a messy kind of circle, watching as each person opens their gift of choice. so they go, and go, until—

"last but not least," mark prompts.

"finally," silas says, and begins tearing it open as he's talking. "i get to see why i couldn't pick and everyone else could," he's opening the top of the box, and patton notices everyone in the family grinning, "seriously, this better be..."

he trails off. he stares. his jaw drops, just a little, and patton watches as silas' eyes go wide, and a little shiny, and he seems to just get a little... softer.

"i," he says, falters, looks up and then back down at the present. "i—i don't—how did you even...?"

"well," meredith says, with a kind of benevolent, easy smile, and she reaches over to squeeze silas' arm and mark copies and they are so clearly being comforting or something to him, what is in that box?

and silas smiles, a real, genuine smile. it makes him look nice. it makes him look good. and for the first time all visit, patton notices how little silas has been smiling, or excited, and the glimpse of essie and silas on the mezzanine, and it hits him that... that maybe his problem was never really just with patton at all.

silas unearths it, and patton... well, patton doesn't know what he'd expected, really, but it's not what silas pulls out from the box. 

it's... a lego set. one of those big ones that make up a specific thing—patton can spy the millenium falcon, on the side, before silas wraps an arm around it, obscuring his view, but he's still smiling so much.

"i can't believe you got this for me," silas says.

"well, you begged for this, for years, and—" mark begins

"yeah, i," silas says, "i mean, it was—it was years ago, i never expected you to actually—"

"well, we promised, didn't we?" mark says, and simultaneously, silas ducks his head with a laugh, and patton feels like he's been punched in the stomach—

("—where were you?" patton asks. he's maybe seven, eight at oldest, and he's holding his skirt in his fist, tight, probably crumpling the material that his mother will yell at him for later, as if she has anything to do with the upkeep of their clothes, as if she won't just buy him a new one to dress him up in later.

"hm?" his dad asks, looking up from the papers, and patton clears his throat.

"where were you?" he repeats. "it was the school play today."

"oh," his father says absently. "was it?"

"you and mom promised you'd be there."

and neither of you showed up , he doesn't have to say. christopher's latest nanny dropping him off after a 'playdate' is enough evidence for that.

his father sighs, annoyed, and sets aside his papers. "your mother and i both had meetings, pumpkin, i couldn't very well skip it."

"but," patton says, floundering, unable to find words other than "but you promised."

"yes, well," his father says, "i'm sure there'll be another one. we can try and make the next one, darling, how about that?"

"but—" patton says, voice small, and his father nods, as if the whole situation is settled.

"why don't you run along, now? i have a lot to get finished, you know."

it's not a suggestion.

"okay," patton whispers, before he tries to swallow before he turns and runs out of his father's office, to fling himself upon his bed and sob, for no one to hear—)

a tiny voice in his head, with all the finality and gravity of the two paths of his future stretched out in front of him, says, i want logan to grow up with the kind of family that the danes' are.

and he does. he wants logan to grow up in a warm, loving family, with nicknames for each other, with him looking forward to spending time with his family, with christmas cookies and christmas movies and fights that always seem to get settled and don't leave him heart-achey and hurting for days at a time, with warm, happy time together that feels like it's out of a movie, with the kind of mystical warmth and christmas spirit that's easily within reach, with promises that always get fulfilled.

he wants logan to have that. he wants to be that for him. 

then, the voice continues, you can't get that with the family that you have, and patton can practically see the gilded gates back to his parents' house close, and it's almost anticlimactic, like there's been something in his heart that's known that was how his life was going to go as soon as he'd planted that note in logan's crib, and oh god, oh, god, he's going to be emancipated, he wants to be emancipated, he wants to make his own family and oh god oh god oh god oh god oh fuck—

what kind of person does that make him?!

and with that, as the whole danes family is entrenched in their happy moment with silas, patton stumbles blindly to his feet and staggers for the nearest escape he can manage—the mezzanine.

it's bitingly cold, but that's almost welcome as the wind nips at his cheeks and his nose and patton grabs for the wrought-iron railing so he doesn't fall to his knees, because his legs are shaking and he's shaking, so patton blindly grips tighter at the railing and feels the cold wind steal into him and it's almost welcoming as his stomach twists, full of nausea and self-hatred because what kind of person does that make him, what kind of person is he to throw aside his parents and run away and stay away and want a whole new family, what kind of horrible person is he to think about that on christmas eve, and so patton feels his fingers go numb and his nose get cold and there's tears on his face, he thinks, or maybe it's snowing and the cold is hitting his face and melting, he doesn't know, he just knows that it stings, and he deserves it, he deserves it he hasn't even missed them the closest he's come is to missing the apple tarts, the fucking pastry, patton has been missing pastry more than his own parents and they're never going to want to see him again they're never ever going to want to see him again and he's going to deserve it he deserves to stay out here and freeze and his parents would be right to never ever talk to him again and there's a click and a gust of warm air and a feminine voice saying "wondered where you" before falling off and patton lets out a hitching, terrible noise, and "oh, sweetheart" before the warm air goes away.

"i—all right, honey, is it okay if i touch you?"

patton manages a nod, and shudders as meredith pulls him into a hug; she's warm, and she only flinches a little when patton's cold nose makes contact with her skin, and she wraps him up in one arm, cradling his head with her other hand, and patton rests his head on her chest, forehead resting in the crook of her neck, pulled there, almost like a doll, because he's so busy crying, because it isn't snowing, he's been crying, that he can't really negotiate a hugging position.

"can you try to breathe with me, sweetheart?" she says.

and patton tries, he really, really does, except he can barely take in a breath like she is before it gusts out of him in sobs.

"i'm sorry, i'm s-sorry," he chokes out.

"it's all right, sweetheart, it's all right," she says. "you're trying, that's what matters. you're doing a good job."

he isn't, he's doing the opposite of a good job, he's doing a terrible job—

"okay. in again, here we go."

except patton keeps doing a terrible job, he can't even breathe right, how on earth is he supposed to manage a baby, he's going to emancipate himself and he can't even breathe it's pathetic he's pathetic and a terrible person and overemotional and stupid and too sensitive and he—

"patton," she says, and patton tries to gasp for breath.

"y—you don't have to stay," he sobs, in a sort of shuddering way, and she shushes him even as he continues, "i don't wanna r-ruin your christmas, you don't have—"

she shushes him again, and says, "you aren't ruining anything, sweetheart, you aren't ruining anything at all, we were just all saying goodbye when we noticed you hadn't been there for a while, that's all, you're all right—"

patton sobs again, and she brushes her hand through her hair, still breathing deep for him to try to copy.

another rush of warm air, and "patton," virgil says, hushed, concerned.

"could you make him some tea?" virgil's mother asks him.

"he hates tea," virgil retorts, without thinking, and patton nearly smiles. it's true. he does hate tea. he's kind of surprised that virgil's remembered that, though. nearly no one remembers the kinds of foods and drinks he likes and doesn't like.

"hot chocolate, then," meredith says, and there's a noise, and patton lifts his head, staring.

"logan—"

"i got him," virgil says. "i got him, don't worry, just—"

he leaves, and the door swings shut, and so patton doesn't really have much of a choice but to lie his head back onto meredith's shoulder and try to pull himself back together.

it turns out he gets exhausted more than anything else before he's capable of pulling himself together, meredith continually sweeping her hand through his hair. but he guesses that it must look like he's managed it well enough, because she draws back enough to look at him.

"are you all right?"

"logan," he mumbles, and she lets go of him. 

"we can check on him, if you'd like?"

he does. he really, really does. it's less of a he'd like to check on logan and more like he viscerally needs to check on logan. so she opens up the door for him and patton shuffles into the kitchen, looking around, and virgil glances up at him, logan in his arms.

"is he—?"

"yeah, he's good, just wanted some attention," virgil says. "we've just been kinda chilling. you want—?"

but patton's already reaching out to hold him before virgil can even finish the question, and logan makes an indignant sound of protest before he starts to settle again. patton takes some shaky breaths, holding on tight, staring down at his son.

i hope i'm making the right choice for you, patton thinks. but, again, there's that... there's that something in him. this is going to be hard, yes. this is going to suck a lot, yes. but he thinks... he thinks this is what's going to be best for logan. for them. he wants logan to grow up in this place where affection abounds, and everyone is so ready to reach out and help someone who needs it. he wants logan to grow up around the people in the inn. he wants logan to have a horde of honorary aunts and uncles and godparents. he wants logan to know virgil. he wants logan to know he has a loving family, even if it isn't his biological family, but the family they both choose.

he doesn't want logan to grow up expecting his dad to break promises.

patton leans down to press a kiss to logan's forehead, and logan makes a sleepy, content sound. well. at least one of them was easy to calm down, tonight. maybe they'll just swap off for the rest of time.

logan's forehead's very warm, and patton has a moment of panic, before he realizes that he's probably just freezing. he's spent god knows how long out on a balcony in the middle of winter, after all. 

there's a sound, ceramic against ceramic, and patton turns just a little to see virgil, managing to hold three mugs in his hands, before meredith sighs at him just a little and takes one.

"dramatic escape to bury myself and pretend that never happened isn't an option, is it," patton says wearily, and virgil huffs out a laugh.

"not really, but couch or kitchen is."

"um. couch, i guess."

patton moves to plunk the carrier on the coffee table, but virgil does it for him, and patton gives him a look before he sets logan down—he's pretty sure virgil's going to have him drink cocoa, so he needs free hands, and he'd probably feed him if it was any other day, but patton's still stuffed full of christmas dinner and three different kinds of pie.

and, true to form, virgil presses the biggest mug of cocoa into his hands, before he shakes out his throw blanket and wraps it around his shoulders. patton looks at him in surprise.

"it's cold," virgil says defensively, as he tucks him into it. 

"i guess," patton mumbles, and shifts where he's sitting, cradling the cocoa in his hands, letting the warmth seep into his palms. he keeps his eyes on it, too—much easier than meeting anyone else's eyes. god, way to make it all about you, patton.

"did we do something?" virgil asks hesitantly, and patton's neck just about cracks from how fast he looks up.

" no," he bursts out. "oh my goodness gracious, no, of course not, you guys have been great, i'm just—"

he chokes up, swallows, and gestures with the mug with a wordless kind of exhalation, and virgil and meredith nod like they understand. they're probably just being nice.

“logan cries all the time.” meredith says, suddenly.

“he’s a baby,” patton says miserably, pressing his fingers under his eyes to try and stop the tears from coming again. “that’s different.”

“is it?” meredith says. “when does he cry?”

something in patton shrinks. a question. and he’s going to get it wrong, because he gets everything wrong, because he’s an idiot, he’ll never be good for anything but—

“it’s not a trick question, i promise,” meredith says. “why does logan cry?”

patton bites at his lip, nervous, before he says timidly, “if he’s hungry.”

“good. when else?”

“um. if he needs to be changed, or—or if his colic’s acting up.”

“right,” meredith says. “babies cry when they need things.”

“are you saying i’m… a baby?”

“i’m saying that grown-up people—or teenage people—don’t change all that much from when they’re babies,” meredith says wryly. “would you get angry at logan for crying for something he needs? of course not.”

“but i shouldn’t,” patton says. “it’s—it’s christmas eve, you shouldn’t have to spend your christmas eve with me because i’m c-crying—”

“people cry, sometimes,” virgil says. 

“except i cry all the time now,” patton says wetly. “i’m s-sorry, this was st-st-stupid, i’m stupid, you sh-shouldn’t have to deal with me when i can’t stop crying, um, i’ll go—”

“ absolutely not,” virgil says, so firmly that it freezes patton from where he’d been about to stand. “this is not stupid, this is you reacting to something that is a seriously huge deal, okay? however you’re reacting, for however long, that is perfectly normal. okay? not bad, not strange, not stupid. ”

but i am , patton would say, but he can only look down at his hands in his lap and take in a shaky breath. 

"do you want to talk about it, sweetheart?" meredith asks, brow creased in concern.

"you don't have to, if you're uncomfortable," virgil says hastily, and he adds, "drink your cocoa, you look like you're freezing."

he takes a sip. unsurprisingly, it's delicious, creamy and rich and good, and so he takes another, deeper sip, and it's like it's warming him from the inside out. huh. turns out he is pretty cold. he ends up drinking about half of the cocoa in one go, then he cradles the mug in his hands again, staring.

well. this isn't when he'd wanted to tell virgil, but it isn't exactly when he'd wanted to have this realization and subsequent breakdown, either, so. patton's gonna have to take what he can get.

"i'm just," he repeats, and he hates how defeated his voice sounds.

"yeah?" virgil prompts softly.

"i—i haven't told you yet, but, um. maria put me in touch with a lawyer to maybe make the whole not-going-back-home thing, like. legal." he swallows. "permanent."

"oh," virgil says.

"yeah."

"i—when?"

"um," patton says, and wearily scrubs a hand across his face. "your birthday? i think that's when i got the—the document, anyway."

"oh," virgil says, and his voice is strange. he's staring at patton, and patton can't read the look on his face, and—

"please don't be angry," patton says, and his voice cracks.

"oh, patton, no, no no no no," virgil says, a tone of panic entering his voice when he notices that patton's started to cry again. "hey, patton, listen, it's okay, i'm not angry, i promise—"

"i'm sorry," patton chokes out, and he scrubs his sweater sleeve under his eyes. “you sh-should be mad at me.”

“well, i’m not, so there,” virgil says, and patton looks down at his cocoa again and tries to breathe deep, to calm himself down, except it comes out hitching and shaky and definitely like he’s still crying—

“aw, buddy,” virgil mutters, and hesitantly shuffles closer to put an arm around patton’s shoulders. patton sniffles, and takes the opportunity to bury his face from their staring, because really this is incredibly embarrassing and he doesn’t deserve comfort, but—

selfish, overemotional creature he is, he’ll take it. he’ll take it for as long as he can get it.

“i’m not gonna be in my family anymore,” patton sobs out.

“hey, that—that’s not true, necessarily,” virgil says. “you’re you, you could work something out—”

“i’m throwing anything nice they’ve ever done for me back in their face and spitting on it—”

“hey, no, no—”

“—because i kept so many secrets for so long and this included, i mean, i didn’t even tell you that i was thinking about being e-emancipated—”

“—which you’re totally allowed to do, if it’s what made you feel comfortable and safe—”

“why are you so nice to me?” patton bawls into his chest. “i’m a terrible person.”

“you’re a good person,” virgil says firmly, rubbing a comforting hand up and down his arm. “you are a good person. you just got dealt a really bad hand, and you’re trying to fix it with the tools you’ve got, okay? wanting some distance from your parents does not make you a bad person.”

“they’re gonna hate me,” patton bawls. “i’m an awful son and an ungrateful idiot and i’m a disaster and—”

virgil says, in an even, comforting voice, “you’re a good son, you are not ungrateful, you definitely aren’t an idiot, and, i mean, who can say they aren’t a disaster, sometimes? and they are not gonna hate you.”

“ i hate me.”

“hey, no, no, no,” virgil says firmly. “you are a good person, okay? you’re just going through a lot right now, and that’s okay. just—just let it out.”

and so patton falls apart, and anytime he thinks he’s close to regaining some kind of composure, he falls apart again, and again, and again, and he really doesn’t know how long he spends tear-staining virgil’s shirt, or how long he spends when meredith eventually moves to sandwich him between her and her son, or how long it takes until finally, at last, he gets dehydrated and cries himself into puffy, red eyes, unable to shed anymore tears even if he’d wanted to. 

at virgil’s gentle urging, he finishes another mug of cocoa (the one he’d had before had long since grown cold) and, as he’s staring at the dregs, he swallows.

“i should go,” he says.

“yeah, uh, no,” virgil says. “there’s no way in hell i’m letting you be alone right now.”

a beat, the sense that meredith glowers at virgil over patton’s head, and then he adds, “um, that, except, like, pretend i was more sensitive about it.”

“you don’t have to—”

“patton,” he says. “i would not let anyone who just cried on my shoulder be alone after, let alone you. i mean, you could stay here, if you want. you could go with my mom, if you want. just—just don’t go back to the poolhouse. or at least, if you’re going, i’m gonna go with you.”

“i—”

“patton,” he says. “it’s christmas eve. just for tonight, i can help look after logan and we can tell him about santa, or we can eat leftover cookies and cocoa, or you can just go to sleep, or whatever, just… don’t be alone. please. ”

patton hesitates. on one hand, he’s kind of embarrassed that he broke down this much in front of virgil and his mom, who patton barely knows, really. on the other hand…

well, on the other hand. he doesn’t want to be alone right now. he really, really doesn’t. and he loves logan, loves him more than he could ever have imagined loving someone, but… well, logan is a baby. he’s not exactly company.

patton chews his lip, before he says, “i don’t have anything to wear.”

“you can borrow some of my old clothes for pajamas, if you want,” virgil says immediately, back straightening up a little, like he’s paying closer attention. “and, um—”

“i can drop by your place to pick up clothes or anything the baby needs and swing by early tomorrow,” meredith says. “mark and i were planning on swinging by early anyway, really, to see if virgil needs any help with breakfast.”

“oh,” patton says. “i—okay. yeah. that works. thank you.”

“do you have a preference? for the clothes i should grab, i mean.”

“oh. i mean, i—i have a box of sweaters? any one of those should work,” patton says. “it should be right by the door. i can just re-wear these pants.”

“box of sweaters, got it,” meredith says. “do you want anything else? water, more cocoa?”

“no thank you.” 

“all right, then,” she says, and gently squeezes his shoulder, rubbing her thumb briefly over his shoulder blade before she rises to her feet and gathers the empty mugs in her hands. “i’ll just drop these off in the kitchen, then.”

she rises to her feet and, with that, logan, patton, and virgil are on their own.

“um,” virgil says. “so, i could. i could grab some stuff for pajamas now, if you want. or we could explain the miracle of christmas to logan. or—”

“pajamas sounds good,” patton says. “i—i kind of just want to go to sleep.”

well, really, it’s less of a i want to go to sleep and more like this was so embarrassing and i really don’t want anyone to look at me right now, but. sure. sleep sounds good too.

“yeah,” virgil says, getting to his feet. “yeah, of course. um—follow me.”

it’s not like patton really needs the direction—this is a one-bedroom apartment, after all—but patton picks up logan’s carrier and obediently plods after him anyway.

virgil’s room is dark, and tiny. there’s a pile of blankets on the bed, messy, which shows patton that virgil doesn’t really make his bed in the morning. there’s a couple discarded clothing items on the ground, like the purple flannel he wore yesterday, and the black hoodie he wore the day before that, but other than that, the room’s pretty tidy, with a few frames dotting the walls, the windowsills, and the top of the dresser, which virgil is now digging around in, so patton can’t see them.

however, he can tell that there are some framed posters on the wall, and patton smiles a little. bands that, a couple weeks ago, he’d been surprised to learn virgil really liked, some art that fits the dark kind of vibe, and—

“disney guy, huh?”

“oh, yeah,” virgil says, and awkwardly smiles at him a little over his shoulder. “um, don’t spill my secrets.”

“cross my heart.” patton says, and does so with the hand that isn’t holding logan’s carrier. 

“okay, so,” virgil says. “um. you know where the bathroom is, here, i’ll take logan so you can get ready for bed. i think i’ve got a spare toothbrush in the cabinet under the sink.”

mostly on autopilot, patton hands over the carrier and accepts the clothes that virgil sets in his arms. he goes into virgil’s bathroom. he closes the door. he plants his hands on the counter, and stares at himself in the mirror.

jesus, he looks awful.

his eyes are red and puffy, his cheeks flushed and patchy, tear-streaked and exhausted. the bags under his eyes are about as deep as they’ve ever been, patton thinks, and that’s just his face and not even going into the rest of his body, which patton has a much more complicated relationship with, and this is not the time to get into this he doesn’t think he could cry again but he doesn’t want to risk it, so. he turns his back to the mirror, and shakes out the clothes that virgil’s grabbed for him.

they. are. massive. they are so big. like, patton knows that virgil’s taller than him—patton thinks he’s almost exactly a foot taller than him—but it’s almost a whole other thing to hold one of virgil’s old shirts up to his body and watch as the hem falls practically to his knees.

okay, maybe that’s an exaggeration. but it’s not a huge one.

he keeps his back to the mirror as he changes—honestly, it’s fortunate that he’d worn one of the really comfy nursing bras that are meant for sleeping anyway—and ends up drawing the elastic drawstring of the sweatpants as tight as they’ll go, shoving them high on his hips so they can at least catch on the wider part of his belly, because if he wears them like he wears his normal pants they’ll undoubtedly fall down. and even then, patton has to bend to roll up the hem of the sweatpants, so he won’t trip and fall over them. patton usually wears bigger, baggier clothes (hurrah dysphoria) but this is above and beyond patton’s usual fare.

it doesn’t mean that he doesn’t like it, though. he likes it a lot. under this black t-shirt advertising a sideshire winterfest from a few years back, there is only the vaguest suggestion of a body, no telling what gender. the clothes are well-worn and cozy, and patton feels oddly comforted at the sensation of them. (even men’s clothes feel better on him than clothes made for women. he isn’t sure if that’s the sexism or if it’s him being trans, but, honestly. the presence of pockets alone are such a gigantic benefit.)

so, after having splashed some cold water on his face and brushed his teeth with the fresh-from-the-plastic-packaging toothbrush that he’d found tidily tucked away along with enough spare toothpaste, shampoo, and soap to last virgil probably until he’s forty, he emerges back into virgil’s bedroom to see him wrestling with a fitted sheet.

“what are you doing?” patton asks, going to peek briefly at logan’s sleeping face from where he’s safely tucked away in a corner—probably the best place for him, really, if he’d been put on the top of the dresser there was the slightest chance that logan might fall, which is a chance that patton doesn’t want to take, and anywhere else in the room there might be a chance that he’ll get stumbled over, or, god forbid, stepped on, so—

“putting down fresh sheets for you,” virgil says, and scowls at the corner he’d just tucked under, as if ensuring that it’ll stay through willpower and intimidation alone. “sorry, i don’t have very many super clean blankets, but i just washed these last weekend so they should be okay—”

patton frowns. “i’m not kicking you out of your bed.”

“that’s right,” virgil says, “ i’m kicking me out of my bed.”

“virgil—” patton begins in a sigh, but virgil’s already shaking his head.

“think about it logically,” he points out. “you have quickest access to the bathroom from here, which means quickest access to a surface that logan might need to be changed on. if you need water or anything, sink’s right there. if you need some privacy to feed logan, you’ve got it—”

“but—” patton tries.

“patton,” virgil says. “i know for a fact that your ‘bed’ in the poolhouse is just a busted old pull-out bed. please just take the chance to sleep in a real, actual bed for the first time in nearly two months.”

patton hesitates.

“consider it a christmas gift,” virgil says, and patton sighs in defeat.

“all right,” he says. “okay, fine. one night.”

“hey, that’s all i ask,” virgil says, and takes a step back. “okay, i think i managed it fine. if it tries to mummify you just yell for help.”

patton huffs out a laugh and extends his leg, so virgil can see how many times he’d had to roll them up. “if your clothes don’t do that first, you giant.”

“i’m 6’2”, that’s normal enough,” virgil says mildly. “you’re just a shrimp.”

“i am not a shrimp!”

“you’re, what, five foot even?” virgil says, and it’s so clear that he’s been joking to try and get patton to smile, but right now it’s just genuine joking for the sake of joking, not even a little pitying.

“five feet, two inches, and a quarter ,” patton says, and jabs a finger in his direction. “do not discount the quarter.”

“yeah, i guess when you’re that tiny, you take what you can get,” virgil says, and patton huffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

“you know,” he says, “i’m not even done growing yet.”

“a common defense.”

“ especially when i get back on t,” patton continues. “i’ll grow more then. i might even grow a whole foot. ”

huh. when i get back on t. not if, not a potential, distant, hazy future thing. when i get back on t. that’s nice to realize, patton thinks. being able to resume transition, that’s something to look forward to in his future, too. so that’s two things on the list. logan, and transitioning.

“that sounds like a whole lot of excuses, for a shrimp,” virgil says. 

okay, three things. logan, transitioning, and gloating to virgil when patton towers over him. 

“i might even be taller than you and then you’ll be sorry.” patton says, shaking his fist up at virgil jokingly. 

“oh, i tremble in fear of the day,” virgil says dryly. “i bet you could team up with the baby, logan might give you some much-needed height.”

“he’s twenty-one inches,” patton says, “so you know what? give us a bit of time, when he’s able to hold up his head reliably i can put him on my shoulders and we can—”

“put on a trench-coat and pretend to be an adult so you can try to buy a ticket to an r-rated movie?” virgil says, and patton weakly punches virgil’s arm even as he laughs, and they settle into comfortable quiet.

until—

“virgil?”

“yeah?”

“um—thanks,” he says, looking at virgil sidelong, and virgil’s looking at him, all quiet and respectful and not even a little pitying, like patton had almost been a little afraid of happening. brown eyes a little shiny, even in the dim light, but steady, and warm. “for—for this.” 

“hey,” virgil says. “what are friends for, right?”

“not just, like, the pajamas, and the bed,” patton continues, “for all of this. the christmas, the food, the helping with logan, and the—the everything. ”

a tiny, special kind of smile quirks virgil’s lip.

“i don’t know how i’ll ever be able to pay you back,” patton continues.

“this isn’t a thing to pay back,” virgil says, “you know that, right? that none of this is anything to pay back? all the stuff people do here—they’re doing it to be nice, not because they’re expecting some kind of retribution. well, i mean, they’re probably expecting you to be nice back, but i don’t think you’ll have much trouble with that, since you’re a nice person, so—”

“yeah, well,” patton says, staring at his bare feet, as the sweatpants he’d so dutifully rolled up are starting to puddle around his ankles. “still. thanks.”

“i mean, hey,” virgil says, even softer. “what are friends for, right?”

⁂

meredith watches as her son cautiously tiptoes out of his bedroom, and from the stillness beneath his hoodie that he’s holding his breath. he eases the door painfully, slowly shut, before he turns to her.

“they’re asleep,” he informs her, barely above a whisper.

“good,” meredith says back, in the same tone. “that’s good. let’s go downstairs, i don’t want to risk waking them.”

virgil nods, taking a moment to drop some of his spare blankets on the couch, before he obediently plods behind her, down the stairs, into the diner that once bore her name. none of the other children are there; mark must have sent them along, back to the inn. 

however, mark glances up at the sound of footsteps, taking a moment to hastily finish his sip of tea before setting aside the mug. meredith’s not a betting woman, but if she were, she’d put her bets on lemon balm; most nights, since freddie was born, he’s had a mug of the stuff to wind down before bed. meredith’s more of a chamomile woman, herself.

which is exactly what’s in the mug he nudges before her, and she smiles at him in thanks. it’s probably a bit strained around the edges. she’s going to need a boatload of chamomile to calm herself down, tonight.

“is everything all right?” mark asks mildly, clearly posing it more to virgil than her, and virgil shifts even as he slides into the booth across from them.

“uh,” virgil says. “so, turns out. patton’s been considering getting emancipated and he just now decided that he’s gonna go through with it.” 

“oh,” mark says, and sets aside the teacup with a definite clinking sound onto the table. “dear me. that’s quite a step further than you mentioned when we talked.”

“yeah, since i didn’t know,” virgil says, and accepts the mug of tea that meredith pushes toward him—boy knows better than to refuse his mother food or drink. it doesn’t help the dejected look on his face. “i didn’t even—i just thought he was having trouble sleeping, how did i not know how un-okay he was?”

“oh, virgil—” mark begins.

“i should have noticed,” virgil says. “he comes here almost every day and i didn’t even notice how upset he was until he was having a breakdown on my balcony—”

“cinnabun,” mark says. “it’s very nice that you’re looking out for this boy, but you aren’t a mind-reader. none of this is your fault.”

“of course it’s not,” meredith says. “virgil knows that. don’t you, virgil?”

he should know that. the ways virgil has been helping that poor teenager and that baby, from what she heard through mark, after they met the poor boy for the first time, and maria, when meredith had wrangled her into coffee, is proof enough for that, let alone all the little day-to-day things that she hasn’t heard, that she knows her son is capable of giving. tough exterior, her virgil, with a soft center. he’s the best of the both of them, meredith thinks, briefly bumping her shoulder against mark’s. all of their children are.

but virgil hesitates for just a moment too long, and mark puts his hand on meredith’s before she demand to know why on earth he thinks that it’s his fault, of course it’s not his fault, didn’t he see how much he was helping?

“some people,” mark says, “are very, very good at hiding when they don’t feel okay. you can’t help someone when they’re hiding it. and it certainly isn’t your fault if you don’t see it, at first. that isn’t your fault. you aren’t the one who hurt him. what matters is that you’re doing what you can.”

“i still didn’t see it,” virgil says. “i mean, you—you always see it. with everyone. ”

“not always,” mark says. “not with you.”

meredith leans a little harder into her husband’s side.

of the two of them, mark’s always been the sensitive one. always, always. she was the one who brought him flowers on the first date, he was the one to swoon and go sappy over romantic gestures, she was the one who had awkwardly mumbled out a response to his first “i love you,” too unequipped to actually respond properly. he was the one who cried during sad movies, to be swayed to adopting some poor unfortunate animal. he was the emotionally adept one. 

he’s the person that people went to advice. he’s the person he’d be the person to quietly intercede and discuss matters with a diner attendant, and she’d come back to someone crying on her husband’s shoulder. it’s like he has a sixth sense. 

so not cottoning on to the fact that so many of virgil’s teenage behavioral issues were rooted in some deep, emotional conflicts? his own son?

mark had taken it hard. they both had, of course, they’d both had their moments in the aftermath of virgil’s diagnosis wondering if there was somewhere they’d gone wrong, relentlessly backtracking their memories to see each and every opportunity they had missed to reach out to virgil and intercede sooner. but for mark, it had been a whole other level. how could i not see him? he’d asked her bleakly, one night. how could i do that to him? how did we not know as soon as he started acting out? how could i have possibly failed him like that?

meredith had, perhaps, seen that her husband had taken it hard, and moved to blame the only outward source she could. oh, of course, in retrospect, she knows that remus duke was only a little older than essie and silas, but…

but.

her husband had been hurting. her husband is the emotional one, the soft one. of the pair, she’s always been the angry one, the defensive one, the fighter. for better or worse.

virgil looks into his cup of tea, and mark’s hand moves to squeeze his wrist.

“i’m not trying to blame you,” he says, quiet but firm. “you were hurting. you did what you thought would help. i didn’t understand. what matters is—and i hope you agree—we did what we could to help you when we did understand.”

“you did,” virgil says.

“and that’s what matters,” meredith says. 

“i hardly think you’re just going to abandon that boy and that baby because he’s just now told you about something that’s bothering him,” mark adds.

“of course not,” virgil says, a little offended.

“well, there you go,” meredith says. “you can’t change the past, you can only keep moving forward.”

“emile says the same thing,” virgil says, and then his eyes widen. “i’m an idiot.”

“what? no, you’re not,” meredith says heatedly. if emile picani has taken a sudden turn to cruelty she’ll march right in there and—

“ emile, ” virgil says, and opens and closes his hand. “someone has to have a pen—”

meredith takes one out of her pocket—waitress hobbies run deep—and virgil scribbles a few times on the corner of a napkin to get the ink flowing. meredith tilts her head in order to read what her son is scrawling.

emile picani, the address, phone number, and he’s my therapist. i know he has experience with emancipation stuff and he does pro-bono confidential stuff for teenagers, if you ever want someone else to talk to about everything. he’s a bit weird (really into cartoons) but he’s a really good guy. 

“just so he has the info,” virgil explains, folding the napkin into a crisp square. “god, i can’t believe i didn’t think of emile until now.”

meredith frowns. “haven’t you been seeing him lately?”

virgil shrugs. “holiday hours, for the both of us,” and, presumably because he can see the pair of them gearing up for a lecture, “i had an appointment in november and i’ve got an appointment sometime in the middle of january, i’m still taking my meds, i’m doing pretty okay on the whole anxiety front, promise.”

“pretty okay?” meredith repeats. she’d sure hope that her son was doing a lot better than pretty okay. she’s really hoping that all of her children are deliriously happy.

“kinda hard to be like yeah, i’m doing real good with anxiety, mom,” he points out, and she cedes the point.

oh, not for forever, of course. she’ll be asking after him whenever she can get him alone. but she’ll cede it for now.

“do you think he’ll go?” mark asks.

“i’ll encourage it, and i’m sure if i mention it to maria, she will too,” virgil says. “i’ll make sure and grab one of his pro-bono cards so that patton knows it won’t be too expensive or anything. so. we’ll see.”

he pauses, before he says, “i think it’d be really good for him to, y’know. talk to someone about everything. having a kid, running away. his parents.”

aaaand that’s what makes meredith snap.

“ parents,” she hisses. 

“mer,” mark begins, with the distinct tone of now, let’s keep our heads, but meredith shakes off any of that, because—

“what kind of parents raised him to think you’d be angry at him for being upset,” meredith snarls. 

“shitty ones,” virgil agrees, scowling, and meredith jabs a finger at him in agreement as mark sighs at him for swearing, before doubling down and saying “real fuckin’ shitty ones.”

“virgil,” mark says, in warning.

“he’s right,” meredith says. “mark, if you’d seen how upset he was—”

well, patton would have gotten calmer a lot faster, probably. mark was always better with crying than her—even back when the kids were all babies. the only surefire way she could calm them down when he couldn’t was when it came to feeding time.

“they are his parents,” mark says.

“which is exactly what he would say,” meredith points out. “what, just because they’re his parents, he should tolerate them treating him badly?”

“of course i’m not saying that,” mark says, placatingly. 

“virgil,” meredith says. “how bad did that boy have it, before he got here?”

virgil hesitates. meredith leans forward.

“i need to know if i should swear to kill them or not,” she says, joking only a little. virgil’s lip quirks, ever so slightly, so she guesses she’s succeeded.

“but, seriously,” she continues, “we’re all thinking the same thing, right? about helping patton give logan a great first christmas, by giving patton a great first christmas away from home?”

virgil nods.

“right then,” meredith says. “is there anything we should know?”

“he hasn’t told me tons,” he cautions them. “and this—y’know. this should be kept quiet. as far as i know, it’s—it’s just maria and me who know this stuff.”

“if you’d be betraying confidences,” mark begins, but virgil huffs out a breath.

“i was kind of planning on going to see emile about it anyway,” and oh, even if the sobbing, near-hysterical teenager hadn’t been a hint, that’s another big one. though this is something that, admittedly, she and virgil might not see eye-to-eye on, virgil’s therapy habits are sound. meredith thinks he should go more frequently; virgil makes appointments sparingly, to discuss things that really weigh on his mind. he tends to rely on other coping mechanisms before he goes to therapy.

planning to go see emile about something was a surefire sign that virgil was, well. anxious.

mark exchanges a look with her—clearly, he’s come to the same conclusion—and meredith takes a sip of her tea, mostly for show. she can barely even taste it.

“so,” meredith says. “patton’s… history.”

virgil sighs, a long, gusting breath, and traces his pinky once, twice, thrice around the rim of his mug, trying to gather his words together.

“patton’s family is rich,” virgil says bluntly. “ really rich. sickeningly rich. i looked up a few of the organizations that patton mentioned his mom was a part of and this one art piece that patton said they had in his house that he hated and they’ve got to be, like. i don’t want to ask patton and pry too deep, but they’ve gotta be multi-millionaires, easy. that might even be the low end of the prediction spectrum.”

“oh,” mark says, and meredith wonders if his mouth has gone as dry as hers has. multi-millionaires. well, you wouldn’t predict that just by looking at patton, with his secondhand sweaters and ill-fitting jeans and also the fact that he lives in a poolhouse . “goodness me.”

“yeah,” virgil says. “so. i dunno what patton’s dad does exactly, he told me but i kind of forgot. i think it’s insurance or banking or something, and his mom is on like a million committees, and they’re old money, i guess, so they pride themselves on contributing to society or whatever. stereotypical snooty rich people. you know the type.”

not personally —it’s not like stereotypical rich people tend to frequent diners—but as a business owner, meredith knew the type, or at least, the kids of those related to the type. convinced that since they were born with a silver spoon in their mouths, their lives were just as hard as the lives of families like meredith’s, who’d had to count pennies and struggled their way to each payday just to barely scrape by. and that they were better than people like her and her family, and that they had one something to deserve their amount of privilege and fortune rather than just hit the lottery in the genetic draw.

“anyway. so. his parents…”

virgil huffs out a breath, and takes another deep one in, and meredith probably shouldn’t be surprised that he looks like he’s fighting to keep calm. usually, he doesn’t take after her in conflicts; that is to say, virgil’s never been very shouty.

“his parents,” meredith repeats, trying to urge him onward. 

who patton wants to separate himself from legally, and felt the need to run away with a newborn , and is willing to give up all those multi-millions of dollars just to get away from them. meredith feels a creeping sense of dread in her stomach.

“i hate them,” virgil spits out, and then an almost-surprised look at his own vitriol that flashes across his face, before he doubles down. “i mean—jesus, i’m twenty-three, and i know that it isn’t a good parenting move to keep telling your kid their life plan that’s detailed down to the very college dorm and expect them to keep at it perfectly despite the fact that he’s his own person, for fuck’s sake,” and he’s off.

it’s evident that an appointment with emile is probably the right call for all of this, because how was virgil supposed to help a sixteen-year-old kid? it’s not like virgil’s in the habit of making friends with sixteen-year-olds, since he’s twenty-three, but patton has so few people on his side, not even his own parents, so virgil’s all in for him and that tiny little baby that are both asleep upstairs.

it’s evident that an appointment with emile is probably the right call for all of this, because virgil had no idea how to strategize how to help this poor homeless kid, who sleeps on an old pull-out couch (maria had said that the latest mattress to get harmed in some way was going straight to patton but how often did an inn guest harm their mattress?!) and won’t let people lend him any money and virgil’s trying as much as he can, giving him a newly-invented family-and-friends discount and inviting him to do some odd jobs at the diner on the weekends just so he could make sure that he’s getting fed and has some money to save and how is he supposed to help when patton was so wary of it?

it’s evident that an appointment with emile is probably the right call for all of this, because how was virgil supposed to help patton transition into learning that being treated with kindness wasn’t a debt to pay and that not everyone has it out to lecture him about every little thing he does wrong.

it’s evident that an appointment with emile is probably the right call for all of this, because meredith’s about ready to take the car and drive into the city to give them a piece of her mind. meredith doesn’t want patton near those people, but if she ever has the opportunity to meet them—

“i’ll kill them,” meredith says, cold and bleak, and virgil meets her eyes.

and, for maybe the first time she’s ever made that threat, she isn’t sure how much she’s kidding.

from the glint in virgil’s eyes, she’s pretty sure that he doesn’t know how much he’s kidding, either.

mark, always the level-headed one, lays his hand over hers.

“hey, now,” he says, and then, “that’s hardly in the christmas spirit, is it?”

“i don’t feel particularly christmassy,” virgil mutters. 

meredith can’t help but agree. christmas is supposed to be about laughing children, the glee of tearing shiny wrapping paper off that gift you weren’t expecting and yet was so perfect that you should have been expecting all along, cuddling with her husband on the couch with a warm mug of (spiked) eggnog in her hands, watching their children play and talk as they bounced around with the boundless energy of youth that only seemed escalated by a christmas morning, the solemn beauty of a congregation singing christmas hymnals, the warm feeling of all of humanity taking a day, just a day, to remember that they’re all in this together and to reflect on what’s important: family, and friends, and kindness, and good will to all.

christmas wasn’t supposed to be heartbroken, abandoned, homeless teenagers. christmas wasn’t supposed to be screaming babies. christmas wasn’t supposed to be about missing something that he should have had to sever himself from. christmas wasn’t breakdown after breakdown. christmas was supposed to be a lot of things, but not sad. never, ever sad. 

and, meredith thinks with a surge of that old, familiar anger, it wasn’t about to be. she wouldn’t let that happen.

she’s on her feet before she even realizes it, and both mark and virgil blink up at her in surprise.

“we all agreed that we invited patton to our family christmas because we wanted him to have a great one,” she says, shrugging on her coat and grabbing her purse. “so, we’re going to give him a great one.”

“uh—i mean, sure, mom, that sounds great,” virgil says. “but it’s nearly midnight on christmas eve. what—how are we going to do that?”

meredith smiles, letting it unfurl on her face.

“oh, god, no, i know what that look means,” mark says, then, slightly more pleading, “meredith, honey, it’s christmas. ”

“what?” virgil says. “what does it mean?”

“it means,” meredith says, smiling as wide as she can, “that i’m going to go and raise hell as a special christmas treat for taylor doose.”

[rubberduckyrye]

I did not mean to imply that Kokichi is a twisted sociopath. I REALLY don't want to perceive him that way, but a lot of people see him like that. And it kinda feels... unnatural for me. To go to your blog, to see portrayals of him as a leader, as a boy who is rude, callous and a trickster, but who still cares about his classmates with all his heart, who did horrible things out of desire to help others, to see him as a human instead of the evil incarnate. "There must be some kind of a mistake" I

think, "You must have been mistaken about something. How the hell can you interpret him as a flawed, twisted(in later chapters) but still likeable human being? It's clearly wrong because he is a villain" I don't allow myself to even slightly ponder the fact that Kokichi has feelings, that he is not a sociopath that enjoys human suffering, because for some reason it is WRONG. And I don't want to see him as "Nagito + Junko + Hiyoko but worse", but somehow in my head every interpretation of him

other that "sociopathic nazi gremlin" is WRONG and blasphemous. Somewhat like with Chara several years ago when I was into UT. I liked the Narrator/Player Chara theories because they showed Chara as a very flawed individual who did a lot of things wrong but also had many redeeming qualities despite that, because it gave them some depth instead of reducing them to the one-dimensional "for the evulz" villain and also provided an interesting deconstruction of game mechanics(narration, interaction         

game mechanics. But the voice in my head kept telling me that this game mechanics. But the voice in my head kept telling me that this interpretation is wrong, completely not canon in the slightest bit, Chara is pure evil, you are just stupid for daring to assume sth else about them. Because of it, I eventually started to hate Undertale and everything pertaining to it. This is a very simular thing to my Undertale experience. Surfing this blog and finding UT and DRV3 content made me realise that.     

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All right gonna assume the rant is done here since that last ask looks like the end but tbh it doesn’t really matter because this is basically pushing my boundaries here and I’m getting really tired of this nonsense in my ask box.

Because gonna be blunt Anon, this sounds like a “you” problem.

First of all--this blog, impytricky, has over 900 followers. Meaning that ~900 people follow this blog and agree with the notion that Kokichi is not a terrible person. My blog over at @unweavinglies has over three hundred with a significant drop in total posts on that blog, and my theories there often get hundreds and hundreds of notes. People who don’t even follow this blog or that one will reblog my analysis posts in agreement.

So a lot of people see Kokichi as less “evil” and more morally grey. Actually, I’ve seen more positive interpretations of Kokichi than I’ve seen people making him into a true villain. That’s because making him a pure evil little bastard is kind of really boring and misses the entire point of his character and character arc.

You probably don’t see a lot of the “good” interpretations of Kokichi because you don’t go looking for it/ignore it/dismiss it when you come across it. Probably. Like how I see less of the villain interpretation because I don’t go looking for it/dismiss it/whatever.

Second of all: Kokichi is technically not a villain. While I still go by the policy that all interpretations are valid, it’s not canon that he is a “villain.” Narratively speaking, Kokichi is an anti-hero. An anti-hero is “a central character in a story, movie, or drama who lacks conventional heroic attributes,“ and yes, can be antagonists. Antagonists does not equal Villain, however. Anti-heroes are often marked by the idea of a hero doing bad things for the greater good.

Third of all: Please for the love of god cut that shit out with the Nazi thing. Kokichi is not a Nazi. I hated this stupid misconception before and I still hate it now--it’s offensive, outside of fiction, and it’s just plain inaccurate either way. This misconception comes from the fact that Japan especially tends to romanticize military attire, including attire in WWII Germany, which shows up in Kokichi’s hat in one promo picture. Another reason this misconception is the bane of my existence is because some fantranslator translated Kokichi’s ultimate talent to be “Ultimate Dictator” when it was apparently able to be translated as “Ultimate President” or “Ultimate Leader”. The Nazi misconception is just that--a huge misconception created by poor taste in design and fantranslations being inaccurate.

Please for the love of god, take that thought and unlearn it now. Seriously, it’s offensive. Stop it.

Fourth of all: This is where I see that this is more of a you problem above everything else. From what you’ve said, you seem to deem “morally grey” characters as “evil” or “Villainous” which comes with black or white thinking. From my perspective, what I’m hearing is “I can’t see shades of grey, so this must be black because it is not white.”

Let me ask you: Gonta Gokuhara. Whether or not Kokichi showed him the flashbacklight due to “””Evil””” intentions or whatever, he chose to kill Miu. Kokichi did not “trick” him into it, nor was he able to force Gonta into it via blackmail or what have you. Gonta chose to kill Miu of his own accord. This is a straight up canon fact. He chose to kill Miu because he believed that Mercy Killing her and everyone else before they found out the secret of the outside world would be kinder. This is canon fact that really cannot be disputed.

Let me ask you--is Gonta evil all of a sudden because he chose to kill someone? That he was aiming to kill everyone?

What about Frisk--or the player, in undertale--who has to actively choose to genocide run the game? Are players who choose ths path evil all of a sudden? What about Frisk, who would also be making this decision? Deltarune has implied that “Chara”, or the demon or whatever, is a separate entity that can control the character we play and we can’t control them when they’re in control. Meaning that for the whole Genocide route, Frisk had to actively choose to kill every single monster underground. If you go by the theory that the player isn’t just controlling their movements at any rate, you can see Chara take control in when thy kill Sans and Flowey. Yes, this means that Chara was not in control before then, thus putting the blame for most of the Genocide run on the player, or Frisk.

Yet the choice to do a pacifist run is there too. So which is it? What’s evil, and what isn’t evil? Can you really call Frisk pure good or evil? What about the player? What about Gonta?

That is the complexity of grey morality--the answer isn’t black or white and can’t be so simplified. Because what’s kinder, in Gonta’s case--killing everyone, or letting them find out that basically all of humanity was wiped out off of the face of the earth and the killing game they were forced into was all for nothing? Sure it’s terrible to kill someone, but it’s also terrible to allow people to be mentally tortured too, which the outside world basically did to everyone when they did find out.

It sounds like you’re stuck in the mind set of things being black or white. If you want to see characters like Kokichi and Chara as morally grey, then you need to tell that voice that says otherwise to shush up. No one is perfectly evil, no one is perfectly good. Good people can do horrible, terrible things and still be good people. Bad people can also do very, very good things, and still be terrible people.

I won’t be answering asks like this again. Please refrain from shoving your opinions down my throat. Maybe you didn’t intend to, but you are with lines like "There must be some kind of a mistake" and "You must have been mistaken about something. How the hell can you interpret him as a flawed, twisted(in later chapters) but still likeable human being? It's clearly wrong because he is a villain" because yeah that’s basically ways of saying “You’re wrong about Kokichi and I don’t like your interpretation.”