#is better and more worthwhile than them suffering for their actions. this comes up with the Institute and Isadora

[slocumjoe]

hey uhhh i went thru ur oc post history and u said gus set himself on fire?? pls context

I love this character because whenever someone asks about him I always have to take a deep breath and get comfortable and suck a breath in through my teeth. I treat him so poorly

More Gus lore, because that specific event is actually tied to the very first event that would fuck him up forever, so I can't really talk about it without going in depth.

This is explaining the core tenent of Augustijn's story, which is guilt and its dangers. Basically, where that constant guilt came from, and how it...turned out for him...

It turns out okay. Just...takes 200+ years, an apocalypse, a divorce, and his son dying! 🥳Yay🥳

Tw; Religious trauma, child abuse, suicide, drug use, cannibalism, mental illnesses, and yet another suicide attempt.

So, some background, Gus's mom, Emma, was a fanatic catholic and generally Bat Shit about religion. As you might imagine, this is the Direct Source of both Gus' questionable worldviews, traumas, and his biological inclination to uuuhhh bad Head Times.

Emma was raised mildly religious, but she...took to it too hard? Her family was not the cause of her obsession, Gus's grandparents and uncles/aunts over there actually cut her off at one point, because she was starting to worry them but reaching out led to her lashing out. So, they just...backed off. Emma herself was a simple, homebody woman, who wanted to be at home raising her kids, and tending her garden. She would have been this way even without the religious thing.

But Emma and her side of the family were prone to addiction, see? And religion became her point of fixation and obsession. This could have still been okay, if not for the church she went into. A catholic church in the Hague that was known by all for being kind of fucking out there, even by other hardcore Catholics. This was one she went into, and even her grandchild 240+ years later would feel the ripple of this decision.

Emma goes into church and gets gnarly ideas about how life works. Its a woman's duty to have kids and raise them, to be good to her husband and her house, to listen and obey her men. Sin is inevitable and everyone does it, only those that admit and accept punishment can get another chance at Paradise. God knows every action you take and he does not care for the context, he only cares about the action. There is no "well, but" under the Lord.

Emma has mental illness, some kind of depression and anxiety, so this Big Brother Watching And Judging fucked her up. Especially since her church, in particular, was physically abusive if you did not confess to anything during confession. They thought if you had nothing to confess, you were lying.

At this point, she's met and engaged to Theodore Reinier, a rich heir to a European manufacturing company. He's pretty, a gentleman, and best of all, rich, so she can have as big and luxurious a garden as she wants. She likes him. She does not love him. She's in her twenties and unmarried with no kids, and her poor family needs to be taken care of. So she marries him. Theodore is smart enough to see this for what it is, and kind enough to allow it. He lets his wife do her own thing and treats her as a friend, rather than a lover. She hates this, she wants to be a wife (she doesnt). She wants kids, he gives her one. Augustijn. This birth goes rough, and she's told no more children.

Theodore makes one rule; August goes to a different church, or he does not go at all. Theo really didn't like Emma's church and he certainly wasn't exposing his kid to that shit.

Emma pretends to agree and takes Gus to That Church. Theo doesn't attend, so he doesn't know this is happening until much later. Gus gets all the same nasty shit Emma does. Theo learns of this when he sees Gus covered in bruises from confession beatings. This puts a huge rift between him and Emma, and he pulls all the strings he can to have her church shut down.

Emma grows to resent and hate Theo and Augustijn for not being the perfect husband and child she deserves as a good, God fearing house wife. Augustijn is left to his nannies, Emma hides away in her private garden, fuming. Theodore tries to bond with his son, but Emma's poisoned that well.

Emma tells Augustijn about demons, to fear them. She specifically tells him about church grims, demons that hunt around churches in the form of a dog to drag sinners to hell. She says this as she's admiring her new obsidian dog statues for her garden.

Eventually, Emma goes yellow wallpaper and loses her mind, and is sent to therapy and put on medications. Augustijn loathes his father for his mother's state. Theodore just wants his friend and son okay. But Emma, as she's out in town, coming back from therapy, she stops at a friend's house while the friend isn't there, and hooks up with the woman's husband. Friend's husband was stern, strict with his wife, God fearing, and generally an obnoxious 50s ideal shithead husband. Everything Emma wanted. This wasn't out of nowhere, it was brewing in the background. She knew both of them from her old church.

Emma goes home, and finally having a reason for the guilt that's always plagued her, elects to acknowledge her sin. She drowns herself in the pond of her garden, stared down by three dark, ruby-eyed dogs, overseeing her passage into the afterlife. Her young son comes into the garden to meet his mother, after she's been gone all day, only to find her in a red pool. He looks up into the eyes of the dogs. He remembers nothing of this incident, blocking it out and having been too young to understand.

Years pass, and Augustijn turns to drugs as well, though his come from the darkest parts of the Hague, rather than a doctor. He turns to sex, to crime, to anything he thinks will either corrupt him so much he doesn't care, or will finally make his guilt feel justified. He wears his mother's cross necklace through it all, and sees her beloved dog with every sin.

Augustijn goes to America for college, to Harvard, studying to become a pastor himself. (This is maybe the most terrifying part of him, the fact that he almost got it). But he doesn't feel satisfied with it, has a moment of clarity and realizes he isn't fit to preach anything. The grim certainly doesn't think so. He instead follows his only friend, Isadora, into the military. The US government allowing their soldiers to do chems means his failed drug tests don't matter.

Augustijn becomes a sniper. He has always hurt people, excelled in it, but taking life frightens him, because he knows he has no right to decide who lives or dies, not like this. But he's in China, and he's told to kill. He does, and he's very good at it. His teammates marvel at just how scrappy and determined he is, like a weed, a mold.

The Biandukou Pass Incident occurs. He eats his entire team, trapped in a Chinese mountain range during a blizzard.

Delirious from almost two months of surviving on nothing but psycho and human flesh, Augustijn is let loose back into Boston, honorably discharged. His lingering hallucinations from his Daytripper addiction, mixed with psycho withdrawal, trauma, guilt, shame, the fear of God—everything culminates. He looks up and sees the figure that has haunted him since that one, awful day; the church grim, staring expectantly.

His mother drowned herself, so he thought it fitting if he set himself ablaze.

#ss; alter #I hate to put a word to his specific illness because you always get people like 'this isnt what i think this is like so pls die' #but i imagine he'd be diagnosed with hppd #hallucinogen persisting perception disorder. basically lingering effects of hallucinogenics after use #the point of emma is that she did not ever see past the shit #Augustijn gradually learns how to reject his guilt and view himself objectively #and comes to see how he was hurt and how he hurt others. and accepts that he has a right to feel hurt but an obligation to be better #emma doesnt. she never would have even if she survived her attempt #its like. you only feel guilt because its a concept put into you #and emma taught him guilt. always feel dirty and shameful. #but. she didnt feel guilty. not really. she was confident in all of her actions and never once hesistated #she thought it was guilt just because she knew how it would look to other people. thats not guilt thats awareness. #she wasnt guilty she feared repercussions. #meanwhile her son grew up always ashamed and horrified at himself and was desperate for any kind of comeuppance #not to make it okay because he knew it wouldn't. but because he deserved it #accountability and justice are also big concepts in gus' character. the idea that someone becoming better and earnestly doing it #is better and more worthwhile than them suffering for their actions. this comes up with the Institute and Isadora #anyway if any of you come at me bitching about portaying a woman as abusive im biting #'joe no one does fhat' they literally do. its happened to me before. yall say you support womens wrongs until theyre abusive moms #anyway. fun fact; being beaten during confessions is why gus cant admit when hes done wrong for like 30 years. its a trauma/trigger #gus really is just. 'how do i process what happened to me without losing my mind' #and he lost his mind. but he does everything he can to find it again. because he doesnt want to feel this way anymore

[marxistcomedy]

it’s not just that like . work feels bad or whatever that Gives Us Mental Illness . for more and more of us especially the underlying material relatons of the system we live under makes it impossible to be still and feel safe . if your material security is at risk it is an impossible task! there’s always something to fucking worry about , some problem that will rear its head the second we try to take a breath stop for a moment . the conditions of our work have us trained to respond to stillness and inaction with pressure and fear . we have to keep moving , or , like sharks , we’ll die (or our managers will yell at us)

beyond that , the locust of our social lives — our productive lives — is alienating . we do not do what we want to do , what makes us feel good , what allows us to be still and feel safe . we’re with more other people more consistently than we’ve been since we were children , but there’s no room for socialization or play . for those who do work that prioritizes socialization , it’s competitive and needs to be highly managed , it isn’t “time off” . as a result we experience an acute absence of pleasure , so we need to seek it out elsewhere in other ways

and basically everyone feels like this . those who don’t are either a Different Type (Class) of Person or it’s Coming For Them — or both , or their neurosis comes from different material factors . either way , it’s all about trying to experience pleasure and escape its absence . security is a foregone conclusion — though theatre of it has been forced into serviceable substitution (hand in hand with the kind of fearmongering that brings it to emotionally satisfying extremes — waterboard yourself with true crime podcasts until you feel stark relief at the sight of a cop on your street or the thrill of profiling someone on nextdoor)

i remain a faithful marxist so i don’t think that feudal/pre-feudal experiences of neurodiversity or whatever are like . better . maybe for some of us , probably for me , but that doesn’t make up for all of the people that would’ve just died otherwise . i’m sure it might make you feel better to imagine your mental illness putting you in a position of spiritual significance . i don’t think being the person lucky enough to be seen as a prophet or soothsayer is worth the risk of being too much of a freak for your community to accommodate you , or for it going on long enough to be abandoned

what i mean , and what i think other marxists mean when they say your experience of mental illness is related to your material conditions and experience isn’t that it would all disappear if you didn’t have to go to work . it’s that your experience of the world and how you relate to others would be changed if the underlying mechanisms and motivations were different

we know that during the london bombings there were a number of people suffering from debilitating , life-limiting mental illness were able to do work and significantly contribute to humanitarian and rescue efforts . this is not because work “fixed” them . as a marxist i would credit it to a person’s ability to recognize whether or not something is worth them doing , and caring for one another (when we are not actively punished for doing so) feels worthwhile to most .

if we weren’t alienated by market forces , if we could effectively communicate and coordinate our actions towards universally pleasurable and desirable ends (minimal work , maximal connection and recreation) , if we were able to do so together — some people who are mentally ill or disabled now would not be in a way that is disruptive or prohibitive to their enjoyment of life . to redirect work and labour towards pleasurable life would also mean valuing and prizing the kind of reproductive labour that would allow people who would still be disabled under such circumstances to experience fuller pleasure and connection in their own lives

when we talk about material relations in this way and how they direct our lives , it’s important not to think of it as some kind of brain parasite that makes us all fundamentally broken in some way . it’s an ever-shifting matrix of complex incentives that direct us towards certain ends that reify that system . it’s not personal or individual or even that specific , it’s you feeling the material pressures of that system as you experience and struggle against the restraints that exist around you . different systems with different restraints will incentivize you to feel and act in different ways

#this is nothing but ive been typing too long to just delete it

[anextrapart]

Can i ask why you won't like jimmy going to prison?

Oh my god yes anon thank you for asking! (Unsurprisingly, this will not be brief.)

So here's the thing. I recognize on a basic narrative level why it could make sense. Arguably the whole kickoff of Jimmy being inflicted upon Albuquerque was Chuck rescuing him from going to prison after the sunroof incident, so the idea that Jimmy goes to prison all this time later by turning himself in and no longer running away from “the consequences of his actions” does technically close that loop on a really superficial level.

From a strictly moralistic, real-world law and order perspective then yes of course Jimmy (and BrBa-timeline especially) is a criminal and should be in jail. But because this is fiction, because we’ve spent so much time getting to know and love and root for him, I don’t personally find that to be a particularly satisfying ending. It isn’t a bad idea or one that doesn’t make a degree of narrative sense, but I don’t think it really completes the story in a way that it deserves to be completed. To me, Jimmy choosing to go to jail and being presented as finding the peace through that choice that he hasn’t found elsewhere doesn’t feel genuine; it feels more like “look how clever we are having him choose to go to jail, bet you’ve never seen a show end like that before!” And that may not be the intent--they may genuinely feel that’s what’s best for the story, but to me it feels empty. Jimmy making that choice feels more like a desperate, stressed decision not unlike the decision we just saw Kim make: “I can’t live with myself, I’m miserable, I don’t know what else to do, so I’m just going to give up.” Going to jail wouldn’t be learning from his mistakes, it’s just easier than really facing within himself the things that he’s done. It’s a relief. At this point, going to jail is another form of running away. 

I think part of the trouble too with the “closing the narrative loop” idea I mentioned above is the fact that it isn’t a one-for-one trade. Going to prison in Cicero all those years ago would not have “fixed” Jimmy. It’s not as though he would have done his time and come out the other side a well-adjusted, law-abiding citizen. Personally, I think he would be significantly worse; I don’t think his good heart would have survived. So it feels hollow to present this sort of idea that everything catches up to him and he “chooses to take responsibility” for what he should have done a long time ago because the thing is... he did try. He tried so hard to be better and do the right thing. And he absolutely fucked up and ultimately did bad things that hurt people but it’s not like Chuck got him out of lockup and he immediately started committing crimes.

What I want to get out of this story is that Jimmy has learned something and grown as a person and gained some perspective on his life and choices. Wouldn’t it be worthwhile to see this guy who’s been hurt and beat down again and again manage to make some good choices and find some happiness and value in a quiet life that he never would have expected? If we’re moralizing then yes, he hasn’t served what would legally count as paying his debt to society, but again, because this is fiction I don’t really care about that. I’d argue that he’s been in a prison of his own making for quite some time and that he’s suffered enormously. If what we want to get out of a person serving time in prison isn’t just a miserable punishment but for them to actually be “rehabilitated” and fit to rejoin society as an improved citizen, then I see no reason why (within the context of this fiction) we can’t get Jimmy there without ending with him on a path of longterm suffering (because no matter how “at peace” he could be presented as being in prison, I don’t believe for a hot second that he’s actually happy. Or, for that matter, not still wearing a mask).

Prison-ending also rubs me the wrong way because it bothers me that some people are opposed to a hopeful or “happy” ending simply because they feel that’s somehow inherently less valuable than a tragic or “realistic” one? There is tragedy here. We’ve just seen it, we watched Jimmy McGill almost completely decimated right in front of us. You already showed us the tragedy, and not even all of it yet. I just don’t see the value in burning a character down to nothing and then not building them back up again better and stronger. Does he “deserve” to go to jail? Maybe. If we’re moralizing again, sure. But when has this show ever been about people getting what they “deserve” (for good or ill)? 

And what about Kim? What does she “deserve”? Because I can’t reconcile a happy Kim without Jimmy, not after all they’ve been through. I don’t think she can’t live without him, but actual genuine happiness? I don’t think it exists for either of them without the other. So for me, part of a satisfying conclusion involves Jimmy and Kim finding the ability within themselves to make choices that allow them to be together without hurting other people. And yeah some of that is genuinely just the romantic in me being a sappy bitch, but a lot of it just feels true to the story that they’ve been telling us. Why, why, why would you build these complex, flawed, wonderfully lovable characters only to leave them (and by extension, us) in misery and disappointment for them? I think in many ways this show has always just been about a guy who is at his core full of love, who wants to be loved in return, who keeps losing it over and over again (for a variety of reasons) and is just in agony over it. Why the fuck would you not let him figure out how to keep it?

Very long answer short, I guess it kind of just comes down to what is the takeaway they want us to get from this story? That you can’t escape your nature and that no matter what you do you're destined to stay on the path (the bad choice road) you’ve been on for years? The one that leads to jail and heartbreak and separation and loneliness? 

Or that people can learn, people can change, and that it’s possible to still find joy in your life, even if the learning and the changing and the joy are all found after the worst things imaginable have happened to you?

I’ll take the latter, thanks.

#i sure am feeling some kind of way #(yes i am staring directly into peter gould's eyes while saying this) #thanks again for asking anon i love talking about this show #bcs s6b #better call saul

[breerps]

Stalking people to their personal socials in a crusade to prove you’re right crosses just about every line imaginable, and is deeply unhealthy behavior for anyone to engage in. Especially for people who were hurt by the person they’re tracking down.

No matter what anyone has done to you, you are not their keeper. You are not a shield between them and the world. It’s not even remotely okay to stalk them and harass them for confessions. It’s not okay to stalk their friends and demand confirmation. It’s doesn’t matter that you’re not making their accounts public—you should never have gone looking for that information in the first place. You have that knowledge now when it was never your business. Not only because it’s a huge violation of privacy, but more importantly because it’s deeply unhealthy to you to still be giving them that much space in your life.

I am an abuse survivor from a family of abuse survivors. Most of my closest friends are, sadly, survivors of abuse in some way. And everyone recovers from their trauma differently. But in my personal experience, the people who recover the best are those who learn to completely cut their abusers out of their life. That doesn’t mean forget what happened—you are never obligated to forgive or forget. But for the love of fuck, do not allow your abuser to continue haunting you every single day. That literally allows them to keep a hold over you, coloring the way you navigate the rest of your life, and they don’t deserve that. Why keep giving it to them?

Don’t track them down and keep tabs on them. Don’t go looking for reasons to bring up and relive what they did to you. Don’t hunt their loved ones down and harass them about what that person did. Don’t keep letting them suck up your time and energy even after you’ve gotten away from them. Get professional help to move on from what happened in a way that completely releases their hold on your life.

Whatever happens to them once they’re out of your life is none of your concern. If the subject of what they did to you comes up, you can be open and honest about your experiences if you want to. But know how to share in a way that doesn’t retraumatize you or other people who were hurt by them. Your personal trauma is yours to heal from and deal with, not a public spectacle that should influence other people’s lives.

Your abuser should not get any more of your time or energy. They don’t deserve your forgiveness, you’re not obligated to offer it, and they’re not your problem anymore. What they do now is on them, and the rest of the world is more than capable of judging them for their actions from here on out. If they continue to be a terrible person, others will see that and judge them accordingly. If they improve or change, others will deal with that and decide if they’re a worthwhile person. Why should you care what they do with their life from now on? Why are you still giving them far more attention than they deserve? You’ve closed that chapter of your life. They can live, they can die, they can improve, they can get worse. You do not need to be involved, and personally I feel it’s deeply harmful to you to continue involving yourself and dredging it up to involve others.

(And if we’re really going to dive into this, even if they have changed, why are you purposely sabotaging their efforts to move on with their life and be a better person? Why track them down to demand apologies you have no intention of accepting? Why dredge things up so publicly years later, unless your intention isn’t to find closure but to make them suffer? So much of this whole situation is just screaming “I just want you to hurt as much as I was hurt, and I don’t care who I have to hurt in the process to get it”. Which is not healthy in the slightest for anyone involved, and is something literal children do when they're upset.)

And if your experiences have led you to a point in life where you think it’s even remotely okay to follow people into their personal lives outside of tumblr; to harass them and their friends for the information you want to hear but refuse to believe anything else they say; and to then spread very personal information about them in a way that inherently exposes them to genuinely dangerous situations like transphobia and other stalkers, you absolutely need professional help. None of that is normal or healthy behavior, especially in the context of a hobby like tumblr rp.

I’ve never meant this more genuinely than right now, but please just step away from the computer or the phone for a while. Get some fresh air. Hang out with the people you love in real life outside of tumblr. Step out of the echo chamber for a while and gain some perspective on how important any of this really is. And if it is in fact as important to you as it seems here, then stop hurting yourself and others by turning it into a spectacle online. Go deal with that stuff in a safe, healthy space elsewhere, preferably with a professional who can help you through it.

#rpt #abuse discussion tw #this last week has really shown that people in the rpc have absolutely no clue what boundaries are for themselves or others #and that saying you're over 18 doesn't mean you act like an adult at all #this has literally turned into some high school burn book shit #unbelievable tbh but at the same time not surprising #starting to check out the rp tags again was a mistake I was so much happier just ignoring them all #breerps: opinion time

[projectcubicle1]

How to Build a Career in AI?

How to Build a Career in AI?

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Assemble a Portfolio

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Build a Powerful Resume

If your career goal is an AI-related position, be specific when constructing a resume. Hiring agents want to know the particulars about the classroom training and special coursework you've taken. Note whether the credits were within a formal degree program or not and remember to label each one.   Include common skills acquired along the way, like machine learning, programming languages, and AI-oriented projects. Note on the document that you have a portfolio available for viewing as well as several professional references. Do not supply prospective employers with portfolios or reference names unless they ask. No one, HR (human resources) people especially, wants to be inundated with information. If you make it far enough up the ladder of consideration, they'll ask for more data and documentation. Read the full article

[plan-d-to-i]

(google translate again, yeah)

(I forgot to thank you for the last answer, I really didn't know that the drama used the music of my compatriot, it was a pleasant surprise for me)

I don't know if anyone has asked you this before, but do you think JC was good with WWX as a kid?

I mean not just their childhood, but the time of their training in Gusu.

I really love JC, and I understand perfectly well that he is the most dick in character, but I love him precisely during my studies at Gusu, I can not give any arguments that then JC was directly GOOD to WWX, but he is clearly cared a little about him and even ... worried? at least that moment after the punishment where JC helped WWX get to the room...

Yay - I'm so happy to hear about Stravinsky :)

Hahah loving jc as the dick that he is is the way to do it! go for it. :) also, sorry this was so delayed I wanted to reread the Cloud Recesses arc so it would be fresh in my mind before answering.

In terms of jc the Cloud Recesses arc is perhaps the most 'mellow' we see him aside from the Lotus Pod Extra but for me it's still impossible to find him a worthwhile person. I can already see the faults in his character that I know will only get worse as he grows older. Canonically I don't see how he would have any friends studying in the Cloud Recesses if he didn't come as a package deal w Wei Wuxian. I mean I doubt jiang cheng would have any friends without WWX period. In fact jiang cheng doesn't make any friends over the course of 13 years. He's also unable to find a wife bc of his temperament and behavior...

What we can glean about their relationship in the Cloud Recesses arc (and even the Lotus Pod Extra) is that any time WWX gets a kind word or understanding from someone, jiang cheng scoffs at it. Any time someone shits on WWX, jc is there to agree, to relish the idea of WWX being punished, and shit on him some more. He would be an immensely exhausting person to be around. He doesnt believe in WWX's ideas and ingenuity, (as NHS does for example), he doesn't believe WWX is hurt, he always assumes the worst of him, he doesn't believe LWJ might like WWX. The only thing he ever seems to believe is that WWX will dishonor YunmengJiang and that WWX should be punished. So for a kid who supposedly wants his father's approval so badly he instead constantly acts like his mother's mouthpiece/minion. He reprimands WWX like he's trying to become Madam Yu 2.0. I see jc stans all the time being like oh he had to keep WWX in check bc WWX was such a lOOooose canon, for the good of the Clan!! lol listen JFM didn't give a f...about WWX's behavior (in his letter to LQR) why are you so concerned? JFM would have preferred for jc to try & save his peers in the Xuanwu cave or at least to understand why that was the correct course of action rather than for him to just sit in front of the class in the Cloud Recesses and tell WWX off for giving LQR as good as he got, while actually still breaking the rules himself but eschewing punishment.

salt up here, quotes below :

Even when Nie Huaisang picks up on the fact that WWX is being treated unfairly by LQR, jc dismisses it and piles on WWX instead.

Nie Huaisang said, “Old Man Lan really seems like he’s coming down especially harshly on you. Every time he reprimands someone, it’s always you.” Jiang Cheng grunted. “He deserves it. What kind of answer was that? He can get away with saying that sort of nonsense at home, but he had the nerve to say it to Lan Qiren’s face. He was practically asking for the old man to kill him!”

But does WWX get away with ANYTHING in Lotus Pier? When we know he is punished constantly for EVERYTHING? This is jiang cheng fully being his mother's mouth piece. It's not something WWX would get away with, it's something jc knows JFM wouldn't mind. Which is why he's so pissed off. Which begs the question if JFM would not be upset with WWX's behavior why does jc need to criticize him? Again :

A dark expression shadowed Jiang Cheng’s face, and his voice was filled with anger. “Why are you so proud of yourself? What is there to be proud of?! Is being told to get out some amazing accomplishment? You’re making our entire clan lose face!”

and his glee at the idea that WWX will be punished leaves a bad taste in one's mouth considering how WWX was perpetually punished in Lotus Pier by jiang cheng's mother for... existing.

Jiang Cheng smiled grimly. “Now that you’ve thoroughly offended both Lan Wangji and Lan Qiren, you’re basically dead tomorrow. No one’s going to clean up your corpse either.”

and again

Without the old one, only the young one remained. This would be easy to deal with! Wei Wuxian rolled off the bed and laughed while putting on his boots. “Heaven’s charmed clouds are blessing me with shade.” Jiang Cheng was beside him polishing his sword with loving care when he decided to spill cold water over Wei Wuxian’s head. “Just wait until he gets back. You can’t escape punishment.”

Where others like NHS see value in WWX's thoughts

Nie Huaisang thought for a while. “Actually, I thought what you said was very interesting,” he said, not entirely able to hide his envy and yearning.

jc is always dismissive of WWX's ideas. These are inventions that WWX realizes. Demonic cultivation in the first conversation and The Spirit-Attraction Flag and The Compass of Evil in the second:

“Enough,” Jiang Cheng warned. “Whatever nonsense you spout, you better not head down that sort of dark road.”

-

Changing the topic, Wei Wuxian said, “If only there was something like fishing bait that could draw the water ghosts in. Or, something that could point in the direction they’re hiding, like a compass, that sort of thing.”

“Lower your head and watch the water,” Jiang Cheng said. “You’re letting your fantasies run wild again. Concentrate on looking for water ghosts like you’re supposed to.”

“Hey, mounting swords and flying was also only a fantasy once!” Wei Wuxian said.

He's also a hypocrite. Because even though he berates WWX for misbehaving, he himself breaks the rules. He drinks, he even goads WWX into buying liquor, the only difference is that he doesn't get punished for it, and he doesn't feel like coming forward and getting punished for it :

Naturally, Jiang Cheng was too embarrassed to talk about what Wei Wuxian had been up to. After all, all of them had egged him on to go and buy alcohol, and they all deserved to be punished as well. He could only speak vaguely. “It’s nothing. It’s nothing. It’s not that bad! He can walk. Wei Wuxian, why haven’t you gotten off yet?”

It's no wonder WWX is so impressed by LWJ's integrity in spite of his social status, when he's clearly used to the other dynamic :

“Lan Zhan, I really admire you,” Wei Wuxian said sincerely. “After I told you that you had to punish yourself too, you actually did it. You didn’t let yourself off at all. I can’t argue against that.”

A dynamic which is shown repeating in the Lotus Pod Extra where WWX is the only one to get punished for sunbathing, and which repeats here when Wei Wuxian here stops jiang cheng from confronting Zixuan over YanLi's honor (and jc's) and does it himself.

Zixuan :“Why don’t you ask what about her could make me satisfied?” he said in return.

Suddenly, Jiang Cheng rose. Wei Wuxian pushed him away and stepped between them, smiling coldly. “You think you’re very satisfactory? As though you have the right to be so picky!”

Zixuan: “If she’s unhappy, then let her break off the engagement! I certainly don’t cherish your wonderful disciple-sister. If you cherish her so much, why don’t you take it up with your father? Doesn’t he love you more than his own son?”

After hearing the last sentence, Jiang Cheng’s eyes narrowed, and Wei Wuxian was no longer able to contain his own fury. He flew at Jin Zixuan, his fist raised.

WWX takes the punishment alone. Same way he offers to do when he hurts himself falling from a tree because jc threatened him with dogs. meanwhile jc is gleeful to see him being punished.

[Wei Wuxian] was kneeling on the stretch of pebble road to which Lan Qiren had assigned him when Jiang Cheng walked over from afar and mocked him. “You’re kneeling so obediently.”

“It’s not like you don’t know I have to do this all the time.” Wei Wuxian’s voice filled with schadenfreude. “But this Jin Zixuan guy, there’s no way he hasn’t been pampered and spoiled rotten since birth. No one’s ever forced him to kneel, I’m sure of it. If he doesn’t wind up crying for mommy and daddy today, I’m not named Wei.”....

Wei Wuxian "...It’s a good thing you didn’t do anything.”

“I was going to. If you hadn’t pushed me away, the other side of Jin Zixuan’s face would be hideous too.”

“Stop it. His face is uglier for being lopsided."

WWX is happy to have spared jc from getting into trouble but jc makes the whole thing about himself anyway (like everything else ever) and is upset JFM would rush over for WWX - in his mind. Even though JFM clearly had to rush over to meet with Jin Guangshan not to coddle WWX in any way.

"Jiang Fengmian had never rushed to another clan in less than a day because of him. Regardless of whether what happened was big or small, or good or bad." Never

WWX on the other hand tries to be observant of jc's feelings and reassure him & distract him from his moods :

When Wei Wuxian saw Jiang Cheng’s melancholy expression, he thought he was still upset with what Jin Zixuan said. “You should leave. You don’t need to keep me company any longer. If Lan Wangji comes again, he’ll catch you. If you have time, you should find Jin Zixuan and watch his pitiful kneeling.”

Later in the book after nearly dying in the Xuanwu cave WWX leaves his sick bed to run after jc and comfort him after his mother's rant, even though WWX had to listen to his parents (and himself) being slandered by YZY. jc doesn't spare any thoughts for how other people might be feeling or suffering. His entire perception of the world is centered around himself. To him even WWX's greatest fear doesn't generate empathy, only amusement or later on a form of torture.

From that point onward, they made trouble everywhere together, and if they encountered a dog, Jiang Cheng would always chase it away for him, then enjoy a peal of derisive, unbridled laughter at Wei Wuxian’s expense beneath whichever tree the boy had leapt atop.

he grew up on the streets, often having to fight for food with vicious dogs. After several bites and chases, he gradually became extremely scared of all dogs, no matter the size. Jiang Cheng laughed at him because of this quite a lot of times.

This brings me to the last point. jc's resentment of WWX's interest in Lan Zhan, or in a serious friendship outside of him. I see so many ppl say that bc WWX fought he was kicked out of the Cloud Recesses early... but was he?

Jiang Cheng was somewhat taken aback. “Lan Wangji? What was he doing here? He still has the nerve to come see you again?”

“Yeah, I think his bravery is laudable if he still has the nerve to come see me. His uncle probably told him to check on me and see if I was kneeling properly.”

Jiang Cheng’s instincts were sending him ominous signals. “So were you kneeling properly?”

“I was then,” Wei Wuxian replied. “But I waited for him to walk away a bit, then took a tree branch, lowered my head, and dug out a hole in the dirt near me. It’s the pile right by your foot—there are ant tunnels there. It took me so much effort to find them. Anyway, I waited for him to turn back and see my shoulders shaking. He had to have thought I was crying, so he came back and asked. You should have seen his face when he caught sight of the ant tunnels!

“…” Jiang Cheng said, “Why don’t you just get the hell out and go back to Yunmeng? I bet he never wants to see you again.”

Thus, that evening, Wei Wuxian packed up his things, got the hell out, and went back to Yunmeng with Jiang Fengmian.

Repeatedly throught his stay in the Cloud Recesses even while NHS was observing that LWJ's behavior around WWX was strange and unique, jc was telling WWX he is hated and bothersome. When WWX wanted to apologize to LWJ jc is completely dismissive of it :

“He hates me already? I was thinking of apologizing to him,” Wei Wuxian said.

“Oh, so you want to apologize now? It’s too late!” Jiang Cheng said derisively. “He’s exactly like his uncle. He thinks you’ve been wicked ever since you were an embryo, so it’s beneath his dignity to pay you any attention.”

Later on when WWX mentioned wanting to invite LWJ to Lotus Pier jc categorically says no.

“Jiang Cheng had on a stern expression, “Let’s make this clear. I don’t want him to come, anyhow. Don’t invite him.”

BONUS

jc also always doubts WWX. He suspects him immediately of wrongdoings. He doesn't believe that getting hit with the discipline ruler in Cloud Recesses actually hurt him until LXC confirms that WWX might take more than a few days to heal. He doesn't understand WWX is in actual trouble from the Waterborne abyss and assumes he's fooling around luckily Lan Zhan is there to rescue him:

The disciple’s lower body had already been swallowed by the black whirlpool. It spun faster and faster, and he continued to sink deeper and deeper, as though something hidden beneath the water was pulling down on his legs.

Mounted on Sandu, Jiang Cheng had risen calmly until he was about sixty meters above the whirlpool before he looked down. Filled with displeasure at what he saw, he shouted and dove down. “What are you up to now?!”

The suction force inside Lake Biling grew ever stronger. Wei Wuxian’s sword was optimized for agility, and consequently, its strength happened to fall just short, and they were nearly pulled to the surface of the lake. Wei Wuxian steadied himself and held on to Su She with both hands.

“Someone help! If I can’t pull him up soon, I’ll have to let go!” he shouted.

Suddenly, the back of Wei Wuxian’s collar tightened, and his body was lifted into the air. He twisted his neck and saw Lan Wangji holding him up with one hand.

He maintains this same mindset when he tries to whip LWJ and WWX as they're attempting to leave Lotus Pier after the ancestral hall confrontation when WWX passes out.

Is jc evil in the Cloud Recesses ? No. He's just an annoying, basic, disagreeable asshole who doesn't bring anything positive to someone like WWX. People like jc become obsessed with kind, outgoing, generous people, people who don't set boundaries on what they give and what others take in their friendships. Even though they're dependent on them for their social interactions, because who else would socialize with them willingly, they resent them in equal measure, but at the same time they wouldn't be drawn to another selfish, self centered piece of shit person like themselves.

On a personal note, even Cloud Recesses jiang cheng is someone I would exclude from any personal friend group. Friendship with him is adding a minefield of jealousies and snide comments to every interaction. Things that then others will need to compensate around because he won't compromise or empathize w issues outside of his own concerns.

Translation source : x

#This is long af because I wanted to have one post where I included everything #I’ve bitched about jc’s behavior in the cloud recesses for a long time so it was time to put down the quotes #mdzs #Cloud Recesses #Lan Wangji #Wei Wuxian #Nie Huaisang #jiang cheng

[tartagilicious]

sun and moon > xiao

happy (late-ish) valentine’s day yall! thank you, mihoyo, for once again reminding me that i’m easily attached to emotionally unavailable pretty boys. the "I hate everyone but you" trope is real here, I wanna be his friend and gain his trust like this is a mf otome game. to anyone still pulling for him, good luck~ don’t worry, you have a little bit more time and more free rewards are also on the way!! have some soft xiao for good luck >:D // w.c 1.9k // not a request 

also a big ty to @seerie​ for being my beta reader, bc I don’t know what I’m doing 🥴

summer sky by asking for a friend

You hiss softly as Xiao runs a damp cloth over the gash adorning the length of your cheekbone, face scrunching as his eyes narrow in concentration. It feels somehow wrong to have him taking care of you, much less sitting in front of you and dressing your wounds himself.

A majority of the bleeding had stopped not long ago, but there's still another fear that plagues you more -- your agreement with the yaksha adeptus, or rather contract, specifically trying to combat injuries on your behalf.

You aren’t sure if chickening out on calling him in the midst of the situation you were hurt is grounds for breaking the contract somehow, though either way, Xiao has always seemed to be quite serious regarding his promises. You remember his first and only instructions to you weeks ago being clear and concise,

“If you awake to a knife at your throat, if monsters dig their claws into you, if death comes knocking at your door, call out my name; adeptus Xiao. I will be here when you call.”

Surely a small wound like this wasn’t serious enough?

Xiao pulls the fabric away from your face and silently notes what must be the mess of blood covering it, lips turning up in a grimace. His standards of emergency are usually as one would expect, though lately for whatever reason, even the smallest of your wounds tend to put him in a bad mood.

From such a standoffish person, it’s a bit hard to get used to or understand -- but a part of you is only happy to know that there’s a chance he might care more than he lets on.

“...The abyss mages, they just came out of nowhere,” You try to explain but the silence is deafening. Eyes downcast to the stool beneath your legs, you mumble, “It’s not that big of a deal.”

Xiao doesn’t give any more of a reaction than an arched brow and a slight gesture with the gruesomely dyed cloth. You half expect him to be irritated; to give you a lecture on keeping an eye on your surroundings or to take better care of yourself, but he doesn’t. Instead, he looks away and shakes his head, spiking your nerves with a low sigh.

He looks back at you as he rests his elbow on his knee and thrusts out the cloth again, almost in exasperation. “Why didn’t you call my name?”

You feel the blood drain from your face as the words leave his mouth, and suddenly, you’re terrified to answer honestly. As already long-established, Xiao is someone who despite thousands of years of trauma, remains as hard as the rock of the nation he watches over. Compared to his lifespan, you’re relatively immature, so the last thing you want is to give an embarrassing reason to make him think that you suddenly don’t trust him enough to help.

“I-I don’t know,” You stutter and curse pitifully inside your head as you return his eye contact. “But I can’t just call you every time I’m in trouble, especially when I think I can deal with it myself, right?”

He scoffs as if you’ve just said the most ridiculous thing.

“This shouldn’t have to be a discussion. Your capabilities don’t lack anything, but your hesitation may very well be the death of you.”

“I never hesitated,” Though your voice is more steadfast, any illusion of confidence is shattered by the way you fidget with your hands. “I only misjudged. I make mistakes sometimes, but I think you forget that I’ll heal even after the worst of these injuries.”

Xiao sighs and crumples the bloodstained cloth in the palm of his hand, caging himself in his arms before speaking again -- just as he always does.

“Don’t be outrageous, I haven’t forgotten anything.” He averts his gaze and for a moment, you swear that you notice the tips of his ears flush. “It’s only ignorant to assume that I want to see you injured.”

Your brows knit as a similar knot slides down your throat. “I just, I just don’t get why you’re so worried about it.”

He stares at you, once again, as if you’ve just said something completely outlandish -- as if it wasn’t as hard to tell what he was thinking beneath such a guarded personality as you made it out to be.

“What?” You ask, slightly exasperated as you sit up straighter. You had still been sitting as if he were cleaning your wounds. “Is that not a valid question? It seems like you want nothing to do with anyone, but then turn around and worry when I’m hurt?”

“How could you do that and still not know why I hesitate to call for you?” Exasperated, you exhale and shut your eyes for a moment, deliberately avoid seeing his reaction to these words.

“...All I mean, is that sometimes it’s hard to tell what you’re thinking -- I feel like I’m bothering you, even if it might be in a situation where I really do need you.”

For a moment, Xiao is blatantly surprised by your reason for not upholding the contract you’d made. It almost gives you the impression that in your spiel, you’ve said something completely idiotic. A gradual flush of embarrassment flares up beneath your skin, but thankfully, you contain yourself before you have the chance to blurt out anything you’d regret.

His lips twist ever so slightly, as if he’s combing through things to respond with in his head. Obviously a bit flustered to hear your reasoning, it’s odd to see him in such a way, albeit while somehow remaining so uniquely him

“You… really are incomprehensible.”

Turning his head to shield his expression, he discards the cloth by tossing it in a nearby basket and stands. Your eyes follow him up until his own turn back towards you, golden irises glinting with a sort of hesitant concentration. You blink.

“If you trust me enough to enter a contract where i very well might decide between your life and death, do well and also trust me as someone who doesn’t break their promises.” Xiao’s brows fold delicately, as if mulling over the words coming out of hisin real time. “___, I don’t want to see you hurt like this.”

Your heartbeat briefly stutters, lips opening and closing as if to say something even when no thoughts are formed. Eyes trailing back down to your hands, you let out a small sigh. Before you can say anything, though, a gloved hand takes your chin and gently guides your eyes back upwards.

“So don’t hesitate.” His touch is soft as he maintains comfortable eye contact with you despite the straight-forward words. “I won’t allow you to die because of me.”

Blood pumps wildly through your ears as you suck in a breath of apprehension. As hard as you try to break away your gaze, something in his face keeps you anchored even when your chest begins to seize; a face that has been hardened over a millenia of suffering stares back at you with the improper care of a hopeful innocent, as if you are something that is worthwhile in the purest sense.

You swallow, Xiao’s hand’s position above your throat making it painfully obvious to him how caught off guard you are. Though naturally, if this action of yours makes him falter at all, he does so unnoticeably.

“I won’t,” It’s said slowly, as if you can’t comprehend what exactly you’re saying just yet. “You said I don’t lack anything, but in the moments I do--”

Your lips rest parted as anxiety cuts off the last part of your sentence, but Xiao’s patient expression pushes you forward.

“...I trust you to help me.”

Those words echo in his mind for a moment, ricocheting and hitting even the most unfamiliar parts of himself that he’d long buried. Feelings and memories that have since collected cobwebs begin to resurface and remind him of a more simple time he treasures dearly.

Trust.

Xiao’s thumb ghosts over your jaw, slowly wiping across the skin as he’s propelled deeply into thought -- fortunately too much so to notice the rising pigment on your cheeks.

He himself places his trust in people far and few. You might be different, well acquainted to human customs and the world around you, yet those words from you somehow feel just as special as if the roles are reversed. Your honesty and courage to accompany him has always dug at the cavity in his chest, but to hear you voice the metaphorical fruit of your labour so clearly is an entirely different sense.

All this time he’d blindly protected you, warned you about monsters lurking in the darkness, he’d fallen too far to even realise that you were beginning to change him. He no longer ate alone, nor did he adventure or sleep as he once did -- you had stuck onto him like a stubborn thorn despite, in your words, tending to feel as if you were bothering him. Regardless, he had somehow still earned your valuable companionship, and with it, commendable words that he could accept from you alone.

But there were times where he despised feeling such a way. He battled over the reasons he felt so inflicted when it was you who was injured, or you who chose to stick by him even after he tried so desperately to push you away. It was frustrating, dealing with a gentle care so foreign. Once he was used to your considerate nature, though, it became a different story.

Seeing you hurt began to shift from an expectable casualty to a blow to his own chest.

“...Xiao,” Your voice is hesitantly quiet, and suddenly, his eyes come back into focus. You’re staring at him with hesitant concern, setting his heart abuzz. “Are you okay?”

It’s when you reach up to wrap your hand around his that his mind finally completes his thought.

I love her.

As an Adeptus, he’s lived thousands of lives and outlived many more, and has taken the role of slaughterer before protector throughout many of them. In a way, the latter ways of his previous life have been ingrained him, regardless of those he manages to save in the more current centuries.

He imagines the figures of the spirits of those he’d wronged watching him in this moment, screaming a sound of contempt that he would never hear. They’re right to do so. They have no reason to pray for his happiness, much like he has little reason to pray for forgiveness.

Yet looking down at you, for the first time in a long time, none of that seems to matter.

With little thought, he grips your hand a bit tighter before letting go, his own hand travelling the length of your jaw to bring himself down to you. You remain completely still as he places a gentle kiss above your brow bone, breath hitching.

“I’m okay.” He reassures you quietly, resting there for a moment and sighing a small gust of air onto your skin. You mumble his name softly, hand reaching out to grab a hold of his shirt. The thin layer between your skin and his sends a sudden shiver down his spine, but regardless, he hums in response.

Your voice comes out in a whisper. “Are you sure?”

He nods, for the first time completely certain.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact xiao #genshin impact imagine #xiao x reader #genshin impact xiao x reader #xiao imagines #genshin impact fanfic

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Michael After Midnight: Crimson Peak

Guillermo del Toro really knows what I specifically want to see. Giant robots fighting monsters? Woman on sexy fish guy action? Weird fucked up fleshy creature with eyes on his hands? Ron Perlman? He really can do it all, and do it all well! Of course, even a filmmaker like him has to stumble sometime, and Crimson Peak has to be that stumbling point, because it was a critically reviled flop, right? Well, no. It was divisive, but critics did tend to like it and lavish praise upon the visuals and performances. And box office numbers are literally meaningless when it comes to telling the quality of a film. The bigger stumbling block this movie had is that it is a ghost story, and I tend to find ghost stories one of the most lackluster and tedious kinds of horror film.

I did not find this movie tedious or lackluster, far from it. It was predictable as hell, but a bad time it was not.

This is del Toro taking a crack at Gothic horror, and as one should expect from the man he absolutely nails the style faithfully. The costumes, the setting, the cinematography, the fucked up and creepy ghosts, the themes… This movie is just visually perfect in every single way. This is to Gothic horror what Sleepy Hollow was to Hammer horror, a wonderful and faithful love letter to a style that emulates it while adding all the power of modern filmmaking to polish that style to perfection.

Of course, this is also where the major criticism comes in. This is a very faithful take on themes of Gothic horror, to the point where you can quickly and easily guess exactly where the plot is going a short time into the movie. You are likely not going to be surprised by a single thing here, unless of course this is your first Gothic horror story. It’s just extremely formulaic to the point of hilarity at times. Like, from the get go you can tell Thomas and Lucille are up to something, this is hardly a spoiler because we get a lot of scenes telegraphing that there is something shady about them, and if you know the way these sort of stories go… well, let’s just say they’ve got ghosts in their basement and flowers in their attic, if you catch my drift. This is definitely not a film that’s going to have you on the edge of your seat guessing what will happen next.

But for me, I didn’t mind. I like these themes, I like this subject matter, I like the atmosphere and costumes and the style! And most of all, I like the antagonists; they are by and large the best and most sympathetic characters in the movie, to the point where I really just wanted things to turn out okay for them even as things were spiraling out of control. They’d suffered horribly and I just wanted them to catch a break, but alas, that’s not this kind of story. I honestly found them more compelling and likable than our lead, who while perfectly fine in her own right is a little bit too vanilla in comparison. I definitely cared about her and wanted her to survive, but I didn’t feel as strongly for her as the antagonists.

This movie had the misfortune of being followed up by The Shape of Water, and it’s definitely living in the shadow of that film, but I still think this is some of del Toro’s best and most underrated work. In that regard, it is also like Sleepy Hollow, which is some of Burton’s best work and yet is rarely talked about compared to his other works. If you like Gothic horror, this is the film for you, and if you’re in the mood for a good ghost story there’s no better place to look. It’s not a perfect film, and if you’re looking for something that takes a bit more risks with the conventions of a genre this isn’t really going to work for you, but I think the look and feel of this movie make it worthwhile no matter what.

And hey, whatever else your feelings on this movie may be, at least we can agree on one thing: It’s not fucking Mimic!

#Michael after midnight #review #movie review #Crimson Peak #Guillermo del Toro #tom hiddleston #jessica chastain #gothic horror

[quixoticanarchy]

Hope, but not to save the world

[ @gariboth asked me something along these lines a while ago and it has been fermenting in my mind so. a whole slew of thoughts on hope and the grim relevance of LOTR ]

I think there’s a particular quality to how hope functions in Tolkien’s work that keeps it uniquely compelling: yes, stubborn hope against terrible odds is worthwhile, and that’s heartening, but what strikes me more is that at the same time, even a “victory” is never the same as fixing or saving. There is incalculable loss even in the best-case scenario, and the world that comes after you will be changed forever no matter the outcome of your efforts. The world that you have known is always ending, and it cannot forcibly be kept alive.

We see this repeatedly: “I do not believe that the world about us will ever again be as it was of old” (Haldir); “None may live now as they have lived, and few shall keep what they call their own” (Aragorn). You cannot save the world as it is, but you might preserve the possibility that there will be a world, of what kind you cannot know.  

In counterpoint you have Denethor, lamenting the failing West, declaring “I would have things as they were in all the days of my life... and in the days of my long-fathers before me.” And then, “if doom denies this to me, then I will have naught.” He clings to an order already passing, deciding that if nothing but dark futures lie ahead, he would rather die with the old world than live to see the new - of either Sauron’s or Gandalf’s design. Idealizing the past, trying to keep the present on life support, and imagining the future utterly hopeless (or as utopian, I would say) - none of these are good ways to live with the world. The clearest alternative, I think, is Gandalf’s counsel in The Last Debate: “It is not our part to master all the tides of the world, but to do what is in us for the succour of those years wherein we are set, uprooting the evil in the fields that we know, so that those who live after may have clean earth to till. What weather they shall have is not ours to rule.”

This dovetails well with the theme of characters/peoples considering the options open to them, and deciding that no matter the cost, inaction for fear of losing what they have is worse than the outcomes of their choices. Galadriel and the Elves, choosing to fade and lose the power of the three Elven rings; Treebeard and the Ents acknowledging that “likely enough that we are going to our doom: the last march of the Ents. But if we stayed at home and did nothing, doom would find us anyway, sooner or later.” Gandalf in the Last Debate: “And better so than to perish nonetheless - as we surely shall, if we sit here - and know as we die that no new age shall be.”

This all hits especially hard in these times, I think, because we at a global level are staring down a future that - unless you are capable of significant fantastical thinking - does not look bright. We are on track to hit worst-case climate scenarios, inviting cascading ecological catastrophes. We are witnessing rising right-wing fascism, racism, nationalism, xenophobia, and militarism on a global scale. State violence bothers with less and less pretense. For many of us in younger generations, a stable or bright future is a laughable fantasy. We know we are living in a world that cannot be saved.

If we look for an optimistic or “saved” future to pin our hopes on, we are hard-pressed to come up with one. But if we acknowledge that any path forward involves tremendous loss and suffering, and that we do not know where we will end up, for better and for worse, we can recognize that action is nonetheless a choice left to us, and preferable to its alternative. This is not an argument for lesser evilism, but for imagining beyond whatever grim evils we seem to be bound for - refusing to believe that all options have been foreseen and determined, all paths set, all possibilities foreclosed. Weighing the current moment and the choice to act, with fool’s hope, without expectations or an end in sight.

“The counsel of Gandalf was not founded on foreknowledge of safety, for himself or for others... There are some things that it is better to begin than to refuse, even though the end may be dark” (Aragorn). Dark as in terrible, ruinous - maybe, but also dark as in unknown. You must let the world end, and you must hold space for the futures that come to contain possibilities unknown.

#this got long #i knew there was a reason i wrote down quotes while reading #wrote this instead of my thermodynamics homework but ehh #lord of the rings #tolkien #tolkien meta #hope #lotr #skravler

[spade-riddles]

Submission: Adjusting expectations

Okay, guys. Wading in here where it’s possible no-one wants me, but … here goes. 

We - Kaylors - are in a hard place right now. People feel hurt, they feel hopeless. They feel like they were led on by the likes of Spade. I’m not here to invalidate any of the feelings that come from seeing Karlie and Taylor play out this charade.  

But I think we (collectively, as a fandom) need to take a breath and ask if any of this is really as bad or unfixable as we think it is. Because, for me, the recent stunting is hard to stomach but not truly surprising. On some level this is how I expected Karlie and Taylor to handle both the birth of the baby and the launch of the rerecorded albums. As much I wanted to believe in the idea of spring breaking loose and bringing with it a fervent revolution … I could see the pieces still in play on the board and I doubted it was coming. 

I think the problem is that there was a split between the optimist and pragmatist sides of the fandom, over the last year or so. To be clear - I’m not judging the optimist side of the fandom. Not at all. Taylor has pulled wildcard moves before, and emotions run so high in all this, especially with a baby involved now, that I don’t blame people for wanting to believe the best. But it reached a stage where some of the things people were trying to talk themselves into were just wildly unrealistic. And when that happens, of course you’re going to get hurt. It’s inevitable. 

But let’s really look at this for a second. We should have known that neither Karlie nor Taylor was going to be shaving her beard in March. Ditching Jerk right after or just before the birth would have been too soon for Karlie. It’s not unusual for a celeb marriage to fizzle out within a year of the birth, but before the baby even arrives? That would be weird, and would draw attention just when it seems Kaylor don’t want it. They just had a baby. That’s an adjustment in itself, and Karlie is suffering enough social media hate on top of that. I wouldn’t blame her for just wanting to take a break and lie low during this difficult time. And unfortunately, for Karlie, that means maintaining the status quo of the situation she put herself in with Jerk. She may be doing the bare minimum to maintain it, but if she wants to avoid attention, she has to make it seem like everything between her and her “husband” is normal. And that she’s trying to make it work, which I believe will be important later. Good people try to make it work, even in bad relationships. 

Toe wasn’t going anywhere either. Taylor had relied on him so heavily during the promotion of Folklore, with the William Bowery narrative, that she was almost backed into a corner. She had to give some allusion to his air quotes “creative input” and their so-called happy relationship, or her failure to do so would have become the story and overshadowed her night. The headlines would have either been break-up speculation or complaints that she didn’t give him his due. We think the cutesy coverage after she named him in her acceptance speech was bad, but negative headlines have a far longer shelf life and can take on a life of their own. They would have been worse. Whatever we might think of Taylor’s actions, Folklore is one of her best albums and she deserved to have her night. 

So, on to the announcement of the birth. This is a tricky one, and again, I completely understand why people reacted so badly against it. It was everything we as a fandom said we didn’t want. It was Jerk using the baby for personal good PR. But I have to be honest here. I always thought we were kidding ourselves believing he would NEVER be seen with the baby or implied to be the father. I do believe Karlie is doing her damnedest to minimize the digital footprint of his involvement and keep her actual baby out of it. But he was always going to get to bask in the glow of playing daddy for a while. It’s the trade off Kaylor made when they used him to shore up their closet. 

This is also why I increasingly suspect the timing of the announcement got the green light from Kaylor too. If Jerk was always going to be assumed to be the father of Karlie’s baby, then there was always going to have to be a birth announcement that incorporated him somehow - unless the girls were ready to answer awkward questions, and it doesn’t seem like we’re there yet. So the best way to minimize the damage is to have his moment of glory overshadowed by a bigger win for Taylor. It worked pretty well actually. Even on Kaylor blogs the stunt was mostly buried by Taylor content.

I know a lot of fans feel gaslit by all the hints, but I do think there’s a possibility Taylor really didn’t grasp how hurt Kaylors would be. From her perspective, she “fed” fans three times over that night. She gave us a beautiful performance, a gorgeous red carpet moment, and a win to celebrate. I think it’s possible she really didn’t realize the double whammy of stunting that night would make it all feel worthless for many.

Taylor is in an awkward position. As a consequence of Kaylor retreating into the closet, the support base for them has shrunk. (When I use the words “Kaylor fandom”, I refer to this support base.) I would say Kaylor fandom consists of two parts. There is a silent portion, who observe events and comment anonymously, but don’t say anything “on main”. And then there are the small corps of true believers, who think Karlie and Taylor are still together and the baby is theirs. This latter group do most of the actual talking about Kaylor, but they tend to be pretty battle-hardened. They’ve been around for years, they never believe any of the stunts and their capacity to be hurt by them is, as a result, pretty limited. These Kaylors criticize sometimes, but they tend to fall back in line eventually and mostly adopt a “let’s wait and see how this all shakes out” approach. The problem is that I would say these “chilled” Kaylors are the minority. For their own sanity they curate their blog experience and often don’t post the more negative anons they get. Which is fine, but if you were looking at it from the outside, I could see how it might create an impression that the fandom as a whole can roll with the punches. And for a lot of the silent majority, that’s not the case. 

But again, I can see how Taylor might not necessarily know that. She went quiet after the Grammys, when I might have expected more celebratory posts from her. If I had to guess, I’d say she didn’t expect the backlash. I’m especially noticing a backlash against her for allowing Karlie to take so many hits while her own reputation has never been better. And I can’t defend her on that one, except to say I hope she has a plan. But I understand where people are coming from when they say the songs aren’t enough and actions speak louder than words. It’s tough to watch. 

Still, we’re in a position we should realistically have been able to see coming. We should have known Jerk wasn’t going to be out of the picture immediately after the birth. This is one of those things nobody likes, but maybe we all just have to be patient on. I don’t see Karlie busting out of the closet to admit her marriage was a fake, or testifying to the FBI. I think she’ll just let her marriage quietly fall apart, as many real marriages did during the pandemic. And for that to work, she needs to make it look like didn’t throw away a family unit lightly. Hence the “I tried” post, the social media break, and the suggestions of spending time with Jerk’s family. All of this can be spun later into a narrative of Karlie having tried to make it work, only to never really be accepted. The hate online affected her mental health and she gradually realized how unhappy she’d become and decided she needed to break free and find her old self again for her baby’s sake. This is the most likely narrative for Karlie’s freedom and it’s one that could work - but it’s going to take time to unfold. Personally, I’m giving it a year. If we don’t see a separation by then, and definitive moves to a reunited Kaylor, I’ll be bowing out. I’ll still know what I believe the truth to be, but I won’t see the need to devote my energy to defending it. ,

Meanwhile, the masters rerecords are about to be released, and Taylor has invested a lot in their success. Because of this, I can’t envision her coming out until at least the big three (Fearless, 1989, and Red) have dropped. She might drop hints, but I don’t expect anything earth-shattering. Even the order of the album releases seems to confirm this. She’s breaking out the big guns first. 

I’ve seen people speculate that because Rep can’t be rerecorded until 2022, Taylor will hold off on any coming out until then. And I’m not so sure of that. Yes, people listening to the album for clues would give Scott and Scooter money, but if we’re being honest, a fair amount of people are probably listening to those albums already, regardless of the drama. Those sleazeballs are profiting from Rep, full stop. But if Taylor profits more, from her bigger albums, she still wins. And she can still put out a Taylor’s version of Rep with vault tracks and collabs, to seduce people away from the Big Machine version in early 2022. Honestly, I think there’s a good chance Taylor would consider this is a worthwhile trade-off anyway, if it meant she got to live a more open life with Karlie - and most crucially, begin to repair Karlie’s reputation. As children get older and the world begins to leave the pandemic behind, it becomes harder to live behind closed doors. I guess we’ll find out how Taylor finds the reality of such a life, and what she considers worth sacrificing to step away from it. 

All this to say: I can’t predict the future more than anyone else, but I don’t think the situation we’re in now is irreparable, and if we’re being really objective, I don’t think it’s even surprising. I do think Taylor should give us something, if she wants to keep us around. No-one can live on a complete absence of hope, and as I’ve stated, letting the fandom dwindle to this extent has its own dangers. But I think we also need to keep our time frames realistic, even if it means rejecting lifelines like the Spade riddles. We shouldn’t expect Karlie to be free of Jerk for around a year, and we shouldn’t expect Taylor to do anything much beyond general music promo until at least the big three have dropped. Sucks to say it, I know. But at least this way we won’t be disappointed, and if Kaylor do pull a wild card and move towards freedom, we can be pleasantly surprised. 

Just my two cents. 

___________________

Well written and fair arguments on our reactions and expectations. I had typed up more, but I will let others post their comments before I chime in.

[nikadoesanart]

Will Jouno assist Fukuchi?

In ch 92, Fukuchi shows Bram to Jouno (though I'd say introduce would be a better way to describe it cause Jouno's blind but minor inconsequential details) and reveals that he is the mastermind behind the Agency being framed and asks Jouno to help him. Personally, I think that Jouno is just a bit more likely to form some kind of alliance with Fukuchi but not necessarily a full-on partnership, much less to the point where it'd be considered working more with Fukuchi as Kamui of the DOA than helping Fukuchi as Fukuchi himself or as the commander of the HD.

Also, I am using @buraihatranslations translation of ch 92, so that's where my exact phrasing for quotations and page counts are coming from. You can read the full translation here.

The main context of our focus

“I’m the mastermind. Jouno, wouldn’t you like to assist me?” (p 19)

For starters, I don’t think Fukuchi is being a reckless idiot for saying this. Considering that he's literally Kamui, he obviously must’ve considered this as a calculated but worthwhile risk to take. As I’ve previously mentioned in my ch 89.5 cover art analysis, Jouno is the most on the fence of the HD in terms of supporting Fukuchi vs believing in the Agency’s innocence. In fact, as we learned in 92, he simply doesn’t care and can therefore be considered a (nearly) neutral party. Jouno is also basically a living breathing lie detector, so he can tell apart the likes of jokes and lies from the truth very easily. Jouno also cares primarily about being able to hear his victim’s suffering, regardless of who’s right or wrong or innocent or guilty (as he’s told Aya). It logically just makes the most sense for Fukuchi to try to get Jouno on his side out of all the HD because :

Teruko is a simp for Fukuchi but she still cares about civilians and being able to take pride in her job as an officer (Sky Casino)

Tachihara has already clearly established his doubts in the ADA being guilty in front of all of the HD (ch 89) and told Fukuchi that he sees himself as more Mafia than HD now (ch 89.5)

Tecchou has a very strong sense of justice and cares about fairness, so asking him to quite literally join the side of the terrorists would never work out and would essentially be a waste of both time and possibly personnel too

What does Jouno personally want?

As I've already briefly touched on (and presumably you already read ch 92 before this), Jouno has already stated his goals, which gives us a good sense of where he stands morally.

“I just want to hear the voice of someone’s suffering.” (p 9)

“To hurt people under the name of the law[,] corner them and hear their “sound” as they break.” (p 10)

Now that we’ve more than established that Jouno is in fact, a sadist, I do want to emphasize Jouno’s mention of the law. Not only does he enjoy making people suffer (specifically psychologically, as he’s mentioned before), but he specifically mentions that he wants to do it “under/in the name of the law”, meaning that he likely either only wants to do it in a “justifiable”/“excusable” way or that he doesn’t want or plan to be held accountable for his actions (or worse, both). Until we get a backstory reveal, there could be any number of reasons for him being this way. I think it’s fairly likely that he’s from a similar situation to Fukuchi (took part in the Great War, and the mental scarring of everything he experienced then caused him to find some sort of extreme and inhumane goal or enjoyment to cope with it all). So for example, he could have been drafted for the War because he’s an ability user (or maybe he already happened to be in some sort of training where he received recognition for his skills, ie. the military academy or part of a renowned dojo) and eventually that led him to become a sadist because coping mechanism or discovering that he’s a sadist because of some extreme circumstances (ie. having to interrogate a prisoner for the first time and realizing how much he enjoyed giving and hearing the psychological torture).

Example of Jouno's excuses and justification

“I was just asking suspects for cooperation!”

“Then do it after they sign the consent form for judicial transaction. Otherwise, it’s not justice.” (p 12)

On one hand, we have Jouno who is very quick to make excuses for his actions by using his position as an officer to justify his behavior. Despite knowingly and intentionally using extreme measures, beyond what's necessary for the situation, he's using the law and his job to try to justify it. (If you're seeing some real-world parallels here, good job!)

On the other hand, we have Tecchou who very clearly values actual justice that is fair to all parties (as we’ve seen previously with him promising the cafe owner that the ADA will get a fair trial at the very least in ch 72). In fact, I think it’d be safe to say that Tecchou is the one that values impartial justice and fairness the most out of the HD, but that's not the focus here.

Parallelisms and which other organizations would suit him and his goals

(p 15-16)

For starters, Jouno appears to be on the side that believes that the ADA is a part of/affiliated with the DOA (if I’m not reading this wrong)

Also, I’d like to highlight him saying:

“ ‘Our tastes match’, if I should say. The abusive nature. To be honest, I’m almost empathetic. If we happen to lose this battle, I wouldn’t mind reemploying to their side. Not to say that we wouldn’t possibly lose.”

Jouno has no doubt in the strength of the HD but also just wants to be on the abusively cruel side dishing out the suffering. If he’s able to use his position to excuse his actions (ie. what he said about Aya just a few pages ago), then that’s even better for him. The ADA has an ability permit and currently ⅓ of the police force is siding with them and believes in their innocence. Joining the ADA next, should the HD lose, would be the most advantageous for him, if the allegations of them being abusively cruel terrorists were true.

In my opinion, his actual next best organization to join, based on his interests and goals so far as well as his own methods, would be the PM. They have an ability permit too and he’d have just as many chances to be either on the front lines and/or work with the interrogation team. With what his goals has revealed about his moral code, he’s just more cut out for the nature and surface level goals of the PM than the ADA. In fact, Dazai has already admitted to the two of them being alike (which we as the readers can deduce is for their methods in manipulation and interrogation) and Dazai has previously mentioned that he’d sometimes have to come in and help Kouyou’s interrogation team with the job (ch 19). Jouno joining the PM could be a very easy transition, should he stop caring about doing things “under the name of the law” (p 10). However, there is a loophole with the PM being a part of the tripartite tactic, of which the whole goal is to protect Yokohama. Both we as the readers and the members of the ADA know that despite their methods, the PM does in fact care about upholding the overall peace and safety of Yokohama. The reason why he jokes about joining the ADA and makes no mention of the PM (at least in my opinion), is because before all of this, to the public eye, the ADA was one of the “good guys” that were upholding the law whereas the PM is quite literally the mafia. (I touch on this part too in my ch 89.5 cover art analysis.)

Back to answering Fukuchi's question now

I feel like Jouno is ever so slightly more likely to form some kind of alliance with Fukuchi as Kamui but not straight up joining the DOA/allying with the DOA as a whole because again, Jouno is very much sadistic but he also specifically tells Aya (a possible hostage and a confirmed supporter of the ADA) that he specifically wants to “to hurt people under the name of the law” (p 10). Fully siding with the DOA and Kamui would mean that he’d no longer be working under the protection of the law, by any extent, unless Fukuchi were to create some kind of excuse as the commander of the HD (ie. Jouno was under the control of the vampirism). He might work with Fukuchi but I don’t think he’d work with or for Kamui. Either way, I think that overall it’s a very close tie.

In short:

If he says yes then he’d risk not having the law to protect him any longer, which is a part of what he clearly wants to have. The only way around this is some sort of agreement where Fukuchi will create a believable excuse for Jouno helping or he does it in a very indirect way that won't be noticed by others or can easily be played off as some sort of coincidence.

If he says no, he’d likely have to go up against Fukuchi and Bram and risk getting turned as well. I doubt he’d be killed since that would raise too many questions with Tecchou and Teruko, and thanks to Tachihara’s fight, I’d say it’s all been explicitly stated that still being alive is a part of the requirements to be turned into a vampire. When Tachihara tried to off himself as a last resort, specifically to stop Fukuchi and Bram from turning him into a vampire, Fukuchi personally prevented that from happening (ch 90).

Jouno has established that he just wants to hear the sound of people suffering (which Fukuchi would probably have learned of or figured out by now, considering that he’s the commanding officer here), which can be achieved from quite literally any side. However, his condition to this is doing it "under the name of the law", so being on a side that has the law’s protection and works on the front lines is where he’d be closest to achieving this with minimal risk (so realistically the HD or ADA). I doubt Jouno would have any interest in joining the Special Division because I doubt he’d get to do much interrogating or front-line work there, in addition to him having less of an excuse for his cruel methods, and I've already gone over why he'd rather join the ADA than the PM.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd analysis #bsd spoilers #bsd theories #bsd jouno #bsd 92 #bsd chapter 92

[agent-cupcake]

i’m interested to know your take on non-AM felix. ever since i read “epitaph,” it’s kind of made me fall down a rabbit hole of reading his character analyses from different routes, and i find it quite scary that i didn’t really consider how much of his characterization changes in such a negative way (to quote something i saw on reddit, he “failed to become a better person,” “was swallowed up by his own demons,” and “literally becomes a boar, mirroring dimitri” THAT AND i haven’t played anything besides azure moon LOL). also? it’s kind of even inspired me to possibly brainstorm something for a CF!felix/reader where the reader is with him every step of the way when byleth recruits both felix and you, and it turns into some “i can save him” type shit as you watch him spiral downwards because i’m still a sucker for cliche stuff like that!!!! thx

Non-Azure Moon Felix is a tragedy. The comment, “literally becomes a boar, mirroring Dimitri” is absolutely the sum of my opinion on what happens to him.

Hot take: Felix has a primary character personality and arc and should be integrated into the Azure Moon story but cannot be by the nature of the game which is a huge and tragic missed opportunity. Felix’s character and story importance to Azure Moon is not insignificant. He is the one who sets the tension about Dimitri initially and acts as the constant “moral” rebuff to Dimitri’s actions, the only one willing to call Dimitri out for his behavior. I’d say that his story role is far more worthwhile than Gustave’s in many ways. It’s a shame that he and Dimitri didn’t interact more after Rodrigue’s death. In general, I feel the story dropped off significantly at that point, and Felix clearly suffers for it. However, what is clear is that Dimitri’s recovery is similarly a turning point for Felix getting closure. Not because of Dimitri himself, not exclusively, but what his recovery represents for the team, for Faerghus, and the ideals that Felix has violently rejected for so long. Dimitri shaking off the ghosts, reclaiming the throne, and leading the team to victory is the validation of Felix’s actions and the patriotism he’s doubted so much. It allows him to come to terms with the dead himself. Not through rejection, but by accepting Glenn and Rodrigue’s legacy as his own. When he does that, he’s able to forge a path to a brighter future, find his own family, and, more importantly, something to live for other than the pursuit of strength. He accepts that people are more important than strength and that it’s okay to care. In Azure Moon, all of Felix’s endings have him staying with his paired partner and keeping a close and loving relationship with them.

In Azure Moon, we see the Felix who overcame his internal demons and accepted himself as he is, a caring and emotional person with an awful lot of baggage. This is a Felix who decided it was okay to love and be loved, who respects the sacrifices of the dead rather than scorning them for their foolishness. This is a Felix who is shown that he matters as an individual in his entirety. This is the Felix who no longer views ideals as inherently wrong, but is able to form a middle ground in order to understand the people he loves. He even accepts some of them, notably seen in how he stays and serves Dimitri while repairing Fraldarius territory in most of his endings, proving his loyalty. Not empty loyalty to the crown, but to a man he’s worked to understand. In summation, this is a Felix who overcame his trauma.  

If Felix chooses to leave the Kingdom, he is submitting himself to the painful path he put himself on after Glenn’s death. A path of rejecting his family, friends, and country. In short, rejecting himself as he is in favor of the man he believes he should be, a man who is strong and unyielding and does not compromise for the sake of ideals or allow himself to be unnecessarily sentimental. Felix abandoning the Kingdom is the ultimate showcase of his destructive dogma: strength above all. By taking part in the war against the Kingdom, Felix is proving to himself that unwavering and absolute might is more valuable than relationships, loyalty, and family. Not only is it more valuable, but it is also the only thing that is actually effective. By switching sides and figuratively killing the sensitive, childish side of himself, Felix is brought to understand that it’s all meaningless. Hopes and dreams and ideals and everything else is impotent in the face of military might, to feel those things in the first place was a display of weakness. Glenn truly died for nothing, there is no such thing as a true knight, no reason to waste your life for a cause which surely won’t reward you. Rodrigue believed in such foolish values, chivalry and loyalty, and he dies like the old fool Felix accused him of being. Everything Dimitri felt and thought and believed meant nothing because he died, too. As a beast, no less, validating everything Felix ever hated and was terrified of about a person he once adored. He never gets closure with Dimitri, never is able to come to terms with what happened to him.

And through all of this rejection of self, Felix proves to himself that he is not valuable as an individual. The only aspect of himself that is worth anything is his strength, that is his singular point of individuality. There is no reason to form strong emotional relationships, no reason to serve anybody or anything. He roams around without purpose, killing because that’s all he really knows. Some of his endings seem to portray him as happier, or at least give a more hopeful outlook about his life, but I think that’s more of a broken man making the most out of his life. Not because he’s actually moved on or dealt with his trauma, but because he’s got nothing else. Although, I have to point out that it’s also obviously because we have to have nice ship bait in the endings because God forbid a mostly serious game about war forgets to pander and not give the drooling masses a happy ending. Not to say that I’d prefer he suffer his entire life, but it definitely cheapens the experience when his potential happiness has no context other than a single line. That said, his non-Azure Moon solo ending as well as the ones with Dorothea and Sylvain are the ones I feel work the best.

To tie this all up, let’s jump back to something I mentioned above as well as an aspect of “Epitaph” I really tried to highlight, Felix’s lack of closure with Dimitri is what ultimately ruins him. Dimitri is the most important turning point of his recovery in Azure Moon, so it makes sense that his death would have the opposite effect by changing him into an isolated, bitter person who kills without remorse and represses his emotions, even running from them. Felix becomes haunted by his actions and betrayal and by the constant question of why it wound up like this, all the while hating himself for feeling this way because he knows such questions are pointless. It’s a feedback loop of self hatred and violence because he knows nothing else, because he has nothing else. No place to go, nowhere to belong. The fear he expressed about what would become of him when there were no longer any battles to be fought is validated and he’s left hollow.

So, those are my thoughts on Felix. With that fic… Are you proposing an angst-ridden tragedy of trying to save Felix from himself only to realize it’s like blowing into a hurricane and falling further and further into the despair of watching sweet, beloved Felix succumb to his worst self? Because… yum…. I’m on board.

#immaeterial #felix hugo fraldarius #fe felix #fe3h #fire emblem three houses #headcanons

[notsosilentsister]

Green Knight Spoilers

My friend didn't find the ending ambiguous at all. She was disappointed to hear that in the poem, Gawain definitely survives; she found that a cop-out, less true to life. In life, honor is rarely rewared, you can be honest and suffer, or lie and feel guilty. I can see her point -  virtue has to be its own reward, and if the Green Knight is Nature, well, Nature is merciless. Play stupid games, win stupid prices, why should Gawein survive his stunt? He's not the only boy out for glory - we already met the other ones as corpses on the battlefield.

If the Green Knight is not primarily a symbol of Nature (and how could he be? He is also Bertilac, the hunter, as opposed as he's aligned to it), however, he is - and I think the poem supports that reading - mostly just a regular guy enchanted by Morgan (not Gawain's mom in the poem) to mess with the knights and freak out Guinevere. And then, well, there's just no reason for him to kill Gawain. It is, after all, just a game; there's nothing to gain from Gawain's death; the point is to humble the knights, and stop them from buying into their own hype too much; Gawain needs to see that he's not quite as brave as he wants to appear. If I set out to humble someone, I'd like to get to enjoy their new-found humility in action; killing them right after seems a waste of my efforts. Nature doesn't care about honesty, people occasionally might.

When I read the story before, I lowkey always rooted for Gawain to cheat. I'm not very much one for dying for honor. Sacrificing yourself so that someone else may live, sure, I will admire that, but sacrificing yourself for your self-image? (And be it your self-image in your own eyes only, I actually don't even think the distinction matters all that much here). I found the beheading game exceedingly stupid, accepting the challenge was already the first mistake, but not necessarily one that merits getting killed for.

Of course that's just because I would never have accepted the challenge, I've never pretended to that sort of courage Gawain wants to project. It's a slightly more interesting challenge, if you understand the assignment - not a test of mettle but a trust-fall exercise. Can you see someone's vulnerability and not exploit that? Can you trust that they won't exploit yours in turn? Can you take the stranger at his word, that he's not seeking a foe? It's a game to test a lover, not a fighter.

Of course that's not how Gawain understands it - the film makes it very obvious that he doesn't; he freaks out, when the Green Knight makes no move to attack him, lays down his weapon, bares his neck - that's no way to find out who's the better fighter, and what other point could there be?

In the poem, it's less clear - maybe Gawain gets it, maybe he's just not here for it, maybe he's trying to be clever about it in an Alexander-just-smashing-the-knot way. And, fair enough, I wouldn't be too keen on doing trust-fall exercises with some rando coming in from the street to crash the party - like, maybe let's start with some small talk, get to know each other first. But in the poem, it's also very clear how much Gawain is set up by Arthur, who's in my opinion, the true villain of the piece. Gawain only volunteers after Arthur, who could nip the foolishness in the bud, succumbs to the Green Knight's taunts and decides to go along with the game to preserve his reputation. In a way, Gawain does nobly sacrifice himself, because, once Arthur has decided this is happening, someone has to. And in the poem, Arthur very much advises Gawain to go for the kill.

I also found it interesting, that the movie seemingly reverses that aspect, having Arthur remind Gawain that it's a game. It makes Gawain's failure more individual, less systemic. But in the film too, it's Arthur who decides, yep, this is happening, we're doing this. And in the film too, I don't necessarily get the sense it's about teaching his knights the value of accepting vulnerability for Arthur, he has just made a pretty ra-ra-speech about subjugating those Saxons. And as we later see the results of his military exploits on the corpse-strewn battlefield, he's also no stranger to the overkill approach - leave no survivors, don't risk a rematch.

This is the club, that Gawain wants to join - or vaguely feels he's supposed to want to join, since his mum and his uncle Arthur clearly want him to - and the film is about his realization that no, he actually doesn't, it's not worth it. He sees the emptiness of his ambitions, and how the power would corrupt him, and resigns himself to death. What shall it profit the man, if he shall gain the world, and lose his own soul?

I would have liked it better, if that realization just made him decide to go home as a coward, admit his failure, give up the pretense, with his head held high, as the fox suggested, not caring what the cool kids think any more. I still don't entirely see why it would mean he has to die.  But okay. Nice idea, very Christian, completely fine message for the movie.

Big departure from the poem though. Because the poem is about testing a lover, and that element really gets lost in this film.

To me, the most interesting thing about the poem is that unlike in the movie, Gawain actually _passes_ the chastity portion of his trials. Sure, it's a definition of chastity that involves a counter-intuitive (to me) amount of flirting and making out, but there's indeed a line Gawain never crosses with Lady Bertilac. More importantly, he honours the agreement by returning all the kisses he owes to the Lord - and not half-heartedly either ("long and deliciously" in the Tolkien translation). This time, he fully seems to grasp the spirit of the exercise, even if there are some minor flaws in execution. He does fail to disclose the gift of the girdle, but that's not out of malice or subterfuge ("for no artful wickedness, and for no wooing either") , but out of a fairly natural instinct for self-preservation, and the Green Knight, being so in touch with nature, can acknowledge that. He doesn't seem to feel too terribly betrayed at their final encounter. Gawain is not trying to come between him and his wife by keeping the girdle - he's just trying to improve his odds in the next trial.

For what it's worth, the Green Knight never really made himself vulnerable either - he had Morgan's spell to protect him, which he also didn't disclose when he issued his initial challenge. In a way, Gawain is just levelling the playing field. (In the poem Gawein gets to comment on it, when the Green Knight mocks him for flinching after the first feint - easy not to flinch, when you know you can just pick up your head afterwards). It's obviously still plenty brave to submit to the blow even with the girdle, because Gawain has never seen it in action and has to trust that it works (which is why film-Gawain in failure mode doesn't even do that, he just legs it). But he's still pretending to be braver than he his, and is suitably chastened when called out.

In the end, the poem seems to be fairly pro "fake it till you make it" however. The values of chivalry are portrayed as ultimately worthwhile even thought the knights don't entirely live up them. The world is a wild and scary place, and you won't always know the rules of the game, but if you go at it with the right attitude, people might give you some margin of error.

#gawain #gawain and the green knight #dev patel

[ruewrites]

Raising Them Right

AO3

WBT

Ships: Diavolo/Lucifer (minor near the end)

Word Count: 3960

Warnings: Abandonement, Self Deprication

A/N:  Here it is! So this is the second fic that was inspired from the one angst anon that wanted to know more about Asmo’s past relationships. I really had a wonderful time writing it, and I hope you guys enjoy!

Lucifer could still remember that day. It was clear in his mind and bit at him like a viper, slowly killing a part of him that was now long lost to time. He knew that Levi and Mammon remembered as well. Maybe Satan. But Asmo and the twins? Not so much. Regardless, he knew it had toyed with his brothers in various ways. Forcing different insecurities and means to cope down their throats. Honestly Lucifer didn’t even get away unscathed. 

Hurt and betrayal had bubbled up in his throat as he tore their room apart. Part of him was looking for an answer of sorts. A reason. But the bigger of him wanted destruction, wanted to erase them from their lives entirely. They chose to leave, so why should they have any memory of them? 

Lilith’s room was left untouched. Lucifer boarded up the door the best he could. This made his heart ache the most. He couldn’t focus too hard on what he was doing. It wouldn’t lead to good things. He needed to keep a steady composure for his brothers. They needed someone to look up to. Someone they could rely on. 

They had all packed up and left that night. The oldest three couldn’t bear to be in the house anymore. Satan hadn’t said anything, conflict swirling within his young mind. Asmo and the twins questioned their actions slightly.

“What if they come back looking for us?”

“Are we gonna go home soon Luci?”

“What if they miss us?”

It made the situation worse. It made Lucifer’s throat tighten and his eyes burn. How could he tell them that they weren’t even going back? That that place was no longer home? That they’d been abandoned? That was how Lucifer saw it, and he could feel that Mammon was just as bitter. His teeth were clenched, trying so hard not to snap at the little ones. They didn’t know any better, and Lucifer wished he could have protected them all from this reality. 

He was helpless.

They’d travelled around for a while, until they found a small motel with a vacancy. The older three had done the math. If they worked enough, they could stay here.. He wasn’t sure who called about them, but he wasn’t surprised. Who wouldn’t have been worried about seven children of varying ages wandering around alone on their own? Honestly, it was the responsible thing to do. Even if Lucifer hated admitting to it.

Ever since that day, Lucifer fought tooth and nail for his family. He refused to let anyone take his brothers away from him, refused to let them be torn apart any more than they already were. He’d heard everything. He was too young to effectively take care of them, that the little ones would be better off in more stable households. These conversations only succeeded in making Lucifer angrier. Eventually they reached a compromise. All seven of them would move in with a family, until further notice. 

Lucifer had agreed to this, but also took it as a challenge to get them their own place as soon as he could.

***********

Lucifer had gotten the call. He put himself down as the primary contact for all of his brothers, so he always knew what was going on with them. 

Deep breaths. In. And out. 

Getting angry at Mammon rarely got him anywhere. It was just frustrating. Mammon was smart  dammit! And he was a good kid deep down. Lucifer knew this, and it made it even worse every time he heard that Mammon had acted out once more. Lucifer had apologized to his professor multiple times about not being able to show up to class, and they understood, but it didn’t make the situation any better.

Lucifer got out of the car and started the routine he’d become so accustomed too. What could it be today? Acting out in class? Snatching something off of the teacher’s desk? Stealing from the cafeteria? Oh Lucifer could only imagine.

Greeting the ladies at the front desk, Lucifer was quickly ushered back to the principal's office. Mammon was hunched over in one of the chair’s, his hoodie obscuring his face.

Suspended.

For getting into a fight with another student.

It wasn’t  a long suspension, but Lucifer still didn’t exactly know how to feel about it. There was a tense silence in the car.It got to the point where Lucifer pulled off into a parking lot and shut his car off. Mammon sank down further in the car seat.

“Would you like to explain yourself?” Lucifer hoped his voice came out even, despite the twitching he felt in his lip. 

“It wasn’t that bad.”

“It wasn’t- Mammon you got suspended.”

More silence.

“Let me see.”

“Luc-”

“Let. Me. See.”

Mammon hesitated for a moment before pulling his hoodie down and looking over at Lucifer. He had a black eye. Lucifer put his head in his hands and Mammon quickly went on to try to explain himself.

“It wasn’t my fault! These guys came along n’ they were makin fun of Levi and were tryin to take his-”

“Levi?”

Lucifer’s head perked up as he looked at Mammon. His frustration slowly melted away as he listened to his brother with new interest.

“Yeah! These guys are normally jerks, but then they started goin at our family, and messing with Levi really bad.”

Lucifer was silent for a moment before starting the car. He was quiet for a few moments before speaking up, “Is there anything you want?”

“What?”

“You know I don’t reward bad behavior Mammon,” Lucifer started, “But I don’t think I consider what you did today bad behavior.”

Mammon blinked a few times before snorting, “You sound like a dad.”

“Don’t push it.”

“Aight aight…. Thanks Lucifer. I’ll think about it.”

***********

Levi had always loved his games, and he was good at them. The time he spent on them honestly had Lucifer concerned for his eyes. They made Levi happy and Lucifer could usually hear him talking about the lore behind them or the characters when he wasn’t talking about his favorite shows or manga.

Lucifer didn't understand any of it, he didn’t pretend to. Usually he couldn’t stop the confusion that spread across his face. Understanding what Levi was trying to understand quantum physics. But Levi didn’t seem to mind, he would continue to talk, excitement rising with each word that passed through his lips. Honestly, Lucifer was fine with anything that made him happy.

As long as his brothers were happy and safe, that was all that mattered.

So when he heard sniffling from Levi’s room, Lucifer couldn’t help but investigate. The door was open ever so slightly. He peeked his head in first, eyes scanning the room and settling on a pile of blankets in the center.

He walked closer and sat down on the bed and let the silence permeate for a moment.

“Levi,” he said softly, the sniffling stopped for a moment, “Why are you crying?”

Levi didn’t say a word. Lucifer didn’t move.

“I’m not gonna do anything or amount to anything,” Levi sniffled, “I’m not good at anything. My interests are weird. I’m  just taking up space and… and-”

And Dad said so.

The unspoken words lingered like a bitter perfume in the air. Lucifer knew their father had most likely said such things to Levi, he knew that he’d probably said more to Levi and the idea made Lucifer’s blood boil. Just because his brother had interests that their parents hadn’t deemed worthwhile, it didn’t  mean that it made them any less important nor did it define his worth in any way. 

Yet the words of their abandoners still ran hot through Levi’s veins, and the idea of his own self worth suffered. 

It was despicable.

Deplorable.

“Who told you this Levi?” Lucifer asked.

The pile of blankets went quiet for a moment, “Just people…”

“Well they’re wrong,” Lucifer said, pulling the blanket down from Levi’s head, “You have plenty of talents and you have a place in this family.”

He picked up one of the controllers around them. The plastic felt awkward in his hands, and the buttons were foreign to him. Levi hadn’t moved, so Lucifer went to the next thing he could think of.

“I’d like it if you could teach me how to play.”

***********

After countless hours of research on cats, Lucifer finally made a decision. Satan had difficulties when it came to being calm. He surrounded himself with teas, and books, and music, but every now and again something (or someone) would ruin the atmosphere he worked so hard to create. Lucifer wanted to help him, he wanted him to find some sort of peace and maybe a cat was just what was needed.

Satan loved cats. Ever since he’d been young he’d had an affinity for them. Lucifer used to catch him setting out scraps for the strays outside of their old house, and maybe on more than one occasion Lucifer had left out said scraps for Satan to find. 

Cerberus was good with other animals, he’d seen the dog around cats and Lucifer didn’t think there’d be any problem with having another pet in the house. Satan was responsible and a wonderful student.  Lucifer wanted to help him and wanted to see him succeed.

“Where are we going?” Satan asked, crawling into the passenger seat. 

“I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”

The look in his brothers eyes when he realized where they pulled up  to was one Lucifer swore he’d never forget. He asked him not to run as they got out of the car, but his pleas fell on deaf ears. He knew every cat in the shelter would be coming home with them if Satan could have his way, but they would be settling on one.

“Lucifer?”

Satan was staring into one of the pens. A small grey kitten with bright green eyes stared back. Needles to say, the soft bundle made the trip home with them. Lucifer swore that the calmest he’d ever seen Satan was when he was with that cat. He became a happier child and took care of her all on his own. His laughter filled the halls of the home more often, and it was contagious. Lucifer enjoyed seeing Satan smile, and he hoped the world would continue to allow him to have this type of happiness.

***********

Clothing stores had become a second home for the Morningstars. Lucifer swore the clothes he bought for his brothers never fit past the mall dressing rooms. Every other week he was bringing one or two of his brothers for shirts, or pants, or shoes, or some other article of clothing. Today it was him and Asmodeus.

Lucifer pushed the cart down the thin aisle glancing at the various clothes on either side of them with Asmo hot on his heels. However, the closer they got to the usual section the further and further Asmo lagged behind. It wasn’t until Lucifer was in front of the button ups that he realized his younger brother was no longer close behind him. Panic seized him for a moment, thinking he’d lost one of his siblings, but soon he spotted Asmo a few aisles down looking off at something.

“Asmo. Don’t wander off,” Lucifer said, as he approached him. The closer he got to Asmo, the better he could see what he was looking at. 

Pretty bows, flower clips, other sparkling hair pieces, skirts, loose fitting sweaters. Lucifer took a moment, looking over all of the different clothes, before realizing how nervous Asmo looked. Normally he was talkative and bubbly, but right now he was uncharacteristically silent and avoiding Lucifer’s eyes.

His brother had always liked pretty things. He loved picking flowers and having Lucifer catch butterflies for him to look at. He loved to watch the way sparkling dresses twirled in the movies they watched together and looking at the makeup on models on posters in the mall. Lucifer noticed these things, Lucifer knew these things about his brother, but Asmodeus didn’t know that Lucifer knew.  Asmo was worried, and unfortunately Lucifer thought he knew why. 

His brothers deserved to feel safe, to be happy, and even if they’d had a rough beginning, Lucifer wanted to make sure the rest of their stories led to a happy ending.

Lucifer leaned against the cart and offered a smile, “Well, pick out some things to try on.” 

Asmo perked up, looking shocked before a wide grin spread across his face. He put multiple outfits together from various sections and filled the cart. Lucifer honestly hoped they’d last him a while and that he wouldn’t outgrow them as soon as they got home. Asmo’s excitement was contagious.

Later that night, when he dropped him off at Solomon’s, Asmo tore out of the car, excited to show his friend his new clothes, hair clip sparkling in the sunlight.

***********

“Is dinner ready yet?”

Lucifer sighed and put the knife down next to the vegetables he was chopping. Beel had an appetite unlike any he’d come across before.  Doctors had said that he was probably going through a growth spurt and that he was likely going to be tall. A growing boy needed food, and Beel was far from a picky eater.

“Not yet.”

It was the same answer he’d given a few minutes ago.

Beel’s stomach echoed through the small kitchen as Lucifer picked up the knife once more. As he chopped away, his younger brother inched closer until his little eyes were peaking over the counter. A small hand reached out to steal a carrot piece from the counter. It wasn’t sneaky, Lucifer saw, but it didn’t matter.

Beel watched Lucifer in silence for a while, eyes wide and tracing every movement his older brother made.

“Lucifer?”

“Hm?”

“If I help you with dinner will it be done faster?”

The chopping stopped once more as Lucifer thought for a moment. Of course he could let Beel help. He didn’t want him using the knife, but this could still be a good opportunity to learn.  Slowly he nodded and looked towards the vegetables he’d already cut. 

“See those right there? Could you put those into the pot for me? I have another pot on the stove filled with water if you’d like to watch it warm up. When it’s boiling we can put the noodles in,” he said.

Beel’s grin widened and he nodded quickly, almost tripping over himself to help.

“And make sure you wash your hands, and be careful with the stove!”

Dinner had been quite lively that night. Beel chattered on and on about how he’d helped Lucifer with dinner, which led to some of the other younger ones wanting to learn so they could cook what they wanted. Lucifer chuckled quietly to himself. He knew he’d have to teach the rest of them eventually, but he never thought that he’d have a little cooking class on his hands.

***********

Finals had Lucifer stressed. He was running off of at least thirty-six shots of espresso split between six separate cups of coffee. Sleep seemed like a distant and fond memory to him, something he hadn’t experienced in a long while. He almost didn’t pick up on the sounds of small feet slowly padding against the floorboards of the house.

“Lucifer?”

The voice startled him, and he almost spilled one of his cups of coffee that had long gone cold. He swore softly before turning around. The soft glow of his laptop had been the only light source illuminating the room, and it took his eyes a while to adjust. Belphie stood in the doorway, pillow in one hand and his blanket trailing behind him. 

“Don’t tell the others, but,” Belphie was hesitant, his eyes swept to the floor, pink flooding his cheeks, “I had a really bad nightmare, and I can’t fall back asleep.”

Lucifer sat up a bit and tilted his head, “Is there anything you’d like to tell me about it?”

Belphie started to shake his head, then he hesitated. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before shaking his head again. “No,” he said, “But can I stay out here with you? But don’t-”

“Tell anyone? Of course I won’t, but you’re welcome to stay,” he yawned, scooting over ever so slightly to make room on the couch. He could feel his brother hesitate for a moment before wandering over to lay down. Minutes ticked by, and it wasn’t long until Belphie’s eyes shut once more and his small body slowly rose and fell

The more peace he could bring his brothers the better. Even at the slightest disturbance of sleep, Lucifer would smooth back Belphie’s hair in an attempt to calm him. Nightmares had become a common thing after what happened for a lot of them, and that meant Lucifer became alright when dealing with them.

He wasn’t going to leave them ever.

*********

Had he made the right decision? Or had his own pride made him so stupid as to make the worst mistake of his brothers’ lives? Should he have let them be taken by other families, potentially more stable families, and just set up dates to meet? Had he been selfish in his decisions?

These thoughts often plagued Lucifer when he was alone with his own thoughts. He thought about the problems his brothers faced and part of him felt responsible. He felt responsible for their fears, their problems, their worries. Everything bad that afflicted them could potentially be his fault. 

Mammon’s rebellious behavior.

Levi’s self deprecation.

Satan’s frustrations.

Asmo’s issues with his image.

Beel’s misplaced guilt.

Belphie’s angst.

Maybe he thought he could do more for them than he was actually capable of.

Maybe he’d been wrong.

**********

“Lucifer!”

Lucifer’s eyes glanced up from his paperwork to look at Diavolo from across the desk. He’d had piles of paperwork today, it felt like more than usual. There’d also been an influx in clients. New hires would definitely be needed soon. Perhaps he could have a meeting with Diavolo and Barbatos about it. 

“It’s time to clock out!” he said, bright and chipper as usual, “I was wondering if I could walk you home?”

Lucifer sighed and put down his pen. Diavolo was a good man and Lucifer did love him, but sometimes Lucifer felt like he took his work a little less seriously than he did.

Or maybe Lucifer was a little too strict. 

“That isn’t exactly necessary, besides, I have some things I need to finish up before I head home.”

“Nuh uh!” Diavolo clicked his tongue and shook his head, “The last time I let you stay past close to work, you were still here when I got back in the morning! It’s time to clock out. I’ll even help you where I can tomorrow!”

If he could stay on task when Lucifer needed him to. But Diavolo was a good man to work with, and he had proven himself time and time again. So Lucifer really shouldn’t worry himself all too much…

With a sigh of defeat Lucifer stood from his seat, each vertebrae in his spine cracking as he did so. He’d sat longer than he intended to…  “Alright, you win,” he said, “Just let me organize my work.”

Barbatos was waiting for them by the doors of the firm, keys in hand. Diavolo’s hand was pressed firmly against Lucifer’s back as he chattered away excitedly. It brought a soft smile to Lucifer’s face as he nodded to Barbatos. The more he thought about it, the more he realized how routine it had become for the three of them to walk home together. They were two of the closest friends Lucifer had ever had. After all, taking care of his brothers hadn’t left much room for socializing.

He knew Diavolo walking him home would also require him staying to talk for a little bit. Lucifer was already thinking of the variety of teas he could make for the two of them to relax with. His home wasn’t ideal, considering his brothers could be nosey when it came to his relationship, but if it made Diavolo happy it would suffice.

“Thank you,” he said as Diavolo opened the door for him, “Now-”

His sentence was cut short. No sooner had he walked into the kitchen and turned the lights on than confetti streamers went off, and a chorus of ‘surprise!’ surrounded him. 

His brothers were all there, standing with wide smiles and eager faces. In the center of it all was a cake: “Congrats on One Year!”

Diavolo was behind him again, guiding a stunned Lucifer into the room. His hand squeezed his shoulder, excitement coursing through his veins. 

“You haven’t forgotten have you?” Barbatos hummed, “The firm has been around for a year now. Your brothers wanted to congratulate you and asked us both to help.”

Ah. That’s right. This is why Barbatos was their secretary. The man knew how to keep track of the passage of time. 

Seeing that their brother was still in shock, Beel decided to speak up, “We wanted to let you know how proud we are of you.”

“Despite everything you’ve had to do and all the odds stacked against you, you still did it!” Asmo chirped in.

“And you did it while still raising all of us,” Satan smiled.

“Even when we could be the biggest pains in the ass,” Mammon said.

Levi turned to look at him, “Hey, stop talking about yourself Mammon.” 

“Oi!”

“Nah, he’s right, we can all be annoying,” Belphie snorted, “Well, you guys anyways.”

Despite his brother’s bickering, Lucifer’s smile had found its way back on to his face, “Thank you… All of you.”

“Well, why stand here when we have a cake to eat?” Diavolo chuckled, “Come on now Lucifer, let’s take a seat. Ha! That rhymed. Look at me being a poet!”

As Lucifer sat down with the others, he couldn’t help but look over all of his brothers. They’d all grown into such fine young men with bright futures. They were laughing, and happy, and together… They’d had their rough patches and a rather depressing beginning, but now they had a bright future ahead of them. Maybe Lucifer did make the right decision and maybe he’d been too hard on himself at times.

Despite every terrible thing that had happened they’d made it. They’d all beat the odds. As he sat there with his family he looked each of them over.

Confident and boisterous Mammon, who enjoyed drawing in attention.

Passionate Levi, who loved his hobbies more fervently than anyone Lucifer had ever met before.

Intelligent and calculating Satan, who’d always be hungry for knowledge.

Sweet little Asmo, who wore his heart on his sleeve and could spot beauty in anyone.

Gentle giant Beel, who was so compassionate and was always sensitive to the needs of others.

And a mellow Belphie, who knew how to appreciate the little things in life.

Lucifer was proud of them. No. Pride couldn’t even begin to describe the feeling spreading throughout his chest. This feeling was so much more intense. They were all so happy together, and Lucifer wouldn’t give this up for the world.

Their parents would never understand what a grievous mistake they’d made. Lucifer would never understand their reasoning, and he would never make excuses for them.

Lucifer had one thing they’d never have: the love of his brothers.

They would never have the satisfaction of seeing them be successful in life, and Lucifer would make sure they were successful and happy.

Even if Lucifer hadn’t been perfect, he knew he raised them right.

He knew they’d have bright and happy futures.

#obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #ruewrites #WBT #angst #hurt/comfort #fluff #angst with a happy ending #dialuci #mild dialuci #human!au

[kitkat1003]

What in the Word?

Wakko doesn’t have the best grasp of language comedy, and while he often doesn’t mind, it can eat at him.  Luckily, he has two siblings that can talk their way out of anything.

@asilcorner after reading your fanfic, I gave it a shot myself.

It’s the same situation Wakko is used to.  They’re messing something up, bringing chaos front and center, and then wordplay is brought in.  Dot and Yakko are trading sentences like blows and Wakko, tongue stuck out in confusion, has no idea where they are in the conversation. It happens more often then he’d like to admit-he’s quiet because actions speak louder than words, but also because words don’t help him as much as he’d like, and they can get lost in the path between his brain and his mouth. Just for once, he’d like to be able follow their trains of thought perfectly, and see how each line slices.  But he doesn’t. He sighs, as the bit ends, and heads over to the couch to sit down, playing with a paddle ball with one hand and eating a sandwich held in the other.

Yakko notices, because he always does, and heads over.

“Hey, I know you’re having you’re third lunch, but what’s eatin’ ya?” He asks, and Dot is right behind him, confusion and slight annoyance pinching her features.  Wakko’s frown deepens-so now his emotions are annoying? “Guys...do you think I’m stupid?” It comes off a little too nonchalant, there’s a lack of a vulnerability he wanted to impart, because he is nervous.  Dot rolls her eyes.

“Of course, but that’s never bothered you before,” She snarks back, and Wakko’s mouth moves before he thinks.

“Figures the brat of the family would have that response, huh Dottie?”

“Hey!  Why, I outta-!”

“Hey, Hey, Hey!” Yakko’s voice cuts through the argument that would have become a fight, arms pushing them apart.  Dot already has her hammer out, though she lowers it a little as she and Wakko look up to their eldest.  Yakko’s arms are crossed over his chest.

“That’s no way to talk to each other.  Now, I want apologies from the both of you,” Dot sighs, long suffering, but the hammer is put away.

“Sorry Wakko.  You’re not actually stupid.”

“Sorry Dot.  You’re not a brat, and I know you hate that name.”

“There, see?” Yakko is smiling, and Dot doesn’t seem to rankled, but Wakko’s bad mood has stuck, and he continues to frown.  Yakko notices.

“Now, what’s the matter lil bro?  You’re not usually this moody.  Someone eat your donuts again?” He and Dot share a look, like they know something Wakko doesn’t, and that only frustrates him more.

“I can’t-you guys are better at talking than me,” He blurts out.  “All I do is mess with props!” He waves his hands around for emphasis.

“Now, that’s not true.  Yakko and I have verbal sparring matches, but you add in your two cents from time to time,” Now that Dot has seen that this is more than just a bit of whining, she joins in to help.

“Yeah, you don’t talk much, but when you do it’s great!  And what’s wrong with props?  You’re the best at them,” Yakko adds, and Wakko sighs.

“I’ve heard it’s lazy comedy.  No real comedian uses props anymore,” he crosses his arms and mumbles it into his knees.  Yakko blinks, confused.

“Since when did you care about ‘real’ comedians?  They’re not better than us, we’re the Warner Siblings!” At that, Wakko erupts.

“But no one notices me because I don’t talk!” He shouts, and Yakko looks taken aback.  “Dot and you are special, and funny, but I’m just the prop guy-and-and-,” He doesn’t realize he’s getting so worked up until Yakko puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, hey, that’s not true.  Like anyone could overlook you-I mean, you’re the wildcard!” He smiles, but Wakko remains resolutely upset.  “But this isn’t just that, is it.  C’mon, tell me what’s really eatin’ at you,” Wakko turns to look at him, and then stares down at his gloved hands.

“What if...What if people don’t think I’m funny anymore?” He swallows, because the words are hard to get out.  “What if they get tired of me-tired of slapstick?  I don’t want-I don’t want to be alone.” I don’t want you to leave me.

Because 60 years, even with a few break outs, is a long time to be stuck in one place, and the only reason it was bearable was because Dot and Yakko were there.  If Wakko was alone?

He wouldn’t have made it.

He looks up and Yakko, and he doesn’t know that Yakko is thinking about Nicklewise.  Doesn’t know that Yakko is thinking about the desperate cry of “You guys think I’m funny, right?!”  Doesn’t know that Yakko knows just that type of fear, just that type of terror.

But he knows Yakko couldn’t be anything less than right when he says “Well, even if the world doesn’t think you’re funny, we will.”

Dot chimes in her agreement, and it’s a soft moment, but there’s a lesson not learned yet.  That worth and happiness shouldn’t be dependent on the world thinking you are funny; on doing something that makes you worthwhile.  The trio doesn’t know it yet-their therapist isn’t exactly helpful, or able to be helpful-and they ought to, but they’re young, and they’ve been through plenty enough to make them think that they’re right in their beliefs.

But that doesn’t matter at the moment, because they have each other, and Wakko is, for the moment, satisfied.

“Good enough for me,” He says, and then “Hey, you guys want to go mess with Ralph?”

A chorus of laughs and chattering agreement ensues, and they’re out the door with 3 identical smiles.

#animaniacs #animaniacs 2020 #yakko wakko and dot #yakko warner #wakko warner #dot warner #kitkat1003

[love-we-write]

Eccedentesiast

Character: RichyxMC (ambiguous platonic or romantic)  Genre: Hurt/Comfort? Friendship/Romance? Unbeta-ed mess is for certain Words: 4,188  Summary: Richy is used to being known to be able to bring a little bit of comical sunshine to everybody’s gloom. He’s just not used to letting anyone know that he’s burning behind that light. But then, you appeared in his life.  Potential T/W: mentions of panic attacks   A/N: Done in conjunction with the Duskwood Secret Santa event~! Dear @anatomical-myocardium, Merry Christmas to you~! Sorry this took so long to post, I swear my laptop crashes on me at the most inconvenient time sometimes. I hope I did this justice as a gift to you, and I hope you like it, just as I absolutely love your gift to me~! Have a safe and happy Christmas~!  ❤️ ❤️

And with a renewed vow to write anything and everything that I want to write without minding if it’s a game, or an anime, or an anime game, or Kpop, here we go~!  ❤️ ❤️

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Richy is most known by his friends and all the Duskwood residents for his carefree nature, and he is very much aware of this. 

With his small group of friends, he has been the joker of the group longer than memory can serve, always light-hearted with that small touch of dry humor to help liven up the mood. From their weekly battle of Doodle Friends to their catch up session at Aurora’s, all seven of them look to Richy to brighten their days with his quick-witted comebacks and his lame jokes that gets even Lily - ever the serious one - to chuckle.

At his job, his bright personality makes him one of the select few who could talk to Alfie without unnerving the boy, and from greeting old ladies who pass by his shop to chatting away with his customers while he repairs their cars, everyone does not have qualms to admit that Richy’s easy-going nature is his most admirable trait, a warm relaxing ray of sunshine that comes out and give others a bit of cheer on their gloomy days.

Richy knows that his ability to not take things too seriously gives comfort to his friends. 

Richy knows this, knows it in the way Jessy thanks him for being there for her when she is frustrated with how Dan is treating her affections, knows it in the way Thomas looks at him silently yet gratefully when he brought them to Aurora’s and filled them with a copious amount of beers and stupid jokes for a self-proclaimed “pity party” after Thomas’ fight with Hannah. 

He knows it during the wake of Hannah’s absence when Thomas is on the verge of breaking down, and when Jessy fought with Cleo over how to handle the investigation, Lilly had reached out to him in the middle of the night,  quiet words of “I feel like you’re the only one keeping this group together,” mumbled into the phone in between sniffles.

Richy knows he is most known for his easy-going personality, and he is used to it. 

He is also used to that horrible feeling of uselessness constantly haunting him in the deep dark solace of his mind. That sinking in his stomach, the heaviness settling in his core as he contemplates whether he has anything worthwhile at all anything good to offer to this world, the constant feeling that he doesn’t have anything at all. It is a dark void spanning the crevasse of his mind that comes up in his solitude, whispering that he is not good enough, that he does not deserve grief and his fear is only going to burden his loved ones.

Because who is he to voice out his sadness and anguish when everybody else has so much on their plate already? Who is he to want to cry at Jessy to look at him, just LOOK AT HIM WHO HAS BEEN THERE FOR YOU when she is heartbroken herself. What right does he have to voice out his grief, his guilt at being the first one to come to Hannah’s house but still unable to save her anyway? What right does he have to say these things, when he only had lost a friend while Thomas lost a girlfriend and Lilly a sister? 

What right does he have?

So, Richy does what he does best. He smiles. He jokes. And he hides. He stopped trying to figure out the line inside him where his smile ends and his fear starts. To him, they all bleed together.

Richy is used to being known to be able to bring a little bit of comical sunshine to everybody’s gloom. He’s just not used to letting anyone know that he’s burning behind the light.   

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 But then, you appeared in his life. You with your contagious kindness, you who are the one person who does not have any personal stakes with Hannah in this investigation but still decided to help out of the sheer good in your heart. 

Richy sometimes thought that you were highly naive when you said that them getting your number and bringing you in this group must have meant that there is something that you could do instead of just seeing it as it is; an ominous invitation from an unknown hacker. However, that thought of your naivete is blown out of the water when he witnessed your bright-eyed curiosity and your sharp perception. 

‘You like Jessy, don’t you?’ you had texted him out of the blue during one of your conversations when during the first few days after you appeared in their lives.

Richy swore he almost dropped his phone in his coffee when he read your text. No one has ever picked up on his one-sided affections towards Jessy, not even their group, not even Jessy herself who has been his close friend. 

He has always been wary of you when Thomas first invited you in. A stranger whose number was given to them by another stranger seemed to Richy like a well-timed disaster waiting to explode in their faces. Richy liked to think of himself as neutral when it comes to matters of your involvement; skeptical enough to not be desperate as Thomas but to the point of hostility that Lilly has shown. 

But with your eagle-eyed intuition, Richy realized he had to be extra careful with himself around you.

‘Uh, gotta go. Coffee’s about ready and I need that caffeine injection for my sanity, in case some more shit happens around here, haha,’ he had typed quickly, adding in several emojis in succession for some good measure. He puts the phone face down almost immediately, as if that would help distract him from your reply, and busies himself with work.

‘That’s okay. Coffee sounds like a great idea. The next time you want to subtly avoid having uncomfortable conversations about yourself, I have a list of ideas :D,’ was your reply to him when he checked his phone during his break. 

Mirth bubbles up in Richy, a feeling of familiarity and comfort fizzing up in him like downing cold soda on a hot summer day. Richy chuckles towards his phone, seeing as you really did provide him with a list of excuses to make to get out of conversation, each item sillier than the previous one.

Your entrance into his and the way Richy felt you seeing through to him feels like a breath of fresh air.

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‘Richy, hi.’ 

 Richy smiles, looking at his phone vibrated on the countertop as he is pouring his third cup of coffee for the day. Seems like the weekend is as good as any for him to gather his thoughts to himself, to compartmentalize his feelings away from the crowd, but the texts from you over the days is a welcome distraction. 

From asking him about Jennifer Manson, to asking him about the phone call he made on the day of Hannah’s disappearance, to random conversation about your favorite movies or music, messages from you have become something he looks forward to daily. He found himself slowly thinking more and more of you; whether you are okay, what you have been doing among other things

‘Now, what more information does my lady seek from me?’ he types quickly, anticipating as the three dots beside your name blinks back at him. 

‘Good sir, is it such a crime if I just want to inquire about your day? :(’

Richy would be lying if he said that his heart did not skip a few beats over those words.

‘Our previous conversations would indicate that you always would have things to ask me after you know about how my day went, so out you go. :D’

It feels nice to see you playing along with his jokes.

‘Cleo told me you fought with your dad?’

Ah.

Not information about Hannah’s disappearance then. Which, to him, is much much easier to divulge.

‘That girl is going to get into trouble one day over how much she’s eavesdropping.’

‘I know. But more importantly, are you okay?’

Are you okay? Wow, Richy thinks as he stares at his idle phone. A simple question, but look at how he is struggling to answer. So he quickly typed in.

‘I’m okay, don’t worry, haha. Listen, the cat outside my apartment is literally meowing my window panes down, I better go check up on it before it eats itself,’ Richy began typing his response, as if him staring down the digitized letters will give him some form of epiphany over what the best course of action is. 

Excuse #12 from that ridiculous list that you gave him from weeks ago. From feeding non-existent stray cats outside his house to a car needing their tires changed, it quickly became an inside understanding between the two of you that this is a signal that he does not want to talk about it. 

But, inside, he wants to talk about it. Wants to talk to you about how this fight is a series of continuous disagreements between him and his father over how to run the family’s garage. Wants to talk about how this garage is not what he envisioned doing in his adult year, that he has no interest whatsoever in running the family’s business. How he had wanted to be a photographer, but was forced to run the garage by his dad to continue the family business. 

And how each time his father berates him over the losses their garage suffered due to the new competing garage in town, he feels a slight vendetta to bring up that he is never interested in what happens in this garage but is only doing it for his father.

He has long perfected the art of hiding anything of him that isn’t polished and brightened, so when you picked it up immediately, he felt flustered. Flustered because he doesn’t know what to do when faced with the idea of someone perceptive as you catching his vulnerabilities that he is ashamed of. But, also flustered with the fact that he feels a small sense of comfort that someone took time to notice the small things about him, and that deep inside, he feels some small part of him wanting to reach back out.

For now, he just added a bunch of cheerful emojis for good measure and hits send.

He wants to talk about it. He wants to.

‘You know, I don’t expect you to exhaust that list so quickly. I would have thought it’d be good for at least 2-3 months.’ came your reply.

‘I worry about you, Richy.’

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And it is true, you are worried for him. It has been close to three weeks since you first got added into this strange group, and if truth be told, you would never have thought that you’d be as invested as you are now. You could not deny that Jessy and Richy were two of the friends you never thought that you would care for as much as you did. You know that Jake had warned you over the group, and you ARE a bit more wary of some more than others, but you did not expect your trust to go wholeheartedly to this small trio that you have formed with Jessy and Richy. 

Jessy is the sweetest girl you have ever met in the world, always kind. She has this effect around people that made them feel cared for, and you are thankful how she had welcomed you and helped you out when everyone else seems to think you are the kidnapper.She wears her heart on a sleeve, and she trusts easily, but she means well. And Richy…

Richy is an enigma. On surface level, it seems that he is a bright ray of sunshine, all lighthearted jokes and wit, a perfect comedic complement to Jessy’s more emotional tendencies, but you notice the things that made Richy much more complex than he lets on.

You see his calm and composed nature when he is the one to suggest the group to think more critically in the case of your appearance and Hannah’s disappearance, how he calmed everyone down and brought their spirits up. But you also see his aversion to talking about how he himself feels.

Even though he does not show it, you know the incident with Hannah affected him just as much as it had affected everybody else. You see the sprinkle of emotions he has shown, from Jessy who told you how quiet he had been on the day his garage was spray painted with the sign of the raven, to his deprecating jokes about himself when you asked about the phone call he had made to Hannah on the day of her disappearance. 

You see that sliver of fear, that glimpse of guilt over those short moments, but come any closer and you could miss it with how subtly and skillfully he averts to more cheerful topics.

But that’s the thing. You worry for him. Jessy goes to the both of you for comfort while Dan goes to Jessy. Lilly has her family, Cleo goes to Thomas and Thomas’s grief is acknowledged and heard by all of them.

But who listens to Richy? Who gives Richy their shoulder for him to grief? Who lift up his spirits the way he does to you? For now, all you can do is put your phone close to your ear, Richy’s number dialing in the background. 

‘I worry about you, Richy.’

‘It gets better, I promise you. You don’t have to be alone. I’m here for you,’ you added under your previous text. It goes unanswered and your calls only gets redirected to voicemail. So all you can do is hold your phone close to you, placing your lips on its receiver, only able to hope that it goes to him, that his cheeks or his forehead feels the warmth as a sign that you are here for him.

Miles away, in Duskwood, Richy only stares in his phone longingly, wanting to call you. 

‘I’m here for you.’ your text that had him feeling hopeful, comforted and flustered him all the same.

It has been a long time since someone sees through him so transparently, heck, the void in him has bled together with his façade so much that even he himself cannot see through the layers of sunshine to where his dark insecurities start. He has crafted so many walls, perfected so many smiles that it even fooled Jessy, the person most close to him here in Duskwood. Perhaps at some point, maybe he even fooled himself.

And yet, here you are. Effortlessly breaking through those walls like it’s paper, unblinded by the fake shine he puts on, and sees the darkness in him for what it is. He has to laugh at that as he leaned his forehead on his phone, somehow feeling a sense of comfort just in doing that. What have you done to him? 

Perhaps one day he can begin to talk about it.

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 That day came sooner that he thought it would be. That night in December, it snowed heavily in Duskwood. Angry snow fell down in a furious blizzard, gusts of wind wailing outside in anguish, doors and window panes shaking almost in fear. Sometimes, the wailing picks up speed and bangs on the window with a scream.

Inside, Richy is just as furious, just as anguished as the blizzard outside. The man without a face seems hell-bent in getting them to stop finding Hannah and to obtain your location. Richy would bend over backwards and go to hell twice before letting your location fall in its hands. And with the search not showing any signs of stopping, so did the threats to them.

Today, it took the threat to another level when it involved their families as well. Richy had woken up with a call from his father. He had expected the call to be his father picking up another fight with him, but the urgency in his father’s voice and the manic sobbing of his mother in the background struck a cold chord in him.

It turned out that his family house has been vandalized with the signs of the raven, only this time it is worse than the one did in the garage. The windows were splashed with red paint, with papers jammed in their mailbox full of threatening letters of ‘give me her’ and ‘Richy, you’re next’. It took him a good two hours to scrub the windows clean, and then another hour to comfort his mother that this is just a prank pulled by some reckless vandals, to clean up the papers from the mailbox and throw them in the trash.

But, deep inside he knows it. This is not a prank. This is a threat to him. To them.

Duskwood is a small town. People will talk and come tomorrow, his friends will find out. He needs time. He needs time to sort out his thoughts. Time to properly compartmentalize.

He needs time to sort out through his guilt of not being able to protect his family from being terrorized from the man without a face. There is the fury with the fact that it has been established that the man without a face is someone within their circle, given how much they know about your presence.

He needs time.

There is the fear that you, being the lynch pin to all that the man without a face wanted from them, will be burdened more. He needs time to sort through the fear that he could not protect you, and even though it is for the best interest of your safety that none of them knows where you are, you are still all alone having to pick up after these seven dysfunctional people and no one to protect you.

Then, there is the confusion, the stress, the angry sadness that this is a game that he has to continue to play with his friends. The betrayal that one of them, one of his close friends is responsible for this, that they could have the balls to laugh with him, smile with him and turn around and do this to him. 

He needs time to sort through this anger and he doesn’t have the courage to face them and continue playing this game tomorrow, not when all he wanted to do is lash out at each one of them and threaten them and ohgodheneedstimeheneedstime-- 

In the solace of his room in his family home, Richy feels his thoughts become as white as the blizzard of snow outside. He hears his breath quickens, a voiceless wail stuck in his throat and he feels the shivers in his spine like the doors trembling in front of the wind.

Heneedstimeohgodpleasegivehimabitoftime----

And like a lifeline, his phone besides him rang and vibrated and he clutched it to him like a lifeline. Like a miracle in December, he sees that it’s your name. Somewhere in his blank white thoughts, he hears a small chuckle and how impeccable your timing is.

He answers and your voice in his ears sounded like a buoy thrown to him that is flailing about.

“Richy, I had a bad feeling about something. Is everyone okay?” and Richy hears himself laugh at that, a horrible mixture of a broken laugh and a hiccup and a helpless wail, all mixed up to become a horrible wounded noise.

Over on your side of the phone, your heart picked up pace when you heard that choked laughter from Richy. It is horrible and it is scary and you would never want to hear it from anyone again, least of all not Richy. He is having a panic attack.

“Richy, are you okay?! Richy, listen to me. Breathe with me, sweetheart. Breathe in, breathe out,” deep inside you tried to stay calm because that is what he needs, but even you feel like being on the verge of tears listening to this man - who has cheered you up so much - break down in front of you.

After he seemed to have calmed down, you tried again.

“Richy, what’s wrong? Please talk to me. You deserve to not be alone in this Richy. I see you. I see you smiling to get everyone to smile. You listened to me and you lifted up my mood when Jessy was attacked, and when I received threats over Lilly’s video. Let me do the same to you, yeah? Tell me what’s wrong?”

And to Richy, who has clutched onto your voice like a lifeline, who wants to share everything with you, just burst like a dam. Everything that he has kept secret from his friends, the sadness behind his smile, everything that he has even kept from himself and just swept under the rug and pushed into a closet at the back of his mind. Everything burst right there in front of you, from his guilt to not being able to stop Hannah’s kidnapping and Jessy’s attack, to him feeling unworthy of being sad compared to others, to his fear when he saw the sign of the raven in his garage and now on his home, his fury at knowing one of his friends are doing this, to his fear for Jessy, his fear for you. 

He hated everything. He hated himself.

You told him that he is strong, that you admired him so much, but he needs to see that he deserves to be comforted just as much as he has comforted everyone else. 

In that snowstorm-clad night, the winds wept and wept, but beneath its howl, you can hear the intermittent wail of a broken man as Richy cried, and cried, and cried. 

As he lets out everything, the blank white fog of his mind begins to clear and gain color. It started from the reds of fury, to the blacks of fear and the blues of guilt, but then your voice came in, and slowly the pinks of comfort, the yellows of hope and the purples of peace began melting through. 

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[EPILOGUE]

Both you and Richy sat over the phone for over 3 hours just talking about nothing and everything after his outburst. 

He seems to have gained his color back, his cheerful self almost back as he cracked his lame stories about gangster seagulls eating his sandwich once in his travels. Richy feels like this time, his color - albeit still a little faded - is much more genuine than the blacks filtered from a rose-colored glass that he has shown before. Your laughter as you listen to his story and object to its credibility, slowly made those faded colors in his mind more vibrant.

“Thank you for listening to me, for um… taking care of me,” he begins a bit meekly after he finishes his story. He’s not so used to being listened to, not at this vulnerable a level and definitely he is not used to being taken care of.

“You did the same to me when Jessy was attacked. And you would have done the same for me again, I’m sure of it,” your voice sounded like a smile would, and God, would he give up everything to see that smile in person. He laughs to himself internally. How has this person made him so whipped for her in such a manner?

“I’m planning on going to Duskwood soon,” you had said out of the blue, bringing him back from his reverie.

“Absolutely not. In case you forgot my magnificent show of tears just now, the man without a face is threatening us to get to you. You coming here is the absolute worst thing to do,” Richy snorted, a mock indignant and wounded tone from him that made you chuckle.

“Well, how bad can it be? If we keep my arrival a secret from the rest of them, and spend the days, just you, me and Jessy, it wouldn’t hurt, would it? Someone needs to go there and give you a hug and take care of you,” you had replied back shortly, almost giving no thought to what you had said.

“Oh my, my lady, are you flirting with me?” Richy’s exaggerated gasp brought you back to reality, and his implication had your heart skipping beats.

“Well I mean… um…” you stuttered, and Richy swore your hesitance and stuttering made his heart soar just a little bit more in hope. But pursuing it is for another time.

“W-Well, someone needs to stop you from being such an eccedentesiast!” you had blurted out, extremely grateful that the distance makes it unable for him to see your bright red hot face.

His laughter after that sounds like the most genuine you have heard from him so far, and he might have said something along the lines of “nooo use small words, your idiot here doesn’t understand what that means,” but you couldn’t remember clearly. All you remembered was you thinking that you would give almost anything to protect that genuine tinkling laughter of his.

#duskwood #duskwood game #duskwood richy #duskwood mc