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starfirewildheart · 3 months

Text

Chapter 8

Summary: Some mysteries are revealed. Mentions of past abuse to Geralt and Naurel.

The Wolf and the Flame

Warnings: abuse history, injuries, hurt comfort, no one under 18 to be safe, will add when I need to

Words: 2,274

Naurel sat on the small bed in the healing wing curled against Geralt’s side as he leaned against the headboard beside her. Jaskier had been treated with the herbs that she helped grow and Nennenke cleared the healing wing. It was now just the priestess, Geralt, Jaskier who was still asleep and her.

Nenneke looked at the redhead with expectant eyes but when she didn’t speak she pressed on. “How long have you known?”

“I..” how could she explain any of this? She didn’t know the answers herself so how could she tell them what they wanted to hear. Would Geralt leave her because she was a freak? Taking a moment to gather her courage she chose her words carefully. “I have known that my blood was different since I was a child. I got punished for breaking a dish and the master left me laying on the ground outside. When I stood up the grass was green where my blood had been. I thought it was just a trick of the eye, to be honest, but the more it happened the more I realized that I was,” she paused searching for the right word. “Evil?” It was the only word she could think of.

“Evil?” Geralt growled in question.

She nodded. “The master realized it was happening one day when he punished me for spilling his ale. He was a bit heavy-handed with the belt and my back had already been split from another lashing a few days earlier so the skin broke easier. I bled a lot that day and it caused some wildflowers to bloom. He kept calling me cursed and saying I was a child of the black sun so they took me to Queen Calanthe. Her healer did all sorts of tests on me,” she closed her eyes against the memories. “He told her I was too young to be a child of the black sun but then they started whispering and I couldn’t hear what they said. I know her eyes got really big and they kept looking over at me.” She hid her face against Geralt’s muscled arm as shame burned her skin. “After that, I was given to a new master and the healer sent a medication that they had to give me daily. Said it would stop the evil from growing in me. All my punishments after that were done inside and if I changed masters the queen chose who got me.”

Geralt looked over at Nenneke a moment before gently lifting Naurel’s chin so that she was looking at him. “If you had any evil in you my medallion would react to you, more than that I would feel it.”

She wanted to believe him but it didn’t make sense. “Maybe the medication hides it? The evil is still in my blood so it has to be true. You saw what it can do.”

“That is not an evil gift my child,” Nenneke shook her head. “That is a blessing from Melitele. Your blood is different but not all things that a different are bad. What’s happening with you,” she looked at Geralt then back to Naurel. “There is a legend as old as the convergence itself about beings that were sent here to protect those that protect the world from evil. They worked in unison with the first witchers boosting their strengths and mutations making them nearly unbeatable but it took its toll on their bodies. The first witchers were almost feral and only cared about the kill so they wouldn’t give their counterparts time to heal before using them again and they died out. Legend says that in a time of great need that Melitele would send them again.”

“Nephilim?” Geralt gasped. He’d heard the stories they grew up with them but he never believed. The first witchers were as brutal as the beasts they killed and wreaked havoc everywhere they went. They raped women, killed men for fun, and did whatever they wanted. Through the years they started to become tamer but even in Vesimer’s generation some of them were still brutal.” He remembered the tortures he and his fellow young witchers endured at their hands. Most of the things they did to the young boys were inhumane, to say the least, but they were mutants and no one cared what happened to them.

“It seems fate has spoken my dear witcher,” the priestess nodded. “Your specialness among the witchers, Ciri’s gifts, and now Naurel. You are all meant to be together, you’re a part of something big.”

“But if that were true then why wouldn’t I be able to do more? Why wouldn’t I be stronger?” Naurel didn’t believe it. There was no way she could be part angel. “I’m just a slave,” she insisted.

“The medication that the healer kept you on was to subdue your powers girl. Calanthe wanted it to be hidden just like she hid her own bloodline and kept Ciri in the dark. If people knew of your powers then they would begin to question things and everything she fought so long to hide would have come to light. Her family secrets would have been revealed and then she would have had to admit that she’d lied all those years. People would have come for Pavetta and if Ciri had even been born and they would have come for her too.”

Geralt hummed at her line of thinking knowing that she was probably right but what did it all mean. “We need to find out all the lore on this we can and find out how this ‘medication’ has affected Naurel long term.”

“I have a feeling that I know the answer to that,” Nenneke told him. “The blood sample Triss brought to me when Naurel first came to be with you, the blood had differences but the blood I took when she arrived here a few days ago? It is teeming with particles that are unlike any I have ever seen in other blood. The longer she goes without the medication the stronger she is going to get. I believe that the magic that we all feel on her is a binding spell as well to inhibit her from growing stronger and coming into her full powers.”

“Can you remove the magic?” Geralt asked.

“No,” Nenneke shook her head. “I have tried and I can’t but something tells me that Naurel will be able to break the magic’s hold herself when she is strong enough.” She paced in front of the bed for a moment, thinking. “There is much to learn still. As soon as Naurel is healed then you can start in my library but you know where you need to go for this sort of information. You are about the only one she will even see anymore.

Geralt nodded. They would indeed need to take a trip to see Finn. “We will go as soon as they are well enough to travel. I’m not going to leave Jaskier unprotected again either,” he looked over at his friend.

“I think some time spent at Kaer Morhen would do you all good before you go see Finn. Wait out the winter in the keep like witchers always do.”

“But is it safe to wait?” he argued.

“Safer than people seeing a witcher traveling with companions during the winter.”

He couldn’t argue that logic. It was true that most beasts hibernated in the cold so witchers used that time to heal and gather their energy until spring. It would be good to stay in one place for a while anyway. To just be able to spend some time together. “You know best my friend.”

“And it’s about time you admitted it,” she teased then left them.

Naurel was still trying to process everything that she’d heard. How was any of this even possible? Yeah, sure, she knew Geralt was special and even Ciri, but herself? Nope. No way. Not a chance. The only powerful part of her was that she’d learn to take a punch. How to survive on little to nothing and how to become invisible in a room full of people. She was lost in thought when she felt Geralt’s hand on her cheek. “Huh?”

“Are you alright?” he frowned. “I know that’s a lot to take in.”

“Are you alright?” she asked. “The girl you have feelings for is a freak whose blood can make plants grow and is some freakish offspring of an angel and a human who may or may not have great power and may or may not cause or help whatever great war is about to happen and oh, by the way, if she can’t get her shit together then you may be totally screwed because she’s supposed to be the one to help keep you safe but likely someone fucked up that bit because I mean, hello, it’s me” she gestured to herself, “and I always screw everything up and destroy everything I touch!” She was breathless when she finished because she’d said all that in one breath.

“You are not a freak.”

She sat up straighter and stared at him. “That’s all you got after all of that is that I’m not a freak?”

He chuckled and shrugged, “Destiny seemed to have gotten this one right. If you are so unsure of yourself then it’s a good thing I’m a witcher. You won’t hurt me while you are learning to deal with your powers and how to use them.”

She shook her head, “You are…” she couldn’t think of a word that would work to describe him.

“Wonderful? Amazing? Perfect?”

The smirk on his face had her fighting not to laugh. “Impossible.”

“Humm,” he leaned in and kissed her. Soft and gentle at first but soon his tongue was pressing against the seam of her petal-soft lips and he was pleasantly surprised when they parted allowing him access. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her so that she was half laying on top of him with one hand on her back and the other cupping the back of her head. Her small hand rested on his chest over his heart and he wanted nothing more than to flip her over and ravish her right there. He knew she still needed to heal before that could happen so he settled for lazily kissing and exploring what he could over her night gown.

Naurel finally pulled away from Geralt’s lips for no other reason than that she needed to breathe. Her eyes were glazed and her body tingled as she looked into his golden eyes longingly. His lips were red and kiss swollen and she knew hers must look the same and it left her feeling a bit debauched. It was a feeling she found she liked quite a bit but only because it was him that made her feel that way. She felt a rather large bulge pressed against her hip where her thigh rested between his and she pressed down ever so softly dragging across the bulge a bit. The soft gasp and almost unnoticeable buck of his hips was something she wanted to explore more. “Why witcher I think you’ve got a monster of your own there that needs to be tamed.”

“Be careful,” he smiled. “He’s been waiting to be set free for a long time now. He might not want to be put back in his confines once he’s out,” he teased her.

“He just needs lots of pets and kisses,” she smirked and pressed against him again causing his hips to buck. “And maybe a nice, warm, wet place to hide in for a bit.”

He growled low and deep as one big hand moved down to cup her ass under the sheet and he pressed their lips together in a kiss.

“I’m gonna puke,” a voice rasped from beside them.

“Jaskier?” They both sat up and moved to him. “How are you feeling?” Naurel asked as she took his hand.

“Not nearly as well as Geralt apparently,” he teased.

Geralt held a cup of water to his lips so he could wet his mouth then set it aside. “I'm so glad to see you awake,” he gripped Jaskier’s shoulder.

“Where are we?” he looked around trying to figure out exactly what had happened. “I remember seeing you and dwarves and catching a head,” he frowned.

“He rescued us and the dwarves brought us to the Temple of Nenneke,” Naurel explained. “We’ve been here nearly five days.”

“Five days?” He couldn’t believe he’d been asleep that long. “Yennefer,” he gasped trying to set up.

Geralt carefully pushed him back down. “She’s gone but harmless. Her magic has left her. She made a deal with the deathless mother but it backfired on her.”

“No, she got screwed over,” Jaskier said as he rubbed his thumb over the back of Naurel’s hand that was holding his own.

Naurel nodded, “The fire fucker who gave her the potions to open a portal told her that he was working with Voleth Meir. He was the one who wanted Ciri and knew at the very least if he had us that you would come looking. He told Yennefer that you would have Ciri with you because after her betrayal you wouldn’t trust anyone else with her. “

Geralt shook his head. “It’s a good thing he was wrong then. I trust my brothers. Eskel, Coen, and Lambert are on Ciri watch.”

“Poor witchers,” Jaskier teased and laughed, causing a coughing fit.

Wolf and flame tag list

@kneelforloki

@shellyshellshell

@warriormirkwood

@mollymal

#geralt x reader #witcher geralt #geralt z rivii #geralt of rivia #witcher fanfiction #the witcher netflix #the witcher #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill

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wh0refornikolailantsov · 1 year

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Prompt: “Is this because you believe that I could not love you? I do. I love you. I love you so much that I will do as you wish. If you do not love me, say you do not love me, and I will go… But first, you have to say that you do not love me.”

Song: I Found - Amber Run

For Tolya x Reader please!!

More Than Enough For Me - Tolya Yul Bataar

Content Warning: Angsty? Yes. Angst. Insecurity. Doubt. Fear Of Not Being Enough For Someone. Fear That What You Have To Offer Is Not Enough. Fear Regarding Platonic Love Comparatively With Romantic, Physical and Other Types Of Love. Not Beta/Proof Read.

I am giving my strong Aro/Ace Tolya with this one and I am loving it. My qualifications you ask? I am Ace.

"For all your recanting of poetry," Zoya says not bothering to look up from her tablework, "what do you know about love Tolya, you know duty."

"And who are you Zoya to claim to know the difference?" Tolya responds. You were not a fan of the way that Tolya and Zoya could get at each others throats. Zoya was always vicious, you didn't think she was capable of being anything but brutal in her honesty, Zoya had never learned what it meant to be soft. But Tolya, he is very capable of speaking his mind, even if he often chooses to be kind where he could be otherwise, it's Zoya that makes him likely to bite back. Zoya seemed to take his disinterest in her very personally, Zoya was under the impression everyone would fall to her feet, and Tolya just discounted her and her comments without a second thought. It confused her, and still even now it seems to annoy her. She does not want him, she just wants to be wanted.

"At least I do not squander it, love or duty," Zoya says, stone faced and tight lipped.

"You know nothing," Tolya states. Zoya just looks to you and then back to Tolya, and back to her work, not saying another word.

Tolya pulls himself away from the wall, and exits without saying a word. You follow him out and Zoya just shakes her head to herself, letting you both go. You follow him outside and the air is cool in the early evening air.

"Tolya?" you call after him. He stops but doesn't say anything. You feel like you shouldn't ask, that it would be best to let it go. You feel that if you ask then there is no way to un-ask. There is no turning back. But you cannot help yourself, you need to know. "What does Zoya mean?"

Tolya says nothing. But the weight in the air between you feels crushing.

"I don't think we should have this conversation," Tolya admits quietly. You've never known Tolya to be so reluctant to be honest about something with you, and you wish you didn't know at all why, but you have a unsettling feeling you do.

"Why?" you ask.

He doesn't look at you as he responds, "I think you know why."

“Is this because you believe that I could not love you? I do. I love you. I love you so much that I will do as you wish. If you do not love me, say you do not love me, and I will go… But first, you have to say that you do not love me.”

"I miss you when you are gone, your smile is more home to me than any place I have ever known, and I would move sea and sky to make sure no one would hurt you," Tolya says slowly, "but I cannot give you what you want."

"You do not know what it is that I want Tolya," you say, trying to keep a semblance of calm in your voice.

"You want this big love, this love that leaps from the page and demands to be experienced and I do not think I can give that to you," he says.

"You do not know what it is that I want Tolya," you repeat.

"I see it in the way you watch Tamar and Nadia, the way you smile watching Nikolai and Zoya dancing around one another, I see it in the way your heart quickens at these stories of romance and long awaited embraces," Tolya says.

"You still have not said that you do not love me," you say.

"Because I do not wish to lie to you," he says, sighing, "even if it's not the truth that would give you the answers you seek."

"Tolya, do you love me?" you ask, voice steady now, direct.

He looks up at the sky, and the sun is burning into the horizon in one long abrasion, the oranges and reds that flood the sky above reflect in his eyes, like the gentlest of fires. "I love you," he states, "I care for your happiness more than mine, there is something in me that reaches out for you, that seeks you in the dark, in the quiet, there is something in me that only knows how to be fed by you, that only knows how to be calm with you. There is something in me that is lost when not in your presence. Is that not what love is? When someone makes you feel more at home than any home you've ever known?" He meets your eyes now. "So yes, of course I love you. I love you in ways that I thought were reserved for literature and the Saints."

"Tolya."

"But it is not enough," he says, "I do not believe I know how to love you in the ways you need me to. The ways you want me to."

"Tolya."

"I do not want to take that love away from you," Tolya says, "just because I cannot be the one to give it to you."

"Tolya," you say, louder than before, more demanding. "Listen to me." He nods, closing his mouth to let you speak. "I do not care about what love and what feelings you do not feel for me. I do not care if you will never see me as Nadia sees Tamar, never love me in every way there is to be loved. I do not care, as long as you love me. It does not have to be the way others love, it just has to be real, it has to be ours." You swallow and your throat feels dry. "So Tolya, I ask you again, without expectation, without excuse, without comparing to your sister or our friends, their love is theirs, I am not asking for their love. I am not asking you to love me in the ways you do not. I am not wanting you to love me in any way except the ways you do. I am not asking you to love me Tolya. I am just asking, do you love me?"

"Yes," he says. In every way I know how, Tolya's mind whispers.

You smile. "That is all I have ever wanted," you say.

"I do not believe my feelings will change," he says.

"I do not wish for them to," you say.

"There are things I do not think I will ever be able to give you," he says. You shrug.

"I do not want them if you do not want them," you say.

"And this would be enough?" he asks.

"If all I ever have is you by my side as we walk this life, that will never leave me wanting," you say.

"I will continue to love you in every way I know how until the end, and I believe even after."

"I will never want for more."

#shadow and bone #grishaverse #tolya #tolya x reader #tolya yul bataar #six of crows #tolya and tamar #fanfiction #tolya my darling i adore you #tolya yul bataar fluff

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yaoxsblog · 9 months

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Can we get some more in depth headcanons about Herzegovina ?

anon you just made the worst mistake of your life. You are about to recieve a character analysis like nothing else.

But for the purpose of this being an "in depth" headcanon collection I'm leaving out my usual appearance headcanons because it doesn't apply here (unless the 'in depth' appearance headcanon you wish for is her having a mole under her right boob or something)

Oh and before we go ahead let me please also say this:

She is not my character. But this post may view her as so, because my version of her is so different from Tix' original character. Just so you know. Also, I am not a historian and therefore I will not get into any historical topics that may be relevant in this character's life, I am only going to talk about her as if she was a person. I hope you enjoy

Despite her mean looks and dominant aura, she’s only like that on the outside. It’s hard to really get under her skin to see what’s beloe her resting bitch face but I’ll try my best

She’s a very caring person. It really doesn’t seem that way from her behaviour, but she (almost) never actually means to do anyone any harm

She’s stern in looks and speech but that’s simply because of how she presents herself. She’s a task oriented person and will not stop until said task is completed, wether you like it or not.

Her emotions (mostly her anger) get in the way of things and because of that it can sometimes look like they are more in charge of her, than she is of them. That’s not entirely true, she’s a very logical person, it’s just that she’s impatient and has a short fuse.

In fact, when she’s not speaking, she’s most likely very busy in her mind. This makes her prone to zoning out and staring in one direction (and if that direction happens to be where you’re sitting, you might get the impression she’s planning to kill you).

In that way, her and Bosnia are simmilar. They both tend to think too much and zone out, especially in conversation. I just think Herze’s better at paying attention to her surroundings at the same time, and therefore doesn’t get the „airheaded” label that her husband is often stuck with.

By the way, I would like to mention that it’s not like I consider Enis to be „stupid” and Idriza to be „Smart”, mostly because I believe both of these labels are hurtful in different ways and should not be used towards people. Rather, I think they’re different from eachother and thats part of why I like them so much.

Back to Herze, her ability to focus on more than one thing at a time, coupled with her tendency to speak fast makes her witty in words, often snapping back at her conversation partner.

On Top of that, she’s snarky, sarcastic, and brutally honest.

Probably one of her biggest flaws is the fact that she simply does not care about the feelings of whoever she’s talking with. Winning an argument is more important than how the person is gonna feel.

She also doesn’t care about what others feel about her.

Contrary to someone like Tatjana, who’s very self concious about other people’s opinion of her, herze just… doesn’t.

The two last headcanons may potentially result from her being slightly narcissistic.

That doesn’t mean she’s a completely cold and heartless person - earlier I mentioned she cares about others and one of the ways she shows it is through her love language, which is acts of service.

And speaking of love language: it’s time to talk about her relationship with Bos.

I’ll start by saying, that even though I mentioned I won’t be adressing historical events, I stated in an earlier post that I headcanon Enis and Idriza got married while they were under the Ottoman empire, aka living with uncle Turkey.

They were both teenagers, being physically around 16 or 17, and before that, they didn’t really have any relationship besides „that boy is so loud, I don’t like him” and „that girl is so mean, I don’t like her”.

And when they got married it was mostly the same. Sure, they lived together, but they weren’t interested in eachother.

It was pretty…akward for the both of them, and it took a long time for them to even get along, and an even longer time to open up to eachother.

In current times their relationship is much different. They still don’t always get along, but now it’s less: „that boy is so loud” and more: „he’s so cheerful and funny”. Likewise, she is no longer: „that girl is so mean”, and more: „she is so confident and open about her thoughts”.

Living so long made them not only appreceate eachother, but also be able to understand the other person like no one else. Often instead of speaking, they simply exchange knowing looks.

For Herze, Enis has both the ability to calm her down in most situations, just as well as make her mad in literally 2 seconds. Perfectly balanced, as all things should be.

And now to talk about „the product of their love” (not really).

This is a tough one, because I have to talk about a headcanon I avoided talking about, but whatever I don’t care anymore.

Herze loves children. Babies to be specific. And one of my headcanons is that she always wanted one, but being a nation (I see you sitting in the back saying she’s a region not a nation and I do not care lol) of course, she can’t have one.

I feel like it’s that way for many nations, where they desire something that only humans can have - aging, children, falling in love and spending your life with them, a peaceful death etc.

And she just has baby fever.

That’s mostly why, I think she actually could potentially Love srpska. He’s not „hers”, and he can be a handful, but neither she, nor Bos resent him.

Like with Enis, she mostly shows it through actions, rather than words.

It’s simmilar on Ilija’s side too, she’s his mom and there’s no debate over it. He even calls her that, while he calls Enis by his name.

I also feel like with Bos - Srpska always denies him being his dad because he believes Vuk is his father, but with Herze? There’s no one else for him to choose from, really. And I think he doesn’t want to choose. After all, she takes good care of him.

But more on that in the next post about herze-mom-headcanons :DD

Lastly, I wanna talk about her… brother? Cousin?? I don’t even know. We’re gonna call Dražen her brother because thats my headcanon.

She definetly cares a lot about him. Is it onesided? Maybe, but Cro would probably never tell her she annoys him sometimes, even though thats how he feels.

I honestly think they were just closer when they were young, and little herze definetly idealized her big brother, so whatever admiration she has for him today is just what’s left of those times.

Because of that, even in present times, she treats him differently than others, having that little part that deeply respects him, she almost never raises her voice at him, or complain about something he Did.

So…. I think that’s all I wanted to say about her :))

Thank you so much for this ask anon, hope you and everyone else enjoyed the read.

#yugotalia #hetalia #aph herzegovina #bosherze #hetalia world stars #aph bosnia #balkantalia #aph croatia #yugotalia srpska #yaox realness

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rae-and-mezo · 1 year

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Tell me some more about Iris<3

I've fallen back into it and am currently reviving a couple of my ocs for Hl

Skskjsijduj GLADLY

her profile is still in the works but like eh

First of all, I'm going to explain this sheet, what she and these characters have in common.

1. Evelyn Hugo!

Evelyn does not give a shit who's in her way. If she wants something, she will get it. That's all there is too it. Evelyn asks Monique something along the lines of "when are you going to learn to grab life by the balls and take what you want from it?" She also is very well aware she isn't a great person and lives up to it. Never once does she deny it, and prefers the spotlight to be on her. Iris is exactly this.

2. Annabeth Chase

All Annabeth has ever wanted was to be seen and loved. She wants the world to notice her. In the second series Annabeth talks about how she never will be more than the brains, and if that's what it takes to be loved, then that's okay. Iris feels this way too. She feels like she will never be more than the adrenaline junkie of their little group, and that's fine. Also, Iris could relate to Annabeth because like, what are healthy coping skills??

3. Rose Dawson

I know this is an odd choice. But here's the thing. Iris is literally based off of Rose. Even her appearance! Rose is a spitfire, a loaded pistol. Her rage especially is what makes me think of Iris. The way she punches the guy in the face when he won't listen to her, and when she blows the smoke in her mother's face when told not to smoke just screams Iris. And also, I can just picture the scene where she smokes the guys cigarette and finishes his beer. She's batshit crazy y'know? And fearless. Which are two things Sebastian will tell you about Iris lol.

4. Emily Prentiss

Emily is infamously unafraid to get what she wants. She's harsh, unapologetic, and impulsive. The woman lived an entire life undercover in Europe! I think Iris could be this person as well, given the circumstances. Like Emily, Iris does not have any problem taking down the bad guy to save who she wants. Also, Iris is not afraid to take the blame or jump in for someone in need. And they're both heavily Lana del Rey coded-

5. Beth Dutton

Crazy. Beth's role throughout the show is the crazy, brutal, harsh and nasty woman unafraid of anything. Knuckles are always black and blue, and her words hurt just as much as her punches do. Iris and Beth both are not afraid to say things so disgustingly horrible. They don't think about consequences. Their tempers fly off the handle. Iris's jealous streak is just as bad as Beth's as well.

6. Rowena

This one is harder to explain. Rowena is very...evil. she has redeeming qualities of course but her role in the show is to be irritatingly evil. She's also very powerful. Iris isn't evil per se but she's unapologetic in her flaws.

Headcanons

Born to Die- Paradise Edition, would be the soundtrack to her life if I'm being honest. Carmen is her theme song.

She's very elegant but her words are v i l e. Like she swears too much for someone modern, let alone a Victorian lady.

You will hardly catch her out of her high heels

Her patronus is a tiger

She loves the grotesque. Catch her trying to get a better view of a dead bird, admiring a painting of a dead man. She just thinks the horrifying has a certain beauty.

Straight A (E?) Student and the teachers just love her. However, most of the students don't. She's too bitchy lol.

Does not hold grudges oddly enough. Like she's willing to put aside the past for everyone but her family.

She's a halfblood, but she was adopted. So all her siblings are muggles.

She's a descendent of Gryffindor!

Despite her gift with dueling and transfiguration, she can't do shit outside of that. The only reason she is passing anything else is because Sebastian gives her his notes.

Sebastian is a little scared of her. She likes that.

#iris rosewood #hphl #hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow #hphl mc

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cumulohimbus · 1 year

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A Transcript of M’s Transphobic Letter to Me (from mid-Sept. 2018)

I am transcribing this for posterity, and so I can remove the images of it from my phone. This was a four page long, handwritten letter I received in the mail 6 months after coming out publicly as trans & queer, from a former Catholic Confirmation teacher.

Four years ago I thought it was silly, but it still hurt. Today it just reads as ridiculous and deeply unhinged; I feel bad for the person who wrote this. I later burned the letter in my fire pit, surrounded by friends.

[Dead Name] - (I know you use a different name now so I’ll explain later on in this letter why I use the name given to you at birth) -

...[this section just talks about my starting college and moving out on my own]...

Now - onto other - for me quite hard to accept - subjects. I’m having an extremely hard time accepting this whole transgender trend. And yes, I do believe it’s a trend. Being confused as a child and a teenager in reference to a person’s sexuality is quite normal. Experimentation with homosexuality is also quite normal and has been going on since time began. I have no problem accepting the confusion or experimentation. However, I do have a hard time with the concept of so many people recently stating they are “trans”. You were born with a vagina - as far as I know you still have one - hence - you are a female! I know you’ve struggled with your mental health for many years. I’m so sorry you were given that cross to bear. I know it’s not easy. However, I do feel, especially in your case, that this wanting to be “male” is, unfortunately, another aspect of a mental demon. I remember in Confirmation Class you telling me you thought you might be bi-sexual. Ok - fine - that I can live with. But have you given very serious consideration to how injections of a hormone may affect you long term? As in, twenty or more years from now? That can’t be good for you - or anyone else. You may not feel like a “woman” because you prefer short hair, or you don’t like wearing dresses or make-up. Fine! Don’t do those things! Because society dictates what “feminine” is does not make you less of a female. It simply makes you a person outside of society’s norm. Please do not let what is concerned “normal” make you do something crazy! Short hair does not make you less feminine, nor does going without high heels. Mutilating the the body God gave you - is not the answer. God created you in His image! Don’t get me wrong - you are loved - beyond [illegible, crossed out text] understanding - by God. And I love you too, no matter what. But I am worried about you! As for the name thing. - Your Mother gave you a beautiful name. A name she chose specifically for you! Again, do not let society dictate what is or is not a “feminine” or “masculine” name. I do not understand why a certain name has to be gender specific. Hence, to me you are [Dead Name] and you always will be. I’m certain by now you’re upset with me. I’m sorry. I figured if I was honest about my feelings you would get angry, but it’s a chance I’m willing to take (I tend to be a bit on the brutal side of brutally honest.) You know I’m always here for you and no matter what choice you make that will stand. But please do not let this all be an attention grabber. Keep praying and discerning. Keep your spirits up and keep smiling.

Love & hugs, -M

#transphobia #the Larkchive #M's transphobic letter #archive #homophobia #ableism

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dearlilo-library · 1 year

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On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous - Ocean Vuong // Review

"Yes, there was a war. Yes, we came from its epicenter. In that war, a woman gifted herself a new name -- Lan -- in that naming claimed herself beautiful, then made that beauty into something worth keeping. From that, a daughter was born, and from that daughter, a son. All this time I told myself we were born from war -- but I was wrong, Ma. We were born from beauty. Let no one mistake us for the fruit of violence -- but that violence, having passed through the fruit, failed to spoil it."

-Ocean Vuong

A beautifully written confessional; this is one of the few books that made me want to read slow and dissect every lyrical sentence.

This book is a fictional novel inspired by the author's real life. We meet the main character, Little Dog, and learn about the story of his childhood through a written letter addressed to his illiterate mother. Knowing that she will most likely never read this letter, he writes openly about growing up as a refugee in America; how the war impacted his family and his relationships with them well after it ended, his complicated relationship with his mother, and discovering his sexuality in a town that perpetuated the American definition of masculinity.

-------- My Opinion --------

Ocean Vuong brings his poetic style of writing into this brutally honest and unique story that left me laughing at some scenes and crying at others. Using poetic elements like vignettes, prose, and metaphors, this story explores the beauty that comes from pain, the happiness that comes from sadness, and the space in-between. My favorite quote from this book (outside from the one above that I feel is a good quote that describes the essence of this book)

"Ma, I don't know if you've made it this far in this letter -- or if you've made it here at all. You always tell me it's too late for you to read, with your poor liver, your exhausted bones, that after everything you've been through, you'd just like to rest now. That reading is a privilege you made possible for me with what you lost. I know you believe in reincarnation. I don't know if I do but I hope it's real. Because then maybe you'll come back here next time around. Maybe you'll be a girl and maybe your name will be Rose again, and you'll have a room full of books with parents who will read you bedtime stories in a country not touched by war. Maybe then, in that life and in this future, you'll find this book and you'll know what happened to us. And you'll remember me. Maybe." (pg. 240)

As a refugee whose family escaped war, I found this book to be relatable in many ways, starting with his complicated relationship with his mother. We see the complexity of their relationship in the contrasting scenes; in one paragraph his mother slaps him and in the next he recalls a good memory of them two at the dollar store together. We see these contrasting scenes a few times in the beginning, but he never expresses any hatred toward her for this or holds any grudges toward her. Of course he's hurt and confused as any child would be, but this doesn't sour their relationship and instead, in his later years as he's writing this letter to her, he finds sympathy for her. He recognizes that her pain comes from her past, even researching about parents with PTSD and how they're more likely to hit their children. I think this is a relationship that many refugee children can relate to, even myself with my own mother. I often look back at how I grew up, both the good times and the bad times with her, and while I do feel sympathy for myself as a child growing up in that situation with her, I feel even more sympathy for her. The things that she's seen in her childhood, the war that took away her right to an education, all of these moments and inalterable situations that altered the course of her life forever. And she never complains. I often wonder who she would have become if given the opportunities that I was given; that she gave to me. I wonder who she would be if she were in my shoes.

I think another point that really resonated with me, although not necessarily a highlighted theme in the book, is the difficulty of being raised with two different cultures. At home you're one person but at school you're another. I do wish this were touched on a little bit more in the book, but I don't feel the book loses any points for not doing so.

Overall, this so far has been my favorite read of the year and I've given it 4.5/5. I look forward to reading future work from Ocean Vuong.

#books and reading #booklover #book review #book recommendations #bookshelf #books and literature #reading #book #literature #quotes #book quotes #book lover

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finsterhund · 1 year

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Canada fucking Post rang my doorbell and apparently tried to deliver a neighbor's package to my house.

I cannot fucking believe this. I have dyscalclia and I know the difference between numeral digits for fucks sake. No wonder they fucking lost a package earlier this year. God. I'm excitedly waiting for the things my friends sent me and my own little present that I got giftwrapped "from Cazza" and I hear the doorbell and it's someone else's package and now I'm worried that this has kept happening and my neighbors are all losing packages.

Some good news is that the government is potentially unlocking my roommate's bank in a few days? But he needs to fucking pay off his taxes. It's bullshit he owes them so much and fuck the government but shit sucks. I'm just relieved it's going to be less of my problem as selfish as that is. But maybe I can afford to be selfish all things considered.

I'm still really mad tbh. Taxes are such a stupid thing. Forced to pay to exist in a country you never consented to being born in.

If it were up to me blah blah blah sovereign citizens cave man hunter gatherers bigfoot blah blah blah we get it Andy.

So I need to let off some steam. I'm not really sick anymore just sore throat still. My stomach hurts real bad from stress though. I've still gotta be a money mule for a few more days but if anything that means I get to to outside and to places. I like going to places. It sucks though because my bank is currently in overdraft so every time I use it I'm charge a 5 dollar fee. I really need to go in to the bank and ask them to change my overdraft plan so I'm charged once a month rather than once every day I use it.

No relaxation for Andy. Worst time of the year.

Part of me hopes I die in surgery at this point if I'm being brutally honest. It just feels so pointless to keep trying.

I need to refill my meds too soon and I have blood work early January.

Humans are supposed to depend on each other to survive that's how we evolved to look after each other but I constantly feel like I'm a liability to everyone else and that everyone in person around me is a liability to me. No support network. I should fucking be used to that but it's so antithetical to the human experience I guess I never will.

Miss Cazza so much. If she didn't have cancer she could have passed the public access test and gotten certified and we could have maybe moved to the farmhouse or something. I'm glad we don't have the ability to look into alternate universes I really would kill myself then.

Currently a bag of nerves waiting until my roommate is ready to go and do his chores around town. I need to go because I don't want to just give him my bank card lol

Maybe I'm too tolerant but I'm too tired at this point. Who fucking cares. I'm mentally 12 and I can't survive on my own so I can't afford to be picky.

People try to give me shit for staying here but they don't seem to understand I don't have a choice.

Wish my grandparents were still alive

Sad

#text post #negative #long post

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nesrinadem · 2 years

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do you prefer to be loved or respected?

“Uhm. I don’t think love exists without respect, to be honest, but I’ll stick with respected. I think— I think so long as you have that anything is possible. There’s hope for more down the line. And even though hope can be brutal at times, it’s still a beautiful feeling to hold onto.”

do you lie?

“I’ve never been very good at keeping things off my face, so no. Not directly. But I’ve... kept things to myself in the past. I guess in a way I still do.”

have you ever lied to someone you love?

“— yes. I guess technically I have. I mean, omission is the same thing, right? The wounds you cause when you leave something out hurt just as much as being dishonest to someone’s face. So even though I never told Matty I didn’t have our baby, I never told him that I did. That was a lie. I never reached out to some of my closest friends, like Margot or Armin, to let them know where I was or that I was okay. That was a lie, too.” - @mattsullivan, @margotmoore, and @arminxkhan

finish the sentence: I want...

“I want to wake up in a kinder world than the one we’re currently living in.”

would you rather: be admired by all or loved by few?

“Loved by a few. Absolutely. I don’t need a lot, and will almost always ask for even less. I don’t need a crowd of adoring fans cheering me one from the sidelines of life. Just one or two people who genuinely love me for me. That’s it. I’d be happy.”

fame or fortune

“Uhm... fortune? I guess? I don’t— I don’t do very well with attention so fame sounds excruciating. And while I’ve learned over the years that money can definitely make your day to day life easier, it’s by no means the most important thing. Some of my best memories were made with five dollar sandwich fixings, or a couple of glued together popsicle sticks and scraps of an old shirt. So is it nice? Sure. Do I need it? No. If I suddenly found myself with a fortune tomorrow I’m not even sure what I’d do with it. Probably set aside the majority for Selvi, for the grandchildren she might give me one day. Buy Tali a house with a huge backyard so she doesn’t have to keep trekking out to my place to get anything from her garden. Maybe buy myself a new dress, or finally upgrade my phone.” - @talitadr

reading or writing

“Am I allowed to say both? Because both. I enjoy reading when I need to step outside of my own life for a little while. Or when I’m feeling really lonely and want to at least pretend I’m surrounded by the characters taking shape in my head. But writing— I find writing kind of therapeutic. Sometimes pen and paper is the only way I can get the words out of my head. Or they become the tools for making my better memories immortal on some tucked away page. Journaling has... sometimes been my only companion. I could never write professionally, but I do enjoy it in that just for me kind of way.”

#❝ love letters to ghosts — inbox.

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the-daydreaming-show · 2 years

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𝐖𝐞 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐨𝐮...

𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐔𝐬: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 (you are there) - 5 - 6 - 7- 8 - Epílogo.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After Alfred Pennyworth is freed from the Wayne Manor anomaly, he begins to get some perspective on what happened and explains that maybe the only person who can stop it all is the one who created it. In the Batcave, trapped within the confines of the anomaly, Bruce Wayne and Tim Drake begin to understand more of what they're up against, as they tune in to The Wayne's Show every moment of the day in the hope that they can finally be a part of it again.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫(𝐬): Bruce Wayne x ScarletWitch!Reader; Jason Todd x Batmom!Reader; Dick Grayson x Batmom!Reader; Tim Drake x Batmom!Reader

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: Thank you all for the support you have give to this history, it means the world to me and I hope you enjoy his chapter!!

English is not my first language, please be patient.

𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭: @some-lovely-day @simonsbluee @yuki-chan23 @miyakana

If anyone wants me to tag you in the publication of the next chapter so they find out as soon as I upload it let me know.

Alfred wasn't sure when it all started because the events that led to him, your son, and yourself being locked away in a sitcom fantasy cut off from the outside world unfolded over the course of six months. Jason's death was just the tip of the iceberg.

But if he had to guess what the last piece was that brought down the fragile house of cards that was your state of mind, he'd say it was the night before it all began.

Dick had arrived a few days before, he had been helping the Teen Titans with an important mission that you had insisted he go on even though your eldest son was determined to stay by your side as long as possible. He had also been on a mission with the Teen Titans when Jason had died, in the middle of space, having learned of the tragic event almost a month later when the team had returned to earth. The boy had found his mother dying of worry because she had lost a son at the hands of the Joker and now had no way of communicating with the other without invading the privacy of his mind. If he had been on earth you would not have worried much before getting into his mind to say hello and ask how he was, it was something your children were used to, but he was on a mission and the very idea that with your invading presence in his mind he could get distracted at a crucial moment and end up injured (or worse, dead too) prevented you from getting out of your mind during that time.

The first week after the tragedy, the League had offered to take care of Gotham while you and your husband mourned Jason's death.

Bruce had agreed and you guys didn't left each other for a few days, but by the second week, it became almost torture to see you lying in Jason's bed every afternoon, watching the sunrise from the bedroom window waiting for something. He didn't know what you expected, and to be honest, you didn't either, but seeing you like this wasn't something he could take anymore, to make matters worse he couldn't do anything to ease your pain either. He had caused it himself. He had let their son be brutally murdered, he hadn't arrived in time to save him and now you suffered from his failure but you refused to put any blame on his head.

"The Joker was the one who murdered Jason, Bruce" you told him at night that he couldn't stop dreaming about the ghost of his son haunting him, saying how much he hated him, and he woke up sobbing “It wasn't your fault, my love. It wasn't” you assured him, but you were too deep in your mind to notice how your words fell on empty ears.

So he did something he had never done in the years they had been married: He pushed you away, too embarrassed and hurt to talk about his pain without feeling hypocritical about it.

He told Clark and Diana that he was going back to the streets, put on his suit, and went out, so when your son came home he not only faced the lack of his little brother but found that Bruce had abandoned you for two weeks in the mansion with only the occasional company of Alfred, who had to divide his time between making sure Bruce didn't get lost under the mask, seeing that you ate all your meals and his grief over the loss of his grandson.

Your eldest son didn't leave your side, he stayed there every second he could. He tried to be your comfort but deep down he knew that only Bruce could do that, but the man was very stubborn and the idea of causing more pain with his presence terrified him. You told him you were fine and instead dedicated yourself to helping him through his pain. He couldn't deny, you were his mom, the woman who had welcomed him as her son after he felt he had lost everything on that tragic night when his parents died, so he had let you hear him talk about his regrets, about how he wished more than anything in the world to have spent more time with his brother, to have allowed himself to be a big brother properly.

Then Tim Drake appeared, an eleven-year-old boy who was very skinny and tall for his age, but the holes left by his baby teeth gave away how young he was.

By some twist of fate, you had been the one who opened the door that day and welcomed him into the house, you guided him to your husband's office and then you saw him leave the house with his head down at the end of that same afternoon.

"I know that your husband is Batman and I know that the Scarlet Witch is not dead, I know that you are her" the boy had said at one point after you had opened the door for him, leaving you in total shock, and at that moment you knew without need to enter into his mind what the boy wanted.

For the first time in almost a month, you and Bruce had had a decent conversation after he had left, but even before exchanging words you had both agreed adamantly that Tim couldn't turn into Robin, they had learned that lesson with Jason and no one else would wear that suit. You had agreed.

"Robin died with Jason, Bruce" you had told him while he hugged you against his chest, both of you were lying in bed together for the first time in a long time "Never again" you repeated, you were no longer crying, you had no desire to cry.

“Never” Bruce had repeated, kissing your head and settling down with you in his arms to sleep a full night for the first time since your son's death.

After that everything seemed to find its way to a new routine. Tim had refused to give up so easily, he had haunted the mansion for several days and followed in the footsteps of Batman for several nights causing your husband to have him sent home in a police car for mysteriously appearing at crime scenes.

You weren't surprised that the boy didn't pursue his mission to help Bruce, but if you're surprised that no one stopped him, the boy's parents didn't seem too concerned when his eleven-year-old son returned to the family's quaint home in a posh neighborhood several times in a police car. You could even say they didn't even notice.

You took matters into your own hands by convincing Bruce to let the boy help out in the Batcave, where he would fulfill his mission of aiding Batman while remaining safely under your and Alfred's watch. Or so you thought.

You felt betrayed. For Alfred, because he let him out when your husband and oldest son needed help without thinking of talking to you first, your husband for not being angrier about it, and yourself for not being able to avoid looking at Jason when you saw Tim in the new Robin suit that he had designed himself. The worst of all is that you had taken a liking to the child.

But how not to?

Tim was such a good boy, very intelligent and with a gentle character, he was not used to the constant attention of his parents, so every time he received even a small compliment from you or Bruce, his face lit up without being able to control it. He had realized that although Bruce could be somewhat stubborn or dry in approving of his actions, opting to do so quietly most of the time, it was you who was least likely to approve of him. The boy had taken this as some kind of challenge. Of course, you would have high standards, you were the Scarlet Witch, one of the most powerful magical beings in the multiverse, founding member of the Justice League, and had single-handedly escaped Planet Apocalypse after the world had left you for dead (technically you were still dead in the public eye), you wouldn't be impressed just by him stopping common heists or taking on minor Gotham villains.

Tim wanted to impress you so much, he wanted you to be proud of his performance as Robin and for you to realize that he was making good use of your son's legacy. You had been the only person who had remained negative towards him becoming Robin even after Bruce had changed his mind, after they'd come back that first night you and Bruce had stayed in the cave. No one heard the screams from upstairs in the mansion, but there was something in the air that let you know that you were both having the worst argument you've ever had, even Dick, who was always trying to keep his composure, seemed worried that day when you two didn't went upstairs after a full hour. When they finally did, clearly the two of you weren't on speaking terms, the argument had gotten you nowhere, but still, Bruce started training him while you just ignored him. You didn't go down to the cave, only when Dick asked you to or if Alfred had the night off, which from what Tim had witnessed was very rare.

Perhaps it was that desperation to impress you that was one of the main pieces of the puzzle that were the situation they were in. Alfred had seen how Tim made an effort to impress you, also seeing how you were too lost for noticing what is happening around, Dick had noticed it too, but you were more reluctant to let him see how bad you were because he was your son and you wouldn't put that weight on his shoulders, so he hadn't cared as much as he should have.

The Fear Toxin had a very special place on your list of things you hate in this life. Your powers didn't have many limitations, almost none one could say, but the toxin had a way of acting on people's minds that prevented you from handling the fear in their minds without causing more fear. It was to some extent more physical than mental as if the toxin gave them the sensitivity to feel your magic over their minds, causing them more fear and paranoia. You had made that mistake with Bruce in your first days together, you had learned that trying to dispel fear was not the solution, but guiding them through it. When Dick first suffered it he was only nine years old and you had spent five hours hugging him, talking to him, calling him using your magic to hug him and make him feel safe without necessarily invading his mind. Jason was there for ten hours, he was losing consciousness and regaining it until it was finally over. Over time, Bruce developed an antidote that neutralized the effects almost instantly, but that wasn't until Tim had already been adopted, a year and a half after he became Robin.

You weren't in the cave when they arrived, you were in the library, reading one of the books that Jason had loved to read in his spare time and which you hadn't read for yourself until after he died even though he had recommended it to you many times. It was as if something changed in the air, you just knew it and appeared in the cave.

You didn't even look at Bruce and Dick to see if they were okay, you went straight to Tim to take care of him. You treated him as you had with your two older children, you hugged him to hold him so he stopped shaking, you talked to him constantly and stroked his hair, in the end, he buried his head in your neck while enduring the effects of the toxin, all while maneuvering Alfred to dress the wounds on his abdomen. You're not sure how long you were with him but when you put him in his bed, the sun was starting to rise.

You were hoping that Tim would stay in bed for a couple of days like Dick and Jason had done at the time, but when Alfred woke you up the next day around six in the evening (you've been sleeping a lot lately) you found that the boy wasn't in bed but the cave.

"What is he doing down here, Bruce?" she had whispered-screamed to him when he had been close enough to you, your bare feet felt cold against the cave floor and your silk robe, untied over your pajamas (which had become your usual attire), floated behind you as you walked. Alfred had followed you into the cave, worried that walking so fast and moving so much after so many days of doing almost nothing and eating little would cause you to pass out, just like it had on other occasions.

“He insisted, y/n” express your husband as unhappy with all this as you "When I came down in the morning he was already here" he explained and gave Alfred a look, who was behind you, as if asking for help, but the butler had given him the same speech in the morning and if he had to trust someone to bring her husband to reason was in you.

"He's 11 years old, Bruce" you reproached him "You're the adult in the situation, act like it and send him to bed before they break the seams in his abdomen" you pointed to the place where Tim was working on the batcomputer. That caught the attention of Tim and Dick, the latter being trained a little further away, but easier to hear the conversation.

“He's sitting, he won't do anything but monitor the computer, but I can't just lock him up” Bruce defended himself as if it were obvious.

"Oh please, Bruce" you exclaimed frustrated "I am NOT asking you to lock him in the room, I am telling you not to let him work when he has just been seriously injured because we both know he won't sit still in that chair" you pointed out, the discussion it was beginning to be screaming.

Tim, who had already been attentive to the argument, could now hear what you were saying and realized that the argument was about him. He wasn't sure how to feel about it, a part of him felt guilty, but at the same time, he was upset. He didn't understand why you couldn't like him, he had done nothing but walk on eggshells since he had become Robin because it seemed that you didn't want to accept it. There were days when he would catch you staring at him with a bewildering mix of emotions on your face only to have you then just walk away from him quickly. As if it were the plague.

"Mom" Dick called out to you suddenly, drawing the boy's attention and bringing him back to the situation he was in.

You had disappeared from the room. Alfred had given Bruce a look before leaving the cave in the elevator, he too was conflicted on what to do about this situation. On the one hand, he understood Bruce's argument that locking Tim up would only make him more unsettled, but he also knew your concerns were valid, so he could only hope you would calm down and they could talk about it. He went to the kitchen, he didn't need to look for you, he knew where you were because it's always the same place when emotions overwhelm you.

Jason's grave, located next to the grave of Martha and Thomas Waynes, is under a tree that shaded all three headstones, in front of her you usually sat watching without doing anything else, you just thought and you usually went back in at dinner time.

While Alfred was making some tea to calm you down, Dick had come out of the cave and gone to get you a coat in your room, he also knew where you were and in recent days the weather had been colder than normal, something very out of place considering that it is spring and summer is about to start.

Dick had started down the stairs and Alfred was putting a cookie on a plate so he'd have something to eat too when it happened, the red of your power running through the property like a wave. The color disappeared, all the objects went back in time until they became versions that fit the atmosphere. The alarm began to sound in the Batcave. And the Show began.

As he returned wrapped in scarlet, Alfred couldn't think straight, he felt wrapped in pillows and cotton, the speed made him dizzy. He managed to look at the large estate one last time before being engulfed by the barrier that surrounded the entire little world you had created, the anguish that sank into his chest as it all came back clearly to him: Jason, his death, the fights, Tim's arrival, the incident the night before, and then the start of the show.

When he came out of the anomaly the magic let him fall slowly onto the grass before disappearing. He could feel the grass under him, he could hear the sounds around him but his mind was still too drugged by your spell to fully register what was causing them.

He opened his eyes slowly to meet a familiar face. For a moment he thought it was Bruce, but as his mind settled back into his own will he realized it wasn't his son. The perfectly slicked-back hair and the giant S on his chest made it clear who the man was trying to speak to him.

"Alfred, the paramedics are on their way" said the superman next to him.

"Bruce" he called to the old man in his semi-consciousness "Where is my son?" he asked before falling to the exhaustion that resisting your magic generated.

"What's the last thing you remember?" Wonder Woman asked from her place sitting in one of the chairs arranged around the table in the Portable Command Center that had been set up just outside Wayne Manor.

"I was making tea and biscuits in the kitchen for Mrs. Wayne" Alfred began narrating from his site “Through the window, I saw her crouch down in front of young Jason's grave, I turned to get the water off the fire and then… ”his breath caught.

"What did you feel when you woke up on the sitcom?" John Constantine asked from where he was, sitting next to him was Zatanna Zatara, just as curious about the situation as he was.

"I'm not sure" confessed the butler "I remember feeling distraught, I was in the dark, then I heard Mrs. Wayne's voice calling me" he looked at the screen where the live image of the Batcave was being projected and next to it the reruns of previous episodes of The Wayne's Show "She invited me to join the Show, to be part of the family and I accepted, I didn't know exactly what it meant but I knew it promised something better, after that, I went into the kitchen and found Mrs. Wayne there" he didn't mention Jason, or «The Creation» as he had been dubbed from the outside, he still couldn't understand how he couldn't possibly be real. Maybe a part of him still didn't want to believe it.

"How do you know what the 'script' was?" Superman asked, from his place closest to Alfred.

"I didn't know, it wasn't that I was told what to say exactly" he explained, as confused with his own words as the people at the table around him.

"How did you know what to do then?" Zatanna asked.

“I just knew that I had to go on with the day, I was not forced to do or say anything, I was part of the story as naturally as you breathe” he explained wanting to make it clear that there was never any aggregation on your part, although the circumstances made it clear that it was undoubtedly the cause of all this. The room fell silent as everyone processed the words he just said, like putting together a puzzle, until finally, someone spoke.

"What about creation?" Constantine asked, causing the atmosphere to darken a bit, no one wanted to ask the fake Jason question, it was too painful to even remember the young life that no longer existed and that is the reason all this is happening. Alfred looked at him "Is it real or just an illusion?" the most important question from Zatanna's point of view and why would they answer a lot of technical questions that would help them discern the magnitude of the situation.

"He is real, as real as any of us" Alfred assured. John and Zatanna looked at each other, quietly worried.

"What does that mean?" asked Superman who had noticed the look and heard the leap in both their hearts "What's going on?" he asked again.

Clark and you had been friends for many years, you were from his point of view almost like his little sister and you saw him the same way. When he had just started as Superman in Metropolis, you had come out of nowhere as the Scarlet Witch to help him from time to time. You had become close because you both understood what it meant to be a stranger on this planet. Now he felt guilty for not keeping a closer eye on you after Jason because now you were in a dangerous situation: if it was you who controlled the anomaly, it meant that only you could undo it if you became hostile in your delicate mental state you could pose a danger to everyone in Gotham. They would have to stop you one way or another and he didn't want to think about what that meant.

"How is she?" Zatanna kept asking, ignoring Clark and focusing on getting answers out of Alfred "Does she seem aware of the situation she's in, or does she seem to be controlled as well?"

"It's strange" Alfred reflected “At times it seems that Mrs. Wayne is aware of the tragedy, but she doesn't believe that the Jason next to her is fake. She knows there's something outside the mansion property but I don't think it's coincident with what's on this side, she just knows it's bad and that's why she expelled me. She considered me to be corrupted from the outside and that would endanger the children” he explained looking at nothing.

John Constantine let out a heavy sigh, one he'd been holding for a while, and looked back at Zatanna.

"Well, we're in a difficult situation" he began, leaning on the table with his elbows.

"Why? What is going on?" Clark questioned him again, becoming increasingly impatient for answers.

"The Scarlet Witch is the carrier of Chaos Magic, a very ancient magic that she brought from another world" Zatanna spoke, she tried to begin to shed light on the whole matter “There are no born wielders of Chaos Magic in our world, there probably never will be. So even I as Sorceress Supreme am unable to easily handle this situation” she admitted sternly.

"We believe that Miss Scarlet has had what is commonly known as a nervous breakdown or something of the sort," continued John "The problem was that, when he suffered it, his magic went on some sort autopilot, to call it something" he explained.

"Automatic pilot?" Flash asked, confused.

“Have you ever overheated a computer until it shuts down?” Zatanna asked and the redhead nodded quickly “It's similar but in the case of Chaos Magic, instead of letting y/n pass out, it created an environment around her that could keep her away from whatever caused her crisis. Protecting her somehow from her pain,” she explained.

"Her magic created this little magic bubble" John waved his arm absently to where Wayne Manor should be “To spare its owner further pain, a kind of desperate act of self-preservation. An y/n aware of her actions probably wouldn't have made a decision as radical as this” he pointed to which they all agreed.

"So this wasn't intentional" Clark spoke up, more than relieved.

"Then what do we do?" Batman spoke for the first time, capturing everyone's attention.

"We don't know" admitted Constantine "But whatever we do must be very careful and cautious, because there is no magic in this world that prevents her from expanding the anomaly the moment she feels that we are threatening to enter and destroy her world" he sentenced.

At the same time that John finished speaking, one of the alarms began to sound on the computer.

"Someone is approaching the perimeter of the anomaly on the north side of the property" Batman explained.

Superman and Flash immediately disappeared from the scene, running and flying to the point where the anomaly where the intrusion was happening had been alerted. But they only found the wall of magic, usually not tangible to the naked eye, beginning to lose its red hue indicating that whoever had been there having already passed through it and was already inside the bubble.

“I don't know who it was” joked Constantine when they returned. “We'll find out in the next episode,” he said and looked at the screen where the replay of the last episode of The Wayne's Show began to show the credits.

"Whoever it was, they were probably invited" Alfred assured, surprisingly sure of his statement.

"How do you know?" Diane asked.

"As I told you today, Mrs. Wayne didn't force me into the scene, I agreed" the perceptive butler reminded him.

"Who would she want inside so badly that she would invite in from the outside the one she fears so much?" Superman asked out loud.

"Someone that she knows needs help as much as she does" said Bruce and looked at Green Arrow, the others imitated his action "When was the last time you spoke with your pupil?" he asked him.

#batfam x reader #batmom #death in the family #dick grayson x batmom #jason todd x batmom #justice league imagine #tim drake x batmom

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marvelandimagine · 3 years

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I think some people mad about the arm is not necessarily about the fact that Ayo disabling the arm itself, it's more of the fact that it was not necessary and the fact that Bucky had no idea they can do that. If I were to be honest, I think it was not that necessary because Ayo is well capable of taking him down without having to disarm him and she is definitely not threatened by him. I think what some people find upsetting about that scene is the fact that it kinda comes off as Ayo putting Bucky in a position where it would make him feel like he doesn't have full control of his own body after all. The Wakandans, especially Ayo, T'Challa and Shuri had every right to feel betrayed and upset but the point is they should have told Bucky about how the arm can easily be disabled like that, they didn't know Bucky was going to set Zemo free when they gave him the arm and regardless of the things they have done for him and if they were ones who gave him the arm, they should have at least told him about it, because it's connected to him, it's a part of HIS body. It doesn't matter if it was necessary to disarm him or not, the point is they should have told him about it because apart from the fact that it's his body and that it was a bit insensitive given his history, it's also a point of vulnerability, and the fact that she did it in front of Walker (and possibly Zemo) --- people who can easily turn on Bucky, could easily that to their advantage and attempt to disable it themselves. Just my thoughts on it.

Thank you for sharing your perspective, anon!

I’m going to use this long-ass reply to address this stuff with Ayo and also voice some thoughts I’ve had over the past few weeks seeing people paint Bucky into being this complete soft and harmless human that needs 25-7 protection which I don’t jive with — and this is me, a complete Bucky stan.

Many moons ago, I saw a post that compared 1940s Bucky moving with stealth and a loaded gun on the train to the Winter Soldier doing the same thing, essentially discussing the similarities and debating how much of non-brainwashed Bucky was in the Soldier. And I think the fandom forgets or chooses to neglect the following when painting him as this fragile, peace-loving guy:

Bucky was an incredibly skilled sniper in the United States Army. His job is to eliminate threats in the most efficient way possible, and he’s good at it. HYDRA gets their hands on him and + the serum, this gets magnified. It wasn’t like HYDRA turned him into someone with the ability and mental capacity to kill — that was already there. The brainwashing and torture just carved out the rest of him to leave those honed skills and an amplified ruthlessness with no moral issues, no sense of self to contend with. That ruthlessness is part of Bucky, whether people like it or not.

When Bucky is outside of HYDRA for the first time and hiding in Civil War and gets attacked, he’s so brutal in his actions that Steve Rogers, the man who literally was ready to die to save Bucky and free him when no one else believed in the good in him, intervenes because “Buck, you’re going to kill someone.” Bucky responds that he’s not going to kill anyone, but the fact remains: with or without HYDRA control, Bucky has a strong capacity for violence that hovers on brutality — again, what’s the most efficient way to eliminate or neutralize a threat? Like, I don’t want to kill you, but I’ll knock your ass out with cinder blocks to the chest.

Bucky has a good heart, he’s loyal, he’s smart, he’s caring, he’s the longest-standing POW in history and was turned into a slave for decades, put through unimaginable trauma and torture and horror with no escape. Bucky is also a strong and incredibly skilled super soldier who has a bionic arm, is a trained sniper, is unnervingly precise with knives, and self-describes himself as “semi-stable.” Zemo notes in the bar that “it didn’t take Bucky long to get back into form,” and he’s right because the ruthlessness and skill of the Winter Soldier is a part of him and always has been. We see it when he has his hand around Zemo’s neck and tells him he will kill him, when he rips the glass from his hand and throws it across the room.

And I’m sure the Wakandans know all this about Bucky, this light and his ability for hard-to-stop violence, whether from talking to Steve and Bucky or doing their own homework. And they still choose to help him out of the goodness of their hearts because he’s been put through hell and they believe they have the capacity to help him and it’s the right thing to do — they’re betting more on those positive attributes. And they put a failsafe on his arm, a literal weapon, and chose not to tell him. You know why I think that shows how much they did care about him? Because they could’ve blatantly come out and said “Hey, we don’t trust you,” and hurt him outright, but they didn’t because they’re betting on the light in Bucky to outweigh the dark or any future manipulation. That it’s a worst-case scenario function they hope to never have to use — so they’re prepared if shit hits the fan, and if it doesn’t, Bucky doesn’t have to be hurt feeling like he can’t be trusted. I see no issues here, they’re just being cautious.

Now coming to Ayo, my QUEEN Ayo. From that beautiful, beautiful opening scene, we get to see her support, her reassurance, her belief that Bucky will be able to work through this, even when he doesn’t believe it himself. She watches him fight and struggle and cry, and you can feel the hope in her and how moved she is when she gets to tell him it worked, he did it — he’s free. And she says it not once, but twice. And you can hear not just the comfort, but the PRIDE and warmth in her voice directed to him, who I’m sure she’s watched throughout the whole deprogramming process and gotten to know and is happy to see him work through the pain and come out on the other side.

And then she sees that same individual make a decision in freeing Zemo that she perceives as a “fuck you” not just to her country, but to her, someone who was charged with protecting her king. She could’ve just disarmed Bucky the second they met up, but she doesn’t. She takes the time to explain her side and her feelings, her guilt and her shame, and basically implies that she feels betrayed by Bucky because Wakanda helped him and now he’s doing something that’s hurting her country. And still, she doesn’t attack or just go get Zemo. She gives Bucky the benefit of the doubt and a whole 8-hour American workday to do what he has to do because again, she believes in the best of him. And then that time limit runs up, and he chooses to get in her way.

And that’s the final straw. She’s angry, she’s guilty, she’s frustrated, and she feels betrayed hurt by someone I think she did respect and care about, someone whom she worked with and helped and supported when he was his most vulnerable. Did she “need” to disarm the arm to fight Bucky? Probably not. But is she doing it in the heat of battle and adrenaline and a whole bucket ton of emotions, including what she sees as the White Wolf blatantly disrespecting her country and her as a person and even friend and she just says fuck it, I’m done? You hurt us and me, and I’m going to hurt you back? Oh yeah. And Bucky looks shocked, not because he’s a poor fragile baby and “oh no, my arm, how could you?? my TrAumA”, but in the dual realization of “oh shit, how’d you do that?!” and “oh shit, I think I crossed a line here.” And also, I don’t think a single person in that room would be able to recreate the disabling sequence other than Ayo — it’s way too targeted and specific for someone like Walker to pick it up in the whole three seconds it took.

People need to stop reducing characters to these black and white extremes of soft and hard, of good and bad. Doing so completely devalues and ignores the REALITY of the complexity of being human, and Bucky and Ayo are both great examples of that played by stellar actors who portray that range and depth extremely well. End of the day, my thought is that the failsafe in the arm was justified and people need to stop coming for Ayo based on this ridiculous narrative that Bucky is too traumatized and sensitive and too much of a fave to ever be challenged or he’ll explode into dust. Boy deserves a life of freedom and healing and mental health support, but he’s also still a formidable opponent with the capacity for violence and skillset to kill. People are more than one thing.

Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk!!

#Bucky barnes #winter soldier #falcon and winter soldier #falcon and the winter solider spoilers #faws spoilers #faws #james bucky barnes #marvel #dora milaje #wakanda #Ayo #Steve Rogers #falcon and winter soldier spoilers #marvel fandom #I really went off on this one huh #fatws #fatws bucky #fatws ep 4 #fatws spoilers

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tommyspeakycap · 3 years

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again, your new john stones fic blew me away!!! Amazing. Please feel free to write about him all day every day!! <3

thank you again!! here’s another sweet one inspired by my own 1am experience tonight :) i wish I had a john stones

My hero

Your heart is quite literally thundering in your chest. There’s no feeling like it, this kind of fear that sticks you to the ground beneath your feet. You honestly feel like you can’t catch your breath, tears streaking down over your flushed cheeks as you hold your phone in your right hand with trembling fingers, one thumb finally letting go of the little microphone shaped drawing in your iMessages app. Even the whooshing sound of the message you knew was about to send to your best friend catches you off guard, making your shoulders clench and raise in fright.

“Are you seriously alright??”

She texts back, her confusion and teasing is something you know is laced into those letters across the screen creating a glow in the dim room. You roll your eyes at her, trying to keep your vision up while sending another voice note back; “No, seriously. Why does this only ever happen when I’m alone??”

“Probably because you live alone?” She replies back, and you curse yourself for a choice of friends who clearly have no empathy for what you consider to be a very serious situation. You know you won’t hear the end of this teasing once it’s all over. But the fear to you is all too real.

“(Y/n) I got your text! Came right here, are you alright?”

The sudden voice makes you literally clench your entire body, nearly shooting off the floor in fright and making one of those internalised fear noises that sounds like you just been attacked with a taser. You hear keys dropping down by the door and then a pause of his footsteps as you try to catch your breath. Your heart swells a little at the thought of him being here.

“John!” You yelp, your voice coming out something more like a strangled cry. The tall defender hears that sound and finds himself in panic, those long legs carrying him quickly and easily up the stairs of your small home until he spots you standing now in the doorway of your bedroom. He rushes towards you, seemingly checking you over for potential injuries the best he can in the darkness only broken by the lowest setting of flashlight on your phone. The first thing he notices when checking over your face with his hands is the wetness still making its way over your cheeks.

“Are you alright? what happened? Is there someone in there? Are you okay? Did someone hurt-“

You cut off his rambling with a finger over his lips, creating even more confusion for the fluffy haired brunette who had very clearly rolled himself out of bed to hurry over here. He was wearing shoes without socks, dirty shorts from training that he’d thrown off before going to bed only to pull back in to come to your, and an old sweater that usually sat somewhere downstairs in the closet closest to the door. It was obvious he had come in a wild rush the second he got your erratic message.

“It’s a wasp, John!” You whisper, as if the little creature that sitting on your lightbulb unwilling to move from the place you couldn’t reach and wouldn’t dare to even if you could, was able to hear you.

“A wasp?” John repeats incredulously. “Seriously?”

You nod vigorously, and and as much as the exhausted footballer wants to complain or even sigh at you, he doesn’t. Maybe he can’t. Because he’s got his arms around you and he definitely can feel you quivering against him. He had expected something more along the lines of a one night stand gone wrong or even someone breaking it, but as his consciousness began to catch back up with his previously very sleepy self, it made a lot more sense. In the event of a break in, you would probably have been bloody calmer than you are now to be honest. John had seen you after a pretty dangerous car crash completely still and relatively calm as you gave statements to police officers with blood still trickling down your face. But put an insect in your path and you scaled the closest thing to you for protection.

It just so happened that closest thing was often John Stones, and he was happy to be that person really.

It has become a norm between the two of you in the years you had been friends. Winter was the worst for spiders, but he generally didn’t mind the mildly irritating insects. He just got rid of them one way or another while you hid as far as you could get and then he’d come get you when the coast was clean. But you hated summer for this particular reason.

Wasps.

They fly in, fly into things and somehow never make it back on the window on their own despite it being the most easy thing one could ever imagine. Then, they try and sting you as if they aren’t in your house. They just creep you out, even the sight of them with their nasty little bodies. Bees aren’t a problem, they’re fuzzy looking and don’t intrude in your home nearly half as much. Also, they don’t try to sting you all the damn time.

“Where abouts?” He asks, his voice showing no hint of any destain or irritation he may harbour. “On the light,” you tell him shakily, following close to him back as you both enter the room. “Right up there- careful!”

John sniggers a little to himself, much to your dismay. He kicks off his shoes by your bedside table and climbs up onto the bed with ease on those ridiculously long legs. By luck, chance or both, he has some toilet paper in his hoodie pocket that he’d probably used to wipe his nose or something like that earlier, he can’t remember. He holds it out at arms length, only inches away form the unsuspecting black and yellow insect. “Where?” He asks again, “I can’t see anything.”

“There!” You insist, pointing up with a shaking finger. “I don’t see anything (y/n).” He repeats, making you whimper slightly, more tears suddenly appearing as you try to come to terms with the fact it might’ve moved while you were outside the room. The thought of having to sleep in your house while not knowing where it was would send you absolutely mental. “It was there I swear, look-“

“Ahhh, I got it. Stand back.”

He leans forward with relative ease, careful with the force he used so close to a live electric source and grips the buzzing creature in his tissue. “There we go,” he hums, stepping down from the bed. “All go-“

As if on cue, it flies out of the paper and you let loose a literal shriek as you dive backwards, crashing into the wall and then jumping forward in fright at that. “Woah!” John calls, “it’s alright, it’s right there. Calm, calm. Take a deep breath. Look,” he tries to calm you. That deep accent with his fatigue coating each word seeps into you, carefully calming your firing heart as he grabs it tighter from the floor, making sure he squashed it this time and immediately takes it to flush it down the toilet. John doesn’t know if you’re supposed to kill them or not, but at this moment in time he genuinely does not care. Was he fuck going to chase a wasp out of a window at half past one in the morning. Not a chance.

When he returns from the bathroom now empty handed, you still seem upset.

“That was scary.” You announce.

John smiles, pearly whites all on display. “I noticed.” He teases, making you scowl tiredly at him.

That scowl falters when his smile breaks into a light, soft laugh and he moves to stand in front of you. You absolutely don’t mind the fact that he’s babying you a little, using the sleeves of his sweater to wipe your cheeks before pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead and taking you into his strong arms. In fact, it’s very much welcomed. His arms are the safest place in the world to you and even the residual discomforted shivers from the concept of a wasp in your bedroom couldn’t get through that defender. He looks after a lot more than just the Manchester City goal line. No, he’s the sole defender of something much more precious that he doesn’t even realise.

Your heart.

“You okay now?” He asks softly, his tired voice rumbling through you. You nod against him, “Feeling a bit better. Thank you Stonesy.” You mumble, words muffled by the muscled chest that your face his resting against. “Anything for you, lovely.” He responds easily, pulling back from you in a way that aches his heart. The sudden lack of your warmth and presence against him is utterly brutal. He loves holding you, but hates it in the same breath. He would love to hold you if it was something he got to do freely instead of fleetingly.

His eyes are stuck watching you sit down on the edge of your bed to grab your phone and check the time with an element of shock rolling through your eyes when you realise it’s nearly two.

“You got training tomorrow?” You ask sweetly, a yawn following the tail end of your words adorable in a way that makes John’s heart flutter like a teenage boy. He nods, “Not till after dinner though, around 5.”

It’s your turn to nod, seeming to be chewing over something in thought as you lie down in the middle of your bed.

“Wanna stay then?”

John has to pretend to think about it at least a little bit so he doesn’t look like he’s jumping right up at the opportunity, which is exactly what he wants to do. “Why not,” he shrugs, chucking off his hoodie to the foot of your bed, “Scoot over.”

He clambers in, long limbs moving nowhere near as coordinated as they are on the pitch as he lays down by your right. It’s like a familiar dance, one you both know so well as you shuffle around so you can lay against his chest, one leg hooked over him as his arm wraps around you to pull you even closer. A silence falls between you as he feels your eyelashes fluttering shut, tickling his chest. He can’t find that same relaxation, can’t seem to shut his eyes for the thoughts flying through his mind all at once.

“I should teach you how to catch them.” John states, rumbling voice interrupting the peaceful quiet in which you had nearly found sleep. “You know, for the future.” He adds almost flippantly. Almost.

“Why?” You hum groggily, sleep croaking your voice ever so slightly. “I got you.”

John has to pretend your half asleep admission doesn’t send his heart flying into his throat. You do always have him, right there in the palm of your hand. Always.

“I don’t think other guys would appreciate me barging into their house in the middle of the night.” He suggests, making you quirk an eyebrow in question, but you still don’t look up at him and he isn’t even sure if you’ve got your eyes fully open. “No other guys here,” you state, “Single, living all alone.” You add lazily. The words almost make John wonder if he has fallen asleep, each one spoke playing straight into the dream he’s had for years for you to be his.

“Yeah, I know but…but there will be, at some point.” He suggests. You give no response for a moment and he briefly thinks you’ve fallen asleep at some point in this conversation.

“Bet those other guys wouldn’t come get rid of wasps for me in the middle of the night like you do.”

“Maybe,” John shrugs, “but I think there’s plenty of guys like that, especially for you.”

He feels you shake your head against him, your words decisive as you speak;

“There are no guys like you, John Stones.”

His words and his breath are caught on his throat, his heart erupting in his chest as he replays those words in his mind, trying to figure out if he had actually just heard them or if his tired mind was playing tricks on him because it was so late and he hadn’t had enough sleep.

But then you look up at him with tired eyes and a sweet smile. You know what you’ve just done, know the bomb you’ve just dropped and you’re hoping with everything crossed that he feels the same way.

“You’re my hero, Stonesy.” You say softly, your voice now a little sheepish and he can barely just make out the flush of your cheeks in the dim room lighting. “And I love you with everything I have.”

He doesn’t know what to say, his eyes wide as his heart beats as erratically as he had felt yours beating when he first arrived with fear coursing through his veins thinking you were in some kind of mortal peril.

“John?” You ask timidly, voice sheepish as you sit up in fear.

“Sorry,” he rumbles, pushing himself to a seated position, allowing him to lean forward and slide his hand around the back of your head to pull you into him, your lips crashing down onto his.

It’s just about everything he’s ever wanted.

“God I love you.” He says against your lips, a groan leaving his throat from pure satisfaction, pure relief of finally getting those words off of his chest. You giggle, resting back against his chest. “Can we sleep now, please?”

He nods, both of you shuffling so you can resume the position you had been in before a life changing confession that had spun you and the Barnsley brunette into the kiss that had been years in waiting. This was the happiest either of you had probably ever been.

“Guess we have the wasps to thank for this eh?” John lulls just as sleep is about to encompass you. He feels you shiver against him, the hairs on your arms immediately raising to attention at the mention of that which you hate so much.

“Don’t say that! That’s basically an invitation for them to invade my house!” You hiss, giving his chest a gentle swat as he pulls you closer to his side.

“Let them come,” he says almost triumphantly, “You got me now, always.”

You cosy yourself against him, a soft sigh of complete content and comfort tickling his chest as it dances across him. He feels that gentle smile that settles onto your gestures as your heavy eyes allow sleep to truly begin to take you.

“Always,” you mumble, words diluted by sleep “My hero.”

#john stones #john stones imagines #john stones imagine #john stones x reader #england national team imagine #england national team #john stones blurb #john stones prompt #footie fics #footballer fics #football fics

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stxleslyds · 3 years

Note

What do you think about the theories that Jason was sexually abused as a child? Or even possibly while he was comatose after his resurrection?

Implications of this theory include his conversation with Mia (Speedy) and Bruce's message (Battle for the Cowl). In addition, when he was Robin he expressed what was then considered uncharacteristic rage towards the perpetrators of sex crimes.

Garzonas - unrepentant rapist who got no consequences

When a woman killed her sister's rapist and murderer (because Batman's evidence was not admissible in court), Batman said that she went too far with murder. Jason's disagreed with "Good riddance". Good for you, Jason.

His recklessness when dealing with a child sex trafficking ring.

I highly doubt that DC would ever confirm this theory. I would rather they leave it ambiguous because I don't trust them to not botch Jason... much less respectfully address the subject matter.

I have read so many thoughts on Jason that they're starting to blend together. So I apologize if you've already answered this before.

Hello friend! Aside from the fact that I took way too much time to answer your ask, this was also a hard question to come up with an answer to, I wanted to remain respectful of the subjects at hand even though I don’t second this headcanon. But before we keep going, let me put some trigger warnings in this post.

trigger warning: mentions of sexual abuse, child abuse, rape.

First, I would like to bring up these two concepts because I oftentimes mix them up when talking about these “ideas”.

Theory: a supposition or a system of ideas intended to explain something; an idea used to account for a situation or justify a course of action.

Headcanon: Headcanon generally refers to ideas held by fans of series that are not explicitly supported by sanctioned text or other media. Fans maintain the ideas in their heads, outside of the accepted canon.

I think the idea of Jason having been sexually abused at any point in his lifetime is a mix between a theory and a headcanon. Why I am saying this? Because as you have put in the ask, there has been instances where fandom has found pieces of information that they have considered the base of this idea.

So, if we say that there is a piece of text that might support that idea and they build from that to justify a course of action we would be looking at a theory. In this case Jason having been abused would the reason as to why he acts in that strong and violent way towards cases of sexual abuse/harassment.

In the other hand those pieces of text might not support that idea so fandom headcanons that idea in order to build another layer to a character, in this case Jason having been abused would also justify his actions towards certain criminals.

The “text” (panels, issues, mentions) are most of the time ambiguous, which makes readers have different perspectives in what is being written and what then is made into a theory or headcanon.

Personally, I don’t like this theory or headcanon for various reasons (which I will explain later in the post), and I have read and understood those moments mentioned as Jason just having survived Crime Alley as something general, I don’t think he suffered that kind of abuse but I think he was made aware of that type of behaviour every day that he spent alone in the streets and that why we saw Jason in Batman #408 saying that he had “graduated a long time ago from the streets of crime alley”.

Having said that, I do understand that some of the moments mentioned can be seen as ambiguous and that’s what leads people to theorize/headcanon that idea, because of that I would like to show the panels mentioned in your ask so everyone can read them and make up their own conclusions and then I will talk about the reasons why I don’t like this particular theory/headcanon.

As Robin:

Batman (1940) #422

In these panels we can see Jason as Robin jumping in to defend a woman that was being attacked by a man. There I only see Jason acting like a vigilante would, maybe he was hitting too hard or whatever but Batman has hit people as much as Jason was doing it this time around, plus I, personally, don’t see any kind of problem with Jason beating a man that was harassing and threatening a woman with death.

Right beside we have Jason being on the side of the woman that killed her sister’s attacker. He didn’t see any problem with that woman seeking justice for her sister on her own when the police, Batman and himself couldn’t get the job done.

Here I see Jason having a big problem with authorities and justice system, which is not something new, in Batman #408, Jason says very clearly that he doesn’t trust the system in Gotham (the police, social workers and such), and he was also shown in that comic talking very fondly about his mother and about how much he cared for her when she was at her worst. Let’s remember that Jason loved his mother, he took care of her and resented his father for being abusive towards her and even introducing her to drugs.

Instead understanding these panels as Jason having been abused himself, I see it more as Jason having a humongous understanding of how much women and others suffer in Gotham due to the justice system’s lack of action. I also see Jason as the kind of boy that respected all women and could not sit and do nothing when people were hitting and abusing women just like his father did to his mother.

Batman (1940) #424

This issue starts by saying that Jason jumps into action as soon as he hears someone scream but that he wasn’t going to be prepared to see what was happening. This is the issue where all of us meet Felipe Garzonas, the abuser and rapist of many women. At first Jason doesn’t know what Felipe was doing but after he and Batman “defeat” Felipe, he goes to the room where he finds Gloria in a bed badly hurt and scared. Jason is shocked when he first finds her and after hearing her story in the police station, he becomes more and more happy about the fact that by having caught Felipe, he and Batman would be able to offer some peace and justice to Gloria after he goes to jail, but that doesn’t happen.

They had all the evidence to put Felipe in jail and the police could easily see that Gloria was the victim but because Felipe had someone to back his made-up story up, he was able to not be arrested and jailed.

Jason once again is baffled at the lack of action by the police or simply justice not being able to be made in favour of the true victim. Batman even says that he has noticed that Jason “had become to emotionally invested with the case” which could favour either idea (Jason having suffered sexual abuse or not), in my case I see this once again as Jason not being able to remain calm after doing everything to keep that woman safe and the justice system not being able to do it themselves in a more permanent way (jail time, or whatever).

But that’s not all because Jason being too emotional with that case was brought up as a way to show that Jason couldn’t see that Felipe had been under the influence of drugs, which is something that Jason can see in people very well (do to experience with his mother and his training with Batman). So, Felipe is now a rapist, an abuser, he does drugs and he also has a market for it.

Because Felipe was allowed to go back to his “normal” life he had Gloria be killed, and he kept abusing drugs and women, when Jason finds Gloria’s dead body and that Batman still seems to abide the justice system he snaps. He goes alone to see Felipe and that’s were this iconic panel comes from. The moments before Jason made his first kill and felt no remorse about it. I know this is kinda soft topic because Jason was a teenager, but good for him, kill that bitch. Gotham doesn’t need more people like him.

Batman (1940) #226

This is the issue where Jason attacks the men that were involved with some very nasty stuff involving children. Batman narrates and says that him and Jason had been working on this case for three weeks. Jason jumps into action suddenly and “recklessly” even though Batman considered their investigation wasn’t over, he also says that he thinks that Jason had been “acting oddly” and that he was very “moody, resentful and reckless” and that that attitude could “get him killed”.

This could be used as to add more proof of the abuse idea but I actually see it as build up to Jason’s death, that happened two issues later. Let’s remember that Jason found out of his birth mother and was desperate to find and save her from Joker, because he was a good son but also because he didn’t feel like Bruce loved, cared or appreciated him anymore. Ever since Jason made it clear that he didn’t see the world and justice in the same way that Batman did back in issue #422, Jason and Bruce’s relationship suffered, they just couldn’t see eye to eye on some subjects and Bruce’s neglect or lack of care for what Jason believed in drove Jason to act the way he did in the case involving his mother and the Joker.

Jason obviously has major issues with kids being abused and put in dangerous situations, he as the Red Hood (Winick’s Red Hood) is the same, he really wants kids to be taken far away from drugs so they cannot be manipulated, used and abused by Gotham’s Drug Lords. Here I can see some of the same thing, Jason being protective of those kids and getting fed up with how much time he and Batman had to wait to do anything about the subject, along side it I bet Jason wasn’t seeing the police or the justice system doing anything about the whole thing so that could have probably fuelled his desperate attack of those horrible people.

As Batman/Red Hood:

Batman: Battle for the Cowl #3

Battle for the Cowl… yeah I am going to be brutally honest about this, if anyone thinks that this is someway or somehow proof that Jason had been abused in the past then I think we have very different ways of thinking how survivors must be treated or written in comics and other media.

This to me is pure bad writing, this is some of the worst things I have seen being written in comics. Whether or not this implies Jason being abused or not, Bruce’s message is absolutely disgusting and not at all helpful, it is even worse when you realise that Dick, a canon sexual assault survivor, is the one playing the message to Jason even though Jason explicitly said that he didn’t want to hear it again. That Book, issue, page and panel are extremely badly written and is one of the most terrible Jason and Dick characterizations ever.

So, I don’t really care if this panel is supposed to offer support to that theory or headcanon, I really dislike that speech and if it is actually referencing Jason as being a survivor of child abuse, then Tony S. Daniel needs to make an apology from today to the day he dies.

��Of all my failures, you have been my biggest” “You were broken and I thought I could put the pieces back together. I thought I could do for you what could never be done for me. Make you whole” “What happened to you as a child… the terror, the pain, the horrors” “You needed repair and instead I gave you an outlet to act out on”

Absolute garbage writing. Me, as Bruce is number one hater, know that that speech is even out of character for Bruce. Listen, if Jason had been a victim of sexual assault or just being a kid living alone in Crime Alley, no one should leave a message like that, telling a victim that they were broken and needed fixing, what the hell? No, thank you, this issue proves nothing except that Battle for the Cowl was a mistake as a whole.

Green Arrow (2001) #72

Judd Winick is clever I will always say that, and while I do see why people think that Jason is making the “child abuse idea” canon I still think that the way that he talks is still fairly ambiguous if not just him playing mind games with Mia.

I know it sounds wrong, but hear me out, Winick, in this arc makes Batman say that Jason distracted him and Oliver just to take Mia as a “hostage” because that was Jason’s way to mess with him. This arc happens right after UtRH and Jason is a bit more unhinged than ever. But he doesn’t harm Mia, he just talks to her, he tries to make her see why he acts the way he does and to do that he talks about how much he sees of himself in her. Do I believe that Jason suffered the same things Mia did? No. Do I think that their past is similar? Yes.

But Jason doesn’t only use the fact that they have similar pasts to make Mia rebel against her “no killing ways” and Oliver like he did with Bruce, but he also brings up the fact that their past is incredibly different to the lives of Bruce and Oliver, and that those differences are of importance.

Maybe it’s just me, but I didn’t see Jason bringing Mia’s past for anything other than manipulating her and kinda make her see Oliver in a negative light the way that he does Batman and Bruce. Jason was at a point in his life where all he wanted to do was deliver the same pain that he had gone through but he didn’t do it by physically harming anyone (Mia was left unscratched), he was just out there trying to play mind games so he could break more havoc in Batman’s name.

Mia’s past is just way too different to whatever we have seen in canon from Jason’s past. Maybe I am wrong, after all, I only read about Mia in that arc.

With all that having been said I think it’s pretty obvious that I just don’t think that Jason’ having been sexually abused as a child actually happened, and I also don’t like to think about his past in that way. His canon suffering could have made him act that violently against criminals involved with sexual attacks and drug-related crimes, but I also think that’s just how Jason was, he really disliked the justice system in Gotham and saw how much it failed to protect victims, so now that he had the training to help those who couldn’t do it for themselves, he tried his best to bring criminals to justice.

And when that didn’t work, he grew more and more frustrated with Batman’s methods which led him to be more unforgiving and violent.

I also don’t like the theory/headcanon as a whole because I think its one of those things that Fandom comes up with just for that extra angst factor in their favourite character’s story so they can make him suffer more and because of that no other Robin or character as a whole can ever understand his pain or whatever. In this fandom there is a lot of “competitive trauma” going on and I honestly dislike it a lot.

About Jason having been assaulted while he was in a coma, I don't really know, he was at a hospital for what I believe were six moths, maybe that idea comes from real life happenings but I have never thought of that happening in Jason's life and I would rather not give it much more thought.

Also, I believe that DC just like fandom would have never been able to handle the subject of Jason having been a sexual assault survivor with the respect and care that it actually needs. We have seen DC treat sexual harassment and abuse as nothing but a side plot or bringing it up in an extremely disturbing way. In Fandom some (very few) people end up glamorising or romanticising these subjects so, I don’t believe the comic world was or is ready to treat a backstory like this with the respect it needs.

Maybe I haven’t even treated the subject with the respect and care that it needs and if that’s the case then I am truly sorry.

I had never answered a question regarding this subject before and I really appreciate all the questions you send my way; they do make my brain happy. I am really sorry it took me this long to write an answer to you but I hope the post is good enough for all the time I made you wait!

I hope you have an amazing week!

#jason todd #red hood #robin jason todd #batman #tati writes and is nervous about it #theories and headcanons #dc comics

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massivedrickhead · 3 years

Text

Bechloe Week 2021 - Day 5

July 30th: “You don’t know who I am, do you?”

Read on AO3

This is heavy heavy angst. It’s pretty sad (imo) and also kinda long. So, you know, read at your own risk.

With a throbbing in her hip, and a tight pain across her chest, Beca eased herself out of the cab she’d taken, and looked up at the entrance to Barden Nursing Home.

Although she visited several times a week, it seemed like they added more stairs each time she came.

“Can I give you a hand ma’am?”

“Well that depends, Raheem,” Beca said. Her voice wasn’t as strong as it had once been, but anyone who knew her could still detect the bite of sarcasm that filled almost every sentence. “Are you going to call me ma’am again, or are you going to call me Beca?”

Raheem smiled at her from his driver side window.

“Come on Mrs Mitchell, I can’t call you that. What would my grandmother say if she knew I was disrespecting my elders?”

Beca laughed and shook her head. “If you insist.” She held out an arm for him to take, and he left his cab immediately.

Truthfully, she didn’t think she’d make it up on her own anymore.

The doctor had given her a year, give or take, but she knew her own body.

This would be her last visit to Barden Nursing Home.

“Do you want me to wait with the cab?” Raheem asked when they reached the entryway.

“No, no,” Beca said. “The girls are meeting me here, they can drive me home.”

“I’ll see you next week then?”

Probably not. “I’ll give you a call.”

Raheem was Beca’s favourite driver and he happened to be the owner of the cab company, so he always made sure he was the one to drive Beca to her destination.

His mother had been a fan of hers, he’d told her during one of their first journeys, which made her feel older than she was. Or older than she thought she was. It still surprised her when she looked in the mirror and saw an old lady looking back at her.

She didn’t really recognise herself anymore.

Now that her hair was grey, her back slightly hunched, her joints sore and swollen.

They had taken her drivers licence a few years back due to her deteriorating eyesight, and her hearing wasn’t what it was.

And now her lungs were shot. Her liver. Her heart.

Her body was failing her, worsening by the day.

She was in almost constant pain, but she still had her mind. Her mind remained as sharp as it ever was.

For that, she was grateful.

Most of the time, anyway.

Leaning on a cane, with a bunch of flowers in her other hand, she made her way through the reception area.

“Morning Beca,” one of the nurses greeted her warmly. “She’s in her room today, didn’t feel like being social.”

“Thanks hun,” Beca replied. “How is she?”

“One of her better days.”

Good, Beca thought. That’s good.

If today was going to be her last visit, she wanted it to be a good one.

She knocked on door 216, and waited for a response.

“Come in,” came a voice that was both achingly familiar yet totally alien.

“Hi,” Beca said, smiling warmly as she entered the room.

Chloe was sitting in a chair by the window, a blanket over her knees.

Her once red hair was now silver, tied in a neat ponytail. She was still looking outside, but Beca knew her bright blue eyes were now milky and flat. Clouded.

Chloe turned to face her visitor.

“Can I help you?”

Beca felt something hard lodge itself in her chest.

She would never get used to this feeling. She never wanted to get used to this feeling.

She waited for a sign of recognition. A smile or a twinkle, but there was nothing.

Chloe simply looked at her with a patient curiosity.

Well, Beca thought. That’s that, then.

“I was just wondering if you would like some company? I’m new here and I don’t really know anyone.” She placed the flowers in an empty vase of water that she knew the nurses had left there for her, like they did every time she visited.

“Yes, okay. That would be fine,” Chloe said. “I’m Chloe Beale.” She held out her hand for Beca to shake.

Beca shook it, trying not to let the stab of pain show on her face at the sound of Chloe using her maiden name.

“Beca Mitchell,” Beca said, fighting the urge to cover Chloe’s hands with both of her own.

Even after all these years, Beca still wanted nothing more than to pull Chloe into her arms and kiss her.

She couldn’t remember the last time they’d really kissed. The last time they’d lain in bed together while Chloe ran her fingers through Beca’s hair. The last time Chloe had been Chloe.

Chloe’s diagnosis and the progression of her illness had been sudden and devastating and brutally quick.

It was so cruel, Beca thought almost every minute of every day, that she still had Chloe so close yet she couldn’t have been further from her.

“I’m afraid you can’t stay too long,” Chloe said. “My daughters are coming to visit later.”

She remembers the girls, Beca thought. That’s good.

Some days Chloe had no recollection of their daughters. Some days, Chloe had no recollection of any of them.

But once in a while, God, it was so rare now, Chloe would remember Beca and who they’d been together.

“Is that so?” Beca asked. “How old are your daughters?”

“Oh, I don’t know, middle-aged-ish. One’s older than the other,” Chloe said, waving a dismissive hand. “Of an age where they think they’re old but they don’t know they’re actually still very young.”

“Hmm, they must be the same age as my kids. What are their names?”

“Well there’s Blake and, um… shoot. I had it. Begins with a B…”

No it doesn’t.

“No it doesn’t,” Chloe said, shaking her head. “Hayley.”

Riley.

“Riley!”

Beca smiled. If only I could get you to remember me so easily.

“Do you have grandkids?” Beca asked.

“No,” Chloe said with a sigh.

Yes you do. You have four, and they’re beautiful.

“Do you?”

“Yes,” Beca said. “A little too much energy for me to handle these days.”

Chloe seemed to study Beca for a fraction longer.

“You know, you look a lot like my wife. Older, of course, but there’s something about the nose and the smile…”

Beca laughed because if she didn’t she would cry. “Is that right? Well to be honest I wasn’t going to say anything, but you look a lot like my wife.”

“How weird,” Chloe said.

“She was beautiful, just like you,” Beca said, fiddling with the wedding band she still wore.

“Is she still with us?”

Beca looked into Chloe’s eyes, searching for some semblance of the Chloe Beale she had fallen in love with. Searching for a glimmer of recognition. A spark. Anything.

“No,” Beca said. “We lost her a few years ago.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Chloe said, placing her hand on Beca’s as if that’s where it was meant to be. “How awful for you. You must miss her terribly.”

Beca let out a small laugh and tears filled her eyes.

It was unbearable to mourn someone who was sitting two feet in front of you.

“More than anything. We had,” Beca swallowed hard but her voice still broke when she spoke again, “the best life together. She was my best friend… my everything.”

Chloe squeezed her hand. “How lucky you are to have felt love like that. To have loved so strongly that even after all these years you’re still…” Chloe trailed off and looked out of the window again.

“Did… is your wife still with us?” Beca asked, wiping her eyes on her sleeve.

“My… sorry, what did you say?”

“Is your wife still alive?”

“Oh, I don’t have a wife dear,” Chloe said, smiling. “This ginger is single and ready to mingle as my grandkids would say.”

Again, that knife in her heart.

Her grandkids were back, replacing her wife, and with them a spark of the old Chloe.

“Maybe you’ll meet someone here,” Beca said, the sadness taking hold of her now. Settling into her bones in the same way that the damp made her hip throb. “It’s never too late.”

“God, you’re crying, are you okay?”

“Perfectly fine,” Beca said, smiling. “Just thinking about my Chloe has made me go all… well… foolish is probably the best word.”

“Your… Chloe?”

“My wife,” Beca said. “Her name was Chloe.” She swallowed as she looked at the uncomprehending face before her. “She was beautiful. So beautiful. Red hair and bright blue eyes and she was kind, and good, and safe. She was my best my soulmate. And she had a voice like an angel. I’d give…” Beca swallowed again, “I’d give anything to hear her sing again. To hear my Chloe sing again.”

“Beca…”

“Do you know what she said to me the first time we kissed? She promised I would never lose her. We were in a tiny apartment in Brooklyn and she promised I wouldn’t lose her. But that’s the kind of promise only a kid could make. They have no idea, how could they?”

“Beca.”

Chloe’s hand gripped Beca’s and squeezed it. Tight.

“My… Beca?”

And there she was. Back like she’d never gone away.

“Chloe? You… you remember me?”

“Of course I remember you,” Chloe said. Then her eyebrows furrowed, and she looked around her room. “This isn’t our house.”

“No.”

Chloe swallowed and nodded. “I’m… I’m not well, am I?”

Beca sniffed and shook her head.

“Alzheimer’s?”

“Ah ha,” Beca said, fighting to keep her voice steady.

“Like my mom… How long?”

“T-two years,” Beca said. “I tried to take care of you but then I fell and broke my hip and I just… I couldn’t manage on my own anymore. The girls insisted. You’ve been here for about a year. You… you seem happy.”

Beca knew this lucidity wouldn’t last.

Chloe would be gone again, and probably soon.

This was her last chance.

“I love you, Chloe Mitchell, do you hear me? My heart belongs completely to you. And one day… one day soon, I’m not gonna be able to come and visit you anymore. And there may be days where you remember me, but you won’t remember I’m gone, and you’re gonna feel hurt and betrayed. You’re going to think I abandoned you,” Beca squeezed Chloe’s hand again, “but I promise you, if it was up to me, I would never leave your side.”

“So stay,” Chloe said, her voice breaking. “Stay with me.”

Beca gave her a sad smile. “In a few hours, you won’t remember me, baby.”

“How could I ever forget you?”

“Mom?” A voice spoke up from the doorway, and Beca turned to see Blake and Riley standing there. “Is everything-”

“Girls!” Chloe said, brightly. “Come in and meet my new friend Beca.”

No.

Not yet.

Please, not yet.

“Your new friend Beca?”

Beca forced the smile back onto her face, and she stood up.

“Nice to meet you,” Beca said, looking into the faces of her daughters. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

She turned to face Chloe.

“You’re leaving?”

“I should let you have some time with your girls,” Beca said. She took Chloe’s hand in hers, and looked at her wife for what would be the last time. “It was truly a pleasure meeting you, Chloe.”

“I’ll see you again I hope?”

Beca smiled. “Of course. You’ll remember what I said?”

Chloe tilted her head, her eyebrows pulled together in confusion.

“It’s okay,” Beca said. “I know you heard it. It’ll come back to you when you need it.”

“Okay,” Chloe said, still confused. “Do you think… would it be okay if we hugged? You can ask the girls, I’m a hugger.”

She heard a small sniff and she saw Riley quickly leave the room.

“Allergies,” Blake said, quickly.

“Of course we can hug,” Beca said. “I’ve had a wonderful afternoon with you Chloe.”

Chloe stood, her blanket slipping off her lap, and she wrapped her arms around Beca, and Beca hugged back as tight as she dared.

She buried her face in Chloe’s neck and breathed in.

She still smelled like Chloe.

“You know Beca, I think we’re gonna be really fast friends.”

And everything inside of Beca broke.

“Hey, what is it?” Chloe said, softly as Beca clung to her and cried.

“Mom, it’s okay,” Blake said. She stuck her head out of the door and called to her younger sister.

Chloe shot Blake a look of confusion as this apparent stranger sobbed into her shoulder.

“You’re okay,” Chloe said, softly. “Come on, now, you’re okay. I’ve got you.”

“I love you,” Beca whispered into her ear, choking it out between sobs. “Don’t forget that, okay? I love you.”

“Okay, that’s, um, very nice,” Chloe said.

Beca’s chest started feeling tight as she struggled to get air into her lungs.

“Why don’t you sit down? We can call a nurse and-”

“No,” Beca said, quickly, struggling to suck air into her useless lungs. “I just need… in my bag.”

“Here,” Blake said, handing her her inhaler.

“Thank you,” Beca said, taking several deep puffs from it. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… I’m sorry, Chloe.”

She looked at Chloe again, and knew with certainty it was for the last time.

She had gotten a couple of minutes with Chloe - the real Chloe - this afternoon and that was more than she could have hoped for.

“It really was lovely to meet you Chloe,” she said.

“Yes, you too,” Chloe replied, although she sounded less than convincing. “See you another time?”

“I look forward to it,” Beca said.

“Riley, why don’t you make sure… Beca, here, gets to where she needs to be,” Blake said, looking between her parents with pain in her eyes.

“Sure,” Riley said.

When they were away from the room, Riley pulled her Mom into a hug.

“That was a rough one, huh?” Riley asked.

“Unbearable,” Beca said. “She was… she was back. I had her back for like, five minutes. And then…”

Riley kissed her on the head. “Come on, I’ll get one of the nurses to get you some tea and when we’re done we can drive you home.”

Beca frowned. “It’s Thursday. Is Blake not doing dinner?”

“No, she is, but you don’t usually feel like company after a bad visit,” Riley said.

Beca waved a hand of dismissal. “I wanna spend some time getting climbed on by my grandkids. Will your new lady be joining us?”

Riley blushed like a teenager, despite being in her forties. “Not tonight, Mom. It’s a bit soon for a family dinner.”

“Oh come on, you’ve been dating for months! I want to meet her, I have so many embarrassing stories to tell!”

“I know you do,” Riley said. “Which is why we’re gonna wait a few more weeks before we scare her off. Don’t worry, there are endless amounts of family dinners ahead of us for you to embarrass me at.”

Beca smiled. “Okay,” she said.

She hadn’t told the girls she was sick. They had enough in their plates with Chloe, and she didn’t want to add to it.

When the time came, yes, she knew they’d be hurt. She knew that hurt didn’t even come close to covering it. They had all but said their goodbyes to Chloe, but they had no idea that Beca would be beating her to the afterlife.

She knew if she asked them, they’d rather she told them.

It was cruel to blindside them, but in a way wasn’t it crueler to have them watch her slowly waste away in a hospital? To leave them saddled with medical bills that their inheritance would only just cover?

Because she knew her girls, they wouldn’t just let her slip away. They’d want her to fight, and Beca was too tired for fighting.

No. She wouldn’t do that to them. She had already written letters for all of them - including Chloe - and she had left instructions with her solicitors that they would get handed out after her death.

In her will, she’d left most of her money to her daughters and Blake’s four kids, along with a lump-sum donation to Barden Nursing Home.

Her affairs were in order.

The girls didn’t need to know.

“Mom? Are you ready?”

Beca smiled as her daughters approached, and she gratefully took Riley’s hand when she offered it.

She was quiet on the drive back to Blake’s house.

“Sure you’re up for dinner, Mom?” Blake asked, glancing at her in the rear view mirror.

Beca smiled and nodded.

That night she basked in the attention of her grandkids.

The two twin boys - Jackson and Christopher, aged seven - kept trying to explain their favourite show to their grandmother.

They kept acting out scenes, speaking in odd voices, shooting each other with fake guns.

Beca tried to follow along but really she just wanted to watch them play.

The youngest - Davey, four - sat comfortably on her lap.

“Gram read it?” He said, holding up a book.

“Again?” Beca asked.

“Please?”

“Okay,” she said.

“Grandma!” Christopher said, pulling her attention back to him. “Grandma! Look! Then the bad guys do this!” He aimed a finger gun at his brother and deepened his voice. “Prepare to die!”

“Ah ha,” Beca said.

“Gram,” Davey tugged at her sleeve and then placed a hand on his book.

“Sorry,” Beca said, picking up where she left off from.

The noise and distraction was welcome.

It kept Beca’s mind from wandering. She needed a few hours where she wasn’t mourning Chloe.

It was working until ten year old Anne walked into the room, looking far too somber for any ten year old.

“Who’s upset you then?” Beca asked. “I might be old but I can still throw a punch.”

Anne smiled, but only just. “Is grandma better yet?”

Beca frowned. “No, honey. I’m sorry.”

Anne had been the apple of Chloe’s eye right up until the moment she started to forget her.

Blake and her husband David had made the decision early on that the kids shouldn’t visit Chloe. It would be too hard for them to see their grandma and have her not recognise them.

“Is she going to get better soon?”

Beca let out a small sigh. “I don’t know,” she said.

Anne’s face fell, and Beca’s heart broke.

She wished she didn’t have to leave these kids behind.

“Listen, your grandma loves you very much. And so do I. And we always will, no matter what.”

Davey started to fuss on Beca’s knee, and she turned her attention back to him.

“If I wrote grandma a letter, would you give it to her?” Anne asked. “I don’t want her to think I’ve forgotten her.”

Tears filled Beca’s eyes, and she smiled. “Of course. But you should give it to your Mom or aunt Riley. They’ll see her before I do.”

Anne nodded, and went off to her room.

The rest of the night continued the same way every Thursday night dinner did.

Blake complained that Beca ate too little and that her husband ate too much.

The twins would devour anything left too close to them, and Anne would pick out any bit of vegetable she found, no matter how small it had been cut up.

Then Beca would attempt to help with the dishes until she was told to cut it out, and Riley would drive her home.

Before she left that night, she hugged and kissed each of her grandkids, and told them all she loved them beyond comprehension.

She kissed Blake’s cheeks - standing on her tiptoes to do so - and briefly cupped her face in her hands. She told her she loved her too.

She patted David on the arm.

“You’re a good man,” she said. “You’ll take care of them.”

“Jeez, Mom, what’s got you so morbid?”

“Just the joys of ageing,” Beca said.

She didn’t know why she was feeling so sentimental that night, but she put it down to the emotion of the day.

In the car, Beca was quiet again.

“Something’s up with you,” Riley said.

“Today was tough,” Beca said, her head on the window. She turned to look at her daughter, and she seemed to transform in front of her eyes and back again. “Has anyone ever told you how much you look like your mom?”

“You, every day since I was born,” Riley said, laughing as she ran a hand through her short, ginger hair.

“This new girlfriend of yours,” Beca said, “is she nice?”

“What? Yes, Mom, of course.”

“She treats you well? She’s kind? She doesn’t blow up at wait staff or lose her temper in traffic?”

“She’s great,” Riley said. “Look, you can meet her soon, okay? She’s just a bit nervous around parents. She… she didn’t get on great with her own. They weren’t cool when she came out.”

Beca let out a sigh. “Poor girl. You’d think my generation would have grown out of that. Apparently not. As long as she makes you happy, and treats you well, then that’s all that matters.”

Riley laughed. “What, are you trying to make sure I’m married off before you kick it?”

Beca laughed too. “No. I just want you to be happy, my girl.”

“I am,” Riley said. “And not because I’m in a relationship, but because I just… am.”

Beca smiled. “Good. I’ve… I’ve had a very good life, Ri. And I don’t think I realised how good it was, how lucky I was, until your Mom got sick. I wish I could go back and just… enjoy it. Savour it. Those moments I spent with your mom where we would just… talk. And be with each other. I wish I could tell myself to appreciate each and every one.” Beca wiped her eyes. “Promise me you’ll do that?”

“Mom, you sound like you’re giving me some goodbye speech.”

Beca smiled and shook her head. “Promise me.”

“I promise,” Riley said. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m sure,” Beca said.

They pulled up outside Beca’s home.

“You want me to walk you in?”

“I’m not that old yet. I love you. You know that, right?”

“Of course I do. I love you too, Mom.”

Beca smiled at her daughter, and leant across the car to kiss her cheek.

“See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Beca said. “I need to pop into town and pick up a prescription.”

“I’ll take you.”

Beca smiled. “You’re a good girl. See you tomorrow.”

Riley waved and watched as her Mom walked into her house and shut the door behind her. She drove to her girlfriend’s, her heart heavy with sadness for her parents.

Maybe tonight she should tell Sarah that she loved her.

It was true, she had always just been too scared to say it.

She wasn’t sure what she was afraid of anymore.

Beca’s house was as quiet as it always was these days.

She made a cup of chamomile tea, and popped open the Thursday PM slot on her pill caddy. She took the handful of pills and swallowed them with a mouthful of tea.

Then she settled herself in her favourite armchair, and turned on some music.

She was tired.

Really tired.

It had been such a long day.

She felt a tightness in her chest, but it wasn’t any worse than usual so she thought nothing of it.

The song changed and the opening notes of Titanium played out.

This was considered an oldie now.

Beca smiled, and closed her eyes as she remembered the first time she sang that song with her wife.

God, what a life they’d had.

She didn’t open her eyes again.

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geekgirles · 3 years

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Mirrors

Disclaimer: This was originally going to be much longer (and it is very long already) but since I might have overdone it, I will be cutting it in two. The second part will feature the similarities and differences between Marinette and Kagami and some final thoughts.

Part 2

Kagami’s name means ‘mirror’ in Japanese, and according to Thomas Astruc, that’s not a coincidence. Indeed, she’s supposed to be a reflection of the main characters. This trait is best seen through her role as an alternative love interest for Adrien, but she is also a reflection of Marinette’s own character; more specifically, her own relationship with Adrien.

However, the way Kagami works as a mirror changes from one character to the other. For Adrien, she’s a direct parallel to many of the traits that make him who he is, only that she adds more nuance to them. For Marinette, despite their many similarities, they are also opposites.

In this analysis I will reflect (pun not-intended) on the way Kagami works as Adrien’s mirror, how she does the same for Marinette, and the way that affects her relationship with both of them.

Adrien and Kagami:

As Adrien’s alternative love interest over Ladybug, it is to be expected that Kagami would have enough things in common with him for Adrien to be able to relate to her and see her as something other than a friend.

And this is one of the reasons why Adrien has considered Kagami as his girlfriend and not Marinette; her proximity to his own situation.

Kagami’s introductory episode, Riposte, already focused a lot of its attention in highlighting how similar the two are. Aside from sharing a common interest in fencing (which allows them later on to spend time together outside of school or business-related occasions), Riposte already showed enough of Kagami’s background to make us understand why Adrien would bond with her. Their respective parents are both strict, expect nothing but the best from their kids’ performance in everything they do and, most importantly, they’re both very absent in their lives while simultaneously being present in every aspect of them.

We all know how Gabriel controls every single aspect of Adrien’s life while never spending time with his son at the same time, but Tomoe is just as controlling and overprotective. In Ikari Gozen she considered her daughter having friends should be at the bottom of her priority list, even hinting some trust issues with the sole idea.

And, despite that, in Riposte Kagami was all alone in the car, calling her mother to let her know that she had failed, but not showing any signs of expecting any sort of comfort from her. After all, she said it herself:

“There's no such thing as a second chance in my family.”

Another parallel between Adrien and Kagami is precisely the fact that Tomoe relies on someone else to look after her daughter, just like Gabriel tends to shove his responsibilities with Adrien onto Nathalie and Gorizilla. Except that in Tomoe’s case it’s even worse; she entrusts her daughter to Tatsu, an artificial intelligence, not a human being.

Of course, the similarities between them don’t end there. Adrien and Kagami are pretty much birds of a feather in the sense that both of them are very inexperienced with socialising. They’re both lonely, rich kids with a difficult home life who just want to be able to do things most kids their age do.

That’s why Adrien connected so well with Kagami; they’re on the same boat.

As I said earlier, Kagami acts as a mirror to Adrien, not only because of the similarities that have already been discussed, but also because her personality is very much like Adrien’s, except she either takes things to the extreme, or isn’t as similar to Adrien as she should.

Facing their parents:

Believe it or not, when it comes to calling out their parents for their behaviour, Adrien is more willing to face his father than Kagami her mother.

Ever since his mother disappeared, Adrien’s been trying to be there for his father. Pretty much everything he does that isn’t related to his friends or his life as Chat Noir he does it for Gabriel. He studies Chinese, goes to photoshoots, fences, plays the piano, and any other extracurricular activity I might have forgotten about because he thinks that’s what will make his father happy. Deep down, Adrien knows it’s unfair that he’s forced to live like that, he just sucks it up because he knows his father’s hurting and wants to alleviate that burden.

But whenever Gabriel’s behaviour becomes too unreasonable for even Adrien to excuse, he’s always ready to rebel against him in some way. In Origins he tried and succeeded in going to school instead of staying at home like his father wished. In Santa Claws he ran away from home because of Gabriel’s cold and distant attitude despite being the first Christmas without Emilie for the both of them. In Simon Says, as Chat Noir, he called his father out on his stubbornness and refusal to get help despite being an akuma’s main target. And in Feast he showed his disappointment and disapproval of the way Gabriel brushed Nathalie’s condition off.

And he did all that on his own, either for himself or for the sake of others.

Kagami, on the other hand, still relies on others to face her mother. In Ikari Gozen, despite going against her mother’s wishes, it wasn’t until Marinette had the guts to try and stand up to Tomoe that Kagami managed to put her foot down in her request to spend some time with her new friend. And unlike Adrien as Chat Noir in Simon Says where, despite having some help from the confidence his secret identity gives him, he confronted his father on his behaviour, Ryuuko confronted Ikari Gozen, not Tomoe. In other words, she stood her ground against an exaggeration of her mother’s flaws, not against her mother’s true self.

Moving on:

While the show has shown Adrien having difficulties letting go of Ladybug, the main difference between him and Kagami is that he has at least considered it. Since Frozer, Kagami has shown she will fight for Adrien until the very end.

In fact, of the four teens romantically involved with each other, Kagami is the only one who hasn’t expressed any sort of conformity with the idea of her love interest not choosing her in the end. Even Marinette and Adrien, despite hurting immensely, had considered letting go of their respective crushes and pursuing somebody else when it looked like they were getting nowhere.

In Frozer, despite acting nonchalant about it, Kagami was very clear to Adrien: “The day you realize you've got the wrong target, I'll be here.”

With that she makes it very obvious that she’s willing to wait for Adrien, no matter how long it takes him to realise his feelings for her. That’s Kagami’s approach: she prefers to wait before accepting defeat.

In a way, this makes her a foil to Luka as well.

Ever since Frozer, Luka has shown he will support Marinette if she chooses to go after Adrien instead of him in the end, whereas Kagami, while never outright declaring she won’t be there for Adrien if he weren’t to choose her, she never really hinted she would move on from him if he did, either.

The best example of this would, in a way, be what she said as Oni-Chan: “He's the only one who's worthy of me! And the only one I will ever love!”

If I’m being perfectly honest, this sentence doesn’t do Kagami’s character and her feelings for Adrien justice. The way it was written, it just makes her look unreasonable and like a yandere. And you might say it’s because she was akumatised. And you would be right, if it weren’t because Luka’s confession to Marinette also doubled as a declaration of protection and wasn’t painted in nowhere near the same negative light.

But back to the point.

Summing up, the kind of trouble Adrien has moving on he inherited from his father (in a, thankfully, less worrisome way), Kagami has too, but hers seems to be more severe. And there’s a high chance this will play an important role in Lies, or at least in season 4...

Making friends:

Now, as stated above, this is one of the points they have the most in common but also have the most differences in; their issues with socialising.

What makes the two of them so similar is that they’re both kids who’ve been sheltered their whole life, kids who long to have some friends of their own, and who, as a result, struggle greatly with reading social cues.

However, their respective personalities are what really makes the difference.

Adrien is kind, honest, and approachable, both on a superficial and deep level. Kagami, on the other hand, is all those things, but once you get to know her; at first glance she might seem cold, honest to the point of brutality, and difficult to connect with.

Unlike Lila, who got the class’ attention for her supposed life and high status, these two really are the children of influential people, and yet that’s not why the class appreciates Adrien, or even pretends to get along with Kagami for what it could give them. They’re not that shallow.

The class likes Adrien because he’s a cinnamon roll. And, judging by the girls’ reactions to Kagami in both Frozer and Desperada, they aren’t close to her because they only know her on a superficial, non-flattering level.

They’ve both been sheltered and yet, Adrien manages to connect with others better. While Kagami had to rely on an app to try and get along with Marinette, with rather awkward results. And, let’s not forget, it wasn’t until Marinette got to see Kagami was just like Adrien at the beginning that she realised that she’d misjudged her and actively tried to be her friend.

And now the three of them are close friends! (Leaving shipping drama aside…)

The main difference between the two is that, at first sight, Adrien is more approachable than Kagami.

Recklessness:

As the series progressed, we’ve seen little by little how these two tend to be reckless at times. Especially when handling their miraculouses.

Now, it is true that Marinette has made her fair share of mistakes as well because she was impulsive, but most of the time that flaw shone through as Marinette, not Ladybug. Whereas Adrien and Kagami appeared to be far more composed as their civilian selves (because they have to be due to their parents’ strictness) than their superhero selves.

When they both received their miraculouses they both made the same mistake: they transformed before learning everything they needed to in order to be effective users. In Adrien’s case, he didn’t listen to Plagg when he was about to tell him about the Cataclysm’s time limit. And in Kagami’s she transformed just as Longg was about to tell her about Ladybug’s plan.

As a result, Chat Noir wasted his power when facing off against Stone Heart, and Ryuuko allowed Ikari Gozen to capture Chat Noir.

Moreover, in both cases they viewed their newfound powers as a chance to escape their parents and their lifestyles, both literally and figuratively. Therefore, judging by these similarities as well as the others we have already discussed, I’m going to dub this impulsiveness they display as superheroes as the “Sheltered Rich Kid Syndrome.”

Even so, there is a difference between the two: Kagami was actually more reckless than Adrien when she first transformed.

In Origins, Chat Noir acted on his own not because he wanted to, but because Ladybug was still doubting herself to be of assistance. But, the moment she stepped in and took charge of the situation, Chat followed her plans without hesitation.

Kagami, on the other hand, fuelled by her own issues with her mother, her impulsiveness, and her newfound liberty, insisted on taking on Ikari Gozen by herself without a plan or even Ladybug and Chat Noir’s assistance (despite them being the seasoned heroes of Paris). And this decision lacked forethought because 1) she had no experience fighting akumas, 2) despite her experience fighting her mother, Kagami always loses (and that is when Tomoe has no superpowers), and 3) she obviously had no strategy.

It wasn’t until she ultimately failed and made things more complicated for the heroes that she realised her mistake.

In other words, while both Adrien and Kagami use their alter egos as an escape from their proverbial prisons, Adrien takes his responsibilities as Chat Noir and his loyalty to Ladybug more seriously than Kagami.

Honesty:

I did say earlier that Adrien and Kagami are both honest people. Even so, saying they’re at the same level of honesty would be a lie.

Adrien’s sincerity is what warmed Marinette up to him, just like it did for Kagami, but he’s nowhere near as honest as Kagami.

As @miraculouslycool and @flightfoot pointed out not long ago, Lila is actually what Adrien would have turned into if it weren’t for his redeeming qualities and the use he gives to his abilities. Because both are kids who have learned to be sneaky in order to get what they want. Adrien can’t afford to have his father finding out about the things he hides from him because it would lead to disastrous consequences, like when he pulled him out of school over the grimoire.

True, Adrien chooses to be honest, kind to others, and the best person he can possibly be. Major kudos for that. But he’s still not above lying or using relatively underhanded tactics to get the results he wants. The best example being his lie to Théo about being an item with Ladybug just to get him to back off.

In a way, that could be a reason why he’s so disgusted by Lila’s behaviour. Unlike him, she doesn’t use her lies and manipulation as a last resort, she uses them with everyone regardless of her interactions with them and the consequences of her actions just because she can.

But I’m getting off topic.

As stated above, Adrien chooses to be honest, but is perfectly capable of being sly and sneaky. He knows how to operate in the shadows.

Kagami doesn’t.

And that is probably because in her case not being honest is what can get her in serious trouble, let alone if she misbehaves or not. So, fear of the consequences tied with a natural disdain for lies have made Kagami to be honest to a fault.

And this wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing if it weren’t for the fact that she’s so honest, she becomes brutally honest; coming off as rude to others. To put it simply, Kagami doesn’t know how to sugarcoat things, for one reason or another. Which is why her assessment on Marinette’s personality based on her deduction of her blood type and a single question about her favourite season can be seen as rude or impolite. And it is perfectly fine to see it like that! After all, that is the conclusion many of us would arrive at if we were in Marinette’s situation and had no context on why the other person is acting like that.

Honestly, if I’d been in Marinette’s shoes, I would’ve been like, “Joke’s on you. I’m type A.”

Basically, while Adrien is used to working in the shadows, Kagami is forthright and prefers to face things head on, and both are mindsets and strategies with strengths and weaknesses.

The rings:

Now this is another delicious parallel between the two, just like Marinette and Luka both have earrings.

As we’ve been saying all along, Adrien and Kagami both have a lot on their plate. They have many responsibilities that can become a burden in the long run, especially when we keep in mind that they are still children. Just like Marinette is exhausted from having to be level-headed and responsible in so many scenarios.

However, the rings Adrien and Kagami wear are both parallels and opposites from one another. They both represent some kind of responsibility at their core, but the effects of said responsibility vary.

In Adrien’s case, he wields the black cat miraculous. Needless to say, this ties him with the duties that come from being Chat Noir and having the power of destruction by his side. A power that, as seen in Miraculer and the New York Special, can be disastrous if handled poorly. And yet, his miraculous actually represents the best part of his life, because it gives him freedom. Being Chat Noir has allowed him to be himself, without the restraint from his father’s presence. It gave him the chance to meet Ladybug who, aside from being the girl he loves, is also his best friend. The miraculous has just… given him a chance to live.

Adrien’s ring is his saving grace.

On the contrary, Kagami’s ring represents the kind of duties she’s far more familiar with. Her ring ties her to her family.

That ring is a constant reminder of the pressure she’s under, of her family’s expectations, of the person she’s been raised to believe she should be. Which is symbolised by her family’s kanji being engraved on the ring.

As seen in Riposte, when Kagami loses any kind of challenge she’s supposed to have been prepared for, she believes she has let her family down.

Kagami’s ring is the lock of her golden cage.

Stay tuned for Part 2!

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