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thespianbooks · 4 years

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A Court of Nightmares and Starlight //Chapter 4//

(Chapter one) (Chapter two) (Chapter three) (Chapter four) (Chapter five) (Chapter six) (Chapter seven) (Chapter eight) (Chapter nine) (Chapter ten)

(tags: @thron3ofbooks, @df3ndyr, @judexcardanxgreenbriar, @art-e-mis, @herondamnn, @the-third-me, @im-still-trying-here, @emikadreams)

Starfall was quickly approaching and the whole estate was buzzing with activity and preparations for our upcoming party. After witnessing and observing her first Starfall, Elain fell in love with the holiday. Since moving into the estate and coming up with the idea that we hold the festivities here, she took over planning for the event and made every year a grand celebration. In the years prior, it was always Mor and I that arranged some kind of gathering for the Inner Circle and my sisters at the House of Wind, along with the people of Velaris. Admittingly, I was never any good at it—not that I was obligated to, as Rhys pointed out every year. He made sure to remind me that while I was indeed his wife, as High Lady I was under no obligation to plan extravagant and elaborate parties for our court. I wasn’t the prized and pretty Lady that Ianthe and Tamlin previously tried to make me into. Despite this, I grew to actually enjoy planning some of the details of the celebration with Elain every year. Most of the work was orchestrated and run by her; now Mor and I only gladly assisted her.

With Starfall also being my favorite fae holiday, I couldn’t help feeling a little sentimental every year. My first ever had followed the months I was finally beginning to heal from the events of Under the Mountain; it was also the day I realized I was in love with Rhys. It was like an anniversary of sorts, and I knew the same was true for him. To Rhysand, it was the first he was able to celebrate in nearly fifty years with his friends—his family; when he also started to heal. That night, and every night we celebrated Starfall in the last several years, we danced together until all of our other companions cleared out for the evening. The spirits always seemed to join us as they glittered across the night sky and into early dawn. The beauty of it always inspired me to paint, and over the decade I painted a series of portraits and landscapes depicting whatever Starfall memory resurfaced. Some of them were of the sky itself glittering with the spirits; some were of our silhouettes dancing on the balcony with the landscape behind us, and some were of Rhys’s handsome face with the star spirit that had splattered on it. I often dreamt of the way we laughed that night; how I smiled for the first time in months and the look of awe in his face.

Starfall was undoubtedly our holiday.

This year, however, might be the first I probably wouldn’t get to enjoy myself. Although the symptoms of my illness were now gone, I couldn’t shake this lingering fatigue. I was beginning to worry it would hinder my ability to stay up and dance with Rhys. I held onto that tradition throughout the year, because it was the one day and night, we spent together without having to worry about our responsibilities as High Lord and Lady. This near-crippling fatigue was threatening my one peaceful day of the year.

Lately I was often drained of energy, and in the last week I took regular naps in order to make it to dinnertime. On most nights, I would be thoroughly depleted of any strength, and I knew everyone was beginning to take notice. After falling asleep halfway through our meal and Rhys having to gently wake me up, Cassian tried to cancel our usual morning training sessions—which I refused. Just because I was exhausted didn’t mean I couldn’t keep up with my regular strength training routine. I also noticed that since their return from the mountains, he and Azriel seemed to linger in whatever common room I was in; as if they were keeping a watchful eye on me, even with Rhys glued to my side. True to his word, Rhys reeled in his primal male-bonded instincts after his return. Our mating frenzy ebbed out a couple of days after, and once we integrated ourselves back into our everyday routine, he was definitely more at ease. However, after noticing how spent I was at the end of the day, I could tell a fraction of it returned—as much as he tried to suppress it.

Mor and Amren mostly teased me when I dozed off during the day; the former more often than the latter, and Elain just pushed a slew of different herbal teas at me throughout the day and promised it would help keep me awake. Even Nesta, who rarely left neither her living quarters nor the library, seemed to worry about me and visited me at random intervals throughout the day; sometimes delivering a cup of tea on Elain’s behalf. Though she mostly just took a quick survey of my form and left.

After a few days of this, I became determined not to cause any of them more concern and now did my best to hide my fatigue as much as possible. I forced myself not to take anymore naps, gulped down multiple cups of Elain’s tea, and perked myself up for dinner. Luckily, the nightmares that had recurred for a short time no longer plagued me at night; a small mercy when I was weary and needed the night to re-energize. I knew it all had to do with my previous illness, and I would not allow it to rule over me—especially with Starfall only a day away. At breakfast this morning I demanded Cassian and I resume our normal training session after he tried insisting again that we cancel. In spite of Rhys agreeing with me, I noticed Cassian swear under his breath before reluctantly agreeing as well.

I chose to ignore it at that moment, and the duration of our meal resumed without issue. After the conversation switched from resuming my training, we all began discussing our anticipation for Starfall. Mor theorized that there might be more spirits this year than there had been in several decades, claiming her power of truth revealed it to her in a dream. In true Inner Circle fashion, they all placed their bets on the validity of her claims. Even I placed a bet, hoping in Mor’s favor that there would be a grand star fall unlike any I ever dreamed. In the last ten years, the spirits numbers continued to dwindle, and every year I hoped it would change. After finishing our meals and excusing ourselves from the table, I walked back to our bedroom with Rhys to change into my training leathers.

“Don’t think I’m trying to stop you,” Rhys started once we were inside, “but I feel compelled to ask if it's possible for you to take it easy during your training today?”

I glanced at him, “Why would I do that?” I asked.

He gave me a knowing look, and I rolled my eyes, “Rhys, I’m fine in case you haven’t noticed.”

“Oh I’ve noticed alright, noticed how much you try to hide your exhaustion. Did you forget about our lovely bond, Feyre darling?” he asked as he grinned smugly and I tossed my top at him as I pulled it off, grabbing my training tunic to pull over my head.

“Whatever smartass. I’m fine, I’m just tired from all the party planning with Elain and Mor. Being a High Lady and supervising everything is just exhausting,” I lamented with a dramatic sigh.

He chuckled and folded my blouse, setting it on the bed before leaning against the door frame as he watched me change. “If you’re sure,” he conceded. “Try not to give Cassian a hard time for going easy on you, because you know he will.”

“I can handle Cassian. It's about time I vent some of my frustration on you overprotective Illyrian males,” I said with a grin as I finished dressing.

His smug grin was his only response as I gave him a quick peck on the cheek before leaving the room and down the hall that led to the training pit. Cassian was already waiting for me, arms crossed over his broad chest and I noticed Azriel standing in the distance. While he seemed to be observing Elain as she clipped fresh flowers in the greenhouse, I knew he was actually taking it upon himself to keep a close eye on two of the Archeron sisters.

“Well since you’ve been so damn sleepy lately, we’re going back to the basics today,” he grinned and held his palms up, motioning me forward.

“I have not,” I insisted before raising a brow, “basic punching forms? Really?”

“Look, I’m not going to keep battling with a pre…pretty sick female,” he corrected himself, eyes narrowing in a cringe at his own choice of words.

I stared at him blankly, moving my hands to my hips, “Wanna tell me what’s going on?” I demanded.

He shrugged simply, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“‘Pretty sick female’?” I posed

He shrugged again, “I stuttered.” He held his hands up, motioning me to advance.

I rolled my eyes and began landing blows into his palm, keeping a steady pace for a few minutes before I felt that glimmer at my core. I stopped, blinking as it sparkled in my abdomen for a few seconds and suddenly stopped. I hadn’t felt it in almost a week, and thought it finally faded away along with my other symptoms. It felt...stronger this time, as if it were a gut-shattering feeling trying to warn me of something.

I shrugged it away and re-positioned my fists and stance, looking to Cassian, who was frowning at my hesitation. “What was that?” He asked.

“Nothing,” I promised.

“Feyre, I-”

“It was nothing, Cassian.” I snapped, motioning for him to let me resume.

His frown deepened before he slowly raised his hands, palms facing in my direction. I landed a couple more blows before the world around me suddenly spun. I didn’t have time to reorient myself, everything twisting away from me and I only knew that I lost my footing when a pair of strong arms caught me.

Spinning, spinning, spinning.

I heard voices calling out my name, but couldn’t register who they belonged to as a high-pitched whine resounded loudly in my ears—drowning out everything and everyone, my world still whirling in circles. I closed my eyes, willing everything to settle for a minute. I briefly heard Rhys’s voice, but couldn’t discern his words as I opened my eyes again. I was able to see his face for a few seconds before darkness edged in around my vision; taking over completely a second later.

I blinked slowly, everything blurry as I regained consciousness. It took me a second longer to register my surroundings, realizing I was laying on my bed and I could hear Rhys’s voice outside the bedroom door—giving orders. I sighed, realizing what happened out in the training pit and slowly sat up; afraid of the dizziness returning. I paused as my stomach churned and I groaned, fighting the oncoming queasiness.

Rhys, sensing I was awake, walked into the room and straight to my side, “I called Madja, she’s on her way,” he said, brushing the hair from my face.

I swallowed with a cringe, “You didn’t have to do that,” I argued weakly, resting a hand over my stomach in an attempt to settle it.

“You fainted Feyre. You’ve been tired, no—exhausted, all week. Before that, you were sick. Something’s not right,” he reasoned desperately, kneeling beside me and placing a hand over mine.

I was about to argue again, but I felt that oh-so-familiar flicker in the pit of my stomach. It fluttered wildly between us, like a heartbeat—my heartbeat, pounding beneath his touch and through our bond. I let out a shuddering breath, my stomach roiling violently in protest and I cringed, trying not to let it overwhelm me.

Alarmed, Rhys straightened, but before he could say anything, I was up and rushing for the bathing room with him on my heels. He pulled my hair back in time as I vomited into the toilet, sobbing a bit between each heave. He rubbed gentle circles on my back as I wretched. When my stomach finally settled and the wave of nausea ebbed, he flushed the toilet for me as I caught my breath and leaned back against his chest. He held me like that for a minute as I sniffed and regained my strength, rubbing my arms lightly.

“Better?” he asked quietly.

I nodded and sighed deeply, slowly sitting upright with his help, “I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

He cupped my chin lightly, his eyes meeting mine, “You have nothing to be sorry for, Feyre. It's not your fault you're sick,” he said before standing and helping me to my feet.

He kept a hand on the small of my back as we walked back into the room and I frowned. It made no sense why my symptoms returned so abruptly. “I really thought I was fine. I mean, I felt a lot better,” I tried to explain as I sat on the bed.

Rhys turned his wrist over, summoning a damp washcloth from whatever magic storage he usually summoned from, and motioned me to lie down. “Just relax for now. Madja will be here shortly and she’ll examine you,” he said.

I sighed in resignation, laying back and moaning in relief as he pressed the washcloth on my forehead. I smiled in gratitude and he returned it with a solemn nod. I gripped his free hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

“Don’t look so grim,” I said. “I’m just sick, nothing more.”

He nodded again, forcing a smile to his own lips that didn’t reach his eyes, and I knew he was in full mother hen protective mode. I could see his tense shoulders, truly ill at ease over my health. He would probably remain that way for the duration of whatever illness was plaguing me, just like he always did when I was on my cycle.

I paused as the thought suddenly occurred to me. I made sure my shield of adamant was still up, knowing how vulnerable it was lately, and checked over my mental calendar.

I was late. Very late.

As a human, as a high fae, I was never late for my cycle. I remembered briefly panicking when I realized I hadn’t gotten one after being made, before learning and actually suffering through my first. In educating me about what a fae cycle entailed, Madja also taught me how to discern between the symptoms of my cycle...and early pregnancy. Nausea, fatigue...and a missed cycle. I quickly ran through my memories of the last few weeks; while I had experienced a certain level of fatigue during my cycles, they were never to this extreme. The nausea spells I equated to my nightmares or whatever mysterious illness I thought I had, but now after just realizing how late I actually was…

Was I finally pregnant?

Since his return, Rhys still pointed out that my scent remained off. At first, we both wrote it off as part of my illness, but it was all starting to make sense. If I was pregnant, if our child was actually growing inside of me, it would explain why my scent was different. I tried not to react as I met Rhys’s concerned gaze and squeezed his hand again, willing my galloping heart not to give me away.

“Who were you talking to outside?” I asked, motioning outside our door.

“Cassian and Mor. They, and Azriel, saw you go down and Cassian caught you before sending Mor to call for me,” he explained, moving the cloth to my cheek. “They’re all worried about you.”

“You should let them know I’m okay when Madja gets here,” I suggested, genuinely wanting him to reassure the others and their concerns over my well-being.

“I’m not leaving your side, Feyre,” he said firmly.

“I’m not a child Rhys. I don’t need the High Lord standing idly by as the healer examines me,” I argued.

His overprotective behavior also made sense now. We were mates, of course his primal instincts would make him aware of my pregnancy before he was. If I was pregnant; I needed to confirm it with Madja before I revealed my suspicions. If I told him that I might be pregnant, he would be prematurely ecstatic. We both had ten long years of yearning for our first-born child, and if I was somehow wrong about this, if I raised both of our hopes up only to be told I wasn’t actually pregnant...I wouldn’t be able to bear the disappointment.

I felt his reluctance and he forced a smirk as he brought my hand up to his lips, “As my High Lady commands,” he said quietly, and I could hear the silent ache behind his words.

I moved my hand to cup his cheek, “You know I’ll be in great hands when she gets here. Let everyone know I’m feeling a little better, and when Madja finishes examining me then I’ll fill you in. It won’t be anything serious,” I promised.

I was either sick with some ridiculous faerie ailment, or pregnant. I hoped to the Mother it was the latter as we heard a delicate knock on our bedroom door. Rhys was immediately up and went to answer the door; I sat up as he led her inside.

“Hello again my lady,” the older female greeted, her dark eyes sparkling lightly as she set her healer’s bag aside.

I returned her friendly greeting with a smile and looked over at Rhys, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he hesitated in the doorway. He gave me a once-over and met Madja’s gaze as she waited for one of us to give her an order. I cleared my throat and Rhys looked at me again, I brushed his dark shields lightly and he let them down for me.

I’ll be alright. Let the others know that everything’s fine and that I’m being seen now.

I saw him hesitate for a fraction of a second before he nodded. “I’ll be in the sitting room,” he said, almost a warning before he finally left the room.

“What seems to be the problem dear?” Madja asked, as I sighed deeply. “The High Lord informed me that you collapsed, and you’ve been rather ill. Would you care to elaborate?”

“I uh, actually,” I fumbled over my words, unsure of how to even say them now. The healer was patient as she took my wrist gently to check my pulse; her usual first step in her examinations that allowed me a moment to gather my bearings.

“I’m late for my cycle,” I managed. “A few weeks ago, these awful nausea spells started and lasted a few days, and I’ve been so exhausted. Exhausted isn’t even the right word for it; I have no energy. This week was the worst of it, and then today…” I trailed off before glancing down at my stomach briefly, “I realized I’m a week late.”

The older female nodded, her dark wrinkled fingers releasing their gentle hold on my wrist and motioned me to lay down, “Have you experienced any sensitivity, or swelling, in your breasts? Unusually frequent trips to the bathing room?” she asked, her hands moving to my blouse before meeting my gaze for permission to further her examination.

I nodded as I thought it over, her delicate hands rolling my tunic up to expose my abdomen. I blushed as I recalled Rhys’s recent comments about my breasts. He often admired them, but after our reunion last week he happily noted that they seemed more...endowed than he remembered.

“I think my breasts are a little swollen, but they haven’t been sensitive,” I admitted. Her hands now palpated my abdomen gently and I gasped as I felt that glimmer return. She must have noticed it as well because her hands immediately halted.

“A-Also that, I’ve felt that a few times now, and right before I fainted it was strong. Stronger than I’ve ever felt it before, and the next thing I knew the world was spinning,” I explained with a frown.

The female’s dark features seemed to brighten as she grinned and took my hand again, moving it to rest on my abdomen, “My lady, that feeling is your youngling. I don’t need to finish my examination to confirm that you are indeed pregnant.”

I gaped at her, glancing at my hand on my stomach, “W-What do you mean...?” I choked.

She chuckled lightly and placed her hand over mine, “You and the High Lord have a powerful mating bond. These bonds are rare today, but one as strong as yours allows you to have a keen sense for one another. Back in our primitive history, there were no tests or examinations to confirm a pregnancy. If a mated female was pregnant, once her youngling developed enough in the womb, her bond would alarm her and her mate that they had been successful in producing offspring. Over the centuries, this innate ability dampened to a dull and gentle glimmer,” she smiled as she explained. “It is rare even now, but in the case of a powerfully mated High Lord and High Lady, it is there. Congratulations, you are pregnant.”

I exhaled a long breath without realizing I had been holding it in throughout her speech. My eyes burned as I looked at my stomach again, my fingers brushing my skin lightly as I felt the flutter pulse through me again. After a decade of trying; of being disappointed year after year and both of us dreaming and longing for the first-born son the Bone Carver showed me all those years ago, the moment was finally here. After ten years of loving Rhysand, of almost losing him forever, I had a piece of him with me.

His child, our child, was growing inside me. The beautiful little boy who looked like an exact replica of his father; who I saw in my dreams and longed to cradle in my arms would finally arrive. My heart fluttered at the thought of Rhys holding this child, of his warm smile and loving eyes. I couldn’t help but sob at the idea of it all, my mind immediately scrambling for ideas on how I would reveal the news to him. I wanted nothing more than to surprise him, and I was glad I had convinced him to step out while Madja examined me. The effect would have been lost had he been hovering over me as the healer worked.

No, I would deliver the news the same way I had gifted him the vision of our son on that Winter Solstice we decided to start a family. This time however, I would finally get to announce the arrival of our son on Starfall.

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fallynleaf · 3 years

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(This is under a cut because it’s a long post about wrestling awards, but it’s also about creative storytelling in bleak conditions, the incredible emotional power of stories about love, and Japanese women’s wrestling taking important strides in bucking the idol-culture-esque trend where joshi wrestlers are expected to retire before they get married)

I don’t really put much stock into wrestling awards, because it’s all extremely subjective, and many of them, like the Tokyo Sports Awards, are heavily kayfabed/politicked anyway, but the 2020 Net Pro-Wrestling Awards, which were voted on by fans in Japan, were really fascinating to me.

The top 10 promotions were [source]:

NJPW

NOAH

DDT

Stardom

Muscle

TJPW

AEW

ChocoPro

AJPW

Ice Ribbon

This list is interesting, because it basically reflects the direction our own discord server’s interest took this year (though we’d probably rank them in a different order). The top promotions in our server currently are probably NJPW, NOAH, TJPW, Stardom, DDT, AEW, and ChocoPro, (not necessarily in that order). I’ve spent a lot of time over the past year thinking about which companies did the best job, creatively, with having to adapt to pandemic-era wrestling conditions, and I think this list reflects that somewhat. Many of these companies produced matches and performers that really stood out despite putting on shows in less than ideal conditions.

I’m especially happy that ChocoPro did as well as it did (beating WWE, you love to see it). It’s a very small promotion, but out of all of the companies in the list, it’s the only one that was specifically designed to operate in pandemic conditions, and it has a genuinely innovative format that was born from that. It’s also very accessible! ChocoPro operates with a no paywall model, and it’s distributed on youtube completely for free!

Also, four of these companies are directly part of the DDT family (and ChocoPro has extensive DDT connections), and two others (AEW and NJPW) currently have former DDT wrestlers as their world champions. I constantly think about how DDT has had more influence on the wrestling industry as a whole than most people really give it credit for, haha, but 2020 really proved that. DDT is simply better at creative adaption than most.

The top 10 MVP list was [source]:

Go Shiozaki (NOAH)

Tetsuya Naito (NJPW)

Hiromu Takahashi (NJPW)

Tetsuya Endo (DDT)

Minoru Fujita

Kota Ibushi (NJPW)

El Desperado (NJPW)

Kenta (NJPW)

Asuka (WWE)

Katsuhiko Nakajima (NOAH)

Fans voted Go Shiozaki as the top MVP of 2020, and that made me happy, because it’s very deserved!! He narrowly missed out on receiving the Tokyo Sports MVP award, so I’m glad to see him recognized here. Go truly did carry NOAH throughout 2020, and he really put the company back on the map again for many people.

I had no interest in watching NOAH before this year, but I ended up watching Go Shiozaki vs Kazuyuki Fujita from the March 29 show because I heard so much about it, and it blew me away. I’ve already talked about this match in bits and pieces; it’s the one that starts with a literal 30-minute staredown. It was a very avant garde decision to make, because it changes the entire structure of the match (it was a title match with a 60-minute time limit), and it’s something they never could have gotten away with if they’d had a crowd in the venue. But, performing in an empty arena, they could do it. It’s amazing how compelling it can be, just watching two wrestlers stare at each other, but it was really, really cool.

That match was Go’s first title defense (he won the GHC title shortly before the pandemic shut everything down), and he’s really had quite the run with the title ever since. The next thing he did that got me to tune back in to NOAH was when he got betrayed by his tag partner (Katsuhiko Nakajima, number 10 on the list), which of course pushed all of my favorite wrestling narrative buttons.

There’s just something about Go that makes him so compelling. It was even enough to get some friends of mine who primarily root for heels to really want him to succeed, haha. And I just really have to commend him for that. He was a late-blooming ace tasked with the incredibly rough responsibility of representing his company through a dramatic business shakeup while also weathering a global pandemic that drastically affected every aspect of the wrestling medium itself, and he was still able to put on innovative performances and tell very emotional stories and bring in new fans even in less than ideal conditions.

Some highlights from the list of top matches [source]:

1. Hiromu Takahashi vs El Desperado (12/11) NJPW 2. Go Shiozaki vs Katsuhiko Nakajima (11/22) NOAH 3. Go Shiozaki vs Kazuyuki Fujita (3/29) NOAH 4. Go Shiozaki vs Takashi Sugiura (12/6) NOAH 5. Tetsuya Naito vs Kazuchika Okada (1/5) NJPW 6. Go Shiozaki vs Kenoh (8/10) NOAH 7. Yuka Sakazaki vs Mizuki (11/7) TJPW 9. Tetsuya Endo vs Daisuke Sasaki (11/3) DDT 10. Kazuchika Okada vs Kota Ibushi (1/4) NJPW 11. Tetsuya Naito vs Hiroshi Tanahashi (9/20) NJPW 16. Hyper Misao vs Super Sasadango Machine (11/20) TJPW

There are a few things that really stand out to me here (I omitted matches from promotions that I don’t watch because I can’t speak to those). The first is that Go is all over this list lol. He’s in four of the top ten matches!

The second thing is that wrestling fans really enjoy stories about love. This is the least surprising thing to me, because those kinds of stories are ultimately why I watch this medium, but it’s still amazing to see that reflected in lists like this. In the list above, the top ranked matches in NJPW (#1), NOAH (#2), TJPW (#7), and DDT (#9) are all matches that are explicitly about love. They’re all different stories and different matches, but love is at the core of all of them.

I giffed all four of those matches (linked above!), and wrote up a short explanation of the stories for everything except for Despy/Hiromu, who have a dynamic that is too complicated for me to attempt to summarize. But they have explicitly described their feelings for each other as “love,” and have talked about their matches in terms of “making love.” I also wrote up a post about those three NOAH, TJPW, and DDT matches specifically.

It’s amazing to me how wrestling is, on its surface, a medium that revolves around hate and competition, but beneath that, it’s really a medium about love and cooperation. There’s simply far more at stake in a match between wrestlers who love each other (or who once loved each other) than there is in a match between wrestlers who hate each other.

I was surprised but happy to see that Hyper Misao vs Super Sasadango Machine got number 16 on this list, even though that match really did a number on me emotionally. This match was incredibly nontraditional. It involved a retirement announcement, a powerpoint presentation, a Bachelorette parody, a poetry contest, a retirement match, an unretirement, and a marriage announcement.

Misao started off by announcing that she was retiring, which devastated me. But by the end of the match, she decided that she wasn’t going to retire until peace and love had returned to the world, and she also decided that she wasn’t going to wait to pursue her other dream, too, which was to get married. Her husband-to-be came out into the ring, and the company put out a marriage announcement up on the website, and everybody cheered and celebrated the announcement. Misao became the first married wrestler on the TJPW roster.

This might not seem notable, but there are very, very few Japanese women wrestlers who are married and who are still actively wrestling. Joshi wrestlers often have very short careers and early retirements, and it is common for them to quit wrestling in order to get married. Misao also started her wrestling career fairly late: she began wrestling at 25, and almost quit at 30. In addition to all of that, she loves wrestling very unconventional matches (case in point: this one), and worries that her nontraditional style isn’t what fans are interested in seeing.

So, considering all of that, I love the fact that this match is getting so much positive recognition. It was very creative and emotional, and the reception to it really demonstrates how much the fans truly love Misao, as unconventional as she may be, and how happy we all are that she decided to get married and keep wrestling. I hope this match helps pave the way for other joshi wrestlers, too.

As always with awards like these, I wish there was more women’s wrestling represented, but it’s fascinating to look back at a year like the one we just had, and think about some of the things that resonated with me, and how those same things were received by other fans.

#idk what i set out to accomplish when i started typing this but this post extremely got away from me #i spent a couple hours writing this to MAYBE get one single note on tumblr dot com instead of working on my fic ajkfghdgjk #wrassling

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miss-choco-chips · 4 years

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Teaching you, teaching me

Four times mother and son learned from and about each other, and one time Tim used his knowledge for evil good.

(Warning: Tim is older in some and younger in others, without order)

(For my babes @the-quiet-carrotcake and @animemangasoul who cheered me up when I was feeling bad, hope this makes you happy as well!

Also, hon tagged me on a ‘five word prompt generator’ thing and I lost the post, so this is my contribution, five words that inspired each part)

Animal

When Jack died, it was sad but they were prepared. He’d been in a coma for two months by then, and Janet had practically been readying both herself and her son for the outcome. Tim had been sad, but it was more because of a possible future lost (he’d never given up the hope of his father changing one day, of Jack wanting to stay and being more present in his life), than genuine sorrow. Or so had the therapist told her.

Janet hadn’t felt bad, not really. Her relationship with her late husband had been cold long before his death, ruined by years of neglecting their son and being absent of their lives, but she suffered for her son, with his too big heart, who didn’t hesitate on wasting his tears on a father that never deserved them, the second she told him the news.

Still, she held his hand through the entire funeral, surprised by the way he held his head on high. When he threw an arm over her shoulders to guide her away, after the service was over, she realized he was trying to be strong for her. The thirteen year old, heart breaking inside his small chest, was puffing it out to make himself seem bigger, more reliable, to comfort a mother that didn’t really need it.

Her beautiful, kind son.

Max’s death, a short two months after, was nothing like that.

The dog had been part of their household for nine, almost ten years now. Bought shortly after the circus tragedy, in a desperate attempt at soothing her son’s nightmares with the company of something fluffy and loveable, Max had grown up next to Tim, been there for any sad or happy moment, comforting him or sharing his joy by turns. The golden retriever had seem made specifically of love, giving all of it to the kid he’d been gifted to, and for that alone Janet had gone all out on his medical treatments, desperate to make him live as long as possible for a dog.

Still, he was gone too soon, taking with him Tim’s smile and leaving ample space for tears. Tim had stayed by his side from the moment the veterinarian informed them of his chronic condition, to the tragic end of it, petting him softly and speaking in low, comforting tones.

Max’s last act before dying had been to lick Tim’s hand, the only thing he could reach from where he was lying on the dog bed, and wag his tail once. Even at death’s door, he’d showed Tim more love than his father ever had. Just for that, Janet would Max more than she did Jack.

It also baffled her, when Tim rejected her offer to bring home another dog a week after the small funeral they held in the backyard, softly closing the book on his lap to give her his full attention.

-You love getting new pets -she felt compelled to point out, because it felt like the obvious course of action.

-I do, but I also know why you are suggesting it now, and it won’t work. You can’t make me forget my sadness over losing Max by getting me a puppy, mom.

-It’ll fill the void -she insists. Almost desperately.

(She can’t stand to hear her child cry by himself at night, his despair breaking her heart worse than anything else ever could)

-It won’t -he says, shifting in the window seat he always choose when deep in thought or in a contemplative mood-. I loved Max, not because he was a dog, but because he was Max. Even if you buy me a hundred puppies, I’ll love them because they’d be them. It won’t make me forget my pain over Max’s death.

She wanted to fight him on it, offer more, whatever it took to wipe the dim and far away look from his eyes, but he glanced up at her, so softly and fond, and she felt her tongue glueing itself to the top of her mouth.

She thought, weirdly enough, of Wayne. Of how, when his first son went away, how he took another boy in. Despite loving Jason, he never stopped missing Dick. She thinks she understands, a little, where Tim was coming from.

(Tim would throw his book at her, if he knew she was comparing the Waynes to dogs, but, if the shoe fits…)

Demonstration

They say watching was the best form of learning, and Tim took it to heart. He analyzed people, going to work, hanging out with friends, buying groceries, fighting, laughing, crying… he saw, and he learned.

The one he watched the most was his mother, though.

How she smiled oh-so-politely at parties, how she ruthlessly destroyed the person speaking to her with short, well informed facts and dirty laundry. How she did both at the same time.

He went with her to DI, and took notice of the way her hips swayed with each step whenever she needed the room’s attention on her, or made her heels click extra hard against the porcelain floor when she wanted averted eyes.

She waved sweetly to her secretary, and frostily glared at the board member sitting three seats away from her.

She clenched her teeth during a phone call with someone she hated, but kept her voice perfectly smooth, warm even, as if speaking to an old friend.

He knew he would inherit the company one day. And, small as DI had been in the past, it had flourished under Janet Drake’s tender and constant care, blooming into the powerhouse it was today, on par with Wayne Enterprises. It was intimidating, to imagine all that power, all that responsibility, on his shoulders.

Mother, Aunt Nicole, Uncle Lex, Uncle Bruce, Dick, Jay… they all said it, that Tim was too kind, too soft. He would give his hand to someone down without a thought, rather than see if they had a weapon first. Sweet, they called him, and made him blush, because he liked it. Liked that, to all that ruthless, sharp, for moments cruel people, he was a warm presence. A safe, comfortable place to lay worries to rest and smile. He liked being their sweet Timmy.

But he also despised it, because he was a gothamite, and this city ate sweet people whole for dessert, just after finishing with the foolish and naive ones that made for it’s lunch. There was no place for tender people, because that was the best kind to sink teeth into, and Gotham feeds on them. And he can’t die, because who is going to make sure mom and Nicole don’t go off the deep end? Who’s going to help Lex understand and bond with his son, with Conner? Who’s going to make sure the Waynes are getting along, when Alfred himself decides to leave them to their terrible life choices?

So he watches his mom, because she’s a prime example of someone not to be fucked with. Someone who is going to survive this wreck of a city until her drawn out, bitter end, and when that comes, she’ll go kicking and screaming and suing people to the ends of the earth. She doesn’t fear Gotham, and while sure as fuck Gotham doesn’t fear her either, it at least respects her.

So he watches, and memorizes, and adapts behaviours and gestures into his own, tries to mimic the look in her eyes that send people flinching back and laughing nervously.

And, since he’s watching, he notices that she knows. How she’d look over her shoulder, straight into his eyes, as if saying ‘pay attention, I’m only showing you this once’ before she does something particularly tricky. Demonstrates her way of surviving, and lets him learn from it to make his own.

Tim, eleven years old, so tender and soft he’s like a warm, eatable bunny in everyone’s opinion, closes his eyes and breathes in, deeply. When he opens them, the icy blue of his gaze is enough to send the closest board member stumbling back and mumbling an apology (for what, who knows) before scurrying out of the room.

Mom looks back to the rest of the board, but Tim knows (because he watches her all the time, he’s learned her to the smallest detail) that she’s smiling.

She’s proud.

Galaxy

It’s late, and she feels sick and wants nothing more than to go to sleep. She’d basically lived at the office this last week, because of some stupid mistake Jack had made with the one piece of paperwork she needed him to sign (how he manages to screw up from all the way across the world, she can’t quite understand; it surely requires talent), and feels about ready to collapse on her bed.

But, because it’s been a while since she saw him, something in her gut tells her to go look for her son. Tim’s probably asleep right now, it’s almost four a.m, but if she’s silent enough, she could sneak a quick peek through the door, make sure he’s fine, and then go to bed completely unburdened.

Except, when she gets there, she’s treated to the sight of her son, her eight year old son, getting back into his room from God knows where by climbing through his window. Which, by the way, was located on the third floor.

Janet pressed a hand to her chest, as if to make sure her heart was still beating. It was, but the speed couldn't be normal.

Was this a heart attack?

Hidden by the shadows on the hallway, she noticed how he removed his tiny sneakers, that she had completely forgot he even owned, and thrusted them under the bed. They were worn out, full of grim, obviously used often for activities like sneaking out at night and climbing the house.

Yes, she was having a heart attack. And an aneurysm. Simultaneously.

The camera around his neck, she did remember. The one gift he had asked for his last birthday, the only thing he ever begged her for. She hadn’t understand his passion for owning one, but since he never had looked so earnest (and wanting to make up for Jack missing the day) she conceded.

Was it a mistake? Watching the little boy making himself comfortable in his bed, going through the photos in the camera with the most delighted expression ever, she felt like ‘fuck yes’ wasn’t a strong enough answer.

Her first impulse, to jump inside the room and demand answers, was squashed down almost as soon as it hitted her. If she did, Tim would clam up and deny everything. Instead, she breathed in deeply and tapped her knuckles against the doorframe.

Tim almost jumped straight out of his skin, looking at her like a thief caught red handed. It’d be almost funny, if her heartbeat wasn’t still off the charts.

-Timothy, it’s quite late. Why are you awake at this hour? And with your camera? -she made a show of scanning his clothing, as if she wasn’t aware of the jeans and hoodie- Why aren’t you on your pajamas?

She could almost hear him thinking, brilliant mind kicking into overdrive as her prodigious son searched for an answer that would satisfy his mother and keep him out of trouble. Shame no such answer existed.

-I… was outside, mama -he mumbled; calling her like that, amping up the cuteness, was almost overdoing it, but she supposed the situation called for big guns- Taking pictures of the sky. I-I know it’s dark, and polluted, but I heard today was going to be extra-starry, and I thought maybe I could photograph the stars for you?

He was good, she ought to give him that. But years too young to even try to lie to her.

-I see -she answers, calmly walking closer to him. Her face betrayed nothing, and she could see how that was getting into him by the way he was fondling with the camera, almost carelessly compared to his earlier reverent touch.

He flinched when she sat by his side.

-M-mom?

-Well? -an arched eyebrow- Aren’t you going to show me? You did something incredibly dangerous, climbing down your window- no, don’t even try to lie, I saw you climbing back in. Don’t think we won’t be talking about that in the morning. But you did something truly reckless, for those pictures for me. The least I can do is see them.

Quick, trembling hands fumbled a bit with the buttons. Janet was honestly surprised when he turned the camera around, showing actual sky pictures to her. She believed it a bluff. Maybe preventive measures, in case he got caught? She was sure he was lying, because even if they were sky pictures, it wasn’t a particularly nice view, all foggy and polluted Gotham landscape.

She also noticed (though pretended not to) how those angles weren't ones he could achieve from their backyard, which upped her panic levels a few notches. Her baby had been alone, at night, away from home, in this shithole of a city.

-What a pity -she says, instead, giving back the camera, despite her burning desire to search for older pictures to get an idea of her son’s true activities-, those look like the usual sky. I would have loved to see the stars. Well, not your fault, this place is just ugly. Maybe we should move to Metropolis, I’m sure there are stars there.

-Mom…!

-Hush, now, go to sleep. We are talking about sneaking out and bedtimes tomorrow, I’m too tired right now.

She could see his anxiety (at moving away? Why did he love this place so much?), but he must have realized he’d push his luck too far if he insisted, so he kissed her cheek and let her tuck him in.

Despite her bone-deep tiredness, Janet couldn't get a single second of shut eye at all. By six a.m and truly out of ideas, she picked up the phone. Too respectful of Nicole’s boundaries to bother her at that hour (or at least, not desperate enough; had the situation been a little more urgent, she wouldn’t have hesitated to drag her to the manor kicking and screaming), she called Lex.

At the fifth ring, her old friend's voice answered- I have a conference with the president in a few hours and need rest, this better be important.

-Please, your sleep schedule is even worse than mine. I need an opinion.

-And is Al Ghul unavailable? Why are you bothering me, when you two usually ignore my advice and go to each other?

-Don’t be jealous, green isn’t your color. Lavender isn’t either, but well, I guess you can’t win all your battles…

-Bold words for someone asking for help.

-Who said anything about help? I just need a new perspective. And I’m already regretting going to you for it.

-Well, I’m awake now, so might as well. Mercy -Luthor’s voice sounded a little muffled, probably covering the receiver while he addressed his bodyguard slash buttler- I’ll be in the study, bring me coffee.

She gave him a few minutes, twirling one of her dark locks in her pointer finger. Laying in bed, unmade by all the tossing and turning she did for the last hours, she looked the picture of unrest. Luthor would laugh himself sick if he saw her now.

-Alright, I have coffee now. What happened?

-I caught Tim coming back home after sneaking out last night. It looked like he did it before, multiple times; he had specific shoes for it that he hid, and even got some backup-plan photographs to make it look like he was just in the backyard photograpying the sky.

She heard the squeaking sound his chair made as he sat straighter, floored by her confession.

-You should oil that chair. Is unbecoming for your image if it makes that kind of sounds everytime you move on it.

-Sorry, I can’t answer properly to the last part because I’m still reeling for the opening bit.

-Weak.

He ignored her (rude), muttering under his breath- Tim what? No, he wouldn’t… well, he does have Janet’s genes, so maybe…

-So -she cut him off, because if he kept that line of thinking, she would hang up and he still hadn’t given her any advice-, your thoughts?

-Get a bodyguard on him 24-7 who’ll keep him from going out at night -he answered quick as a wip, not even needing to think it through. She huffed.

-If it were that easy, I wouldn't need your opinion, you fool. This is my son we are talking about. Guilt and duty might keep him from going out, if I appeal to those, but brute force and shackles? He’s smart, smarter than you, maybe even than me. If he really wants to go, and finds no moral obstacles, he’ll find a way.

-So, do what you said, attack his conscience.

-I want to keep him safe, not emotionally destroy him.

-Forbid him from going? Like you said, he’s a dutiful son, and very well behaved.

-Which means he’ll make sure I think he’s obeying, but no guarantees he’ll actually do it. Think harder.

A few minutes went by, before the man sighed.

-You said it yourself, if he really wants to go, there’s little you can do, short of locking him up like a prince in a tower. Maybe speak to him, tell him your reasons to worry… and get him some martial arts teacher, to give him a fighting chance if he ends up disobeying anyway.

----.----

After speaking to Luthor and a quick call to Nicole for a favor (namely, get Lady Shiva to accept a work as a sensei for Tim), Janet slept for a solid nine hours. Eating, overseeing some papers and phoning her secretary to clean her schedule for the rest of the week, and she was ready to face her son after having dinner together.

They sat on Tim’s bed, and she held his hand as she spoke to him. About how cold it was, how easy it was, before he was born. How life was do this, think about that, conquer here, throw something away there. Act, consequence, simple as that. Clinical as that.

It was different, she said, when he came to her life, to her arms. Because it was warm, and difficult, and so, so scary. She’d never been so afraid of the butterfly effect before. Now, consequences of a misstep could come to bite her in twenty years, a simple act now could make Tim despise her in the future.

“I’ve never been so afraid in my life”, she told him, baring her soul for the first time in her life. “But I’ve also never been happier, and it’s all because of you.”

“I love you”, she told him, giving her heart away for the first time in her life. “And I can’t lose you.”

Those words were the hardest for her to say. She did it, anyway. Because he needed to hear them, and because they might be enough to keep him from pulling last night’s stunt again.

By the time she was done, Tim’s face was a mess of tears and snot. He hadn’t uttered a single word, holding onto her hand like a lifeline, but his smile was the brightest, prettiest thing she’s ever seen.

-I’ll be careful, Mom -he promised, between wrecked sobs. It had truly affected him, to hear her heart thoughts so bluntly. She ought to do this more often, if he treasured it so much- I.. I won’t go out at night alone, not until I’m someone not even the Rogues can mess with. I promise -he looks at his bedside table, where the camera sits, and looks regretful but determined at the same time. She knows he means it. Whatever feeling he got from sneaking out to take pictures, it evidently wasn’t as strong as what he felt now, holding his mom’s hand and shaking from such strong emotions.

-Thank you -she breathed in deeply, relaxing for the first time since the night before, letting go of his hand to hug his shoulders, pressing him into her side.

After a few seconds of silence, he weaseled out of her hold, raising a hand to halt her when she tried to follow his example and get up- Stay there a minute, Mom, I have something to show you.

With that, he sprinted to the light switch, and turned them off. But a slight, greenish glow remained in the room, and then she noticed the glow in the dark stars sticking to the ceiling.

There were… a lot of them.

Tim came back and sat once again next to her, hand quickly snatching hers.

-You said… you said you wanted to see the stars, so I made you a little galaxy. Whenever you want to see them, you can come here… You’ll also know, that way, that I’m here and not sneaking out.

Thanking people wasn’t something Janet did often. But she had said ‘I love you’ today, and that one was a first, so this wasn’t too far fetched for her.

-Thank you, Tim.

Feedback

A week after showing his mother his multiple closets full of disguises and aliases’ clothing, he was called into her office.

He had expected some questions, maybe even feedback or advice in how to perfect his portrayal of other people.

He hadn’t expected this.

-..and I know I’m not as… adapted to the ever changing times as younger people like you. Me, Lex, sometimes Nicole, we are too set on our ways, but.

She cleared her throat. Tim still wasn’t sure he wasn’t having some kind of fever dream.

-But. It’s important for you to know that I… I won’t ever judge you for something you are. I might judge your actions, like when you accept Todd’s offers for a ride downtown, or Grayson’s requests for a dance, or when you are too dumb/ kind, too kind, towards other people… But I’ll never judge you for something you didn’t choose. Like this.

In the midst of this confusing speech, Tim still couldn't quiet comprehend why mom was gesturing towards the shoes on the desk. They were simple, red heels, not even that high, belongings of Caroline Hill, one of his more successful aliases. It was a wonder how people on the Alley’s clinic hadn’t catched on that their favorite voluntary nurse slash doctor in training was a fifteen year old kid instead of the nineteen year old shy girl they thought, but it was an ego boost when they called him Miss Hill, and a boost to his medical skills when they taught him something new.

-I understand this is an… -a quick glance to the papers in her desk. Had mom… wrote this down beforehand? What…?- age of changes, yes, an age of changes for you. And you are… discovering- no, learning yourself. And I’m honored that you trusted me enough to show me that, and came to me in this… confusing times.

Tim opened his mouth to speak. Mom seemed to panic, as much as mom ever did anyways, quickly sorting through her sheets of… Information? Pointers?

-Not that I think you are confused! I trust that you know yourself the best, and I trust whatever you say to me are your honest feelings on the matter.

-I… I am confused -he managed to blurt out.

Mom winced, and searched among her papers some more. When she seemed to find whatever it was, she pulled it above the others, gave them a quick glance, and kept going- It’s okay if you don’t know it yet, too. There’s more than just… male or female. According to my research, there’s a ‘neither’, ‘both’ and ‘sometimes one, sometimes the other’ option.

Janet seemed lost at her own words. Tim could relate. He wasn’t even sure they were talking about his aliases anymore.

-What I mean to say is -she breathed in deeply, letting the papers fall to the desk and meeting his eyes head on-, I love you. You are my son, daughter, neither, both, whatever you feel, but still mine. My child, and nothing you do about your… identity or sexuality can change that. I’ll always accept you, as you are. And if anyone ever gives you trouble about it, you can always come to me and I’ll set their minds straight, or remove them from the picture.

Tim felt fondness surging in his chest, even as his mind came to an abrupt halt when he finally understood what this was all about.

-You might have to be patient with me, or explain some concepts, as I learn about this, because its all new information to me. But I promise you I’ll always love you no matter what, and I’m willing and ready to do my best to/

-Mom -he finally choked up, torn between embarrassment and profound love- I’m not… I’m a boy. I really, really appreciate all this, but you don’t need to… I mean, the shoes and clothes? It’s because I’m making aliases, so I can learn different things and meet people without it being traced back to me. Like, tools. Caroline Hill, the shoes owner, for example, is a tool to learn about medicine, and practice the way of women in case I ever need to disguise myself as one. Not… not actual representations of Tim Drake.

There was a minute of silence.

-Well, this is… unexpected.

-But -he continued, cheeks warm but hurting from smiling so hard- you are the best mom ever, and this learning you are doing? It’s great, even if not applicable to me, because it… it’s good, for people to understand and accept other people like that. It makes you a better person, and I’m really proud of you.

He got up from his seat and walked around the desk, sitting in the floor by his mom’s chair like he did when he was a toddler, and rested his head in her lap, hugging her legs, eyes going to hers with wonder and happiness. She seemed utterly relieved, both at not having fucked up their chat, and at him not being mad at the misunderstanding.

-Aliases, huh. I can help with that. We can talk about it over dinner, and I’ll give you some suggestions.

-Thanks, mom. And, hum, since you brought up the whole gender and sexuality stuff… this might be a good moment to let you know I’m bi.

Long, sharp nails scratched his scalp softly, his eyes closing almost on instinct. Her laugh ringed in his ears.

-It doesn’t matter to me, Timothy. Boy, girl… whoever you bring home, I’ll…

He smiled, expectant.

-... never accept them. No one, no matter their genders, is good enough for my son.

Ah, there she was, the mother he knew and loved.

Movie

Tim, sitting in his study, didn’t even raise his eyes from the paperwork mom had assigned him (to help make him accustomed to dealing with it for when he’ll have a more central role in DI) when the door opened and closed with a bang. He continued signing contracts with one hand, while the other patted his desk for his phone, shooting a quick text to the butler without looking.

-Can you believe it? -his intruder clamored, walking back and forth in front of Tim’s desk, hands messing through long locks of black hair.

-No -he replied, eyes still not leaving his work- It's amazing, how the stock market dropped on Wayne Enterprises. What is Bruce thinking, with the neon knights? He can’t do that and then go gallivanting around the world alone again, the stockholders won’t stand for such a big inversion without the logical follow up. I need to phone Damian about this, maybe he can ask his brothers to pose as Bruce and/

-I’m not talking about your precious Waynes!

-I know -he replied, hand finishing the last stroke of his signature, raising his eyes to his godmother just as the door opened and the butler brought a tea (and coffee) set, placing it by the little table in the corner of the study-, but I needed a few minutes to finish this before paying attention to you, Aunt. Now, a cup of tea? I’ll be having coffee, but it might not be the best for your frayed nerves.

-My nerves aren’t frayed, you little brat. Show some respect. Where is my cute little angel of a godson? -she complained, sitting as elegantly as ever in the plus couch by the little table. Tim sat opposite her.

-He hasn't slept in three days -and is being asked to meddle into adult’s problems, but he didn’t voice that part, merely mixing ingredients in the steaming cup-, It’s natural to be bitter. Now, tea?

She didn’t answer, but accepted the offered drink, already prepared to her tastes perfectly. Despite her anger, she smiled. Two sugars, no milk, a little lemon, the smallest hint of vodka. Her godson knew her so well.

A few seconds went by as Tim readied his own coffee and downed half. The butler topped the cup for him, and then left just as quietly as he had came.

-Now, want to tell me what has you so mad?

He already knew, but playing innocent was one of his strengths. Bruce still blamed Dick for the incident on the music room of the manor, despite the fact that Tim had been there at the moment and his eldest far away on a secret mission civilian Tim wasn't supposed to know about. That was the true power of a goodie two shoes.

-Your mother, she… You know we were planning on going to the movies today, and she…!

-Ah -he nodded, as if only catching up then- She went with Dana, right?

Nicole gritted her teeth, downing her cup in one long glup to calm herself. Tim merely took the teapot and filled it again.

-Janet doesn’t even like the movies! She hates being around other people. The only reason she goes is to humor me, and now… That woman…

-Dana is a good person -he intervened, because he genuinely liked her. Dana Winters had been in charge of taking care of his comatose dad until his death, and they had spent some time together during his visits to Jack. A lot of his alias Caroline Hill had been based on her. And right now, she...

-Too good -Nicole muttered, which Tim suspects, was the root of the problem.

-Shouldn't you be glad? -he asked, head tilted in his best show of naivety- That mom is trying to get someone kind to be by her side? Dad wasn’t… dad wasn’t bad, but he wasn’t as nice to mom as he could have been. I, for one, want her to be happy.

-Janet doesn’t do nice.

It took everything in him to not answer ‘well, she might tonight’, because that would ruin his innocent image, and he was afraid Nicole might actually stab Dana. Really, refraining himself like that was almost painful. Mom better appreciate his sacrifice.

-The nicest thing she could ever stand was you -she continued, ignorant to her godson’s internal struggle-, and you are her baby.

-I’m fifteen -he felt compelled to inform her, but was promptly shushed.

-To us, you never grew past your chubby stage.

-I didn’t have a chubby stage, and you can’t prove otherwise -he’d know. He was the one who got rid of the evidence.

-Back to the point… Dana is no good fit for your mom. She’d end up tearing off her own hair in frustration in less than a month after countless discussions of morality and ‘doing the right thing’. She can barely resist when it’s you doing the nagging and, again, you are the exception to all of Janet’s rules.

Tim hummed, thinking distractedly how someone as smart as Nicole couldn’t see that Dana’s good heart wasn’t the problem here. Oh well, he needed to be a little more direct.

-And who do you think would be a good match for mom? Someone distant, like dad? Or easily manipulated?

A growling almost came out of Nicole’s mouth. Tim refilled his coffee cup again.

-Neither… those make for good tools, but not partners. Janet needs someone who understands her, who couldn’t judge, who likes her as rotten and twisted as she is.

Should he protest? This was his mother they were talking about. Not that she was wrong, but… still.

Deciding against it, because he needed to get back to work and this conversation was already exhausting, he nodded- Mm, but plenty of people in high society adore her...

-Those fools either don’t know of her true nature, or are too scared of it. None would make for a good life companion.

-So, someone who isn’t scared of her, knows her inside out, isn’t morally upright…

-They should also have similar objectives in life -Nicole interjected, empty cup clattering against the plater when she placed it there-, otherwise Janet might feel the need to remove them to keep them off her way.

-Objectives, like…?

-Staying on top of the food chain of the corporate world, for example. And keeping loved ones safe. Like you, for her.

“And Damian, for you”, he didn’t say. Finally, they seemed to be reaching the end of the discussion. Just a few more lines...

-And they should be strong -she kept on, digging her own grave for Tim’s convenience-, because Janet is, too, which means her enemies are as well, and she needs someone to have her back if she ever needs it.

-I don’t think -he wondered, finger tapping his chin in childlike confusion- that such a person exists. Someone as morally compromised as mom, strong enough to help her achieve her objectives, who knows her and loves her. I never met someone like that… I mean, besides you.

Time seemed to stop for Nicole, who dropped the scon she had halfway through her mouth. Tim knew what having a romantic realization felt like, so he let her deal with it while he finished his coffee. After a few minutes letting her stew, he force a look of curiosity and concern on his face- Aunt Nicole? Are you alright? You went really quiet…

Nicole wasn’t sitting in front of him any longer. Okay, he’ll forgive the rudeness, in the spirit of love and all that. Picking up his phone, he sent Dana a quick text, warning her to make herself scarce.

“Everything going according to plan on my end”

“Ah, okay. I’ll thank Janet for accompanying me, and ask her to just be friends. Then I’ll catch a taxi :) “

“Yeah, let me know once you are back on your house, it’s getting pretty late”

“Aw, you’re such a gentleman. Me and your mom spent all afternoon talking about you, you know. And Nicole”

“You buttered her up to the idea?”

“She seemed to be considering ending this ‘date’ early as well to go looking for her, so I’m guessing I did ;) “

“Thank you again, Dana “

“Make sure they invite me to the wedding, and we’re even!”

“If they don’t elope, that’s it”

“They won’t. That would mean missing the chance to make Uncle Lex miserable by asking him to plan the whole ceremony”

Smiling despite himself, he put his coffee cup down and went back to his desk. Better to get work out of the way before Mom and Nicole came back and informed him of the good news.

Shocked face number three might do.

#Tim Drake #janet drake #Janet Drake au #Nicole Al Ghul (oc)#My writing #lex luthor #dana winters #dana is not involved in the way you'd expect #sexuality and gender identity discussed #janet tries y'all #janet drake is a good mom #misunderstandings #jack dies but we care more about the dog's death tbh

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danfanciesphil · 6 years

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Hey Ellen 💕 I’m a new fic writer and i need some tips, whenever i write a fic i write dan and phil and when i read it back i can barely recognise them sjsjhdbdbdbbd or either they are too similar to each other (i can write i promise) sooo have u got any advice. Also how in the heck do I write smut

Hey friend!

To begin with, I suggest checking my writing tips tag! there are some lengthy posts there with hints and tips for how to characterise DnP, how to create a compelling story, how to plot etc etc.

BUT ladies and gentlemen I realise I have never made a post about smut writing, and I am so pumped. Get ready gang, for here are Ellen’s smut writing tricks lmao:

(nsfw.......... obviously)

1. TENSION

This is my most important tip. It’s a personal thing for sure, but I absolutely think that no matter how good the smut is, it’s nothing without the build-up. Tension can come in a variety of formats, but to get really good smut, I think the best kinds are: prolonged waiting (e.g. they’re at a fancy party and are salivating over each other in tuxes, but can’t fuck until they get home), jealousy, excessive teasing/flirting, or doing it in secret. These added elements, usually put in prior to the actual smut scene, give the reader context, make them wait, anticipate, and be extra satisfied with the final result.

2. DON’T BE VULGAR

Just try and avoid excessive use of the words ‘cock’, ‘ass’, ‘cum’ etc. This is not to say it can’t be dirty, but there are less jarring ways to phrase certain actions. Using a vulgar phrase can pull a reader out of the scene momentarily, which for smut is the opposite of what you want! Smut scenes are meant to be an immersive experience - their purpose is literally just to arouse/thrill the reader. So by all means have Dan riling around on the floor with his balls tied and a gag in his mouth, but maybe refrain from saying it so bluntly.

3. STOP WORRYING ABOUT THEIR HANDS

One of the most irritating things about m/m or w/w smut scenes in fanfiction, is trying to work out, as a reader, what position they’re in now, and if they’re on the bed yet, or if their clothes are off, or if that vibrator is still stuck in Phil’s- A rule that I live by in every day writing is TRUST YOUR READER. It’s my all time favourite rule. Stop over-describing everything. Your reader is intelligent. They have (most likely) read smut scenes before. You do not need to say where everything is every sentence. Not sure how they’re getting from pressed up against the wall to the sex swing on the other side of the dungeon?? Just skip it! You are the omniscient puppet master, you don’t need to justify how it happens, you just need to write about it. I’ll try to give you an example:

Bad: Dan kisses Phil hard and slimily, pushing him with lots of force up against the hood of his green, metallic car. “I’m going to bite you now,” Dan growls sexily, his voice rough and grating. Then he grins, revealing a long line of yellowed fangs. He strips Phil of his red Buffy the Vampire Slayer t-shirt and folds it up, then lays it on the floor next to Phil’s converses, which he put there earlier. Then he opens Phil’s Calvin Klein jeans, revealing his blue boxer shorts. He pulls them off one by one, folds them up too, then slips his right claw under Phil’s left thigh and pushes it upwards. He leans in, eyes blinking two sets of lids, and with his left hand, runs a long nail over Phil’s milky skin. “Let’s move to my paddling pool,” Dan says, then takes Phil by his left hand and helps him off the hood. Phil waddles after him, boxers caught around his ankles as they make their way over to the pool. “So sunny today,” Phil comments - the walk is a lot longer than expected. Dan nods. “Yeah it’s been balmy. Nearly there now.”

Good: Dan kisses Phil hard, pushing him up against the hood of his car. “I’m going to bite you now,” Dan growls, then grins, revealing a long line of yellowed fangs. He strips Phil of his t-shirt, then his jeans, breathing heavily. His claw slips under Phil’s thigh and pushes it upwards. Dan leans in, eyes blinking two sets of lids, and runs a long nail over Phil’s skin.Phil sucks in a breath, delirious from Dan’s venom in his blood. They’re in a paddling pool now, and Dan is thrashing about in the shallow water above him. Phil can’t wait to feel those fangs pierce his wet skin.

Basically, I just took lots of unnecessary description out, which leaves a much clearer plot. You see how I just jumped them from the car to the pool? Nothing is lost by the reader not knowing exactly how they got there. It’s still gonna work, just trust the reader!

4. WATCH PORN

Might seem obvious, but it helps! Also, read lots of smut from other phanfic writers. It doesn’t hurt to get ideas! Just don’t actually steal. And when watching porn, try and find some stuff that you personally find hot, but also stuff that you could totally see happening in the scenario you’re writing. Look at how a twenty-something man might actually give an effective blowjob. What positions could a thirty-something man realistically get into? What kinds of activities might a couple that have been together for ten years do in bed? Would your versions of Dan and Phil be comfortable around each other, and if so, would they be open to kinkier activities such as role-play, BDSM etc? Just do some research, get some ideas!

5. ACT IT OUT

I’m blushing but yeah. Several of my followers have informed me that they use blowjob techniques from Birthday Sex IRL. While this is not something I can do (i am a girl and have a girlfriend), I heartily encourage you to see if certain things are possible sexually before attempting to describe them. For a certain scene in L’Histoire Française, I specifically remember leaning against my door and having my girlfriend kneel in front of me (while clothed you pervs) to see if Phil’s arms would be able to reach certain areas on Dan’s body. Feel free to laugh at this ridiculous image.

6. CHARACTERISE

A pet peeve of mine is when I’m reading a smut scene, and Dan and Phil just say something out of the blue that is just so ridiculous I can’t read on. A specific example of this is overuse of the word ‘daddy’. If you explain the usage, and you can prove to me with your writing and build up that this might be said on occasion, go for it. (Shout out to my fic Daddy Kink) But even if they were calling each other daddy, it wouldn’t be every fucking three seconds. Likewise with other weird pet names (bear, darling, love, baby, etc.) In moderation I suppose you can get away with it. But your best bet is to actually just lie down, close your eyes and imagine your scene. Imagine Dan with his awkward humour defense mechanisms and hang-ups about his body. What might he actually say if he was about to sit on Phil’s face? Would he really say “oh, daddy, yes, i’m a naughty boy!!”, or would he say something more like: “please, for the love of god, tell me if you suffocate. im not explaining to your grieving mother that you died with your face buried in my ass.”

7. IF IT TURNS YOU ON, IT WILL PROBABLY TURN THEM ON

This is pretty self explanatory. Think of what you’d like to read in a smut scene. Think of things that you haven’t read anywhere else, that you think a lot of people would be excited to read. Wrote a long scene about quadruple tentacle penetration that you’re unsure whether to post? If it turns you on when you read it back, if it’s well-written, convincing, and you followed the other tips above, in all likelihood there are gonna be some freaks out there on your wavelength that will fucking love it.

That’s it! Thanks for asking, I hope this helps. Love to all you aspiring smut artists, good luck and keep porning.

#i had such fun writing this omg #i made myself laugh a lot #smut tips #writing tips #phanfiction #anon #ellen answers

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antikripkean · 7 years

Text

Post #101 + Tumblr Recap

I had intended for this to be my 100th post, but I changed my plans due to unexpected circumstances. The following will be a very Tumblr-esque thing: a rant about my feelings.

TW/Disclaimers: Long; potentially boring; lots of rambling. Might not be very organized. There may be cringe. This is not logically focused and is meant to describe subjective matters. The purpose of this is for me to vent and make my feelings available to anyone curious. It is not meant to offend or argue a point. People do not have to cater to the feelings presented below.

History

I have a lot to say about my Tumblr experience so far, and I might as well start with the creation of this blog. I first started using Tumblr on a separate account back when I was less interested in politics and had yet to discover the wonders of people like Milo Yiannopoulos and Blaire White. (Though I was already a fan of Martin Shkreli.) At that time, I thought more about other topics such as anime, books, and Undertale. All of these things still interest me; I doubt that will change anytime soon. Still, I had expected to devote most of my blogging to the world of fandom.

That did not go as expected. I wasn’t very active on that blog for a number of reasons; real life obligations, lack of familiarity with formatting, posts getting deleted when I tried to post on the mobile app without saving them, and being a perfectionist with tagging. Whenever I began a post, I wanted to make sure I got everything just right and would sometimes stare at a few sentences for quite a long time before uploading them, and to my dismay, they would sometimes get deleted. Also, I was worried about art theft; I wasn’t (and still am not) sure whether using existing artwork or a photo off the internet for a background or avatar constituted art theft. I didn't know what sort of feel I wanted for my blog either, so I was unsure about what to draw and which colors I should use. And I had no idea what to write for my blog title and description.

Other things which irrationally troubled me were liking, reblogging, and following people. I think these are supposed to be some of the most enjoyable parts of Tumblr, yet they all made me somewhat stressed. I wasn’t sure how much I should like a post before I “like” it since there doesn’t seem to be a way to sort “liked” posts. I wondered if I should “like” every post which gave me a positive mental reaction or only the ones which I considered personally meaningful. I doubt it matters to most people, but I wanted a consistent standard for myself. As for reblogging, I didn’t want to do it very often since I wanted my blog to be almost exclusively my own content. With regards to following people, I wasn’t sure whether to follow anyone whose content I liked or only people who almost exclusively posted content that interested me. I also wasn’t sure whether I was socially obligated to follow Tumblrs from people I knew in real life if their content generally wasn’t about topics I enjoyed. I’m still not very sure of these things and probably still would not be if someone decided to talk to me about it. I’m the type who constantly thinks of counterarguments, so I’d probably get stressed holding them in or annoy whoever would try to help me.

Another major thing was the social aspect. I’m not particularly social in real life and was aware that I could find many people who share my fandom-related interests on Tumblr. And there are a lot of fandom people here, but since I barely liked, reblogged, or followed people, I wasn’t particularly noticeable. People had little incentive to interact with me as well since I barely had any posts, and my Tumblr wasn’t particularly good looking. I have low social initiative, so I wouldn’t try to initiate conversation as well.

So what changed?

Well, I was gradually becoming more interested in politics, social justice, and futurism. I was curious about the state of the world and the direction it was going. I always loved exploring moral issues in fiction and had increasingly thought about the ones in reality as well. Plus I love science and liked thinking of how it would develop in the future; I thought it important that society prepare for the effects of new technology.

And then there’s feminism. Feminism wasn’t even the social issue which interested me the most, but it was one of the ones (along with transgenderism) which raised the most questions. I used to think of feminism as a good thing and associated it with women becoming able to do things such as vote, work, and be educated. And as a child, I was sometimes bullied for being a girl with more traditionally masculine interests. I thought feminism not only made significant social changes for the rights of women but also would support girls like me who were being treated unfairly for not conforming to a limited gender role.

Over time, I read more about feminism on the internet and discovered that some people thought it was a bad thing. This confused me; how could people not believe women deserve equal rights? Were people really that sexist? I looked into this antifeminism movement a bit more. Not enough to discover its prominent leaders just yet, but to see what the basic arguments against it were.

What I learned was that many people who are against feminism believe that women have equal rights already and that feminism teaches women that they are inherently victimized by society and should blame men. The antifeminists saying those things no longer appeared sexist to me, but I was still confused. I hadn’t heard from feminists that I was doomed to be a victim because I was a woman or that I should hate men. The only thing I saw wrong with feminism was that some feminists believed all feminists should be pro-choice.

I did some more research, and I found that some feminists do say such things. The feminist movement no longer seemed as equal as I thought. At that point, I still thought such feminists were in the minority and that feminism was still needed to help women get rights such as educational opportunities and having a choice in their spouse elsewhere in the world where there is less gender equality.

I ended up taking two classes which heavily involved feminism and other areas of social justice. One of them was one of the best classes I’ve ever taken; the other one, not so much. I began to empathize with the antifeminist movement even more. I started planning a Tumblr essay analyzing women who don’t need feminism and explaining how both antifeminists and feminists bring up good points and should try to effectively communicate with each other.

I came across a website called Everyday Feminism during this, probably when I was researching trans people. I was very skeptical about the concept, and I wanted to see if my mind could be changed. After watching one of the videos, I found a response video and decided to watch it as well. Thus I discovered Blaire White, who did change my mind with her explanation of gender dysphoria. I realized I had misunderstood what it was previously. I watched more of her videos, which got me interested in other people such as Milo Yiannopoulos and Shoe0nhead. I was red pilled, and I felt like a whole new world of different perspectives and ideas had opened up to me.

I felt compelled to write about these topics, but I thought my current blog wouldn’t be the best place to do so. People might not want to look at my fandom material if they didn’t agree with my political content. I thought the solution would be to create a side blog. And so I did.

This new blog was titled AntiKripkean, named after my commitment against Kripkean dogmatism. (Kripkean dogmatism is when people dismiss anything contrary to their view due to it being contrary in and of itself.) I drew a background tiled with Bill Cipher (to represent my love of fandoms and my appreciation for trollish characters in both fiction and reality), the female symbol (indicating I support equality for women and am open to discussing feminism and antifeminism), Pepe the frog (as a tribute to the positivity I felt in my life after discovering the anti-SJW movement), and hearts (since I also value compassion, empathy, love, and peace). This background was meant to indicate the bizarre mix of ideas floating around in my head and to celebrate a diversity of subject matters. I drew a peach with inverted colors to make it look somewhat frozen, indicating my support for free speech.

Unfortunately, I realized that side blogs lack some of the features present in main blogs. I didn’t want my blogs associated with one another, and I found that a side blog can’t follow or like. I ended up making a new main blog with the same background, name, and avatar then reposting all the content from the original AntiKripkean. Thankfully, I only had ten posts. Thus this blog was created.

General Feelings

My Tumblr experience so far is not quite what I thought it would be. One big difference is that I thought I would do a lot more essay-type posts. I have a few longish ones, but a large portion of my original content is Martin Shkreli fanart and Milo gifs. There could be many possible reasons for this. One is that I like producing that sort of content, especially considering there is barely any available. I suspect that I might not feel as motivated to draw or make gifs as often if there were plenty of them already; I’d probably be staring at them for an inordinate amount of time instead. Another possible reason is that essays take more planning on my behalf, and I often will reread the same few sentences over and over again way too many times. I would like to do more essay posts, but I plan to continue making fanart and gifs as well, perhaps of other people such as Blaire White and Laci Green as well.

Currently, I’m the most proud of this particular drawing of Martin Shkreli. My digital art skills have been improving. While it doesn’t have the most notes out of all my posts, In the last few days, it’s become my most popular post (thanks, haters), and I’m proud of that since I worked very hard on it, and I consider it my best work on this site so far. I think I did well with the shading and colors. I also think I did a good job capturing how biased the media is against him. I still can’t draw hands well, though... ^^;

On the topic of people I draw, it still surprises me to see my Tumblr pop up as one of the top search results on this site for both Martin Shkreli and Milo Yiannopoulos. I know I feel very positively about both of them, but to see it acknowledged on the internet on a major website still feels surreal. I suppose it makes sense considering that most people on Tumblr think negatively about both of these people, yet I didn’t expect myself or my efforts to support them to be significant enough to warrant my placement in the search results. I feel happy that my content is prominent for others interested in these people and proud of myself for making it this far, yet I also wish that there were other people producing similar content. I’ve enjoyed having fandoms constantly producing content for books and anime, yet with Martin and Milo, I’ve been having to make the content for myself and anyone else interested. And I really like making it, though it’s a bit lonely when almost no one else on Tumblr is doing it as well.

I have generally felt good on Tumblr, though. I would like to thank my sister, @rightwingbarbie, @brightsapphireseas, and my chatroom frriends with accounts here (you know who you are) for making me feel welcome here; I appreciate all of you very much. I didn’t expect to be treated with such kindness here, and I’m truly grateful for you. Thank you to my followers as well; you’re also amazing. ♥

People haven’t been getting upset in the way I’d expect, either. I thought that people would respond negatively to me almost as soon as I’d post content about controversial figures, yet it actually took a bit longer. I woke up one day to a bunch of notes after barely getting any before, and I was very surprised to have gotten what seemed to me like a lot of attention. (I’m aware it isn’t a lot, but in comparison to what I had gotten previously.) I was more upset about people speaking negatively of Martin Shkreli and Milo Yiannopoulos than people insulting me; I’m sick of lies about them being spread around all over the place. Still, it was somewhat amusing that people could get so upset over some drawings. And some people claimed to want me to die, which I’m not quite sure how to feel about. I’m cynically amused by the hypocrisy and double standards with regards to internet etiquette, but I’m a bit sad that people can be so close-minded. A lot of the people critical of me might be generally good people, and I don’t want to assume that anyone who disagrees with me, even if they do so rudely, is automatically a bad person. (I also want to add that I don’t draw controversial people to trigger SJWs; I do so to show my support for them. If people get triggered, so be it.)

I’m willing to talk to people even if they disagree with me, and I welcome ask box content. :)

The Past Few Days

When I realized that I had hit 99 posts, I began writing what you see here: a summary of my Tumblr experience and my ideas for the future of this blog. Due to an unexpected event a few days ago, there was a change of plans. I decided to dedicate my 100th post to Martin Shkreli instead. I can and will write a lot more about my feelings for what happened, but to stick with the theme of this post, this will be a recap of how it’s affected me on Tumblr.

I spent a few hours writing and editing Post #100, and Tumblr reacted to my previous posts more quickly than I can type. My art posts, or my favorite one in particular, were flooded with notes. (On the bright side, that post became the one with the most notes, which is what I’d wanted.) Many of the responses were negative, both towards Martin and myself.

Since Martin’s arrest, I’d get so many notes. My screen would light up with notifications all day. While most people would probably be happy about getting a lot of notes, my feelings were more complex.

The main thing was that I felt overwhelmed. I want and plan to respond to many of the comments and reblogs I’ve received, but there were so many to keep track of. I also wanted to finish my tribute to Martin and this post so they could respectively be Post #100 and Post #101. There are many claims I want to address. At least by the time this gets out I can begin to respond.

I’m aware that I could feel less overwhelmed by turning off my notifications, but I want to be fully aware of the impact of my actions and not cut myself off from knowing the consequences. Even if it can get distracting and overwhelming, I want to experience it regardless of whether I like it.

Also, it saddens me when people insult Martin. Whether or not it bothers him, to me, it’s an indication of the malice and ignorance present in society. I don’t think Martin is perfect and some may find him unlikable, yet almost all the criticism I see for him involves double standards or is founded on misleading premises and/or blatant lies. If people are to hate him, they should at least have a proper understanding of why. Still, an understanding of him could lead to them becoming fans, like it did in my case.

I’m not as bothered when people insult me. It doesn’t make me feel worthless or guilty; in fact, it strengthens my resolve. Some people have criticized me respectfully, but many of the negative comments are rife with profanity and lacking in logic. This is likely because they were posted with the intent of expressing negative emotions, not starting a dialogue or persuading me to change my mind. I respect people’s freedom of speech to do this, but it only goes to show that they prioritize their own feelings and degrading mine over rational discourse. And I’m not saying all of my critics are like this, but the more rational replies are unfortunately limited. It makes them as a whole seem rather unkind and lacking in the critical thinking department, and it’s giving me delusions of grandeur. I’ve been reminding myself that I’ve messed up in the past as well, and these people might be kind and intelligent in other areas of life.

I started looking through my reblogs after finishing Post #100 so I could determine who to respond to. While reading the responses and tags, I also noticed other things on people’s blogs. I feel like many of the people don’t quite see what they’re doing. I recall some of them specifically stating in their descriptions that they are nice and want to help others. This leads me to think that they might generally be (or at least imagine themselves to be) this way, yet they perceive me as a negative being undeserving of this component of their personalities. Some of them share things in common with me such as being demisexual, loving animals, and being fascinated by MBTI. Many of them are also fandom people. As a fan myself, I’m a bit disappointed by their behavior. While I recognize that liking something doesn’t mean one has to agree with or like everything about it, fandoms have influenced me to see people as deserving of respect, to look beyond public opinion, and to try to empathize with and understand others. It seems kind of wrong to me that Undertale fans won’t show mercy (and yes, I know there’s a genocide route), Game of Thrones fans disregard individual complexity, and FMA fans act as if people they don’t like have no value. Yet I try to see them as people, not just hateful text on a screen. But some can be very cruel.

There have even been threats and incitement of violence towards Martin himself. I doubt any of the people doing this pose a real danger, but this still goes against Tumblr’s community guidelines. I’m not referring to the people who say he has a punchable face or that they wouldn’t mind if (or even hope that) harm befalls him. I’m talking about people who say they will harm Martin or are requesting that others do so. I’m pondering whether I should report these people; ironically, the main things holding me back are the words of the people they hate. I want to give these people the mercy that Martin did not receive, and Milo has said that people should not have their lives destroyed over jokes, and I think these threats may have been intended as jokes. (Though Milo did say that threats and inciting violence do not constitute free speech.) I’m not sure what the consequences would be for these people if I reported them, and I don’t want them to be banned from Tumblr, subjected to legal investigation, or thrown in jail. I think they should have the opportunity to learn from their mistakes, and I’m not sure how Tumblr would handle the situation.

People have also been telling me to kill myself. I’m thankfully not suicidal, but if I were, I wonder how these people would feel and what would happen to them if I really did take their suggestion. I want to respect their freedom of speech, but I really don’t like that they’re saying this because they may get in the habit of it (if they aren’t already) and end up telling it to someone who’d actually do it. I don’t know whether this is covered under freedom of speech, but it’s an awful thing to say. Words have consequences. And for anyone reading this, please know that your life matters. If someone tells you to kill yourself, don’t do it; you are precious, and your life has meaning. And on a side note, Martin mentioned before that he wanted to develop a drug to treat suicidality. So not only are people urging me to commit suicide; they are taking a stand against someone who wants to help suicidal people.

I haven’t received anywhere near as much negativity as others, yet for me, it appeared to be a lot in comparison to my previous experiences on the internet. I was fully aware that this could happen, though. I’m not quite sure if what’s happening to me constitutes harassment; I haven’t blocked anyone no matter what they’ve said to me. (Yet some have left me hateful messages and blocked ME when I didn’t even say anything to them.) While I dislike what people are saying, I want to be aware of it, and I respect their freedom to say it. I also want to be able to have respectful discussions with those who are willing.

Future Content

I really think I should make a FAQ page, disclaimer list, an about me page, and a tag index. That may be useful to some people.

I also will be drawing more fanart and making more gifs, but for now, I plan to do longer text posts, with evidence to support my viewpoints. It will probably take a while to both write these posts and do my research, but I think it would be more useful if I produced more intellectual content.

I’d also like to cover more topics including but not limited to the environment, the abortion debate, feminism, futurism, racism, my personal experiences with political discussion, mental health, parallels and differences between fiction and reality, representation in fiction, cultural appropriation, reviews and responses to other content, SJWs, trolling, and the importance of lingual clarity. And I side with liberals on some issues and conservatives on others, so I plan to discuss my Leftist opinions as well. Yet for now, expect a lot more posts about Milo and Martin.

I’m not quite sure how to end this, but I hope my presence on Tumblr can benefit others as well as myself. I’d like to be able to start some discussion about various issues and help people who need advice. I look forward to posting more content.

And thanks to anyone who read through this entire mess of a post. ♥

#tumblr #ramblings #personal #very long #essay #rant #I honestly doubt many people will read this mess

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divine-identite · 7 years

Text

RULES. repost, don’t reblog. tag ten. TAGGED. @thegreatunxter thank you Lari :) TAGGING. anyone else who wants to do this.

BASICS.

FULL NAME. Paddra-Ballad Caius, Caius Ballad NICKNAME. none AGE. 2,000+ BIRTHDAY. December 27th ♑ Capricorn ♑ (Capricorn Sun / Scorpio moon) ETHNIC GROUP. Indigenous/Aborginals/Paddran NATIONALITY. Pulsian LANGUAGE / S. canon: Pulsian ;New World: French, Italian, Russian God of Death: Nigh-omniscience SEXUAL ORIENTATION. Heterosexual ROMANTIC ORIENTATION. Demiromantic RELATIONSHIP STATUS. Single (canon) / in a relationship (AU) CLASS. N/A HOME TOWN / AREA. Paddra CURRENT HOME. The New Unseen Realm PROFESSION. Seeress’s Guardian, God of Death

PHYSICAL.

HAIR. Long purple hair, goes down to her mid-back. Smooth with light purple tufts of hair. EYES. a vivid purple, almond-shaped. His eyes are normally sharp, stern, and intense usually some moments, which may intimidate some people who see them NOSE. Wide bridge but slender nostrils it's also tall and straight FACE. His face is kinda of square, prominent, strong jaw, open forehead, and subtle high cheekbones. LIPS. Full lips, the bottom is a bit more full COMPLEXION. tanned - earth tones mostly, smooth, and soft with some weathering. BLEMISHES. He has freckles when looked upon closely have lightened up over the years but are distinguishable under a keen eye SCARS. A few but they have faded possible or just non-existent due to the nature of the heart of chaos. TATTOOS. N/A HEIGHT. 6′4″ WEIGHT. 197 lbs BUILD. Athletic, slender FEATURES. My seem imposing, vivid purple hair ALLERGIES. N/A USUAL HAIR STYLE. Usually let down, held in place by his headband a large sweeping bang from the left. USUAL FACE LOOK. Stern, unmoved and confident, even seen smirking arrogantly. While it’s not rare nor is it a common occurence, her features tends to soften up when he’s around people such as Yeul USUAL CLOTHING. Armour made by Etro reverence of Bahamut

PSYCHOLOGY.

FEAR / S. Failure, in the past many perhaps not being personal worth. ASPIRATION / S. To end his and her suffering and free themselves from this accursed torment given by the Goddess Etro POSITIVE TRAITS. Determined, Persistent, Dutiful, Practical, Wise, NEGATIVE TRAITS. Apathetic/Callous, Dogged, Blunt, Manipulative, Merciless, Cruel, Nonsense, Dogged MBTI. LOGISTICIAN (ISTJ-A) ZODIAC. Capricorn TEMPEREMENT. Phlegmatic/ Choleric SOUL TYPE / S. Hunter/ Caregiver ANIMALS. Sable VICE HABIT / S. N/A FAITH. Agnostic GHOSTS? Yes AFTERLIFE? Yes REINCARNATION? He has none ALIENS? No. POLITICAL ALIGNMENT. N/A ECONOMIC PREFERENCE. N/A SOCIOPOLITICAL POSITION. EDUCATION LEVEL. Home-schooled

FAMILY.

FATHER. N/A MOTHER. N/A SIBLINGS. N/A EXTENDED FAMILY. N/A NAME MEANING / S. Caius is classical and serious but also has a simple, joyful quality. There was a third century pope named Caius, as well as an early Christian writer, several Shakespearean characters, and a Twilight vampire. We would pronounce the name to rhyme with eye-us though at Cambridge University in England, where it's the name of a college, it's pronounced keys. Caius is currently Number 164 on Nameberry.

HISTORICAL CONNECTION ? N/A

FAVOURITES.

BOOK. N/A MOVIE. N/A 5 SONGS. “ Heavy” - Florence + The Machine, “Caius Theme” - Final Fantasy XIII-2 “Oblivion“ - Bastille Sun and Steel” - Audiomachine “ Dawn ” - Skyrim DEITY. N/A HOLIDAY. N/A MONTH. November, December SEASON. Fall, Winter PLACE. Paddra WEATHER. Fair temperatures, little humidity, weather with slight forecast SOUND. Rainfall, night-time cricket ambience, the night, THE QUIET SCENT / S. like night, like fresh after a rain storm night. Coupled with a bit of sea water, jasmine, metal and earthy tones. TASTE / S. Salt, Honey FEEL / S. Leather, animal hide, scales ANIMAL / S. Bahamut NUMBER. N/A COLOUR. Green

EXTRA.

TALENTS. Piano, creating metal sculpture art BAD AT. Critical, Self-Expressing, Fastidious, Judgemental, Conservative, Apathetic TURN ONS. An interesting personality, a good rival, determination, passion, being vigilant and perhaps just someone battling the odds. TURN OFFS. Ignorance, constant nonsense, terrible personality, invading personal space, Weakness HOBBIES. Reading, taking long walks, training, stargazing TROPES. Papa Wolf: Seriously, do not mess with Yeul when he's around. That includes you, universe and you too, Etro. AESTHETIC TAGS. Moon, rain, mountains, forests, charcoal, feathers, leather, time, Fog GPOY QUOTES. “ Forever isn’t bright; it isn’t like that. Forever is cold and hard and final. .” - Deathless, Catherynne M. Valente

FC INFO.

MAIN FC / S. N/A ALT FC / S. N/A OLDER FC / S. N/A YOUNGER FC / S. N/A VOICE CLAIM / S. Liam’ O Bren

MUN QUESTIONS.

Q1. if you could write your character your way in their own movie, what would it be called, what style would it be filmed in, and what would it be about? A1. Walk to Oblvion - that explores the boundaries of morality between what is typically good and evil, and understand what is truly human in character in our core. I think perhaps a western movie or a high fantasy movie which Caius cause’s destruction for a greater purpose.

Q2. what would their soundtrack / score sound like? A2. Oh, boy I say Dawn - Jeremy Soule, Skyrim.

Q3. why did you start writing this character? A3. From long story to short, it started when I was in yoga class when Book 4 was still airing. My muse for her came out of nowhere and I told myself the feeling is going to go away, but that night…I ended up making a blog for her. And here I am now.

Q4. what first attracted you to this character? A4. Oh boy, this is a long explanation you’re demanding from me lol but I’ll bite. Well to star,t I picked up Caius out of curiosity and perhaps chance, I originally wanted to do Noctis - but Tumblr was so oversaturated with Noctis that I didn't want to be a clone. So, I had to go through the “fishing for a muse” phase. I roleplayed a bit as Riku from KH , Kefka from FF6 and thus Caius. Now I chose Caius because from what I was told usually people pick him up and drop him like a dime - it sounded like a role I could take to see how it went since he was my first villain (at that point was a bit insecure at the time ) At first, I was unsure if I would be good with him when I went on a massive study on him, he was this compelling villain and seem always to have a recognisable appearance which i was worried I would not master or convey into my other rps. Later, I learned he was the most human of all final fantasy characters out there; with him wanting to destroy time for just one person, which other final fantasy 13 character such as Lightning, Fang wanted cocoon destroyed just to save those they loved and that kind of drew in more the more I realised it; the whole grey spectrum and his personality I could just connect with it off the bat ( I don’t know something about stoic attitude that always kinda makes me want to roleplay them so well and it always works for me, funny as it was since I used to RP Cloud Strife back on myspace). Though I think me and Caius have many differences we do have many similarities which made me fancy the character and got me to portray him to this level where. It’s perhaps easy to know So, I guess you can say I roleplayed him as a mistake?

Q5. describe the biggest thing you dislike about your muse. A5. Being cryptic and generally just being callous so many things that some people would be, pretty much an asshole to people and his unfiltered honesty. Not being expressive

Q6. what do you have in common with your muse? A6. quite blunt lol and down to earth actually, i guess being practical at least.

Q7. how does your muse feel about you? A7. cool dood just needs to lighten the fuck up sometimes and be less blunt and callous, he would make a lot of friends if he did that.

Q8. what characters does your muse have interesting interactions with? A8. Kuvira (Avatar. Legend of Korra), Alex Benedetto (Gangsta), i think mostly Moana (Disney’s Moana), Fang ( Final Fantasy XIII trilogy), Kuja (Final Fantasy IX)

Q9. what gives you the inspiration to write your muse? A9. SE not fleshing out Caius, a lot of gothic horror pieces of literature, Lovecraft and Poe to flesh out his emotional states in some of my rps and what not. To expound upon such an amazing character is an honour and give my perspective on certain events, ones even sensitive, that have shaped his bleak future which he woefully remembers most of his life.

Q10. how long did this take you to complete?

Like a week lol because I was so on and off and doing multiple things

#headcanons: █ ▌◆ ❝ Sleepsong ❞#headcanon: █ ▌❝ poet ❞

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politicalfilth-blog · 7 years

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James Alefantis Threatens PizzaGate Researcher Ryan A. O’Neal

We Are Change

In a video uploaded to Youtube, Pizzagate researcher Ryan A. O’Neal alleges that James Alefantis threatened him and his family’s lives – and the evidence is breathtaking and creepy.

http://wearechange.org/wp-content/uploads/2017/01/Pegasus-Video-Removed-Because-of-Alefantis-Threats.mp4

In the video above, O’Neal shows a series of messages with James Alefantis which purport to show threats made by the DC pizza shop owner. O’Neal has since filed a police report.

In the alleged messages Alefantis cryptically says, “Everything they say about me is true except I don’t like kids.”

O’Neal claims to have compelling evidence that the allegations of Alefantis’ involvement in a pedophile ring are true.

“We are ninety-nine percent sure where it is,” Ryan O’Neal stated in a recent video he uploaded entitled “Pegasus kill-room” seen below.

http://wearechange.org/wp-content/uploads/2017/01/KILL-ROOM-FOUND-Pegasus-Museum-owned-by-Alefantis-is-home-t.mp4

In the video, O’Neal identifies the now infamous “kill room,” which he says has a specific brick pattern. He then traces it back to an original post on the “jimmycomet” Instagram page (which has now been made private). Internet sleuths found that the exact room and brick wall match up to an image found on a “margotwork.com,” according to O’Neal.

O’Neal also makes claims alleging the man featured in the picture, holding a blowtorch, is “Joe Wills.”

He further claims Wills is “one of the guys who helped design Comet Ping Pong” and states that the building in question, containing the “kill room” is not Comet Ping Pong but is the “Pegasus Museum,” located at 3518 11th St. R NW. The museum is “completely surrounded by other buildings” and even a “playground,” O’Neal states in the video.

O’Neal goes on to say that Alefantis contacted Joe Wills about a new roof design via his Instagram. In the Voat.co investigation researchers note that Alefantis asks Wills about his “thoughts” on the design.

O’Neal attempts to connect the dots and prove that James Alefantis is also the C.E.O. of Castellum Achilles LLC.

Shep Ambelas, writing for Intellihub, noted the connection between the LLC name and the ancient Latin for “a watchtower”.

He also noted that public records showed that the building had construction permits issued around the same time. Additionally, Ambelas added, “spray painting on the wall clearly says ‘kids’ with a down arrow.”

“This connection also demonstrates that Alefantis is not just a simple ‘pizza shop owner’ as he has claimed in the mainstream media on at least one occasion. Moreover, it is also important to point out that the definition of “castellum,” according to Wikipedia, is: “A castellum in ancient Latin is usually either: a small Roman fortlet or tower, a diminutive of castrum, often used as a watchtower or signal station e.g. on Hadrian’s Wall,” which is an interesting caveat with a cherry on top, if I may add.

The building itself and the property in which the Pegasus Museum is situated on are located in the “Columbia Heights” neighborhood. Assessed at a value $325,560, the museum is owned by Castellum Achilles LLC.

According to public records, the museum has previously had building permits issued for construction which seem to match up closely to a timeframe semi-consistent with photos that Alefantis himself posted on Instagram that show open trenches in what is believed by O’Neal to be the “Pegasus kill room.”

Strangely, it has also been discovered that within a close proximity of the Pegasus Museum several ominous markings, graffiti taggings, can be found. One of the tags, spray painted on a concrete wall, clearly says “kids” and has an arrow pointing downward.”

Prior to uploading his video, O’Neal reached out to conduct a user submitted interview with Alefantis. At first Alefantis denied his proposal, but reportedly responded very calm and collected.

The alleged conversation is below:

Alefantis began the conversation by saying, “Okay man you win.”

To which O’Neal responds with “interview?”

Alefantis then asks for O’Neal’s voat name. Which O’Neal responds with, “what do you need that for?”

Alefantis replies, “how do I know you have any cred?”

O’Neal then gives him his voat name “IsThisGameOfThrones”

Alefantis then points out that O’Neal’s Youtube account is different from his Voat name and asks a question about another user. “[Who is] hopingtohelp?” Alefantis asks, “Looks like a shill to me.”

Alefantis then says O’Neal’s first name, “I know Ryan he wanted me to tell you,”

O’Neal, responds “lol gotcha.”

This is when Alefantis takes a darker turn, “Is he your son, oh do you know his mom?” Alefantis asks.

O’Neal responds, “I’m confused?”

Alefantis then posts his full name, “Ryan Alexander O’Neal”

“Spelled it wrong,” O’Neal replies.

“So what’s up man?” O’Neal writes.

“Hes in trouble” Alefantis responds.

“Who?” O’Neal says.

“YOU,” Alefantis responds back in all caps.

Alefantis then says, “Call me you have ten seconds.” Followed by a 10 second countdown.

“Last chance” Alefantis writes.

O’Neal then calls Alefantis alleging that Alefantis “flipped out” and threatened his family and his girlfriend; Yelling in a three-minute phone call which O’Neil did not provide proof of.

“He said he was going to kill me, he said he was going to kill my son, kill my girlfriend, kill my mom, and send me to prison,” O’Neal said.

O’Neal alleges that Alefantis then told him to “Delete his Pegasus Museum video or he would die and his mom, girlfriend, and son would die and then that he would sue his dead body.”

The next part of the conversation took place over text messages directly to O’Neal’s phone which seem to confirm the earlier assertions that Alefantis threatened him as the harassment and threats continued.

“Just the pegasus shit, figure out how to do it – no waves,” Alefantis wrote.

O’Neal responds: “I am a super reasonable guy you don’t have to threaten me like that.”

Alefantis then replies, “You can keep your kill room shit about the rest of it fix this and we are reasonable” sending a picture of O’Neal and his mom.

Alefantis: Thanks. Feel ok?

O’Neal: Not really. Just threatened to kill everybody.

Alefantis: No need for all of that.

O’Neal: Deleted the video.

Alefantis: Good. Blame YouTube.

O’Neal: Delete the thread on Voat too?

Alefantis: They are taking things down. I think be more creative. Say you think it’s nothing or something — it’s your culture. CAlm down and think about it first.

O’Neal: Ok.

Alefantis: Let’s look and discuss. This might be ok. Thank you. Let me know when you have calmed a bit.

O’Neal: Give me a week.

Alefantis: Ha. Welcome to my world. Call me quick I’ll be nice this time. I appreciate you taking down.

O’Neal: I’m riding around with somebody. Gimme a minute.

Alefantis then responds, “Cute” and sends a picture of O’Neal’s girlfriend.

O’Neal responds back, “Is that you being nice?”

“Not yet. So call quick then I can go to bed with less worries,” Alefantis, says.

O’Neal then tells Alefantis that Mods deleted his posts on Voat.

Alefantis responds back, “Ok. What’s mods?”

O’Neal clarifies the acronym “Moderators.”

“Humm draws attention?”Alefantis says.

O’Neal: “They deleted because my content was removed I guess. Reason: 1 2 3.”

Alefantis responds, “Humm. Looks there.”

Alefantis: “Looks like you are trying to make money off this.”

O’Neal then tells Alefantis that he is About to call him for a second time.

O’Neal called Alefantis back and said that “he was nicer” but that Alefantis still assured him “he would die” if he did not pull down the video and stay silent.

Alefantis then started more cryptic speech “Ok. One more thing this ‘happened to me.’ YOU — created this. You can uncreate.”

O’Neal responded, “It’s an interesting subject. Just doing research on a hobby basically. I would never want myself or family to have any harm done because of this.”

To which Alefantis replied, “Meaning — you created it for yourself — you can un-create. Yeah well it’s good you didn’t end up like Welch — in jail for 35 years. Or everyone who ‘s getting sued. You can find a much more profitable and beneficial hobby.”

O’Neal then states, “I mean nothing I did was wrong but wrong or not it’s just not worth it.”

Alefantis replies by saying, “Actually lots of what you did is illegal. And punishable. But it’s expensive to sue. So people don’t do it. I can explain it to you someday. There would also be criminal — state charges on some of it. But you would need someone smart enough and connected who wanted to make sure it was enforced. And so far you don’t have that.”

O’Neal responds, basically saying you win “I took down the video. You win by a landslide,” he says.

“So go to sleep. Thank you for that. It’s appreciated. And by the way this story is a pack of lies,” Alefantis responds.

O’Neal then asks Alefantis “What is it then? Pure garbage?”

Alefantis replies “Yup. I mean that wall is the same wall.”

“Oh I confirmed that lol,” O’Neal responds.

“But what the hell does that mean.” Alefantis asks (referring to the wall) “And our families deserve to be safe,” he added.

“No doubt. What y’all building in the room? Why the trenches?” O’Neal asks.

” You are too much man. On the edge of total destruction — still curious?” Alefantis replies.

“I’m curious for myself. No worries.” O’Neal says reassuring Alefantis.

“FBI liked your videos. So there is something. And. PLUMBING. Have you ever run plumbing?” Alefantis responds.

O’Neal sends an “lol.”

“To build a room it’s not trenches. Any basic construction moron would see the difference next.” Alefantis responded.

“So the kill room stuff was just a joke?” O’Neal bravely asks. “IDK about that stuff,” speaking about the plumbing he adds.

Alefantis replies with an “Ugh.”

“Sorry sorry I’ll stop.” O’Neal replies.

“You don’t know what.” Alefantis questions, adding “It’s a freaky room.”

O’Neal responds, “Construction.”

“That’s why people put shit on Instagram.” Alefantis says referring to if it was a joke.

“You never moved pipes I guess. You are a decorator,” Alefantis says sending him an old picture of one of his jobs.

“I designed a few bars. You like? You’re quite the designer.” O’Neal, responds.

Alefantis then makes yet another threat. “One more thing. If one of these assholes gets near my mom or her house that’s it for you. That’s bethesda fellows is driving over tomorrow. I’m sure nothing will happen but if it does.” he, says.

“They’ve been talking about Pegasus for awhile,” O’Neal replies back.

“Everything they say about me is true. Except I don’t like kids. At all. You should soon take all your shit down. Busted for profiteering.” Alefantis says.

O’Neal replies “Will do.”

Alefantis responds by saying, “Night.”

“Goodnight. Take it down now or later?” O’Neal asks

Alefantis answers, “It’s your culture.”

To which O’Neal replies “heard,” (letting Alefantis know that he got the message.)

“Maybe all. Prob best. Disappear. Profiteer gone. I’m going to protect my family now. Now or soon.” Alefantis says.

“Will do,” O’Neal replies.

Alefantis then makes one final threat “And I don’t really want to hear about you again from anyone. Night Ryan. Cute gf”

“I’m telling you I’m done. Way too real,” O’Neal replies.

Alefantis sends one final message “Lucky boy. Keep your Voat profile though XO,” to which he added emoticons of money, two ping pong paddles, kissy lips, and painted nails.

While everyone is innocent until proven guilty, O’Neal has since uploaded another video that proves that the person he spoke to was indeed James Alefantis. Whether or not Alefantis is innocent and a victim of a viral hoax campaign doesn’t matter he just committed another crime – threatening O’Neal with murder.

http://wearechange.org/wp-content/uploads/2017/01/Proof-That-Its-Alefantis-Facebook-Screen-capture.mp4

The post James Alefantis Threatens PizzaGate Researcher Ryan A. O’Neal appeared first on We Are Change.

from We Are Change http://wearechange.org/james-alefantis-threatens-pizzagate-researcher-ryan-oneal/

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