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feanorianethicsdepartment · 3 years

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

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

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

i can never buy entirely fluffy depictions of kidnap dads

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

and...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

as for maglor...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

... right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#ask #my terrible headcanons #elros #elrond #maglor #elwing #earendil #feanorians #niphredilien #yellow feathered faerie #putting your old url in the tags for archival purposes #post nyanyannya askbox clearout #ironically it turned out almost as long as the songfic that clogged up my askbox in the first place #and it is DONE #fuck this took forever to write #stayed up late just to get it out the door so i don't have to think about it any more #this is a long ramble and i'm pretty sure the end is just me repeating myself ad nausem sorry #i'll admit to a certain pro-feanorian bias in my interpretation #but i also don't want elros and elrond to just. live in a neverending horrorshow for decades #the silm's cruel enough we don't need that #narratively i feel like elrond being All Of The Elves is a good mirror for elros being All Of The Humans #but it didn't really fit the angle i was going for #bleck #let's see how many followers i lose for this

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pluviophile-bookworm · 5 years

Text

Thoughts/ reaction to AWAE 3x6

That opening scene of the preparations for the county fair makes me nostalgic for some reason. Also, I need this background music in my life. I love AWAE's cold opens.

And... we're off to a bad start. I have a terrible cold and so does Anne. I know exactly how that feels. And to have something important coming up as well... Poor Anne.

Matthew and his radish are the expected golden content of this episode and I'm all in for it.

If this episode consisted of nothing but the colourful everyday life at the Cuthbert household, I would still love it as much as any other episode. Maybe even more than some.

Gilbert is making me laugh. How is a white shirt key in making a good impression to anyone? If anything, I wouldn't seek the approval of people whose opinion of me depends on a white shirt. And what does he need Winifred's parents' approval for? Is he marrying her now? As far as I can remember, he wanted to marry Anne last week. Seriously, Blythe, make up your mind!

"Not thinking that far ahead", my butt! Last week, as far as I remember, you were thinking that far ahead. With Anne in mind.

And there goes our dashing young hero... Who can't figure out whom he likes. Seriously, I want to like Gilbert because I love Gilbert, but he's not making it very easy for me.

Anne is the classical Smitten Teenage Girl™ in this scene.

"Special occasion? - No, not really." Yeah, right, that's why you tried on every single one of your virtually identical white shirts a scene ago. But we wouldn't want Anne's family to think you're dressing up for another girl, would we now?

What is Anne sneaking out for? Since when does she need to sneak out to visit Diana? She's not Jerry.

Diana knows things about Gilbert's subconscious that he's hidden away so carefully that he doesn't even remember they're there: "Maybe it was an excuse... To see you."

Minnie May makes such a good Diana impression... Am I a bad person for thinking that maybe she could be the kind of daughter her mother wants, while Diana embraces her happiness with Jerry?

Look at Anne almost quoting the source material... and I think the comparison with Elizabeth and Darcy is quite accurate, at least on account of my reactions to both couples. I mean, you have two individuals who are very obviously made for each other but will go out of their way to convince everyone, including and especially themselves, that they’re not. Also, Anne reminds me so much of Elizabeth Bennet, AWAE Anne in particular. And of course, this line means that all the visual parallels were on purpose! Poetic cinema is coming full circle by acknowledging itself.

Ok, but Minnie May is such a typical little sister. I love her so much. But why won’t Diana tell Anne about Jerry?

Gilbert is dressing up for Winifred. Meanwhile, Matthew is dressing up for his radish. Spirit animal material much?

And all of a sudden Anne is the typical Smitten Teenage Girl with all the associated behaviours: awkwardness, embarrassment, noticing weird details about the object of her affections (the chin comment, anyone?), and now “he loves me, he loves me not”. Come on, girl, you’re different. You’re better than that. But, of course, the ways of love are mysterious.

The baby horse is still the cutest thing in the world. Along with baby Delly, of course.

And now Anne even has her hair done in the very same style as all the other girls. At least that was different before. I mean, I love the look on her, she’s as beautiful as ever, but I’m getting the rather unpleasant idea that she’s losing her uniqueness and it’s all because of Gilbert; and based on what we saw of him in this episode so far, he’s not worth it.

On the other hand, the books had her become more... conventional, or at least conventional-presenting, by the time she turned 16, so that might count as source material accuracy.

The fortune teller cracks me up. Cigarette smoke in an orb? Really? Also, Anne totally said what I was thinking: “I think I learned more from the daisy”...

“Does my hair look more auburn?” That’s Book Anne right there.

The background music... you can tell by it that the Baynards just entered the scene... also, Derry. Derry! Oh my goodness gracious, DERRY!!!

I love the subtlety of their exchange about the book and the handkerchief. They’re doing this secret romance thing very well.

Ok, a second ago everything was so beautiful and hopeful, and then... first, Diana notices Gilbert before Anne does - and in quite an unpleasant position. And then Diana’s mother goes on about “extricating” themselves from the Baynards... poor Derry. Especially poor Diana. I just wish all this classist behaviour would go to... Hartford, Hereford and Hampshire (bonus points to all those of you who get the reference, and to me for referencing a work about classism in relation to classist behaviours).

Miss Stacy is the epitome of feminism in this scene - wearing trousers and giving all the men a run for their money at shooting. Go, Muriel!

As much as I dislike Rachel Lynde’s general behaviour, the relationship she has with her husband just has to be admired. Maybe she just wants Muriel to have what she has, and she’s failing to see that maybe not everybody needs or wants the same things.

And... Billy’s back. I remember saying back when I was watching 3x1 that if i never saw him again, it would still be too soon. I don’t mean to spread hate, but I’m sick and tired of his sexism and racism and homophobia and toxic masculinity. But well. To each their own.

I love that Prissy is back as well. She made the right decision about herself when we last saw her, and she doesn’t seem to have taken a single step back. In fact, she appears to have moved forward since we last saw her. Good on you, Prissy! But now Josie seems to be headed down a similar rather toxic road to the one that Prissy barely escaped - and with Prissy’s own brother, too. I hope it all works out well.

This is the moment I realise how unfortunate it is that Prissy and Josie aren’t very close. If they were Prissy might have warned her against some signs of toxic behaviour that she herself didn’t recognise back then...

Of course, Billy. Of course the game is “rigged”. But not for Jerry, it seems. In your face, Andrews!

I. Am. Dying! I just want to shout “Derry!” from the rooftops.

The little dog matches her gloves, you guys! Also, every time Diana says “Merci, Jerry!”, I just melt into a big puddle of fangirl.

The county fair is treating my boy Jerry really well, I must say.

Can we talk about Diana’s boldness, though? She’s really living life to the fullest, if only in secret. I hope my daring girl is free to pursue her happiness one day. And that day better be soon.

This conversation must be so uncomfortable for Gilbert. And he’s putting himself through it for a girl that isn’t even meant for him. He knows it, no matter what he tells himself or everyone else.

I just pictured Matthew saying to Gilbert “What are your intentions towards my Anne?”, and now my heart is breaking at the thought that he might never get to say it.

I am totally with Anne on this one, but you have to admit that the fortune teller was right about one thing at least - “The universe works in mysterious ways.” As frustrating as this episode is Shirbert-wise, I stand by my ship and I hope they will both come to their senses soon enough. We wanted angst, didn’t we? We wanted pining and obstacles and a realistic development - well, there it is. Why are we frustrated about it? This stage is not final.

“That boy is not your fish.” No, but he is her lobster. Gosh, I’m full of references today.

“Classmate and family friend.” Oh please. I can’t believe I’m saying it, but I like Winifred better than Gilbert in this scene: “Do you spell it with or without an E?” I really wish Gilbert wasn’t in the picture right now because if it weren’t for his role in each of their lives, Anne and Winifred might just be friends.

This was awkward. Really awkward. Gilbert didn’t hesitate for a second when he introduced Anne as his classmate, but now he’s stumbling over what label he should put on his relationship with Winifred. If I were to put it for him, it would be “friend”, maybe even “mentor”, but who knows what he or Anne are thinking during that long pause.

The tension, the suspense... is this MasterChef? Last I checked it was not.

Ok, but Anne in this episode is so much like Book Anne, at least as far as I can remember. It’s been a while since I last read the books. Gilbert is as far removed from his book counterpart as can be, though, and I don’t like it.

Most unusual? What is that supposed to mean? Also, I agree with Anne about entering herself, but maybe not with the connotations of “unusual” she’s thinking about now. She’s all kinds of wonderfully extraordinary, I mean. I hope she never forgets that.

Oh, look, she came to that realisation. I love that; and Marilla is such a mood on the balloon. But seriously, I'm delighted to see Anne coming back to her old self.

Is that Gilbert dancing between Anne and Winifred? Poetic cinema.

Ruby and Moody? I ship it! They are both absolute cinnamon rolls and deserve each other so much!

“Pretty face”? Is that all she is to you? Whoa, things took a turn for the darker pretty quickly.

“I want your pretty face”... and I want you locked up. At the very least. He had no right to do that to her!

Ok, I know we’re in the middle of one of the darkest moments this series has shown us so far, but we need to talk about Ruby being oh so excited about Moody writing a song for her and the prospect of becoming Ruby Spurgeon. Wow, she moves fast! She deserves all the happiness in the world and I’m so happy she’s finally being noticed by someone... someone who is really right for her and will make her happy. #Rudy #Mooby #Spurgillis ?? Somebody please come up with a good ship name for them.

Now Anne is considering Charlie? “Sloane? Sounds like “moan”, “tone”... I guess Gilbert deserved that with today’s behaviour, though.

Miss Stacy asking Matthew to dance just to “drive Rachel mad”... I love it.

Could that be Diana and Jerry holding hands in plain sight in the dance? Could it be? Am I dreaming? Pinch me. Or better don’t. I never want this to end.

Good thing news travels fast so Anne could hear about Josie. Otherwise no one might have ever found out. Victims rarely ever tell and that’s a big mistake.

I so wished Anne would punch Billy in the face Hermione-style, though. The vibes she was giving off suggested she might do it, and yet she didn’t.

The next day at school, Anne is just... completely savage in the best way of saying it. “Need to catch a train to Charlottetown?” She has no time to waste worrying about Gilbert now, she has an important cause. I love it. Too bad nobody is listening to her, though. This is too much like reality. When the activist talks about the real issues and tries to find a solution, people just change the subject and talk about insignificant petty problems instead. And the worst part is that this isn’t just in that time and place - it happens today, it happens everywhere. People still haven’t learned not to cover their eyes when a real problem arises. This has to change.

To sum up today’s episode: the county fair pulls people back into their everyday work while also sparking the fire of youthful courtship among them; Gilbert is not Gilbert; Anne is Book Anne; Shirbert takes a giant step backwards; Jerry takes a cautious little step forward, Diana leaps into the unknown with open arms; Matthew’s radish and Anne’s person are most unusual in the best way possible; the Andrews family has some achievements and some issues; Miss Stacy is a feminist icon; Ruby and Moody are very much a thing; Anne is now an ignored activist.

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ofheroesandvillains · 5 years

Text

Do Better - Tony Stark

Dad!Tony, daughter!reader

Words: 4.6k

Warnings: Angst, mentions of illness and death

Request: (SPOILER) Tony has a daughter but she thinks he doesn’t like her because shes a product of a one night stand? Tony forgets about her dance recital and attends Peters decatholon, and shes heartbroken and she cries and tells him its fine because hes made his choice? And she ends missing school for two weeks and Tony finds out and assumes she was doing drugs and such but she was at the hospital with her mother who doesnt have much time left? Something real angsty?

Hey everyone! Back into this whole writing business. My next fic will be a Steve/anti-hero reader if anyone is interested, but I wanted to say thank you to @queenofkings121 for requesting this. I tried to include everything so I hope you like it!

(gif not mine!)

Her mother was a dancer. Beautiful and graceful, with an elegance that seemed so effortless it left the audience in awe. It was the music that had first piqued her interest, upbeat and optimistic, haunting and bittersweet…it could captivate an audience, hold them prisoner and force them to feel the plethora of emotions communicated in each and every note.

Watching her mother on stage, drifting about like a feather in the wind, had inspired her to do the same. There was no one she loved more than her mother and dancing had long ago become her way of expressing herself, of showing her audience how to feel, so that they might one day understand how she herself felt.

She may have been a teenager, but she already knew that dancing would be her life. Her mother had never been more proud of her than the day she won her first competition, and their close bond was only strengthened each weekend they would spend rehearsing in her mother’s studio, laughing and learning together.

They hadn’t been to the studio in two years now, and it had already been four months since she had moved in with her father. Not that anyone knew he was her father – he didn’t want to share that information with the world.

He claimed it was for her safety, she thought it was because of his shame.

He had a good life now, it had its ups and downs where saving the world was involved, but he had friends, fame and fortune and even a wonderful woman who loved him. He didn’t need her there to stain the new reputation he’d forged for himself.

Tony Stark was no longer the reckless playboy the world used to know.

It was a life he had left in the past.

And she was just a reminder of who he no longer wished to be.

She expected the disbelief at first. A paternity test confirmed Tony’s doubts, and while he was obviously more concerned with Pepper’s reaction to the information, she didn’t take it to heart. She was just a stranger to him, just as he was to her. It forced an awkwardness between them that she had never experienced before. Everything was always so much easier with her mother – she knew exactly what to do, exactly what to say.

Tony wasn’t around much, and when he was, he had other priorities to deal with. That’s not to say that he neglected her. No, no, whatever she needed he would provide without second thought. Unfortunately, he didn’t quite realise that what she wanted most was a father.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The rift between them had formed early. He didn’t understand – couldn’t understand – and she didn’t try to make him.

“What the hell is this?”

She hadn’t been paying enough attention, pulling her textbooks out of her schoolbag in the living area so that she could study. Tony’s eyes were glued to it the moment it fell to the floor, disbelief and disappointment battled it out across his features and she hated seeing either of them.

He’d been mad, of course he’d been mad. She would have been too if their roles were reversed. The small, unmarked, zip-lock bag was impossible to miss as it sat on the dark floor, or at least the handful of little white pills were.

Those horrified dark eyes had drilled a hole into her face, but she wasn’t looking at him, she was still too shocked to even blink. Tony snatched the bag out of her hands the moment she scooped it from the floor, and only then did she feel her own panic.

“No, wait, I need that! Please, just— I can explain! Stop, don’t!”

He flushed them down the toilet despite her frantic protests. He was livid, outraged even…but so was she. He hadn’t asked, just assumed. She needed them, she really did.

“What the hell!”

He ignored her outrage.

“Where did you get those?”

He was surprisingly calm, but she could see his rage bubbling beneath the surface. It made its appearance real quick when she refused to answer.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

She was grounded after that, of course she was. With an escort to and from school, eyes on her no matter where she went, it was almost impossible to not feel the constant presence of his disappointment and distrust. Midtown was a good school, not as comfortable or familiar as her old school, where the kids didn’t compete to be the next Tony Stark, but it was nice enough.

She knew why he’d sent her there. Just another pair of eyes he could have on her during school hours. Peter Parker.

It wasn’t that she disliked Peter, but it was significantly harder to see him as a friend when he was so eager to impress her father. He’d do anything that Tony asked of him, and she could see the strong bond they shared. It was easier in the early days, but the longer she knew them, the more she realised that Peter had a better relationship with her own father than she did. It was difficult to not feel jealous of that, but she tried her best.

She understood why Tony cared about him so much. He was a good kid, special, smart, a superhero, someone Tony had much more in common with. It didn’t matter that she was essentially half of her father, that they shared more than just blood. It wasn’t enough. She doubted it ever would be.

Peter was like a puppy though. Always wide-eyed and stuttering when he saw her. Half of the time she wondered if some of the awe he sent Tony’s way was transferred onto her for no good reason. Did he think Tony loved her? Did he envy her as much as she envied him? Did he think they shared a healthy relationship, that he was the best father anyone could’ve ever dreamed of? He wasn’t, not to her. But he was to Peter, so maybe he just assumed she had it even better than he did because of her surname.

Despite the hurt look he’d always adopt when she ghosted him, she went out of her way to avoid Peter and any of the negative feelings his presence would inadvertently give rise to.

Two weeks passed and it didn’t get much easier. Tony wasn’t kidding about constant supervision, and even though he always seemed to forget small ‘irrelevant’ details, this was apparently serious enough to gain his full attention. Or maybe he just told F.R.I.D.A.Y to remember for him. That was more likely.

He’d taken it upon himself to avoid her lately. He was still hurt and disappointed, that much she knew for certain, so she stayed out of his way as much as possible.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

She volunteered at the hospital. At least that’s what she told Tony all those months ago. It was a little further out, away from Manhattan, but he never questioned her. He probably threw that bit of information under the ‘irrelevant’ pile.

“Hi, sweetheart.”

Even laying there in a hospital bed, she still looked beautiful. Her smile still lit up the room, banishing the dark shadows that had settled under her eyes.

“Hey, mom.”

They spoke, as they always did, about anything and everything that came to mind. But the uncomfortable silence that stretched the moment Tony was mentioned did not go unnoticed.

“What is it, kiddo? Talk to me.”

She did.

“You remember when you first told me about him? And,” she sighed, “and I was so excited.”

Her mother chuckled.

“Of course. You were seven, and you always said that one day you’d build a plane with your own two hands – just like he would – and fly over to meet him.”

They both smiled at the memory, one full of admiration and the other full of disappointment.

“What is it?” Her mother whispered, her smile slipping away. A thumb brushed over her knuckles, light, but supportive nonetheless.

“I wish I never met him, mom. I wish…I—”

The tears came out of nowhere, and she scolded herself for them. Here she was, crying like a baby, as if Tony was some monster that personally tormented her. He was a good man, they both knew it, but she’d heard a quote somewhere about meeting your heroes. How they always let you down, or something like that.

She didn’t mean the words, they both knew that. She just wanted her dad to love her as much as she loved him.

It was unrealistic to think that all would be well, that the fantasy her seven-year-old mind had conjured about a happy family, with two loving parents who had found each other after years apart, could be a reality. Now she was old enough to know the truth. Her father and mother weren’t in love, Cinderella hadn’t found her Prince and lost him for a short while before their happily ever after.

She was the product of a rowdy weekend, the type that Tony Stark was infamous for. Her mother meant nothing to him, she meant nothing to him.

“—I wish things were different.”

Then she was wrapped up in comforting arms, the same arms that held her close on cold nights when the power cut out, the same arms that guided her in her first dance, the same arms that were growing weaker with each day, and the ones she’d miss more than anything.

“Oh, sweetheart…so do I.”

They talked for a while after that, her mother encouraging her to take a chance with Tony, to try. And she promised she would. A few days had passed and Tony was back from a business trip. She found him in his work shop, as usual.

“Da—” she cleared her throat uncomfortably “—Tony?”

He looked surprised to see her, and though she didn’t notice it, concern flickered through his eyes when he noticed how nervous she looked. He knew he’d been a little rough on her lately, but it was for good reason. He didn’t know what she got up to in her free time, and obviously he should have been paying more attention. He wasn’t the best example of a normal childhood, but he drew the line at drugs.

“Hey, what’s up?”

She took a step into the room, hesitated, and then continued forward. It was rare for him to give anyone his full attention when he was working on a project, but in his mind, she would always be an exception. Even if he didn’t know how to express that to her.

“I, uh, I was wondering…and you can say no if you want, I know it’s not really your thing—”

“Kid? Breathe.” He smiled, amused, and despite everything she felt and thought, it had the same effect on her that her mother’s always had.

“I have a recital coming up in a few weeks, my first one for Midtown – there’s tickets on the fridge – I was wondering if you’d like to come watch? You don’t have to…”

She shifted nervously, gaze glued to anything but him.

She missed the way his eyes softened.

“I’ll be there.”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

She couldn’t explain the intense nervousness that flooded her whenever she thought about the recital. Well, she could, but she didn’t understand why she couldn’t just get over it. Ever since she was a child, she’d tried her hardest in school, as if her father was secretly watching her the whole time and she wanted to make him proud.

That obviously wasn’t the case, but now she had the chance to do so. Dancing was in her blood, it was the half of her that she knew best, and the half that he knew least. She wanted him to see that half. She wanted him to know who she was, and who her mother had been.

The school had been bustling with activity. If the students weren’t talking about the dance recital, they were talking about the scholastic decathlon happening on the same day. The group of students – including Peter, much to her relief – had left the day before and were expected to do well.

As the school day came to an end, her nerves had hit her full force.

Proud parents and family members had steadily flowed into the room and found their seats, and with each passing moment the nerves faded. So did her hope.

It was a strange feeling, the anticipation of watching each person walk through the door only to realise that they weren’t him. Her mother was always one of the first in, sitting as close to the front row as possible with an encouraging thumbs up and a beaming smile.

The movements were automatic, ingrained in her mind and replicated flawlessly. Her brain was too busy wondering where he was, her eyes too busy searching the crowd to see if she had perhaps missed him coming in. But no, by the time the music had been replaced by applause it was clear to her – Tony hadn’t come.

At first she tried to push the disappointment and hurt away when she got home that day. Tony was a busy man, and she couldn’t expect him to remember every detail of her life. He probably had a meeting, or maybe he was off saving the world…she couldn’t jump to conclusions and assume he’d just forgotten about her altogether.

But she quickly learned that was exactly the case.

Walking into school the next morning was unlike anything she’d seen before. The team had won in D.C. and the students flocked around them like they were celebrities. With her head down, she made her way to her locker, brows furrowing every time she heard a particular name mentioned.

“I heard he was there to see that Paul Barker kid…”

“Peter Parker.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said.”

“Who was?”

“Tony Stark!”

“Shut up! No way…”

“There, look!”

And sure enough, flashing across all of the monitors in the school was a proud Tony Stark standing beside an excitable Peter Parker. Mr Stark’s protege, that’s what the kids called him – the Stark Internship had really paid off.

The hurt came in waves, every time she’d try to rationalise, she’d come to the same conclusion.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“So, how’d it go?”

Her mother was excited when she saw her. She’d always be her number one fan.

“It was good, my teacher said I have a lot of potential.”

“Oh, sweetie. I always knew you were special.”

That soft, watery smile was on her mother’s face again, the same smile she always wore when she watched her dance. She couldn’t help but smile back, giving a grateful squeeze to the hand she’d been holding since she arrived at the hospital.

“And your father? What did he think?”

It took every ounce of strength she had to maintain her smile; she didn’t have the heart to ruin her mother’s mood.

“Yeah, um…I–I think he really enjoyed it.”

Another squeeze of the hand, another smile, and more words of praise.

Her mother’s happiness would always be worth the guilt.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“What the hell do you mean you don’t know where she is?!”

“Tony, honey—”

“No!”

The room grew silent. Tony rarely raised his voice at his friends, and he never raised his voice at Pepper. Happy had nothing to tell him, he was at as much of a loss as Tony was. His job was to ensure the safety of the youngest Stark. They had been friends for so long that Happy knew exactly how big of an ask that was.

Tony Stark loved the kid, he really did.

It had only been a few months, but there was nothing Tony wouldn’t do for her – Happy knew that. Despite not knowing how to even begin being a father, Tony was trying.

The disappointment Happy felt in himself was monumental. Between babysitting Parker and protecting Pepper, his hands were often full, but that was no excuse in his eyes. He’d failed his friend. Tony trusted him to keep an eye on her and Happy had trusted his men to do just that in his stead.

Tony Stark’s only child had been missing for two days, and he’d only found out after he’d gotten back from an impromptu meeting in Boston.

“We don’t know how she managed to slip past our guys, Tony—”

“And no one could pick up a damn phone and tell me this?”

Panic, he was familiar with, fear too. But there was something different, something unexplainable and primal when a parent felt that their child was in danger. That was a fear he didn’t know how to deal with. Did she slip past? Or was she taken? Was she hurt? Was she even still Ali–?

No, no, she...she couldn’t be…

“Damn it!”

A mug was swiped off the counter, colliding with the fridge and landing in pieces. Tony scoffed, dark, unblinking eyes following the trails of coffee as they slithered down the surface and almost mockingly seeped into the envelope pinned there with a magnet.

No one dared to move as he slowly made his way over to the fridge. The envelope glared right back at him, the printed label hitting him like a punch to the gut.

He plucked the envelope from its place, paying no mind to the coffee coating his fingers nor the puddle he was standing in. His shoulders slumped.

MIDTOWN 2019 DANCE RECITAL

NOVEMBER 2nd 2019

TWO (2) TICKETS

“Damn it…”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The day after her recital was spent at the hospital. The nurses pitied her too much to ever send her home, knowing that she was losing her mother, and not knowing that her father was very much in the picture. The hurt from the previous day still simmered under the surface, but being there with her mother often reminded her of what was really important in life.

But things wouldn’t get easier that day.

The doctor was a good man, kindhearted and supportive, he did all he could to help them. But it hadn’t been enough. The mind was a funny thing – she’d known for months that her mother didn’t have long left, yet irrational hope still remained when he walked through those doors. Hope that he’d have good news, that somehow, some miracle would allow her to keep the one person in the world that mattered to her most.

The news was never good, and time was running out.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

There was a knock at the door the next day. Nobody usually visited other than the doctor and the nurses.

“Oh…”

“Weren’t expecting me?”

Tony smiled at how surprised she looked, but it was quick to dim when he took a good look at her. Her face was thinner, and she looked so very tired. But the smile she shot back was just as warm as he remembered.

When his daughter arrived on his doorstep she’d told him that her mother was gone. After noting the despair it brought her to speak of the woman who had raised her, Tony decided he’d never bring it up again. At the time, he assumed that ‘gone’ meant her mother had passed, and though he’d told himself he would check, one disaster after another drew his attention instead.

I should have been there for her, he thought. There were a lot of things he should have done. It was just another thing to add to the long list of things he had to make up for.

His eyes darted to his daughter, curled up on a small couch and finally asleep after hours of convincing. The fear that had settled in his heart the day before finally abated, and he allowed himself to breathe again.

“How...how did you find me?”

Tony sighed, making his way over to sit on the edge of her bed. He offered her a sad smile.

“My kid went missing, had to start somewhere.” He huffed a laugh, rubbing at his chest unconsciously. “Damn near gave me a heart attack.”

She frowned and reached over to give his free hand a sympathetic squeeze. “I’m sorry, Tony…I tried to get her to go home—”

“No, don’t apologise, it’s not your fault.” He waved away her concerns. “This one’s on me.”

He wondered if he could ever get this parenting thing right. But she didn’t let him stew in his self-depreciation.

“You know she thinks the world of you, right?”

His uncertain gaze met her own and he couldn’t see anything but sincerity. She smiled.

“She’d ask so many questions about you…she wanted to meet you more than anything.”

Tony looked over to the couch. She was a good kid, one he never knew he’d even wanted, one he hardly deserved.

“I feel like I’m constantly letting her down, y’know?” His jaw clenched, a tell-tale sign that he was trying to keep his emotions in check.

“Then stop.”

His brow furrowed. “Stop what?”

“Stop letting her down.”

He almost scoffed at how simple she made it seem. If he knew how to do that, he wouldn’t have been in this situation.

“You can start by going to a recital…” She suggested, humming in amusement when he grimaced.

“She, uh, she told you about that, huh?” He rubbed the back of his neck.

The regret he’d felt the moment he’d seen those tickets on the fridge was indescribable. He’d been in D.C. despite telling her he would be there for her. The last time Peter went on a school trip he nearly got himself killed, and Tony’s worries wouldn’t allow that to happen again. He was ashamed to admit that the recital completely slipped his mind.

“No.” She chucked. “She’s just as bad a liar as you are.”

They shared laugh.

“Listen, I uh, I’m going to work on transferring you over to the Tower.” He held up a hand when she tried to protest. “No, no way. It’s the least I could do,” he frowned, “I just wish I’d known sooner.”

All of the times that you left the Tower to ‘volunteer’ at the hospital suddenly made a lot more sense to him.

“Please don’t blame her, I told her not to tell you.”

She gave his hand another squeeze when his eyes dropped to the ground, knowing that he was beating himself up about it for no good reason. It was a bad habit he had yet to kick.

“But thank you, Tony. Medicine, well, it’s not cheap…” She sighed. “I had to sell the old studio, and she knew exactly what that meant. I tried to hide it from her, but she’s a smart kid.”

She shot him a pointed look, as if to say ‘that one’s also on you’. He nodded with a grin, and she was glad to see the pride in it.

“Then she started coming back with medication.” Tony’s eyes shot over to her in realisation, but her own eyes were closed as she shook her head. “I never knew where she got them from, but thank you for putting an end to that.”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

When she finally woke up, it was to her mother’s laugh. She frowned in confusion, and thought she was seeing things when she noticed Tony sitting at her mother’s bedside. They were chatting like old friends, with a familiarity she didn’t expect them to have. She didn’t quite understand that they’d always be bound together. Even if they had nothing else in common, they still had her.

“Mom? Dad?”

The conversation came to an abrupt halt the moment they realised she was awake.

Tony felt his heart race. Dad. No one had ever called him that before, not even her. He knew she’d almost done it before, cutting herself off before she could. What he didn’t know was what stopped her every time. Was he so disappointing as a father figure that she refused to associate the word with him? Or did it just feel wrong to call a stranger dad? If he ever asked, she’d tell him the truth – that she feared he thought the exact same things of her.

They were both stupid.

But for now he could just enjoy the fact that she was too sleepy to even realise the slip.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Her mother offered her usual warm smile.

Before she could ask the obvious question, a nurse bustled into the room. She must have missed something important, because they were discussing how to go about moving her mother out of the hospital. From what she gathered, Tony knew that her time was coming to an end and he wanted her as comfortable as possible when that time came.

She wanted to be grateful, but it was all just a reminder that she’d soon be alone in the world.

Her parents decided that she’d be riding with Tony on the way back to the Tower. To say that it was awkward would be an understatement. Her hurt still lingered, and he was feeling too many emotions altogether. Either way, he knew he’d hurt her, her mother had told him as much, and he’d be damned if he didn’t fix it.

“I didn’t know…”

Tony’s voice cut through the silence like a knife.

“She didn’t want you to.” Her words were gentle, like softening a blow, he thought.

“Did you?” He wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.

She hesitated for a moment before reluctantly shaking her head.

His heart ached at the thought of her not trusting him, not believing in him. And for a moment, a painful, torturous moment, he saw himself in her shoes. Young, with the world at her feet, and a father too damn selfish to see that she didn’t need the money, or the material, or the media…she needed him.

“I don’t know, I guess…I just, I figured you wouldn’t care.” Her lower lip wobbled, and she turned to watch the world go by outside the window.

“What?” He was stunned, hardly able to believe that she thought so little of him – that he’d given her no reason to think any more of him.

“We’re– we’re strangers. You’ve already chosen your family…” the tears finally spilled over, and Tony felt his own eyes prickling at the sight, no matter how hard she tried to hide it from him. “With Pepper and, and Peter…you know them better, and–”

His hands were quick to grasp her shoulders and turn her to face him, effectively bringing her ramble to an end.

“Hey, stop. Look at me.” She did, wide and glassy eyes nearly breaking his heart all over again. “There’s no choice. Not for me. It’s you, always…okay?”

She sniffled lightly, swiping at her eyes with a sleeve. He didn’t waver, there was nothing but resolution in his voice and the hope that fluttered in her chest nearly brought on a fresh wave of tears.

“Okay.”

“C’mere.” He gently tugged her forward into tight hug. “I know you might not believe me when I say this – I’ll work on that – but you…you’re my daughter, and I love ya, kid.”

Her shoulders shook and he couldn’t tell if it was a laugh or more tears, but he hardly cared when he heard her reply.

“I love you too, dad.”

There was plenty for him to do, problems that wouldn’t go away and situations that he could do nothing to protect her against. But step by step, he’d make her proud. He promised it to her mother, and he promised it to himself. Now he just had to prove it to her.

Please let me know if you see any mistakes...it’s late :)

Part 2

#tony stark #tony stark x reader #tony stark daughter #marvel #ironman

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callmemythicalminx · 4 years

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Musical Review: Dear Evan Hansen

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So. I finally succumbed and watched Dear Evan Hansen. I felt at least that it deserved a watch if only for the music as it’s been praised and achieved such great acclaim. And for the most part, I can see why. The songs are catchy and memorable and I found myself enjoying Sincerely, Me more than I thought I would. Requiem is beautiful and You Will Be Found packs an emotional Act 1 finish if you were to listen to it without context. If this were another show, I probably would have cried during most of these songs. Throughout the show, I found myself quite detached from the music. The reason why? The story. The characters. The message of the whole show- It ruined what could have been a great representation of mental health and suicide in a musical.

The story starts off with our awkward and only slightly memorable main character, Evan, preparing to start his first day of Senior Year. We’re introduced to him as he types himself a letter, an assignment given to him by his therapist who is forgotten about once the show gets going. He has social anxiety, stumbling over his words and panicking about what could be, as he fiddles with his broken arm and feet. As someone who has experienced many forms of anxiety myself, I connected with this fear immediately- this, however, didn’t last for long. We meet his mother Heidi, who brings the audience more information on just how scared Evan is of people, that he can’t even order food out of fear of talking to the delivery man. Once again, another situation which I relate too. Heidi is one of those stereotypical parents used in shows, who works too much, isn’t really as close to the kid as they think they are and is, of course, separated from the other parent. She sings her struggles after pushing Evan to get his fellow students to sign his cast to make friends and then we move to the other important household of this story, the Murphy’s.

We meet another stereotypical family, a mother who’s trying, a father who’s present but miles away, and the kids who hate each other. Connor is our next big character though he’s reduced to just a prop essentially after 10 minutes. He’s a loner and an aggressive bully to everyone around him, getting high and ignoring his parents. He and his sister Zoe argue, while his parents do the same. Cynthia, the mother, sings about her struggles and then the show continues. Evan interacts with two new characters at school, Jared (a douchey family friend) and Alana (a self-absorbed classmate). They both notice his arm in a cast but don’t sign it. Connor then comes along and in a fit of rage, thinks Evan is making fun of him and pushes him over. Zoe sees and apologises for her brother’s behaviour. After singing about how miserable the rest of his life will be if it continues this way, Evan then writes another letter about how bad the day was. It focuses on Zoe quite a bit as he has a crush on her and it’s the only thing making him happy. Connor comes in then and signs Evan’s cast in giant letters, before finding a printout of the letter than has just been written. He immediately gets angry again and storms of with the letter, thinking Evan was once again making fun of him. The cast and letter now become huge props in the story.

The story continues as we find out Connor has committed suicide and Evan’s note was found with him. The Murphy parents believe it’s their son’s suicide note and now think he and Evan were best friends, further seeing proof of this when they see their son’s name on his cast. Our main character tells them it’s true and kickstarts a seemingly neverending cannon of lies in an attempt to help the family with their grieving. Throughout most of the show, he then tells them more lies about what they did, the places they visited, including specific detail on an apple orchard where they spent time together. He enlists the help of Jared and Alana to help him write fake emails from Connor to himself and further build his web of lies. This eventually leads to the creation of The Connor Project, a kind of charity to keep his name and ‘story’ alive, raising money to reopen the apple orchard. During this time, he’s distanced himself from his mother, instead now enjoying the attention he gets from the Murphy’s and Zoe, who is a weird romance becomes his girlfriend. The character of Connor has now become nothing more than a prop for use in the show, though his actor still shows up after his death. Instead of continuing the character though, he’s now become a figment of Evan’s imagination, a version of Connor that has been made up and is nothing like the one before. Though the show’s story follows the idea of not being forgotten and keeping his story of suicide alive, in actual fact, it’s just being erased as everything that he was is replaced with lies.

Eventually, as the Murphy’s begin to suffer the consequences of Evan’s actions receiving online hate, he finally reveals that everything was a lie and that he and Connor were never friends. At this point, I was expecting the punishment for his actions to be huge- but there was nothing! He sings once more about his miserable life while the family turn on him in disgust. He and his mother then forgive each other for both of their wrongdoings after revealing more information that doesn’t make much difference to anything and then everything is fine. The show finishes with Evan and Zoe talking one last time at the apple orchard, where he thanks her for keeping the secret of his lies and she responds that it brought their family together. After she’s gone, Evan writes a final mental note talking about the impact he’s had and that he’s finally accepted himself… and that’s the end!

What in the hell was that? It’s not often that I get to the end of a show and think to myself ‘what just happened?’. I took nothing away from this story or the characters. There wasn’t a single thing in the musical that I liked, apart from the music. Most of the characters were bland and stereotypical in personality and the others had no redeemable qualities to make them interesting or likeable. First and foremost, I dislike Evan… a lot. The character’s bad representation of social anxiety doesn’t excuse his manipulative and awful actions to get himself more attention. His romance with Zoe feels forced and almost predatory in a way as he used her grieving, emotional vulnerability to get close to her. He suffers no consequences for his actions, though they had a tremendously bad effect, yet the show pushes the audience to think that they somehow created positive change towards the communities view of suicide. Because of his lies, an entire boys life was erased and fabricated into something else. His family ended up receiving copious amounts of hate online ‘for not looking after their son’ which you would think would lead them to reveal the truth about Evan’s deceit- but nope, ‘it brought them closer together’! The apple orchard reopens yet that feels uncomfortable as it was funded by the charity of people believing the manipulative lies of one teenager.

What is the message of this show? What am I supposed to take away from it? ‘You Will Be Found’ could have been such a powerful song in a different show, one that uses the theme of mental health in a proper way. I detest the fact that Connor’s suicide simply becomes a plot device and is overlooked as Evan spreads his lies. We never find out why he killed himself, which further makes his character’s erasement more annoying and stupid. I think the show definitely believes it’s being progressive by discussing these themes of mental health, but it’s just using them. Instead of showing something beautiful, to show no one with mental illness is ever truly alone, the show instead feels cold. Evan, Jared and Alana all seem to use Connor’s suicide to advance their own selfish reasons. After the damage is done and Evan moves on, the Murph’s are left to continue picking up the pieces, lying about a fake version of Connor. I would have loved to see more of his character, see the reasoning for his suicide. We saw from his short time on stage that he was angry, abusive and aggressive but this is never explained why.

The story could have been so much better if while Evan spins his web lies, he ends up finding out more about Connor and his own mental health issues, maybe through a diary or something similar to Evan’s letters. Our main character could have then realised that others feel the way he does and what he was doing was wrong. He could then understand that suicide is never the right answer and that he’s not alone. He could have suffered real consequences before telling the world about the real Connor and what they should learn from him. Instead the show tried to push this positive ‘you are not alone’ message from a false version of a character, made up by someone who is manipulative and selfish.

I know I’m one of few who dislike the show and that I’ve been very harsh with it, which is completely understandable. Everyone has different opinions, which is why I love being part of different fandoms so much. I really thought I’d relate to it after suffering through school with mental health issues myself but it just made me angry. I’ve always thought that especially nowadays, suicide and anxiety are always portrayed unrealistically in entertainment and media. There are very few things I can think of that do it well. A musical with a powerful message and story like the one I described could have been amazing, especially as love for musical theatre continues to grow. Instead, Dear Evan Hansen fails to represent even realistic mental health issues, never mind anything positive to help deal with it. I just can’t like this show now after seeing how badly it portrays these themes, especially male suicide and anxiety. In our modern society, it’s still a huge problem and a show that could have been there for young teenage boys who deal with these issues could have been incredible. Teaching them that suicide isn’t the answer and there is always someone who can help you would have been not only great to see, but revolutionary in getting people to discuss this complicated and emotional subject. But instead, we got this story. As I said, the music is exceptional and, if you didn’t know the context, could be super useful in helping you feel less alone. The story and characters ruin this positive idea though, instead using mental health as cheap prop for a terrible story and characters.

🌟 🌟 /5

#dear evan hansen #dear even hanson #dear even hansen the musical #musicals #broadway #musicalreviews #musical review #west end #musical theatre #musicaltheaternerd #musical theater fandom #musical theatre kid #musical theater geek #connor murphy #evan hansen #you will be found #review

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all-about-wannaone · 7 years

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Wanna One as Princes [Part 2]

Once again, I am back with the second part of this series and for some reason, this was a little harder to write. ^^;; I’m not sure what happened, but the ideas did not flow as well so I hope that this does not become an awkward read. D: Nevertheless, I tried my best to capture their characters in real life and put them into my writings, and with that, I wish you guys a happy reading experience from the second part to this request by @theresnowarinbasingse!

PART 1: Yoon Jisung, Ha Sungwoon, Hwang Minhyun, Ong Seongwoo

Kim Jaehwan:

Another prince who nobody would have guessed either that he was part of the royal bloodline.

Often gets mistaken for a typical government official or a scholar, because he always carries this book around in his hands.

The lowkey prince who is often found in the city centre reading his book (I wonder what) and listens out for the problems in society.

Puts in his input into political conversations while reading and nobody knows who he is, apart from the fact that he’s someone whom they always see at the fountain and is “extremely smart”.

Reads the people’s letters sent to him and combined with whatever he has heard or seen on the street, he gets quick and efficient work done.

The people are relatively happy and peaceful, but they are a little sad that they can never thank the prince himself. (He was right under their noses the entire time)

Not only wise, but extremely talented.

Participates in talent shows that the community organises and everyone knows him as a “Vocal God”

Always gives his winnings to others under an anonymous tag or charity.

Terrible at combat and would probably suit the marching band more but tries his best anyway.

When he likes a girl, he would be THE cheeseball and make use of his vocal talents to express his love for her.

Depending on his mood, he would either set up a stage in the city centre or give her a personal performance when the two are alone.

Probably leads to a quick mutual kiss or just two blushing beings waiting to make the first move.

Kang Daniel:

Carries a noble aura, so people can suspect that he’s of royal descent.

Is often seen walking with a skip in his steps and a bright smile on his face, occasionally waving to the people of the town.

Everybody knows him as that smiley noble whom they can trust and be comfortable with in sharing their problems and concerns.

Champions for the rights of animals and is always seen with a pouch of food for stray animals. (Probably started an organisation for their protection too)

Effective and efficient solutions to rectify the people’s problems, but it does not go without some effort from society themselves.

Fosters a close-knitted, peaceful, hardworking and resilient society where everyone stands together in the face of adversity.

Another all-rounder; looks exuding charm, great personality, talented in both sports and arts (namely ball games and dance) and obtains scholarly achievements.

Good combatting skills and can handle a range of weapons in practice, and definitely in battle.

Confessions to a girl he likes would probably be the cheesiest, yet cutest thing EVER.

Will not say it openly but will show it through his actions (the way he treats you, buys you random gifts etc.) and also the type to lend you his 60cm wide shoulders to lean on.

Will probably take his girlfriend stargazing to say, “I need the starshine in your heavenly eyes after the day’s great sun.” and would later say, “I like this, don’t you think? I like…. us.”

Park Jihoon:

Blessed with good genes and a mature aura, everyone knows that this boy has to be a part of the royal family, because there’s no way not to be for his case.

Doesn’t really carry any fixed expression when he walks around town, but it tends to be gentle and a little awkward when people bow and greet him out of respect.

But still bows back awkwardly anyway and pulls off his signature small smile that makes the girls’ hearts flutter.

Older citizens fawn over him and tend to pass him home cooked food whenever they see him around, invites him over for meals and basically treats him like their own son.

They would naturally open up to him and he would take all their concerns to heart, mentally taking notes while his bodyguard also listens in to take them down physically.

Doesn’t speak very much, but provides comfort and security with the people he interacts with.

Will go back to the palace almost immediately with a troubled heart, but a determined mind, to sort out all the troubles that his people face, while comparing notes with his personal bodyguard.

Might seem like a gentle being who can’t kill a fly, but he does not tolerate incompetence when it comes to settling societal issues (has probably fired a few government officials)

A little on the naive side sometimes, explaining the need for a bodyguard to prevent him from making rash decisions.

His community is hardworking, honest, peaceful and grateful towards their rulers.

All in all, he is a gentle and quiet being, serious with his work, has a soft spot for the children and the elderly and always attains top grades with ease.

Is a little clumsy with the sword because of his relatively small stature (and the lack of strength), but has an affinity with the bow & arrow and throwing knives, utilising them with deadly accuracy.

His bodyguard still tries his best to tutor Jihoon with the sword, and thankfully, he is getting better (as long as he works a little more on his upper body strength).

At this point, he sounds like a tsundere, but he actually does show it when he likes someone with the way he behaves and acts around her.

Would think he’s obvious with his crush and doesn’t feel the need to say it, until friends start commenting why they are not together and the reply is because they have not talked about it.

When he realises this, he would talk to the girl once the two of them are alone to his favourite hilltop, overlooking the scenery of the town and say, “If only I knew that all I needed to do was ask, we would have started dating a long time ago.”

Park Woojin:

If everyone in the list was mistaken as either a scholar or a noble, Woojin would be none of those.

He would be assumed as a lost and awkward teenager trying to find his place in the world because of his naturally shy behaviour.

Doesn’t really appreciate crowds so he’s not found often in the bustling city centre and is instead found in the outskirts or the quiet side lanes when he wants to find his quiet time out of the palace.

Quite a naive boy, so his personal bodyguard always ensures that he is kept safe and unharmed, especially when he’s accidentally approached by gangsters for trespassing their self proclaimed territory.

Luckily, he knows how to defend himself with hand-to-hand combat (to everyone’s surprise) and can probably handle a group of 5 men on his own.

Hears and learns a lot more by spending his quiet time outside the palace, especially when it comes to the people and writes them down in his handy notebook (before he forgets) and comes up with a plan there and then on how to solve it.

People often see what he has done for them and wonders who is the kind soul; suspects it’s the royal family’s doing but are equally doubtful because they rarely write about their problems and the family is hardly seen out of the palace.

Woojin will be sitting in a nearby corner, listening to the people reacting to his doings with smiles and shouts of joy, bringing a smile to his face and a sense of relief, before continuing on his way.

Also has a soft spot for children and would often play with them if they follow him around; always has snacks hidden in his outfit and gives it to them.

Is adored by the older community too and receives treatment similar to Jihoon (I mean, he’s a literal bean)

Kind, gentle and shy, but gets things done quickly and efficiently (also to everyone’s surprise); exudes quiet maturity, is well read with the country’s politics, laws and appreciates the finer things in life (especially the Arts)

Extremely skilled in hand-to-hand combat, but hates the use of weapons due to his nature of preferring to avoid conflict using such deadly weapons; is trying to build up on his confidence and courage but finds it extremely difficult at times.

His quiet nature carries on to his love life too, but eventually opens up to show more of his playful side when he knows her well enough and knows that he would not be judged for just being himself.

Leaves subtle hints here and there (plays with her hair, giving compliments, crafting gifts) but these are hard to notice for her, and he eventually gets frustrated.

Thankful for his supportive friends but freaks out and blurts out “I like you.” instead of that entire paragraph that he had prepared beforehand, but the girl won’t mind and if she was exactly like him, the response would either be “I like you too.” or a shy kiss on his cheek.

And once again, that is all for today! :) I know this was posted a little late but it is 2am where I am now and I would just like to apologise for the inconsistencies in lengths. ;; Might do an edit to this list when I can but I hope that it brought a smile to all your faces as you imagined the Wanna One members in royal garments and being all prince-like. ^^ Will hope to post Part 3 tomorrow and that will contain the final members Bae Jinyoung, Lee Daehwi and Lai Guanlin! :)

Requests will still be open for this week so do drop in an ask or a message to see more lists like these! ^^ Hope to see more of you guys there and thank you once again for taking the time to read these! ^^

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ashensoul1995 · 7 years

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Sunken ships not meant to sail

If a relationship feels like a thorny noose around your throat, chances are it is NOT a relationship but something you need to get rid of as soon as possible. I say this after sacrificing a good chunk of my mental health and what feels like most of my teenage years to a relationship that knocked over everything I believed I was and erected the strangest things in place of it. If I could I would walk back to old me and slap her, hard, across the face for being ok with any of it. I was young and suddenly he was intent on this crazy passion and clinginess I had never experienced before. We were only a few months apart in age and both of us were artists and writers. Within a day he had swooped over me and I found myself slightly bright eyed and giddy. I wanted to introduce him to all my friends and my parental unit, in a sense that consisted of a person the rest of the world seemed to both hate and adore equally. I still remember that very first meeting and the completely blank and uninterested look on his face as he seemed to stare straight through Jamie and everything that he was for me when I expected him to manage to somehow turn him away like he had so many other young men. Instead I got a long and hard look afterwards and a firm 'be careful with him.' I do wish I had listened and picked up on the undertone of wariness but I was too giddy with the cloyingly sweet realisation that someone actually loved me enough to want to be part of my life. And then came the contract. Yes I had to sign a friendship contract. A contract that detailed what I could and could not do. A contract that detailed everything I was and was meant to dictate my entire existence. And I agreed. I agreed to not talking to anyone but him, not sharing anything with anyone but him, not interacting with anyone but him, calling him for at least four hours every day, meeting up with him at least once a week outside of school for at least ten hours. He did ask me to write up a contract of what I expected from him. I was too confused to actually think of anything and came up with 'please be happy and know that I need you.' And yes I want to go back and throttle myself today but I was young and he seemed to love me like crazy and that was the only thing that mattered. He loved me too much it seemed, and somehow we seemed to look good together. Two awkwardly skinny, tall and gangly raven haired teens who liked art and would always be somehow interlocked; he either had a hand around mine, a hand on my shoulder, an arm around my shoulders. He was just there. Everywhere. And he would often turn up at my 'home' after hours or else I would end up at his where we giggled and talked and discussed all kinds of things while his younger brother did strange things next door. My (I use this term lightly here) parental unit seemed strangely ok with me having a boyfriend in my room for hours on end with the door closed and would often try to get to know him, or so it seemed but most of the time just seemed to be almost anxiously watching me as though trying to figure something out that made no sense to him. The contract became matching outfits and then eventually I felt like we were one rather strange two headed creature. I was so tired of it though, worn out by this human who for whatever reason loved me so much and had pretty much crawled under my skin and was doing strange things I did not even understand. Everyone found us to be adorable; teachers, his parents, anyone who saw us together and who experienced me laughing and him saying stupid things and then his..love for animals. I have a vague memory of watching Twilight with him at home with my parental unit staying far away on the other side of pointedly closed doors but his gorgeous black cat Scar decided to come in and use Jamie's leg as a scratching post. I realise now that he must have tried to send Scar in himself to make me realise that Jamie was in fact incapable of talking to animals and was making it all up. I do get annoyed, but I paid no mind to it and decided Jamie and Scar could bond later. Jamie liked buying me gifts. And once he went as far as buying me something that I subsequently lost. I write this with the painful cold creeping in under my bones that day brought about because the gift was lost. And he refused to talk to me and to stop cold shouldering me. I remember the fear and the despair and worry that Jamie would never talk to me again and how I was found by my 'parental unit' (who I will refer to as Moon Man) sitting broken outside the school gate with a flushed face and a heavy heart. He tried to ask me what happened, and I lied and told him I lost the gift but Jamie didn't know and would be upset when he found out. He sat with me for hours, kits us two humans on the dusty pavement for hours and hours because he somehow knew I had to stay put as he assured me that Jamie loved me, and though my loss of the gift was a bad thing he would understand it was just a gift and I shouldn't worry because everyone loses something and Jamie would understand. I never told him I cried later on because I was so confused about why Jamie was angry over a gift but decided it would make sense over time, maybe. The next part of this sits heavy in my core as I realise it will probably become a reason for open mockery of me and maybe even a cause for a lot of people judging me. Funnily I don't care anymore. Sometimes you just need to talk about certain things to stop them hurting you and making everything taste and smell funny. Obviously sexuality is a big thing, especially as a teenager. I found myself writing up highly detailed sexual scenes for Jamie because he wanted the, and seemed to need them...or he threatened to tell everyone that I was a lesbian? Actually now that I think of it that would have been a really cool way of being, unfortunately I was young and dumb and scared so I wrote these things for him. And he seemed to like them. And that became a thing. There was some parental meeting thing held by his mother at his house. And his mother decided she wanted to invite me and Moon Man despite me not being a parent and him not being a parent or even a mother either. I remember actually feeling excited at how Moon Man agreed to making the trip with me and how he volunteered to bake them macarons and how happy I was that he was supporting me. I remember how Jamie's mother visibly flushed upon seeing him and led him in before sweetly cooing that Jamie was waiting for me. I remember the two hours of Jamie and how weirdly good it felt to be against him and with him and just the stupid things like him telling me how his brother seemed to have reached that awkward stage of puberty where he was doing strange things. And that he thought I was the prettiest person ever and that I was his muse and he was so happy and honoured to know me. When it was time to go Moon Man seemed weirdly calm about everything and kept looking at me amusedly but never really said anything. I remember that has to be the day he decided he wanted to invite his sister over and how they cut my hair and he took her aside to say something and then she made me feel pretty by trying to teach me how to not make my eyeliner so severe. Afterwards she left for a bit and Moon Man decided to order pizza, which was weird for me seeing as he was a fanatic about fitness and though that could have been because of his bulimia he was always intent on never going near fast food and always eating healthy. I made the normal excuse that I was not hungry and had eaten with Jamie. It always worked anyway and he was too busy drowning in his own struggle to realise what I was doing, but he suddenly went strangely quiet and I still remember that day when we found ourselves side by side on the sofa while he tried to figure out why I was starving myself ("do you see something that asks you to starve yourself?" "Have you actually been eating anything at all?" "What are the first thoughts that come to your mind?" And the agonised "did I do this to you? How long has this been going on?" ) I have vague memory of the realisation that Jamie must have told his mother who asked him to confront me. It does hurt now realising that I was the only person who made Moon Man cry, much later apparently when he was on his own and thought I was asleep I overhead him being comforted by a friend while he seemed to either be snuffling or crying and now that really hurt me. However maybe it was a good thing because it changed things and was what made him really aware of everything I was doing so I didn't quite starve. Jamie started hating Moon Man. I never understood when that happened but it did. He started telling me things about him I already knew (he sleeps around/he does drugs/he doesn't care about anyone/he's too sarcastic/he's too skinny and the only muscle definition he has is because he has no body fat...) And I just laughed it off because I did not care as long as Jamie and Moon Man did NOT fight. Jamie showed me pictures or I think told me of instances before when Moon Man was just into fitness about how he had 'the perfect lean physique' and said that it had gotten to his head which was why he had turned out how he had. I do wonder if Jamie knew about the schizophrenia or if he even actually cared that sometimes Moon Man would go out of his way to try to adhere to what Jamie's mother seemed to expect of me, even when he was so sick he was close to passing out. I realise how much he wanted me to be happy now and maybe he felt Jamie would make me happy and he let that happen like he had refused to let me see so many people before Jamie. There was a dance and I was called upon as Jamie and I were the dream couple. And we were expected to attend and look gorgeous together. Everyone was going to dress up and wear strapless booby dresses and tuxedos. I owned no dress and eventually ended up telling Moon Man who, without a question looked through books and magazines and vanished inside his room far under the rest of the house and somehow managed to create a stunning black and green dress that I was overwhelmed by the beauty of. I still have it today and take it out on special occasions. I have pictures in it because everyone who saw me in it said I looked incredible. Moon Man just smiled amusedly and told me he just wanted me to go out with my head up and look beautiful. Jamie didn't like the dress. He saw it and decided he wanted a proper couture wearing partner. It broke my heart hearing him say that and yet I decided that I would skip the fancy occasion. I told Moon Man I had fallen sick and he accepted that despite saying he felt bad I was missing such an important moment for myself maybe because I looked so rattled. He let me hide in bed all day and I cried until my eyes hurt too much. For those people who know me, they probably know maths is far from my strength. Maybe I am very dumb but maths never fails to confuse me. In fact I only fully taught myself long division two summers ago because I had to tutor someone else about it. At some point it seemed my maths teacher started calling me out on how slow and simple and dumb I was. I didn't actually suspect anything at all and decided maybe I really was dumb and stupid and incapable..and now I realise how much she liked Jamie and it all lurches into perspective. If you know me maybe you know that I am scared senseless of being accused of lying? Everything I say and do I get paranoid that it will be seen as lies. That is because Jamie would accuse me of lying all the time though I was always honest, I am used to being told I am lying. In fact I will always read between the lines and worry that I am considered a liar. It puts me in the messiest, stickiest situation... Moon Man decided to kill himself and that left a pretty big hole in my existence. A hole that only grew bigger and bigger. And somehow that whole catalysed a lot of agony inflicted on me from Jamie. I expected support and maybe even love. I have more scars to my heart and soul and sanity that I feel anyone should have. So many painful memories and moments of fear and horror and of being in tears and crying helplessly but keeping up the 'perfect' pretence around everyone else. And often wishing I had been entirely honest with Moon Man and he had stopped me from whatever I had done that had ended up like this. Of course rumours about me had been spread through school and everyone was whispering about me all the time. It hurt to try to do much of anything and I swung along with it. I remember the way my friend Luke (no name change here as I can not bring myself to it, almost) mused aloud that I loved Jamie with so much purity and passion he was lucky for having me, and how I just smiled and laughed at him and told him Jamie was the best thing that has ever happened to me. I still remember the day it all ended. I remember how I stumbled away blinded by my own tears and tried to do stupid things to cope. I spent a very long time in bed. The only thought running through my head was Jamie's number. I was scared of phones, I was scared of doorbells, I was scared of people, I was scared of talking to anyone and I had lost myself completely. The friends I had tried to support me while I kept on falling apart. I have memories of a few ER trips and Luke's anxious face looking down at me in confusion... I share 2,608 words about Jamie after a rough start to the year but not because I want someone to call me attention seeking or because I need a lot of attention or sympathy. I do it because I want to warn people of what true love is not. True love does NOT hurt. It would never make you cry. It would never tear you to pieces, it would never chew your heart up and throw it aside. It would support and love you unconditionally. If it makes you feel uncomfortable it is NOT love. If it leaves bruises or scars then it can never be love. If it leaves you with severe anxiety and depression and body dysmorphic disorder please do not tell me it is love. Be free and refuse to let anyone tear you apart and open. No one should tell you what to do or how to be and if they do then they need to fuck a flaming cactus. Please love and love well, properly and in all the right and proper ways. Understand WHAT love really is and walk away from anything that hurts. It is never worth the pain because it is not meant to bruise and scar and burn you for life.

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