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#I am frustrated that the creator is not the most supportive person towards other creators. I don't exactly support her

indy-gray · 9 months

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I done got frustrated

My desire to keep my opinions to myself managed to last most of the day. New record tbh.

So like I wrote this big long rant a couple of weeks ago and decided against sharing it while I was still frustrated. But I do feel like maybe there is a larger discussion to be had! I think it's important that we as a writeblr community really take a look at why so many of us are getting so frustrated so often and how we as a community and as individuals can work towards an actually community vs a corner of social media. @blind-the-winds did an excellent job of explaining some of what I'm seeing as well in relation to why a lot of positivity and support posts and such ring hollow to so many of us. I wanted to bring a slightly different perspective to things coming from a marketing/social media marketing background. Under the cut out of respect for everyone's dashboards lol

This is going to get INCREDIBLY LONG. So I have a read more here. Behold, the bitchfest.

So this started today when I was chatting with an irl friend and expressing my frustrations about writeblr in general as a community. And what I've recognized now is this: writeblr isn't really much of a community, and it is very rare to find other creators and writers who are willing to treat you (the hypothetical writer) as another human being with a love for the same craft they do. Those people who do treat you like people are some of the loveliest people I've found on the internet, but they are hard to find.

Now, to be clear, I don't think the problem is completely writeblr's fault, nor do I believe it is any one or two or five hundred individual's fault. The problem comes from a number of different sources, and my friend did a great job of helping me see the problem from a number of different perspectives.

The problem being this: it is impossible to get engagement on posts that feature original long-form writing, and it is exceedingly difficult to effectively foster meaningful connections with other writers.

Some disclaimers: it's not impossible, and the people who successfully receive engagement on their long-form writing tend to be the people who are the exceptions proving the rule. Also, by "engagement" I mean any interaction that serves to both consume the content and spread the content. "Original" writing refers to writing that is not fandom related, and "long-form" means 1k words or more.

Do you think 1k words is a little short for "long-form" writing? Me too. I'll get to that.

I'll start my explanation here with what catalyzed these revelations in my little head. Over night, I got quite a few new followers, all directly coming from a post that got mildly popular here on writeblr. So, I looked at what other posts of mine have been popular, and I started to notice a trend.

My most popular posts tend to fit into one of three categories: memes, tag games, and boost posts/recommendations. Memes tend to be popular because they're funny and easy to spread, and as long as they fit the theme, they don't ruin a blog's aesthetic. Tag games get more interaction because I am directly tagging people to see the post. But the popularity for those posts tend to stop at the half dozen to a dozen people tagged in each given post (the person or people tagging me, and the several people I tag to continue the game). The last category is most interesting to me, the boost posts and recommendations.

Here's the thing, I only boost or rec other writers and blogs if I have invested interest and care into the person behind the blog and their content. AKA, I only really boost friends and writers I admire/like their content. It's great to see that those posts get popular with people outside my circle, but out of those three categories, none of them feature my own content.

Why is that?

It seems like every day I see a new post with a few thousand notes at least complaining about a lack of interaction on writeblr and the importance of reblogs and blah blah I rarely stop to read those let alone spread them. And a few dots connected, I think.

If my content isn't getting interaction, and your content isn't getting interaction, then what is? And I think the answer is this: memes, advice, and boosts.

Memes and advice are self-explanatory. But boosts are interesting because you will see everyone hop on to rec other people or more frequently market themselves, but they stop there. And I see my greatest influx of interaction and new followers when I boost other people's works or blogs.

My conclusion is that many people are using writeblr as a hustle and not a community. In a community we engage with each other, talk to each other, enjoy each other's company. And I've found many mutuals to be very lovely people who I do enjoy and who I love to engage with and who I like to genuinely call my friends. I like a lot of yall for different reasons too! Some of you are great hype buddies, some of yall are all about that accountability buddy system, and I really love when I get to have intellectual conversations about the craft and different concepts with different members of writeblr too.

But largely, I find that a lot of people who engage once with my blog, usually on those boost posts, or who ask for engagement more frequently than when frustration strikes, tend to be the people who think of writeblr as a hustle. They see that I (and many other writers) will boost and rec our friends, and jump on that bandwagon, but instead of putting in the effort to get to know us and our work, they say what needs to be said, hop on trends, and avoid any genuine connection.

So what gives?

It's not the individual writers, I think. It's the nature of social media, marketing, and the medium.

Listen, I work in marketing, and long-form writing is a dying art that is very difficult to market. I genuinely think the concept of "tldr" really ruined a lot of people's ability to engage with longer form writing. Whether that be nonfiction opinion posts or actual fiction. Tumblr is one of the only places I can think of where long-form writing is a feasible medium to post at all, let alone gain a following for.

Think about it: instagram is best suited for images, videos, and short-form aestheticized poetry. Twitter has a character limit that requires long threads of individual tweets or images to get your message across. Pitch events are well-suited for twitter because your pitch by definition needs to be short. But sharing actual summaries, snippets, or excerpts? Not really possible. Tiktok is for videos, which as we know can be utilized, but is not the most efficient method of marketing written word. Ao3 is an archive with an excellent tagging system, but to get readers, outside marketing is required. Facebook requires a real name, and isn't really well suited for content creation either. Wattpad, Royal Road, and others are great for posting actual works, but they don't necessarily have well-functioning tag systems that help the author find their audience. That really just leaves Tumblr. Pillowfort is also an option, though it's still so in the beginning phase of development that it's pretty difficult to get started there.

It's well known in marketing that images and videos catch attention and long paragraphs of text (AKA what most prose looks like) tend to be scrolled past. The very nature of the long-form writing medium is against most marketing techniques. Marketing long-form writing needs to look different from any other medium.

All that being said: the culture of social media engagement has shifted, and this is a conversation that fandom has been having and I think has actually been doing well discussing the different facets of how the culture has shifted. Fandom (and content creation in general) is seen as a commodity to be consumed. Consumers want to see the content, maybe save it for later, and then move on to the next piece. This is easily done with visual mediums, but writing mediums are especially vulnerable to this culture shift because it does require so much time and energy to consume, let alone engage.

Creators don't see their work as a commodity to be consumed, but it is now. When consumers view a piece of visual media, they view the image (consume it) and then move to the next, some will spread it to others by engaging with the picture through reblogs or sending the post to someone else. But most often, there will be a "like" to tell the creator good job, and then scroll to the next. This is harder to do with written media unless one has the time and energy to read the piece. There's the extra step of critical thought.

To put it a different way, the market is flooded with content and creators. With so much to choose from, the consumer now does not have to participate in the community to ensure continued creation. There will be another creator tomorrow. The consumer no longer feels connected to a community of their interests, it is simply being sold to them.

So back to writeblr, this is where I am at a crossroads. I am tired of creating content to be consumed, I want community. But also, I have nowhere else to turn. I can either completely withdraw from what sliver of community I have found, or I can keep trucking along, create my stuff, play the games we play, chat with the people I do like and do care about, and hope that I don't get too frustrated one day and leave for good.

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eddiemunsons-missingnipple · 1 year

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Dear dalia🩷

First of all you are amazing at everything you do and you are blessing us with content always. I am so grateful to have someone in the fandom like you to keep it alive.

That being said…

Second of all you don’t deserve to be treated and talked to the way you are being talked to by other anons.

This is not towards you but just a general message for the dumb ass crusty ass bitches who are dicks.

IF YOU DONT RELATE TO THE STORY DONT FUCKING READ IT.

just because you don’t relate to it or the details it doesn’t mean that nobody relates. There is a sea of people who do relate to their fic.

I personally have small boobs and stretch marks so I felt represented and seen for the first time in a while. Reading most fics the reader has a prefect body and huge tits so I can’t always relate. But that doesn’t give me the right to tell the creator what they should and shouldn’t do with their stories.

If you don’t have anything nice to say then don’t say anything at all. And hey if you don’t fucking like it then go and write your own story or skip it. That is so fucking rude and entitled, get off your high horse and grow up. And if you are gonna say some shitty shit say it with your chest don’t be a pussy on anon.

Don’t be a dickhead to the creators this is the biggest reason why the fandom is dying and creators don’t want to make content. This is ridiculous either be happy or continue scrolling.

This “CONSTRUCTIVE” criticism is actually effecting the creators because most of the time it’s not asked for.

STOP FORCING PEOPLE TO MAKE SUCH A GENERALIZED FICS WITHOUT DETAILS. THERE ARE SO MANY WRITERS WHO MAKE ALL TYPES OF FICS IF YOU DONT LIKE THIS THEN DONT READ IT. BUT DONT TAKE THE FRUSTRATION OUT ON THE WRITERS AND FORCE THEM TO WRITE THE WAY YOU WANT THEM TO.

Thank you for listening. I love you so much dalia and I hope you have a good day🩷😚 by now you probably know who it is ☺️

I love you so much. This message means a lot to me it really does. Thank you for taking the time to show me your support. 🥰💗

#anon

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hezekiahwakely · 1 year

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Just a btw, Newt isn’t a full time employee of Fable and Folly. They’re a freelance artist. F&F had no idea about the article until it was posted, nor are they rivals of RQ. Something that is constantly brought up is that audio drama fans love having more shows to listen to! I personally am a big fan of shows from both networks equally. People pointing out that Newt works for F&F are trying to discredit the article because they love RQ/TMA that much and it’s really frustrating to see. I’ve known Newt, Tal, and Wil for years and I can say the article was written in good faith. I respect all three of them a lot and they wouldn’t say something if there wasn’t a reason to. They wouldn’t just write this to get a reaction or whatever else folks are accusing them of. /ci

Are they a freelance Director of Marketing? Because that's what Fable and Folly's website says about them and where I got most of my info from.

In any case, that still presents a conflict of interest (not sure if this is the best term for this) in writing an article critical of Rusty Quill, one which tries to persuade readers to remove financial support from RQ and put it towards other creative projects. I can't imagine how F&F and RQ aren't competitors seeing as they're both podcast networks in the audio fiction industry doing (what appears to me!) Very similar things.

It's true I do love TMA a great deal, and it has compromised my feelings about the situation. I want to be open about this because as my emotions calm down and more information comes to light, my opinion is likely to evolve.

But I don't want to throw common sense out the window and jump on a bandwagon, or 'cancel' RQ mindlessly either, especially when one of the biggest problems in this situation is lack of transparency and information (from RQ, from the author not disclosing their associations initially, and, unfortunately, what's apparently necessary from the anonymous victims).

I shared the information to increase clarity, not just to mindlessly support RQ because I love TMA. I did this in good faith, as much as can be said for me. Yes I am absolutely biased from the get-go, but I am trying to be open about that fact and combat it as best I can. I'm not trying to stir shit just for the sake of it. I appreciate you coming to the defense of someone you know and I would do the same! But forgive me for not being immediately trustful of the author or of you. There is so little real tangible information here, and I still see a possible incentive for RQ to be slandered in a bad faith manner for multiple reasons (from the author and from former employees). I've seen too many fandom witchhunts to just believe allegations or defenses of allegations that come from anonymous sources in this subject matter. I'm withholding any definitive opinions on the drama until more information is available. But personally I'm not withdrawing my financial support from TMA related projects either until I feel there is stronger evidence to do so. I also don't want to stop supporting all the creators involved who shouldn't suffer for RQ's supposed sins. I'm just really hoping Rusty Quill quickly comes forward with a response to the article, and that they don't blow it off. Or perhaps that someone feels empowered enough to go public and share receipts.

#rq drama #pls dont take this as a personal attack anon #im just trying to be careful with who i believe #in any case its safe to say that i will be looking at RQ with a more critical eye moving forward #also im not sure what yr tone tags (if thats what they are) at the end meant so sorry if i didnt address that

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celestialevie · 3 years

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Sunshine // Charlie Weasley x Healer! reader

(Not my GIF, credit goes to the creator) Genre: fluff with tiny bit of angst words: 1.7k warnings: cursing, like one sentence of smut (so 16+ please), kissing, idiots being oblivious about their feelings, mentions of second degree burn, mentions of broken ankles etc. Summary: Being in love with your childhood best friend is never easy, no matter how much love there is. A/N: This is gender-neutral fic don't mind the gif also, please keep in mind English is not my first language. If there are any mistakes, please let me know. And also thank you so much again for the 100 followers!! Hope you enjoy the fic

Working at your dream job with your childhood best friend has been the absolute dream. Even though you just started working at the sanctuary recently, you’re already loving it. And how could you not when Charlie Weasley has been nothing but supportive and making sure you’re comfortable with everything. Until very recently, you’ve been working at St. Mungo’s since your apprenticeship ended, when Charlie told you that people at the sanctuary are looking for another healer to work in case something happens with the wizards working there. While it did break your heart to leave your two other best friends, Tonks and Penny, you couldn’t pass up on the opportunity to be even closer to Charlie. Everyone around you two knew your feelings for each other, while the two of you kept being oblivious to each other's feelings, not wanting to ruin your friendship. Doing this job wasn’t that hard, healing a few burns here and there, twisted ankles etc. Charlie would find excuses to go and see you, even if it wasn’t actually anything wrong with him. You’ve known Charlie since the first year of Hogwarts, when you ran into him on the train. And honestly, seeing him then, you should’ve known you would’ve caught feelings for him. Red hair and blue eyes, freckles all over his face. Who can blame you? Your thoughts have been interrupted when you heard a knock on your office door. ‘’ Come in! ‘’ you yelled as Charlie opened the door. ‘’ Hi sunshine ‘’ he smiled at you. ‘’ Should’ve known it was you. Are you injured, or did you just come to bother me? ‘’ You ask him with a smile on your face.’’ Actually injured. Baby dragon decided to give me attitude by breathing fire on my hand. ‘’ he approaches you and places himself on a bed meant for patients. Taking his hand in yours, you see the very much visible burn marks on his hand. ‘’ It’s only a second degree burn, thankfully, nothing a little of burn-healing paste can’t cure. I’ll apply it and then wrap it up so that it doesn’t accidentally budge or wipe off. In no matter of time, your hand will be as good as knew and ready for another baby dragon or maybe even mother dragon to burn it again. But please don’t actually get burnt again on that hand if possible or anywhere. Molly would throw a fit if she knew how much of your scars and injuries I heal. ‘’ You say as you grab the burn-healing paste and apply it to his hand and finish it off with wrapping a bandage around his hand. Gently tapping his cheek, he sighs and gets up. ‘’ Thank you sunshine, you’re my saviour. ‘’ he exaggerates while kissing your cheek, and he’s on his way out of your office. What you didn’t know is while healing and inspecting his wound, he finally decided he’ll act up on his feelings. But for that, he’ll need help from one person who’s been helping him ignore his feelings for you. Going back to his place, he quickly wrote a note and sent his owl to that person letting them know to come over to his place asap. A couple of hours have passed before he heard knocking on his door. Opening his door, he saw that they were wearing the same outfit they usually did when they were meeting up. ‘’ Sorry it took me a while to come over, I was at work. ‘’ Charlie gulped and let them in. ‘’ It’s no problem, let’s get this over with and honestly this will probably be the last time we meet up like this, Anna… I decided to stop being a coward and acknowledge my feeling for y/n and do something about them. ‘’ he smiled and at his words Anna’s lips stretched into a wide smile. ‘’ Charlie, that’s amazing! I’m happy for you, god, I wish I could do the same about my feelings for Peter. ‘’ her smile faded a bit and a frown replaced it. Pulling her into his arms, he kissed her passionately, leading her towards the couch and slowly lowering her down on it while not breaking the kiss. Pulling off the coat, he knew she had only underwear underneath it. Slowly kissing down her neck and gently biting into it, wanting to hear her moans, he knew he pulled out of her every time they meet up like this. Lowering himself and kissing down her chest, sucking on

her sweet skin he’s got so familiar with recently. As he took of her bra, and started sucking on her nipples, the door of his cabin opened, and he swears the time stopped for him when he heard y/n’s voice when they interrupted something. ‘’ Hey Charlie….oh I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to interrupt. Please continue, I’m going to go…’’ before he could even muster up a word, they apparated away somewhere. ‘’ FUCK! ‘’ He yelled as he got off of Anna and helped her get dressed. ‘’ Go find her, you idiot! Don’t just scream and shout! You should go find her and tell her everything. I’ll go home. ‘’ Anna yelled at him Giving Anna a small kiss on the cheek as an apology, he quickly tried to think of a place y/n could’ve gone to. The first thing he did was run to her house and started knocking on their door. When they didn’t answer the door, he went to their office. When he tried to enter it, the door was locked, so he knocked a couple of times before moving on to a different location. He remembered showing her a special spot by the lake, which he accidentally found when he first moved to Romania. Quickly imagining that place in his head, he apparated there, and that’s when he spotted them. Sitting by the lake and throwing small rocks at it. Taking a deep breath, he approached them.

‘’ Hey sunshine. ‘’ at the sound of his voice, they raised their head and looked behind them. ‘’ Charlie, hey…’’ clearing his throat, he slowly approached them. ‘’ Mind if I sit down next to you? Been looking around to find you. Just want to explain something to you and then after that I can leave you alone if that’s what you wish for. ‘’ they nodded their head and gently patted a spot next to them. Charlie sat down. ‘’ Can I just say before you start, I’m sorry for walking in your house without knocking or even letting you know I’ll stop by. Didn’t mean to interrupt you and Anna in your private business.’’ their voice was on the verge of breaking because god-damn did their heart break when they saw Charlie and Anna in the middle of whatever they were doing. ‘’ Oh god no sunshine, you have nothing to apologize for. If anything, it’s me who needs to apologize to you. I am so fucking sorry you saw that. But I need to explain that whole situation and for you to understand it I need you to listen to every word I say. Anna and I were nothing more than just fuck buddies. To just try and forget about all the pain in our hearts that we both felt. We never saw each other as more than occasional fuck buddies who were looking to feel something. Her heart is longing for someone else, and so does mine. Sunshine, I know that what you saw probably hurt you more than you’d like to admit to yourself and to me. God, I wish you didn’t see me and her, but….’’ he stops, taking your hands into his and looking into your eyes. My heart only longs and wishes for you, sunshine. God, I’ve never been more in love with someone more than I am in you. If you’re in love with me too or at least have some romantic feelings for me, it would make me the happiest man in the world. If you wish to stay only friends with me, I completely understand, I promise I won’t let my feelings for you ruin our friendship. You mean way too much to me for me to only ruin it because of some stupid feelings. You’re the most important person in my life. You can say what you wish to say now. ‘’ Charlie was preparing for the worse, but what he didn’t expect is for you to start crying. Noticing the panicking look in his eyes, you quickly reassure him. ‘’ No, no, don’t panic, these are the happy and frustrated tears. Penny and Tonks will be over the moon once I let them know they were right about the two of us all this time. ‘’ A small laugh escapes your lips. ‘’ I’ve been in love with you, Charlie, probably since the moment I first met you on the train. All these times I’ve told myself you only saw me as your best friend, how could you ever see me romantically. But I guess I was wrong. ‘’ you wipe away your tears as Charlie looks at you with so much love in his eyes. ‘’ Oh sunshine, I’ve never been happier to see someone laugh. ‘’ you pull him into a hug, never wanting to let him go. He pulls a little away only to press him lips onto yours. The kiss was never sweeter, wanting to keep kissing you for the rest of his life.

BONUS:

When both Penny and Tonks received a letter from you, they didn’t expect anything unusual. But what they received was the happiest news they’ve been wanting to hear since probably fifth year of Hogwarts. Charlie and you were officially together. Just like you expected, you received one big howler from them. ‘’ CHARLES WEASLEY AND Y/F/N L/N HOW DARE YOU ANNOUNCE THE NEWS WE’VE BEEN WANTING TO HEAR JUST CASUALLY IN THE LETTER. I EXPECTED BETTER FROM YOU TWO!! ‘’ Penny screamed, but Tonks was only laughing in the background. ‘’ As soon as we can, Penny and I will come over to the Romania and keep telling y/n ‘ I told you so ‘’ because I TOLD YOU SO YOU DUMB IDIOT! ‘’ Tonks yelled, and all you could do was laugh at Charlie’s shocked and kind of terrified face. Penny can be a bit scary when she wanted to be, and he definitely experienced Penny’s wrath back in Hogwarts. ‘’ Well, they seem to like the news. ‘’ you laughed as you pulled Charlie into a kiss.

#charlie weasley fluff #charlie weasley x reader #charlie weasley #harry potter #hogwarts #nymphadora tonks #penny haywood #charlie weasley x you #charlie weasley fic #charlie weasley fanfiction #charlie weasley angst #charlie weasley one shot #charlie weasley imagine

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averykedavra · 4 years

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Okay, today we’re talking about that scene in LNTAO. You know. That scene.

Yeah.

The thing about Logan (which I’ve noticed during a super-secret project I’m working on that involved reading all the scripts for TSS) is that he apologizes easily—for small stuff. He probably apologizes more than most characters, and it’s pretty instinctive. He hits Patton accidentally? He apologizes.

LOGAN: I am so sorry. I popped up too close there.

His phone interrupts a question? He apologizes.

LOGAN: I'm sorry, that is my text tone.

He doesn't need Virgil right now but Virgil showed up anyway? He apologizes.

LOGAN: Oh, I'm--I'm sorry, no.

This makes sense. Apologizing is logical. When you've made a small mistake or hurt someone, apologize. So far, Logan's acting in accordance with his logic and being even a little more empathetic than necessary.

Things get more interesting, however, when we cross the line from small nuisances to larger mistakes. It's hard to define the difference but in this case, it's usually when Logan has made a severe error in judgment that has consequences beyond himself. Especially when Thomas is directly or indirectly affected--Thomas is Logan's center and Logan cares deeply about helping and supporting Thomas. So when Logan messes up and accidentally jeopardizes Thomas or leads him astray, he treats this as a serious mistake.

What kind of mistake am I talking about? This kind:

He always apologizes for these, too. It's just not the same way he apologized for the smaller stuff. Instead of a simple 'sorry,' he barely ever uses that word at all. Instead, he says it in a usually circituous way that implies he may have made a mistake. And he focuses on what he can do to fix it and what the next steps may be.

In Mind vs. Heart, his constant arguing with Patton leaves Thomas indecisive and feeling pressured over every little decision. Although Patton immediately starts gushing apologies when he finds out, Logan is more composed.

LOGAN: What can we do to fix this?

In Losing My Motivation, he tries to find the root of Thomas' procrastination and ends up being said root. When he realizes, he almost panics, and Thomas has to calm him down before he spirals. He doesn't fully apologize until the next video, the Q & A.

LOGAN: Maybe we can help you with something in order to make up for mistakes one might have made prior?

In Growing Up, he and Roman talk over Patton and try to convince Thomas to live an entirely different life for the sake of "growing up." It's Logan who realizes something is wrong, and it's Logan who goes to ask someone about it.

LOGAN: I don't think...we have this quite right. Morality? What are we doing wrong?

And this is despite his admission later this same episode:

LOGAN: I do not like being wrong.

In Learning New Things About Ourselves, Logan champions that Thomas needs to change his life around and get a "real" job because nobody takes him seriously. It's maybe his biggest mistake so far in the series. It angers Roman, alienates Virgil, and contributes to Thomas' harmful mindset about his own value as a content creator. When Logan finally realizes that a more silly and joking medium doesn't mean the ideas aren't important and meaningful, he actually apologizes to Roman. In his own roundabout way.

LOGAN: All right, maybe there's some knowledge out there that I wasn't privy to before. Not that I was wrong! But...I should be open to more sources...I-I don't suppose there's anything that I could do to make it up to you?

In Moving On, Logan suggests they go to Patton's room without realizing that as Thomas is a chronic worrier, nostalgia could have adverse effects on his mental health and his anxiety.

LOGAN: Ugh, such a foolish oversight on my part.

(Logan uses the word 'foolish' a lot when insulting himself or someone else. He uses it to describe Thomas' new hair that makes him feel silly, them turning into puppets, and here, himself. He also uses the term 'ridiculous' multiple times, as well as 'silly,' 'preposterous,' and 'stupid.' Stupid especially is something he apparently hates to be called. But we'll get back to that.)

In Moving On Pt. 2, after Logan leaves in frustration when no one heeds his warnings, he says this line when the other Sides apologize for not listening:

LOGAN: All that matters is how we proceed.

And that basically sums it up. Despite his self-proclaimed "fondness for being told that [he's] right," Logan always owns up to his mistakes and looks to better himself. (Eventually. And it does sometimes require him being called out on it, or he might not realize it is a mistake.)

One of my personal beliefs is that Logan's love language is "acts of service." He struggles with verbal affirmations, as shown in Alone on Valentine's Day when he attempts to say a verbal "I love you." Instead, he expresses care by helping others with their issues and adding knowledge to their discussions. Logan's way of showing appreciation is to be helpful. (Which adds another layer to his frustration when he's ignored--it's literally the people he loves not understanding or outright rejecting his way of showing connection and compassion.)

But yeah. What we've seen is that Logan struggles with verbal apologies for more serious grievances, especially when it includes him admitting he's wrong. But he still attempts them and always says "How do I fix this?" He works to right his wrongs and make things better. As I said above, so much of Logan's drive is to be helpful and to support Thomas. If he fails at this, he tries harder the next time. Sometimes this works, sometimes this doesn't, but being helpful is his end goal and what he defaults to when he feels he's made a mistake.

With all this in mind, let's return to that scene in Learning New Things About Ourselves.

Logan has just made probably his biggest mistake toward another Side. Him and Roman argue a lot, and sometimes Logan strikes at vulnerabilities intentionally or unintentionally, but he has never outright tried to hurt Roman. Until now. Roman calls his love of clarity in communication "stupid." And Logan crumples up his flashcard and throws it at Roman's face.

That itself is an expression of anger that's pretty uncharacteristic for Logan. He usually fights with words, not actual violence. Everyone's shocked. And none more so than Logan himself.

He's made a mistake. He hasn't directly harmed Thomas, but he's hurt one of his friends, and there's no justification for the way he lashed out. And he apologizes easily. But this apology is different from all his others. Let's break it down.

LOGAN: I'm sorry, I don't know what that was. Maybe I should go.

The first part. 'I'm sorry.' A simple, quick apology.

Except we've seen that he struggles with this. He never directly apologizes for anything major in the series, especially not right away. This is something instinctive. It's the same instinct as when he says 'sorry' for popping up too close and hitting Patton in the nose. He's seen a friend get hurt, so he apologizes. It's interesting that he has this same instinct with Patton and Roman, despite the fact that Roman just insulted him and they have a famously strained relationship. He sees he's hurt Roman physically and he apologizes.

(It's also notable that if Logan saw such outward signs of hurt emotionally, he might go a little easier on Roman, but Roman has always been good at hiding his emotions. Logan can't pick up as easily on the subtle things. He needs outward pain, and Roman is practiced in not showing that.)

The second part. 'I don't know what that was.'

This is even more worrying. Logan is admitting he doesn't know something. Logan is saying he doesn't understand why he did something, when he's usually a very rational person. He just acted on emotion. He lashed out in anger. And he doesn't understand that. So he can't even admit his mistake fully, because he doesn't know why it happened--he can't pin it on a lack of information, or an oversight, or not listening to every source. There's no logical way to explain what happened, at least to him. Because he denies that he has emotions and is influenced by them.

Therefore, he's already floundering in this apology. How is he supposed to apologize when he doesn't understand why he did what he did, and how is he supposed to correct a mistake when he doesn't understand why it happened?

This brings us to part three. 'Maybe I should go.'

Take a good look at that. Logan, Logic Sanders, whose whole existence revolves around helping Thomas, is offering to leave an important discussion.

He's committed an error. He's apologized. This is usually when he offers to make things better, to say he won't do this again and that he's learned from his mistakes and asks what he can do to make it up to them. Here, he's found a solution like that: he offers to leave. He says "I have made a mistake, I don't understand what happened, and I'm going to leave so I don't repeat that mistake."

In a horrible way, it's almost logical. If he doesn't understand why he did something, the easiest way to prevent such a thing from reoccurring is to change the situation and prevent himself from physically doing it again. But this is also extremely harmful. Logan has essentially given up on helping Thomas because he hurt his friend and doesn't know how to keep himself from doing it again.

He doesn't know, and that terrifies him.

So he immediately offers to leave. As if that's the most helpful thing he can do to make up for his actions: spare everyone his company. Stop contributing to the discussion, stop helping the person he cares about most, stop expressing his affection and love through helpful facts and encouraging discussions.

This isn't the first or last time that he leaves a discussion. He's done so in anger in both Moving On and Putting Others First, both times motivated by frustration at not being listened to or cared about. But it can be clearly seen that this comes from an entirely different motivation. He's hesitant and afraid of himself and what just happened. Patton yells "No!" right after Logan suggests this, and Logan visibly flinches. And when Patton continues, Logan still looks surprised, as if Patton isn't making any sense.

And after this, Logan is still a little hesitant. He pauses before clarifying "Like Maria?" and after talking about how the Snuffleupagusses (pardon the spelling if it’s incorrect) aren't imaginary, mutters to himself "Clarity" as if he's trying to convince himself of something. That's the same 'clarity' that Roman called him stupid for before. It's as if Logan's asserting his own belief that clarity is important after Roman made him doubt that.

Logan ruffles his hair, takes a deep breath, and that's the end of the scene. But the vulnerability in that moment, right after he hurt someone close to him, is still a rare moment of a Logan who has completely let his guard down. He's almost helpless, because he has no idea what to do. So he defaults to trying to help, and in this moment of uncertainty, he can only picture himself "helping" by leaving.

LOGAN: I'm sorry, I don't know what that was. Maybe I should go.

It's perhaps Logan's most sincere apology to date. However, the baggage it comes with and the situation itself make it less than a perfect moment. Instead, it reveals how unequipped Logan feels to handle his own emotional outbursts, how much he values helping others, and how he's beginning to start feeling like when he messes up, the best thing for everyone is to stay out of the way.

#sanders sides #logan sanders #sanders sides theory #logan sanders angst #logan sanders theory #averywrites #i'm kinda proud of this so rbs are appreciated!!#and feel free to add stuff!!#tw caps

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dennou-translations · 3 years

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Violet Evergarden Ever After: Chapter 1

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Stories end one day once they begin. With that in mind, one might deem clinging to themselves, to other people or to anything else in the world as a little foolish. Same for how fiercely their heart was burning. Or how it cried for these things. It would all disappear like a dream eventually. One could think that even just putting in some effort was meaningless. Yet it had started.

Born through some sort of cue, anyone would breathe. Open their eyes. Learn to let out their voice. Figure how to walk. Come to understand what love was. Receive affection. Find out that it was a sickness, and either stop or give continuity to it. Nobody was taught how to cure it. There were also those who never even once accepted it from anyone.

Whatever the case, no one was allowed to stop for as long as they were part of this story, of this world. While living, people would be continuously be involved with death. But if morning came, night would also follow. Hunger would abate and sleep would invite one to the floor. Even after losing love, people craved for it. With its eyes cast down to forfeit, the world gradually emitted a new shine. Manifestation of beauty and hideous collapses were in progress at the same time. There was no eternity, but things went on. The story would continue. The world would go round. Even if it would meet its end one day.

Even without you there, morning would come.

Blue eyes opened.

Purple flower petals fluttered gently in front of her eyes and passed her. They touched her as if to cause tickles, and then disappeared. The illusions of the past that had been surfacing dissipated slowly.

Her wild beast self and her named self. All of the past dissolved into reality, dragged back into the present. Here, there was neither a beast nor the man that it used to call “Major”.

The boat lethargically moved through a large river, an Auto-Memories Doll on it. The rowing of the boater, who wore a big hat, was quite something. For it to cause a chance meeting between her and her past, that had to be a good boater.

The girl, Violet – Violet Evergarden – was looking for someone.

Whenever she opened her eyes, she would wind up doing it. Looking for the person who had given her as much as he could give and then vanished. Looking for the person that she had hurt as much as she could hurt and not managed to protect.

Of course, he was nowhere in sight. There was no way he would be in such a place. She knew it. However, she would end up searching. Her most beloved lord had supposedly died long ago, yet she would find herself searching for him. Even an apparition would do; she only wanted to see him at least one more time.

The world he was gone from had livened up anew and its colors were vibrant. Violet had to live in said world. She had to live in this fresh hell. She could no longer receive orders. Neither could she chase after his back. There were limits to what she could do.

It was easy for people to tell her to move on. However, that was a great difficulty for her. Violet had been told to live. Just as ordered, without attempting to die, she was living while burdened with this difficulty.

“Miss, what is it you’re looking for?”

At that time, Violet was still not a full-fledged human.

The Rose and the Auto-Memories Doll

“Wait,” I prayed.

The dark red ribbons tying her golden hair. The pleats on her white ribbon-tie dress. The light blue umbrella. As if playing around, all of these things fluttered in the wind.

——Wait for me.

It was hard to breathe. Flowers from the jacaranda trees were blocking my field of vision. Their beauty erased everything that could be seen. Yet they were nothing but a hindrance now. What I yearned for wasn’t them.

——Please, wait for me.

Tears welled up. I didn’t know whether they were tears of sadness, relief or frustration.

I didn’t understand anything anymore. What was I doing? I didn’t know. Surely, I had never known. I didn’t even know that I was hurting.

——Wait.

If there was one thing I knew, it was that I wanted her to take me away from here.

“Violet, wait.”

That was all.

——So please, wait up; don’t leave me behind.

It was spring. When it came to the four seasons, spring was surely the best one.

I first met her at a time when lilac blossoms were in bloom. Lightly, nimbly, they fluttered down. It was a season where purple flower petals danced in the sky. Spring. A season of sprouting.

What color came to people’s minds when they talked about spring, I wondered. It was probably a different one depending on where each of them lived. Pink cheery blossoms were scattered around higher lands. I had heard that bougainvillea flowers dyed a certain region in pure white. Apparently, the sight of green stems stretching out from within the snow thaw was the face of spring in some places. As for me, when the topic was spring, it had to be jacaranda trees.

The Jacaranda River was located among the mountains of the d’Arthur Region at southwest of the continent. It was a large river surrounded by steep mountains that rose like giants. Bearing the same name, jacaranda trees were planted along said river as if to enclose it, and during the flowering seasons, the color of the water surface would turn violet.

Ordinary trees had their branches, fruits and leaves pointed downward, but jacaranda flowers grew pointing upward, almost like a hand holding a bouquet. Just one of those flowering trees was already a feast to the eyes, so it was simply magnificent when there were many of them together. The sky was blue; the earth was a cloud of purple. Even God would easily let out a sigh when looking down at this scene from the heavens.

There were countless small communities in the vicinities of the Jacaranda River, and in order to go from the outside to a piece of land that had a settlement on it, one basically had to move by boat. Hence why it was so easy for the people who lived in this neighborhood to become sailors as a job. The pay, in contrast, was not so rewarding, but not to the point of making anyone go hungry. People coming from other places would gather into crowds to see the jacaranda trees during springtime and there was demand from the locals even outside of the busy seasons. So I would continue on my job here forever and never lose it.

In this world, inside this little story of mine, I had an encounter with her.

“Excuse me; I heard that there is a village beyond this point. Is it possible to cross the river?”

A foreign object appeared in that tiny world of mine.

“Hello. Yes, I go there often. This is how much it costs and the payment is in advance.”

Her name would eventually roar throughout the business, but at this time, she was a ghostwriter girl who had barely started to travel the world.

“I do not mind. It will be my pleasure.”

“We usually put the names of the customers on an account book. May I have your name?”

That was how she and I met.

“It is Violet Evergarden.”

To be honest, she was the kind of person who could cause people’s time to stop in fascination for a brief moment. This ferry port was crowded in spring. There were many other people around, so of course, I could spot several beautiful men and women who showed up for sightseeing, but she was unlike any of them. No matter what background was behind her, she would only be a strange object in it. Be it rainy or sunny days, winter or spring days. Regardless of whatever the world was clad in, one would find their eyes going towards her. Beauty was not the only reason for it. Her scent was different from that of other living things.

——It’s similar to the feeling I got... when seeing a deer in the mountains for the first time.

Right, a wild beast. She was like a beautiful wild beast. If such a stunning beast appeared in front of anyone’s eyes all of a sudden, they would surely stare fixatedly at it. This one had blue eyes and its mane was golden.

“Please treat me well.”

“Ah, yes.”

Her voice was clear, her gestures elegant.

“Is there anything wrong with my appearance?”

“No, no; not at all. Nothing at all.”

She was full of mysteries that other people would not be allowed to touch so easily.

Her outfit might also be at fault. She was well-dressed in a way that one wouldn’t see around this area. A Prussian-blue jacket, a white ribbon-tie dress and cocoa-brown boots that could be deemed as brand-new. An emerald brooch shone radiantly over the ribbon tie. I had but one toy similar to her when I was a child. That young woman was literally just like a doll. On top of it, even the name I asked for matched her lovely looks, to the point I felt like humming without thinking.

“Ms. ‘Violet Evergarden’. All... right. Now, if you please.”

It was a good name. Like an actor’s. I had never watched a play or anything of the sort, though.

“Thank you very much for your patronage today. I am the safest operator around here. Boater Valentine.”

Once the name was written down and the fare was received, my work began.

The customers would be hesitant when getting on the boat regardless of whether they were men or women, but Violet differed from them. She got on it without a sound, quickly sat down and postured herself in waiting for me to start rowing.

Whatever thoughts she was engrossed in, she quietly closed her eyes after taking a glance at the scattering jacaranda flowers. It was a day of warm sunlight and pleasant wind, so she might have become sleepy. The comfortable silence continued for a while. I thought about leaving her alone, but perhaps because the petals that rode on the wind and flew about had tickled her cheeks, she opened her blue eyes. The scenery of earlier was not supposed to be any different, yet she looked left and right as if searching for someone.

“Miss, what is it you’re looking for?”

As I asked so, Violet moved her neck with a twitch like a small animal and looked my way. After a short moment, the answer came in a low voice with an “it is nothing”. She seemed a bit dispirited.

She looked like an uncommunicative person, so I did think she might not go along with a boater’s talk, but wanting a change in mood, I kept on speaking, “Miss, you are in luck. Now is the best time to view them. The jacarandas.”

“Is that so?”

She was kind of a weird girl. Her manner of speech was weak in emotion.

“For me, this is the time to make money. When this period passes, people stop coming to this remote region. This is my main occupation, but many people do boat rowing as a side-job too. When spring is over, they do farming. Miss... it does not seem that you are here for sightseeing. Is it for work?”

“Yes.”

“Is it a job related to boats?”

“No.”

“My, wrong guess. You don’t get scared of the swaying, so I thought you were used to it.”

“Is that how it looks?”

After we spoke that much, Violet finally stopped searching and moved her gaze towards me.

“You do. It feels like you have no fears.”

Silence drifted about. Rather than ignoring me, she seemed to be having difficulty choosing her words.

Until this mysterious beauty spoke up, I was smoothly cutting the surface of the water with the oar. Maybe due to her baggage being heavy, the propelling was slower than I had predicted. She was a slim young woman no matter how I looked at her, so her luggage was probably the one to blame for the rowing’s bad flow. Come to think of it, a low screeching sound ensued whenever she moved. She might have some sort of manufactured item on her.

“You are right. I have been with the navy before, so...”

Oops, the conversation was back.

“Is your family from the military?”

“No, just me. My military service record was ultimately the army. But before the army... the person that I served was a navy officer.”

The reply was covered in enigmas. Her profile was cold. The way she talked was perfectly fitting of a mysterious beauty.

I thought this strange client was a little scary, but let out my curiosity just a bit more. I had never gone outside of these lands, so I loved chatting with the customers.

“I can’t believe it. To think that someone like you used to be a soldier...”

She had no idea what the description “like you” represented. This impression showed through just slightly in her facial expression.

I rode with many people, so I sort of had my own theories about them. I felt like students from renowned schools would make this into a laughingstock if I were to call it a “philosophy”, but... people communicated the actual state of their emotions through the blinking of their eyes, the way they opened their mouths, the highs and lows of their voices and other such things.

They were extremely scarce in this girl, but I could perceive them. Seriously. I was an expert at “observing” others.

“Do you get troubled when people coax you or something like that?”

As I asked out of curiosity, Violet once again had a question mark over her face, but after a while, she blinked as if to say, “I have arrived to an answer for the inquiry” and gave me an unexpected reply. “In my travels, I am sometimes invited by people to become their bodyguard after saving them. I am an Auto-Memories Doll, so I decline them politely,” she said.

I was asking in a romantic sense, so that could not be considered an answer to my question.

What a strange doll. What an odd girl.

——My life would be wonderful if I were born with these looks.

On first meetings, one’s eyes would go to people’s physical appearance first and foremost. Everyone had a preferred type of face, right? I accidentally ended up comparing hers to mine.

Perhaps as I was always wearing a big straw hat so that my skin wouldn’t be damaged by sunburns, my hair was squashed. Even if I took off the hat, the platinum-blond color could get me mistaken for a grizzly old man. Other girls of the same age as me sparkled so much, and yet, just what was I? Being in the same space as them was embarrassing... No, let’s leave what the eyes could see aside. I should serve the customer; serve the customer.

“Beautiful here, isn’t it? These are jacaranda flowers.”

“‘Jacaranda’...”

“Ah, they sell fruits on that boat over there. Want to buy any?”

“No.”

“Do I talk too much? Ah, look! That bird is very rare. Can you tell it has the color of emeralds? It’s called ‘gemstone bird’. The feathers they drop are my treasures.”

“It is beautiful.”

“I think so too! I might get along well with you. What do you usually do to pass the time?”

During my and Violet’s short boat-riding trip, she told me the following:

She worked for a certain postal company from a military nation in the far south named Leidenschaftlich.

She was a newbie Auto-Memories Doll there.

Through her current commission, it was her first time coming to these lands.

Before arriving here, she drove two groups of bandits away.

She was told by her boss to bring him local specialties of this area as souvenir.

That was it. She had many stories about her boss.

“So the president and employees are close in your company, huh.”

“Is that so... No, you are right. Our company has just barely been built and there are few employees. If the number of unit members is small, the distance between them and the commander naturally grows shorter. Yes, to someone like me, whose origins are unknown, he is a compassionate person.”

“You don’t have to talk like that about yourself...”

“It is true. I am an orphan and do not know where I was born.”

I added “orphan” to the information about Violet that I had inside me. The things that had happened to this person dictated the air about her, I thought. Was that the reason why she seemed somewhat lonely?

“But now I have people who look after me.”

“Your boss.”

“Yes. And a kind elderly couple as well.”

“Aah, good for you. Being alone is sad. If you have someone to be with, that’s better. So you used to be in the military but you’re not a soldier anymore now that the war ended. You got yourself a new job and family, is what you’re saying.”

“Yes.”

“You’re sailing smoothly!”

“No.”

Even though I expressly tried to conclude it with good vibes, it was denied.

“I have many problems.” There was a slight creasing between Violet’s eyebrows. “I don’t yet know if I have the aptitude to be an Auto-Memories Doll... I was given a lady’s education and I have studied languages and other such things, but it is hard to say whether or not I can make effective use of that. I have retained the fighting power... but I am in a state where I do not know how to use it.” The tone of her voice faded a little at the end.

“How are you working like that now?” I asked purely out of concern. After all, she was an Auto-Memories Doll.

I came across all sorts of clients, but she was my first Auto-Memories Doll one. It was a job in which people used ghostwriting as their weapon and rushed around the world. I heard there were many women in that occupation, but I never thought a girl as old as me would be doing it. She could very well be writing for a princess from some other country while I was here, rowing a boat.

“Letters have standard sentences. In most cases, if we add the desired content to those standard sentences that we have memorized, they will take form.”

“Hm, hm, I see.”

“However, it cannot be said that letter you wished to write so much to the point of requesting an Auto-Memories Doll was achieved with this. If we cannot correspond to the expectations, we are failures as tools. Therefore, we are once entrusted with the request’s contents, suggest a few types of details, choose the best ones and accept additional demands, should there be any... then repeat. There are also times when my abilities are not enough...”

“You mean contents you can’t write?”

“Any sort of letter can be shaped to a certain extent as long as there is time. It is a combination, after all. However, I am not well-versed in the art of conversation that entertains people. I am told that I am ‘boring’ or ‘unfriendly’ and am often dismissed by the clients.”

She somewhat convinced me. I was terribly sorry for that. But it might indeed be difficult for someone to feel like composing a letter in a fun way with her. If they were hiring her for serious contents, that was a different story.

“Moreover, we normally have to understand the circumstances that our clients are in... Let’s see; it is similar to, for example, approaching someone who is injured. I am supposed to write such letters, but I do not yet understand what a good letter is. It is hard for me to say that I can manage it... In the end, I do not know if I have aptitude to be an Auto-Memories Doll. I am always asking myself whether or not it is all right for me to work in these conditions.”

Perhaps due to thinking a tad too hard, Violet said something incomprehensible – that “it would be much more efficient if our company’s president became an Auto-Memories Doll”. Wasn’t a president supposed to take care of the management?

But, surely... for Violet to be saying something like that about him, he had to be the kind of person who excelled at being considerate.

With the flow of the conversation, I tried asking what I was most interested in, “W-What do you do about love letters and the like?”

“Love letters?”

“Yes.”

It was a field of great concern for someone who had never had any sort of relation with it since birth.

“That is also a combination. You throw in verses from famous poems or songs... Classic romance novels are valuable reference materials as have quite a lot of rhetoric.”

As I received an answer much more direct than I had imagined, almost like boiled vegetables with no taste but their own, my shoulders dropped. I had expected her to reply that she used her own love experiences as reference, but Violet was an extremely serious bookworm. I was a bit ashamed of myself.

I then started the conversation over, “Must be hard that your first job is kind of all about stuff you’re not good at.”

As I said so, Violet dropped her gaze and spoke, “No, we have a bright female Auto-Memories Doll who is the complete opposite of me, so she is put in charge of cases like the ones I just mentioned. In contrast, a large number of transcription cases that are not letters but instead invoices and contract documents, or that require fast writing, come to me. Describing exactly what I see is my field of expertise.”

“I see; it’s a matter of having the right person in the right place. Your boss’s administration is good. So you’ve been managing it one way or another until now.”

“Yes. But this is my first business trip for ghostwriting.”

“F-First!” I accidentally let out a loud voice.

“Yes, my first.”

This girl was on her first ghostwriting business trip. I was sending her on a boat for that. It somewhat felt like I was involved with an awfully grandiose story, which made my heart race.

“Gets you nervous, doesn’t it?” I sought for agreement, but the one feeling nervous was me. “Will you be okay?”

But Violet did not seem to be okay.

“On ghostwriting business trips, the task is to finish it on the spot, and you must respond immediately. I cannot use the means that I have been using until now, such as taking time to write or securing time by cutting sleep and eating short.”

That may have been the reason for her aspect of weariness. Still, I was shocked. When we, boaters, did not want to take our boats out, we would refuse rides even if there were clients. It was a job where we had to have customers, but we decided the discretion on our own. I did not let the ones with a bad attitude on my boat ever again even if they asked. Above all, not eating was impossible. No one could row a boat if they were hungry or sleepy.

“You have to eat... Isn’t that the most important? And you have to sleep too!”

“The most important is accomplishing my missions.”

I could somewhat understand why this girl’s boss was so concerned about her. Since she was an ex-soldier, she was unable to get used to a peaceful life, and the job she had earned required a variety of emotions that did not fit her, so she was competing with knowledge and effort to make up for it. Talk about dangerous.

“But taking care of your health is also part of work.”

Violet cast down her golden eyelashes. What I said probably made her think.

“As I thought, I was better off as a soldier,” she whispered this bit by bit, out of the blue. As she caressed her emerald brooch, she fixed on it a stare that seemed to be burning.

“How come?”

“When I was in the military... all I had to do was chase after one person and protect him. I was always searching for an adult to follow.”

How was I supposed to describe this girl?

“I found myself the best master of all and used to live my life serving him.”

Rather than sincere, she was too candid. Almost like, yes, a child who knew nothing.

“It would have been great if it were like that forever.”

That was why, most likely...

“So he was someone important to you.”

...she honestly thought as much.

“More than anything.”

Her words probably held no lies.

“That’s good.”

She truly was currently apart from someone important to her and losing heart.

“But the war ended and everything changed. Things are different now. I have been separated from my master, and I must journey around the world all by myself with words and pens as my weapons.”

My country was a prosperous land that had not involved itself with the Continental War. Ever since I was born, I had never once enlisted. I had nothing to respond to her statements. That even though I had nosily asked so many questions – what a person I was.

“Erm... hum, can I say something?”

I wanted to cheer her up. But I had no idea how.

As I faltered, Violet shook her head. “I am sorry...”

She started apologizing for some reason, making me even more confused.

“I spoke too much. Forgive me for... tainting your ears.”

“Why? You didn’t do that at all.”

“I am told not to talk in too much detail about my history.”

“I-Isn’t it okay, though?”

“I must do as told.”

“But—”

“My deepest apologies. I said things that could disrupt you while you are in the middle of work.”

“B-But—”

“My deepest apologies.”

“Isn’t it okay?! You and I are just a customer and boater who can’t see each other anywhere but here!” again, I spoke loudly on accident.

I became a bit flustered. After all, she was apologizing. Even though she was just answering my insistent questions. Even though she was burdened with so much that she wound up unintentionally spilling it to a stranger like me.

“After you get out of this boat, we have no way of knowing what will happen to each other. So please never mind it.”

It was because I asked so persistently that the things she had been holding overflowed.

“It’s all good.”

There was something I could say exactly because I was a boater of a remote region.

“It’s all right,” I affirmed strongly, wanting to do something about those wavering eyes and her aspect of uncertainty. I might have been huffing fiercely too.

Violet looked at me with a gaze that looked like she had just woken up from a dream. And then she nodded with a meek face. “Yes.” Even though she had just nodded once, after a few tens of seconds later, she nodded again while saying, “Yes.”

After that, we eventually reached the shore without talking much.

From what I had heard, Violet’s patron was Mr. Lockhart, an elderly man famous for being rich even within his community. He was already quite old, so it was said that he did not have long.

“You go straight down the road. You should be able to see the village after a while, and Mr. Lockhart’s mansion is the one on highest ground. It has a white roof. The neighbor houses are all extravagant too, so don’t mistake it.”

“All right.”

“On the way back! If you also feel like going back together, look for me!”

“Yes, Mr. Valentine.”

Perhaps because I had asked for it, Violet actually did look for and called out to me as her ride for the way back. Maybe as I had listened to her life story, it kind of did not feel like we were strangers anymore.

After I intimidated and dispersed the other boatmen trying to take her as their customer, I asked, “How was the job? Did it go well?”

“I do not know.”

Silence.

“At first, he yelled at me, then crumpled the letters I wrote into balls one after another and tossed them away.”

“That’s horrible.”

“But once I presented improvement suggestions twenty-three times, he said he had ‘been defeated by my persistence’ and accepted the ghostwriting.”

“Ms. Violet, you actually have a strong competitive spirit, don’t you?”

Later on, according to what I had heard from people of his neighborhood, Mr. Lockhart was a mean geezer who, apparently high-strung from fighting against a disease, would hire people in order to bully them into quitting. My goodness. He was the type of person whom I would not want to associate myself with even once, so I guessed the fact that Violet would not have to deal with him anymore after just this one time was a blessing in disguise.

However, a few months thereafter...

“I will be ghostwriting a letter to Mr. Lockhart’s grandchild for a few months.”

...she showed up again holding a travel bag in one hand and reunited with me. Our interactions continued from that point onward.

I did not know what to name my involvement with Violet. We were not friends. We only ever met due to occupational matters and I never saw Violet other than when she came over for work.

“How did things go after that? Is business going well? We’re in the off season now, so I’m pretty free.”

“It seems that people of the postal industry are seeking not to take work away from those of the same line of business. We, Auto-Memories Dolls, usually receive work from the area surrounding our companies, but the number of business trips is increasing. However, it is hard to say if we are on track. Our president looks over his account book every day.”

As we were both from the hospitality businesses, we had worries in common. So I was also happy.

“My wallet gets really empty in the off season too. Well, I can live just fine with the amount I save up in spring... but I have to find a different job when I want something pricey.”

“A different job. Mr. Valentine, for how many years have you been a boater?”

I reminded myself of my ordinary life’s number of years and work history inside my head.

“Erm, I’ve been rowing for two years. But before that, I was something like a handyman, working in an orchard, taking care of other people’s babies, doing cleaning and washing, running errands and being an apprentice at a restaurant’s kitchen.”

“That is a wide variety.”

“My family’s poor. Dad and Mom are gambling addicts too... We’re so poor that we can’t survive without all of us working. I was eight when they told me I had to get a job because our finances weren’t going well.”

“That is commendable for someone so young.”

“No, Ms. Violet, you’re probably as old as me, right? Eh, how old are you?”

Perhaps she and I really did have a karmic connection, as I was always working whenever she came to these lands.

“Ms. Violet! If it isn’t Ms. Violet...!”

“Mr. Valentine. I was looking for you.”

“M-Me?”

“Yes. You told me to ask for you the first time we rode. I did this last time as well. Will you take out your boat today?”

“Of course! C-Can I ask again? You were looking for me?”

“Yes.”

“I’m so happy! Same for me! I wonder every day if you’re coming anytime soon... Now, now, customer! Please get onto the boat! Go ahead, go ahead. I have tons of things I want to tell you! I see~! So you were looking for me~!”

“Yes, I was.”

The air about her was like that of a tensely stretched thread, yet as time went by, she became able to show different facial expressions.

“You can’t smile?”

“No. I cannot say I have complaints about it, but... I receive such opinions from the clients quite frequently. For now, I am making physical attempts on it. Mr. Lockhart often lifts my cheeks. He tells me to practice. Yet... it does not work very well.”

“That old man is teaching you weird stuff... It’s the first time I’ve ever seen someone pick their cheeks up to form a smile.”

“Mr. Valentine... you excel at smiling. Do you have any trick for it?”

“Eh~, I’m just being carefree.”

“That is difficult for me.”

“Hm~, but that’s a secret of success.”

“‘Secret of success’...”

“This place is a dock, after all. For a kid like me to be working among men, I at least have to be good at acting friendly, or else I can’t survive.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. That’s why this is something I’ve ingrained in me. Ms. Violet, you’re an ex-soldier, aren’t you? You couldn’t be carefree in the battlefield, so there is no helping that, right?”

“But... that has nothing to do with my clients.”

“Hm~, trying to be better is never too much, but from my standpoint as someone who is also in the hospitality business, I don’t think that is completely indispensable. We give the clients what they seek and they pay the fee. It is essentially this kind of equal relationship. You do not have to abase yourself more than necessary. Customers naturally come to people that do a fine job even if they are unsociable.”

“Is that so...?”

“It is. Someone who instead is friendly but can’t do the job at all is a problem. The fact that you became Mr. Lockhart’s purveyor means you write good letters. It seems he is very particular about his own matters. Y’know, you’re fit for people like that.”

“If so, that is good.”

“Don’t make that face. Shall I lift your cheeks?”

The things we had to talk about with each other whenever we met increased exactly because we were far apart from one another.

“Speaking of which, you are looking for someone, right? Did you find any clues?”

Our respective circumstances slipped in and out of sight.

“No...”

“But Auto-Memories Dolls have to go to all sorts of places, so there is still hope.”

“Yes. I also think that is the good point of being an Auto-Memories Doll.”

“That so...? Ms. Violet, did you choose to be an Auto-Memories Doll to search for someone?”

“No, perhaps I should say it is wishful thinking. I do not truly believe that I can find him. However...”

By that time, I had realized what the brooch was.

“...I can keep on living while thinking ‘what if’. That is the kind of job it is.”

That it was something related to the important person she had mentioned.

“Is that so...?” while speaking with a laidback voice, I incidentally thought about what that would be in my case.

What was I attached to enough that I would be this obsessed over it?

“You’re the opposite of me. I’m waiting for my family here.”

——If I do have any of that, it’d be the boat my dad used to ride.

“Do you live far away from each other?”

——The house that we all lived in together.

“Huuum... How should I put it? I was sent out to a different town for domestic service when I was eight... and I was completely convinced that my parents and older brother were living here.”

None of what I was attached to was things that could remain in my grasp. It was this land itself.

“When I came back, there was only our house. My family wasn’t in it.”

It was not something I could walk around with.

“They might’ve moved somewhere else... because they hated life here.”

Violet did not frown or make a puzzled face. She just quietly lent me an ear.

“I ran away from the place where I was doing domestic service, so I guess I missed their notice. I think they are troubled now. That they are looking for me. I also want them to come pick me up, but they never do...”

I myself understood. I knew I was saying odd stuff. Weird, wasn’t it? I was aware. If she called me crazy, it would be just the expected.

“Mr. Valentine, should you not be looking for them?”

That question gouged out just a little bit of the weakest part of my heart. Yes, just a little. It pierced me exactly because the person who asked it had stood up from her suffering and was running onward.

“If I leave this place, it’d be a problem...”

But Violet did not say I was wrong at all.

“It be a problem if, by any chance, my brother – no, either Dad or Mom decided to come back...”

She merely whispered a single sentence: “understood”.

Before I realized, I had started looking for her at the dock.

——Is she coming today? Not yet? She might come tomorrow.

“It’s been a while...! Has anything changed? We got to meet again because Mr. Lockhart is still alive, huh.”

“It has. Just that the personnel at my workplace increased again. Mr. Lockhart’s voice is so lively when he is angry that one would not imagine he has a disease. Mr. Valentine, what about you...?”

“Y’see, I’ve been going to study lately! I was influenced by you. I can read easy words, but I never went to school, so I’m bad at writing.”

“I could not write either. However, it should be all right as long as you practice.”

“I don’t have enough paper to practice writing, so I’ve been writing on the ground with a stick these days.”

“If you wish, please use these.”

“Eh, what are those? T-They look expensive. I can’t.”

“I also received paper and pens from someone just like this and began my studies. You can.”

“N-No can do! I can’t get something like that from my customer...!”

“You can.”

As the seasons passed, as the days and months went by, her aspect of anxiousness from when we first met diminished. She steadily built up a record of accomplishments as an Auto-Memories Doll.

“That umbrella is cute. It looks good with your clothes.”

“It is a gift. I also... find it adorable.”

“Is that a passionate request for a relationship from your client?”

“No, that is not it. This is a display of gratitude for my work from Mr. Oscar, the novelist...”

Much faster than I had imagined, yet surely, she was elegantly climbing up that brilliant stairway.

“Heeh, a novelist. I don’t know much about him, but that’s amazing. You might be working at some royal palace one of these days!”

“I have.”

“Eh?”

“I have. I wrote love letters on behalf of a princess from a country named Drossel.”

She became someone well-known around the neighborhood in no time.

How should I describe her vigor? Was “forceful enough to knock down birds in flight” too weird? She was an irresistible force that people were drawn to en masse. Somehow or other, she made a great leap in a blink of life.

Her popularity attracted more popularity, and it was amazing that her work had developed so much. There were such people at the dock too, but this could not be achieved without effort. But it did not look like there were ambitions or dreams to Violet’s efforts. Dream chasers had different eyes than ordinary people. She... her blue eyes were as quiet as a midwinter sea no matter in what season I peeked into them.

Her gaze made it seem like she was looking at me from a different world. As if she were staring up at everything from the bottom of the ocean. Yes, it was that kind of look.

She was there, yet was not. Her blue eyes were mirrors that made me feel like I was looking at myself before realizing it, when I was supposed to be looking at her. She herself was also this sort of person, with an attitude as if her mind was elsewhere.

Her fame... if I were to use a metaphor, she was a broken doll who got praised as a result of single-mindedly working on repeat. That was how it seemed in my eyes. Awful way of saying it, huh? But the Violet Evergarden I had first met had been hurt. She was just a hurt girl.

So I was honestly surprised. Because, at first, she didn’t look at all like a girl who would rush up into Auto-Memories Doll stardom from that point. Yes, she did not.

That might be due to the way we met. If I had met the current Violet instead, I would surely have thought, “Such a full-fledged Auto-Memories Doll”. But although she was indeed an eccentric girl, she did not look like that to me. To me... To me, she looked like nothing but a girl from the same generation as myself, stagnated in a world that she was tossed into. An uneasy girl, who had just started working. The type that definitely could be found anywhere all around the world.

One that was also similar to me. From that day, at that time.

“Dad, Mom, Big Bro, where are you?”

She was like me back when I was at a loss as I decided to live by myself.

With the passing years, Violet Evergarden had bloomed to the world into a marvelous lady before I even knew. Just as her name suggested, she was a girl who had blossomed beautifully.

No matter what, I ended up comparing her with myself... Even though we were reuniting after a long while, even though I was happy, I felt too sad for some reason and wound up saying lots of lame things.

“Ms. Violet... you kind of became an unreachable person all of a sudden, huh.”

It was because, even though I had supposedly lived just like her in the same four seasons and the same time that she had rushed through, I was still an insignificant boater.

“My company is still based in Leidenschaftlich, just as before.”

“No, I wasn’t talking in terms of physical distance. It’s... a spiritual thing.”

Silence.

“You really are admirable. You know, when I think that you’re doing such an amazing job while I’m here, boating without a care in the world... it’s like...”

“Mr. Valentine, you are also working every day.”

“It’s not like boating is a bad job or anything.”

I also didn’t think there was high or low when it came to occupations. Yet I would end up comparing them.

“I quite enjoy it. Rowing the boat, that is. But somehow... like... when I look at you, Ms. Violet... I think of myself. I wonder if I’m okay like this. Because surely, there should be something else I want to do.”

Silence.

“If only I could change myself too...”

“Mr. Valentine.”

“Yes?”

“I felt that we have become closer than back when we first met.”

“Eh?”

I was in shock. Because I thought she wasn’t the kind of person to say something like that.

What did people call this?

“It became a habit for me to look for you immediately around here.”

Those words that were almost as if someone was nestling close to you.

“As you have let me on countless times, you have been recorded within me.”

No, that wasn’t it. It wasn’t that she didn’t say those things – she couldn’t say them. After all, Violet had told me when we first met. That she couldn’t write letters that felt like approaching someone who was injured.

“I see.”

She had been worried that she should leave it to someone else; that she wasn’t qualified.

“Have we become far apart?”

Yet she had become able to do it. By practicing a lot. Involving herself with people.

“Mr. Valentine, you always find me as well. Whenever I arrive here, instantly.”

This girl had become able to do what she was worst at.

“Yep.”

But even now, it didn’t change that she would touch her emerald brooch when she was uncertain.

“Have we...”

“We haven’t...! Sorry. I’m sure I could spot you even if we passed each other in a different city... Sorry, it’s just... wrong. I was wrong...”

Violet had grown up.

“Sorry...”

That day, when we first met, she had been fretting about being able to write letters that could draw close to someone. Having nurtured her heart through many people and a lot of time, she was now even able to say these kinds of things. This girl was properly fighting against the fate that she had been granted.

Aah, I wanted to be like Violet Evergarden.

I wanted to be like this girl. I really did.

I was still young. I could start over anywhere else. But I did not do that. I couldn’t throw away my family. I couldn’t. Ever thought about throwing your family away?

I... I had never.

Because it was family. People I shared my blood with. We were supposed to be together, right? Parents protecting their children and children yearning for their parents – that was the norm, wasn’t it? When I looked around me, that was what people were doing. Was it all lies?

Why, why didn’t my family manage to be normal? Why was normal so difficult for me? Because I was stupid?

I had gone to a stranger’s place when I was eight years old because my parents had told me to. I went with them as my parents said, “Go with this person to help them out; you’ll get payment for it”. I had the feeling that my parents had been smiling. My brother was the only one who had a serious look – no, he was making a face like he was about to cry as he pulled the sleeve of my clothes over and over. He used to be such a scary brother who was quick to hit me on the head and scold me, but only at that time did he exhaust himself from crying.

“You can’t, okay? Listen to what your Big Bro says. You can’t go to that place,” he had told me.

I remember being extremely perplexed. I only had the impression that my brother was always angry and hungry. He never behaved like he cherished me or anything of the sort. Honestly, I used to hate him.

“But they’ll be angry if I don’t do as they say.”

So I had shaken off the hands that were grasping my sleeve. The expression my brother had back then – those eyes looked like everything in front of him had transformed into rubble.

My brother had said one last time with a tearful voice, “Hey, you can’t; please... don’t go. I won’t hit you anymore, ‘kay? ‘Kay?”

Even so, I had not agreed. Because I was afraid that my parents would get mad.

I hadn’t seen my brother since. Thinking back on it now, he might have actually had affection for me.

As for my parents, had that been something they couldn’t avoid? I still didn’t know. But to put it bluntly, they had sold me.

It was not something so unusual. This area was remote, rural and still rooted in such customs. That might still be my case even now. I was living in a land I had once left, disguised so that no one would know it was me. It would be terrible if I were sold by someone again. So I had made myself up. An unknown boy who had showed up out of nowhere. An outsider who had arrived before anyone knew it. That was me.

I was a huge moron who couldn’t throw away her family even though they had thrown me away.

I ran away from the place I had been sold to after not even three days and, starting out as a beggar, I had saved up a sum in order to go back home. I did anything, from working at an orchard to taking care of other people’s babies, doing cleaning and washing, running errands and being an apprentice at a restaurant’s kitchen. Anything, as long as I could earn money.

I had been sold off to a pretty far-away place, so it took me a year to come back. I was making merry when returned home. About things being back to how they were before. About how my life had twisted a bit but it was back to how it used to be. My mother would surely be happy. She’d tell me I did a good job coming back home.

So, that was why... I even now vividly remembered the feeling of astonishment I had when I opened the door and the house was deserted.

“Dad, Mom, Big Bro,” I had whispered intermittently into the empty house.

There was no reply.

——Aah, so homes that people no longer live in also die, I thought.

I was the child from that day even now, standing stock-still.

“The hijacking case of the transcontinental train... The one on this picture looks like that girl, but she isn’t, right?”

While reading the newspaper that the customers had left behind as usual, I was relaxing at the dock.

The seasons had passed once again and autumn was about to end. Although the years were growing farther from the spring in which I had first met Violet, yet not a single thing had changed.

“Excuse me, are you doing boat rides?”

“Ah, yes. Thank you very much for your patronage today. I am the safest operator around here. Boater Valentine.”

Today, too, I was rowing a boat. That was all.

I would just wake up in the morning, eat, get the boat out, let the customers onto it, do my job, go back home and sleep. A repetition of that. Without anything special happening, without any wonderful encounters or opportunities, I was merely earning enough to eat and protecting my home. Sometimes, I would find myself thinking that I was the only one living this kind of daily life. I had been working since I was little, so I didn’t know how to play very well, and I had no one who was close to me other than Violet.

Even though Violet wasn’t my friend.

“Mr. Boater. Is there anywhere around here where I can have a meal?”

“There is, once you get on land. It might be unlike anything that someone from the big city such as yourself would eat, though... Now, then, be careful.”

Right. Just as she had once said, our relationship was of a boater and her customer, and we would not meet unless she came here for ghostwriting. She was an amazing person who roamed all around the globe and lived in a world completely different from mine.

While returning to the former shore after sending off the customer, I was thinking to myself. Was my life okay like this? I was here today yet again, without attempting to go to where the person that I wanted to be close to was. Even if I used the entirety of the notebook that Violet had given me, I could not report this to her. Because I couldn’t leave my hometown.

“Mr. Valentine. Hello; it has been a while.”

It was a very beautiful morning that day. Illuminated by the Sun as it emerged from the clouds, drops of the rain that had fallen on the previous night were emitting a transparent shine. The person who had appeared in that stunning world was still a foreign body.

Fall just before winter approached. Violet Evergarden was not wearing her usual doll outfit, instead dressed in black. Black hat, black cape over a black dress, and while the suitcase, umbrella and emerald brooch were the same as ever, everything was pitch-black other than them. She was a black-clad Auto-Memories Doll.

As the wind blew, her clothes seemed to flutter in an unnatural manner on her left arm. The arm was gone. Only one of her arms was missing. She had told me somewhere along the way that they were prosthetics, but when seeing her figure without one of them like this, I felt the loss of it even though it was unrelated to me.

“He-llo... Uh, what’s up with... hum, your arm, your clothes and all that?”

It was almost like that kind of thing.

“You came just a while ago, right? The intervals are really close...”

Almost like someone’s funeral. I had never been to one, but I had observed it from the outside before.

Apparently, my questions had her at loss for a bit. After showing a thinkative countenance as from where to start explaining, Violet put her baggage on the ground and pointed at her left arm with her right hand.

“My arm broke. It is being repaired.”

Her artificial doll-like gestures that I had grown fond of before I realized and her clear voice were now turning into the main causes that made my heart restless.

“I can use the right one without any issues. It is inconvenient, but this will be solved eventually.”

I asked the reason behind it and if she had been involved in some sort of accident. Violet did not tell me the details of her situation. She gave a rare, faint smile, looking troubled.

“In the meantime we had not seen each other, truly, many things happened... However, today is not about me but about someone else. I was told he was famous around here, but have you not heard? He has passed away.”

There was only one person whose funeral Violet would be coming to this land for, dressed in mourning clothes. Her ghostwriting patron, Mr. Lockhart. That old man who people said was going to die, yet had always stayed alive.

“I... I don’t have much interaction with the townspeople... We’ve had heavy rain the past few days... and when I pushed myself to get the boat out, I caught a cold... so I shut myself at home... and didn’t see any of my boatmen friends...”

I came up with reasons one after another as if to give an excuse. Even though I hadn’t done anything bad.

“It seems the funeral is already over. The people from that household contacted me, so I came in a hurry.”

“To visit his... grave?”

“That as well, but I also ghostwrote his will on his own request... and it seems there was a dispute among his relatives when the will was opened. They said they want me to confirm if there was really no mistake in the contents...”

I wondered what in the will had aroused the general criticism. Violet did not tell me, as she could not reveal the contents of her contractor’s letters, but when it came to problems that happened after a wealthy elder died, it had to be the inheritance.

“It simply means that the will is just like Mr. Lockhart. This is all I can say.”

So the mean geezer was mean until the end and then left.

“S-So, Ms. Violet, you’re about to get yourself involved in that big quarrel?”

“Yes.”

“Could it be it’s your last ride on this boat...?”

“Mr. Valentine, if you are still here by then, I shall go back with you as well.”

“I-I’ll be. I won’t take any other customers today and I’ll be waiting for you on the other side of the river!”

“I think I will take very long.”

“That’s okay... I mean—!”

——I won’t get to see you anymore, right?

There was a knot in my throat because of the sadness, so I could not say these words. But I believed they had reached Violet. She said “all right” after a pause.

And so, I sent Violet to the household’s side of the shore. As I had declared, I did not take on other customers, only waited for Violet.

She did say that a lot had happened to her, but if the essence of what she had experienced, which she could only express with that much, was enough for her to lose an arm, then surely there should still be a commotion around her right now. Poor Violet. Honestly, Mr. Lockhart was a client who gave Violet trouble from start to finish.

Still, if it weren’t for that troublesome client, Violet and I wouldn’t have met. We also wouldn’t have had that accumulation of interaction time as the seasons passed.

“You should’ve lived longer,” I whispered selfishly. My pathetic voice was mixed with whining.

I was a horrible person.

To think I would complain about the time that someone I didn’t even know so well should die. But now, my heart felt like it would break. My composure was gone. That was why my tongue was so nasty.

I did predict that we would become unable to see each other one day like this. I did, yet I had thought it would be a gentler end. More different, more...

Yes, one day. One day, just as I had suddenly become unable to see my parents and brother, Violet would stop coming here. But I couldn’t leave this place, so I would keep standing at the dock, thinking that there might be a day where she would come by.

From the viewpoint of other people, they may think this was sad, but to me, it was an ending that still had salvation and hope to it...

I hadn’t imagined that she herself would tell me this was probably the last time. Besides, to think that my chest would feel so tight just because I was no longer going to see a customer that I only saw every now and then.

I was an idiot.

Yes, I wasn’t good in the head. I was sensitive to the subtleties of other people’s emotions despite not bringing them to life in me. Yet I was insensitive when it came to myself, so I was only able to notice things when they started hurting like this.

“I-I...”

Surely, I was all on my own because I was this much of a fool.

“I’m gonna be alone...” the words overflowed from be in a natural manner.

——Be quiet. Don’t cry. It’s like the way you’d cry as a kid.

“Ugh... fu-uh...”

I was happy. That Violet had hired me and would come to ride on my boat.

“I don’t want that... Again... I’ll be...”

I was waiting here. For someone to remember me and come see me. For them to look for me. I was living by expecting nothing but that.

Same for Violet. She was someone from my generation, who had been tossed into the world all of a sudden. She wanted to search for her important person, for him to find her – she was that kind of girl. But she was doing her best to live. She really did her best, without losing to the unreasonableness of life.

As she grew, I saw her shining as an Auto-Memories Doll almost as if it were happening to a different version of myself. The fact she was doing her best was an encouragement. I thought of her as a comrade. Even though we weren’t friends, it felt like we were.

“Big Bro... when are you coming back...”

I was by myself here. So, before I noticed, my encounter with that girl had become salvation in my life. Because we were the same. Because we were both waiting for people who wouldn’t return.

It was okay even if it were just a few times per year. She had remembered and looked for me. To me, just that fact was, aah, so very...

“I am terribly sorry for being so late.”

I had departed with the boat in the morning, and it was past evening when the black-clad Auto-Memories Doll came back. She did not seem tired, but her voice was on the husky side, so she probably had to talk a lot.

“Good job... How did it go?”

I wanted to make it so that she wouldn’t find out that I had been crying, yet my voice was nasal and clearly an after-cry one. Amidst the sunset, Violet looked straight at me.

“Everything is well. Mr. Valentine, are you all right?”

I did not know, so I fell silent.

——I’ll let you on the boat now. And then, it’ll be the end. You won’t come see me anymore. I don’t know if that’s okay, or if I’m okay with it.

“Give me your hand; come on carefully. This is the time when the sunset and the evening are mixed, after all.”

As if to gloss over it, I conducted myself as merely a professional. Violet’s sense of balance was a bit off, perhaps because she only had her right arm. I helped her until she was seated, and then started rowing.

“It is my first time seeing the landscape at this hour.”

I nodded at Violet’s muttering.

Evening at the Jacaranda River was a sight that looked like a scarlet Sun had jumped onto the water surface. Both the sky and the river would paint themselves red, dyed in darkness before one could take notice. The birds cried as if to announce that it was already time to go home, the boatmen pulling out of work and returning to their houses. It was that kind of hour, that kind of scene.

As winter was about to come around, the trees were bare and most of the fallen leaves over the water had even their colors rusting away as well. There was nothing more fitting of a farewell day than such loneliness.

“Mr. Valentine, thank you very much for being here for me until today.”

Violet’s voice sounded softer than usual. Come to think of it, I felt that the air around her had somewhat changed. I had thought it was because of the mourning attire, but looking at her again like this now, I figured that was not it. Would it be an exaggeration to say that it was as if an evil spirit had been removed from her? She was different from before.

“From the start, for now, for always... thank you very much.”

Yes, back then, when we first met, Violet Evergarden was a beautiful wild beast that had been tossed into the world. She was nervous, wary of everything, unstable and acted kind of cold.

“It might be strange of me to be saying this to someone I only ever see here. But to me, Mr. Valentine, the fact that you let me ride on your boat whenever I come by...”

Yet, within a long time, she had gained warmth and transformed from a beast-like girl into an exquisite young woman.

“I... surely, yes, was ‘happy’ about it. I can now finally say so. Even if it is something trivial for you. I... can only meet you here, so when you said that I could talk to you, I was ‘happy’.”

——It’s over.

The scenery was too solitary. My chest tightened at the words she spoke within it.

“I was definitely not suited to be an Auto-Memories Doll. I did not have the gentleness to speak my mind without thinking as you do. However, you affirmed that someone like me had her good points.”

——It’s really over.

“In a world full of denial, it is difficult to affirm anything.”

——This is the end.

“That is what I think. There is much denial in this world. Affirming is difficult. But you did it for me.”

——Please, don’t say any more of these goodbye-like words.

“Thank you very much.”

——Don’t.

“I have one more thing I want to tell you.”

——I don’t want to hear them anymore.

“Mr. Valentine, I found the person I was looking for.”

——Stop.

“I found him. I discovered that there are many people in the world who are looking for someone they can no longer see.”

——My time with you is going on as you speak.

“I was told by many that it was foolish of me to wait for him.”

——My time with you is melting away.

“However, I followed my heart, which I did not even know I had.”

——It’s melting away like the foam on the surface of the water.

“Mr. Valentine, I support you always waiting here for someone from here onwards as well. Even if, by any chance, you decide to stop waiting and venture out of here, I will support this too.”

——I liked this purity of yours, as if you’re reflecting the other person.

“I assert your kindness. Because you asserted mine.”

——By sustaining you, I was able to sustain myself.

I let out a scream. Yes, I was bawling. For me to be crying while rowing, I was disqualified as a boater. But Violet did not judge me.

After wiping my tears with the sleeves of my clothes several times, I began rowing again. I had only ever done anything while crying when I was a child.

“Dad, Mom, Big Bro.”

The time when I went searching, calling each of them, in my hometown by the Jacaranda River felt like it had been just a few days ago.

“Violet, don’t forget me,” I said as I cried, looking like an idiot.

“Yes. Mr. Valentine, you said this would be the last time, but I will pay a visit if I receive any jobs to do nearby.”

“That’s a lie...! Countless of my customers have said that... but nobody... nobody... nobody cares about...”

“I support you. This is no lie.”

“It is... It’s just flattery... I-I was... happy that you never forgot about me... but you soon will...”

The boat arrived at the dock almost as if colliding with it. The impact caused the tears to fall from my eyes like rain.

“Sorry; just go.”

I crouched on top of the boat. Aah, I had to help Violet get down. Night was coming. I should not be stalling in a place like this.

I was just a boater and this girl was just my customer. We would end here. It was over.

“I learned that having someone to accept you is important.”

I had to wipe my tears and see her off.

“Even if you cannot see them all the time. Mr. Valentine, if I was a bother to you, please know this.”

I felt the sensation of the only arm that Violet now had touching my back. I turned away from it.

We had met each other in this severe world. A world that I hated. I also hated my life.

But, aah, my God. Even when such cruel sorrow attacked me like that...

“There is an Auto-Memories Doll somewhere in the world who accepts you. Please be aware of this.”

——...the world is beautiful.

As she added a “that is not a lie”, I felt like I would end up waiting for her who knows how many years with just that sentence, so I found myself smiling. My foolishness and Violet’s kindness – those two things made me both cry and laugh.

At the end, we joined hands like little kids. I helped her out of the boat and did not let go after that.

“So it’s not a lie? You won’t forget me?”

“It is not. I will not. I have good memory.”

“Some-Someday...”

“Yes.”

“If I become someone capable of going to see you someday, will you accept me? Wouldn’t I be a bother? I... Y-Y’know, I... actually wanted to be friends with you. Not just a boater and her customer...”

“Yes, I will.”

“But I can’t right away. I have a family... I don’t, but I do.”

“Yes.”

“But, one day... one day...”

“Yes, one day.”

“Surely, on a really nice day for us to reunite...”

“Yes, it will definitely be a good day.”

“Let’s meet again one day, Violet Evergarden.”

After that, just as Violet had somehow changed, so did I. Just as snow covered the autumn lands, the silver make-up melted down before anyone realized and young leaves sprouted from it, I also changed.

It was during spring that this was decisive. As expected, for one to start something, it had to be in spring.

Purple flower petals scattered down on the Jacaranda River. I was simply looking at the scenery in a daze. The harbor was crowded with customers. Even though I was a boater and there were several customers wanting a ride, I was using the boat only for myself, not letting anyone hop in. Without paying any attention to my fellow boatmen, who stared at me with strange looks, I merely observed the entirety of this landscape, so as to sear it into my eyes.

My beautiful hometown. A hometown of which I only had memories sad enough to pierce through my chest. A hometown where no one would look for me anymore. A hometown that surely none of them would ever come back to.

The fact that Violet would not come this year gave me a sensation akin to waking up from a dream. As if my hazy head was clearing up, such change came to me.

——Let’s throw it away.

It was then that I thought at last.

——I’ll throw my family away.

That was what I thought.

The reason why I was clinging to this place was that my family might come back someday. I had to return, I had to stay here, or else I was sure they would be troubled if any of them came home. Because it had troubled me. It had made me cry. So I should be here, I thought.

Even though they didn’t give me love, I loved my family.

——But I’ll throw it away.

I was finally able to think like that. As I did so, tears poured down.

I had taken a long time to arrive to this decision, which was a merciless one, and I was a horrible person who surely wouldn’t die a peaceful death and would, as expected, keep on living like this, without being loved by anybody.

But I was going to do it. I was going to throw my family away.

After all, even if the people who were supposed to love me did not, she existed in my world. Somewhere in this world, there was an Auto-Memories Doll who accepted me. So instead of waiting for someone who would never come home, I should take a leap. Because I wasn’t an eight-year-old kid anymore and could go anywhere.

I rowed my boat. Not for anyone else. For the sake of going out into my new journey.

What should I do? When I thought about what to do first, as expected, that girl surfaced in the depths of my mind. The girl I had seen off while praying, “Wait for me”.

The dark red ribbons tying her golden hair. The pleats on her white ribbon-tie dress. The light blue umbrella. As if playing around, all of these things fluttered in the wind.

It was okay for me to go looking for them from now. It was okay.

——Wait for me.

My chest was quivering. Starting life anew was common place, but now that it was my turn, I was shaking. It was hard to breathe from the fear and expectations. Flowers from jacaranda trees were blocking my field of vision, and although their beauty erased everything that could be seen, they were nothing but a hindrance now. What I yearned for wasn’t them.

What I wished to see – the purple I wanted to meet once again – was no longer this one.

——Please, wait for me.

Tears welled up. I didn’t know whether they were tears of sadness, relief or frustration. I didn’t know anything anymore. The feeling I had wasted so much of my life and the feeling that I had finally gotten to this point were in conflict.

I didn’t want to abandon my family. I didn’t.

But the truth is that I’d always wanted to. Aah, I was such an idiot, such a confusing one.

That was fine. I didn’t understand myself very well either. I didn’t. I didn’t understand anything anymore. What was I doing? I didn’t know. Surely, I had never known. I didn’t even know that I was hurting.

But there was just one thing.

——Wait.

One thing I knew. When it came to things I knew, there was but one.

That I felt so refreshed I shouted to the world without minding anyone, “Violet, wait for me!”

I was going to see her, so I wished she wouldn’t forget me. That was it.

That was all.

Blue eyes opened.

The train had arrived in the city. While the passengers got off in a hurry, a blue-eyed girl was neatly smoothing down the wrinkles on her ribbon-tie dress before gracefully descending to the platform.

She did not act as if looking for someone or show any signs of losing her way. Her figure as she simply walked straight to her destination was almost like that of a mechanical doll. Surely, she would not do things such as be surprised by something or run towards someone upon finding them. That was how she looked.

The perfectly lady-like girl, however, went completely still in the middle of the crowded platform all of a sudden. Her blue eyes had detected something. Upon finding that person, she blinked as if surprised, and then bolted into a run. The hem of her skirt spread out in disarray. The ribbons keeping her golden hair in place swayed.

As she had started running, the other person also pushed through the crowd and came closer. Three, five, ten steps. She, who had broken into a dash, halted exactly in front of him, yet the other did not.

“Violet, welcome home.”

He held her in his arms and buried his face into her shoulder. Her beloved one, whom she had not seen in a while, tickled her with his nose as he sniffed the scent of her hair. He must have been at the platform for a long time. His cold clothes and his body heat conveyed his desire to see her.

“Major, I am back. I did not know you would come pick me up.”

Having changed from a beast into a person, from a person into a girl and then into someone’s biggest love, Violet accepted the embrace of the other person without resistance.

“I am happy.”

Something gradually rushed through her body. It was the sensation that “joy”, “love” and other such feelings had turned into light and were running from the tips of her toenails to the top of her head.

The young woman who used not to know emotions was now in love.

One could spot other charming lovers here and there. Therefore, even as the Army Colonel of this country, Leidenschaftlich, and an Auto-Memories Doll were hugging each other, no one paid them any mind. The intimate figures of both those two and the other lovers were a common sight. If one were to unravel their history, this was a strange pair born through twists and turns, but in everyday life, it was just a part of the scenery.

“Violet. Sorry, I couldn’t hear you. Did you say anything?”

Due to Gilbert hugging her tightly, Violet’s remark was processed simply as an incomprehensible something, but she did not care.

“No, it was nothing much. I have returned, Major.”

“Sorry. Yeah, welcome back, Violet... Did I tell you I wanted to see you?”

“Yes, just now.”

“I heard from Hodgins about when you were scheduled to come back... Tired, are you? I have a carriage waiting so that we can hurry home.”

“Major, what about work...?”

“I came after finishing it. I had to force myself but I have no plans more important than you.”

“Then, can we be together for a little bit as the carriage rides?”

“If you’re okay with it, I can send you to the Evergarden house after we have a meal.”

Gilbert took Violet’s eyes going round as a sign of acceptance. He took Violet’s bag in her stead and, in a natural manner, found himself grasping the hand that had become empty. As he held her hand, Violet moved her gaze fleetingly. She started blinking again upon looking at the two joined hands.

“Major, Major.”

Subsequent to their reunion during the hijacking case of the transcontinental train, the two had confirmed their feelings after the CH Postal Company attack incident and started a new, albeit awkward, relationship.

“What is it?”

“I almost look like a child.”

She indeed was like a child in love.

“Because we’re holding hands?”

“Yes; I would never get lost here, in Leidenschaftlich. You did use to hold my hand before, but... now...”

It was a bit lacking for an army colonel who was past his thirties, but if one were to say that it was fitting of modest people such as these two, it indeed was.

“I’d like you to keep in mind that lovers also hold hands, Violet.”

“Is that so...? Indeed, looking around, there are many people doing this.”

“You had told me you understood... so I perceived us as lovers; was I wrong?”

“N-Not at all.”

“Then, in order to strengthen that perception... let’s change the way we’re holding hands.”

Just by the hold changing into one in which their fingers intertwined, Violet went from just a girl being taken away to a lady being escorted. Violet blinked again. Ever since their romance had come to fruition, each of Violet’s reactions entertained Gilbert, to which he let show a smile that he could not hold back.

“I’ll be happy if, one day, you take my hand without saying anything when I hold out my arm.”

“I need training, Major.”

“Kukuh... That so? Then let’s do it, Violet.”

As the novice couple left the platform, yet another train arrived.

While Violet and Gilbert walked amidst the crowd, a different pair passed right by their side. The young woman was quite a lustrous, beautiful person, whom one could tell was of noble birth. The individual walking with a hand rested on her shoulder as if to protect her from the crowd was an androgynous beauty with unusual silver hair.

Cut short, his platinum-blond hair bore the kind of exquisiteness that looked like it would make chiming sounds as he walked. His jacket, shirt and pants were finely tailored ones. He no longer resembled at all the navigator who used to row a boat in the past.

Feeling as if an old acquaintance had passed by, Valentine halted for a moment.

“What is the matter, Rose?”

Upon being called, Valentine immediately resumed walking with a “nothing”. It was not permissible to stop in the general area of a packed entrance.

“Madam... I had this feeling that the girl I am looking for was here.”

Looking for someone all by themselves. Those two had this point in common.

“Violet Evergarden? That’s right; you will be living as an Auto-Memories Doll in the same city as her. It would not be strange if she did pass by. You will meet that girl someday. And one day – one day, you might also get to see the older brother that you told me about. After all, miracles happen every day.”

However, they had still not realized that the gears of their fates were not yet aligned.

Rose Valentine gave a smile with a “yes, Madam”. “To me, Madam, you are the miracle.”

“Why, my rose does not say such things.”

Rose’s flank was hit rather strongly, but although it actually hurt, the smile did not falter. This was also one of his secrets to success.

“Speaking of which, the Auto-Memories Doll school was truly difficult. I am grateful to Madam for sending me to it, though...”

“Oh, but you have come back as a gentleman who has become able to escort me naturally like this, so it has brought results.”

Rose’s amber eyes widened beneath silver lashes. They reflected his madam’s mischievous facial expression. Rose’s smile collapsed a little and turned into a strained laugh.

“Madam, I managed to deceive people in the past because I used to wear a hat to hide my face, but... can I really do this? Also, does this not mean that I will have to deceive all the other employees and customers?”

There was something he had not told Violet Evergarden. Violet Evergarden was a mysterious girl to him as well, but there was not that great a difference between her and himself.

“I left my hometown in order to start my own life for real, and yet...”

He – no, she was going to begin a new life in this city starting from today. Not just as “Valentine” but as “Rose Valentine”.

The madam of the S.W. (Scarlet Winter) Letter-Specialized Shop, which would later make a name for itself as a unique postal company that mostly employed male Auto-Memories Dolls, replied with an alluring smile.

If there were goodbyes, there had to be encounters. And if there were ends, there had to be beginnings.

“We will not deceive them. You will properly sell yourself as Rose Valentine, the crossdressing beauty, from the very start. We sell a hundred different types of letters, stationery, envelopes. And also the caring customer service from charming young men who have some sort of sparkle to them. There is no mistaking that this will be as addicting as high-grade drinks. It’s exactly because this business is full of women that a shop full of men will shine. Is this discrimination? Are you discriminating against me, Rose?!”

Good endings and bad endings – life went on with both included.

“Haah... But I’m a woman. No, I might be almost a man since I’ve lived most of my life tricking people about my gender...”

“That’s what’s good about it!”

“Haah...”

It looked like an eternity but was not, yet on it went.

“Your boyish side and your original girl side. I recruited you taking them into account. Be at ease. You can sell. You can. After all, there is no other such Auto-Memories Doll.”

“Haah...”

“Don’t ‘haah’ me. Geez... my lovely rose. Worry not. Have I ever lied to you?”

The story would go on. Cruel as the world might be, beautiful moments would come by again.

“It has still not been that long since I first met you... so, I would not know, Madam.”

Morning would come as long as you were there. Such was how stories were made.

#violet evergarden #fyeahvioletevergarden #violet evergarden ever after #kyoani #kyoto animation #akatsuki kana #gilbert bougainvillea #rose valentine #novel #my translation

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strangertheory · 3 years

Note

Right. So I know that there are Byler hints. I know that we were able to detect them, but there's still so many other people out there who don't see them or, even with us pointing them out to those people and writing novel like essays, keep denying that there might be a chance of Byler being a thing. How will the series change their minds in a natural way, without them feeling betrayed as in: "How is this suddenly happening out of nowhere?" or "But, but... what about Mike and El's relationship?"

"How is this suddenly happening out of nowhere?"

Hmm. But arguably that's what many fans who object to Mike and El's relationship have been saying about them.

Didn't Mike and El's relationship "happen out of nowhere?" A mysterious girl shows up when Will goes missing and suddenly by the end of the season which was primarily focused on the Party and El looking to rescue Will, Mike's kissing El and inviting her to the Snowball?

I suspect that what is going on between Mike, El, and Will is more complex and unique than most fans currently think. I think the story has as-yet undisclosed secrets. But until those aspects of the story are explored in the show, I see Mike and El's romantic relationship as very superficial if we assume that what we currently know about the characters is all that there is.

If fans who appreciate Mike and El's relationship are willing to accept the amount of time that Mike and El have spent together between seasons 1 and 3 as substantial enough to establish a close bond worthy of mutual romantic affection that they can support, then I'm not sure how they could dispute Mike and Will's long friendship having substantial moments of mutual affection and moments of caring for each other that should lend themselves to a very deep, trusting, and meaningful romance.

But if Mike and Will eventually demonstrate mutual romantic interest in each other, the task of explaining it will finally be lifted from fans' backs and placed in the hands of the creators themselves and I very much look forward to hearing the Duffer Brothers and writers and actors discuss all of the foreshadowing and details which pointed towards this eventual moment of realization for Mike and Will.

It gets emotionally and intellectually exhausting after the hundredth debate. This is part of why I removed most shipping posts from my pinned index post. I don't want to argue with fans who dislike Byler. I'd rather talk about other aspects of the story.

Whether it's well-intentioned and unprejudiced skepticism or not, debating the validity of a 🏳️‍🌈ship with fans who prefer a ship that is currently understood to be cishet is emotionally draining for me as someone who has had to defend the validity of my own feelings and identity to my homophobic family constantly. I don't honestly have the energy or desire to participate in this particular variety of "shipping war."

If someone empathizes and identifies with the romantic relationship between Mike and El: that's fine and I don't begrudge them that, in fact I have a very nuanced understanding and interpretation of Mike and El's relationship and possible eventual relationship dynamic myself (re: my various thoughts and theories about Stranger Things that I discuss in other blogposts) but I would prefer to not be asked to explain my opinion on their relationship at face-value anymore and I would prefer to not be placed in situations in which I have to defend why I think Mike and Will are a better match because I am tired of this particular ongoing debate in the fan community, and I don't enjoy watching the constant bickering and hurt feelings across this divide in the fan community when others participate in it, either. Regardless of what people ship, I don't want any fans to feel misunderstood or to feel as if their feelings don't matter and aren't respected. I encourage fans to ship what they want to ship and if a particular relationship between characters is meaningful to them on a personal level then it shouldn't matter what other fans think because the meaning they found in that character dynamic is real to them.

But the day I can simply link naysayers to an interview with the Duffer Brothers and not dig out my copious notes regarding why from a storytelling perspective Mike and Will appear to be set up as characters eventually intended to realize they have mutual romantic interest in each other will be a day I can finally relax and stop dealing with the tensions and animosities in the fandom with nothing but my own reasoning and observations to defend myself with.

There will always be those who are dissatisfied with the resolution of a plot thread in a story, and it's not necessarily the responsibility of the writers or other fans to win them over. Fans are welcome to think and feel whatever they want about a story and if fans believe that any plot twist was poorly foreshadowed or could have been handled better they are capable of writing and sharing their own opinions just as they always have.

I no longer feel especially responsible for the opinions of other fans and their ability to understand the show anymore. I'm sorry if you do: that must be incredibly frustrating.

If people don't like it? If people think it "came out of nowhere?" Well that sounds like their problem and not mine.

I don't plan on arguing over the validity of Byler anymore here on my blog, but I do look forward to celebrating if and when Mike and Will finally admit their feelings to each other and are able to be happy together.

#anti mileven #<- not entirely but pretty much in any way that the fandom currently assumes the ship to be I tend to disagree #byler #I'm so tired

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ukulelecal · 3 years

Text

Bloom - Part One

The story of flowers.

Pairing: Poet!Luke Hemmings x Female!OC

Warnings: angst!!!! implied smut. perhaps a swear or two. mostly angst

Word count: 4.4k

A/N: can yall believe that this video sent me so feral that i wrote this whole lil mini series in like five days?? i'm not surprised tbh. ANYWAY omg i really am excited for y'all to read this!!! i hope you love it!!! i would love your feedback, and please please remember that reblogs mean the absolute world to creators!

series masterlist

masterlist // posted on ao3

Devon would never forget the first poem Luke wrote for her.

He was a blushing mess as he handed her the folded piece of paper, insisting she read it later because he didn’t want to see her reaction. He had a lip ring then, blond hair spiked up and a wardrobe full of band t-shirts and black skinny jeans. He certainly didn’t look like how anyone would imagine a poet, but one look at his work would tell anyone that he had the mind for the craft.

Luke’s way with words was unmatched. Devon always called it a superpower; the way he was able to capture readers with words strung together so beautifully and paint a picture in the brain. He made people feel something. He had a gift, no doubt.

All of his poems were breathtaking, and he wrote many for her. The first would always be her favorite.

It was called The Orchids. The poem compared a woman to a field of orchids, delicate and lush. It was simple but sweet. Devon vividly remembered the rush of giddiness she felt as she read it, knowing it was written just for her. She remembered calling Luke after reading it over and over again, gushing about how much she loved it. He explained to her later that he chose orchids because the color of the shirt she was wearing the day they met reminded him of them.

They were only freshmen in college then. First time away from home, getting their first taste of real independence. Of adulthood. They met in a seminar class that every first year student had to take. One that everyone else hated but Luke and Devon loved, just because they got to see each other. A couple of coffee dates lead to The Orchids, which lead to a loving relationship and many, many more poems.

College was just about to come to an end now. Graduation was coming up fast, and that brought the simultaneously exciting and dreadful question: what next?

The future was something that used to delight Luke and Devon. Countless nights, they talked about marriage, a house, a dog, children. Luke would be a renowned poet, Devon a respected social worker. They had it all planned out. Even if their white picket fence dreams fell through, they would be happy so long as they had each other.

With graduation creeping closer and closer, Devon wasn’t so sure about their plans.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want it anymore. She still loved Luke with all of her heart. She wanted everything they had talked about, a future with him. Some deeper thinking into her career led her heart elsewhere.

It came out at dinner one evening, sat at the table of Devon and Luke’s shared apartment that they had moved into junior year.

“I’ve been thinking about going to grad school,” she blurted out. She twisted her spaghetti on her fork to distract herself. His face lit up, but Devon didn’t quite share his excitement. She knew this was something she wanted, but she was about to make a huge sacrifice that she had been trying to convince herself that she was ready for.

“Yeah? That’s great, Dev!” Luke cheered. “Here?”

The proud smile on his face quickly dropped when he saw the look of dread on hers. Graduate school was certainly a good thing, but if she wasn’t thrilled, Luke knew there must be a catch.

“Not here?” Devon shook her head. “Then where?”

The name of the school that she mumbled under her breath made Luke’s heart sink. It was far away. Very far.

“Oh.”

Luke wanted to kick himself for being disappointed. It was selfish, so selfish. He should have been proud that Devon wanted to further her education, and he was. He couldn’t fathom trying to take that away from her, but the thought of his girl being so far away was gut wrenching.

He wiped the frown off his face as quickly as it came. He reminded himself that he needed to be supportive, even if it hurt.

“That’s awesome, baby. I’m really proud of you.”

Devon knew he wasn’t lying when he said he was proud of her, but she could tell he wasn’t as excited as he was trying to seem.

“You don’t have to act happy about this, Lu,” she murmured, still pushing her pasta around. “I know what you’re thinking.”

He sighed and dropped his fork on his plate. Of course she saw through him. She always did. After four years of being together, Devon knew Luke better than anyone.

“I really am proud of you for doing this, honey. Don’t think that I’m not. It’s just…” he trailed off, unable to think of a way to put what he wanted to say without sounding selfish. “It’s so far away.”

Devon swallowed the lump in her throat. She was headstrong, and she knew that she needed to put her career and her own desires first. That didn’t mean it hurt any less to move so far away from the love of her life.

“I know, bubs,” she whispered. “But this is something I really want for myself. For my future.”

“Oh, honey, I know,” Luke sighed, not wanting her to feel bad. “I want you to do this. But the distance...I know it’s selfish of me-”

“It’s not selfish, Luke,” she interrupted, shaking her head softly. “It’s not easy for me either. But this school has the best graduate program for social work. Besides, I haven’t finished my application yet and I’m applying to some other places too. I might not even get in.”

Perhaps the most selfish thing of all was that a tiny part of him hoped she wouldn’t get in. It would break her heart if she didn’t, but maybe she wouldn’t be so far. Luke hated himself for the thought even crossing his mind for a split second.

Devon could see how this was affecting him. She understood; she knew he was planning on proposing shortly after graduation, though they were in no hurry to actually get married until they both had secure jobs. Moving hundreds of miles away for two years undoubtedly threw a wrench in the plans.

She had gone back and forth for a while as she searched for grad schools. As much as she wanted to stay close, her future career was something that she valued greatly. Devon was a first generation college student, and she wanted nothing more than to make her family proud. However, Luke was important too. The distance wouldn’t be easy, but she tried to be optimistic. She could only hope that he would want to try too.

“Don’t think like that, Dev,” Luke mumbled. He let out a deep sigh, running a hand through his hair. His desire for Devon to succeed and his desire to keep her close were battling each other, and it only frustrated him.

He thought about his words for a few moments, but couldn’t find the right thing to say.

“We’ll talk about it later, okay?”

Devon gave a silent nod. She needed to let him feel this out, and honestly, she needed to do the same. Thinking about it was one thing, but actually telling Luke was another. She had been stressing over it for a while, and now that it was finally out, her and Luke had to actually deal with it together.

The couple finished their dinner in silence, the only sounds to be heard being the slight scraping of forks against plates and the occasional sighs.

Devon couldn’t help but feel guilty. Over the years, she had conditioned herself to put her own aspirations first. She had sacrificed a lot for others in her lifetime, but many people had made sacrifices for her as well. She felt she had found a balance between taking care of herself and taking care of the people around her. She knew that moving away for a while for her own benefit would have an effect on her relationship, but she didn’t feel as if she had to choose one or the other. If Luke was willing to try to make things work, then so was she.

Luke took his last bite of spaghetti and stood up from the table. He silently made his way to the sink to wash his plate before turning back to Devon.

“I’m going to write for a bit, okay?” He mumbled, slowly making his way towards the spare bedroom that doubled as his workspace. No doubt a poem was going to come out of everything he was feeling at the moment. Devon nodded and her brown eyes watched as Luke turned on his heel to walk away.

“Luke?” She called out before he got too far. He turned around with a hum of acknowledgement. “I love you.”

Despite the anxiety and dread he was feeling, he smiled.

He walked back over to where Devon still sat at the table. With her face cradled lovingly in his hands, he bent down to press a soft yet meaningful kiss to her lips. The kiss said that even if things were uncertain, this wasn’t over.

“I love you too.”

…

Devon’s breath caught in her throat when an email from her top choice grad school came through.

She had poured over her personal statement and fretted over her interview. No matter how much everyone assured her, she couldn’t help the anxiety that ate her away.

With a deep breath, she opened the email.

Accepted with a scholarship.

“Luke! Bubs, I got in! I got in!”

She ran into the spare bedroom where Luke was hunched over one of his many poetry notebooks. His head whipped up at his girlfriend’s yells, his brain taking a moment to process her words after being in the writing zone.

For a moment, neither of them were thinking about the distance. All that mattered was Devon’s amazing achievement.

Luke stood up to meet her. Devon practically tackled him in a hug and he easily held her close.

“Congratulations, honey,” he mumbled into her hair. “Fuck, I’m so proud of you.”

He held her for a few minutes, neither of them able to wipe the smiles off their faces. This meant a lot to Devon, and Luke knew it. He knew from the moment he met her that she was going to do great things in life. She was motivated, intelligent, passionate. Anyone could see it. It was one of the many things he loved about her.

Luke pulled away in favor of cupping her cheeks in his hands. Devon flushed under his adoring gaze, eyes falling downwards.

“You’re incredible, Devon Murphy.”

She kissed him as a form of thanks, melting into each other’s touch. Their eyes met when they pulled away, bright blue and warm brown. Devon wasn’t the wordsmith that Luke was, but she didn’t have to be. Her eyes and her actions told him and everyone else everything that they needed to know. Devon was in love with him, and Luke, her.

Even with Luke’s way with words, Devon could read his eyes too. They were just as expressive as his poetry. As they gazed at each other, she could see the flash of sorrow as his mind travelled elsewhere. She didn’t need to ask to know what he was thinking about.

“Luke…” she whispered with a softened gaze. The guilt was returning, although she knew she had nothing to feel guilty about. She had always struggled with her determination to put herself first. It wasn’t Luke’s fault either, however; his feelings about her leaving were completely valid.

“No. None of that right now,” he stated, shaking his head. “This is a huge accomplishment, Dev. We’re not going to be sad tonight.”

A grin tugged at the corner of Devon’s lips as Luke pulled away, grabbing his phone from the desk and sticking it in his pocket. He placed a hand on the small of her back and led her to the door of the bedroom.

“I think you deserve a celebratory dinner, honey, yeah?” He offered, handing trailing to the side to hold her waist. She chuckled and leaned into him.

“You could throw in a frozen pizza and I’d be happy, bubs.”

“Hell no,” he scoffed as if it was the most ridiculous suggestion in the world. “You just got into grad school! I’m taking you out for dinner. If you want pizza, we can get pizza, but not a frozen one.”

Devon couldn’t help but throw her arms around him again, burying her face into his chest. He tilted his head down to press a kiss to the top of her head. She knew this wasn’t easy, and she was beyond grateful that he was being supportive.

“Thank you, bubs. I love you.”

“I love you too, honey. So are we getting pizza, or do you want to go somewhere else? It’s up to you.”

“Pizza sounds good. Can we go to the place with the good garlic knots?”

Luke laughed as he slipped on his shoes.

“Of course we can.”

Devon slipped on her own shoes and grabbed her denim jacket from the hook by the door before the couple made their way downstairs. Luke’s beat up Prius came into view as they stepped into the parking lot. Devon had named the car Bertha; she was old and a little rusty, but she got the job done.

Luke drove to the small pizzeria not far from their apartment complex. Once inside, they were seated quickly and ordered garlic knots and a pizza to share.

“We haven’t talked much about your writing lately,” Devon said once the waitress walked away. “What have you been working on?”

Luke shrugged and sipped his water.

“Not much. I haven’t really gotten anything good out.”

Truthfully, he had written a lot of poems about Devon leaving. He wasn’t going to tell her that at their celebratory dinner, though.

“In a slump?” She queried sincerely.

“Yeah, a bit.”

“Maybe next weekend we can go out, go to the park. You always get inspired there.”

Luke grinned and reached across the table for her hand.

“I’d love that, Dev.”

The rest of dinner flew by, conversation getting lost in buttery garlic knots and savory pizza. Luke offered dessert, but Devon was too full to even think about it. A sly joke about having her for dessert at home had the giggling couple paying the check and driving home at record speed where Luke certainly made good on his promise.

Devon and Luke laid in bed that night where whispered I love you’s and gentle kisses put them to sleep. Not a negative thought in either of their minds. They were content, but the future still loomed menacingly ahead.

…

The apartment was once a place of solace. It was a place where Luke and Devon could get away from the stress of college life and simply be together. It was safe and comforting. A place they knew they were always welcome.

As time went on, the apartment slowly shifted from a place of joy to a place of dread.

Graduation day was coming up, and both Devon and Luke knew what that meant.

They busied themselves with assignments and exams, Devon simultaneously preparing herself for grad school. She didn’t say much about it to Luke; whenever it came up, the tension between them only got stronger. It led to them bickering about other things to avoid the conversation.

Before they knew it, graduation had come and passed. Devon and Luke officially had their bachelor’s degrees, Luke in creative writing and Devon in social work. The days leading up to it were a good distraction, celebrations with friends and family taking their minds off the move. But it was over. Devon needed to get to her new city soon to set up her new apartment and get her bearings before school started. It was time to face the music.

“Luke?” Devon mumbled as he came out of the spare bedroom. She had been waiting for him to finish so they could talk.

He sighed and sat down next to her on the couch, knowing exactly what this was about. They both had been dreading the conversation, but he knew just as well as her that they needed to discuss it before it was too late.

“Are you ready for this?” She whispered, glancing at him with sad eyes. He didn’t return her gaze.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be ready to be away from you for this long, honey.”

Luke could feel his guard coming down. He wanted this for Devon, but he was struggling to keep his want for her to stay close suppressed.

“I don’t want you to think I’m not considering you in this,” she began, reaching for his hand in his lap. “Leaving won’t be easy for me either.”

“I know.”

He was too scared to say much else.

The couple was silent for a moment. They racked their brains for something to say that would make the situation easier on either of them.

“Maybe you could come with.”

Devon regretted it as soon as it came out of her mouth.

Luke huffed and sent her a look.

“You know I can’t do that.”

She did know. If he could do that, he would have jumped on the opportunity immediately. Luke couldn’t afford to move. He was working on fulfilling his lifelong dream of releasing a poetry book. He was getting so close. Publishers were starting to take interest in him, and he nearly had enough money saved to cover the costs. It was difficult to save money when his part time job at a local bookstore didn’t pay much in the first place and he still needed to pay for school as well as his share of the rent and groceries, among other necessary things. Devon was a little luckier. Neither of their families had much to contribute, and she needed to pay for the same things as him, but her part time job paid better than his and she had money saved from when she managed to land a paid internship first semester. It was covering the costs of her move and grad school.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

She watched him for another moment, trying to fight back the tears that were welling in her eyes.

“Please say something, Luke,” she whimpered. All she wanted was for him to affirm what she so desperately wanted; for them to be okay.

He finally looked at her, both sets of eyes red rimmed. Devon squeezed his hand.

“Do you really have to go, Dev?”

The break in his voice sent the first tear gliding down Devon’s cheek.

“You know how much this means to me, Lu. I really think we can make this work.”

“Can we? Can we really?” Luke’s tone turned frustrated. Devon’s mouth dropped open slightly. Did he not believe they could last?

“What are you saying?” She whispered, voice shaking.

He sighed and roughly stood up, dropping Devon’s hand in the process.

“We’ll never talk. We’ll both be so busy. You’ll have school, I’ll be working. And you know neither of us have the money to be visiting each other often. There will hardly be anything,” he rambled, pacing around the living room. Maybe his selfish side was coming out, but he felt he was just being realistic.

Luke always aimed for realism, particularly in his poetry. He wrote largely about real life experiences and channeled his emotions into beautiful, flowing rhymes. His best work came from personal connection.

Sometimes, he couldn’t help but write about what he wished he had.

His idealistic poems were never about Devon; his relationship with her was practically perfect. But this was something that no idealistic poem could fix. No words could change what was happening to them.

“I’ll make time for you, Luke. Won’t you do the same?” She questioned, growing frustrated as well. She had wanted him to share her optimism, but clearly he didn’t. A part of her knew he was right, but she wasn’t going to back down.

“Of course I’ll make time. But will it be enough? No matter how much we try, will it be enough to keep what we have going? Look at what it’s doing to us now! You haven’t even left yet and we can barely keep it together.”

“Do you really have that little faith in us, Luke?” Her voice was calm, despite how she felt on the inside. She narrowed her eyes at him. “No one said it would be easy. But we’ve been together for four years. I believe in us.”

Luke took another breath, trying his best to keep his emotions and tears at bay.

“I want to believe in us, Devon. I really do.” He turned to look at her. Her cheeks were stained with tears, and it only made his heart ache more. “I still want a future with you. I want the house and the dog and the kids we’ve always talked about. But I have a bad feeling. We’ve never been away from each other for more than a few weeks. I just...the distance is going to break us.”

Luke’s own words cut him like a knife. As much as he wanted to believe they could last, his own insecurities caused him doubt. He wasn’t sure if he truly believed that or if he just wanted to save himself the heartbreak of being away from Devon for so long.

Devon let his words sink in. Even if it did break them before she finished her degree, she was willing to try until they couldn’t anymore. Maybe he was right. Maybe the distance would break them eventually. But it hurt her that he didn’t have any faith at all. Still, she understood where he was coming from.

There was no winner in this situation.

She thought for a moment, and finally came to the conclusion that they were both thinking about.

“Fine.” She slowly stood up from the couch and looked him in the eye. They were both shattered. Hearts were breaking into a million pieces simultaneously. Devon put on the most stoic face she could muster with tears still leaking from her eyes. “We obviously want different things right now. I have school, you have your book, and clearly we can’t handle both at the same time. Maybe there shouldn’t be an us.”

Although he had essentially been the one to suggest it, her words felt like a punch in the gut.

This wasn’t what either of them wanted. This wasn’t supposed to happen. But the truth was becoming more and more apparent. They couldn’t do this. Not now.

However, Luke mimicked Devon’s actions and put on a blank face.

“Maybe there shouldn’t.”

They stared at each other for another few moments. Reality was setting in. This was the end of Luke and Devon. All of the coffee dates, the love poems, living off Ramen and questionable dining hall food together, walks in the park, kisses, I love you’s, the late night talks of the future, everything gone down the drain.

Devon shut herself in the bedroom before Luke could see her break.

…

The next month before Devon moved was painful. Her and Luke hardly said a word to each other. They ate their meals separately, not bothering to cook together like they used to or order food to share. They both spent time with friends before everyone went off to their new adult lives. When they weren’t out, Devon locked herself in the bedroom while Luke did the same in the spare. They hadn’t slept in the same bed since before their fight.

Devon spent a lot of free time packing. She went through all of her belongings, creating piles of things to keep, things to donate, and things to throw away.

She soon came across something that made all of her emotions about the breakup resurface.

It was the shoebox that she kept all of the poems Luke had written for her in. She kept every single one.

With a quivering lip, she opened the box and gazed at its contents. Piles of folded papers were neatly tucked inside, his declarations of love all written out in one place. They were her most prized possessions. She went back and reread them often, and the feeling of having someone love her like Luke did was the best feeling in the world.

Devon choked out a sob, burying her face into her hands in hopes that he wouldn’t hear her through the thin walls. The fact that he was right next door hurt her even more. The caring, gentle boy that made her swoon with his charming smile and romantic poetry. He made her fall in love with him all over again every day. He was everything, and she lost him.

She slowly read through each poem. Instead of joy and adoration, all she felt was anguish and heartache. She never thought she would feel this way about Luke.

When she got to the bottom, she pulled out the last poem, and her heart completely broke in her chest.

The Orchids.

Devon couldn’t keep her sobs at bay. She clutched the paper to her chest, every bit of pain coming out in tears.

Luke could hear her through the wall.

His heart told him to run in and comfort her. His brain told him it would only make things worse for both of them.

He plugged his ears, trying to block out the dreadful sound. He was in just as much pain as her, but the sound of the love of his life’s sorrow only made his own worse.

Glancing down at the open notebook in front of him, he reread the poem he was writing, and soon he found himself joining Devon in tears.

It was called Wilted. Their relationship that had once been a beautiful flower, an orchid, lost its sunlight and its water, and now it had wilted. Dead, grey, dried up.

Luke dropped his pen and folded his arms on the desk, burying his head into them. He cried.

The broken couple, only separated by a thin wall, might as well have already been miles apart. They cried together, but there was no sense of unity between them. Their pain was past what any poem could portray.

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mariaiscrafting · 3 years

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ahhhh ty ty ty <3

ok, so I think that what makes Dream act this way (iykyk) is how dreamwastaken became so big so quickly. and by quick I mean fucking lightning speed.

he didn't have enough time to learn enough about cc etiquette, especially in these three aspects: influence, boundaries and fanbase/stans/whatever you call it. I'll try to explain it:

• Influence: Does he know the influence he has? Like, when he hears that he is the myct with the largest fanbase, does he really process that? I remember he talked about not being able to control all of his fanbase and there's bad apples everywhere -- which is true, and that only like 1% of his fanbase breaks his boundaries (that include sending hate for him, harassing, doxing, etc. yk, basic twitter culture lol) but, honey, with your big ass fanbase, 1% is still a lot of people. As a content creator you *have* to be aware of that.

let's take the hbomb situation. First off, as a streamer, it's you that set the mood of the stream. Even if he was only messing around with his pals, even if they did say to do not send hate to hbomb, dt dunking on him created a toxic environment, which caused his fans being toxic towards hbomb and you know what happens next. Hell, when this happened, I was watching Tapl and he was watching them and he was crying laughing over them screaming bc they were just. so loud and so aggressive that it was kinda ??? Sirs, this is literally a Minecraft Stream lmaooo

my point is, that was not the road that dreamwastaken, 21M fans, should've taken. he don't condone his fans actions but he knows his fans are diehard and will always be on his side, he should be more careful before stating negative opinions, especially if its towards another person.

• Boundaries and Fanbase: He posted a list of his boundaries a while ago, idk if you know or seen it (btw please george copy your bestie for the love of god <3) but I'm not talking about those boundaries, I'm talking about the basic boundaries between cc and viewer. boundaries that, in my opinion, should exist between cc and viewer. I get that Dream is an open person, an oversharing type of open person if I may add, but I think he should take a step back regardless. When I heard that he was taking a time from twitter, I genuinely got so glad, not because he couldn't start any drama then, but because it would do so so good for his mental health. I'm not even that fond of him, it's just that for me, any cc taking a break or outright leaving twitter is a win for me. I know how RSD is hard to deal and honestly letting shit out it's better but dream you have dt you have bbh so please don't make things worse online 😭 I know how good can be to feel validation from millions of people but. it's not a good idea, especially in the state that his fanbase is on rn (this topic is kinda sensitive to talk abt for me bc people be outright ableist and hide it as criticism like. say that shit's not helping his reputation and whatever without acting like he's fucking. manipulating his fanbase for being affected by his rsd💀 or, on the other hand, don't say that hes just being adhd🤪 when he's just being an asshole like damn that's a Him thing bro lol)

(omg it's so big I'm so sorry and theres a part two I'm so sorry tumblr user messed-up-gal ToT) - morango 1/2

pt. 2:

Dream is the proof that the people who loves you can be your downfall. istg. Have you noticed that every drama that Dream enters, people usually get more mad abt how his fanbase reacts (85% they'll react in a bad way) than Dream himself? it's not always, but its definitely more likely. I'm not saying Dream is saint, he Is petty and his ego does him dirty and made him choke multiple times before,, But! i dont think hes a bad guy. he's literally just a dude. ok, he's a 21yr old white gamer man that has a trumpie past (maybe?? idk. I think hes cured now ig lol) so he's bound to do some shitty things but he still tries to get better and hopefully he'll mature. 21 is old enough but it's still so young, yk? I kind of lost my mind during the end and my eyes are literally begging to be closed so tl;dr: Its gonna be hard for him to become a better cc bc his fans don't let him be criticized (by infantilizing his adhd symptoms or the mob mentality as soon as someone says anything abt him), the honest criticism get lost between lies from antis that don't know shit, he still has a lot of growing up to do and overall he became famous too fast and he needs to learn things even faster bc as soon as there's not a single one dream hater on sight they'll turn their back and attack him instead lmao I hate twitter i definitely have more to say but I'm tired and my memory is shit. just-- hate dream if you want, love dream if you want, nobody is obligated to have an opinion but I wanted to express mine. have a lovely day! -morango 2/2

Aight, there's a lot to unpack here, so Imma try to only go into the points I have something to add to (here's what I talk about in each paragraph, if you want to jump to a specific point):

Speed of Dream's rise to fame

The "bad apples" in the Dream fanbase

Post-MCC HBomb stream

Not condoning versus actually condemning his fans

Manipulation & RSD

Criticism of Dream, his fanbase, and his brand

The “just a dude” argument, flipped

First, I agree that one of the many factors that has resulted in the current image Dream has set up for himself, the way his fanbase functions, the ways people hate on him, and the way the Dream brand functions, is the speed of his rise to fame. It's unique, and there are probably a hundred social/psychological angles that could be used to examine the exact effects of that speed upon all of these facets of the Dream Name; did rapid fame beget the rapid rise of unrighteous hatred, did those waves of hatred then instigate the rise of a surprisingly overdefensive fanbase, did that rapid fame get to his head and/or result in an inability to appropriately handle all the after-effects of rapid fame, etc.? That point you bring up, about how the speed of his rise to fame requires him to learn even more quickly, is so interesting to me. I think that maybe Dream expected to get pretty famous pretty quickly, hence the preparedness in regards to some mechanics of influencer fame- merchandise, business-building, networking, knowing how to manage his fanbase to best benefit him. But I don't think he expected to get this famous this quickly. This is all speculation of course, as are this entire post and your ask, but I think that he just couldn't anticipate having to learn how to handle enmasse controversy, waves of antis, or every Youtuber speculating/knowing about him; and yeah, that results in him having to learn all of these things very quickly, lest he allow his whole brand and fandom to fall apart.

Second, I disagree with the frequent argument that Dream's fanbase is only marginally toxic. Personally, I think that the circumstances of Dream's fame, his personality and management of his fanbase, and his brand of content have resulted in the very specific kind of stan that Dream stans are. I don't think this is simply a case of "all fandoms have a small percentage of assholes who take it too far;" rather, the nature of the community itself breeds the kind of mentality of "an asshole who takes it too far." I only even know this because I was a Dream fan (kinda a stan, I'm ngl). At one time, I watched every single Dreamwastaken & Dream Team video multiple times; I listened to the Manhunts on repeat, as though they were podcasts; I followed mostly smiletwt and dttwt accounts on mcyttwt; I had upwards of 10 tabs for AO3 DNF fics open on my phone at a time; I watched DNF and Dream Team Being A Family-esque compilations on repeat; I watched every George and Sapnap alt stream I possibly could; I went out of my way to defend Dream against Redditors and Twitter antis regarding the cheating scandal. For the latter half of 2020, and a couple months of 2021, I lived and breathed this part of the fandom; so when I say that Dream stans are a whole other breed than any other kind of mcyttwt stan, I say that because I used to be like that, too. I usually use parasocial very loosely or ironically, but Dream stans are genuinely one of the most parasocial fanbases I have ever seen or been a part of. The level of investment Dream stans have in this man's life, the lengths they will go to to defend him, the amount of psychonalysis and digging they do on his life and character, the amount of emotion he can evoke in them- it's taken to another level, man. This isn't just characteristic of a fraction of his fanbase; this is what the fanbase is like as a whole.

Third, I partially disagree with your take on the HBomb thing, but not in the way one might think? I actually empathize with the way they reacted much more than I thought I would, simply because I suspect I have RSD (also suspect I have ADHD, have for several months now) and I can see myself getting insanely frustrated because of something like that. Like yeah, it was "just a MC stream" or "just an MC game," but that's kinda disregarding the fact that something that might seem like "just a [insert inconsequential thing]" to a rational mind might have a major emotional consequence/take a major emotional toll on someone with RSD, or really anyone who gets easily impatient/angry about video games (Sapnap reminds me of many of my friends, in that way). The issues I, personally, had with the way they handled the HBomb situation is that these are simply explanations and reasons for my empathy; they are not excuses. I have no excuse when I get irrationally angry about something inconsequential in my own life, for a couple of reasons. One, because I am an adult and I need to learn how to handle my reactions and manage my own anger. Two, because as someone with many mental problems, it is my responsibility to learn coping mechanisms to ensure my own emotional stability and livelihood; this includes learning whatever I need to handle RSD- whether that be isolating myself from others when I know I will become violently/passionately angry about something, creating and sustaining a support system that can get me through bouts of extreme emotion, finding healthy emotional outlets for my negative emotions that won't harm myself or others, or a combination thereof. I don't think what they said about HBomb post-MCC was an irreversibly horrible thing, or anything. I think there were errors committed by two men who should be fully capable of foreseeing and preventing those errors, but I don't unconditionally hate Dream or Sapnap for the post-MCC stream or comments. I just wish they had made amends quickly, publicly, and sufficiently, because the greatest consequences from the whole thing weren't even from those two criticizing HBomb themselves; they were from the waves of backlash because of their immense influence on the MCYT fandom, which could've been prevented, if they had acted maturedly and responsibly after the stream.

Fourth, you’re right, that he doesn’t seem to condone his fans’ behavior. I detest the frequent anti argument that one of the reasons Dream should be criticized is because he explicitly uses his fanbase to attack others, or something of the sort. Personally, I think he created his fanbase in a very specific way and interacts with them in such a way so as to benefit him as much as possible, yes, but he never actually tells his fanbase to go and yell at or harrass anyone. Still, there is a significant difference between not condoning something and condemning something. It might seem unfair, and it might be annoying of me to say this, but I truly think that someone with this large a fanbase, especially one as overzealous as Dream’s, needs to be condemned every single time it goes on some kind of rampage/harrassment campaign. Either that, or Dream needs to make a definitive, permanent statement against any kind of harrassment of others on his behalf. I know he’ll occassionally make the odd tweet or serious stream addressing something his fanbase did, but one of the many reasons his fanbase keeps doing the same damn thing is because he’s so lukewarm and spotty about this condemnation. A fanbase like his needs to be given explicit guidance and boundaries for the numerous things they do in his defense- harrassing/doxing antis, harrassing people who criticize him who aren’t antis (respectful criticism, other CCs, other MCYT stans, etc.), harrassing the people he critcizes (i.e., HBomb), speculating about his personal life (his relationship with his gf, his mental health/ADHD, his romantic life, his childhood, etc.), and speculating about his relationships with his friends and colleagues. My personal ideology is that, if you have significant influence over someone or a group of people, you are at least somewhat responsible for the things those people do or don’t do, if it at all relates back to you. I’m so fucking tired of the argument that CCs aren’t responsible for what their fans do. Obviously they aren’t responsible for every single one of their fans, and obviously they can’t fully control their fans at the end of the day. But I think there are certain things that reach such a level of extremity that does make those CCs responsible. This can be measured by either scale or intensity; that is to say, if a CC’s fanbase does things on an extremely large scale, or one person from/a fraction of the fanbase does something really extreme, then the CC is made all the more responsible. Another CC I’ve always had trouble discussing with other people on this subject is Pewdiepie, in particular, about the extremists in his fanbase. Because the things a small handful of his fans have done in reference to him and/or in his name were so fucking extreme, I thought Pewdiepie had to take at least some responsibilty. Along a similar vein, because the things Dream’s general fanbase does are so widespread and on such a massive scale, Dream has to take at least some responsibility.

Fifth, okay. Hmmm. I want to tackle this point you made about the ableism he faces in some criticism of him carefully and with empathy, but not coddling. One, I do think a lot of the criticism he receives for the ways he handles criticism (post-cheating Tweets, reactions to John Swan, post-MCC HBomb stream, etc.), disregard his RSD and can be oftentimes ableist. I’ve actually encountered people irl who criticize this aspect of Dream’s character, and have had to explain to them their disregard for how ADHD/RSD affect neurodivergent people’s reactions to criticism. But - and this is a big, and very controversial but - I think mentally ill/disordered people can 100% leverage their mental illness/disorders for the sake of manipulation. This is actually something I’ve learned from a psychiatrist, regarding the ways people I know and I handle our anxiety and depression. This manipulation can be unwitting or intentional, but it is entirely possible, and the possibility shouldn’t be entirely dismissed as ableist. Living with a mental illness or disorder that others know about/that you are very public about puts you in an interesting position to receive frequent sympathy, empathy, and/or pity. I’m not saying that empathy for Dream having ADHD/RSD is entirely unjustified; on the contrary, I have frequently expressed how I can relate to his ADHD symptoms and have defended him for expressing those symptoms, both on mcytblr and in real life. I am saying that Dream fans tend to use his ADHD as a kind of shield for a lot of criticism levied against him, including the supposition that he could be manipulating his fanbase to defend him because of his public expressions of RSD. So yes, my theory is that Dream knows how to levy every aspect of his life for his personal gain and for the growth of his brand, and that includes his ADHD. I think he has courage for his openess about his ADHD, I think his openness has contributed to the rise in awareness of mental health and empathy for neurodivergent people within Gen Z, and I think at least some of his expressions of RSD publicly/online weren’t intentionally made public. All that being said, I also think he has to know just how much his fanbase cares about defending him for his ADHD, and I think he has to know that some of the things he does related to his neurodivergence endear him to his audience, in a coddling, baby-ing, mildly ableist sorta way. Maybe this is all incredibly presumptuous of me. Of course, I can never know the real intentions behind any Dream video, Tweet, or stream. Maybe I’m just projecting, because I can see myself doing just this, if I had the maturity I had circa 2018-2019. Idfk know, man.

Sixth, I actually agree with you here, people probably do get more mad at his fanbase than him. Dream puts out content pretty seldomly, considering the frequency of content output for other Youtubers/streamers in his field/at his brand size. And yet, he has received masses of criticism. Considering that the things Dream himself does/says do not entirely correlate with the amount of criticism he receives, I think it’s a logical assumption that a lot of that criticism actually goes back to the size of his presence online, rather than the man himself. That is to say, because of the massive community he’s amassed, the exponential growth of his fanbase, their presence on every single social media site and in virtually every single Internet space/fandom, and the size of his metaphysical presence in his fields, Dream is much bigger than the man himself, so the criticism he receives will, at least in part, be a direct or indirect result of all these other aspects of the Dream brand. Something I don’t think many Dream fans/stans, or even most MCYT fans in general, understand, is that Dream isn’t just “one guy” in the eyes of the Internet- at least, not anymore. He hasn’t been for nearly a year. Like Pewdiepie, Mr. Beast, and other CCs who have amassed similar levels of fame and wealth via Internet content creation, Dream is a brand now, and most people will treat him as such. He isn’t just some uwu soft boy playing Minecraft anymore. He is on a whole other level from any other MCYT in his friend circle or colleague interaction bubble. His words will never again live in a vaccum or private bubble, his friend circle will never again be under anything less than intense scrutiny, his past actions will never again be simple mistakes or silly errors, his words will never again be casual tweets or streams for laughs among a couple thousand followers. Dream’s name represents something much bigger than just the one man. As such, all aspects of his brand, including his fanbase, will tie back to him and, ultimately, to any general criticism of him.

I’m not saying I like any of this, and I actually think the evolution of influencers from people to a marketable brand with similar mechanisms, responsibilities, and liabilities as a corporation is some kind of late capitalism nightmare fuel; I’m just stating my own observations and theories as to why so much anti-Dream criticism seems to be directed at his fanbase, rather than him.

Seventh, he’s just a guy, you’re right, but I think a lot of the antis on Tumblr understand this more than you know. As I’ve seen it, the sentiment among much of the “DSMP stans DNI” crowd seems to be that of “Dream/other MCYTs are such ‘bad’ people, so why do their fans stick to these mediocre, racist men, when there are so many better people to watch/better content to consume?” We know this argument is flawed for many of the obvious reasons - the conflation of all MCYTs’ actions regardless of individual identity, the equating of a CC’s fanbase’s morality to that of the CC they enjoy watching, the exxageration of any error MCYT CCs have committed as bigotry/racism, the fundamental misunderstanding and misinformation that led antis to believe this exxageration of the facts, etc. But I want to focus on the general, underlying sentiment of, “why not watch someone better, when your creator is problematic?” Sometimes, I ask this of Dream stans. Yes, being mildly ignorant, getting involved in the scandals Dream has, and being a right-leaning/libertarian centrist in the recent past all seem like harmless things, all things considered. One could say Dream isn’t nearly as bad as many antis who are misinformed seem to believe, and that there are much worse CCs Dream stans could be watching and creating fan content for. But I think what Tumblr antis wonder is, aren’t there also much better MCYTs/CCs people could be watching and stanning? Because he’s just some guy, right? Is his content truly so exceptional or is he really so exceptional a person, that people have to stick by him, despite the things that spike up regarding his current or past actions? I think that’s what made me finally decide to stop watching Dream. I realized he was just Some Guy. The Dream Team was a comforting dynamic to indulge in, DNF was a cute ship to read and speculate about, and Manhunts were fun videos to watch; however, once the Reddit posts came out and I read them in-depth, the cost-benefit analysis tipped over to the “not worth it” side for me. I realized Dream’s content, while fun and comforting, was not entirely unique, and wasn’t worth sticking around for, given what I then knew about his past political leanings. If he is just Some Guy, then there are a hundred more like him out there. There a hundred more ships, a hundred more found family dynamics, a hundred more entertaining and skilled Minecraft players. So while I agree with you on the point of people being allowed to love him regardless because he is just a guy, at the end of the day, I think that, if we are to believe that sentiment or use that argument in such a manner, we should also understand the flip side- that, if he is just some guy, why is it worth sticking around? To that I say, maybe because people just enjoy the simple things they enjoy.

Anyways, I wholly agree with your tl;dr. Thanks for that insanely long ask, this was a fun thing to keep me occupied while I’ve been at work, facilitating Zoom sessions this whole morning.

#ive been writing this on and off since 830 am est SHEESH #dreamwastaken #dream critical #eh i think im relatively lenient of him here given my past posts ab him #but still just in case the blacklist tags for yalls convenience:#discourse #/neg #asks #long post #long posts #this a LONG one bois #morango

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ilikekidsshows · 3 years

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I edited the ask slightly to make it clear this is about apologists making excuses for Chloé's behavior and not fans who just feel frustrated over not getting an arc they wished to see.

Anon said: I think what really annoys me is Chloe apologists that cry she’s, “just a kid she can learn to be better and outgrow her abusive tendencies” seem to gloss over or ignore that Chloe has been given MULTIPLE chances to do better for 3 seasons and at every turn she always returns to her spoiled bratty bullying ways. Especially in season 3 where she didn’t listen to Ladybug about never getting the miraculous and felt entitled to the power.

It’s just so annoying how chloe apologists act like she’s the real victim just cause her mommy doesn’t love her, news flash she’s not the only character in the show who has a bad relationship with a parent. It doesn’t give Chloe the right to degrade and abuse people. Im not sure if Chloe needs to hit rock bottom before she turn things around or this is heading towards a corruption arc. However im also annoyed when parts of her fandom claim it’s misogynistic that she doesn’t get better.

Because sometimes bad people stay bad and never get better, it would be a very powerful lesson to teach kids who are in toxic abusive relationships especially with childhood friends that sometimes you have to let them go and cut them off because they’re causing you harm. It was very powerful of Adrien to stand up to Chloe multiple times as an abuse victim and not let her drag him down to her level. All the people mad at him for queen banana don’t realize that Adrien can’t make chloe a kinder person. No one can make someone mean good.

Plus the show is chock full of actual good and kind girls with positive supportive friendships so having one or even two female characters turn out bad isn’t sexist to me. Same with people who claim Zoe is a Mary Sue and it’s wrong that she’s replacing Chloe. Which is weird because Zoe can’t replace what Chloe never was, a friend to the main cast. Chloe was never close with the class or their friend even if she tried to be involved in their projects he never tried to get along with the others.

Plus Zoe made a mistake by trying to emulate her family and be a bully but eventually realized being awful like them wasn’t worth their approval. Whether she’s a better hero or deserves the miraculous is another discussion but we’re talking about Chloe here. If she continues down the path of selfishness and hate becoming like her mother and her sister Zoe, who also comes from an abusive family, doesn’t that just means one overcame their trauma and the other didn’t.

Sorry for the rant just I’m so tired of seeing the tag be cluttered up by Chloe apologists who won’t stop crying or complaining about her character.

With what the canon actually gave us, Chloé's arc could have gone, and could still go, either way on the redemption/corruption scale. Yes, Chloé messed up royally in the season three finale, but she was under duress to a degree. While Chloé showed few signs of becoming a selfless hero, since most of the people she helped as a hero were people she put in bad situations to begin with or she helped out to get to hang out with Ladybug, she's also showed no signs of becoming a true villain the same way Lila has. We can clearly see Lila developing into a supervillain, but Chloé is very much stuck in the middle and could go either way if she suddenly got superpowers with no strings attached.

The real issue here is Chloé's civilian life. She's never been kind to her classmates and goes out of her way to make sure they have a bad time. This has never been influenced by whether or not she had a Miraculous, so obviously something not-superpowers-related needs to happen for her to see anything wrong with what she's doing.

And there's a real chance Zoé is meant to be that thing that makes Chloé see. Chloé could see how her sister was forgiven and welcomed by her classmates and realize how easy it is to stop being awful and get validation and friendship from the class that way. This realization might make her look down on the class as gullible fools, like Lila, or it might make Chloé want to belong and try to adjust her behavior, having her follow Zoé's lead.

Of course there's still a chance that Chloé will just keep swinging between sitcom arch nemesis and not-quite-a-supervillain, that she'll still be used as a civilian life obstacle for the heroes to overcome and she's not meant to be redeemed or corrupted. In this case I can see this fandom discourse continuing for years to come, since it's the uncertainty of Chloé's role that's fuelling it so much.

Crying misogyny every time your favorite female character is treated in a way you don't like, when it’s used in a way that’s clearly just a buzzword meant to manipulate people, is something I'm just so done with. In the case of Miraculous, though, it's especially misguided, with how much the creators clearly try to be feminist. It's one thing to say something they did fails at that goal and leans into sexist attitudes and another to say they're being purposefully misogynistic because the show isn’t to your tastes. Because, let’s face it, a lot of the show’s attempts at being progressive have been tone deaf, but it usually seems to happen by accident and sometimes, at least with Fei’s design, they seem to be willing to amend a mistake when it gets pointed out.

Also, because sexism and feminism are about gender politics, the thing with discussing sexism is not actually comparing a female character with other female characters, it's about comparing a female character with male characters. If a show aims for gender equality, a character's gender can't influence how they are treated. This means we need to see if we can compare Chloé's character to a male character and find equality.

And we can. Miraculous Ladybug has a male character who causes others pain on purpose. This same character has several chances to stop being awful with "not being awful" costing him nothing. He even shows a softer side in 'Style Queen', just like Chloé in that same episode, but ultimately tosses that change aside when he finds something he thinks can help him gain his goals, like Chloé does in 'Miracle Queen'.

I am of course talking about Gabriel Agreste. I have repeatedly said that Marinette and Chloé are mirrors, what the other could be if they changed how they view other people and themselves. Gabriel is a foil to Marinette, so he naturally mirrors Chloé as well. However, Gabriel's arc has a similar forwards-and-backwards beat as Chloé's does. Even Chloé Apologists recognize the similarities between the two, since I've seen them voicing concerns that Gabriel might get redeemed while Chloé doesn't, because they think Gabriel having sympathetic aspects is a sign of a redemption arc for him like it supposedly was for Chloé. Instead, they are still both firmly in the area of antagonists and villains.

Although I will concede one key difference: Chloé is still way more likely to get redeemed than Gabriel.

I also think that, even if Chloé does get redeemed eventually, it’s still important that Adrien didn’t just hang on waiting for it when she spent so long proving again and again that she didn’t want to change. Because the other characters couldn’t know for sure if Chloé would change. Just like in the real world you won’t know for sure if your toxic friend will ever change, so you might have to let them go for your own sake. Even if they might get better one day, even if you’re not their target, it’s not on you to stand by them when they do things that are against your personal ethics.

#ml fandom salt #long post

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nancylou444 · 3 years

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I tried to be nice

Replies to this post:

------------------------

Became this:

THEM: hi! thanks for the answers I really appreciate the discussion. normally if someone ships something I don’t like or something like that, I’ll just leave them alone but.. just to be clear I completely respect all of your opinions, even agree with some of them, even if we might disagree on the incest and Castiel haha. So I don’t mean any disrespect with this at all, please let me know if I’m out of line though!

But... I saw some things you said, and they come across to me in a way that I don’t think you intended? I feel really awkward sending this haha, you’re very nice and I don’t think you said anything on purpose, but I just.. wanted to let you know that some of the things regarding your opinion on certain characters come across not very well? I don’t think it’s intentional or anything, and I don’t mean to call you out at all which is why I didn’t want to point it out in the replies y’know?

Don’t get me wrong though, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with not liking castiel or destiel. I’ve been watching the show for a while with my dad, and he isn’t a huge fan either, I don’t think that’s a problem :)

I’d continue without waiting for a response but I don’t want to say something you’ve already been told, or continue without knowing if I’ve said something out of line already 😅

ME: I'm kind of distracted dealing with my Mom's rehab center. But you can keep going.

THEM: Alright! I’ve tried rephrasing this a million times but I don’t know how to make it seem not antagonistic. I promise I don’t mean that you’re doing it intentionally, it’s just, uh a lot of your criticism of spn feels like it could be read as homophobic? Again I don’t think YOU are I just wanted you to know it kind of reads that way!

That sounded so confrontational. I really don’t mean it that way 😭

ME: HOMOPHOBIC? Really? A lot of the 'proof' your fellow shippers use border on stereotypes but you think I'M homophobic? Considering my top two ships are Wincest and Malec. Yeah, sounds confrontational.

THEM: I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I guess there’s no other way to say it, but I understand why you feel accused. What do you mean by proof..?

Also I don’t really think having gay ships means you can’t be homophobic. *I* used to be homophobic years ago, and I’m a gay person!

ME: How old are you? https://nancylou444.tumblr.com/post/154098904136/a-guide-to-dean-winchesters-imaginary-bisexuality

THEM: yeah this is starting to get frustrating. I’m gonna be real with you, why does it matter if people think dean is bisexual? like, bottom line, that is my question for you

and your answer will determine if your veracity is homophobic. why does it matter that some people think dean is bisexual. not the fans or actors or writers or anything. why does it matter that some viewers will watch, and they will think dean is bisexual?

ME: My problem isn't that some people think he is bi IN FANON, my problem is that they want CONFIRMATION OF A FANON SHIP. And that some people DENY how the show ended. These same people think that fake weddings are more canon than the FINAL EPISODE.

THEM: I get what you mean, but how is it a fanon ship when it’s confirmed romantic from one side, and interpretable as mutually reciprocated in Latin America? (I’m going to disregard the bit about the wedding, because I’m a firm believer in Neil Gaiman variety death of the author. Also that’s just people having fun with fanon, who cares?)

ME: Confirmed romantic?By whom MISHA, who wanted to sell necklaces? Have you never said 'i love you' to a FRIEND or FAMILY member? The dub is not canon, so don't even try using that as proof. Death of the author is just another way of saying MY VIEW OF THE SHOW IS SUPERIOR TO HOW THE CREATOR WANTS TO SEE IT. Jensen has said many times that the ship isn't canon and that Dean is straight. But it's better to believe what Misha says because he agrees with you. You think somebody is bi because of how they sit or the color clothes they wear? That would make YOU homophobe.

THEM: LOL You know what? I change my answer. I looked through your blog and you ACTIVELY and viscously hate Cas, Charlie, Claire, Kaia and the implication that Jack may not be straight. You’ve said Cas coming out as gay and in love with dean makes the rest of his actions predatory, compared him to a teenage girl, called him creepy, and openly rejoiced in your idea that dean looked ‘disgusted with him’. You said that Claire is awful, that Kaia is a wooden plank, that they ‘shoved them together’ for ‘woke points’ and said that Jody saying Claire was IN LOVE WITH Kaia ‘doesnt count’ and called it ‘lip service’. And it doesn’t end there! After all this, you said that you preferred the old better s4 Claire. Is it because she was ostensibly straight? Are you uncomfortable with queer women? And then you have the audacity to use these characters (Claire and Kaia and Charlie) as reasons to epicly own the Hellers and claim they already have represention. You are a completely disingenuous bitch and I don’t care to be nice to you anymore! I don’t feel AT ALL charitable toward you anymore, and I don’t care if you have gay ships. Gay people aren’t here for you to fetishize! You CONSTANTLY mock and ridicule jokes made by queer people regarding deans bisexuality or Cas being gay or any number of things. You constantly reaffirm that Dean is straight and call people who think otherwise delusional and disgusting, while you think dean is in romantic sexual love with his male sibling. You are openly hostile to the idea of non-binary jack and were pissed that Alcal endorsed that. You devalue Jack’s value and relationship to Cas who is, textually, his father figure. I have NO reason not to think that you are homophobic. I don’t care anymore! You’re a huge bitch and, judging by your prior responses and posts, a genuine dialogue regarding queerness in spn is impossible. You regard any instance of canonically queer moments ‘lip service’ and so regard it. You actively hate every canonically gay character and degrade them using traditionally homophobic tropes and stereotypes.

Feel free to explain how you aren’t homophobic. I’m so sorry if I got the wrong impression.

ME: Wow I see your true colors have come out HELLER.

THEM: Idc if you think I’m mean. Go ahead and make a post about me lol, have fun with it. Give me a moment to respond to your paragraph it’s... a lot to dissect.

I’ll touch on your comments about the dub and the Spanish language in a moment. First though

I ’m gonna be real with you, I don’t think you know what death of the author is. Neil Gaiman’s variety of the dead author principal is that once canon ends, the story belongs to those that consume and engage with it. That’s... also literally the theme of supernaturals final season. Anyway I really recommend you read up on death of the author and Neil Gaiman’s takes on fanon. It’s a fun way to consume your media, and in the end that’s what I’m here for.

I don’t care what Misha says, and I don’t care what Jensen says! I think they are both queer because I have eyes and watched the show. I think it’s a lovely narrative that is supported by canon, and it’s fine if you disagree with that

On your last sentence there... lol. It’s a common joke in queer circles that gays can’t sit properly, specifically bisexuals. Same thing with the clothing, it’s a SUPER common joke for example that lesbians wear flannel. Maybe you need to go outside and talk to some normal, non-incest shipping queer people. But what do I know!

And finally... ‘the Spanish dub isnt canon’

I am literally cuban. My first language is SPANISH. my entire household speaks Spanish, and my family past 1st cousins don’t speak any English. My Boricua cousins have watched supernatural in full for years, and they watch it in Spanish. Do you think America is the center of the universe? Do you think our media is somehow less than yours, that our interpretations of English language media isn’t valid? What, do you think we are idiots who don’t know how to analyze literature and media? Do you think the people who work at Telemundo, people employed as dubbers and translators, you think they do a worse job than the American crew?

Why, because they aren’t American or don’t speak English? ‘Te amo’ said to a non family member is, in 99% of any instance, ROMANTIC. it’s something you say to your spouse in serious situations like weddings!! Even MARRIED people don’t normally say te amo, everyone uses te quiero unless it is very serious or romantic in context.

All of my family who are Spanish language, they heard dean say ‘y a yo ti, cas’ and think that they were in romantic love. Sorry dude! The United States might be the center of your universe, but Latin America is HUGE. Spanish is one of the most spoken languages in the WORLD. In fact, more people speak Spanish than English. Sorry that you seem to hate gay characters SO MUCH you have to say an entire language somehow isn’t valid to consume media in!

ME:

Obviously this heller is batshit crazy.

Some of those things she thinks I said just show she has no idea how to follow a tumblr thread.

You are a completely disingenuous bitch and I don’t care to be nice to you anymore! I don’t feel AT ALL charitable toward you anymore, and I don’t care if you have gay ships. Gay people aren’t here for you to fetishize! You CONSTANTLY mock and ridicule jokes made by queer people regarding deans bisexuality or Cas being gay or any number of things. You constantly reaffirm that Dean is straight and call people who think otherwise delusional and disgusting, while you think dean is in romantic sexual love with his male sibling.

Wow.

I have NO reason not to think that you are homophobic. I don’t care anymore! You’re a huge bitch and, judging by your prior responses and posts, a genuine dialogue regarding queerness in spn is impossible. You regard any instance of canonically queer moments ‘lip service’ and so regard it. You actively hate every canonically gay character and degrade them using traditionally homophobic tropes and stereotypes.

Where have I hated canon gay characters and degraded them using tropes and stereotypes? The bitch has me confused with HER FELLOW SHIPPERS.

Gotta love how she is defending the Spanish dub. Hit a nerve did I?

It’s a common joke in queer circles that gays can’t sit properly, specifically bisexuals. Same thing with the clothing, it’s a SUPER common joke for example that lesbians wear flannel. Maybe you need to go outside and talk to some normal, non-incest shipping queer people.

Now who is using stereotypes?

#destiehellers #batshit crazy #your headcanon doesn't mean shit dean is straight #dub doesn't make it canon

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forsakenoathkeeper · 3 years

Text

I Am Alive (chapter 11/?)

Chapter 11: Interface

Deviant!Connor[RK800] x (fem!)Reader Rated M(18+) for canon-typical violence and gore, medical procedures, and graphic sexual content

Chapters: 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 • 10 • 11 • 12 • more coming soon

You can also read on AO3 & thank you for supporting me ♥

It didn't go unnoticed by you in the following days how distant Connor was, always a hairline away, like he was suddenly no longer allowed to touch you.

On the night of the second day, when you caught him doing it again, you confronted him, trapping him against the counter in his kitchen. He had turned around and noticed you standing there, right behind him.

He could have easily pushed you out of the way; but, Connor was far too polite for that. If you were being honest, in that moment, you were taking advantage of his politeness.

"Please, tell me what's wrong?" you asked, trying not to be too demanding.

"You left dirty dishes in the sink," Connor deflected smoothly.

You crossed your arms and gave him a look, the kind that said you wouldn't fall for that. His hands were resting on the edge of the counter in an odd manner, further proving your concerns. Connor's eyes shifted nervously between your gaze and the sink before deciding to let go of that attempt.

"I had lied to you about what I was," he replied quietly.

"You never lied to me about anything," you quickly retorted, voice gentle. You grabbed at his inner elbows, trying to pull his arms away from the counter and towards you. At first, he didn't nudge at all against your insisting touch.

Eventually, he gave in and let you pull his arms towards yourself. He followed and curled his arms around your lower back, leaning into your body until you were embracing loosely.

As an android, could withstand much greater temperatures than most humans. There were very few natural occurring temperatures in the world that could set off his temperature warnings. However, when he pushed against the fabric of your clothes so he could reach bare skin, and felt how warm you were, Connor suddenly felt very cold.

You shuddered a little, likely because his fingers were a little cold compared to the skin at your lower back. Some selfish part of himself didn't mind, wanting to steal your warmth, even though he didn't need it.

"-because you were designed to hunt deviants?" you asked. "Is that what's wrong?"

Connor tore his eyes away from yours and stared blindly over your shoulder. "I should have told you. I was keeping something from you that I thought would-... would jeopardize our relationship. It was self-serving."

You smiled up at him, feeling oddly enamored at the thought of Connor being selfish, because he had proved to be anything but. Or, maybe, you were feeling pride in knowing that he felt that way about you - felt a little possessive over you.

"It's normal to want to keep some things about yourself a secret, Connor," you offered, nudging his nose with your own. "It's not just about relationships, but, just, wanting a little bit of privacy."

It took him a second, but he eventually reciprocated to your nudging, pressing his nose into your temple for a moment before lowering his head so that his forehead was nuzzled against the side of your skull.

"I'm not upset with you, or afraid of you, or anything like that," you offered. "You don't have to tell me everything."

The thought of him standing on stage with Markus, the leader of the deviants, felt different with your new found knowledge of Connor's original purpose. He had chosen to stand with the man he was supposed to take down. He had chosen to defy his creators, to become the very thing he was supposed to stop.

"You have the right to know things that could potentially make me an unsuitable partner," he said lowly, sounding a little frustrated.

"You don't owe me every little thing about yourself, Connor," you replied, breath warm on his cheeks. "All these things should come when you're ready. Besides, I found out unfairly. If anything, you should be mad at me."

Connor shook his head a little, immediately disregarding the suggestion that he should be upset with you. You had come into his life so unexpectedly and changed his perception of himself, changed what he thought he knew about himself, changed what he thought he was capable of.

There were things he had never disclosed with another soul that he wanted to pour all over you.

"Why would your designed purpose make you unsuitable?" you asked, a little insistent. If there was anything you didn't want Connor to feel, it was unsuitable - for you, for love, for anything good in this world.

"I-" he began, finding himself simultaneously restless and stiff.

You leaned back enough to look up into his brown eyes with patience and longing. Connor caught your gaze and stared back, getting lost in the look you were giving him.

"When I was a machine, there was software in my operating system that connected me to Cyberlife," he explained hoarsely and you listened carefully, hanging off his every word.

"The interface was named Amanda. She was my owner, in a way: gave me missions, praised me when I did well..." Connor's eyes flickered away for a moment. "-threatened me when I didn't."

His eyes returned to yours and he continued. It was clear to you that this was therapy for Connor, even if he didn't understand why he wanted to share all this.

"At the android march, Cyberlife tried to take control of my body. I almost - I was afraid I couldn't stop it. I nearly shot Markus before I took back control," he confessed, whispering harshly. "I wasn't aware they could do that until that moment. Escaping this-... prison inside me was the hardest thing I've ever done."

Connor paused when he felt your hands running up and down his biceps, trying to soothe the stammer in his voice. He could almost feel the chill again. It was the only time he had never known what it was like to be cold, to feel the wind biting at his skin, to feel so utterly exhausted in a place that existed inside himself.

"I am the most advanced android designed by Cyberlife." It wasn't spoken with confidence, but with regret. "Sometimes I still-... feel it: factory defaults." He uttered the last two words harshly, like he was growling out a curse.

"Remnants of the deviant hunter will always remain," you whispered, dominant hand rising to cup his cheek. Connor leaned into the touch, eyes fluttering shut. You startled a little when the skin on his cheek faded away to interface with you. You smiled and nudged your thumb affectionally against his cheek bone.

"There's nothing wrong with that part of you," you continued. "You turned it into something beautiful, detective."

Detective - someone who tried to right the wrongs, who protected people, who saved people, who gave a voice to those who could not speak for themselves. Maybe, the correct answer would have been to become the exact opposite of what he was made to do. But, Connor truly liked this part of himself.

"When I told you I loved the android parts of you, I meant it," you insisted, hands shimmying down so you could wrap your arms around his lower back. Connor's eyes opened and he looked at you softly. "Deviant hunter, too, Connor. All your software, all your bio-components..."

"While I do not anticipate that I am a danger to you, or anyone else-" Connor explained stiffly. "-and my diagnostics no longer show remnants of Cyberlife's infiltration and remote programs, you have every right to be concerned. I check regularly, in case I am... incorrect..."

Connor trailed off when he saw the wicked smile on your face. "You are a danger to me," you teased softly. The android's LED briefly flickered to scarlet red before immediately shifting back to blue.

"I don't know what I would do without you," you explained.

Well, you knew what you would do. You would work lots of overtime to make up for the fact that all your friends were your coworkers and you went home to an empty, lonely shack in a less than favorable neighborhood.

Without Connor, you would be so utterly lonely.

He was an android. You couldn't possibly understand what he had to endure, what kind of internal struggles he continued with, the constant abuse from humans. From what you had seen, Connor powered through it with a brave face.

You had not shared much about your own life with him, unless it pertained to androids. Connor had lived a much shorter time than you; yet, his life was so much more accomplished, held so much more meaning and purpose.

You were just a simple girl from a big city and Connor was one of a kind both in his design and of his own making, by his own choices.

Despite all that, you had never felt this close to another person before.

"You would be with someone else," Connor stated, sounding almost offended. You gawked up at him, startled by the determined look he was giving you.

In his eyes, you were wonderful, beautiful, selfless, and brave. If he hadn't been so insistent, practically demanding of your attention, surely someone else would have. He couldn't imagine others not seeking your affections.

"I doubt that," you said bashfully. "I don't really put myself out there. I came onto you really strong... -like a dumb, horny teenager." You laughed a little, nervous beneath his scrutinizing eyes. You didn't regret it for a second: not Connor, nor what you had done. But, sometimes, you feared you had pushed him too strongly.

"I haven't been chaste, either," Connor offered softly. "We are not a... conventional couple." He didn't seem unsettled by that information, but more worried that you would think poorly of yourself for being forthcoming with your desires.

You giggled, brief and soft. "None of my relationships have been like this."

"They weren't androids," Connor stated.

"It's not that," you said sharply, almost scoldingly, shaking your head a little. "They weren't like this, like you, like-..."

You had loved before, in a way; but, you weren't ever in love, not like this. Nothing had ever come close to being this strong or feeling this real.

With Connor, you felt a sort of peace you never thought possible in your life. You felt like there was nothing you couldn't trust him with. He made you feel so small and so mighty at the same time.

You felt like he had given you a part of yourself that was missing; but, you felt conflicted in telling him that. You didn't want him to feel trapped or caged by you.

You had no doubt that Connor cared for you; but, there was no denying the reality that he would live much longer than you. You would grow old while he would remain young and strong and beautiful forever.

Eventually, it would come to an end-

"I've never been this close to someone before," you admitted quietly. "I - I just feel like-... You understand me better than anyone else and I feel so - I - maybe I'm projecting here-" you trailed off, feeling suddenly breathless.

Connor reached around to take hold of your dominant hand and remove it from his back. He lined up your hands, palm to palm, fingers and thumbs mirrored. For a moment, he forgot himself, forgot that you were human and couldn't interface with him. Still, he tried, the skin of his hand fading away and his joints and knuckles glowing blue.

You stared, awestruck, even though you had seen him do this dozens of times.

"You're not projecting," he whispered harshly. "We can't interface; but, I feel like we do, all the time."

You looked up at him. His eyes were closed, brow furrowed, and LED yellow, like he was trying to think, really, really hard. He wanted to interface with you, more than he could put to words, to show you how much you meant to him, to show you things that language was incapable of, to show you how he felt.

"I'm sorry," you choked out.

His eyes opened and he looked at you.

"Androids are so beautiful," you breathed. "-that you can connect like this and - all humans can do is-"

Connor leaned down and pressed his mouth against yours to silence what he knew was going to follow, the disdain you were going to put on yourself. He knew the limitations of humans very well. None of that mattered when it came to you.

"Connor-" you breathed against his lips.

He breathed your name back, like a hush.

"I'm - I'm supposed to be making you feel better, not the other way around," you whispered defiantly.

"I do," he replied, nudging his forehead against your temple. "You always make me feel better."

He felt like he had the world cradled against him, and he didn't want to let go. You continued to embrace until Connor felt you starting to sag against him. Through your touch, he could sense your breathing pattern had started to change, and realized you were dozing off.

"Come on. It's late," he said quietly. However, instead of letting you respond, Connor took initiative and picked you up, scooping you into his arms like you weighed nothing.

"W-woah," you stammered. "Geez, Connor."

"Were you falling asleep?" he asked teasingly as he carried you to the bedroom.

"N-no," you retorted sharply. You felt his chuckle more so than heard it. He tucked you into bed, helped you change - or, undress, more actually - before stripping down to the same state and nuzzling in close behind you.

That night, while you slept, Connor laid next to you and rolled through his memories.

"What I want is not important," is what he had said to Kamski, his creator, when the man had asked him what he wanted. The mission was more important, what his creators expected of him was more important; or, at least, that was what he had told himself at the time.

Even back then, he wanted to enforce the law, to bring justice, to give a voice to those who didn't have one. He wanted to prevent a civil war that would bring about the death of thousands, potentially millions, of humans.

When he accepted his deviancy, those things didn't go away. His wants evolved. He wanted freedom for his people - for androids, so they could live with the kind of freedom he was fortunate enough to have in this moment.

Now... now, he wanted so much more.

Selfish things-

Human things-

He wanted to live a life that involved choices undictated by orders. He wanted to experience the world in all its vastness, waiting for him. He wanted to go to places he had only seen through the HUD in his processor, in videos and photos. He wanted to be there - to feel, to smell, to learn with his own hands.

-and he wanted you by his side every step of the way.

He wanted to create memories with you, to share the world with you.

Connor's arm was resting over your abdomen, his hand caressing yours. You had returned his gentle grip until you fell asleep and your touch slackened. His thumb brushed against your knuckles and lowered, sliding along your ring finger just past the knuckle, and he thought about what could fit there.

It was a strange feeling. He found himself constantly longing for these things that felt so humanlike, so beyond what he was designed to do, things he once thought were all that he was capable of.

"What do you really want?" he could still hear Kamski's voice in his head.

To be free. To be wild and untamed and live life without fear of what he was and how the world might perceive him. To see the world as more than analytical data. To not see every step as a branching path, where one wrong move could ruin everything. To live life as if there was a chance he could die tomorrow.

He wanted you-

-to be his forever.

#connor x reader #deviant connor x reader #dbh fanfic #rk800 smut #rk800 x reader #connor smut #connor fanfic

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rainbowsky · 3 years

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Final round-up of fan fic asks

I've gotten a few more interesting responses to the fan fic discussion so I'm going to round them all up here. This will be my final post on the topic until/unless there's a dramatic new development, or a particularly notable response I want to highlight. Thanks to everyone who brought their thoughts and experiences to the topic. I hope everyone at least feels heard.

The biggest piece of advice that I would like to offer is for everyone to focus on what they love rather than what they hate. If we all did that, the world would be a better place. Alongside that, I'd like to remind everyone to please support authors whose work you like. It's so important. Give them a kudos, give them a nice comment, recommend their work to others. You never know what kind of grief and harassment they are dealing with to bring you these great stories, and our support means a lot.

This is in reference to previous posts here and here.

Anonymous asked:

With regard to fandom and fan fic issue, my years of experience being part of very large fandoms has led me to believe that big accounts are v important in facilitating and enforcing the general consensus of the whole fandom. Unless there will be big accs who'll remind everyone of being respectful & just not being a dick over other's preferences, nothing will change.

This is also the reason why I think certain solo fandoms have adapted weird and twisted narratives as their general fandom story because no big acc has tried to police them & and say hey pls be rational. Whether we like it or not, in a place where how far voices, ideas, tweets, posts get heard is based on the number of followers you have, big accs will have the power and influence in creating/curating/shifting the narratives.

So, if you want to know why your/our fandom thinks like this in general, look at what big accs are tweeting/posting, look at what ideas & values they follow, look at their preferences or how strongly they react to certain situations. it's taxing and toxic for big accs given the nature of social media these days, but it's also the reality of system, the more followers/audience you have, the more influence you will have.

So to anyone reading this I hope we all practice more restraint and reflection before we post anything. Remember that words, no matter what medium you write it in, will always carry weight.

So true. It is easy - even for myself who spends a fair chunk of time answering people's asks - to forget that people can sometimes be impressionable and what we say can influence people whether that's our intent or not. I get used to thinking of myself as a regular guy just doing my own thing when sometimes my thoughts and words go well beyond where I initially posted them.

I think it's important for us to be careful what we say, and it's equally important to be careful what we take from what other people say. Especially when it comes to big claims. Always get a second, third, fourth opinion and don't be afraid to ask for clarification if something doesn't sit right or sounds confusing.

It's also important to reflect on how our words and actions might affect other people's experience of fandom, and err on the side of 'live and let live' wherever possible. It's great to have our own preferences and to champion them, but we should try to do so in a way that leaves space for other people and perspectives.

The more unique perspectives and the more friendly, open dialog there is, the healthier the community will be as a whole.

There's nothing wrong with encouraging and guiding growth in the particular areas we are interested in, as long as it doesn't step on, oppress or attack those who are peacefully enjoying something different.

Anonymous 2 asked: bjyx fans attacking gdgdbaby for including zsww/lsfy dynamics in an event named bjyx then turning right around and attacking the zsww/lsfy event organizer for excluding bjyx? god, can you hear my facepalm and sigh of resignation and incredulity from over there? im genuinely not surprised that they're trying to drive an entire part of the fandom out by disgusting them (and me) with these immature tactics. i believe what im about to say next will sound quite bait-y and i respect your decision 1/?

should you choose not to post this. but i do know that it is not only me, in fact there are many out there, that is of this opinion. we just dont talk about it on twitter to avoid the potential mess it will bring lol. okay, here goes nothing. (do note that im talking about the majority here, not every single person is like this) so bjyx fans tend to be cishet females whereas zsww/lsfy fans are more diverse in terms of age and gender, and most of them are part of the queer community too 2/?

i would like to clarify that most of these zsww/lsfy fans are not dynamic exclusive (in the sense that they are friendly and interact with all ggdd fans) they just prefer to "identify" themselves as zsww/lsfy fans (on twitter specifically) just to form a distinction from bjyx fans who mostly are dynamic exclusive (as in; they do not consume non-bjyx content, and straightup refuse to interact with non-bjyx fans, often blocking them). as a result, id say that the zsww/lsfy communiy is way more 3/?

mature and respectful (after all, they're mostly queer people talking about a queer ship) whereas many problems in this fandom, such as the homophobia, adamantly insisting on "drawing lines" between dynamics, stem from the bjyx exclusive fans, comprised of cishet females who "may not know better". so, it is of no surprise to me that they're resorting to these immature tactics of calling gg unsavory names, and organizing retaliatory events with controversial topics in an attempt to "purify". 4/4

I trust that you have arrived at that theory through your own experience and observation. I haven't personally spent much time immersed in this stuff so I can't claim to have any real insight or expertise. If you say that's your experience of it, then at the very least that's how you've seen things up to this point.

I just want to say that I think we should always be careful about making assumptions about people's age, gender/gender identity, etc.

There are plenty of good reasons to avoid doing that; because those assumptions could be very wrong, because those assumptions are often laced with ageism, sexism, etc., because those assumptions - even when correct - might not be an accurate basis for the conclusions we draw.

But the primary reason I recommend avoiding those type of assumptions is because anything that enables us to clump a group of people together in our minds like that will tend to make them easier to demonize and dehumanize. They are no longer individuals who are each responsible for their own unique perspectives, they are now 'the X group' who is known for 'A B C series of easily attackable ideas or behaviors'.

If we attribute undesirable traits and behaviors to a group of people we feel opposed to in some way, that makes us feel more righteous and justified in behaving unfairly toward them, dismissing their humanity and warring with them. It's just risky behavior to engage in, even when it's well-intentioned.

There might actually be some truth to what you're saying. It could very well be that most of these people are young, inexperienced, heteronormative, etc. but if that's the case then we should try to use those traits to better understand and empathize rather than to better dismiss and discredit.

Just my two cents on that.

It can be really frustrating dealing with what feels like other people attacking us, trying to oppress us, etc. - especially when there are more of them than there are of us. In my experience the best solutions to that sort of problem are generally the ones that focus on what we are doing and want to do rather than what they are doing that we don't want them to do.

As I am always preaching, we can't control what other people say, do or think. The only thing we have any control over is what we say, do and think (and how we respond to what they say, do and think).

I have found in my experience that the moment I step out of a conflict mindset and instead step into a problem-solving mindset, everything starts to come together. I feel better, my outlook is more positive, I can begin to see solutions and allies rather than problems and enemies, and most of all, I become more focused on what I am doing than what others are doing.

So I would recommend everyone who is invested in resolving these conflicts focus on that. "How can we best showcase and encourage the types of stories we enjoy?" instead of "How can we stop these other people from doing things we dislike?"

Anonymous 3 asked:

Hello again! It’s anon #3 from the fanfic post. I really do appreciate reading your thoughts on various issues like this, so thank you for always taking time to write in depth. As for supporting without going to war, the simplest way has always been to just show appreciation for the creators, hype them up. Kudos are the easiest way on ao3 but comments in addition are great. This goes for all content—art, fics, vids..etc. Creators love to see and read how people react to their content. Sharing is also great, fic recs are very helpful, just be cautious with art and reposting though. Hope this helps a bit!

Thanks so much, Anon. I think this is excellent advice. And it's true that appreciation is great, but helping to expand the audience is also great. Recommending stories, pointing people to the pages/websites of artists we like (as opposed to reposting), sharing our own ideas and approaches, encouraging people to try new things... all of this helps build healthier communities.

And here's another one: WRITE! DRAW! CREATE!

I urge anyone with creative interests or talents to bring their voices to the community because we all can benefit from hearing from you.

Thanks again everyone for sharing your thoughts on this issue. I hope that over time we can all work in positive ways to improve the situation.

I think this subject has been well-covered now so I'm going to retire it for the time being. If anyone still feels they want to discuss it further please feel free to message me privately. Thanks.

#fan fiction #fandom reflections #ask

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felassan · 4 years

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What is your opinion on Flemeth? I see so many fans praising her for being a bamf grandma, for saving Hawke and it confuses me. Didn't she abandon Elves? Didn't she abuse Morrigan? According to them not, because she was hurt and sad during their confrontation or that she actually never planned to possess her body. Her supposed friendship with Solas is iffy to me too.

Hi Nonnie! This answer is under a cut for sensitivity as it mentions abuse, and for length.

I think there’s nuance here. Liking (or appreciating the storybeats from) a fictional character, in the context of them as a character, doesn’t mean liking them as a person or agreeing with their actions. It also doesn’t mean that you’d endorse such actions happening in the real world, or that you’d like, support or spend time with such a person in real life. We separate the two. It’s okay to like her character and it’s okay to not like her. Certain things can also be true simultaneously - for example, like many characters in Dragon Age, Flemythal has done things that have had good impacts (such as saving Hawke, although it should be noted that she did this for her own benefit and in pursuit of her own ends), and she’s also done things that are questionable or even bad.

I like Flemythal as a character in a fictional setting. I find her very interesting. Mysterious, complicated, cryptic, plot-integral. I like that she’s powerful (she is pretty badass) and clearly has her own ends and agenda. That’s agency. Her voice casting is second-to-none and I find her involvement to have been one of the intriguing (and arguably iconic) staples of the series. She generates a lot of speculation and theorycrafting given that a lot of questions still remain about her, her past involvement in events and possibly her future involvement also. It’s also nice to see a visibly older woman in a prominent role, as they are often underused or underrepresented in media.

That said, she wasn’t a good mother. I don’t think she’s a good person, and multiple elements of her relationship with Morrigan do read as abusive (in several different ways too, as abuse has several forms). Morrigan compares her to Kalah Brosca, which is self-explanatory. Morrigan recounts times when Flemythal broke her possessions, taught her harsh lessons, told her horrifying stories, punished her or only gave her gifts which came at a cost. Morrigan’s Fade nightmare in the Circle Tower consists of the spirit/demon emulating her mother hitting her and saying horrible things (and such Fade-scenarios do in a way reflect what happened or what was perceived to have happened by the ‘experiencer’ in ‘the real’). Flemythal was manipulative, insulting and told half-truths to her. Morrigan’s personality is also in large part due to her background, Flemythal’s influence, treatment and teachings; it’s why she values survival and power above all, thinks that love is a weakness and makes some off-color, heartbreaking comments about love as a concept. It speaks of both the reality of what the Evanuris were like (compared to the Dalish conception of them as the Creators), the impact the murder of Mythal had on her as a being and of the further impact functionally fusing with the intensely aggrieved/angered human Flemeth, that this is the kind of parent that Mythal the Protector and All-Mother, goddess of love and patron of motherhood, was to Morrigan. Thinking of it in those terms makes it seem sadly ironic and puts me in the mind of the perversion of spirits of Justice away from their purpose towards Vengeance (not literally exactly, but thematically?).

Prior to the murder, Mythal in her fullness was the “best” of the Evanuris, according to Solas’ account, but even then... The best of a bad bunch is not exactly much of an accolade, and although she cared for and protected her people and was often a voice of reason compared to other Evanuris that would mitigate the worst of their whims and excesses, she was still... a false-god divine-pretender, and essentially the queen of their extremely classist empire system. She may have had slaves marked with slave-brands. She struck down some Titans and gave their “land” to the People, and did “something” ominous-sounding to the Titans and/or the dwarves. She was a patron of vengeance as well as justice. Some accounts paint her as dark and vengeful, and Solas admits that she was “both of these [both the ‘good’ and the ‘bad’ versions of her from the tales] and neither.” (“It’s more complicated than that”!) To add, Mythal being the best of them is Solas’ opinion, no doubt partially colored by his personal history with her. It’s difficult to comment on Mythal in her fullness and the Evanuris in general though, as all we have are partially biased accounts and scraps like misremembered tales and Codex entries which each come filtered through the respective lens of their writer.

Flemythal did seem to express sadness or regret in her DAI encounter with Morrigan. This is another one of those situations with nuance and where two things can be true at the same time. Flemythal was a bad parent and was abusive towards Morrigan. Flemythal also seems to care for her, in a way. I make no comment on other peoples’ experiences or on the majority of cases, and in no way would Flemythal’s treatment of and dynamic with Morrigan be acceptable in a real life situation, just, speaking from direct personal experience, there are sometimes instances where the abusive relative did care about their respective family member at the time, and later felt sad and regretful about the things they did to them and the impact it had on them. And she did intend the essence of her godhood as a gift for Morrigan, not hostile possession.

Her abandonment of the elves is something that can come up both with Lavellan and other Inquisitors in those scenes: “If Mythal is a part of you, why haven’t you helped us? We’ve called to you, prayed to you.” “[looks away and looks sad] What was could not be changed.” “What about now? You know so much.” “You know not what you ask, child.” // “If Mythal is within you why not reveal yourself?” “And to whom should I reveal myself?” “To the elves, to everyone!” “Hah... I knew the hearts of men even before Mythal came to me. It is why she came to me. They do not want the truth, and I... I am but a shadow lingering in the sun.” I do wish she had interacted more with the elves in Thedas, especially given the lot of modern elves there and especially considering Dalish tales of and reverence towards her as Asha’bellanar (Merrill bowing to her in DA2, how Marethari sought her out in 8:82, the clan that turned Maric and Loghain over to her, the way Lavellan can mention their people speak of her legend).

The writing in that conversation is kinda frustrating in that it’s intentionally vague and more of a non-answer than a sufficient explanation to the question posed. But there’s some Thing we don’t know yet, something we’re not supposed to know about Mythal right now. It sounds like the truth of why and of the matter isn’t simple or... pleasant (“You know not what you ask” - that sounds like worshipping her, the reality of her, wouldn’t be good). In DA2 when Merrill bows, Flemythal asks her if she knows who she is beyond the title Woman of Many Years. Merrill replies that she knows only a little, and Flemythal says “Then stand. The People bend their knee too quickly.” It sounds kinda like “If you knew I was Mythal, and if you knew what Mythal and her compatriot gods and by extension our society was like back in the day, you wouldn’t be bowing to me and wouldn’t want to worship me.” sefesjfesfeksj this gap in our knowledge is maddening lol. Or perhaps she thinks that the elves wouldn’t want the truth, would reject it or would feel worse after learning it? The revelations in DAI that the gods are false and were actually jerks, that vallaslin were originally slavemarkings, that an elf caused their downfall (not humans) and that their ancient society practised slavery and all that - it’s a lot. If so, I do wish she would’ve let them make up their own minds about it though.

There’s also the question of whether the Dalish would believe her claims if she came forth with them. Some would, but her appearance is outwardly-human as the Inquisitor can note, and Solas didn’t make any real headway with most of the Dalish he encountered when he tried to talk about some of his knowledge with them before joining the Inquisition, and that was without including the undoubtedly seismic “btw, I’m one of your gods” part. Would she even be capable of doing much to help them in her current form? A shadow lingering in the sun sounds like she’s barely a fragment of what she once was, and only has a fraction of her old power. In the modern day she’s a powerful mage who can shapeshift into a dragon and cheat death with a Horcrux, sure. Is that enough to, say, destroy the human kingdoms, or radically alter the social position of elves in Thedas? To add, if you subscribe to the belief that there’s a connection between Flemythal and Andraste (with Shartan) and/or Tyrdda Bright-Axe (with her “leaf-eared lover”), it seems that she’s tried to change things before in the past along these lines and failed.

Who are “the elves” to her, anyway? She mentions to Lavellan and Merrill how they are of the People, but we can see a back-and-forth on that subject with Solas during DAI, who at times says modern elves are his people, and at other times says they are not. Who’s to say who “the elves” or “The People” are to Flemythal in her mind, millennia later, really? If her conception of her people is ancient elves, not modern elves or both... Recall Abelas, one of Mythal’s lead acolytes: “'Our' people? The ones we see in the forest, shadows wearing vallaslin? You are not my people.” Maybe that’s why she hasn’t done much to help modern elves? If her people are the ancient elves, and if Solas’ plans don’t include modern elves, perhaps that’s why she didn’t do much for modern elves all this time but /does/ help Solas power up so that he can carry out his plans to help the ancient ones (along with the fact that her desire for vengeance depends on his success, of course). She knew he would come after all. An alternative reading is that his plans do include modern elves, but in order to save the People (and again also to get her revenge) she needed him (to gift her power to and do The Thing), and so until he woke up from his many years of slumber, all she could really do was wait for that moment? Their respective natures in the modern world are different; she’s just a spark of a dead goddess in a formerly-human vessel, a shadow lingering in the sun, and he’s still his proper full self, albeit temporarily weaker than usual. He specifically says in Trespasser that his situation isn’t comparable to Flemythal’s - “Are you a fragment of what Fen’Harel once was, like Mythal?” “No, this is all I have ever been”. It’s a stark difference in their two conditions, and it ties back to the question above of whether Flemythal’s abilities in the modern age would have been Enough to do anything concrete. In this reading, Flemythal’s nudging and influencing of history along a certain course through time, which she’s been doing in order to line up events just so so that the Evanuris will be unleashed again by Solas, take on a secondary motive too: lining up events just so so that Solas will be able to carry out his plans and in so doing, save the People.

Mythal’s relationship with Solas is another one of those things that’s difficult to comment on, as we only have hints and pieces. They were close, that much is clear from the intimacy and familiarity on both their parts in the post-credits scene, from how he speaks of her in Trespasser, and from his desire to subject the Evanuris to an eternity of torment as a fitting punishment for the crime of murdering her. Fen’Harel statues in the Temple of Mythal, which Morrigan says is a thing that seems like naked paintings of Andraste in the Chantry. Wolf ‘guardian-like’ statues on either side of her Altar. The eluvian in the post-credits flanked by both a dragon and a wolf. Statues in the Deep Roads: “Many of them are for Mythal, though. And Fen'Harel. Not in a spot of honor, but guarding, attending. Protector and All-Mother, why are you honored here, so far from the light of the sun? And why was the Dread Wolf at your side?” Cole’s words, if they’re about Solas and Mythal: "He did not want a body. But she asked him to come. He left a scar when he burned her off his face.” Legacy dev notes stating that he was once her oldest friend. These are fragments and we can only try to infer. Were they involved? Was he her second-in-command, her spymaster, her consort, her enforcer, her confidant, the leader of her ‘kingsguard’, her right hand, her advisor, the ‘guardian wolf’ to her ‘Emerald Knight’, what? Was he once a spirit and he manifested a body at her behest? What events led to him burning her vallaslin off his face? Did they have a disagreement? To what extent was she using him? The specifics of their relationship and their respective positions therein aren’t, but what’s clear is that once, she needed him, he was in her service, and that there was fondness between them.

(For the record I don’t believe she possessed him in the post-credits, or that he absorbed her essence/Mythal-spark and now the Well-drinker is bound to him. I think she passed her godhood through the mirror to Morrigan and allowed Solas to take her power/strength, that’s all.)

There’s an undertone that Flemeth may not really have full autonomy in what she’s doing (or was doing), at least where her broadstoke actions and goals are concerned. After her angry rant about vengeance, [worldstate dependent] she looks up at the statue of Mythal. In both scenarios her expression then becomes kind of sad, and she looks to the side. “Alas, so long as the music plays, we dance.” That sounds kind of like she has no choice? Like something’s fated or she’s bound to her cause? Before Flemeth’s end, Mythal was to her as our hearts are in our chests. They are intrinsic and carry out their function - beating - no matter what, until death. Given the dichotomy of Justice and Vengeance as explored by the nature of spirits and demons, and the ‘spirit-adjacent’ nature of elves, it feels like she’s compelled to do what she’s been doing all these centuries, in pursuit of the goal of getting that all-important revenge. “Our destinies are not so easily avoided.” She gets so incensed when she rages about her vengeance, it’s like she’s consumed by it. The burning desire for revenge is what kept her wisp alive through the Ages, after all.

#dragon age #bioware #abuse #abuse mention #abuse cw #morrigan #queen of my heart #solas #cole #spirit boy #mj replies #anonymous #video games #mj meta

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lambourngb · 4 years

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he’s got a smart mouth but a good heart - Michael Guerin

It’s Day 2, celebrating characters, and much to my own surprise, at the end of season 2, Michael Guerin decided to move into my brain and take up residence. Obviously I still love Alex Manes (He lives first and foremost in my brain since 1x08), but there was something about how Michael buried his own pain about his mother to help everyone in season two that rang pretty true to my own life right now. I didn’t always like what he was doing in season 2 but I understood it.

Anyway, when I find a story that celebrates how complicated he is, I cheer and rejoice- so here’s a few of the stories that I have gone back to again and again.

Truck stop knives and other assessors of childhood @angsty-aliens (13,200) I can’t lie, I love a good trope story, and I especially love a good sci-fi trope story, so this story hits all of my buttons. It takes our two science nerds, Liz and Michael, mucking around, and accidentally creating a version of Michael- but not just any version, but the child who hitchhiked to Fosters ranch, completely over humans and desperate to find his family. The kid who was feral from neglect and abuse... he was the cutest thing and the most mortifying thing that ever happened to Michael to be displayed and shown. This story takes the de-aged trope and turns it on its head, and oh yeah, there’s a sweet backdrop to Michael and Alex getting together.

Implicit Memories of You by @ninswhimsy (3464) - So this is an amnesia story canon-divergent story set after 2x11 basically, where they use the mind erasing drug on Michael. I know, I’m reccing this about Michael characterization, but it’s so solidly him after all the memories are stripped away and he’s acting on instincts, locked in a room to torture Alex with before death. There’s so much going on in so few words, something that Nin is a master at, especially the ephemeral remembrances of his mother that Michael has- oof right in the feels.

Maybe this time (he’ll stay) by @hannah-writes (7700) This is a sequel to one of my favorite stories I recced last year, dealing in alternative timelines where in one world, Michael is lost and alone and has pushed Alex away, and in another world where Alex came home from Iraq in a flagged draped coffin. It answers the question, what about Mikey? Where’s his happy ending? The confirmation of the multiverse means there’s an Alex out there who needs him- and through trial and error, Michael finds him. The world building in both stories is top notch, because for every action, there’s a reaction and reason shaping Michael.

Constant as the northern star by celzmccelz (53,000) - don’t know the tumblr here - This is an Mpreg, and it starts solidly after 1x13 and goes AU from there. But what if in the 100 mile drive home from Caulfield, Michael and Alex share a grief-induced moment of insanity where they fall back into their oldest language- sex for comfort, and then Michael does everything he does in the finale, including turning toward Maria, what if there was a souvenir? Despite the trope of mpreg, this is just how I see Michael, deeply in love with Alex but unable to trust that Alex feels the same depth in return. The friendships in here are also top-notch, from Kyle being a baby-doctor, to Isobel having her own Max-related spiral unable to let go of her brother only to refocus on Michael, to Liz fucking off with Rosa for the first half of the story because she’s caught up in her own grief (which turned out to be canon!). And there’s a whole plot here! With Jesse Manes being the worst.

Leave the light on by @sabrinachill (36,900) - Confession time- I love fake dating as a trope, I know, shocked right? But I especially love it with RNM because Malex are exes by 1x03. Mattie nailed the dynamic of pining and the assumption of unrequited love so well in this story. Although the POV switches here a bit between chapters, (and Alex is fabulous) what I really really loved was how she wrote Michael, in love but convinced that he’s messed up too much for Alex. Aware of his faults but not in a sullen way, but an acknowledgment that he was in a bad place and Alex hasn’t always been the best remedy him in the past. It was a very mature take on the “give me another chance” trope in Malex reunion stories, where both sides had a share of blame. The plot was suspenseful and tight (how do people do that???) with a climax that honestly shocked me! I really enjoyed rereading it while I prepped my rec-sets, and I won’t be surprised if this story isn’t mentioned by everyone doing ‘Creators Week’. It’s worthy of all the love.

Temporary wounds by @prouvaireafterdark (7800) - How many times can I rec this story? Hopefully you’re not bored by my adoration of this Lynne. So even though it’s set post-season 1 with the assumption that Michael/Maria will fizzle out while Alex/Forrest date- it’s actually perfectly set for season 3 (an author who is psychic??). As a rule, I hate jealousy as a trope, but this story has the only type of jealousy I want to see on screen- where Michael wonders what was missing inside of him that Alex didn’t want to be public during their long affair (even with the acknowledgment that Alex was too scared before)- like that type of sad pining is my catnip!

The first who ever did by nostalijinks (33,000) post season 1, but really it also stands pretty well after season 2. There was an interview during season 1 I think that talked about how all Michael really wanted was to be a hero to Alex (the way he stepped in front of Jesse as a kid) but he thinks he failed at it since Alex enlisted. That failure soured him in ways but he never stops trying, for Alex. This is a really well done 5 times plus 1 story, with an overreaching arc of reconciliation between Alex and Michael, starting as teenagers, then as adults while Michael is with Maria, then as friends, real friends, trying to support Alex as Alex dates. The whole emotional journey of maturity that Michael takes here is so well done, where there’s no real villains in the friend group. I just love it. I wish the author had written 100 more like this one, but as a standalone work it’s epic.

The person that you’d take a bullet for is behind the trigger by @iwontbeyourmedicine (25,000) Ly has a very large body of work, that you could spend days paging through on AO3 or tumblr, but this one hits two of my kinks hard- the amnesia story line and true love conquers all. So three fandoms ago I was huge into Steve/Bucky, that iconic moment in Cap 2 where Bucky breaks through the brainwashing has never left me. This story takes my love for that moment, and makes it Malex. Alex gets programmed by his family and set loose on his friends, on the aliens and it’s a shitshow bloodbath since he’s really fucking good at kicking ass. Michael is caught between keeping everyone safe and trying not to hurt Alex, and the tension is just top-notch. I love how it’s not an immediate fix either, the way they circle each other in the aftermath, wanting to come home, but home would be a totally new step for both of them. Just chef’s kiss good at joining action, angst, and romance together.

Into the palm of your hand by @haloud (5900) hal is a treasured friend, so I am admitting some bias here, but we both enjoy talking about how wonderful and sad Michael is and how desperately we enjoy poking at that softness and then wrapping him up with love again... so this story was written pre-shamegate (and if you know what that means, I’m sorry) but it matches my head canon of what the history of hiding does to someone. The internalization of believing maybe there’s a reason behind the hiding that has nothing to do with homophobic townies. Alex has an ex boyfriend come to town, and he doesn’t tell Michael. And omg the journey hal takes us on with Michael’s spiral and Brave Little Toaster act was so wonderful and painful and real. The communication between these two was top notch as they worked through a road bump from the past, and let’s face it, once we get our malex back, these things are going to happen, and it will either tear them apart or bring them closer together- I prefer to believe it will be closer together.

There is beauty in a failure by @jule1122 (2400) There’s been a few Greg and Michael stories to pop up on my radar after 2x10, and this one was one of my favorites. This is a Greg who pulls no punches in exposing his brother’s past to Michael, but also gives Michael the space to work through what he wants. It’s an AU from 2x12, that allowed Michael to break up with Maria for basically the same reasons that Maria used on him in 2x13. The way Michael is able to what he wants and communicate it Alex in the end- so good! We can only hope to see something similar in season 3.

I don’t know what to think (but I think of supernovas) by @queersirius (3900) This story is a delight from start to finish- I mean frustrated cursing turns the console on into a hologram who then takes the most pleasing form to Michael’s eyes? SIGN ME UP for those shenanigans. I fucking loved how Isobel saw it first too. And then the comedy of Alex discovering it? And what happens afterwards? Oh it’s so delicious. Now of course, full disclosure, this light-hearted romp through the feels also inspired me to think up a much much sadder version of Michael building an AI for companionship considering how isolated he ended up being at the end of Season 2 and we all know Michael needs friends, badly.

Innuendo by the Roswell anon (6000) written for @bisexualalienblast the roswell anon is my favorite treasure in this fandom, I could pretty much list all of their stories as examples of some very fine Michael Guerin characterization. This one was one of my favorite post-season 1 fix-it fics though, because it has some of the most real 28-30 year old guy dialogue I’ve come across- from the crude jokes, to the sharply self-deprecating observations- this is Alex and Michael stripped down, all edges but what’s left is fatigue and love. The resolution at the end, where Alex observes that yes, Michael has tried the last 10 years but this is their first chance to try together- to pull in the same direction? It just lays me flat on the ground with how true that is to canon.

Whenever You Want to Begin, Begin by @foramomentonly (3200) - this is a sequel, and the first story is dynamite- don’t get me wrong- but it moves from the hopeful side of an ending to legit Happily-Ever-After here, and I devoured every word. First of all, having Michael turn to photography as a way of self-improvement is fucking genius. Photographers are always at the center of every happy event, but never the focus, and that screams Michael to me, the way he lives on the outskirts of the 9-5 job and literal outskirts of town in his trailer. The other thing is photographers are revealed by their work, and that’s also something I head-canon with Michael just in the mundane- he’s good with his hands, he wants to leave a car better than he found. Anyway, this story is gorgeously written, moves a bit like a really good bottle of wine- heavy but soft, as you watch Michael become Alex’s friend, and even more importantly, Alex becomes Michael’s friend. Fantastic- I’ve read it about four times now since it was published.

#rnmcreate2020 #malex fic #malex fic rec #MALEX FEELS #michael guerin #alex manes #fandom positivity #worship our great authors in this fandom #will this show up in the tags?#probably not with my luck

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