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weaponizedvirtue · 9 months

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Harbored Secrets {Peaky Blinders}

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader (gender-fluid former soldier from "The Face I Hide Behind")

Summary: It's been a year since you reconnected with Thomas Shelby in Small Heath. Letters can convey a lot. But personal identity and your own brand of nightmares are easier to convey in person.

Notes: This is for my friend, @everythingelseisextra. He has motivated me and encouraged me to develop this character into who they really are, even beyond my own safe little comfort zone of topics. This one touches on PTSD and discrimination, but also gender fluidity in an era where it was often something no one talked about, acknowledged, or accepted. Marie/Eli kind has steadily shown themself to be bigender and it's an important part of them I wanted to explore.

Tagged: @everythingelseisextra, @ce1iat, @morrigan-crowmwell, @running-outof-time, @straight-outta-kirkwall

No one was supposed to have been down here. William had said it was clear and you, Tom, and Danny had shuffled down into the muck behind him. It was supposed to have been easy- “bury the mines and scramble.”

But sometime between Will’s report and your team slipping inside, the situation had changed. Two Germans had found their way inside and waited, cloaked in shadow, until everyone’s back was turned. They’d made quick work of Danny, like silent dogs leaping for their prey and digging their sharp teeth in before any of you had noticed you weren’t alone.

You’d been distracted with your notes, unfolding them and quietly reminding Tom of where each device should go when he stood suddenly, drawing his gun. He’d always been an impeccable shot and even in the dim light of the tunnels, one of the Germans went down with little more than a gasp, a bullet buried in his chest.

But the second one was quicker. He emerged from Thomas’s left like a bat, all fangs and claws and blind speed and before your friend could counter, he dragged his blade across the man’s throat.

Tom stumbled, fell to his knees, and a shout tore out of your mouth, grieving and guttural. There was a scuffle, Will shouting to you about getting out as his weapon met with the German’s. The screech of metal on metal was shrill, an alarm that insisted you move, but you couldn’t leave without Tom.

You reached down fast, your hands desperately trying to stem the blood seeping from the deep slash across his throat. He gaped up at you with wide, unseeing eyes, and his hands closed around your own.

“Carter.”

Your name wheezed out of his lungs. It was insistent but muffled, as if someone had stuffed your ears with cotton, then given you an order. But it was your name. It was your name, here below the trenches, on the lips of your dying comrade as if your moniker was important enough to be a last word.

"Stay with me. Come on, Tom."

Your voice came out ragged and pleading and your body rocked forward as you tried to pull him to his feet. He didn't respond, his body sagging into yours as you stood.

“Dein Freund wird es nicht schaffen.” The soldier from before wagged one finger at you from a few feet away. Behind him, Will lay motionless in the mud. “Carter, ja?”

The soldier pointed at you, his eyes glittering in the dark. Blood dripped from his knife, mixing thickly with the mud that caked your boots.

He advanced forward suddenly, dropping his weapon to the ground. He yanked Tom away from you, then clapped both hands around the base of your throat and squeezed. You struggled against him, your fingers locking around his wrists, trying desperately to pry yourself loose.

"Carter." His eyes were wild, nothing but fire and hate. Your name spilled from the soldier’s lips like a mantra, breathless and desperate, a plea even as he cut off the last of your air.

You didn't know him. You couldn't remember his face or his hands or how this stranger could possibly have grabbed hold of your name.

You just knew his grip was tightening. Then with a resounding snap, your windpipe buckled underneath the pressure of his knuckles. The makeshift cavern you and the rest of the Company had dug for yourself collapsed into darkness around you, burying you and your fallen comrades as if you never existed in the first place.

“Carter!”

Your eyes snapped open and air rushed into your lungs so quickly it was painful. Feeling rushed back into your fingers and your hands automatically latched onto the ones pressing up against your chin. There was too much light, too much air, building in your ears and your lungs until all you could hear was a roar.

You moved. Like a wound spring, you rocketed upwards and pressed your knee hard into your assailant’s gut. He grunted, twisting underneath you, and it took a moment for the haze in your eyes to clear. It came to you slowly, where you were, that it was a pillow underneath your palms, not dirt, that you were in your smalls, not your uniform.

And that it was Tom, clean and alive and whole, lying beneath you, not some intruder lurking in the dim light of the lanterns.

“Carter?”

You blinked, trying to separate what you were seeing from what you saw. The moments didn’t match- one where Thomas Shelby breathed, startled but watching you with patient, cutting eyes. And then the other, where the same man slumped to the ground, his gaze blank and lifeless.

“You’re alive. Jesus, you're alive."

Your head dropped to his chest and your whole body sagged against him, spent tension racing from your muscles far too quickly. The sudden shift left your body aching and a tremble quaked through your limbs.

You flattened your fingers against Thomas's stomach- he was here, he was alive, not a bloodied corpse forgotten underground. You grabbed at his hands, counting each digit, positive that they would dissolve into memory if you didn’t hold on hard enough.

Turning your head slowly, you pressed your ear against Thomas’s chest. You just needed to hear it. Just one strong heartbeat.

It was there, loud and racing just like yours, and a mournful quiver escaped your throat before you could stop it. Your breath shifted brokenly inside your lungs, thin and reedy and not enough. The part of you that was logical, that worked on stratagems and common sense, snapped from somewhere deep inside your head.

Look at him, for god’s sake, you’re not some infant. It was just another dream. Who the hell can’t tell the difference?

But your body disagreed. Your limbs remained locked where they’d fallen. You were afraid of moving, as if the moment you did so, Thomas’s existence would be a toss of the coin and not a certainty. With your nose planted against his sternum, there was still someone to hold onto.

Slowly, strong hands slipped down just below your elbows. Fingers gently circled your upper arms, tugging you upwards. Your body followed rigidly and Tom tucked you up against him before you could protest. His arms wound around your back, his hands rubbing circles in the taut muscles around your spine, and his chin came to rest against your left shoulder.

"I'm right here, Carter."

A hand wandered into your hair and Tom's fingers dragged slowly through the few curls you’d kept. You focused on the touch, on the soft sheets under your knees, and Tom's breathing, steady and even. Slowly, as visions of the tunnel and the bloodied, still figures of your friends faded, your own heartbeat matched its pace.

"Why didn't you tell me you had nightmares?"

You swallowed, shame mixing thickly in the pit of your stomach. You'd kept that bit of information to yourself on purpose, determined to keep quiet when you knew Thomas had endured just as much and more than you.

"You should have told me."

There was frustration in his voice and sympathy just below that, both feelings you were unsure how to face. Somewhere along the way, Tom had become the one person you wanted to impress. Somewhere along the way, you'd wanted him to think you were infallible. Admitting that you dreamed of your time in the tunnels, of moments you'd faced and moments you could have faced, hardly looked like strength to you. Admitting you still heard the picks and shovels of the Germans inching closer and that you fidgeted in cramped spaces hardly seemed like bravery.

But Tom deserved an explanation, now that it was out in the open.

“I'm supposed to be stronger than this. I said I could handle being a soldier. They send me home and I can't even handle the echoes?”

There was a huff of air at your neck and Thomas pulled back sharply. His movement was so sudden you missed him, your body suddenly cold at his sudden withdrawal. Something flickered in his eyes as you studied his face, closer to fury than you could remember from the man. It felt for a moment like a dismissal and as grief and shame stirred angrily through your belly, you forced yourself off the bed and onto your feet.

But Thomas’s fingers caught around your wrist, a silent command to stay put. You froze in place, your eyes darting back towards the man. Satisfied, Thomas sighed. He considered you for several seconds, then he reached down to pull his shirt over his head.

It wasn’t what you expected, but Tom’s plans rarely were and there was a look in your friend’s eyes that demanded you wait and listen. Tom dealt in timing like you dealt in numbers.

So instead, your eyes traveled down his body in earnest, mapping out the myriad of scars painted and scratched and stamped into his skin. Some you remembered, could divulge the story yourself; others were newer, fresh splits of skin and bone that didn’t match what you knew of Thomas Shelby’s timeline.

“Bullet from the Somme.” Tom tapped his left side where your eyes had come to rest and at first, the information seemed like a surprisingly open confession from Thomas. But without pausing for your answer, Thomas continued, walking his fingers down each scar.

“Barbed wire in Amiens. Blast in the trenches- you pulled me out, remember?” You did, but his fingers moved again before you could reply.

He walked you down each limb, detailing a scar now and then, avoiding others that you still wished to rub out with your own hands. The scars were Thomas’s story, told in violent brands and permanent tears on his skin because words were never enough to describe battle. It was a strange, devoted kind of exposure, one you could appreciate fully coming from Tom. But it was unlike your friend to offer up information without asking something in return.

The cost presented itself quickly enough.

“So.”

Thomas lifted his head from the last scar on his thigh and nodded towards you.

“Show me yours.”

The request was a fair one and you imagined there was a point to it that Tom was aiming for, but your body went cold nonetheless.

You showed very few people what sat beneath your clothes. It was hardly different from what they'd seen before, just a set of ribs and a set of breasts and a torso of scars stitching them together, but it had never felt like the truth, showing them skin that hardly felt like yours, bearing your body to them when it hardly felt like your own.

You hesitated, feeling compelled to explain, desperate for someone to listen, even more desperate for Tom to understand. The words came out slow and thick as molasses, your voice quiet, and you looked down at yourself, picking at your nightshirt.

"What people see and who I am don't always match, Tom."

Even without looking at him, you knew he was thinking. There was the softest exhale and a purposeful silence, then the rustling of sheets as he shifted slightly closer to you.

With an unexpected burst of courage, you dragged your eyes up again and sure enough, he was waiting, studying you with a softer expression than before. He pressed his tongue to the top of his mouth for a moment, carefully piecing his words together before exposing them to the air.

"Whether I see Marie or Carter doesn't matter, love. I don't need a name or a body to tell me who you are."

The room tilted for just a moment, as if knocked off kilter by his words. Tears rushed to your eyes unbidden and you pressed your hands fast against them, unprepared for the onslaught.

It wasn't something you'd heard before, the quiet acceptance that whether you were a man or a woman in the day, the hour, the moment, your decision was valid and wouldn't require the consequences of judgment.

For all of Danny's kindness, he still looked at you differently now as Marie than he ever had when you were Carter. He still walked as if on eggshells when you were around, and had adopted a kind of rapport around you like you were his little sister, not his comrade in arms.

You'd seen Freddie Thorne once, on your way out of Tommy's that first time, and he'd regarded you like a math problem, all furrowed brows and frustration. He'd plucked the cigarette from his mouth and circled you like a great cat. In the end, he seemed to have settled on the idea that you weren't a threat, waved you off with a half-friendly, "Enjoy Birmingham."

But he looked at you not as someone he'd trudged through hell with, who he'd ribbed on occasional moments in camp, but as a stranger prone to lies and deception, as if your female identity was an exercise in smoke and mirrors.

Additionally, your family had hitched their wagon to the opinion that you were confused, that the moments you took joy in manners and family you were a different person from the person interested in gadgets and physical labor. They'd come to believe your insistence that you could be both was an affront to how they'd raised you, as if it was your self-control that prevented you from being a proper lady.

And when they'd gotten tired of waiting for you to become what you were expected to be, realized you wouldn't act out the part that the world demanded of you, you'd simply become too much to keep around.

Thomas alone had seen the individual parts of you and believed them to make up a whole. He alone had believed it was more than a formula to a trick or a tantrum.

You swallowed, grateful that Tom had stayed put on the bed and allowed you a moment to work through the meaning of his words. There was a sort of unspent energy to him as he watched you, a tamed impatience as he leaned back and waited.

You took a slow breath, then with shaking hands, undid each button on your shirt. After pausing one last time, your eyes met Tom's expectant ones and you pulled the shirt from your shoulders.

You didn't have as many scars as him. Not even the same type- your binder had worn deep trenches in your skin where it had hugged your breasts or ribs too tight. There were uneven ripples across your abdomen where bones had broken in protest, whether it be from the cramped position you'd crawled through the tunnels or the sustained pressure trapping your chest cavity. There were small, jagged scars from rogue shrapnel dotting your collarbone, wounds you'd had to stitch up yourself for fear of the medics discovering your secret. A long scratch marred your left side from a scuffle with one of the other soldiers, a lasting reminder that not everyone was interested in playing nice.

"Mostly from the tunnels." You lifted your chin, watching as Tom leaned forward, his eyes wandering along each scar as if he was recording them for later consideration.

"And your head."

“What?”

Thomas tapped the back of his head and your right hand fumbled inside of your hair, brushing the rough patch of skin where they’d sewn twenty stitches years before. The memory flitted back quickly, though it was vague, snatches of haze and mud, shouts for a medic, and Tom’s face above you as you were pulled into open air. You’d have shrugged him off if you could have remembered how to move your limbs, saved yourself another couple of battles before getting sent home.

"From the beam. You still get those headaches?"

It had been just a passing bit of information in one of your letters to him, must have been at least six months ago, and you weren’t sure if you were flattered he remembered or embarrassed you told him in the first place.

“Yeah.”

Thomas nodded and his face smoothed over before you could gather what he meant by asking. Instead, he reached for his lighter on the dresser beside you both. A cigarette practically appeared in his hand and he lowered it to the flame with a kind of purpose you thought inordinate for simply lighting a smoke.

With a hard puff of air, Thomas exhaled and you and he both turned your eyes to the fog rising up towards the ceiling.

“I have ‘em too. The nightmares.”

The words didn’t connect immediately. Fitting Thomas’s name into the same sentence as fear didn’t seem logical. You hardly expected him to live without it, but when a man could motivate an entire crowd of scared men onto a bloody battlefield, it seemed stupid to consider him anything but solid.

“You never said anything.”

“It’s a habit we share, eh?”

There was no room for accusations when you’d been just as at fault. You smiled wryly, slowly lowering yourself back down onto the bed beside Thomas. The man’s hand shrugged towards you with ease and after a moment, you picked the cigarette from between his fingers.

You rarely smoked, could hardly afford it with your lifestyle and didn’t care much for the taste. But you wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth and it felt enough like camaraderie that you couldn’t help but accept the stick.

As you drew smoke into your lungs and exhaled, a tingle ran up your spine. Your shoulders sagged and you closed your eyes for a moment, imagining the sharp edges of you softening and the claws of your nightmare temporarily withdrawing.

“So if I fought for mine,” Thomas continued unbidden and he bumped his arm gently against yours. “And you fought for yours-” The cigarette disappeared from your hand and reappeared between his teeth.

“I believe soldiers face the consequences together, Carter."

His gaze shifted back to you and you studied his face carefully. You knew what it looked like when someone was lying by now, knew when someone was just trying to soften the blow. Thomas was doing neither.

You leaned back slowly against the headboard of the bed, your thoughts racing too quickly to allow you the prospect of sleep just yet.

Fingers danced carefully across the back of your head, just along the edges of your scar. You turned your head to find Thomas intently watching you, his eyes blazing a colder blue than you remembered.

"Call me next time. Do us both some good."

#peaky blinders #female soldier #fanfiction #gender/character study #for everythingelse- who has steadily inspired me to be braver than I thought I could be #thomas shelby x reader

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st4rrth0ughts · 2 months

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Aventurine character study that I spewed at my friend posted here bc I despise whoever portrays him as a useless blonde 24/7 horny twink as his canon self (i will throttle you through the fuckin screen)

A/n: I think the 2.1 trailer is helping me regain my writing motivation, expect inbox asks from Jan- Feb to be coming out soon :)

WRITTEN BEFORE 2.1 This post will contain leaks, 2.0 Trailblaze quest spoilers, world quest spoilers, Aven's slave life in canon, disgusting people saying Aven's a sex slave, under the cut! Please proceed with caution if any of these trigger you. Thank you, and enjoy my yap session on one of the best characters in this game.

Aventurine's story is much more than just looking and acting like the typical rich blonde playboy, as much as he gives off those vibes. Looking at his child self in the 2.1 trailer compared to all of his current models, its very obvious that many, many things happened that caused all the light to poof from his eyes.

First, his homeland, Sigonia. Aventurine's home planet's is uninhabited, and perhaps even destroyed completely. Aventurine is the last of his kind left. His parents, his sister, his possible friends and relatives, hell, even all the people he doesn't know have all perished. The IPC took him in, I presume, but most definitely not out of kindness. In fact, it may not matter that Aventurine is one of the Ten Stonehearts, he is not a person to the company. He is just a asset, a piece for them to dispose if he fucks up.

In the 1.4? Belobog quest where Topaz goes to Bronya about Belobog's massive debt to the IPC, and at the end, we get our first crumbs of Aventurine's character. A important thing to note in this dialogue between the two of them is that he asks Topaz to the project manager on his project in Penacony, because if he knows better than everyone that if he fails to get Penacony back into the IPC's grasp, he'll die. There's no way around it, unless he gets someone he has a somewhat close bond with, Topaz, to lighten his fall.

The tattoo on his neck, is a symbol of his slavery to the IPC. How he's bound to them. How no matter how hard he runs or hides, he will never escape their grasp. In fact, he knows damn well, if anyone gets wind of this alongside his Sigonian history (Sigonians are notorious for being wolves in sheep's clothing, bad people in most eyes'), it is very well possible that his rivals and enemies will use his past to their advantage. Thats why he freely shows it to the world. So that no one can dig it up and use it against him, because how do you use something that he so freely proclaims to everyone he meets?

Aventurine is a man who gambles as well. Not just simply gambling for the thrill of it or his earnings. He says it himself, he sees the world, life itself, as a gamble. High reward, high stakes. Even going back to his conversation with Topaz, its only shown on how he tells her he warned her about taking Belobog as her project because it was high risk, but low return. Aventurine wants the best outcome not just for himself, but because if he doesn't get a good outcome, the IPC has no use for him.

Aventurine is a man who knows how to get what he wants. he knows how to take risks, get out of high stake scenarios with him being the winner. Its obvious in his lightcone, 'Final Victor', his conversation with Dr. ratio in the Penacony 2.0 Trailblaze quest, and his conversation with Himeko and Welt about giving up his room for the Trailblazer. He's confident, cocky, if you will. But for good reason.

In the lightcone, its implied it doesn't matter for Aventurine dies or lives. He will always be the winner. Every move is calculated, precise, carried out with clockwork precision and most importantly, planned so well that whether you like it or not, you're letting him win. He manages to get the Nameless, the widely regarded faction, in his debt. He knows damn well how to play his cards. It is extremely impressive. But he is the Aventurine of Stratagems. He knows what he wants and needs, and he will go any length to get it.

The lightcone, again, also shows just how far Aventurine risks, just for him to gain Dr. Ratio as a asset for him to benefit from. He could have gone any route, but what does he go for? Thats right, Russian goddamn roulette. Just for the (I assume) slim chance of Dr. Ratio's trust, or at the very least, cooperation. "I will always be the final victor." I am repeating, but just bear with me here, this just solidifies the fact he is confident in his skills. He doesn't flinch at all when he shoots 3 blank rounds right into his heart, even though there's the 1/6 chance he'll die. He takes risks. Its his character. He doesn't have anything or anyone, much less his own life, left to loose.

The lightcone is also not 'haha funny gay story', as much as it is funny, i wont lie, the memes are fun to look at, but it is not that. Its a story where Aventurine's suicidal tendency shows through, perhaps not so clearly, but its very much there if you look past the story and read into it. Again, Russian roulette, he could have gone for anything else, like a contract or smth, but he knows he has to go through extremes, and this just solidifies the fact of how Aventurine will do anything for assets and trust in him, so his plans can come to fruition.

Aventurine's personality is complicated, like a intricate, deceiving web of lies and emotional barriers to keep him safe. He hides behind the facade of smiles and is unreadable, and his past is all but cheery. A slave, (not a sex slave, twitter+Tiktok users need their brain fucking reworked i will cry) a man branded by the IPC, bound to the till his death is what Aventurine is. The IPC is ruthless, evident from multiple world quests, such as the Aurum Street Alley quest, Belobog's debt quest, Chadwick's quest in Penacony, paints them as bad people, a bad organization in general. Hell, even though Topaz isnt like the assholes we've seen, she's far from an angel herself.

Aventurine has gone through many things to have lost the sparkle in his eyes. Take Childe/Tartaglia from Genshin Impact for example, whom fell into the abyss for months, seen all the horrors of it, had to learn to fend for himself because I'm very sure Skirk did not care for him in a healthy sense. We can either assume Aventurine been through something on the same level during his younger days or perhaps, worse.

And no, he is not Dr. Ratio or Sunday's sex slave, I'm looking at a certain artist on Twitter (fuck off I'm not calling it X), its disgusting. Whoever genuinely enjoys sex slave Aventurine is sick in the damn head, no he would not enjoy that kind of Roleplay, as much as i am downbad and indeed filthy with some of my fics with him.

Aventurine doesn't have anyone he can truly call a friend, ship him with Dr. ratio, Sunday, Boothill (yes, its a thing), Caelus/ Stelle, whoever, but in the end, you cannot say he (as of 2.0, this may change) has any true friends he can trust, not even just a bit. Bonds he forms are transactional, maybe not too much on Dr. Ratio (as evidenced by his dejected his looks after Ratio leaves, either from the insult or bc he truly though Ratio cared) and perhaps on the Astral Express's part, but his bond with Sunday? Yeah, its transactional, 101% unless it changes in 2.1.

All in all, Aventurine is my favourite character, i have never wanted to read, write, understand, watch, hell, I've never wanted to farm and pull for a character as much as him. He is a complex, heavy and deep character that I do not believe many can grasp upon properly when writing stories, headcannons or even smut/nsfw works with him in it (shoutout to those who does tho, I love y'all <3).

Draw or write his fanon self, make him a himbo, tsundere, a rich man who's just a playboy, or a blonde with a pretty face, but you cannot say that is him in canon. I may despise some fanon interpretations, but fuck those who merge fanon and canon. He will never be any of the fanon interpretations i mentioned above, and he never will be in canon. Hoyoverse put their whole soul into this man, i can see it, and its brain damaging on how so many people fetishize his past and water him down.

In speculation of 2.1 and 2.2, if Aventurine does live (he prob will, its unlikely he'll be killed before release, Tingyun is a exception because she released before her death), maybe he'll learn how to start to open himself up again, start to fully trust, starting with Trailblazer as his first true friend. Its cliche, typical protag power bullshit, but it will no doubt, be a huge step in shaping Aventurine back into the man he could have been if his planet wasn't enslaved.

Conclusion: He deserves better, both in- game and how the fandom treats him. I love him, he's my adorable pookie wookie shmookie <33

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andthebeanstalk · 10 months

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Me: hm, I want something to put on the TV as background noise... Huh. Looks like YouTube is recommending something called The Last Unicorn. That's perfect, it's probably some old shitty animation that has aged poorly! I can watch it ironically!

Me, 2 hours later as the credits roll: *crying, cheering, buying the book, composing the songs*

Me, 2 weeks later: So I have compiled all of the quotes from the book that I think could make good tattoos, and also, HOW HAVE I NEVER LEARNED ABOUT HOW THE LAST UNICORN FUCKING SLAPS??? This gay-ass little fairytale fed my soul! Watered my crops! Transed my gender! Can't believe I heard of this story from youtube recommendations, of all places!!

#original #the last unicorn #tlu #peter s beagle #molly gru #schmendrick #schmendrick the magician #two of my favorite characters in anything right there in the center of the story! and I'm glad I saw the film first!#my reading ability has diminished due to trauma disability etc. but it seems like having a visual reference actually really helped!#no wonder i only ever want to read fan fic! turns out reading is not actually Superior to other types of Storytelling. it's just different.#to say otherwise is snobbishness I have been eminently guilty of in my life!#but like it is easier for me to consume tv and movies and that is fine actually. also that's why I'm doing a graphic novel lol #because i wanted to make something i would actually be able to read if i found it at a library. altho the audio book IS gonna be bomb #the audiobook is for visually impaired readers and anyone who wants or needs it! accessible stories for everyone! yeah!!#my gender was already transed but now I've gained an ADDITIONAL gender! which one? I'll never tell 😘#i am so powerful i have so much fuckin gender. my wife has no gender. and she is equally as powerful.#and also she has STUDIED THE BLADE #mostly zoro's blades from One Piece #normally YouTube recommends me shit movies like idiocracy or smth this is like if every day ur cat brought you a piece of rotten food and #then one day it brings you a BEAUTIFULLY ANIMATED TALE FEATURING MY BELOVED TWINK FUCK-UP WIZARD FRIEND AND MY ALL-TIME HOMEGIRL MOLLY GRU #and also it's soft and beautiful and funny and fucking weird!! i wrote melodies to the songs in the books on my ukulele

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starcurtain · 7 days

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Female Guidance in Aventurine's Life

One thing I haven't seen discussed in much depth yet, but which I think is especially interesting, is the consistency of female guidance in Aventurine's life: Every single person who we have seen on screen offering Aventurine assistance or making a positive difference in his life is female (with one exception, yes, I'll get there).

Under the read more cause it's longggg:

Before even diving into his family, let's just get the obvious out of the way: Aventurine is, at least supposedly, blessed by a goddess. The very origin of his good fortune--be it actual blessing or curse--comes from the literal "mother goddess" who watches over him. This is one of the only instances in Star Rail where a god character is specifically given a gender, and Gaiathra is not ever ambiguous. She is the classic female fertility goddess with all the trappings of other famous triple goddess figures of the real world. Aventurine's personal belief in the goddess may be shaky, but he nevertheless continues to treasure his people's faith. Thus, at the core, we can say Aventurine is a character who is guarded by the most quintessential mother figure possible.

Now, with the most obvious out of the way:

We know that Aventurine's father died before Aventurine was even born, and therefore he would not have any memories of his father, leaving him to be raised by his mother and sister.

Both women clearly made an enormous and lasting impression on Aventurine; they haunt every single one of his memories of Sigonia and are the key elements of the family Aventurine longs to return to. While he flirts with the concept of death as a way to see his family members again, it was also his mother and sister who instilled in him any sense of self-worth and meaning to his existence, the only things keeping him from giving up on living. His mother believed him to be blessed; his sister insisted to his face that not even the only remaining remnant of their mother had any value in comparison to his life.

It is for his sister that Aventurine first begins expressing a self-sacrificial nature, and from his sister that this self-sacrifice is reinforced when she uses herself as a shield to help him escape massacre at the hands of the Katicans.

It is also from his sister that Aventurine learns many of the deeply meaningful actions he holds onto to the present day, despite having been so far removed from his own culture.

Conversely, every one of Aventurine's early negative experiences on screen appear to have been driven (at least primarily) by men.

Although the Katican tribe of course would have both men and women, the tribal societies on Sigonia appear to be on the fairly traditional side, with Aventurine's mother staying at the camp with her child while his father was the one to go out and hunt for offerings for Gaiathra. This is also supported by Aventurine asking Jade to take him to her "chief" later on. Therefore, it is likely (although of course not guaranteed) that a majority of the Katicans' army was male, and that Aventurine's early experiences with outsiders consisted almost entirely of indiscriminate pillaging and massacre at the hands of what the Avgin viewed as savage, invading warriors. In separate instances, Aventurine was traumatized by these warrior figures three times--first with the loss of his father, then his mother, and then finally his sister.

And even their hope, supposed to come in the form of the "men in black" from the IPC, completely abandoned them, leaving Aventurine once again betrayed by masculine figures that were supposed to be there to protect him. Led by Oswaldo Schneider, another cruel male authority figure, the Marketing Department of the IPC permitted the wholesale slaughter of Aventurine's people--something which we know Aventurine is now aware of.

Then, of course, the next piece of Aventurine's backstory we're given is his male slave master. I don't really need to say anything about this, do I? This man violated Aventurine's human dignity and bodily autonomy, and forced Aventurine's hand in a life or death battle for which Aventurine still punishes himself mentally, even years in the future.

In part to escape the difficulty of his situation and rise to a position where he would have enough resources to--he thought--help his people, Aventurine joins up with the IPC. But when he attempts to make contact with a powerful man in the organization, Diamond, he is instead met by a woman, Jade, who against Aventurine's own expectations determines that she will raise Aventurine up (or use him as a tool, depending on how you currently choose to interpret Jade's motivations), granting him wealth and status beyond his imagination.

(And this line in particular is interesting, because you can take it one of two ways: 1) Aventurine comes from a patriarchal planet that traditionally put men into positions of power [thereby making his own slavery an emasculating act, aligning him further with disenfranchised women]; thus, he is making the assumption that to get anywhere in this organization, he will need to work with a man; or 2) He actually was counting on Jade taking his bet and helping him right from the beginning, because Aventurine perceives women as inherently more likely to protect and aid him than men would be.)

In the end, Jade does exactly as she claims she will, launching Aventurine into a position of power while also closing golden handcuffs around his wrists. She positions herself not only as his supervisor, but as his advocate and ally. She entrusts him with her Cornerstone, a sign of significant faith in his abilities. She even seems to be keenly aware of his bias towards the mother figure, referring to him as "child" in their conversations.

Whether this is genuine or a manipulation tactic can certainly be debated (and I'm not inclined to think at this point that Jade is a genuinely good role model or selflessly supportive person in Aventurine's life), but whatever the case, women are the only people Aventurine even remotely considers to be "in his corner."

We see this even earlier, in Aventurine's call to Topaz. Like with the example of his mother and sister, Aventurine trusts in Topaz's ability implicitly, and considers her above anyone else when it comes to completing the mission in Penacony.

Although of course we don't know if Aventurine has any other friends or allies among the Strategic Investment Department, it seems very likely that Topaz, yet another woman, is the one he is closest with. At the very least, she is the only IPC character (so far) that Aventurine has a complimentary voice line for, one that shows his respect for her talent:

Over and over again, the story aligns Aventurine with female figures in positions of authority, and demonstrates that he is comfortable (although maybe not too comfortable, in the case of Jade) with relying on them and trusting their judgment, just as he did with his mother and sister.

And this pretty much goes off the charts in Penacony, where Aventurine has more involvement with the female cast than virtually any other non-female character (even the Trailblazer!). We set the pattern off right away, with Aventurine immediately being placed into a negotiation situation with Himeko, respecting her role as the Express's leader and working to get himself aligned with the Express by acquiescing to her request for support.

Then there's the fact that Aventurine is the one who finds Robin's body, an event which, although he didn't let it show too much, was almost certainly traumatic for him, given the violent death of his own sister.

Next, twice in Penacony's story, we see Aventurine seek out Sparkle for information. He may not personally like her and her comments may be both racist and dehumanizing, but Aventurine does rely on her--being the only character explicitly seeking her aid, which no one else in Penacony seems to want.

In 2.0...

And in 2.1.

Now, say it with me, guys: Aventurine built an entire portion of his grand plan around the idea that if he looked pathetic enough, a female character would absolutely come and help him. And sure enough, the women come through for him, always! Sparkle gives him the exact last clue he needs to confirm his belief that he could use "Death" to reach the true Penacony, sealing the deal for the rest of his plan.

His plan which also hinged significantly on Black Swan's involvement too, another woman that he views as, if not trustworthy, then at least intelligent and hyper-competent.

Contrast all this, of course, with the treatment Aventurine receives at the hands of Sunday, the lone opposing male character he faces in Penacony.

Sparkle implies that Sunday would humiliate Aventurine in an unmistakably sexual and degrading way, and Sunday himself professes this same desire to see Aventurine humiliated.

Then we're "treated" to the moment in which Sunday uses the Harmony's (or perhaps actually the Order's?) power against Aventurine, in a scene which is supposed to reflect an interrogation but is also, very clearly, another nonconsensual violation of Aventurine's bodily autonomy and dignity by a man. While ostensibly seeking confirmation of the Cornerstone ruse, Sunday instead subjects Aventurine to unnecessary questions about his past on Sigonia, which recall and force Aventurine to re-endure memories of his trauma.

Even if this is what Aventurine prepared himself for and planned to have happen, the pain he experiences is very real, and he suffers both the physical and emotional consequences of Sunday's assault all the way up to his "Death" and possibly even beyond.

(Also, Sunday fans please don't get too up in arms with me for this; I also like Sunday! It's okay for characters to be morally grey!)

I think there's one other interesting example I would bring up here too, and that's Aventurine's conscious decision to weaponize his own masculinity against the Trailblazer. Through the 2.0 and 2.1 Trailblaze missions, Aventurine deliberately acts in an off-putting manner to the Astral Express crew, particularly the Trailblazer, in order to build up to the 2.1 climax where the Trailblazer is supposed to view him as an unrepentant villain and attack him without hesitation.

In order to achieve this uncomfortable, villainous effect, what does Aventurine do? Exactly what other men have done to him.

This is especially apparent if you're playing Stelle because of the ingrained societal taboo of a man entering a woman's personal space without consent, but even as Caelus, it is very clear that Aventurine is leveraging behaviors typically used to show dominance: In a complete 180 to all Aventurine's other body language in the game (normally quite withdrawn, frequently in defensive postures with his arms crossed or hand behind his back, almost always standing several feet away from other people), Aventurine violates the Trailblazer's personal bubble, looming over them (Caelus was sitting in this cutscene, lol), forcing eye contact, and commanding the space while informing them that they will have no choice.

For someone who was hunted, enslaved, had his movements restricted with chains, and due to his own slight stature has very likely been towered over by others who were intentionally asserting their power over him all his life, it is clear that Aventurine associates dominant, typically more masculine-coded physically-imposing behaviors with discomfort and even villainy.

Any girl who has ever had a man loom over her like this will realize very quickly: Aventurine wanted to make himself scary so he made himself act more like a bad man.

(Yes of course I know "not all men." I'm not saying every man behaves in this domineering way or that women cannot be domineering too, obviously, just that Aventurine had a very specific image in mind when constructing a "villainous persona," and the physically controlling tactics most typically used by aggressive men toward women was his immediate go-to.)

But where does that leave Dr. Ratio, the one male character actually on Aventurine's side?

Frankly, I don't want to derail my post about how intensely Hoyo chose to hammer on the message of "Women will protect you" in Aventurine's story with a discussion about a mlm ship, but the take-away here is going to lead in that direction anyway--so yes, Dr. Ratio is the exception.

What is interesting is that he does not come across as an exception at first, and in fact initially appears as another male character being rude and dismissive to Aventurine. Like, there are still people out there calling Ratio an unrepentant racist for this one.

Of course, it's later clarified that this is an act--likely even these insults were scripted specifically to give Sunday's spying ears the "insight" he needed to exploit Aventurine during the interrogation.

But even though it is an act, Aventurine still has noticeable trouble putting his faith in Ratio. He does genuinely doubt him a few times, despite knowing that they are working together to fool the Family.

Even his voice line about Ratio confirms that he doesn't think Ratio particularly cares for him; rather, he thinks Ratio simply tolerates him because he's slightly less unintelligent than those around them.

Ultimately, the entire act with Ratio ends up being a mirror of the real scenarios Aventurine has been experiencing with men his whole life (at least as far as we are shown his life). Men abandon him to fend for himself (unwillingly, like his father, or willingly, like Diamond leaving Aventurine to deal with Penacony alone on the inside). Ratio keeps leaving Aventurine completely alone. Men attempt to humiliate him and violate his boundaries (like Sunday and his slave master). Ratio insults Aventurine's appearance and intelligence repeatedly. Men betray him (like Oswaldo Schneider and his men leaving the Avgin to die). Ratio "betrays" him.

I'm not saying when Aventurine devised the plan for their act, he consciously drew up a list of all the ways men had hurt him in the past and had Ratio re-enact them one by one, but like... that's what happened, whether or not Aventurine intended it.

And okay, the shrinking scene in Dewlight Pavilion was just for fun and probably only slightly fetishy, the devs promise; yes, it was supposed to be a joke! ...But it's also not a mistake that this is yet another instance of a male character in a glaringly metaphorical position of power over Aventurine. Aventurine's tiny in this scene! He's completely vulnerable! He's in a dangerous position and the male character could very much hurt him in this moment.

But Ratio doesn't. (In fact, his line here is supposed to be sarcastic, very ha ha--but also, what is Ratio really saying? "I won't do anything to you without your express consent." What a good guy.)

Virtually everything negative that we see in 2.1 is Ratio doing these things as an act at Aventurine's own request. He doesn't actually disdain Aventurine; his own voiceline about Aventurine reinforces that he sees Aventurine as talented and intelligent.

Whatever you think he was apologizing for in their early scene, he's the only person we're ever shown in-game apologizing to Aventurine at all.

He worked hard to "betray" Aventurine but only as he was instructed to do, and immediately checks in on Aventurine's well-being afterward, even urging him to give up the plan if it becomes too much to handle.

And then, of course, there's the note: "Do stay alive. I wish you the best of luck."

After this point, it cannot be denied that Ratio is unequivocally on Aventurine's side, wants to help him, and is not doing so out of any sense of self-gain but largely because he is a good person who simply cares about Aventurine's fate. By the end of 2.1, it can no longer be doubted that Ratio is the exception to the "gender rule" of Aventurine's life, which--the story shows us again and again--was that guidance, protection, and care for Aventurine come from women, while men repeatedly represent dismissal, betrayal, or pain.

Ratio is, at least as far as Aventurine's story shows us, the proof that men can be good, that things are not as black and white in Aventurine's life as they might appear, and that--if you do choose to ship him with or see Aventurine as attracted to men--his attraction could be validated (and potentially reciprocated) by a male figure who would not bring additional harm to Aventurine's life. Aventurine makes the final decision to live after seeing Ratio's note--the exception to the rule ultimately proves to be the last piece needed to keep him alive.

But I promised I wasn't going to derail my own post about w o m e n, so let me get to the final point, and the one I really wanted to talk about: Although Ratio gets virtually all the credit for "saving" Aventurine in the fandom, Aventurine was actually saved by, you guessed it, another woman.

Not going to lie, the reason I started this post was specifically because I wanted to talk about how Acheron and Aventurine's dynamic was completely unexpected but actually fits flawlessly with the theme of feminine guidance in Aventurine's story.

Despite the fact that Aventurine made Acheron's life much harder and actively used her as a chip in his grand gamble, she doesn't blame or chastise him for those actions. Although she expresses some incredulity that Aventurine is actually that lucky, she then turns around and congratulations him for his ingenuity, immediately supporting him despite the fact that they don't even truly know each other.

Then it gets even more interesting. Acheron, who frequently hits her companions with deep and sometimes very emotionally fraught questions, asks Aventurine: "Have you never wavered?"

We as players know for a fact that Aventurine is constantly wavering, constantly doubting himself, his luck, and whether he'll even live--or even wants to live--to see tomorrow. But we also know that Aventurine is not forthcoming about those truths, refusing to express them to anyone, even himself. The only way we hear those dark truths is through his "future" self (who by the way, is once again another male figure cutting Aventurine down--of course it's himself but it's also, from the player's perspective, once again reinforcing the message that he isn't going to find safety or kindness in an adult male presence). Aventurine almost constantly deflects and diverts when his emotions or struggles are brought to the fore (unless he's divulging them for the specific purpose of allowing someone else to weaponize them). "I'm fine," he says, like a lying liar who lies.

But he doesn't lie to Acheron.

He chooses to be completely candid with her, to lance open the deepest wound of his life--that he can win and win and win and still have lost everything. The glitz and the glamour has all been stripped away here, at the end of everything, and Aventurine finally feels safe enough to admit that he fears he has absolutely nothing in his life worth living for.

And then, we get this direct parallel: Aventurine looks to Acheron, the woman now before him, for guidance, for explanation, exactly as he looked to his sister in the past.

He needs help, he needs answers, and he is continually seeking that help from the female figures in his life, whose support and kindness echo the lost care of his mother and sister.

"Go where you should be," Acheron tells Aventurine, guiding him across the river of death just as his sister insisted that he flee through the rain toward life.

Look guys, Acheron's even the one who reminds Aventurine to look at Ratio's note in the first place because apparently being an emanator of Nihility gives you x-ray vision, but my girl just gets no credit at all for being Aventurine's real savior, come on now!! Yes, Ratio's note was the final reminder Aventurine needed that someone would be waiting for him on the other side, but Aventurine would never have even gotten to the point of being willing to read that note if Acheron hadn't stepped in and provided him an answer to his question.

She feeds him back his own answer: "Why does life slumber? To rehearse the death for which we are not currently prepared." It is Acheron who reminds Aventurine that giving into the Nihility is pointless, and that rather than simply embracing a meaningless death, it is up to humanity itself to find and make meaning by living. It's this, not Ratio's note, that Aventurine gives as his reason for choosing to go on when asked by his own younger self. It's Acheron's words that finally give Aventurine an answer--why do we live just to die? Because there are people we can still make proud. Because when we go into death, we should do so with our heads held high, having achieved our own sense of purpose in this life.

Ratio gave Aventurine a promise: Someone is waiting for you to come back.

But Acheron gave Aventurine a reason: If life is inherently meaningless, doesn't that just mean you are free to give it meaning yourself?

She saved him, as women have been saving him all his life.

Anyway, this has already been horrendously long, but really what I wanted to say is that I think it is absolutely fascinating how consistent Aventurine's writing is when it comes to portraying where his support comes from and who he seeks guidance from. (Psst, just in case you still haven't figured it out, it's women!) In virtually every instance we are shown, we see the message reinforced that women are Aventurine's greatest allies and role models, while male figures are continually positioned to intentionally or unintentionally let him down and cause him distress.

"But women playing the supporting role to a male character is nothing new, Star, why are you so excited by this?"

Because the role women are playing in Aventurine's life is not the subservient supporter and emotional crutch role that female characters all too often play to male counterparts. None of the women in Penacony or Aventurine's past were there to do the emotional labor for him, to be a trophy or prize, or to cater to his needs. They don't exist solely to help him fulfill his character motivations; they aren't following him around waiting for his next request as their only role in the plot.

Instead, with Aventurine's story, we almost have an inversion of gender roles, where the male character eschews the stereotypical "men are leaders, fighters, and stoic heroes" archetype. Instead, no matter how hard he tries to hide it and keep a stiff upper lip, it is clear from 2.0-2.1's story that Aventurine is a deeply insecure, lonely, and explicitly traumatized survivor of genocide, slavery, and exploitation. Unlike most male characters, who are very rarely portrayed as genuine victims--because come on, shouldn't men be strong enough to fight back? Shouldn't men be able to shrug it off when they are hurt, emotionally or physically? (Of course I'm rolling my eyes here!)--Aventurine is belittled, humiliated, emasculated, and victimized on-screen, roles almost exclusively reserved for women, for whom surviving victimization in fiction is seen as noble.

Meanwhile, the women in Aventurine's life take on the roles traditionally given to male characters. They're both emotionally and physically his protectors. Aventurine's sister gave her life to guard his safety; Acheron ensured he could safely pass beyond the river of Nihility into the Primordial Dreamscape. They give him the tools necessary to succeed where he could not succeed on his own. His plan could never have gotten off the ground without Topaz and Jade entrusting their Cornerstones to him. The knowledge and capabilities of the women around him--not their "feminine charms"--are what allow them to help keep Aventurine on the right path even though he does waver. Even women who disrespect him, like Sparkle, still play a positive role in his life, able to provide him insight gained with their own intellect and talents.

When he has no one to rely on and doesn't know what to do, Aventurine is able to continually turn to the women around him, asking for and receiving not servitude or fawning, but their genuine wisdom and guidance.

tl;dr: If nobody else has him, Aventurine knows this random woman he met two minutes ago on the street will have him, because the women in his life literally never let him down.

(It's just so, so good, and ultimately, it should be very clear why Aventurine's story is as popular with women as it is! A+, Hoyo!)

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maomango-doodle · 9 months

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Playing around with the color wheel WEEE

#self-indulgent doodles babyyy #mostly a mix of pose studies and chibis #my fave color is green but im rly into pink lately #color palettes based on pride flags btw. except for the last doodle page #gender is like clay. its whatever i want it to be 🫶#half op vash and no op knives are so important to me #love me some relaxed/silly vw. sharing clothes or glasses #SOOOO normal about ww wearing vash's coat :DDD #and vash being comfortable enough to let his wings and feathers out around ww and not cover up his scars #also tryna come up with a name for legato-vash-midvalley trio. not even a romantic trio theyre just a couple of buffoons annoying each othe #midgatovash? legavashvalley?? VHS as in vashhornsummers?? valleybluestyphoon???#god im so bad at coming up with names.....#i'm mainly thinking of their dynamic in '98 but trimax also works #so much flavor to this trio imo #anyway. it's fun playing dress up with characters and trying to find what would fit their style and all. i wanna do more of that #trigun #vash the stampede #nicholas d. wolfwood #vashwood #millions knives #legato bluesummers #millionsummers #midvalley the hornfreak #shinxo art

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wuffgang-ameowdeus-moozart · 11 months

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Robin never really got boys talk.

When Sarah turned 14 she invited all the girls in band for a sleepover. It started out fun. After her parents went to bed they put on a creepy horror movie and watched it in a huge cuddle pile. They braided each other's hair and did each other's nails and squeezed each other during tense scenes and muffled their shrieks after a sudden jumpscare.

After that they watched another one. This time Sarah sneaked her mother's makeup kit down to the living room, and so lipstick and eyeshadow joined the mess of nail polish, hair clips and snacks already on the floor.

The second movie was different. In the first one, the blood was obviously fake and the acting wasn't the best (to say the least). But the second one was tense through and through. The cries of pain were so visceral that Robin shuddered, and in the end everyone was terrified. It was silently and unanimously agreed upon that everyone had had enough TV for the night. It was already 3 in the morning, but tomorrow was the weekend and right now Robin wouldn't be able to sleep even if she wanted to, and thus began Robin's first real boys talk.

It was funny at first. Sarah pretended to die of heartbreak when "the blond hot one" was unfortunately the second to die. Heather said the nerdy one with glasses and abs was cuter, which started a very heated discussion of whether blond or brown is the more attractive hair color. Robin had to defend her correct "redheads" opinion all by herself.

(When the others got into a stalemate Sarah turned to Robin. "C'mon", she pleaded, "you know that the blond one was hotter. Just tell us which one you found prettier! And don't forget that this is my birthday party."

Robin laughed at the ribbing, played a bit hard to get, until she finally admitted. "I actually found the first one who died the prettiest." Sarah was already halfway through her victory dance, when Robin corrected her. "No, I don't mean the dude. I mean the first one. The girl with the pink purse."

Everything was silent for a moment.

Then Emma laughed. "You don't have to be jealous Robin", she consoled, "you are also very pretty."

"Yeah, especially after our makeover!"

Robin laughed and agreed and continued on as if her world just hadn't been turned on its axis. Because she knew that the stirring in her gut and the beating of her heart had nothing to do with jealousy. She didn't find the blond one hot or the brunet one cute. That was the first time she really knew it. She liked the girl.)

It was a bit funny the first time, even though she couldn't really join. It got less funny the more it went on. Suddenly boys was the only thing everyone wanted to talk about. And worse: it wasn't just unreachable famous boys like singers or actors anymore. Suddenly it was all "oh, Steve Harrington is sooooo cute" or "oh my god, Tommy Hagan had suuuuuuch a glowup" and "I want to lick the sweat of his body after basketball practice" (this last one was applicable to multiple different people, including Steve and Tommy. It was not applicable for Chrissy when she exited cheerleading practice or Beth after football.)

She thought it would get better when Emma finally confessed to her crush and they actually got together, but no. It somehow got worse. Because "normal boy talk" turned into "experienced boy talk", and Robin wasn't allowed to admit that the only thing that got wet when she thought of Billy Hargrove was her mouth, because he made her want to throw up.

At first she'd say that she didn't have crushes. After a while of people refusing to believe her (even if she was telling the truth! Sometimes.) she started pretending to be into Steve Harrington. Every girl had a crush on Steve, so it made sense that she'd been embarrassed to admit that she was just like everybody else. He was way too far above her league for her friends to force her to "confess" and she could stare without fear when he passed by in the halls with the beautiful Tammy Thompson in his arms. Truly, it was a brilliant plan. It didn't stop the boys talk, though.

So she became a tomboy. She joined football and she hung out with boys and she cut her long hair into a bob. She lost a bit of touch with Emma and Sarah and the others, but she tried not to think about it too much. Instead she threw herself into sports and started hanging out more and more with Matt, the second trumpet in band.

And that was that. Sometimes she missed wearing dresses, but it was a relief not to have her mother insisting she "do something about that hair" anymore. She and Matt became best friends. She even considered telling him for a while. Until he sat her down and confessed his feelings.

She tried to let him down as gently as possible, and they never talked again. The cycle would repeat for multiple times.

Someone out there is laughing their ass off because who would have thought that the dude she pretended to have a crush on would turn out to be the missing half of her soul?

It started out like always. She teased him, he laughed. They suffered through customer service together. He was funny and surprisingly in touch with his emotions and apparently babysat a bunch of middle schoolers, which was equally hilarious and adorable to watch. They both enjoy sports and they both hate Billy Hargrove with a passion and Robin is heartbroken because she knows she can't get attached. She has already been through this too many times to allow it to happen again. She gets close with a guy, they become best friends, he confesses, she can't reciprocate, they never talk again.

This is what is going to happen. She should already be used to it, but it still hurts. It's better for her to keep her distance. To encourage him to flirt with other girls, even if she can see that he mostly does it to amuse her.

And then they uncover an actual real life Russian spy network right beneath their place of work like some fucking blockbuster. And then they are pumped up with drugs and the next thing she knows is that they are both throwing up in a cinema bathroom.

And then it happens. Of course it happens.

He starts his little speech and her heart is already breaking. She surprises herself when she realizes how much she started enjoying Steve's company. He is a dingus, but she is also a dingus and they just fit.

She is already preparing her apology in her head (oh fuck work is going to be so awkward), but what comes out instead is what she wishes she could've said every time this happened. What she wished she could have said every time she got close to another person, every time her parents questioned if she finally found a boyfriend. Something she really tried not to feel ashamed of, but it was so fucking hard when you had to keep it hidden all the time.

(She remembers when she used to train in front of the mirror. She would stare at herself and repeat again and again "I am Robin Buckley and I am a lesbian. I am a lesbian. I am-")

She doesn't breathe as she waits for what she knows what comes next. What has to come next. There is a reason she never told anyone, always kept it hidden and to herself even if she wanted to scream it into the world. He will mock her and he will out her and he will be disgusted and-

"Tammy Thompson?!"

Instead they have girls talk. And Robin finally gets it.

#heteronormativity being like: every strong emotion you feel towards the other gender is romance #+ patriarchy being like: men are entitled to women #= robin suffering #</3 #fun fact i actually never had to invent a crush #like they questioned that i never seemed to be into anybody sometimes #but i always said it so vehemently and also outside of 'boys talk' that they just believed me after a while lol #but i know of multiple ppl who had to #robin stranger things #stranger things #steve harrington #robin buckley #pen.#stranger things drabble #robin buckley drabble #stobin #platonic with a capital p #platonic stobin #does this count as a character study?

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dreameroftheblue · 30 days

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I have lost my mind, he hijacked it and lives there now

#crowley #good omens fanart #anthony j crowley #crowley fanart #good omens crowley #greyscale #genuinely kinda funny going from rarely ever doing fanart to... drawing these guys more frequently than some of my characters LOL #he's Mine Now #just keep using him as face studies fulfilling the gay art urge 'warmup' before working on big difficult commission and a cooloff afterward #like I spent more than ten hours on a complex commission the past few weeks; and then relaxed right after doing this in under 2 haha #just gotta draw. ambiguously gendered tiddies sometimes. in a very fun easy style. you know how it is #top scar crowley my beloved

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archonsoflove · 9 months

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The Laws of Attraction

A Neuvilette Character Study

Gender Neutral! Reader/Neuvilette Pairing

SPOILERS AHEAD!

Fontaine’s politics had always been something of a theatrical marvel to outsiders. Raised in Inazuma, where even the smallest affairs – whether it be a whirlwind romance or a white lie – were kept secret to spare social ostracization, you found this strange.

The way crime was dealt with terrified, and both thrilled you upon your first visit to the Opera Epiclese.

“I do hope you have been enjoying your time in Fontaine.”

Out of all the members of the High Court to approach you, you had not expected Chief Justice Neuvilette, the Ordainer of Inexorable Judgement. This man’s demeanour in court alone had every spectator take in a breath, waiting on the edge of their seats for the final verdict.

“It was unlike anything I have ever seen in court before,” you admitted, casting your eyes down to the marble stairs leading to the Lucine Fountain.

Neuvilette had found you to be a refreshing addition to his days in court after your first meeting. As a highly regarded member of the Fouche family, he discovered that you had returned to Fontaine due to your mother’s health.

“I haven’t been home since I was little.” The wine had loosened your tongue on an evening invited out to dine with him. “But Fouche does have a lovely ring to it, doesn’t it? My father loved his work in and out of the courtroom…”

“Surely you are glad to be home?” sympathy swam amongst hues of lilac in his eyes. A tea candle glimmered in the centre of the table, trapping the deeper notes of violet in fire.

And you were. Seeing the land you wished you had grown up in took your breath away. Over the past few days, you had felt more at ease than you had ever in your twenty year life. There was something about the water, the air and the aura of the people that sent excitement thrumming through your being.

And just maybe, a certain attachment to your new acquaintance.

“I haven’t asked you about your vision yet,” Neuvilette observed, voice gentle in the late evening.

The two of you were walking through the quaintly lit streets down to the Marcotte Station when he brought it up. The day had been long and tedious, and your last enquiry for the day had passed.

“Oh?” you tapped the vision laying against your breastbone, much like the fine necklaces the Fontainian nobility so often wore. “I am afraid it’s not of much use. I was gifted as a Healer.”

A hint of a frown threatened to overtake the man’s features, before he stopped walking entirely. You were stunned when he brought an elegant and finely boned hand up to gently brush your cheek.

“In the time I have known you, I am most certain that the God of Dendro made no mistake when she chose you.”

The jolt your heart gave at hearing such sincerity did not go unnoticed.

“I suppose you’re right,” you tried to brush him off. “But surely your vision holds more weight than mine in terms of power?”

It was then that you noticed that Neuvilette did not hold a vision. But after so many visits to his office to deliver files, marvelling at the small bursts of hydro that seemed to land on his desk in small baubles, how could it be that he had no element to wield?

You hadn’t known about Navia until her appearances in court.

The weather had been terrible. And Neuvilette had remained in his office up until Thursday, shadows beneath his eyes, and pale hair falling from its usual style, framing his face.

“I’ve been neglectful lately, and for that I apologize,” he had started. The sound of tea being stirred filled the silence as you waited for him to continue. It was in moments like these that you knew an ear to lend was most appropriate.

His office remained the same: put together, and lined with shelves full of novels you couldn’t begin to familiarize yourself with.

“Navia is a very old acquaintance, and her father even moreso. He was held on trial, and I made an error that I still haven’t, and will never come back from.”

As he continued retelling the events of the past few days, you sat and listened. You could not help but look at the man before you, stunned and filled with grief, witnessing his composure slowly start to crack.

Thunder rolled outside, heavy and quaking. You both looked up inn surprise, as if that would help you acknowledge the sound better. A small, watery laugh left you, and you brought up a hand to wipe away a tear from your cheek.

Your heart swelled with empathy, seeing Neuvilette reaching for a handkerchief in his pocket. For a man so threatening in court, behind closed doors, he wore his heart on his sleeve.

Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon, don’t cry!

You had heard the children chant in the streets, jumping in puddles and huddling under parasols to fetch warm goods at the bakery. But you had held no truth in the saying, and simply found it charming.

But you found it strange that it rained only when Neuvilette locked himself away in his office for days on end after a particularly gruelling and unfortunate trial. You wondered if his lack of vision may have been a decoy…

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