#its a depiction of abuse i never see even though its like very common and its done in such a cool clever way
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There’s so much I love about Jack Stauber’s Opal but one thing that hits really hard is the depiction of the father, and the way emotional abuse and neglect is portrayed. He’s got the most abstract design, being constantly surrounded by mirrors as a way of showing how he’s so insecure about how he looks and behaves that he’s become insanely self absorbed and can’t see anything other than himself. And as he talks to Claire he’s really just monologging while constantly tripping over his own words and projecting his insecurities onto her absolutely unprompted. You can also see the way he views himself as a savior, the way he pats himself on the back for taking time to talk to his daughter, the way the man he sees in the mirror looks much prettier than the real thing, the fact he says god is in his skin and he’s granting the world its next new savior. All while not letting Claire talk, all while spending the whole conversation invested in himself, all while doing nothing to stop the grandfather from harming her and even getting upset when she runs away, asking if she knows how it makes him feel. It’s too damn real
#the klock keeps ticking#opal#jack stauber#the way hes just so insanely insecure and has clearly been abused before too but doesnt really unpack it reminds me so much of my mom#and the way he just forces claire to listen to his monologue and calls himself a savior just for like#talking to her even though he doesnt pay an ounce of attention to whats happening in her life#just like my dad#and he just like. knows hes the ‘good’ one in the house like he knows claire trusts him most#and he thinks that just makes him so special that he doesnt have to do anything#and in claires fantasy her dad is for once just looking at her and not himself#its a depiction of abuse i never see even though its like very common and its done in such a cool clever way#feels validating as hell and also like fuck that guy and everyone else in that house i hate them 👺#give claire a better home and a burger#godddd ive seen opal so many times i am eating it its so good and so catered to me#but god its hits really hard too i get chills every time
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Neglect | Sandman Imagine
Summary: You and your husband Morpheus were never a conventional couple, but as the king returns from his imprisonment he seems to want to mend your relationship.
Pairing: Morpheus x Goddess! Reader
Requested: Yes
Morpheus and you were betrothed for millenniums, he didn’t agree to this marriage and he made that perfectly clear to you over and over. You were the Nordic Goddess of marriage and childbirth, Frea.
Which almost seemed like a cruel joke as your spouse would have mistresses left and right, he wouldn’t dream of touching you, you slept in separate rooms and in his you would hear and endless parade of women screaming your husband’s name.
It was hell, but you endured it because you were married and you could not disrespect your arrangement, even though Morpheus did at every chance he got.
Marriage actually meant something to you.
But it was as if he would act to deliberately disrespect you, to make you hate him, he wanted to break you, but you didn’t budge, you simply accepted him for who he was and did your best to fulfill your duties as queen.
The dynamics went on for 9,000 years, for most people it would be unthinkable, but the disrespect and hatred that your husband depicted had become so normalized in your brain it did not bother you anymore.
Against all odds you never had a lover, so you remained completely pure and honest to your oath, you were this clear, loving goddess as your husband succumbed to pleasure.
But everything changed as Morpheus disappeared for a hundred years, at first it didn’t worry you, it was very common in the King of Dreams to leave for days in seeking of a new mistress, but as years went by, you did fear the worst.
The kingdom slowly began to crumble at its core, feeling the notorious absence of the king. You continued to take care of the realm even as it was destroyed, you gave your subjects hope, and most of the people from the Dreaming decided to stay for you.
Because unlike Morpheus, his people did have a deep care and respect for you, and they were glad you were left as regent because you would take good care of them, even in times of need.
To be honest you lived that whole century in peace, at last you didn’t have to put up with constant abuses, you didn’t feel like you were unworthy, you did not spend countless nights wondering what had you done wrong, you slept in the peace and quiet of The Endless’ absence.
Until one day, he returned. You felt him again, it was one of the many things that you shared, you could perceive one another.
Yet, you didn’t run to encounter him, you simply went on with your activities as if nothing was happening, quietly programming yourself to hear his constant insults or intense stares.
You were working on the library, subconsciously hiding from Dream, you got completely caught up in your activities.
“Y/N?” You heard his distinctive voice behind you, you took a deep breath before meeting his gaze, prepared for the worst.
But you were greeted by an unknown image, Dream was looking down at you with tenderness and a glimpse of shame. What he did next, was unthinkable for the Endless you thought you knew.
He grabbed his arms around you and embraced you fully, he was holding you as close to his body as he was physically able. He took in your scent, burring his nose in the crock of your neck, causing goosebumps to rise in your skin at the unknown sensation.
Your body was rigid under his touch, while Morpheus seemed to melt at the mere contact of your skin.
He pulled away from you, still holding you by your waist, you rested your hands at either side of his forearms.
“I’m so happy to see you, Frea” you raised your brows, not being able to contain your surprise “I’m deeply sorry for my absence, but I was held captive… I could only think of you in the coldness of my isolation” he confessed, having you at the loss of words, his absence was explained but you could not make up the brutal chance in the man you wed.
“I know I have being the most disgusting and disrespectful spouse to you and I want to mend all the damage I inflicted on you. I wish to be the husband you deserved from the very start”
You blinked, taking in his words, you could tell he was speaking truthfully, you always had a way to know if he was lying or not. But all of this was a lot to take in.
“Say something, please…” he begged, you could see he was suffering with your silence, you did not want to punish him, it was just that this new version of Dream was everything you ever dreamt of, it was disruptive to have him standing in front of you, saying all this.
“I don’t know what to say Morpheus” you sincerely spoke. “I mean, just think of how we have lived this past 9,000 years… How do I know you are true and you would not run back to your old ways” he looked down, embarrassed.
You had all right to distrust him, in your place he wouldn’t know what to do.
“Because you were the only thing I was certain of during my imprisonment. I mean you kept our people here, you took care of the realm when you could have left”
He cupped your face in his hands, looking at you intensely, you had many chances to leave him and you did not.
“Tell me not even a part of you wishes that we fix this. That we live happily married like we were supposed to” you laughed, out of nervousness.
“It’s all I’ve ever wanted, Dream” you said, he wasted no more time and for the first time in history, Morpheus kissed his wife out of love and not obligation.
You fully gave in, melting in his touch at last, he sneaked his hands all over your body, stopping at your butt, his kiss became more and more intense, he squeezed your ass with both hands making you gasp at the feeling.
Morpheus had never touched you like this, with such urgency and lust, not even in your wildest dreams did you imagine your husband could be able of wanting you so badly.
It was addicting to feel wanted like this, to be handled with such expertise. You pulled away from his lips but Morpheus would not have it as he kissed your neck instead.
“Morpheus… we’re at the library”you breathlessly reminded him, you did not feel in the mood of being walked on a compromising situation.
Your husband groaned, understanding that he needed to stop. He smiled at you, taking your hand in his and practically dragging you out of the place.
“Morpheus, where are we going? You need to rebuild the Dreaming” you went on as you were dragged into the throne room, the doors closing behind you.
He pulled you into his chest, smirking as his hands went down your body painfully slow, this time lifting the fabric of your dress, exposing your skin.
Morpheus pulled your hair aside, kissing your shoulder blade up to your neck, stopping at your ear.
“We have a marriage to consummate first, my queen”
Shivers ran down your spine in excitement of the unknown, the only thing you had for certain was that you had a long night ahead of yourselves.
#the sandman comics#sandman imagine#sandman netflix#dream of the endless#morpheus dream#sandman x reader#tom sturridge x reader#tom sturridge#sandman shitpost#morpheus sandman#sandman smut#dark morpheus#morpheus smut#morpheus imagines#morpheus#sandman comics#the sandman#dream of the endless x reader
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Re: Billy & Dissociation
One of Billy's main coping mechanisms is dissociation, which I think we can see some clear examples of throughout the series as well as in Runaway Max. Not much attention is drawn to it, though, so it might be less obvious. It's sometimes hard to capture what this explicitly looks like, but hopefully I can give some examples. I think that this coping mechanism helped him survive up until his death. That includes fighting the control of the Mindflayer when he could, and protecting himself as best as possible from the pain when he couldn't.
Billy is pretty isolated by his experiences with abuse, which would seemingly make him the perfect victim for the Mindflayer. However, it never accounted for the body and mind it was stepping into. That is that Billy is strong and capable of withstanding pain, and that Billy is defiant and capable of blocking out a lot of what is happening at any given moment. Picking Billy as its victim was its fatal flaw, because it didn't consider Billy as a survivor. It underestimated his resilience, and I think this could also be Vecna's fatal flaw when he really goes toe to toe with Eleven.
I've talked briefly about Billy's fight, flight, freeze, and fawn responses to abuse. Here, I am mostly going to talk about flight. Dissociation is a kind of mental flight. It's a way of pretending that what's happening is not really happening, and it's a very common coping mechanism in people with CPTSD (which I believe Billy has from chronic abuse). It can be a maladaptive coping mechanism, but it can also be a lifesaver to someone unable to physically leave an abusive situation. For Billy, I think it helped him survive Neil and end The Mindflayer.
Runaway Max has its issues; mainly, attempting to depict Billy as a "sociopath" despite glaring red flags throughout the book that Billy is being horrifically abused on a regular basis. Yet, it does give us some insight into his coping mechanism through the eyes of Max. As she is just a kid, Max doesn't really get it but she does notice that Billy seems distant or even sleepy quite often. It's hard for her to tell what he is thinking, and that may be because he's barely there at all. Billy is beaten very badly in that book, but he shuts down while it's happening.
All of these things indicate that Billy may be dissociating in order to take the abuse. Combine that with substance abuse, it's all a way to shut down the pain he is feeling in order to just survive. We can see this in the show itself, too. Billy does a lot to distract himself. He's surrounded by music. He will do multiple tasks at once - smoking, lifting, and blasting music, to seemingly drown out everything else around him. He is simultaneously loud and in your face while being locked up quietly inside his own head. His loudness, a distraction.
With Dacre already confirming that Billy has anxiety, it makes me think Billy has developed maladaptive daydreaming as a coping mechanism which is a form of dissociation. This involves hyperfixating on daydreaming to the point of blocking out reality. It differs from regular daydreaming because it is a maladaptive coping mechanism commonly associated with trauma. Things like listening to music excessively and withdrawing from one's relationships can be a clue. We see this with Billy and with Max, after Billy's death.
Billy gives this air of not giving a shit about anyone or anything. He even tells Max he "doesn't care" why she's late, but much of Billy's "I don't give a shit" attitude seems to stem from his inability to mentally focus on the world around him in any meaningful way. He is just surviving in it. We can see this by the way he's not much invested in the lives of his new "friends" or the girls he attracts. I don't think Billy's fully there most of the time, and from the way he just sits in the car with his head back looking into nothing, it appears he dissociates frequently.
One thing people who use dissociation to cope with abuse get really good at doing is just doing things on autopilot. You don't feel "present" in your body. It can feel like you are hiding within a shell of yourself and your outward self as presented to other people is just a performance. You can say and do things without much thought. This in my experience leads to depersonalization. Not being able to connect with your body or your mind, and it kind of feels like being possessed even when you're not. Coming back to yourself after can feel overwhelming.
I think of this in the context of Billy mentally escaping the Mindflayer by finding safety in the old memory of his mother, only to come back to his body full force with the realization that he had the power to end it all. He was able to protect that part of his mind just enough so that the Mindflayer could not maintain full control. He was already used to his body belonging to other people. The way his dad used it as a punching bag. The way people used him as their toy for other things. The Mindflayer taking it from him was a shock, but not exactly new.
To deal with the pain of being abused, Billy had to shut down all the feeling he could. We see this with the way he can just take hit after hit without slowing down. We see this with the tremendous amount of pain he withstands from the Mindflayer. Pain does not get any less painful with each additional hit, but it can feel less painful if he's able to separate his mind from his body which he does. He flies away from it, retreating into his memories. He's not being hurt. He is on the beach. His mother is smiling at him and he is happy.
The Mindflayer did not account for that. Yes, Eleven helped, but it did not consider that Billy already had years of experience surviving abuse behind him unlike the seemingly well adjusted victims it took when it had its claws in Billy. Billy could take the pain. Billy could keep a part of himself safe from the whirlwind of trauma within him. Billy could separate his mind and body so that when he was ready, he could come back to it and throw all of his remaining energy into destroying the very thing that tried to control him.
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The Life of Royals - His Side of The Story
Genre: Fluff + Hurt/Comfort
Pairing: Lucifer/F!MC
Summary: When you were seven, you held a fake wedding by the swings with a kid you met at a park. You never saw your childhood ‘spouse’ again after that day. Today you received a letter summoning you to a foreign country, where your wedding to the heir to the throne twenty years ago is seen as valid. -Prompt by @writing-prompt-s
TW: Mentions of bullying [verbal] and also a bit stalker-ish behaviour. Also, this chapter is super long, so grab a blanket and some cookies and enjoy the story!
| First Chapter | Previous Chapter |
Lucifer didn’t understand why he was here, in this foreign house; in this foreign country; with these foreign people.
Lucifer didn’t understand why he needed to be separated from his parents, his brothers and his attendants.
Lucifer didn’t understand why the other kids didn’t like him, ostracised him, and verbally abused him with harsh words and insults.
‘You need to learn the commoners' way of living in order to provide a better future for them’
Why? He didn’t understand.
All he wanted now was to hug Mammon; play with Levi; argue with Satan; have a mini picnic by the garden with Asmo and coo over his new twin baby brothers.
'Why?
Why did Father send me here?
Did he not love me anymore?
Why can’t I see my brothers anymore?
Why am I the only one sent here?
Where is Jean?
Where is my favourite pillow?
Where is my favourite book?
Where are my favourite clothes?’
Lucifer sat down by the swings with tears in his eyes.
Once again, the kids at school threw insults at him. He didn’t understand why. All he did was order them around. He didn’t even punish them for their insolence this time. Should they behave in such ways in his country, he definitely would have their families fired from their jobs and lock them all in the dungeon.
“Hey!” Lucifer saw a figure crouching down to look up at his pathetic face, “Are you okay?”
'Who is this girl?’
“Do you want to play with me?”
Such seven words that he missed hearing after four months of living in this place, “Can I…?”
The girl smiled brightly.
Lucifer didn’t remember the last time someone his own age had smiled at him like this.
The only one who ever smiled at him during this period of four months was the old man who acted as his foster grandparent, and the teachers in the school—though it was obvious to him that such smiles were fake.
“What’s your name? Let’s be friends! My name is MC.”
'Friends?’
Lucifer felt his mood going down again after realising she might not want to be his friend after hearing his name. After all, the kids at school stopped acting nice after knowing his name.
'Is my name really that bad?’
“What’s wrong? Are you feeling sick?” She looked at him with worries clearly depicted in her expression.
Such a refreshing expression to see after constantly witnessing many disgusted and loathed expressions from others.
“Aren’t you going to be mad at me?” Lucifer added, “My name is Lucifer.”
'Go, please go before I get my hopes high…’
But much to his surprise, the girl took his hand and beamed, “Well, you have a nice name and you look kind, so I don’t know why I should be mad. Let’s be friends, Lucifer!”
-------
“That’s so disgusting! Get that thing away from me!” Lucifer shuddered.
“Aww, come on! You’ll like it! It’s cute!” She handed him the frog she found.
“I said no!” Lucifer immediately slapped her hand away from him, causing the frog to fall down to the ground and quickly hopped to its safety back in the bushes.
The look on the girl’s face made Lucifer’s blood run cold.
Anger, disappointment, regret.
'I did it again… Now she hates me…’
“Hey! That’s not very nice!” She frowned. “My sister said, you should treat your friends with kindness!”
'Kindness?’
“Well, maybe I’m at fault too for forcing you…” She tapped her chin in confusion before beaming again, “Okay, I’m sorry. I won’t force things on you again.”
“Am I… not kind enough?”
“Well, if I compare you to all my other friends, no.”
Lucifer felt the similar pain of daggers stabbing into his heart as soon as the words left her mouth.
“But you’re okay. My father said, “if we treat people with kindness, then people will be kind to us too!”
“So… you don’t hate me?”
“No.” She shook her head.
Lucifer looked over to the girl’s figure as she was humming a song he didn’t know and scribbled something on the sand with a twig you both found a minute ago. He couldn’t explain the whirlwinds of emotion he was currently feeling but he was really grateful for the girl’s calming presence.
“Hey, we’ve been here long enough. Let’s go play somewhere else!” She grabbed Lucifer’s hand and took him to a nearby ice cream store.
------
It was a long day and for the first time ever, Lucifer really had fun.
“Bye! I’ll see you tomorrow!” The girl waved excitedly at him.
“Bye!” Lucifer smiled too. If he had the ability to levitate, he’d most definitely be walking on air right now.
Lucifer skipped happily to his home—or the place he's been staying at for the past few months—and saw a familiar tall figure standing outside the front door.
He couldn’t believe his eyes as he went running towards the person.
“Jean!”
“Your Highness! Finally, you’re home! I’m worried sick!”
Jean lifted Lucifer into his arms and hugged the young prince tightly, “Where have you been, Your Highness?”
“Oh, I was playing with a friend down by the park.”
“A friend? Oh! This is good news! Your Highness made a new friend!”
Lucifer felt delighted to know that Jean was proud of his progress but his next words made Lucifer’s stomach drop.
“Unfortunately, we’re going to leave tonight, Your Highness.”
“Leave?”
“Yes, we’re going back to the Eastern Kingdom.”
'B-but! I made a promise to meet her again tomorrow!’
“His Majesty has requested your presence back home. I’m sure His Majesty will love to hear the great news. You’ve grown, Your Highness.” Jean put Lucifer down to his feet before ushering the young prince into the house so he could start packing Lucifer’s things.
“Can you believe Prince Mammon cried every day because he can’t see you every morning? It was really hard to soothe him from his cries. I guess he missed you so much, Your Highness.” Jean chuckled.
Jean took notice of the lack of joy in Lucifer’s expression, so he added, “Your Highness, do you perhaps want to say goodbye to your friend?”
Lucifer’s sorrowful expression was the only reply the butler got.
.
“You’re funny, Lucifer. I like you a lot!”
“You’re fond of me?”
“See? You used those words again! It sounds so funny.” Her laughter rang throughout the park.
Lucifer only shyly played by the swings while waiting for his new friend to calm down.
“Well, I guess I like you too…” He pushed himself upwards with his toes while tightly gripping the swing chain.
“Hey, wanna marry each other?”
The question made Lucifer frown, “Marry? What’s marry?”
“My sister said, it’s a promise made by two people who like each other. They’ll stay with each other forever! I want to see you tomorrow too, so let’s make a promise!”
The giddy feeling inside his stomach was foreign to Lucifer but he caught himself smiling and nodding to the girl.
“Okay then, let’s marry each other!” she said before running over to Lucifer and grabbing his hand.
-------
“This is the report for this month. Nothing much happened except she got accepted to work in XYW Group as an accountant. And she also successfully rented a house near GoldieCreditCard street. It is a small apartment house with a balcony.”
Lucifer skimmed through the report in his hand while leaning back against his chair. His eyes were speeding through the paragraphs of words until he arrived at a page where the investigator had clipped a photo of the target, walking inside XYW Group’s building.
'I’m glad you’re doing well.’
Lucifer traced the outline of the photo with his forefinger and tried his best to keep a straight face.
“Your Highness?”
“Yes?” He closed the file and laid it down beside the multiple piles of paperwork on his study desk.
“May I inquire with you about something?”
'Brave, aren’t we?’ Lucifer smirked before signalling him to continue with his question.
“I have been following this lady’s activity for a few years now. Is Your Highness suspicious about her behaviour?”
“No.” Lucifer took his favourite fountain pen from the pen stand and began writing details on the cheque.
“Then–”
“This lady is my wife .”
As if he didn’t just drop the most shocking news of the century, Lucifer handed the cheque to the private investigator and signalled Jean to escort him out with a nonchalant expression.
All the attendants in the room, including Lucifer’s secretary, were still in shock from the news.
“Jean!”
This startled Jean before he bowed apologetically and escorted the speechless man out from Lucifer’s study.
After shooing everyone from the room for some privacy, Jean approached the prince with teary eyes, “Your Highness…”
“Is it really that shocking to you?”
“Of course, it is, Your Highness! You never showed interest in marrying anyone even though you’ve passed the ideal age for marriage. The nobles are all talking but you keep rejecting your potential partners! I thought you’re not interested in finding someone.” Jean dabbed the corner of his eyes with his handkerchief.
“You’re being overly dramatic, Jean.”
“I only want what’s best for my Master.”
Lucifer couldn’t help but smirk a little while still going through the piles of paperwork. The King was resting in bed for the whole day after being sick yesterday, so Lucifer had to take over the workload.
“Your Highness!’ Jean whispered.
The grip on his fountain pen tightened as he tried to hide his annoyance to this butler of his.
"Why don’t you take her as your princess?”
“That’s impossible. We never really had a valid marriage. It was only a fake marriage, a child’s play.”
“A child’s play… Wait, is this the friend you made when you’re tasked to live in the Western Empire for a few months?”
The lack of answer from Lucifer confirmed Jean’s suspicion.
“No worries, Your Highness! You can just send a letter informing your situation to the High Priest. They can validate your marriage.”
Lucifer stopped his writing abruptly.
The long silence in the study room made Jean realise he had crossed the line and possibly incurred his Master’s anger. He was ready to apologise when Lucifer slapped his own desk, startling Jean from his standing.
“You’re an absolute genius, Jean!” The joy in Lucifer’s face made Jean heave a sigh of relief.
“Pass me a paper. I’ll write the letter now.”
“Right away, Your Highness.”
--------
“Yo, Lucifer! There’s a letter from the High Priest for ya. Got mixed into mine. Man, whatever is my butler doing? Mixing these letters around,” Mammon complained as he entered the room while waving the official letter around.
“May I, Your Highness?” Jean extended his hand to take the letter from Mammon’s hand. To which he complied and gave it to the butler.
“Anyway, why is the High Priest sending letters to ya? You’re getting married or somethin’?” Mammon flopped on Lucifer’s couch and grabbed a nearby cushion before laying down comfortably.
Lucifer didn’t answer his brother’s question. Instead, he was carefully reading the content before putting it down and slowly grinning.
“Jean, get that private investigator here. He’s going to have a lot of work to do.”
The butler could guess the content of the letter through his Master’s expression so he smiled brightly and got on to his feet, exiting the room immediately.
“Huh? What’s goin’ on? Why are ya hiring a private investigator?” Mammon got up and glanced back to the Crown Prince who’s still grinning widely behind his study desk.
“Mammon, you actually have an older sister.”
“HUH?”
--------
Did the sky really look this blue?
And has the grass always looked so green?
Did the flowers ever smell this nice?
Lucifer took a deep breath and exhaled contentedly before reading the reports again and again; noting your favourite food, your favourite colour, your favourite place, your favourite perfume fragrance.
With the occasional note he jotted down after his reading, he looked over to some of the photos taken by the investigator and smiled.
“Jean, furnish and decorate the room. This is her favourite colour and all the things she likes. Order the chefs to learn these dishes. Purchase furniture based on her favourite colour. Arranged the furniture based on her current home. Study her favourite flower and have the gardeners start planting those flowers in the flower bed. Make her feel welcome and at home.”
Poor Jean…
“We’ll be having a trip to the Western Empire in six months. Prepare everything before then.”
“As you wish, Your Highness.” Jean bowed before leaving the room.
Lucifer eyed the newly written message he wrote for his best friend, the Imperial Prince of Western Empire—or should he say, the Emperor of the Western Empire now—regarding his future visits to the empire.
Bringing his thumb and forefinger to his mouth, Lucifer whistled, calling for his messenger bird.
Patting the bird’s head gently, he tied the small paper to its leg and let the avian fly out the window to its destination.
Lucifer eyed the blue sky that seemed more vivid in colours again. He smiled to himself, noting the fast pounding inside his chest and deliberately ignoring the sensation.
“You need to learn the commoners' way of living in order to provide a better future for them.”
'Well then, Father, what are better ways than to have a commoner herself as a ruler?’
----------
Being a Crown Prince means every order issued by Lucifer will be fulfilled, obeyed and followed without any complaints. He didn’t remember the last time someone defied his wants—his needs—and made a fool out of him.
Being a Crown Prince means everyone will swoon over him; finding him attractive, fantasising about him and silently wishing they were at his place. He didn’t remember the last time someone refused to be near him, or just didn’t like him at all.
So why exactly–
“Umm… I guess I admire the Emperor…?”
–is his own wife saying she likes someone else who is not a Mr Perfect like him?
(Emperor Diavolo is perfect too, mind you!)
Oh, the rage in him.
That bitter taste at the back of his mouth; and that heat silently creeping on his back.
Lucifer felt angry, surprised, depressed.
Jealous.
“You-! How dare you! I don’t care who you like! I’m gonna drag you back home with me!”
It’s not a threat, but more of a statement.
Lucifer would do anything to get you back to his side.
--------
And true to his words, you’re now sitting in front of him with a joyful smile on your face as you enjoyed your dinner.
Imagine the pride in him when he successfully has you back. The constant longing had disappeared after years of only learning about your progress and not having the privilege to see you face-to-face like this.
Lucifer was happy, truly.
His first friend.
His first love.
Finally, you’re here, in your rightful place, with the right person.
-------
Lucifer didn’t know what possessed him.
“Don’t you think it’s shameful to have the Queen misspelt your name and title in official letters? Listen to me, Princess!”
'No! What are you doing!’
“You should not slack off! It’s been two weeks and your progress is really slow.”
’ Stop! Stop this! Do not say another word! ’
“Do you really think you have what it takes to be the Queen?!”
It was then he knew he should’ve listened to his inner subconscious.
The look of pain and tears on your face tore his heart apart.
Lucifer felt his own throat choke on him, limiting his oxygen supply. His blood ran cold and the extreme guilt washed over him, consuming his every being.
The words you mutter after that only worsen the pain. He was breathless, speechless and powerless as he concluded what he had done.
He hurt the woman he loves.
“If you really want your queen to be perfect, why don’t you just find a noble who’s certainly more suited for this!”
'No… don’t say that… please…’
Maybe he’s viewing himself in the positive light too much to even know that some people might not agree with him.
Maybe he valued himself too much to realise that some people don’t even like him.
Maybe he thought of himself as someone with enough power to rule over people to even comprehend that love cannot be forced.
So when you left the room with tears flowing down your face, you took half his soul away.
You’re so cheerful yet so blue.
So strong yet so fragile.
So free yet so loving.
So close yet so far.
--------
After reconciling his relationship with you, Lucifer moved on to the next agenda he had in mind. Still pretty much on-air after knowing you’re not mad at him anymore, he tried to focus on the new task at hand.
"Jean, we’re having a wedding ceremony in three weeks. Organise everything. And call my secretary over the first thing in the morning tomorrow.”
Lucifer put stacks of paper on the coffee table before continuing, “This is the concept the Princess and I had agreed to. Match everything and make sure every request she wants is fulfilled.
Also, here’s a list of the expected guests, work together with my secretary and send the invitations. But place a hold on the invitations for the nobles in the Eastern Kingdom til the last week.
Arranged the syllabus for the Princess’s class and ensure she has a dance class with Madam Leela every day. Inform this wedding details to her personal maids. Let them know they need to prepare too.”
“Your Highness, if I may speak?”
“Yes?’
"Isn’t three weeks too short of a time to prepare for a grand wedding? A royal wedding?”
“You can manage.” Lucifer kept his expression straight, never letting any emotions pass through.
“…Is this my punishment for this morning?”
“Oh? You mean when you deliberately set me up to meet the Princess in my drunken state? Oh, no no. You know I won’t punish you. Right, Jean?” Lucifer slowly smirked behind his cup of coffee.
“Oh, and another thing, starting tomorrow, make this coffee with the exact temperature of 80℃.”
…
You need a hug, Jean?
------
The longer he spent time with you, the more he found himself having trouble keeping his hands to himself. Hence, the incident that happened that night.
“Your Highness, I didn’t know…” Jean brought his hand to his mouth and feigned surprise.
“Shut it, Jean! It was a mistake!” Lucifer covered his blushing face with his hands, trying so hard to calm down and forget the incident.
'What is wrong with me? Why am I like this? I’m a Prince! A Crown Prince! A calm and composed Crown Prince! The Ice Cold Prince!’
Inhale.
Hold it in.
Exhale.
'That’s it, Lucifer. Calm and composed.’
After all, it’s okay, right? You’re his wife. He has every right to touch you or hold your hand.
Yes! He’s your husband after all.
(Lucifer, the Avatar of Consent)
Sitting straight again, he ordered, “Update.”
“Yes, Your Highness. Tomorrow will be the last lesson Her Highness has with Madam Leela. The wedding dress will be ready in 2 days after they receive Her Highness’s measurements. They will come by after that to test it on Her Highness and make some alterations should Her Highness feel the need.
The rings are still in the making. The venue is almost ready. Around 95% of the guests have responded and they’ll be here a day before the ceremony. An invitation letter for the High Priest was sent this morning and His Majesty will be making an appearance during the early time of the ceremony.”
“Good. What about my brothers’ tuxedos?”
“They’re all ready.”
“Excellent. That’s all. I won’t be needing you again for tonight. Take a rest.”
“Thank you, Your Highness. And please, sleep early for today. You looked very tired. Should I run you a bath before I go, Your Highness?”
“Yes, that will be very much appreciated. Thank you.”
Lucifer took off his leather gloves before flexing and stretching them. The sight of his bare hand brought him back to the incident during dinner. He felt himself blushing again from the faint sensation.
Soon, he will be able to hold your hand freely, whether on the palace grounds or in public.
-------
Well, he certainly had his wish granted.
Lucifer can now hold your hand for as much as he ever wanted, while he stared at your flushed complexion.
Your breathing was shallow and your eyes remained shut. The sight of you fighting for your life made him squeeze your hand tighter, trying to find comfort in you; and to know you’re still alive by the warmth of your hand.
The physician unclasped the velcro of the blood pressure monitor before standing straight and giving her reports, “Your Highness, Her Highness is having a fever. Based on the blood test, it wasn’t due to infections or poisonous material.
However, her high blood pressure suggests that she’s a bit stressed and might have been overworking herself. I recommend Her Highness stay in bed until the fever wears off. I will prescribe the appropriate medicine and come by again tomorrow morning to check on her progress.”
“Understood. You may leave.”
The physician bowed before leaving Lucifer alone in the room with you.
You haven’t gained consciousness ever since Lucifer found you, so the anxious feeling inside him didn’t subside even after hearing the report from the physician.
'Overworking? Stress?’
Was it because of the expectations he forced on you earlier during your first week?
“MC, I’m so sorry… This is all my fault.” Lucifer brought your hand to his cheek and leaned to it, praying silently for you to wake up.
He refused to leave your side even after Jean and his brothers told him to rest. Being in the same room with a sick person could increase his own chances of getting infected but Lucifer didn’t care.
He was blaming himself for not noticing your rapid progress these past few days. He should’ve told you to go within your own pace, to not force yourself, and to not listen to his delusional ideal.
As much as his throat constricted at the thoughts of your weak condition, his pride as the Crown Prince refused to let him cry. Lucifer felt the need to stay strong and patiently waited for you to wake up.
It’s alright, he believes in you.
You’ll come back to him.
You have to.
After all those efforts he went through just to have you by his side again.
And now that you’re here, you can’t leave him.
Right…?
The grip on your bed sheet tightened as Lucifer forced himself to throw those negative thoughts away.
Suddenly, Lucifer felt a hand brush against his gloved hand and shot up to sit straight.
There you were, still weak and in need of rest, “Lucifer…? What are you doing in my room? It’s nighttime…”
Your voice was hoarse.
“MC, are you feeling okay?” Lucifer brought his hand to your forehead to check your temperature.
You grabbed his wrist and weakly lifted his hand from your forehead, “Don’t touch me, Lucifer. I’m sick.”
“It’s fine. I was too worried about you to even think about myself.”
“Don’t say that, please. Take a rest, Lucifer. I’ll have Rose and Marie to take care of me.”
Respecting your decision and also wanting you to rest at ease, he complied with your request, “Alright. Rest well, my Love.”
He grabbed your hand and planted a soft kiss on your palm before tugging you in properly and leaving the room.
Now that he thought about it, he rushed to your side after a very busy day and didn’t leave afterwards. He also hadn’t eaten a single thing today.
No wonder Jean was worried.
Heaving a heavy sigh, Lucifer went back to his own chamber.
| Masterlist |
#obey me#obey me shall we date#omswd#obey me lucifer#om lucifer#obey me lucifer x reader#obey me luci x reader#obey me writing#obey me fics#obey me fanfic#obey me fluff#han writes#f!mc
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England is a notoriously wet place so it’s only fitting that Galar went hard on aquatic Pokémon. Welcome back to my series where I cover the real-life inspirations for all non-fish aquatic Pokémon. Today I’m going over generation VIII. For previous generations, see gen I part 1, gen I part 2, gen II, gen III, gen IV, gen V, gen VI, and gen VII. For my previous series where I covered the origins of all fish Pokémon see here. Starters and legendary/mythical Pokémon will be covered in their own series.
We start with Chewtle and I have to ask; what the hell were they thinking when they approved its design? I get it’s probably supposed to be a bit ugly, but it’s so bad it almost ruins the whole line even though Drednaw is awesome. The line are based on snapping turtles. Snapping turtles are members of the family Chelydra and are native to the Americas (though fossils show they were once more widespread) and are predators who use their extremely powerful jaws to bite prey in half. They are also extremely aggressive and can hurt humans with their power bites, especially since they can all get very large by turtle standards. There are two genera of snapping turtles and Chewtle is based on the smaller common snapping turtles.
(image: a grumpy old man common snapping turtle)
Drednaw is based on the larger and much scarier alligator snapping turtle. If you’ve never seen one you can’t really understand how huge and powerful they are.
(image: an alligator snapping turtle being held by a person. This isn't even as big as they get)
Like actual snapping turtles, Drednaw has a long and flexible neck that is usually retracted in its shell. Its jaws can bend metal, which is true of some real life (mostly sea) turtles. You may be wondering why an American species of turtle is in England, but that’s because it also drawn inspiration from England’s naval history. Its name and some elements of its gigantamax design come from the dreadnought, a class of warships first invented in England that majorly influenced naval warfare from then on. Its horn looks like a bowsprit and the underside of its shell (called a plastron) has a boat keel on it. Gigantamax Drednaw being a massive, bipedal turtle probably draws from Gamera, a kaiju created as a competitor to the Godzilla movies.
(image: Gamera as depicted in the Heisei-era movies)
I just can’t get over how well designed Drednaw is when Chewtle and gigantamax Drednaw look like absolute dogshit. How the hell did that happen?
More seabirds is a welcome addition to Pokémon and Cramorant is… well they tried. As the name suggests, it’s a cormorant. Cramorant’s pose looks a lot like the pose cormorants take when they dry themselves on rocks. Cormorants feed on fish and swallow their prey whole, much like how Cramorant hunts Arrokuda. Cramorant is likely based on the two species found in the British Isles: the black cormorant and the common shag (why do we let British people name things?). Cormorants are occasionally trained to catch prey and bring it back to their trainers instead of eating it, which likely inspired Croamorant bringing fish with it thanks to its ability. It spitting caught prey at enemies as a form of defense likely comes from defensive vomiting, a strategy employed by entirely too many seabirds where they projectile vomit at potential predators. To their credit, if my sandwich spewed half-digested fish and stomach acid at me, I probably wouldn’t eat it.
(image: a cormorant sunning itself)
I have wanted another take on octopi Pokémon since gen II and Clobbopus and Grapploct are not what I wanted. Cool idea, I just don’t like the design. They’re just octopi combined with martial artists. Clobbopus is a boxer and may have been inspired by videos of octopi smacking fish. Glapploct is, as its category name states, a practitioner of jiu-jitsu, but also with some lucha libre inspirations. There’s really nothing more to them than that. Well there is the sport (read: recreational animal abuse) of octopus wrestling where divers would grab octopi and drag them to the surface, which was popular in the 1960s. I have no idea why they aren’t part water type other than maybe the devs didn’t want another water/fighting type in the same gen as water Urshifu.
(gif: an octopus punching a fish)
Joining Clobbopus in the “why isn’t this water?” gang, we have Pincurchin. I did my undergrad thesis on sea urchins so I have a soft spot for them. Pincurchin seems to be a generic sea urchin rather than any specific species. Its 5 hard teeth are a reference to the mouthparts of urchins, where each of their 5 radial body segments has a single “tooth”. They are arranged in a circular mouth that scrapes algae off of rocks.
(image: a sea urchin's mouth)
Many species of urchins have venomous spines that can break off inside of another animal and continue to inject venom. Pincurchin’s spines do the same thin, but instead of venom, they release electricity.
Eiscue is just a penguin. With an ice cube on its head. I don’t know what more you want from me.
The Arcto- fossils are a bit hard to pin down since we only have the rear half of the animal. The Galar fossils in general are based on inaccurate fossil reconstructions found often in early paleontology. During the bone wars, where paleontologists were in a race to discover new species, many unscrupulous scientists would stick together fossils from unrelated animals and call them new species. The Arctos seem to be based on some kind of marine reptile like a plesiosaur or ichthyosaur. We now know that a lot of these marine species were blubbery (which is likely why the Arcto half is so thick and even seems to have fur) and had small tail flukes just like the Pokémon. The Galar fossils in general are pretty up to date on their paleontology despite being based on outdated reconstructions.
(image: a modern reconstruction of a plesiosaur showing its fatty body and tail fluke. Source)
Next time I'll finish this series with the Paldea region. After that I'll go over the starters and the mythicals/legendaries.
#pokemon#pokemon biology#pokemon lore#galar region#chewtle#drednaw#cramorant#clobbopus#grapploct#pincurchin#eiscue#arctozolt#arctovish#snapping turtle#common snapping turtle#alligator snapping turtle#cormorant#sea urchin#Aristotle's lantern#penguin#plesiosaur#gamera
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hm idk how ur gonna feel abt an ask like this but i do want to get smth off my chest & u seem p safe. feel free to delete if u want
i saw a post recently talking abt how "gay" got used as a slur a lot more than people acknowledge. and it got me thinking of my school years & how often it got thrown around.
thing is. and heres where my train of thought goes off the rails. i actually experienced the word "incest" as an attack more than the word "gay"... which. ill explain. but it really got me thinking on this whole purity culture & demonising of incest depicted in literature & yknow taking things too far with whats considered incest.
bc at the end of the day. the reason incest is illegal (mostly) is to prevent inbreeding & the health issues that come along with that. if ur not blood related then theres no problem.
and like. the reason i got called incestuous and generally ostracised was bc i was close with a boy in my year. like we dated for a week as 14 yros do. and at some point i discovered that hey. his last name is the same as my aunts and lo and behold hes my 2nd cousin thru marriage or smth. so. not incest at all.
anyway that p much ruined our friendship (& it was a friendship. i broke things off before i even knew we were related bc i just didnt feel the same way and we stayed friends for a little bit) all bc some kids couldnt let it go that we had the vaguest relation to each other. he got bullied for the rest of our school year & ive felt horribly guilty for leaving him bc i wanted to be "cool" & ended up without any close friends like we were.
sorry if thats a weird thing to put in ur inbox.
Hey, anon. I don't mind this ask. I hope you don't mind me replying publicly. (In future if you don't just say so.)
This post will be a bit long, so I'll go ahead and put it under a readmore.
TW for discussions of "gay" used in a negative way, and discussions of the use of the word "incest," and its association with child sexual abuse, though there's really nothing terribly bad here as I'm not going into detail on any of thse topics. (If you need something tagged, though, let me know.)
Now, I'm old as dirt by tumblr standards, and I remember VIVIDLY the word "gay" being used in a negative light. As a kid, I didn't really see it used as a "slur" per se, but it was used to mean something was bad.
Like, if you saw a movie that sucked, you'd say "Man, that movie was so gay." It meant something like "lame."
So obviously, it wasn't a good thing, and when I got a bit older and was explained why using the word was bad, I stopped, and fortunately most other kids did too and it mostly faded from use (in that sense) at least as far as I noticed.
(I'm not saying gay hasn't been used as a more nasty slur/word ofc, this is just my personal experience with it.)
Granted, keep in mind when I was in high school, our LGBTQ+ club was just the "Gay/Straight Alliance." Back then, it was basically, you were gay/lesbian, or you were an ally. We never talked about trans people or nonbinary people or ace/aro people. Ofc every one of those identities/kinds of people existed, but as far as my world went, they didn't. Most of my circle of friends was queer in some way, but many were closeted or semi-closeted for various reasons.
Anyway, sorry for that detour. Now, as to your incest situation. I'm sorry that happened to you. It definitely wasn't fair. You didn't have any way to know if you were related, and if/when you did it was "easy" to end the relationship. But kids are kids, and they always love to find a way to single people out, and they probably didn't really care what the actual truth was.
Even if you'd discovered having a similar name was total coincidence, I'm sure they'd still have bullied you for "incest."
I wasn't bullied for it, thankfully, but I did have a classmate in high school with the same last name as mine. My name is very common in some places, but where I lived at that time it was not, so everyone assumed we were fraternal twins. He was a nice enough guy, but I really didn't want people to think we were siblings. But no matter how many times we both explained we weren't related, no one believed us.
Sometimes, once someone makes their mind up about something, there's no changing it.
As for "abandoning" your friend because you didn't want to be left out and regretting it, I get that too. There was a guy I dated when I was around 16, and we were very passionate, but I think honestly I entered a major depressive episode and lost all interest in everything, including him, and... anyway, I regret how things ended between us even today, many, many years later. I wish I could shake my 16-year-old self and tell them not to be so cruel, but we can't change the past, only learn from it and move forward.
With regards to antis/purity culture taking incest so far, I do agree it has gotten ridiculous. As you said, the reason incest is taboo is because of inbreeding, because if your (general you) DNA is too closely related, you increase the chance of having major/significant diseases due to a lack of genetic diversity. But antis tend not to understand the WHY's behind things (since they also believe pedophilia is bad bc it's disgusting, and not because it hurts children, who become real grown adults).
But I have seen some really wild takes called incest. Like a ship from one fandom where the male and female characters are friends. A lot of people consider it "problematic" apparently, because they have a "sibling-like" relationship. They did not grow up together, they aren't related, and yet that's "incest" according to antis.
I do want to mention another reason that incest can/is considered so bad, and it's because, despite what antis may think, most sexual abuse of children comes from someone close to them in their lives, often a family member or close friend. So for a lot of people, when they think of "incest," they closely associate it with sexual abuse of a child. It's possible that's why antis get so upset about it. I don't know. But that is another aspect to it. (Ofc for you, in your past situation, you were both around the same age, so that's not the case, but that association is there.)
But, in the end, in fiction, it doesn't matter, because there are not actual children who can be conceived or harmed, and so the whole purpose behind why incest isn't allowed in many places in modern times doesn't exist.
I hope you're doing OK now, anon. Don't be to hard on yourself. A lot of people have done things when they were young teens they regret and wish they could "undo," but as long as you learned from that experience so you could become a better person than that 14-year-old version of you, I think you're doing OK.
Sending you some hugs. <3
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World End Solte Volume 2: A Dougnut In A Doughnut
Adventure. Magic. Mystery. Isekai (but not really). A man with a mole head. Gods and Spirits and Faeries. Where does World End Solte draw the line? World End Solte responds with, "ha, what line?". In short, it's a testament to how crazy something can be while still having its eyes on a prize, and a very specific one at that.
World End Solte volume 1 gives readers very little to go off of, but this volume is really where things kick off. Where reality and time warp and meld and you come out of a fish's butt to a Flying Mountain that's depicted to have existed in a historical text that has been proven impossible to decipher over the 40+ years it's been known for (it's a manga). So let me dive into it.
Time loops are hard to get right. World End Solte gets it right by adding its own rules to the mix. Only one person (?) travels back in time with information regarding what the future holds. But the present changes, it's not repeated to a T and isn't something that they can predict perfectly. It creates just the right feeling of confusion, while providing a solid set of steps for the group to take on their adventure.
And I must say, Mizukami makes incredibly short work of using it to its full potential, by extracting exposition from characters. Filo and Black end up opening themselves up rather quickly because they've believed that they'd do it anyways, so easier to get it done and over with.
What I love about this is that it doesn't abuse it. We get loads of information, but just as much remains infinitely puzzling. Sure, we see that Ruud was originally just a nerd before being influenced by Black, and that Cyril grew up in the same town. But Linsen is an enigma that nobody knows anything about. The same goes for what constitutes a God vs a Sprit, and why countries will form contracts with them in the first place.
We don't know anything about Spirit Sickness other than when it's usually contracted. And we have no idea why the king (who has spirit sickness) refers to themselves as "we". So in a sense, World End Solte is rather cunning with information, giving you a nice helping of it when it does, but also slipping in just how massive and indecipherable the world at large is.
Indecipherable, that's a good word to segue with. The Glen Text, touted as an important cultural text that holds great important to the Fiend Realm, but like I stated earlier there's been zero progress in deciphering it. The joke is, however, that the text is just a manga that Black of all people can read. Yeah, he's isekai'd (sorta) just like the author of the text. I lied though, it's not really an isekai, it's memories of a previous life. It's something that's shown to be common through the use of a magical relic that appears in the text.
And that's what makes World End Solte so indecipherable. It's taking in tropes and concepts and cliches, chewing on them thoroughly, and then spitting them out in a form where all that remains is the name of the thing. Travelling a dangerous and disturbing realm that even veterans struggle with? How about you start off by walking down a road where feet and hands pound the ground on either side? Or what about a never-ending spiral walkway that distorts all sense of time and reality?
I wouldn't say the magic or the history or information is what gives this volume its flair, but rather Mizukami's style applied to a good concept. Magic is taken incredibly loosely, and the limits of it are applied in just the right amount to create an incredible scale with which to approach the world. It's wide and dangerous, but at the same time is shown to be incredible exciting and engaging. Perfectly nonsensical without sacrificing its story or appeal.
It's Playful, But With A Bite
#world end solte#saihate no solte#satoshi mizukami#manga recommendation#manga review#anime and manga#manga
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Okay, so this is going to be awkward but maybe you can help me out. I don't understand how Randor is abusive to Adam in the episode you reviewed. Adam wasn't doing what he was supposed to so he emphasized that it was important? and I was also super abused as a kid so please don't like. Idk make assumptions about me. Not that you were gonna, just so you know.)
No, I get it. The thing about parents like Randor in media is that they're not often intended to be abusive, they're intended to be strict and to have high standards, especially in a series where the child is clearly "underachieving", which Adam is framed as. I'm pretty sure me reading Randor as emotionally abusive is not the intended reading of the series, though I do think we're not meant to view him as a great father regardless.
However, it's been twenty years since this show came out, and psychology has come a long way. People are more aware of what this kind of demanding, unyielding parental figure does to a person growing up under their care and people are more open about their personal stories of how they've been damaged by their parents. This very website has several former children of strict parents who discuss how they have trust issues with their parents to this day, or how they feel unmotivated to do things because of constant criticism while growing up.
The harsh criticism of Randor in episode 14 specifically might seem out of place because, as I stated in the episode wrap-up, Adam did have a lesson to learn, so he was technically in the wrong. However, Randor being dismissive or outright cruel towards Adam for perceived laziness or cowardise has been a consistent thing in their interactions since episode one. It says a lot that the only time Adam wanted to tell his father he's He-Man, it was to defend himself against his father's words, never because he trusts the man. Adam turns to Orko, Man at Arms or even the Sorceress over his own father, because Randor's harsh attitude has pushed Adam away from him emotionally. Adam can't trust his father. He can't go to him for advice because his father will treat any weakness as a cause for cricism, instead of an opportunity to teach his son.
Ironically, episode 14 enforces this reading of Randor just not being there emotionally; Adam was left alone to figure out the cutlery, with Randor only showing up to check on how he was doing. Adam is expected to simply know things without any guidance from Randor. Even through the episode, when Adam starts seeing his father's kinder side, it's directed at people other than him, and Adam's attempts at acknowledging his new understanding of his father are completely ignored by Randor, causing him to turn to Man at Arms instead.
When Adam talked about how impressed he was with his father's handling of the Caligars, Adam was at first talking to his father but, when Randor simply kept walking without acknowledging him, he turned to Man at Arms instead, who was the one between the two men who wasn't ignoring what Adam was saying. Man at Arms is far more emotionally present towards Adam than Randor. It's like this scene is drawing a direct parallel between their parenting styles. No biological kids and this man beats Randor doubly at being a good dad.
The show has a lot of evidence that Randor has been emotionally neglecting Adam. It's just that emotional neglect is possibly the least-acknowledged form of abuse, sometimes to the degree that it's merely viewed as a different parenting style instead of actual abuse, so its actually quite common for it to be depicted uncritically even in children's media. That’s why I think it’s important to pay attention to this kind of stuff in media, it’s about pointing out things that get easily overlooked.
Basically, it's not that this episode in particular framed Randor as abusive, it's what this episode implies together with his other interactions with Adam.
#he man and the masters of the universe#motu#he man meta#also I'm in the Miraculous fandom and in that show emotional neglect is depicted as 100% abusive#it's kind of on my brain these days
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I am so sorry c!pumpkinduo enjoyers but I have to get something off of my chest a lil.
Please I beg of you stop interpreting c!pumpkinduo (in manburg OR in Las Nevadas lore) as a healthy, loving dynamic. It’s like the biggest misinterpretation of a character dynamic I have seen in my whole life which has got to be an achievement. There were obviously silly and funny scenes between them, ones that made their relationship look like a good one and thats exactly the point. Toxic relationships are not a constant and unwavering hurt.
[more in Read More, this is gonna be a long one]
First reason, watch any Quackity manburg vod ever and pay attention to the semi-lore bits it is literally so obvious that for one, Schlatt did not love him back. Two, He did not respect Q, and three, anytime that was brought up it turned into threats. Anyone remember that one time Q stated c!Schlatt did not respect him and he just threatened to lobotomize Q so that he couldn’t think like that for himself? Because I sure do. It directly lead to c!Q canonically having a plan to impeach/execute him.
It was never carried through, honestly, but it’s the thought that counts. Suppose the good moments and bits of attention he got out of basically begging not to be made fun of for like two minutes worked out. Admittedly a lot of the making fun of was just them being silly, Schlatt telling him to go to the gym, calling him flatty patty and Q crying that one time but tears are tears ☠️
You guys forget the way that the two characters ended up. CQ brought up SERIOUSLY that he was tired of being disrespected and cast aside as an equal member of Manburg, and of being constantly mistreated, and Schlatt literally started to fight him. Like. Their marriage ended in a physical battle in which Q pulled out a crossbow to get him away and Schlatt taunted him for being a coward. Their marriage ended in cQuackity shooting him to death, and directly after he went to Pogtopia with hopes of actively working against him.
Though the biggest application to cPumpkinduo being blatantly toxic is the first Las Nevadas lore stream. The entire first section of it actually, which I was rewatching and gathering quotes from.
CQuackity explicitly stated several times that just the thought of being around cSchlatt makes him uncomfortable, and that he gets flashbacks/terrible memories when he’s with him. I genuinely do not know where people got the implications through any of his lore that this was a happy and loving relationship but it sure as hell wasn’t here. Cant be just me who hates ppl trying to take a canon abusive relationship and portray it as loving. Its like taking cdiscduo and being like omg best friends!! (But to what feels like a lesser extent)
Of course it wasn’t abuse to the extent that it was with cdiscduo or very typical violence you see in media, but it was still mentally abusive, and eventually they still got physical. (I could also talk ab how freaky it is for ppl to depict their relationship as s3xua11y abusive but thats for another time. Its annoyingly common.)
Another thing I notice people tend to do is, for some reason, say that c!sweaterduo is a better enemies to lovers dynamic or even ship Revived cSchlatt/Wilbur/Q, which if you think about for more than three fucking seconds youll see how weird that is. CSweaterduo legit just fucking despise each other not in the homoerotic, enemies yo lovers way, they just genuinely want each other to die. I promise making them get together at some point whether it be the elections or after revival is not the move you think it is. CPumpkinduo was a canonically abusive relationship, and adding cWilbur to the mix? Yeah, no. No thanks.
I can see cTntduo, but the complete mischaracterization of cSchlatt as a whole is just… Weird! Sorry, it’s weird. Making an abusive character loving and filled with guilt over his actions when that has never been canonically displayed (quite the opposite in fact) just to ship your favs is strange. Especially on the coumpkinduo end where cQ openly expressed that cSchlatt made him uncomfortable and upset just to think about because of the impression he left.
Anyways thats the end of my rant I hope you enjoyed.
#cpumpkinduo#c!pumpkinduo#cquackity#cschlatt#i love em as much as the next guy but#please#i beg of you#you can love two characters and not diminish abusive relationships i promise#ive made 7 million posts ab this on twitter#im spreading word here now#dsmp
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What Does Life Look Like?
Chapter 1: Griefs of a Borderliner; My Mother.
I wanted to start off my ‘What Does Life Look Like?’ series talking about something. In fact I had wanted to not write something but… anyways!! It’s here now!
So, here goes… *loud whisper* nothing….
I’m a BPDer. That means I live with Borderline Personality Disorder.
I wanted to.. dive in deeply. Deeply into the depths of.. how I have these grievances & umm.. what are more my own personal experiences; a creation of shadows depicting things for you .
*breathes*
As you all know, people don’t just wake up one day & decide to grab these things . Cuz if I did, that’s just so silly?? Like… who would….
Who would want to cry inside all the bloody times?!
Cry about all day long sometimes having episodes of depressive bullshits that could last from hours to days?
Have such highhh intense emotions, where in which it feels as though I am .. in this case: grieving. The Dead?
Not a whole assed person, who’s alive and well & all that shit! No no, ahahaha, you’d definitely be mistaken . Mistaken it for the Dead, NOT ever for the .. bloody Living?!?!
I've thinking a lot lately. About how it is like to grieve the Living vs the bloody Dead peoples. How intense it is for me. How it must feel like for others with BPD too!
What I do grieve on is how much I will never ever... have that proper motherly connections. People have always been able to handle it. Haha.
But I? I jus cannot, in fact "handle it". Or "deal with it" as some may also say so.
It's like.. You're expecting me, someone who's tried to attempt at bettering themselves, finding ways to be better at approaching and shit-- keep going no matter what..? Why?
Why has it always been me ? Am I not allowed to complain? I used to says to myself, & I guess insolent creatures who barely have the capacities like the ways that I do, don't even think for a second why's it a failed dead relationship!
Don't get me wrong, I love my parents butt... IF you cannot accept one to be with an asshole of a lover or best friend-- what differences does it make if it's your own literal blood?
No sorry, lemme reframe that: Why would someone allow you to be with your abusive parents, but not with someone who isn't of your very own blood ? It's just fucking BLOOD. It doesn't mean Jack Shittingston!!
I grieve that. I grieve for not being able to have a family, it's been loong dead for me. You just aren't aware of it. Not up until now, perhaps? Huh.
I die each time I think about hugging my own mother. I just have stopped myself now, cuz mi mind's gonna play tricks on me.. again. She'll think that it is love, but the love that there is ? It cannot out weigh the pains and the horrors existing.
I can't ever talk about basic things now. It's gone too far onwards, through the mountains & high altitudes. I can't have proper conversations. A few bits and pieces are like peace through mild yet cautious common grounds. Common grounds are where the shit is calm seas. Sorta.
Unlike most, I can't ever talk about loves & shits alike. I can't speak my minds about my sexuality or my genderqueer identity. I can't exactly even speak of interesting Christian shits, so really... its all dead to me.
Sometimes I wonder. What's it like to have some kind of a relationship? With your mothers? How open are you? How does it feel like to have someone like that in one's own life? Tis not for .. those of us who're lacking them. Not us who don't have mothers. Rather those who do!
I feel so stuck. I feel extremely empty, trapped and suffocated. I don't like it but it's always just whatevers & a dash of eventuallys. The amounts of times I wasn't able to say "she's actually abusive." to those who's brain organs do exist unlike mines. I couldn't verbalise/vocalise it. I couldn't even see through it. Another thing to grieve . *whispers* it is it is..
Its true what they say, we BPDers be the grievers of what happened, and what has not happened. My soul breaks and she haunts the chasms of my dark abyss of a body. The mind. There's a whole detachment that goes on. A whole loada heaviness and sadness weighing down upon me. You can't climb up; up and leave it be. Wounds freshly seared and becoming known to me, it'll take a whole lot of an eternity to heal.
If I were immortal, perhaps I would be able to tell you the deeper differences of grieving Dead vs Living peoples. Sadly, ahaha, I am no immortal being, I am but a mortal soul who knows how to merely explain the differences.
To grieve the Dead, is to know that they are forever gone, gone far off into the Spirit Realm. Gone & always remembered. Heaviness weighs you and you cannot see them ever again. Not yet for now. Probably wishes of changes or words or things wanting to have been solved blossoms. They bloom within you. Years can go by, it can still hurt you, make you cry sometimes-- become so sad & lonely even.
To grieve the Living, is to know that they are still alive, here still breathing. Existing . An avalanche of horrors happen too, cuz you realise that there's no way things can be amended or fixed or whatever. You watch them daily, crying on the insides, detaching yourself and endlessly attempting to make changes that evaporate into the thin airs.
At the end of the day, they both still hurt. 1 where you wish shit could've changed before they passed on wards. The other, you wish to solve things & make em better-- but you've already come to terms that it's allll bloody dead. Gone away, so very far away. I guess I'd rather sit in the depths of Hell than to be alive on this damned realm & die continuously from stress & sadness. To me, grieving the Dead is far more better than grieving the Living. Cuz you don't have to die each time you hope for changes. For the Dead it isn't possible anymore to expect and hope for fucking changes. *whispers quietly* No more, no more...
-- Lena Eclipse Oriña Reaper. Leo Reaper. 29/04/2023.
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I wanna talk about Janet Drake
I’m not against exaggeratedly evil versions of Tim’s parents, tbh. It’s fanfiction, if we can depict an Exaggeratedly Good version of Bruce (which we can, and I do, and I love) then we can depict the Drakes as Exaggeratedly Bad. As someone who personally identifies with Tim, and his brand of complicated parental abuse in particular, I find it cathartic to uncomplicate that abuse and rescue him from the Obviously Evil Bad People.
That said, since much of comics lore is passed down word of mouth, the oral tradition surrounding Tim has developed this idea of Janet as The Worse Parent between her and Jack that was never really present in the comics. We see much LESS of Janet, and we have 20 years worth of comics depicting Jack as a neglectful hotheaded idiot who ultimate does love his son. More importantly, Jack isn’t very much LIKE Tim, so there is a habit to attribute Tim’s traits to his mother... and, as someone who really really identifies with Tim, Tim has... some negative traits. Tim can be a bitch sometimes. He’s fiercely intelligent and sweet and kind, with a strong sense of justice, but he can be cold and judgmental and unthinking - he fights those traits, but he does have them.
And it is perfectly fine to depict Janet that way. I’ve enjoyed depictions of Cold Calculating Janet Drake, but it’s not the ONLY option, and I want to challenge fans to consider different avenues. Tim could pick up these traits from anywhere: a nanny, Mrs. Mc Ilvaine (”Mrs. Mac”), a teacher, tv, Sherlock Holmes novels, Bruce Wayne himself. Tim is capable of not being like EITHER parent.
So, what do we KNOW about Janet? (I’ll also touch on Jack, but only in scenes he appears with Janet.)
When Janet was first introduced she was depicted as a gentle but “modern” woman. This was written in 1989, told by a 13 year old Tim, so this theoretically was meant to take place in 1979. I’m not here to give a lecture on the history of sex discrimination in the united states, but much of the legislation protecting women in the workforce or surrounding women’s bodily autonomy would have been very very new in this initial depiction.
Here, Janet is shown to be encouraging, emotional, maternal, and projects her own feelings onto Tim. Jack is shown to be slightly sexist, possibly discouraging, but not overbearing. And the artist is shown not to know how to draw children.
To insert some speculation, I think it’s important to note all the Drakes witnessed a terrible murder/accident that day. I point this out, because this is the last time Jack and Janet are depicted this way. It’s possible they changed as a result of this event specifically.
However, this is also a story being told by Tim. It’s also possible these events aren’t really “real” at all, and Tim is misremembering what his parents were like as a three-year-old, possibly projecting a more palatable version of his parents into the narrative. This is entirely up to personal interpretation.
In fact, the Drakes are shown in Legend of the Dark Knight attending Haly’s Circus, and the artist knows what a toddler looks like and they’re depicted as already having a slightly strained relationship. Jack is clearly on the defensive, and Janet seems to be passive-aggressive, though she could just be attempting to explain the situation to her toddler honestly. The intended tone isn’t especially clear.
I do want to point out, in this depiction, Tim isn’t being carried like he was in the previous one. He’s walking ahead of his parents, which isn’t a terrible horrible crime, but could be dangerous in a crowded place like the circus. Might be a subtle hint to his parents overall neglect.
Back to A Lonely Place of Dying, in Tim’s memories of the night he discovered Robin and Dick Grayson were the same person at nine-years-old, his parents are home, and watching TV together while Tim played... trucks, idk, in the living room with them. (This is semi-interesting, because you could say “oh, Tim liked vehicle toys as a kid” or you could extrapolate that this is another subtle indication of Jack’s sexism, providing Tim with appropriately “boy toys.” Either interpretation is valid. If Tim was assigned female at birth, would they have been given “girl toys,” or allowed to play with whatever they wanted?)
This is, to my knowledge, the only panel of the Drakes when Tim is between ages 3 and 13. They’re all together, which might indicate that the Drakes were home more often when Tim was 9, only later going on business trips when Tim was “old enough” but...
This is Tim’s boarding school when he’s 13. While most boarding schools in the US are for grades 9-12, Tim is clearly not a freshman at age 13; look how much younger the other kids in this panel are. In the US, the youngest you can attend most boarding schools is 7.
That means Tim could have begun going to boarding school anytime between 7 and 13. He most likely spent all of middle school in boarding school, at least. There are an almost infinite number of possible ways the Drakes handled having a business that required lots of international travel, an archeology hobby, AND a very young child. Janet staying home until Tim was 7, 11, 13, is equally possible as the Drakes having a nanny until 7, 11, 13. Tim just doesn’t talk about that period of his life very much.
(”What about Mrs. Mac?” - it is unclear when Mrs. Mac begins working for the Drakes. We only see her when Jack comes out of his coma. She could either be a long standing staff member, or a recent hire.)
Note: I’ve seen it said that it’s canon that “According to Tim, when his parents were home, they made a point to try and include him in their activities, bringing him along to events that were normally adults only.” I have never seen this panel, or I don’t remember it, so I cannot confirm, but I also cannot debunk this because... comics.
By the time Tim is 13, Jack and Janet are away on business trips a lot, with limited communication, and no firm return date. If I’m feeling generous, I’d say it was harder to communicate internationally in 1990 than it is today. If I’m not feeling generous, I’d say the Drakes are extremely wealthy, and international communication was easier than ever before in the 80s and 90s. They’re not even going home to see Tim in a week or two, they’re going home and calling Tim at boarding school in a week or two.
Even Bruce thinks its weird, though he doesn’t say so to Tim’s face. It’s written almost as if Tim’s parents’ neglect was meant to be a plot point that just got forgotten about.
Tim’s parents are fighting at this point (their poor assistant), but Janet still goes with Jack on these business trips. And she’s clearly involved in the business, somehow, but the comics never SAY what Janet’s JOB is. We’re told Jack is the exec, but Janet is ONLY ever referred to as Jack’s wife, though they’re later described as the “heads” of the company, plural.
Just to be clear, this is Jack’s business. There’s a perception that Jack is a bad business man because he and Janet fight over company decisions, and Jack looses the business after Janet dies, but Jack looses the company YEARS after Janet dies, and maintains it for about a year after No Man’s Land at that. We’re not told how Jack looses the business, but he’s got to be doing something right. Janet isn’t necessarily the “real brains” of Drake Industries.
And I’m not... gonna... touch the... exploitation and racism because... I’m not qualified to do that. But, here’s the panel. The Drakes sure seem exploitative and racist in their business decisions. Someone else can... analyze that with more nuance.
Regardless how how long they’ve been fighting, when their lives are in danger, the Drakes fall back into a loving husband and wife. Their marriage may be falling apart, but they do care about each other.
I want to show these panels because it shows that Tim and Jack do have things in common. They’re both level headed in a crisis and can be somewhat cold in their practicality. Janet meanwhile and silent. Jack is later willing rant and rave at their captors, but Janet remains silent.
That is, until they’re alone, and she finally lets herself fall apart.
God, Jack can be obnoxious. Janet just looks miserable and resigned. I actually think Tim takes after his parents in this respect in equal measure. Tim can have a temper, but he can also be fairly melancholy and defeatist.
Jack keeps reminding Janet to be strong and in control, which could be period typical sexism? But Jack seems so practiced and ready with the words of encouragement, and with Tim’s history with depression, I wonder if Janet has an inclination towards it as well.
As the end approaches, when Jack brings up Tim, Janet seems to have a lot of regret. She talks about “wasting” the good things, and I don’t think it’s too big of a stretch to assume she’s talking about time spent with her only child.
From this point on, Janet is at times spoken of, but not seen. Like here, when Jack says Janet wouldn’t approve of him and Tim being so “far apart.” He says this after he tells him he takes back his threat to send him back to boarding school, which might imply Janet was against the idea of boarding school? Though she obviously lost that argument when she was alive.
Jack will of course renege on this later, but that’s Jack Drake for you.
Or here in Tim’s illness induced dream, where he gets everything he wants. Though, since this is a fantasy of Tim’s, where his father and girlfriend are both more accepting and understanding than they are in real life, I would take this depiction of Janet with a grain of salt.
After loosing Drake Industries, Jack thinks about Janet (though, they call her Catherine/Cathy for some fucking reason) during his depressive episode. And... uh...
Hallucinates a Valkyrie???? Is this symbolic of suicidal thoughts, or is she... real? Or is he seriously hallucinating?
Anyway, we’re not here to discuss Jack’s mental state, the fact that he forgot Tim’s birthday, or that concerning “I was going to knock some sense into you but you’re still bigger than me” statement from Tim, we’re here to talk about Janet. And even though this entire arc is about Jack mourning his first wife, they don’t SAY anything about Janet herself at all. I mean, they don’t even get her name right, so I guess what was I expecting.
Then there’s Origins and Omens, which also doesn’t say anything about Janet, except that Tim’s memory of her is faulty - Janet was poisoned, her assistant Jeremy’s throat was slit on television, but Tim seems to have conflated the death he did see with the death he didn’t.
The only piece of canon to suggest that Janet might be cold, is Tim compares her to Thalia. And even then, he’s really just saying Janet was protective of him. It’s kind of a scary look to make at your kid, but Bruce does the same thing, so.
I do want to say... it’s not 100% clear if Tim is even talking about Janet. He could be talking about Dana. Dana was observably protective of Tim, though I don’t think he’s ever called her mom. He PROBABLY means Janet.
And finally we have Tim visiting his mother’s grave (in a duel Christian/Jewish cemetery, make of that what you will), where Tim says she was “a little religious.”
And that’s it! That is all we know about Janet Drake in New Earth. Hardly the Mom From Hell, but she isn’t perfect. I’d be interested in seeing some alternate depictions of her within the fandom.
I’m still gonna eat up Terrible Parents From Hell like a starving puppy dog, though. Just some food for creative thought.
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Before I Leave You (Pt.2)
(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)
*SNEAK PEAK*
Summary: On the worst days, Yoongi is judge, jury, and executioner. But he judges you and finds you worthy of protecting (and loving too).
Tags: Dead bodies, blood, murder/crime themes, guilt, childhood trauma, drugs (cocaine, heroine), domestic abuse, emotional abuse, physical abuse, controlling behavior, implications of omega mistreatment/discrimination, anorexia, blood, graphic depictions of violence, manipulation, talking behind someone's back, morally gray Yoongi,
W/c: 14.5k
A/N: Honestly this took me way too long to write and edit. I can’t tell if this is my favorite depiction i’ve ever written of falling in love or if I hate it. But yeah- i didn’t want to sit on it for much longer. This part takes place chronologically before the last part, and documents what happened while yoongi was away from the rest of his pack.
Previous part — Masterlist
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CHAPTER 2: THE DON
“She’s just an omega- you know how they are- they need a firm hand to keep them in their place.” Yoongi scoffs thinking of his omegas. Anyone who even dared to think that Seokjin and Jungkook did not wear the pants in their pack had another thing coming to them.
He watches his older brother cut another line of cocaine.
The amount of drugs in this Geumjae’s study cost enough to feed a small family for a year. But Yoongi knows better than to partake. He pretends to take a Bump and taps it off when Geumjae tips back a shot."Omegas aren't even fucking worth it if you ask me, brother, you're supposed to give half of yourself away, and for fucking what? A glorified bed warmer?"
Yoongi boils and stays silent, letting Geumjae get himself wasted on drugs and alcohol. He can't tell what distresses him more Geumjae has such little regard for life that he can't recognize that omegas are fucking people- or that he's so freely sharing this with him.
He knows he’s toeing the line. More pushing might hurt you more, if he provoked aggression from his brother- it would no doubt come back to bite you. Yoongi can’t imagine wanting to hurt someone he loves or speaking with the same callousness that Geumjae speaks. “Don’t you love her?”
Geumjae laughs at Yoongi’s childish question “Oh little brother, don’t you know that love makes you stupid?”
His brother has it all wrong but Yoongi’s powerless to say it. Those threats from the funeral linger. And it's not only your life and Yoongi’s at stake here but the rest of his pack. He has to fool Geumjae into thinking he is on his side.
“Work with me here- what will the other omegas in the pack think of you if they find out what kind of shit you pull? And they’ll take their concerns straight to their alphas and say you’re unfit to lead. You know I have to listen to the bulk of them regardless of what you want.”
If he can’t appeal to Geumjae’s humanity- he can appeal to Geumjae’s better interest and common sense. His image in the family is arguably the most important thing in geumjae’s mind, and Yoongi can tell by the way that Geumjae stiffens when he says the words that it’s stuck.
Geumjae might have been trained in torture, but Yoongi was trained in manipulation. And he take the bait- hook, line, and sinker.
After that, he has the good sense to act softer with you in front of the rest of the family at the very least. But he fears he might have done more bad than good when he sees the way you stiffen and fail to meet his eyes more consistently as the days go on. You’re sensitive about eye contact, Yoongi gets it. you don’t have as much control over your facial expression as the rest of these robotic mobsters.
Group dinners are routine, and while Yoongi could find an excuse to see you during the day, he’s also often pulled in 50 different directions by the expectations of his family.
He finds himself reading for dinner in a hurry most nights, eager or maybe a little panicked to check in with you. You never request his presence, you never text (though he made sure you have his number just in case), and the family dinners are tense between the two of you.
You maintain none of the easy friendship you’d started that day in the rain or that closeness. You avoid him like the plague at dinner, and It’s like that day in the rain never happened.
Geumjae sticks to your side like glue too. A hand that probably looks protective to anyone else but looks possessive to Yoongi slung around your waist. Yoongi sees the harshness and pain in your body when Geumjae’s hand tightens digging into the swell of your hip. You’re soft in the way that most omegas are a little soft- and it’s as expected as it is distracting.
He manages to corner you during one of the dinners. you're not alone- and you can hear the grannies and omegas prattling to each other in the kitchen. the alphas are outside enjoying a cigar and investigating one of the new rolls royces that one of yoongi’s uncles recently purchased.
The corset portion of your dress making your chest soft looking, plump and inviting if yoongi was the kind of man to get distracted by something like that. As it is- all he notices is how it’s making your chest heave. Breath uneven, he thinks he can hear the boning in the dress creek. It’s a designer thing, but it looks way too tight on you. he can tell how uncomfortable you are.
“Are you okay?” he asks, though it's clear you’re not, you dont reply, looking down and away worried. Hand hovering over your stomach, “I won’t get mad whatever it is.”
You bite your lower lip. hand catching yourself on a side table before you teater over, dizzy. Yoongi grabs you before you fall. “He did my corset too tight, it’s hurting my ribs. I feel like im going to pass out.” Yoongi quickly looks around, but there is no one around in the part of the house right now, the garden is a backdrop, speckled with lights. you’re alone.
Yoongi turns you around quickly, setting his champagne to the side and grabbing yours out of your hand. He undoes the top knot of the dress and you inhale gratefully as he tugs at the strings looser, fingers touching your bare skin. “Is that better?” he has to be quick. This isn’t exactly scandalous- but- its not quite proper.
You inhale deep and grateful. “So much better, thank you.” you barely have a second to both straighten up, Yoongi's fingers pulling the bow back together. grabbing your champagne and sipping at it a careful distance away from Yoongi. looking for all intents and purposes like you’ve been swathed in uncomfortable silence the entire time they were gone. The picture of propriety as Geumjae and a few other alphas return in a puff of rich smoke.
“Don’t mention it.” Yoongi says it softly so that only you can hear it.
More than once. Geumjae catches him staring at you during the dinner. you look so much more comfortable now that it’s been loosened. Your hand hovering in front of your dress to conceal your cleavage under the guise of fiddling with your necklace. During those moments, Geumjae rewards Yoongi’s wandering gaze with bold touches. A hand sliding from waist to hip and your sudden straightening in pain.
Geumjae’s harsh fingers digging into a bad bruise on your hip. you’re so trained, you barely flinch when he does it. And still- Yoongi’s hands tighten in his slacks. Gritting his teeth and biting the inside of his cheek to stop himself from making a scene and reaching across the table to stop Geumjae from hurting you.
Many of the other members of the family notice Geumjae’s sudden dogmatic approach to your presence in his life. Confirming what Yoongi suspects. That he’d never given you too much attention at these family meals before Yoongi came with his wandering eyes. He should do better be better not to put you in harm's way.
Yoongi keeps his eyes firmly trained on his plate full of spiced soft-shelled crab as one of the grannies comments on how sweet the two of you seem. Yoongi wants to gag. “You know how new love is. I feel like we’ll be in the honeymoon phase forever. I want her all to myself so bad I think she’s worried I’ll chain her to my bed” he says- feigning drunkenness. You laugh too- trying to play it off but Yoongi can see your barely concealed fear.
Staying silent and letting your husband hurt you is the hardest thing that yoongi’s ever had to do. But there are many more battles, fights and skirmishes to win in this war. Yoongi has to be patient.
He’s a poised snake, ready to strike at the perfect moment.
COMING WEDNESDAY APRIL 21 @ 6PM EST
#bts fanfic#bts mafia au#bts omegaverse au#bts polyamory au#bts x reader#bts poly au#bts werewolf fic#bts fluff#bts angst#bts hurt/comfort#min yoongi fic#min yoongi x reader#yoongi x reader#min yoongi#omega! reader#bts a/b/o au
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I loved what you wrote about student! college! aizawa,if it's not too much trouble,I would like to read a second part but it contains a sub!aizawa,dom!reader,mommy kink and pegging please. I have to take advantage of the fact that you are the first blog with dark content that I see that accepts pegging,an opportunity that I will not miss,but if it gets complicated for you oh you don't like it,you can reject my request.
DISCLAIMER: always ask for consent first!
warnings: DUBCON, sub!aizawa, edging, verbal abuse, bondage, pegging, gn!reader but light mommy kink is used in reference to, praise kink if you squint?, slightly unrealistic depictions of pegging, reader is fed up but that doesnt excuse their actions :P
word count: 3489
notes: sorry for the delay, i hope u like anon! :D there should always be more pegging fic out there
part 1 here
EXAM SEASON
Finals season is quickly approaching, sending the entire campus into a frenzy, students scrambling like displaced ants trying to finish last minute assignments, novel-esque essays, merciful extra credit projects. The workload takes its toll on everyone, even the star students. You found Aizawa in even worse moods more frequently; a schedule consisting of all nighters spent studying old material followed by early classes and a job on the side, he was absolutely exhausted. You sometimes sneak a peek over at him during class to see his head bobbing slightly, bloodshot eyes struggling to stay open as he fights sleep. A small part of you feels bad for him; he’s a diligent student, and you were sympathetic to his exhaustion.
You still hate the asshole, though.
You found yourself snagged in a twisted sort of arrangement with Aizawa after midterms. There was always a half-assed attempt at tutoring you before giving up and cramming his cock down your throat or deep inside your cunt, leaving you sore and dripping with his cum, all the while spewing insults targeted at your intelligence (or lack thereof). In exchange, he’d complete your assignments and allow you to copy his answers on exam days. Ignoring the situation is where you make peace with yourself; you feel used, but you also have no other option if you want to pass this class.
What you hate the most is the way you roll over and take it. You’re more than just a hole to fuck, you know that, but you’re helpless against his searing abuse and venomous scowls. Even when you try to be nice, it only makes him crueler, your soft pleas and offers of peace an invitation to tear you down and make you cry. You want to fight, to claw and tear into him out of spite. You don’t want to feel so weak anymore.
So, you decide to do something about it.
It’s late, campus illuminated by street lamps and headlights of cars passing by as you make your way into the dorms. After your first encounter, Aizawa began inviting you back to his room instead of the library, deciding to “study” in his personal space as opposed to possibly getting caught in the library with his cock down your throat. You didn’t complain, but it’s especially convenient today, with what you have planned. Knocking on the door softly, you worry your bottom lip between your teeth, anxious for what’s to come.
“Open,” he calls out from inside, prompting you to enter. You pass through the messy common room he shares with his roommate and enter his bedroom, opening the door quietly. Aizawa’s room is tidy compared to the outside, bed made, tousled only where he sits with his laptop, typing.
“You’re late,” he squints at you from behind the screen, shutting the device. “Not surprising.”
“Sorry,” you mutter, placing your book bag on the floor and taking out the very heavy law textbook (that you hadn’t bothered to open since midterms). You take your seat next to him and open to the most recent chapter you read over. He’s silent, only speaking to answer your questions as you focus on the text. You can tell he’s sleepy, his responses slurred and delayed, and you glance over to see him dozing off. Late study sessions and Aizawa’s recent exhaustion meant more often than not that he fell asleep before tormenting you. The first time was startling, but you learned that it was a regular occurrence.
You prefer Aizawa when he’s drowsy. His usually hard features were softened, quiet snores rumbling from his chest. His dark hair messily framing his face as he leans back against the headboard of his bed, arms folded over his chest. He’s good-looking, no doubt. If his personality matched, you could see yourself falling for him.
His eyes open, shooting you a questioning look, and you duck your head back into your textbook, embarrassed at being caught staring.
You keep quiet for another 20 or so minutes, waiting until he’s truthfully asleep and not just resting. You have to be careful not to wake him, as you aren’t keen on being reprimanded for what you're about to do.
Once you’ve deemed it safe, you stealthily open your bag and retrieve the small plastic bag stored inside. With the help of online shopping, you bought some handcuffs, lube, a dildo, and a harness. You aren’t all into pegging, but this was less about the sex and more about proving yourself, forcing him to respect you, in some perverse way. You retrieve the cuffs, gripping them carefully as to not make any sounds. This is the most crucial part; as long as you could get him restrained, you’d could dish out any revenge you desire. You slip off of the bed and tip-toe, almost comically, around the other side of the bed. You test the waters, snapping your fingers near Aizawa. He doesn’t stir, chest rising and falling with his deep breathing.
You steel yourself with a deep breath; this was your chance. You make quick work with the handcuffs, gently yet hastily clicking the metal around one wrist and looping the cuffs through the headboard before securing his other wrist. A grin spreads across your face; you’re thankful he’s such a deep sleeper.
Now that you had him where you wanted him, you were paralyzed by the sheer amount of possibilities. You climb over him apprehensively, hovering over the unconscious man, who only shifts minutely. The peaceful look on his face puts a small pit in your stomach; this was wrong… right? Technically, this was assault. You frown, a small chill running down your spine. Is this what you had become? It was almost enough to convince you to stop, but you force yourself to remember the first time Aizawa had his way with you, the way you choked and gagged and had to hide your face until you could find a bathroom to wipe off the dried cum that adhered to your skin.
This was his fault; he made you like this.
“Fuck it,” you say aloud, bracing yourself before grabbing a handful of his hair and yanking, hard. He awakes with a surprised gasp, wrenching his head away from the assault.
“The fuck?” He bites, eyes drowsily scouring the situation. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Just waking you up,” you smile, releasing your grip. “It’s kind of boring watching you sleep. I thought we were supposed to be studying.”
Aizawa gives you an agitated look, disoriented as he tries to move, only to find his range of motion limited. “You fucking handcuffed me?”
“Yeah, I can’t believe you didn’t wake up,” you chuckle, sliding your hands under his shirt and running your hands over his taut stomach. He keeps his eyes on you with an expectant expression, waiting for an explanation.
“You know, I like you so much more when you're asleep,” you continue, idly tracing patterns on the skin of his abdomen. “No insults, no curses, no glaring. You’re pretty handsome when you’re not being a total douchebag.”
“Let me go,” he ignores you, yanking the handcuffs. “This isn’t funny.”
“I think it’s pretty funny, actually. You’ve spent all semester treating me like shit, and for what? All I’ve done is be nice to you, even after you call me names and abuse me. It hurts my feelings, you know? It’s not like I’m trying to fail this class, I just needed a little extra help, and you take advantage of that every week. So I do think this is pretty fucking hilarious. Maybe you’ll see just how great I feel when you bully me.”
If looks could kill, your heart would have stopped right then and there. Rage burns behind his glare when he meets your eyes, still struggling to break the cuffs. You’d never seen him like this; at his worst, he seems moderately annoyed in your day to day. Despite being an insufferable asshole, he always manages to keep a cool air about him. Never giving anyone much of a reaction, he’s only nasty when he desires. Watching his face take a red tint and his eyes narrow in frustration send waves of satisfaction rippling through your chest.
“You don’t know what you’re doing,” he grits out, “If you let me go now, I’ll forget all about this. I promise that you don’t want what’s coming for you once I get out of these cuffs.”
He did have a point; you had no idea what you were doing. That wasn’t going to stop you, though.
“Aw, it’s not so fun now, isn’t it?” You coo at him in a demeaning tone, pouting dramatically. Your wandering hands slid to his crotch, where you could feel his length stirring curiously. You bark out a laugh.
Pulling down his sweats and boxers, your mouth waters at his hardening length. Normally, your stomach would drop at the sight in anticipation for physical abuse you were about to receive. But this? This was different; knowing that you’re the one in control is absolutely captivating. You take his cock in your hands, slowly working your hand up and down. He stays silent in defiance, steady in his glare in an attempt to intimidate you. It would work, usually, but with his hands bound there was nothing he could do to you. He’s betrayed by a pleased noise that slips from his throat.
“Don’t tell me you like this? You want to be taken advantage of, is that it?” you taunt, basking in his agitation as you speed your hand up, thumbing the pre gathering on the slit.
“Watch it,” is his only response, voice dangerously low. He keeps quiet, not willing to surrender to the reactions you’re trying to draw from him. It’s a challenge, if anything, and you weren’t going to back down..
He’s fully erect in no time- you’ve spent enough time as his cocksleeve to know exactly what he likes and responds to. His eyes fall shut as you squeeze tighter, hips canting up into your hand, chasing his own release. You keep it up until he gets a little louder, close to release, and you pull your hand away, watching his dick twitch helplessly.
“Fuck- why’d you stop?” he asks groggily, opening his eyes.
“You didn’t think that I was just going to let you cum that easily, did you? I thought you were supposed to be the smart one,” you shuffle off of the bed, smiling over your shoulder as you hook your thumbs in the band of your leggings. You make a show of sliding the material down over your ass, purposefully leaning over and arching your back. You hear a pleased growl from the bed, causing you to giggle as you pull your underwear down as well.
“You could still let me go,” he offers, giving you a once over as you climb back over him, “I could forget about this if you let me fuck you.”
“Nice try, but I’ll be the one doing the fucking tonight,” you grab your bag from the floor, retrieving the lube but leaving the dildo and harness obscured in the bag. You squeeze a generous amount onto your fingers, causing Aizawa to give you a puzzled look.
“You don’t need lube, you’re always so wet for me,” it’s more of a question than an observation, since your previous trysts never included anything but his spit and your own juices. You just give him a smile before nudging his thighs open with your own, trailing your hand slowly beneath his balls, settling in between his ass and your lubed fingers circle the muscle there. The look on his face is priceless, absolutely shocked at the prospect of you inside of him. He thrashes in protest but you’re steadfast, pinning his hips down with your other hand.
“You can’t be serious,” his voice is alarmed, almost erring on the side of anxious, “you’re dumber than I thought if you think you’re just going to get away with any of this shit.”
“And what are you gonna do about it?” you sing-song, using your dry hand to tug playfully on the cuffs, “You’re a little tied up at the moment.”
“I’m going to beat your cunt up when I get out of these,” it’s a threat, and you ignore the way your stomach flutters at the words, eyes trained on his as you push two fingers inside.
He grunts, his face scrunching up, almost cutely, at the burn of the stretch. You expected him to be tight, but given how tense he is, it’s difficult to push all the way inside. You take it slow, savoring the pained expression on his face; it’s a stark contrast to his cocky demeanor when you’re being subjugated to his abuse. His chest is heaving, a lovely red flush spreading across his skin, eyebrows knit tight, lips bitten red- you’re obsessed. You move your fingers in and out slowly, scissoring just gently enough not to seriously hurt him, but enough to watch him writhe. His dick twitches despite (or maybe due to?) the pain, still red and dripping.
“This is priceless,” you laugh, “if you wanted to get fucked so badly, all you had to do was ask, you know? Mommy would’ve taken care of it for you.”
“Mommy?” he scoffs, rolling his eyes, “you’re insane.”
Any further insult is cut off with a sharp gasp, eyes shooting open in shock, and you know you’ve found it.
You stroke his prostate with a heavy hand, grinding your fingers into the spongy spot inside of him as he struggles to breathe, back arching deliciously. You can’t help but smirk; you kind of get it now. If this is how tormenting you makes Aizawa feel, then you understand why he was so cruel.
“Fuck,” he chokes on a whine that sends heat down your spine, . Your wrist is beginning to strain, but you can’t bring yourself to care. It’s cute; he’s writhing, his hips seeking the stimulation he was previously avoiding as he moans openly, loudly. His cock is an angry purple, pre pooling on his stomach from where it’s leaking. He looks like he’s close, eyes beginning to roll back when you pull your fingers out, laughing as you ruin his orgasm for the second time.
“Please,” he’s breathless, a betrayed look on his face as his hips rock on nothing, desperate to cum.
“Begging already? We haven’t even gotten started yet!”
You reach over into the plastic bag, pulling out the dildo and harness. You can clearly see the fear on his face this time as he moves to sit up, the fog of pleasure clearing quickly.
“Wait,” panic sets in his voice yet again. If you were him, you would be scared too; the toy is thicker than the two fingers you used, something you chose purposefully. You stand and slip on the harness, ignoring his attempts to reason with you.
“What’s wrong? I thought I didn’t know what I was doing?” you ask innocently, forcing your hips between his legs and drizzling some lube on the toy, warming it up with your palm.
“That’s the fucking problem, you idiot, you don’t,” he seethes, pulling on the restraints again, “It won’t fit, and you’re not sending me to the hospital.”
“Exactly, I won’t send you to the hospital. Mommy’s gonna take good care of you,” you coo, settling between his legs.
“Just let me go,” it’s the first genuine plea you’ve heard from him, the sincerity pulling your attention to his eyes where you see a look you can’t quite place. He looks… afraid? Remorseful? It’s enough to give you pause, equal parts consideration and schadenfreude. You settle for leaning forward and placing an uncharacteristically saccharine kiss on his forehead, your humanity getting the best of you.
“All you have to do is relax, okay?” you whisper, resting the tip of the toy against his entrance. He shuts his eyes in anticipation, resigned to his fate, and you push in gently, watching his hole swallow the silicone. The way Aizawa contorts, back bowed to scoot away from the pressure of the toy is salacious, drawing a moan from deep within your chest. He can’t get far due to the restraints, and he lets out a soft sob at the stretch of the toy, face scrunched tight. You push slowly until you bottom out, your hips pressed firmly against his, grinding in small circles to alleviate your own ache. He exhales shakily, unaware that he was holding his breath.
“See, it’s not so bad right?” you soothe, rubbing your thumb against his hip soothingly. “You should be grateful; I’m so much nicer than you are.”
“Fuck you,” it comes out weaker than intended, his voice strained as he tries to adjust to the girth of the toy.
You pull out slowly, experimentally, watching his stomach clench from the sensation of silicone caressing his insides. His dick gives an interested twitch, despite his demeanor, and that’s the invitation you need to start moving. It’s a little awkward at first, but your enthusiasm combined with the size of the toy more than makes up for your inexperience. He’s breathless, still uncomfortable, but you can see his body slowly relax as he tries to make sense of the sensations coursing through his body.
“You like this, don’t you?” you dig, eyes transfixed on his face, “Is that why you're so mean to me? You strut around like an asshole, just to hide the fact that you’re just a little bitch?”
You focus on angling your hips, searching for his prostate again, and when you find it, you commit to fucking him. He’s loud, stray tears sliding down his face as his body struggles to comprehend both the pain of the stretch and pleasure of the abuse.
“Fuck, you’re cute like this,” you sigh, “you’re meant for this, aren’t you? Meant to get your ass bred by your Mommy? You’d be so much more tolerable if you were sweet like this all of the time.”
His dick jerks violently but he shakes his head with a weak ‘no’, too lost in the sensation to retort any further. You’re soaked by now, the pressure of the toy on your end combined with the power trip pushing you to the edge. It takes all of your self-control, but you suddenly stop, unwilling to let yourself finish so quickly; there’s still unfinished business here.
“Tell me I’m pretty,” it comes out before you can even really think about it, but the words hang heavily in the air.
“Huh?”
“You’re never nice to me, so if you want me to even consider letting you cum, you better start kissing up.”
He hesitates, but when you shift slightly and the blunt head of the toy rubs against his prostate, he changes his tune very quickly.
“Fuck- you’re cute, ‘s the reason why I’m mean to you. So cute when you’re about to cry-” you give him a particularly hard slap on his ass and he winces, muttering a quick apology.
“You’re pretty even when I’m not fucking you, too,” is all you get, but it’s the first genuine compliment you’ve gotten out of the asshole since you’ve met him, and your heart soars. He’s awful and mean and evil but the simple statement is enough for you.
“I’ll let you cum if you beg for it,” you grunt, rutting your hips enthusiastically. You’re close, but you refuse to finish first. He’s needy, thanks to being edged twice, and he’s unable to resist your promise.
“Please, fuck, please let me cum,” he whimpers, voice wet and eyes watery.
“Please what?”
“Mommy! Fuck, please mommy, just let me cum, it hurts, fuck, please,” he babbles, and it’s enough for you. You wrap your hand around his cock and stroke it firmly, hips speeding up as you chase your own release. It’s quick- he finishes almost embarrassingly fast, and the whorish wail that rips from his throat sends you right over the edge, your vision blurring at the corners as you stay trained on his face, obscene and submissive.
It’s quiet after you stop, both of you catching your breath. You pull out slowly, watching the way his hole flutters and you giggle, your body and ego fully satiated. You look back to his face; he looks more fucked out than you’ve ever seen him, almost like he’s about to fall back asleep.
“Can we call it a truce?” You break the silence, grinning as he cracks open an eye to give you a scalding look.
“Fuck. You.”
#the wait is OVER i hope u like anon!#a few people asked about a part two with dom!aizawa so i'll be sure to do a part three where he doms reader again#after i answer everything else in my ask box#idk how popular pegging is on the tumblr dot com so this one may not do numbers but its cool!#i'll never pass at the oppourtunity to shove my fingers up a boys ass im not gon hold u cheif#yandere x reader#yandere#yandere bhna#yandere mha#nsft#bnha x reader#bnha x you#bnha x y/n#bnha smut#bnha imagines#aizawa x reader#aizawa x you#aizawa shouta x you#yandere bnha#yandere aizawa#mha x reader#mha x you#mha x y/n#mha imagines#tw: dubcon#tw: pegging#TW: Dubious Consent#tw: verbal abuse#tw: mommy kink#akuma.fics
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A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes - Arya Stark and her Cinderella Motifs
In A Song of Ice and Fire, GRRM often uses fairy tale motifs to help tell a character’s story. Sometimes this motif spans all throughout the characters arc while other times it will only be used for one or two scenes, or anywhere in between. And often one character can have several fairy tale motifs at different times in their arcs or even running concurrently. For Arya, she has quite a few fairy tale motifs in her arc, but for now I’m going to focus on her Cinderella motifs that are mainly prevalent in A Clash of Kings but do show up at other times all throughout her arc as well. I’m going to focus primarily on Arya’s A Clash of Kings arc, but we will be stopping by A Storm of Swords and A Feast for Crows a few times too. And I am going to use several versions of the retellings of Cinderella, including the Disney version, but only the 1950 original and none of its sequels. I also want to note that not all the parallels are obvious due to things being more metaphorical or symbolic, while other times being whatever subversion that tickled GRRM’s fancy at the time.
There are many common aspects across the board when it comes to Cinderella retellings. Often it entails the heroine losing one or both of her parents, being oppressed by her abusive stepmother and stepsisters and being forced into menial, backbreaking labor that leaves the heroine dirty and often covered in ashes. It usually entails a magical guardian who helps the heroine, magical transformations, ballgowns and a ball where she falls in love with either a Prince or a King. An identifying item is also involved, usually a slipper made of gold or glass, where one of the pair is lost when the heroine is running from her beloved. And the Prince/King almost always searches the realm for the woman that identifying item belongs to, and when he finds the heroine they usually marry.
Written out like that it’s hard to believe that this is a motif used for Arya. After all she’s not in the position to be going to balls and she’s just a child so it seems unlikely at the time she’s at Harrenhal she’s going to fall in love. However, this motif appears all throughout her arc in various and creative and subversive and repetitive ways, and motifs don’t have to be all or none and they don’t have to be in the order the original stories were laid out. A lot of people also don’t like the idea that Arya has an actual Disney Princess motif in her story because she’s a “tomboy”, but the fact is that Arya is a Princess at the time she’s at Harrenhal, it’s even explicitly stated in Arya X ACOK, whether people acknowledge it or not, where a lot of these motifs take place. I know some people will be dismissive of this and think I’m reaching, but I hope upon reading this I’ll have convinced you of this motif being present. :)
Step-Mother and Step-Sisters
Some of the two most common features in any variant of Cinderella is the “Persecuted Heroine” and the “Female Persecutor”. Often this manifests as the wicked stepmother and the evil step-sisters, but in some versions a stepmother does not appear, and it’s the heroine’s older sisters who confine her to the kitchens instead. In the opera, La Cenerentola, Gioachino Rossini inverted the gender roles where the heroine Cenerentola is oppressed by her stepfather. And in some retellings at least one of the step siblings is somewhat kind to the heroine even. We symbolically see these archetypes many times in Arya’s narrative with various types of inversions.
When we enter ACOK, we find a dirty and disguised Arya traveling with Yoren and the Night’s Watch recruits, having just lost her father (a subversion of the prevalent theme of Cinderella losing her mother very young). She is also being bullied by two older boys, Lommy and Hot Pie:
At Winterfell they [Sansa and Jeyne] had called her “Arya Horseface” and she’d thought nothing could be worse, but that was before the orphan boy Lommy Greenhands had named her “Lumpyhead.” - Arya I ACOK
That wasn’t the hardest part at all; Lommy Greenhands and Hot Pie were the hardest part. - Arya I ACOK
“Look at that sword Lumpyhead’s got there,” Lommy said one morning […] “Where’s a gutter rat like Lumpyhead get him a sword?”
[. . .]
“Maybe he’s a little squire,” Hot Pie put in. […] “Some lordy lord’s little squire boy, that’s it.”
“He ain’t no squire, look at him. I bet that’s not even a real sword. I bet it’s just some play sword made of tin.”
Arya hated them making fun of Needle. “It’s castle-forged steel, you stupid,” she snapped, turning in the saddle to glare at them, “and you better shut your mouth.”
The orphan boys hooted. “Where’d you get a blade like that, Lumpyface?” Hot Pie wanted to know.
“Lumpyhead,” corrected Lommy. He prob’ly stole it.”
“I did not!” she shouted. Jon Snow had given her Needle. Maybe she had to let them call her Lumpyhead, but she wasn’t going to let them call Jon a thief.
“If he stole it, we could take it off him,” said Hot Pie. “It’s not his anyhow. I could use me a sword like that.”
Lommy egged him on. “Go on, take it off him, I dare you.”
Hot Pie kicked his donkey, riding closer. “Hey, Lumpyface, you gimme that sword.” […] “You don’t know how to use it.”
[. . .]
“Look at him,” brayed Lommy Greenhands. “I bet he’s going to cry now. You want to cry, Lumpyhead?” – Arya I ACOK
In the first two quotes we have Arya likening the behavior of Hot Pie and Lommy to that of Jeyne Poole and Sansa. In AGOT, Sansa and Jeyne took on the “evil step-sister” archetype (and before anybody attacks me, I don’t think these two are actually “evil”, just children who think it’s okay to bully someone who is different from them), but now we are shown that this archetype has temporarily shifted onto Lommy and Hot Pie, with some subversions. These two are now male and they aren’t related to Arya in any way. Some variants of the Cinderella story do portray male siblings mistreating the younger “Cinderella” sibling though. One of the stories in One Thousand and One Nights depict a story called “Judar and his Brethren”, in which the main character is poisoned by his biological brothers in the end, depicting a rare tragic ending for this retelling. However, these subversions are completely fine because either way, they took on the role of the “bully” to Arya’s Cinderella archetype currently in the narrative.
Furthermore, while Septa Mordane was the obvious “wicked stepmother” archetype to Arya’s Cinderella archetype in AGOT, I think arguably this has fallen to Cersei now (and the Lannister’s as a whole). Cersei may not be present, but she is the reason why Arya is in the situation she is in right now. After all, Cersei takes on the role of “Evil Queen” for Sansa and Jon (they both share Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs motifs) so I do think she is the metaphorical “wicked stepmother” in this equation regardless of the fact that Cersei isn’t anything remotely close to a stepmother to Arya in the narrative, but she fits the general archetype of “female persecutor” the most in the current situation. For the case about Septa Mordane being a “wicked stepmother” archetype, I want to point to Cenerentola by Basile, in which the “wicked stepmother” started out as being the heroine’s governess, and Septa’s are the closest substitute to a governess in the universe of ASOIAF.
This isn’t the end to these archetypes being in play. As the early chapters of ACOK go on we see the animosity between Lommy, Hot Pie, and Arya disappear to the point where they become allies and then friends. With this shift in dynamic we see the archetypes disappearing with some of these same characters taking on entirely new Cinderella archetypes, while the “wicked stepmother” and “evil step-sibling” archetypes move onto other characters as well.
At Harrenhal we are introduced to two wicked women who next take on the “evil step-sibling” archetype, Goodwife Harra and Goodwife Amabel. These two even comment on Arya’s feet:
When Arya's turn came round, Goodwife Amabel clucked in dismay at the sight of her feet, while Goodwife Harra felt the callus on her fingers that long hours of practice with Needle had earned her. "Got those churning butter, I'll wager," she said. "Some farmer's whelp, are you? Well, never you mind, girl, you have a chance to win a higher place in this world if you work hard. If you won't work hard, you'll be beaten. And what do they call you?"
Arya dared not say her true name, but Arry was no good either, it was a boy’s name and they could see she was no boy. “Weasel,” she said, naming the first girl she could think of. “Lommy called me Weasel.”
“I can see why,” sniffed Goodwife Amabel. “That hair is a fright and a nest for lice as well. We’ll have it off, and then you’re for the kitchens.”
“I’d sooner tend the horses.” Arya liked horses, and maybe if she was in the stables she’d be able to steal one and escape.
Goodwife Harra slapped her so hard that her swollen lip broke open all over again. “And keep that tongue to yourself or you’ll get worse. No one asked your views.”
The blood in her mouth had a salty metal tang to it. Arya dropped her gaze and said nothing. If I still had Needle, she wouldn’t dare hit me, she thought sullenly.
“Lord Tywin and his knights have grooms and squires to tend their horses, they don’t need the likes of you,” Goodwife Amabel said. “The kitchens are snug and clean, and there’s always a warm fire to sleep by and plenty to eat. You might have done well there, but I can see you’re not a clever girl. Harra, I believe we should give this one to Weese.”
“If you think so, Amabel.” They gave her a shift of grey roughspun wool and a pair of ill-fitting shoes and sent her off. – Arya VI ACOK
Later Goodwife Amabel even threatens to rape Arya:
Three Frey men-at-arms were using them that morning as Arya went to the well. She tried not to look, but she could hear the men laughing. The pail was very heavy once full. She was turning to bring it back to Kingspyre when Goodwife Amabel seized her arm. The water went sloshing over the side onto Amabel's legs. "You did that on purpose," the woman screeched.
"What do you want?" Arya squirmed in her grasp. Amabel had been half-crazed since they'd cut Harra's head off.
"See there?" Amabel pointed across the yard at Pia. "When this northman falls you'll be where she is."
"Let me go." She tried to wrench free, but Amabel only tightened her fingers.
"He will fall too, Harrenhal pulls them all down in the end. Lord Tywin's won now, he'll be marching back with all his power, and then it will be his turn to punish the disloyal. And don't think he won't know what you did!" The old woman laughed. "I may have a turn at you myself. Harra had an old broom, I'll save it for you. The handle's cracked and splintery—" - Arya X ACOK
Menial, Backbreaking Labor
When Arya is enslaved and forced into the oppressive walls of Harrenhal, she is forced to scrub floors and do other menial, backbreaking work from sunrise to sunset, just like Cinderella:
Weese used Arya to run messages, draw water, and fetch food, and sometimes to serve at table in the Barracks Hall above the armory, where the men-at-arms took their meals. But most of her work was cleaning. The ground floor of the Wailing Tower was given over to storerooms and granaries, and two floors above housed part of the garrison, but the upper stories had not been occupied for eighty years. Now Lord Tywin had commanded that they be made fit for habitation again. There were floors to be scrubbed, grime to be washed off windows, broken chairs and rotted beds to be carried off. The topmost story was infested with nests of the huge black bats that House Whent had used for its sigil, and there were rats in the cellars as well . . . and ghosts, some said, the spirits of Harren the Black and his sons. – Arya VII ACOK
She spent the rest of that day scrubbing steps inside the Wailing Tower. By evenfall her hands were raw and bleeding and her arms so sore they trembled when she lugged the pail back to the cellar. Too tired even for food, Arya begged Weese's pardons and crawled into her straw to sleep. – Arya VII ACOK
Magical Transformations and Mice
In Disney’s Cinderella, the fairy godmother transforms mice into different creatures. On the road to Harrenhal, Arya not only likens herself to a sheep, but a mouse and continues her time at Harrenhal referring to herself as a “mouse”. This is also a subversion, while Cinderella in the Disney incarnation befriends mice, in our story Arya becomes the meek mouse:
On the road Arya had felt like a sheep, but Harrenhal turned her into a mouse. She was grey as a mouse in her scratchy wool shift, and like a mouse she kept to the crannies and crevices and dark holes of the castle, scurrying out of the way of the mighty. – Arya VII ACOK
He does not know me, she thought. Arry was a fierce little boy with a sword, and I’m just a grey mouse girl with a pail. – Arya VII ACOK
She was very small and Harrenhal was very large, full of places where a mouse could hide. – Arya VII ACOK
Even Jaqen calls Arya a mouse:
She crept up quiet as a shadow, but he opened his eyes all the same. “She steals in on little mice feet, but a man hears,” he said. How could he hear me? She wondered, and it seemed as if he heard that as well. “The scuff of leather on stone sings loud as warhorns to a man with open ears. Clever girls go barefoot.” – Arya VIII ACOK
However, through Jaqen, Arya begins to feel more in control of her situation, stronger and is transformed, if only for a short time.
“…Some are saying it was Harren’s ghost flung him down.” He snorted to show what he thought of such notions.
It wasn’t Harren, Arya wanted to say, it was me. She has killed Chiswyck with a whisper, and she would kill two more before she was through. I’m the ghost in Harrenhal, she thought. And that night, there was one less name to hate. – Arya VII ACOK
I was a sheep, and then I was a mouse, I couldn’t do anything but hide. Arya chewed her lip and tried to think when her courage had come back. Jaqen made me brave again. He made me a ghost instead of a mouse. – Arya IX ACOK
Lucifer the Cat
In Disney’s Cinderella, Lucifer is Lady Tremaine’s cat who is described as being a sly, wicked, and manipulative mouse consumer. He spends the whole film trying to torment and catch the mice. I feel that Weese takes on aspects of this feline character, and I think this because of certain descriptors that are given to Weese to make him appear almost catlike:
“Weasel,” Weese purred, “next time I see that mouth droop open, I’ll pull out your tongue and feed it to my bitch.” – Arya VII ACOK
In his own small strutting way, Weese was nearly as scary as Ser Gregor. The Mountain swatted men like flies, but most of the time he did not even seem to know the fly was there. Weese always knew you were there, and what you were doing, and sometimes what you were thinking. He would hit at the slightest provocation, and he had a dog who was near as bad as he was, an ugly spotted bitch that smelled worse than any dog Arya had ever known. Once she saw him set the dog on a latrine boy who’d annoyed him. She tore a big chunk out of the boy’s calf while Weese laughed. – Arya VII ACOK
So here we have Weese purring, strutting, being compared to the Mountain who swats at peoples, and being watchful and observant, very much like a cat. And like in the movie, a dog attacks him. Now Weese didn’t fall from a tower window, but Chiswyck fell/was pushed. Considering these two are the two people Arya had Jaqen kill, I wouldn’t be surprised if they are meant to make up two halves of a whole in this regard. After all, they are both wicked creatures who prey upon the weak, just like Lucifer and they both got their just desserts for it.
Jaq the Mouse
In Disney’s Cinderella, Cinderella rescues mice from traps, as well as from Lucifer, and dresses and feeds them. They perform favors in return. At the beginning of the film, a mouse named Gus is trapped in a cage, and the leader of the mice finds him and retrieves Cinderella to free him. The leader of the mice is a mouse named Jaq, and he was also a mouse that was saved by Cinderella from a cage. This sounds awfully familiar…
Rushing through the barn doors was like running into a furnace. The air was swirling with smoke, the back wall a sheet of fire ground to roof. Their horses and donkeys were kicking and rearing and screaming. The poor animals, Arya thought. Then she saw the wagon, and the three men manacled to its bed. Biter was flinging himself against the chains, blood running down his arms from where the iron clasped his wrists. Rorge screamed curses, kicking at the wood. “Boy!” called Jaqen H’ghar. “Sweet boy!”
[. . .]
“Good boys, kind boys,” called Jaqen H’ghar, coughing.
“Get these fucking chains off!” Rorge screamed.
[. . .]
Going back into that barn was the hardest thing she ever did. Smoke was pouring out the open door like a writhing black snake, and she could hear the screams of the poor animals inside, donkeys and horses and men. She chewed her lip, and darted through the doors, crouched low where the smoke wasn’t quite so thick.
A donkey was caught in a ring of fire, shrieking in terror and pain. She could smell the stench of burning hair. The roof was gone up too, and things were falling down, pieces of flaming wood and bits of straw and hay. Arya put a hand over her mouth and nose. She couldn’t see the wagon for the smoke, but she could still hear Biter screaming. She crawled toward the sound.
And then a wheel was looming over her. The wagon jumped and moved a half foot when Biter threw himself against his chains again. Jaqen saw her, but it was too hard to breathe, let alone talk. She threw the axe into the wagon. Rorge caught it and lifted it over his head, rivers of sooty sweat pouring down his noseless face. Arya was running, coughing. She heard the steel crash through the old wood, and again, again. An instant later came a crack as loud as thunder, and the bottom of the wagon came ripping loose in an explosion of splinters. – Arya IV ACOK
So here we have Jaq who is leader of the mice, who also helps Cinderella by doing her favors. Then we have Jaqen H’ghar who is the leader of Rorge and Biter (this name seems even more fitting now) and who is performing favors for Arya, which leads me to Jaqen’s dual Cinderella archetype: Fairy Godmother.
Magical Helpers
Some versions of Magical Helpers come from fairy godmothers or talking animals or genies. In other versions this help comes to the heroine through her dead mother, often manifesting through animal aid. In One Thousand and One Nights, in the story of “Judar and his Brethren” Judar is our Cinderella figure, whose own brothers betray and poison him, but before that he was gifted a genie named Al-Ra’ad al-Kasif who granted Judar’s wishes. In the passage below Jaqen grants Arya three “wishes” which is typical for genies to grant in our popular consciousness:
She remembered that she hated him. “You scared me. You’re one of them now, I should have let you burn. What are you doing here? Go away or I’ll yell for Weese.”
“A man pays his debts. A man owes three.”
“Three?”
“The Red God has his due, sweet girl, and only death may pay for life. This girl took three that were his. This girl must give three in their places. Speak the names, and a man will do the rest.”
He wants to help me, Arya realized with a rush of hope that made her dizzy. “Take me to Riverrun, it’s not far, if we stole some horses we could—”
He laid a finger on her lips. “Three lives you shall have of me. No more, no less. Three and we are done. So a girl must ponder.” He kissed her hair softly. “But not too long.” – Arya VII ACOK
Later, we also see that “wishes” have consequences, which is also prevalent when genies are concerned. GRRM himself is a big fan of consequences and unintended side effects.
Jaqen is not Arya’s only form of Magical Help at Harrenhal however. Jaqen may take on the role of Fairy Godmother/Genie, but we also see Arya experiencing the help of not only an animal aid, but from a dead parent. For instance, the heroine in Aschenputtel, by the Brother’s Grimm, is given a hazel twig by her father that she plants over her mother’s grave. She waters it with tears and over the years it grows into a glowing hazel tree. The girl prays under it three times a day, chanting, and a bird emerges from it that grants her wishes. There are two instances of something similar happening in the books:
In the godswood she found her broomstick sword where she had left it, and carried it to the heart tree. There she knelt. Red leaves rustled. Red eyes peered inside her. The eyes of the gods. “Tell me what to do, you gods,” she prayed.
For a long moment there was no sound but the wind and the water and the creak of leaf and limb. And then, far far off, beyond the godswood and the haunted towers and the immense stone walls of Harrenhal, from somewhere out in the world, came the long lonely howl of a wolf. Gooseprickles rose on Arya’s skin, and for an instant she felt dizzy. Then, so faintly, it seemed as if she heard her father’s voice. “When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives,” he said.
“But there is no pack,” she whispered to the weirwood. Bran and Rickon were dead, the Lannisters had Sansa, Jon had gone to the Wall. “I’m not even me now, I’m Nan.”
“You are Arya of Winterfell, daughter of the north. You told me you could be strong. You have the wolf blood in you.”
“The wolf blood.” Arya remembered now. “I’ll be as strong as Robb. I said I would.” She took a deep breath, then lifted the broomstick in both hands and brought it down across her knee. It broke with a loud crack, and she threw the pieces aside. I am a direwolf, and done with wooden teeth. – Arya X ACOK
Here we see an inversion. Arya’s mother isn’t dead at this time, but her father, Ned is. He is who we hear through the heart tree giving Arya this empowering “Mufasa” moment that gives way to Arya’s true transformation in this arc, she reclaims her identity. And as soon as Arya asks the old gods for aid, a wolf howls in the distance as if in answer. It’s not confirmed but I do truly believe that this howl came from Nymeria, by way of the Old Gods/Greenseers, who somehow helped strengthen their bond. It is after this moment that Arya starts having full on wolf dreams in earnest and it’s through her first wolf dream that we see that Nymeria may have become Arya’s animal aid:
Her dreams were red and savage. The Mummers were in them, four at least, a pale Lyseni and a dark brutal axeman from Ib, the scarred Dothraki horse lord called Iggo and a Dornishman whose name she never knew. On and on they came, riding through the rain in rusting mail and wet leather, swords and axe clanking against their saddles. They thought they were hunting her, she knew with all the strange sharp certainty of dreams, but they were wrong. She was hunting them.
She was no little girl in the dream; she was a wolf, huge and powerful, and when she emerged from beneath the trees in front of them and bared her teeth in a low rumbling growl, she could small the rank stench of fear from horse and man alike. The Lyseni’s mount reared and screamed in terror, and the others shouted at one another in mantalk, but before they could act the other wolves came hurtling from the darkness and the rain, a great pack of them, gaunt and wet and silent.
The fight was short but bloody. The hairy man went down as he unslung his axe, the dark one died stringing an arrow, and the pale man from Lys tried to bolt. Her brothers and sisters ran him down, turning him again and again, coming at him from all sides, snapping at the legs of his horse and tearing the throat from the rider when he came crashing to the earth. – Arya I ASOS
We see here that Nymeria and her pack protected Arya, Gendry, and Hot Pie against their pursuers after their escape from Harrenhal.
Here is another instance of Arya praying under the heart tree:
Arya went to her knees. She wasn’t sure how she should begin. She clasped her hands together. Help me, you old gods, she prayed silently. Help me get those men out of the dungeon so we can kill Ser Amory, and bring me home to Winterfell. Make me a water dancer and a wolf and not afraid again, ever.
Was that enough? Maybe she should pray aloud if she wanted the old gods to hear. Maybe she should pray longer. Sometimes her father had prayed a long time, she remembered. But the old gods had never helped him. Remembering that made her angry. “You should have saved him,” she scolded the tree. “He prayed to you all the time. I don’t care if you help me or not. I don’t think you could even if you wanted to.”
“Gods are not mocked, girl.”
The voice startled her. She leapt to her feet and drew her wooden sword. Jaqen H’ghar stood so still in the darkness that he seemed one of the trees. “A man comes to hear a name. One and two and then comes three. A man would have done.”
Arya lowered the splintery point toward the ground. “How did you know I was here?”
“A man sees. A mean hears. A man knows.”
She regarded him suspiciously. Had the gods sent him? “How’d you make the dog kill Weese? Did you call Rorge and Biter up from hell? Is Jaqen H’ghar your true name?
“Some men have many names. Weasel. Arry. Arya.”
She backed away from him, until she was pressed against the heart tree. “Did Gendry tell?”
“A man knows,” he said again. “My lady of Stark.”
Maybe the gods had sent him in answer to her prayers. – Arya IX ACOK
In Cenerentola, the heroine’s (Zezolla) father is given a date seedling by a fairy and he gives it to his daughter. Zezolla cultivates the tree in which a fairy lives. This fairy gives Zezolla magical aid. When Arya prayed beneath the heart tree in the above quote it almost seems like Jaqen appeared from the trees, leaving Arya to question if the old gods sent him.
And like in Aschenputtel and Disney’s Cinderella, Arya spends time at Harrenhal singing/chanting to herself as well:
Barefoot surefoot lightfoot, she sang under her breath. I am the ghost in Harrenhal. – Arya IX ACOK
This is very strange for a couple of reasons. When we first meet Arya she claims not to like songs and doesn’t sing. She continues this up until she goes to Braavos. There she discovers that she likes the bawdy songs when she is using the name, Cat of the Canals. The only exception to this is when Arya is at Harrenhal. Another reason this is odd is because of where Arya is at physically and mentally. So either Arya was always lying about not liking songs, or Arya singing here is supposed to tell us something.
And while this might not mean anything, I found it interesting that Arya spends a lot of her time in ACOK barefoot. Now Cinderella isn’t really said to be barefoot in the stories, but she did usually lose a shoe when running away from the Prince/King, hence making her barefoot. When Arya decides to escape Harrenhal, she does don a pair of shoes again and from then on out she mostly wears them. This also leads to a fun bit of subversion. In the originals tales it’s always the Prince/King saving Cinderella from further oppression. But in Arya X ACOK, not only did she (a princess) plan the escape, but she saves Gendry, a lost (albeit bastard) prince, along with Hot Pie, from further oppression (and torture and death) by their slavers in their prison camp. (Hot Pie definitely reminds me of Gus Gus as well by the way :D)
From Rags to Riches
In many versions of Cinderella, we also see the heroine become physically transformed. The heroine is usually dirty, covered in ashes, and wearing “rags” before they are made over. In the most popular version, Disney’s Cinderella, the Fairy Godmother magically turns her from dirty household servant to highborn lady, adorning her in a silver ballgown and glass slippers. In Ye Xian, magical fish bones, help the heroine dress appropriately for a local Festival, including a light, golden shoe. And in Aschenputtel, the doves that emerge from her hazel tree, that grant the heroine wishes, drop a gold and silver gown and silk shoes down to her to wear to the ball. Also, noticeably, this is the time the Prince/King notices Cinderella and finally “sees” her.
While we didn’t get anything like that in ACOK, we don’t have to look much farther than ASOS, when Arya goes to Acorn Hall and meets Lady Smallwood, who puts her in two different dresses:
And afterward, they insisted she dress herself in girl’s things, brown woolen stockings and a light linen shift, and over that a light green gown with acorns embroidered all over the bodice in brown thread, and more acorns bordering the hem. – Arya IV ASOS
It was even worse than before; Lady Smallwood insisted that Arya take another bath, and cut and comb her hair besides; the dress she put her in this time was sort of lilac-colored, and decorated with little baby pearls. The only good thing about it was that it was so delicate that no one could expect her to ride in it. – Arya IV ASOS
And while there is no ball, Arya and Gendry spend their time in the forge together. This is the very first time Gendry has seen Arya look like a proper lady. Cinderella and Arya are no longer dirty and in rags and they are now in gowns looking their place in society, despite Arya’s dress not being nearly as grand. However, it’s enough of a change for Gendry to finally realize just who Arya truly is when it comes to her place in the world. And judging by his behavior after this event, he also begins to acknowledge that if he continues to stay by her side he could potentially love her romantically in the future as well:
Gendry reached out with the tongs as if to pinch her face, but Arya swatted them away.
[. . .]
Gendry put the hammer down and looked at her. “You look different now. Like a proper little girl.”
“I look like an oak tree, with all these stupid acorns.”
“Nice, though. A nice oak tree.” He stepped closer, and sniffed at her. “You even smell nice for a change.” – Arya IV ASOS
Runaway Princess
Now we may not have had a ball, but while taking shelter in a stone stable with the Brotherhood Without Banners, Arya does run outside, trying to get away from everyone:
His words beat at her ears like the pounding of a drum, and suddenly it was more than Arya could stand. She wanted Riverrun, not Acorn Hall; she wanted her mother and her brother Robb, not Lady Smallwood or some uncle she never knew. Whirling, she broke for the door, and when Harwin tried to grab her arm she spun away from him quick as a snake.
Outside the stables the rain was still falling, and distant lightning flashed in the west. Arya ran as fast as she could. She did not know where she was going, only that she wanted to be alone, away from all the voices, away from their hollow words and broken promises. All I wanted was to go to Riverrun. It was her own fault, for taking Gendry and Hot Pie with her when she left Harrenhal. She would have been better alone. If she had been alone, the outlaws would never have caught her, and she’d be with Robb and her mother by now. They were never my pack. If they had been, they wouldn’t leave me. She splashed through a puddle of muddy water. Someone was shouting her name, Harwin probably, or Gendry, but the thunder drowned them out as it rolled across the hills half a heartbeat behind the lightning. The lightning lord, she thought angrily. Maybe he couldn’t die, but he could lie. – Arya VIII ASOS
Now it’s not explicitly clear that it was Gendry who ran after Arya, calling her name, but due to the possible symbolism in the scene, and also his behavior in AFFC, it makes me think it was him. But whether he was or not I believe just Arya believing it might be him makes this applicable enough as a loose parallel for the Prince chasing after Cinderella, only for Cinderella to disappear like in many of the Cinderella retellings.
Searching the Realm
At the end of ASOS in the epilogue we learn that Lady Stoneheart and the Brotherhood Without Banners, who Gendry is a part of is actively searching for Arya:
The outlaw gave him (Merrett Frey) an encouraging smile. “Well, as it happens, we’re looking for a dog that ran away.”
“A dog?” Merrett was lost. “What kind of dog?”
“He answers to the name Sandor Clegane […] Did you see him at the wedding, perchance?”
[. . .]
“He would have had a child with him,” said the singer. “A skinny girl, about ten. Or perhaps a boy the same age.”
“I don’t think so,” said Merrett. “Not that I knew.” – Epilogue ASOS
In many retellings of the Cinderella story, the Prince/King searches the realm looking for the heroine with an identifying item, and typically that item is a shoe of some sort. Once the shoe is placed on the heroine’s foot it symbolically means the heroine is reclaiming her identity. Arya, however, didn’t lose a shoe, and I’d argue that when Ned/the Old Gods/the Greenseers spoke to Arya through the heart tree, empowering Arya, that’s when Arya reclaimed her identity, at least for that time as Arya must reclaim her identity multiple times in her arc. I’d argue that Arya’s connection to the North and her family is her overall identifying item. But I fully believe Gendry himself might be another “identifying item,” along with him still taking on the archetypal role of “prince”.
Why do I say this? Because in AFFC Gendry is stationed at one of the last known places Arya was sighted at with the Hound, the Crossroads Inn, where he is blacksmithing while also helping to look after orphans. He was likely stationed there by Lady Stoneheart and the Brotherhood Without Banners because he knew Arya the best out of everyone (remember LSH would probably have a hard time recognizing Arya after two plus years and a resurrection). So if she returned, he would not only have a better chance at recognizing her, but also possibly a better chance at keeping her there compared to anyone else. If people are doubting that this is Gendry’s role, just remember that the BWB is actively looking for Arya, and also note Gendry’s personality shift post-ASOS. Gendry has always been rude and moody, but in AFFC it has been taken to the extreme. He is absolutely furious and instead of being just plain rude, he’s actually become mean and more violent. He also seems to have something against the Hound now, someone who he previously had nothing against during the Hound’s trial by combat earlier in ASOS:
…The boy came and stood beside her, his hammer in his hand.
Lightning cracked to the south as the riders swung down off their horses. For half a heartbeat darkness turned to day. An axe gleamed silvery blue, light shimmered off mail and plate, and beneath the dark hood of the lead rider Brienne glimpsed an iron snout and rows of steel teeth, snarling.
Gendry saw it too. “Him.”
“Not him. His helm.” Brienne tried to keep the fear from her voice, but her mouth was dry as dust. – Brienne VII AFFC
That “him” was very pointed and because of the symbolism in the scene surrounding that “him” and the overall change in Gendry’s behavior I definitely take it to mean Gendry does have a problem with the Hound now. So what changed? The Hound kidnapped Arya. I think it’s safe to say that Gendry is just as invested as the rest of the BWB, if not more so, to finding Arya again, hence making him the “prince” searching the realm for his lost Cinderella.
A Dream Is a Wish Your Heart Makes
In Disney’s Cinderella, songs like “Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo”, “So This Is Love”, “Cinderella”, “A Dream Is a Wish Your Heart Makes”, “Oh, Sing Sweet Nightingale”, and “The Work Song” are included into the film. This isn’t the first time we’ve seen something like this in the previous retellings however. Like I mentioned earlier the Brother’s Grimm, Aschenputtel, features this as well to some extant. In Aschenputtel, the heroine would “sing a chant” to call upon the white doves that came from her glowing hazel tree. These birds would help her grant wishes and help her complete tasks, and it was most likely the inspiration for why birds were included in the Disney version, although birds have featured in more than just Aschenputtel. I mention this because GRRM wrote Arya a song in the novels:
“My featherbed is deep and soft,
and there I'll lay you down,
I'll dress you all in yellow silk,
and on your head a crown.
For you shall be my lady love,
and I shall be your lord.
I'll always keep you warm and safe,
and guard you with my sword.
“And how she smiled and how she laughed,
the maiden of the tree.
She spun away and said to him,
no featherbed for me.
I'll wear a gown of golden leaves,
and bind my hair with grass,
But you can be my forest love,
and me your forest lass.”
This is very clearly a love song also and we know it’s most likely about Arya and her foreshadowing a possible future relationship with Gendry. And it’s very clearly about them as Gendry is a bastard Baratheon “prince”, hence the mentions of “yellow silk” and a “crown”, and also because Arya quite literally is dressed as an oak tree at this time and almost a maiden and will be a maiden when they reunite later in the series. We also know the song is meant to foreshadow them because of the context. Tom O’Seven’s specifically winked at Arya as he sang this song, and after the song was sung Lady Smallwood, when taking Arya to get changed into a different dress, said to Arya, “I have no gowns of leaves,” which further tells the readers that this song is Arya’s song, her future love song.
A Mother’s Legacy
In the Magical Helpers section above I mentioned that a dead parent may be the one to help the heroine instead of the typical fairy godmother, by either sending an animal to aid the heroine and/or granting wishes, or by the heroine’s mother transforming into an animal. In some Greek versions, in “the Balkan-Slavonic tradition of the tale”, and in some Central Asian variants, the heroine’s mother comes back as a cow who is then killed by the heroine’s sisters. The heroine eventually gathers the bones and from her mother’s grave the heroine is gifted wonderful dresses. In other variants, the heroine’s dead mother comes back as a fish or a female dog. These animals represent the heroine’s mother’s legacy.
Jon chuckled. “Perhaps you should do the same thing, little sister. Wed Tully to Stark in your arms.”
“A wolf with a fish in its mouth?” It made her laugh. “That would look silly…” – Arya I AGOT
That night she went to sleep thinking of her mother, and wondering if she should kill the Hound in his sleep and rescue Lady Catelyn herself. When she closed her eyes she saw her mother’s face against the back of her eyelids. She’s so close I could almost smell her…
…and then she could smell her. The scent was faint beneath the other smells, beneath moss and mud and water, and the stench of rotting reeds and rotting men. She padded slowly through the soft ground to the river’s edge, lapped up a drink, then lifted her head to sniff. The sky was grey and thick with cloud, the river green and full of floating things. Dead men clogged the shallows, some still moving as the water pushed them, others washed up on the banks. Her brothers and sisters swarmed around them, tearing at the rich ripe flesh.
[. . .]
The scent was stronger now [. . .] Only the scent mattered. She sniffed the air again. There it was, and now she saw it too, something pale and white drifting down the river, turning where it brushed against a snag. The reeds bowed down before it.
She splashed noisily through the shallows and threw herself into the deeper water, her legs churning. The current was strong but she was stronger. She swam, following her nose. The river smells were rich and wet, but those were not the smells that pulled her. She paddled after the sharp red whisper of cold blood, the sweet cloying stench of death. She chased them as she had often chased a red deer through the trees, and in the end she ran them down, and her jaw closed around a pale white arm. She shook it to make it move, but there was only death and blood in her mouth. By now she was tiring, and it was all she could do to pull the body back to shore. As she dragged it up the muddy bank, one of her little brothers came prowling, his tongue lolling from his mouth. She had to snarl to drive him off, or else he would have fed. Only then did she stop to shake the water from her fur. The white thing lay facedown in the mud, her dead flesh wrinkled and pale, cold blood trickling from her throat. Rise, she thought. Rise and eat and run with us. – Arya XII ASOS
“So you sewed his head on Robb Stark’s neck after both o’ them were dead,” said yellow cloak.
“My [Merrett Frey] father did that [. . .] I only drank some wine…you have no witness.”
“As it happens, you’re wrong there.” The singer turned to the hooded woman. “Milady?”
The outlaws parted as she came forward, saying no word. When she lowered her hood, something tightened inside Merrett’s chest, and for a moment he could not breathe. No. No, I saw her die. She was dead for a day and night before they stripped her naked and threw her body in the river. Raymund opened her throat from ear to ear. She was dead.
Her cloak and collar hid the gash his brother’s blade had made, but her face was even worse than he remembered. The flesh had gone pudding soft in the water and turned the color of curdled milk. Half her hair was gone and the rest had turned as white and brittle as a crone’s. Beneath her ravaged scalp, her face was shredded skin and black blood where she had raked herself with her nails. But her eyes were the most terrible thing. Her eyes saw him, and they hated.
“She don’t speak,” said the big man in the yellow cloak. “You bloody bastards cut her throat too deep for that. But she remembers.” He turned to the dead woman and said, “What do you say, m’lady? Was he part of it?”
Lady Catelyn’s eyes never left him. She nodded. – Epilogue ASOS
In the Chinese retelling of Cinderella, Ye Xian, the heroine befriends a fish, which is the reincarnation of her deceased mother. In The Story of Tam and Cam, a Vietnamese version, the heroine Tam also had a fish which was killed by the stepmother and the half-sister, and its bones also give her clothes. And a typical scene in Kapmalaien tales is the mother becoming a fish, being eaten in fish form, the daughter burying her bones and a tree sprouting from her grave.
So not only is Lady Catelyn a symbolic fish, a daughter of House Tully, but she’s also been resurrected (reincarnated), and is looking specifically for our heroine, Arya, who I believe will be gifted several various things (both good and bad) by this incarnation of her mother, but we shall see if the parallel continues when TWOW and ADOS come out.
Conclusion
I really hope that after you read this monster you were as convinced as I am that Arya indeed has Cinderella motifs, and an extensive amount of them as well. Whatever it may mean I don’t rightly know, but what I do know is that at the end of the day, the many stories of Cinderella are an analogy. An analogy about someone “who unexpectedly achieves recognition or success after a period of obscurity and neglect”. Of someone whose attributes were unrecognized in their society, only for them to be recognized. And I don’t know about you, but that sounds pretty hand in hand with one of her other biggest fairy tale motifs as well that runs concurrently with the Cinderella motif, and that is the story of “The Ugly Duckling”, who after years of neglect, finds acceptance within society, as well as self-acceptance within themselves. :)
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OMORI’s poor writing (Part 2)
Once again, if you are a big fan of OMORI, this review is not for you. Treasure this game, love it, recommend it, make fan art, buy the merch, do what you will with it. I am not here to take OMORI away from anyone. Based on the overwhelmingly positive reviews on Steam, I know that my opinion is in the minority.
However, just as the fans have the right to praise the game, I have the right to examine it, criticize it, and explain why it failed to provide a compelling experience. This is second part of my review where I will tackle OMORI’s problematic themes and disrespectful appropriation of mental health.
[ See Part 1: Plot Writing Lies ]
(Note: I use “OMORI” in all-caps for the game title, and “Omori” in title case for the character name.)
Spoilers and criticism below.
Part 2: OMORI’s message is mishandled and distasteful
OMORI provides a warning that it depicts scenes of depression, anxiety, and suicide. Because the game includes these scenes, I assumed these mental health issues are presented in a way that is meaningful and respectful.
However, that is not the case.
Despite having depictions of such, this game is not really about depression, anxiety, or even suicide. It’s about committing a horrible crime, lying about it, and getting over the guilt.
1. Suicide as a game mechanic
Suicidal thoughts are intrusive, terrifying, and painful. As well as ending the victim's life, suicide wreaks havoc on the lives of those who once knew them. It is often a taboo topic, but discussing such matters is an important step to understanding and preventing it. Video games are a medium well suited to approaching such dark topics.
Unfortunately, OMORI does not handle the topic of suicide well at all.
First, suicide is written as a unavoidable game mechanic that seems to have been included for shallow reasons such as aesthetic and shock value. To leave Sunny’s headspace and wake up, you--as a player--must direct him to stab himself in the stomach.
But why? It’s not like waking up involves some sort of major sacrifice. In fact, waking up is something that is more or less unavoidable. Reality should be something that snatches Sunny away from his headspace against his will, perhaps as an encroaching darkness that Sunny can run from, but never truly escape. But instead, facing reality is something you are forced to opt into in the most needlessly violent way possible.
Forcing you--as a player--to literally commit suicide just to wake up from a dream is a pointless, distasteful, and disrespectful action that sets a precedent for suicide not being taken seriously in this game. (And it isn’t.)
In the black space, Omori is pressured to kill a cat. In that scene, regardless of your choice, you are forced to kill yourself. However, the act of stabbing yourself has been seen so many times at that point that it has completely lost any impact. Who cares about suicide when it’s been reduced to just a means of travel?
Lastly, if you fail to defeat the final boss, Sunny commits suicide in the real world. However, this is not a cutscene, it is once again something that you--as a player--are forced to do to progress. Putting these actions in the hands of a player is not as meaningful as the writer seems to believe, because there are no other options to progress. Any weight in making that decision is lost to resignation; a frustrated sigh of “Well, okay, fine. I guess I have to click Z here.” You are then rewarded with a SLAPPING pop song and a psychedelic cutscene of Sunny falling to his death. It’s tasteless to its core and appropriates the deaths of every suicidal person as a quirky, shallow “bad end.”
(Seriously, this is how the writer decided to depict a child taking his own life.)
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2. Sunny/Omori is a poor presentation of depression
Sunny/Omori does not smile. Even in past photographs before The Incident, he still is not smiling. The contrast between Sunny and his friends stands out like a sore thumb, so I assumed this was the writer’s attempt to show that Sunny is dealing with depression, where he can’t be happy even in happy situations.
Of course, if that were the case it would be inaccurate since depressed people do smile and do hide their true feelings. They are often dismissed with, “You can’t be depressed, I saw you smiling once.” However, I was willing to let Sunny’s chronic frown slide because sometimes you have to oversimplify an idea to get your point across.
Much to my surprise, there is NO evidence of Sunny having depression before The Incident and there is very little indication of him having depression throughout the game either. The evidence of this is that while looking at a family portrait, Sunny comments that he's never liked to smile. Since he's a a baby in this portrait, this goes to show that his not smiling is simply a preference -- a quirky character trait that makes him stand out so that you feel an emotion during the true ending when he finally smiles.
Everything in the game seems to point to him being pretty happy and well adjusted up until he killed Mari. Then, even after he killed Mari, he pretty much looks and behaves the same way. Wouldn’t it be more jarring and tragic if you saw Sunny was happy in the past, but depressed now?
Which leads me to my next point...
3. Sunny and Basil are not depressed, they’re guilty (and for good reason)
In the book I Thought It Was Just Me (But It Isn’t), Brené Brown explains the difference between feeling guilt and shame.
Guilt means: “I did something bad.”
Shame means: “I am something bad.”
Guilt, when attributed to bad behavior, is actually a healthy emotion. It means that you have a sense of right and wrong, that you empathize with those you’ve hurt, and it motivates you to make things right.
Shame is an unhealthy emotion. It arrests growth, destroys self-esteem, causes poor decision making, isolates you from your loved ones, and is directly correlated with anxiety and depression.
OMORI should be a game about overcoming shame. All the right set pieces are there. Sunny’s walled himself off, his sister (allegedly) committed suicide, and he seems to be struggling with lifelong depression. However, this all falls apart, when it’s revealed that he killed his sister and staged her death as a suicide to escape blame (with Basil’s help). He DID do something bad. It’s not shame, it’s literally guilt.
All at once, OMORI stops being a game about recovering from grief and depression and becomes a game that demands the player to sympathize with a killer and liar who is hiding from his crimes. Because he and Basil feel bad about what they did, Sunny and Basil are presented as greater victims than their actual victim.
4. OMORI asks you empathize with villains (with ZERO self awareness)
Games where you are playing a character with a guilty conscience has been told before, but where OMORI really fails is that Sunny is not truly held accountable for what he did to others. Instead, the game focuses on HIS pain: since killing his sister he’s been isolated, he’s having nightmares, and he’s suicidal.
The plot of the game is focused on helping Sunny forgive himself for ruining other people’s lives. The writing barely acknowledges how his friends/family feel about what he did. When his victims’ pain IS addressed, it’s either used to further victimize Sunny (ie: isn’t it sad for him that he made his friends so sad?) or it’s used to reassure the player that Sunny’s victims have forgiven him (or will forgive him).
In fact, the game holds Mari responsible for her own death, citing that her "perfectionism" must have been what pushed Sunny to attack her. OMORI presents Mari, through headspace, as someone who accepted death gracefully and wants Sunny to live a happy life. She is never given her own voice and nothing in the game suggests she is capable of feeling bitter over her death and postmortem desecration. She plays the role of the Madonna archetype--and the perfect victim--allowing the player to empathize entirely with Sunny while accepting that Mari brought everything on herself.
[Mari suggesting that Sunny acting out his aggression on her was her fault.]
The climax of this game is NOT Sunny telling the truth to his friends. The climax is Sunny defeating his guilt and forgiving himself. We know this because the story does not even show how his friends respond to his confession, because-- once again-- what’s most important thing is resolving Sunny’s pain, not the pain he has caused others. (Though the game does heavily imply that his friends will forgive him.)
[Pictured: the boys shedding their guilt is the true happy ending ]
Imagine, for a moment, if this game was about an abuser, who caused immense pain to someone and got away with it. Then, the whole game was about how they felt bad for the abuse they caused, and-- as a player-- you help them forgive THEMSELF for their past abuse. Then, in the last few seconds of the game, they either apologize to their victim or kill themself. The victim’s response is not shown because it is not important.
This is the plot of OMORI, except with a bunch of excuses thrown on top to make it more palatable. Sunny and Basil are just soooo cute and sad. Killing Mari was an accident. Stringing her body up like a piñata was a juvenile mistake. The boys feel SO BAD that they want to kill themselves. And because suicide is so tragic, you-- as an audience-- are manipulated into empathizing them.
5. In OMORI, suicide is used as a cheap ploy for sympathy
As I mentioned before, suicide is horrible and tragic. People struggling with suicidal ideation need help, support, and respect. That said, let’s make one thing clear: being suicidal does not automatically make someone a good person. There are plenty of examples of criminals who kill themselves to escape the penalty or guilt for something they did. It is so common in the news that I don’t think I have to list out examples.
In bad endings, Sunny and Basil’s suicides are 100% motivated by guilt for their very real crimes. Now, it should be stated, Sunny and Basil do not deserve to die. And because suicide is such an extreme, permanent end for those two boys, we-- as players-- are invested in preventing that tragic end at all costs.
However, the looming threat of suicide is used as leverage to force the audience to dismiss the severity of what Sunny and Basil did. As I’ve said before, the plot of the game is about soothing and alleviating Sunny’s guilt and stopping him from killing himself as opposed to making things right.
The worst thing is, this tactic actually works. The threat of suicide is so strong, it has distracted many players from the truth that this story is about sympathizing with a boy who has killed his sister, with little regard for those his actions have affected (see point #4).
It’s terrible because suicide is such a serious topic worthy of discussion, but when used as little more than pity-bait, it twists your perception of what the characters did and silences those who try to criticize how this game handles such topics.
6. Mari's suicide being fake is a terrible twist
Lastly, by revealing Mari’s “suicide” as an accidental death, OMORI misses an opportunity to tell a much more powerful story. In the first half of this game, when Mari is thought to have committed suicide at the young age of 15, is a sobering moment. That tragedy is something very real.
If Mari had killed herself as opposed to being killed, Sunny isolating himself after his sister takes her own life is realistic. Mari’s death coming as a surprise is also realistic; how often have we heard people saying that they never knew someone was suffering? That they seemed like such a happy person?
Losing a loved one to suicide does not just cause horrible grief, but crippling shame as well. Those left behind will blame themselves, tormented by thoughts of how they could have saved them, how they would do anything to get them back. That shame can follow you forever, haunting you like a ghost, threatening you with the same fate. Overcoming that grief and shame is no simple task, and I truly thought OMORI was going to be about grappling with grief and letting go of survivor guilt.
Instead, Mari didn’t commit suicide, her life was cut short by her brother. Then, her body was staged as a suicide, forever changing how her family and friends perceived her. Her hanging body did not represent a devastating loss of life and horror of teen depression, but instead is a cheap twist that represents Sunny’s guilt for killing her and tampering with her corpse.
Conclusion:
As I’ve mentioned before OMORI has a lot of potential. The set pieces of a depressed kid who escapes to a dream world to cope with his unresolved trauma is one that had the makings to be very meaningful. However, it fumbles these issues, creating a sloppy plot that results in a problematic message. It’s baffling that this even happened, especially considering the length of time this was in development.
#omori#omori hate#review#words#the more I analyze it the worse this game gets#suicide cw#omori spoilers
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do you have any recommendations for media that's like...minimally problematic? idk how to word it but like stuff that won't have me ripping my hair out due to the writers' blatant racism / colorism / homophobia / what have you? i'm looking for something i can just sit down and enjoy right now but everything i like always has...something
That's the thing. Everything is going to have something. It's just a matter of how much you can tolerate versus how minimal those elements actually end up being.
General disclaimer that nothing is going to be 100% 'unproblematic' and to a point its someone's responsibility to recognise what elements are actually problematic and what elements are there for a reason as either an allusion to real issues or directly tackling said issues. These are just anime that are my all-time favourites (Saiyuki would be included but considering how heavy it is that REALLY depends on your own personal tastes. Brilliant manga either way personally alongside its flaws. Fruits Basket also falls into this category but I'm not getting into discourse about that 10+ years after its release. No one can force me).
Red Garden - one of my FAVOURITE anime of all time solely because of how it depicts the emotional trauma and unique hardships its main four girls go through. It features four high schools girls, all falling into 'stereotypical' cliques (the honour student, the shrinking violet, the tough girl, the party girl) and proceeds to give them such life and depth with their families, friends, and even enemies. Scattered usage of F-slur being the main warning.
Without getting too spoilery, the plot follows the girls after a mutual friend of theirs, Lise, dies from an assumed suicide. They find themselves all drawn to the same place by butterflies only they can see, and upon meeting each other, meet a woman named Lula. According to her, they're already dead, using substitute bodies to go about their day, and can never regain their normal lives if they don't kill a common enemy.
Claymore - a fairly brutal manga (and anime). It follows Clare, a young woman who works for an organisation tasked with protecting humanity from Yoma (the series' take on akuma/yokai). The Claymores are a group of 'silver-eyed witches', their abilities enhanced by the Yoma blood injected into their bodies from childhood. Clare finds herself repeating the past after saving a boy named Raki from Yoma, and the plot follows her struggled with her weakness as a Claymore and the organisation's iron-grip on the women under its control.
Mononoke - I am going to preface by saying it depicts black Japanese characters, but they're generally given well-done unique designs. The only disclaimer is the man in the first arc, but other than him the Afro-Japanese characters in the show aren't just blatant caricatures.
Fun disclaimer out the way, it's an anthology of horror and mystery tales given a very Noh spin in both how the 'protagonist', Medicine Seller speaks (Sakurai at his best honestly), and the way it's split into 'acts' for intermissions. This one is a real hidden gem I feel and so underrated despite its unique art style and direction. It's stories range from heartbreaking to disturbing (often both), and focuses on exorcising ayakashi and the human atrocities that led to them. Simultaneously emotional and dramatic and I love it with all my heart.
Ayakashi: Traditional Japanese Horror Tales: exactly what it says on the tin. Anime that adapts classic, well-known, influential horror tales (. Also the beginning of Mononoke and its original adaptation before its popularity blessed us with Mononoke. Note that the Mononoke story is heavily triggering (rape, animal abuse) and EXTREMELY hard to swallow in one sitting. Watched it in anime club in my school days and the whole club was in tears. Definitely worth it if you can handle it though.
Yamishibai: another anthology horror series, but much simpler and lighter than Mononoke. 5-minisodes with a 'paper cut-out' art style. Ranges from folklore to urban legends and more abstract horror. YMV since it's 10 seasons long (again eps are only like 5 minute's long).
Aoi Bungaku: anime that adapted classic Japanese literature, including the notorious No Longer Human by Osamu Dazai and a gorgeous rendition of both "The Spider's Thread" and "Hell Screen" by Ryunosuke Akutagawa.
Pandora Hearts: manga by Jun Mochizuki. If you held a gun to my head and told me to suggest the anime I'd pay you money to take the shot. I have no fucking clue how to sufficiently describe the plot. It's a fantasy with Alice in Wonderland elements blended into a story whose themes focus on existential crises and the protagonist's self-worth and how he diminishes it by disguising his lack of worth as selflessness and heroism. Also a lot of hot women (Charlotte Baskerville my beloved). Cast is generally white and there's a short arc with a rather racist depiction of a Chinese man, but for what it's worth it doesn't last long and isn't Black Butler levels of Chinese Orientalism.
The Case Study of Vanitas: same manga-ka as Pandora Hearts, but its anime is so far fairly decent and faithful to the source material. Features steampunk 19th century France in a world that coexists with vampires with great hostility and fear. If Pandora Hearts focuses on existential crises and self-worth, Vanitas focuses on survivor's guilt and concepts of found family.
A vampire reviled by their own kind creates a book capable of corrupting vampires' true names and making them go berserk. The book inexplicably falls into the hands of a human boasting the same name as that vampire - Vanitas. He is a fucked up little man really. The protagonist Noé is a black man but he suffers from the typical "dark skin white hair" trope. But his design aside he's an incredible protagonist and lovingly written and I'd commit violence for him.
Are You Alice?: Alice in Wonderland meta-manga(?) . I love it. Couldn't fucking tell you what the fuck happened without giving an essay though.
Just. "You're Alice, he's Alice, I'M ALICE. ARE THERE ANY OTHER ALICES I SHOULD KNOW ABOUT?" *the screams of several agonised souls cry out in response*. That's it that's the manga.
Kaguya-sama: Love is War: absolute batshit comedy series about two characters that like each other but adamantly refuse to be the first to admit it and keep trying charm the other into confessing first. Sheer madness. Watch in dub for full effect.
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