#I've had this buried in my drafts for more than a year

[5ummit]

It’s been 7 years since Civil War and I still mourn for the Bucky Barnes story we should’ve gotten.

I mourn for how quickly they showed him integrated back into society after CATWS. One moment he’s almost killing his best friend... and the next moment he’s living on his own and seems just fine. Sure, he’s a little quiet and awkward and sad, but he’s mostly pretty normal. Outside of the first half of Civil War, there’s very little evidence at all that would lead anyone to believe Bucky used to be the world’s most feared assassin, who was trained and molded into the perfect weapon through unimaginable pain and psychological manipulation. This man spent the better part of his life as a ruthless, mindless killing machine programmed to do nothing more than follow orders. You don’t just walk away from that without being fundamentally and irreversibly psychologically altered. Even the removal of the trigger words wouldn’t change that.

To clarify, I’m not talking about his lingering feelings of guilt and sadness. I think Seb has done a great job with getting that part across at least. I’m talking about his behavior. About way he interacts with other people and how he handles situations. He doesn’t act like a formerly-brainwashed ex-assassin who was treated as less than human for literal decades and who, by all accounts, should have the most severe form of PTSD known to man.

I just don’t buy the Bucky we see post-CATWS and particularly post-Civil-War. I don’t buy that Bucky would be joking around and flirting and basically acting like Just Some Guy – a grumpy guy but still Just Some Guy – and his recent haircut sure isn’t helping the situation either. That he wouldn’t always be a little bit on edge, a little bit animal (kinda like the way we see him at the beginning of Civil War but then never again). That being in the heat of battle wouldn’t sometimes make him either shut down or completely snap and go into a violent fugue state where he subconsciously reverts back to the brutally efficient methods of the Winter Soldier (we almost got this in TFATWS but they couldn’t commit).

Now maybe he received some absolutely incredible therapy in Wakanda. Maybe it worked wonders on him! The problem is I don’t buy it because I never saw it. I never got to see him struggle to learn how to be a person again. I never got to see him fight back against the thing Hydra turned him into.

It just sucks because I love everything about the concept of Bucky and the Winter Soldier, but the parts they’ve chosen not to show or address are, in my opinion, the most interesting parts of his character. But more than that, the lack of follow through and disconnect between what he was and who he seems to be now makes it really hard for me to see him as a fully-realized person in canon. It’s like my brain registers perfectly who he was in CATFA/CATWS and even kinda sorta now in TFATWS, but there’s this giant chasm in between them that mentally feels like fuzzy static.

How long did it take him to fully shake off the brainwashing and conditioning? When did he start thinking of himself as a human being with agency again? Did he ever have to fight the desire to return to Hydra, the only thing he’s known for 70 years, or was it an easy choice? How long did it take him to start recovering his memories? Has he recovered all of them? Does he now remember everything that happened before and during his time at Hydra? How long did it take him to stop flinching at every sound and expecting Hydra to track him down? How long did it take him to relearn how to interact with people like a normal person? How did he afford food and shelter between CATWS and CACW? How and why did he end up in Romania? Did he travel there immediately after CATWS or did he live somewhere else first? Did he get actual therapy in Wakanda or did they just work their science-magic to remove the trigger words and send him on his way? Is the the soldier still in there? Does he still have to consciously stop himself from using deadly force every time he’s in a fight? Is that why he deliberately avoids carrying any weapons now?

I have so many questions.

Fortunately we have fic and fanon to help fill the void but we shouldn’t have to. Bucky Barnes is one of the most interesting and unique characters to ever exist. There’s so much good stuff to dig into here and it’s been wasted.

They squandered the original opportunity to explore this part of his character when they turned Cap 3 into an Iron Man film, a decision I will forever be mad about (fuck you RDJ/Tony for stealing Bucky’s movie), but they finally had the perfect chance to make up for that with TFATWS! Bucky was getting his own show (6 hours of content!), and with it, plenty of time to really dig into his psyche and lingering trauma! I had hoped to see him relapsing a bit and falling into old patterns. Or maybe being triggered by something and having a panic attack. Or even just talking about his time in Hydra and how it felt to be used like that and his struggles to regain his humanity afterwards (instead they fucking gave Hawkeye the emotional “I was a weapon” speech that Bucky rightfully deserved). But other than that opening nightmare, a few brief teasing lines from Zemo about the solider still being in there (which was never followed through on), and the shittiest excuse for “therapy” I’ve ever seen, we really got nothing.

From everything they’ve shown us, and particularly from the ending of TFATWS, it’s clear Marvel believes Bucky has already “healed” and there’s little left to discuss or explore and it makes me incredibly sad.

#I've had this buried in my drafts for more than a year #might as well post it now because my feelings haven't changed #LET 👏 BUCKY 👏 BE 👏 FUCKED 👏 UP #I refuse to get my hopes up about any of his trauma ever being addressed in thunderbolts either #all I can say is he better still be a sad grumpy boy at the very least #if they really do lean into the happy ending of tfatws #I will RIOT #bucky barnes #marvel #marvel wank #my words #my meta

[matan4il]

Daily update post:

The IDF's spokesman in Arabic, Avichay Adraee, has shared a vid of a rare demonstration by Gazans, where they protest the ruin Hamas has brought on them, and demand for its leader in Gaza, Yahya Sinwar, to releaste the Israeli hostages.

Regarding the 24 Israeli soldiers killed in Gaza the other day, here are the details to the best of my understanding of how 21 of them were killed in one incident (based on reports on Israeli TV). It seems that the soldiers were preparing a couple of multi-floor buildings to be blown up, because these were close enough to the border, that snipers could use them to shoot at Israeli civilians without even crossing over. The soldiers were laying out the explosives, and there was a tank nearby, guarding them. A terrorist squad came out of a terror tunnel shaft that hadn't been located by the soldiers earlier, and fired an anti-tank missile at the buildings, triggering the explosives, which also caused the buildings to collapse. Every soldier who was inside, was killed. That was how 19 soldiers died. It took hours for a search and rescue team to retrieve their bodies from the rubble (including a group of fire fighters who had to be "drafted" in order to allow them into Gaza). The tank recognized the source of the fire, and was turning to shoot back at the terrorists, but they fired an additional anti-tank missile at it, and killed another 2 soldiers. Out of the 24 soldiers killed, 16 were already buried yesterday.

One of them was 35 years old Elkana Wiesel.

He left a last letter to his loved ones: "If you're reading these words, something must have happened to me. First of all, if I have been kidnapped, I demand that you do not release a single terrorist to free me. Our decisive victory is more important than anything else to ensure our safety, so please keep going full force to make our victory as decisive as possible. Maybe I fell in battle. When a soldier falls in battle, that's sad. But I'm asking you to be happy. Don't be sad when you say goodbye to me. Sing a lot, nourish each other's hearts, hold each other's hands and strengthen each other. We have so much to be proud and joyful over, we are a generation of salvation! We are writing the most meaningful moments in the history of our people and of the world. So please, be optimistic. Keep choosing life, all the time. A life of love, hope, purity and optimism. Look into the eyes of the people you hold dearest, and remind them that everything we're going through in this life is worth it. That they have a lot to live for. Live! Do not stop the powerfulness of life for a single minute! I was already injured during [Operation] Protective Edge. I had the choice to stay back. But I do not regret for a moment that I returned to being a fighter. On the contrary, this is the best decision I've ever made."

May their memories be a blessing.

A report from South African news site News24 claims the International Court of Justice will publish its decision on SA's request for 9 provisional measures regarding the war in Gaza this Friday (Jan 26). Israel says it has not received any official notification on this. In any case, the ICJ will be publishing its decision by Feb 6 at the latest, because that's when the time of several judges at the ICJ will come to an end.

For the second time this month, Israel has stopped Arabs from East Jerusalem, who identify as ISIS terrorists, from carrying out an attack against Israelis. Another terrorist attack was prevented from taking place yesterday, when the terrorist was eliminated

This is 19 years old Shay Levinson.

He was a star volleyball player, who believed in coexistence, was studying Arabic, and chose to play for the Arab team of a Christian Arab town situated close to his own. Here he is (standing third from the left) with his Arab team when they won the state championship:

Shay was believed to have been kidnapped to Gaza on Oct 7. Here are his Arab coach and team manager with his mom Shlomit Levinson (a volleyball player herself), holding up his hostage poster together:

It was confirmed the other day that Shay was murdered by Hamas on Oct 7, and his body had been kidnapped to Gaza, and is held hostage. His coach Sma'an said: "It's a very hard blow. This is a kid who was a part of our family. Our heart hurts. We're not functioning as a team. We're unfocused, we can't concentrate, training sessions have been canceled. We want to be by the family during these difficult days. We champion coexistence, sports brings hearts closer. Our language is common. We don't care about distinctions like Jews, Arabs, Christians, Muslims."

May his memory be a blessing.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

#israel #antisemitism #israeli #israel news #israel under attack #israel under fire #terrorism #anti terrorism #hamas #antisemitic #antisemites #jews #jew #judaism #jumblr #frumblr #jewish #israelunderattack

[sillydestiny]

Hi, I love how you write and I've seen that you've done Cale, Alberu x reader. I would like you to do one with Choi Han x f!reader, where I would like to see how he falls in love (that Choi Han contains the essence of how he is). I don't know if it's something hard to write but I'll leave it up to you. Keep healthy and happy new year ✨🥰.

Sorry if there are grammatical errors, my English is not good.♥️

@monblue0 sorry for the late upload this draft has been seating for too long since lack of motivation and writer block.. I just recently finished it so I hope you like it ꒰⁠⑅⁠ᵕ⁠༚⁠ᵕ⁠꒱⁠˖⁠♡

CHOI HAN X READER

Choi Han is initially reserved and guarded, carrying the weight of his past experiences and the responsibilities he holds dear

At first, Choi Han didn't pay much attention to the reader. They were just another member of the Count's household, someone he interacted with casually during his duties

It started with small things - the way you smiled when you thought no one was looking, the sound of your laughter echoing through the halls of the Count's estate. Choi Han found himself drawn to you, inexplicably drawn to your presence like a moth to a flame.

The way your eyes light up when you talk about your passions and the genuine kindness in your smile. These qualities make him feel a warmth he hasn't experienced before.

At first, he brushes these observations aside, attributing them to mere friendship or camaraderie.

But as time goes on, Choi Han finds himself drawn to the reader in ways he can't explain. He notices his heart racing whenever they're near, his thoughts consumed by thoughts of them even when they're apart. He tries to rationalize these feelings, convincing himself that it's nothing more than admiration or respect.

He tried to ignore it, burying himself in his work and his training, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shake the feeling growing inside him. It was like a wildfire, consuming him from the inside out.

It was a simple gesture that finally made him realize the truth - the way you reached out to him, offering a comforting hand on his shoulder after a particularly difficult battle. In that moment, Choi Han felt something shift inside him, a warmth spreading through his chest that he couldn't ignore.

He began to see you in a different light And with each passing day, he found himself falling deeper and deeper in love with you.

But Choi Han was not one to wear his heart on his sleeve. He kept his feelings hidden, afraid of what might happen if he let them out. He didn't want to burden you with his emotions, didn't want to risk losing the fragile bond they had formed.

Yet, despite his best efforts to keep his distance, he couldn't stay away. He found himself seeking out your company, cherishing every moment they spent together, no matter how fleeting.

And then, one day, he found the courage to tell you how he felt. It was a simple confession, spoken in a quiet moment when they were alone together. He didn't expect anything in return, didn't dare to hope that you might feel the same way.

But when you smiled and reached out to take his hand in yours, he knew that his love had been reciprocated. And in that moment, Choi Han realized that he had finally found someone worth fighting for, someone worth risking everything for. And he vowed to cherish you, protect you, for as long as he lived.

Choi Han was certainly the one who fell the hardest, his heart forever intertwined with theirs.

#gn reader #manhwa x reader #manhwa #tcf x reader #totcf x reader #trash of the count’s family #trash of the count’s family x reader #choi han #choihanxreader #reader insert

[irrevocableloves]

violent delights

twilight rewrite! edward cullen x fem!witch!reader

chapter one: the city of forks welcomes you

masterlist ౨ৎ chapter two

summary: y/n swan has lived in forks all of her life, but when she takes her summer-long vacation to california to visit her mother, she returns to a strange new family accompanying the small town.

warnings: swearing, angst

words: 1.8k

a/n: this has been in my drafts for so so long and tbh i haven't written a fanfic since i was 12... and i'm fr 22, but i've ran out of twilight fanfics to read (i've been waiting weeks for one specific one to update and i'm going crazy)... so anyways !! hope you enjoy !!

Opening my eyes, I was greeted with the trees of Forks, Washington. After an almost four hour drive, I could sense that I was nearing my home as the city was nowhere to be found. Instead it was replaced with deep green trees, dim skies, and the small shops that swept by as my dad drove.

I liked Forks, more than I probably should. Everyone here, mostly the kids, sulked about big bright cities where the sun would actually make an appearance. They longed for the liveliness that Forks had never given them.

But me? I secretly adored the quietness of it all. But of course, I had a disadvantage. Every summer I bathed in the sun rays of California, visited the busy cities, the warm beaches, and the overall liveliness that was craved from everyone else. But I was drained. Normally, it would be the opposite from any other person, but I always loved the cold. Ever since I was a kid, my little brain was wired to believe that Forks was almost like Christmas every single day of the year. So, rain, snow, or even ice (even with the ungodly amount of times I've slipped) never had me in too big of a rut.

With my mom back in California, though I loved her to death, was an absolute headache most of the time. And unlike my dad, she hovered. But, it wasn't her fault. The summer is the only time she had me, the rest were reserved with Charlie, which had resulted in this summer's mishaps: she begged me to stay longer. One would think that school would be an easy get out, but she knew the first month was nothing but dry introductions, syllabi, and effortless assignments. It was partly my fault. I was never one to turn her down, perhaps it was guilt because maybe she and I felt deep down that I favored my father more because who could ever turn down a chance to live in the perfect bustling city of San Francisco over Forks.

So I stayed. But now, it's the beginning of October. Thankfully, I was able to get in contact with the school in order to get all of my classes in order, as well as the help of my best friend, Angela, who emailed me all of the assignments. Jessica on the other hand, filled me in on all of the gossip. Her phone calls consisted of talks about her massive crush on Mike as well as the new and "totally weird" (as Jessica put it) family. "Suuupperrr pale, but weirdly GORGEOUS. I mean this Edward guy, he's wow. I swear if Mike doesn't make a move soon... I wonder if I could make him jealous?" The conversations were mostly one-sided, always either complaining about Mike's obliviousness or never catching that new guy's attention.

Now that I knew I was caught up on everything to do with school, all I wanted was to bury myself in bed and prepare for an alarm that hasn't been set in months.

I awoke to the sound of a car honking outside my window, assuming it was nothing, I settled back into my pillows, throwing my purple duvet back over your head for hopefully another thirty minutes of sleep.

"Y/N/N!" I heard my dad's voice accompanied by one of his famously loud whistles from outside of my window. That's when I finally got up and peered over with squinting eyes to see my father coming out of a car that most definitely wasn't his squad car.

Once my vision settled, I saw a green Volkswagen beetle parked in the driveway. No fucking way. I sprinted down the stairs and flung the front door open to see my father with a wide grin, gesturing the keys in front of my face.

"For me? You're joking?" I said in complete shock.

"You want me to be joking? Cause if so I can just bring this right back to Billy and let him sell it to some other geezer."

"No! No! No! I mean... Thank you, dad. Oh my god, how did you guys even find this?"

"Well, consider it a late birthday present. Billy and Jacob found it back in May for your birthday and decided to fix it up for ya, free of charge, but I paid 'em of course."

"Thanks dad and how about we invite Billy and Jacob over sometime and I'll cook? As a thank you?"

"You bet."

Once I parked in front of the school, my group of friends welcomed me with open arms, with Angela and Jessica squealing about how much they missed you and the boys, mostly just Mike, trying to awkwardly hug me.

I knew Mike had a crush on me, since third grade to be exact, which only made it worse for my friendship with Jessica, which made it worse for Lauren, Jessica's bestest friend to have an even better reason to despise me.

The first four classes: English, Government, Trigonometry, and French were surprisingly a breeze thanks to the assignments either Angela or the teachers sent over while I was away.

While at lunch, a new, unfamiliar bunch emerged from the cafeteria doors. They were beautiful... and also extremely pale even for Forks. So, this was the family Jessica was practically drooling over?

"Who are they?" I questioned anyways.

Jessica leans in, being careful to whisper, "It's the family I was telling you about. Dr. and Mrs. Cullen's foster kids. They all moved down here from Alaska like last month."

I studied the first girl who walked in, bleached blonde hair, almost black eyes that were almost unsettling, she wore a thin grey coat and a knitted white scarf that matched her icy skin, and a necklace with a large charm that looked to be a family crest of some sort.

"The blonde girl, Rosalie, and the big dark-haired guy, Emmett..." Jessica continued.

More of the family gathered in slowly, the blonde was linking hands with a man with jet black hair, with the same family crest residing on his wrist.

"... they're a thing. I'm not even sure that's legal." Jessica grimaced.

Angela piped in, "Jess, they're not actually related."

"But they live together and all wear that weird creepy crest like some sort of cult. And the little dark haired girl, Alice, she's really weird..."

Despite Jessica's remarks, Alice was the one who caught my eye the most so far and not in a negative way. She reminded me of a fairy almost with her pixie-like hair cut, her style, and the way she carried herself, which was pretty whimsical in a way. Her arms were locked with a man beside her, bleached blonde just as Rosalie was.

"... she's with Jasper, the blonde who looks like he's in pain" Jessica continued on, "I mean, Dr. Cullen's like this foster dad slash match maker."

"Maybe he'll adopt me." Angela giggled.

The last Cullen to enter, I assumed it was Edward, the man Jessica claimed to be weirdly gorgeous and 'wow'. 'Wow' was the perfect word to explain how I felt as he strode down the cafeteria. I couldn't keep your eyes off of him, even as he went past your table, I was oddly captivated by his presence. He had a lanky body, matched with the same pale skin as his siblings, bronze hair and striking smirk. You could've sworn he heard Jessica's whispered remarks from across the cafeteria.

"He's totally gorgeous, obviously. But apparently, no one here is good enough for him. Like I care." She does. "Anyway, don't waste your time."

"I wasn't planning on it." I looked away before his eyes could find mine and once I did, I felt as if holes were practically burned at the back of my head. Was he staring?

Out of curiosity, I peered over my shoulder, quickly glancing, seeing his eyes on mine and quickly turning my eyes back, slowly hiding behind my hair.

Before I walked into Biology, I shuffled through my backpack to look for the assignments I'd done in your time away, settling them in my hands as I walked through the door.

Greeting Mr. Banner, I handed him my completed assignments that were neatly put together with a paper clip.

"Finally nice to see you Miss Y/L/N, how was your summer?" Being great at biology put you at an advantage, not only for assignments, but because Mr. Banner didn't question much about my month long disappearance, but I couldn't say the same about PE...

"It was good, thank you."

"Well that's great, I'm glad! And I appreciate your completed assignments, not even people attending have it all quite done like you have!" He rambled. "So! Your seat... There's a seating chart, but there should be an empty seat I left for you...,yes! Right there, next to Mr. Cullen." Mr. Banner pointed to the right side of the classroom to the seat next to the Cullen boy.

Edward's eyes once again felt as if they burned through my own, staring at me as if you had wronged him in some way. The hatred in his eyes was well aware, but for what reason?

With each step I took, the more disgust in his features appeared, almost as if he was holding his breath. Did I stink or something? I attempted not to smell myself to see if perhaps I had raging body odor or even a bad breath that radiated from across the classroom. No one else seemed to have an issue besides him.

Once I was sat, I heard him mutter into a cough, but I only made eye contact with his beading black eyes and said nothing at all. He only pushed the microscope towards me slowly, being careful to not come any closer to me as if he would catch something.

I sighed loudly, making my annoyance well known. He only just tensed.

Throughout the entirety of the class, the tension continued. I even considered going up to Mr. Banner and asking to switch seats with someone, but that only sparked the possibility of Mike forcing Eric to switch seats and I honestly couldn't figure out which would be worse. So, I decided to suffer through the entire hour and perhaps learn to suffer the entire year partnered with a man who could hardly even look me in the eye without being utterly disgusted.

At first I was hurt, but the hurt swiftly turned into annoyance once the partner sessions began. He didn't even consult with me, rather he just scribbled as fast as he could, only of what he was able to see through the microscope, only handing it to me after to check his answers. All correct, surprisingly.

Staring at the clock, I was counting down the time until the bell. Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Edward had gotten up, practically running out of the classroom before the bell had officially rung.

next chapter

#violent delights #edward cullen #edward cullen x reader #edward cullen x you #edward cullen x y/n #twilight #twilight rewrite #twilight fanfiction #edward cullen fanfiction #robert pattinson #robert pattinson x reader #violent delights fanfiction #violent delights fanfic

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

In the Dead of Solstice Night (Pre Coming Home Oneshot)

Azriel x Reader

Hiiii! Merry Christmas, to all who celebrate it <3 I really wanted to get something out in time for Christmas (and while I'm finishing up the next part of Fireleaf), and I've had this in my drafts for a while.

This is a oneshot set in the Coming Home universe, before reader ever went travelling - a sort of reimagining, where something happens between Az and Y/N on Solstice night one year. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: SMUT.

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

The silence was stifling, considering the noise that had filled the Town House only a matter of hours before. 

The sounds of laughter, of talking, of the roaring fire — all of it had been swept away by the late hour and replaced by a peaceful quiet. The day of wonderful chaos should have made it easy for you to drift off to sleep — but there you were, laying in your bed, your eyes pinned wide on the ceiling. 

Down the hall, in their own respective bedrooms, Rhys, Mor, Cassian and Amren were already sleeping soundly, their bellies full of food and drink — or blood, in Amren’s case. Your fae hearing easily picked up on the sounds of their heavy breathing, the occasional rustle of the sheets if they tossed or turned in bed. 

And it made you all too aware of the fact that Azriel hadn’t ventured up to his own room. 

Not that you weren’t already hyper aware of his movements, fae hearing or no. 

The two of you had been the last ones left in the sitting room after everyone else had retired, talking until the embers of the fire were dying and even the faelights had begun to dim. And when you’d decided to turn in yourself, you’d bid Azriel goodnight and left him to bury his nose in the book you had bought him, his wings draped over the armchair he was curled up in. 

The hours had passed, and sleep had evaded you. You’d waited to hear the sounds of his feet climbing the stairs, the creak of his door opening, but—nothing. Maybe he’d fallen asleep reading. Or maybe he’d gone flying, as you knew he often did when he was too wired for rest.

Curiosity got the better of you. 

Before you could reason with yourself, you were slipping out of bed and shucking on a loose silk robe. You tried to be as silent as possible as you padded from the room and headed for the stairs. 

The rational part of your brain questioned why it even mattered to you that Azriel hadn’t retired to bed. He was just…your friend. Your older brother’s best friend. One of the few people who had been a constant in your life. 

But you’d undoubtedly been growing closer, nearing your twentieth year of life. You enjoyed his company — perhaps a bit more than anyone else’s — and you found yourself thinking about him, wondering what he was doing, in idle moments of quiet. 

Gods, you probably annoyed the hell out of him. He probably merely tolerated your clear attraction to him because he did care for you, because you were Rhys’s sister. Maybe he hadn’t stayed at the Town House at all, and had, in fact, wandered off into the night to get up to the Mother knew what. Maybe he’d secretly met with a lover you knew nothing about—

You stepped off the bottom stair, the heat of the fire still breathing through the sitting room and snaking out into the hallway. Through the gap in the door, you could just make out the dim winking of the faelights. And the dark figure hunched in the armchair, the shadows around him just as still. 

The bite of relief you felt was shameful. So he hadn’t wandered off for a secret rendezvous

Not that it was any of your business.

You gently pushed the door open, taking in the sight of his sleeping figure. His dark hair fell about his perfect face with his head angled back, the book you’d gifted him still open and pressed against his chest. His chest rose and fell steadily, gently. 

He looked so…peaceful. So rare, to see him so at ease, so vulnerable. Beautiful. Your heart thudded in your chest at the mere sight of him. 

You were almost as stealthy and as silent as him as you walked with careful steps, grabbing a thick throw from the back of the sofa and turning to him. Gently — as gently as you could, so as not to wake him — you eased the book from his hands. 

You’d barely turned to place it on the coffee table when one of those hands grabbed your wrist, and Azriel was shooting upright, going ramrod straight in the armchair. His eyes were blown wide, seeming to search for any potential threat, before they landed on you. 

“Hey,” You breathed, trying not to wince at the tight grip on your wrist. “It’s just me…”

Azriel blinked at you, his heavy breaths audible. It took him a moment to recognise his surroundings, to realise there was no danger — only then did his shoulders relax, his hand letting go of your wrist. 

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” You studied him cautiously. “I was just grabbing you a blanket…and putting your book down…”

Az rubbed his eyes, shifting in the armchair. He glanced at the blanket still in your hand. “Thank you. I didn’t—” He sat forward, “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

You slipped your hand behind your back. “No.”

“Let me see,” He reached for it, scarred fingers brushing yours. 

“Az, it’s fine—”

But he was already pulling your hand towards him, his eyes checking the delicate skin of your wrist for any indication that he’d been too rough. When he found no such thing, he seemed to relax even more. 

“Thank you—for the blanket.” He inclined his head, letting go of your hand. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep down here.”

“I figured—I mean…I was awake…and I didn’t hear you come upstairs. I was worried you were…cold.”

Gods, you wanted to kick yourself, to go running out of there and hide. It didn’t seem to matter how long you’d known him; speaking to Azriel, gazing at that gorgeous, chiselled face, turned you into a stumbling, stammering mess every time. 

He glanced up at you, his hazel eyes sweeping your face and meeting your gaze. You could feel yourself blushing underneath the intensity of his stare. You cleared your throat. 

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” You murmured, stepping back.

But he grabbed your wrist again. Gentler, this time. The touch feather-like, as though he was doing everything to tamp down on his own strength and be delicate with you. 

“Stay.”

You stared at him. Swallowed. Never…never had it been like this — whatever this was. He usually politely ignored your blushing, the way you stumbled and rambled like an idiot. Usually spoke to you like your clear attraction to him wasn’t a giant elephant in the room. 

But this — now — was different. Not in a way you could place a finger on. A strange tension shrouded the two of you, and it seemed to bring his shadows alive. You watched as they coiled around him and slowly reached out towards you. 

You blinked out of your thoughts. Tried to remember how to speak. “What.” Was all you blurted.

“Stay.” Azriel repeated quietly. “If you can’t sleep. We can talk.”

Oh. Oh. That was all this was. The two of you talked all the time, and he was just…thoughtful. Not wanting you to be alone while sleep was evading you, even though he’d been slumbering happily himself, moments before. Your thoughts ran away with you for a second there—

“I had fun at Rita’s the other night.” The words fell from your mouth unprompted.

Az’s lips twitched. “I noticed.”

Your cheeks burned with what felt like the heat of a thousand suns. Rhys finally relenting and letting you join the others for nights out in Velaris was a relatively new thing, and maybe you’d let a little too loose. Had a few too many drinks. 

“Was I embarrassing?” You grimaced. “That faerie wine is something else—”

“You weren’t embarrassing.” Azriel cut you off. “I liked it — watching you enjoy yourself.”

Your eyes flicked up to meet his. And his were…smouldering…fierce, as they bore into yours. A soft smile tugged at your lips. “I was hoping you would dance with me.”

“You weren’t short of offers. You didn’t need me wading in.”

“…You were the only one I wanted to dance with, though.”

Silence. Your candid admission was met with utter silence. Never had you been so…so forward. 

Your feelings for Az were undoubtedly blatant, but…they’d always been an elephant in the room. Something you tiptoed around and never openly acknowledged. 

Until now, clearly.

You met his eyes again. Found him just…staring. Staring deeply at you. He licked his lips and glanced down. 

“It’s late.” He said quietly. “We should both get to sleep.”

You pursed your lips, the dismissal stinging. “What happened to talking?”

“I think it’s best that we call it a night.” He swallowed. “Before we get ourselves into trouble.”

You frowned down at your hands. Trouble. Was that how he saw you? A fine line teetering on the edge of danger, of poor choices?

“I don’t see how we can get ourselves into trouble by talking.” You said. 

“You know what I’m talking about, Y/N. Get to bed before we forget ourselves—”

“I’m not a child, Azriel. I’m a grown female and I’m perfectly in control—”

“It’s not your control I’m worried about.”

You felt yourself falter. Go still. Because never…never had Az been forward like this. Not that you knew what he was saying, exactly. Your mind was more muddled than it ever had been. But it sounded a hell of a lot like…like maybe he—

“Just go to bed. Please.” He gritted out, his voice gravelly. “Before you say anything else that puts everything at risk.”

He must have read the hurt that stung your eyes. Perhaps that was why he lowered his gaze, refused to meet yours. And why he still didn’t look up as you rose to your feet. 

“Fine.” You rasped, pulling your thin robe around you. Suddenly, you felt colder than ever. “I’ll go to bed. I’m sorry if I ever made you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t.”

His response wasn’t a comfort. Nothing could stop the way your face burned and your eyes pricked with tears — tears of pure humiliation — as you strode to the door. 

But some slither of candour still remained inside you as you turned at the threshold, wanting — needing — to get rid of the truth in your mind. Your eyes landed on Azriel again. He hadn’t moved. 

“You know…” You said quietly. “One of those males I was dancing with asked me to go home with him tonight.”

The fact that you caught the slight shift of his body told you just how unguarded he currently was. He was usually impossible to get a read on, even after years and years of trying. But right then — in that moment — you glimpsed it. It was subtle, but…there. 

He seemed to correct himself as he bit out, “Well, perhaps you should have — gone home with him.”

A laugh void entirely of humour left your lips. And though the sensible thing would have been to leave the room and return to bed, before this — whatever this was — got out of hand…you shut the door, instead. Pressed your back against it as you faced him once more. 

“Is that what would make you feel so much better, Az? Is it what you want? For me to go around sleeping with any male who offers to buy me a dri—”

Your words died in your throat as he launched himself from his seat. With ridiculously big strides, he was in front of you in seconds, his hands slamming too loudly against the door, either side of your head.

“What I want,” he hissed, “is to strip you bare and fuck you until you’re hoarse.”

The slightest stagger of a breath escaped your lips, but that was about all you could manage. His body was so close to yours, so easy to reach out and touch—

“What I wanted,” he continued through gritted teeth, “was to march over to that male you were dancing with in Rita’s and rip his damn hands off. That is why I didn’t dance with you. Because I know what I fucking want, and it wouldn’t have stopped at just a dance.”

“No,” you breathed, “it wouldn’t have done.”

It was perhaps the boldest move you’d ever, ever made as you reached a hand up. You pulled Az’s head down towards yours, and pushing up on the tips of your toes, you pressed your lips together. 

The kiss you gave him was hungry — the kiss you’d thought about giving him for years and years. One that communicated everything you wanted him to know. That you saw him, wanted him, loved him. That you weren’t some fragile little thing for him to dance around. 

There was a split second before a growl was ripping from the depths of his chest. And then he was kissing you back, his hand coming up to tangle within the strands of your hair. He tipped your head back just slightly, his tongue teasing the seam of your mouth. 

“These fucking lips,” he groaned against you. “You have no idea how much I think about them.”

His words had you weak at the knees. “You like my lips?”

“Far more than is sensible.”

“Then why,” you kissed him quick, yanking him against you, “have you never kissed them before?”

He stopped. Held you still as he pulled back — not by much. Just enough to stare down at you. His eyes flickered down to your lips and then back up to meet yours. His tongue swiped over his mouth like he was lapping up the taste of you.

“You’re Rhys’s sister.” He said gruffly. “…But you’re also every single one of my fantasies.”

And fuck if those words didn’t set you on fire. You swallowed, staring up at him. You wanted to show him…to make him see just how much he was every one of your fantasies. 

How much you thought about this. Him. 

You maintained eye contact with him as you grabbed his hand, moving it to your breast. He swallowed hard, his eyes dipping down.

But you didn’t allow him to hover there. Still holding onto his hand, you dragged it down. Down your stomach. Down until it reached the hem of your nightdress. 

His fingers brushed the material, his eyes fluttering shut. It was the only barrier between him and your wetness. No underwear. Nothing to stop him brushing—

Those deft, brilliant fingers dipped beneath your nightgown, and you lifted your hips towards him. Until his hand was at the apex of your thighs. 

“Gods,” he whispered, “you’re soaked.”

“Yes.” You breathed. “This is what you do to me, Az. And I’d much prefer your hand to my own.”

Your words seemed to send a shudder through his body, and he hissed between his teeth as the pads of his fingers found your wetness. He cupped his hand over your sex, slicking himself with your juices. A gasp fell from your throat.

“Is this what you want?” Azriel asked you, his thumb inching up to rest on your clit. “There?”

You hissed, hips jerking, and Az smirked. But there was no chance for you to breathe another word — or another sound — as he dipped his head and lowered his mouth to yours once more.

His kiss was firm, bruising, as his thumb began slow, indolent circles on your clit, made all the more delicious by the scrape of his calluses. You heard yourself whimper against his lips, felt him smile at the sound. 

He broke the kiss, teeth grazing your lips. “And what else do you want?” 

The slight pressure he applied had your hips bucking again. “You,” you gasped. “Your fingers. You. Inside me.”

“Fuck, Y/N.”

His hazel eyes flared, and never had you seen them so burning, so vibrant, like your words awoke something in him. And his fingers…gods, his fingers were more skilled than you could ever have imagined. He’d done no more than rub at your clit, and already your legs were trembling. You grabbed his arm, steadying yourself.

“Please,” you pulled his head down to meet yours again. “I want you.”

With a growl, he was all over you, his lips clashing against yours as he slipped a finger inside you. The moan that escaped you was lost immediately in the huff of your heavy breathing, mingling and twining with his.

“If we do this,” Az breathed, pumping his finger, “there’s no going back.”

“Good.”

That was what you wanted. Him, in every which way possible. Against the door or the wall, or on the sofa or the floor, upstairs or downstairs—

Az seemed to read those very thoughts on your face, and with an animalistic noise that had you clenching around his fingers, he pulled his hand from between your legs and hoisted you up into his arms, locking you tightly around him.

He didn’t stumble with you far, tucking his wings in and perching you on the back of the sofa. He slotted himself between your thighs. And went still. Stared down at you.

“Y/N, I—” He cut himself off, swallowing. “I want — need — to know that you’re sure about this. This could change a lot….”

You’d spent so many years wanting him, craving him. Thinking about him and watching him. Knowing that he discreetly took lovers. Knowing that he was probably keenly aware of your feelings this whole time. The fact that he was even questioning your certainty seemed ludicrous…

And yet, it made your heart flip and thud. Because it was Az all over — caring and attentive. Loving. Always, always good.

You met his gaze. Raised one hand to cup his cheek. And used the other hand to reach for the buttons of his trousers. 

“I’ve never been more sure about anything.” You whispered, fingering the top button. “I’ve wanted you, Azriel, for a very, very long time.”

His eyes fell down to watch your fingers, and you could have sworn you heard his heart picking up and thudding. Heard a shuddered breath slip past his lips. 

And then he was kissing you once more. Soft. Slow. His hands gently rubbing your arms. He left enough space between you for you to undo every button. And you did.

And then you were shoving those trousers down to the floor. Watching his cock spring free. You found yourself gulping at the mere sight of him. 

All those jesting speculations you’d heard about wingspan correlating with the size of other body parts. It didn’t seem much like speculation to you. Az was thick…long…hard.

You wanted every inch of him inside you.

Slowly, you wrapped a hand around his cock — or tried to. Az hissed between his teeth, his eyes not once looking away. His hips jerked as you began to languidly pump his shaft, your thumb circling the head and mopping up the small pool of moisture that had gathered there.

“Gods,” Azriel choked. “No—no games.”

You hummed, trilling a soft laugh. “No?”

“No—I want to be inside you.”

You smirked, dipping your head. Your lips were inches from his cock as you flicked your eyes up to meet his. But he made no move to stop you. He merely watched, his chest heaving, as you poked your tongue out and swirled it around the head

He grunted, hips bucking. He seemed to be using every bit of his willpower not to thrust right into your mouth. No matter how much you wanted him to—

“No games,” he repeated, gently threading his fingers in your hair. “Wicked little thing.”

“You don’t want—”

“I want,” he pulled you up, kissing you quick, “you. I want you.”

Words you’d waited so, so long to hear, and they were as much of a song as you’d fantasised. For years. In the dead of night, with your hand between your legs. Or sometimes at sadder moments, when you’d cried and considered the possibility that Az would never, ever say such things to you. 

And yet here he was. Saying them. Sending a shiver coursing through you.

He cupped your face in both his hands, leaning down to brush his lips against yours. And he was so gentle, so tender. There was nothing but pure adoration in the delicate way he handled you.

Az took the reins from there, ruching your nightgown up around your waist. He kissed you again and again and again. As he hoisted your legs up around him. As he grabbed his cock in his hand and dragged it through your folds, slicking himself up with your wetness and giving a few slow strokes to your clit. 

As he aligned himself with your entrance and pushed in. 

Just the tip. Even that stretched you, had a bite of pain pinching you that was strangely pleasurable and had you gasping against Az’s mouth. His hips stilled, and he pulled back just enough to meet your eyes. 

“Want me to stop?” He whispered.

“No.” You immediately shook your head. “No. Keep going.”

A soft smile tugged at his lips, and he cupped the back of your head, threading his fingers within your hair. His lips found yours again as he pushed in a little further.

Stilled. 

Pain and pleasure. Pleasure and pain. It was heady and wonderful, and you didn’t know whether you wanted to kiss him or cry his name or touch him all over, all at once. 

A little further. He pulled out to the tip, pushing in again. Again.

He took his time allowing you to adjust. Allowing that pinch of pain to shift into full-fledged pleasure. And when finally — finally — he was pushed in to the hilt, he tore his mouth from yours and gazed at you.

The gaze was…gentle. Loving. Open. And you were more grateful for that than he could ever imagine. That he was willing to be open with you. Willing to bare himself like you were baring yourself.

And then he pulled out to the tip once more. And truly began to thrust. 

“You don’t even know,” Azriel gasped, hips rolling, “how much I think about you. How much I try not to. You’re always there — on my mind.”

You did know. Gods, you did. Az had been consuming you since you’d been capable of harbouring such feelings. He was everything. Absolutely everything—

“Gods, you feel so good around me.” He groaned. His rough hands grabbed at your hips, hoisting you up. 

The two of you were frenzied and unstoppable as he pounded into you, and it took every bit of control you possessed to keep your voices down, to maintain your moans and noises in hushed tones. 

But Az inside of you was like nothing else you’d ever felt. And as his thrusts picked up, his hips moving faster, harder, you became him and he became you. One unit of nothing but unbridled elation and pleasure.

You pulled him flush against you, your nails grazing his wings, and you felt his hips falter, his face burying the crook of your neck. You heard him whimper, the chanted “gods, gods, gods” as he slammed into you and reached between you to rub at your clit. 

You lost it, then, release an unforgiving force barrelling through every single part of your body. Your head fell back, and a cry tore through your throat that Az smothered with a hand, cupping his palm over your mouth as his thrusts, somehow, picked up even more.

“I can’t—” He choked, slamming his other hand against the sofa to steady himself. “Oh gods.”

That was all the warning you got before he thrust three more times, hard, fast, his skin slapping yours, before his hips staggered. And then he was coming deep inside you, huffing breathless moans and noises into your neck. 

He collapsed against you, and you held him, utterly spent and utterly blissful. There was something soothing in the heavy rise and fall of his chest against you – like you and he were the only two people left in the world. All other sounds and images and smells had melted away, and it was just you. You and Azriel. The way you had dreamed it one day would be.

You were surprised to find a tear rolling down your cheek as you cradled Az’s head to your neck, your eyes screwed shut and your fingers stroking his hair. He was everything to you; a ray of light amongst so many horrors. A reminder that there was still beauty in the world.

And maybe – you hoped – you could be that for him.

“I love you, Az.” You whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head. “I love you.”

Azriel’s body went still, rigid against you. His head jerked up, hazel eyes blown wide and meeting yours. He was undoubtedly a sight, with his tousled hair and flushed cheeks, his swollen lips.

He blinked at you, those swollen lips parting. “...What did you say?”

“I–”

But there was no chance for you to repeat the admission.

Not as the door flew open.

Az jerked away from you, yanking his trousers up. And you had the sense, somewhere in your roaring mind, to shimmy your nightgown back down.

It was all entirely pointless, though. If the sight of you both didn’t immediately give away what you’d just been doing, the smell of sex in the air certainly did.

And Cassian knew that, as he stood in the doorway, his hair mussed from sleep and just a low-waisted pair of lounge trousers hanging on his hips.

He stared between you and Az. Took in the sight of you both. Azriel cleared his throat, fastening the buttons on his trousers. Ran a hand through his hair for a good measure. You could practically feel the panic rolling off of him in waves.

But Cassian’s lips kicked into a smirk. He glanced between you once more.

“Well.” He snickered. “It would seem the two of you have had a happy Solstice, indeed.”

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

all acotar tags: @moonfawnx @writingsbychlo @moonlitcelestial @orangecreamsicle54 @saturnspoet0711 @andahugaroundtheneck @nightscourtt @mysticalcheesecakemiracle @luckypersonmentality @nobody00sthings @kristalhi @tencrushesperday @janzquu @we-were-beautiful @thewarriormoon @cirwin2013 @mrs-azriel @the-kwami-of-fandom-frustration @libraryofathousandstars @daily-dose-of-sass @pixiestix13 @basicbittywitty @simplefan-638 @highlady-ofillyria @false-desire-182 @fictionalcharacterlereasigim @theofficialmadman @kemillfreitas @sledgehammer21-1 @shannonsaid @jtargs @morelovemorepeacemoretattoo-blog @new-adventures-everyday @positivewitch @crushedcloudsx @cartoonnerdgirl @a-frog-with-a-laptop @ssmay123 @linduzmunna @ruler-of-hades @kennedy-brooke @peachyandmoon @ariaaira @topaz125 @blitz-fall @azrielsbbg @gracedarr @swagfreakathletemonger @sfhsgrad-blog @lo0oserlex @ruleroftides @mayabennett03 @vera0124 @mich0731 @balam-sen @luciensbxtch @holywolfsstuff @chloesgoneposts @margssstuff

#acotar #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #shadowsinger x reader #acotar fanfic #rhysand #mating bond #a court of thorns and roses #amren #morrigan #nesta #elain #cassian #feyre #azriel fluff #acotar fandom #acotar series #shadowsinger #spymaster #fluff #smut #azriel fic #azriel fanfic #sarah j maas #acotar headcanon #acotar smut #acotar fluff #acotar x reader

[fuckyeahgoodomensfanfic]

Good Omens Fic Rec: in the house we remain

Aziraphale buys a quiet cottage in the middle of the English countryside. It is perfect in every way: old-style, quaint, surrounded by wilderness, with a small water feature in the back and a price to rival that of any other property he's seen. He is in love from the moment he sees it. But when a mysterious set of books, all written by unknown author A.J. Crowley, appears on his book shelf, Aziraphale begins to wonder if there is perhaps more to this house than he'd originally believed. The truth can be buried, but it cannot stay hidden forever.

Length: 48,334 words

AO3 Rating: Mature / Spice Level 🔥

Best for: Mostly Safe in Public, At Home, Angst, Human AU

Triggers: Major Character Death

Read it here, fic by commodorecliche

*Minor Spoilers* It's almost frustrating that this story of Aziraphale falling in love with a ghost is one of the most gripping and beautiful stories I've read. It shouldn't work this well, it should be a crack idea. But this is such a powerful piece of fiction. It seamlessly blends romance with mystery and horror. Get your tissues, settle in, this one will haunt you.

Aziraphale has just moved to a cozy cottage in the countryside. If he's hearing things, feeling weird drafts, and noticing things out of place, well, that's just him settling in. Soon, there will be no denying the strange events, and it starts with a set of unpublished books written by an AJ Crowley. The previous, deceased, owner of the house.

This is heartbreaking. It's grief pools over everything. As Aziraphale learns more about the entity who haunts his cottage you will start to grieve as well. The way they begin to communicate was so thrilling and the softest romance. On one hand, we know they're soulmates and belong together despite any obstacle. On the other, it's a tragedy and horrifying. It's gorgeous and grotesque.

It's mostly safe in public, but an at home read for me. If you were destroyed by All of Us Strangers, I think you'll want to check this out. But mind the tags and warnings, there is graphic descriptions of death and major character death. Technically a happy ending? But that's a grey area in itself. I'd love to know how you guys feel about this ending actually

Read it here, fic by commodorecliche

P.S Spoilers under the cut because I want to scream about this story so come back once you've read this

I literally started crying when Aziraphale discovers what was tucked into the attic, the way Crowley was never appreciated as an author was so painful!! Crowley's death destroyed me!! The scene of the water splashing and Aziraphale trying to save him??? Only to come inside and see him?? THE ART???? This one has got me UNWELL.

But also what a horror! Aziraphale never experiencing a full life with Crowley, never knowing the physical touch of a person for what was it 40 years?? That's both romantic and devastating.

UGH I will never get over the scene of Aziraphale watching Adam discover his body. It made my blood run cold. And how Crowley had to watch over his decaying body as well. FUCK this one is so insanely good and how can I explain that to a normie? Hm? Yeah this human au of my blorbos falling in love even though one of them is a ghost literally had me crying screaming and throwing up and this is a normal thing for me

My views on the ending? I think I lean on the horror end of the scale. Yes they are together, but stuck watching over every new owner of the house, still never getting to experience a real life together

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #good omens fanfic #fanfic rec #aziracrow #good omens fic rec #aziraphale x crowley #in the house we remain #commodorecliche #faves of the blog #medium #one flame #at home #mostly safe in public #angst #major character death #writer au #author au #human au #heavy topics

[blorb-el]

Don’t know if you made a post on this but what’s your opinion on DCAU Clark and how unapproachable(?) they made him in the later JL/JLU series without ever resolving it? Like I know the Cadmus arc hinges on him never considering himself a possible threat but it seems there was room for no much introspection outside a couple moments (that were later backtracked).

I've had like 6 half finished posts about this buried deep in the drafts for a year because I have capital B Brain Rot about this, but every time I tried to write it out I got six sentences in and wanted to rewatch the entire DCAU in order to get my facts straight. This time I'm resisting the urge, so forgive me if I forget specific episodes

Also, unfortunately for you, it’s nanowrimo, which means my brain is in Type All The Words Mode, and not Communicate Effectively and Succinctly Mode, and also I need a break from WSBF chapter 8, so. You’re getting a 3.5k essay sort of answering this question but not really. you will see

Thank you to my fellow lawyer for the defense of Rectangle Clark @januariat for helping to put this together

I do rewatch STAS and JL a fair amount, but much less JLU, so I actually don’t have much to say about the specific execution there. I’m planning on rewatching it soon. But for now…

To me it boils down to two answers. The Doylist answer, and what I think the writers really did have in mind, is that they came up with the Cadmus plot, knew it was an absolute banger of a storyline, and decided that it was worth compromising Superman's personality in order to write a good story. which is not something I can fault them for - as a fanfic writer, I make the same calculated tradeoffs every time I set out to write a fic. Characters are tools for narrative, even if these particular characters come with an additional weight of the tradition of collaborative storytelling that their most effective stories honor.

However, I do think it’s possible to, post-hoc, cobble together a Watsonian, narratively satisfying (if fucked up and sad) character arc for DCAU Clark if you also take STAS and JL into account. I think the key to understanding his character arc is his relationship with control. Throughout STAS, JL, and JLU, and then one more time in Batman Beyond for good measure, over and over again, he's manipulated and his powers and body are used as resources for other people. Obviously that’s not much of an excuse for becoming more authoritarian/overbearing/etc, Fascism Is Bad and I personally think a more IC superman would retreat more than double down (as in Kingdom Come), but looking at the totality of things that have happened to him before Cadmus, it's a little more understandable why he'd get close to snapping under the strain. Here's my personal reading of his arc, and the events that might have led to Clark behaving so irrationally in JLU.

cut for sheer length, but also mentions of manipulation, sexual assault, victim blaming, that sort of thing

One of the recurring themes in the DCAU is villains dehumanizing, depowering, and/or manipulating Clark. In STAS, Parasite, Lex via Bizarro, Talia and Ra’s al Ghul use him as a source for their own power. The Preserver and Maxima treat him like some exotic prize, disregarding his wishes. Jax-Ur and Mala use him and then betray him. But the most impactful, by far, is Darkseid.

In Apokolips Now, Darkseid defeats Clark, puts his bleeding body into public stocks, and drags him through the middle of Metropolis. Clark’s only rescued by the last minute intervention of the New Gods, and as a parting shot Darkseid murders Clark’s friend in front of everyone. Even though Clark prevents Earth from turning into Apokolips, it’s a huge emotional loss, and they don’t shy away from showing his rage and helplessness. But it’s when Darkseid returns in Legacy, the finale of STAS, that Clark’s life truly takes a turn for the worse.

Forgive me if this is all plot recap to you, anon, but I feel like a lot of people don’t know that STAS ends with Clark being mind controlled, heavily implied to be sexually assaulted, and forced to try to take over the Earth, killing god knows how many people in the process. When the military finally brings him down with a Kryptonite warhead and imprisons him, they nearly kill Supergirl in the process. Then Lex almost gives him a lethal injection, with a US general looking on, implying that the government approves of killing him. Lois breaks him out, he tries to get help for Kara from Dr. Hamilton, and then goes to Apokolips. Most fights in STAS have him shrug off blows. He ends this one bleeding from his mouth, looking almost dead. When he finally casts down Darkseid, tells the Hunger Dogs (the slaves on Apokolips) that they’re free… they turn away from Superman. They cluster around Darkseid to protect and heal him.

Those universal truths of a lot of Superman stories, that goodness and liberty and the American Way* always win? They don't in STAS. A representative of the US government (as far as he knows) has tried to kill him. He lost his temper and spoke in a harsh tone of voice once, because Kara was dying and he was hurt and desperate, and now his friend Dr. Hamilton, the man he trusted to repair the Kryptonian ship, study his body and his powers, one of the people who knew him best in STAS, is afraid of him - and, as we find out later, takes immediate, drastic, and violating action against Kara and against him. The series ends with the small town man standing on the roof of the Planet, hearing people hate and fear him, wondering how people will ever trust him again.

*I hate this phrase personally when used as a Superman Motto, but it's used here as a contrast to the fascistic imagery of Apokolips Now and Legacy (as well as Brave New World, which, hoo boy, we aren’t even getting into that one).

Six months (iirc) after the STAS finale, in Secret Origins, the US government has agreed to let a visibly older and wearier Superman help disarm the nuclear stockpile - only for this to backfire on him because it was a Plot by the White Martians. Clark’s let down the country again. He’s helped aliens invade again, and to make matters worse, he sped away in the middle of an attack to break into an official government facility to free J'onn. Clark founds the Justice League beginning from a place of personal failure, as a check on himself. Clark has power and wants to help people with it, but he’s been turned against people he cares about, and has twice now failed to protect the world. It’s worth noting that Legacy put him into the world stage; before, in STAS, I can’t think of any true worldwide threats besides maybe Jax-Ur and Mala.

Most of the rest of season 1 of JL isn’t particularly Clark-focused, although he does appear in a lot of episodes, but the themes of some of these episodes are potentially relevant to understanding his character later, so: brief bullet point summaries.

During In Blackest Night, Clark sees his respected colleague turn himself into an authority that turns out to be incompetent investigators looking for a scapegoat. Interesting. Surrendering to governmental authority/oversight didn’t turn out too well here. 

During The Enemy Below, on Clark’s advice, Aquaman tries to solve his problems peacefully with diplomacy and is immediately shot in a life threatening assassination attempt.  Peaceful diplomacy doesn't work so well for him.

During Injustice for All, Lex is dying of cancer. Clark tries to reach out and is rebuffed, with Lex going on to try to found a team to kill him and the rest of the League.

During Paradise Lost, Clark sees his respected colleague turn herself into the authorities and immediately get banished from her home for the crime of trying to save it with all the resources she had at her disposal. Interesting. Surrendering to governmental authority/oversight didn’t turn out too well here, again. 

During War World, Clark’s again captured for exploitation. This is essentially a retread of The Main Man from STAS, doubling down on how some people see him as a thing to be exploited.

During Fury, Clark’s completely ineffective at preventing an attempted genocide of half the world’s population.

Season 2 opens with Twilight, one of the most important episodes for understanding Clark’s mindset during the Cadmus arc. Imagine, if you will, the above happening to you. Darkseid shows up at your workplace. And the man you’ve worked with the longest, your friend, your ally, tells you to cry him a river, build him a bridge, and get over it. Tells you to get over being brainwashed, manipulated, and humiliated. Tells you to get over having your broken and bleeding body paraded around the streets of Metropolis, tells you to get over having your friend killed in front of you for trying to defend you, tells you to get over almost getting your cousin killed. Sure, Brainiac is a planetary-scale threat; Darkseid and Apokolips are in real trouble. Clark was wrong to write off Apokolips and its people, and the League should absolutely have intervened in the situation. But the way Bruce went about it was… one of the harshest things DCAU Bruce has ever done, and one of the only times the narrative seems to actually agree that he was an asshole about it. And even then, you really need the context of STAS to understand why Clark is so furious and hurt in this scene.

Clark relents and goes along with Bruce’s plan to trust Darkseid, only to end up betrayed again, the whole ruse just another ploy for Brainiac to gain control of Clark, torture him, and use Clark’s body to upgrade himself. Clark had spared Darkseid back on Apokolips at the end of Legacy, on Kara’s advice. But now Darkseid’s come after him, again. Used him again to put not only Earth but who knows how many other worlds at risk, now that Brainiac’s even more powerful. It’s the downfall of Krypton, over and over again. And when Clark goes to end it, I think he doesn’t care that the base is about to go, as long as Darkseid goes down with it. That isn’t a price Bruce is willing to pay, so he teleports Clark out. And he’s wrong, again. “No one could have survived that.” Well… no, Bruce. Darkseid does, and Clark knows it.

During Tabula Rasa, Lex manipulates Amazo the exact way he tried to use Bizarro. Clark once again fails to guard against a terrible, potentially world-ending threat, and in fact makes the situation worse by his very presence.

Then we come to Only a Dream, another key episode in understanding this version of Superman. Clark’s deepest fear is that his powers will keep on growing beyond his ability to control them, eventually destroying everything around him. In his nightmare He kills Lois and Jimmy, destroys the Daily Planet, and grows into a brutish, hulking, clumsy figure, first crying out for someone to help him, and then losing hope. He doesn’t want to hurt anyone. He goes back to the Kent farm and curls up in the spaceship in the fetal position, convinced that he’s only going to hurt anyone who tries to help. Is it any wonder, since that’s literally what’s happened to him in Legacy? Is it any wonder that he’d want to give up, to retreat? If we’re to take the World of Cardboard speech literally, he’s already having to focus on this restraint every day, in every interaction. This is my personal explanation/hc as to why in every single fight he lets himself get knocked around a bit first; he’s calibrating how hard he can hit back without doing irrevocable damage. Anyway. Deeply fucked up 2 minutes of horror. Wish they’d explored this a little bit more in later seasons.

Then, directly after this, it’s A Better World. After we’ve just seen that his worst nightmare is hurting people by being unable to control his powers, we come face to face with a world where he’s hurt people by the precise and controlled application of his powers. Justice Lord Clark uses the same Superman Robots we saw Kara use in Legacy. He’s become quite adept at his lobotomization techniques. Later on in JLU, we see ‘our’ universe’s Clark attempt to lobotomize Doomsday the exact same way Justice Lord Superman did. Again, Clark fails to protect the world from himself, and to make matters worse, the guy to save the day is Lex Luthor. I’d be a little miffed if the maniac who wants to kill me so so bad turned out to be instrumental in saving the world and now I owe him some unspecified favor in the future. Clark’s met with failure and distrust trying to fix things his way, now he tries to do things in an uncharacteristically sneaky way and… gets met with more dislike and distrust.

Eclipsed continues this trend of hurting his friends; he’s temporarily mind controlled and hurts Wally.

In The Terror Beyond, he fucks up and puts the world in danger again, all because from his point of view, he tried to prevent Solomon Grundy being manipulated and used (like he himself has been used over and over again).

In Secret Society, his frustration comes to a peak, amplified by Grodd’s telepathic manipulation. He’s been trying to do his best, but he snaps that he’s had better luck fighting armies alone (dubious plural there, but he did pretty much evaporate an army in Legacy, so at least once, ok) and that he’s had to hold back his abilities in order to be on the League. Again if we take the World of Cardboard speech at face value, this is true, and we see it in the episode when he accidentally hurts Shayera with heat vision despite shouting a warning beforehand. It’s also telling how other members of the League have the ability to constantly voice doubts about its usefulness and cohesiveness as an organization (hi Bruce) but when he expresses the same doubts everyone gasps. When he expresses his doubt and frustration, when he steps away, the organization that’s collectively saved the world several times falls apart; they’re reliant on him, and he has to be aware of the entire existence of the League as an extra burden of responsibility.

Since both this episode and the Cadmus arc as a whole are meant to show his flaws as a leader, it’s worth examining the foundations of that leadership as established in the DCAU. Clark’s the leader of the League, but narratively, Bruce is its brains and its ethics and Wally is its heart. As a result, Clark is filling the role of leader of the League without the narrative scaffolding that gives him the respect comics incarnations of the character are generally accorded. (I’m admittedly only drawing here from the JLA runs I’ve personally read, Morrison/Porter 90’s JLA and the early Fox/Sekowsky 60’s JLA). Superman might not technically be the First Superhero according to these continuities, but he is respected as though he is (and as we comic book nerds know him to be). The League in these comics treat him as something of an ethical standard bearer, a primus inter pares, as well as being the muscle. In the DCAU, Batman, having founded the DCAU with BTAS, is the First Superhero, and the entire plotline of the Justice Lords centers Wally as the emotional anchor of the team. Clark doesn’t have that pre-established stature. What really qualifies him to be the leader, besides the fact that Bruce doesn’t want to do it? His position seems precarious, relying more on Superman’s pre-established reputation than his actual onscreen characterization. Centering Bruce and Wally are legitimate creative choices I don’t even necessarily disagree with, but it means Clark-as-leader functions quite differently than more traditional JL structures.

Hereafter is something of a healing point for him. It’s a little fucked up that Superman almost bashes Vandal Savage’s head in with a rock, but you take what you can get at this point. He comes out of it fine, but everyone else is forced to reckon with what he means to them. Hereafter coming directly after Secret Society is a very good reunification for the League. Shame about what’s gonna happen in three episodes.

In Wild Cards, he’s useful to address the immediate threat but ineffective to stop the real, countrywide (worldwide?) threat. (I should note that of course I don’t expect every episode’s threat to be solved by Clark; I’m just pointing out a trend that I think his character would perceive as failures on his part. If the writers ever let him reflect.)

JL ends as it began, with another massive alien invasion that Clark helped facilitate in Starcrossed, by working with the Thanagarians during the first part of their plan. As a fellow exile, a fellow alien, he’s hurt and angry with Shayera’s betrayal… even though, in the end, in probably one of his best moments, he votes to allow her to stay in the League.

(Sidenote: almost every interaction Clark has had with other aliens have been despotic societies or individuals: Jax-Ur and Mala, Apokolips, Maxima’s planet, War World, and now Thanagar. The Guardians built robotic police/foot soldiers to enforce their will. Even New Genesis is ruled by a benevolent dictator. Martian society is nearly extinct, overrun by… more alien despots, surviving only with J'onn. Argoan society is nearly extinct, surviving only with Kara. At least Lobo isn’t a fascist? Small consolation.)

JLU begins after a short time skip. I’m not as familiar with JLU episodes since it’s been a while since I’ve watched them, so I’m not going to attempt an episode-by-episode breakdown. Also this post is already way too long. But the point of this post is to look at Clark’s overall arc until this point, and see how it informs his decisions in JLU. For a more JLU-specific informed point of view check this post by januariat!

What we have is a man who naturally wants to take responsibility on his own shoulders, a doer and a fixer who wants to get into the ring and solve problems, who wants to use his abilities to help, being confronted over and over again with a string of personal failures, manipulation, and betrayal. When he tries to set a boundary about not being willing to help the man who took over his body and forced him against his home in Twilight, he’s told to get over it by his most trusted ally. When his deepest fears are revealed in Only a Dream, we see them having been already realized in Legacy. And when he’s presented with his dream of a peaceful life farming, a family that loves him, and no responsibility to save the world, it’s ripped away from him in For The Man Who Has Everything.

Ultimately, I don’t have a good answer for exactly how he doubles down in JLU S2, because I need to rewatch all of it with this understanding of the character. But I think you can see the shape of a traditional Superman character in there, trying and trying again and again to do the right thing, putting himself on the line - only instead of learning from his experiences and letting them inform his actions, he’s carrying the weight of years of suppressed trauma while trying to hold up the entire Justice League. This long, long run of failure, manipulation, betrayal, and distrust adds up. And there’s only so much weight one person can hold on their shoulders, even if they are a Superman.

(And then as the nice little capstone to his story, in Batman Beyond's The Call, he’s kept under alien mind control for years! With the way Starro clings to his chest, he probably hasn’t been touched in years! Trapped in his own mind, forced to watch as yet another alien species uses him as a tool to hurt his own teammates and invade the Earth! And that’s the last we see of DCAU Clark! What a fun little ending to his character arc that doesn’t make me go insane whenever I think about it. Very very very normal about this.)

#id in alt text #like i said. brainrot. i'm so normal about clark kent #you really do have to like. put this arc together in your own head though. they did NOT put this on screen. #long post #dc meta #DCAU #STAS #JL/JLU #clark kent #my fucking kingdom for a fic where j'onn helps him develop mental shielding against mind control. and also gets him therapy. one day #my writing #<fuck it. putting it in the writing tag so i can find it again #thanks for the ask :^)

[starg1rlie]

𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 ㅤㅤPROLOGUE: The Baby | (MLIST)

⟡ rating. slight romance + angst ( adolescent audience )

⟡ summary. ( the re-written version of "better late than never" is finally here! i know some people have asked about it, since i've deleted it but it's BACK NOW!! ) not all fairy tales end in a happily-ever-after. take (Y/N) and ajax for example; they had the love story of a lifetime and yet it's now all water under the bridge. ten years after the two of them split up, it was suggested that (Y/N) spend a summer vacation over in snezhnaya to give their son and the father some time to bond together and enjoy a relaxing break. however, that's easier said than done.

notes. you have no idea how long this post has been sitting in my drafts, oml. hey, yep, this is leo here, formerly known online as tarluscious (or, leo, as my moots know me), here to talk a bit about the remake of this delightful series. ever since i started publishing more and more chapters of this series back when it was still a "fly by the seat of my pants" project, i wasn't happy with the final results. i mean, hell, who's ever happy with the first attempt? and i've been meaning to re-write this series for so long, but i never found the time to. when i took my hiatus a couple of months ago, i was a little sad that i wouldn't get the chance to write BLTN over again. however, my friend, who now runs this blog (hyokkun) with me, suggested that they might re-write it, and we came to a happy conclusion that the both of us should work on this project together. so here we are, with the prologue. yayy. just wanted to say that what this means is, hyokkun has added their own inputs into this series, while i, leo, am the main author of it. so, all that being said, i hope you thoroughly enjoy this re-written version. please note that some things may be different from the last time you've read this series, and that's because changes has been made to fit the new plot accordingly. reblogs and likes are appreciated ! | wc. 1,542 words ( 8,566 characters )

⟡ feat. childe / tartaglia x female! reader ( she / her pronouns are used )

ㅤㅤA cry split through the peaceful silence of the hospital. A baby, swaddled in warm, cuddly blankets had begun wailing, even though he was cradled within the arms of his mother. He kept bawling, even as the mother hummed a lullaby, even as she rocked him back and forth in her arms, even as she cupped one side of his delicate face and whispered 'It's going to be okay' over and over again.

ㅤㅤA new wave of sickness passed over (Y/N) as she stared down at her stomach, imagining what it would be like bigger, pondering over the process it takes for a baby to develop within her. It both simultaneously intrigued and terrfied her. She couldn't imagine popping out a baby from her unmentionables, let alone having it stuck in her womb for months. Yet as she began to wonder, a new question came into light: would she give up this baby? Could she?

ㅤㅤPeople say that you don't really have a choice when you're young; no one's capable of raising a child when they're barely just a young adult, and yet, she could name a few people she knew right off the bat who were doing just fine with parenting. But the real question was if she was ready for this. Be it ready to give it up or ready to endure the consequences, it didn't matter. She just had to know for sure if she was ready.

ㅤㅤShe still remembered the conversation that had went down only a few weeks ago. She refers to it as a 'discussion', but really, it was a full-out argument....A migraine had formed underneath her temple and had buried its heels in deep, causing a resonating pounding to echo within her head, messing with her already tangled up thoughts. And yet, that day's memories remained untouched. If anything, it was tugged free of the mess and pulled into the light.

ㅤㅤ"What the fuck? What the fuck?"

ㅤㅤ"Saying 'what the fuck' over and over again isn't going to make the situation anymore better than it already is, Ajax," (Y/N) interrupted, breathing out a slightly exasperated sigh. She'd been scared out of mind about telling her boyfriend about the news and this was exactly why: he'd take it badly. He always took life-changing news badly, unless it involved travelling, free food, or money. She'd grown used to his childish behaviour ever since the two started going out, but right now was not the time to act like a child.

ㅤㅤ"Then what will make this better? Huh? Please elaborate on that for me," Ajax replied sarcastically, throwing his hands up in the air. He'd been pacing for the past five minutes since (Y/N) had spilled the beans about her pregnancy. Anymore pacing and he'd pace a trench right through their apartment floor. "Because I really don't understand how anything can make this better."

ㅤㅤ"Oh, I don't know, maybe the fact that you're going to be a father? Haven't you been going on and on about wanting to have a son one day?" (Y/N) retorted, patience fizzling.

ㅤㅤ"When I'm thirty, not twenty-four!"

ㅤㅤ"What's a few years early? If anything, you'd get your dream quicker," she mumbled under her breath, absentmindedly flipping through the channels on the cable.

ㅤㅤAjax leapt forward and snatched the remote out of her hands, slamming it roughly onto the glossy surface of their coffee table, one that he'd insisted he put together himself, even though the table had come from IKEA, and he knew nothing on how to read instructions in Swedish. That little memory caused a tiny pang to go through her heart, enough to make it ache just a little bit. Please, she prayed, please let us get through this together.

ㅤㅤ"You're not listening! Do you honestly think that I'm ready for this? That you're ready for this? We're still in college for God's sake, do you expect us to be whizzes at parenthood?"

ㅤㅤ(Y/N) barely managed to withhold a snort at his sarcasm, but politely shook her head. She knew deep down inside that she wasn't ready to be a mother, let alone have a child at such a young age. What would her friends think? What would her parents think?

ㅤㅤ"What, then, I 'spose you expect us to waltz right in and get comfortable in our positions as parents, right? We'll be fine, so long as we manage to balance a baby into our already hectic and crazy lives, right? Just plop it right in between work and college and paying bills, hm?"

ㅤㅤ"Right," she repeated.

ㅤㅤAjax paused his pacing for a moment. "Do you understand the concept of sarcasm?" he asked incredulously.

ㅤㅤ(Y/N) went silent, seemingly contemplating whether she'd been too hasty to cast in her answer earlier.

ㅤㅤ"Whatever. It doesn't matter." His jaw tensed and for a moment, he looked as though he might punch something. Not (Y/N), heavens no, but something. Possibly the fridge (poor thing; it never did anything to deserve this sort of abuse). "What matters is that you're pregnant and we're still in college. We're students, we can barely make it past out deadlines, let alone manage a child." He sounded almost tired, and for the first time in a while, she just now noticed the bags under his eyes, and the tired croak to his voice, taking the place of the usual charming lilt he normally had. How many times had she come home from her part-time job at the laundromat to see him passed out on the exact same coffee table they were currently in front of, drooling all over his calculus homework? How many times had she come back from her lectures to find a pristine sink and an empty fridge? Ajax was incredibly vain and conscious about his self-image, that he took great lengths to make himself look presentable each day. But ever since his senior year in college started, his schedue started going downhill and he never had the time to do any of the things he normally did to take care of his body. He hadn't eaten proper food for days, and has been liviing off of coffee (and her fancy vanilla oatmilk creamer) and Doritos for God knows how long.

ㅤㅤ"What are we going to do?" (Y/N) asked finally, voice timid and quiet, as if anything louder might break the fragility of this scene.

ㅤㅤWhen Ajax looked up, she had expected his face to be sad, almost regretful for saying such things about the situation, but instead she found his gaze hard and penetrating, almost menacing. "We can't look after a baby right now, (Y/N), you know that."

ㅤㅤAnd the truth was, she did know it. She just chose not to believe it. But the way he worded it, the way he said it, seemed to hint at something. Something that made waves of nausea roll through the pits of her stomach.

ㅤㅤ"You're not suggesting...."

ㅤㅤ"An abortion," Ajax finished quietly, gaze trained on a coffee stain on the carpet.

ㅤㅤ"Ajax, no. No. We can't give the baby up before we've even tried. That's just cruel. This is your child, possibly the son you said you wanted, and you're just going to throw him away? Let him die before he gets a chance to play on a soccer team, like you did? Before he even gets a chance to see the two people who made him?" Your voice broke at those last few words and before you knew it, tears were streaming down your face in thick, wet trails. "You might be giving up on him, but I'm never letting go."

ㅤㅤAjax inhaled sharply, air hissing through clenched teeth as he breathed out. "We aren't ready for this, (Y/N)."

ㅤㅤ She knew he was right. She knew it in her heart and in her brain. But some part of her wanted to keep this unborn baby that was developing within her stomach right now. Some part of her wanted to know the happiness of being a parent, a mother.

ㅤㅤShe didn't want to follow through with this. She didn't want to let the baby die. And yet...

ㅤㅤ"Miss (L/N)? You can come in now. Dr. Li's ready for you," a voice called, interrupting (Y/N)'s train of thought. She looked up, one hand resting on her tummy, the other clenched around a cell phone. The screen was still on, a barrage of messages (most likely from her family and friends) lighting up the screen with soft 'pings'.

ㅤㅤShe breathed in deeply, exhaling slowly, a breathing trick she'd learned from online to calm her nerves down.

ㅤㅤFinally, she spoke.

ㅤㅤ"Ah, sorry. I'm afraid I've changed my mind. If it's alright with you, I'll be canceling my appointment."

ㅤㅤThe nurse hesitated for a moment before nodding along. She obviously was not paid enough to barge into patients' lives, so she (wisely) kept her nose in her own business. "Of course, miss. I'll let him know you'll be leaving. Have a lovely rest of your day."

ㅤㅤ(Y/N) nodded along before waddling out of the waiting room, feeling giddy and deliriously light from the weight that had just been lifted from her shoulders. Ajax would be upset over this, yes, but it would be worth it. She could feel it in her bones.

📮 tagging. @kiryoutann, @ajaxstar, @mobiussdarling, @samarill, @dinolvrrr, @messyserver, @xxfrostiee, @enviouspeanut, @ehddsnys, @maaarshieee, @dazaiscum, @mochicurls21, @shinobuko, @iiyumii, @meiraloves2dmen, @retiredmommylover, @electronicphilosopherflower. if your user is highlighted in BOLD that means your current URL does not match the one you inputted in the form. fill out this form if you want to be tagged

#( ﾉ ﾟｰﾟ)ﾉ leeo writes! #[ 🍰 ] 𝙗𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙙 ; completed works ( hyo - kun ! ) #genshin impact #childe x reader #childe x y/n #childe x you #childe genshin impact #ajax genshin impact #tartaglia genshin impact #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia x y/n #tartaglia x you #ajax x reader #ajax x y/n #ajax x you #childe angst #genshin x reader #genshin angst #genshin fic #genshin au #genshin fanfic

[uchihabbynic]

Imagine: You and your childhood best friend, Ichigo Kurosaki have a situation-ship and you’re dying to know the dreaded yet infamous question... what are we?

Pairing: Ichigo Kurosaki x Fem! Reader

Content: eventual smut (18+ content), vaginal sex, fingering, lots of kissing, cavity inducing fluff, fluff and more fluff! wholesome date night at home w/ Ichi, references drug use/smoking, best friends to lovers obvi <3

a/n: my first ever Bleach fic! This was super self-indulgent and has been sitting in my drafts for months. There’s not enough Ichigo content on this app so I needed to show my ginger boy some love 🧡 

You and Ichigo stood side by side in your bathroom, heads leaned over in your respective porcelain bowls, rinsing away the white cleansing foam from your faces as your hips swayed from side to side to the deafening bass coming from your Alexa speaker from your bedroom. “Drizzy Draco” blared so obnoxiously loud, your neighbors definitely hated you. 

“Remind me again why I have this ridiculous thing on my head?” The Kurosaki scowled and pointed at the fuzzy white cat ear headband that was expertly pushing back his messy pile of long tangerine locks. He grabbed a nearby towel, wiping his face and turned to face you; arm resting on the white countertop. 

You chuckled, still swaying to the music, now wiping your own face dry; reaching for the small black circular container of your favorite Rosy Cheeks face mask. 

“Because. You’re the prettiest kitty I've ever seen.” you taunted and stuck your tongue out in jest, reaching out to pinch his cheeks that were burning red to which he swatted you away. 

“Shut up.” Ichigo playfully pushed your shoulder back, his orange brows still furrowed together. 

Laughter erupted from your throat. “It’s actually to keep your hair out of your face, silly.” 

Teasing Ichigo had been a favorite pastime of yours for many years and God, he was so easy to fuck with. 

“Also - can we turn this shitty music off?” Ichigo groaned, shuffling to the bedroom to find the “off” button on your speaker to which you followed quickly behind him rolling your eyes at your pretty, yet dramatic grumpy boy. 

“Damn. Put the claws away, kitty.” you retorted to the redhead who then glared at you, unamused. Truthfully? He loved your teasing. He loved everything about you even when you were giving him a hard time.

“Hey Alexa. Next song.” you commanded to the small white device to which it began playing a tune by The Weeknd you quite loved; Die For You.

“There. Much more chill.” Ichigo said, breathing a sigh of relief as he followed you back into your bathroom and rested his backside on the counter. “What next, y/n?” he inquired.

“Close your eyes.” 

One brow rose as Ichigo carefully eyed you, suspicious of what kind of antics  you were up to. You caught a sense of his apprehension as you took a step closer to him, just barely closing the gap between your body and his. 

You huffed. “Do you trust me?” you asked, slightly frustrated, crossing your arms over your chest, pushing your cleavage together that was once hidden and buried deep within the cotton oversized shirt you wore. 

Ichigo parted his lips to respond when he paused momentarily; his eyes quickly averting down to the now prominent curvature of your breasts - his Adam's Apple bobbed as he swallowed harder than usual; he felt his cheeks burn once again, painting his tanned skin a pretty shade of scarlet as your warm breath tickled his neck.

“Mhm.” he mumbled as he shifted his eyes literally anywhere else but your chest. A sense of embarrassment washed over him as he awkwardly tried to clear his throat. If he could crawl out of his own skin, he would’ve as he sat patiently awaiting your response, hoping you didn't notice his indecent looks at your figure. 

You and Ichigo had gone on plenty of dates over the past 3 months thanks to the help of Rukia, Yuzu and Karen who bullied him into growing a pair and finally asking you out after all these years but from very early on in your romantic relationship, the two of you had never taken it to a level past heavy make out sessions and even that only recently became a semi-regular occurrence. 

Ichigo wasn’t inexperienced in this department, but you were always his friend before his lover so the idea of the two of you pushing the boundaries and going further than the innocence of kissing had always been an overwhelming thought, to say the least.

“Great, so eyes closed Kurosaki.” you demanded once more, voice slightly raised. You stuck your finger into the black container scooping out the baby pink mud and slathering it across Ichigo’s cheek. The moment that the thick, chilled cream slid across his face, his tall figure jolted in shock feeling the unexpected coolness on his skin.

“What the hell is this, woman?” He cried, trying his best to stay calm. He peeked one eye open only to be greeted by your grinning face and a finger covered in a pink substance that he wasn't familiar with, although he very much enjoyed the scent. His heart skipped a beat to see how much you were enjoying yourself. He was a sucker for your smile, after all. 

Ichigo was the CEO of acting perpetually bothered by anything he didn’t deem to be “cool” but deep down, he ate it up. Every weird quirk, every goofy activity you begged and pulled him into - he was secretly going to enjoy every moment because he got to be in your presence. His favorite place to be. 

“A face mask, stupid.” you playfully snapped back as you continued to smear the cream all over his face, careful to not get any product in the random tufts of orange hair peeking out from the headband.

 “It’ll make your skin feel calm & soothed.”

“Hmpf.” Ichigo decided against any further snarky comments and finally fell in line with the evening's activities. He stood with his body relaxed against the countertops, his legs slightly spread allowing just enough room for your body to fit between them as you finished his face mask and began working on your own. 

Ichigo watched you intently as you spread the mud over your own face. He couldn’t help but crack a smile at how adorable you looked with your sunshine yellow headband with matching cat ears, similar to his own. 

She’s so pretty like this, she has no idea.

Thoughts of fondness swirled his brain as he admired your every move. Every drip of pink mud you dropped into the sink, every hand motion, every shake of the head to adjust your hair from getting caught in the sticky face product, he adored. 

You caught a glimpse of those gorgeous chocolatey eyes that were filled with warmth and admiration as you noticed that Ichigo was unbelievably focused on you doing something so simple. So regular.

“Ichi...” you began, turning your head to face the ginger. “What are you staring at?”

Shit. I must’ve zoned out. 

“Uhh. zoned out, I guess.” he shrugged and tried to play it cool, dropping his head to the floor cursing at himself that he missed a perfectly good opportunity to compliment you; to tell you how beautiful you are with your t-shirt that fits way too big and your messy hair that sat atop your head. 

He could have said literally anything else but choked, as words of affirmation had never been his strong suit and proclaiming his feelings? Forget about it. The vulnerability of pouring out his heart made his skin crawl but lately he had been trying to be more vocal about how he really felt for you, slowly but surely. He decided that he would merely try, for you.

“Well, can you go get the snacks Strawberry head?” you laughed, inspecting yourself in the large mirror in front of you, brushing off the sudden nervous energy Kurosaki was giving off. 

Ichigo blushed at the nickname that he pretended to hate but secretly loved and left towards the kitchen to hunt for the endless amount of snacks you always had stocked in your pantry. As he passed behind the couch, he caught a glimpse of comforters and pillows littering the living room floor where the two of you would be spending the remainder of the evening. He had the idea to turn the random pile of sheets into a fortress, grabbing nearby chairs and any items he could find that would provide a stable base for the pillow fort he dreamt up. 

You rinsed your face after letting the mask sit for another few minutes and began slathering on an array of serums and liquids to regain moisture in your skin; a step you knew Ichigo wouldn’t have the patience for. You massaged your go-to night cream into your supple skin and tore off the headband - quickly brushing through the hair that had already begun to tangle being in a high bun for so long. 

After completing your bedtime routine, you popped your head out of your bedroom to find a pink, crackly faced Ichigo who A. had rearranged and tore your living room to pieces and B. Let his face mask sit way too long.

“A pillow fort?!” you gasped and clapped with delight as you approached the mountain of blankets that Ichi had intricately sprawled across the living space. Ichigo walked over to you with a grin, proud of what he’d done. This was something that the two of you used to do together as kids, so it made the gesture that much more special.

“I figured it’d make you smile.” Ichigo expressed, leaning down to plant a quick kiss on your cheek, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling your body close to his. He observed the way you routinely scrunched your nose whenever you got excited and he swore his heart momentarily stopped. 

“Ichi… It’s perfect.” You tightly gripping Ichigo’s hip bone allowing your body to melt into his as you stood back admiring his work. 

You gave Kurosaki all the praises for his cute gesture before telling him the mask had run its course and that he needed to rinse it off. As you made yourself comfortable inside the cavern of blankets, you mindlessly scrolled through Netflix trying to find a movie to put on while shoving pretzel sticks into your mouth, awaiting Ichigo’s return. 

Ichigo had eventually walked back into the living room where you resided, dropping to his hands and knees, careful to not let his tall stature drag the whole fort down with him, doing his best to settle himself comfortably next to you. 

Your eyes were so fixated on the TV screen that it hadn’t occurred to you that you were now perched beside a half naked Ichigo who was only still wearing cotton sweat shorts but no shirt. Your mouth slightly dropped open in shock as you sharply inhaled, sending your half eaten food down your throat. You sputtered and coughed trying to regulate your breathing. 

“Dammit! Are you alright?!” he exclaimed, tossing you a bottle of unopened water and gently patting your back, those yummy muscles flexing with every movement. You quickly gulped the liquid, thankful that you were finally able to catch your breath.

“This sexy bastard. He knows exactly what he’s doing.” You thought to yourself as you feast your eyes on a shirtless Ichigo. His rippling 6 pack laid out on his wonderfully sun kissed skin and those damn sweat shorts that hung teasingly low off his hips made you lightheaded. You were sure you’d caught a glimpse of his dick print and you could feel your pussy slightly spasm on its own accord. 

“Y-yeah. I’m fine.” you stuttered, nonchalantly wiping your sweaty palms on the comforter beneath you, still in shock that your best friend had developed into a fine ass grown man. 

Seeing Ichigo this way stirred something new in you. A longing. A feeling within the depths of your loins that you’d never experienced before, at least - not for him. You lusted for him. You wanted his strong hands to explore and glide across every bit of your feverish skin not leaving a single place untouched. You wanted to experience all of him; mind, body and spirit. You were suddenly aching to see what was hiding underneath the fabric that adorned his sculpted body. The man who’d previously stood in your bathroom with goofy cat ears on his head is now sitting before you looking like a fiery Greek God. 

“What movie, babe?” The redhead casually asked, scooting closer to you on the blanket, shoulder nudging you out of your thoughts; his thumb resting on the Hulu button on the remote. 

“Mmm, do you really wanna watch a movie, Kurosaki?” you purred right next to his ear, causing his face to flush - caught off guard but quick to catch onto your tempting suggestion to do something a little more interesting. 

You slid your body in front of Ichigo’s, completely blocking the view of the TV and leaned in mere inches to his face, causing him to drop the remote, not expecting the sudden closeness. 

“Isn’t there something else you’d enjoy a bit more?” you teased, attaching your lips to his, giving a quick peck without allowing him a chance to respond to your requests. 

“Sure is.” he agreed, reaching for your waist and hoisting your upper body from the floor and onto his lap. The way he manspreads in his shorts allowed plenty of space for that ass that he loved so much to settle right on top of his manhood.

 “-But i could show you better than I could tell you.” he smirked, digging his fingers into your flesh.

Your legs were spread on either side of his muscular thighs, feeling the tickle of his wispy strawberry blonde hairs on your own silky smooth legs as you slinked your arms around his neck and reattached your lips to his. Ichigo wrapped his long arms around your midsection pulling you close to his chest as you swiped across his lips to gain access to his sweet mouth.

You ran your fingers along his bare chest and began slowly gyrating your hips while sat perched on top of his lap, pushing your ass further into the now growing bulge in his shorts causing him to swiftly inhale at the pressure on his cock. Your heart beat faster as you deepened the kiss; your tongues swirled each other as if in a dance for dominance, tasting every bit of the cool mintiness that lived in Ichigo’s mouth and consumed his every breath.

You felt his dick twitch within the confines of the fabric underneath you causing you to grip onto his neck much tighter than before. A deep, raspy chuckle left his mouth, but he didn’t say a word and let his actions speak for themselves. Ichigo dipped his head down and pressed his warm mouth to your collarbone, peppering delicate kisses across the tender area, evoking a series of quiet whimpers to fall from your lips. 

That was it. That spot was all you needed. Little did he know, collarbone kisses were your weakness and goddamn, were you putty in this man's strong hands.

Your fingers grew impatient and jittery, immediately finding their way to the waistband of his gray sweat shorts, boldly tugging; eager to pull his cock out in all its glory. The rush of it all quickly sent you into a spiral without a second to think, however; Ichigo instantly gripped your wrist as your fingers were already hooked deep into his shorts. 

“We don’t… have to.” Ichigo assured you as he tried to calm his now erratic breathing. His crimson hair just barely shaded those gorgeous eyes that were now staring deeply into your own; full of concern. He wanted you so badly. He had fantasized about this moment with you for far longer than he’d like to admit but wanted to be sure you weren’t feeling any pressure to take things further. 

“Please, Ichi… I need you.” The certainty in your voice was enough to cause Ichigo to slide his shorts down to his ankles, freeing his massive cock from the fabric. 

Your eyes grew wide as your gaze was fixated on the girth, the length, the precum that pooled at the red tip. You were so enamored, you could have swore that drool had formed in the corners of your mouth. You quickly threw your t-shirt over your head causing your breasts to fall freely out and slipped your own shorts off as you settled your head on a nearby pillow. 

“Fuck, you’re absolutely beautiful.” he breathed out, lust filled eyes blown wide as he towered over you perched on his knees. He couldn’t believe the wonderful view he had; your naked figure fully exposed - ready for him. He noticed the glistening slick that pooled between your legs and he beamed at himself, proud that he’d already gotten you to that point without having barely done a thing. 

You smiled and reached up, tangling your fingers into his messy tangerine hair pulling his body close to yours until he was fully on top of you, planting another sweet kiss on your lips before pulling away to admire you once more. He reached down and swiped a finger along your wet folds, causing you to whimper and shudder underneath him. 

“You’re already so wet for me, goddamn.” he mumbled. His chest burned and felt as if it was going to cave in. His dick was rock hard and throbbing and Ichigo needed you to be writhing and screaming his name the way he’d imagined in his dreams.

“Please… more.” you moaned in response to his fingers exploring your heat already beginning to clench around him. He plunged 2 digits deep inside of you feeling your juices coat his knuckles, eager to loosen you up for his cock. 

Your mouth hung open causing your throat to go dry and hoarse as Ichigo continued to sink his fingers inside your pussy. He leaned up and attached his warm mouth to your larger breast, skillfully sucking and flicking his tongue over the sensitive bud, letting the melodic sounds of your moans fill his ear. 

That night, Ichigo had taken you to heaven when he stuffed you full of his thick cock, whispering sweet nothings in your ear about how much he’s needed you and how much you mean to him with a dash of naughty praise. 

“You. feel. S-so good. y/n.” Ichigo whined in between each thrust; his shaky breath an indicator that he was close to his climax. Ichi was lost in bliss, stuffed between your luscious thighs, savoring the feeling of his cock dragging in and out of your gushy walls. Absolutely nothing felt better to him than being inside of you. 

As you repeatedly called out for him, your lover took you higher and higher in ecstasy. When Ichigo’s eyes weren’t screwed shut from the intense waves of pleasure that crashed into his body one after the other, he shyly made eye contact with you through the last few thrusts he could muster. It was all too overwhelming and you were absolutely stunning.

 In your final moments together, the air was filled with the sounds of his heavy balls slapping your ass and sensual chants of his name alongside a slew of curses. His orange hair clung messily to his forehead as he pumped at a steady rhythm, giving it everything he’s got; feeling his red, swollen tip kiss your cervix. Your toes curled as you cried out Ichigo’s name for a final time, letting your body melt into the mound of pillows beneath you as your orgasm hit you, clawing mercilessly at Ichigo’s back, creating red welts that were certain to scar. 

The ginger soon pulled out; his pretty flushed face contorted and immediately spilled his seed onto your tummy, labored pants and a moan of your name accompanied his climax before placing a gentle kiss on your lips - getting lost in your natural aroma before collapsing breathlessly next to you. 

There was a comfortable silence between you and Ichigo as you redressed yourself by slipping into his large distressed tee. What could you say? You’d been casually dating your childhood best friend for the last few months and now you’d crossed a huge line in your relationship without knowing exactly “what you were”. It was confusing to say the least. You called each other pet names, gave sweet kisses to one another, went on dates… all the things - but the newfound added complication in your “relationship” is one that made your head begin to hurt trying to figure it out. You needed a smoke to clear your mind but it almost felt like there was nothing that could pull you from the depths of your thoughts, replaying the erotic scene that just occurred in your living room.

 Hues of white and gold twinkled brightly as they hung methodically on the wooden banister of your balcony illuminating the space that was otherwise consumed by darkness. You stared out into the distance trying to make sense of everything until a tall figure standing in the doorway startled you back into reality. 

“Mind if I join you?” Ichigo asked hesitantly after clearing his throat. He leaned against the balcony doorway awaiting your response, slightly fidgety. It was evident that this was heavy on his mind as well yet he couldn’t find the right words to say. 

Your smile was warm and inviting when you said, “Sure.” and motioned for him to sit in the wooden chair next to yours. The lighter you’d been clutching had flicked on as you held the pre rolled joint up to your mouth, carefully cupping the flame to light the stick. 

“So-”

Both you and Ichigo speak at the exact same time. A giggle erupted from your throat at the slightly awkward start of your conversation. Ichigo’s face immediately turned beet red therefore, he was thankful that his blush went unnoticed in the surrounding darkness. 

“You go first-” he began, nervously scratching the back of his orange locks.

“No, you-” you laughed and nudged his shoulder as you took a drag from the joint and blew the smoke in the opposite direction of your…. Boyfriend? 

“I uh, got you somethin’” The Kurosaki reached inside his hoodie pocket and pulled out a velvet blue box. He was never one for flashy gifts but taking your relationship to the next level meant showing up in ways he never had before. Ichigo’s hand shook violently as he revealed the special keepsake and presented it to you. 

Your eyes sparkled as you reached out to grab the box before slowly opening it. A hot tear pricked your eye as you saw a dainty silver chain with a heart locket hanging heavily on the end.

“Ichigo, you shouldn’t have.” your voice trembled as you inspected the adorable gift. Your heart swelled seeing a black and white photo booth picture of you and Ichigo being silly together a few months back. It was the first date you’d been on as a couple and the very first time you’d ever kissed so you deeply appreciated its sentimental value. 

“Thanks, Ichi. It’s perfect.” you say sweetly to which he leans over and kisses your temple. You immediately pushed your hair out of the way to allow the new keepsake to be clasped around your neck. You paused, clutching the jewel and holding it close to your chest as you stole a peek at Ichigo who was now blushing profusely. 

“Rukia says a way to a woman’s heart is to be more thoughtful, so…” The red head trailed off. Your heart leapt. Ichigo was such a gem and because you valued him as a figure in your life, you decided to proceed with caution. 

“You already have my heart, Ichigo… you should know that.” You said gently, reaching over to link your fingers with his trembling ones. 

“Do I?” he questioned, gripping your hand for dear life - ignoring the clamminess building from his nerves. “This is still all so new to me…” 

“Of course you do.” you replied, now shifting in your seat to directly face him. 

“But I have to wonder, what are we…? You held your breath as your joint found the ashtray; fiery embers floating away from the stick before taking another hit. 

The forwardness of your question caught Ichigo off guard as he is never one to confront his feelings head on but he could hear the confusion… the brokenness in your voice and felt that he owed it to you - just this once, to muster the strength to be honest with you and lay it all out there. 

“You’re my best friend, y/n. The person I trust the most.” Ichigo’s chocolate eyes now bore into your own as he gave you every bit of his attention, still clinging onto your fingers. Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach as the words “Best Friend” rolled off his lips. 

It stung. Surely, you weren’t just his friend, right? It was vastly more complicated than that and at this point, you assumed there was no returning to the way things were before. Your face scrunched at his confession; your hand instinctively wanting to pull away from the boy who you felt had been toying with your feelings for too long.

“However, I don’t want to settle for being  just your best friend… I want more.” Ichigo finally confessed, now breaking eye-contact due to sheer embarrassment that he’d just put himself in such a vulnerable state. You stared wide eyed at Ichigo replaying the words he’d said over and over, letting them resonate in the deepest crevices of your heart.

“Are you sure?” Your eyes pricked with tears and your face felt like a furnace hearing that Ichigo Kurosaki wanted you and not just as a friend but as his girlfriend. Ichigo cracked a warm smile before continuing. 

“Never been more sure about anything else.” He beamed, giving your hand a firm squeeze. “You understand my moods, you challenge me more than anyone, you’re bold in the best of ways and you’re just, different, y/n…” Ichigo looked lovingly into your eyes, his cheeks bright red from having given every bit of emotion he could give to you. 

Your mouth hung agape as you listened to the sweet words that left his mouth, shocked that this was the same boy you’d grown up with. 

Ichigo, now aware of the fact that he had rambled a bit, laughed nervously. “I’m sorry I’d been so stubborn about my feelings in the past…-” but before he could say another word, your lips met his as a sign of your acceptance of his love and new role in your life.

“Does this mean we get to have more spa nights?” you cooed after breaking the kiss as your forehead rested on his - your boyfriend, Ichigo Kurosaki. 

“Fine, but no more kitten ears.” 

tags: @jordyn-degas​ ❤️

#ichigo kurosaki #ichigo kurosaki x reader #bleach x reader #bleach one shot #bleach smut #ichigo kurosaki smut #ichigo one shot #ichigo fluff #bleach fluff #ichigo smut

[loupy-mongoose]

I sent this ask before, but because I've suspected it might've been eaten by Tumblr and we've had new information since then, I'm sending it again (but this time with an updated theory)! Also ooop this got long. I guess that you're getting the Phlurrii treatment, an essay no one asked for, citing my sources, and colored links lol

A while ago, before or right as the arc with Mo-becoming-Randy and more specifics about the events after Lav's birth happened, I was figuring out the ask that gave Randy his Lunar Wing, and the scenes from his nightmares. The first one looks like it was just after the burning ceiling fell on Randy and Mo had protected himself from other debris. Okay, straight forward scene. The second one looks like it might be Akoya just after Lav is born. Again, straight forward. The last one, since we haven't seen it happen in a comic, really caught my attention, as you seed things out little by little. Lav is obviously a few years old at this point, and that looks like Akoya. Everything else seems to be directly from Randy's POV, which is fair, since they are his memories, and his nightmares.

So why is Akoya so angry at Randy, and standing between him and Lav?

Well, at the finale of the lab arc, I suspect something happened that we aren't specifically told.

What wakes up Akoya? The house she, Randy, and Lav have been living in could be close to the facility, and maybe she heard the explosion, but I'm going to suspect that she sensed Randy's body die, or maybe the transfer from Randy's memories to Mo had some kind of significant psychic signature to wake her up (though I'm personally choosing to believe that she felt Randy's body die, since her first words when waking up are "...Randy?" and, to Lav, "Something's... something's not right... We need to find Mr. Randy..." At least, I'll believe it until we get information to confirm/deny that).

So why is she mad when she sees Randy in Sinnoh?

She saw Mo leave the facility. She recognized him as Mo, not Randy, and if there was some odd mixture of them in Mo's body, there was something more important than Mo's psychic signature (if you use those). She had to find Randy. That was her first and foremost thought. And, in her POV text follow up, she can't sense him at all. Her face before she shoves Lav into Mo's arms in the finale tells us she is thinking that he died. And Mo left her, and took her child with him (we know he didn't really have a choice with the facility coming down), while she is grieving, with no way to know where they went.

(I was going to suspect that Akoya actually found Randy's body until I read her POV at the facility and was reminded that she did not in fact find anything)

So! She thinks Randy is dead, and could have been bitter toward Mo for the better part of the four years it took for her to find them again. But! For those same four years, Randy didn't know that he was a Mew transformed into his human self. I think that might make his reunion with Akoya when he finds out about that, and Akoya's yelling at him might have to do with Mo impersonating Randy. Randy's soul or not, I'd think that a Mew would have a very different signature than a human would.

I hope that made sense!

Oh gosh I got theory blasted! X3

First off, I want to say it's probably best to not assume Tumblr ate asks with me. I do have a strong tendency to either not answer, or start a draft preparing to answer and then get it buried in other drafts. I'm, uh... not the best at answering... ^^; (Although I don't believe I got anything of this magnitude from you.)

I remember you or someone else (probably you) asking about the dreams. I think I answered it, but I can't remember for sure.

It is correct that the first dream comes directly from the memory of the lab fire.

But the other two dreams come from fears that Randy had at the time of receiving the Lunar Wing, and aren't based on events that actually happened.

This, the second dream, is because Akoya was pregnant at the time. Randy feared the possibility of losing her, the child, or both.

And this, the third dream, is from a fear that Akoya and/or Lav would decide that he's not truly Randy and hate him for it. (His own perception of his identity isn't the only one he thinks about.)

As for what woke Akoya... You are correct. She sensed him die. But she was in denial about it until the POV you mentioned.

I won't confirm or deny anything regarding Sinnoh, but I like your thinking. :3

#mel-the-pirate #ask #art

[acacia-may]

Acacia's Definitive Defense of Langris x Finesse

No one asked about this pairing, but I'm going to ramble about them anyway... especially since I realized I don't think I've ever actually written a proper post about them as this has been sitting in my drafts for over a year (A/N: Yikes! Sorry friends. I completely forgot I wrote this until today when I tried to find that post I was absolutely certain I had made about Langris x Finesse only to find it buried in my unposted drafts 😅🙈 But I'm posting it now to coincide with the ship ask game so it kind of works...? Maybe? I have no excuses...).

Anyways, dear goodness do I have thoughts about this ship. I’m not sure I can even wrangle them all, but I am going to try my best.

I’m sure it’s pretty clear from my blog that I have a deep love for my spatial mage boys and want good things for them which is one of the main reasons why I have a lot of concerns about the whole House Vaude soap opera. A friend of mine (irl) and I once discussed that plotline for literally 6 hours so I could go on and on about this for ages, but I have tried my best to be brief. That didn't really happen so I apologize in advance for all of the rambling.

I've tried to keep the focus of this post on Langris and Finesse's relationship, so please check out this post if you want to hear my many thoughts on the House Vaude succession drama as whole and in general. To keep things organized, I've divided this discussion into 2 main subsections for clarity under the cut!

(Warnings: Black Clover spoilers and discussion of some heavier topics such as childhood trauma and abuse. Arranged marriage is also mentioned)

Why I Think Langris and Finesse Genuinely Love Each Other (not necessarily in a romantic way but definitely in a selfless care and concern kind of way)

One of my most basic premises for my personal interpretation of Langris' character really comes down to the fact that I think what Langris actually wants more than anything else is unconditional love and to be accepted for who he is (rather than what he does/his accomplishments). He wants to have people who love him, a family—but he'd never admit this because he is convinced he'll never get it. He is convinced that love needs to be earned and he can't earn it, and his relationship with Lady Finesse is a perfect example of this, I think.

It hurts Langris that she is just the kindest person ever and she doesn't like/love him (or such is the reality in Langris' mind anyway given the fact that he has carried around that one time she complimented Finral as "she hates me" for literal years in the canon. But I digress). Langris doesn't like games he can't see a possibility of winning. He closes himself off from love and building meaningful relationships because he doesn't think he'll "win" people's love in the end. He's very cynical and jaded in this way, but more than that, he's wounded. It comes from a place of being denied love without strings attached, without conditions for his entire life and of being told his by his parents that love has to be earned and being convinced that he can't earn it, that nothing he does will ever be good enough and that he will never deserve the love he so desperately craves. And in that way, it comes from a fear of being hurt and rejected. When you care about someone, you give them the power to hurt you—and Langris doesn't want that kind of vulnerability. So I think he just completely counts himself out of the running when it comes to Finesse and defers to his brother—assuming (probably correctly) that she’d choose Finral if she was given a choice between the two of them.

All of that said, he can't quite stop himself from caring for her with a genuine love and respect (not necessarily in a romantic sense but he does care for her)—it’s just sealed off somewhere and not something he really thinks about or allows himself to feel (let alone label) until his brother "declaring war" on him brings all of that to the surface and he kind of has to reconcile how much he wants to be the Head of House Vaude (what he’s worked for his entire life) with how much he wants Lady Finesse to be happy. I love how in that scene there is actually a moment (at least in the anime) in which "the camera" turns and we're watching the scene unfold from Langris' eyes/perspective immediately before he gets involved and tells Finral to clean up his act.

(A/N: If you listen very carefully you can hear the sound of Langris' entire world falling apart...)

Okay, bad jokes aside, this is a huge moment for Langris. It takes him all of five seconds to decide that Lady Finesse's happiness is far more important to him than House Vaude, than his title, his future, his own dreams and aspirations that he has worked for literally his entire life and, ultimately, is more important than everything he has looked to for his own self-worth and fulfillment up unto that point (which causes him to have a bit of an existential crisis as he tries to figure out who he is without those things, without being the next Head of House Vaude, but I digress again). It is an incredible act of love to set aside what someone wants for themselves in order to make another person happy—to choose what is best for another person even at great personal sacrifice. Regardless of how you want to qualify that love (romantic or platonic), it does not diminish the gravity of Langris' sacrifice and the willingness he shows to choose Finesse's happiness over the things that are (seemingly) the most important to him in the world.

Up until this point, Langris is this incredibly goal-oriented character who is set on becoming the best, the strongest, and eventually the head of House Vaude which comes off as self-interested and a little ruthless in his willingness to do whatever it takes to achieve his goals, but suddenly, here he is, ready to give all of that up so that Lady Finesse can have the chance to be happy. It's almost like he is saying (honestly, far louder and clearer than any words possibly could), "I love you more than all of that."

Why else would he be helping his brother take over as heir to House Vaude when that actually seems to be something Langris wants for himself? (I know the poll I ran examined some different ideas and interpretations but that's always been my personal take on it). It’s almost like in that moment, Langris has realized that he can’t make Lady Finesse happy (even if he wants to), but he thinks that Finral can so he wants to make Finral into the best he can be for her.

Once Langris is reasonably sure that Finral is at a place that he can make Finesse happy and has become a man "worthy of her," I could definitely see him stepping aside so that his brother could take over their House and marry her—purely out of concern for Finesse’s happiness, and there is something incredibly selfless and very beautiful about that.

I think Finesse's side of things is much more practical. The fact of the matter is that Finesse is royalty in a medieval society where she will inevitably be married off for a political alliance and/or to produce children, and she has probably always known that she needs to marry out of duty/responsibility, so I can’t really see her as that much of a hopeless romantic given the circumstances. If she allows herself anything, it is the hope that she will get to spend her life with someone who does care for her and who she can be content with. I don't think throughout most of Finesse's life and certainly not throughout this whole arranged marriage business that anyone has ever really asked her what she wanted or ever really cared about her wishes before, but Langris seems to have a genuine interest in her wishes and her happiness more so than anyone else. And I think she does care for him (again, not necessarily in a romantic way but it is a genuine care and concern of at least friendship).

As I discussed in this post, when Langris has all that elf-business and the King threatens to dissolve the betrothal and punish the Vaudes, it is Finesse who comes to their defense rather than taking what is quite possibly her only chance at an "out." And it is an informed, free choice on her part. I love her line in the English dub that she "knows Lord Langris and has no misgivings about him" and therefore essentially begs her uncle not to "judge him too harshly." I think there is something very strong and very courageous in her decision to believe in the good in Langris even when he is at his worst, and her concern is truly and completely focused on what is best for him. I'm especially thinking of that moment when she begs him to stop before he does something he will regret. She's worried about him: his hurt and his guilt. She really wants what's best for him, and it's this love for him and this belief in him that really brings out the best in Langris.

My absolute favorite thing about this ship (besides how selfless they are towards each other) is really that Finesse has this way of bringing out this softer, gentler side of Langris that, I think, very few people have actually seen. Langris himself is so insistent on hiding this (probably a learned response from growing up in an environment where any hint of emotion and any sensitivity is viewed as a weakness), but really he has such a deep capacity for love and given the opportunity would be fiercely loyal.

Langris may not care about a lot of people, but the ones he chooses to care about he will love forever. He's just such a tsun about it, I think, so it can be very hard for anyone (and especially for those with preconceived notions of him as a snotty stick-in-the-mud) to see that he's really very sweet and awkward as heck about his feelings. Langris' love might be quiet—it's not very flashy and usually shows itself in doing little, everyday things for the people he loves—but still waters run very, very deep and he has shown that he would do just about anything to protect the people he loves most and make them happy, no matter what that means for himself. I have absolutely no doubt in my mind that he would die for Finesse if it came down to it.

Ultimately, I can imagine a lot of different outcomes for this relationship (some of which never, ever cross over into that romantic place). I really just want them both to be happy whether that means they end up together or not, but yes, I could see them happy with each other in a romantic sense under very specific circumstances since they do have such a selfless love for each other (but I think that is probably a discussion for another time because this is already super, super long so I'm cutting myself off in favor of the next section...).

Why I personally think Langris rather than Finral is better suited for Finesse

As much I don't like pitting ships against each other, I don't think it's avoidable in this case since she is going to be in arranged marriage with one of them. To paraphrase a favorite musical of mine, it's not a matter of "if" but which one. And I think it's best for me to just start off by saying that while I do genuinely like and appreciate Finesse and Finral as a ship as well, I personally think that Langris and Finesse are better suited for one another in the long term.

I will admit upfront that this is in part because of my own personal experiences of having a chronic illness (and needless to say that is a personal bias that colors my opinions, so please just keep that in mind), but I think it's important to talk about the fact that Finesse is chronically ill because it's not something I've ever really seen discussed when talking about ships for her and I really think it should be taken into account. Like Finesse, I have been sick for most of my life, and I can really relate to the kind of difficulties and limitations that Finesse likely experiences due to being chronically ill and the realities of the less active and much more slower-paced life she would lead and, by proxy, the life anyone who married her would have to lead. Again, I am not saying that I don’t like or couldn’t imagine her & Finral together (I do genuinely like that ship too), but I almost think Langris is better suited for her in that he actually wants (or seems to want) the slower-paced life they’d probably have together. For instance, there are likely to be frequent situations that would arise in which Finesse is too ill or too tired to go out and her husband would then be “forced” to stay home with her. With Langris, I think, there would never really need to be much of that feeling of guilt on Finesse’s part or the fear that she is taking away something from Langris or being a burden, because Langris isn’t super sociable and would just want to stay home anyway. In fact, let’s be honest here, he’d probably, actually feel kind of relieved that he has gotten out of unwanted socializing. Whereas Finral is a much more lively and sociable person (rather than an "old soul" like Langris), and though Finral would never, ever want Finesse to feel like a burden or to feel guilty about being sick, I could imagine there is more of that feeling (at least from Finesse’s side) that he has given up a lot more to be with her since his active social life would drastically change as soon as they married.

There's also the matter of the panic Finral would probably have whenever Finesse was ill or having a flare of symptoms. Of course, Langris would be worried as well, but I think because of his personality, he is better able to shelve that and help in a crisis rather than Finral who gets really worked up and then just sort of shuts down. Obviously this is something that can be learned over time, but I just worry that it would be a constant source of stress for Finral which would ultimately make Finesse very worried about him and upset that he is upset on her account. I think Finesse would have a lot of fear that the life she could give a lively, busy, & social person like Finral would be holding him back in some way. The question there is really: will what Finral wants out of life ever gel with the limitations Finesse has to live with? Whereas I don't think that question is as much of an issue with Langris since he is an old soul and incredibly steady, very unlike his more restless, adventurous, and high-energy brother.

I think Langris and Finesse are alike in this way. Though they have many differences in their personalities (and a really nice balance there), they have a lot of similarities in worldview and their attitudes towards life and their life goals—being more traditional, formal, and proper ‘old souls.' Whereas I think she and Finral have more similarities in personality (despite him being much more lively), they’re both incredibly kind, gentle & easy-going people who aren’t particularly ambitious and often make decisions based on what will make other people happy and "keep the peace." But worldview wise he seems much more modern and less traditional than her which I could see causing some tensions since I think they want different things out of life, in a way. It’s almost more important to be alike in life goals/worldview than personality, I think.

I also think Finesse and Langris share common interests and genuinely enjoy each other's company (as we get these glimpses of in the anime where they're just having a quiet, comfortable tea parties together for instance). Even if it started off as an obligation to spend time together because of this arranged marriage they were going to be in, I like to think that eventually Langris and Finesse actually became fairly good friends and came to genuinely enjoy each other's company. I guess it’s a bit unfair to Finral to bring this up since we haven’t seen him spend a lot of time with Finesse so we can't say that they don’t enjoy each other’s company but I just don’t see them having the same shared interests that she would have with Langris.

There is a lot more I could say about these two and their relationship, but I think that's enough ramblings for now. If you read this all the way through to the end, bless you. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk. Cheers!! 💖

#i love them so so so much #langris vaude #finesse calmreich #langris vaude x finesse calmreich #finesse calmreich x langris vaude #finesse x langris #langris x finesse #i can't believe i never posted this (what is wrong with me?)

[darkkbluee]

Re:dn?

For the WIP asks

Hi anon! Thanks for the ask. Re:dn is my succinctly named WIP and it lives permanently in my head, peeking it's not-so-little head out every once in a while. Not-so-little because every time I remember, I keep adding to it. And the fic, intended to be a short 5k one-shot, just.doesn't.end. It's at 17k now, more than thrice it's expected length. I've given up on ending this monster. I love it, so alas, it'll keep being written and written and written in my drafts. Maybe I will post it, maybe I won't.

Re:dn is about Light getting reincarnated in a peaceful world. He is pretty happy with his new life. Unfortunately for him, he isn't the only one reincarnated. The rest of the main death note characters are reincarnated as well. And they aren't very happy with Kira.

Starring Light "what is Kira? Is it tasty?" Yagami, L "I will get you to confess. Your feelings <3" Lawliet, Misa "date me, senpai!" Amane, Mikami "this life is a reward for my service to God" Teru, Matsuda "I'll make sure you stay on the right path this time" Touta. Plus several others, who aren't here because it would clutter the paragraph.

Snippet below the cut.

Light was born on the 28th of February, year unknown. His parents weren’t Soichiro and Sachiko Yagami. They were utterly ordinary people in ordinary jobs. He was not an only child either. Light had a father, a mother, a younger sister, grandparents on both sides of the family and a lot of cousins. It was a large, extended family.

His parents worried when Light woke up screaming in the middle of the night. They worried even more when Light froze at sight of the plastic water-guns his cousins pointed at him and refused to come out of the closet till they were all gone. His parents, unlike his parents Before, got him the professional help he had never had. After-all, how was Light to explain he had been imprisoned under the suspicion of being Kira and his own father had fired an air gun at him at close range? Despite being his father? Despite understanding the danger of even blank shots at close range?

And in this new life, Light couldn’t explain it either. They could ask questions all they wanted, but Light had no answers for them. But something had to be done, something had to change. His parents couldn’t take the suffering of their child anymore, and Light couldn’t either. As an adult, he could pop pills for sleep as and when needed and needed to give no one any explanation – except occasionally his doctor for a prescription. As a child? This was dangerous for his health and sanity.

So, Light took advantage of being a child. Slowly, he opened up to the doctor his parents had arranged and talked about things from his past life as if they were dreams. 

Things could have gone wrong. They could have gone so, so wrong. The doctor could have labeled Light as a psychopath of some sort. He could have had Light been declared insane, his parents would then abandon him and this new life would be over even before it had begun.

Instead, his leap of faith was successful. His words were taken as the overactive imagination of a child. Of a genius child, who took in more of the world at a young age than his parents would have expected, and that had resulted in unintentionally traumatizing him.

Talking about it… helped. In ways more than Light had thought. Things he had never realized were wrong, feelings he had never realized he had buried, insecurities, fears, dreams, ideals…

It also helped that Light had realized his new world was more peaceful than Before. Crime was low, corruption was low, wars were few. Not non-existent, never that. But significantly lower than… than Before.

In this new world, Kira was not needed.

#death note #lawlight #light yagami #comedy #WIP ask meme #WIP ask game #wip asks #asks

[daresplaining]

Butch: "Wait...you're telling me it was actually Matt?" Matt: "Yeah...it was Matt. He came back from rehab, went to his apartment... I don't know what the #$@% Fisk was thinking, but I know they've got history and... Ah, Butch. He killed my brother." Butch: "I'm sorry, Mike. I really am. But I'm so #$@% glad it wasn't you. I thought...I thought I sent you away, right into my Dad's hands." Matt (caption): "[...]I've done this before. Back in the day." Butch: "[...]I'm sorry, Mike. I really am. All I can do now is be better than I have been. I know you weren't...happy about some of my decisions lately, but I want you to know..." Matt (caption): "The trick was always in the eyes. Not just making sure they faced the right direction...but that no matter what, he had kindness in them..." Butch: "...I'm going to be better. No more killing. I don't want to be him. I want to run this city with fairness, with compassion." Matt (caption): "...and I don't." Matt: "You better." Butch: "I...what? Look, you're my partner here, and I know you're grieving, but maybe take it down a--" Matt: "Let me make it clear for you. If you hurt people, if you commit violence and terrorize others...I'll come stop you." Daredevil vol. 7 #1 by Chip Zdarsky, Marco Checchetto, Matthew Wilson, and Clayton Cowles

This post has been in my drafts folder for almost a full year, for no reason other than the fact that I kept feeling like I had more to say about it. But I always have more to say about Mike scenes. Return with me to this bombshell of a conversation from Daredevil volume 7 #1 (twinkly flashback SFX)...

Kind eyes? I always thought the trick to an effective Mike Murdock disguise was in the feathered cap and the goofy sunglasses, but what do I know?

Anyway, jokes aside, let's talk about this doozy of a scene from the new #1, which kicked off the second volume of Zdarsky and Checchetto's Daredevil run. To start, I am delighted by the return of colorist Matthew Wilson, whose stunning work previously graced the back half of Daredevil volume 4.

Daredevil vol. 4 #14 by Mark Waid, Chris Samnee, Matthew Wilson, and Joe Caramagna

I've really missed that bright red hair.

This scene directly follows up on the events of Devil's Reign, and the brutal (but maybe not permanent!) death of Matt's dear Real Boy twin brother at the hands of the Kingpin. Specifically, it follows up on what we have seen as the progression of Matt's response to Mike's death: attempting to take advantage of the situation for his own gain in ghoulish and disturbing ways. We have seen Matt bury his brother under his own name-- in a way, capping the Soule/Noto "Double Vision" arc by erasing Mike in the only way still possible (possibly not Matt or Zdarsky's intention, but the parallel is undeniable). And now we see Matt using Mike's identity as a tool and a weapon, trying to gather information on Fisk's whereabouts, and toying with Butch's grief for the sake of adding weight to his crimefighting. We are getting a close look at what it actually means to give Matt Murdock an identical twin, and wow, it is not pretty.

That said, I do not believe that this new horrible co-opting of Mike's identity undermines any of the previous indications that Matt is, in fact, grieving-- despite how callous this seems on the surface. We will always have Devil's Reign #6's brutal display of Matt's pain before he started putting his emotional shields up, and in this issue he has a wonderful scene with his superhero BFF Peter Parker in which, among other things, he opens up a teeny-tiny crack in those shields regarding Mike.

Peter: "Oh god...Mike. Your brother." Matt: "Yeah. I'm okay-- it's just been...it's been hard."

(I love that Peter knows about Mike, since he was largely responsible for Matt creating him in the first place. And of course, I also love that Matt has finally restored his friend's memories-- though that's a topic for another post.) But let's take a look at what we have here, which is, plainly and simply, the weaponizing of the Mike Murdock identity. Which is amazing. Matt mentions here that he has impersonated Mike before, "back in the day". We learned in the 2020 Annual that in the new MCU (Mike Continuity Universe), Matt pretended to be his brother as a kid, back before his accident, to get Mike out of summer school. However, that is almost certainly not what he's referring to here. I'm pretty sure he's referring to this:

Daredevil vol. 1 #25 by Stan Lee, Gene Colan, Frank Giacoia, and Artie Simek

We're coming full-circle! Zdarsky has said before that in this version of reality, Matt did still pretend to be Mike in the original Mike Murdock Saga, rather than it being Mike himself, but this is the first actual on-panel reference to that being the case. We don't get context, we don't get the full story, but even just that little reference to the events of "back in the day" warmed my little Mike nerd heart. And having seen Mike pretend to be Matt in this run, we are now finally, finally! getting to see Matt pretend to be Mike, bringing this whole grand Real Boy Mike experiment-- again-- full circle.

I joked about the "kind eyes" comment at the beginning of the post, but I do want to talk about it because it's a striking thing for Matt to say. I had a great conversation with @thosemintcookies about this a while back, regarding how that comment might be interpreted. After all, while there are many colorful adjectives that can be used to describe Mike Murdock, "kind" is not one that jumps immediately to mind. Not that Mike isn't a decent person, but he has never been shown to be any kind of bastion of goodness, even in the 60s. He's a rascal. And kindness in his eyes? What does that look like? How long has it been since Matt has even seen his brother's eyes? It's an odd thought for him to have, and it reeks of projection. On the surface, he is saying "To pretend to be Mike, I need to seem like a nice person", but what it really may mean is "To pretend to not be me, I have to pretend to be a nice person". Again, we return to that hidden grief, and attached feelings of (normal, secular!) guilt. Matt feels like a scumbag, and in this instance, he's got a pretty good reason. He did not directly get his brother killed, but his brother is still dead because of him, killed by proximity just like so many other people in his life, and now he is doing horrible things to Mike's memory. If he's feeling like a sucky human being at the moment...then yeah, he's not entirely wrong there.

But! Note the past tense: "The trick was always in the eyes". This feeling that his brother is a better person than him is not new. We have painfully few details about Matt and Mike's new past together, so this is worth examining. Is Matt, in his grief, now projecting a morality onto Mike that wasn't actually there? Or has Matt always looked up to his brother in this way? Does he see himself as capable of dark things that Mike, for all of his rascallitude, would never do? It's a fascinating shift in a dynamic that we have previously seen only from Mike's perspective, which showed us the smart, obedient, selfless brother and the disappointment of a twin who could never measure up. Here, we may have Matt's side of things: the flawed but ultimately decent brother and his violent, deceptive, disobedient, callous, chaos gremlin twin. The idea that they both may have seen each other as the better person is absolutely fascinating, and is, of course, informed by the layers of secrets they were keeping from each other.

And of course, there is another facet to this-- Mike's origins. As Mike was once a wish fulfillment source for Matt at a time when he felt he had to hold his personality in check, now we are seeing him as a different flavor of wish fulfillment-- a vision of a better, kinder version of Matt when he is feeling at his most scummy and unkind. The body is barely cold and Matt is already martyring his brother.

Moving on to the rest of the scene, Matt is being horrendously cruel to Butch here in using his dead best friend to get close enough to threaten him...though he doesn't have any reason not to be. It's very likely that he blames Butch for Mike's death-- if not in the immediate sense, then in the fact that Butch's friendship led Mike into a life of crime. Plus, Butch is the new Kingpin and has been going around killing people, so there's also that. When Matt is in pain, he doesn't need much of an excuse to do nasty things to people he dislikes. He could have just shown up here as Daredevil with Spider-Man in tow and delivered his threat, but instead, he adds some psychological warfare-- dangling the hope of Mike still being alive in front of Butch and then ripping that hope away.

Not only that, but it is, for lack of a better term, ballsy as hell. He just strolls in here without a mask on, confident in his ability to fake being Mike well enough to convince Butch, and then he goes "Psych! I'm not Mike after all. I'm just Daredevil in a...really, really good wig and make-up?" Has Matt just revealed his secret identity here? Is Butch going to connect the dots: Matt Murdock vanishing into thin air despite supposedly being "in rehab", Daredevil not only managing to look exactly like Mike but also to play him with a degree of accuracy that suggests he knew him well...? Sure, this might spook him into being a well-behaved little Kingpin, but isn't it also going to make him extra angry and determined to avenge his best friend's death? (I hope so.) Maybe Matt no longer cares. He is leaving the city, and he mentions in this issue that he feels like he isn't going to return this time. (Obviously he will, but that's not the point.) Maybe it doesn't matter anymore if one NYC bad guy knows his secret identity. Maybe he is taking advantage of that, even, to go in here and have the unique pleasure of doing this face-to-face-- in a way, using Mike once more as Daredevil unmasked.

#Long post #Daredevil vol. 7 #Daredevil #Matt Murdock #Butch Pharris #Mike Murdock #Mike Murdockalypse #Commentary #ID in alt text

[hebuiltfive]

WIP Wednesday

I've been focussing on Thundertober recently which has meant all my other bits have taken the back seat for now (I will be finishing those sickness prompts in my inbox, I promise!). This is from an early draft of What Should Have Stayed Buried - I say early because it needs some heavy edits. This truly is a Work in Progress.

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

“Tracy?”

He’d been so zoned out that the quiet whisper in his ear was enough to make him jump. Maybe it really was time for him to start taking note of how tired he was because shit. 

“You really don't have to stay.” Evelyn continued, trying her best to contain her amused smile. “I'm not a three year old. I can handle a needle on my own, believe it or not.” 

“Policy.” Scott stated matter-of-factly, straightening up in his seat in a feeble attempt of staying awake. “I’m not leaving until you’re in the hands of one of the team.” 

“I’ll be called in soon, I’m sure—” 

“Still can’t leave.” 

“God, you’re such a—” 

“Charmingly helpful soul who just saved your life? Twice, by the way.” Scott offered in a way that had Evelyn glaring daggers at him. He hadn't planned on bringing that up, but now seemed as good a time as any. It was worth it from the look on her face alone.

“— pedantic rule follower. But yes, also that.” 

“Nice to know you think I’m charming.” 

“I meant the part about the life saving.” 

“Of which I still haven’t received a ‘thank you’ yet.” 

“You didn’t save me twice.”

“Uh.. Yes, I did?”

“Falling to the floor would not have killed me, Tracy.”

“You don’t know that, Hayes.”

“For the love of—”  Evelyn sighed dramatically. “You’re... insufferable, you know that?”

Despite the clear annoyance in her tone of voice, Scott’s eyes didn’t fail to see the slight smirk on her lips and, because he wanted to add insult to injury, he offered her the trademark Tracy Wink to boot. Evelyn groaned, rolled her eyes and turned in her seat in an attempt to face away from him. Given the way the hospital seats were lined, she had to lift one leg up to achieve a modicum of success, and even then Scott could still see half of her features.

Time was definitely ticking and the time they'd spent so far in that waiting room was beginning to verge more and more into the hours category. Scott, not known for being patient, began to tap his foot on the linoleum tiling as his irritation grew.

A hand shot out and ruthlessly hit his knee. “Stop that!” 

“Sorry.” He cleared his throat, shooting Evelyn an apologetic half-smile. “I get... fidgety.” 

“I told you, you can leave.” 

“And I told you that no, I can’t.”

Evelyn went to swat at his knee again, but Scott dodged her in time.

“You’re supposed to be injured.”

“I never claimed I was! You were the one who was insistent on bringing me here, Tracy.”

At the third swipe, Scott caught her wrist before she could make contact. “Stop... trying to hit me.”

“Then stop babysitting me!”

“I’m not…” He tried to keep a hold of her wrist but Evelyn twisted and wrangled herself free in no time. “… babysitting. God, you’re more slippery than Gordon’s pet goldfish.”

She inclined her head in a mocking bow. “I’m taking that as a compliment.” Evelyn crossed her legs, right over left, and straightened her back. She waved her hand in what Scott believed to be a shooing motion. “Now, go away.”

“No.”

#fic: what should have stayed buried #this is such a rough draft still wow #i really need to get back to work on it #thunderbirds fanfiction #wip wednesday #scott tracy #five fics

[demonslayedher]

Why do you like Demon Slayer so much?

I---I don't know, Anon, w-why do you like breathing so much?

...because BREATH TECHNIQUE LOOKS WICKED AWESOME AMIRITE!??!!?

UFOTABLE MADE SUCH A FREAKING COOL LOOKING ANIME that both looks and sounds amazing with all that care put into it HOW COULD I NOT LOVE IT!? Such good source material too, ALL HAIL WANI-SENSEI!!!!

Or rather, to more eloquently express myself, I'll answer this in two parts: the "why" and "so much."

Why do I like it?

- Simplicity

It's a classic Good .vs. Evil story, a triumph of working hard and working together. It's Coming of Age and Hero's Journey, all themes that never get old because they're really good themes. KnY isn't even that fresh of a take if you boil it down to this, but it didn't need to reinvent the wheel, it just needed to be a good wheel to keep the story going.

I was grateful it ended when it did, it had a goal to accomplish and everything in the story worked toward that goal. I've fallen away from adventure shounen because I can never stay interested in super long series that get mercilessly extended past their natural life as cash cows. Not to sound like a Swamp Demon here, but this manga got to end while it was still young and beautiful.

The fighting mechanisms are complex enough to be fun to explore, but it's not as complicated as other shounen series, making the barrier to entry lower for first-time anime viewers. That's part of why I think it's been so successful. Plus, even though we get things like Red Blades and Marks later, their existence as ultimate techniques was in place from the start, so they felt believably set up and paid off. They made sense within the world building, even if they had to be dropped on the readers later so as to weekly serialization interesting.

It tackles deep themes, but doesn't overcomplicate them. Muzan being a simple villain and Tanjiro simply being good-hearted created interesting tension just fine, the motivations throughout the cast keep the story nicely driven.

- Depth

Although the story, world, and characters are simple enough for people of all ages and familiarity with anime to enjoy, if you want to scratch deeper than the surface level, the hundreds of thousands of words of meta and cultural background throughout my blog go to show that it's very, very easy to bury yourself deeper in it. In my case I already have years of obsession with Japanese culture to build on, so KnY fit very nicely into my niche. I already love samurai and oni and swords and such so that was already playing to my knowledge, but as a passionate nerd, it's also given me lots and lots of exciting new material to learn more about. But more about that later, suffice to say here that Gotouge is a very, very knowledgeable gator.

- Characters

THEY ARE JUST GOOD AND FUN AND UNIQUE DESIGNS IN THE FIRST PLACE, but also, I don’t feel like I already know these characters from other anime. Many of them defy being typecast, and even the ones that do feel like like other characters in a plethora of anime have such a unique spin to make them stand out in my heart. I'm sure I could be a nerd for plenty of other series, but it takes the right characters to make a fangirl.

Also, my emotions got manipulated excellently; I like Tanjiro and immediately wanted to root for him, but I ha-a-a-ated most of the rest of the cast until I got to spend a teeny-tiny bit more time with them, and then I liked them hopelessly. I got totally strung along and I love it when I can get strung along like this.

Why do I like it so much?

A lot of that comes down to my personal recipe of brain soup and the situation I already felt stuck in by the time I got into KnY, a few months prior to the pandemic. Watching the anime and feeling really into it came as a comfort while I was finding myself in what felt more like a situation than a good career move and feeling frustrated with the second draft of a novel which wasn't working. Then just as I had hoped there might be some improvements to my situation which I was holding out for, the pandemic changed everyone's plans.

Simply put, the isolation and stress in those early stages of the pandemic both gave me lots of time to explore and write fanfic and made me rely a lot on the joy I got out of KnY, and then I got so practiced at making KnY fanwork that this blog became like my bonsai I could cultivate in peace while most other things in life have continued to feel out of control. And dang it, I'm good at cultivating this bonsai of a blog! It's gratifying to feel good at something when real life is making you feel otherwise!

Hopefully the upcoming new start in a new city and in a new job that'll hopefully make me feel good at things again and provide some smidge more control over my life will make me less reliant on KnY for such a big share of my happy hormones, but...

THE HYPE IS PART OF WHAT I LOVE

IT IS

SO MUCH FUN BEING OBSESSED WITH A MAINSTREAM PHENOMENON

THERE ARE THINGS THAT MAKE ME HAPPY EVERYWHERE

I SAY THESE CHARACTER NAMES AND EVERYONE KNOWS WHO I'M TALKING ABOUT AND THIS HAS NEVER HAPPENED TO ME

IT STAYS ON MY BRAIN BECAUSE IT IS EVERYWHERE

AND THIS IS SO COOL

[bcbdrums]

Heyy! I'm curious about your musical career, so here are a couple of questions if you don't mind:

Do you play any instruments other than drums?? And do you play in a band or you sing too and are a solo??

that's kind of you, thanks! and sorry for the slow reply! this got buried in my drafts.

i'm an orchestral percussionist. fave instrument is timpani, hence the avatar. i play all percussion instruments you'd find in orchestra or wind ensemble, big and small, and i also play drum set of course and have taken tabla lessons but don't consider myself a tabla player.

i'm a music teacher, and coming with that territory is the ability to play "every" instrument just a little bit. by every i mean, standard instruments you'd find in an elementary school classroom or in a high school band. so i also play piano, acoustic guitar, flute, clarinet, trumpet, baritone, trombone, violin, and cello. i do NOT consider my strings skills to be worth anything at all, i can just play the instruments well enough to teach a kid how from scratch. i'm better at brass than woodwinds.

basically i'm better than a 10 year old and better than most middle schoolers at all the things except strings, strings i consider myself a beginner. but there's a lot to be said for having the ability to understand all the instruments, how they work... that knowledge helps a lot so often times beginner-level doesn't appear to be beginner... oh yeah i guess i can play recorder and ukulele too. i can repair all these instruments and more if i needed to. ah and i'm a decent piano and guitar player i guess. can perform on those, but i'm very definitely a percussionist.

as to singing, i didn't really start singing until i started teaching. i get lots of compliments so i guess i'm good at it. i could definitely benefit from some professional training and not the one beginning voice class i had in college, lol.

i don't perform vocally... i sing for work, that's about it. and whatever you see me messing around with here on tumblr, which is just recording into my phone lol. i tend to only perform with orchestras and wind ensembles playing percussion, but for work again i've had to play all of the things in front of people. i've been on concert tour in england with a professional wind ensemble, that was fun.

this was very rambly aahhh i hope i answered your question! thank you very much for the interest!

#life #music #my music #how do i tag #no one ever asks about me lol #queue win