#that didn't make me less vulnerable. it just make it way more frustrating the way people treated me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rockpaperimpala · 2 months

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So about Netflix's the Last Airbender....

I am literally so confused you guys. You made me think I would HATE this show. And I LOVED it. Me. Known perfectionist and hater.

Katara was lovely. Yes, she started as a more soft spoken character than her cartoon version, but she was still passionate and hopeful throughout, just visibly unsure of herself. I think people were thrown off by this actress' natural way of expressing herself, which is Different from animated katara for sure, but not bad. Then she spends the whole season growing in Confidence and Fire. I Adored her fight with Paku, it really did feel like a payout of the whole season's development, and the bending kicked ass!

The Bending Kicked ass!!! The martial arts was fun and fast and creative and exciting! It looked SO good. That alone would be enough reason for me to watch and enjoy any show.

Zuko's actor was fantastic. He really captured the rage and confusion of this 16 year old banished prince. And there were so many Added moments between him and Iroh wich to me enriched their relationship. Like YES! This is why I'm watching, to see more of them, to see things done a little differently.

Iroh facing the consequences of his actions at Ba Sing Se!! That's what I'm here for!

Zuko's relationship with the men on his ship! That's what I'm here for!

The Extra layers we get to Ozai manipulating his children!

Also no one is talking about Admiral Zhao, who I had SO much fun with. I feel like they slightly fleshed out his character in a really dramatic way, really developing the hubris and frankly insane grasping ambition of someone who would kill the moon. I completely enjoyed this wilder, less controlled version of him, who comes up through the season from basically nothing and no one!

I am OBSESSED with King BUMI and his anger and disillusionment with the world! Like this was SO real. Living a hundred years of futile war would do that!!!! It is one of my favorite changes to the whole series. This new layer of emotion and character depth is what I'm here for!

Sokka was SO funny. He literally had me laughing out loud so often. That actor GETs Sokka, and GETS the way his humor is delivered. And is also able to tap into the more vulnerable side of him. People said he was "obsessed" with leadership. WHAT? That is a young person trying desperately to do his best and to try and find his place in the world, to figure what he has to offer. I loved his pride at hearing the Mechanist say that he would make a good engineer, and the sweetness of the moment that Yue's father says that he can be a hero without being a warrior. Sokka does so much growth in this series, in understanding himself and life.

And his chemistry with Suki was adorable!! I even like him and Yue (who was a totally unexpected sweetheart, despite her terrible wig)!! Like he has that same ability that Sokka has in the original to Connect with people.

Aang was great! He WAS fun loving and sweet and funny. I don't know what you guys wanted. Cartoons are always bigger and more exaggerated than live action. People's eyes swell up an, birds fly around their heads, and there are funny sound effects. That larger than life quality is the strength of animation! You have to look for different strength in live action. Like the SUBTLETIES of the acting choices. This little actor brought so much kindness, innocence, and strength to Aang.

And I FELT his frustration at being asked to do this at 12, his fresh hope anytime it looked like someone more experienced would be able to help him and no one did, and that's why he didn't learn waterbending this season, because he kept waiting for an freaking ADULT to show him the way, to help him carry this immense burden, but every adult he meets asks him for help instead, asks him to carry it himself, and then the finale hits and he realizes that there won't be any adults helping, he does have figure this out himself, and he makes the hard choice, takes on responsibility more than his years and offers himself to the ocean spirit, and he might have been lost entirely if not for Katara!

And that counter running theme to the show pays off: that he doesn't have to do it alone. He may not have more experienced guidance, because the adults have let him down again and again, but his friends will be with him, and they will figure it out together!

This is there throughout the series! Katara tells him this about learning waterbending, when he says he still wants to wait. Bumi tells him this in the palace at Omashu, and Aang sees the faith he has in his friends repaid!

I like these changes! And the show still found time for silly fun adventures and character building moments.

The show was never going to be the animated original. That is already a Masterpiece, and it frankly did NOT need to be adapted at all. I did not WANT a live action adaptation. I was adamantly convinced I would hate it. But the changes that they netflix show gave are what I Iike most about it. If I want to see Zuko say "you rise with the moon, I rise with the sun," I will go watch the animated original, because that version is perfect. And now, if i want to see Zuko say "Lu ten would have been proud to have you as a father," and see iroh pull him into a tight hug, I can watch this live action version, which is very good too. I'm going to disagree with most of the people on here and say that the Netflix's Avatar: The Last Airbender, DOES capture the heart of what we liked about the original show. It's spirit, fun, excitement, and characters. And the changes made are the reason we should be watching.

#avatar the last airbender #natla

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a-hermit-pining · 5 months

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Argument with Nanami Kento

Genre: angst

Pairing: Nanami x Reader

Summary: There are parts of his life that exist beyond you. Somethings that you can never be a part of. Pieces of him that will never belong to you.

AN: @kazenomegaminowanpisu I hope you like this :)))

You despise tears. Specifically, your tears. Even now the source of your tears is much less of an annoyance that their very presence. You never allow anyone to see them. Your tears are yours.

They are your burden, your weakness of bear. Kento was right as always and you knew it. You knew it all along.

There had always been an ever-present argument in your relationship with him. The argument of his time. In addition to being your boyfriend, Kento is also a sorcerer and an office worker.

There are parts of his life that exist beyond you. Somethings that you can never be a part of. Pieces of him that will never belong to you.

You wanted those pieces so badly. You wanted them for yourself, just like you gave him everything.

Initially, it had been easier to mask your displeasure with smiles, supporting Kento with messages of understanding at a canceled plan. But every passing day wore you down.

Awkward stares at an empty dinner table in the restaurant or sympathetic smiles as you walked out of a packed theatre alone. Even the sight of your own reflection as you took off the makeup after another canceled date mocked you.

Every failed meeting jeered at you. Were you the fool? Did he not want you like you wanted him?

It did not take long for your frustrations to boil into minor arguments, which later morphed into bigger ones. Arguments where both you and him tore apart every weakness, where you did everything you could to hurt him the way he hurt you.

"Does this ever matter to you, Kento?" you slam open the door to your apartment and rip off the heels that left blisters on your feet. "All you had to do was show up to this one reunion." Filling a cup with water, you turn back to him, "One evening where all my friends, my past schoolmates wanted to meet you. You couldn't do it." Gulping down the water, you close your eyes, trying to calm your temper.

You watch Kento sigh as he loosens his tie. "I tried, but something came up. I made it to greet them, didn't I?" His voice remains devoid of any emotion, which seems to flare your anger even further.

"Yeah? Should I thank you for showing up when everyone was leaving the venue?" Your mind wanders to the mocking stares of all your friends. A relationship that had once been the point of envy for all was now nothing more than a jest. The unfairness of it all tugged at your heart.

The man in question, Kento, does not even care to confront your anger. Instead, your boyfriend of half a decade plops himself on the couch. "I got caught up with a last-minute call. Couldn't make it." His words are the same old, repeating excuse that is presented to you for every grievance.

Marching toward the couch, you cross your arms, frustration bubbling within you as you confront Kento. His attention seems to be captivated by everything in the room except for you. The air is thick with tension, and you can feel the weight of your emotions pressing against your chest.

"You could have called, texted, or anything to let me know. I wouldn't have forced my friends to wait for you! Kento, do I matter even a little to you?" Your voice wavers slightly as you muster the strength to hold back your tears. You refuse to let your vulnerability show, at least not yet.

He sighs, barely bothering to look at you. It feels as though even acknowledging your presence is a task too arduous for him. The silence hangs in the air, and you can hear the distant sounds of the city outside, a stark contrast to the emotional turbulence within the room.

The distance between you feels insurmountable, and a wave of frustration washes over you. You expected more, something, anything that would indicate he cared about the impact of his actions on you. The lack of a response intensifies the ache in your chest.

"My duty will always fall above you. Saving hundreds will always come before you," his words hang in the air, a heavy proclamation that offers no solace. Instead, it pushes you deeper into the abyss of your own perceived insignificance to him. The weight of those words feels like a cold shiver running down your spine.

"We've talked of this multiple times, and it seems to me you are incapable of understanding me. Everything seems to be about you. Did you even bother to ask about my day? If I was hurt in the sudden emergency?" The edge in his voice cuts through you, each accusation slicing deeper than the last. His words cause your steps to falter. Is this truly how he sees you? A self-centered partner?

But Kento doesn't stop there. For the first time, his words flow without an end in sight. "I am tired of consoling your little tantrums. And if adjusting to my life is so hard for you, then maybe I am not what you need. Fin-"

You can't bear to hear the rest. The words feel like a dagger, and you refuse to let him plunge it any deeper. Gathering the broken pieces of your heart, you rush into the emptiness of your room—the same room you once shared with him.

Alone in the silence, it's easier to let the tears fall down your cheeks. Holding them back had been harder than ever, especially when the person you thought would always stand by you seemed ready to let you go so effortlessly.

How effortlessly he had offered to give up on everything you had wanted to fight for. Was this truly what he desired? Freedom from you? An escape from the constraints of your expectations? The questions echo in your mind, and the ache in your chest deepens as you grapple with the possibility that the person you loved may not be willing to fight for the relationship as much as you are.

Lost in a trance you pull your hair free of the straining bun. You peel off the dress that he once claimed to be his favorite on you, he had failed to notice it today.

But even as you do all this there is one single thought in your mind. One that echoes the loudest. Kento, your boyfriend did not want you anymore. You were not needed in his life. Nothing more than a hinderance in the grand scheme of things. The voices in your head were vicious.

Dressed in the comfort of your pajamas you sit on your bed. Lost in the numbness of your realization, you stare at your hands. What to do? How would you survive the void of his absence in your life.

Leaving everything behind...could there be any other life for you if not for the one by his side. Somehow you had managed to destroy whatever you built with him.

Maybe you were too controlling. Too demanding. Perhaps you were selfish. Too wanting for something that was not yours alone. How suffocating must it have been for Kento.

The weight of these questions hangs in the air. Does he despise you for it? The possibility gnaws at you. You contemplate the idea of apologizing, begging, trying to make amends, but a more profound uncertainty lingers – would he even want that?

Lost in the noise of your thoughts, you don't notice Kento entering the room until he crouches in front of you. Your gaze remains fixed on the emptiness of your palms, now filled with the silent weight of teardrops.

His hands suddenly clutch yours, breaking the reverie, and you look up in panic. This is your chance to make things right. His warm touch trails patterns on the back of your hands, offering a flicker of comfort amid the turmoil.

"Kento…" Your voice is hoarse, and you continue, determined to express the turmoil within. "I am sorry. I was wrong. I shouldn't have… I—please don't make me… I'll be better." Your words spill out in a desperate mess, a plea for understanding and a chance to mend what seems irreparable.

"I won't ever complain. I wi—" Your words come to a sudden halt as his finger gently rests on your lips, effectively silencing your messy monologue.

"You have every right to complain," he asserts, cupping your face and coaxing you to finally look at him. His touch wipes away the tears that linger on your cheeks.

"I was wrong. My duty as a sorcerer is important to me, but it does not come at your cost. Protecting others should never come at the cost of hurting you or dismissing you." His words carry a weight of sincerity, and for the first time, you notice the slight wetness that gathers in the corners of his eyes. "I am sorry for making you feel this way. For causing you such grief. For making you think so little for yourself."

His words are like a balm, soothing the wounds created by the recent turmoil. As if sprung into sudden action, your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him into a tight embrace. For now just his presence was enough. Being a small part of his life was enough.

So you let him kiss you, hold you close and drown into the delusion that you mattered to Nanami Kento. Perhaps this delusion would suffice your heart one day.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #nanami kento #nanami x reader #angst #big oof

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figgrrr0 · 1 year

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Comforting touches

Character: Sub!Scaramouche // Reader: Dom!Afab, no pronouns used

Genre: Smut // CW: Titjob, cum play, nipple play, dumbification(?) he just doesn't want to think about anything :(

Plot: No // Word count: 1.9k

Barely more than half an hour ago, you were sitting on the couch in your living room, waiting for your boyfriend to come home. Scaramouche had been increasingly anxious recently, but due to his standoffish nature, he couldn't even bring himself to open up to you about the problems he was facing. Always pushing you away, you'd come to expect the degradation that came with being caring towards him, him seeing it as a slight towards his capabilities.

Safe to say, when he came through the door, stumbling into your arms as soon as you stood up to welcome him home, you knew something wasn't right.

With his face pressed into your neck, you were content to simply hold him close to you for the time being, just breathing together to try and calm him down and assess the situation. But when a wetness soaked into your skin, you slowly pulled away to face him, your gentle hands on his shoulder. (You'll never tell him that it was mainly to catch him if he fell, what with his unsteady knees and shaking shoulders, not unless you wanted to get your head bit off).

Before you could even get out a word of confusion or consolation, Scaramouche took a shuddering breath and closed his eyes before another tear could slip. Already, without a word being spoken in the past three minutes, you knew that he was overwhelmed.

This wasn't the first time that this had happened, and, as guilty as it made you feel, you hoped that it wouldn't be the last. Moments like this were the only times he would let himself be completely vulnerable around you, to completely surrender the control that he clinged to so despairingly. Instead of bottling all of his frustrations up, you were glad to have found an outlet in which he could relax and reset himself, without taking it out on the public by way of his... less than amiable personality.

...

That led you to this: kneeling on the floor between Scaramouche's parted legs, as he looked off to the side, his arm covering his eyes from your view in embarrassment.

It was an action that he gravitated towards each time this would happen, as if you didn't already know exactly what he looked like when he got like this; as if he wasn't eagerly awaiting what he knew would be coming. If only he could be a bit more patient.

"Tch..."

"... Is something wrong?" A responding sigh, and your hands slowly glide over the flesh of his thighs, an encouraging squeeze making its way through your fingertips.

When he shows no sign that he's going to say anything, you take hold of the bottom of your shirt and bring it up and over your head, leaving your top half covered only by a bra. He turns his gaze to look at you out of the corner of his eye, a fierce blush taking over his face, accompanied by a half-restrained pout.

Sensing his inner hesitation, you reach out and carefully rest your hand over one of his, which he keeps plastered to the couch on either side of his body. At your warm touch, he eventually pulls himself together enough to look back at you, his eyes immediately darting to your cleavage, before hurriedly looking back into your eyes.

With a silent praise, your lips pull upwards in a calm smile. Your hands slowly reach behind you to un-clasp the bra, letting it slide down your arms and drop from your body, bearing your front to the cool air of the room, as well as Scaramouche's hungry gaze. Your nipples harden under his insistent eyes, and his fingers twitch under your own, longing to take them into his hands and play with them until the sensitivity has you moaning out for him. But other than the twitch, he makes no move to act out on it, the situation familiar enough that he knows what you want from him.

"Are you ready? This is what you need from me, right?" You shuffle forward until your midriff is pressed against the cushion of the couch of which he is sitting on, your other hand riding higher until it comes into contact with the waistband of his shorts.

With an audible gulp and a clear of his throat, he rasps out, "Yes. I just... I need this right now."

A clench of your hand around his.

"What's the magic word~?"

Reluctantly, he tightens his hand around yours in answer, "...Please..."

With him, that's as good as you're likely to get, so you don't push him any further. Not when he's like this; desperate to take his mind off of everything around him and just indulge in the comfort of you.

Quickly, not wanting to keep him waiting any longer, your hand undoes the ties around his shorts, pulling them away until his half-hard cock comes free from the coverings. Taking him into your hand, you slowly stroke him to his full length, his dick twitching in anticipation as he tries to control his reactions. All the while, your other hand rubs relaxing circles onto the back of his palm, coaxing him into relaxing until he gradually gives in, letting out short hums and groans when his pleasure spikes.

Pleased with how he's reacting, you let your hand fall away from him, his now-full length drops down to rest against his still-clothed stomach, his gooey precum smearing into the fabric.

He lets out an impatient grumble, but it isn't long before he's cut off completely.

Leaning forward, your shoulders push his legs to spread even further apart to make room for you. Biting your lip to rein in your excitement, you take one of your breasts in each hand, pulling them apart to guide his cock into the space between.

Immediately he lets out a loud keen, curling forward to hold onto your shoulders with a tight grip, trying to ground himself as he becomes accustomed to the pleasure once again. When he looks down, his mouth drops open to let out a moan at the obscene sight below him:

His cock throbs between the tight heat of your plush breasts, his oozing precum aiding the glide and glistening erotically in the low light of the room. Each short bounce you make as you drag your breasts along his length pulls his cock to be encased in the hot flesh of your chest, his sensitive cockhead disappearing and pressed tightly between your mounds to allow him to feel every slick slide. With each thrust, his tip pushes through, more slick drooling from his slit and pooling upon your chest, before dripping down to meet your perky nipples. The sensation is odd at first, the sticky fluid quickly cooling in the cold air and the slow drag of it against your skin tickles, making you shiver. The slight vibration of the action causes him to thrust against your chest, a weak cry falling from his lips, chasing the sensation no matter how fleeting or overstimulating it is.

Steady moans break through Scaramouche's rough exterior. He always gives in so quickly when you do this for him. Maybe it's the fact that you can still look at him clearly, or talk to him when he's getting too carried away without stopping in your ministrations. Or maybe, it's the intimacy of the experience, being so close to you, buried in the welcoming heat of your chest and still able to see you, to feel your hands making contact with any part of his body you wish to feel.

Each rise and fall of your chest with your breath leaves him gasping, the added friction keeping him tense as he hurdles closer and closer to his peak. With all of your attention focused on his needy cock, there's no escape from the torturous sensations. All of his whines and choked out calls of your name amount to the final burst of pleasure that shoots through his entire body.

As his pulsing cock begins spurting his thick cum, you lean back, taking his length back into your hand once more and jerking him off. Squeezing as much of the white substance out of him as possible, it lands on the apex of your chest in a messy splatter, more joining the mess until he finally starts coming down, overstimulation slowly setting in.

His nails dig painfully into your shoulders when you don't stop, but you push through, milking him of all he has to give, until he is completely satisfied and slouching back onto the couch. And then, you let him go, content to watch him gasp for air as he regains his senses for the next minute or two.

Scooping his cum onto your fingers, you trail it across your chest in slow, meticulous movements, making sure to draw his attention to your nipples as you massage them, finally getting the attention you've been missing out on. The hard buds are soon coated in Scaramouche's white, viscous cum, the thickness sticking to your skin and the wetness making you all the more reactive to the touch from your fingers. He takes hold of your arm, and before he can apply much pressure, you're already rising, sitting down on the couch beside him and guiding him to sit at your side.

"Are you still good to–"

"–Yes. Keep going... please..."

"...Okay. You can tell me all about it later. If you want."

But he doesn't answer.

Licking the salty fluid off of your fingertips, you slide a hand into his hair and pull him into a kiss, letting him taste the slight trace of himself on your tongue. He groans at the taste, pushing himself further into your body, one leg sprawled over your lap as he leans against your shoulder.

Pulling away, you guide his face to your chest, and he instantly starts licking up the remaining tracks of his own spend. Laying little nips and bites on your skin, he makes his way down to one of your buds, taking it into his mouth and sucking attentively, lapping over it with his tongue until it is completely clean of his spend. He's sloppy with his technique, not caring much for how he looks or sounds, with wet slurps causing spit to trickle down his chin from the corners of his lips.

Letting out low moans, you wipe his lips clean from the drool with your thumb.

He soon moves his attentions to your other neglected bud, suckling and latching onto it as if he'll never get the chance again. When he nips or pulls too hard – and sometimes he does, after all, he can get quite carried away when he's like this – all you have to do is lay a light tap against the back of his neck and he'll know to be more careful, laving his tongue over the mark to soothe the pain as if kissing it in apology.

While you are obviously enjoying this, this experience is more so for Scaramouche than it is for you.

The mindlessness of his actions allows him to drop into a hazy state, completely hidden from any of his life's worries. If you're needed to help him reach this mindset, you'll gladly help him each and every time, as well as take care of him until he eases out of it. Even if it means that he'll be too embarrassed to face you for the next few days.

Because despite how harsh he is at times, he can never get enough of you taking care of him.

Want to send a request/brainrot with me? Check my rules!

Thank you for reading! 🩷

#genshin impact #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin #genshin imagines #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche smut #wanderer smut #wanderer x reader #genshin wanderer #My writing~🩷

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fiveloml · 2 years

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the umbrella academy x reader. “ i could never stay mad at you. “ [ gender neutral reader. ]

─ ✧ tua characters after / during an argument and want to apologize.

─ ✧ first fic !!! hoping it doesnt flop to hell :'o hi everyone im froyo and im obsessed with tua!! i also use they/them for klaus :]

@ ─ luther hargreeves ☂︎ number 1.

LUTHER quietly knocks on your door, hearing your voice say “ come in “ is his sign to walk in with an assortment of your favorite snacks. he had a weak smile that disappeared once he noticed the tears in your eyes after the argument, he places the snacks on a nearby table and slowly sits next to you on the bed to see if you'd move away. you didn't.

so he went with a long apology, explaining how he was wrong and that he was sorry that he hurt you. after it, he gave you a gentle kiss on your knuckles and hoped you forgave him. “ you're so sweet “

@ ─ diego hargreeves ☂︎ number 2.

DIEGO is a honest man, he wont lie to himself but he felt such a strong urge to prove that he was right in the argument. not realizing he began to hurt you in the process, and the second he realized ─ he stopped.

he notices the tears in your eyes when you looked away, balling your fists as you figured it was useless to argue. you turned your heel and before you could walk away, a gentle hand grabbed your wrist as you looked at diego. his face filled with regret. “ wait─ i want to apologize. “

@ ─ allison hargreeves ☂︎ number 3.

“ i heard a rumor that you- “ ALLISON covered her mouth in realization, watching your expression turn into one of betrayal. “ you promised not to rumor me. “ you sniffed, but allison was the one to run out the room.

once she was back into her room, she felt sick to her stomach. you were the one good thing allison has ever had in.. forever, so to betray your trust in that way had guilt piling up like no other.

after a few hours, allison had approached you while you rested on the couch of the living room. “ i can't get you to forgive me overnight.. but i can try to make things right to help fix us. “

@ ─ klaus hargreeves ☂︎ number 4.

KLAUS drowned out your arguing by covering their ears, muttering nonsense as you tried to get your point across. “ klaus please just listen─ “ you tried to reason, but they only pressed their hands against their ears even more. “ i'm only worried about you! why dont you understand that?! “ you snapped, tears in your eyes as klaus suddenly froze up in shock.

“ you.. are worried? “ they said softly, putting their hand on your cheek as you nod in their touch. “ i'm sorry.. so sorry. i didn't want to make you worry for me. “ klaus whispered, pressing their forehead against yours with a cheeky smile.

@ ─ five hargreeves ☂︎ number 5.

FIVE was a.. difficult man to get to know well. he avoided things that were too touchy or that involved attachment, so when you came into his life ─ it was hard to adjust to such things he avoided his entire life.

so this lead to arguments, mostly one sided on five's end since he was simply worried. “ what were you doing out there?! you could've seriously gotten hurt. “ he said worridly with a tint of frustration. “ i'm not weak, just cause i'm not like your superhero family doesn't mean i cant defend myself. “ you crossed your arms, but he grabbed you by the sides of your arms and looked straight into your eyes. “ exactly, you aren't like us! “ his face changed once he realized what that could be interpreted as.

you wanted to walk away but five's grip on you kept you in place, he rested his head on your shoulder and said nothing else. he was showing that he was vulnerable and could only show this side to you. five was bad at the whole relationship gig.. but you knew he was trying his best for you. “ i know you worry, but i can handle myself. okay? “ you sigh, patting his back as you pulled him into a hug. “ okay. “

@ ─ ben hargreeves ☂︎ number 6. [ if he were alive ]

it was less an argument, but you can tell the atmosphere was tense after the mission today. BEN was supposed to be scolded by reginald, but instead you took the blame for his mess up. “ i got in the way by being there, i distracted ben. “ you lied to the father of the hargreeves.

“ you're forbidden to see my children, especially ben. leave. “

and so the two have you started meeting in secret, however did not bring up the reason why you were doing this in the first place. causing an aura of silence whenever you two met up. “ why'd you have to take the blame, i could've handled it. “ ben murmurs, leaning on your shoulder as you smile down at him. “ but you dont want to get scolded, right? “ and your theory was confirmed when he didn't answer, but his hand squeezed yours. “ i'm sorry.. i just cant bare to see reginald do that to you. “ ben sighs as you plant a kiss on his forehead.

@ ─ viktor hargreeves ☂︎ number 7.

VIKTOR always distanced himself out of fear he'd get used, especially after what happened with leonard when he was younger. you always reassured him that you have nothing but love for the boy and he knows that you do, but his fears get the best of him at times. “ you aren't safe with me! “ viktor yells, but you only look at him sorrowfully, people have hurt him so much and gets treated like hes nothing.

“ vik.. “ you murmur, walking towards him slowly as he continued to mutter to himself while sobbing. you gently wrap your arms around him, leaning into his chest as you listen to his heart beat quickly, his breathing stabilizing as he began to relax in your touch. “ i'm sorry.. i'm so sorry, i didn't want to snap at you.. “

#tua x reader #tua x you #the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy x reader #the umbrella academy x you #five x reader #five hargreaves x reader #ben hargreeves x reader #klaus hargreeves x reader #luther hargreeves x reader #allison hargreeves x reader #viktor hargreeves x reader

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chiriwritesstuff · 20 days

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constellations; from the vault

the first of the many short drabbles i wrote while deep in my writer's block.

pairing: lucien flores x f!reader

rating: E (18+, MDNI)

word count: 831

warnings: allusions to rough sex, reader talks about the bruises from rough sex, infidelity, reader and Lucien just can't quit one another, this is rough but so am I, not beta read at all

a/n: here is a drabble I wrote around the time ::that:: video came out, I knew I wanted to write something but eventually abandoned it. this is really rough, probably doesn't make any sense but I hope you like it anyway? I have a few more of these drabbles with other Pedro boys so if you would like me to release them, let me know!

"Where are you going?"

As you ask, you catch a glimpse of his dismissive scoff in your peripheral vision. He retrieves his crumpled slacks from the floor, sliding them on without bothering with his boxers. Flopping onto the nearby lounge chair, he buries his head in his hands, reaching for the pack of cigarettes on the nearby table.

His spend is still leaking out of you.

Balancing the cigarette between his lips, he mutters, "Why does it matter where I'm going, huh? Didn't you say this was the last time?"

"Well, you certainly didn't fuck me like it was the last time," you bite back, staring up at the ceiling. "Not unless you didn't mean to force me to say that I would never leave you."

He looks up at you, his expression a mixture of frustration and resignation. For a moment, silence hangs heavy in the air, punctuated only by the soft click of the lighter as he ignites his cigarette.

Finally, he exhales a plume of smoke, his gaze meeting yours with a hint of vulnerability. "I don't know, okay? I wish I did, but I don't."

You watch him through a haze of conflicting emotions, each flicker of the cigarette casting shadows across his face. Memories flood your mind, unbidden and unwelcome, of all the times he's shattered your heart with his constant infidelity. It's a cruel dance you've performed too many times, the steps familiar yet no less agonizing with each repetition.

"Why do you do this to me, Lucien?" The words spill from your lips, heavy with the weight of all the pain and betrayal you've endured. "Haven't I given you enough? Am I not enough for you? What else more do you want from me?"

Your voice trembles with a mixture of anger, hurt, and desperation, each word punctuated by the ache in your heart. You've poured everything into this relationship, sacrificing pieces of yourself along the way, only to be met with deception and disappointment time and time again.

Lucien's gaze flickers with a shadow of remorse, his own pain reflected in the depths of his eyes. "I don't know," he whispers, his voice strained with emotion. "I wish I had the answers, but I'm just as lost as you are. I'm a fucking monster."

You think back to the countless promises made in the aftermath, the hollow apologies that echoed in the silence of your shared space. Each time, you swore it would be the last, that you'd finally find the strength to break free from the cycle of pain and betrayal.

"They don't know me as you do, baby," he groans into your ears as he fucks you from behind, his hands harsh against your hips, clutching your skin so tightly you swear that he'll leave a mark.

His mark. Branded across the expanse of your skin, like a constellation of stars that eventually fade, only to appear again and again and again, each time more painful than the last.

But here you are again, caught in the gravitational pull of his presence, unable to tear yourself away despite the scars etched deep within your soul. It's a masochistic pattern, one you know all too well, yet you find yourself powerless to resist its allure.

As he takes another drag from his cigarette, you're reminded of the fragility of your resolve, the delicate balance between love and self-preservation hanging in the balance. The truth is, you're tired – tired of the heartache, tired of the uncertainty, tired of clinging to a love that feels more like a curse than a blessing.

His words hang heavy in the air, a confession wrapped in a shroud of resignation. "I can't quit you," he murmurs, his voice tinged with a vulnerability you've rarely seen. "I know that I'm fucked up. But I can't quit you."

"If you don't love me, then why do you even bother with me?" The question hangs from your lips, edged with frustration and a hint of resignation. "Surely those other women are much more appealing to you."

Lucien's gaze softens, his expression betraying a hint of regret as he reaches out to touch your trembling hand. "It's not about them," he murmurs, "It's about you. You're the one who sees through the façade, who knows me better than anyone else ever could."

His words offer a fleeting sense of reassurance, a glimmer of hope amidst the storm of uncertainty raging within you. But deep down, you know that words alone are not enough to mend the fractures in your relationship, to bridge the chasm that divides your hearts.

But as his gaze meets yours, a silent plea hidden beneath the smoke and shadows, you realize that some part of you still yearns for redemption, for the possibility of a love that transcends the pain. And so, with a heavy heart and a weary soul, you resign yourself to the dance once more, knowing full well the risks that lie ahead.

#from the vault #this probably makes no fucking sense and im sorry #lucien flores #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal characters #lucien flores smut #lucien flores fanfiction #the uninvited #lucien flores x reader #lucien flores x you

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monstercampus · 7 months

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Ellie help I have werewolf brain rot and Kirk has been living in my mind rent free the past few nights 😩 please tell me more about him, does he have a secret soft side or is being mean his love language and you know he cares about you if he's giving you a hard time? Why does he live in a dorm by himself? Where is he on the possessive scale? Honestly just tell me everything you know about him so I can simp to the best of my ability 🥺😫🙏

And actually while I'm here, anything about Elliott or Julian would also be tasty 👀👀👀 forgive me for the werewolf team fic altered my brain chemistry and I may never be the same

absolutely !! !!!!! i am at your mercy uwu <33 (this is mostly stream of consciousness so if u want more i am READY)

(cws: kirk being a sap + lore)

Kirk is very much that way--giving you a hard time is generally how he shows he cares about you. He's only truly mean to those he doesn't care about, and trust that there is a difference even when you get frustrated over his attitude in the beginning. He didn't grow up with a lot of love in his household so it's really not his area of expertise, he never really learned how to show it and only started experiencing affection when he joined the pack and made friends with all the other werewolves. Being snuggled, having his hair stroked instead of pulled, listening to his friends talk about him being handsome and smart even if he's got a shitty attitude.....it's weird to him. He doesn't hate it deep down, but he hates how it makes him feel vulnerable when he doesn't want to be.

'Vulnerable' is barely even in his vocabulary, which is why he comes at you with so much heat at first. He'd been hoping and praying that you two could boink, have a good time, and then you would pretend like it never happened so he wouldn't have to face any of those feelings he has when he looks at you. But when you don't, and when you're just so sweet, Kirk can't handle it and has to revert to what he knows: being a dick. Not nearly to the extent of how he is with other people, but just enough to keep you at arm's length in his constant fear that you're gonna end up making him feel like he isn't totally worthless. Because what would he do then? He's accepted the role of being an irredeemable, raging douchebag for pretty much all his life. He's got an attitude, his temper is awful, he doesn't consider himself that good-looking, he's got some of the worst grades out of the whole pack, he fixates on things and lets them consume all his thoughts, and he hasn't even got any palate to boot and will eat just about anything, even if it's on the verge of spoiling. He's total garbage and he's friends with a pack of people that couldn't be more perfect; Julian is incredibly charming, Portia's practically a genius, Nick is insanely handsome, Elliott is so gentle and really funny, Priam is a total sweetheart and Athos is the pinnacle of cool in his eyes. How could he even think of measuring up to all that, much less stick out among the rest and prove he's worth even a little bit of your love?

That may be the most frustrating part about Kirk--he can be the prickliest guy you know and he would die before he ever says those things out loud, but he seriously admires his friends and you yet he has little to no belief in himself. Granted, growing up he would've gotten his ass beat for showing that kind of weakness, so it's still deeply ingrained in him as an adult--especially since the pack are pretty much the first friends he's ever made on his own. And at his core, he's jealous. Jealous of them and their nice families, jealous of how well they all turned out despite going through their own struggles, jealous of how easy it is for them to be open when he's terrified of people finding out he's bi, jealous of you for being so brave and so beautiful in equal measure....so that's why the best thing he can do--in his own opinion of course--is to be your collective guard dog.

After all, Kirk isn't afraid to bite. His instincts are hard to control in his human form, could you even imagine how feral he can get when he's full wolf, or even just close to the full moon? If anything it's what he's good at; hunting, beating ass, and taking a punch. If he can't be as good as you and the others deserve, the least he can do is make sure that sweetness and the goodness of your souls isn't ever dominated by someone else. He'll spill blood, he doesn't care. He would even get suspended if it came to that, expelled, arrested, whatever it takes and he'll let the chips fall where they may. You'll know his love for you is real when he starts acting protective over you, not only when other people try to bother you but as far as your daily needs as well. Have you eaten properly? Are you thirsty? Do you need to sleep? When's the last time you stretched? He acts like it's a favour he's doing for you, like you're a little wolf that needs caring after, but in truth it settles his own self-doubts and makes him happier knowing that he's doing something for you--that he's taking care of you like a mate would, and when you smile at him or thank him for his help he just melts. He would do anything to keep hold of that smile.

.....Which is why he's got a plan in his head for after graduation. He and Nick are the oldest and thus are going to graduate first of all of you, so once that's over and done with he's got plans to start building a place for you all to properly call 'home'. It's nothing crazy--just a cabin in the woods--but if there's one thing he can confidently say he's good at it's woodworking, and he's sketched out the designs to make it everything you could ever want.

Personal rooms for you, him, and Portia who has trouble falling asleep when it's noisy. A big living room with enough sofas to fit you all. Polished oak walls like Julian grew up with and always wanted to see again. A bathtub big enough to fit Nicky's giant, muscly legs without spilling over. Tables and chairs to fit everyone and more, to fit all the family gatherings and maybe even the pups you might have one day. A garden out back where he'll plant those ugly little flowers Elliott loves. Trees and greenery around where they can run and hunt and play during the full moon, totally obscured by the rest of the world. A big fucking chandelier in the dining room to intimidate any friends you bring over that think they're hot enough shit to snatch you. It's gonna be perfect, it's gonna be the one thing he can say he's proud of in practically his whole life. It'll be a gift to all of you for putting up with his assholery for so damn long, for sticking with him even when he couldn't find a single reason why you should.

That's the kind of love Kirk shows. Words don't mean much to him--actions and acts of service are how he expresses his affections, because it's much simpler for him to put work into something he can touch and measure and paint rather than throw some flimsy words around and call it love. Plus, one of the reasons why he lives in his own dorm is because his downtime is incredibly important to him. Usually he would request a private one-bedroom apartment, but this year he was assigned roommates that he very quickly drove away with his annoying habits almost entirely on purpose. If he's not comfortable with someone, then like hell is he going to share an intimate living space with them--and after a long day he just needs time to be completely alone. He has to think, work on his projects, exercise, chew on something, and have no prying eyes around that will impede his progress in trying to figure out how the hell he can try to make himself worthy of being loved by you. A dumb, violent wolf reaching to grab the very moon from the sky.

#kirk (mc)#werewolf x reader #werewolf team #monster boyfriend #monster campus lore #neutral pov #ellie writes #phantom-ofthelibrary #anons #werewolf boyfriend

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johnslittlespoon · 1 month

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Just read this and now I can’t stop thinking about how Bucky would get Gale to finally be comfortable bottoming. Idk I just have a headcanon that at first Gale only tops y’know cos of all the Internalized Homophobia™️…..what do you think?

-🍒

LOL the way i didn't even register that there was context missing until i saw the second ask (also wait i love the emoji sign off, that's so fun for repeat anons if anyone else wants to do that (/‿＼✿))

i'm so torn with my take on this tbh because it varies greatly for me from au to au, but in general canon i definitely think the same; even if it's not 'active' homophobia, he still grows up not acknowledging that part of himself (or even being aware of it, maybe not until he meets john, but i think something deep in him still knows that he feels something when he looks at boys the same way he feels something when he looks at girls).

and he never feels any sorta bad way about john when john bottoms, there's never judgement there, it's just this mental block he can't get over when it comes to himself but he wants to so badly, feels so frustrated that he can't give himself the same kindness and grace he gives john (which john points out the first time they talk about this.)

i think the only thing that would help him grow more comfortable with it/the idea of it is just growing closer to john and realizing he can fully trust him with anything. knowing that john will never judge him or think less of him, knowing that his hands and words will never be anything but gentle towards him, knowing that john loves him unconditionally and is so so patient with him; that would finally be what helps him make that decision.

i don't think he'd tell john far in advance, because he'd be scared of spooking himself out of it. he's probably going back and forth in his head up until the moment he actually decides to do it, but him and john are in bed and john is cupping his face with so much tenderness and kissing him so sweetly and when john reaches for the lube and goes to work himself open, gale's hand unthinkingly settles on john's wrist. mumbles against john's lips, "i think i wanna try it, tonight."

john goes very still and looks at gale with so much warmth and pride because he knows it's such a trust thing for him, his chest is all fuzzy knowing gale is willing to let his guard down with him like this, even if they don't get very far. asks if he's sure, so careful to make sure gale doesn't feel pressured, and gale promises him that he is. i think realistically gale might want to prep himself the first time, because it gives him some control in a situation where he's feeling very out of his comfort zone, but i also love the idea of gale letting john take his time with him, showering him in kisses and love bites and praise to distract while he works him open, lightheaded with the noises the new type of stimulation drags from gale.

it takes gale a bit to get used to it, and john moves slower and more gently than he's done with anything else in his life, and gale's probably pretty tense and nervous this first time, but he ends up liking it a lot more than he expects, and john is obviously thrilled that he has a new way he can dote on gale and make him feel good. he almost can't handle the vision of gale below him, strong legs wrapped around his waist, golden hair splayed out over the pillow, looking up at him with so much trust in between needy messy kisses.

and in my head, once gale is comfortable with it, he bottoms more often than john does because he likes the juxtaposition of being so vulnerable with john, but also knowing that john will let him have control in that position (aside from the days where he doesn't want to think and make decisions, and lets john take the reins.)

he has fun playing around with that type of control too, like as mentioned in a prev. ask, having john sit on his hands, or keeping them in place on his own waist just to feel them tense with restraint when john's holding back, or tying them behind his back when he really wants to make him squirm.

they're both switchy/verse–y, but i think it's just easier physically for gale to bottom since he's got a slightly smaller/more lithe frame, john is more muscular/boxy and probably less flexible so gale bottoming makes quickies and such easier too lol. i think gale is more particular about sex and control and all of that, whereas john is often more than happy to go along with whatever gale decides on, easygoing and eager to please and turned on by literally anything gale does. :^)

#the yapper is yapping sorry but i have Thoughts occasionally #just every so often yk. one or two pop into my head #covers the rest of my blog with both hands shhh #buckbucky #buck x bucky #johnslittlespoon asks #johnslittlespoon brainrot #johnslittlespoon spicy

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misspickman · 2 months

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“Will you stay with me? Tonight? I just— I’d feel better knowing you’re near.” make those bitches vulnerable

If anyone could explain the counterintuitive nature of the mind, Kon would listen, carefully, then disregard every bit of it. It would eat at him but ultimately he would not learn from it, as is the story of his life. It frustrated him to no end, and it made changing the habits he'd grown into no easier.

He'd just about made out a Tim-shaped figure at the door as the sudden light filled out the room. As the light hit, so did Kon's headache. He groaned and covered his face with one of Tim's many pillows scattered about the bed.

Tim startled, slow and unusually jumpy in his movements. Would you look at that? Kon was starting to sound like the resident Bat himself. Maybe there was some merit to watching Tim work, aside from getting to stare at his scrunched up face.

A second later he heard the soft click of the light switch again. He heaved a sigh, but stayed underneath the pillow, part for the dramatic effect, part because it actually made him feel better in some messed up placebo way.

He could hear Tim shuffling around the room, taking his suit off, his boots, all the while trying his best to keep it as quiet as possible. It didn't work but Kon could appreciate the thought. As the sounds of hard kevlar and leather hit the floor in a heap, the musky smell of sweat filled the room.

“Why are you in my room?” Tim asked, voice muffled and too loud.

“Bart is running laps upstairs and playing on his DS. Loudly.” Each one of his steps was like thrown pebbles making ripples in the water, if pebbles were sharp and hateful and ripples made your head scream in agony.

“That doesn't explain why you're in my room.”

Why was he? Kon's room was lead isolated for this exact purpose, keeping him cocooned from the onslaught of noises that scraped his brain raw at times like this. Kon's room also held the generally helpful set of noise cancelling headphones Tim had gotten for him. None of that mattered when Kon didn't want to be in his room.

He shrugged, and said matter-of-factly, “I didn't want to start the next Halloween movie without you.”

Tim groaned; a loud, guttural sound that Kon followed with a stifled whine. Even though it must have been obvious at this point, he didn't want Tim too aware of his problem. Kon liked to pretend he wasn't as transparent as he knew he was. He didn't enjoy it, but it was a matter of necessity for his survival.

The springs of his bed creaked as Tim sat down, the warm skin of his thigh brushing against Kon's feet. Internally Kon cursed himself for his depravity that made him overly aware of the fact that his friend was half naked right now, next to him, as if they hadn't seen each other in similar states of undress before. Even then Tim had been particularly touchy about this sort of thing; nakedness, intimacy, and who was Kon to preach to him? He had even less of a normal relationship with both. That only made him appreciate the moments when Tim was too exhausted to care about propriety.

Too bad he had a pillow over his face. Peeking over it would only make him more obvious and desperate. The older they got, the less excuses they had for being sort-of-undressed in front of each other. They were no longer clingy kids who hung off of each other half the time they spent together—mostly they weren't, at least. Kon didn't feel much different from the gangly sixteen year old he used to be. Except now, he knew why his eyes would linger on Tim when he'd pull his shirt over his head and his back muscles moved and made Kon's brain go huh.

Not that he was looking for excuses to see his buddy naked. He only appreciated them when they showed up, then felt strongly shamed by them.

“I'm not staying the night,” Tim said, and sunk Kon's heart. He made a pitiful little noise. “Don't whine. I have stuff to take care of.”

“Yeah,” Kon grumbled, “me.”

He could imagine the pointed arch of Tim's eyebrow. Hell, he could hear it in his voice. “I thought you were fine.”

And he was. Mainly. The magic bullet only grazed him, and the whole situation was honestly more ridiculous than anything else, barely endangering. Who the fuck makes a magic gun? People need to get their gimmicks together.

Just a graze still landed him at medbay, and he bitched at Tim the entire time there. Tim gave back as good as he got, proud and unbothered, while Kon was very much bothered.

“I am,” he admitted. But two could play this game. Kon had watched Tim fight and flinch each time he stepped wrong or swung his staff too hard. He wasn't an idiot. “How are you doing?”

For a moment Tim fell silent, thrown off. “I'm… okay? What?”

“I saw you limping,” Kon said, feeling just a bit guilty for acting smug about noticing something like this. It was not the sort of remark Tim could take lightly. “Did you sprain something?”

He knew Tim didn't. He was offering him an out, sort of, because he knew an active injury would be easier to admit to than a constant not-so passive pain. Tim liked to think he was pretty sleek, too.

“No,” he denied, as Kon assumed he would. “You're deflecting.”

“I don't want you to leave.”

Tim was easy to disarm with staunch vulnerability, not because he didn't believe it was there, but because he didn't know how to throw it back in your face. He could bicker with the best of them but if Kon offered some honesty and outright asked what he wanted, Tim found it impossible to say no.

“Me being here won't help with your headache,” Tim said. “Actually, it will only make it worse.”

That was true. Well, mostly. The constant movements and sounds every functioning body made would only add to the sum of it all, but it would help because Kon wanted him here.

Gently, Tim added, “You also probably shouldn't be staring at screens if your head hurts.”

How damn hypocritical was it of Tim to be dolling out preachy advice about being careful with your pains when he himself was planning to go jumping rooftops? “Don't tell me what to do.”

The headaches had been Kon's company for as long as he could remember using his powers, not Tim's. That, and the occasional thought of knocking his skull open that he entertained from time to time, were sources of momentary comfort. Didn't do much else, but he felt lighter with the ability to turn the pain in on himself twice folded.

“Would it kill you to accept help?” Tim asked.

“I am accepting your help. In the form of you sitting your ass down and watching the rest of this movie with me.”

Tim's eyebrow twitched. “I thought you didn't want to start it without me.”

He didn't, but it had taken Tim so long to get here and Kon desperately needed some horror movie shaped comfort if he was already lacking the friend shaped kind.

He rolled over on his back and lifted his arms in Tim's direction, in some form of a mocking plea. “I'm only five minutes in. Our friend Michael hasn't even showed up. Come on, man.”

“I don't even like those movies.”

Kon lifted the pillow off his face and looked at Tim, at his pale, fallen face and his unfocused eyes. His hair was half tied up and half falling around his face in oily strands. Kon thought he really, really needed a shower and a nap. He said none of that, only looked at him and hoped that he made a sad, pathetic sight.

“You don't have to watch. Will you just stay with me?” he asked, pleading; more sincere than he'd like to admit. “I’d feel better knowing you’re near.”

A flash of shock ran across Tim's face before he steeled it back to some semblance of a careful neutrality. It might have worked on someone less Tim-experienced, but it did not work on Kon.

“Don't be dramatic,” Tim muttered.

“I'm not,” Kon insisted. He stretched out one of his legs and folded a grimace. “A bullet grazed my poor ankle, you know. Ouch. It hurts so bad and I'd feel so much better if my mean friend stayed here and watched a movie with me.”

He could see Tim's apprehension at being called mean, even if he had to know Kon was just pulling his leg. Guilt tripping him. Same thing.

Tried and true process; it worked like magic.

“I know you're fine,” Tim said as he settled more comfortably on his portion of the bed. Kon saw how slow he moved, for Tim. Careful movements, aware of the spots where it hurt and how not to aggravate them. “Your poor patient play is not fooling me.”

Kon gasped. “How cruel. How mean! You'd be so harsh with your friend when he's suffering an ailment so severe?”

“Stop it,” Tim said, grumbly, but with a smile.

The wound stung a bit still. If Kon were smart, or any less stubborn, he would have sat in the Sun for an hour or two to get himself in top shape again. It sounded almost too easy when he thought of it that way. The Sun though, in a funny turn of events, hurt his eyes whenever he got like this, and didn't need more direct stimulants to make his life hell.

A bit of a sting on the surface was such a ridiculous little thing that it felt unnecessary to mention, especially when he knew well enough that if Tim got a whiff of it he'd get all up in his head about lingering magic effects and so on and so on, and it would take the rest of the night to shut him up. Kon didn't want that for either of them. He didn't want to end up back in medbay and he didn't want Tim stressed over nothing.

He balanced Tim's laptop on the edge of the bed. It made his headache spike, and got him squinting, but the movie wasn't going to play itself. He never noticed how much he used TTK in his daily life until it hurt him to do so.

Tim swatted at his hip. “Give me that.”

He took the laptop and set it up on a chair, while Kon made himself comfortable further up on the bed, to make more space for Tim. Not that he didn't like Tim so pressed up against him while in nothing but boxers but—but. Propriety. Very important.

Finally, with both of them settled on the bed, Kon hit play. On the screen, a gaggle of kids gathered around a TV screen as a jolly ad for a collection of Halloween masks started playing. Next to Kon, Tim laughed.

“What?” Kon asked, with a distinct feeling that he was the one being laughed at. It got him wary on instinct, but then it was Tim laughing—hard to be worried about that.

Tim brought up a hand to his face to cover his grin. His eyes didn't move from the screen, which bathed him in gentle blue light as the characters moved.

“I thought we were skipping the third part?” he asked.

“We're watching all of them.” Kon noted the way he avoided an answer. “Means no skipping. What kind of a dirty cheat do you take me for?”

Tim sighed. “Well, this one is—”

The possibility of Tim outright spoiling a movie for him almost made the headache go away entirely for a full three seconds. “Nuh-uh! Shut up! I'm watching!”

He stuck his uninjured leg in Tim's side in protest. It jostled him and Kon saw a brief grimace fly over his face and just as he was about to apologize, Tim's hand wrapped around his calf and squeezed.

He could never hurt Kon with his bare strength but he could inflict pressure. It was very effective. It got him quiet, it got him paying attention to the movie so his mind wouldn't start running wild.

“It's kind of catchy,” Kon muttered, feeling altogether dumb, subdued and flustered. “The jingle.”

Tim hummed, ominously, and Kon cursed him for having seen the movie before and being all sly about it. It made him all smug and insufferable and Kon… rather liked how that looked on him.

It occupied most of his brain space as he tried to follow the plot of the movie, because Tim kept his hand firm on his leg throughout. If pressed, he would insist that it was the overstimulation that made him so overly aware of the touch, but Kon knew it wouldn't be true. He knew Tim had nice hands; bony and rough with scars and cracks. Knowing it made him restless, almost guilty, like it wasn't for him to know.

He shifted to the side and Tim pulled his hand back. It wasn't awkward and stilted at all. Nope. There would be no reason for it to be weird, because Tim knew and doubted nothing.

When it was apparent that the mandatory sex scene was about to happen, Kon became very glad for the lack of physical contact between them. Even the proximity felt too palpable, too charged between them; to Kon, that is. He had no doubt Tim was having a good ol’ regular time watching a movie, oblivious to the tension radiating from his right.

Still, Kon snuck a glance at Tim, just in time to catch a pent up grimace on his face. He laughed.

With no real push behind it, Tim swatted at him. “Shush.”

“How old are you again?” Kon asked.

“I just think it's unnecessary for the movie,” Tim said, looking as uncomfortable with words leaving his mouth as he could. “No one does that—no, shut up, don't say anything. I know they do. That's not the point.”

While Tim got lost in his own points, Kon debated the level of potential weirdness and merit of a joke, and decided that it was not actually weird or creepy if what he'd be doing was clearly just trying to get on Tim's nerves.

He opened his mouth and saw Tim's face fall. “Rob, if you were a divorced doctor, and I a young lady on a mission—”

“Do not finish that sentence.”

See? Jokes. Never awkward. It certainly closed the topic of sex, which Kon was thankful for.

Not long after, Kon was watching an insect emerge from what remained of that woman's face, suddenly wide eyed and awake and paying attention. The camera stayed on the shot for long enough that he figured they'd spent a good deal of money on making it look as grisly as possible.

“I miss him,” he said, somewhat regretfully. Next to him, dozing off, Tim hummed in question. “Michael.”

Tim huffed and stretched, and that was enough to steer Kon's attention away from the scary movie once more. He resisted the urge to pinch Tim's exposed side, thinking it would be too weird, considering the everything of tonight.

Tim pulled his leg up and rested his chin on his knee with a sigh. “You're not the only person who felt this way.”

So Tim went on to tell him about the reception of the movie, about producer's intentions for the franchise, and Kon mostly tuned it out in favor of watching him talk and pay rapt attention to the movie at the same time. He would stop occasionally to point out a detail Kon wasn't following, and was instead starting to question Tim's initial distaste towards the movie.

“Are you watching?” Tim asked at one point. “I thought I had to stay here with you so you could watch.”

That had been the main excuse, yes, and Kon felt hot with shame at being caught looking. He turned back to the movie, the dull ache against his skull prompting him to shut his eyes for just a moment.

“Should I turn it off?” Tim asked, no accusation in it. Again, Kon found himself resisting the obvious smart choice. Go to sleep. Wake up maybe-mostly headacheless. Continue his life. He could be smart, or he could put his legs up in Tim's lap and continue half watching the movie that was steadily creeping him out.

Tim snorted at his silent protest but didn't complain. He took two pillows from Kon and piled them up behind himself to lean against, not quite stifling the soft whine as he rolled his shoulders.

The plot was starting to unravel with sudden speed, so Kon didn't get an excuse of a slow scene to question Tim about it. It wouldn't be appreciated either way, so he comforted himself with the knowledge that it had to be better this way. Kon couldn't exactly call Tim out on this without being called a hypocrite, but he could force Tim into taking a break. This way they were both ignoring their problems very professionally while not overworking themselves. A win-win situation, as far as Kon was concerned.

~~~

A crackle of a doorknob stirred Kon awake. Mostly awake, at least; his vision still swam as he blinked his eyes open, then decided it wasn't worth it.

A whisper came from a bit further away, then neared him. Tim spoke to him in a hushed tone. “Sorry. I was just leaving, I didn't mean to wake you.”

“Leaving?”

He could feel Tim hovering, but Kon was too sluggish in both his movements and thoughts to focus on any of it. A bit louder, with an underlying roughness to his voice that Kon associated with exhausting fights and mornings after, Tim said, “Movie's over.”

Right, the movie. Kon must have passed out right after it ended. He dimly remembered seeing the credits roll, in that dreamy, unfocused state of drifting away.

“You can stay,” Kon slurred. “It's your room.”

A clammy hand rested against his cheek, then the side of his forehead. Checking for fever, Kon thought. It was one of those habits people had and found hard to break, even though he himself couldn't get a traditional human fever.

“I don't have magic fever,” he said, because he knew that to be the sort of worry Tim would have. “My leg is fine, my blood is fine, where are you going?”

Kon rolled to his side, looking up at Tim all bleary eyed. He painted a special picture in the dark, as did most people, because they didn't count on anyone seeing them. Kon did; Kon could see Tim move his hand from his face and yawn silently, he could see how sleepy he was, face slack and expressionless.

“I was going to crash into your room,” Tim admitted.

Even half asleep, Kon knew that inviting Tim to stay in bed with him would be crossing some unspoken but well known boundary of a normal friendship. But the dark worked on him too, and the implicit safety of it made him stupid.

“Idiot.” He yawned. “Perfectly fine bed here.”

Tim politely ignored that suggestion. “How's your head? Feeling better?”

He was sweet. Annoying in his worry, sometimes, but sweet. It was hard for Kon not to think so now, with one foot still in dreamland.

“Better if you stayed.”

Tim sighed softly. “I'm not crowding on this bed with you. You hog all the blankets.”

“And you snore,” Kon threw back, petulant, and was just a second too late to realize his mistake in it.

He could see a slow smile stretch across Tim's face. “All the more reason for me to leave.”

He got up from where he'd been crouching next to the bed with a quick good night said over the shoulder, and Kon watched him go, disappointed but not present enough to be an active participant in it. He was out cold again before Tim even shut the door behind himself, and in the morning the memory would seem more like a stray dream. Or so he would tell himself to avoid facing his own embarrassments.

#i changed the sentence a bit but hopefully it still works #thanks<3 yay #my writing

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jonsimstwitchyeyeballs · 5 months

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TMA AU where everything is exactly the same except that Gertrude was Jon's legal guardian when he was a kid

I'm all for the somewhat disinterested unnamed grandma that let him occupy space and didn't show him affection plotline but hear me out:

What if that had been Gertrude?

You can come up with many a reason why she ended up having him under custody (I don't want to say they're necessarily blood family in this AU) and the story would pretty much play out the same way.

She would also be distant and frankly not immediately concerned with raising a child because she's way too busy stopping rituals and making fear avatars fear her, so she sort of leaves him unsupervised most of the time. He has no idea what her job even is, he just knows she prefers to work in secret instead of taking care of him and still is salty about that later on.

He doesn't find out Gertrude's been working for the Institute until he goes to work there himself and it's painfully clear he knows less about her than everyone else there-which is frustrating because he's learning things about her second hand, that's how avoidant she had been with him.

Obviously he resents her for it, so throughout Season 1 his comments about her incompetence are more targeted and personal, though not too personal since the only thing he knows about her is that she didn't care about his upbringing.

As the show progresses and he finds out who she really was it's pretty clear that in a twisted way she was trying to protect him from harm, keeping up an extremely typical relationship so that she doesn't get attached and he doesn't get used against her. She can't afford to be vulnerable for anyone, nor can she have anyone knowing he lives with her.

Of course, some people would find out and she'd make sure they'd never hear the end of it. Though, unfortunately she could not predict the bad luck via which a Leitner ended up in Jon's hands.

In the end, the arc about Jon discovering more about his predecessor and her deeds is largely the same, but it also has that extra vector of personal involvement, as he begins to rationalize her actions towards him too, but maybe not entirely forgiving. It's obvious that between the fate of the world and a child she would choose the former, but a part of him wishes she had told him more about her life and he didn't have to meet the real her post-mortem.

You can add a lot of angsty bits with the concept, like Jon wanting to get through all of Gertrude's tapes to see if he's even mentioned once, only to find out that he never is, or him meeting people who knew Gertrude but had no idea he even existed in relation to her and clearly describing her personality better than he ever could. Oh and of course the tragic irony that since she never told him about the Institute, he couldn't have known it was a bad place and ended up there anyway. I'm particularly fond of this idea because I still want to emphasize that Jon is still just a random guy at the end of the day and didn't end up where he did because of his relation to someone else.

It also serves the theme of human connections, making you wonder that if they had communicated and bonded, would everything play out the same way?

As a conclusion, I'd just like to say that this is by no means a correction of the original story, I like Gertrude being a completely mythical and mysterious figure just as much, I just wanted to share a different take (might make part 2 for more details/headcanons).

#tma #the magnus archives #the magnus pod #jonathan sims #gertrude robinson #tma spoilers #tma jon #tma gertrude #leitner books #tma au #also I just think it'd be cute if she raised him (and was extremely bad at it)

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heliza24 · 11 months

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Love your blog and all your analysis!!

Many people didn't like S2 because Simon, according to them was just a tool to drive Wilhelm's story, a love interest only and didn't really have his own story. In particular, many are frustrated at the lack of narrative on the video's effect and Simon's subsequent trauma. Of course, everyone's allowed their opinions but seeing as you have experience in the world of writing and making tv magic, wanted to get your insight on this. Thanks, a S2 fan! 💜

Hi anon! Thanks for the question.

I’ve already written pretty extensively about Simon’s arc in season 2 and why I like it in this post. In short, I think he grows a lot in season 2, but his growth takes him towards emotional vulnerability and openness, which is not something we’re used to seeing in characters (especially not male ones).

I also don’t mind how they address Simon’s trauma in season 2. I’m going to approach this momentarily not as a writer, but as someone who has been in therapy for years. There are some traumas that have happened to me (like a serious car accident when I was a kid) that are very concrete, with a set beginning and end, and that began to affect me right away. (I had ptsd symptoms pretty immediately after that accident). But there are other traumas that feel like a series of small cuts instead of one big punch. It’s harder to decide where they begin and end, and their effects are more subtle. Sometimes it takes me years to even realize that they were traumatic and that they are still affecting me. (The medical trauma I’ve experienced as an adult over several years is like this). To me this is more what Simon is dealing with with the video. Once the video goes online, it’s not coming down. There’s no set end date, and Simon spends most of season 2 not even knowing who the perpetrator was. He’s in the kind of no-man’s land between the initial blow and coming to understand how the whole process has affected him. That being said, I do think we see some changes in him that reflect what he’s gone through. He seems to care a lot less about his academic classes than he did in season 1. He’s writing music in an attempt to process what he’s been through. And you could even see his attempt to have sex with Marcus as a trauma response. The last time he hooked up with someone his agency was taken from him. So it makes sense to me that he’s eager to have sex again but fully on his own terms, to partially erase that feeling of not being in control. I don’t know for sure if this will happen, but I wouldn’t be surprised if we see more traditional ptsd symptoms from Simon in season 3. If there’s some sort of legal action against August that would signify a sort of “end” of the video trauma, and would also probably be re-traumatizing in a lot of ways. I also think interacting directly with the royal family might stir up some things as well.

Ok, now I’m going to totally switch gears and approach your question from a writing perspective. Let’s talk about story structure for a minute, specifically TV story structure. Most TV has an A plot and a B plot (and sometimes a C plot too). In old school cable procedurals, the A plot would be the mystery of the week, while the B plot would be about whatever was happening in the characters’ personal lives. If there was an overarching mystery or storyline that tied the whole season together, that would be the C plot. As you can guess by how they’re named, the A Plot would take up the most time and do the most to drive the episode forward. The B plot is next most important, etc. Once shows started to become more serialized in the age of streaming, the concept of A and B plots changed a little bit. Now the plots are divided by character and theme. The A plot will be headlined by the protagonist and will explore the main themes of the show. The B plot will be headlined by a secondary protagonist, who doesn’t have as much to do as the A plot lead, but is still answering a dramatic question that relates to the central themes of the show. A lot of times the primary and secondary protagonists’ actions influence each other, but they don’t share a ton of screen time. (If they did, their stories wouldn’t be separate.) You can think of the A and B plot protagonists as two sides of the same coin. They’re intricately connected, they’re exploring the same ideas, but they rarely come face to face, and they often represent different perspectives on the same themes. Black Sails is probably my favorite example of this. (I’m not as active in the Black Sails fandom as I am in the Young Royals fandom, but Black Sails is probably my all time favorite show and I absolutely love all the ungovernable pirates over in the Black Sails tag. Shout out to them). James Flint is the main protagonist and headliner of the A story, but Max is the secondary protagonist that headlines the B story. Both are struggling with the question of how to achieve and wield power in an unjust world, and their political maneuvers consistently influence each other’s plots. They share a lot of secondary characters across both of their plots, but they themselves never interact. So that’s one example, and if you look around at your favorite shows you’ll be able to find lots that adhere to this formula, including, I would say, Young Royals.

I think a lot of people are kind of subconsciously looking for this kind of structure, and have decided that Simon is the protagonist of the B plot. I understand this, because we all love Simon. He’s really well written and acted, his personality is so compelling, and his chemistry with Wilhelm is great. I spend a lot of time writing him in fic (I’m the writer of all the Simon content in Heart and Homeland) so I understand this impulse. But if you were looking for Simon to be anchoring the B plot in season 2, you might have been disappointed. Because in reality I don’t think he’s the secondary protagonist. I think Sara is.

Sara is set up as a foil to Wilhelm, the main protagonist, in so many ways. I always say that the driving dramatic question of Young Royals lives with Wilhelm, and it’s something along the lines of “should I conform and live the oppressive life that was designed for me, or rebel and find my own path to happiness?” Sara is wrestling with a similar question that’s kind of the inverse of this; for her settling into a prescribed role in the Hillerska class system initially seems like a relief. So maybe for her the dramatic question is something along the lines of “is the price of fitting in worth it? Will it lead to true happiness?” They feel so much like opposite sides of the same coin to me.

So Sara and Wilhelm are both trying to define themselves in relation to their families and also the class system. This comes up in the similarities of their family structure (they both feel very connected to their class position through their families; they both have complicated relationships with their mothers and bad to negligible relationships with their fathers; they both have a deep connection to their siblings) and in the relationships they choose to embark upon. They’re both navigating a very serious and complicated first love. They’re both dating across class (in the opposite direction, a perfect example of the “different views on the same theme” aspect of primary and secondary protagonists). They both have concerns about how and when their relationships become public, and by extension are both playing in the sandbox of themes around privacy and authenticity that define so much of the show.

Both have difficulty regulating and recognizing their emotions. Sara seems to exhibit alexithymia, a common aspect of autism that makes it hard to recognize one's own emotions. Wilhelm has been taught to repress his emotions, which he does well until he explodes (like when he got into the fight at the top of the series or when he yells at his mom on the phone). He’s also managing a lot of physical symptoms of anxiety.

Both also struggle with questions of justice and how to make things right. In the beginning of season 2, Wilhelm is initially determined to destroy August because he thinks August will never repent, but by the end of the season he’s starting to realize that this was the wrong technique. He realizes this largely because of Simon; he only puts down the gun and walks away from August because Simon does first. Sara makes the opposite journey: she starts by trusting that August will change and repent on his own, but then she is forced to confront the fact that this is not true, and that she needs to use the legal system to bring August to justice. She makes this realization largely because of Simon, and seeing the ways that she has hurt Simon, in the same scene with the gun.

The other big argument in support of Sara as the secondary protagonist of the show is that she and Wilhelm never directly interact. Their actions affect each other all the time, but they don’t share a scene together. They’re living on parallel but separate story tracks.

Simon is a crucial character in both Wilhelm and Sara’s stories, but the fact that he is close with both excludes him from being a protagonist of his own plot line. (I would say the same about August, who is a catalyst for both Wilhelm and Sara.) That doesn’t mean that Simon isn’t well written. He has a very compelling character arc, motivates much of the plot, and his relationship with Wilhelm forms the heart of the show. But I think the reason people were disappointed in his story in season 2 is that they were expecting something from him that the structure of the show doesn’t support.

If you’re interested in reading more about A/B/C plot structures I found this website really easy to understand. Also shout out to @bluedalahorse for talking to me about Wilhelm and Sara and helping me articulate what I was trying to say here.

Thanks again for the ask, anon and for the vote of confidence in my analysis! I really appreciate it. If anyone else has a Young Royals scene or question they want me to break down from a writing or cinematography perspective, my ask box is always open.

#young royals #my meta #ask box #writing break down #simon eriksson #wilhelm young royals #sara eriksson #prince wilhelm

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gffa · 5 months

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Hi! Loved your posts a lot. I love Nightwing and redhood .But the thing that annoyed a hell out of me is the way fandom jason is potrayed . Jason stans always want jason to be Nightwing 2.0.Their question is always like why jason isn't respected among heroes like dick? Why jason doesn't lead the titans like dick? .Was jason as good looking as dick?. Jason should be well suited to be spy than dick . Jaybabs is better than dickbabs.Dick is worst friend to roy. Jason should be Tim role model not dick.sometimes it confuses me if they both have same personality with different names. What's your thoughts on this.

I want to step carefully with this answer because I don't want to make it seem like Jason fans are a monolith (they're most definitely not, half of my Cool People in this fandom are the most excellent DC fans you'll ever meet and Jason is Their Guy!!!) or that I'm talking about anything other than a very specific subset of fans. And that any time I say "Jason fans", it is specifically about the subsection who falls into this, not the whole of his fandom!! And, as a caveat, I'm only talking about my experiences in Jason fandom--of which I do consider myself a part of!--but that someone else who is deeper into Jason fandom than I am may have COMPLETELY different experiences than what either you or I have experienced! And, to be clear, I will point the finger in any direction, that every Bat has a subset of fans that is deeply frustrating, Tim fans have it, Damian fans have it, Dick fans have it, Bruce fans have it, etc. Every one of them has that group of fans that I go ??? over. But also I think I should be clear in that I think we should try to approach other corners of fandom with empathy, because a) we're all annoying nerds to someone else as well, that's just what fandom is and b) this fandom is hostile enough over comic book characters of all things, I'm going to try to limit the amount of gasoline I throw on the fire. ;) I think what causes a lot of fanon Jason in a certain subset of fandom comes from a mix of - Not a lot of regular appearances/his own book/GOOD appearances in his own book/a consistent characterization in those books - A lot of people read more fic than they do the comics - People naturally want their babygirl to have nice things, that's a pretty human response - Jason was kind of created to be a Dick Grayson clone in the first place, in some ways, so it's a natural extension

Jason fans have it rough in canon because he is all over the place, he's not written consistently, so half of the time he's written as the woobie, half of the time he's written as two steps away from being full villain, and it feels like every author has a different take on how Jason sees himself or what he wants. It's hard to agree on what Jason's character is like/what the point of him in the larger comics landscape is, because even the canon can't agree on that. So, then you throw in all these epically long fics that are written by extremely talented authors, who have a consistent take within their own writing, which explores Jason's issues in a way that feels like it has a lot more depth and vulnerability to him, and it's easy to go, yeah, okay, comics are kind of thin, but now I have this strongly developed sense of him in my mind! And when comics don't match that, when Jason is meaner or more of a villain or less cool in the comics, because the comics didn't do all that character work, the fic did, it becomes easy to go, "This isn't what Jason deserves, he deserves to have his issues explored better!" And, like. Jason does deserve better than what Nu52 gave him. It's a thing that a lot of fic vs comics have--like, there's a subset of Tim's fandom that writes him as the most delicate character ever (there's a lot of fic that explores Tim's vulnerabilities, I am not talking about those!!!) and, guess what, has to make Dick a terrible person in those fics as well, like the whole "Dick tried to send Tim to Arkham" is a straight up lie about what happened, but how many of us have still come across it? Which I think comes from that Dick Grayson is a character that you just kind of can't remove from the foundational Batman narrative and mythos, like you can't remove Bruce and still get what you need for the set-up--but Bruce occupies the space of "Dad" for the characters, so he has a very different, defined place in the Robin Of Choice's life. Dick, on the other hand, you can't just lift him out--he created Robin, he was the one that dragged Bruce out of the dark in the first place and created the role of Adopted Kid Who Bruce Is Complicated About, and still occupies that space very strongly. Even when he hasn't been Robin in a long time, his shadow casts extremely long, because honestly I'll die on the hill that I think he's everyone's favorite Robin to this day. Bruce? Yeah. Jason? Yeah. Tim? Yeah. Damian? Even if he never met Robin!Dick, I'd bet he's still say Dick was his favorite Robin. Superman? Explicitly said it in a comic.

(And I feel like there's an element that can be explored on how Dick also set the expectation of how to grow out of being Robin--he moved on to being Nightwing, so we expect that of the other Robins. I've been complaining forever that Tim needs to be allowed to finally do this, to step out of being Robin and not just be Red Robin, but to find his own unique thing. And, honestly, that probably does look more like Nightwing than not. I think there's an expectation that eventually Damian will realize that he doesn't want to be Batman and will instead be something else--or at least that it's a strong possibility. Which again looks a lot more like Nightwing than it maybe should. Because what else do you do with characters when you want to establish them out on their own? So Jason should follow that same path, right? He's kind of halfway onto it, with being Red Hood now, it's just that Red Hood has such a complicated history with how many people he's murdered, so what other options should there be? And patterning him after Nightwing, just as his Robin was patterned off of Dick's Robin in a lot of ways, could be a natural step forward for him there, too.) So, the specter of Dick Grayson hangs over the role and the Bat-son's place in Bruce's life--two things that are big issues in Jason's life. Then you add in that Jason was basically created to replace Dick Grayson exactly, like you can't even tell the difference in half of the panels of Jason's time as Robin if you don't already know. Then you add in that, to try to flesh out Roy's character, they gave him Roy and Kory as friends, two people who were Dick's friends first. And that makes sense--who else would you have as Jason's friends, given his general age? The Justice League is too old for him, Young Justice is too young for him, the only major team in his age bracket are the Titans--characters he does have some connection with, via Roy and Kory. And it's a natural question of, well, why didn't Jason lead them, too? Because Dick lead a team, Tim lead a team, it felt like a thing Robin was supposed to do, to the point that, when Dick introduced Damian to the Teen Titans, he automatically assumed he would lead (well, that's also just Damian XD) because that's what Robins do, why shouldn't Jason, too? So, I see where all of it comes from and understand the appeal--it's a lot more fun than the canon for Jason can be at times and feels like it understands his character better and fanon Jason is a lot more likeable and there's often times a lot that's explore that is really, really good character stuff. I think a lot of Dick's characteristics get ported over to Jason because there's just not as much else established for him in the canon, whether friends or a solidified narrative presence or even a consistent characterization, and Dick's a fun character, he has a rich history of friends and complicated dynamics with characters, like his relationship with Bruce is ridiculously fun to dig into, his relationship with Jason can actually be really interesting, his relationship with Tim is both adorable and has some nice crunch, his relationship with Damian is heart-wrenching--who wouldn't want a character with a wealth of dynamics and characterization to step into? Especially when you go back to canon and Jason's borderline a villain who isn't justified in killing people but still does it anyway, whose trauma is not getting explored in a way that's as satisfying as fanon's version of him is, because canon Jason is a lot more of a hot mess and stepped over the line, while fanon Jason tends to be more righteous and still on the right side of the line. (Or at least intended to, there's a lot of "Jason should be allowed to kill people and not be a bad guy for it." out there.) I think this is why I get a lot of Jason fans reblogging my comics posts about canon who yell at me for liking garbage comics when, guys, I'm just reacting to what's actually on the page for Jason.

Jason is a character who has this massive fandom that has been built up around the potential of the character, much of which had to be borrowed from Dick because that's the only really available options and because his central relationship (the one with Bruce) has so many parallels to Dick's relationship (with Bruce) and because Dick being who he is means that he's very easy to like (Dick's not perfect and I'm certainly biased here, but I do genuinely think that Dick is pretty easy to like as a person) and because he has such a rich history of dynamics and relationships that fans see as being really fun to explore, if only Jason had had those relationships instead. I suspect a lot of it comes down to that there's this massive fandom for Jason--fic, posts about him, fanart of him, headcanons for him, etc., throw a rock in fandom and you'll hit a popular post that has Jason as their babygirl Blorbo--and comics themselves don't often match that and comics fandom are pretty notorious for hating their source material/throwing it out in a way that's borderline assumed default MO, so Jason fans aren't any different from people complaining that this comic or that comic coming out right now are garbage. Anyway, that's been my experience. It's not that Jason fandom doesn't do unique things with Jason's character (his death is different from what Dick's experienced, his relationship with Bruce does often come in different flavors, etc.) but the places where they overlap are ones that I can understand why it happens, even if I often personally find that it doesn't match up to who he is in the source material now and feel like there's a lot of really good, crunchy unexplored angles for a character who has been deeply hurt, but went over the line about it, like that's why the recent short story in Beast World Tour: Gotham went so hard for me, because it felt like it had teeth and claws in a way that I've been wanting for Jason for a long time.

#lumi.txt #dc #batfam #jason todd

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edoro · 8 hours

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Dunmeshi spoilers, talking about Thistle and Delgal

the more i think about it, the less i feel like the text of Dunmeshi really does support the interpretation that Delgal didn't love Thistle

like, yes, he absolutely did use Thistle, and displayed a clear sense of entitlement towards him - the baseline expectation that if he had a problem, Thistle could and would solve it, and then the idea that once he'd set Thistle to solve a problem he could just... turn that solution off when he felt like it ("we've been here a while now, isn't it time we left the dungeon?" <-words of a man who has not truly grasped what he asked for, what Thistle did to fulfill it, or what any of the repercussions of this are)

there's also an interesting thread of carelessness when it comes to his physical interactions with Thistle during high-emotion moments, like when he grabs onto Thistle by Eodio's sickbed or when he thumps Thistle on the back after Thistle summons monsters to kill their enemies and then brings that kid's dead dad back to life

it feels like he's a large dog who doesn't realize how big he is, or perhaps doesn't realize how small and delicate Thistle is, and perhaps at times is very aware of it and uses his size to intimidate/express his frustration

all of that aside, though, i think it's very clear that prior to Thistle becoming dungeon lord and tbh for a decent chunk of time at the beginning of his tenure as dungeon lord, Delgal had a very emotionally intimate relationship with him

i don't think you can sort them neatly into the categories of older vs younger sibling. they've both been both at different times, depending on how you measure it. Thistle is certainly older chronologically, and there was a chunk of Delgal's life - a very formative chunk, too - where Thistle was older, smarter, and stronger, where Thistle looked out for him and protected him and taught him things.

and then there were a few years where they were at the same developmental level... and then Delgal outgrew Thistle. he got bigger and older physically and he matured mentally past the point where Thistle was. not only that, but he became king, and while Thistle may have been raised alongside him like a brother, that doesn't make Thistle a prince - he was first and foremost a servant (and property) of the crown, even if his position meant he enjoyed a close relationship with the king, queen, and prince.

but that doesn't make Thistle necessarily the little brother - he is now, but it seems to me that there's still a part of him and Delgal that sees him as someone with the power to comfort and protect and teach, rather than someone who needs to be comforted and protected and taught

take the scene where Delgal says he's afraid of dying after his father was killed: that's an extremely tender, intimate, emotional scene. Delgal is crying while Thistle strokes his hair and promises to protect him. Delgal, the king, is being vulnerable in a way he absolutely cannot with most people, and Thistle sees his vulnerability and offers not only comfort but the promise of safety - don't worry, i'll make it better, i'll chase away the monsters under your bed, i won't let anything bad happen to you, i won't let anyone hurt you.

Delgal sees him as someone to seek that comfort from and Thistle sees himself as being in a position to give that comfort. he yearns for Delgal's attention and approval but also sees himself as Delgal's protector.

and then we have scenes like the one where Thistle resurrected that kid's dad, where he sees everyone staring at him in the aftermath of this bloody route and a bit of casual necromancy and realizes they're unsure, even scared of him, and it's Delgal who steps in and changes the mood by thumping Thistle on the back and praising him; Delgal who manages the crowd and keeps Thistle safe, setting the expectation for how everyone should react, lending his social cachet to Thistle in this moment to protect him from backlash

they go back and forth like this with each other, and i think it's one of the most interesting things about their relationship. no one else in Delgal's family has the same kind of relationship with Thistle. no one else knows him as well or loves him like Delgal does. no one else is close with him like that.

ultimately, i don't think you can look at the way he sought comfort from Thistle after his father's death and think that there isn't love and emotional intimacy there. the real tragedy is that Delgal always loved Thistle, but he never understood Thistle, and his inability to do so combined with his general passivity and avoidance played a big part in things getting as fucked up as they did.

#thistle #delgal #dunmeshi

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manderleyfire · 5 months

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hey, ali! i feel your pain about the tbosas adaptation! i cried so much during the movie but not because i felt emotional, seeing MY book comes alive on screen but because we were robbbbbbbbbbed and shot 😞😞😞😞😞😞 anyways, what's your opinion on the music tho? fav/least fav song? (my is the oldtherebefore and least fav the 0livia r0drigo's one)

hey, lollis!

‘robbed and shot’, exactly. i couldn’t have said it better myself because unfortunately, that’s spot on 🥲

I LOVED THE MUSIC! a dystopian reflection of our reality through intentional use of folk/bluegrass music is something that resonates strongly with me. i mean, they knew how to strike the right chord in the hearts of book readers for sure! *the only other thing i wish was different about the music it's the variety of tempo and rhythm because as much as i LOVED the unified sound of LG's songs, i would prefer each song to have its own individual tune and ~aura)

my absolute favourite adaptation that they did was 'nothing you can take from me' (boot-stompin’ version); i am utterly in awe of the powerful passionate energy that they gave to this song?? also i loveeed the similarity of rhythm and tone between 'nothing you can take from me' and a traditional american folk song 'man of constant sorrow', i kinda feel it was a deliberate parallel which worked just great. (also i’m glad they added maude ivory’s 'keep on the sunny side'!)

my least favourite is perhaps 'the ballad of lucy gray baird'?.. and though i did enjoy rachel’s rendition (she copies a young dolly parton in such a warm-hearted respectful manner!), and the respect for traditional appalachian music, she sang it in a cheerful 'to hell with you!' manner which is less intense and intimate that i remember it from the book to be? to quote tbosas here: 'the haunting melody set the tone, and her words did the rest as she began to sing in a voice husky from smoke and sadness' – the movie version really failed to capture both the haunting tune (their version doesn't really tell the story musically because of a major key) and the lucy gray's vulnerability here for me. in the book she did what carrie fisher told us all to do: 'take your broken heart and turn it into art' while in the movie she isn't even angry at billy taupe?? like his betrayal (and her place in the games) is not a big deal? she's openly rebellious and sassy with out of place 'i need no man' attitude and that simply didn't work for me personally.

it took some time for 'pure as the driven snow' to grow on me (i expected it to be more of a waltz-like, similar to maiah wynne's cover), but i'm coming around to it. yet… i wish it was STAGED differently??? they had to combine certain scenes and songs in the film but it was such a SURREAL idea to meld PATDS with 'sell you for a song' setting? and it took away so much from that moment of love and connection and unconditional acceptance, where lucy gray is finally ready to be emotionally unshielded in front of her lover (maybe for the first time ever)?? it was a PIVOTAL snowbaird moment but they needed to blend two songs together because obviously PATDS can't be love confession in form of a song because it should be taken as an ominous warning instead (duh!). 'bitch you better not turn out to be a bad guy even tho i knew you were a villain all along' :??? and it could've worked in its own angst-y way, if there had been any development in snowbaird love story?? but since movie!they are full on survival the whole time (there's no canonical teetering on the edge of an actual fondness/love and survival instinct), PATDS makes no sense at all. so… i extremely frustrated by the use of PATDS on screen but at the same time i love the sound of the full version on the soundtrack album.

annnd i'm actually IN PAIN because they had the audacity to leave so many songs out?? especially given their ties to the original trilogy?? 'deep in the meadow' aka rue's song???? 'the valley song' aka the one peeta mentioned seeing katniss sing at school when they were children???? the festive 'crawling to you' ('that thing i love with') likely performed at finnick’s wedding?? idk maybe it's a musical nerd who is speaking in me but i wish they could have included more of the book songs at least on the album, if not in the actual movie (even tho i'm still sure, it would've been possible to present the whole complexity of this book AND its poetic side too, if they decided to split the film in two).

[the score album wasn't much to talk about but 'snow lands on top' piece tho… vivid, striking, remarkable]

#wifeofthewolves #ask #my ramblings #dolly sorry it's a bit longer and more spiteful than i expected it to be #i have to agree with you 'the old therefore' is mesmerizing and breathtaking + rachel's vocals are phenomenal there #i'm not a fan of how aggressive her portrayal of lucy gray generally was #but that raw anger in 'the old therefore' felt so right it reminded me of eva noblezada's eurydice even #btw rachel's first line from 'the reaping song' sounds so similiar to samantha's eponine #actually first time i heard it i was so shocked i stopped the song to immediately rewind it back to the beginning lol #and i'm glad i listened to the album before i watched the movie #because welllllllll the music is better #i wish we could've replaced 'can't catch me now' with any canon song tho because i really don't care about miss rodrigo #also also the movie’s musical arrangement of the wordsworth song is kind of boring sorry #anywayssssss tell me more what do you think

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lostywrites · 8 months

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“He’s been refusing to talk to me. I was hoping he’d open up to you,” Max’s muffled words floated through the closed door, reaching the speedster’s ears. Sulking in his room for hours after arriving home, Bart had ignored Max’s attempts at conversation. He vaguely detected Superboy’s voice, but his frustration with Robin had eclipsed any remnants of desire for social interaction.

The door opened, Superboy's concerned voice now seeping into his private space. His bedroom resembled a chaotic collage, with clothes, underwear, and comic books strewn haphazardly across the floor.

“Hey, Imp,” Superboy greeted while effortlessly defying gravity to reach Bart perched atop his bunk.

Shoulders hunched and gaze affixed to the floor, Bart sat on the edge of the bed, his legs dangling. “Just leave me alone.” The words were heavy with a mix of despondency and a stubborn determination to wallow in self-pity.

Superboy sat alongside the brooding speedster, his voice quiet. “You know, Robin was angry because he cares about you. Gotham’s a dangerous place, and he’s lost people he cared about. The Joker triggered some dark memories.”

Impulse’s voice was bitter. “So now I’m a burden he has to protect? I’m not some helpless kid. I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can, Bart. But sometimes, it’s okay to listen to those who have more experience in dealing with certain criminals. Robin didn’t want you to get hurt.”

“He didn't have to throw it in my face like that. And I’ve had my share of battles, too, y’know. He’s not even super-powered like us. Strip away the gadgets, weapons and martial arts, and Rob wouldn’t last a minute against the kind of criminals I’ve confronted solo.”

“Robin may not have super powers, but that doesn’t make him any less of a fighter.”

Impulse’s shoulders slumped, his anger deflating. “I know that. I just don’t want him to be mad at me. I didn’t come to Gotham to fight crime with Batman. I was there to see him...to, you know, pull a prank or two and get a few laughs...”

“Okay I really gotta ask. What’s with the pranks?” Superboy's tone held a touch of amusement. “Why do you always mess with Robin?”

Bart’s lips curled into a mischievous grin. “Well, he’s always so serious and intense. It’s fun to see if I can crack that tough exterior...”

Superboy raised an eyebrow, his gaze lingering on Bart. “Is that the only reason?” he asked, playfully nudging the speedster.

“Yeah, pretty much. It’s just my way of having fun.”

“Really, Bart?” Superboy's voice held a note of scepticism. “It seems like you target him more than anyone else. Why haven’t I ever been on the receiving end of one of your pranks?”

Bart slumped his shoulders and sighed. “Alright, fine. Maybe there’s another reason...”

“Spill it.” Superboy prodded.

Bart hesitated before admitting, “I like getting his attention, okay? When I pull a prank or mess with Robin, he pays attention to me, even if it’s to scold me.”

“You know, sometimes when we’re drawn to someone’s attention like that, it might mean something more.”

Bart’s eyes widened, and he looked at Superboy with a mix of surprise and anxiety. “Whaddaya mean?”

“Do you think you might have a crush on Robin?”

“What?” Bart’s expression shifted from surprise to denial. “No way! It’s not like that.”

Superboy sprang off the bunk bed and levitated in front of Bart. “Feelings happen. It’s normal to feel some sort of attraction to someone. If you do like Robin, there’s no shame in admitting it.”

Bart’s gaze flickered, his feelings were obvious despite his attempts to hide them. “Alright, fine. I do have a crush on Robin. Happy now?” He then shoved Superboy away. “Get out!”

Superboy grinned, refusing to budge. “Hey I’m just glad you’re being honest with yourself. And if you ever wanna talk about it, I’m here. I’m serious. I’m not here to make fun of you, I promise. I just wanna make sure you’re okay.”

As Bart looked at Superboy, he felt a mixture of vulnerability and relief. Confronting his emotions was both daunting and liberating, and with Superboy being aware of his true feelings for Robin, he knew he wouldn't have to navigate his emotions alone.

“Promise me you won’t say anything to anyone...especially Rob.”

“Your feelings are yours to share when you’re ready. I won’t say anything unless you want me to.”

After hours of hanging out and playing video games, Superboy had gone home for the night and Bart found himself restless. His thoughts were consumed by a myriad of emotions he had been grappling with—his frustration and crush on Robin.

Unable to silence the clamour within his mind, Bart finally emerged from his bedroom, his destination set as the kitchen. His quest? To find solace in a late-night snack, perhaps a towering sandwich layered with succulent cured hams and melted cheese...

“What are you doing up this late? It’s a school night.” Max’s voice caught him off guard. The old man had been waiting in the dark in the living room.

The floor lamp then flickered to life, revealing Max, donned in his cosy old man jammies, sitting comfortably in his favourite armchair.

Bart took a deep breath before delving into what had been preoccupying his thoughts. “Max, what does it feel like to fall for someone and they don’t even notice?”

“Oh boy, I had a feeling we’d be having this conversation sooner or later,” Max muttered. His expression softened as he understood the nature of Bart’s inquiry. “Well, it’s not an uncommon feeling. Falling for someone and not having them notice can be tough. It can make you feel both excited and frustrated at the same time.”

Bart’s brows furrowed, his gaze searching. “But what if you want them to notice, but you’re scared they won’t feel the same way?”

Max’s smile was kind, his words carrying a hint of wisdom. “That’s a common fear, Bart. It’s natural to be afraid of rejection. You can’t control someone else’s feelings. All you can do is be yourself and be honest about your own emotions.”

Bart’s shoulders relaxed, a sense of relief washing over him. “But what if being honest feels too risky?”

He followed Max into the kitchen. The consistent rumbling in his stomach reminded him that he hadn’t eaten since he phased through the front door and into his bedroom that afternoon.

Yet, it appeared that Max had already tended to dinner. While seated at the dining table, Bart’s attention was drawn to Max setting down a plateful of fried chicken steak, complemented by a serving of crunchy green beans and a tempting slice of cornbread, all wholesomely prepared and set aside for him.

“Sometimes, taking that risk is what opens the door to something beautiful,” Max continued. “And even if the feelings aren’t reciprocated, it’s better to know where you stand.”

Comfortable with expressing himself through actions rather than words, Bart wrapped Max in a tight hug, conveying his appreciation to the veteran speedster.

“You always know what to say and do the right things to make me feel better,” Bart admitted sincerely.

Max’s smile was warm. “You’re still young, and you have plenty of time to navigate life’s challenges. Just be patient with yourself,” he advised, affectionately ruffling Bart’s hair before leaving the kitchen. “Now, cheer up and finish your supper. Everything’s going to be fine.”