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fitzjamesbulletwound · 3 days ago

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if you ever wanted to hear my every thought on fitzier you're in luck because here it is! this is extremely long so it's going under the cut and if you read it all, i love you

fitzier- shame, performance, and the freeing ordeal of being known

oh man okay here we go everyone, if this sucks or is too stupid or too anything feel free to kill me

essentially what i want to try to convey here is that the reason crozier and fitzjames go from enemies to friends to lovers is because they both see each other and see themselves in each other in a way that frightens and compels them, hence the early enmity with a tinge of familiarity and desperation to connect thrown in. with the inevitable evolution of their relationship i really think it becomes about learning to be vulnerable with one another, to give each other space to be who they need to be, both to each other and their subordinates, and finally coming to a point where fitzjames, the most performative insecure character in the story (to me), bares his entire soul to crozier, whose own character development allows him to give james the gift of acceptance and compassion in that moment. i’m not going to go episode by episode like i did with my joplittle post but this is more or less in chronological order with maybe a few exceptions idk i get possessed when i write this stuff

the first scene we’ve got to look at is of course the dinner scene. james is absolutely showboating like no other in this scene but in his body language you can see he isn’t confident at all- fidgeting, gesturing, exaggerating, the voice he tends to put on in early episodes prevalent. but when crozier interrupts him you can see for a split second that james was actually excited to get attention from him until he realizes what he’s saying. in the early episodes james craves crozier’s attention and approval so badly because he knows that crozier doesn’t bullshit and he sees things for what they are and isn’t afraid to voice that either and despite the fact that this sometimes makes james uncomfortable as it is not in line with victorian ideals of emotional expression and masculinity, i think james, given the kind of man he is at the start of the story, craves the recognition of a man who he knows would see everything in him. early early early foreshadowing and story weaving for the cairn scene where he realizes “he can tell this man anything. it is possible”

what i also find fascinating about early james and francis is that they still refer to one another in a very familiar way despite the fact that they openly dislike each other- it’s always first name basis even when they’re arguing. also interesting to note that crozier in the beginning will often call him “fitzjames” in front of others when he’s discussing him when he’s not in the room, but later on he makes sure to always use his proper title when he’s talking about him in front of the men- showing james respect even when he dislikes him. i think he doesn’t understand at the time that james’s familiarity with him is an attempt at respect as well (the whole ‘don’t ever call me francis again’ scene). it might be a stretch but i do get the sense that from the very beginning they both tried at being friendly, even just for the sake of maintaining order in command.

when francis says “here technology still bends the knee to luck james” in ep 1 he says it with almost a mentor-like cadence. like yeah they’re both being a little bitchy here but god knows franklin wasn’t giving fitzjames any real or pertinent advice about surviving and navigating the fucking arctic so i find it interesting that crozier almost gently reminds him that yeah they’re making decent progress but that it would be foolish to let their guard down

one of my favorite early fitzier scenes is after dinner when crozier, franklin, and fitzjames are all on deck and fitzjames like sidles up to crozier and looks him up and down and just goes “goodnight francis” with that smirk on his face- he was trying so hard to flirt with him while also being an insufferable bitch with “try to shake the brown study”. but also james lingers so long waiting for francis to say something to him and then shakes his head and walks away to go bitch to franklin about him- i think he is truly hurt in this instance along with being angry and annoyed. and i love that complication because on one hand, i do think that fitzjames thinks that crozier owes him friendship or at the very least recognition because of who james believes himself to be, or at least who he’s trying to be- like he DOES probably see crozier as being beneath him as an irishman but i do think he genuinely wants his friendship and approval as well, for self serving reasons but not entirely. it’s about fitzjames and his desire to be seen by everyone around him in a certain light but also about his desire to be seen specifically by crozier because of who crozier is and how he acts in contrast to everyone else around them

next on the agenda is “dramatic opening shot”... fitzjames girl you are the most dramatic man in the fucking room. the projection is crazy. what this scene reveals most importantly i think is that another thing about francis that james is secretly very envious of is his ability to openly disagree with franklin. there are so many moments later on where you can see that james doesn’t fully believe in what franklin is saying or commanding (the way he looks at him when they realize they are trapped in the pack, the ways he looks at him when he tells fitzjames to escort silna off of erebus right after her father has died) and i think that he envies francis’s ability to challenge franklin and not care what the consequences are. anyway the staredown during this scene is crazy, the tension??

moving on… beginning of ep 1 crozier says “not if fitzjames is with us” in reference to jop saying dinner will be over before he knows it, and at the beginning of ep 2 fitzjames says “do you think francis will honor us with his presence today”- for two people who allegedly hate each other they sure do think about each other and find reasons to bring each other up in conversation a lot!

ahh the scene with silna’s father- fitzjames is so interesting to me in this scene and really illustrates one of my favorite things about him in the earlier episodes which is that when he goes silent his face journeys are amazing and really convey his true feelings that he won’t say out loud for various reasons. he watches crozier so much in this scene and looks to him for understanding and guidance which is also interesting because i do think that in this scene he’s watching silna, a woman who he probably sees as subhuman and alien, reacting with such grief and tenderness to her father’s death and probably thinking of his relationship with his own father. i know a lot of people speculate that he was just feeling empathy for her there and i do think that’s part of it but i think that to show that in his mind would be to out himself as being “not fully english”. i think i make this point later on in the story too but fitzjames really does that classic white supremacist thing of distancing yourself from “otherness” in order to align yourself with imperialist beliefs and status- he does it with silna and he does it with crozier. sorry this is also turning into my fitzjames character study lol.

the scene where crozier walks out after his big blow up with franklin… i get that james really didn’t have any place to try to hide the fact that he was eavesdropping but i find it so interesting that he decides to turn to face francis and look him directly in the eye. from what we can see of his expression i personally think there was at least a small amount of sympathy there. another attempt to extend friendship and familiarity while actively participating in crozier’s humiliation… god i hate him lol. and the face that james is making when francis first walks out before he turns around is contemplative, not like smug or triumphant or anything like we might expect given how much he seems to dislike crozier at this point. and francis looking back at him… there’s no anger there, just sadness and humiliation and it sucks. i would truly do anything to be able to see james’s face there, in the script it says that crozier can tell how much james heard from the look on his face which like??? could mean so much.

okay the face journey when francis walks into the erebus wardroom after sir john dies… his eyes stay on fitzjames who’s obviously extremely distraught and i wonder if crozier has ever seen fitzjames show genuine emotion up until this point? crozier then looks to blanky, who also looks to fitzjames almost as if to say “look at him, attend to him” and the sorrow and vulnerability on francis’s face when he looks again to james who is of course also showing a vulnerability we haven’t seen from him before. i love the note in the script that fitzjames isn’t used to being this candid or vulnerable in front of a man he doesn’t respect but he does it anyway. and i don’t think he knows how much sympathy crozier does have for him despite how callous he may come across when he says to send out the rescue parties. they both just fail so spectacularly at communication and expression early on, it’s crazy to see

when francis begins reading from the eulogy and stumbles over his words fitzjames gives him a very sharp look… i think he clocks his alcoholism starting to really affect him right away but may also be looking to see if the stumble is due to emotion or the alcohol. ugh and the look he gives him at the end too… it’s so piercing and there’s an anger to it as well. almost a “please prove me wrong but i don’t believe at this point that you will”. because for better or worse now they are linked, intertwined, married and they have to find a way to make it work.

ohhhh the fitzier dinner scene my beloved… “as i climbed the ridge” is such a parallel to james’s chinese sniper story scene!! AND this time it’s fitzjames who derisively interrupts crozier. The parallels, the callbacks… the look he gives fitzjames is crazy when fitzjames says “you should curb that for now” but what i find the most interesting about this scene is that the script makes a point to say that fitzjames was being sincere when he said that to crozier- there is care and concern there underneath the frustration and anger. and then it’s also wild that in that moment, fitzjames clearly reminds crozier of sophia. the way the narrative almost shifts to replace crozier’s love interest (sophia) with his burgeoning relationship with fitzjames is soooooo. i just love this scene because they are both trying so hard to be vulnerable and open with one another but they are both failing so spectacularly just like in the scene after sir john dies. they don’t have the respect and rapport between them yet to back up what they desperately want from each other- a connection. a camaraderie. leadership and capability. fitzjames tries to be sincere in his concern for francis but it is overshadowed by his frustration and anger towards what he views to be a sour outlook from crozier, and crozier attempts to be vulnerable with james by sharing about sophia only to be met with the knowledge that franklin has humiliated him yet again by discussing that topic with other people aboard the ship. and i think fitzjames does truly pity francis in that moment but it also frustrates him that that is the reason he’s here, for love, not for a yearning for adventure or glory- which i would venture to say is why fitzjames is there. fitzjames went on the expedition to prove his worth and francis went for love and they both ended up finding exactly those things from one another i’m dead.

oh and also why the fuck does fitzjames arch his slutty back against the wall when francis walks out of the room like that one scene in hannibal y’all know what i’m talking about. okay and i forgot about the way fitzjames jabs his finger at francis all up in his personal space which is just so unlike him. it is also worth noting that francis doesn’t get angry at this- he actually stills for a second and then continues to tell james what he was going to tell him. again there’s that strange familiarity they have despite the fact that they hate each other at this point. and that’s to say nothing of how they’re sitting in the first place which is so close to each other idk it just seems a little crazy to me?

i also find it so so interesting how james chooses to be honest with francis once he accidentally reveals that franklin discussed the whole sophia thing with him- he could’ve deflected and said like “oh yeah he mentioned it in passing’ or something like that but he chose to tell francis the truth of the conversation! francis really brings out an honest and candid side to james that we don’t see him put on for anyone else and i think it’s because deep down he knows that no matter how shitty, francis is always going to respect being told the truth vs. all of the obfuscating language that is so typical of the time. i think this is also why in the next episode francis insists that everyone leaves after he punches fitzjames and fitzjames is very resigned to it as well- they both know that it’s going to be ugly but they both want to hash out the truth of the situation for better or worse- like yeah they are at each other’s throats and they want the catharsis of screaming at each other because they’re so mad at each other here but i also think they crave honesty and candidness in their interactions- james because he feels like a fake and francis because it’s his nature- but both because it’s what they want from each other. and back to the dinner scene- just another look of genuine hurt from fitzjames when crozier says “keep your pity” plus the whole reason crozier even says that- i don’t think he expects pity from anyone at this point and doesn’t know how to respond to it.

in the scene where fitzjames says they should question silna about the creature crozier makes a point to say he agrees with him- he does this a couple of different times throughout the show and i think it’s a very small but important detail about how even when they aren’t on the best terms he makes sure to show james respect in front of the officers. and like yeah they end up yelling at each other here but i think that’s more james’s grief showing (again he shows emotion in front of/because of francis) and francis’s stress showing as well- that “we’re all exhausted” is very aimed at james but also an attempt to explain his own state of mind. they’re trying!!!!

the lashing scene- i don’t think we’ve ever seen fitzjames actually afraid of crozier but he definitely is here. he’s clenching his hands so hard throughout the whole scene and he keeps glancing at crozier as he allows the lashing to go on and even nervously gulps at one point. i think this along with crozier’s worsening addiction is a huge catalyst for where we find them and their dynamic in ep 5.

and speaking of which- at the beginning of the episode you can really see how their communication has just completely broken down. edward is basically bridging the gap between them and the resentment is growing. i know that the alcoholism is part of it, we can only assume that fitzjames started to keep his distance once he could tell it was getting bad, but i also think a lot of this is fall out from the lashing and how it affected the way fitzjames felt about crozier as stated earlier. and another aspect of the widening gap between fitzjames and crozier is how erebus is the very picture of order while terror is literally and figuratively falling apart

the fact that fitzjames told collins to watch out for crozier running out of alcohol on terror is further evidence that fitzjames was around a bit to witness crozier’s alcoholism getting really bad and isolated himself after that. he’s angry but he knows it was coming

ugh man the fight scene- the fact that james came himself, alone, to terror to talk to francis as a friend (straight from his own mouth in the script of their argument) about the alcohol issue. even though james is furious and stressed and shouldering the whole expedition, he still attempts to care for francis, it just ends up blowing up in his face and that’s when he lashes out. the way he says “francis” at first before crozier freaks out on him is in such a sincere and gentle tone and just the fucking genuine hurt in his face and his tone of voice when francis tells him to never call him by his first name again. fitzjames cared when francis was at his fucking lowest but still held him responsible and that’s love baby.

the body language is crazy when they’re yelling at each other or i guess when fitzjames is reading francis lol- and the way crozier can’t take his eyes off fitzjames when he’s telling everyone to get out. he’s so ready for this fucking throw down because both of them have been holding this in for so long. crozier is amped up but fitzjames is resigned to finally getting it all out in the open. he wants it to happen and he knows it needs to. even after getting punched in the mouth by him (i don’t think it’s any accident that fitzjames literally bears a scar from that punch and that it comes back open when he’s dying of scurvy) fitzjames still calmly tells everyone yes get out and says what he needs to say. i love the transcript of their argument because it’s so brutal but it really illustrates a kind of fucked up intimacy that we aren’t 100% privy to between them. crozier knows exactly what to say to james to hurt him- telling him he doesn’t have friends, he has admirers and that james has always been mad that he isn’t one, that james is a coward despite the fact that james is facing this down no matter what it takes in order to literally save crozier’s life; and james knows that all he can do is soldier through and lay the truth of what is happening on francis in a way no one else has dared to except for silna minutes before. james really goes out of his comfort zone- being honest and sincere and vulnerable for the sake of the expedition but also for francis. and i’m reading this back and wondering if i’m being too generous to james here but tbh he had every right to be this angry at francis at this point in the story!

ha fitzjames walks into the “i need to dry out meeting” looking all submissive and contrite… but for real his face is so open and entreating in this scene. he’s still annoyed but he wants so badly for things to go right. and you can see in francis’s expression that he is so ashamed to have to ask him

mmm and part of fitzjames coming to love and respect crozier is seeing jopson’s devotion to him in this scene… he’s never seen crozier be admired the way franklin was and i think this is a whole new way for him to see him. and just in general here i think that james “reshuffles everything he thought about the man” and he admires crozier for the way he put his humility and vulnerability in front of him finally and admitted to his wrongs, something i also don’t think franklin would ever do and didn’t ever do, to his and the entire crew’s demise. fitzjames followed franklin and looked up to him in the pursuit of his own vanity and the narrative he tells himself to cover the shame, but he learns to respect and love francis because he watches his evolution as a captain and as a man without any of the obfuscating that he’s used to from authority figures. he watches francis claw his way out of his own shame, the shame that drives him forward and i wonder what kind of ideas that gave fitzjames and how it influenced his own decision to share everything about his past with francis later

what i love about the opening scene of ep 6 is that we see how fitzjames’s leadership has been influenced by franklin and francis but specifically how he is acting more like francis- he does do a little bit of the whole “how dare you bring up anything unpleasant” thing when he yells at jirv for mentioning the number of men and when he does the whole “oh it’s just winter, we’ll feel better with the first sunrise, encourage the men with that” thing but it’s interesting because although we’re hearing echoes of franklin here, fitzjames is still trying to be more honest and open to feedback than franklin was. he doesn’t exactly take jirv’s advice on rationing but he does ration a bit. he is doing the whole toxic positivity thing with his “use that to encourage the men” line but he is also recognizing how hard everything has been for everyone and using an actual tangible event to lift spirits rather than referring to meaningless bullshit about god and country. and the simple fact that he seeks blanky’s advice and knowledge is more than sir john would ever have done in a scenario like this. he understands from blanky’s story about ross that he himself hasn’t been doing enough to combat the horror of their situation for the men, he understands that he must do more. even the way he asks ‘what do you mean’ when blanky says ross had no sympathy for the ill. to not care for the ill is an alien concept to him. tt’s so interesting because fitzjames occupies a space not dissimilar to francis’s- he has access and power in the hierarchy of the discovery service but, within his own mind, he is still an outsider. crozier on the other hand is a visible and tangible outsider due to his birth and his nationality. everyone can see it and i think that’s also part of why fitzjames is so antagonistic towards francis in the beginning- the projection goes crazy and in the true spirit of colonialism and white supremacy, james believes that if he can make himself as far apart from someone like francis as possible and align himself with men like franklin and barrow despite sharing way more similarities with francis than he does with them, he can succeed in upholding himself as the vision of victorian masculinity and social worthiness that he so desperately tries to emulate- this is what i was thinking about during the scene with silna’s father where he’s reluctant to fully show his (partial) sympathy to her

the line from the script that kills me is when it says a clock has begun for fitzjames once he discovers the blood in his hair… god it kills me, he knew he was dying for months. for literal months and who knows if he even told anyone but… i do think he had to have told francis at some point. it makes me so sick, it’s literally why the cairn walk scene happens- he knew he was dying, he knew it and one of the last things he wanted before he died was for someone to see him, truly see him flaws and mistakes and vanity and all before he died. and he wanted that person to be francis

gotta include the scene where james tells edward that francis was right about walking out- this is a huge turning point from ep 1

it’s so funny that when crozier and fitzjames see each other at carnival you can tell james is like “oh shit i’m in trouble” but crozier is just slightly amused seeing him like that and even though he finds the carnival strange and sees how reckless it was, he doesn’t chide james or the men about it even though that’s cleary what james is expecting. crozier empathizes with their longing for home and their need to do something happy and uses that momentum to tell the men about walking out and doing his best to reassure them about their chances. the way fitzjames looks up at him and nods along with him- i don’t think we’ve seen fitzjames look at him like that yet up until this point. he is seeing francis for who he can be as a competent captain and we are seeing crozier really step into that role. i also think that francis was relieved that fitzjames saw the urgency in walking out and that he wasn’t going to have to convince him the way he would’ve had to convince franklin. their leadership is finally syncing up here, built on humility (francis admitting he had an addiction and choosing to do something about it, fitzjames admitting how wrong he was about francis and his use of caution and logic) and respect (i do think crozier respected fitzjames for trying to build morale to the best of his ability and i think fitzjames respected francis finally behaving like the captain he needed him to be)

during the fire there’s a small moment where james is frozen- no doubt from ptsd which he deserves- and francis sends him ahead to look for an exit, telling him to go. he fucking loves him!!!!

poor fitzjames.. like yes the ghosts of his colonial past and all that of course which i will never not fully support him being subjected to but damn. and i don’t think he shrugs francis off because it’s francis or because he’s angry with them, he is punishing himself and francis sees that and lets him do what will help ease his own guilt and pain. tt is a moment of understanding between them i believe- fitzjames showing vulnerability in front of a man he now respects while adding another failure to his own personal checklist he keeps against himself (i can only imagine he does anyway). francis’s attempt to show him care and understanding while not undercutting his usefulness is also such an inspired choice for what he knows of fitzjames. you can really see the care starting to sprout between them here. i can only imagine what the rest of the winter was like but i feel like by episode 7, their dynamic has just completely changed, their entire vibe is different. and their love couldn’t have happened until they left the ships so it came at the worst and best time.

and by ep 7 their dynamic has just so completely shifted. even the fact that they are supervising the packing for the walk together and this may be real delusional hours but sending edward ahead to make the first camp instead of one of them going is a little interesting to me. i believe he’s technically the next in line for leadership after fitzjames but like did francis and james want to spend time together? with crozier finally dried out and knowing james’s time is almost up? them finally in a comfortable and friendly place? i love their conversation during the packing scene because fitzjames is voicing a concern to francis who calmly explains his reasoning and when fitzjames continues to press his own doubts they remain civil, familiar, acknowledge one another’s thought processes etc. a scene like this could NEVER have happened in episode 1 or 2. i looooong to know what they were like together during the winter after carnival

you all know i am INSANE about the fitzier hand holding scene, no one can match my freak on this. tt makes my stomach flutter every time i see it. it is my pride and prejudice hand clenching scene. first i want to acknowledge the quote from the script- “at one point, the only thing keeping fitzjames from sliding back into oblivion is crozier’s hand, but half the importance about the act is that fitzjames reached for it.” this KILLS me more than anything else from the script. and honestly at this point in the story i am becoming convinced that james told crozier about the scurvy, they knew the whole fucking time, they knew. they are literally marching to their deaths, against all odds still going, still trying and they are falling in love. the way james gazes up at francis in awe when he sees the offered hand and doesn’t stop looking at francis when he is up on the ridge. crozier doesn’t even turn to look at james, but he does make sure to stop and wait for him and extend the hand that he knows that james needs. Based on honestly even just this alone i am convinced that crozier knew about the scurvy already. there’s no fucking way he didn’t. and then the way james grabs francis’s jacket and holds on while they stare at each other, crozier smiling- it’s so interesting to me because it very much tells of finding an excuse to touch crozier again, as if he was so in awe of the touch that crozier initiated a few minutes before that he needed it again. he was trying to find a way to touch him again in that “this has to be acceptable by victorian standards of emotional and loving expression” way. and crozier accepts it! he smiles, he meets his gaze. there’s triumph there. and don’t think i didn’t fucking notice that the hand that francis keeps is the hand that held fitzjames’s hand and that also held his face when he was dying.

in the scene with morfin, as soon as crozier notices that james is there he makes sure to maneuver over to james so he can place himself between james and the gun despite the fact that he is unarmed and james has his pistol with him. i don’t necessarily doubt that francis would do this earlier in the story but i can say that he does this here as a selfless act of love and protection

and then the jop promotion scene yay the way james looks at francis with admiration and curiosity when he hands him the promotion letter to sign and the way james smiles at him when he reads it but not just because of that- but because of the words francis uses and the way francis is looking at him, saying someone “has earned our respect (looks to james), trust” and fitzjames smiles and nods- it’s not just about agreeing with him about jopson. this is how fitzjames feels about crozier now and the fact that crozier even in this small subtle way acknowledges that he DID need to prove himself to james after his behavior during the winter. their dynamic is just so much different now! at the end when everyone is shaking jopson’s hand, fitzjames gives crozier like… the most insane loving soft look… he looks so so happy. i don’t think we’ve ever seen him look like that before.

and now we are at the cairn walk. i again have to say how during this rewatch i become convinced of the knowledge that crozier has to know that fitzjames is dying. there’s just no way he doesn’t. the conversation they have about it does not convey that james is telling him this for the first time. tt more so implies that they both know but don’t speak of it often and james is updating francis with the vital information, the stages he’s at. what made fitzier happen was them leaving the boats, james dying, crozier getting sober, them both laying it all out on the table in different moments of vulnerability- crozier with his addiction, james with his heritage. the way those scenes parallel each other is actually crazy. james is fucking dying, they are all marching to their deaths and the knowledge that they are doing so is slowly sinking in, and all james wanted before he died was for crozier to see him, all of him. even the parts he was afraid to tell anyone, even himself. and francis isn’t even granting him a mercy, he isn’t sparing his feelings. he truly and genuinely accepts james for who he is, how he came to be a part of the expedition. they have both known from the start that beginnings and heritage don’t matter, it’s the actions that people take that makes them who they are. in different ways they both knew that and i think it’s part of what aligned them eventually. and from the script- james realizes he can say anything to this man. it is possible. crozier gives him the space to do it. and just the way they’re laughing and joking and being light with each other- another thing we never would’ve seen in the earlier episodes. okay focusing on some details now- when crozier says “that’s not how i see you” james literally stumbles as if he can’t believe crozier would say that to him. in the beginning of the scene francis gives james space and privacy when he sees him getting emotional about graham and franklin’s deaths and struggling to remember the date of sir john’s death. they communicate with a single glance there, james asking for a moment and crozier giving it to him. the grief on francis’s face when james tells him his latest symptoms. when crozier initially tries to comfort and encourage james… and james can’t accept it because he hasn’t told him everything yet. he doesn’t know if he can. i don’t want to get personal but that feeling that if you only tell part of your hidden sorrow to someone and they comfort and accept you and show you kindness, that feeling you then get that no no no you don’t know the whole of it and if you did you wouldn’t be showing me this kindness, you wouldn’t love me, you wouldn’t respect me. you wouldn’t see me. i genuinely can’t imagine the relief that fitzjames felt when he told francis it all, he told him everything and all francis gave back was love. also we can finally start to really see the bruise that francis gave fitzjames in ep 5. i love when fitzjames literally and metaphorically closes the gap between them. and francis waits for him until he is by his side again. “are we brothers francis” the tears, the attempt to laugh/smile them away until he sees that crozier is with him in this moment and taking it as seriously as it deserves to be. again the joining of the hands, the one that crozier keeps. they look at each other’s mouths, into each other’s eyes, the way francis dips his head to look at fitzjames when fitzjames ducks his emotionally. it’s insanity

when they get back to camp and listen to hodgson’s story and then go to see jirv’s body, they exchange a lot of glances, specifically around the times that hodgson mentions hickey- they are of one mind on him and on how the situation actually played out. james also watches francis a lot in the scene where they go to see jirv’s body. he looks to him for leadership now and doesn’t become irritated by his anger or his candor. this really persists for the rest of the episode - in the scene where crozier is yelling at edward about supplementing the marines all james has to say is “francis” and then basically talks him down from yelling at edward more, another scene i don’t think could have ever happened between them earlier in the story but james knows how to quell francis now. and this is such an interesting parallel to ep 5 when everyone was taking their shit out on edward; this time fitzjames protects him. but anyway- james and francis are just so in sync in every scene in this episode- they back each other up, communicate through glances, emphasize each other’s words and authority. yay<3

all right you’re all going to have to bear with me on ep 9 because it makes me crazy.

we gotta start with the fucking grief and pain in both of their expressions when they’re taking care of pocock and how this scene itself foreshadows the assisted suicide later

the look of absolute love and faith from fitzjames when crozier is telling them they will keep marching south and the “more than god loves them” scene- this is francis at his most captainly- and james is echoing his hollow vanity stricken words about franklin but really really meaning them about crozier- he says them to no one but himself, there is no performance here and crozier’s words aren’t a false display of empathy and care like franklin’s were for david young and fitzjames sees this.

fitzjame and crozier are hauling in front side by side- it makes a point to mention that in the script too.

when fitzjames falls… ugh. he hauled until he couldn’t anymore, direct call back to when blanky said ross sat atop the sledges- oh and when francis and fitzjames were caring for pocock together vs ross having no sympathy for illness. when james falls he reaches for crozier without even looking at him at first and you can hear crozier saying “it’s all right, it’s all right” when james is saying he can’t stand the heat. dundy and bridgens are lifting fitzjames up too but when he stumbles, when he reveals his wound, when he stumbles again, he is only looking at crozier the whole time. and the look on crozier’s face is one i don’t think we’ve seen from him yet. i noticed too that he’s holding onto fitzjames with his left arm and rubbing his back with the other before he takes the rope off of him.

i want to say about the following scene where james is laid up in the boat that i made a joke once to my friend about when crozier reaches into the boat and how it looks like they’re holding hands- but they actually are, it’s in the script. there’s just something about crozier’s face when he talks to fitzjames in later episodes, there’s such a softening of the edges to him, his expression is less guarded and more attentive and earnest. and the call back to their first scene together with the chinese sniper story…. the fucking fondness in both of their eyes as they laugh together, which was probably james’s last time laughing. when crozier says “there’s time” but that’s the tragedy of this show- there’s never enough time. everything happens too late.

james screaming in pain and crozier running to him and barely letting bridgens finish his sentence before he tells them to camp here also in the script during the officer’s meeting right after, they can hear fitzjames screaming in his tent :( i’m honestly kinda glad they left that out.

and here we are at THE fitzier scene. i could talk for hours about this scene. francis is holding james’s hand, rubbing his shoulder. james looks so young and frail and scared here and he uses some of his last words to tell francis he wanted him to live because he knew he wouldn’t be around to tell him that anymore soon. francis shaking his head when he says it as if to say “not without you”. in the script, when bridgens leaves it says ‘he looks at crozier. he looks at fitzjames. he understands”... and later during james’s funeral when crozier says that he had a service with james, just the two of them, peglar and bridgens exchange a very interesting, knowing look. to choose those two to react that way? idk man. fitzier real. but back to the scene- god okay crozier taps james’s chest twice in question and then just barely audible fitzjames says “please”. ugh the sad smile crozier gives fitzjames before he gives him the drug… then he places his hand, the one that crozier doesn’t lose, so gently and lovingly on james’s face, and even in his current state james looks almost taken aback at the gesture. when crozier tips the drug into his mouth his expression softens. i will never ever in my life forget the way james looks at crozier in that moment, the look of gratitude, love, farewell, of pain, longing, childlike fear. (nobody is doing it like tobias). crozier ever so lightly brushing james’s lips with both of his thumbs before he begins to massage it down and carefully wiping the excess away. they never stop looking at each other. dave k said that the service that crozier mentions happened before fitzjames dies and after crozier gives him the drug.

the last thing i want to say about the james death scene is that i was never that invested in the concept of cannibalism as a metaphor for love but fitzjames asking crozier to eat his body and live really really stuck in my brain- just their entire insane journey that i’ve been sitting here thinking about for months- acquaintances to enemies to allies to friends to lovers for it all to culminate in this final scene of fitzjames begging crozier to eat from his body and begging him to give him the final kiss of death all as crozier never once looks away or lets go of him. fitzjames loved him so much he was willing for crozier to desecrate his corpse if it meant francis would live, even without him next to him but crozier loved him so much that he couldn’t do it, he couldn’t add that act to his already impossibly devoted actions.

and the action of hiding james’s body because crozier doesn’t want tuunbaq to destroy it but then it turns out that someone at the very funeral ends up leading the mutineers to tear fitzjames’s body apart themselves. just like jirv not getting to keep the final gift of the seal meat even in death, crozier couldn’t do james this one last mercy even though he tried desperately to.

and this last part is a bit of a stretch but okay-along with the shirt and the gloves of fitzjames’s that crozier is wearing after his death i think he might be wearing his little neck thing too, so sorry y’all i do not know what it’s called and i’m locked in trying to finish this and i’m not googling it lol. but we see fitzjames wear it a lot throughout the show and francis does sometimes but it’s very much a fitzjames piece so i think it might be his too. and with the funeral scene and the blanky scene, we see the mismatched gloves clearly for the first time but i’m pretty sure the first glimpse is earlier in the episode when they’re hauling before fitzjames collapses. dave k still confirmed they had switched gloves but it really seems that this happened before james died, likely when they left terror camp. i still contend that crozier and fitzjames both knew james was dying and this may have been why they did it.

and on to the last episode and closing thoughts- in the last ep i was really keeping track of the gloves- he loses them at some point and i wanted to see when and it’s between the scene where he talks to hickey and when he’s chained back up in the tent with diggle. i hope he somehow hung on to them.

i will never forget how my stomach dropped out when i saw hickey wearing fitzjames’s boots on my first watch- the fucking sorrow in crozier’s face. he doesn’t understand the meaning just yet but when goodsir is cleaning his wounds and tells him they ate gibson, you can see crozier put it together that that’s why hickey has fitzjames’s boots. his expression turns from shock and grief to rage.

hickey really clocked crozier with the shame comment and you can see how it triggers crozier. this is a great confirmation because it really pervades the story and fitzjames’s story as well. they are both driven by shame, by a need to prove themselves but go about it in completely different ways. fitzjames is all bravado, flowery empty words and boasting to cover his origins, his feelings of inadequacy. he aligns himself with the empire and with those in power and distances himself from anyone he knows will be deemed lesser than in the hierarchy in which he exists and specifically pits himself against someone like crozier in order to bolster his own social standing. crozier on the other hand is hardened to his station, he has no way to hide his nationality or his origins no matter how capable he is and how long he’s been going to sea. crozier feels the shame of things like sophia’s rejection and not having straights that they sail named after him but hides it with his bluntness and his lack of decorum when pointing out the truth of a situation. james has everything crozier wishes he did, but crozier is something that james wishes he could be- just himself, despite his societal ineptitudes and barriers. i believe that this basis and the way it melds and breaks down and comes to a way of understanding between them is why fitzier is so strong, and so real and so visceral, especially at the end. honestly there is so much more i could say but i think i’m going to leave it there and just saw that i hope crozier thinks of james from time to time in his new life. i find it hard to believe he doesn’t.

#the terror #fitzier #james fitzjames #francis crozier #this kind of turned into a bit of a character study on fitzjames as well but hopefully you all just see that as a bonus

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chaoticbardlady99 · 2 days ago

Text

Now and Tomorrow and Everyday After (Sylus x F! Reader) MDNI 18+

Synopsis: In spite of the 'tails' attempts to separate you from Sylus, it only seems to bring the two of you closer.

CW: Fingering, Oral (Female receiving), P in V, Praise Kink, after care, adult themes

Author Disclaimer- I do not own the LADS characters or lore and did use some dialogue from the recent banner's Sylus Card. I do NOT use AI and do not permit anyone else (or any other entity) to copy and advertise my work as their own. Definitely not proof read or edited because I was having “don’t post fear” and just needed to go for it.

Author Note: I made an attempt and this is my first time writing Sylus and posting it so yeah! Thanks for reading- all kind comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated! Remember, to be kind to yourself and others today! I also high key think Sylus is going to this zone to protect MC from Ever cause he makes mention of that but that's beside the point.

*this is my take on the Night of Secrecy Card. I wanted to fill in some gaps*

You pick at your nails nervously under the warm air of the AC. The city of Linkon passes you by- your eyes flickering to Sylus every so often as he drives you both to one of his safe houses.

Your nerves are on fire- not from the danger of whatever pot Sylus decided to stir up, but rather the fact that tonight is the night.

Or so you have decided.

And the night meaning boning. You want to bone this man hard.

Okay- wait, it’s probably more like make love to, but you aren’t sure where you stand in Sylus’ life or if his feelings are all that deep.

And would he even be capable of feeling that way towards you?

The thought makes that tight ring of nerves turn into a heavy ball in the pit of your stomach. Sylus really means a lot to you and you feel he shares that sentiment, but you have also been wrong before and it ended up just being a friends with benefits situation. You weren’t “girlfriend material” as you often joked with Tara.

But he is having you tag along, you think, he didn’t say he didn’t want you around. He just said he was leaving to protect you so maybe-

“What are you agonizing about over there?”

Shit.

“If you changed your mind-“

“No!” You say probably too abruptly, “I’m fine- everything is great, better than great even! Just thinking.”

Sylus chuckles and you don’t even have to look at him to know he is seeing right through. He knows you better than anyone at this point and he knows when something is bothering you.

You would honestly consider Sylus the closest thing to a best friend you could ever have. You can confide in him, depend on him, and you have a lot of fun with him.

For the most part, you think he has learned to depend on you, confide in you, and he certainly seems to enjoy himself when he is in your company. Luke and Kieran say they can tell when he’s been with you because he’s less trigger happy with the people he’s dealing with (which you’ll take as a win if you need to find one somewhere).

Not to mention- the way his hands were splayed along your thighs last night when he sat you on the kitchen counter was mind numbingly intimate. His fingers drew gentle shapes on your bare skin and left goosebumps in their wake. Sylus’ forehead was pressed against your own and his lips mere inches away, but he didn’t kiss you and you have been thinking about that all day.

What if he didn’t want to because he’s just trying to lead you on until you are of no use to him? What if all of these nice things and words and actions are all just to make sure you will still help him and resonating won’t be an issue again?

“What is it?” His voice is gentle, “maybe I can help you be less… befuddled.”

You shoot him a look that earns you a laugh, but you can see the genuine concern in his eyes. Sylus has been so invested in hiding you from the worst parts of his world and now that he’s opened up, he’s worried he’s lost you unintentionally and that all the time you have spent together is long forgotten.

You shrink slightly into your seat- avoiding his eyes the best you can and you say your question as quietly as you possibly can.

“I didn’t catch that, Kitten.”

You say it slightly louder now but still not enough and you can feel the deadpan look he is giving you.

“Howdoyouknowifsomeoneisromanticallyinterestedinyou?”

It’s all a bunch of gibberish, you had been far more confident of your assessment of his feelings when you were both walking and he was holding your hand. That would have been a really natural transition into discovering this question without any anxiety, but now you’ve had time to think about it and overthinking is the enemy of success.

And love, evidently.

“How they treat you, I suppose.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, sweetie, when someone is interested in you romantically, they may do things like hold your hand, call you pet names,” he says with the slightest bit of humor, “go to the movies, buy you gifts, play the Claw Machine until it’s dark outside and the arcade owner has to finally kick you both out. Maybe even play kitty cards in spite of losing almost every match because their opponent is a cheater.”

“I am not a-“

Your brain does a hard reset as you begin to realize what he is trying to tell you.

Sylus is telling you ‘yes- I am romantically interested in you’ and the dumbest, biggest smile ever on your face.

“Was that the answer you were looking for?”

You nod, suddenly feeling shy, “yeah- that was exactly the answer I was looking for.”

The rest of the ride is quiet with one of his hands on the steering wheel and the other on your thigh. You watch as the city quickly turns into a distant dream and Sylus’ safe house, not to your surprise, is very very large and it does very little to calm your nerves.

“I see owning multiple properties can be quite handy. A smart crow always has a few tricks up his sleeves.”

“The same can be said about having multiple slippers.”

You turn to him and stick your tongue out playfully, “ha ha, very funny.

“This safehouse doesn’t happen to warm up, does it?” your teeth begin to chatter slightly and your bare legs are littered in goose bumps, “it’s colder than hell in here.”

Sylus rolls his eyes at you, but begins to walk towards the fire place.

“It is snowing outside.”

The warm hues of the fire illuminated the room and reveals several boxes scattered about, some opened and others not. The rest of the house looks similar to his main house, but maybe slightly more scaled down. It’s beautiful and it has a great view of Linkon and the mountains behind it. It’s almost easy to forget this is a safe house and not a vacation home.

“I’ll leave after dawn. You should stay here for a while.”

You turn with a scoff, “I know your ‘territory’ is pretty safe, but as I said, a hunter doesn’t like being passive.”

“Really?”

You choose to ignore him- knowing all too well that he will suss out your plan to join him on his dangerous little adventure. There isn’t a single thing in the whole world that could convince you to stay here otherwise, but Sylus has his own ways of ensuring things go the way he wants and you don’t feel like waking up handcuffed somewhere for your own safety.

“What’s with all the gifts? I didn’t think you celebrated Christmas.”

Sylus chuckles, “I don’t, sweetie. I held an… ‘appraisal salon’ not that long ago.

“Would you like to take a look?”

It honestly is kind of like being in a candy shop, but the candy shop is the black market and instead of delicious treats, they sell guns and while guns are cool (when used appropriately), they certainly aren’t helping you get Sylus any closer to the bedroom than you were five minutes ago.

“Look at these bad boys!” You hold the unwrapped vintage gun, “this is a classic piece and very difficult to find.”

Then a stroke of genius occurs.

“Let’s have a contest,” you flash a cheeky grin, “whoever can disassemble their gun first gets to ask the other any question they want.”

“You truly are relentless.”

And of course Sylus agrees because he’s Sylus and he loves a good challenge. However, you are extremely determined to be the person asking the question and you know this specific gun quite well. You and Caleb learned how to shoot using these guns and you could disassemble it by telling it to.

The gun is pointed at Sylus’ chin right as he is about to finish putting together his own weapon. You eat up the delicious grin on his face. It makes you feel empowered- he makes you feel empowered.

“First- say the thing.”

He rolls his eyes and gives you a soft smile, “I like your confidence and your determination very much. Now go ahead, ask your question.”

Uh oh- you hadn’t actually thought that far ahead.

“I’m sleepy.”

WHAT ARE YOU EVEN SAYING RIGHT NOW?

Sylus looks a bit perplexed and you cannot blame him- you need to fix this NOW!

“Can you… tuck me in?”

“I thought a certain relentless hunter would ask about my destination.”

You shrug, “I care more about the present than an answer I won’t get. So will you do it or not?”

Sylus is suddenly swinging you up into his arms and you yelp in surprise, but it doesn’t seem to get the usual laughing reaction you thought it would. Instead, there is a heat in his eyes that you have seen before but could never place what he was feeling until you began to feel it too.

“Of course, Kitten,” his nose brushes against yours, “this request is way more powerful than that little gun.”

Every footstep closer to the bedroom is another step towards you having to be brave and you find yourself studying Sylus’ features as the dim light of the hall lamps barely kisses his features. He is so beautiful- you could probably study him forever and find more things you adore about him.

He catches you looking and he returns your smile of adoration- flinging your shoes to the side and going to set you on the couch to quite literally tuck you in.

And ACTION!

“I’m not ready to lie down just yet.”

Sylus cocks an eyebrow, “if you don’t want to lie down, I can keep holding you until I leave.”

“What if I don’t want you to leave?”

Your question hangs in the air and it’s hidden meaning seems obvious to you, but then Sylus puts you down on the ground and you realize he may have missed the actual meaning of your words. Is it that unbelievable that you would want to have sex or are you doing a magnificently poor job of conveying that point?

“We better make the most of our time until dawn then.”

In the spur of the moment and desire coursing through your veins, you find the courage to push him down onto the couch behind him. With a gracefulness you have never been able to execute before, you straddle him and the way his breath hitches makes something inside you break.

Sylus’ face is an adorable and sexy pink and his breathing becomes more unsteady in your clumsy hands.

When your lips finally touch his, it feels as if you have been asleep your entire life until this very moment.

Your fingers find purchase in his hair and Sylus pulls you into him- his fingers surely leaving bruises along the back of your thigh. The kiss is filled with passion and desperation- his skin feels like it’s on fire under your touch and every moan against your lips sends shockwaves through you.

“You really don’t want me to leave.”

To emphasize his point- you tease his lower lip between your teeth that makes him feel absolutely feral.

“S-Sylus,” you pant between kisses, “over there.”

You anticipated him to be a bit rougher, maybe throwing you down on the bed or something, but he lays you down gently like you are a precious, fragile gift. His hands are firm and confident as he cradles you, needing to have you as close as physically possible.

Your clumsy hands make quick work of the buttons on his shirt and loosening his tie. Your hands glide across his chest and your nails gently graze your territory- one of your nails taking the time drag across his nipple. Sylus bites your lower lip in response, his hips grinding into you, and the growl that claws it’s way up his throat excites you. Your heart feels as if it’s beating out of your chest by the time he pulls away and (not so gently) takes of your shirt.

The cool air is a stark contrast to the heat you feel on the inside- Sylus roams your bare chest and core with his eyes, his fingers hooking into your pants and pulling them down. You help by lifting your hips at an embarrassingly fast pace.

“Looks like we are on the same page with not wanting to waste any time.”

He crushes his lips against yours again, leaving bruising kisses on every inch of skin he comes in contact with. Sylus returns the favor from earlier, his practiced mouth circling your nipple with care. His tongue flicks and laps at the sensitive skin and his teeth are quick to follow, leaving love marks and spit littering your skin before making his way to the the other.

You are mesmerized as you watch him- your core wound tight and dripping with need at the sight of him worshipping your body. Leaning back, you close your eyes and enjoy every single sensation.

You have soaked the bed underneath you by the time he makes his way between your legs- you are so caught up in his silent worship that you can barely focus on the task at hand.

Strong, corded arms pull you to the edge of the bed and you jolt from your bliss filled daze- and God are you grateful you have. Sylus looks beautiful between your legs with his cocky smirk and pink cheeks- his warm breath lingers on the sensitive skin between your thighs.

With your legs slung over his shoulders- Sylus licks a stripe along your folds and ends at your clit, circling the sensitive nub and making lewd noises that you have only ever heard in porn. No one has truly, properly gone down on you and when they have, it always seemed like a chore.

“Sy-Sylus, you don’t have to if you don't wan-”

You are cut off when he sucks on your clit, his tongue taking the time to tease the nerves and leave you a whimpering mess.

“I’m not doing anything I haven’t thought about doing for a very long time now,” he kisses along the inside of your thighs, “now stay focused, kitten.

“Don’t look.”

One of your hands tangles in his hair and the other twists into the sheets. Sylus feasts and laps up your pleasure, his face covered in your essence and his nose breathes in your heady scent with happy, deep hums. His large hands roam your body, keeping your hips down and your legs clenched around him. They eventually return to your sore nipples and those practice, cold hands, become warm and attentive. He gropes and squeezes your breasts in time with his tongue as it darts in and out of your heat, his nose working to keep your bundle of nerves stimulated.

“Sy-” you clench your legs around his head tightly, a string of curse words leaving your mouth, “f-fuck- I’m, I’m-”

Sylus’ fingers dip between your folds and his tongue returns to your clit. His other hand holds down your hips as his fingers drive you to your first orgasm of the night. Your moans are shrill and untamed- embarrassing almost- but the more you sing for him, the harder Sylus works to get more and more of those pretty noises out of your mouth.

When he finally comes up for air, your pleasure is dripping from around his mouth and down his chin. Crimson eyes make eye contact with you and he brings his soaked fingers to his lips- shamelessly savoring the taste of you on his skin.

You can barely contain yourself when he begins to crawl along you- your greedy hands using his hands to pull him to you faster. Sylus gazes at you adoringly and you are overwhelmed with your own affections for him. You went from hating him to loving him, desiring him, and at least for tonight, he is all yours.

“What are you thinking about?”

Mindlessly, your hand cups his cheek and your thumb traces the spot where a scar should be from your first encounter.

“Am I being too greedy… if I ask you to keep your eyes only on me?”

Sylus almost looks relieved by your words, grabbing your arm and leaving a plethora of kisses as if to reward you for being open with him.

“You always had that right,” his warm breath and deep tone sends goosebumps of excitement up your spine, “which means… you can be even greedier. Do you want it, kitten?”

Your breath catches when you realize what he is insinuating and you blink a few times before nodding. He smiles and leans down, but you stop him momentarily. Your mind feels like it is going a thousand miles a minute as you run through every negative outcome. What if you are really bad in bed? What if he decides he doesn’t want to be with you or bother with you anymore after you share such an intimate moment with each other?

“Sylus-”

“You haven’t changed your mind, have you…? You just said “yes?” his voice is desperate, “I’m hoping yes is still your answer because… I just can’t hold back anymore.”

A wave of want and need flows through you, but before you can continue, you want to make sure this isn’t the beginning of the end.

“If we do this,” you whisper, “if we have this intimate moment together- you can’t just disappear on me. I want you, Sylus. Now and tomorrow and everyday after.”

The Onychinus leader blinks a few times before the largest smile paints his face.

“Oh, y/n,” he sighs against your lips, “you have no idea how long I have wanted to hear you say those words.”

Sylus kisses you deeply, his lips caress yours and your hands explore each other- your nails make designs in his back as you try to keep yourself as close to him as you possibly can. Sylus’ clothed crotch is stained in the mess between your legs while he rocks his hips into you. His hand is tangled in your hair and the other is pressing you flush to his sweat soaked chest. The kiss only continues to deepen in passion and need- you barely get him to let you take a moment to breathe.

“He-hey- no biting here,” you tease, pulling him back by his hair after he nips the skin on your neck a bit too roughly.

His pupils are blown wide with lust and pent up frustration, “First you want it rough, then you want it soft. You’re a tough one to please tonight, y/n.”

You are lost in the depths of his eyes and the pooling of emotions behind them. You forget to breathe until he breaks eye contact to leave soothing kisses over the bite mark.

“What do you really want?” he uncharacteristically pleads, “won’t you tell me like you just did?”

While his voice may be innocent, you are far from believing this act. With a smirk, you use your strength to roll him on his back and your hands intertwine with his- keeping them pinned to the bed. The look of surprise on his face is refreshing, to say the least.

You lean down and kiss him slowly, nipping at his lower lip and eating up the breathy chuckle he releases.

“I told you a hunter doesn’t like being passive.”

“So you want control?”

You nod victoriously, certain you are going to be the one in control tonight. Sylus returns your confident smile with one of mischief before he somehow pins you down in the spot he was before.

Sylus chuckles deeply, “Unfortunately, I can’t give it to you. Not yet, at least.”

Before you can inquire about what he means, you feel the pressure of two of his fingers sliding inside your wet cunt. An open mouthed, guttural moan leaves your lips and Sylus just watches- his other hand holding your chin so he can make eye contact. He wants to see your pleasure and know he is the only one you are thinking of- the only one you are seeing.

Sylus wants you to know- no, understand- that you are his, not anyone else’s.

“Sy-sylus,” you plead, “pl-please I ne-”

“Don’t run.”

Your back arches upwards and you try to pull away from his hand when you feel a warm wave gush and soak the sheets beneath you. Sylus doesn’t relent and quickly coaxes another orgasm from your shaking body.

“Yo-you’re… so annoying…”

“I won’t deny it,” he crawls off of you with a grin, “I guess you can say I lied. Tonight, you’re not the only one feeling greedy…”

Sylus unzips his pants and pulls down his brief- his cock springs free and slaps against his lower ab muscles. Your mouth is watering in anticipation at his size- of course he’s perfect. He’s Sylus.

He climbs back on the bed and pulls you closer to him- the head of his cock presses against your folds and you feel yourself clench around nothing.

“I misspoke.”

“What…?”

Is he changing his mind?

“Greed can never be satisfied,” he places your hand on his chest, your hearts beating in sync, “but you can temporarily soothe it.

“Say it again, y/n, do you want it?”

Time feels like it stops completely when his eyes meet yours. Your devotion and adoration for each other is magnetic- an unspoken magic between both of you. Your fingers lace themselves in his hair, pulling him to you and you take your time to kiss him slowly, reassuringly.

“This is my answer.”

Whatever lust and want that had been held back erupts within an instant. Sylus crushes your lips with his and he slowly glides himself inside of you- your legs tighten around his torso and your whine of pleasure interrupts the heated kiss.

“F-fuck, y/n.”

Sylus’ pace is both gentle and punishing- you can feel him trying to be gentle, but the more he holds himself back, the more you want him to let go.

“Let go, Sy,” you whisper, “I’m yours.”

His hips set a punishing pace- your collective sighs and moans are the melody to the filthy sound of sex soaked skin and your hips meeting. His tip grazes the opening of your cervix and his abs stimulate your aching clit. The spongy sensitive spot inside of you is relentlessly stimulated with each movement.

“Such a good girl,” he growls into your ear, “fuck you’re so tight.”

Your only response to his praise is pathetic whimpers and cries. It doesn’t stop him- if anything, he only begins to praise you more. Sylus is wrapped up in the moment and wants nothing more than to stay in this moment with you forever. You are safe and in his arms- he is finally reunited with you in body, mind, and soul and this spurs him on more, his cock driving into you harder and harder and his hands digging into the flesh of your ass and hips to keep you in place.

You cling to each other, lips and teeth clashing against each other sloppily as you both lose your composure to the others’ wanting. Your velvet walls clench around him desperately and your fingers try to find purchase on his back, in his hair, anywhere as your orgasm overtakes you.

With a few more rough thrusts, Sylus stutters inside of you and thick ropes of cum coats the inside of your walls and fills you to the brim. He lays on top of you with very little of his weight, his face in the crook of your neck. Sylus leaves soft kisses along your neck and sings words of praise that you can barely register.

At some point, he gets up and you hear the bathtub turn on and the soft padding of feet. Sylus’s strong arms cradle you- taking you to the now filled bathtub that is more than big enough for two.

You straddle his lap so that you can face him. Sylus kisses you slowly while he cleans you- pouring water on your hair, scrubbing your scalp, cleaning the sweat along your shoulders and on the back of your neck. You return the favor, taking your time to make sure he can feel all the love you have for him and how much you care for him.

He helps you lotion and brush your teeth- at no point do your feet ever actually touch the ground again. Sylus sets you on the couch in one of his shirts and begins to change the sheets.

“Do you want some help?” you offer, your legs sore, but not wanting to be too much of a pillow princess.

Sylus rolls his eyes at you, “I’m capable of tackling this mission on my own, sweetie, but I will let you know if another pressing issue arises.”

You scoff playfully and wait for him to finish making the bed. Sylus picks you up and places you on the bed, you snuggle up next to him as soon as he lies down and, much like when you were in the grasslands, you lay your head on his bicep and he pulls you closer to him. You have never felt quite so warm or safe in your entire life and your resolve only hardens further.

You cannot allow Sylus to go by himself into the jaws of danger. You refuse to.

You turn and kiss his bicep, settling deeper into his arms.

“Good night, my clever Crow,” you say with a yawn, “remember not to steal the blanket.”

He snorts, “I will try my best, kitten. Now get some rest- I’ll keep you safe.”

You nod- knowing in your heart that you will always be safe with Sylus around- and let sleep take you. You have a long flight and some ass whooping on the agenda tomorrow, after all.

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the-mpreg-guy · 5 hours ago

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#literally this is the thing!!#Dean has not explicitly said the words ''please stop leaving''#but he has tried very hard through his actions to express that#AND!!!! CRUCIALLY!!! BECAUSE DEAN IS ACTUALLY A PRETTY GOOD VERBAL COMMUNICATOR!!#he has ALSO!!! verbally expressed his desire for Cas to stick around using OTHER words!!!#not as explicit as ''please stop leaving and stay with me'' but absolutely conveying the same sentiment#what the hell do you think ''we're stronger together'' and the whole ''cursed or not'' speech were about????#like Cas needs it to be more clear than that to Get It bc he does not understand how his constant absence HURTS#but Dean does not want to BE more explicit than he already is#bc he feels like he's been VERY direct on the subject already#he literally told Cas he needs him. TWICE. and has prayed that he needs him there with them at least once that I can recall#Dean thinks he's been EXTREMELY explicitly clear already!!!#and that Cas is constantly leaving bc despite hearing Dean's tacit request to stay Cas is REFUSING that request and doesn't WANT to stay#he keeps asking and getting rebuffed WHY would he be louder and needier about it when he thinks all it's going to get him#is the emotional equivalent of a slap to the face?#in no universe is Dean going to ask for something louder when from his POV he's already been begging for it and being refused like????#this is one of those cases where neither of them is actually doing anything wrong#Dean is communicating perfectly fine it's just Cas is autistic and missing some subtext#Cas isn't wrong for prioritizing his missions when he doesn't understand that Dean wants him there as much as he wants to be there#they're just talking past each other and a deeper conversation or two would fix this problem for them#they just don't realize that conversation is necessary#bc Dean thinks he's been heard and understood and Cas is politely declining his request for more time together#and Cas is unaware that that's something Dean has been asking for at varying volume levels for years#and instead bc of his trauma feels compelled to ''earn'' his place in the family with feats of strength so to speak#no one is at fault for their emotional needs not being met it's just a miscommunication#unfortunately the fandom focuses super hard on only one part of that equation and thus the takes on it are so often Bad™#and ignore Cas's motivations and role as a complex actor with his own trauma and emotional issues and blind spots#anyway they're losers I adore them both <3#spn tags via @ilarual

on a realer note i do think people forget that a huge part of the destiel equation is that cas won’t stay. like yeah we focus a lot on the fact that dean won’t ask him to, but cas never sticking around is a huge factor there

#EVERYONE STOP BEING SEXY IN THE TAGS RIGHT NOW #okay but really its this #they have wildly different communication styles #dean thinks saying 'i need you' translates to 'stay with me'#and cas thinks 'i need you' translates to 'i need what you can do for me and also pls stop trying to kill me in this moment'#they really did the miscommunication trope for eleven seasons straight and then cas died #supernatural

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caldella · 21 hours ago

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I think one of my favorite things about Blitzø is how feral cat-coded he is.

He was dumped on his own at too young an age without resources. He's an outcast with a rough past, used to relying on his own wit and tenacity to survive. He's energetic and determined. He bends/breaks rules as he deems necessary. His circus past gives him good balance/coordination (except for his goofy faceplants).

His tail swishes. He bites. He purrs.

Like a feral cat, he perceives most of the world as ready to hurt him and lashes out, often afraid of introspection. And he refuses to acknowledge when he's dangerously out of his level in a conflict.

It also takes a lot for him to realize when someone is, in fact, genuine. The world wants to hurt people, and he's constantly waiting for it to try again.

But when he does understand someone, or when he sees enough of himself in them, he doesn't need the claws anymore. He is all about nuzzles and cuddles and purrs and an absurd level of undying faith and protectiveness. Like a cat, his loyalty and affection are things he has to decide on himself. But once they're there, they're as upfront and outright as his self-defenses.

IDK I don't have anywhere special to go with this. As someone who's had a lot of experience with feral/found stray cats, I really came to appreciate his character so much the further I got into the show. Perhaps this is just a response to those people who feel his supportive nature with Stolas at the end of S2 'came out of nowhere.' Maybe they haven't had the same experience I have? Blitzø is that beaten up street cat who hisses and claws when you try to help or be kind to him, even though he badly needs help and kindness. But underneath all that is the Blitzø that wants to follow you home, swat at the other cats to protect you, and be your biggest cheerleader. Just, very stray cat coded. And I love it.

EDIT: OH you know who tends to brefriend the horses at barns, to the extent to sleeping on their backs sometimes?

Yeah, cats.

#helluva boss #helluvaverse #helluva boss blitzø #helluva boss blitzo #helluva boss blitz #blitzo #blitzø #helluva blitzo #helluva blitz #character analysis #he's just like a cat your honor #purring blitzo is best blitzo

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jellofish-plant · 2 days ago

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Jason Todd (Red Hood) x Reader Headcanons

Pairing: Jason Todd (Red Hood) x Reader

Master List

Warnings:

Mentions of Jason’s past trauma (his death and resurrection are lightly referenced).

Gotham’s usual grit and danger.

Light angst mixed with fluff.

Summary: A collection of headcanons exploring what it’s like to be in a relationship with Jason Todd. From quiet moments of vulnerability to his fierce protectiveness, these glimpses show the many layers of the man behind the Red Hood.

Author’s Note: Hi, lovely readers! 🖤 Thank you for visiting my blog and checking out this new piece. I love diving into Jason’s character and imagining how he’d express love and loyalty in a relationship, and I hope you enjoy reading these headcanons as much as I enjoyed writing them!

Feel free to like, reblog, or leave a comment—I’d love to hear your thoughts.

1. Protective but Respectful

Jason has an almost instinctive need to protect you, especially given his traumatic past. However, he’s not overbearing. He respects your independence and knows you can handle yourself.

That said, if he thinks you’re in danger, he won’t hesitate to show up unannounced, armed to the teeth, just in case.

2. Affectionate in His Own Way

Jason isn’t the most openly affectionate person in public, but he shows his love through small, meaningful gestures: leaving notes in your favorite book, making sure your favorite snacks are stocked, or holding your hand when no one’s watching.

In private, though? He’s a cuddler. He loves having you close, whether it’s holding you while you’re watching a movie or burying his face in your neck after a long night.

3. Intellectual Connection

Jason is incredibly well-read thanks to his love of literature from his time with Bruce. He loves discussing books with you, sharing his favorites, and hearing your thoughts on them.

He secretly adores it when you recommend a book to him, especially if it’s something outside his usual genres.

4. Humor and Wit

Jason has a sharp wit and loves to make you laugh, even if his humor is a little dark sometimes. He’s quick with sarcastic remarks and loves when you can match his banter.

If you’re ever feeling down, he’ll try to lighten the mood with ridiculous antics—like showing up in his Red Hood gear but with a goofy apron over it, claiming he’s your personal “hero-chef.”

5. Shared Quiet Moments

Some of Jason’s favorite moments are the quiet ones, where you’re both just existing in each other’s company. Whether you’re reading on the couch while he cleans his weapons or you’re cooking together, those moments ground him.

He often falls asleep on your shoulder or with his head in your lap during these quiet times. It’s one of the few ways he truly relaxes.

6. Fiercely Loyal

Jason’s loyalty to you is unwavering. Once he’s let you into his heart, you’re family, and he’ll do anything to protect and support you.

He also expects the same loyalty in return. Trust is crucial to him, and if you’re honest and open with him, he’ll cherish you all the more.

7. Struggles with Vulnerability

Because of his past, Jason struggles to open up about his emotions. He doesn’t want to burden you with his trauma or his fears, but over time, he learns to trust you enough to share those parts of himself.

When he does open up, he appreciates how patient and understanding you are. Your support means everything to him.

8. Playful Teasing

Jason loves to tease you, especially if it makes you laugh. He’ll playfully steal your snacks, mimic your quirks, or challenge you to silly bets (which he’ll let you win most of the time).

If you manage to catch him off guard or tease him back, he’s secretly impressed and enjoys the back-and-forth.

9. Intense Protectiveness in Battle

If you ever find yourself in danger while he’s in his Red Hood persona, Jason is relentless. He’ll fight with everything he has to keep you safe.

However, if you’re capable of holding your own in a fight, he’s the first to cheer you on (while subtly watching your back). He’s proud of your strength and resilience.

10. Love Through Actions

Jason isn’t great with words when it comes to expressing his feelings, but he shows his love through his actions. Whether it’s fixing something around the house, bringing you your favorite coffee, or checking in with you after a long day, he always finds ways to make you feel cared for.

He has a habit of leaving small gifts for you—like a flower he found on patrol or a rare book he thought you’d love.

11. Dealing with His Darkness

Jason has dark moments where his anger and guilt resurface, but you’re his anchor. Just your presence helps calm him, reminding him that he’s not alone.

He deeply values how you don’t try to “fix” him but instead accept him for who he is, scars and all.

12. Adventurous Dates

Jason isn’t one for traditional dates. Instead, he takes you on thrilling adventures—riding through Gotham on his motorcycle, exploring abandoned buildings, or stargazing on rooftops.

Despite his love for adventure, he’s also happy to spend a quiet night in with takeout and a movie, especially if it means being close to you.

13. The Family Factor

Jason is hesitant to introduce you to the Batfamily at first, but once he does, he’s fiercely proud to have you by his side.

You quickly become the peacekeeper between Jason and his siblings, often mediating playful (or not-so-playful) arguments between him and Dick or Tim.

Alfred adores you, and Bruce is quietly relieved to see Jason happy again, even if he won’t admit it out loud.

#Jason Todd x Reader #Red Hood x Reader #Jason Todd Headcanons #Batfamily #Gotham City #Fluff with a Dash of Angst

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earthlybeam · 3 days ago

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I saw a post about Thranduil disability due to his scar (can’t find it 😭) makes me wonder how he’ll approach it with a partner? Scars are such a deep delicate piece of one self and he use some kind of magic to hide it I suppose he is self conscious about it? It’s too sad! And apparently elves only love once that also mean boy is stuck in the past forever 😭

In the context below, I am sharing a headcanon about Scar (my personal opinion). Than Answer your question in How might he approach his partner regarding his scar?. Lastly how his partner discovered his scar for first time.

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Thranduil Version below. (Your his partner)

🍷𝓣𝓱𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓾𝓲𝓵

Headcanons on Thranduil’s Scar (A Personal headcanon of mine)

𐂂 Constant Soreness and Sensitivity The scarred side of Thranduil’s face remains perpetually sore and sensitive to the touch. His skin feels like it’s still healing, even after centuries. The scar tissue is more prone to reacting to changes in weather or pressure. The sensation can range from dull aching to sharp discomfort, especially in moments of physical stress or emotional strain. Often, he will gently press his left hand against his cheek or forehead, as if trying to soothe the constant irritation. This act becomes subconscious, a private coping mechanism he does when he thinks no one is watching.

𐂂 Cool Damp Cloth to Ease the Burn Sometimes, the scar feels like it’s burning up, especially on hot days or when he’s been using his magic extensively. Thranduil will often apply a cool damp cloth to his left cheek or forehead to alleviate the sensation of heat. The cloth is more than just for comfort; it helps momentarily distract him from the constant reminder of the pain he’s learned to live with. This is one of his more private moments of self-care, something that might happen behind closed doors when he’s alone or when he feels the need to quiet the discomfort.

𐂂 Blindness in the Left Eye Thranduil’s left eye is permanently blinded, a painful reminder of the battle with the Fire Drakes. He keeps the blindness hidden through elven glamour magic, creating the illusion of a normal appearance, but the loss of vision is always present in his awareness. He consciously angles his head to ensure that he’s constantly aware of his surroundings, making sure that people stand on his right side where he can see them with his only functional eye. This is not an overt action but more of a natural positioning habit he’s developed over centuries. Thranduil has grown hyper-aware of sounds and other stimuli from his left side, his sense of hearing and intuition becoming stronger to compensate for his blind spot. He trusts his senses more than most might expect.

𐂂 Magical Glamour is Exhausting Maintaining the glamour magic that hides the scar and his blindness is tiring. The magic is subtle but constant, and after long periods of exertion or emotional turmoil, Thranduil will feel the strain. Occasionally, the glamour flickers or weakens, especially when his emotions are stirred or when he’s exhausted. Thranduil tends to avoid using his magic excessively in public settings, fearing that someone might notice the flicker in his disguise. This causes him to retreat even more into solitude, especially when he feels vulnerable.

𐂂 Increased Sensitivity to Pain Thranduil experiences sudden, sharp bursts of pain from his scar, particularly during moments of heightened emotional intensity. When he’s angry or distressed, the scar seems to flare up, sending sharp jolts of pain through his face. These episodes can catch him off guard, making him appear more agitated or distant than he actually is. He hides this pain behind a mask of regal composure, but in private moments, his discomfort becomes almost unbearable, especially if someone brings up the past or the cause of the injury.

𐂂 Emotional Distance and Wariness Thranduil’s scar creates emotional distance between him and others. His insecurities about the disfigurement make him wary of anyone getting too close. He is protective of his face and will recoil if someone tries to touch it, even if it’s a gesture of affection.

𐂂 The vulnerability of the scar makes him very selective about who is allowed near him physically. Only those he trusts deeply—like Legolas or perhaps his closest advisors—are allowed to approach his left side without triggering his wariness.

𐂂 Physical and Psychological Scar The physical scar is not just a mark of the fire but also a psychological wound. It represents loss—of strength, invulnerability, and the youth he once had. Even after centuries, Thranduil has not fully come to terms with the damage it has done to him. There are moments where the scar represents shame or failure in his eyes. In these rare moments of self-reflection, he might wonder what he could have done differently to avoid the injury. These thoughts are fleeting but haunting.

𐂂 Reluctance to Reveal the Scar Thranduil hides his scar even from his own kin, especially in times when he feels emotionally exposed or when others might question his vulnerabilities. He has mastered the art of maintaining an air of perfection, masking the reality of his injury behind layers of magic and pride. Even in moments of closeness with Legolas, he might be hesitant to fully reveal his scar, especially when Legolas was a child. Over time, Legolas would have likely seen glimpses of the truth, but Thranduil would remain reticent about discussing it unless absolutely necessary.

𐂂 Feeling of Weakness and Humiliation Thranduil’s scar serves as a constant reminder of his mortality. It is one thing for him to be immortal and unyielding in battle, but the scar exposes a weakness, something he cannot erase or change. It stands as proof that even the mightiest elves can fall prey to danger, and this thought haunts him on particularly dark days. The idea of being vulnerable or less-than-perfect can cause him immense humiliation, especially in front of others. He might lash out in anger or act coldly to keep anyone from probing too deeply into his scars, both physical and emotional.

𐂂 Compensatory Behavior in Social Situations In public settings, Thranduil’s movements become more deliberate. He turns his face slightly away from the left side, and if he needs to engage someone in conversation, he’ll usually position them to his right. If forced to interact with someone on his left side, he might unconsciously raise his left hand or arm to shield the scar, a gesture so ingrained in his behavior that he doesn’t realize he’s doing it. This gives an impression of confidence and strength, even though it’s driven by insecurity.

𐂂 A Potent and Healing Drink for thranduil Dorwinion wine is renowned for its strength, so much so that it can intoxicate even Elves—beings known for their exceptional resistance to alcohol. But after the dragon fire incident, Thranduil became accustomed to its effects, using it as a form of solace and numbing comfort. The potent wine became an essential part of his recovery, allowing him to dull the searing pain from the burns and the emotional scars left by the battle with the Fire Drakes. Thranduil drank it frequently during the recovery period, and over time, his tolerance to the wine grew so that it no longer affected him in the usual way. His resistance to the wine’s effects became almost legendary among his people, and he was often seen sipping from his glass without even a hint of inebriation, despite the powerful nature of the drink.

𐂂 Thranduil is often seen with a glass of Dorwinion wine at his side, a habit that traces back to his recovery from the devastating dragon fire scar inflicted by the Fire Drakes. It’s not merely a symbol of indulgence or luxury in the courts of Mirkwood—it is an integral part of Thranduil’s way of managing the constant physical pain from his scar and the emotional weight it carries. The deep burn that left his left side forever scarred remains a source of both soreness and intense sensitivity, flaring up in waves of discomfort. In moments of heightened pain, or when the scar acts up unexpectedly, Dorwinion wine provides him with a way to dull the sensation, allowing him a temporary respite. Over the centuries, he has become so accustomed to the wine’s effects that it no longer intoxicates him in the typical sense, but its warmth and rich flavor soothe him, offering him a momentary escape. The wine became his companion during the long days of recovery after the battle with the Fire Drakes, when it helped to numb both his physical injuries and the deeper wounds to his spirit. Now, it serves as both a comfort and a tool for self-regulation, helping him maintain his stoic façade in public while easing the persistent flare-ups of pain he still faces. Whether in private moments of reflection or in the company of trusted companions, the glass of Dorwinion wine never leaves his side. It is his silent ally in the ongoing battle with his scars, a ritual he clings to—one that has endured through the centuries—and a reminder of how far he has come from the ravages of dragon fire.

𐂂 Trust and Acceptance of Those Who See the Scar There are very few people in Middle-earth who Thranduil would allow to see the truth behind the glamour magic. He has shared his scar with Lady Galadriel, Lord Celeborn and Lord Elrond, trusting them not only with its physical existence but also with the pain and trauma tied to it. His vulnerability is a rare sight, and those who have seen the scar have gained a special place in his heart. Their respect for his journey and his pain likely helps Thranduil to feel less ashamed of his injury, though he never fully abandons his need for secrecy and composure.

𐂂 Elrond’s Continued Care for Thranduil’s Scar: Lord Elrond was one of the few who saw the full extent of Thranduil’s scars immediately after the battle with the Fire Drakes. As a healer, Elrond provided essential aid, using his knowledge to ease the Elven King’s pain and help with his recovery. Thranduil, despite his pride and reluctance to show weakness, trusted Elrond enough to seek his help in those dark days. Even now, centuries later, Elrond continues to send healing herbs and potions to Mirkwood to help manage the pain of Thranduil’s scar. These remedies are carefully crafted to soothe the constant discomfort Thranduil faces, especially during flare-ups. Though Thranduil often maintains a cold, aloof demeanor and refuses to openly acknowledge the depth of his suffering, Elrond understands that it’s a façade. He knows the king’s pride keeps him from seeking help openly, but he has seen the vulnerability behind that mask. Elrond’s gifts of healing aren’t just physical remedies—they are reminders of the bond they share. Thranduil, while distant, accepts them with quiet gratitude, though he rarely lets anyone see the true extent of his reliance on them. The Elven King keeps the potions and herbs close, knowing they bring relief when the pain becomes unbearable. This subtle, ongoing care from Elrond is a silent but powerful expression of trust and friendship, one that Thranduil allows only a very few to see.

𐂂 Galadriel’s Role in Thranduil’s Healing and Glamour Magic In the aftermath of the Fire Drakes’ attack, Lady Galadriel was instrumental in helping Thranduil conceal the scar’s true extent. Recognizing the emotional and physical toll the injury had on him, she used her deep wisdom and mastery of magic to teach Thranduil how to create a glamour spell that would hide the scar from the eyes of others. Galadriel helped him understand the subtlety and precision required to maintain such an illusion, knowing that it would provide him with the appearance of normalcy that he desperately craved. Galadriel’s guidance went beyond just the magical aspects of the glamour. She understood the emotional weight of Thranduil’s scar, and in her way, helped him process the trauma it caused. Her calm, patient nature gave him a sense of security, though Thranduil never fully allowed himself to express the extent of his vulnerability. Despite his reluctance to show weakness, he trusted Galadriel with this intimate aspect of his life, knowing that she would respect his need for privacy. As Thranduil became more adept at controlling the glamour, he felt a deep sense of gratitude toward Galadriel, though he would never openly express it. Her quiet support, both magical and emotional, allowed him to maintain his regal composure while still carrying the burden of his scar. In this rare exchange, Thranduil’s trust in Galadriel grew, cementing her place as one of the few who truly understood the full depth of his pain and the lengths he went to conceal it.

𐂂 Celeborn’s Role in Thranduil’s Healing Journey Though not directly involved in the magical healing like Galadriel, Celeborn played a crucial role in Thranduil’s recovery. His quiet wisdom and steady presence offered Thranduil the emotional balance he needed after the attack. Celeborn provided counsel on perseverance through suffering, understanding the weight of immortality and the scars time can leave. Celeborn’s gentle approach allowed Thranduil to reflect on his trauma without feeling judged. While Celeborn wasn’t overt in his support, his steady, reliable nature helped Thranduil navigate his emotional pain, earning a quiet but deep respect from the elven king over time. He was the grounding force that helped Thranduil find dignity in his suffering and maintain composure during the darkest times.

Would thranduil approach his partner (you) about his scar?

No, Thranduil would never approach his partner personally about the scar. He would keep it hidden, using glamour magic or subtle enchantments to conceal it, never intending to reveal it unless absolutely necessary. His self-consciousness about the scar runs deep, and he would never willingly share such a vulnerable part of himself. If the scar were discovered, it would likely happen accidentally, in a moment where his guard is lowered or his defenses slip. But until that point, Thranduil would ensure it remained a secret, too afraid of how it might change his partner’s perception of him. The dragon fire scar would undoubtedly be a profound source of insecurity for Thranduil, particularly given his deep attachment to his appearance, pride, and the image of immortality and strength he works tirelessly to project. Thranduil is not one to easily reveal his vulnerabilities. He cloaks much of his true self behind an imperious façade, maintaining an aura of stoic authority. To him, the scar represents a painful reminder of past failure—a wound that tarnishes the regal stature he strives to uphold, one that conflicts with the idealized, flawless image elves typically seek to preserve.

𐂂 Thranduil’s Approach in a Romantic Relationship In a romantic relationship, Thranduil would be profoundly guarded, reluctant to share either his physical or emotional scars. His pride and past experiences would make him exceedingly hesitant to open up about his insecurities, particularly regarding the scar from the dragon fire. The thought of his partner seeing the scar—of witnessing a flaw in his otherwise immaculate exterior—would terrify him. He would fear that exposing this vulnerability could unravel the carefully constructed perfection he works so hard to maintain, making him feel exposed and weak.

𐂂 First Approach: Keeping the Scar Hidden From the outset of a relationship, Thranduil would do everything in his power to keep his scar concealed. He would not mention it and would go to great lengths to hide it, using glamour magic or subtle enchantments to cover its visibility. His desire to maintain control over how others perceive him would be paramount. He would avoid allowing his partner to get too close on his left side, positioning himself deliberately so that only his right side was visible. This meticulous avoidance of physical proximity would be an instinctive action to protect himself from emotional exposure. To Thranduil, this secrecy would not be an act of dishonesty, but rather a way of maintaining his image of perfection. The scar is something he feels he must keep hidden, not only for the sake of his pride but to keep his partner from seeing what he perceives as a flaw that could compromise their view of him.

𐂂 When His Partner Discovers the Scar: The moment his partner accidentally discovers the scar would likely occur during an intimate, vulnerable moment. Perhaps they are close, and Thranduil, unable to manage his pain or discomfort, inadvertently lets his guard down. Or maybe in a rare instance, he allows himself to relax just enough for his partner to see the mark—something he’s spent so long hiding. If his partner discovers the scar, Thranduil would likely be immediately shaken, both emotionally and physically. His instincts would compel him to retreat emotionally, fearing that the sight of the scar will prompt judgment or pity. His mind would race with insecurity, and he would likely feel exposed in a way he is unprepared for. To protect himself, he might respond with coldness or a sharp, dismissive remark, masking his vulnerability behind a defensive wall. His emotional withdrawal would be a reflex—a way to regain control over a situation that has threatened to reveal more of him than he is willing to share. In that moment, Thranduil’s self-consciousness would overshadow everything else. His greatest fear—that his partner might see him as flawed or weakened—would take over, leading him to react with an almost instinctive desire to push them away or lash out. How he handles the discovery would depend on the partner’s response, but his initial reaction would be to defend himself, hiding behind his pride and withdrawing from the emotional connection that the discovery forces him to confront.

(Thranduil’s Reaction to His Partner (you) Discovering His Scar for the First Time) Artwork is https://www.deviantart.com/kapriss-art

The evening sun cast soft beams of light through the delicate curtains of Thranduil’s private chamber, lending the room a quiet warmth. The air was still, save for the occasional rustling of papers on his desk as the Elven King worked through the mountain of tasks that awaited him. His eyes, sharp and unwavering as ever, scanned over the documents laid before him. The endless duties of his kingdom—decisions regarding trade, diplomatic correspondence, matters of defense—all required his attention. His posture was regal, every inch the king, even as he worked through the mundane details of his rule. Thranduil sat at his desk with an air of command, his back straight, shoulders squared. His movements were graceful yet purposeful, as though even in the most private moments, he carried the weight of his crown. He wore a rich, deep green tunic embroidered with intricate silver threads, the soft fabric clinging to his frame with an elegance that was uniquely his. Over his shoulders, a dark, flowing cloak rested, embroidered with the patterns of Mirkwood, its edges catching the fading light of the day. His boots, polished and well-crafted, were placed firmly beneath the desk, his posture impeccable, as though no matter the task, he remained the sovereign of his realm. His long, platinum blonde hair fell in waves over his shoulders, the light catching the strands in a way that made them shimmer with ethereal beauty. Yet, in this private chamber, amidst the solitude of his duties, there was no grandeur in his bearing—just the weight of centuries and the burdens of his people. Even as he reviewed the kingdom’s affairs, there was something weighted in the quiet space between his breaths, something lingering beneath his carefully maintained exterior.

But as the quiet hum of the room settled around him, a sudden, sharp discomfort ran through Thranduil’s left cheek, pulling his focus from his duties. It began as a gentle throb, but it quickly escalated into something far worse—an all-consuming burn. The deep scars from the dragon fire, once hidden beneath layers of glamour magic, flared up violently, sending waves of heat crashing across his face. The fire-like sensation surged with an intensity that was both unbearable and all too familiar. Thranduil’s jaw clenched, his body stiffening for a brief moment. He did not let out a sound, but his eyes narrowed in quiet frustration. He could feel the searing pain radiating from the left side of his face, sharp and jagged like the burns that marred him. His left eye—the one that would never see clearly again—seemed to throb in unison with the scar, an ever-present reminder of the battle with the Fire Drakes.

His hand, almost instinctively, moved to touch the source of the pain. For a moment, he hesitated, a breath catching in his throat. The glamour magic that concealed the scar, the magic he had long relied on, was slipping. It was exhausting, maintaining the illusion. The energy needed to keep the glamour intact had become too much, and the pain, so familiar now, was forcing him to abandon it. He sighed softly and allowed the glamour to fade. For the first time in what felt like ages, the scar was exposed in its full, raw form. The jagged burn marks on his left cheek were a stark contrast to his fair skin, darkened and angry as if the fire still smoldered beneath his flesh. The once regal beauty of his face—unscathed and unmarred—was now forever marked by the cruel legacy of the dragon fire. He could not escape it, no matter how he tried.

His breathing quickened slightly, and a soft hiss escaped him as the heat in his face flared, the burn becoming unbearable. The pain was not new to him, but it always took him off guard in moments like these. Thranduil closed his eyes for a moment, trying to regain control over his body, to quell the urge to grit his teeth and wince. The cool damp cloth on the table beside him seemed like a distant solution, but it was the only one he had. With trembling hands, Thranduil reached for it, his fingers brushing against the fabric, his breath shallow with the intensity of the flare-up. He dipped the cloth into the bowl of cool water, wringing it gently before lifting it to his face.

As the cloth touched his skin, a sharp, involuntary hiss escaped him. The coolness of the cloth made immediate contact with the burn, and while it provided a fleeting moment of relief, the sensation of cold against fire was jarring. His body jerked slightly as the heat clashed with the coolness, the sudden contrast both shocking and relieving. His skin seemed to scream for the comfort of the coolness, but it also rebelled against the harsh interruption. For a few moments, Thranduil remained still, eyes shut tight, the cloth pressed against his cheek. The momentary reprieve was all too brief, as the sensation of heat never fully receded. He could still feel the constant throb in his skin, the tender rawness that would never completely heal. His face, once a symbol of untarnished grace and regality, was now a reminder of battle’s price.

Thranduil let out a deep, controlled breath, trying to ground himself in the moment. He applied more pressure to the cloth, his fingers trembling with the subtle strain. It wasn’t enough to make the pain go away—it never was—but it was enough to bring a momentary distraction, enough to let him endure, if only for a while longer. His chest rose and fell with each measured breath, the rhythmic inhalation and exhalation the only thing that allowed him to focus on something other than the searing, never-ending pain. As he pulled the cloth away, a faint line of tension remained in his face. His left cheek, once again exposed, carried the marks of his past: the scarred skin, the fragile remains of a battle that had taken so much from him. Thranduil sat back, his gaze lingering on the reflection in the polished wood of the desk before him. For a moment, his features softened, though only the barest trace of vulnerability crossed his face. The silent struggle, the constant battle against pain, was something he could not escape—even in his private chambers, surrounded by the protection of his own walls.

Then, without another word, he reached for the goblet of Dorwinion wine resting at his side. The cool glass felt smooth in his hands as he lifted it to his lips, the dark crimson liquid swirling gently within. It was not just a drink; it was his comfort, his ritual. The potent warmth of the wine slid down his throat, bringing with it a small measure of ease. It was a companion to his scars—something that could dull the discomfort, something that could shield him from the weight of it all, even if just for a few fleeting moments. Thranduil placed the goblet of Dorwinion wine back down onto the polished wooden surface of his desk with deliberate care, his long fingers lingering on its stem for a moment. The dimming light of the evening caught the wine’s deep crimson hue, reflecting faintly in the goblet’s rippling surface. His sharp eyes, usually filled with regal authority, softened as they settled on the faint reflection cast back at him from the dark liquid.

The scar, revealed in his private sanctuary now that the exhausting glamour magic had been allowed to fade, marred the perfection of his otherwise flawless face. The jagged lines of burnt, twisted skin that snaked across the left side of his face seemed more pronounced in the distorted surface of the wine. His left eye, blind and clouded, stared back at him, a stark reminder of the dragon fire that had consumed so much—not just his flesh but his pride, his sense of invulnerability, and a piece of his spirit. His fingers clenched the edge of the desk, his breathing slow but measured as he held back the surge of emotion that always threatened to overwhelm him in moments like this. He had long mastered the art of burying his feelings, suppressing them beneath layers of cold detachment and indomitable authority. But here, alone, with no one to see and no one to judge, the weight of the scar pressed upon him. It burned not with physical pain now, though the flare-ups were frequent enough. Instead, it burned with memory—the memory of fire, of searing agony, of the bitter realization that even an elven king was not untouchable.

As he stared at his reflection, a flicker of doubt crossed his face, and his jaw tightened. He hated it. Hated the way it had stolen something from him. Not just his physical perfection but the sense of invincibility he had carried for so long. Thranduil was prideful—too prideful, perhaps—and his scar was an affront to everything he had worked to embody. It made him feel flawed, vulnerable, mortal. The thought of someone seeing him like this—seeing the imperfection, the weakness—tightened the knot in his chest. What would they see? A king who had fallen? A shadow of his former self? He feared that even those closest to him, those who claimed to care for him, might look at him differently if they truly saw him.

His eyes dropped to the wine again, the rippling surface blurring the lines of his reflection, obscuring the scar in fragmented waves. For a brief, irrational moment, he wished the wine could do the same for him in reality—erase the mark entirely, make him whole again, as if the fire had never touched him. But he knew better. The scar would always be there, beneath the glamour, beneath the layers of pride and stoicism. He leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes briefly, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as if trying to quell the ache that had settled behind his temples. His mind wandered to what the scar truly meant. It was a mark of failure, yes, but it was also a mark of survival. He had endured the fire. He had endured the pain. He had endured the shame of it all. And yet, the weight of it was no less heavy now than it had been centuries ago. A sigh escaped him, soft and low, barely audible in the quiet room. He straightened again, his gaze sharpening as he forced the emotions down once more. The scar would remain hidden, just as it always had, and no one would ever see it—not willingly. He could not bear the thought of revealing it, of sharing that piece of himself, even with someone he trusted. It was his burden, his pain, and his alone. The goblet hovered near Thranduil’s lips, the deep crimson wine catching the fading evening light as he took another slow sip. His eyes, distant and unfocused, remained fixed on the swirling liquid within, his thoughts drifting through the labyrinth of his insecurities. He was lost in a tide of memories—of fire and pain, of failure and survival—and so consumed by the weight of them that he didn’t notice the soft creak of the door opening, nor the quiet footsteps that followed.

You stepped into the room, your intention simply to see Thranduil, as you had not seen much of him throughout the day. It was not unusual for you, as his partner, to enter his chambers unannounced. Thranduil often became so immersed in the weight of his duties that he lost track of time, and you had made it a habit to check on him, to offer him solace in the quiet moments he rarely allowed himself. The chamber was dimly lit, bathed in the soft glow of the fading evening light streaming through the tall windows. Your steps were light, almost soundless, as you moved closer. At first, the sight of him seemed as familiar as ever—Thranduil seated at his desk, the very image of quiet authority. He sat with his back straight, his long platinum blonde hair cascading over his shoulders, his usual air of command emanating from his every movement. But there was something different now, something that made you slow your steps. His posture, while still upright, lacked its usual unyielding confidence. His shoulders seemed slightly tense, his head tilted downward as though weighed by unseen burdens.

It was a rare thing to see him like this. Here, in the privacy of his chambers, Thranduil allowed himself to shed the unrelenting mask of perfection he wore before others. But tonight, there was something more—a vulnerability in the way his fingers lingered at the goblet of wine, the faint lines of exhaustion that even the soft glow of the room couldn’t hide. As your eyes adjusted further to the low light, they fell to his face—his left side—and you froze mid-step. The glamour that he so carefully maintained, the magic that concealed his deepest insecurity, was gone. In its place was the raw, unguarded truth of the dragon fire’s mark. The scar you had never known existed marred his otherwise flawless features, jagged and stark against his pale skin. The burn lines crawled over his cheek and forehead, reaching dangerously close to his eye, the milky haze of blindness on that side painfully apparent. Your breath caught in your throat, not from revulsion, but from the sheer weight of the vulnerability before you. This was a side of Thranduil you had never seen—a side he had clearly worked tirelessly to conceal.

He didn’t notice you at first, still lost in his thoughts, the weight of his duties pressing down on him. But then, as you stepped forward, the soft sound of your movement broke the stillness of the room. The quiet gasp that escaped your lips caught Thranduil off guard, like a pebble disturbing the calm surface of a lake. His head snapped up in an instant, his sharp senses finally registering your presence. His body tensed at once, his fingers tightening around the goblet of Dorwinion wine so forcefully that the thin glass seemed on the verge of cracking. For a moment, he just stared at you, his piercing icy blue eye wide with shock and something deeper—fear. “Y/N—” His voice faltered, his calm and regal demeanor slipping for the first time. He straightened in his chair, almost instinctively, his hand moving to his left cheek, hovering over the scar as though it might disappear at his touch. His fingers lingered, unsure whether to hide or acknowledge the exposed imperfection. “What are you doing here?” he asked, his tone sharper than he intended, an edge of panic hidden beneath his words. The question wasn’t just an inquiry; it was a barrier, a defense.

You took a tentative step forward, your gaze flickering between his eyes and the scar that he so clearly wished to hide. “I—Thranduil, I didn’t mean to intrude,” you murmured softly, your voice a blend of surprise and gentle concern. “I… I just wanted to see you. I hadn’t seen much of you today, and I—” Before you could finish, his head turned away from you, his hand still placed over the left side of his face, as if to shield the scar from view. But it was too late; you had seen it. The defenses he had so carefully constructed, the barriers he had maintained for centuries, had been breached. The mark of dragon fire, the jagged scar that twisted across his skin, was now fully visible, its painful history and the vulnerability it carried laid bare.

“Leave.” The word was sharp, almost harsh, but the tremble in his voice betrayed the storm of emotion beneath. His face hardened, his features slipping into the cold mask he so often used to distance himself from others. But even that mask couldn’t fully hide the raw vulnerability in his eye, the way his hand lingered near his face, as if trying to erase what had already been exposed. “Thranduil…” you said softly, stepping closer despite his command. Your heart ached at the sight of him, at the pain etched not only into his skin but into his very being. “You don’t have to hide this from me.” You didn’t know what drove you to speak those words—perhaps it was the overwhelming tenderness you felt for him in that moment, or the fierce desire to show him that nothing would change how you saw him. “You’re not weak,” you added quietly, as if trying to reassure him, to lift the weight of his insecurities. But the distance between you both still lingered in the air, the tension thick. You could feel the internal battle raging within him, the fear of being truly seen, and yet the quiet ache of needing to be accepted just as he was.

His jaw tightened, his gaze flickering briefly to the reflection in the wine goblet before returning to you. The cold mask of composure slipped further from his face, leaving him vulnerable in ways he wasn’t accustomed to. “You know nothing of what I must do. Of what I must be,” he said, his voice quiet but laced with a tremor of something deeper—fear, pride, and a strain of something raw beneath it all. “This scar… It is not something I wish for you to see. It is not… who I am.” Your eyes softened, heart aching at the depth of his words. Gently, you shook your head, stepping closer. “But it is a part of you,” you whispered, your voice unwavering, full of love and compassion. “And it doesn’t make you any less of the king you are. Or the man I love.” For a long moment, he stood there, still, as though your words were a distant echo he couldn’t quite understand. His hand, still hovering over the scar, fell slowly away, and with it, the wall he had built around himself started to crumble. He exposed the mark fully, not with pride, but with a painful hesitation, his eyes on you—waiting for judgment, waiting for disappointment. But all he found in your gaze was compassion, unwavering and steady. It disarmed him in a way he hadn’t anticipated, a vulnerability he hadn’t allowed himself to acknowledge before. It unsettled him, how open you were with him, how unafraid you were of seeing him as he truly was. It was the opposite of everything he had feared.

“I…” His voice faltered, thick with emotion, words hanging on the edge of his tongue. His pride and his fear fought fiercely, pushing him to retreat, to build his walls once more. He wanted to hide, to erase what you now saw. But then, there was your gaze—gentle, understanding, patient—and it caused him to hesitate. He finally spoke, his voice quieter now, almost broken. “This scar… It is a reminder of my failure. Of the pain I endured. Of the fire that nearly consumed me.” He turned his face slightly, almost ashamed to meet your eyes, his voice heavy with the weight of that painful memory. “It is a weakness I cannot bear for you to see.” You stepped closer, reaching out with a tenderness that filled the space between you. Your hand settled gently over his, still resting on the desk, your touch warm and grounding. “Thranduil,” you murmured softly, your voice full of warmth and quiet strength. “It is not weakness. You survived. You endured. And if this scar is a reminder of anything, it’s of your strength. Not your failure.” You paused, your words softening with even more love. “It’s a battle scar, Thranduil. Everyone has them. And they are unique to each of us. They are part of our story, not our shame. Yours is no different.” At your words, he finally allowed himself to meet your eyes fully. For the first time, he felt seen—not just as a king, but as a man. The fear that had gripped him began to soften, the trembling edges of his pride faltering in the face of your unwavering acceptance. The walls he had spent centuries building, the barriers he had so carefully maintained to protect his heart, began to crack. And in the place of the fear, he found something else—something warm and soft, as though the faintest glimmer of hope was beginning to take root in the cracks of his soul. Your touch, your words, your gaze—they were all he needed. In that moment, with everything laid bare, the deepest parts of him, the parts he had long buried, slowly began to heal.

You drew in a breath, letting the moment settle between you, your voice barely a whisper but full of the weight of your love. “And I love you, Thranduil,” you added, your words steady and unwavering, “beyond what you look like, beyond what scars you carry, beyond the image you’ve carefully crafted. I love you for who you are, for your heart, your strength, your mind, and the kindness you don’t often show.” His heart clenched at your words, emotions swirling in him as the walls finally cracked enough for him to let them in. He wasn’t sure how to process this new vulnerability, this tenderness from you. But in that moment, he realized something: he didn’t have to hide from you. Not anymore.

“Do you mean that?” Thranduil’s voice was soft, almost fragile, as if testing your words, unsure if he could truly believe them. His eyes searched yours, looking for any hint of doubt, of a lie—but all he found was sincerity but now softened by a trace of vulnerability he rarely showed anyone. You nodded gently, brushing your thumb over the back of his hand in a soothing motion. “Every word,” you said, your voice steady, full of warmth and certainty. “You don’t have to hide from me, Thranduil. Not this, not anything. I see you—the real you—and I love you all the same.” For a long moment, he remained silent, his gaze never leaving yours. The weight of your words seemed to hang in the air, filling the space between you. His chest rose and fell slowly, his shoulders tense, yet with every breath, you could see a subtle release—a softening of the guard he had held so tightly for centuries. Finally, with a quiet exhale, he leaned back in his chair, his body relaxing ever so slightly. The scar was still there, as was the pain that came with it, but something had shifted in him. For the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to believe that perhaps, just perhaps, he didn’t have to carry it alone.

You smiled softly, feeling the tiniest flicker of relief in his posture. To reassure him, you took a step closer Before he could gather his thoughts, you gently cupped his face, your thumb brushing over the sharp curve of his jaw, as though trying to memorize the feel of him—every part of him. And then, with a quiet tenderness, you pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, lingering just a moment before pulling away slightly. His eyes fluttered closed, a soft breath escaping him, as though the simplest of gestures had undone something deep within him. You continued your gentle assault of his face with tender kisses, one by one. A light kiss on his cheek, his nose, his chin, each kiss filled with tenderness, each one a reaffirmation of your words. The slight scent of his skin grounding you as your lips traveled to the corner of his mouth. Each kiss was a promise, a reminder that you didn’t care about the scars—inside or out.

As you kissed along his jawline, you paused for a brief moment, your lips hovering above the scar. You were careful, mindful of any pain it might cause him, but you felt the need to show him that it didn’t matter. That the scar didn’t change how you saw him. Slowly, you brushed your lips against the scar’s edge, your kiss soft and reverent, as if you were honoring the pain and strength that it represented. Thranduil’s breath hitched slightly, and you noticed his pointy elf ears turning a deeper shade of red, flushed with a mix of embarrassment and something else—a quiet, unfamiliar vulnerability that stirred in his chest. His usual composed exterior was beginning to crack under your gentle affection, and it was clear he didn’t quite know how to handle it. You loved him, and you loved him fully, with every inch of his being as You smiled up at him, your eyes warm with love. “You’re beautiful, Thranduil,” you whispered, pressing one last, lingering kiss on his scar. “Inside and out.” your voice soft but filled with adoration. A soft flush spread across his face, and for the first time, you saw the true depth of his discomfort—not from your touch, but from the way he was letting you in. His vulnerability, his scar, it all seemed to unnerve him more than he cared to admit. But despite the unease, you saw something else in him too: acceptance. A slowly dawning realization that, perhaps, he could be seen—completely, imperfections and all—and still be loved. After a beat, you pulled back slightly, your lips curling into a playful smile. “You know,” you teased, voice light, “I think it’s kind of sexy.”

Thranduil’s eyes widened slightly, a look of surprise crossing his features, before his lips curled up into the faintest of smirks. His pointy elven ear tips flushed a deeper shade of red, and he leaned in slightly, as if caught off guard by your flirtation. “Sexy, hmm?” he replied, his voice low and teasing, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. “You’re an unpredictable one, Y/N.” You laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Well, you are a king, and now I know you’re even more… intriguing than I thought.” Thranduil, still a little flushed but clearly more at ease than before, relaxed further in his chair. The weight of his insecurities, though not gone completely, felt lighter. It was clear that, in this moment, you had done something for him he had not allowed anyone to do in centuries—he was seen, truly seen, and still loved. And that, perhaps, was more than he had ever hoped for.

Thranduil’s gaze flickered to yours, the familiar spark of his regal pride returning as he raised an eyebrow. He almost smirked, but there was something deeper in his eyes now—something more vulnerable, more real. “Is that so?” he asked, his tone light but laced with a hint of amusement. You grinned, leaning in to kiss his cheek once more, this time lingering for a moment longer. “Very much so,” you whispered, your lips brushing against his skin in the softest caress. “But more than that, it’s your strength. You’re the most handsome man I’ve ever known, and nothing could change that.” For a fleeting moment, Thranduil allowed himself to fully appreciate the weight of your words. Though he remained guarded, the walls he had built began to feel less necessary, less suffocating. For the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to believe that maybe—just maybe—he didn’t have to be perfect to be loved. As your words lingered in the air, his cheeks flushed, a faint, almost imperceptible warmth spreading over his skin. His usually proud and composed demeanor faltered for a moment, the tips of his pointed elven ears turning the softest shade of red. The king of Mirkwood, a creature known for his unshakable poise, now stood before you, his pride vulnerable in the gentlest way. He let out a quiet breath, a small, reluctant smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, a smile he rarely showed, but one that made him seem almost… human.

“I… did not expect that,” he murmured, his voice softer now, betraying a vulnerability that had been locked away for centuries. There was a quiet reverence in his expression as he looked at you, the raw honesty in his eyes making him appear more open than he had ever been before. Your heart swelled at the sight of him, knowing you had reached him in a way no one else had. With a soft chuckle, you pressed one final kiss to his cheek. “Well, I think you’re the one who’s full of surprises, my king.” Thranduil’s smile widened, a rare but genuine smile, and the warmth in his eyes lingered, a silent promise that, for the first time, he was letting someone see him fully—and that was enough for him to let go of the walls he had built so high. “Thank you, my starlight,” he whispered, his voice gentle but filled with sincerity. He reached out, his hand brushing softly against your cheek before his fingers traced the line of your jaw with a tender grace. His touch was warm, grounding, as if trying to silently convey just how much you meant to him in that moment. His gaze held yours, filled with both gratitude and something deeper—something more tender.

You smiled, the warmth in your chest growing, and without a word, you let your body respond to his quiet request. Thranduil shifted slightly in his chair, and with a subtle motion, he guided you into his arms. He didn’t speak it, but his eyes and gentle touch made it clear—he wanted to feel your presence close, to have your warmth as a source of comfort and solace after the weight of what he had shared. As you shifted, moving to straddle him, you saw his posture relax even more, as if your closeness was the balm he needed for the rawness he had just exposed. He let out a quiet sigh of relief, the tension melting from his shoulders as you settled against him, your body fitting into his with a natural ease. His hands gently cradled your back, pulling you closer, his touch more tender than commanding, as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in the calmness you provided.

For a long moment, the world outside of the two of you faded, and Thranduil simply held you, the king of Mirkwood becoming something more human in your arms. There was no need for words now—only the comforting rhythm of your breathing and the silent understanding between you both. You didn’t say anything. You simply let him feel the love and warmth he had so carefully hidden away, offering him the solace he needed without judgment, without question. And as he held you closer, Thranduil allowed himself to melt into the comfort of your embrace, a quiet whisper escaping his lips, “I never want to let go of this.”

#thranduil #thranduil x you #thranduil x reader #king thranduil x reader #elven thranduil #thranduil headcanons #thranduil oropherion #thranduil of mirkwood #thranduil headcanon #king thranduil #elvenking of mirkwood #lord of the rings #the hobbit #thranduil simps #thranduil supremacy

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tealvenetianmask · 21 minutes ago

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I don't think you meant to do this, so I'm very sorry, but you just knocked me into Blitz defender mode. I might do a longer post on this later, since it's a tangent and I want to keep it short.

Blitz IS responsible. He adopted a very traumatized teenager and got her on her feet. He cooks and cleans on the regular and keeps himself and Loona fed and comfortable. He runs a (often fairly successful) business where he looks out for the safety of his team every day. He overcomes his society's prejudices against imps in order to do this. We just learned that he DID follow through and get insurance for I.M.P. When he lets things slide and his decisions get bad in Ghostfuckers, everything (especially Moxxie- let's be honest) falls apart.

What traits make him look irresponsible? Well, he's impulsive. He makes bad money decisions at times. And bad relationship decisions other times out of insecurity. He hates paper work (and I think he's probably bad at it). He sometimes falls on his face, especially when getting out of cars. These are . . . real (especially for people with ADHD, trauma, etc..). They do not overshadow the stuff above.

He's the responsible one in a lot of his relationships.

Stolas will be the responsible one at times too. Stolas is USED TO being responsible. He's also going through a lot though and needs WAY MORE SELF-AWARENESS STILL (see above), so he'll need a lot of help from Blitz, especially as he gets settled.

The good news: Blitz is up for the task. He's used to helping and encouraging people who have been through a lot. He knows how to navigate his world. He's not going to panic about this- taking care is what he's good at.

And I think that some of Stolas's qualities (meticulous, well read, compassionate, polite until he's seriously pushed. . . even a bit of the confidence that comes with entitlement . . .) will benefit them as a couple after some adjustment.

Stolas Makes Decisions Alone

I'm here to predict more problems ahead for Stolas. But don't worry- I do think he'll get through them because of character growth.

Stolas has a pattern of taking drastic actions that he believes are right and getting so caught up in his own point of view that he doesn't really listen to anyone else. I don't think he realizes this about himself. As much as he's now dealing with the consequences of his decisions at the end of Season 2, he hasn't yet learned that he can't go it alone. That he needs to communicate with the people his decisions impact- namely Blitz and Octavia, the people he cares for most. What I'm saying is, even though he's not the only one, our lovely owl man is a misunderstanding factory.

As for why he's like this, I have some ideas, but first, let's quickly go over the ways we've seen this behavior play out in HB.

It's treated as kind of light in Season 1 . . . despite being great with words, he's a lousy communicator because he gets carried away with his own ideas.

In Murder Family, Stolas has no idea that Blitz is panicking and . . . yes, I believe feeling pressured in this moment, even if he likes the deal later. In Loo Loo Land, he doesn't pay attention to Octavia's (not subtle) reactions enough to realize that no, she does not want to go to Loo Loo, and she absolutely doesn't want to bring the person Stolas cheated with along as a bodyguard. Also . . . as soon as Stolas listens to Octavia here, their communication improves, and Octavia is allowed to decide on the next father daughter activity.

The independent decision making tendency becomes more serious . . . tragic . . . in The Full Moon.

Stolas goes into the episode with a plan to do what he believes is right (freeing Blitz from himself), and he's so set on it that he blindsides the guy and shuts him out at the first hint of rejection, unable to pay enough attention to realize that it's . . . not actually rejection, just another wounded person reacting to a sudden change, since the entire decision making process already happened inside Stolas's mind.

Okay . . . Mastermind and Sinsmas.

I'm letting him off the hook for Mastermind, because he had only seconds to do something to save Blitz's life. I don't think he's wrong here. BUT symbolically, in the courtroom, Stolas rarely looks at Blitz. Someone who loves him is standing behind him, and there are moments of recognition between them, but Stolas still faces the decision, and his fate, alone.

In Sinsmas, we get the most blatant version of this kind of decision making. Yes, I know he's off his meds and going through a lot. He could have waited a few more minutes for Blitz to get back and talked through his decision to march up to his palace and demand to see his daughter. Blitz could have helped him calm down, and they could've had a conversation and decided on the best way to do it.

But that isn't how Stolas makes decisions. It isn't how he's EVER made decisions. Helping Stolas would put Blitz in danger, or Blitz might try to convince him to wait. So in Stolas's mind, if it's a choice between being kept from his daughter and dying alone by Andrealphus's hand, well . . .

There's so much that could be discussed here. Medication/depression. Suicidality. Autism . . . does this pattern stem in part from difficulty reading social cues?

These are all topics worth analyzing but . . . here's one thing that I think is at the core of Stolas's character regardless of the situation or other factors.

Stolas had all of his decisions made for him for his entire life. No one consulted him. Ever. Not about his career. Not about his marriage. Not about how he would choose to behave and conduct himself in the world.

Then when he was somewhere between 18 and 20, he had a child. And suddenly, his decisions mattered. Not in the big ways for himself. He still had to carry out all of his responsibilities. But he could decide how to raise this kid (Stella wasn't really interested in raising her after all). He could do everything in his power to make her childhood joyful, to make her feel loved, to teach her that she could be herself.

The problem is, making decisions for a kid doesn't make you a great collaborative decision maker. Being a parent means being an authority. He wasn't totalitarian like his own father, but there wasn't really anyone to honestly talk through his decisions and process his emotions with. So he's spent 35ish years never making a decision with someone else.

He's also rich and powerful, and that both keeps him isolated and gives him . . . a somewhat outsized view of his own importance and ability to control situations, in my opinion.

But now Octavia is 17, and making decisions that impact her without adequately communicating doesn't really work anymore.

And the other person he loves is Blitz. And yes, Mastermind is an exception, but Blitz usually doesn't need to be rescued or protected. He certainly doesn't need to be protected from Stolas (i.e. The Full Moon). He needs a partner. And Stolas needs one too.

So yeah, until Stolas learns to communicate (or at least learns that it's necessary) I worry about what he'll go off and do on his own.

Note: please don't take this as me blaming EVERYTHING on Stolas. Blitz and Octavia both have some responsibility for the miscommunications that go on. I just think this particular tendency of Stolas's is interesting and wanted to explore it.

#lol sorry for doing this to you @lonewolf23k #I'm not mad at your response at all #you just made me think thoughts

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etherealmelodys · 2 days ago

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Choi Su-Bong/ Thanos

NSFW Alphabet

Warning: Talks of oral, penetrative sex, squirting, dacryphilia, mentions of drugs, Thanos just being himself.

A/N: ong I'm sick of ppl writing Thanos like he's abusive, my purple haired king would never!! But tbh he's lucky he ain't real or I'd suck the skin right off his dick ykwim

A - Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Contrary to popular belief, I don't think he'd be that bad at aftercare. He's not amazing at it don't get me wrong, but he's not gonna just leave you alone with nothing. He definitely might offer you some sort of drug he's got on his roster, but I believe he'd clean you up and make sure that you're feeling okay and get confirmation that he wasn't too rough with you.

B - Body Part (Their favorite body part on you and themselves)

Nobody can tell me that this man isn't obsessed with his tongue oml. To him, it's a gift from the gods that he gets to use it to taste every part of you. From your soft lips to your breasts, all the way down to your cunt. He's an ass man oh my. He loves the way it jiggles when he fucks you from behind, how soft and smooth it is when he grips it while you ride him.

C - Cum (Anything to do with cum)

You cannot tell me this man doesn't love cumming all over your back or ass. He's obsessed with the way it slides down the curve of your ass, coating his thighs in the substance. He adores how messy the whole process is, wanting to see you covered in just him, it could get him higher than any drug he's tried.

D - Dirty Secret ( Self-explanatory)

He just wants one night where he can do whatever he wants to your tits. Whether it be playing with your nipples, leaving hickeys on them, massaging them, or more importantly squishing them together and fucking them, his tip going between your plump lips every time he thrusts up into them.

E - Experience (How experienced are they?)

Did y'all see all the people that swarmed him once they knew who he was? Imagine what it was like outside the games. He is well-experienced when it comes to fucking someone, but not having an intimate moment with another person.

F - Favorite Position (What positions do they like the most?)

He loves any position that puts him in a position of control. He loves reverse cowgirl especially because it gives him full access to the sight of your ass. He's also a fan of doggy style, again due to the sight he gets of your ass but also because of how deep he can get in that position.

G - Goofy (How serious are they in the moment? Do they tease you?)

He is teasing the shit outta you I'm so sorry. I don't think he has the capability not to tease you. It just gets him so worked up seeing your eyes well up with tears at his comments, it just makes his cock throb.

H - Hair (What’s the hair situation down there)

I honestly cannot decide with him. For one he gives off the vibes that he's bald down there, finding the hair to be an annoyance. But also I don't think he'd care enough about it to shave it and just let it grow. For the sake of the argument, I'm just gonna say he shaves his shit bald.

I - intimacy (How romantic are they in the moment?)

I feel like there are some times when he can be very romantic if you need it. Usually, he's the type to go rough and fast. But occasionally he can be slow and sensual, giving you gentle kisses and touches, treating you as if you were the most delicate thing he's ever handled.

J - Jack Off (How often do they touch themselves?)

He jacks off very frequently, about every other day tbh. I don't think he'd do it to porn often, and if he did it would be to an actor who looks like you. But most of the time he does it to the memory of you, whether it be you grinding down on his face making those pretty noises he loves so much, or him fucking into you, your whines the only thing he can hear besides the slapping of your skin against his.

K - Kinks (What are their kinks?)

You cannot tell me this man isn't into Exhibitionism. He loves the idea of you guys almost getting caught in the middle of the act, he swears he feels himself get even harder at the sight of you trying to quiet yourself down in an attempt to not get caught. He's also into dacryphilia, seeing you cry from the overwhelming amount of pleasure he's causing you makes him cum right on the spot.

L - Location (Where do they prefer to have sex?)

He would be into anything public, bathroom stalls, fingering you under a table, having you bounce on his dick in a dark crowded club, he's into it all.

M - Motivation (What turns them on?)

Seeing you in any type of revealing clothing, especially skirts, immediately gets him hard. Seeing you in lingerie is by far the sexiest thing you could wear in front of him. He'd want you to keep it on as he bends you over, pulling the lingerie to the side and eating you out to his heart's content.

N - No (What are some things they’ll never do?)

He's not really into the whole submissive role, he always wants to be the one in charge, at least during any sexual interaction. He's also not into doing anything that can seriously harm you.

O - Oral (How do they feel about oral? Do they prefer giving or receiving?)

I don't think he has a preference between the two. He loves the sight of you on your knees, trying to fit his cock in your mouth, tears in the corner of your eyes due to the brutal pace he's set fucking your face. But he also adores the feeling of your thighs wrapped around his head, unintentionally pulling him closer to your cunt. The feeling of it pulsing around his tongue when he finally makes you cum, the little whines and moans you let out from the overstimulation.

P - Pace (How fast/slow are they?)

He's fast with his pace, he swears he can't help himself. The feeling of your tight walls wrapped around his cock, practically begging him to pound you into the mattress with all the force he can muster. It's your fault for feeling so damm good.

Q - Quickie (How do they feel about quickies?)

He loves them so much! He's usually busy writing his songs or in the studio recording, so quickies are always a yes for him.

R - Risk (How willing are they to experiment? Do they take any risks?)

He loves experimenting, but he's usually the one to initiate it due to his impulsive behavior. If it’s something you're not willing to try he'd absolutely respect that. But if you brought something up? Oh baby he's down to do whatever as long as it doesn't put either of you in danger. Wanna try out bondage? Go ahead and get comfortable because you'll be tied up for a while.

S - Stamina (How many rounds can they do? How long can they go for?)

When he's not high out of his mind, he doesn't go that many rounds usually 2 will be enough to get him tired. But when he's off some? Ooh boy you better prepare yourself. This man is a beast when he pops a pill, you'll be so exhausted by the time he's finished. Expect around 4-5 rounds with him before he's all out of energy.

T - Toys (Do they have any toys? Are they willing to use any?)

I don't think he has that many to be frank, at most he has a vibrator or two, maybe a cock ring if you wanna be bold. I think he's so cocky and confident about his skills that he finds them to be unnecessary. Sometimes if you're having trouble cumming he’ll take one out and use it on you, but it always gets out of hand due to the fact that he wants to see you squirt from the toy. “Cmon baby, I know you can do it. Don't you wanna make me happy? I know it'll feel so good for you so just relax and squirt all over this toy”

U - Unfair (Do they tease you? How unfair are they in the bedroom?)

I fear this man is the biggest teaser throughout the whole show. He'd find a way to tease you about anything and everything. In the bedroom you are not getting a MOMENT of peace. This man will edge you and overstimulate you all in the same night. He’ll find a way to tease you about the noises you make, saying “Aww baby, you're being so loud! Am I making you feel that good? Don't be shy, you can admit that I'm the best at making you cum.”

V - Volume (How loud are they?)

He's not too loud when it comes to his noises, just occasional growl and grunt. He's definitely into dirty talk though, a lot of it. You'll hear him say stuff like “That's my good bitch, taking my cock up her cunt like the good girl she is. Don't worry baby, I'm gonna make you feel so good you won't know what to do with yourself.”

W - Weird Fact (Self-explanatory)

He's always wanted someone to do a line of coke off his cock while he was hard.

X - X Ray (What’s it looking like in those pants.)

He's about 5’11, a little on the thinner side, but he's still toned. I think he's a lot girthier than he is long, so about 5.7 inches, but his girth makes up for it. His tip color is a deeper pink color, around #E0676B. He has a slight curve down, with a thick vein running down the left side of his shaft.

Y - Yearning (How high is their sex drive? How often do they have sex?)

This man wants to do it with you every day. Not only is it the drugs that get him worked up, but just seeing you looking so damn sexy just being yourself, he could take you anytime anywhere, regardless of who's around.

Z - Zzz (How fast do they fall asleep after sex?)

I feel like he falls asleep very fast. After he's done making sure you're okay, he's slumped. He is not the type to wait for you to sleep first before he does.

(I've cooked with this one guys I cannot even lie. Thank you all sm for the recent support! I truly appreciate all the attention my work has gotten!)

Taglist:

@xera4170

#squid game #squid game smut #squid game 2 #choi su bong #player 230 #thanos #squid game fanfic #squid game fandom

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theyhavetakenovermylife · 2 days ago

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Hi! How are you? I hope that everything is fine! I was just thinking about some bayverse headcanons (+18)! What do u think about that? Because to be honest i need them 🤭 And btw i love your style of writing! Anyway i hope you are doing okey! Have a nice day! 🩷

Random Headcanons (18+)

Bayverse!Michelangelo x reader

A/N: Hehehe, I’ve been planning on making some 18+ headcanons for the Bayverse boys, but wanted to focus on the more untouched areas of my masterlist first. But since you asked so nicely, heheheh, I’ll give you one with Mikey🧡 And I’m good, thank you so much for asking, and I wish you too a nice day🧡

All characters are aged up.

Warnings: Lewd talk?, dirty talk?, mentioning of experimental sex.

Mr. Blunt and joyful right here. Mikey can be very blunt at times. If someone else found them in your position, they might have found his expression and comments quite a bit lewd and crude. How could he say such things to his girlfriend, and then within earshot of his own family? Well, you knew why, and therefore you didn’t find it as crude or lewd. Mikey never meant to be hurtful, he only tried to be funny, relying much on shock humor at times. He could come up and hug you from behind, swaying you side by side in a very loving manner, your head falling back and resting against his chest, smiling as he placed a kiss on your cheek, before resting his cheek against yours. And then; “How about you drop your pants and bend over, beautiful?” That had you roaring out in laughter. Though you would drop your pants and bend over a few moments later.

Mikey is not the type to let his sex life get stuck in a routine. In his opinion, a predictive sex life is as good as a dead one. He found new positions and dynamics very exciting, and it was often the excitement that he found very arousing. Couple that with a beautiful partner like you, who Mikey loved dearly, and you suddenly have wild and exciting love making. Sex between you and Mikey never felt boring. There was always something new to switch things up, and that excitement always did much, both for your and Mikey’s pleasure, but also several bonding experiences, bringing you closer and closer to each other.

It didn’t take much to get Mikey in the mood however. That just made it much easier for you when you were in the mood, having to do little to nothing to get your boyfriend in the same kind of mood. However, the most effective way to do this was to use Mikey’s own tactics against him. It didn’t come natural to you in the beginning, but as you and Mikey’s relationship progressed it became much easier. Soon it wasn’t strange for you to walk up behind Mikey while he was sitting in the couch, wrapping your arms around him, feeling him relax against you, like you would with him, before you would bring you lips down to where his ear would have been, whispering the words; “How about you drop your pants and give me something to ride on?”

If you were the only ones in the lair, Mikey would drop his pants on the spot. If anybody else was around, you would have to quickly remind him as he started fiddling with his fly, before going somewhere more private with Mikey hot on your heels.

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utilitycaster · 22 hours ago

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If I may, to give example of what a good faith argument looks like: let's take one floating out there: Bells Hells hasn't been together long. This is true! Here's some things to address:

why wasn't the campaign structured to facilitate rapid bonding and focus heavily on character development through focus on backstory over a short period of time? why not play characters who all already had a history? Calamity takes place over the course of a single day and we open with the party's relationships fully fleshed out.

Why did the Exandrian Accord pick them? technically speaking, we didn't even need a Ruidusborn to achieve the Accord's goals: they caught Ludinus before he went through the Hallowed Cage and killed him. The only reason to have a Ruidusborn is to get into the Hallowed Cage. Why are they making this decision other than "they are the characters whom the cast of Critical Role is playing for Campaign 3?"

I think this also gets to an issue that's preventing any real discussion, which is that criticizing Bells Hells for their choices (or, more often, lack thereof) is part of, but not the whole of, criticizing Campaign 3 for being poorly structured and paced and largely unsatisfying. There are in fact many stories about "guy who isn't particularly qualified for this task but does it anyway" and many of them are excellent and beloved (LOTR being one of the most obvious examples in fantasy fiction) and I think the issue is that with Bells Hells we don't really have an answer of why they are doing it other than Ludinus Is Bad and The Allies Whose Wishes We Might Betray Sent Us. I can think a story is good and the people within it suck and vice versa and honestly I maintain Bells Hells are a party that would have probably been great in an entirely different story, but they're in this one and they're not even meaningfully exploring "we're in this story and we shouldn't be and don't want to be."

#cr tag

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theflopwonder · 1 day ago

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I THINK ABOUT THIS ALLL OF THE TIMEEEEEEEE.

(also teehee i will be using this as an excuse to discuss what realistic racial dynamics in Gotham would look like bc I am a black new jersyian, which isn’t the point of this post but it activated my ranting chip, and is going to mirror a lot of what op says)

The thing that a lot of comic writers like to skimp over, unless it's to perpetuate harmful stereotypes, is that disenfranchised neighborhoods, particularly in the inner city, where Batman's work is initially concentrated, especially in the early years, are usually overwhelmingly populated by black and brown people. Historically, for black people specifically, this is because of a Great Migration period during Jim Crow where black folks would come up to the more industrialized north for increased job opportunities and less racism. This is why Newark, NJ has such a high African-American population to this day, it was one of the hotspots.

As a black person who has lived in both NJ suburbs and its inner cities, inner city gothamites would not like Batman for a long ass time, if at all. Why? A lot of comics will focus on Batman stopping a drug deal or a gang member, but do nothing to address the socioeconomic conditions, or demonstrate cultural competency in portraying these neighborhoods' relationship to drug dealing, drug addicts, gang affiliation, and organization, which is often very morally complex, and SURE AS HELL doesn't consider their relationships to police forces or assumes that the power dynamic is shifted in favor of the black and brown inner-city neighborhoods, rendering the cops useless and letting crime prevail which is even WORSE and just blatantly untrue.

OR They just take on a paternalistic view of "these neighborhoods and the people in them need to be saved from themselves". So they have this white man swoop in and save the day and everybody in the neighborhood is just supposed to love him, while the uptight politicians are the ones who have the criticism so you, as the viewer, will already have the seeds of hate planted so you feel vindicated when they are revealed as corrupt and THAT'S the real reason they hate Batman.

In the beginning, Batman will be seen as someone who contributes to the prison industrial complex. He is not helping the citizens of Gotham, he is just a cop. He is a symbol of another white man wreaking havoc on a predominately black neighborhood, and the police won't do anything to stop him. This will even be exacerbated by him beginning to work with the police. If Batman wants to be looked upon fondly by the people he is supposedly helping, he's going to have to acknowledge the racial divide between uptown and downtown Gothamites. He is going to have to WORK for his respect and understand the reasons why he, as Batman, may never get it

(my headcannon is that No Man's Land is when the perspectives of BOTH Bruce Wayne and Batman's reputations turned into net positives. For Bruce it was going to Congress and being the only one to fight directly for them, [as one of the major points of NML was how unfair it was to poor people]. For Batman, it's that when he couldn't get the kids left in NML out of the city, he stayed and protected them anyway. He didn't just go running off like everybody else [even tho he technically did, but y'know, they don't know that), and leave them stranded and alone? That's worthy of respect to them.)

Now if I was too apply ALL OF THIS to Red Hood ... the one shred of hope of black and brown citizens of Gotham would have is that Batman does not use lethal force. He will ruff up our people, break an arm or a leg or a nose, but he will not gun them down. He will not use lethal force. They will not lose their lives. He will let them see another day. And if they see another day, then they have the possibility to do better, and THAT is where Batman and the people of Gotham's hood will be able to find common ground and coexist with each other.

That is completely gone when Red Hood enters the scene.

No, people in the Gotham's hood would not like Red Hood, he would just make things worse. Way worse. He would be the actuality of what everyone feared about Batman. He would ruin a decade's worth of work that Batman put in trying to fix his reputation within these neighborhoods.

You only understand that when you understand black and brown people's relationship with law enforcement.

They will mistake black and brown mothers telling their children to be inside before the streetlights come on as "lower crime rates" and would they be correct? On the surface, sure. But it wouldn't be because of anything productive, it would be because you have successfully scared an entire neighborhood into complacency. You've essentially put them under unofficial marital law dictated by a myth and justified it by saying "Well Batman only scares people who need to be scared,"

(They do this in Batman v Superman, very blatantly, and with a Black woman saying it verbatim, and it's ... it's an interesting choice, I go back and forth on how I feel about it considering the timeline conditions but for now I digress).

I'd even go as far as to argue that the ONLY people who would like Batman as a concept from jump are non-black people in the suburbs. Batman is the type of idea that allows white people to have a conscious spa day, to offer up a simple solution to a complex problem so they don't have to do any deeper thinking about it. He is the whitest of the white savior concepts. Oh he's getting those drug dealers off the street? Thank god, they'll keep that fentanyl away from our promising young and precious suburban kids.

However, once Bruce Wayne began announcing all of these initiatives to help poor people, despite this being the thing that would be what make the crime rates go down and stay down, it also resulted in black and brown people ascending in socioeconomic status oh..... now those kids from the hood are going to be moving into our good schools.... they're going to corrupt our children and expose them to guns and drugs and gangs OH NO! NOT MY GOTHAM!

Semi-Anecdotally and Semi-Historically: This happens a lot in NJ & NY. Speaking for NJ, this happens a lot with kids in inner cities like Newark, who will move downwards to places like Plainfield, and then Plainfield becomes essentially segregated in everything but schools, and people will worry that those "Newark Gangsters" will corrupt their kids, so they move them down further into suburbia to like ... Edison, or Piscataway, where high housing is enough to keep people out. Then they begin defunding Plainfield schools, and stationing Plainfield cops in black parts of town until they decide to gentrify the neighborhood again.

(This is also why you shouldn't listen to people who question why people still live in Gotham. At one point, Camden was one of the most dangerous cities in the world. It is also a college town. Newark is still not a very safe place to live. It is ALSO technically a college town)

Canon-Wise, let's look at Robin issues 25 & 26 (my detested) where a storyline about bringing guns to school has one of Tim's classmates say this verbatim.

He ends up losing his life to a black student via gunshot. It’s framed as ambiguous but to me there’s an obvious reason why this escalated LMFAO don't put your hands on people in a school hallway.

Despite the fact that both kids pull out a gun at the exact same time, and shoot the exact same amount of bullets, who do you think gets more sympathy from both Tim and from the narrative altogether?

Whose motives are positioned as higher in moral value?

Who’s motives are ever even considered?

Who is Tim allowed to lecture gently, vs who is he and Bruce allowed to hunt down, scare, and capture?

This story is allowed to have emotional weight for Tim because he knows Karl. It deliberately attempts to make the reader lose sympathy for Young El because they attach him to a gang.

Batman does make a point to mention that it just easily could’ve been Young-El that died, but it only positions Karl as the only who “doesn’t understand his choice”. They’re the same age. Both high school students. Could it not also be argued that Young El’s situation is worse because he is being exploited by a gang, that is also taking advantage of the fact that he does not fully comprehend the choices that he makes? Or does that only apply to poor former bully jock Karl Ranck.

Let’s also unpack that subtle but glaring racism.

1. The immediate assumption that Young-El will re-offend is racist. Although Tim says it directly, Bruce also indirectly agrees, (conditionally to prop up the "usefulness" of Batman). Was Young El the first person to say it? Sure, but that's just more racism being perpetuated by the narrative because it's not being done to try to make the reader understand black and brown people's relationship to the incarceration system and why recidivism commonly happens, it's meant to portray Young El as a mouthy kid resisting arrest for a crime he committed.

It offers no sympathy towards him even though he is just as much a pawn in the city’s corruption as any other child that falls into a gang. If anything this should be more incentive to y’know … make sure he has help upon release but hey what do I know?

2. This moment, specifically:

If we are analyzing this keeping in mind that Young El does not know who Robin is, but can fully hear this statement being made towards him, ABOUT HIM, in this context that means this can now be considered a VERY racist micro-aggression being aimed towards him. To even hit on the point of each citizen preferring a different vigilante, this is now a reason that Robin's reputation is in the negatives. If I can't count on you to arrest me without being subjected to what can easily be taken as a racial microaggression (because again, he doesn't know who Tim is, or his relationship to this crime and it is unrealistic to expect him to, all he knows is that this white kid is arresting him and telling him that he's essentially too stupid to understand him, which is reinforcing a racial power dynamic) there is now nothing separating you from a regular degular cop.

3. The idea that the fear of seeing Batman will be enough for Young El to not re-offend is racism. That’s not hope for someone's future, that's a form of oppression and is AGAIN fueled by the narrative’s refusal to extend any sympathy to Young El. Telling black and brown citizens that "beyond the law and the courts" (that have historically tried to eradicate us btw) there is …. More fear? More reason to be afraid of the world? And then you wanna end the comic talking about some damn PEACE?????? PEACE FOR WHO???????

Also Bruce’s smile in that panel about scaring Young El … that’s amusing to you? Scaring high school kids that you’re supposed to help? That’s how you want Batman to be “useful”? High school children being exploited by gangs are the people that are supposed to be afraid of the Batman? Oh that’s not… anyway.

In the panel before that one, THEY'RE STILL pointing guns at Young El and the gang, despite the fact that if they are being detained they have already been frisked and had their weapons taken away already.

Sure you can argue that this is less a Batman problem and more reflection of how this actually happens in real life, but idk if I’m writing a story where a deliberate point is made that my protagonists don’t use lethal force … but then they disappear on top of a building and watch as these children and adult gang members are submitting under the threat of lethal force, despite having no weapons no drugs and no way of escape …. you see the problem here?

Hate this mini-arc sooooooo bad. even tho I do think about it a lot when thinking about Tim's relationship with school violence. it's a watershed moment for him and so important to his development, but it's also racist as fuck.

I SAY ALL OF THIS TO SAY. There's a lot of this bullshit that basked into comics, hell, into Batman's very conception that makes it easy to fly over people's heads. I'm sympathetic to it, I first read Robin when I was 15. A LOT of shit was flying over my head. But I do encourage you all to approach these stories with a more critical eye, as they can and do help deepen your understanding of these characters.

And let’s be honest— modern ideas of crime are intrinsically tied to American racial ideologies (the modern American inception of cops is deliberately based on slave catchers). Without considering that nuance, Batman (and definitely Red Hood) can very quickly become another layer of fear and control rather than people who are truly trying to help these neighborhoods thrive.

I know we tend to roll our eyes at "Batman beats up poor people and mentally ill!!!" takes cuz most of the time they're ridiculous and said by people who do not interact with canon but like ... the idea that one person's savior is another person's boogieman is very true, and NOT ALWAYS GOOD, especially if we are considering the usefulness of an american Batman, who is not exempt from american racial dynamics, which very obviously exist in his fictional Gotham, even if subtextually through speech, through drawing, through panel sequencing, etc. Batman is a fantasy, but his lasting power as a character is fundamentally dependent on how well of a reflection he is of real life, and THIS would be the real-life makeup of a real-life Gotham City. I spend a lot of this post critiquing, but I still love these characters, and it's because I love them, that these dynamics are so interesting to explore.

Anyway rant over, I probably did a shit job at convincing y'all but if you made it to the end of this long-ass post, YES PLEASE. EVERYBODY, PLEASE READ CANON.

You know what I've realized these past several months on Tumblr and just...years of consuming content?

It's pretty rare for the fandom to acknowledge Gotham as a city. A real, living city with people in it. Like, sure we always get cutesy posts about Batman or the others from outside perspectives or fics that include interesting ocs (I love u if you do that btw).

But what I mean isn't that. What I mean is: does anyone think of Gotham and its citizens as actual people? Because I've sure seen kind of the opposite.

I see constant arguments or heavily biased (mostly misinformed) posts regarding what Bruce does and how the Batman helps the city. That his riches would get lost in corruption and no one can save the city unless there's violence. You could try and make the argument, sure. But we've seen time and time again in comics that Bruce uses his money to the benefit of the city. We've seen in comics that he employs people who are disadvantaged and gives them opportunities. People know Bruce Wayne gives jobs and treats his employees well. He donates heavily to charities, creates his own organizations, funds Leslie Thompkin's clinic, and consistently updates the safety of his own buildings. People (at least post-Crisis) would know that Bruce Wayne did everything he could to save Gotham after the Cataclysm earthquake/No Man's Land - that he went up against Congress. Of course, not everyone would like Batman. Not everyone would trust the Wayne name. They'd see a stranger who prowls nightly and may or may not rescue you. They'd see the privilege of an old rich name who gets to exert his influence over the city. If you go to him for help, you go to him with the fear, and anticipation of rejection or with the knowledge that he will be safe.

I've also seen the (imo) ridiculous notion that Crime Alley citizens would trust the Red Hood. Maybe some would now, after the reboots and actual comic book evidence that he's doing something. But I cannot fathom living in a city with such heavy crimes occurring and then trusting what is essentially a cop. People don't know the Red Hood. They don't know Jason Todd. They would only know: 1. he has tried and succeeded various times to take over organized crime and drug routes 2. he can and will kill if he sees it fit. In some people's eyes, he would be a cop with even less judicial oversight. In some families, he would be the killer of their breadwinner, of their fathers or family members or lovers. A man with a gun. Eyes without a face. If you go to him for help, you go to him for blood.

This doesn't even begin to lay out the insane amount of vigilantes who live/operate in Gotham. The Batman is not the only figure. The Red Hood is not the only figure. If you boil down Gotham to only the conflict between these two characters, you miss the nuances and varied opinions of the city by miles. If you boil down Gotham to just Batman-affiliates, you miss even more.

For every person who doesn't trust Batman, there's someone who'd prefer Huntress. For every child who lives in fear but can't trust an adult, there's Robin or Batgirl. For an abused woman, there's other women out there who help: Catwoman or Black Canary or Holly Robinson. There's people who'd never trust a vigilante but want safety, they'd have Leslie Thompkins (who operates in Crime Alley) or Lucius Fox who could give them a job.

Not to mention, Batman is very obviously white. There would be some people who would rightfully mistrust white men, and would prefer figures like Orpheus or Onyx or Batwing or the Signal or Huntress (post-N52). There's the Creeper, who would be terrifying but some might prefer the monster over the man. There's Ragman, an explicitly Jewish vigilante who was literally called the Tatterdemalion of the Oppressed and trusted by the poor and homeless. There's Batwoman, Mother Panic, Spoiler, Nightwing, Red Robin, Azrael, Bluebird, the enigmatic idea of the Oracle, Anarky, Ghostmaker, Gotham Girl/Boy, Catman, Alan Scott-Green Lantern, Wildcat.

Hell, maybe someone who lives in Gotham would just straight up trust Superman or the Flash or Wonder Woman more than anyone else. Maybe they'd never once trust someone acting for a perceived view of justice and would just trust an employer like Two-Face or the Riddler or any mobster.

I'm stressing my point here: when you write anyone who lives in Gotham City, keep in mind that they don't know they live in a comic book world. Secret identities are foreign to them, they only know the base actions of each vigilante. Each person's opinion will heavily vary. Every experience colors their view of the city and vigilantes as a whole. Just, idk, widen your horizons and consider about what someone living in a place like Gotham would really think.

To that end, read the comics!!! Research actual cities!!! Take in experiences and history!!! It's all interesting and just adds so much more.

You want one comic that shows Bruce helping Gotham and the various views of Gothamites, read Gotham Knights #32, published in 2002 and titled "24/7." Read it online illegally if you have to!!

#deep diving into some comics? :) deep diving into some bitches? :(#gotham #batman #dc

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