#each of your characters and stories are all so different. they are all different “takes” on characters
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instantpansies · 3 days ago
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oh my word THANK YOU!!! i've been trying to say this since the wicked movie repopularized all of the "wicked is canon" stuff, but you've put it in a way i wasn't able to. YES. certainly wicked is allowed to be a derivative work that recontextualizes Oz. assuming that whatever is in wicked retroactively and automatically changes details about the story (ie, that the scarecrow and the tin woodman knew each other before the events of Wonderful Wizard and/or the MGM film) is simply incorrect.
i'm all for incorporating a body of work that may not be fully compatible into a coherent canon that works as an alternative parallel to the original. i think it's completely fine and understandable that people are hooked on wicked and will want to understand some characters through the lens of wicked. but assuming that wicked's popularity makes it truly canon, or assuming that the history it presents is accurate to Baum's Oz, is ignorant to both the original context of the Baum books and the long history of Oz adaptation.
i'm also a bit of a hater, as i personally believe that understanding Wonderful Wizard characters through a lens of wicked, especially the musical but also the book, is a less interesting way of analyzing the text and symbolism present in that story than either the Baum novel or the MGM film presents as each stands alone.
wicked is, certainly, its own thing. of course it exists in the context of over a hundred years of adaptation before it, but that context is simply not known by most people. it must be able to stand on its own, and i believe it does. but when this retroactive wicked lens is applied to that context and history uncritically, we will run into problems.
i almost want to blame the seemingly recent, but really just more visible shift in fandom to a need for everything to be canon and confirmed? like, it can be difficult to reconcile in our minds that so many different versions of oz are allowed to exist and don't have to be compatible. wicked "confirms" things viewers are left wondering about after the mgm film, so therefore it must be canon, and therefore it's appropriate to correct people on facts they "get wrong" when they contradict wicked canon. that's how the thinking seems to work, at least in my observation. and that way of thinking seeps its way into the secondary or deeper oz fandom, which has led to (in my view) a sort of soft shift from Baum-centric understanding of oz as a whole to a binary star system where Baum and Maguire are seen as co-creators of a more true or real world and story. i'm exaggerating, certainly, but i've seen this shift occur over time. i hesitate to bring this up bc it sounds like i'm whining about the fandom's natural changes and how things aren't the way they used to be, and i guess i am. i digress.
anyways, your original point. yes!!! while oz became baum's most profitable endeavor, and throughout the series you can see him sort of wishing his other books were more profitable so he could expand in different directions, that doesn't mean he didn't care about continuity or cohesion at all. i'd argue he cared more about cohesion and telling a story that made sense and continued to make sense as it was expanded, than he cared about maintaining particular canon details through the whole series. oz changed as baum's tastes, needs, and audience changed, and that is just as important as the changes that would be added by adaptation later on. (hell, many oz fans don't think of the 1902 musical or the silent films as canon, despite them being created by Baum, both because they're less well-known and because they do change things up to better fit their respective media and contexts). this sense of inconsistency, whether overblown or minimized, doesn't mean that wicked is canon compliant with the baum novels. wicked directly contradicts baum's work in some cases--which again, is completely fine. it's a derivative work that takes certain aspects of the original books and the mgm film, synthesizes them in a grimdark expansion on especially the political aspects of the world, and seeks to tell a unique story that allows you to think about Wonderful Wizard and MGM in a different way. but it is not itself an explanation for Baum's supposedly undercooked or unfinished world. it is not itself a part of the original story (i mean this in the context of canonicity of baum's work. oz fans know how complicated oz canon is.) but instead is--as it claims to be--another branch on the complex tree of oz adaptations.
tldr. wicked does not "explain" anyone's actions in Wonderful Wizard or MGM. it seeks to provide an alternative context, or an alternative explanation, certainly. but it does not retroactively "fix" the story. it's perfectly fine to think about the original story or the mgm film in the context of wicked, if you like the alternative history it provides. policing others' adaptations and understandings of the story, or implying or directly stating that wicked should be incorporated into others' headcanons or interpretations or adaptations, or claiming that wicked is canon simply because baum didn't care about canon so everything is canon, is not helpful or productive or good. in fact, that actively makes oz analysis less fun, in my opinion. i hope my point is made here i've been trying to say this for months but as usual i was completely unable to get my thoughts across until acted on by an outside force (seeing this post). so thanks!!
I've seen a lot of people lately harping about how "Wicked isn't canon to the Oz universe", "it's just glorified fanfiction", etc., and I can't express how silly that is, and how annoyed it makes me every time I hear it, lol. Baum's original Oz books were never meant to be some canonical series — they contradict each other constantly; Baum called it a "fairy story" with loose cohesion at best; and it only became a series at all because the first one got popular enough that Baum felt a duty to the fandom to keep making more (even after he had wanted to end it). And the 1939 film is every bit as much "fanfiction" as Wicked — it changes the story in both major and minor ways, including a complete shift of framing (i.e., making Oz into a dream rather than a real place).
Maguire's great contribution to the overarching legacy and lore of Oz was to harmonize the very weak "canon" of the older works with a different shift in framing: recontextualizing all of the prior Oz material as a revisionist history (going off of Baum's own idea framing of himself as a "Royal Historian of Oz"), and attempting to tell "the true story" behind the other works (fictively of course — we're never meant to literally think Maguire's version preceded Baum's, irl). In literary studies, this is called an urtext. The Wicked Years and its adaptations are as much "fanfiction" as the 1939 film: it's just self-aware of that fact in a way that earlier works weren't, and uses that perspective to deconstruct the material and explore deeper (and darker) themes — not simply adapting or reimagining the original text (as the 1939 movie did), but actively challenging it; interrogating it. It's not meant to be "canon" as such: it asks you to ask whether (and why) there is such a thing, and what that might say about the stories that we are meant to literally believe in, in real life.
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munson-blurbs · 2 days ago
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Hi bug! I’m asking in anon bc it’s a bit of a sensitive subject for me to discuss but could you possibly write something about Eddie and reader being close(hopefully turning into lovers) and he sees her self harm scars for the first time and she is really embarrassed and tries to just stop speaking to him but he finally catches her alone and it turns into soft smut? I feel like your writing would do a story like this justice, but if it’s a heavy subject and you don’t want to write about it I understand ❤️
Hi! I kept the premise but changed a few details. I hope that's okay.
Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), fingering, unprotected p in v, mentions of self-harm (cutting) but no descriptions of blood or the act itself, parental conflict, Reader celebrates Christmas, angst to fluffy smut WC: 2.5k A/N: This fic is not meant to romanticize or promote self-harm of any kind. This is a comfort fic where the reader-insert character has a history of self-harm. That being said, if this subject matter is triggering for you, please keep scrolling. Sending all of you love, always.
Divider credit to @strangergraphics
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“Okay, first we need two and a half cups of flour.”
Eddie wrinkled his nose when you handed him the measuring cup and a butter knife. 
“So you can scrape off the excess,” you explained. 
Your boyfriend scoffed and plunked the knife onto the countertop. “Have you ever heard of guesstimating, Sweetheart?”
“There’s no guesstimating in baking, Eds.” You dragged the bag of all-purpose flour away from him before he could ruin the recipe. “Everything has to be precise.”
He rolled his eyes. “Yes, dear,” he grumbled. But there was no missing the smile playing on his lips. 
Spending time with Eddie wasn’t new; you’d known each other since he’d moved to Hawkins as a kid. The friendship had survived the ups and downs of junior high and high school, not to mention the years you were away at college. 
What was new was the romantic relationship that had only developed six months ago. Now, Eddie was your boyfriend. Your regular movie nights ended in heated make-out sessions rather than nervous hugs goodbye. Eddie held your hand while you walked rather than playing air guitar. And your sleepovers often involve much less clothing than before. 
It was different, but it was nice. 
“Can you hand me the cream of tartar?” You asked him, holding out your palm. 
“The what?” Eddie’s eyes widened. “Isn’t that the stuff you dip fish sticks in?”
You snorted. “No, that’s tartar sauce. Cream of tartar is a spice that will give the snickerdoodles a little tang.”
Strong, tattooed arms wrapped around you and pulled you toward him, his lips finding the crook of your neck in an instant, sending a shiver of pleasure down your spine. 
“How about I give you a little tang?” Eddie’s words vibrated against your skin. 
It took all of your willpower to focus on the task at hand and not give in. “I’m about to ban you from my kitchen.” You pinched some flour between your fingers and flicked it at him. It dusted his chin and the U-neck collar of his Metallica t-shirt. 
Eddie gasped in mock-offense, reaching over and taking a handful of flour. Before you could protest, he opened his fist just above your head. The powder plopped onto your scalp and cascaded down your cheeks. 
“Gotta go!” He bolted from the kitchen, nearly flinging himself up and over the counter. 
You were fast on his trail, knocking over the yellow-and-white box of granulated sugar. It toppled off of the counter and landed on its side with a thud, leaving a crystalline trail in its wake. 
“Dammit.” With an exasperated sigh, you rolled up your sleeves and cupped your hand, brushing the spilled sugar into your other palm. 
It was suddenly too quiet—and not the kind of quiet that preceded a prank. The only sound came from the thunk of the trash can lid as you dumped the wasted sugar into the bag.
Eddie froze, his widening eyes the sole movement across his lithe body. 
“Sweetheart…are those…?” 
You follow his gaze to the thin lines along your wrist. Most had faded over time and were ones he had seen before, but there were a few new scars that you’d forgotten about.
“You’re…you’re still doing…that?” Eddie’s voice was laced with palpable nervousness, but there wasn’t an ounce of disgust. It might have been easier if there was; you were disgusted that you’d relapsed into self-harm, even if it was just once. 
No, this was genuine concern and love. 
“I…” You struggled to find the words, feeling like the teenager you were when you’d first cut yourself. Now you’re an adult–an adult who’s supposed to have better, healthier coping mechanisms–yet after a conversation with your mother led to an argument, you’d turned back to old habits.
Eddie took your hands in his. The slight tremble broke your heart into a million pieces and filled each crack with shame.
His thumb grazed over the new marks, careful not to reopen the wound. “When did you do this? W-Why did you…?”
“I don’t know.” 
A flicker of frustration sparked in his deep brown eyes at your lie, a silent plea for your honesty.
And so you shoved that shame aside, your body caving into his as you told him everything, starting with the phone call from your mother. 
You’d tried to explain that you were splitting Christmas between their place and Wayne’s, and since Eddie’s uncle worked the night shift, you’d go over to his trailer in the morning and your parents’ house in the evening. 
A solid compromise as you navigated the balance of your relationship with Eddie. 
Or so you thought. 
Because the moment you laid out your plans, Mom was blubbering about the family tradition of opening presents on Christmas morning and how it won’t be the same and why is Wayne working on Christmas, anyway?
You didn’t have the energy to break down the older man’s finances—not that it was her business—but it didn’t matter. Mom already began tossing around terms like ungrateful and disrespectful. 
Suddenly, you were no longer an adult in an apartment of your own. You were a teenager trapped under your parents’ roof with nowhere to go, no way to escape the chaos. 
You couldn’t stop apologizing—to your mom then, and to Eddie now. Tears streamed down your cheeks, drawing hot rivulets over your skin. 
But with Eddie, there was no disgruntled huff and abrupt end to the conversation. He grabbed a tissue, wiping at your eyes and beneath your nose.
“You could’ve called me,” he said. “I would’ve been over in a heartbeat. You didn’t need to do this.”
You shook your head. This was beyond him, and he knew it, too. 
You didn’t realize that your eyes had glazed over, that your rumination had taken hold and kept you locked inside your brain, until Eddie spoke again. 
“Look at me.” 
You blinked, allowing yourself to re-enter the space. When the haze of anxiety began to clear, you felt his touch before you saw his face. His hand was noticeably warm and sweat-slicked, forefinger tucked up under your chin as he lifted it. Whatever stray tears remained on your face trickled down, sneaking into the crevices of his rings.
“Please don’t hurt yourself anymore.” The tip of his tongue swiped over his lower lip. With utmost tenderness, he leaned his forehead against yours. His exhale tickled your own nose. “Please just tell me when you’re sad or mad or…or anything.”
And then you were fourteen once again, confessing to Eddie the real reason why you only wore long-sleeved shirts while he stood there helplessly, nearly dropping the can of Chef Boyardee in the middle of Wayne’s kitchen. Though you were a decade older now, Eddie’s face fell the same way it had in 1980. Confusion and defeat warred for prominence, his brows knit together and his shoulders slumped. 
“You can’t fix me,” you said finally. 
“I know. Because you’re not broken.” Eddie’s hands fell to your wrists, gingerly clutching them. “A little battered, but not broken.”
He meant it, though you didn’t know how. Besides the physical scars on your wrists, you carried a world of pain on your shoulders. You were buried in the weight of inferiority and the inability to measure up to expectations. 
Eddie sensed your hesitation to believe him. “I love you,” he said softly. “I loved you when we were seven and you gave me a Band-Aid after I fell off of my bike. I loved you when we were thirteen and you used the peanut butter from your sandwich to get Tommy Hagan’s gum out of my hair. 
“I loved you when we were eighteen and you went off to college, but you still called me every Thursday night. I loved you when we were twenty-four and I finally asked you out, and you kissed me before I could finish my sentence.” He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling through his t-shirt. “And I’ll never stop loving you. So, please…please don’t hurt yourself again.”
You nodded, hoping it was a promise you could keep. Hoping that this was just a slip-up and not the beginning of a full-blown relapse. 
Exhaustion fell over you as your tears slowed. “I should probably clean myself off.” You shook your head for emphasis, some of the remaining flour clouding as it fell. 
“Let me help.”
Eddie followed behind you, just watching as you picked out the residue over the bathroom sink. The yellow-tinged vanity lighting emphasized the worry that he wore like a mask. 
You turned to him. “I’m okay,” you said with a timid smile. “It was just a one-time thing. I swear.”
His tone was firm when he spoke. “But if it isn’t—if you want to do it again or think about doing it again—you need to tell me.” He pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. “I won’t run away. I’m right here.”
You melted into him, flour-coated scalp be damned, and wrapped your arms around him. “I promise.”
“Good.” A small relief, but relief nonetheless. 
Your fingers tangled in the soft cotton of his t-shirt. “It’s like my brain gets too loud, and I can’t shut it off sometimes.” You swallowed, not able to look at him yet. “But sometimes it helps when I…when I think about you. About how safe I feel with you.”
He brushed flour from your shirt collar. You could tell that he wanted to say something despite the ensuing quiet. Yet he just shoved his hands into his pockets and walked back out to the kitchen wordlessly. 
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It wasn’t until that evening, laying in bed with one tattooed arm wrapped around your waist, that Eddie posed the question that had been sitting on his lips since the afternoon. 
“You feel safe with me?”
You rolled over to face him. “Of course. You’re, like, my safe place.”
Eddie held you tighter. “You’re my safe place, too.” He pressed a soft kiss to your nose. “And maybe I’m a little selfish because of it, but I really need you around. Okay?”
Even in the darkness, you could see his eyes shining with worry and fear. That he would wake up without you. That you’d be gone when he least expected it. 
“I never meant to scare you,” you promised, your voice a whisper even though it was only the two of you. “I wasn’t…”
I wasn’t thinking about you, you almost said. Not that you didn’t care about him—your mind was too occupied with Mom’s stinging words to think of anything else. Of anyone else—including Eddie. 
His reassurance came swiftly. “I know,” he said. “And I want you to know that you deserve to be happy. You deserve not to worry about anyone else’s bullshit. Even your mom’s.”
Eddie took your hand, lifted one scarred wrist to his lips, and kissed it. There was a slight sting from the newer cut, but it disappeared as quickly as it presented. 
“You deserve to be happy,” he continued, kissing another scar. “You deserve to live a life where you know that no one is worth hurting yourself over.”
You brought your arm back to your side and shifted even closer to him. Your nose bumped his when you leaned in to kiss him, eliciting a giggle from both you and Eddie. 
“Sorry—” You started to apologize, but his hands flew to your cheeks as he kissed you harder. His tongue flicked over the seam of your lips, asking for entry that you granted without a second thought. 
“God, I fuckin’ love your laugh.” Eddie shook a rogue curl from his eyes. Instinctively, his leg slotted between yours. It was only when you ground your core against his flannel-clad thigh that he realized what he’d done. 
He moved back an inch, though that one leg stayed in place. “Baby, we don’t—I know today’s been a lot. I’m fine kissing you, y’know?”
“I know.”
“You don’t have to do anything for me. I’m a big boy; I can jerk off in the bathroom if you’re not in the mood—”
You were tired, but an invisible thread inside you had been tugged, awakening an ache that only Eddie could quell. 
“I know,” you repeated. “I want this, too. I…I need it, Eddie.”
His teeth grazed your neck. “What do you need?” He growled, a primal edge in his tone. 
“I need you to show me I’m safe.” 
With those words, you let go of the control you clutched like a precious stone. The relief would be temporary—everything in this world was—but you felt the burden ease with each article of your clothing that Eddie removed. You could have floated, your body weightless, when he kissed each millimeter of your skin. Even the parts you preferred to keep hidden. 
His middle finger was what anchored you to reality. It found your clit, rubbing circles on it while his other hand gripped your hip. 
Slowly, torturously, his finger inched inside you, drawing a shuddering breath from your lips. 
“S’good?” He looked down at you, waiting for confirmation. “Do you need more?”
More. More sounded perfect, and you told him so. 
There’s no teasing tonight. Eddie didn’t make you beg before he slipped his ring finger inside you, curling both fingers to stroke that sweet spot. 
Your back arched, taking him in deeper. He obliged, murmuring your name and sweet praises as he touched you. 
“There you go.”
“So good for me.”
“That’s it.”
“You’re gorgeous like this.”
Wetness slickened his fingers and dripped down onto the bedsheet. He let go of your hip for a second to palm himself over his pajama pants, stopping only when you reach for him. 
“Eds.” You tried not to pout when he paused his ministrations. “Y-You can…”
With a quick nod, Eddie shucked off his clothes and tossed them to the carpeted floor. They landed with a plop, a noise drowned out by his moan when he pressed his erection against you. 
Safe. With Eddie, you were safe. 
Your breath hitched as he entered you; it was a fullness that felt so natural yet like each time was the first. 
Eddie groaned as your fingers dug into his back, reveling in the mutual desire. He braced his forearms on either side of you, caging in your head.
“Eyes on me,” he ordered. “There’s nothing else. Just us, okay?”
“‘Kay.” There was no time to say anything else; he leaned down and kissed you, moaning into it with unbridled need. 
If the alarm clock on your nightstand wasn’t counting the minutes, you would have sworn that time was suspended. Each thrust, each kiss, each murmur of your name was a second and a day. 
Eddie’s lips brushed your ear. He whispered, “you’re so beautiful,” sending an arrow of need straight to your core. “My sweet, beautiful girl.”
“Yours,” you agreed in a whimper. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him in further, as pleasure washed over you. It claimed him a moment later, his face buried in your neck. 
When the sun rises, your scars will once again be visible. And the lingering sadness and frustration won’t have completely dissipated. 
But you’ll handle it. With Eddie by your side, you’ll power through until getting through each day is no longer a chore. 
You’re safe. 
--
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danisdistant · 2 days ago
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how christmas would be with hsr characters! ft. sunday, aventurine, argenti
»» ──────ஓ๑ ★ ๑ஓ ────── ««
[intro blog] | [currently reworking taglist!] | [masterlist]
sunday - quality time
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you’d be spending the entire christmas day with sunday, possibly including the entire day before christmas too. while he enjoys your company with the entire express crew as they group up to celebrate another year, he also wishes to spend some quality time just with you.
this can range from telling stories over some coffee or tea, or going to different worlds for the holidays, or even caroling christmas music. really, he just wants to be with you for the holidays.
speaking of caroling, sunday would be humming christmas tunes all the time. he loves the holidays not only because he can spend time with you, but also because the holidays always gives him fond memories of when he was back in penacony. even when his situation changed, he wouldn’t take time back if it meant he wouldn’t have met you.
you really wouldn’t have to get him anything for christmas, besides your time. however if you do manage to buy or make him something you think he’d like, he would absolutely cherish it for as long as it exists.
trinkets? they’ll be up on his shelf. clothes of jewelry? he’d wear them wherever it’s most visible. food? he’d gobble it all up. he’s not necessarily picky, instead he’s happy you care about him.
aventurine - wishlist buyer
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this man would be so smug about what he’s getting you over the holidays. anything that has been saved on your wishlist online or on paper would appear nicely wrapped right in front of your doorstep.
it doesn’t matter how expensive the item was on your wishlist either, or if aventurine could even afford it or not. some way or another, he’ll get it for you.
meanwhile, if you don’t have anything on your wishlist, he’ll still find a way to buy you a bunch of gifts that he thinks you might like based on your tastes.
he doesn’t usually celebrate the holidays as he could be doing more productive activities, yet he’s beginning to enjoy it more watching your expression as he buries you with gifts. he just loves spoiling you, but the holidays provide an excuse to do so even more.
as for returning gives, he expects at least a ‘thank you’ and lots of kisses and affection from you. after all, doesn’t he deserve it after working oh so hard gambling his money to make enough to get you what you want?
argenti - sentimental gifts
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argenti is the kind of guy that loves homemade gifts. he believes it conveys how close your relationship is with each other, being able to gift someone something that’s special to just the two of you.
which is why for this christmas, he wanted to give you something that would remind you of him even if he was away. this could be anything ranging from a photo album containing all his favorite pictures of each other and your adventures together. or perhaps gifts from the world when you two first met.
his favorite gifts to you would have to be romantic letters, paired with whatever reminds him of you. he has an interesting way with words, but he uses that to his advantage when describing your beauty to him.
argenti doesn’t typically celebrate the holidays if he’s out on an adventure, but if he has time he would love to spend it with you on a festive world, giving you a gift mentioned above. after all, he believes all the festivities and celebrations are beautiful.
he’s just like sunday when you’re giving him a gift. he would accept and appreciate almost anything that you give him, because it would be a piece of you he could appreciate whenever he’s apart from you.
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kingofbodyrolls · 22 hours ago
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Bangtan Christmas ‘24 | Masterlist
Merry Christmas & Happy Holidays! ❄️🎄
As the twinkling lights of the season surround us, I hope you’ve found some warmth and joy in the fics shared over these past 24 days. Whether you’ve devoured them all or haven’t had the chance to dive in yet, don’t worry—I’ve saved the best for last. This special rec list is my gift to you, filled with winter and Christmas-themed stories that bring me endless joy every year 🥰 It contains the fics I’ve reblogged all throughout December, BUT—also many stories that I sadly didn’t have the time to read, but was on my Christmas to read list. Sometimes life just hits you… and I really wanted to include them to make the most spectacular rec list ✨
I know some of these gems have made appearances on my blog before, but their brilliance never fades—like the soft glow of a winter snowfall, they’re just as magical every time. These stories are so breathtaking, I could shout about them until my voice becomes a whisper in the frosty air. So, please, from the bottom of my heart, take a moment to show these incredible authors some love 🎁 They’ve poured their time and creativity into crafting these beautiful tales for us, and it’s truly a gift we’re lucky to receive.
A kind comment, a heartfelt message, even a simple like or reblog—it all makes a difference. You never know how much warmth a few words can bring to a writer’s heart, especially during the cold days of winter. And even if some of them are on hiatus and don’t respond, know that your appreciation is felt.
Before we dive into this treasure trove of stories, I want to take a moment to say an enormous thank you to all the writers out there. Your words weave wonders, creating characters and worlds that have made me smile, cry, and above all, feel deeply. If your story is on this list, know that I’ve read it more times than I can count—it’s that extraordinary. So, thank you for crafting such brilliant art with your writing. You are a gift to this community, and we’re all better for it 💜
Now, let’s cozy up and explore these winter wonders together ❄️✨
Because these rec lists are so long, I’ve decided to separate them into each member (I really hope you don’t mind!).
Namjoon
Seokjin
Yoongi
Hoseok
Jimin
Taehyung
Jungkook
Please show all of the guys’ list some love, okay? 🥹
I truly hope you find joy in diving into all these wonderful stories! 🥰 Thank you from the bottom of my heart for taking the time to explore this rec list. I couldn’t resist creating another one—I’ve missed it dearly. I know some of you enjoyed the monthly rec lists, so I hope this little collection brings a spark of joy to your holiday season.
If this list has brought a smile to your face, I kindly ask that you consider reblogging it. The more it’s shared, the more people can discover these incredible stories, and together, we can spread even more holiday cheer to the talented writers who make this season a little more magical with their words ❄️✨
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Hello, lovely people! I’m Lissa, both a reader and a writer at heart. Though I don’t write much fanfiction these days, my love for reading and recommending fics burns as bright as ever. If you’re looking for more Bangtan fanfics to cozy up with, you’re more than welcome to follow me, or simply explore my rec library. There’s always something special waiting for you.
With all my love, and borahae always 💜
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dammit-tazmuir · 3 days ago
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@grievingbovine I am always happy to gush about Paul ;w;
Also I feel like... I'm not sure if it's more "codependency isn't always bad" or "codependency is a term we've grown to use too liberally when what should actually be the defining factor isn't the behaviors involved but whether or not those are actually hurting the people involved" or something in between or adjacent to that. It also feels like there might be kinda two definitions people use interchangeably? One being the more medical term and the other a looser thing of like, deeply dependent on each other.
But semantics aside I know what you mean, and yeah.
It is, generally speaking, unhealthy to be SO dependent on a SPECIFIC person that you can't live without them. Cam and Pal post-explosion had a very unique situation, whereas for most cases in real life, it's better to at least like... need SOMEONE, a purpose, a cause, but also be capable of seeking a new one if you lose that, after time to process and grief. A Camilla whose whole life revolved around Palamedes but didn't get him back learning to live again for Nona, as a hypothetical, or Harrow who would not let herself survive alone but can live for God and for Gideon and for Alecto and for the memory of those lost to conceive her and who may find other purposes still. Ofc no one is arguing Harrow is healthy about that, but like, if you CAN'T find an internal sense of worth, a purely external one is still infinitely better and healthier than none!
It feels very silly but a straight up life-changing thing for me as someone who does the same shit was the anime Gurren Lagann throwing around the phrase, "believe in the me who believes in you." Over time it morphed into "believe in the you that I believe in", and ultimately into having genuinely self-assurance, but taking even one or two of those steps is like... YEAH? Yeah! You know? External validation can be so meaningful and powerful, and isn't antithetical to internal by any means. If you can find it in even a handful of different sources, even better. A thing I try to tell people a lot when it comes to mental health too is you don't have to Get Better to get BETTER. It's not "you're unhealthy and must be fixed" or "you're 100% healthy in all ways". Less unhealthy and more functional than you were is amazing and to be celebrated actually!!!
But at the same time?
Ya know, no, I agree, I DON'T think it's a bad thing to need to NOT be ALONE. I understand the importance of being capable of surviving alone, at least long enough to seek new connections. And living for a person or cause is always easier than dying for them ("you could have lived for her, but you didn't know how"...), especially if you're living for their memory after they're gone, but people should try to do it anyway! But to just..... want to be devoted to someone? To thrive on supporting or caring for other people???
That's not what I'd call "toxic codependency", that's humans being a social species. Hell, that's looking at stories and seeing how many supporting characters are vital to helping a hero succeed and deciding "that sounds awesome actually! Not everyone needs to be the hero, I would love to be a supporting character!" Especially when you're not losing sight of your own needs in the process.
Like... Sacrifice and martyr mentality can be horrible destructive things that do more harm than good, but sacrifice is also objectively a major way people show love. Parents doing without a little more to make sure their kids get something nice, someone doing a chore they don't like because they know their partner hates it more, etc. The difference between "my needs aren't important, I'm not important, I'll always prioritize others because I don't take care of myself in general" and "I have weighed the pros and cons and decided that I can handle this and wish to put someone else first in this situation" is not always apparent from the outside but it's an extremely important distinction. There's a difference between being needlessly reckless and hard on yourself versus making a decision to achieve an end you want even though it costs you something.
Cam trying to hide how rough carrying Pal was on her wasn't her being needlessly reckless, it was her being a stubborn bitch who knows she's tough as hell. If anything people have more grounds to criticize her going against Pal's interests and wishes by not giving him information he needed to make properly informed decisions! To think that he was in any way taking advantage of her when she'd have found a way to kick his ass if he'd tried to force her to stop is wild lmao. (Not to mention Pal literally killing himself— he was still Around but objectively dead all the same!— in the "dying for someone is the cruelest thing you could do to them" book. Like he ain't making big sacrifices fueled by his love for and trust in her too smh.)
And honestly? Yeah that does sound like the kind of thing that could save the world. Our world would be a better place with less people striving to be main characters and more people eager to support each other. More people should be saying "No you will let me help you, you son of a bitch. Don't you dare tell me it's Too Much." >:( So many people are afraid of Being A Burden but more people need to understand— from the perspective of the person with that fear and as friends wishing to help someone who has that fear— that only the person offering help can decide what is A Burden to them! It's not the other person's decision to make!
Palamades didn't have a right to tell Camilla not to push herself to keep him around when that was her choice, and anyone fearing their loved ones sacrifice too much for them don't have a right to tell them to love them less, either. Sometimes— often, really— the alternative is worse. And part of me has to wonder if some people are averse to acknowledging that because if they did, then they'd have to acknowledge that letting someone else help you can be actively beneficial to them, and constantly refusing to ask for or accept help is in turn actively depriving them of something that would help them too. <.< Too bad everyone, gotta let people love you.
Locked tomb hot takes:
Insisting that the birth of Paul is only a tragedy because of the uneven power dynamics between Palamedes and Camilla as Necro and Cav invalidates Camillas autonomy and undermines her as a character capable of making her own decisions. It also undermines Palamedes constantly checking for consent. He understands more than most that there is an uneven power dynamic and actively works to respect her autonomy as much as he can while also respecting their bond/positions as necro and cav.
In a world where those who identify as men have no natural power over those who identify as women or neither, we can not apply the same cisheteronormative expectations of male behavior to male characters.
Camilla made every. Single. Choice. Willingly. She had reasons for it, and Palamedes respected that more than readers seem to. We get plenty of examples.
"What would you do if you discovered Camilla was a murderer?”
“Help her bury the body,” said Palamedes promptly.
“Sextus.”
“I mean it. If Camilla wants someone dead,” he said, “then far be it from me to stand in her way. All I can do at that point is watch the bloodshed and look for a mop. One flesh, one end, and all that.”
GtN chapter 30
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NtN chapter 17
The relationship between these two may be codependent, but it's predicated on trust and consent. The whole way through. This is the life Cam wants to live. Becoming Paul was what *she wanted*.
I find it strange that some people think they know what's best for her more than she does, just because she's a cavalier.
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distractedvoid · 2 days ago
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remember those sonamy for sonic 4 ideas? here they are i couldnt wait
So, now that Amy is definitely confirmed, based on the after credits scene in Sonic 3, I have some silly thoughts about how Sonic and Amy's relationship could unfold in Sonic 4.
So, first, I think their general dynamic would definitely change. In pretty much every other form of Sonic media, while it has changed a bit recently, Amy is shown as constantly chasing after Sonic despite him avoiding most of her advances anyway.
Now, movie Sonic is definitely not as mature as the Sonics in other medias. A huge part of his continuous character arc is that he's still a kid, a kid that doesn't really know what he's doing.
And here, we have Amy, which, from the very small amount of her character that we've seen, at least seems like less of a damsel in distress. (It reminds me of how they changed Princess Peach's character in the Mario Movie.) In contrast to the story of Sonic CD, we see Amy saving Sonic from the many copies of Metal Sonic.
Now how exactly does this make their dynamic different? Well, if you take an immature Sonic, and put him in the same room as an Amy that needs less saving than the usual, the firsthand difference is undeniable. Thus why I think their dynamic would be reversed in a way, at least, that's what I want to happen.
I have a feeling Sonic would be "chasing" after Amy, but more so in the way that he's constantly trying to impress her. He'd probably get into some unsavory situations due to his most likely failed attempts at this, prompting Amy to have to make sure he doesn't keep doing stupid things.
Amy herself wouldn't understand why Sonic kept getting himself into trouble like that, much less that he did it for her, until she sought out some third-party information.
Speaking of (I never really mentioned anything related but just go with it), I haven't talked much about Amy's own feelings yet.
So we know about a possible tiny fraction of her character, and while that's not a lot to go off of, I don't see any harm in forming early ideas based off it.
When Amy, presumably, met Sonic by saving him from the Metal Sonic copies, I don't think she would really think too much of him at first. As soon as he actually started talking, though, she'd find interest- I wouldn't wanna take away the part of her that probably falls in love way too easily.
Unlike the usual Amy we're probably all used to, she wouldn't show her feelings that much. She'd have the occasional giggle at Sonic's attempts at impressing her, even if she didn't know that was why he did it. For all she knows, that's just what he's usually like! Until she inquires with Tails- she learns that she's somewhat special to the blue blur.
I might just be projecting, with the weird way my own feelings work, but I think Amy's little crush on Sonic would skyrocket at that information. Sonic, the guy she only really had a small crush on, was trying that hard to win her over? Admittedly, that was pretty cute in her eyes.
After that Amy would definitely be more forward with Sonic, causing the latter to be a little confused and wonder if a certain two-tailed fox said anything...Guess you can't even trust your best friend with secret crushes anymore, sigh.
If they ended up together, if we were to ever get so lucky, I don't think either would really change how they act around each other, other than holding hands occasionally and maybe a few kisses here and there. Sonic is still adventure focused, though how much he likes Amy is sometimes painfully obvious. He'd gain a little confidence boost if they became official, but overall, if they went on any dates, they'd be dates to kick Eggman's ass for the thousandth time.
That's all I have for now, I'm gonna let the brain worms rest LOL. Thanks to anyone who actually went and read my yapping session
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seikkoi · 2 days ago
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ᴡɪᴛʜᴇʀ | j.barnes x f!reader
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READ ON AO3
Your words hang in the air like laundry on a rainy day–pointless and unchanging in purpose. The empty space dares him to say something back, but the more time passes, the less sure he seems. His mouth opens and closes, jaw tense and fighting against something inside.
“I can’t be what you need.”
content/warnings: 18+ minors do not interact. post-snap au, secondary character death, implied/referenced abortion, survivor's guilt, grief, ptsd, etc., explicit mentions of alcohol, angst, hurt with absolutely no comfort, no y/n usage word count: 5.1k
“James–” you try to call out, and the syllables die in your throat.
He pauses at the threshold, shoulders slump. 
“I can’t,” he mutters under his breath, more to himself than to you.
The walls thunder when the door slams behind him, leaving a silence empty enough to hear your own pulse. It’s quick, adrenaline still rushing and heat still dancing on your tongue. Even though you feel defeated in your own right. You thought you would have so much more to say, so much more anger to let out. Insults and frustrations you’ve buried over months. But your admission had sliced deep enough, and Bucky was clearly uninterested in staying for round two. 
It wasn’t meant to end like this, you weren’t supposed to tell him like this. You had anxiously prepared for this conversation, waiting for a night he was sober enough to remember you existed. He’d call over and over from midnight to two in the morning, breaking your will with every ring until you answered and save him from whatever hole he was drowning in. Or, he’d show up and plead for you through the door. You obliged him every time, saying it was for your neighbors peace and not your own. But that was a lie, it was for you–each time. 
You couldn’t stand leaving him alone and broken, and he needed that. He needed someone to care. Something solid, safe. You were a journalist–not risking your life everyday and grounded enough to understand why he still did. 
Yeah, he wasn’t the Winter Soldier anymore, but that wasn’t stopping him. He wanted to pay the world back. Do anything to make all the terror worth it. It didn’t matter that the toll could never be paid in full, that the universe never asked for retribution. He didn’t think he deserved to have anything else. 
In the beginning, after HYDRA fell, it gave him purpose. He started to feel normal. Steve pulled him back into the world a year ago when all he wanted to do was hide away. He thought he could, thought he was ready. It felt good to save people instead of harm. To have children reach for him in safety. He listened to Sam and attended the veteran’s meetings. He didn’t need to share for everyone to know who he was–the sight of the brooding, gloved man in the corner with dark eyes told enough on its own. He soaked in the stories of others, taking solace in knowing no one experience was unique. 
He started going out, living. Steve and Sam drag him to the gym a few times a week, which inevitably spirals into the gym and lunch afterwards. On Sam’s birthday, he guilts Bucky and Steve into ‘just one shot’, which, of course, inevitably spirals into several shots and a few beers.
Bucky won’t say it then, but it’s the most normal he’s felt since 1945. He watches Steve make a passionate argument for English beers (to Sam’s dismay), and swears he watched him make the same argument 50 years ago in a bar two boroughs over. 
He had gained the courage to venture the city on his lonesome. It was overwhelming and exhilarating. Streets he thought he knew like the back of his hand had completely transformed, and totems he thought would be long forgotten stood the test of time. 
He winds up back in Brooklyn, strolling the outskirts of his old neighborhood. He didn’t dare pass the frontier, not yet. Still, it felt good to be this close. The streets were different now—sleeker, polished, bustling with a new generation of dreamers—but their roots carried the scent of home. The barbershop he used to frequent is now home to an upscale coffee shop. The old brick facade is now limestone white, and he honestly might prefer it that way. 
He had another few blocks of reminiscing to do, but the door swings open as a young couple emerges in high spirits, carrying a very enticing croissant and a mouth watering smell to match.
He doesn’t catch you on the other side of the glass–looking away from your laptop to catch some leather-bound brood get seduced by a pastry. You chuckle as the choice seems to take him very little time to make, stopping just long enough to watch the couple walk by and catch the door behind them. 
He seems innocent enough despite the heavy coat and deep scowl. You can’t help turning slightly in your barstool to watch him, sticking out from the new age pop music and neon lights. You have to hide in your book when he heads for the empty seat next to you. 
“Did no one ever tell you staring was impolite?” 
You stammered an apology as he laughed and asked what you were reading. After you ramble for a minute too long, he pledges to give it a try and let you know what he thinks. 
“Same time next week?” he smiles, knocking against the counter and leaving as quickly as he entered, treat in hand. 
You didn’t want to take what he said seriously. Obviously, it was polite sarcasm. He didn’t mean it. You weren’t getting dressed and heading back to the cafe the following week because you expected him to be there or anything. No, no. You had an article to finish and that was your spot anyway. If he’s there again, it’s not because of you, it’s because of the croissant, obviously.
But he is there. Not only is he there, he’s got the book you recommended in hand. He waves the spine enthusiastically across the room when you take your place at the counter, and you try not to smile too hard. 
You didn’t think it’d spiral into anything. You hadn’t meant to ask him for his number the next week, it just sort of stumbled out–under the guise of talking about the book, of course. 
Instead, you two talk about anything but that. At first, Bucky’s shy to admit he didn’t quite get some of the references, and you happily spend a half an hour explaining Blade Runner. He begs you not to call him James out of embarrassment, and you do it anyway (eventually, it turns into a well-liked habit). You tell him about the time you tripped crossing the graduation stage, and he laughs as if he was seeing it live. 
For weeks you find yourself glued to your phone well into the early morning hours, swapping high school stories and food criticisms with such ease that you forget your giggling with one of the world’s deadliest assassins. You avoid bringing it up–you were a journalist, you read the papers. You didn’t need him to relive that to you. Especially when you were both too busy falling hard, and fast. Phone calls turn into dinners that turn into him spending the night in your bed. 
Before you know it, you’re spending your Sundays watching him completely fail a pancake flip in your kitchen. There’s warmth in the air, in your ribs. Settled and comforting in a way you never knew you needed. And then he presents his blob shaped creation like a true work of art and you realize you don't want that feeling to go anywhere. 
He brought that into your life, swelling and warm with every terrible pancake flip, soft smile, or kiss to your cheek.
And Bucky was better for it. To know he could love, to be loved in return. It grounded him more than any ghost walks through the old neighborhood ever would. This, what he had with you, it was here now. 
Maybe the fight could truly be over. Maybe he was finally safe. 
And then, Thanos happens.
It is the worst month of your life. You go from slow dancing in the living room, leaning against him and taking in the calm of his heartbeat, to watching the news in horror as Thanos’ army came to Earth. Scotland, New York, Wakanda. Footage of smoke rising in great plumes, painting the skyline with streaks of ash and chaos. Alien ships hover like vultures, dropping black-armored creatures into the streets below. And somewhere in that chaos was Bucky.
Or so you had hoped. Girlfriends weren’t high on the SHIELD update chain, and his location was confidential regardless. So, for 28 days, all you could do was watch the chaos unfold from the other side of the screen. On day twenty-nine, you woke up to find that half the world had vanished without a trace. You call Sam over and over, praying that he was okay, that Bucky was okay. 
No one answers, and for another three days you sit alone in your apartment swallowed whole by grief. Friends, family, the blonde barista at the coffee shop, and the man you barely got to love. 
A knock at the door pulls you from your stupor, eyes raw and cheeks red. And when the door swings open, your world tilts again. 
“Hey, doll.”
He says it so casually, like he’d just step out for an afternoon, not over a month. There’s a cascade of bruises on his face, a pristine bandage wrapped around his arm, but he’s there. Alive. Flesh and Bone.
You don’t think, you leap. Your arms tangle around his shoulders, squeezing until you’re shaking. He grunts softly in surprise, but his arms wrap around you tightly, steadying you like he always does.
You sob before you can even speak, your cries muffled against his chest. His metal hand runs gently along your back.
You hoped–assumed all would return to normal now. The life you were starting didn’t need to be on hold a second longer. The world would take time to heal, sure, but for now you could go back to late night slow dances and burnt Sunday pancakes. 
But then, you hear about Sam.
He didn’t make it.
Neither did countless others Bucky had dared to call family the last few years. You listen in stunned silence as Bucky tells you, the weight of the losses hanging heavy in the air between you. His voice cracks when he mentions Steve, though he doesn’t say much else. You don’t press—what more could you possibly ask?
For a while, both of you stay shadows of yourselves, and you imagined a great deal of others followed suit. Work didn’t go anywhere–being exponentially difficult if anything. Constant reporting of the aftermath, the testimonies. You don’t admit it and you don’t quit, but you start to hate it. You run out of words to describe what happened and no one can make up their minds for quite a while. The editor-in-chief gives you sympathetic nods for every late article, but you know you’re hanging on by a thread.
At night, Bucky holds you a little too tight, and you let him.
You catch him staring out the window in the early morning. Sharp lines draw on his face and you wonder if what you write is nearly half as bad as what he’s seen. It’s the only time you wonder what he’s done, what any of this has truly been like for him.
Truthfully, it’s hell. 
For weeks now he’d pulled countless mangled bodies from rubble, killed heartless scavengers who wouldn’t put the damn gun down, and watched the world he started to love again fall apart. And the rebuilding effort was estimated to take years. He didn’t have years of this in him. 
And who's to say Thanos was done? He had the stone, all the power in the universe to squander them at a moment's notice. Two of the strongest people he knew, gone with a single snap. 
“Why wasn’t it me?” he thinks, staring down an empty glass. 
The compound was eerily empty, with Stark still M.I.A and everyone else busy putting out fires at all corners of the globe. Pepper couldn’t stand the silence and left for her parents’ house in Boston. Bucky doesn’t even know what he’s doing here. He should be out there like everyone else–helping more, looking Tony, or supporting you. But it’s 2 am and he’s stuck, unable to face anyone and unable to cry. 
The fight would never be over. And he would never be able to keep anyone safe.
So he pulls away. Like night and day you go from two ghostly shadows, dancing in charred grief to nuclear reactions, ready to set the other off at a moment's notice. He can't cope and you can hardly move on, but you are moving. You push Bucky to do the same and it never ends well. It’s easier for you, and you know that. You’re constantly reminded of the devastation behind the thin veil of pictures and text. There is no separation for Bucky. Every cry, every hint of death and absence, floods his senses until it’s all his brain can compute.
The world is gone.
In a flash of anger, he throws the bottle against the refrigerator and takes pride in the shatter. F.R.I.D.A.Y is smart enough not to offer assistance. 
Peace was at his fingertips. He felt it. He missed it. Watching Steve and Sam argue about the most trivial topics. Listening to you ramble at 3 am about bad romance novels. Seeing actual joy in strangers on the street. Being in the world when it felt whole again.
Now, he can’t look at you without thinking of loss. The folly of love. Pain would always lurk on the horizon. He could try over and over to rebuild. It didn’t matter and it never would. The universe was a cruel bitch–and nowhere knew through him by the looks of it. Every night he goes to sleep with a heavy ache in his heart. A miasma that sits on his chest and stares at him through his dreams. In the morning, it follows him from place to place. Watching, waiting to swallow him whole.
When Bucky comes to you later that evening reeking of sorrow, you have a look that he can’t place. He thinks you can see it, the dread stalking him. The emptiness. He can’t take it and leaves as soon as he arrives. With each passing day, he pulls away more, and more and more. It’s better to lose you this way. 
It doesn’t stop you from calling and sometimes he answers. Some days he shows up and holds you like nothing ever happened. He loses his grief in the soft corners of your body, and you let him. It helps you too. You find yourself all the same, soaking in his weight against the mattress. It’s hopeful, the way he touches you. Delicate, precise–not in pleasure but in preservation. He breaks you apart until you’re left to just the finest parts. Thinking of nothing but him, wanting nothing but him. Hungry teeth mark the soft flesh at your pulse, the skin on your inner thigh. All to catalogue the noises you make, to feel your nails dig into his shoulders. He does this for his own memory, savouring as much of you as you can before you’re gone for good.  He knows it’s inevitable. 
It’s always been inevitable.
In the morning, it’s lost all over again when he disappears, leaving the scent of mulberry and whiskey behind. 
Carol finds Nebula and Tony in cold space. Battered, starving, and a moment away from slow death. Bucky had a dust of hope left that the genius had one more trick up his sleeve. A month passes while he recovers, then weeks. After a year Pepper and Tony find a quaint cabin up north to forget. Or maybe to start over? Bucky can’t tell and he gets too mad at his absence to care. Tony Stark got to stop being Iron Man and all James wishes for is to stop being Bucky.
The time between his late-night visits as the miasma greedily feeds. The loneliness and old memories stops either of you from saying what needs to be said. It’s harder and harder for him to face you. Each time Bucky leaves you craving what you had before, while still giving you hope it might come back.
He stops coming to the cafe altogether. Stopped calling. The man who once lit up your entire world now burned through whiskey like it was water, each sip drowning him a little further
The day you find out, it’s bittersweet, and you dared to hope again. You picture, even if just for a second, a bright future. Burnt pancakes with an extra plate, soft laughter from the dinner table as you and Bucky waltz around the kitchen–you picture it all in such a sharp flash. A reason for both of you to hope again. It’s vivid and near disorienting. You sit against the bathroom wall staring at the pink double lines. 
Out of instinct and burning joy, you called Bucky, heart racing and a smile creeping onto your face. 
It rings once. Twice. Three Times. And then voicemail. 
And then you remember who Bucky is, or rather who he’s becoming.
And your heart sinks.
For two days you cry and wait. That he’d call back, that this time he had a reason. That the universe wasn’t giving you an enormous final sign. 
Each day blurs into the next  and you’re forced to face the music. The future you pictured, it would never be reality. In reality, things continued to deteriorate. Just as Bucky realized anything could take you away from him, you realized he was already gone. Sure, he survived the snap, but he wasn’t living. He perished just the same. You were left with a man hollow from far more than just grief. And a man who could never be a father. That peaceful future could never exist because this world would never give you peace. 
Children weren’t a part of your life plan. You couldn’t do it on your own and you knew that. You weren’t sure you could do it under any circumstances. But you certainly couldn’t in this world. Not now. 
So you made a choice, alone. You called Bucky again before making the appointment, to no answer. You couldn’t bring yourself to tell a friend, sunken by anger and sadness you can’t. You go alone, drive home alone, and cry alone for two weeks. 
You start to think this time he’s never coming back. Your decision feels justified, righteous, and forty times worse. The bed sheets maintain a perfect shape for you to hide in. Not from Bucky. No, you wish he’d seek you out. At your absolute worst and wanting him the most. Even though you knew you should hate him, cast him aside in your mind. 
But you just can’t. Call it loneliness or stupidity–it didn’t matter. You keep a sliver of hope that he waltzes right back into your life, this time as himself, whole. Unbroken and ready to belt Frank Sinatra down the empty streets as he walks you home. You could loop his arms in his again and lean steady on his weight once more. 
Maybe you got desperate for it. While the weeks stretched into another month, and you had to keep living. People seemed to fill the gaps others left behind. Deadlines came back, along with birthdays, sports tournaments, and holidays. There was always an air of despair to everything, though. Tributes and memorials were constant, and the topic never truly left public discussion. It simply changed from a thing that was happening, to a thing that had happened. 
You met new people, a lot, in fact. A few even ask you out. Each time you turn them down, lying about you weren’t ready for dating yet or that work was too hectic. Truthfully, the thought of being with anyone else felt like an act of betrayal. Logically, after twenty seven days (because yes, you were counting) of missed calls and ignored texts, one might assume any romantic relationship did, or should come to end. But not you, not with Bucky. 
You didn’t want anyone else. But he wasn’t here. 
On day thirty four, a heavy knock wakes you around midnight. You’re half-asleep, shivering in your night-gown and wishing you wore something warmer to bed when you answer. 
Bucky slouches against the door frame, clothes wrinkled and eyes glinting. He looks at you for a second, just long enough for you to see the anguish stalking him, before he crosses into your apartment–taking your face between his palms and kissing you.
You don’t think, only react. You never do on these nights, the nights he bothers to remember you and you’re desperate enough to let him in. You react to the liquor-stained tongue dancing in your mouth, his hands finding your hips and pushing yours against the wall. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, and when his hands paw at the silk of your nightgown, you untie it for him. 
You don’t think as tears flood the back of your eyes, just as desperate as you are for release. It’s love, anger, need, and grief in their most convoluted form–working together and fogging your mind. 
You don’t think when he lifts you around his waist, tongue still searching for peace behind your lips. It’s been long, too long for both of you. Too many nights and days spent praying he’d come back to you. He lays you down on your bed, trailing down your body and leaving you breathless. You can hardly see him in the dark room. A shadow, lighting your nerves on fire without a single word. 
Some shifts. Perhaps it comes from the way he pauses at your hip. Fleeting and haunting. Recoiling as if the bone will break skin to seek him out. Livid that he would dare to take more than he deserves.
You don't think, and misread his hesitation as a chance to take control. Flip the script. Leave him a wanting mess. You don’t want to give yourself any time in reality. You want to pretend this is one of your first times. Before the world bowed under its own weight. Before you Bucky became your curse.  And thinking is antithetical to whatever currently happens between you two in these four walls. 
Your hands graze the lines of his jaw in the dark, finding full hairs where your mind remembers itchy stubble. Too much time has passed. You don’t think, pulling him back towards you and capturing his lips, trying to mimic the hungry passion he showed you at the door. 
He doesn’t show you any return and you would think to stop, but you aren’t there yet. You try harder, until his arms braces your forearm. The cold metal grounds you and forces you to find his eyes in the shadows. 
“This is wrong, I shouldn’t be here.” he whispers, almost like he’s speaking to himself.  You hold his gaze briefly before it darts to the floor. 
Your heart sinks like a stone. Your ribcage wants to tighten around it. 
You tighten your nightgown instead. 
“Don’t,” you plead, but Bucky was already pulling away, fingers curling into fists at his sides. 
“I mean it.” he took another step back, and the stone reaches your stomach. “I can’t keep doing this.”
“Can’t?” you shot up, more sharp and cutting than you thought. “What the hell does that mean, James? You can’t? After everything–” 
He knows you're using his birth name out of anger, but even then he relishes in the way it sounds on your tongue. 
He still doesn’t bear to look at you, shoulders slumping. “I shouldn’t have come here, I should’ve known better.”
The laugh that breaks out of you isn’t a laugh at all. It was something jagged and bitter. You leave your bed to face him, refusing to let him ignore the hurt he’s causing.
“You should’ve known better? Now what, you disappear again and call it noble this time?”
“I’m trying to do what’s best for you! I’m trying to protect you!” he snapped, loud enough to echo. 
“Protect me from what? From you?” you repeat, incredulous. The words taste sour. 
“Yes!” he burst out, voice high and raw. “You don’t need this–you don’t need me.”
Breaths can barely leave your throat. You think this is what people always meant when they said they were ‘seeing red’. You want to ask if he thinks you needed him after losing half of everyone you cared about, too. After eight hours a day writing about tragedies that somehow felt two feet in front of you despite happening thousands of miles away.
“I can’t believe I thought you could ever be a father–that we might have a family.” It’s an admission you mean to keep in your head, but it spills out in a tangled mess with your tears before you can realize what you’re saying. 
Bucky snaps his head up. His jaw clenches, and for a moment, it looks like he’s going to argue. But the weight of your words seems to register. He doesn’t say anything, and the silence is suffocating. You feel the space between you both stretching, threatening to snap. He finally meets your eyes, and the vulnerability there almost breaks you again.
“What are you talking about?” He knows the answer to his own question. But he wants to be wrong. He prays to be wrong.
“I was pregnant and you couldn’t even pick up the phone.” you grit, trying not to yell, cry, or some combination of both. You fail, and your sparse tears turn into full streams. “I didn’t know what to do–I was alone.”
“When were you going to tell me?” His tone is low, in a confused attempt to process, but all you hear is blame. 
“I tried! For weeks! I couldn’t just wait on the sidelines for you to love me again, I couldn’t do this without you and you weren’t here!” 
“You don’t understand,” he mutters, his voice cracking under your anger. 
“Then help me understand!” you plead, stepping closer, your heart pounding against your ribs. “Help me understand why I had to make that choice alone.”
“I’ve lost everything,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “Everything I’ve ever cared about. And I can’t—I won’t—put you in that same category.”
You stare at him, your chest tightening with both frustration and heartache. “So, what, you just decide to give up? Walk away and lose me anyway?” 
“That’s not what this is–I’m not giving up,” he insists, though there's a lack of conviction in his voice. 
“Bullshit, you’re just a coward–you’re giving up because it’s easy and staying here and making things work is harder.”
Bucky froze, his jaw tightening as your words settled between them like a storm cloud. His voice was low, measured, but laced with contempt.
“Don’t give me that crap, There’s nothing easy about letting you go.”
“You don’t get to talk to me about giving up, Bucky. Not when you’re the one walking away. Not again.”
“You think I’m just cutting myself off from everything, throwing my entire life away, throwing you away, leaving every last thing I know and care about behind, because I want the easy life?” He stepped closer, his eyes blazing. 
“It was never that easy for me to do this—with you, with anyone! It was so much easier for me to go on thinking there was something I could do to make a real difference, but I know now—” His voice cracked slightly, and he ran a hand through his hair. 
“I know now there’s nothing I can do. The only path everything leads to is everything being ripped away from me.”
You shook your head, voice sharp. “That’s a lie, and you know it.”
“If I could do something to be at peace,” he continued, his voice still rising, “then I’d do it. I swear to you that I would. But it’s all just... waiting to slip through my fingers, leaving nothing behind.”
“That’s not true!” you snapped, your fists clenching. “You’re the one letting it all slip away, Bucky. Not fate, not some unstoppable force—you.”
“Bullshit!” His words were a snarl now, his hands clenched at his sides as though he didn’t know where else to put the anger. “What do you know? What the hell do you actually know about me, huh?”
Her lips parted, but he didn’t wait for an answer. “Nothing! I’ll tell you what kind of man I really am.” His voice softened, the anger bleeding into something more resigned. “I had nothing when I started, and I’ll have nothing when this nightmare finally ends. And I’m not wasting your life too.”
“You don’t get to decide that for me!” you shouted, stepping forward. “You don’t get to play martyr and act like I’m just collateral damage in whatever war you’re fighting with yourself. I’m here. I’ve always been here.”
“You know I’m right,” he bit out, his voice suddenly colder, quieter. “You knew it when you decided to end it–and I don’t blame you.”
There isn’t any air left in the room.
“I’m an empty shell. There’s nothing inside me at all. I know there isn’t. Guess that’s obvious. Anybody could see that. Before Steve got me, before I met you...” Bucky laughed bitterly, shaking his head.
You don’t know what to say. You don’t know how to fix this. You want to start over.
“Do you have any idea what I did with my life? I hurt people, I terrorized people, that’s what. I’ve never done a single honorable thing.” He looked at you with glossy eyes.
“You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to decide that nothing good has ever come from you, just so you can justify giving up. You don’t get to rewrite everything, Bucky.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, trembling with frustration and hurt.
Your words hang in the air like laundry on a rainy day–pointless and unchanging in any purpose. The empty space dares him to say something back, but the more time passes, the less sure he seems. His mouth opens and closes, jaw tense and fighting against something inside.
“I can’t be what you need.”
It’s soft and final.
Before you can even process it, he turns sharply, heading out your bedroom and to the front door. Each thud of boots feels heavier, more deliberate. 
“James–” you try to call out, and the syllables die in your throat.
He pauses at the threshold, shoulders slump. 
“I can’t,” he mutters under his breath, more to himself than to you.
And then, without another word, the door slams behind him with a force that rattles your bones.
You stand there in the dark, the silence swallowing you whole. The words you want to say, the things you wish you could take back, settle into the pit of your stomach like stones.
But he's gone, turning into a ghost once more. And for the first time in a long while, you know he won’t be coming back to haunt you. 
[ comments & reblogs appreciated ♡ thx for reading ]
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starlightandfairies · 2 days ago
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Okay, first of all, sorry for my bad English, but could you maybe write a story with Kalus where you are all together (his siblings and Elena, Damon, Stefan etc.) in a room and spend time together, or rather solve another problem. Klaus notices how absent you are and how quiet you are the whole time. And later you disappear to a quiet place where you can be alone but then he shows up? The story need to be sweet😪
Description: gets overwhelmed and needs some time to relax
Warnings: she/her pronouns, fluff, swearing
*Requests are open, please send through as many requests as you want, check my character list and requesting rules.*
Thank you for requesting this! I hope you enjoy it!
Key: Y/N = Your Name, L/N = Last name, POV = Point of view, f/ice/c
Word Count: 1,013
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First Person's pov
Everyone was here. Bonnie, Elena, Damon, Enzo, Stefan, Elijah, Rebekah, Caroline and Niklaus. My house was normally the meeting place, today was no different. I couldn't tell you what the issue was this time, I've been out of it for the past week. It's been hard, at the start of the week, I nearly got badly hurt while the next big-bad came along and after Stefan saved my butt, I got reprimanded by him for being so reckless and stupid. 
 I hated being yelled at or being near someone being yelled at. Ever since I was little, I've hated loud noises, so that incident at the start of the week just became a series of things building on top of each other. It was late, I was already overwhelmed and overstimulated, everyone was shouting at each other, demanding they be heard and that they were right. 
"Dammit Damon! You cannot just expect us all to run around your agenda!" 
"What else can we do?" Damon roared, I stared at my hands in my lap, fiddling with the skirt of my dress. I could feel Niklaus' eyes on me, they have been for the last little while, I have no clue what he was thinking or what he wanted but having him look at me, analysing me and my every move. 
"Love, are you alright?" Niklaus softly murmured, I simply hummed in response, not meeting his eye or the disapproving hum that came from his lips. Everyone kept yelling, hitting my furniture in frustration, I could feel the tears bubbling and the prickling in my throat, If I didn't get away now then I'd breakdown in front of everyone. 
While everyone was gathering around the table, writing out a plan for stopping this big bad, I slipped away and sat in my bedroom. I let out a shaky breath, letting the tears slip from my eyes and sobbed into my hands. I curled into my mattress, clutching my teddy bear to my chest and hoping all the chatter in my brain would fade away. 
"So, this is the great Y/n L/n's bedroom." I sat up, rubbing my eyes, watching as Niklaus sat on the edge of my bed and turned to face me. I took a deep breath, pushing myself up and rested my teddy bear in my lap, watching him as he gazed around my room before his eyes landing me again. 
"I am going to ask again... love. Are you alright?" His voice was smooth, gentle and even caring. On any normal day I could listen to him talk for hours on end, he had such a pretty voice. 
"No... no, I'm not alright." 
"Tell me what's wrong, love." It was a gentle demand, something I wouldn't fight against. 
"I've just been feeling very overwhelmed and overstimulated. Got too much." Niklaus simply nodded, took my hand into his and rubbed his thumb over my knuckles. Niklaus hummed, his face scrunching up in thought before it relaxed and his eyes gazed upon me soothingly. 
"I will kick them out from your home. They can take this to the Salvatore manor." 
"Thank you." He nodded and looked at my teddy bear. 
"What is this lovely thing's name?" I was grateful for the distraction, clutching to the arms of the bear a little tighter and smiled. 
"Her name is Pebbles. I got her when I was a baby. I know it's silly... not being a kid anymore and having a teddy bear still." Niklaus shrugged, seemingly not bothered by this. 
"Does it bring you comfort?" I nodded. 
"Then why should it matter?" 
"I suppose you are right, Niklaus." He chuckled once I said his name, I raised an eyebrow, trying to keep my own smile at bay from his sweet laughter. 
"You always call me Niklaus. I don't think I have ever heard you call me Klaus."
"I like calling you Niklaus. It sounds nice, it just rolls off the tongue." He chuckled nodding, turning his body to face me better. I took another breath, finding the uneasy feeling fading away the longer I sat in Niklaus' presence. It was quiet up here, I could just here the others and every time I would react to the group becoming more vocal, Niklaus would bring my attention back to him by asking about something in my room. 
My cat walked into the room, jumping onto Niklaus' lap, curling into him and hitting his hands with her paw to get him to pet her. 
"She's a sweet thing, I'm sorry, I'll call her off." 
"It's okay, I do not mind, your cat and you are quite welcome to my lovely presence and comfort whenever." I chuckled at the light sound of arrogance in his voice. He continued petting my cat for a little while until she jumped off and he took that as his moment to stand up and held out his hand. 
"Y/n, I think you need some time away from these headaches. Do you trust me?" I nodded, I really did, not once had Niklaus used me for his gain, he hadn't betrayed my trust once and I don't believe he ever would. 
"Yeah, okay." He picked me up, then sped out my window. Niklaus took me to a look-out in a couple towns over, it overlooked the water and no one else was nearby. The water brushed up against the rocks, soothing and peaceful. Within a blink he disappeared and within another he had a cup full of f/ice/c. 
"Thank you. Y-you didn't need to do this."  "You are feeling down, a sweet treat can always help. As I am told." I took small spoonfuls of the ice cream and started swaying to the gentleness of the violin. 
"You know my favourite ice cream, my favourite instrument and my favourite song. How?"  
"I have my ways, love." He whispers, letting me bask in the peace of the music. 
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mama-qwerty · 2 days ago
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Sonic 3 Review
Okay guys, I'm still gonna do some breakdowns of scenes and characters (feel free to keep sending in asks if you have something specific you want my take on), but wanted to get my thoughts on the movie out there.
Keep in mind that I came into Sonic through the movies, and have never played or watched any cut scenes from the older games. I have no idea the actual plot and specific details of any of them, just a vague "this happened in some game or another" in the broadest of senses.
So I didn't come into Sonic 3 with any preconceived ideas about what should be in it regarding Shadow's story. The movieverse is a separate universe (as are all Sonic media, in my mind), so even if there were some things that were different, I took them in correlation with what's been established, or what can be done under the rules and physics of the movie's world building.
Obviously spoilers ahead:
All in all, I found the movie fun, and it told a good story with good characterizations. The action started quickly and kept steady through most of it. We had an exciting introduction to Shadow at the very beginning, when he woke up and chose violence, and it was a good way to start things off.
Yeah, it was a little goofy in some parts, but this is a movie made to appeal to children, so Jeff and Co. couldn't go all into the angst for the whole thing. There were some parts I would have done differently, or omitted entirely, but if you look at the more weird parts of the movie as kind of along the same lines as Boom (especially for the dance number in the laser hallway) you can roll with it.
There were many moments that tugged at your heartstrings, and a few very powerful moments that I've already talked about. There is a much more emotional impact in this one that was missing from the first two, as our boys struggle with their actions and how they affect others. They were all handled very well, with each having a good role to play in the story.
The climax was great, and it was exciting to see Sonic and Shadow working together.
As I said, all in all, a really fun ride and my whole family enjoyed it a lot.
That said, let's look at a few of the points that I see some complaining about, and my take on them.
Not Enough Wachowski Family Moments
Okay, this one I will kinda agree with. We got a teeny peek into their dynamic is a family at the beginning, right before Rockwell showed up to whisk the boys away to clean up their mess. It would have been nice to see them all interacting more, to see how Knux and Tails have fit into this dynamic.
Devil's Advocate - There's only so much screen time available, and we know they're a family. We don't need to be bludgeoned over the head with fluffy scenes of the boys doing chores and having group hugs and all that. It would have slowed the narrative, and in the end, all that would not further reinforce the idea that they've come together as a family any more than their camping trip and celebration for Sonic's "B-Earth-day" already established.
Shadow's Origin Change
In the movieverse, Gerald claims that Shadow came to Earth encased in a meteorite. His energy readings were off the scale, so they took him to a facility to study him. He was not originally created by Gerald, and was simply an alien come to Earth and then taken to be studied.
Devil's Advocate - I have no opinion regarding this change, as the movieverse is different from any other media. They've already altered backstories where they needed, to make things at least somewhat 'realistic' and allow the boys to exist in 'our' world without major complications of Sonic just running around as a child fighting Eggman, and Knuckles being the last of his kind and having thousands of years separating him from his closest ancestors. (Not to mention the size change of the Master Emerald - having one the size of a VW Beetle would have been a little hard to hide or cart around.)
Having Shadow arrive kinda like Stitch is fitting in this version of the Sonic verse, as going into a lengthy explanation of how Gerald could manage to create a space hedgehog from scratch, when Angel Island may or may not exist, would have pushed suspension of disbelief a little much.
Maria's Not Sick
I thought the whole "Gerald takes her with him everywhere" thing for Maria seemed a bit flimsy, especially since she wasn't sick and in need of him to find a cure for her. They were in a super high security facility and there's this girl who's just allowed to wander freely simply because she's the granddaughter of the lead scientist?
I would have liked to see more of the reasoning behind her being there. And more of Maria and Shadow's relationship, especially from Shadow's side.
Devil's Advocate - Despite my comments above, I actually liked that they didn't make Maria's defining factor be her illness. She was a character in her own right, and befriended Shadow out of her own kindness, and not simply because he was created to cure her, and thus they were kinda forced to be together. She reached out immediately, and essentially kidnapped him from his tests to show him how to have fun. She showed him kindness, not because he was supposed to be her 'cure', but because she saw this little boy, all alone, and treated as a thing by the scientists, and took it upon herself to show him that he was more than that.
Too Much Gerald and Eggman Screentime
I will admit that sometimes it did seem like they were focusing a little too much on the Robotniks. We were subjected to a montage of Eggman living out little moments of childhood 'milestones' with Gerald, and that aforementioned dance number in the hallway was reminiscent of the dance battle in the second movie. Kinda silly.
Devil's Advocate - I think these scenes were to delve a little into Ivo's character a bit. It was established in the first one that he was an orphan, and through the second it reinforced the idea that he thought he didn't need anyone. He pushed people away, built his walls, and hid behind his bots. But now that he's faced with an actual blood relative, who seems to want him around, all those walls came down and we saw the hurt little boy within Ivo. This only made it hurt all the more when Gerald turned on him. And damnit, I actually felt bad for Ivo in that moment.
The Master Emerald/Chaos Emeralds
There is some confusion as to how these things worked. At the end of the 2nd movie, Sonic very distinctly sent all the chaos emeralds away. Knuckles reformed the Master Emerald without them. But in this movie, Sonic went Super with the Master Emerald, and somehow the chaos emeralds were still within it.
Devil's Advocate - Yeah, I got nothin'. 😆 Not sure if there was a deleted scene explaining that or something, but it seemed a pretty glaring continuity error.
But, whatevs. We go with it. 'Cause dis is how we roll.
And as an aside WHY DO YOU HATE WADE, JEFF??? Seriously, there were so many other ways to handle that scene, and you did THAT to him?? UUUGGGGHGGHGHGHGHh
Sonic Didn't Call Tom and Maddie "Dad and Mom"
Okay, yeah, I agree with this one. He called Tom 'Dad' at the end of the 2nd, meaning he finally accepted them as his parents. They call themselves a family. And yes, I will accept that he may slip back into their names during lighter times, when it's an emotional scene, he should call them "Mom and Dad". Such as in the cave and when Tom was hurt.
Devil's Advocate - Yeah, no, I can't argue with this. You can't have him call Tom 'Dad' in the last movie and then never touch on that again. The boys didn't even call each other 'brothers', for crying out loud! The perfect place to do that would have been the cornfield, and it was still 'friends'. THEY ARE BROTHERS YOUR HONOR AND TOM AND MADDIE ARE THEIR PARENTS
~~~
I'm not saying the movie was 100% perfect. There were things I found silly, or unnecessary. Things I would have done differently.
But taking a step back and looking at the full picture, and not just the individual brush strokes, it was entertaining, fun, and had more than a few moments that I found really powerful, much more than either of the previous ones did.
I'm excited to see where they go in the next one. Things are really ramping up.
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pomrania · 2 days ago
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From the image, I'd say we're talking about relatively early pre-timeskip stuff, which is what I'll be going with for here.
So yes, everyone's names are well-known; the only person who ISN'T reasonably likely to be recognized on sight is Sakura, because she's basically a nobody pre-timeskip, and she has no reason to HIDE her name. However, just by looking at this image, you can see that Kakashi only has a VERY small portion of his face visible, and thus wouldn't be able to be targeted by the Note from just that. And it's not something he only wears for photos, his face is ALWAYS covered, so if Kira wants to kill him it'll have to be via mundane methods (which Kakashi could easily avoid, as a high-level shinobi while Kira... isn't).
Sasuke and Sakura don't have any special protections against the Note. Their survival solely depends on if Kira decides to kill them or not. (I fully believe that if Kira kills Sasuke, then Itachi will track down and kill Kira within a month at most, and most of that time would be "how long it takes for him to hear that Sasuke's dead", but that's not relevant to this question.)
Naruto... I'm not so sure; as in, I genuinely can't tell. Jinchuuriki can be killed without the need for any special magic other than "do enough damage to them", but the presence of the Kyuubi MIGHT mess up the shinigami "targeting". Or it might just kill the kid and release the Kyuubi. Or it might return an error message of "back off shinigami or I'll bite your head off". Or maybe it gives Naruto a "fatal" heart attack but then he recovers from it. Or maybe it kills "Naruto" and puts the Kyuubi as the sole resident of that human body. Or something else. There's so many different possibilities.
Now, as to whether Kira would choose to try and kill them. I don't think we can apply a defence of "but they're just kids" here; they're GENIN, which means they're considered potential combatants. Kakashi has a Reputation, but he also has a persona, one carefully calculated to make him seem less of a threat, plus anyone trying to wrangle those three kids automatically seems less capable. (As for whether Kakashi would be noticed in the first place, I'd say yes, because he's there in the role of "person responsible for these ninja-in-training".) Naruto has a highly-developed ability to annoy people, and I think he would have gotten bad vibes from "the person who would become Kira", even BEFORE Kira got the Note; unless we're talking really late-stage Kira, he's not likely to want to kill someone SOLELY for being annoying, but I can see it influencing his choice of targets should he decide to kill "one of the genin". I don't believe Kira would consider any of those three as a THREAT, but I'll come back to this point later.
Putting this here, because I can't think of where it would best fit: the Kyuubi would be able to see Ryuk, and might or might not react in a way that Naruto can sense, and might or might not pass on "there's a shinigami hanging around that guy" to Naruto. Ryuk would be able to sense the Kyuubi in Naruto, and absolutely would NOT pass any of that on to Kira, UNLESS the Kyuubi is a threat to Ryuk himself; in which case Ryuk would just say "hey don't write down the name of that kid in orange" if it seems like a possibility.
Would Team Seven be able to CATCH Kira? Kakashi on his own, like if it was a solo mission, absolutely. He's intelligent, he's highly skilled in all sorts of infiltration and assassination, he's familiar with a whole lot of Magic Bullshit, he has dogs he can summon, and he isn't constrained by a need for formal evidence. As for the other members of Team Seven... not only are they a hindrance to Kakashi, they're a hindrance to each other, dysfunctional children that haven't learned to work together. I can see it potentially HAPPENING, but mostly because of Protagonist Power; if Naruto wasn't the main character of the story, it's not likely.
So here's how I see it going. Team Seven is hired to find some unknown shinobi (because that's the most reasonable conclusion, in that world) who is killing people; nobody really CARES that THOSE people are dying, but "having an unknown shinobi running around the place doing their own thing" isn't really comfortable. The investigation goes... laughably. Kakashi does a minimum of looking into things on his own time, to make sure that his students aren't stumbling into anything ACTUALLY dangerous, but otherwise he lets them make their own mistakes. Eventually, something changes. Maybe someone accidentally finds something that could make them a threat to Kira, even though they don't yet know it; maybe Kira learns who that dopey-looking "teacher" actually IS. Kira decides that Team Seven cannot be allowed to stay here, and the easiest way for that to happen is for one of the kids to die in an accident, and the best victim for that is the loud boy.
One way or another, it's the last mistake that Kira ever makes.
Maybe that unleashes the Kyuubi, and Kira dies as part of the collateral damage. Maybe Kakashi snaps from four different traumas all being triggered at once, and goes into "identify and eliminate" mode. Maybe all of Team Seven survives. Maybe none of them do.
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iridescentmirrorsgenshin · 5 days ago
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who yearns harder, alhaitham or kaveh?
this is the second part of the ask i received! the first part discussing alhaitham's yearning is here!
Before moving onto their current relationship in-game, kaveh’s yearning will be explored. I think kaveh’s ‘yearning’ was more his hurt and his mourning over one of the most substantial relationships in his life, as alhaitham effectively filled in the familial role kaveh was missing after the passing of his father and his mother leaving to Fontaine, additionally kaveh also considered alhaitham to be his 'best friend' before their argument
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in his voice line kaveh mentions that if they were as close as they used to be he would thank alhaitham for helping him out, meaning that he would have no hesitation in being open with and trusting of alhaitham
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Additionally, there’s a romanticism in kaveh using the idea of ‘the universe’ in relation to him and alhaitham, as it seems that fate has led them back together, which for kaveh, is both a negative and a positive due to their differences and the issues these differences have caused, where they were once the cause for the deepness of their bond
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Kaveh appears uncertain of why alhaitham would want him around, as alhaitham has seemingly rejected him in the past, so there is nothing he can conceivably offer, and this question is left unanswered
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This uncertainty in their relationship can be seen in how kaveh consistently complains about alhaitham, all the while acknowledging that alhaitham has helped him. this creates a parallel in his hangout where kaveh states if he didn’t care about his work, he wouldn’t be so torn up all the time, which can be linked to his treatment of alhaitham (especially as this is from the same route as the talk with alhaitham in the library), which kaveh equates to loving something
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Direct parallel or not, I think that alhaitham is equally as important to kaveh as kaveh is to alhaitham, only that due to kaveh’s misconception of alhaitham’s motives, past and present, this regard of alhaitham manifests in a way that can be misinterpreted as dislike, but kaveh’s care is explicit where he asks twice if alhaitham is okay after the encounter with Siraj, in him bringing takeout home for alhaitham, and in him worrying that alhaitham isn’t getting the interaction he deems as necessary when alhaitham misses the group dinner
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post-parade of providence, they now stand as equals, and kaveh is open with and trusting of alhaitham, enjoying their conversation in actively telling alhaitham about his day, and offering to help alhaitham research, rectifying their past thesis in cyno's second story quest (which i explore more here and here)
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kaveh now actively seeks alhaitham out, which is shown in an odd textual mystery,  where the first thing he wanted to do is inform alhaitham of what happened, which contrasts with kaveh’s claims previous that he doesn’t care what alhaitham does with his spare time, so long as it’s away from him
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now kaveh serendipitously bumps into alhaitham in port ormos in nahida’s birthday event, and says that he’s glad they did since he was meaning to talk to alhaitham about his plans, even though he believes they’re completed and 'foolproof' - simply because he wanted alhaitham’s opinion
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Overall, I think they’ve both yearned although in different ways, but I am a firm believer that alhaitham fell first, and kaveh fell harder. I think kaveh’s actions of seeking alhaitham out are explicit in this new arc for them, and this highlights alhaitham’s initial pursuit of kaveh in earlier story beats.
They’ve both finally reached the stage where they can reach out to the other, and have this be reciprocated, and they’re just as intolerable as ever <3333
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bixels · 7 months ago
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What did/do you like about Pharah?
Uh, gameplay-wise, I really love characters in shooters who rely on three-dimensional movement techs. Chaining together hover and jump to stay in the air for as long as possible and keep momentum is so satisfying, and picking enemies off from the sky made me feel like a bird of prey. I was a good Pharah main.
Story-wise, there unfortunately isn't much to canonically go off because Pharah is so underutilized and neglected. Her personality's pretty boilerplate "heroic hero" (she's literally inspired by Captain America).
But it's the crumbs/bits and pieces that I really latched onto. Pharah's a confirmed lesbian; her short story with Baptiste implies she harbors a crush on Mercy (fucking thank you.). She's biracial Egyptian/First Nations. She has major mommy issues, having grown up both admiring and resenting Ana. She's the bridge between Old Overwatch, inspired by the idealized heroes who surrounded her childhood, and New Overwatch. She's one of the only inter-generational characters in the cast; someone whose experiences span the gap, which is why I seriously believe Pharah would make a great main character.
There isn't much to go off of, though; she's a very uncomplicated character (she's a soldier for a private military corporation, lol.). But that just means she's a blank slate character, so I've seen fanfic writers run wild and create some really interesting takes on her. My favorite interpretation of her's a dense, herbo gym-bro type (a lot of her liens are about work outs, exercising, and playing sports) who's easily excitable under her seemingly self-serious, armored visage. We see how she tends to gloat and hype herself up when she's on a streak too, so Pharah definitely has a competitive and boastful side under her more professional and militant performance.
Now Mercy? Mercy is a real complex character.
#i was a diehard pharmercy shipper back then btw#the inherent homoerotic experience of pharmercy gameplay.#the homoerotic experience of looking to the skies to fly to safety under the protection of your knight in shining armor#the homoerotic experience of feeling white hot murderous rage at an enemy trying to pick off your pocket mercy#i still kinda despise gency lmao. you cannot convince me mercy would be in love with genji. at all.#he'd make her feel so uncomfortable and guilty. in my head. the canon is obviously different#gency is sexless. absolutely zero bite or tension.#i could go on about mercy and how her character has so much missed potential#i'm no longer in my overwatch fandom phase but#i still think about that new flirty line they added in ow2 where mercy goes “ahh you're like my knight in shining armor!”#and pharah goes “that's what i'm goin for ;)” and i sigh dreamily#really happy that pharah outright says she's a lesbian too but it's hard to feel good about rep when you know blizzard uses it for pr#to be honest i'm willing to bet cash that blizzard's keeping pharmercy in their back pocket as ammo for the next controversy#last year we already saw logs about pharah fretting and taking care of mercy and the two talking about how good it is to see each other#tbh pharah has the same energy/demeanor as applejack. cheerful and competitive in a can of whoopass#but yeah overall pharah's a pretty shallow character. i have IDEAS on how i'd go about deepening her but. whatever#that's sorta what happens when you have to juggle a cast of 40 characters. a lot get left with the bare minimum#ok so i wrote this entire post up saying that pharah isn't in ow2's storymode when she is. she's in the story i just. forgot#because she doesn't do or contribute anything interesting#ok i'm stopping here. overwatch's story is such an interesting narrative mess i could go on for hours#i dunno how you come up with such incredible character designs and give them such an unincredible story#it's also so so so interesting seeing the conflicting takes on characters the writers have#mercy in gameplay and voicelines is peppy and cheerful and optimistic#but mercy in the storymode journal logs is tired. jaded. a total shut in who forgets to leave her room and social#and YES! THAT'S WHAT I WANT!!! THAT'S MERCY TO ME!!! THE DOCTOR WHO FORGETS TO TAKE CARE OF HERSELF#ask me#anon
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nartml · 5 months ago
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Saw a comment describe killugon as 'born to be brothers, forced to be best friends'.
And I just have to say that, out of all the things that have never happened, that has never happened the most.
#if y'all look at your siblings that are within your age group with THIS level of heart eyes know that im actually concerned#i say within your age group because i totally get being 'smitten' with your baby sibling#im six and a half years older than the little fucker contaminating my room and i too look at him with pure adoration sometimes#but that's beside the point#because even then trust that i do not refer to him as my light nor do i wear a lovesick expression every time he crosses my mind#most of the time actually he's an annoying bug i want to squash. like when he greets me with 'hello you stupid piece of trash'.#like boy don't you doubt my willingness to beat you up if you don't behave yourself istg#okay enough my little brother has taken over my sacred tags#anyway what im saying is that these bitches are head over heals in love. they have the fattest crushes on each other.#you know how i know? because i WATCHED THE SHOW#their relationship is so far from brotherly it's insane how you even came to this conclusion#real talk though#obviously yall can interpret aspects of a story like characters themes relationships etc differently and ofc your opinion is valid#blah blah blah#all that crap#but don't expect me to take anyone who says this with their whole chest too seriously#because if you look at kg aka two adolescents that invented the term puppy love but also im-wholeheartedly-devoted-to-you and see brotherly#then i can't help you atp bro you're on your own with this one 😭#killugon#killua zoldyck#gon freecss#hxh#hunter x hunter#my little brother#gotta add him he played a key role in these tags
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phoenix-before-the-flame · 4 months ago
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I’m watching one piece, and now I’m wondering do you have any hcs on the world building in the fairy tail universe ? Do you think theirs some crazy kingdom’s , advanced technology in some lands ? Love to hear your thoughts 💗
hmmmmmmmmmmm kinda a bit of a deep question tbh.
Structurally FT has good bones for its world. And that's kinda it lol
There's a fleshed out map of all the countries within the continent that fiore is found on (Ishgar, which has 16 named countries apart from fiore itself) and expanding wider than that we know that there are about 3 named continents (Ishgar to the east being a peninsula connected to the mainland that we know nothing of, Alakitasia to the west where Alavarez is and Guiltina to the north) and a fourth unnamed continent further east that exists within earthland.
But while we have all this info, nothing in particular comes into play as the series had progressed, the majority of the series' arcs all more or less take place within the same country, which for a series that has it's characters constantly travelling for missions looks particularly bad, especially when even the known locations all visually seem indistinct from each other in terms of stuff like architecture. It's a reason why I appreciate edolas in particular because it at least offered something that visually stood out and an insight into how that culture functioned. (and in Phoenix Priestess for the small montage the squad in the city of Rose Garden and showing a bit of the country Veronica)
Like it is frustrating to me whenever I think on it because the solution would be just to change the locations of where they travel to just to expand the background of the places travelled, wouldn't even have to change arc structures or anything to give some life to the named countries like:
Joya despite its small size as a country is the main manufacturers of trains and exports the majority of the transportation other countries use as well as weapons. Wizards are less found here, with treasure hunting being a more popular job choice.
Sin, despite the ironic name, is a deeply religious and faith driven country. Magics that have connection to nature and celestial bodies are particularly revered here.
Desierto mostly deals with trade, having constantly active shipping ports. Enchanted items such as brooms and carpets are popular and easy transport choices within cities and are more widely used than vehicles.
Iceberg's largely uninhabited due to the weather with most of the population sticking closer to the country's borders.
Like this is all just purely flavour text examples to just try and bring some life to these otherwise lifeless locations but you get the general gist of it.
There was clearly this effort to establish these locations by giving then names (and drawing a full on map) so it always boggled me that they were never properly used as a backdrop for the arcs within the story. (Tower of Heaven? Move that arc to Sin, Lucy's arc with Loke? Takes place in Stella, That arc with the giant village? Put it in Minstrel).
Like shifting around major arc locations would easily open up avenues to naturally expand the world as the story moves. And not even just big arcs, but smaller less grand filler arcs (which jesus christ did ft rlly need because it defs need breathing room between all the big events. It's why the story moves at such a breakneck speed without things really feeling as though they've changed in any meaningful ways) would do wonders to make earthland feel like a genuine lived in world (like how it is within the world of one piece that you cited as an inspo for this ask.)
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rearranging-deck-chairs · 5 months ago
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laura heard "when is a monster not a monster? oh when you love it" and took that a little too literally
#laura voice: ive seen beauty and the beast!!! he stops being a beast!!!!#godddd#head in HANDS#this fucking episode. this fucking season#'the story isnt just...............fall in love with a monster...................that'd be a stupid story#i dont wanna be a part of that stupid story'#shouldnt have fallen in love with the monster then babe#fuckin delicious mentally contrasting this with thasmin#like to be clear theyre entirely very different dynamics in every way#different characters different dynamic different issues#but thats why the comparing is fun#the only way theyre similar as ships i think is that the partners are very similar to each other#but even there; with thasmin thats part of the problem while with hollstein i think thats why it works#hollstein looks like a......idealist/cynic dynamic but it's not#oh my god carmilla's vampire ex routine is so fun shes so fun#tells laura she loves her while breaking up with her#immediately tries to balance out that insane vulnerability by leaning HARD into the apathetic detached vampire thing#'yea im not turning into prince charming creampuff. deal with it'#i love this defence mechanism. i love how soft she really is under it which we get to see in the first half of s2#i love how it makes it so obvious she was hiding behind this same shield all of s1#and by extension all of like the last couple of centuries#like yazs reaction to figuring out the doctor kinda sucks is to like. embrace it. live with it. learn to understand it.#enable it perhaps but theres an acceptance there. like she fell in love and then the rosecoloured glasses broke and then she decided#to love the doctor still.#thats my take on yaz anyway#but laura like. fell in love. and went. okay then my love must be Good#yaz went 'okay i'll join your lie'. laura tried to make carmilla join HER lie. or her misconception of the world.#it's less of an active self-deception it's more just naivety#i just. aaaaaaaaaaa. theyre the same age!#anyway. i want yazs diaries and carmilla's.....i dont think she does diaries. and she wouldnt talk to a camera. carmilla's book annotations
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chronomally · 8 months ago
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Xu Kou really doesn't deserve any of this
#please feel free to ignore this#I'm reading Tyrant Pampering Wife Diary#If I found out my stupid-ass husband colluded with his stupid-ass family to rob his stupid-ass sister's stepson I would beat his ass#The chickens have come home to roost! The notoriously unstable prince has the emperor's favor!#You robbed his beloved husband of his assets and turned a blind eye to his abuse!#I know this is a wuxia setting but please Xu Kou divorce his ass#I would refuse to be collateral damage love is NOT that expensive#Honestly the dramatically different story trajectories for each group of characters are like so funny#Li Xiao and Song Song are on the ups they're in love and a baby is on the way they just have to dodge the assassination attempts#The Qin family is so mega fucked and every attempt they make to unfuck themselves actually fucks themselves even worse#The Song family has Had It and have bowed out of all the horseshit#Xu Kou is about to kill her husband and make it look like an accident because you fucking asshole how dare you#Also tbh if I was Xu Kou I would Not Be Happy#Are you going to do this to our children if a better prospect comes along?#Are you going to dishonor me and steal from my children if you bring in a new higher-ranked spouse? Kys#They told Madam Song and Song Guogong that they failed as parents but um so did Prime Minister Qin lol#Look at what your shit-ass children have done look at the mess they've made in their greed and desperation#They are all SO fucking lucky Hong Ren is the emperor because once Li Xiao takes the throne it's OVER
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