#fandom is quietly isolating in a way it never used to be

[borgeslabyrinth]

I know I'm like. Deeply sleep deprived. But I wasn't expecting Jenny Nicholson's video essay on the final brony con to make me tear up, especially since I was never a brony and only had negative impressions of the fandom, but here we are.

[antariies]

being overwhelmingly white isn’t unique to gw2blr in fact i’d say most fandoms on tumblr are like that. but sometimes when ppl are like “why are there so few poc in this space?” it’s not because none of us are interested in gw2. it’s because, unintentionally or not, you guys have curated a space that is so unwelcoming and uncomfortable to poc that it dissuades us from engaging at all and, on occasion, has driven us out.

[eccentricallygothic]

Sunshine

Pairing: Recovering Winter Soldier!Bucky Barnes | Lab technician!You.

Description: As Shuri's top and most emotionally intelligent technician, you are the one Bucky ends up opening up to during his recovery in Wakanda… And then some.

Warning(s): Top Bucky, bottom reader, his vibranium arm, inexperienced reader, experienced Bucky, dirty talk, pet names, fingering, allusions to unprotected p-in-v sex, nipple biting, kissing, virgin reader, smut with plot, reader and Bucky like each other, brief mentions of his Winter Soldier days, age gap, teasing, humiliation, size kink, allusions to dacryphilia. Minors do not interact.

Type: Request by @imagine-all-the-fandoms, here.

Note: Can you tell I am obsessed with the arm?

MASTERLIST

.

It was usual for Bucky's corner of residence to remain deserted. He was still relatively new to Wakanda and people had heard enough tales about his past life to not welcome him with too much hospitality. They didn't take too warm heartedly to outsiders as it was. And a former killing machine was… well, you guessed it. But you were not sure that Bucky really minded. Apart from the bond he had formed with you -very slowly and steadily, might you add- during his therapy in Shuri's lab, you had observed he preferred being by his lonesome and did not mind the isolation.

The more you found out about him, the more you reckoned he probably needed it.

That was the reason why you felt guilt nip at your cheeks when you heard some leaves rustle behind you and when you instinctively turned to see what it was, you found no one other than Bucky staring back at you. Momentary panic settled in your bones but before you could try and ramble your case and embarrass yourself any more, Bucky offered you a small and friendly smile. You had no idea what it was about him that made you all shy and mum because usually you were a very confident and forthcoming person. You were Shuri's top technician after all. But there was something about the way Bucky's blue eyes watched you, how they flickered down your face just momentarily at times, the manner in which his lashes flexed if he looked further down south, and how his tongue subconsciously swiped across his lips during a conversation sometimes. 

It spread warmth throughout your whole body.

… Like right now.

“The… stars are so bright tonight” you tried your best to mask the awkwardness with a casual amiability. What? Bucky made you feel nervous, alright?  

The male only hummed in agreement as he quietly took a perch beside you, letting his longer legs down the edge of the lake that ran behind his cabin and letting his now bare feet touch the water that everyone used for swimming and fun.

The two of you stayed like that for a little bit, Bucky had never been much of a conversationalist in all the time you had known him and it was always you who had to prompt him to speak or engage in casual talk or even a discussion. A content smile played at your lips while you gazed up at the stars. You liked his corner of the land. It was very calming and serene. Perhaps even more so than the rest of Wakanda. Or so you felt.

It was Bucky's corner after all.

“So… how's the new arm?” You nodded towards the black and gold vibranium arm that the lab had finalized after various meticulous precautions and measurements while giving him the best mental and even physical therapy possible all the while. Shuri had called in Bucky this afternoon to finally install it into the socket you and other technicians had built into his side. After one last test to see if his HYDRA conditioning really was gone for good, it had been you who had with the use of tender and nimble fingers locked the arm into place. It had been a rather emotional moment and you were the only tech Bucky had allowed to touch him. Since he had never been allowed any liberty in his past life, Shuri made sure you all respected the man's comfort first and foremost.

You could never have a problem with that. 

“Pretty good, actually” your eyes followed the glint of the moonlight bouncing off the bionic limb as he flexed his fingers and slowly twirled his arm for you to see. “More comfortable too” you were a nerd so it got you excited. And no, the fashion in which the digits of his new hand had stretched had nothing to do with it.

“Yes! Shuri actually wanted to use…” You began the technical ramble Bucky didn't really understand but didn't mind either. “I suggested we instead use…” And it wasn't sympathy humming either, you had learnt that the Soldier had retained his sassy side and if you were boring him out, he had his quiet ways of giving you a shut up call. “Because I knew that it would bite on your skin…” You hadn't realized just how close you had scooted into Bucky and the way you were cradling his vibranium arm and its various crevices while it laid in your lap until his hot breath fanned some of the stray strands away from your face. “S- So…” Your voice wavered from the hyperawareness all of a sudden, eyes flickering down to his lips before you could stop them and your no longer coherent words quivered. “I- I… she… we…” A breathless chuckle escaped him.

“Y/n?”

“Bucky?” You tried to focus and as a result ended up widening your eyes so much that you looked like a fish out of water. What? Straight A bookworms like you didn't enjoy the luxury of knowing their way around the sex of interest. 

“Shut up” his words were outwardly blunt but the tone in which he said them, the half smile which made his lips handsomely droop to one side and the manner in which he leaned in soon after stopped you from getting offended just in time. Though you couldn't really visualize yourself getting mad at him anyways. 

“Okay, Bucky” was all you were allowed to blurt out before his pleasantly soft lips pressed against yours. You whimpered into his mouth from how tender the kiss was and how delicate he was about it. You had no idea what you were expecting and if you were even expecting something, but something so soft coming from a man with a stature like Bucky's, you were taken by a pleasant surprise. The kiss was warm and meaningful.

… But way too short. 

You gasped once you came to your senses and realized the gravity of the situation. You were kissing Bucky fucking Barnes! The kiss had been rather brief– too brief, but it had also felt like an eternity at the same time due to how your brain had declined you of its service.

Bucky was taken aback by your gasp and now a guilty panic began to mar his handsome features. “I… am sorry…” He wasn't as inexperienced as you but there were generations and years of lack of practice between you two and self doubt began to fill him. “I–” you vehemently shook your head when he began to back away.

“N- No! No, no!” You repeated desperately. “No, Bucky!” You finally had him after months of secret wondering and longing and you were not about to let it go. “No!” So you leaned in yourself this time and hurriedly pecked his lips before pulling back a little to look at him to see if he was still comfortable with it. The next kiss you pressed to his lips was admittedly one that caused for guilt to knot up in your chest because his expression had been difficult to read and in case he didn't want to take this any further, you needed to feel him one last time. 

Bucky wordlessly kissed you again and you didn't give him a chance to back away this time. And after that it was a passionate tussle of your hands and lips pulling and sucking down at one another until you were both undressed in Bucky's bed, tangled together. 

Bucky's vibranium fingers cupped the side of your face as he put his hot tongue into the kiss. You were laying down on your back in the middle of the bed and his huge form was bent over you, one knee pushed between your legs. The man knew how to kiss and he certainly knew how to eat, it was clear from how his tongue pressed against yours before it went to explore the rest of your mouth. The way he swirled it around your own sent heat and shivers down your abdomen and straight to your core that had begun to pulsate when you were still outside. 

“Tell me, doll,” his guttural voice made you moan into his mouth when he let his bionic fingers trail down the side of your body before they found a hold in the soft cut between your hip and torso. “Did you fantasize about me touching your pretty body like this when you used to ‘inspect’ the arm, hm?” You blushed severely. Bucky knew a slut when he saw her. Even the shy little inexperienced ones like yourself. He was twice your age and had ten times more experience. 

“B- Bucky…” You felt called out as your ticklish palms -courtesy of his stubble- began to moisten up from the shame his words made you feel. 

“Are you really gonna deny it?” His voice was low and sexily lewd. That tongue of his did the sexy thing again where he ran it along his flush lower lip and your thighs quivered in response to the visual. “Because I've seen the way you used to look at it… The way you looked at it today…” Images of him flexing his fingers as trial from earlier today appeared before your eyes and you couldn't help but wonder if you would feel them tonight. Or how they'd feel if one was to get lucky with him. The thoughts made you want to tighten your thighs against one another, only his knee hindered your wishes. 

“Bucky…” It was a whine this time and he chuckled. 

“Aw, what is it, huh baby?” He hungrily kissed your lips again before he pulled back just enough so he could be audible but not so much that the spit string between your mouths would break. “Tell me and I'll give it to you” you surprised yourself by placing your hand over his and eagerly pushing it down towards your aching pussy. Bucky snickered. “Is that what you want, pretty girl? My fingers in between these sexy little legs of yours?” You sheepishly nodded but said nothing, rolling your hips from the surge of lava his deep voice was causing in your loins. “I am sorry, baby. But this won't do” he clicked his tongue as he pretended to pull away. 

“W- What?!” Your imploration was unintentionally loud. “Why?!”  

The coral of his eyes had become so much darker than when he had first kissed you. “Because you must use your words for me first” his body weight rested on his elbow as he stroked your face with his right hand, speaking in the tone of a man addressing a child. “Tell me what you want” his metal fingers kneaded the tender flesh of your hip as his lips pressed against you in a series of pecks. 

You softly pouted. “B- Bucky!” The whine you let out was accusatory in nature. Because he knew exactly what you wanted. 

“Aw” he mimicked your pout. This man was so different from the recovering sunshine you had known before this night. The disparity caused for a drop of hot arousal to bubble past your opening. “Would you look at this pouty little thing here?” His thumb traced the shape of your bottom lip before he pressed it down with the tip. 

“P- Please…” He was being so mean. It embarrassed you. But it also added to your arousal. 

Bucky was making you work for it. 

“I know, baby. I know…” He pressed kisses along your jaw in consolation, metal fingers coming up to toy with the swells on your chest. “Pretty things like you aren't used to putting in much work, are they?” Well, no. Simply because this was the most action you had ever gotten. But it made your pussy throb nevertheless. “Well, that's not how things work around here, baby. You gotta tell me how you want me first” you whined past the thick bile in your throat but Bucky did not relent, instead choosing to intently watch you until you caved to him and your need. 

He could do that for the rest of eternity anyways.

“F- Fine…” Your voice was a begrudging whisper once you realized there was no way out. 

“‘Atta girl, go ahead…” His voice was a much agreeable velvet. 

“N- Need you…” You cleared your throat since you were barely audible. “Need you, Bucky” your back arched in shock and a whimper escaped you when you went to place your smaller hand on his bionic one to guide it to your pussy only to him twist your nipple that he had been fingering at the very last moment. 

“I am sorry, what was that?” The clamber in his breathing rate signaled that he had heard you loud and clear. But he just wanted to be cruel to your dignity. 

You were on the verge of tears. “Need you, Bucky!” Before you forced his hand down your body again. “... D- Down there!” The lower part of your abdomen was thumping like it did when you had first discovered the state of arousal. 

“Down where?” You felt like screaming at the tease in his tone.

“Y- You know where!”

“Do I?” 

You hissed. “Down there!” You made him cup your pussy. “Here! Right here!” Your breath quivered at the feel of the metal brushing past your sensitive petals. “B- Between… between… Ah!” Your blood curdled at the wanton moan you let out, surprised by your own ability to make such a sound. 

“Oh, so you mean this cute little pussy, huh?” His bionic digits finally spread themselves over your needy core and your mind nearly melted out of your ears. 

“Y- Yes!” You breathily admitted, flinging your head to the side as you gripped his shoulders from the sensory overload, your hardened nipples grazing against his hairy chest. 

Bucky tutted like the teasing asshole he was. “You gotta say it, baby” his fingers squished their way between your pussy lips and the feel of the textured digit running down the stripe between them had you shuddering. “Say it properly. Tell me you need me in this cute little pussy of yours” when you whined in protest, he licked a stripe on the side of your mouth and then sealed it with a hot kiss. “You can do it, pretty girl. You're already doing so well for me” his words had caused you to make a puddle of warm white liquid on his bed. But Bucky didn't seem to mind. “Come on.” 

“N- Need you in m- my…” Your throat dried out and your voice remained absent until Bucky hummed in an encouraging manner and dipped his head between your head and shoulder to pepper kisses along your sensitive throat, metal fingers flexing over your pussy in a rapid, circular design. Your smaller body quivered under his, knees buckling up to press into his sides from the sensitivity of it all. “Need you in my c- cute little pussy so bad– oh!” Your back jerked itself straight when Bucky's middle finger found its way into your weeping cunt all of a sudden.

“Sorry, whose cute little pussy?” His friendly smile had any intentions but.

“M- My cute little pussy!” Your toes curled at your own words.

“See, baby?” His teeth that were busy marking you his grazed against the soft skin of your neck. “That wasn't so hard now, was it?” 

“Oh, Bucky!” He scooped you up against his chest with his other arm and crawled with you until your head was on his pillow and he was hovering above you. Your lips were parted and your balmy pussy was tight around his finger that fucked in and out of you as a steady pace. 

“I think we have ourselves a problem here, doll” Bucky rasped as he tickled your clit with thumb, adding another finger to your opening. You were so wet that despite the tightness of the band, the metal digit slid right in. 

You couldn't help but rock your hips against his hand, your own stroking his arm that rested on your torso while he played with your nipples. “W- What problem?” Any volume above what classified as whispering was impossible for you in your lust dumb and still shy state.

“Your pussy is too tiny for me” and that night you lived to learn that he was right. 

Minutes– no, hours had gone into Bucky opening you up and preparing you for his girth, shushing and consoling you with kisses and praises before your taking. Though you had been insistent that he not stop what he was doing because of how good it felt, tears and snot had admittedly been spilled. 

But the way his thick cock had filled you up to the brim so completely, the manner in which all its crevices had pressed against your tight velvet walls, the fashion in which his tip had created for itself a sensitive spot deep up your cavern, the affectionate and intimate style in how Bucky had snaked his vibranium arm around your form to hold you close against him while his hips had done their eventually brutal work and the length of his cock had rapidly fucked in and out of your stretched out cunt, your fingers tugging at his dark locks whilst his mouth marked you everywhere he desired, the pleasure you felt from the sting his mouth produced, and the bobbing of your knees which lay atop his against his sides… the orgasms had been loud and many. 

Though when the two of you exited his cabin the next morning and entered the line of sight of your employer who was both surprised and impatient by your being late to work for the first time ever, the mangled expressions of passion from the night before were present on neither of your faces, content smiles having replaced them.

You had high hope it was going to stay that way.

.

[sleepingdeath-light]

relationship hcs ; sunny day jack

requested by ; nobody / self indulgent

fandom(s) ; something’s wrong with sunny day jack

fandom masterlist(s) ; here

character(s) ; sunny day jack

outline ; “dating hcs for jack”

warning(s) ; canon-typical violent and obsessive behaviour, but mostly fluff!

this almost goes without saying, but jack is the type of partner who will do anything and everything he possibly can to ensure your continued happiness and safety in both your relationship with him and in your life in general — usually this just means him doing little things here and there to make your day pass by smoother (preparing a healthy and filling breakfast for you so you don’t have to wake up as early, keeping track of all your appointments so you don’t need to stress about forgetting, watching the weather to ensure you’re able to be prepared and dress for whatever happens to be in store, doing the chores when you’re too sick or tired to get up, etc.) but on occasion this can mean him taking some more… shall we say ‘extreme’ measures to make sure that you’re able to go about your life as comfortably as possible (e.g. quietly disposing of someone who is getting a bit too bold for his tastes when you’re not looking, or personally hunting down and dealing with someone who made you upset or uncomfortable at work)

as indicated in the previous point jack is someone who is big on acts of service, but that’s not the only way that he shows his love for you — far from it, in fact, as he makes good use of pretty much all of the love languages he has at his disposal because he wants to make you happy and leave you absolutely and unshakeably certain about his love for you

physical affection — after spending so long being forgotten and left behind in that damned tape jack absolutely thrives off of your touch and attention and, naturally, isn’t opposed to showering you with just as much affection as you’re comfortable with in return: he loves to cuddle with you, he adores the feeling of having you in his arms, he can’t help but smile when you curl up into his side or lay on his chest, your kisses give him life and he takes any and every chance he can get to have your lips on his (or to get the chance to kiss you in return, especially if it happens to be on your lips, your neck, or on the tip of your nose). in short, he really resonates with physical affection as a love language.

quality time — aside from a few very specific circumstances, jack is always by your side no matter where you are or who else you’re with: he’s quietly hanging out with you when you’re at work, he’s dancing with you in the kitchen while he’s making your favourite food, he’s walking by your side when you’re out and about in the town, he’s lounging beside you in the living room as you watch some show or film or another, he’s holding you in his arms as you fall asleep in bed, and so on. even in your so-called private moments, like when you’re taking an important phone call or when you’re in the bathroom, jack’s never too far away and is always quick to pop up once you’re done with whatever it was you were doing in your time apart.

words of affirmation — unless he’s actually completely asleep, your darling jack never goes too long without uttering some encouraging phrase or another to you. sometimes they’re short motivational speeches to hype you up for the day to come, other times they’re bits of very genuine and personal praise that would make anyone swoon, and occasionally they’re compliments about your appearance uttered so earnestly and sweetly that you can’t help but believe him — but no matter what form they come in, you know with a great deal of certainty that he means each and every word with every fibre of his being.

jack is absolutely petrified of being left alone (again) and he’s also extremely, dangerously, possessive over you and your time. both of these traits when combined make him extremely effective at isolating you from other people and making you completely reliant on him, which he accomplished through a mixture of verbal and emotional manipulation (gaslighting, white lies, leading questions, lovebombing, guilt tripping about his love for you, pretending he’s slowly disappearing from reality because of your actions, playing on your trust for him to make you push others out), physical actions (showering you with affection and good deeds when you do what he wants and withholding them when you disobey, using intimacy as a tool to get you to say what he wants you to, etc.), and violence towards others (stalking, threatening, maiming, attacking, kidnapping, and killing if it comes down to it) — and because of how effective his persona is, you never get the chance to see his mask truly slip and remain under the impression that your darling (potentially undead) boyfriend is the gentleman he portrays himself to be and that your relationship is a dream come true

(perhaps ignorance truly is bliss)

he has a scary good memory when it comes to everything about you, even the little things about yourself that you only mentioned offhandedly once or twice in all of the years you’ve known him — and this applies to everything from your smaller ‘favourites’ (e.g. favourite flowers, favourite sweets, favourite foods, favourite drinks, favourite type of weather, etc.) to the bigger and more important things about you (e.g. your allergies, information about your physical and mental health, the names of your immediate family, what hobbies and interests you have, your ring size, etc.), and all of that knowledge has allowed him to become the most perfect boyfriend he can possibly be for you

as far as pet names go he either calls you ‘sunshine’, your first name or an affectionate variation thereof, but he’s happy with whatever it is you want to call him as long as it’s not, you know, something that’s actually mean — though if you happen to call him something that implies you want to be tied to him for the rest of your life (e.g. ‘and how’s my future husband doing this morning?’), even if it’s said as a joke, then he’s going to get this absolutely starstruck look on his face, like you just told him the best news of his life, and you’ll be spending the rest of the day being spoiled absolutely rotten and showered with affection by a very clingy (somehow even more so than usual) and very chipper jack

[olderthannetfic]

I was an undiagnosed autistic until after I graduated, so for a long time I had a lot of difficulty making friends, particularly in IRL spaces. By the time I was 16 literally every friend I had was online, and since the adults in my life weren't ideal, this online group was really the only support group I had. Unfortunately they were all antis, but they were never the aggressive kind, and I wasn't very well versed in anti/pro discourse at the time anyways, so I just dealt with it. I'd have fun with "problematic" stuff quietly and in private, and everything was alright.

At some point I came across a group of more aggressive antis, and the way that they treated artists in our shared fandom that they didn't like was so jarring to me. I ended up getting into it with them and they held a grudge against me for a long time after that, following and harassing me even after I cut ties and went on with my life with my original friend group. They just would not leave me alone no matter how much time had passed. I'd never seen that before and just tried to ignore them, but fuck were they persistent.

I'd been dealing with a lot more stress after this started, from a wide variety of IRL issues, and aside from not knowing I was autistic, I was also dealing with a lot of other random mental problems that I still don't really fully understand. I think all the stress in my life, from a lot of horrible things that I honestly think I might have PTSD from now, put me into some kind of paranoid mental break. I started behaving really erratically, very publicly. I know it was obvious because I'd constantly get concerned messages asking if I'm okay. People knew I was going through a lot and that I wasn't mentally stable.

With all that being said, this group of antis LOVED seeing me like this. It didn't matter what I was dealing with, that it was destroying my mental health. They had a grudge over some petty fiction stuff, were still upset that I told them off for harassing random people, and they used this fragile period of time for me to amp up their harassment and stalking. I started losing friends I'd trusted for reasons I couldn't understand, and it turned out they'd been telling them I wasn't trustworthy and that they should cut contact. They thought it was so much fun to feed into my pre-existing issues and make things worse.

I don't mean to trauma-dump or anything, so sorry if this is too heavy, but my point is that antis do not and will never care about how much they hurt someone, and that it's likely the entire point to begin with. Even the friends that supported me at the start ended up turning against me once I became too much of a social hazard to associate with. Even the ones who seemed like more "rational" antis, who never went out of their way to hurt anybody. They all turned out to be the same and it never made any difference what our history was or how important they knew they were to me.

It's not worth it to stay. It's never worth it to stay with people like that. Even to this day I'm amazed at how horribly these experiences affected me in the long-term. I go to therapy and end up talking about this period of time more than anything that happened during my childhood. Lots of people I trusted decided I wasn't worth the risk, not even because of anything I did, but just because I said harassment wasn't okay, and because I wasn't in a healthy state of mind. They saw my stress and paranoia and thought "Well, this isn't someone worth helping. People already don't like them. I don't want to throw away my social life for that." All over fiction. I still can't make friends anymore, this destroyed my ability to trust people. The isolation isn't worth the short-term friendships.

Everyone deserves better than that. If somebody is friends with antis... just leave. Trust me. Just get out.

--

What bullies want most is for you to cry in public.

We might not like to admit it, but deep in the core of many people is a seed of sadistic delight in public humiliation, and not the fun kind you do with consenting partners. When people feel small, when they lack control, when their real enemies are faceless or unreachable, they want something soft and defenseless and small to hurt.

Re your "friends", most people are cowards when it comes down to it.

The ones that aren't are 1. going to get harassed too and 2. are the sort of people who walk into that on purpose, which often means they're pretty confrontational and aggressive the rest of the time. Look at the life of any great activist whom we all thank from afar for what they did for our community... and you will often find a person who's not an easy or calm friend day to day. Not always, but not infrequently.

My actual friend friends that I can rely on are not only older but also usually out of the reach of the sort of people who send me death threats. I don't generally reveal their fandom names on here because it would bring a lot of nuisance down on their heads. (And, tbh, a lot of them are quasi-lurkers anyway.) The Fandom Olds you'll see openly associating with me on Tumblr generally have a cast iron stomach for wank and either like fighting or just find all the combatants so pathetically irrelevant that nothing's going to get through to them emotionally.

Antis do suck, but if you look at any sort of big fandom drama or even offline bullying, you'll see that many people will quietly slither away when the public ostracism of their "friend" gets too much. It's sadly not a property unique to antis.

Most would like to think of themselves as that fictional hero they love who stands up for the downtrodden no matter what the cost. Most are lying to themselves.

It doesn't stop me from being friendly to new people, but yes, I absolutely assume they will fold like wet tissue at the first sign of trouble, especially if I only know them online. They're not all mean people, just weak.

But yes, avoiding people such as antis who've openly told you they're hypocritical cowards with bad values is a step in the right direction.

[goblins-riddles-or-frocks]

In case you haven’t already been asked, can I please hear the soapbox about Aleksander being a direct take on Edward Cullen?

(Also your meta is astonishingly well written and well thought out and a delight to read!)

Thank you so much! That’s so sweet! Not to be vain, but well I am simply vain and like hearing that lol.

This is a fandom I’ve mostly avoided interacting with people in because I feel like there seems to be a very strong dichotomy between people who absolutely loathe the Darkling and all aspects of the villain ship and judge any engagement with it or conversely people who loooove him but are like “He’s never done anything wrong in his life ever and Alina’s actually evil and ungrateful for running away from him”

So I’ve mostly just been quietly posting fic in my own corner for as long as I’ve been on the periphery of the fandom. The current meta thing happened on accident but it’s been fun and I enjoy getting asks!

Anyway, this took me awhile to get to because I’ve been trying to figure out how to best articulate my thoughts beyond what I already generally said in that other post:

[Shadow and Bone was probably being written] towards the tail end of the post Twilight paranormal, and specifically vampire, romance boom. It was not at all uncommon to see unironic romances focusing on impressionable teenaged protagonists with poor self esteem, getting with 100+ year old love interests who, in singling them out (for their “maturity” and discontent from their peer group) validate their self worth, but also completely isolate and impose their own values on them.

The first half of the very first TGT book follows those same tropes pretty closely, and the initial romance heavy book marketing was basically indistinguishable from that crop of books.

To be clear, I think wish fulfillment stories are fine lol, but it’s really interesting to think of SaB (and the Darkling!) as a deliberate deconstruction in response to those trends.

So that does sum up my thoughts generally. But to get into it in more depth, let’s talk about Twilight.

Stories featuring teen protagonists and immortal love interests are older than Twilight, of course. But I’d argue that Twilight codified and popularized a particular version where the point is validation of self worth through the romance.

Comparing it to 90s versions of similar plotlines, BTVS, Vampire Diaries (the books), and Silver Kiss all have teen/immortal romances but the protagonist is already mostly self actualized or previously singled out as special in some way. It’s not dependent on the love interest noticing the protagonist to signify that she’s deserving of attention? If that makes sense? The romances instead hinge more on the protagonist having some sort of brush with death or other source of morbidity that allows her to feel kinship with the vampire and relate to him.

(I’m using specific pronouns because this is such a gendered and heterosexual genre and story type. I’d argue gender roles are an inherent part of how it functions)

With BTVS it’s Buffy’s entire alter life as a slayer and the violence and loneliness of it that her peers could never understand. Vampire Diaries and Silver Kiss both focus on loss of a parent(s) and the jarring alienation of grief.

Conversely, Twilight opens with Bella as an aggressively ordinary and unassuming girl. The narrative is very explicit about her not feeling very pretty or special in any way. She’s dissatisfied with her life because she constantly puts everyone else in it first, and though she is forever self sacrificing she also isn’t very vocal about it, so she gets no meaningful acknowledgement for how much she tries to do.

It’s also worth noting that Bella being the new addition to a very small town and all attention being on her is also a prominent part of the first book, so it’s really about superficial attention vs someone really Seeing Her. This is reinforced by her coming to Edward’s attention at all because a) he inexplicably can’t read her thoughts and b) her blood smells really good and is testing his morals and self control lmfao. Because again both of these things are superficial forms of attention and specialness and the particularly tasty blood— imo primarily being a very Mormon metaphor for violent sexual desire/impulses in men— is in-universe just overtly negative attention. But they fall in love despite all that, because she is pure enough and nice enough and interesting enough on her own merits that he sees past all that to who she is as a person.

Whether or not these themes are consciously employed, Twilight is inextricable imo from Stephenie Meyer’s Mormonism and that sort of very conservative perspective. In a way, the romance in Twilight becomes a metaphor for an inherently violent man (It’s not his fault though! He’s just cursed with sinful urges!) being faced with how pure and secretly special the protagonist is and being floored enough by it to instead fall in love with her. It’s about seeing her humanity and it being so shockingly unique to him apparently that it eclipses his predisposition to see her simply as one of three existing categories: an NPC, prey, OR despised temptation who exists solely to challenge his morals.

This is further explored by the werewolves as an incredibly racist mirror to this, and Emily as an example of someone whose violent spouse was not able to hold back… perhaps because she simply wasn’t special enough… or honestly perhaps because she didn’t see the value of their relationship and (iirc) didn’t want anything to do with him. Their relationship is apparently idyllic once she’s chosen to stay 😬 but that’s tangential.

This element of violence is something that the biggest and most well known Twilight imitator, Fifty Shades of Grey, definitely picked up on. (Unfortunately I’m also going to talk about Fifty Shades a fair bit to compare and contrast!) Where, its incredibly flawed swapping out of vampirism for perceived sexual deviance in the form of terrible BDSM etiquette lmao and just outright trauma notwithstanding, the main premise is just overtly “What if you were SO pure and sweet that an abusive and overtly sadistic man who is going out of his way to not see your personhood was forced to confront you as a human being and fell in love with you, enough so to change his ways entirely”

All this being said, I don’t think Twilight’s biggest impact on the paranormal romance genre as a touchstone was really as a metaphor for… uh being good enough to not be victimized by a man lmao. At least not all the time. I’d argue the most popularly recycled tropes are just that of an unassuming protagonist with low self esteem, who’s never really acknowledged by her peers, having her worth validated by an immortal creature. This validation comes from a hot immortal love interest being framed as inherently better and cooler than the guys all the other girls are dating, but also because immortality means that this older and more worldly character presumably has a much higher standard to clear! If this character is saying that the protagonist is shockingly special and interesting and worthy of love, next to all of her peers that he doesn’t even notice at all, that must both be true and a good thing. In this way, the love interest’s values, either inadvertently or deliberately, are the only values that matter. And rising to that standard is usually synonymous with isolation from one’s peers and even viewing them as lesser.

Meanwhile, another frequent trope in the genre is controlling behavior. This is typically just there as a way to highlight how much the love interest loves the protagonist, and maybe as a way to introduce some desirable undertones of danger/conflict. In Twilight’s defense, while Edward imposing his own values on Bella entirely, constantly ignoring the very few boundaries she sets, and being all around a controlling creep isn’t treated with a real understanding of its gravity, it’s also not presented wholly uncritically. There is a (very drawn out) arc over the course of the series where she allows her identity to be subsumed into him and existing only in terms of their relationship, but by the last book she does actually push back on plenty of his hard and fast rules— if still in that fundamentally conservative and Mormon way. She keeps the baby he doesn’t want; she gets to turn into a vampire and stay with him forever; her experience with vampirism ISN’T his experience with vampirism ie mindless bloodthirstiness lol; she doesn’t need to fake her death; her family and friends can continue to be a part of her life. But Twilight imitators usually don’t get that far!

So let’s finally circle back around to Shadow and Bone:

First of all let’s talk about its early marketing. Shadow and Bone’s earlier title was the Gathering Dark and iirc the first round of ARCs were even sent out with that title and this cover:

Notice the paranormal romance tagline of “A dark heart. A pure soul. A love that will last forever.”

Meanwhile this was the official blurb it was initially released with:

“Surrounded by enemies, the once-great nation of Ravka has been torn in two by the Shadow Fold, a swath of near impenetrable darkness crawling with monsters who feast on human flesh. Now its fate may rest on the shoulders of one lonely refugee.

Alina Starkov has never been good at anything. But when her regiment is attacked on the Fold and her best friend is brutally injured, Alina reveals a dormant power that saves his life—a power that could be the key to setting her war-ravaged country free. Wrenched from everything she knows, Alina is whisked away to the royal court to be trained as a member of the Grisha, the magical elite led by the mysterious Darkling.

Yet nothing in this lavish world is what it seems. With darkness looming and an entire kingdom depending on her untamed power, Alina will have to confront the secrets of the Grisha . . . and the secrets of her heart.”

And this additional very romance novel blurb that was on some other marketing material:

“Alina, a pale, lonely orphan, discovers a unique power that thrusts her into the the world of the kingdom's magical elite - the Grisha. Could she be the key to setting Ravka free?

The Darkling, a man of seductive charm and terrifying power. If Alina is to fulfill her destiny, she must unlock her gift and face up to her dangerous attraction to him.

But what of Mal, Alina's childhood best friend? Why can't she forget him?”

ALSO here is the romance heavy book trailer:

Fans of Darklina as an endgame ship will argue that this was indicative of there being an earlier romance focused version where they were intended to end up together. I… highly doubt that personally.

In all interviews, even the earliest ones, where Leigh Bardugo talks about the story and the characters and how she came up with them, she talks about it from a perspective that sounds in keeping with how the plot played out, as in, the Darkling existing to be a literal villain.

I think all this just places SaB as a Madoka Magica, or Doki Doki Literature Club type deconstruction where deceptive marketing is simply working very hard to preserve the twist.

I think the story itself engages with Twilight pretty directly. Alina, as a youthful ingenue protagonist with low self esteem, a feeling of alienation from her peers, and feeling constantly overlooked by everyone, including her childhood best friend who she’s in love with, fits into the starting point of paranormal romance protagonist really well. The question of superficial attention is even addressed by her being discovered as the Sun Summoner and having so many sudden expectations thrust upon her.

Her gaining the Darkling’s attention specifically is initially framed in a fairly similar way to The Tropes. He is the aloof hot immortal teenager, who for the purposes of the deconstruction, everyone already even knows is at least over a hundred years old. Moreover he’s essentially treated like their (desirable….) school principal lmao to just really hammer home that his opinions matter More but also to make it feel vaguely weird.

There are a lot of moments in early SaB where the Darkling singles Alina out in a way that’s meant to look flattering at face value but that she’s quietly a little unnerved by. Off the top of my head, there’s the bit where the Grisha students are arguing over who Alina will walk with (when presented to the Tsar perhaps?) and the Darkling sweeps in and is like “she will walk with me.” Obviously, when he keeps trying to single her out by allowing her to wear black, which is his personal super special color that no one else gets to wear. When Zoya, as Thee popular girl, gets called into the principal’s office and he reprimands her for shfhff breaking Alina’s ribs (I love Zoya so much), and in the way it is ostensibly a win for Alina— Zoya isn’t the favorite girl anymore— but it’s also so obvious, in a way that’s very accessible to modern teens, that he is NOT their peer. Like, in universe we know that he is their commander and has rank over everyone. But that’s a fantasy element that probably doesn’t mean much to your average teenager. Meanwhile there’s a strong 1:1 analogue for him being like a real adult in their lives, when they are deliberately framed as teenagers. And it’s genuinely unsettling!

(Worth noting that mid 2000s YA also had a fair number of uncritical teacher romances. Because in those again there is the element of the protagonist’s worth and maturity being enforced by this more experienced and cooler adult finding her desirable)

I feel like the grooming in SaB while genuinely the most integral and interesting element of the entire trilogy to me, is also in some ways the most poorly accomplished. Probably some sort of mix of debut clumsiness and what I feel like might be discomfort with the topic preventing Bardugo from really getting into it. But of the successful and subtler moments, something that stands out to me is Alina not feeling like she can talk about the Darkling kissing her by the lake. And then trying to downplay it like “he probably kisses a bunch of Grisha girls”

Like. If he is going around kissing teenaged students under his command that is WEIRD that is a RED FLAG lmao.

But Alina just doesn’t have that frame of reference! While slightly unsettled by his attention she is mostly, genuinely flattered by it. He believes in her! He doesn’t know why he cares about her opinions of him but he does 🥺🥺 She’s somehow, successfully managed to cut through his aloofness by virtue of her specialness, and seeing into his angst about making up for his ancestor’s crimes, and believing in his madcap quest to get an even specialer amplifier necklace (lol) for her so that they can save the world together! The first half of S&B follows the logic of a Twilight imitator paranormal romance very solidly.

I think it’s also really interesting how the Darkling’s scary shadow powers, and the concept of there being an ancestor/dark legacy separate from him that he supposedly wants to prove he’s better than works as an analogue for vampirism. There’s a pretty direct 1:1 of “It looks like he’s dangerous, but don’t worry it’s just a bad reputation. It’s not his fault and he feels really bad about it.” So it’s really clever imo when the reveal is that there is no ancestor, there is no separation, it was all him all along, he did it on purpose and he is not sorry! He is dangerous to her and it’s literally his own choice to be that way.

So if the Edward type is a love interest whose violence/danger is something that is inherent to him, but it’s also not his fault at all, and it’s something that can be overcome by Bella’s personal purity and goodness, the Darkling is completely the opposite.

The threat he poses to Alina is entirely of his own volition. It’s a cold and calculated choice to seduce her, and later to try to magically enslave her. Likewise it’s, in my opinion, absolutely integral to the story that his obsession isn’t with her as a person at all, it’s with what she represents. He can be faced with her, in all her vulnerability and complexity, as a genuine human being and simply not care to stop himself from wanting to hurt her or subjugate her. Her opinions and her personality do not matter.

She cannot simply love him into no longer posing a threat to her! It doesn’t work like that!

Anyway, as promised (threatened?) earlier I have some Fifty Shades of Grey thoughts pertaining to Shadow and Bone too. While Fifty Shades doesn’t have the immortal/magical aspect at all, it’s painfully blatant Twilight fanfic, and so Christian Grey still embodies this love interest type fairly perfectly.

And it’s just really interesting to read with the context of it being a contemporary example of the sort of thing SaB is riffing off of and presenting critically, where those same things here are presented to be desirable.

There is an instance in FSOG where the protagonist’s friend is warning her to be careful about the love interest— while still laughing about how hot he is. And it is simply meant to make him seem thrilling and desirable!

But it feels almost like a 1:1 with Genya warning Alina in SaB where the warning is very literal. And compare that to the direct line drawn between Genya being preyed on by the Tsar and Alina being preyed on by the Darkling. They’re very different circumstances, but when there’s the overt and explicitly stated theme of “Be careful of powerful men” I can’t see how these two plot threads existing in the same book and presented in the same breath aren’t meant to be read as in conversation with each other.

There are also similar beats during Ana and Christian’s (stilted! very clumsy!) conversations where she strongly has the vibe of a kid at the principal’s office, unsure if she’s going to be scolded, and getting very flustered every time he makes her feel special in whatever small way.

Which is very similar to early Darklina interactions. Like I said before, the grooming was definitely the weakest part of SaB even though it’s simultaneously (imo) the most interesting/important aspect. But both books being varying degrees of bad just make them even more comparable to me?

It’s just intriguing to see vaguely similar things play out with clearly different awarenesses and intent in terms of what the main takeaway from these beats is meant to be.

Also! Again as yikes as Fifty Shades replacing vampirism with BDSM is, [insert joke about Christian Grey being a shitty dom vs the Darkling’s sexually charged desire to put Alina in a magic collar and fetters, and to get her to submit to him]

Sorry this was kind of all over the place but I hope that answers your question?

[voiceoffenrisulfr]

When the Wolf Howls - Chapter One "Better To Fight and Fall Than To Live Without Hope."

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 -> James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Nonbinary Character(s). Secondary Pairings; James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton/Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 -> After a thousand discussions about Asgard, Bucky decides to take his partner to see the realm, and they come across something that they can’t leave well enough alone.

Or: Bug meets a Big Dog.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 -> 4619

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 -> (M) Mythologically-typical animal cruelty, mentions of sex (non-explicit). Multitudes references (kidnapping, torture).

𝐀/𝐍 -> If you haven't read Multitudes, some elements of the Worldbuilding will be unfamiliar to you. I suggest starting there - but this can be read as a standalone if you roll with established relationships. Check it out below, or on AO3 here!

Chapter Two ->

Dividers by us! <3

- ‘Isolation’ – @anyfandomgoesbingo (Dark); - ‘Alien Planet’, ‘Isolated or Trapped’ - @buckybarnesbingo (B049); - ‘Norse Mythology AU/Fenrir/Tragic Backstory’ – @secretcrypticevents (Creatures & Cryptids Secrets Flash); - ‘”I Can’t Let You Do That.”’ - @fandom-free-bingo (Flight Edition); - ‘Redemption’ – @seasonaldelightsbingo (Five Nights At Freddy’s);

- ‘Trapped’ – @hurtcomfort-bingo (CO42); - ‘Rescued or Hostage’ - @julybreakbingo (7x7) (both applicable); - ‘Faster-Than-Light Travel’ – @multifandom-flash Bingo (Astronomy Day + National Space Day); - ‘Crying Wolf (Bonus)’ – Multifandom Flash Round 2 - 1027; - ‘Pain’ – Pick Your Poison Bingo (CO26); - ‘Chronic Pain’ – Pick Your Poison Bingo (CO27).

The first time I took Bug to Asgard, they were breathless from the moment they landed, staring up at the gold-clad Heimdall in wonder.

“I’ve heard a lot about you, Bug,” the Guardian of the Gate rumbled ominously, his golden eyes set on my partner as they swallowed nervously. Thor glanced between Bug and his gatekeeper with a smirk, just as Heimdall’s face finally broke into a grin, hand extending. “It’s good to meet you at last.”

Bug reached out with trembling fingers, their hand vanishing amongst his, eyes comically wide. “Hi,” they squeaked, before blushing and clearing their throat. “You… You’ve heard about me?”

The Guardian chuckled, glancing at the God of Thunder pointedly. "You're a part of the team, are you not? The Prince speaks of you highly and often." 

They flushed crimson, scuffing their feet as they looked down shyly. "The Prince of Asgard talks about me..."

I snorted, kissing their head gently. "Is it any wonder? You're awesome. I talk about you constantly, too." My gaze flicked to Heimdall, and we exchanged a cursory nod. The Guardian was nice enough, but his capacity to see and hear everything across the Nine Realms was that something that could not sit quietly with me. There was nobody in this world – myself included – who knew everything I’d done, save the stoic Gatekeeper. The idea that he knew more of my greatest sins than even I did meant that I could never quite look him in the eye, even if he had never been anything but civil with me, in his own formal way.

That, and he’d definitely seen me fucking. Even the really weird stuff.

I felt heat rise in my cheeks at the memory of the night before, and Heimdall quirked an eyebrow minutely, making my flush grow darker. “We-” I cut myself off as my voice cracked, making the Guardian’s lips twitch infinitesimally, and I cleared my throat before pushing onward. “We, uh… We realised that Bug here had never seen Asgard. Given the time we’ve spent here… It seemed important.” My tone had dropped to a pained murmur, the amusement and embarrassment falling from our faces at the memories. While some of the time we’d spent here had been full of joy and laughter, my thoughts – and doubtless those of the people around me – turned immediately to the aftermath of my daughter’s birth and the events that followed, almost unravelling everything we’d all worked so hard to gain.

Bug squeezed my hand, gentle and reassuring, and I offered them a grateful smile. “I’m okay,” I murmured, pressing a soft kiss to their temple. It had been eight years now – but they knew I still woke in the night sometimes, pale and coated in sweat, breath coming hiccups as I remembered Loki holding Lia close to his chest, her desperate cries when he vanished, and her teeth closing around the muscle at my neck as she fought to free herself and return to his side.

But every time I woke, there they were, ready to reassure me that everyone was safe – that the Spiders were tucked up with Steve and Clint, and that my daughter was contentedly snoring away in the room she shared next door with her brother.

With a hard shake of my head, I banished the thoughts of darkness and ice, grasping my lover’s hand tighter in mine. “I wanted to show them the city, the palace… There are some beautiful sights out here.”

Heimdall nodded slowly, his inscrutable, calculating gaze on us. “Don’t wander too far,” he warned softly, an unexpected gravity to his voice. “You know better than most how easily one can lose themselves.” Thor simply waved a hand in gratitude, leading the way off along the rainbow bridge that joined gate and city, Bug dragging me along insistently in his wake with a joyful skip in their step.

We were halfway along the bridge before I looked back, Heimdall’s ominous warning still ringing in my ears and the hair on the back of my neck standing at attention. The Guardian was still watching us closely, enormous sword hanging loosely at his side, golden eyes unsettlingly serious as he gazed at our retreating forms.

“So, how was your first trip through the Bifrost, Small One?” Thor asked as we reached the outskirts of the city, glancing down at my partner trotting along eagerly beside him, their head barely reaching halfway up the God’s bicep.

“Surreal,” they chuckled, shaking their head, ringlets in their short ponytail bouncing with the motion and making me smile. My fingers reached out of their own volition to tweak the curls gently and Bug – Mars, to those who knew the face between the olive-green mask – shot me a grin, well aware of my adoration for the juxtaposition of their silver-streaked strands naturally contorting into an array of child-like spirals, and they tossed their head pointedly, fingers finding mine and holding tight. “I’d heard about it, but… I can’t believe how beautiful it was. So many colours…”

Thor smiled indulgently, shrugging a shoulder. “I suppose after a long lifetime, some of the wonder wears off,” he admitted with a chuckle. “But this… This never stops being breathtaking.” His eyes rose to the shining beauty of the Royal Palace of Valaskjalf, pale blue glittering with deep adoration.

Bug nodded in silent awe, gaze trailing the unique lines up to the towering peak, pupils wide and wonderous. “It’s incredible,” they whispered, hand clutching mine a little tighter as they glanced toward me. “You stayed here?” they clarified incredulously, and I snorted, nodding.

“Yeah… For quite a while, in the end,” I agreed, arm draping over their shoulder. “It really is a magnificent place – and so much to see,” I added, nudging them forward affectionately, their steps having grown sluggish as they looked around in wonder. With a happy blush, they picked up the pace, shooting me a teasing grin.

Of all the wonders the palace held, the vault captivated me the most, the secrets and creations held within offering endless stories and epic sagas of dwarves and frost giants and heroic battles in a far-off land.

But for Bug, I knew there was one place that would be far more captivating.

We’d started with the worst, requested quietly and without glamour. We visited the dining hall where we’d almost lost Lia, the bedroom Clint and I had shared with our daughter while we scoured the realms for our missing Spiders, and the gym where Lia had summoned the phantom of her forsaken love. The garden where her teeth had torn flesh from my shoulder in feral desperation was just as bright and warm as it had been then, but I shivered at the memory, Bug’s hand squeezing mine hard as I pointed out the wall she’d scaled in her frantic escape.

We visited the cells deep beneath the palace, and Thor waited outside as Bug and I entered, speaking of Ashe and their bravery in risking their life – or worse – to finally put an end to the Trickster’s torment and tyranny. The sterility, the lack of blood, shocked me, though it shouldn’t; there’d never been any in the first place. The only sign that the events had ever transpired at all was a golden, horned helmet sat on the bed of an open cell, a silent testament to what had happened in this room.

“They did a hard, horrible thing,” I noted quietly,  squatting to brush vibranium fingertips over the floor, imagining the pain seeped into the very foundations of the place. “Taking a life – especially so deliberately – even his… It never feels good, and they must have been terrified. But… I think what Lia did may have been even harder,” I acknowledged, hardly daring speak the words, my stubborn refusal to acknowledge her reality beginning to crumble just a little. “She truly loved him. And to make the choices she did – to accept that her love could only ever be used to torture those around her…” I shook my head quietly, tears building along my lash line. “She had to feel his neck break and watch the light fade from his eyes, and I don’t… I’m not certain she’ll ever truly be okay.”

Mars held me as I wept softly, the terrible truth of my worries in the years since Loki’s death finally finding voice. Their smaller frame rocked me gently and smoothed my hair, murmuring soft reassurances, and I couldn’t help but draw a contrast to the God of Mischief’s grip on the Spiders’ waiflike body, already so mistreated by the world.

But eventually I rose from the ground, damp-faced yet somewhat reassured, and we went in search of less haunted sights.

Thor regaled us with acts of bravery, of battles lost and won, as he pointed out relics and artefact the likes of which  most of humanity could barely fathom. Eventually, however, we had exhausted the contents of the vault – much to the dismay of an enraptured Bug – and the God of Thunder and I exchanged a knowing glance.

“I have business to attend to – a Prince’s job is never done, after all. I’m sure you know your way around well enough by now to find anything else that may be of interest to you. Come and find me when you’re done; I’d love to hear what you think of my home, little Bug.”

Thor excused himself with an unusual degree of grace, and I rolled my eyes fondly behind my partner’s back before slipping my hand once more into theirs. “C’mon, my love. I can think of one more thing I’d like to show you.”

Their eyes were abyssal as they gazed about themselves in wonder, mahogany almost entirely overtaken by onyx in their excitement.

“Holy shit,” they breathed, and I snorted.

“‘Holy’ is a stretch – but I guess Thor is technically a god,” I noted with a chuckle, though my words fell on deaf ears. There was no communicating with my beloved now – not when they were so single-mindedly enraptured.

“Holy shit.”

I laughed, head cocked adoringly, reaching forward to tug lightly on those curls once more. “Remember to breathe, please…”

They sucked in a deep, deliberate lungful, eyes flickering with an intense pleasure. “It smells so good…”

Snorting, I pulled out a chair from under the table beside us, dropping into it with a light-hearted sigh of resignation. “This is where we spend the rest of the day, I’m assuming?”

Their gaze finally flicked to me at last, reluctantly tearing their eyes away from the endless, towering bookcases, shelves bowed under the weight of ancient knowledge. “Day?” they clarified, the hairpin curve of their lips quirking in amusement. “You’ll have to pry my cold, dead corpse from this place, my love. I’m never leaving.”

I’d laughed at their quiet, steady declaration… But as evening rolled into night, and candles were lit, they showed no signs of slowing.

For a while I had simply watched, bemused, as they struggled with the enormity of the informational wealth offered to them, muttering that it would take a hundred lifetimes to even make a dent in so many books. When their eyes started to shift more erratically, fingers tapping out stucco beats on their forearm, I stepped in, their light-hearted complaints threatening to tip into an overwhelmed, indecisive panic. Their gaze found mine as I took their hands, offering them a soft smile. “This is for you to enjoy, sweetheart,” I reminded them gently, forehead resting against theirs. “Nobody could read everything here, no matter how much time they have. So… Just pick something that catches your eye, yeah?” I pressed a tender kiss to their temple, and they smiled up at me shakily, nodding.

“Okay.”

Despite this, however,  I was practically hemmed into my seat by piles of books. They’d narrowed it down to one category, they’d argued – but given that the category in question turned out to be ‘Asgardian History’, there was extraordinarily little they couldn’t see scope to include.

I’d attempted to lose myself in more fictional adventure, but the warmth of the fire raging in the hearth combined with Bug’s soft breaths and intermittent gasps of wonder had my eyes drifting closed. As fascinating as the facts with which they regaled me were, I was no match for the comforting embrace of sleep wreathing around me, and I let my head fall back against the high back of the seat, resigned to my fate.

I slept lightly, occasionally stirring at another delighted exclamation from my partner, simply smiling fondly without opening my eyes before letting my slumber reclaim me. They seemed contented enough to amuse themselves with their books – and after all the time they’d spent over the years encouraging me to rest, they rarely disturbed my sleep if they could help it, never denying me a few hours where possible. I felt guilty, on occasion  - after so long with so little time to relax, I now found myself sleeping almost too easily, prone to passing out in front of a movie or while cuddled up on the sofa – but they simply smiled and waved away my apologies, content to amuse themselves while I dozed.

And so it was here, with their occasional murmurs and mutterings and movements reassuring me of their contentment, that I found myself asleep once more, feet crossed at the ankle and the vibranium offering a comforting warmth against my chest. I listened out each time I was stirred, checking for any sign of distress, but there seemed to be only wonder and excitement, their voice occasionally cracking as it rose with glee, stumbling over words as they read passages aloud to themselves.

It was dark when I next woke.

The fire was smouldering in its hearth, glowing embers still throwing residual heat that told me it hadn’t been long since the flames had died. Most candles were extinguished, with those that remained sitting low on the wick and flickering warningly at the encroaching flood of molten wax in their microcosm.

It was dark, and I was alone.

Books still laid splayed across the table before me, and I moved silently, muscles bunched, senses at attention, every fibre of my being casting out into the room around me for some explanation or indication as to what had transpired during my rest.

My fingertips passed over an open page, and I hesitated, glancing down. A hand-drawn sketch stared back, my hand resting against the jowls of a large, salivating wolf, dark lines following wrinkled creases of a snarl and the tapered, razor-sharp canines as long as my thumb.

The page was still infinitesimally warm along those same lines – traced in fascination before my lover’s apparent disappearance, no doubt. This would have enraptured them, a fierceness burning in the gaze staring out from the page that was both terrifying and alluring, captured with a realism that photography could never depict.

But this told me nothing of where my previously present Bug had absconded to, and I slammed the book closed with a feral snarl that would put the beast itself to shame.

Logic told me not to worry; my lover was notorious for their gnat-like attention span. Experience, however, had taught me that nothing in Asgard was ever simple, and that the worst of nightmares could come true here.

I turned on my heel, hands curling into automatic fists my sides, a growl rumbling in my chest. But no sooner had I taken a step towards the doors than they slammed open, books trembling on their shelves with the force.

“-entirely unacceptable! I welcomed you into my home, gave you free rein to explore, and set aside a significant portion of my time to show you around, and you dare-”

“-let this happen, and go on for so long? It’s barbaric! I can’t believe you; I always thought you were a good guy, but I guess I-”

“-don’t know anything about how things work around here; you speak of events that transpired long before your birth, and you cannot-”

“-no better than Odin! You’re no better than your brother!”

The silence that followed the echoing declaration was all-consuming, and the god took a half-step back, eyes wide and appalled. I moved quickly to step between the pair, a hand extended toward each heaving chest. “That’s enough! What the hell is wrong with you both? What could possibly warrant this behaviour? You’re teammates – friends, even! What are you-”

“Ask him,” Mars snapped, despair creeping into their tone beside the anger. “Ask him what he’s been party to for almost his entire life. Ask him what he did – what he continues to do, every single day!” They shook their head in disgust, turning away to snatch the book I’d been assessing from the table and press it into my hands. “Or even better, you can read all about it. It’s all in there. Their self-fellating account of their crimes.”

With a frown, I turned back to the page with the image of the snarling wolf, pausing only briefly at the illustration before turning my attention to the words opposite.

As I read, my horror grew.

It was an account of Fenris – Fenrisulfr, or the Fenris Wolf, the book explained. Loki’s son, borne of his union with the jötunn Angrboða, and the youngest of the pairs’ three offspring. Each of the trio were fated to play a role in Ragnarök - the fabled end of the nine realms as predetermined throughout Asgardian history - and so the Asgardians took action to neutralise the threat. The oldest, Jormungandr – also known as Miðgarðsormr, the Serpent of Midgard – was cast into the World Sea, an ouroboros encircling the realm of humans. The middle child, Hel, ruled over the domain of the same name in Niflheim, which acted as the final resting place for those of non-Heroic death.

And then there was the youngest. The great wolf who, even as a pup, incited such fear amongst the gods that only one dared feed him. Týr, a war god known for law and justice, was known to the wolf – trusted, it seemed. But as the wolf grew, so too did the gods’ anxieties, and they planned to trap the creature and end the threat he posed.

They proposed a test of strength, to which the wolf agreed. He was bound, but broke free of the fetters easily. Time and again the wolf freed himself, and the gods despaired. They employed the help of the dwarves of Svartalfheim, who crafted Gleipnir, curiously light and supple and made from impossible components – the sound of a cat’s footsteps, or the breath of a fish. Impossible to know, impossible to hold – and therefore, it was thought, impossible to fight against.

Fenris was suspicious of such a seemingly delicate chain, and agreed to be bound only with a hand placed between his jaws as a gesture of good faith; it was intended as a pledge to free him, should he be unable to break his restraints. Only Týr would consent, and when the great wolf found himself trapped, he bit off and swallowed the hand that had fed him.

The wolf was transported, restrained, to a lonely and desolate island in the middle of the lake Amsvartnir, where the chain that held him was secured to a boulder, and a sword positioned vertically between his mighty jaws to keep them parted.

And there he remained – as far as anyone knew – howling ceaselessly, the drool that flowed from open maw forming the river Ván.

When I had finished reading, I stared at the final period silently. It was a horror story, pure and simple – but, as Mars had so aptly summarised, it was painted as a success, a victory of good over evil. The mighty beast could do no harm, and the gods were safe.

I slowly rose my gaze, finding Thor watching me with arms folded stubbornly over his chest, but the flicker of guilt in his eyes betrayed him his humanity. “This is barbaric,” I murmured, swallowing dryly. Bug opened their mouth to follow up with their own furious exclamation, but I flicked my eyes to them, hand raising. “It’s barbaric… But I’m not sure what can be done, Mars.”

They stared at me in disbelief, fury still creasing their features. “Wh- We have to stop this! It’s torture, James. You of all people-”

“I’m not any happier about this than you are,” I interrupted with a low, warning growl, my muscles taut. “But it sounds, by all accounts, that freeing the wolf with have catastrophic consequences. He’s dangerous, sweetheart.”

“So that means he deserves eternal agony?” they snapped, eyes burning into mine. “People once thought you dangerous, if I remember rightly. What if you’d never been given a chance to prove otherwise?” They looked between the pair of us, fury evident in their hard-set jaw. “Have none of you geniuses ever stopped to think that maybe it’s because he’s been tortured that this prophecy – or whatever – exists? That maybe by doing this to him, you’ve set in motion the events that make him want to end the world?”

Silence fell once more, all-consuming and punctuated only by their harsh, angry breathing as Thor and I glanced at one another in uncertainty and surprise. “He never hurt anyone before then, right? You were all afraid of him because of some stupid prophecy, and it seems to me that everything you did to him to avoid it only made it more likely, not less.”

“It’s too late,” Thor argued weakly, shaking his head. “Even if you’re right, it’s been a long time. Freeing him now would only act to bring about the prophecy faster.”

“Yeah, well,” they retorted, cracking their knuckles pointedly. “Your prophecy didn’t expect me.”

“Absolutely not,” I snorted, shaking my head. “Not a chance in hell. No. I can’t let you do that.”

Their face fell, expression shifting from one of grim determination to utter heartbreak. “But-”

“This creature is supposed to bring about the apocalypse and kill gods. Including, but not limited to, Odin. You know, the All-Father. The head honcho. Basically the big boss of all the gods,” I stressed, my gaze drilling into my partner’s. “What chance do you have? You’re just a human.”

The second the words left my mouth, I winced, jaw closing with an audible click as their face hardened and turned expressionless. “I didn’t mean-”

“You’re right,” they interrupted, their tone clipped and cold. “You’re right. I’m just a human. This isn’t my world.” They looked about themselves, taking in the colossal library with an air of finality, before turning that mahogany gaze, once blazing with joy, back to me. “I’d like to go home now, please.”

I stretched out a hand as I stepped closer, flinching. “Acushla-”

With a hard shake of their head, they moved back, arms wrapping protectively around their waist. “Take me home, Bucky.”

The silence between us was painful as we traversed the shimmering bridge of light once more, but I’d run out of things to say in my desperate attempts at starting a conversation.

Heimdall was waiting for us, golden eyes impassive.

Of course he knows. He knows everything.

His gaze locked on theirs once more when their hand disappeared between his, a look passing between the pair as he offered them a courteous nod. “I’m sure I’ll see you soon,” he murmured, and I frowned minutely.

“Can’t imagine we’ll be back for a while,” I muttered, jaw set.

Coming here had been a mistake. Nothing good ever came of this place.

The moment we arrived back at the farm, the Bifrost carving an unintelligible pattern into our grass, Mars stormed off, ignoring me as I called after them.

The front door opened, Arrow barrelling into the yard to greet me, my husband stood at the threshold. Clint cocked his head in confusion as Bug pushed past him, turning his eyes to me. “… Good trip?”

Snorting, I pushed a hand through my hair, thoroughly exhausted. “I’m really starting to hate that place.”

With a weak smile, he moved towards me, pulling me into a gentle, comforting hug. “How about we go for a walk, hm?”

“… But I don’t think I’m being unreasonable, not wanting to get involved in this, right? It’s dangerous. I just want them to be safe.”

We were still within sight of the farmhouse, and I looked back with a worried frown, expression softening a little at the sight of my daughter and Nat giggling at the chickens pecking in their run. “We’ve all been through so much,” I murmured, smiling as Artemis knelt in the dust, fingers poking through the wire to pet one of her many feathered friends. “Everyone’s finally safe. Is that too much to ask?”

“No,” he assured me quietly, hand sliding into mine to offer a reassuring squeeze. “It isn’t. After everything this family has had thrown at it, I think it’s a pretty damn reasonable desire.” His eyes moved to the upper windows, and he frowned softly. “But… I don’t know Mars as well as you do, obviously. But I know they’re determined, and stubborn when they need to be. They’re like the Spiders in that way,” he added, glancing at our wife with a snort. I couldn’t help but chuckle my agreement, considering Nat as she leaned over the low fence, laughing in unison with the miniature version of her cooing at her hens. “I think you should let them go.”

My gaze snapped to his, narrowing sharply. “What are you-”

“If you don’t, they’ll never forgive you,” he replied simply, shrugging. “This is important to them. You know that, James.”

Jaw closing with a soft click, I scowled at him, fingers curling into fists by my sides. He was right, of course; I already knew that. I’d told him about our disagreement in the hopes that he’d be able to reassure me that they wouldn’t resent me for it, but it seemed my desires had been in vain. He was watching me with gentle, apologetic eyes, and my expression faded as I sighed. “You’re right.” I sat, defeated, on the low brick wall bordering the flowerbeds Ashe had worked tirelessly on. “Of course you’re right. I’m just- I can’t risk anything happening to them, Clint.”

Tears pricked along my lash line as he sat beside me, arm encircling my waist to pull me against him. “I know, sweetheart,” he murmured, lips skimming my hair. “But if you don’t let them go, you might lose them. I suppose all you can do is try to keep them safe.” I could feel his gaze on Nat and Artemis as Lia skipped from the house to join them, our son giggling in her arms. “That’s all we can ever do.”

I hummed my agreement, leaning into his shoulder gratefully as I watched this part of our family laughing and playing easily. “… I should go apologise, huh?”

He chuckled softly, squeezing me against him. “Yeah, probably.”

My knuckles made a harsh sound on the wood, and I flinched, recoiling instinctively from the din, deafening in the silence. “Mars? Honey? Are you- Can I come in?” Pausing, I waited for a response, frowning minutely when none came. “Buglet?”

I pushed the door open cautiously, apprehensive about disturbing them if they’d rather be left alone. But our bed lay made and empty, with no sign of life save a piece of crumpled paper resting on the sheets. My fingers shook as they snagged the note, fearing the worst – but even my concerns couldn’t have prepared me for what was coming.

J,

I can’t leave him like that. I’m sorry.

[l4ndojpg]

Whumptober 2023, Day 7: "Can you hear me?"

fandom: criminal minds | characters: spencer reid (centric), emily prentiss, jennifer jareau, derek morgan, penelope garica | ship: past spencer reid/maeve donovan | trigger warnings: mentions of drugs/drug use, depression | content: post 8x12 'zugzwang,' spencer's isolation, team as a family | word count: 1k.

Spencer has this vivid memory from when he was eleven years old. All of his memories are vivid, to be fair, but this one stands out in particularly stark contrast to others. His mother has been suffering from a bad episode and hadn’t spoken to him for several days, no matter how hard he’d tried to get her attention. So he’d gone about his days as he always did: alone. One of the first lucid moves Diana had made all week was to come out into the kitchen as Spencer was pouring himself a bowl of cereal on Saturday morning. She sat down across from him, taking his hands in hers. He waited patiently for her to speak, eyes searching hers for reassurance she was alright. After a moment, she sighed. 

“It’s so dark in here, Spencer,” was all she’d said, voice quivering. “It hurts.”

At the time, he hadn’t been sure what she’d meant. Throughout his life, there had been moments of darkness: his mother’s episodes that were growing in frequency, his father leaving, the way the kids at school - all so much older - treated him. However, it wasn’t until he was trapped in a shack in Georgia, the smell of burning fish and blood and sweat and fear and drugs, that he really thought he understood what his mother had meant when she referenced inner darkness. 

And yet, if Spencer had the option of being back in that shack over being stuck in his house now, unable to move or eat or sleep or exist for paralyzing grief, he’d take the shack in a heartbeat. This pain, he’s sure, is what his mother had been referring to. He’s never hurt so badly in his life. 

Maeve. 

Even thinking her name makes him feel like he’s suffocating. Thinking about how he was too late. If he’d been quicker, smarter, more believable - she’d still be here. They’d be together. He’d be happy. 

Instead, he’s alone. He’s dying. He clings to The Narrative of John Smith, switching between crying so hard he forgets how to breathe to being so numb he can’t feel a thing. He doesn’t know what day it is, what time it is, how long it’s been. He definitely ate something, but then he threw it up. His mouth tastes terrible and his lips are so chapped and dry they’re starting to bleed. The headache that started up the moment Maeve had been taken from him gets worse by the hour. Sleep isn’t even a relief because each time he closes his eyes, the sickening shot rings out and images of her body haunt him. 

So he sits. 

And hurts. 

And hates it more than anything. 

“Spence,” JJ’s voice is outside the door. She sounds far away, much further away than the one wall that’s between them. He heard her coming up the stairs, speaking in a low voice to Morgan. He’s sitting near the door. She knocks gently. “Spence, can you hear me?” 

He can’t summon the energy to reply. 

“Kid,” Morgan says, voice softer than he’s ever heard it. “Can you just - say something,” he begs. “Please. Just tell us you’re safe.” 

Spencer exhales shakily and summons every inch of his being, raises a hand, and taps twice in quick succession. 

“Thank you,” JJ says quietly, and after a moment, they leave. Spencer listens to their footsteps fade away and feels tears start to fall down his cheeks. Alone again. 

After that, someone comes by everyday to check on him - to ask him for some sort of signal he’s alive. He knows they’re worried he’s overdosed or something, but frankly, he doesn’t even have the energy to go get any dilaudid, let alone take it - no matter how bad he wants some. Penelope always comes by, no matter what. She leaves food outside, and sometimes he gets it after she leaves if he’s feeling particularly brave. It all tastes like cardboard and he can never manage more than a few bites, but he does it - for them. For the others. He imagines the breaks between other people coming by are when they’re on cases. He wishes he could help. He wishes for the most gruesome, awful, horrible murders out there to be true, if it meant he could be there with his team and not feeling any semblance of the pain he’s drowning in right now. 

He jumps, his phone buzzing him out of the stupor he’s in, moments after Penelope’s left another huge gift basket outside his doorway. He’s prepared to let it ring out, as he has spent the last however long doing, but something gets the better of him. Something feels… different. He sighs, gathers himself from where he sits by the door, and ambles slowly over to the couch, feeling every ache in his muscles tenfold. 

‘Emily - work number’ is calling him. 

Emily is calling him. 

He considers not picking up for a moment, but curiosity gets the better of him. What if she’s in trouble? What if she needs him? 

“Emily,” he says, voice sore and scratchy from lack of use. 

“Spencer,” she breathes, voice soft. “Hey.” 

“Hi.” 

“How - I - I mean-,” she stumbles, and Spencer braces himself for what’s coming. Someone told her what happened. He clenches his teeth and blinks back tears. “I’m so sorry,” she eventually settles on, and Spencer sighs shakily. He wants to tell her it doesn’t help, he wants to scream that no matter how many sorrys he gets, it won’t bring Maeve back. But taking in Emily’s voice stops him. He remembers going through these exact motions two years ago, when he thought she was the one who was dead. 

“I miss you,” he says finally, and his voice cracks. 

“I miss you too,” she says, and her voice sounds wet with tears. “I wish I could be there for you right now.” 

“This - is enough,” he chokes. “Thank you for calling.” 

“Of course,” she says. “Of course.” 

It is still dark in his apartment. The curtains are still drawn. 

But maybe everything hurts just a tiny bit less.

[bloodgutsanengelskiss]

This is a part 2 / chapter 2

Link to chapter 1 :

https://www.tumblr.com/bloodgutsanengelskiss/753097199935717376/cherryvanillacola-archive-of-our?source=share

Ao3 account:

Scarlet Secrets

--

Fandom: Criminal minds

Relationships: Spencer Reid / Elle greenaway , Spencer Reid & Elle greenaway

Tags/ warnings : drugs | drug use | drug addictions ( not in this Chapter but main plot point ) | (drinking addiction in a later chapter too) | hurt Spencer Reid | hurt Elle greenaway | they both need hugs | sometimes they get them ,sometimes they don't | unsub team Elle and spencer | major Charecter death | graphic depictions of violence

Synopsis: Spencer Reid struggles with his addiction and isolation after being kidnapped and Elle is the only one looking out for him ( oh and she has a secret, a really big one )

A/N: This is my first ever uploaded multiple-chapter work and English isn't my first language so I'm extremely open to criticism, hope you enjoy it!!

--

Chapter 2 : unkown

A/N : sorry for the probably super boring short chapter ,I PROMISE the next 2 are so much better ,longer (like alot longer) and exciting!

--

Spencer walked into the FBI headquarters, heading towards the conference room a little too quickly and accidentally bumping into someone; Emily

He mumbled an apology under his breath and tried to move past her, but she blocked his path.

"What's wrong?" Spencer asked in frustration and confusion.

"What's wrong with you, Spencer? You've been acting weird lately. I've never seen you like this," Emily asked out of genuine concern.

"Oh really, Emily? In all the months you've known me, you've never seen me act this way? No offense, but you really have no idea what you're talking about, do you?" His tone was sharp and defensive.

Emily stood there, shocked, but her expression quickly turned to one of pity and empathy. She knew something was wrong, but it wasn't the time to push him.

Spencer walked away and into the conference room, passing JJ, who stood at the door.

Emily and JJ exchanged a worried look as Emily followed him in.

"We have a new case," JJ announced once everyone had sat down.

"This is Jason Adams. He was found dead five months ago in a dumpster in an alley." She gestured towards the photos on the screen. "He was badly beaten with what looks like someone's bare hands and a bat. His genitals were mutilated as well."

"He was found in a bad area. Is he homeless or a drug addict ?" Hotch asked.

"No, that's the thing. He and two other victims, Brian Miller; found 2 months ago and Mark Davis; found yesterday, are extremely wealthy men. They were most likely killed at a secondary location or brought there," JJ explained.

"The public has done some of our work for us and figured out the motive. They've even given the killer a name: 'The Vengeful Vigilante,'" JJ continued.

"But they don't have criminal records," Garcia remarked.

"That's the thing. The public assumes that because these men were notoriously awful people with multiple lawsuits against them—lawsuits including rape and assault charges that were never followed up on—this much the local police figured out " JJ said.

"They obviously didn't get charged with anything," Spencer muttered.

"Yeah," JJ replied reluctantly.

"Our killer is also extremely smart, he crosses state lines, which is why we're only now being invited.

Though the last and first murders were in Quantico , so we'll be staying here"

"No wheels up this time," Hotch remarked

On the way back home, Spencer sat quietly in a taxi (of course he wouldn't let himself drive, even though the effects were mostly gone, he knew the drugs would still show up if tested) lost in thought, he didn't want to go back home.

--

Next chapter link :

[twiceasfrustrating]

In Her Lonely Tower

Rating: General Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: Gen Fandom: Fire Emblem: Fates Relationships: Corrin & Jakob Characters: Corrin, Jakob Additional Tags: Corrin (she/her), angst Summary: Jakob waits as a silent observer while Corrin waits day after day for word from outside her tower. Each day wears her down little by little and he can only be there to pick up the pieces as she falls apart. Word Count: 650

She had been hidden away at the top of a cold, lonely tower like some fairytale of old and, much like those same tales, she may have bore the title of Princess, but she was more of a bobble kept safely at the back of the top shelf that her father refused to touch or look at. Clearly, he expected nothing more from her than to wait patiently for his approval after the blisters from her sword training had long popped and calloused over to prove she was more than just another princess; that she was a warrior that he could command and manipulate across the battlefield. If that was his intention, however, he'd chosen a poor method to break her spirits.

Rather than breaking her will and making her more malleable to Garon's machinations, her endless isolation only made her more determined to escape her situation. She took her brother Xander's training to heart and sharpened her mind as much as her blade by them. Her other siblings she used as a means to keep from going mad while trapped inside the tower's oppressive dark walls, delighting in their stories and company. They could not be with her forever though and that is where Jakob's services were of the most need.

When her beloved siblings were gone and she was too exhausted to lift her sword anymore, he would be the one to keep her from feeling the crushing loneliness that consumed her life. It was usually no more than a comforting smile that he'd placed solely for her sake or an acknowledgment that he was still at her side, but it was often enough. And when it wasn’t? When it wasn’t, he would lie beside her in bed and hold her close while they both pretended there were no tears falling down her face that rocked her to sleep.

He'd dedicated his life to his mistress long ago, but that did not make her situation any easier to deal with for either of them. If anything, it was a chain that bound her to the bars of prison her family had thrown her into and that meant he was as much their prisoner as she.

"Xander should have been here by now," Corrin muttered quietly as she stared at the melancholy reflection in her neglected cup of tea. "Do you suppose he's decided to forgo seeing me this time?"

"I doubt that quite greatly, Milady." He took the untouched cup from in front of her and exchanged it for a fresh one. "Your brother would never forget his important engagement with you."

She didn't acknowledge his words in any way other than picking up her teacup and pressing the rim against her bottom lip to take a sip.

If Jakob could put her mind at ease with a few words, he gladly would. If reminding her that her brother had never once failed to visit her in all the time she'd lived in isolation from the family that claimed to love her would put a smile back on her face, he would remind her every morning when she woke up and every night before she went to bed. But he knew that his words would be meaningless against the weight of her own anxieties and fears.

"Maybe his horse needed to rest and it set back his arrival time."

"A reasonable hypothesis," he acknowledged her efforts to lift her own spirit.

Even so, she still did not look his way. Her eyes remained on the room's exit in the hopes that someone would soon come through the door to let her know about her older brother's arrival. 

He stood just behind her, awaiting the moment she needed anything he could offer her. Even if what he could offer was limited. Even if all he could offer was his presence so that her prison was a little less lonely.

[theramblingsofadork]

⋆｡°✩ Mini Update: ⋆｡°✩

UPDATED: Hey. So I’m not back yet, but I did want to deeply apologize for being so emo and cringe in my last two posts. Like— yikes. I feel very embarrassed I posted all of that, and admit I probably have some deeper issues I need to work through.

(_ _ 💧

While the feelings expressed were (are) still very real, I hate looking back and seeing myself being that internet person who brings down the mood to such a depressing degree like that. I may be going through a rough time IRL which doesn’t help my confidence, but even so. This was supposed to be a happy account, with happy things, and it’s my bad that it didn’t remain that way. ✋ I’m going to do my best if I go forward to not do that any more.

In other news.. in my short time away already, I did manage to successfully pin down exactly why I was having such frustrations. And the clarity helps a lot. (You’re welcome to skip the next half if you want.)

1. I’ve felt very isolated and like I will never be able to fit into in this fandom for almost a year now.

— As someone who is used to being open about my interests and often hangs out in group chats with other fans, this is the first time I’ve felt isolated because of my hyperfixation on Starline and my want to write his redemption story. Almost everyone was cold or uninterested after hearing my excitement over him, and for a while I didn’t understand why.

Then I read Imposter Syndrome. And I understood. They’re very valid for hating him.

However, my hyperfixation over him didn’t go away, nor did my desire to write out a happier ending for him and my OC. A better ending where they could both be happy and become better people.

But with hatred over people with certain favorite characters being rampant in the fandom at the time, I was sure my happy end AU would make people come for me too. That they would think I was a morally bad person and should be ashamed for ever daring to consider shipping Rivet with him, much LESS give him a happy ending on top of that.

So, I was pressured to isolate and keep everything a secret, even from my friends. Make a new account where I was practically unknown. Where I could write my story and draw my fluffy art without having to worry about nuking my main if it all blew up in my face. And it worked for a time!

2. But then, I began to fear not meeting fan expectations.

— I was nervous but tentatively excited when people started noticing and liking my art and the AU. Surely his fans could enjoy this story! I wanted to make you all proud, and do Starline justice at the same time!

…But, I soon realized that I got some things about Starline’s personality wrong in the story. And suddenly, a new fear blossomed. A fear that if I ‘butchered’ his character in any way, or took away that haughty, arrogant confidence people adore him for, (even if it was for a good ending!) that his fans would start to turn on or give me a cold shoulder too.

*(Seeing as I was in a very bad spot at the time, with the AU being the only patch of happiness in my life, that thought terrified me. (And yes, I know it’s sad if an AU is the only positive thing someone has going for them, but we all do whatever we can to keep going.)

So, I’ve tried to quietly change things from what I envisioned to hopefully please the few consistent regulars I had who most likely had a specific vision of where I was going. Tried to gauge reactions based on my few likes, (or lack of likes), and adjust things accordingly, even if it made me more stressed. :’^)

…Needless to say, it… hasn’t worked out very well lol. I still did the exact thing I didn’t want to do, and have made a massive fool of myself. ^^; I’m big enough to admit it.

Honestly, I think… if I had just been brave enough to stick with my original story and not been afraid to be OOC or of people’s opinions on my writing, we probably wouldn’t be here now. In this awkward “should I stay or go” stage. But, we all live and learn. 🎸

Which, of course leads us to the present. Where does this leave us?

I still don’t know.

My revisions to make this into a story I think the fandom would prefer aren’t working, and I’m not sure my brain’s going to be able to come up with anything that will.

I still love the concept though, and will fight to the death to give Starline a better ending, so don’t think I’m ready to hit the delete button on this account yet.

…Nor am I sure if I have the guts to just write him OOC so the story can work.

(Honestly— you brilliant people out there who write crazy, dramatically different AUs and have no fear about it, I give you kudos. Y’all are legendary. ✨)

So for now, I’ll go return to my shadows and work on other things. Maybe focus on my characters’ canon for a bit, or take up fishing with Big and go live in the tundra as a monk instead. 🤣 Who knows? The future is wild.

If you’ve somehow made it this far, thanks. If I come back, I’ll try my best to make sure I make up for all this and just do the fun art you came here for.

Till next time~ 🍵

[fruityuncleskeletor]

It's really hard to feel bad for people with several million dollars in their accounts and thats just how the cookie crumbles. Like I know Katy Perry has had a rough going, but then I remember she recently sold part of her music rights for over TWO HUNDRED THOUSAND DOLLARS and I can't extend that much compassion anymore.

I could sit here and be annoyed at rich folks of all sorts 24/7. I am THAT salty.

But my takeaway from all this is that: - being financially responsible is very hard and NO fun, because my millennial brain tells me to always give in and treat myself, not caring about tomorrow, but sadly, in my case, I am Kitten and I am Daddy too. I know how empty my wallet is and will be and I refuse to go into debt to be even more miserable in the future than I am now. On one side I am crying because I want nice experiences and fun and on the other side I am crying because I would love to be able to offer myself fun and experiences and I can't. - there is a lot of shame woven into the culture of enjoying things. The whole "buy experiences not goods" can only be a thing if you have disposable income to begin with. I said earlier how I will feel left out because my friends will all get to see SKZ and I won't. But like, that's how it's always been. I haven't been on a holiday since 2009. I use my time off either to recover from work or to travel to my home country and listen to my parents be religious nuts and spew more hate than the previous time. I should be used to it by now (I'm not). I guess I am also like a rich person because I don't like paying for things. They're only nice if someone else pays for me and I don't have to worry about MY money leaving my wallet. - the way I allow myself to enjoy things, SKZ included, is rooted in some very unhealthy mechanisms which stuff like Bubble and fanfic and the fandom itself only encourage. The only reason why I am not suffering more actively is because not a single soul interacts with my writing and your asks are the first not-hate ones I received since joining the fandom one whole year ago. Until now, my writing and I used to be embraced and welcomed in every fandom. Maybe I've finally aged out of that hopeful life stage, and my pessimism is no longer palatable to younger people. Either way, that's been sad too and it's contributed to my overall despair. In the past, I always had friends to commiserate with about whatever hardships came my way, now I have no one who's as isolated and forced to be responsible as me. - the line "gave up my youth for my future" feels like a slap in the face for me because here I am - a straight A student who never partied, never did drugs, never got into trouble, only studied their ass off because the adults GUARANTEED ME that hard work pays off. Nowadays the people hiring are rich fucks who bought their diplomas online and who think everyone's diplomas are just as lacking in substance and therefore worthy of ridicule and dismissal. Earlier today I was telling a non-fandom friend that I feel I will leave my little SKZ group through the back door (heh) and quietly because I will feel too embarrassed being the only one who hasn't seen the boys live. But I am sure I will get used to that discomfort like I get used to a lot of uncomfortable things because I get more serotonin from having people to talk to than "enjoying fandom on my own" (which is some Gywneath Paltrow-level ignorant kind of advice). Honestly, I don't wanna dwell in the middle of anger, but outside of it is depression and that's even less appealing.

[wildfirehq]

character information: 

CHARACTER NAME: Becca Franko

CHARACTER FACECLAIM: Freema Agyeman 

CHARACTER AGE/DOB: November 17th, 1988

CHARACTER PRONOUNS/GENDER IDENTITY/SEXUALITY ETC: She/her/hers, cis woman, bisexual

CHARACTER FANDOM (if relevant): The 100

OC OR CANON:  Canon

IF RELEVANT, PLEASE COMMENT ON ANY IMPORTANT CANON DIVERGENCES: 

Becca never went to space to work on ALIE 2.0; after isolating the original ALIE inside of her island mansion, she moved to the Second Dawn Bunker to work on ALIE 2.0 

Eligius Corporation was not developed - while Becca had aspirations for space travel, the state of the world had more than enough issues on the ground to address, and the idea of corporatized space travel was not widely popular yet. Thus, Nightblood has not (yet) been developed.

WHERE THEY ARE CURRENTLY LOCATED & ANY IMPORTANT ALLIANCES OF NOTE: Mount Weather - The Coalition

IMPORTANT CHARACTER INFORMATION TO NOTE AND SHARE (this could be important headcanons for initial plotting, mini bios etc, supporting docs etc):

Becca was a child genius. At 10 years old, she attended Harvard University. By 18, she had received a Ph.D. and started a coding and technology company. Her hunger for knowledge is ravenous and her ability to consume it, seems to be endless.

Becca followed the trend of developing more advance AI with the purpose of doing so to improve the overall quality of life. This included exploration of the human mind and consciousness, working on developing Memory Drives but unable to find a way to safely implant them in living creatures due to radiation emitted from the device. 

After finding a biological pathway to the human consciousness, she and her co-worker developed an advance AI that they labelled ALIE. However, she recognized the lack of ethical decision making as a potential catastrophic problem with ALIE, and locked it down within the bunker on her island. 

When the Wildfire virus initially hit, Becca remained inside of the Second Dawn Bunker for several months. It was well enough stocked that she was able to do so and continue trying to build and perfect ALIE 2.0, certain that the AI would be helpful in trying to navigate a new, virus ridden world.

Becca emerged without having perfected ALIE 2.0 into a barely built Polis. She was able to integrate within them and use her unique genius to help engineering in regards to building and farming, helping to strengthen the main location of Polis. After much of the initial restructuring, she continued to access the Second Dawn Bunker to work on her research - drastically slowed by the impact of the virus and losing access to so much.

When Mount Weather is discovered, Becca is quietly hesitant to destroy it. While she does not want to continue the inhumane suffering put out by their scientists, she is deeply invested in knowing what they have found.

Once Mount Weather is taken over by the Coalition, Becca makes this her new primary location in order to take over the lab there. She spends significant time going through the research findings of the scientists who occupied it before her. She has worked to make the ways in which it could be weaponized more difficult to find. 

Becca begins working on the development of Nightblood due to previous incidences of being able to impact the development of the virus via radiation. She and a team go to her island to bring a radiation chamber to Mount Weather for the project. 

ONE SONG THAT HAS YOUR CHARACTER VIBES:  Achilles Come Down - Gangs of Youth

ooc information: 

NAME/ALIAS: Jay

AGE: 26

TRIGGERS: N/A 

[drawingducktalesducks]

I want to say I love how you nail Violet's personality when she's oft the 3rd wheel and ignored by most the fandom. You spin a calm exterior into just as much daredevil fun as the rest of team magic. Anyway praise out the way, do you ever stop to think how Violet sleeps armed ready and hoping to be attacked by mythical creature? Or in Moonvasion, Violet had Lena conjure up a mace ready to bash in skulls rather than a ranged/graceful weapon? Or how preparation for the underworld included an axe?

I think Violet is a very community-minded person with impeccable ethics who also wants to Smash Hack Break Destroy sometimes and that's valid

or to go into slightly more detail

Violet gives off a big vibe of self-awareness and self-improvement.

Does she dream of sitting quietly in a big library and reading? Yes. Does she spend all her time doing that? No, she takes a book along to a sleepover and reads it while surrounded by her friends, and she is happy to put even that book down to engage with them fully. She does not let her desire for knowledge isolate her from the people she cares about.

Does she want to know everything about this new part of the world (magic) that she never knew existed? Yes. Does she ever treat Lena, a magical shadow creature who is also a sorceress, solely as a source for said knowledge? No. She welcomes Lena into her family, makes a list of things to AVOID so as not to trigger Lena magic, suggests even stopping the sleepovers if it means nothing but danger and stress for her new sister, and very much looked ready to murder Magica in the Sorceress episode when Magica tries snatching at the amulet that was keeping Lena alive. Violet's desire for knowledge is never allowed to overrule her wish for people to feel safe.

Does Violet understand smack talk? No. Is she happy to learn it from her new, very supportive and encouraging sister, if Lena thinks its important? Yes, yes she is.

Taking all that into account, I'll posit this theory.

Violet REALLY wants to hit stuff with things. The Urge is Great. The safe and ethical outlets are few. Therefor, she can and WILL take every opportunity that comes her way, be it invading moon people or a potential visit to the underworld.

As to why she choses maces and axes specifically instead of more 'intellectual' or 'graceful' or 'brainy' options...

An axe or mace actually IS the smartest choice to her.

Allow me to weapon nerd

- Violet is not shown or hinted at to be trained in any martial art, or with any weapons. She has some athletics from the woodchucks and that's about it. > Ergo, she needs a weapon that doesn't take much skill or practice to use right. Ranged weapons, even firearms, do take practice and skill to use correctly. Melee weapons are more intuitive. Swords are versatile, but you don't need edge alignment or perfect body mechanics to hit someone with a mace and make it hurt, every angle of it is an ouchy pain stick. And while and axe does have an edge, it's a also a tool she might be familiar with from the woodchucks, and even if you hit someone with the blunt edge the result is still Very Bad. For them. - Violet is a child and has not shown any above average strength, a la Webby. She also has no magic (yet). > So what she needs is something that will multiply the strength she DOES have. A mace or axe does that, much the same way a hammer works better for knocking through stuff than your fist will. The ability to swing it two handed also reduces the amount of starting strength you need to do damage with it, and can increase the accuracy of your swings. - Since adventures can happen at any time, and involve ending up in any number of places, and since she will almost always be facing them with Lena at her side (Lena seems to prioritize protecting Violet in dangerous situations, which makes sense considering the above), and since Lena is a sorceress who's most powerful attack is a ranged magical blast... Violet trying to lug around multiple weapons, or a larger weapon like a spear, would be redundant. > With that in mind, the need for a weapon will be greatest if something gets past Lena's ranged attacks and closes distance rapidly. For that, and to make sure she won't be too impeded if she finds herself in an enclosed space, a shorter melee weapon again makes the most sense.

All that being said, she might really just like, you know smashing things. And that is, again, Valid.

.... and would fit with her being a hummingbird, actually. They, at least some of them anyway, have a reputation for reckless aggression, despite their size. I believe there was a belief in South America that the spirits of falling warriors would take the form of humming birds after death. So it could also be a meta reference that this small purple bird has a tendency towards swinging around rather intimidating weaponry.

anyway can you tell i love her lots yeah or nah

[borntolurk]

OK so mostly I use this account to lurk but I do just want to say one thing now that I keep seeing stuff about Good Omens being compared to Our Flag Means Death, often to Good Omens's detriment. Often the argument is that OFMD is so much more open in its queer love story, which is a valid thing to prefer in isolation, don't get me wrong. Now I'm going to say I'm biased, I've loved GO (the book) since high school and I watched OFMD three weeks ago for the first time, but... they're two very different shows telling very different stories, even if they star very similar lead characters.

I saw someone on Reddit say that OFMD is a Good Omens Pirate AU, which is actually a really uncannily good call, but I'd go farther- OFMD is Good Omens Pirate AU fix it fic.

What do I mean by this? Let's just put it out there- Stede is Aziraphale, Ed is Crowley. Do they live in totally different worlds? Yes. Are the sets of auxiliary characters entirely distinct from each other? Of course, though I could see a great argument for the Badminton twins as a Gabriel analogue. Are the characters not totally identical? Obviously. But the archetypes are extremely similar, the character dynamics are as well, and it's gotten to the point where I've been perusing fic in both fandoms and the similarities in dialogue between Stede/Az and Ed/Crowley have been uncanny. They just are characterized similarly, is the bottom line.

Okay, what does this have to do with it being a fix it fic? Because let's say we go with Stede-as-Aziraphale for the obvious reason that they are both blond, fussy, intellectual and enthusiastic-in-a-deeply-uncool-way people. Of course, another similarity is that they both are made deeply miserable by their families/expectations- but that just highlights one important difference. Aziraphale throughout Good Omens is more comparable to Stede in his marriage to Mary than to Stede on the Revenge. Why? Because at the start of OFMD Stede has already left.

That's huge. Taking that step to leave and separate yourself from the bad situation is a significant mindset change in and of itself, and meeting your love interest after you've already undergone this seismic shift makes you open to additional new shifts in your thinking, like falling in love with Ed (even if you don't 100% realize that that's what's happening). Stede's whole attitude over the course of S1 is "fuck it, I've already done the craziest thing there is, let's keep going crazy." Of course he'll be receptive enough to Blackbeard for all that to happen! Obviously he still has to get over his past with Mary and the kids, and his own internal mixed up stuff, but he's already started with that in basically the most dramatic way possible.

Aziraphale, on the other hand, is still completely enmeshed in a dysfunctional family right up til the end of S1. Sure, he's had his own ways of rebelling quietly, and he partners with Crowley, who incidentally has been part of his very twisted life the whole time and so they're stuck in a pattern with nothing to jolt them out of it til later. But his rebellion is quiet and in many ways half-hearted because he still does buy into the idea of heaven, he still considers himself an angel who is fighting for right and good, and he feels like Crowley has been an everpresent temptation, something to be fought against, someone who is wrong. He's never really tried to break away except in the most passive ways, and even those ways are justified to himself.

And bear in mind, Aziraphale realizes over time that to leave would be VERY dangerous. At first he thinks the danger is that he'll become a demon like Crowley, that he'll "fall"- and then once he realizes that that's far from the worst fate he could suffer, he realizes that he's in mortal (okay, maybe not the best word when talking about an angel) peril. These are people who will KILL HIM for stepping out of line, and these are people who have been shaping his opinion on right and wrong since literally the beginning of time. Not shocking that he'll be reluctant to see things differently... and yet he still DOES break away! It's an incredibly brave thing to do, especially since he and the demon he loves would have been literally killed as a result if they hadn't done some very quick thinking! He realizes that Crowley has been right all along and he leaves. And now, essentially, he's at the point where Stede starts in OFMD.

Stede, in contrast, is on the most queer-friendly (and, under his influence, basically everything-friendly) ship on the high seas, and he might not be in a world without homophobia, but Calico Jack makes clear that he's in a milieu where men having sex with men is completely normal. He has time and space to figure things out and when he does go back to Mary and the kids at the end of S1, he has to deal with the ramifications of his actions (justifiably) but those do NOT include homophobia. Instead he receives complete support on that front, even if he also gets deserved anger from Mary about him ditching them and then showing up again like nothing had happened.

That's what I mean by "fix it fic." The stories each show is telling are so different, despite starting with a similar character in a similar bind- Good Omens is the story of a man angel who is stuck in a toxic situation and needs support and a kick in the ass to make him leave it (and see the person he loves in a different light), and OFMD is the story of a man who has decided to leave a toxic situation and what happens once he does, and the mere fact that he has already made that decision to change his life leaves him open to new people to enter his heart, and for him to express that. Aziraphale is not someone remotely in a state to express himself emotionally/romantically to Crowley, and he says that himself- and it's due to the specific story in which he is situated. Stede on the other hand is placed in exactly the right position to open his heart to new things, including to love. He is what we hope Aziraphale will be able to come as he heals.

Now, you might say, who cares? This is just on a story level; on a meta level, each of these stories have writers and the writers choose exactly what happens and so it's all kind of meaningless to discuss and compare without taking into account authorial intent. And... sure, I get that. But I do think that there's value in both stories. Each story is a very different kind of love story, based on the different kinds of circumstances that the main characters find themselves in, and "how can we get this character out of his toxic situation and mindset" and "how can we allow this character to spread his wings with relative freedom" are BOTH great stories! As someone who first approached (and loved) Good Omens from the point of view of growing up in fundamentalist religion, that approach struck me from the outset as being so well done in both the book and the show; OFMD, though, showed what you can do when you've finally taken that leap, how much it can free you.

In short, they're both great, but hopefully you already knew that.

[parismystere]

(This is LONG and mostly just me being speculative and nit-picky, so sorry in advance)

I wish the actual majority of the writers for the show cared about Adrien as much as you and (probably) Melanie do 😔 There's so many interesting things around his story and character but I feel like the majority of the writers don't really care about EXECUTING it well... Like, the basis of a good idea is there and they KNOW it, but then the story just kind of falls back on that and that alone to say something interesting- like having a good idea is enough to make up for the spotty writing. "This is cool, right? This is all the character conflict and plot you were anticipating wrapped up in five minutes! It's great!" At least that's the kind of vibe I'm getting from episodes like Ephemeral and even Chat Blanc to some extent. Maybe it's just the time travel reversing everything in the end that irks me, but why bother showing us all this Adrien-centric conflict if it never actually amounts to anything? Especially not to him? I know Chat Blanc was SUPPOSED to be a big deal for Marinette, but when it's only brought up once a whole season later, it starts to look like the writers are banking on the fact that the fandom will fill in all the blanks for them as to why it's still relevant from sheer Chat Blanc hype alone. I mean, I know good writing isn't meant to be in your face and it's probably a good thing people are still able to tie clues together about characters from what we've seen so far, so there is SOME continuity in the writer's thought process, but... I don't know. I really liked Chat Blanc when it first aired and I don't doubt that it was written with a purpose, but now that we have Ephemeral where essentially the same thing happened, something's rubbed me the wrong way and I can't help feeling suspicious. At least in regards to what makes Adrien intriguing, I just get the impression that the writers are starting to use it more as bait to keep some fans watching as opposed to actually being interested in writing his character.

Oh, but going back to the execution critique since this is all one string of thought process I'm struggling to organize- why do all of Adrien's issues make him so... Mopey? It's understandable that he's going through a LOT at the moment and definitely isn't in the best head space, but when you have episodes where he's quietly resigned to things followed by episodes where he's borderline suicidal and can barely function passed his sadness, that's when the execution of his internal struggle starts getting kind of murky in my opinion. Marinette also had her own struggles this season, but even when she wasn't getting immediate help, she was never written so- I don't know, one-note? They can show me Adrien is sad and make me feel for him without filing his character down to nothing but angst is what I guess I'm trying to say. Everytime they've written Adrien sad, they REALLY wanted to let you know. Maybe he's being written more one-note than Marinette because he's NOT getting any direct help like her though and that's the point, so admittedly I might just be being kind of nit picky here. It's just that his reaction seems a bit extreme when some of the events leading up to his internal conflicts were written on the lazier side- like having Chloe denounce their friendship while in the middle of her own character assassination and just... not touching it again cause she's just evil now I guess, and making Adrien a bit of a jerk to really send the point home that he wasn't a good match for Kagami and then not really giving us his reaction to the matter. Both of these were events that further isolated him from everyone, but he doesn't even seem to care about those. Off screen he might, but what we're actually presented with comes off as a juxtaposition between every episode. So again going back to my wariness against the writer's and their actual interest in Adrien's story, I just can't get it out of my head that they know it's the POTENTIAL for Adrien's story that fans are most interested in, and are now just trying to double down on getting people worried for his character without thinking very hard about how they're going to get there. Most of the attention is still on Marinette, so a lot of the progression for his story just seems to get shoehorned in when an episode acknowledges his existence.

Don't get it wrong! I can definitely see that a lot of effort has gone into writing this season especially, and the parts where we see Adrien are definitely significant and things I look forward to! Like, I definitely complained a LOT about some pretty debatable things when in 100% honesty I doubt I could write this sort of a story any better. It's just that the story seems to be getting SO MUCH more interesting now and the writing GENUINELY improved this season, and so now I'm just sad that while the story surrounding Adrien and his family looks really cool on the outside, everytime we get focus on Adrien directly, the only things we can actually see from his character alone is stuff we have to reflect off of where we THINK the storyline is headed, and that leaves a lot of room for me to doubt when the story is getting so. Darn. Complicated. (Well, that's not entirely true... We have seen him trying to move forward with his life with Wishmaker and Glacieator 2, just kind of picking himself back up with the few things he depends on, so it's not like he's being completely written off to the side to explode later- But! I don't think that erases my point that I think the audience would seriously benefit from more episodes where we can have his perspective fleshed out a bit more clearly and a lot more THOUGHTFULLY above all else.)

Yikes... Okay, REMINDING myself that this is still written as a kid's show though, let me just grieve a little lol: I know a lot of the writing has to be on the simpler side given the demographic, but why would they give us such a complicated, lore filled plot if it's only gonna become relevant in overly hyped, poorly paced episodes randomly thrown in next to the slow burn that is the love square and Adrien's character development (neither of which I mind being slow burn btw) 😭?? It makes it so hard to tell when it's worth tuning in and when you're better off ditching the fandom for a few months and just catching up later because the show is actually a lot goofier than the fandom might have you believe.

I just... I mainly got into the show for Adrien's side of the story, and some parts of it have been getting ACTUALLY good recently now that we're finally expanding on it. However, I can't bring myself to trust that the writers will deliver on execution or that the majority of them will actually write his character seriously. They MIGHT have another banger of an idea on top of everything else that has happened this season, but it'll mean jack to me if Adrien is only given a half-assed character moment to say his character's developed for either the worse or the better. All I'm saying is that if Adrien HAS to be forced to see the body of his comatose mom again, it better have a different set up then Hawkmoth discovering his identity as Chat Noir again, cause if they do that a third time, I will know for certain that a number of these sad-Adrien moments and DEFINITELY Epheneral were written more so to keep the audience engaged as opposed to being actually plot relevant. (I know Ephemeral was a What-If but ssshhhh)

Okay, sorry for all the scrambled thoughts. I DID spam this in your inbox for a reason though. You seem to have a clearer head about all of this than I do while still being analytical, and I genuinely like the takeaways you seem to have from every episode and about every character. Like, seeing your analysis on specific moments of an episode always has me rewatching with what you've said in mind and better appreciating the story, and I absolutely adore your takeaways on the smaller details of the show regarding the differences between the French and English dubs and a number of the things you can catch in the animation like repetitive body language and other fun details. Your interpretations of all the characters themselves are my absolute favorites though, and I love love love the way you look into all the foils!! I know I ragged on the writing a lot in this ask despite this being a pretty good season with a lot of ideas I genuinely like, so I guess I want to know if ANY of what I said made sense lol. I really am facing sudden trust issues with the writers I didn't expect to pop up now of all times, and the only reason I can really think as to WHY is Ephemeral. I loved Astro-Chat, but everything else?? As I've said- bad vibes!

hello, anon! first of all, thank you for taking the time to send me this thoughtful message! i'm absolutely flattered by your compliments and def blushed a little, haha. not gonna lie, i'm a bit frazzled that someone would think of my interpretations of canon when rewatching the show! i hope that nobody takes me as an authority on any ml issue, though; i don't speak for anyone and i'm sure that many would be opposed to my takes, anyway (plus i have a feeling that they're sliiightly on the controversial side sometimes). i'm just making my weird posts, basically.

now, onto the rest of your ask:

anon, i think the thing is that we're on the same wave-length, and that wave-length is that we're character-focused people. we care about what makes characters (and as a byproduct of that, real-life people, although i guess it's a more of a chicken or egg situation) tick. we're interested in arcs and narrative weight and foils and the darkness and the goodness the despair and the hope and so on. to be honest, i don't think that's what ml is even trying to be - it's a plot-heavy show (even if that plot is the akuma of the week and nothing that affects the main characters in an interesting way) that is heavily burdened (imo) by the format it got greenlit in. as you've noticed, we have this show that demands progress and linear storytelling because of the plotlines it was built around, but then the show has to stick with the repetitive format because of unpleasant things like money and executives and networks and little children being able to tune in after their activities without keeping up with the show on a weekly basis.

to be fair, i feel like we're kind of outliers in some ways. i might dislike astruc but he is right that most of the fandom is interested in shipping and everything else is kind of pushed aside for the sake of the square (or lukanette, if you're that kind of ml fan); i personally also came for the romance, but then got too preocuppied with the other aspects of ml. but sometimes even the romance feels like an afterthought, because we just have to have that akuma part for 10 minutes of an episode, and then we learn more about alec the tv host guy than, say, nino. that's why i salted so much on ephemeral - it felt like an illogical mess that was made in order to get a specific situation to happen. and then the issue is that we have characters with very strong personalities and personal motivations, and they get shifted for whatever this week's plot is.

you are very right that the show loves to add bombs and not address them, most notably chat blanc, which is hilarious because we as a fandom spent an entire season theorizing that marinette has been pushing chat aside because of her fear of chat blanc repeating, and then ephemeral happened and it wasn't addressed at. all. marinette, girlie, worry not that your crush is a furry, worry that your crush killed you and the rest of humanity! but at this point it's such a bad episode to me that i don't even want to count it as canon. i just can't figure out what was its purpose. anyway.

in general, miraculous doesn't do feelings very well; that's why i joke that it's inherently a boy's show at heart, as the emotional impact and the interpersonal relationships constantly get pushed aside for the fighting sequences to happen. that's why glaciator 2 felt so remarkable - finally an episode that is all about feelings and communication, as opposed to an akuma, which felt like an afterthought for once. but in 99% of the case everything happens at such an insane pace we don't have time to sit with our feelings! consider alya finding out who ladybug is, something she's been obsessing over for three seasons now - if we were in alya's position, we'd probably scream for a week (and then we might be like, 'hey, what's going on between you and chat noir, girl?'), but we never got to see how alya feels about it, or any major shift in the alyanette dynamic besides alya turning into marinette's right-hand man. it sucks... but it is what it is.

now, about adrien specifically, he's the most bizarre case of a deuteragonist i've ever seen. in any other media he'd be the protagonist, given his family history, his inherent character conflicts, and so on. that's why i'm kind of baffled by the way he is written, because there is obviously 0 intention for him to be an equal level as maribug in terms of screentime and powers, and yet the most exciting, the most touching, the most emotional bits of the show revolve around him. marinette's character arc revolves around him. so in a way, how can the writers not love him when they make him so memorable and have him affect the audience so much? my friend recently told me that the most watched trailers for ml episodes are all agreste-themed episodes, and the hype about these episodes is insane, so it's obvious where the plot is. the issue is that they wanted to have their cake and eat it too, because the formulaic nature of the show doesn't mesh well with what they have going on with adrien's story.

to put it even more bluntly, it's the people who love marinette that should be worried, and they're bizzarely not, likely content for marinette to only be enmeshed in love plots. i doubt i'll ever shut up about how the main character of the show doesn't have an arc beyond 'make adrien love me' (which we know will happen as they are the endgame couple) and 'save the world'. hell, felix came in and got one of the most interesting arcs in the show in 10 minutes! i think the writing of marinette has been getting progressively worse, but people got so mad at me for saying that what happened in ephemeral was character assassination and preferred to wrack their brains for an explanation that works. i'll just link this post, written pre-s2. so in a way, i feel like us adrien enjoyers can't even complain, given how much we get in comparison! but then they also refuse to show adrien more than absolutely neccessarily, and we even get a marinette scene in the beginning of the one episode from his pov, likely from paranoia that people will forget that he's the second fiddle if we get one episode centered around him. :/ it's a mess.

anon, i don't think adrien is mopey! if he's sad all the time, you should've seen me at his age! i'm probably being super defensive here as someone whose natural disposition is to be sad, but i think him being sad is much more realistic than what some other fans of the show want him to do, like suddenly become super aggressive and demanding or whatever. it's not very riveting to watch, but it's realistic - he's a 14-year old boy living with his cold, heartless, neglectful father, he doesn't have positive adult influence in his life, he doesn't even get to see his friends outside of school. he truly has no power. i will say, though, that you are right about his characterization changing, most notably from s1 to s2, as in s1 he was shown to have more chat-like moments as adrien, plus he got of the house a lot (which even makes sense plot-wise, because we can that gabriel has become less strict as he's too absorbed in his villain life). but s2 was such a tone shift, so i personally tend to view post-s1 as more canon, as bizarre as it sounds.

now, i think your issue is about adrien's agency in the show, how it gets developed, if it would happen, and so on. and that's understandable! i flip-flop about my feelings about how the show is handling him weekly. i don't think we should expect him to pick a few fights with gabriel and gabriel immediately to step back and rethink his treatment of his son - that's unrealistic. no abused child at home can benefit from this. and at this point i think they're going for some 'innocent lamb' angle with adrien, as everybody in the show tends to hide something from him - his family about their secrets, marinette and the classmates about marinette's crush on him, ladybug about, well, a lot of things, and so on. but i'm also very bitter like you that we keep getting the 'adrien has to be lured to find out about emilie' plot over and over again, but i'm a hopeful person and i want to believe that when it happens for real, it would be because of his own initiative? but also, the show kept getting greenlit for more and more seasons (personally, i feel like if you want to tell ml as tightly as possible, three season is the sufficient ideal length), and we're now in the final stretch - we have 30 episodes until the end of the agreste arc. if they're going to build up adrien's agency, now is the time, and i guess i have hope that is what we're gonna see! after all, if i know one thing about miraculous, is that the plot always moves when he does. he can't wander around his house, because then the agreste arc would be over, and they wanted to milk that one for as long as possible. my only worry is that everything agreste-related would get resolved in the season 5 finale, as opposed to some delicious, long-drawn story.

hm, i feel like i didn't manage to reassure you, no? sorry for getting so intellectual on here haha. i understand your anxiety because i'm also undecided about the direction of the show! i think cautiously optimistic is our best bet for now, because there is an effort in adrien's writing that no other character receives, and because he does have a story this season with his anger and attempts at self-actualization. if adrien's story doesn't get anywhere, then it's just a horrible case of bad writing/story planning, and given what's going on with chloe, i can understand the worries! but i think that adrien is someone the team genuinely likes as a character, otherwise they wouldn't be giving all the best moments to the agrestes. the issue is, like you say, that it would be a half-assed story arc; but on the other hand, i feel like nearly every episode this season has added something to the 'chat noir feels unneeded and betrayed' thing we have going on. so: cautious optimism!