#i have so much more i could say about this but at my core it really just makes me sad

[heyyallitssatan]

Ok I love this so so much, it opens up so many new avenues for character development and shows that mha can have alignments other than chaotic evil and lawful good, and it present natsuo in a whole new light and it gives us so much potential for the other todorokis and their reactions when they find out

I want to yap about a few of said options so bear with me

First and the easiest, they don’t find out until Touya’s final scene when natsuo doesn’t try to stop him and Touya laughs maniacally and then the scene goes pretty similarly made natsuo steps in on his behalf maybe he just keeps his mom and sister out of the fight who knows

Then again maybe natsuo is just there for dabis dance and seconds what he’s says basically

Now for the (in my opinion) more fun options

How does Dabi react to natsuo being the mole? Does he even know at all, maybe they kept him in the dark to preserve the moles identity and make it as easy as possible for him to maintain his cover, but (that’s less fun) Dabi is a core member of the LOV so maybe he does know, and how would he react to that

Maybe he doesn’t care at all because he really does have no connection to or fucks to give about his family and natsuo can do whatever he wants, but i think he’d be just thrilled that another one of endeavors kids feeling the same way as him and wanting to take the bastard down

Now say what would Dabi do if natsuo wanted to get in on the action, he wants to be on the front lines, more involved than just a rat

Does Dabi stop him? Maybe, maybe some tiny burnt shrivelled part of his heart still beats for his little brother and doesn’t want to see him hurt, so maybe he draws his line in the stand

But what if he does let him? Is it because he really doesn’t care, doesn’t see natsuo’s as a brother anymore so what difference does it make to him, or is it because deep down he wants to fight with his brother against the man who hurt them both

Either way I don’t think he be allowed to fight cause they’d want to preserve his anonymity, makes him a better spy, my question is, does Dabi breathe a sigh of relief or disappointment

And in any of these scenarios really, does natsuo get to know who Dabi is, does Dabi give up his own identity to know his brother again, or does he maintain his cover and observe from the sidelines, assuming of course that he cares enough to watch at all

Now, what about fuyumi?

I find it hard to believe she doesn’t know unless she doesn’t want to, and maybe that’s the case, maybe she knows somethings up with natsuo, hears just enough cryptic calls, sees just enough sneaking around, knows just enough, to know she doesn’t want to know anymore, she leaves it at that, content to live in the dark where things make sense and she can keep the peace a little easier

I think she knows, and it bring up, does she tell?

I mean she should right, to protect her father and her littlest brother and everyone really, she should tell, it’s the right choice

But natsuo is her little brother too, and to protect him she has to keep quiet, what does she do

I think she probably tries to reason with natsuo, maybe not to incriminate himself but to stop, he’s not in too deep yet (she hopes) he can get out, even if they reveal his identity it won’t be hard to spin up that he was under duress or being manipulated, they can fix it

But he doesn’t want that, he doesn’t want to stop and he certainly doesn’t want to cover his own ass and hang the others out to fry, and he tries to explain it to her, why he has to do this

And she gets it, she really does, the desire to hurt their father for everything he’s done, to burn the system that let him do it, to hate everything that he is, everything that made him and everything that he’s made, she gets it, probably more than anyone else, more than natsuo even knows (cause after all, she’s fuyumi, how could she hate so deeply to know his, how could she hate so much and still do what she does)

But it can’t be worth this, it can’t be worth so many innocent lives, can it?

She should tell, she knows she should, she can make the perfect argument for it too, in her head, she’s protecting her father, Shouto, every innocent hero, student, and civillian that will be caught in the crossfire of their war, and natsuo wont back down, he won’t stop, he’ll keep pushing and pushing until he’s in the middle of this stupid fight too, he’ll get hurt, in the long run it’ll be so much worse for him too if she doesn’t tell, so she should, and she knows it, she knows all the reasons it’s the right choice

But there’s a burning feeling, an ache in her chest she’d thought she’d long since filled with ice, for the fire Touya bared to the world, for the kindness that used to live in their fathers eyes, for the life in their mothers, for the innocent in all of them, and that fire in her heart she’d buried beneath the glaciers in her lungs forcing her to bite her tongue, it burns for something, something some would call vengeance, and others would call justice, it’s the same thing really, for her at least, isn’t it? And she wants to consume the world in that fire, her father, the commission, the society that lets women be bought, children be bred in a lab, abused and killed by men who will never see the consequences, and then be sent to a war they had no part in starting, canon fodder, pawns on a board so big they’ll never find the edge, and certainly not the people moving them, she wants all of it to burn, and burn and burn, until it burns itself out, and all the ashes are lost, buried beneath a layer of fresh snow, that melts to water new grass and flowers, things that have never known war, or pain or abuse like she has, things new and untouched by everything that’s tainted them

So maybe she doesn’t tell, because she knows it’s the right thing, but, what if, this one time she didn’t do the right thing?

And Shouto can’t know, he just can’t, he’s too good, to perfect, to heroic, he wouldn’t understand, he didn’t feel what they all felt, not really, even fuyumi, who natsuo trusted but was never totally sure of when it came to stuff like this (but for some reason Dabi knew, he would have gone under oath, sworn against all but his name, that she wouldn’t tell, because natsuo knew fuyumi the big sister, but Touya knew fuyumi the girl) she understood something that Shouto just didn’t, couldn’t, not the way he was now, he never really took much notice of his siblings oddities anyway, I mean, how was he to know if they were really oddities at all

Obviously Endeavor doesn’t get to know until they want him to, until they can hurt them the most with it, but neither does rei, cause she was a victim too, but maybe they can’t get over it, maybe they can’t accept that she keeps choosing him, and even if she didn’t, they can’t trust her, not really, because they don’t know her, not really, no one does I don’t think, because they know rei the mom, rei the wife, rei the patient, but none of those are her are they?

So they get to it, the dance, when all is revealed to the world, and sure Endeavor looks shocked, and natsuo tries to, and wow when did he become such a good liar, fuyumi was alone when she saw it on tv, she didn’t have anyone to pretend for, and she didn’t, she didn’t look shocked, she didn’t look knowing either, she looked… not sad, sad wasn’t the word for it, maybe resigned? Resigned to it, because she knew, she didn’t know of course, no one could have, but she’d see the photos of Dabi posted everywhere, seen the footage, and those were her eyes, and that was the way Touya used to throw the first punch, and that scar hidden by all the others, it was older, and fuyumi remembered laughing at her big brother for tripping over a ball while she pushed a bandaid over just the same spot, so no she didn’t know, but if she honest she did

And when the big moment finally came, natsuo stood with fuyumi, but they both had this strange look of calm to themselves, not quite the panicked civilian they should have been, and when she stood together and wielded their “weak” quirks they were so strong, strong enough to stand behind their older brother, strong enough to cool him off and coat his limbs in fuyumis frost, while natsuo made every effort to blast their father back, it may not have been obvious to an outsider who’s side they stood on, but to the todorokis it was more than clear who, what, they’d chosen

Endeavor didn’t die that day, but neither did Touya, he would go to prison for a long time, but with twice weekly visitations he doubted he’d be lonely

Natsuo and fuyumi made the wrong choice this time, and if anyone can ever prove it beyond their family’s word, then they’ll be in matching outfits with their big brother, but maybe that’s not the worst thing in the world, because for once, their wrong choice finally felt right, they felt free

Honestly, I think it would have been really interesting if Natsuo had been the traitor.

He had a hell of a motive. Older brother is killed in a tragic accident brought about because of their father, younger brother is abused by their father, mother is institutionalized because of his father, and Endeavor faces justice for absolutely none of it.

All of a sudden this news broadcast showing Stain yelling for the public to open their eyes to the false heroes among them happens...just saying, that could have appealed to more than one of the Todoroki siblings.

And with Shouto a UA student, that places Natsuo in a prime position to potentially gather information about classes on and off campus. He wouldn't be an active member of the LoV; he's just the mole. It might be a stretch to say he wanted Shouto in harm's way, but if you remember that Shouto was exhibiting the exact same anger and arrogance Endeavor had, there was room for a narrative where Natsuo reached a, "Fuck, now there's two of them," mentality and didn't care what happened to him. And that only expands on the betrayal. Shouto realizes he's on a path to become his father, then starts trying to reconnect with his mother and estranged siblings. Natsuo doesn't even have to approach him to form a connection.

...

Shouto: Why did you do this?

Natsuo: If you had any original thoughts of your own, you'd have done it, too. But I guess it's not your fault Endeavor raised you to be a puppet.

Shouto: This isn't who you are.

Natsuo: *not even anger at this point, just pity* Are you sure? Can you say with any certainty that you know any of your siblings? Or am I just the one who went to college, Fuyumi is the one who cooks, and Touya is the one who died?

[heartepub]

to be your eyes

summary. a not-hero meets a not-monster. pairing. lee seokmin x fem!reader genre/tags. perseus/medusa retelling, fem pronouns and titles but nothing on anatomy (except for snake hair but that’s not an exclusive thing), hurt/comfort, seokmin is a romantic, hinted past s*xual ass*ult (medusa-story compliant), off-screen minor character death, body modification?, HAPPY ENDING!!!, unbeta’d wc. 3.1k suggested listening. carry you, novo amor // dust to dust, the civil wars // opaline, novo amor // keep the rain, searows

notes. full credits to this post for inspiring this retelling; at best I tweaked it to fit perseus' quest better ++ personality changes to match how I regard seokmin personally. might revisit this, but for now I just need it out of my system. feedback is appreciated and come say hi if you're inclined!

“Not a step closer.”

Seokmin would be foolish not to obey, despite not knowing where the voice speaks from. He looks only through the polished shield on his arm, never at anything that is not a reflection. The air is still, save for the faint sound of muffled hissing.

“I must admit I am quite disappointed.” The voice speaks again. “The hero who came into my cave last night, sword ready, could not even finish the deed.” He winces despite himself.

“I do not wish to kill you, Priestess.” The hissing grows ever so slightly louder.

“Lies,” the voice drops to a low growl. “There is only one hero who would dare enter when my sisters are absent. The one I have been warned about.”

Seokmin hesitates, before continuing. “I would just like to talk.” The priestess’ mocking scoff echoes around the rocks.

“Talk? Alliances? Is that how god-touched heroes fatten their pigs for slaughter, nowadays? With platitudes?” Before he can open his mouth, the voice begins to speak once more. “I will do you a favor, Lee Seokmin—” he inhales sharply as his name is called in that haunting lilt, “—I will make your task easy. You have one more chance to kill me. Light one of those candles you see in the corner of this cave and come back when it has burned all the way through. I will be asleep by then, so you will not need your shield,  though you may bring it if you wish.

“Oh, and,” the voice is suddenly much closer now. Despite his earlier spiel, the urge to run itches at his bones. “Make it quick, will you?”

He does as the voice bids; he grabs a candle, lights it with one of the braziers, and exits the temple-cave holding it. The flame is of a strange iridescence, illuminating the grey pebbles outside the entrance into something opal-like. He lets the sight wash over him as he contemplates.

Seokmin never wanted to be a hero.

More accurately, he never wanted to be the reason for any kind of bloodshed.

There was glory in heroism, to be sure. Every figure that boasts of the title is larger than life to the eyes of many; doers of deeds that were only possible for those either god-touched or god-born. He had set out on this quest in a bid to save his mother; even as he could not stand the thought of heroics, the revulsion that crawled in him at the sight of his uncle’s cruel smirk had won out. And so the bargain was born.

He was to bring the head of the gorgon, or suffer through his poor mother’s second wedding, to a man he knew she had no desire to be with.

He made it this far with a mix of dumb luck and godly assistance. Now, not only the fate of his mother rests on his shoulders, but also the expectation of the gods who had come to his aid—one of whom being the very same goddess who made you who you are now.

True to his unfitness as a hero, Seokmin indeed hesitated yesterday, at the last minute. Yet there was something in that sleeping face that made him pause.

Your hair was tightly wrapped in a turban, no snakes in sight. And with eyes closed, it was a face like any other’s. Beautiful, even. It shocked Seokmin to his core. 

This cannot be a creature so hard to kill.

So he ran away.

It was foolishness that made him come back. Foolishness, and a mix of the expectations on his shoulders, the desperation to still save his mother, and a curiosity to understand the sleeping creature that had compelled him so. The second time, his expectations were again unmet. Some of his pride had hurt at the mockery in that haunting voice, even more so because he knew it was only the truth.

Hesitation was un-hero-like. The third chance seemed almost an extension of your taunting, yet Seokmin cannot get it out of his mind that you are telling the truth. That you would let him kill you. He cannot match the serenity of that sleeping face to such a sentiment.

The candle is halfway through when he makes his decision.

He does not bring his sword the third time. 

With one hand, he holds the candle, burned three-fourths through. With the other, his shield, the polished side guiding him as he ventures again into the temple-cave. He has not even reached his destination when the voice speaks.

“You do not know how to follow instructions.”

“Priestess, do you really wish for me to kill you?”

For a moment, there is only the sound of faint hissing. Finally, the voice replies. “I am tired of living a half-life, Lee Seokmin. I would rather a quick death than a slow one, if you please.”

Deliberately, Seokmin sets down both the candle and the shield. He closes his eyes. Fishing for the band of cloth he tore from his robes, he grasps both ends and blindfolds himself.

“I would wish to talk to you, Priestess. Please. I am no hero, only a boy who bit off more than he could chew when he wanted to save his mother.”

For all the kindness that he saw in your face, there is none of that in your voice. Or even if there is, it is not the sort he recognizes. 

“I have no use for a boy who cannot understand neither instructions nor mercy. Leave and do not come back, unless you wish to die. Unlike you, I can make it quick.”

You do not think about the strange not-hero for months, until your sister urges you to the mouth of the cave.

“Please, you must tend to him. He’s god-touched, and somehow came to this temple despite the wounds on him.” You refuse to look until your other sister sighs. “His eyes are closed, for the gods’ sake.”

He’s a beautiful man, all delicate cheekbones and high-bridged nose. Yet pale; very pale. There is barely any rise and fall on his chest. Your sisters haggle and nag until you relent. You enlist their help in grinding the herbs at the mouth of the cave, some for poultices while the other for a brew to coax down his throat.

The two layers of cloth around his eyes are a preventative measure, in case he awakens. There is a reason why you never ventured out of this cave, hiding at any voice that was not your sisters’. There is a reason for why you keep your head tightly wrapped, letting the snakes breathe only when strictly necessary.

No soul, outside of those who did not abandon you, needs to be witness to your shame.

Still, you look after this beautiful man, hyperaware of the blindfolds you keep around his eyes. Your own remain downcast to be sure he will not turn to stone after all your hard work in healing his wounds. Days pass, and you begin to accompany him as he sleeps, watching the way the iridescent flame dances across his delicate features.

On particularly lonely nights, you whisper the secrets he may never remember as he wakes. The humble life that seemed to be many centuries ago. The priestess training. The service at the temple that you wish you could look back on fondly. Of the god that knew only to covet, and the curse brought down from an act that had but an illusion of consent. The curse (or gift, the goddess claimed) that had been brought upon you. An ordinary future lost forever, both from trauma and a notion of healing imposed by some other power.

Weeks pass, and he finally stirs.

“Where am I?” Your blood freezes for a moment. The voice that speaks from that mouth is instantly familiar.

“I told you not to come back unless you wanted to die, and yet here I am, tending to your wounds.” He turns his head in your direction, following your voice. His eyes still tightly sealed by the blindfold.

“Priestess?”

“I am no priestess,” you snap. “Not anymore.”

“Thank you, Priestess,” the blindfolded man persists, still painfully earnest. “I’m sorry, I did not know where else to go.”

“You foolish boy,” you sigh. “You could have gone anywhere else but the monster’s lair. Tell me, then, do you want to die?”

“No, Priestess. I don’t…” he hesitates. “I don’t know what I want outside of being a good son.”

“You are no hero, then. Only a filial boy.” Strangely enough, he chuckles.

“No, I am not,” he agrees.

“Curious,” you murmur despite yourself. Louder, you direct your instructions. “Rest. Once you are well, never come back. I do hope the former at least is not too difficult to follow.” You make to leave him, picking up your basket for a new batch of herbs for his poultice.

“For what it’s worth,” he calls after you, voice carrying across the cave despite its softness, “I was listening to your story. And I cannot and will not wish you any harm. Not after knowing it.”

You walk away without answering him, the basket clenched around your fingers tight enough to distort the weave.

It is three days after he wakes that he finally tells you why he first came.

“Your mother needs rescuing from your uncle, and he asked you to bring him my head in exchange for her freedom?”

“Yes.”

You consider it for a long moment. “I would not mind dying if it meant saving your mother.” A woman who was under the whims of another man…no, it would not be a bad thing at all. At least then, the goddess’ curse that you may only kill a man with your gaze could be put to good use.

Seokmin shakes his head, the ends of the cloth tied to his eyes swaying with the movement. “I would ask you to come with me, instead.”

“Why? So I can kill your uncle for you?”

His response is immediate and vehement. “No! I just—I feel I owe you a debt I do not know how to repay.”

You have grown used to his indecision. The reply that leaves you is as kind as you can make it. “I did not save you so you would be indebted. I saved you because my sisters pleaded your case.”

“But you saved me all the same.”

You sigh. “It is not a debt to be repaid, not-hero. What happens if you come home empty-handed?”

“I do not know. Nothing good.”

Despite his strangeness, you have grown to care for him. There is something achingly compelling about Seokmin’s earnestness, an innate kindness in his gentle smiles that makes you wish you could see the emotions dance in his eyes.

“I do not wish to see you die,” you admit.

“Priestess—” he starts.

“I told you not to call me that. That name holds nothing for me.” Though time soothes all wounds, there is still a foul taste in your mouth at the title, a persistent shiver that cools your bones.

“Er, lady?” Seokmin tries.

“I am no lady, either.” Despite yourself, heat rises to your cheeks at the title.

“I think anyone who is kind enough to tend to a foolish boy should be called lady,” he murmurs. “You could also tell me your name.”

“Oh? Have the stories not preceded me with my name?”

“That name is not yours. I mean your real one. I would not call you a monster, dear lady. No one with a heart as beautiful as yours would be one.” The words strike an unwilling chord. You look down, forcing the tears back from your eyes. Not for the first time, you wish Seokmin were a hero. Brutality would have been hurtful, but unsurprising. Tenderness is a blow no one can ready themselves for. You inhale, shakily.

“I should like to know your name,” he repeats, gentle in his ruining of your heart.

You shake your head, knowing he cannot see it. Without another word, you leave him.

Finally, the day comes when Seokmin regains his full strength. You waste no time in bringing him to the mouth of the cave, though you stop before anyone possibly on the outside can catch your gaze. Your sisters’ teasing has gotten unbearable; their latest stunt involves taking extended “trips” for increasingly implausible reasons. Even now, you are left alone, despite your insistence that all three of you send him off.

There is no use in being attached. A gift, however…

You unwrap your turban. Seokmin’s head swivels at the noise, hearing the hissing suddenly fill the space. You pluck a single snake from the mass. It wriggles in your hold.

“Hold out your hand.” He does. You grasp his wrist, placing the snake in his palm and curling his fingers around it. 

“Present her to your uncle as proof of my death. Tell him my head disintegrated, and left only this.”

Seokmin’s other hand moves, tracing the way your fingers wrap around his. Despite the callouses on his hands, his touch is devastatingly tender. 

In a different world, a lock of hair would be a romantic gift, one between courting lovers. In this one, it is a companion at best, a horror at worst.

Unbidden, tears prick at your eyes. The cave swims in your vision.

You steady your voice. “Do not look back,” you say, and untie his blindfold. “Careful now, let your eyes adjust to the light.” Your gaze is trained to the back of his head, ensuring that he does not move his neck even a little.

“Lady,” he says, his back still to you. “May I ask one final question?”

“You may.”

“This snake…are her eyes the same color as yours?”

“…Yes,” you admit.

“And she will not turn me to stone?”

“Yes.”

“Lady,” he says again, and you wish you could demand that he stop calling you that, as it ruins you a little more every time. “Would you forgive me if I ask to see your face before I go? I would ask you to close your eyes.”

Helplessly, you exhale a wet laugh. There is nothing you would refuse him now. “Very well.” You close your eyes. There is a rustle. Despite not seeing anything, you feel his gaze like a weight.

A hand, warm, touches your face, tracing your jaw, then your temples, even the bridge of your nose. Eventually, Seokmin’s thumb wipes at the tear that falls down your cheek.

“Thank you, dear lady,” he whispers. “I will remember this face, and when I look at your gift, I will imagine how you may look with your eyes open.”

Moons pass, and you try to forget about the not-hero you never really knew.

Until he returns, that is. 

Your sister only says two words. “He’s back.”

“I will not see him.” You do not move from your position, ignoring the treacherous seize of your heart.

Your other sister snorts, pulling you up forcibly. You yelp. She glares at you. “You will not turn him into stone. Trust me. Now go.”

Each step you take to the mouth of the cave feels leaden. You screw your eyes shut, relying on the walls and sheer familiarity to guide you forward. More than once, you contemplate turning around.

“Dear lady,” a voice calls, one you never thought you’d hear again. “Please do not run from me. I have blindfolded myself, so please open your eyes.”

Taking a deep breath, you begin to walk, forcing your heartbeat to remain even. He comes into sight, as heartbreakingly beautiful as he was the last time. His clothes are more tattered than before, and there are fresh scars that litter across his biceps. You ache to heal him.

“Hello,” he smiles, despite not seeing you.

“How is your mother, not-hero?”

“She is well.”

“And your uncle?”

“Dead. A snake called by your gift bit him.”

“I see. Good.”

“Good,” he echoes. You study his face; he seems to mean it. A little more a man than the boy you first tended to. “But that is not why I am here.”

Seokmin holds out a small box.

“I know your tending was no debt, my lady, and this is not meant to repay that. It is only a gift, yours no matter your answer.”

“My answer to what?”

He steps forward. You move to guide him, catching his arm right as he stumbles on a step he does not see. Seokmin breathes in, a little unsteady, before releasing you with a soft thanks. Yet he does not move farther away. He smiles again, his face not quite facing yours, unsure of your exact location. It only endears you to him more.

“I have travelled the world, dear lady, saved my family, regained my throne, made my peace with the gods, yet none have captivated my heart as you have. The voice and hands that guided me in this cave became my strength outside of it. If you are willing, I would have you as my wife.”

“You—” your voice cracks. “What man would take a wife he could not even gaze at? Whose eyes would kill? Whose name he does not know?”

“I would know your name only if you offered it, my lady. As for your other concerns…take off my blindfold,” he says softly. “I could not gaze at you even if I tried.”

It takes a while for his meaning to come to you, but when it does, you shake your head, disbelieving. That cannot be. He could not have possibly gone so far. Shaking, you do as he says.

He opens his eyelids, and you gasp.

Where his eyes should be there is nothingness. The scarring is minimal, which meant it was very intentionally removed. Seokmin fumbles for your hand before placing it very gently on the box.

“If you take my eyes, you will no longer have to worry about turning people to stone. I doubt they are as lovely as your own are, but they are yours, nonetheless. I wish for you to have the choices that they would provide, regardless of whether you accept my proposal or not.”

You carefully take the precious, precious box in one hand, and bring the other to the back of his neck, dragging him into a kiss.

Seokmin gasps, but recovers quickly. He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him. His mouth is soft just as the weight of his body is solid. It is everything you wished being held would feel.

The kiss ends with him resting his forehead against yours. Tears track down your cheeks, and he brings a hand up to wipe them away.

“Now that is familiar,” he hums, laughing quietly. His other hand traces up your neck, undoing your hair covering. The snakes fall down your back, slithering around his hand. He giggles as they curl playfully around his wrist.

“Is that a yes, then? Though I do hope you would not cry so much once you take my eyes for your own.” 

“Yes,” you say, and kiss him again.

[vodika-vibes]

All Of Me

Summary: When Rex and his Cyare get stranded on a planet far from the core, he decides to make the most of it.

Pairing: Captain Rex x F!Reader

Word Count: 888

Warnings: Reader is self conscious and shy, reader described as having hair long enough to hang over her shoulders.

A/N: I was in a Rex mood, so I wrote this. Also, my form list changed suddenly, so if I missed anyone in the tags that's why. Stupid google.

Click HERE to be added to my taglist

Her fingers are gentle as they brush through his short hair. It’s so soothing and relaxing that Rex can’t help but tilt his head back into her hand. Drowsily, he peers up at her, and affection swells in his chest at the soft look on her face, and the gentle smile that lifts her lips.

Rex is lounging in the hot spring, a towel around his waist to shield his modesty (as if it’s needed), and his beloved is sitting behind him on the edge of the pool, a towel wrapped around her body and her hair loose around her shoulders.

Her smile is becoming more and more rare these days. He’s more likely to see a stressed frown or a distracted look on her face recently. And, while he’s not thrilled about the fact that they were stranded here while on a mission, he supposes that there is a silver lining.  

“You’re staring,” Her voice is soft, and musical in a way that his and his brothers will never be. He falls in love with her all over again, every time she speaks to him.

“Can’t help it. You’re stunning.”

She averts her gaze shyly, “The things you say sometimes.”

“I mean every word.”

His beloved has always been self-conscious about her appearance. If he asked what she liked about herself, it would probably take her half an hour to come up with something that isn’t something she does for other people.

Rex, personally, thinks it’s ridiculous.

He could, and can, list ten things he loves about her without even thinking about it. He can talk about all of her good qualities for hours without getting tired, and without even mentioning her appearance.

He might be a little smitten.

It’s fine.

He’s allowed to be a little obsessed with his girlfriend.

A soft giggle pulls him from his thoughts, “You’re still staring, Rex.”

“I’m thinking about you.”

“Yeah? Good things, I hope?” Her fingers still trail through his short hair, and he sighs contently. 

“Only the best things.” He reassures her before he catches one of her hands and brings her fingers to his lips, “I love you, you know that?”

“I know, I love you too.”

“You deserve better than me.” Rex replies. He genuinely believes it. He’s a clone, and she’s an aide to a Senator. She could do so much better than him. But she only has eyes for him.

She just shakes her head, “I’m exactly where I want to be.”

He threads his fingers with hers, “Join me in the water, cyare?” It’s an offer and a plea. 

She looks momentarily surprised, “I didn’t want to crowd you.”

“You could never.” He holds her hand as she stands, and he supports her as she steps into the steaming water. And, when it looks like she’s going to step away from him, Rex doesn’t release her hand. Instead, he tugs her to sit next to him.

The water sits higher on her than on him, and the tips of her hair settle in the water. She really does look like some kind of fantasy princess. Absently, he reaches up to brush a stray strand of hair off her cheek, only for it to fall right back into place again.

“You have so much hair,” He teases lightly.

A smile lifts her lips, “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. It makes up for the fact that I don’t have any.”

A laugh falls from her, and Rex grins before he leans in to press his lips against hers. The kiss is chaste, little more than a brush of his lips against hers, but when her free hand comes up to wrap around his bicep and his name falls from her lips in a sigh, he’s helpless but to swoop in and kiss her again and again and again.

His hand settles on her hip, squeezing tightly and pulling her closer to his side. She’s not close enough. She’ll never be close enough. She could be sitting on him and still wouldn’t be close enough.

She sighs his name again, and Rex chuckles as he presses his forehead against hers, “You sound lovesick, beautiful.”

“It’s your fault.”

“Guilty as charged.”

Yes, he is smug about that thank you.

“Can I—?” She hesitates, “Um…nevermind.”

“Mm, speak your mind, cyar’ika.”

She won’t meet his gaze, “Can I sit on your lap?”

Rex doesn’t answer, doesn’t have to answer. Because as soon as she makes the request (it wasn’t a request, he knows that, but he’s choosing to treat it as a request) he’s pulling her to sit sideways on his lap, “How’s this?”

She hums a response, her soft fingers moving to trace the starburst scar on his chest, as she lays her head on his shoulder. “Perfect.”

“You never have to ask, cyare. I belong to you. All of me belongs to you.” Rex replies.

She turns her head to kiss his shoulder, “Well then. I’m a lucky lady.”

“I think I’m the lucky one, actually.” Rex kisses the side of her head and tightens his arms around her as he lets the conversation fall. 

Eventually the ship will return and they’ll have to go back to being Captain and Senator’s Aide, but for now they can just be together. And he intends to make the most of it.

@heidnspeak

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[rochand]

Oh man hope you don't mind this random reblog (plus rambling)! But I agree with so much of what you said here & I think it’s helped clarify some of my thoughts on it.

I feel much the same way about the reboot vs. the original. I enjoy a lot of the reboot for what it is, and like you said, I think it’s fairly clear what they were trying to go for in terms of theme. (i.e. tell a story about "the power of family" in the same vein as stories about "the power of friendship.") But . . .

I do think it's less satisfying in many ways because the core premise of Shazam/ Captain Marvel is the (extreme, literal, divine) empowerment of a child. It's not just a "scrappy underdog" story, it matters that Billy Batson is a child, specifically.

And while it does make sense to connect Billy to other people (including adults and/or family figures) to help the story stay grounded and relatable to readers . . . you have to be careful with how you do that or else you can undermine the "extreme child empowerment" so crucial to the character.

So like . . . take Victor and Rosa. There’s something about them I really like, which is the way they fill a particular role that got left open with changes the reboot made to Shazam.

in the original, the wizard is the first one to believe in Billy, for lack of better words. He’s seen Billy at his very "lowest" and most downtrodden, but singles him out for recognition due to how well he’s born up under those hardships and come through them with good character. In the reboot, though, this is different; Shazam takes a much dimmer view of Billy’s character and openly doubts that Billy is good enough (or explicitly says he isn’t, depending on version).

Instead, Rosa and Victor are now the ones who first believe in Billy as an inherently good kid and stick up for him, even when things "look bad." Ex:

(Shazam! Volume 1 (2013) by Geoff Johns & Gary Frank)

I kind of like this because . . . where the original Shazam basically has divinely perfect knowledge of Billy's life and character, Victor and Rosa largely have to do this on "faith." IDK, I find it interesting in that sense!

But the fact that Victor and Rosa are put in the role of Billy’s foster parents sets them up to fail in other ways, imho. Like, I would argue that a consistent barometer of adult “goodness” in Captain Marvel is the extent to which the adult empowers children vs. imposes adult authority/ control over children in a way that’s unwanted/ unnecessary.

To expand a little bit - like, we know that in real life children have various “needs” from adults. Material (food, shelter, clothing); emotional (love, affection, emotional support); psychological/ behavioral (routine, structure, help with self-regulation, you get the idea). Some of these things are actively “wanted” by the child, but others will be “imposed on” the child in their best interest.

I’d say that the former are . . . implied to be “okay” to give to Billy, according to the underlying “rules” of Captain Marvel. But the latter are not, if that makes sense.

Golden age Billy, for example, could benefit from “wanted” things like parental love and affection when made available to him. But I’d say he’s never really shown to "need" limits being placed on him for his own good?

He’s never really shown to have a problem with, say, emotional self-regulation (or anything else kids might struggle with at various developmental stages) that interferes with his life socially or as a superhero. Like you pointed out, he's highly responsible, good-natured, and self-sufficient. Were his golden age characterization being used today, Billy would come across as more of a candidate for emancipated minor status than someone who needed ongoing adult supervision, imho.

Reboot Billy, on the other hand, often does have more obvious problems with emotional maturity, or other things that get in the way of his social/ superhero life. I'd say reboot Billy's problems aren't necessarily "because" he's a kid (adults could also struggle with them), but are still the sort of thing you could point to and say “well, clearly Billy could benefit from some kind of adult guidance here, regardless of his personal thoughts/ feelings on the matter.”

From an out-of-universe perspective, the departure from golden age characterization is partly because we now expect our comic book protagonists to go through some kind of emotional arc and have a certain degree of psychological realism (or w/e). But I’d argue that the realism still has to serve the narrative and defer to fantasy in favor of the theme, only the reboot is axing some of the "child empowerment" aspect in favor of the "power of family."

Golden age Captain Marvel has you suspend your disbelief on Billy (and what a 12-year-old boy should realistically need) in a more wide-ranging way, so it can really hammer the child empowerment angle. But because the reboot is angling for a more modern/ realistic take on a child superhero, it only asks you to suspend your disbelief on certain “external” things fundamental to the superhero genre, like the existence of magical powers, and not so much on things "internal" to Billy as a child character.

What you then end up with is a more circumscribed version of Captain Marvel. One who is still empowered in the literal sense, with the magic of the gods, but is not empowered in other ways that are more abstract.

For example, as reboot Billy’s foster parents, Victor and Rosa have to have Billy attend school. For one thing, this is arguably in Billy’s best interest, but also, truancy laws exist and Billy is almost certainly not old enough to drop out. (And from an out-of-universe perspective, we can argue that it’s more realistic and relatable for school-aged audiences as well.)

But compare this to golden age Billy’s job at WHIZ radio:

(from "Introducing Captain Marvel", Whiz Comics #2 (1940)

Golden age Billy actively wants the job! And he's able to convince an adult to give it to him via his literal empowerment (as Captain Marvel) as well as a more intangible empowerment. (Ex. the way Billy refuses to allow adults to dismiss him, and advocates for himself and what he wants. And possibly in defiance of child labor laws, lol).

It does give Mr. Morris a position of authority over Billy as his boss, but that authority is limited in scope, and ultimately due to the nature of their relationship as employer and employee. Not because of their status as adult vs. child.

Arguably, school “shouldn’t” have a much worse impact on Billy’s ability to be Captain Marvel than a job, if you’re thinking about it in terms of like, realistic time commitments and so on. But IMHO it “feels” totally different in terms of how it implies adult authority and Billy’s relative empowerment.

To bring it back around -

I think this is one reason why Freddy, Mary, and the newer kids introduced in the reboot enjoy more acceptance from fans than Victor and Rosa do.

On the one hand, the Shazamily kids make Billy less "special" in the sense that Billy is no longer uniquely empowered (and depending on the version, they sometimes make Billy less powerful when he shares his powers with them). But we are more willing to tolerate this because they are also children who are disadvantaged in some way, just like Billy is.

When they, too, get empowered, they are reinforcing the story’s overall theme and extending it to allow for a wider exploration of the different types of struggles kids face. Even when they clash with Billy, they're doing so as peers, not as adults trying to impose some kind of higher authority on him.

In this way, the Shazamily kids further the reboot theme of "family = strength," but never challenge the original theme of "child empowerment" in a way that matters. Victor and Rosa, on the other hand, support the first but (arguably) not the second.

I don’t think this is an insurmountable problem or anything - or that they (as parental figures) need to be axed for the sake of the story. But I do think it’s something we’re kind of picking up on and responding to a little bit.

(And I think it's one reason why "homeless Billy Batson" is still very much a thing even in reboot fic!)

I've finally realised why I fundamentally disliked the New 52 version of Shazam/Captain Marvel.

I've had nitpicks about it before, but I always chalked it up to my personal preferences, and not anything inherently wrong with the retcon. It just wasn't my thing.

However, I could never shake the feeling that there was some deeper flaw to it than a mere difference in taste. New 52 Billy is a very different character to his older versions, but the core of his backstory (homeless orphan, history of abuse, extreme independence) was arguably retained, just in a new modern rendition. So why did I feel like the new 52 had lost something important?

Then it hit me.

Any version of Billy Batson would, realistically, never let himself have parents again.

Now that is not to say they don't have merit, I can see the vision with them. A perfectly normal, loving, and safe parental unit to contrast the insanity of Billy's life and give him that sweet hurt/comfort goodness. In the end, though, I could never get used to them. Even with all of Billy's changes in the new 52, it always felt deeply ooc whenever he would respect their authority or consider their comfort more important than his responsibilities. In fact, the new 52 version of him is even more distrusting of adults than the golden/silver age version, so Billy compromising his independent personality (especially after he gets his powers) feels like a huge contradiction to both his original and retconned selves. The Vasquez's aren't developed enough characters to make such a huge narrative trade off satisfying. This weird "distrusts authority figures + is proficiently independent yet let's them dictate his responsibilities and make choices on his behalf" characterisation extends beyond the Vasquez's and into Billy's professional relationships with the League. I love reading things where the trinity try and parent Billy, but the fun of it is how he never let's them in the end. Billy's been treated like an equal long enough for him to have seen his colleagues true selves, there is no chance in hell he'd let Superman dad lecture him when he's seen the man at his worst before.

While I never enjoyed the new 52 "Shazamily" brand, I could tolerate it. I never found any of Billy's siblings aside from Mary and Freddy compelling for various reasons, but Darla, Pedro, and Eugene were alright as far as superfluous characters went. What I really never liked were the Vasquez parents, Rosa, and Victor.

What I love about Billy Batson as a character is how inherently tragic he is, but in more subtle ways. Billy was orphaned/abandoned which is sad in and of itself, but the real meat and potatoes is what came after. Billy's been failed by everyone in life, but will not give up faith in people irregardless. He is the world's most competent 12 year old, with wisdom beyond his years and hard won skills that helped him survive on his own. All of this is what made him worthy of the lightning, what made him different and less likely to misuse such power.

Billy Batson in any era of DC always starts out as one of the weakest members of society. His misfortune always stems from the selfishness of others, who's proclivity to abuse their privileges make the boy intimately acquainted with the worst mankind has to offer. He has been robbed at every turn of good choices, and left with the hard ones instead. Education or food? Entertainment or work? How far is he willing to go for survival? If he lies, cheats and steals will he still want to survive by the end? if it means losing who he wishes to be?

If I were in his circumstances, I would be insulted by any attempts to parent me. Acknowledging that I deserved better wouldn't negate a childhoods worth of untrustworthy adults. By that point I'd be so used to living on my own that any well-meaning adults attempt to "lessen my burden" would certainly chafe. God forbid anybody try discipline me in the hopes of providing structure. I would never respect them again. Put the fucking mantle of Champion of Magic on all that, with an ancient wizards seal of approval, and I'd be out of any foster home faster than you could blink.

Why the hell does Billy stay in a house with a bedtime, and lectures, and restrictions on his ability to choose if he can transform into an invulnerable demi-god who can teleport into a safe, warm pocket dimension? Why doesn't he sell off some old junk from the rock, impersonate an adult, get a cheap apartment and load it up with magic wards and runes and just live there? This kid is divinely sanctioned as worthy of responsibility, why the fuck would he listen to life advice from two adults he barely knows? Billy can still be humble about his power while also having a spine about it.

Billy can have as many siblings as he wants, even if I don't find them all that interesting, but I don't think he would ever want parents again. Not if it meant losing the security that comes with full self-determination. He deserves to have had parents, but the tragedy of Billy Batson is that he can't. He has power unimaginable, is a beloved public figure and successful superhero, all these things that only existed in dreams before, but he doesn't have parents, arguably the one thing universally all children should get to have.

[sunnydayaoe]

Hello again! Sorry, I should have asked this question right away here💦

I'd like to know more about that little bun in the striped sweater you're painting with Fresh. He literally stole my heart😭

Thank you that is so sweet X] [Also calling him bun is SO cute!!]

Hard to talk about CB because I have so much I haven't talked about... Ah, I hope this is interesting and makes sense :o]

CB is only half of a monster, half of him is still in his AU, Foretale, living a normal life. He got split apart by falling into the void, soul cut in half due to Reasons [that I don't want to get into cus this is already getting long].

This leaves Comic disabled, and CB as well, to a slightly lesser extent. Both have trouble with Magic due to only having half of a soul each, though CB can somewhat deal with this by using the void to compensate. [Why CB has eyelights and Comic does not. CB has the extra energy for that, not Comic.]

[Also since you mentioned using a translator in the last one, so I put image descriptions in the alt text, which I think could be easier to get? Image ID's under cut incase the alt text doesn't work :-]]

First image!

[Image ID: A drawing of CB sitting down. There is blurb off to the side that says, in list order: CB, short for Computer Bug :-] [smiley face emoticon], He/him, 12-14 [like. baby] Amnesiac, Out-Code, Kinda an asshole, but in the way kids usually are, limited foresight abilities

Off to the side there are arrows pointing at specific parts of CB with extra information. One is pointing at his spenders with the text "Suspenders frequently on wrong." Another is pointing at his eye-lights with the text "Eyelights halflit/fuzzy." The last points at some glitching around his outline with the text "glitches." end ID]

Second Image!

[Image ID: Two characters standing next to each other, Comic and CB. Between them there are two halves of a Soul. They're cut up so that they could fit together, like a puzzle. CB's half has void gunk all over it. There's a blurb off to the side: Half-and-half Soul. Got split gaster-style by falling into the core when he was a kid, so half of him is still in his AU. [That's comic] CB's soul has a lot of void stuff on it too, from the aforementioned falling into the core stuff. [Comic doesn't because he didn't travel through the void/was scattered like CB]]

If there are any problems with these image descriptions, anyone is free to correct me/tell me :-]

[jeansmartswhxre]

𝔅𝔩𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔏𝔲𝔰𝔱 | Vampire!Emily Prentiss

emily prentiss x f!reader 18+, MDNI warnings: language, smutsmutsmut!!, mentions of blood, blood kink, feeding, teasing in public (others can't hear), dirty talk, petnames, strap-on (r!receiving), dom/sub dynamics, some aftercare, usual vampire stuff, feeder!reader (youre for em and em only) 2.5k words (i got carried away) This is my first fic about Em!! Lemme know if y'all want more Vampire AU stuff!! I'm currently writing vamp au's for Emily Spencer, Hotch, and Blake (JJ and other BAU members coming soon...) I hope to god there aren't typos lmfao... ENJOY!

You had been stuck in the bullpen all day finishing up paperwork and sitting through those boring budget meetings you always hated. One of those rare days where you weren’t flying across the country to catch unsubs. This however, was horrible for you. It was horrible because it meant you were at the every whim your vampire girlfriend. Days like these were the days you sometimes wished she wasn’t a vampire. Sometimes. The mind reading thing could be sexy, but she would sometimes be such a menace. 

For instance, during one of the budget meetings, your mind wandered. While Strauss was talking, all you could think about was the last time Emily fed, her fangs sinking into your tummy near your ribs. Moments later you could feel Emily’s eyes on you, her sitting across from you at the conference table. You turned to look at her, her eyebrow quirking up as your eyes met, you looked back at Strauss, her gaze too much for you to hold. Then she got in your head, “You naughty girl darling. You forget I can read your mind.” Fuck. “Where do you want me to feed next baby? I know you love it when I suck your neck. Or maybe I try something different like your thighs.” You turn to look her, giving her a warning look before looking back at Strauss. “You’re so cute when you think you’re in charge.” Emily smirked a little when she saw your eyes close briefly, trying so hard to ignore her. “Oh don’t worry baby. I have other plans for you. Just wait until tonight sweetness.”

It was taking every thing in you to control yourself, a wave of heat washing over your core. The rest of the meeting she drove you insane, she loved doing it. Watching you squirm while no one else knew what was going on in your head. When the meeting was over, you both walked out next to each other, her passing by you swiftly. Her scent entered your nostrils, a hint of tobacco lingering with a scent that was so Em. She could hear your heart speeding up as she walked past, a smirk gracing her lips as she sat at her desk.

This was a game she played all day, she always loved how needy you could get for her, and watching it build was admittedly a guilty pleasure of hers, torturing you. You were so grateful when Hotch came out his office and called it a night, telling the team we had been there long enough, the rest of the paperwork can wait for tomorrow. We all packed up our things saying our goodbyes, JJ and Spencer staying back a little to talk as Em came over to your desk. You couldn’t help but look at her form, her legs clad with black slacks, a black and silver belt on her hips, the buckle off center, because she knew it drove you crazy every time you saw it. Her top was red and ribbed, a boatneck, exposing her collarbones. She now wore a leather jacket, to act as protection against the cool fall air (even though she didn’t need it. But hey, she had to keep up appearances), a pair of big black sunglasses in her hair as she waited for you to pack your bag. She slung her purse over her shoulder, her top riding up slightly, exposing a sliver of her stomach, where you saw the beginnings of a mark you had left from the night before. “You ready to go sweetness.” She smirked. You nodded as you put back on your blazer, your bag hanging from your shoulder.

***

The car ride home was full of tension, you were so desperate to find out what Emily was planning for you. “Don’t be so nervous darling, I think you’ll like my little surprise” She smiles, glancing at you before bringing her eyes back to the road. Now that… that scared you. A fucking menace. 

When you finally pulled up your shared house, your heart definitely picked up. “God you’re so sexy when I can hear your blood pumping through your veins, all of it just for me.” She said before she left the car, leaving you groaning in the passenger seat before finally opening the door to catch up to her as she unlocked the front door.

As you walked through your front door, the both of you sat your bags on the table in your hallway, slipping off your shoes and hanging up your jackets. The second you were done Emily’s hand was on your wrist, pulling you into her, her lips automatically connecting with your neck. You couldn’t help but bring your hands to her hair, tugging slightly (something she loved), a groan escaping your lips as her teeth nipped along the skin there. “Em, please” you whimpered, you couldn’t take it anymore. You were already ruined from all the teasing at work, you truly couldn’t take it anymore. 

“What is it sweetness? Are you that desperate. I might have to tease you a little longer if you’re gonna be impatient.” Your head immediately shook. That was the last thing you wanted her to do. “No please Emmy, please… i cant take it.”  she couldn’t help but smirk, her fangs sheathing. jesus christ. It got you every time. No matter how many times you had seen them or how many times she fed, your knees always buckled when you saw them.

She ran her fangs along the exposed part of your neck, never piercing skin, but enough to make you wince. She was all hands, tugging your pencil skirt and white turtleneck off of you as you walked to your bedroom. You were left in your bra and panties, distracted by the feeling of Emily’s hands and lips all over you. She moved you toward the bed until the back of your legs hit it, causing you to fall backwards with her on top of you. She continued her journey down your body, kissing your tummy, stopping at the mark from last night, kissing it gently before running her tongue over it in gentle circles. You couldn’t help the whimpers that escaped your throat. She was so close to where you wanted, yet so far. With her on top of you, you couldn’t help but notice she was still fully clothed. Your hands slid down her sides, stopping at the hem of her shirt, gently tugging it up. “Emmy,” you whined, “You have too many clothes on baby.” You whimpered, needing to feel her beneath your fingertips. You watched as she looked up at you from your stomach, her fangs exposed, a sexy smile on her lips. 

“Alright baby, hang on… you’re lucky I need to taste you, or else I’d be edging you until the sun came up.” She smirked, leaving a kiss just above your belly button, before removing herself from on top of you. You watched as she took off her shirt and bra, her breasts jiggling slightly from their release, her hands sliding her slacks down her beautiful legs. “I’ll be right back sweetness, why don’t you take the rest of that off.” she says bending down to place a kiss on your lips, biting down on your bottom lip, before releasing it with a gentle tug walking to the bathroom in your room. Your eyes closed at the sensation, before falling off the bed, tugging your panties down your legs and your bra off your chest, throwing them god knows where. You laid on the bed patiently waiting for her to return, your body practically shaking in anticipation. Your thighs rubbing together to give yourself any semblance of friction.

You heard her footsteps, your head lolling to the side to watch her. Your eyes immediately fell to the harness across her hips, the dark red dildo jutting from it. “God baby, I could smell you all the way from the bathroom. All that for me? Fuck I bet your panties are ruined.” She said walking toward the bed. You, however, were in disbelief. The image of Em in the strap, her fangs jutting from her gums and her breasts on full display... you were practically drooling at the sight of her. She had never used the strap during your feeding before being that it was all still a little new. 

“Jesus Em.” You breathed. The smirk that played on her lips as she joined you on the bed could have made you cum right there. Your hand placed itself on her thigh, stroking it gently as she straddled your waist. 

“Baby, why don’t you get it wet for me, so I can fuck you while I feed.” Your eyes darkened at the idea. This woman was going to be the death of you. You nodded slowly as she moved a little closer to your mouth, you sitting up on your elbows to reach. Emily watched as your mouth wrapped around the dark red appendage, sucking just the tip, before sliding down further, eventually taking the full dildo in your mouth, your nose brushing against her tummy. She watched with her mouth agape, moaning when the base of it nudged against her clit. Her hands falling to your hair to move the strands from your face. “Fuck sweetness, you take me so well. I could watch you like this all night.” You did this for only a minute longer, before Emily’s hunger got too much for her to bear. She pulled you gently from her cock by your hair, your chest heaving as you caught your breath. Fuck she looked so hot above you with those fangs. 

“I heard that baby,” she smirked. She leaned down to kiss your messy lips. Your hand moved to her chest, kneading her breasts, her moaning into your mouth as you tweaked her sensitive nipples with your fingers. You felt as her legs settled between yours, her cock nudging against your core. You couldn’t help but kiss down her jaw to her neck, moving down to her breasts, your tongue circling around her sensitive buds. She whimpered above you, you always loved when you could make her do that.

You didn’t want to stop but she pulled away from you, kneeling between your legs. Her fingers trailed up your thighs and she scooted closer to your core, the tip nudging your entrance. “Fuck baby, you look so pretty like this.” She murmured, before pushing into you. Your head fell back as she let you adjust to her size. “Nuh-uh baby, none of that, keep those pretty little eyes on me, I wanna see you before I feed.” She said, her hand coming to your chin, forcing you to maintain eye contact as she began to move. Her pace was slow and gentle, her hands grasping your neck quickly before running itself between the valley of your breasts, down to your tummy, her hand splayed out, pressing down gently which caused you to moan. “God you look so beautiful sweetness. Ok, I’m gonna start feeding now. Just trust me baby.” She moaned, the base of the strap hitting her just right as her hips kept moving. You nodded quickly, words unable to form at the image in front of you. 

Emily leaned down, her lips leaving gentle kisses on the side of your neck, it turning into wet kisses before you felt her fangs sink into your skin slowly. “Fuck.” You stuttered, the feeling of her fangs piercing your skin, and her hips moving into you driving you insane. You could already feel your head getting woozy from the combined sensations. You could feel Em moaning against your neck as she picked up her pace, her hips starting to snap into you as she fed, the taste of you driving her crazy. The feeling of the base of her cock pushing against her clit combined with the taste of you, was almost too much for her. You could feel her hips start to falter as she continued her feed, your orgasm building like walls around you, ready to crumble at any moment. “E-Emmy, t-too much. H-head getting woozy.” You moaned, your hand gripping at her waist as if to almost push her away. “F-fuck Em, p-please.” She finally released you, licking the blood that dripped from your neck before sitting up again. When she came back up, you watched as blood dripped from the corners of her mouth, falling down her chest as her hips picked up their pace, you could tell she was chasing her impending orgasm. You had never seen a sexier sight, Emily’s boobs swaying as she snapped her hips into you, blood dripping down them, her mouth a bloodied, baring her fangs. You sat up with all the strength you had, your tongue licking the blood that had trickled down her breast, the sight breaking Emily above you.

“F-Fuck baby, c’mon cum with me.” You didn’t need to be told twice. You were already so close and the taste of Emily mixed with the coppery taste of your own blood sent you over the edge. You couldn’t help the noises that escaped your lips as you came, Emily fucking you through both of your orgasms. 

When her hips finally stopped, she fell on top of you, her lips softly kissing her feed mark. “You did so fucking good for me sweetness, such a good girl” she whispered against your skin as she laid there for a minute. Your limbs were practically jelly. You were fucked out and woozy, exactly how Emily liked you. You whimpered as she removed her strap, the sudden emptiness almost too much for you. You watched through hazy eyes as she took it off, throwing it toward the bathroom for proper cleaning later. She moved back to you, pulling you into her, you head laying on her bare chest. “I can feel your heart darling, it’s pumping so fast.” She breathed against the top of your head, kissing it gently. Her hands gently roamed your body. “Thank you baby. You did so good for me baby, you tasted as sweet as ever. Next time I’m gonna have to feed while you cum, it’ll probably be even sweeter.” She whispered. You just nodded, your body still fucked out. “Use your words sweetness.”

“You’re welcome Emmy.” You rasped, a smirk appeared on her lips before she kissed her way from the top of your head to your lips, her hand holding your chin as she placed a gentle kiss there. You laid in her arms for a while as you waited for the wooziness to go away. Once that happened, she began the aftercare routine the both of you had perfected after a feed. She ran a warm bath for you, settling behind you to help you bathe, leaving little kisses and praises in her wake. This was always one of your favorite parts. 

After the bath, she would help you put on your body butters and oils before helping you get dressed, and in bed as she brought you small snacks and water. You took a couple nibbles of the protein bar she had brought and a couple of sips of water before laying back on her, wanting nothing than to be in her arms. 

“Seriously, thank you baby.”

“Anything for you Emmy.” You smiled, placing a quick peck to her cheek before completely settling on her chest, your heartbeats synching as the both of you fell asleep, tangled in each other's limbs.

[panlight]

also continuing off the Informed Traits discussion, just how much of Caslisle's compassion/kindness is informed? Bella and Edward both make it seem like he's this saintly figure and pillar of goodness, but then there's moments where he does things that make you wonder if the view on him is just really rose-tinted.

Again, going back on BD where he invites his friends to witness and doesn't seem to care that they're hunting humans just outside forks/la push and let's them stay even after already knowing what their presence triggers the tribe to phase, the book also reveals that he took Jacob's blood sample to study without his consent?? Like a lab experiment???? (I learned this through a post showcasing that part in the book) Also in a podcast I listen to that discusses the plot of MS, he apparently fakes being Billy's distant relative (impersonating an indigenous person uhhmmm 😬) and, well,,,, lets just say I can see why some people think that entire phone call just gave colonizer vibes. AND!!! didn't he drug a woman to steal their car and kinda doesn't react much when they caused a massive car pileup??

On the one hand i dont mind if it's meant to show us that even Carlisle's sense of morality is flawed, but between Bella's "the Cullens are good to the core" and every time Edward talks about him in MS, it's feels more to me like another unreliable narrator trope.

This one is harder for me because, see, I want the compassion to be real because I think the concept of a vampire blessed/cursed with Super Compassion is legit fascinating! As I've said about 23470234 times, my favorite aspect of vampire stories is how they become a vampire, how you cope, the choices you make, what you accept and what you deny about your new reality. The idea that for this one guy, becoming a vampire made him even more compassionate is just the kind of twist on it that I've never seen anywhere else and I think it's really interesting, actually. A dud of a superpower, sure, but the innate push-pull of vampire instincts vs super compassion compels me, though.

But obviously I can see where it comes from that it could be an unreliable narrator thing or outright lie. Or at least a show vs tell problem where we're told he's compassionate but actions suggests otherwise.

I think it falls apart in two major ways:

The protagonist-centered morality. Everything in the story is about facilitating the E/B romance. Carlisle's alleged compassion can only help that, he can't hinder it. They HAVE to move back to Forks so the story can happen, he can't say "huh maybe it's NOT compassionate to move back to a place where people know what we are and are terrified of us." He can't refuse to drug the soccer mom because they have to save Bella! He can't object to having witnesses gather in Forks and force more teenage boys to phase and put humans at risk of being eaten because we have to save Renesmee! He can compassionately offer Bree surrender, but neither he nor Esme can do any more than that to try and save her, because that would complicate Bella's upcoming wedding. The Bella-centricity of it all sits like a supermassive black hole in the middle of the story, disrupting the orbits and bending the light of the other characters.

Carlisle can't be any more compassionate than his author, and that limits him. We had a fandom discussion about this a few years ago, but basically because SM doesn't see the problems with how the Quileute characters are treated in the story, none of the characters can, either. I remember calling it the moral version of how Alice is supposed to be a fashionista, but because SM doesn't really know anything about high fashion, there's a lot of 'tell' about her being this fashion icon but the actual show of clothes in the story doesn't live up to it. Or Carlisle himself -- he's supposed to be this genius doctor who has studied medicine and science for centuries, but SM isn't a doctor or a scientist, so some of the stuff she makes him say doesn't live up to the idea she planted. SM totally missed the settler-colonial stuff, the dehumanizing language, etc etc, so none of the characters, not even Compassionate Carlisle or Power-of-Heart Esme can.

tl;dr I like to think the compassion is real but hindered by the narrative insisting on prioritizing the love story AND Carlisle being unable to be more compassionate than his author. But that's because I WANT it to be real because I think the concept is really interesting, even if the execution is lacking. I don't need or want him to be Perfect or a Saint, and I'm sure existing as a VAMPIRE of all things would naturally come into conflict with compassion all the time (examples in the book is him not wanting to kill James and it leading to the extended hunt instead; offering surrender to Bree but knowing if he goes against the Volturi they could kill the whole family; telling Sam in BD that this isn't his fight and 'don't get your family slaughtered for pride,' even as Sam insists they have to be there for Jacob and Jacob has to be there for Nessie [blargh].) and that struggle and how he deals with it when he's in a situation with no Compassionate choice is available would be great. Even that car chase in Midnight Sun could maybe work if the story gave Carlisle any room to protest until Alice insists it's the Only Way!!!! or whatever, and some follow up where like oh huh weird some random charity swooped in to pay all the medical bills of everyone involved in the pile-up and bought them all new cars. If Edward, Jasper, etc can't turn off their gifts, Carlisle shouldn't be able to either, even when being forced into uncompassionate actions. But SM doesn't care. She only cares about Carlisle, let alone his compassion, inasmuch as she needed a kindly father figure to set up the vegetarian vampire thing and for Bella to have a convenient doctor.

[alternating-b-w]

a lot of people nowadays, when consuming media, do not have the ability to adjust their mindset and expectations on what should happen to the actual events of the story. people expect found family partially because they lack emotional immaturity or life experience.

i don't want to sound like a snob, but the popular fiction landscape is dominated nowadays by fanfiction or wannabe fanfiction- genre fiction that labels itself with ao3 tropes. you know the sort: cozy fiction, brandon sanderson type stuff, or honestly? if i see an anime genre in a native english language novel, like magical girls or mecha, i run. they are best suited to visual media for a reason. this is my personal opinion, so don't jump me for this, but these works don't tend to deal with emotional matters in a complex, subtle matter. when there is a romance story, you get a character who says "i hate this guy, he's kind of cute- i mean a BITCH." when someone suffers, their response is measured or defined in what angst trope do they respond with. they are cut and paste characters designed for emotional gratification, behaving relatively similar across the board regardless of how someone about the same age, gender and in the circumstances as those characters would behave. i could further go on about how how this in part stems from not really examining the culture and mannerisms of the opposite sex (and yes, i used the word sex, because it's important to analyse gendered socialisation when understanding how someone relates to their gender in present, cis or trans) to oneself when writing, but i digress. my main point is that the anime community tends to be bedfellows with those sorts of literature fans.

meanwhile, golden kamuy doesn't really have stock characters, aside from maybe shiraishi.

for example, sugimoto's a wanderer with ptsd, but there's no mystique or affected melancholy to his trauma, i.e. no real whump-bait. a less thoughtful writer would stop the brakes on the story midway to kick in the ye olde 1900s japanese therapy-speak and have him solve his issues that way, or have him cry and open up about his trauma regardless of him not being the sort of person to do that.

likewise, tsurumi's a manipulator, but he isn't a mustache twirler or a ragyo kiryuin clone- he's eccentric, charming and makes his men feel they owe him without him ever holding it over them. the actions he takes in the story create a logical conclusion of his men being loyal to him. a lesser author would have created a character who is a manipulator because they said so, even if in real life the character's men would all actually scared of him or would probably be offput by him trying to overstep their boundaries.

then, there are the characters who are 'useless', but are still present such as kadokura, kirawus, or vasily. we understand their emotional states, but equally that the main cast dont want or need to be their best friends; this making everyone feel real because it shows where the main casts priorities lie! kado and kira were certainly aware theyre werent pulling their weight compared to anji or ushiyama, but they didnt really give a fuck because kadokura had already did hijikata a massive solid with the prison break-in. meanwhile, vasily can't even speak japanese and followed sugimoto's group for the sole purpose of jumping ogata. he wasn't there to make friends and the story's not, at its core, about making friends, so why on earth would vasily end up being friends with sugimoto? gk respects every single character's agency and motivations more than making the reader feel warm and fuzzy.

however, when one doesnt think critically about characters and how their circumstances should impact them, it's easy for one to default to the mental comfort zone: tropes. likewise, when one doesn't spend much time in a highly competitive environment like the events of gk, they cant quite comprehend the fragile nature of the relationships made in those circumstances. so, to maximize emotional gratification, a somewhat friendly group now becomes a found family.

now the ogata issue starts when when the reality peeks through- ie, that every character bar asirpa has tried to kill each other at some point, the classic fanon 'fuck canon i do what i want' mindset kicks in. here's the thing- ogata is one of the only characters to which you really can't 'fuck canon' your way out of. even usami's quirky enough that you can easily box him in as the yandere sort, but ogata killed his mom, dad and brother over deep-seated daddy issues. it is very hard to defang the character into making him have the found-family appeal, especially as the story progressed and he went from weird quiet guy with sad backstory (which is still workable) to telling asirpa "do it pussy you won't." there is no way to turn ogata as we know him into an archetype fit for emotional gratification without removing a lot of what makes ogata ogata, as he would rather kill himself than show emotional vulnerability or change his mindset, so he becomes the odd one out when talking about the different groups in gk. thats what i think.

I mean... I am a person without a lot of attachments. I don't have a lot of trust in people, and I generally view people as simply everybody on their own path.

So then when I read other people's interpretations of gk, I'm often confused because I don't really understand where they're coming from.

For example, the idea of loyalty seem to be really important to a lot of other fans. Ogata is interpreted by almost everyone as a untrustworthy, with no loyalties.

But I don't understand why anyone in this story needs to have loyalties or why loyalty is even a good thing.

Everybody has completely different motivations and wants.

Tsurumi wants to split off a piece of the military, and use it to regain territory in Russia Where his wife and child are buried.

Hijikata says that he is looking to revive the Republic of Ezo, but actually he doesn't have the resources, or the time to do that so really he's looking for one last great battle and to die under that banner rather than to set up and new independent political entity.

Shiraishi has no real goals and just likes his friends and would love to get some money out of it. He later takes on Boutarou's goal.

Ogata has no real concrete achievable goal and is looking for an abstract sense of worth.

Sugimoto also has no real concrete goal and is using the gold hunt to avoid confronting the fact that he really has no place to return to. He says he has to get the money before he returns to ume, but this is just a prerequisite he set for himself, to delay returning. Ume isn't waiting for him, has no idea that he's out trying to get the money for her, and doesn't even know if he's alive. Despite all of the importance that he places on returning to her, he is a non-entity in her life, in the same way that Ogata is a non-entity in his father's life. The similarities and differences between Ogata and sugimoto is best left for another post.

Asirpa...... is a 12-year-old girl and is still trying to make sense of the world.

Many of the soldiers don't have any goals of their their own other than following orders or impressing their commander. People like Inenaga, ushiyama don't really have any aspirations for the gold. They just seem to be along for the ride since they have map tattoos.

My point is....

These are all clearly people with individual and completely different goals, to which the gold is just a means to an end. So I don't understand why loyalty is considered important, in fact I don't understand why it's a thing at all.

So given that ..... I don't understand why Ogata is considered a disloyal betrayer....

When I read comments by other readers, it really feels like there's an expectation that these groups be a found family of sorts. A place of trust and loyalty where people support and mentor each other and it makes no sense to me.

Like that's something you expect from the military. Members of the military are supposed to be brothers in against a common enemy led by a father figure and it is explicitly pointed out that this is not the case.

People bully each other, sometimes severely. The father figure is self-interested and the only sees his men as pawns. There are shifting loyalties and factions with their own goals in the same unit. The military is not a family substitute. Gold hunt groups are not a family substitute. Even family do not present the kind of loyal loving support that people seem to expect.

So I just..... I straight up have no understanding of why Ogata is considered to be a betrayer, because I don't understand how loyalty is a thing here. I mean to me, the very concept of loyalty in this story seems to be a lie used to manipulate people seeking identity and belonging, and have them be willing to die for the group.

When I look around on forums and discussions it seems like most people do not share this interpretation. People interpret media and events is through the lens of their own experiences. And I actually keep wondering if I'm missing something huge. Like if other people interpret loyalty in a totally different more meaningful way, what are their experiences that support this belief?

Just Curious

TLDR: this is not a story about found family as much as you want it to be. Instead it's about each person finding a place for themselves....not everyone is looking for a family.

Edit: I guess this is sort of meta. The reason I have this interpretation because I have a long history of working for corporations, and despite the found family culture that they try to create and all the team building exercises, people are constantly gunning for each other, trying to get people fired, taking credit for other people's work, making people look bad in front of management to elevate their own status, trying to jump ship and go to other companies in the same industry with proprietary knowledge... so my take on this whole story is that..."this is simply how people operate."

Like I've been on team building exercises with the company where everybody an outdooring trip and bonds over canoeing, and then immediately the next day people get back to trying to get each other fired.

That's just how people are. People form connections over all sorts of things, but that doesn't mean that they aren't out for themselves or that the connection will always exist, or that the connection is deep or that the person is loyal to you.

[trustinsturniolos]

Matt Sturniolo one shots !

pairing : matt x reader

warnings/content : suggestive content , one shot about period cramps , four one shots , lowercase intended ! , not proofread

ৎ★ ┈➤ you and matt were snuggled up comfortably together, you huddled into his chest with his arms wrapped around your back whilst you watched a sweet film about two people falling in love. somehow, you didn’t notice, but matt’s arm intentionally and carefully slipped from your back to under the warm blanket. he placed his hand on your knee, slowly drifting it upwards, closer to your core. you noticed matt’s movement, and your focus was drifted from the movie to his hand, waiting for him to touch that one sweet spot you wanted him to.

ৎ★ ┈➤ you groaned and winced in pain from your excruciating period cramps, clutching closely and desperately onto your fluffy beige hot water bottle, feeling like you’d pass out from the pain if you didn’t. you’d always had pretty extreme period cramps. “so, i go-“ you picked your head up to see matt who was standing in the doorway, a worried expression on his face as he brought up the glass of water you’d asked for a few minutes prior. matt soon realised why you were in so much pain and rapidly raced toward the bed, sitting down next to you carefully. “hey, ‘s okay, ‘s okay,” he reassured you softly, trying to comfort you as much as possible. “what d’ya want? i’ll grab anything. chocolate, chips, ice cream?” he suggested, desperately wanting to find a solution to help as he ran a hand through your hair soothingly.

ৎ★ ┈➤ “nate!” you giggled with a cute, cheesy grin displayed across your face as nate made a joke that caused you and a few of your other friends to have an outburst of laughter. your expression soon turned more neutral and serious as you noticed matt’s displeased expression, clearly jealous at how much attention you were giving nate. none of the others noticed, however, it was very clear to you. the sharp glare in his eyes, directed mostly at nate, his pursed soft lips and clenched jaw expressing his irritation toward your lack of attention to him. shuffling closer to him on your couch, “don’t worry, you’re still my favourite. No need to be so jealous.” you teased quietly and smugly to matt with a cheeky grin. “‘m not jealous.” he retorted in a frustrated tone, but he couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at the corner of his lips from your words. shaking his head, he allowed his lips to curl into a grin and he looked down to hide it as well as he could.

ৎ★ ┈➤ “what about this one?” you asked matt, tilting your head as you brought the pretty blue dress hanging onto the hanger to your body, seeing what it would look like on you. “uh-yeah, yeah-looks good.” he stuttered, unable to focus on the beautiful blue dress in front of your body when he could see your revealing midnight blue lingerie set clinging to your body from behind the dress. “c’mere for a second.” he said softly, but it wasn’t like he was asking you, he was telling you. you swiftly walked closer to him, curious as to why he wanted you to come closer, you assumed it was just so he could see your outfit better. “try it like this,” he gently took hold of the hanger, pretending to present it on you in a different way. merely a few seconds after he’d taken it, he put it to the side and roughly pulled you closer to him, earning a quiet yelp to escape your lips. at first you were confused as to why he just yanked you closer, then when you look down and noticed the growing tent in his trousers, you soon realised. with a slight grin, you looked at him as if to say ‘really?’. “gotta be quiet, aight?” he muttered lustfully, his eyes full with desire.

i mean, after all, you were only in the changing rooms of a shop.

[orlastarburst]

[Radio broadcast to all of hawkins]

*TV starts on*

Bald mike nation, it's me, orlastarburst.

As you can hopefully hear, I am not infected right now.

You're probably really confused as I was giving secret codes and messages, not even hours ago, making you believe I was a soldier for the MMM, and for a while í ẃ᧠- - sorry , but I managed to fight off the virus, and you're probably wondering why?

To simplify it, the MMM were stalking me, they sent me messages, watched my house, and ate my trash (I can't prove this, but trust me). At first I didn't realise what was going on,,, before it was too late.

They got my brother first.

They tried to recruit him, and he declined.

They didn't like that.

He-he was so brave. . . God. .

They- - They infected him, turned him into that THING

I knew something was wrong, they cut my Internet, so I didn't get @dynamicccsworld 's warning. I didn't know.

*car honk in distance*

I locked my brother in the basement where we played D&D, I had to save him.

I contacted the MMM and they proposed a deal.

I save my brother, but in return. . . . I take his place and help spread the disease for the queen

I lied to you guys.

I posted as normal, I commented on byler posts, but slowly, I was turning into one of them.

The MMM kept their promise, my brother came back the next evening. But I was gone.

I told him to run, to get to Lovers Lake, and find help. I haven't heard from him since.

*car screeching*

The longer I was infected, the more I started to lose my mind (and bald). I couldn't talk, I could only oɓəy, and I did.

But something was different, I noticed I wasn't like the other infected, I still had a conscience.

My head was an internal battle, one half, my core byler, trying to fight of the MMM and the other half being a hopeless blank static.

It went on like that for a while, but soon, a new voice started to appear. He said his name was Professor Green.

At first, he spoke only in letters, the words lost in the void of my mind, but soon, I could hear what he was saying. He was repeating one sentence;

"Do you want to be my friend?"

*static*

He helped me a lot-

*glitch*

And He will help you.

*car beeping and swerve sound*

I- - I don't have much time but LISTEN to me.

You - *car noises get louder* you need to get to the arcade, that's where professor green is. He knows how to stop this-

*cars constantly honking*

I-It's it's LOVERS LAKE, all the byler truth has been gathered in the waters, it's pure byler shipping energy. IT repels the MMM, and is - as far as I know - the only safe place in Hawkins.

But they were one step ahead of us.

They told me about it when I was still fully infected, so I can't remember most of it

But i do remember that - - the MMM are building something, a weapon.

They're going to unleash it on judgement day, the 7th day.

It's power source is- -

[Brodcast interrupted my unknown cause]

"§ťöp ťĥį§"

[Reconnect]

-you can't let them WIN!

. . . Protect bald mike, find professor green and please . . . If you find him, keep my brother safe.

*background noise gets loader and screams can be heard*

*teary voice* I can't go on this journey with you. They're on to me, they've found me again.

It was an honour standing by your side in the bald Mike nation.

Being crazy together with you guys has been the best thing I've ever done.

*window breaks*

Goodbye byler nation, I hope I made byler proud.

*gun shot*

*car crashes*

[Brodcast ended]

[timelessbian]

actually that ao3 post about calculating kudos-to-hits ratios to decide if a fic is worth reading has me so pissed off. someone put real time and energy into something they are SHARING WITH YOU FOR FREE on a site where you can quite literally filter and search by anything you want and you're STILL trying to find a foolproof method to find stuff that's "good enough to read"???

YOU ARE NOT THE TARGET AUDIENCE FOR EVERYTHING

you don't have to like or read everything in a given fandom or tag, but you also don't have to be a cunt about it and imply that it's not worth reading. this is the kind of shit that moves people to stop creating altogether, and to see people agreeing in the tags is so disheartening. absolutely unserious behavior.

[the-way-astray]

alright everybody can we please stop tagging me/talking about me in the notes of pro keefe/sokeefe posts. i know strieefe has made it so that it's really funny to talk about how much i love him and how much i'm in denial when i say negative things about him under those posts (and that's all in good fun and not the problem), but we have to think about the fact that the ops are just trying to make a positive post and probably don't want a keefe hater in their notes /srs

[tiredgeekgirl]

fellas it has been three months since the beach episode and thinking about neil and eva in any capacity still makes me ILL

[fumifooms]

Okay okay new flekille angle... Fleki joking about being a "dark elf" and Marcille being uncomfortable about it... Fleki saying it and teasing with it BECAUSE it makes Marcille unsure and uncomfortable.

No because okay okay rundown : 'dark elf' is a catch-all term for elves who show unsavory behavior or commit wrong actions, wether violence, theft, scamming or lying... It being a shorthand for criminals in general is a safe assumption to make, especially since they're classically demonized already.

"Okay but Fleki? Run me through the situation what does it have to do with flekille." Short sociology lesson, because of urgent needs being unable to be met through honest means & with the system favoring others instead, people from poorer more neglected social classes tend to fall into crime & bad crowds more easily. Having less ressources means the 'solutions' you do have are more extreme, wether it be for regulating your mental health or stabilizing your income or living situation. Here's a study link if interested.

Why I think Fleki may have been lower class, before becoming a prisoner? Okay stay with me here, elves are very hierarchal and xenophobic, even while being colonizers. Referring to the area guide blurbs, the northern central continent (NCC) is managed with more restrictions but also more valued in general than the southern central continent (SCC), which also has a widespread elven population. It's said life is "safe and easy" in the NCC, so alongside all the noble elves we have info for come from the NCC, we can see a dynamic form where NCC continent elves are from a higher safer social class than SCC elves.

Another hint of this is the characters' names. If you compare their name origins, a pattern starts appearing where... Well @room-surprise did the work and has more knowledge than me so, the way they put it: "It seems like every elf that has a clearly Germanic or Slavic name is either a criminal or a lower-class person and everyone who is higher class seems to have names that are Latin, Greek, or West/South Asian."

And this seems like a lot of large vague groups options that don't mean much, but this tidbit of info becomes more telling when knowing which races are more associated with what languages and cultures. For a full look into it I recommend this essay, but to get to the point here concisely: 'Fleki' is old norse. 'Otta' and 'Helki' are other elves with old norse names, but for what it's worth Otta is from the NCC, and who knows about Helki's origins. They're the only elves with old norse names at all, but three's a crowd. Who else do we know are scandinavian coded? That's right, Laios and his home region. Tallmen.

Prisoner/non-noble elves tend to have old norse names while none of the noble ones do. And wouldn't that be interesting if tied with tallmen being nordic, wouldn't it be a result of the cultural mixing happening in the less rich regions and the lower social classes, since noble elves are especially xenophobic and uppity about social classes?

Ironically, our protagonist Laios has a greek name, something associated with elves in Dungeon Meshi, but just like Anoutolid and Nussa (two of Laios' father's dogs) could have been picked as names because Laios' father likes names from myths, with the dogs this is canon but in case of Laios it's probably more of a meta joke. ANYWAYS! Go in the essay for more info, all I'm saying is, tallmen = nordic, elves having nordic names = possible cultural mixing, on the continent that canonically has more immigration and less restrictions but is also less safe and 'easy' to live in.

Elves concentrating all their efforts and wealth into the 1% is too real and it checks out. It's also hinted at and mentioned many times through canon and extra info (Misyl's Complete Adventurer's Bible blurb for one) that the canaries overpolice and charge criminals too heavily because they lack manpower, so they want people arrested and want them arrested for longer to have more canaries. Fleki was arrested because of possession and sale of ancient magic artifacts, and only got into ancient magic for the money. Look I'm just saying, it lines up that Fleki would turn to crime because her material conditions weren't great! And as a criminal, she's automatically fit to either having been treated as a dark elf or joke and taunt about it. Especially since the lore info extra on dark elves is set somewhere where tallmen approached unfriendly elves, while this could be a tallman unused to elves outside of rumors thus approaching them with a reckless idealized view, the casualness of it makes me think this is the sort of contact that was likely to happen in an area with a lot of elves and a lot of tallmen living nearby each other, ie the SCC.

Mentioning the Mithrun-Hareus parallels AGAIN but Mithrun and the canaries directly contrast Daltian Clan, it' holds up and makes sense a result especially of Mithrun being hareus' exact lookalike. It's fantasy vs reality of Marcille idealizing Daltian Clan and elven military through General Hareus and novels growing up, then realizing that the real elven military is miserable and very much not glamorous and general Mithrun is dehydrated, rude and after her life. So this plotline about idolizing vs demonizing elves as a race, stances that are very split within the dunmeshi cast, is very Marcille-centric within canon's story. She herself goes from associating with them a lot and being prideful about it & elven customs, to condemning their superiority complex and narrow-mindedness and being on the run from the elven military, before becoming an advisor for a short-lived tallman court, which is seen as dishonorable for elves, as Marcille the half-elf. There's a bit of an arc here, regardless of how much change she actually went through or if it was always just performance on her part that she wasn't really attached to.

So obviously this is all to say that Marcille having a romance with a very underprivileged elf, a "dark elf", would be not only compelling but relevant. FLEKILLE SUPREMACY!!!!!

Half-elf woman who drank the koolaid a bit growing up and idolized elves and tried her best to fit the image of one x woman who knows personally the shortcomings of that same idolized society and embodies that a bit, who breaks that elegant image by being crass and unapologetic and a criminal prisoner, who would have no problem breaking Marcille's fantasies about it, a full elf who still grew up disadvantaged and demonized. Marcille has been emulating elves all her life, perhaps in the hopes of being accepted more or feeling a bigger sense of cultural belonging, but Fleki is there, showing her hey, it isn't that great anyways, hey it doesn't matter squat if you're an elf or not people will always find excuses to mistreat you anyways. It's Fleki taunting and saying come be dark elves with me and Marcille coming to understand and replying no, we're both just elves.

[crossbackpoke-check]

Looks like that video is about a month & a half after The Trade and trevors broken ankle 😣

re: this video… anon 😭 i had suspicions but it is so much worse to have them confirmed that really was like. trevor’s first Public Appearance without jamie AND post-broken ankle which is traumatic in and of itself no wonder every beat reporter was like ‘oh yeah trevor’s just devastated’

wouldn’t you be miserable too if your best friend just got traded and your body betrayed you and what if it was maybe all your fault!!!

[asfdhgsdkjhgb]

had quite the night drive earlier this evening.