#if this were any other comic it would be a tragedy | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ilianasbruce · 4 days ago

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“The man on the altar.”

word count: 3,400

summary: Bruce understands what religion meant

warnings: full +18 content with some religious themes. minors do not interact, please.

notes: hello, hello!!! i’m back with a piece that had been rounding around my head for a long time. it’s actually a small one that i dreamed about when i thought of ‘what would Bruce think of sex if he was young and in love with his wife?’. i highly believe that young lover Bruce’d be obsessed with his wife; he’d be following her until the end of the world, she’d mean too much to him. and he’d mirror her actions, her love, and learn about the physical intimacy. this piece will be exploring the thought as i did in my previous works but i plan to sweeten and enrich my vision in my future pieces.

i must say that Bruce that i am writing and analyzing based on my views; i heavily try to write and create him based on his experiences, thoughts, and views of the world through my own reading and listening to comics. i had seen enough content about Bruce’s terrible representation, both as a father and lover and it is so heartbreaking to see them constantly. Anyone who portrays him in that way, specifically comic writers and fiction writers, either way, do not want to know about him or they just do not know him — just writing him out of his character. i’m not here to judge, i’m a writer here, too but i wish people could write based on what they really saw in him, not the constant circling of his constant representation. i am very open to your ideas, notions, and views, beautiful strangers!! please, if you have any of them, come to my ask-aways and let’s discuss them!! thank you so much for your reading and support of my fiction. i love you!!! happy reading!! ♡

Bruce was nearly a virgin before you. There was no shame in that. He had been bruised, stained with a tragedy throughout his life; unable to escape from the haunting echoes. He had no time or chance for anything beyond.

Bruce had been crumbled with his own wrath. His rage had him in the situations that resulted in the person who was today. His initial catalysts weren't coming from No man’s land. It had a name. Tragedy was a mere word for someone or people who only knew the paper meaning of the word. No one knew the exact meaning, sense, or form of tragedy, except the ones who had lived through it. The ones who had seen, felt, maddened by its unmistakable seconds of it.

Bruce knew that very well.

Tragedy bent Bruce in a way that could not be remedied. It gave him some traits, woke the early thoughts in his small mind without his comprehension of their meaning. The blood-covered concrete under his ricocheting gaze, in the middle of his beloved parents’ freshly warm corpses and his mother’s beautiful eyes — all created a bunch of sentiments, views of the world. And they shaped him in the ways.

Anger and justice — those were the ones rooted in Bruce since the tragedy, the first beliefs craved in his mind, those he couldn't breathe the air without. They were in a sense opposite of each other. How could an outraged person know what justice was from their chaotic vision? To know and understand justice?

Justice could be done with an open mind. Fairness and proper judgment must be the main characteristics of the man who sought justice. Not the anger. Not the wrath. Not the rage.

Bruce was painted with anger, that was why he never understood the need. He was blinded by the darkness of his tragedy. He chose wrath as a lamp and reached the destination he desperately searched for.

And there he was. Tall and ready when he hit his destination.

But an unfamiliar ache started in him when you came into his life; when you became his. Bruce felt it, the ache, as he felt anger for the first time, the meaning of it truly after the tragedy. And he felt the exact, familiar sense when he discovered something new, just as wrath itself before.

The ache formed itself into a need as he felt deeper. Need had started to consume him day by day when you were flourishing in this stormy life. Oh, how it burned him, left him confused but aware at the same time. He wanted you to be his desperately, the sense too intense as he laid his eyes on you every single time. He knew what it represented, what it threatened and he did not feel any shame about it. So, when you became his wife, he got what he scorched for — you.

You two had your first time on your honeymoon, away from Gotham for a few days. You were both young and in love, inexperienced and eager for each other. Bruce was your first in many things and physical intimacy was one of them. Sex was something that you did not engage in before him, partially making you equal to him. It was him with whom you learned about the intimacy between the lovers.

Two lovers — one belonged to the Sun and the other to the darkness. But Bruce refused to belong to anything, except you.

His loveliest, prettiest lover girl.

You tasted so sweet, melted in his mouth every time he kissed you. Or you dripped on his tongue delightfully when his handsome face was between your soft thighs feasting on you, which became the explicit definition of ‘heavenly’ in his terminology. You spun in Bruce’s mind ferociously — unconscious of your vision in him. You got him on his knees, got him obsessed with you.

He could not stand any chance against your love. He could not dare to leave your warmth. He altered his angles to the opposite directions, to the ones that he did not heed what they meant. He was blinded by you — his precious Sun in the dusk-covered life of his. And only Alfred did see his obsessive devotion to you.

Alfred, who brought Bruce up like his own blood son and raised him after the tragedy until Bruce left him for twelve years to come back with the unimaginable idea. Alfred, who sometimes riled Bruce up with his persistent worries about his safety and his recklessness about his own body, was stunned for the first time by how Bruce was towards you. How Bruce’s sharp and keen eyes were glinting when he heard your voice. He saw Bruce’s almost unhealthy love for you with his bare eyes.

He saw Bruce in different forms. He saw the silent delight in Bruce’s spirit when you were at Manor, doing something trivial. He saw his eased shoulders or the quiet excitement in his posture when he was with you. He saw how he appreciated and lavished you. He saw how he followed you as the Northstar. He saw, he heard and he was never expecting his son to be smitten like this.

So, when Bruce gave you his last name, his consumerism started, too.

Oh, after your first-ever sex, you nearly started to doing it once a week for the whole month. Him being tired? No worries, he had you under him with languid, deeper thrusts. Him being still energetic after being beaten up by thugs and your gorgeous eyes filled with sleep? He got you, ‘baby’. He circled around and came back to you. Again and again, with obsession and devotion.

You gave Bruce something he lacked and ached — peace. Peace meant everything to him in every sense, including the bed. Once the cold sheets he slept for the recovery or he flinched from them with nightmares, now were the real bed. The bed he had once heard the meaning of, but never knew until you slept in. His expensive, crispy sheets now were marked by your scent. Or the nightstand had your book. Anything in that damned room that he did not cross until his body couldn't handle the insomnia now belonged to you, too.

Oh, that room had seen Bruce’s lovemaking to you as the whole witness. It had absorbed your sweet sounds when he thrust into you. Your soft ‘Bruce’s, or his hushed curse words echoed through the room.

You taught Bruce many things during your marriage, even though you were just as young as him. In fact, you were a few years younger than him. If you did marry when Bruce was twenty-six or almost twenty-seven, you were just twenty-two or twenty-three.

Young and free, new romantics.

Your love taught physical intimacy to him. You were sweetly affectionate and loving — his lovely girl who also looked so good on him. The first time he let you ride him was when it was a rainy afternoon and he was at Manor. He did have nothing to do so at the moment, it was either early for the Batman or the city was quiet that Bruce wasn't in the cave. Must of been something that got you two worked up and you ended up making out with him on his lap.

It was you and him on the armchair, in the reading room of Wayne Manor. He kissed you like he was feasting on you. It started slow, dragging his fingers under your white tight-covered legs while his lips honored you. Then, he gave you the kisses one by one instead of taking your breath away with one. You couldn't get enough of him; you never did. So, you pulled him over and over again when he broke the kiss for another peck on your sweet lips.

You were pulling him by his dark hair, now messy between your fingers while trying to mend the craving between your legs. He must have sensed that to offer you ride his thigh first. When he put you in the right position, he murmured ‘Ride it, baby.’ to your lips before capturing you in the next kiss. But when you whispered a confused ‘But,’ to the broken kiss, he knew what he had to do.

That afternoon he carried you to your bedroom and stripped you until your delicate set, you sitting on his hips. You looked so adorable in your matching set, looking into his eyes with a flushed face and reddish lips from his kisses. His fingers wandered through your soft skin, over the silky material of your panties, so warm under his fingertips while you reached for another kiss.

Bruce had to teach you how to be on top since you were a virgin to the experience. Oh, how he gladly enjoyed being your tutor, but in fact, he hadn't done this sufficiently, either.

That one afternoon could be one of the best of times in Bruce’s life. All your softest sounds from your lips, your flustered cheek against his shoulder, and your scorching, viscous walls around his cock could be the death of him in the sweetest way. Your hands were on his bare biceps, nails digging into his pale skin from the sensation of the new angle you two were trying. He was ushering you with sweet words of ‘That’s my girl.’, ‘It’s all yours, baby, ride it.’ and you were glowing with his thickness.

His hands were around your thighs, helping for you the first time — not that he minded to have his hands on you. His eyes were half-lidded with the pleasure your pussy gave him, head rested against the headboard of his bed.

He could be doing that for the whole day if he could and he would not be drunk on you enough. But you were still sensitive to your inexperience and his stamina since Bruce had you on your back against the sheets every week. And he did not want his pretty girl unable to enjoy sex as much as he did.

Speaking of the devil, Bruce unquestionably had insane stamina for his age. Both on the streets and in bed; he could fuck you for hours without sweat on his forehead. All you had to do was lay prettily for him, your legs and arms around him— a habit of yours, to feel him closer as much as you could — as he thrust you.

Or he could eat you out, no, devour you to the point you’d be whimpering about how ‘it was too much’. It was never too much for him, not when he had you all to himself forevermore. Your legs around his head, probably on his broad shoulders, as he rolled his tongue between your folds. Sometimes he’d just eat you fully, with no fingers involved — just to see how much you could go. Or sometimes, his fingers would be diving into you in and out while his tongue worked in your pussy. You were a mess every time, fingers gripping the hem of your pillow or in his messy, inky hair with no chance against him.

He one time ate you out just because you were irritated with him due to his reckless driving and jumping from the Batmobile through the Gotham Bridge. You and Alfred were having almost a heart attack on the comms, just looking at each other in a dead silence. And Bruce? He shut you up that whole night with his lips and fingers in your cunt. You were too dizzy and sensitive to stay mad at him, and he was nuzzling you like a puppy with exhaustion, making you two fall asleep as soon as your heads hit the pillow.

He knew you so well, your character and your body as if he was your husband for ten years, instead of ten months. He was overly good at analyzing; he could be into the detective arc for a year but when you were in his bed every night, he had learned you as the back of his hand.

Bruce loved to come back to you and nuzzle you — he had been mirroring your affection and giving you what you gave him every day. He’d come back, straight to the shower after his patrols. And he’d glimpse at your sleeping form under the quilts. Or barely awake one with a relieved, small smile on your lips that he came back in one piece. You’d find him holding you tightly or cuddling you. Cuddling most of the time led to his favorite position when you were thinking about sex.

Missionary.

Any version of that position was you two’s favorite.

Bruce thrived for you when you were looking up at him with your prettiest eyes, your hair slightly messy on your pillow creating a vision for him, and your hands on his shoulders to keep him close to you? Whispering or moaning into his mouth when he kissed you as well as dived in between your warm thighs? Letting him show you how much he loved the bed you were in? You made his head spin with your intoxicating love.

Bruce had you in that position every single time. You loved it, too, there was no lie in that. You loved him so much that you were aching and wanting him to be close to you. And it was the only position you had him as you wished.

You wanted to be with your Bruce skin-to-skin, face-to-face as much as you could as if he’d disappear suddenly. You made it clear whenever he was buried inside of you so sweetly, so thickly and your legs around his waist, calling his name with love. Either your arms around his neck or your nails scratching his back muscles as he fucked you. You both were touch-starved for each other and you were fixing that in sex.

Bruce knew your clinginess all too well and he’d reassure you during sex every time. When he could see how tight you held him, he’d murmur ‘I am here, baby.” or “Not going anywhere, my love.”. You were just so sweet, wanting him as much as he wanted you.

Bruce made love to you. That was undeniable. He did not thrive in sex for some stupid time-wasting activity or weird position trying. Sex wasn't something that crossed his mind heavily during his twelve years of wandering. But if it came to his head, the idea of it was too intimate for him. Bruce was a lover. And he’d adore his beloved in the most intimate way.

And when he was in Gotham after twelve years, twenty-five years old, and being perceived by the Gothamites as the ‘handsome bachelor’ or in the next year trying to work out on his playboy act, known as ‘sex appeal’, ‘player’ or ‘definition of sex’, he despised it. He loathed it because that was not who he was but he had to be for the sake of his dual identity. He had been touched by people, gazed at by people and it disgusted him. They treated him as a mystery and dream, tried to touch their repulsive hands on his body; even a hand on his arm became an invasion of him. But people did not care and he started to learn to set it aside.

However, when he became your lover, your husband, he was at peace and the only person he wanted to be touching him was you. And Bruce loved to be intimate with you. Thus, sex became his favorite act.

What was the meaning of sex when he couldn't see your beautiful face when he was inside you with his deep, languid pace for both of you to see you were the one he belonged to? What was the meaning of it if your soft skin wasn't under his rough fingers, his lips to worship you? To mark you with his lips like a devoted prayer as his offering at your altar? Kissing every inch, every curve of your body, knowing it, and owning it as a map as his great treasure. Marking you with his burgundy-colored stains to show who loved you.

What was the meaning of it if he did not find his peace? He had found it truthfully, in many aspects. One of them was that there were the nights he was irritated and when he moved in and out of your core, you bestowed him an idea unconsciously. He was silent on the tongue, only his breathing — he was always silent when he was frustrated — just focused absentmindedly. You noticed him since he came home, slided under the covers without uttering a word. Your hushed voice pulled him out of his vexation, your ‘Baby, w-what’s wrong?’ altered his senses. He realized that he had someone who could listen to him. Why not try? Now, he was talking to you about his anger — only his anger —as he made love to you.

“I,” he muttered through his breath one night after his patrol. It was four in the morning and he was furious. “I almost lost it, baby.” he thrust his hips at a slightly rough pace, having you with whimpers and clutched hands on his shoulders.

“Fuck, he almost killed that small girl before I did something. Gonna lose my mind.”

He’d fuck his anger out himself, try to escape from the constant adrenaline of his rage. And you were so loving towards him to watch him with fluttering lashes and flustered cheeks under him. Offering your small words or worries to him with your sigh of pleasure.

He’d speak about what itched his brain. Sometimes either how he was terrible that night or he didn't know if he could keep up and you were there under him, kissing his lips as he confessed. Uttering words of ‘It’s okay.’, ‘M-My hero.” or ‘I love you so much.’ on his lips. What was the meaning of sex if this was not the thing he had during it?

And there were the times he was beaten up.

Truly.

His muscles were aching in the shower at three thirty-five one night after he made it home, to you. He had bruises on his skin, his jaw, and arms, all reddish and burgundy. You caught his gloomy eyes in the dim light of your bed lamp with the sleep in your posture. You’d wait for him sometimes, he’d not let you stay awake for him, but you did. How could you not?

He’d look haunted on those nights as if he was back in that alley again as if he was reliving the exact moments. You’d never know what made those memories revive in his mind again, but you knew when he slipped under the covers, to your arms. He’d do what he knew was right because he knew what you should do. And you did.

He’d slip in you with no protection — just bare and him. As if he was testing you if you’d let him, his real self to love, to have you. It was a trick of his mind. He’d play with his pace; sometimes rough, sometimes gentle. He would be lost mentally but there in your arms, in skin and bones. You’d pull him for many breathless kisses as much as you could, to ease and reassure him that he was there in your arms, not alone, not scared anymore. Your husband and safe in your arms.

He’d press his forehead against yours until he came with a repressed groan in his throat, his seed dripping between your folds, his breath hot against your lips. You’d stay there for a long time, just like that. Pressed up to each other, breathing and intertwined in love. He loved the feeling of you; the scent of yours as a reminder for him that you were there with him, wrapped around him as he was nuzzling you. He’d feel better, so much better than before he made it home.

So, if sex did not involve you, he was not interested. As if sex was created just because of you, for him to consume and love you. You made his bed a shrine. For both confessing and worshiping you. Bruce was never a religious man, he was the man of science. But for you, he became the one.

He now understood the essentials of someone’s religion. How those people were strict and at the same time, safe with their religious beliefs. How they felt the connection, the yearning to be close to their deity. How they thought highly, how they envisioned them as remarkable. He saw that, felt that, and had that in his own house, in his own bed.

thank you so much for reading! ♡

#batman #batman x reader #batman x you #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x batmom #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x you #batman x batmom #dc comics #batman and batmom as newlyweds!!!#bruce wayne x reader smut #bruce wayne smut #batman x reader smut #batman smut

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suiana · 10 months ago

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i was playing this Roblox game and saw this funny thing so imagine a yandere! giant who just thinks humans are so cute!

you're a human and live in a world where humans co-exist with other species. merfolk, vampires, giants... you name it, you have it. in any case, humans are considered cute to other creatures because of how... fragile they are.

i mean, you can't really argue with that. humans really are much more fragile as compared to other species. soft flesh, shorter lifespans...

so when your giant friend confesses that he is in love with you, you visibly take a step back and say:

"um, you should find another giant to be with."

it's not like you were being mean or anything either. you knew that while most creatures found humans to be cute, not many of them would want to be with a human. you've been asked out as a prank by too many other species (especially faes). if he got with you... the both of you would be scorn by others. you're just doing him a favour and telling him to find someone else.

physically, he was also two to three times your size! it would've never worked out anyway. and you don't even like him like that! there was no reason for you to accept his confession.

he doesn't seem to understand your rejection though.

"aw, humans are so cute! don't worry, i'll take care of you!"

"no, what? i don't-"

"haha! come here darling!"

...you blocked him and ran away.

what? it was a normal reaction! anyone would react like that if they got chased by a big, tall, beefy man! thankfully, you managed to hide away from him for a good bit. that is, until today.

you were out getting your groceries until you saw this... this huge ass giant that looked like he was starved for days.

him. he found you.

you immediately tried running back into your house, but it was too late. the second he saw you, he sprinted in your direction and tried to get to you by poking several holes with his arm into your house. it would've have been pretty comical to watch if YOU WEREN'T THE ONE INSIDE THE HOUSE.

you know how hamsters always stare in fear whenever their human tried to pick them out of their cage all while cooing and smiling at them? yeah, that was you. except you weren't a hamster. and the smile on your giant's face was absolutely horrifying.

yes, there was a smile on his face. but the delirious expression and flushed cheeks made him look like someone who escaped from the mental hospital.

"darling! ah, why'd you run away? i searched everywhere for you... to think you'd be living in such a small house... do you like dollhouses?"

no. he was just comically large and you weren't.

"please- ugh."

you stare at him as he pulls his arms out of your broken windows, heart calming down slightly. ah, at least he was- wait, wait, wait! your mouth drops in a mixture of fear? shock? as he removes the roof of your house with one hand and grabs you with the other.

"much better. let's go back home now, shall we?"

he smiles at you, patting your head before throwing your detached roof onto your... house that looks like it got ran through.

damn it... you couldn't even stay scared...

your house that you bought with your own money got absolutely massacred! this is a crime! a tragedy!

he'll pay for his actions... you'll make sure of it...

"aw, darling! you look like a cute hamster now! you're rubbing your hands together like you're plotting something evil haha!"

damn him!

#yandere #tw yandere #yandere x reader #yandere drabbles #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere concepts #yandere giant #yandere giant x reader #gn reader #suiana rambling #suiana brainrotting

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namelessgakusei · 10 days ago

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Beloved

Mark Grayson x Reader

Warnings: angst, mentions of bullying, death

Notes: Of all the characters, Mark came haunting my brain for my birthday fic. It was supposed to be a Housamo fic dang it dang it! Inspired by Vivinos' "Beloved". Never beating the ViviMeng x Invincible allegations.

Synopsis: During the Invincible War, a certain variant couldn't bring himself to do what he wanted.

"I would run, I would fly, if you come into my heart."

He still remembers you.

Even after the tragedy, bloodshed, and loss; Mark can still remember you as clearly as yesterday's memory. You were like a butterfly, beautiful and free, even after going through so much change in your life.

You met when you reported the bullying he faces one day, as a transfer student who didn't know any better. Despite the staff not doing anything, you still helped him even after the peers around him continued the treatment. He remembers that you started carrying around a first aid kit after a few weeks, not for you, no, it's for him. While the other students left you alone for your stubborn behavior, the same cannot be said for him, which ends up with more injuries on his body whenever you two run to each other in the halls.

Mark didn't understand why you kept sticking around him even after knowing his situation, but you just smiled and treated his cuts when he brought up the topic. You went out of your way to care for him, protect him, and his suspicions about you slowly disappeared. He even had the gall to think of you two as friends as he slyly tries to know more about you to return the favor.

You were his only friend. The one who took the time to get to know him. The only one who truly saw him as Mark.

With your blinding smile and infectious personality, you were like the first rays of warm sunlight after years within the cold and damp embrace of rain. And he can't get enough of this light.

This is the first time he felt such warmth in such a long time. The first time where he could enjoy life as it is. The first time he had so much fun that he went home with a smile, something that even shocked his mom, prompting curious questions from his parents.

That's how they got to know you.

Debbie was proud of him for finally making a friend, and Nolan nodded in approval, before asking to get you over for dinner. This led to him shyly asking you to come over, before following up that it's alright if you didn't want to. But you agreed, flashing him a smile that made his chest hurt, before going over to your next class. As for Mark, he was ecstatic, you'd come over!

The dinner wasn't the only thing that happened that night. While his parents were a bit too invasive with their questions, you didn't mind, answering it truthfully with such confidence. But the embarrassment caught up to Mark pretty quickly, that he excused both of you to his room, before apologizing for what happened. You assured him that it's fine, and the two of you holed up in his room for the remainder of the night, having decided to sleep over due to how late it was.

Mark remembers that night. How the two of you stayed up to talk about just about anything: Seance Dog, superheroes, the new comic book shop by the alley, subjects you were sure you'll fail. And somehow, the conversation steered to Mark asking why you still stuck with him after everything.

He wasn't listening to your reply, too focused on how the faint light of his desk lamp shines behind your silhouette, outlining your features within the shadows. God, he wanted to risk it all that night. Mark leaned in before he knew it, pressing a chaste kiss over your lips while his hand goes over yours.

It was a short lived moment where regret immediately sank it and would've eaten him alive if not for your reciprocation, chasing over his own lips after he pulled away. With a kiss shared in the dark, you confessed that you liked him too. Mark thought that he could die happy that night.

He should've. He shouldn't have done that.

Someone was watching that night.

Not long after you two started dating, his powers awakened. Mark rushed to you the moment he could control his flight better, before bringing you to a tour in the sky, feeling accomplished upon seeing your amazement while you clung to him. He can be a hero like in the comics he'd read! He can be your knight, and you can be the damsel this time around. He won't be the weak boy you once protected anymore. You won't have to worry about him anymore.

That's why he was enthusiastic to join the Global Defense Agency, so he could further cement his dream. As an official hero, you'll definitely see him as someone who is strong enough to finally stand side-by-side with you. But you said that he doesn't need to be a hero to be one. You said that having him return to you safely is enough. Mark doesn't understand your worries. Can't you see? He's more than capable now! Nevermind a few more bruises and injuries! He's Invincible!

He can do anything, as long as you're by his side.

He's strong now, after all.

Then why... when his father turned on humanity, why couldn't he do anything? Betrayed by the person he looks up to the most, the one who taught him everything he knew, the one whom he thought would give his blessings should you and Mark get married one day, Invincible couldn't do anything but lay down on the ground, half-beaten to death. Nolan continued his preach about the inferiority of humans, but Mark couldn't care less. With the most powerful hero going rogue, he could only think about your safety at the moment. If his father, no, Nolan, goes on a rampage, you and his mom would be in danger.

He needed to go home.

Omni-Man must've heard him call out your name in a broken cry, as he procured a body from underneath the rubble around them, courtesy of his earlier actions. The sight made Mark choke a scream and a sob, but the older man looming above his defeated state showed no such expression, only lecturing him about the superiority of Viltrumites over measly, primitive monkeys.

Nolan dropped your mangled corpse in front of Mark.

Everything went black after that. Mark doesn't remember what happened, or how much time had passed. All he knew was when he came into, he was clutching your body like a lifeline, muttering apologies as he broke down, all while his father lay dead on the ground.

Humanity hailed him as a savior. He became the hero he wanted to be, defeated the villain and saved Earth, but at what cost? His whole reason for doing all of this is now gone. Mark couldn't even go to your funeral because he knew he won't be able to let go of the casket as it lowered to the ground.

He tried to move on, he really did! His mom even helped him! But no matter how many times he gets into a relationship, your battered face haunts him whenever he looks up, replaying the memory of your body falling from above.

Mark breaks a little every time it happens.

He wallowed in his sadness for years, replaying every moment in his life where the both of you were happy, where you two were just ordinary students unaffiliated with hero work. If he closes his eyes, he could still imagine you from all those years ago, laughing and having fun with him; it's an idyllic life that he has no right to experience anymore. Not when you're already gone.

It was his desperation that drove him to accept Angstrom's offer. The promise of having you again sparked life back in his body. You're alive out there, somewhere in another universe, and if he does his end of the deal, you'll come back to his arms. You'll be together again.

He won't have to be alone anymore.

It was almost ridiculous how easy he found you on the first day, just minutes before the actual chaos started. You turn to him with recognition in your eyes, calling his name and smiling just like how he remembers it. Ah, Mark wants to cry.

What is he doing, trying to snatch you away from your happiness? Why is he here? To destroy your world and force you to love the one responsible for it? No, he won't cause you any more pain. This time, he'll protect you.

"You should go home. Find mom and get out of the city."

He didn't elaborate further, only giving you a vague explanation about a villain attack about to happen. You left, confused, but followed his advice nonetheless.

And as he stares at your disappearing figure, he lets this butterfly fly past.

#mark grayson x reader #mark grayson #invincible #invincible x reader #invincible variants #variant invincible #gaku's works!#lowkey ass im sorry in advance

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linkspooky · 1 year ago

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It's not just the fact that Hori decided to kill a lifelong victim of grooming.

My two favorite comic book storylines are New Teen Titans Judas Contract, and Uncanny X Men's Inferno. They both feature villains / victims (Madelyne Pryor and Terra) that die at the end of the story. Terra is specifically fifteen years old and a victim of sexual grooming.

However, both of these stories are clearly written as tragedies. It's clear from the start that these are tragic stories not only meant to get us to sympathize with the victim turned villain but also the failure to save a clear victim is meant to make the heroes look bad.

Let me just list off all the shit Scott Summers put Madelyne Pryor through.

Fell in love with her only because she looked like his ex girlfriend Jean. Even though Madelyne specifically stated before getting into the relationship she didn't want to be jeans replacement.

Married her, and refuses to take time off to the point where he misses the birth of his own son leaving Madelyne at home to deliver her baby on the floor.

When he finally retires and they move to Alaska together he gets a phone call that Jean is still alive and abandons his wife and daughter for weeks to go back to his high school girlfriend.

Madelyne is attacked by a group of supervillains while Scott is away and just barely manages to escape but loses her baby.

She joins up with the x men to look for scott only to find out in the time she's been gone Scott had already gotten back together with Jean.

She is tricked into making a deal with a demon who wants to overthrow ilyanas control of limbo (she thought it was just a dream and the contract to sell her soul didn't matter).

She used her newfound power in order to find her child Nathan only to find Mr sinister there who reveals that Madelyne was a clone of Jean Grey, her entire life was a lie, she was made to breed with cyclops and produce a baby for sinister.

At which point madelyne snaps and decides to burn everything to the ground and kill her own child.

It's clearly telegraphed as a tragedy. The reference to Medea is pretty obvious. Madelyne had no chance from the beginning, however even in this tragedy Scott specifically forbid any of the heroes from using lethal force on her. Jean and Maddie mindmeld at one point and Jean literally begs for Maddie not to die and that she should live on to raise her son. They even throw a funeral for Maddie afterwards because be no one else would ever mourn her.

Not only do the heroes look bad, especially Scott for not being able to save her, they do at least try to talk with her, use non lethal force, and beg her at one point to let them help her.

On the other hand not only did Deku never engage Shigaraki Tomura once, just the vision of a crying child in front of him. Deku doesn't look like a failure for failing in his goal to save him he's still the greatest hero, they don't hold a funeral for Shigaraki, Dekus last words are about how he doesn't forgive Shigaraki (and therefore he deserves to die i guess because deku is the punisher now). Deku doesn't even give Shigaraki the respect of calling him by his preferred name he just calls him Tenko who was the only person Deku cared about saving.

It's not just about a victim dying it's about how the story promised us over and over again the kids were going to save the villains in the final act, that this was going to be an optimistic story about the new generation being better than the old.

Only for Horikoshi to deliver something entirely different. If I'm watching punisher I know what I'm getting into. I'm here to watch Frank Castle shoot mobsters. If Batman picks up a Tommy Gun and starts shooting mobsters that's bad because Batman wouldn't do that shit.

There's writing a story that's tonally inconsistent, or changing your plans for how a character is going to end late in the game and then there's this.

Which is basically narrative gaslighting. Where one thing is clearly happening onscreen but the narrative needs you to believe those gaslights clearly are not dimming.

I know Deku made no effort to save Shigaraki when he explicitly said they OFA is a power for saving but not killing, but don't worry Deku became the greatest hero anyway, and this is still a happy optimistic ending!

Horikoshi isn't looking for treasure in the house. Those gaslights aren't dimming. You're clearly being hysterical, woman.

#Bnha 424 #bnha 424 #mha 424 #bnha spoilers #bnha critical

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chipthekeeper · 1 month ago

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i keep having to explain my s2 feelings to people who haven't been in the trenches here for two and a half years and it's so odd. at the comic book store, with the coworkers, with non-star wars obsessed tumblr friends. i keep having to do it and i keep struggling to put into words that "yes, the show is still breathtakingly good when it's good. yes, it's still miles above basically every other show. yes, you should still watch it"

yes. all of that. but at the same time i'm not having fun watching it because it is so. fucking. disappointing.

that's the word i keep coming back to. on the spectacle front, it delivers as well as it always did, but to me the thing that made season one...well, spectacular...was the little things. the quiet moments, the small conversations, the characters. the fucking characters!! the first "this show is perfect" post i ever made was about how EVERY character in the show felt full and real and deep, even if we only got them for a few brief moments. and as the season went on and we got to know everyone better it just made all those big moments all the more incredible because we'd spent time with everyone who was being affected by them. and that's why this season is disappointing

because we're either not getting those quiet moments at all or they just don't make any sense because we missed so many before the ones we did get. or, in the worst cases, they've leaned so heavily into fucked up tropes and nonsensical storylines that we'd rather not get them at all

the biggest tragedy of this season isn't any one character dying or even the ghorman massacre, it's that season one set the bar so high for how well crafted a star wars show could be, and then the structure of this one was never going to allow it to reach that level. and maybe a lot of people gave gilroy and his gang too much credit. maybe we didn't critique them enough where there WERE flaws with season one. we talked about them, but for some reason we believed they'd learn from their mistakes rather than compounding on them. maybe we created our own disappointment. i know i did

the five season plan obviously never would have worked out. the show was always going to be too expensive and too....controversial...for disney to allow it to keep going (and of course it would've taken such a long time and put such a strain on the cast and crew's lives). but i'll always be left to wonder how just one or two more could've improved things, even if the seasons were shorter. how much better could it have been with time to actually focus on what was important from the beginning

as with most of my rants, there's no end point to this. it's just frustrating to watch the rest of the world praise this thing endlessly when all i can feel is utter disappointment

#i desperately need a nap #andor critical #andor spoilers #i should probably not make this rebloggable but whateeeeeverrrrrr #my posts

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everwalldigan · 18 days ago

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genuinely curious in comics (haven't gotten to jason as robin yet) why on earth is the narrative that jason as robin wasn't good enough, was an idiot and got himself killed because he didnt listen? i know the sheila was alive when bruce came so did she NOT tell him how she sold him out or did she tell him but bruce hid that knowledge?? im like so confused on why tf he'd allow that crap to be said about HIS SON?? i feel like im gonna get into reading jason comics and rip my hair out over every person that knew him being cunts to him and sucking ass AUGFHGHF

Short answer: disgusting classist stereotypes that have unfortunately plagued Jason for decades. The idea that only because he was a displaced child that was failed by the system, he would have become a criminal had Bruce not “saved” him by taking him in and making him Robin. This was proven as false more than once by showing that in alternate universes where Jason wasn’t taken in by Bruce, he was much better off (famously like in flashpoint timeline where he became a priest).

Long answer:

Okay this is gonna be LONG but let’s start at the scene of the crime: Batman #428

Misconception #1: Jason was an incompetent Robin.

No.

Misconception nr 2: he was violent, impulsive and hot-headed

No. He literally let his father’s killer walk away, he literally stopped Bruce from killing the joker during their last encounter with him before ditf.

Detective comics #570

Jason was a traumatised child that was displaying effects of emotional distress/neglect. His emotional needs were not met and were severely underestimated by Bruce. That’s what lead him to seek out his birth mother in the first place, he was just a traumatised child looking desperately for any emotional anchor that he could feel safe with. That’s also the reason why he was “acting out”, disobeying orders, making risks, which lead to Bruce benching him and taking away the emotional anchor they had (Robin). Jason felt safe in his connection to Bruce when he was Robin because Batman needed a Robin and couldn’t abandon Jason if he was Robin. Now that there’s a real chance it would be taken away, what’s stopping Bruce from throwing him out like he did Dick*? Jason had nowhere else to go. He didn’t have a superhero team like the other robins, he didn’t have anything tangible outside of Batman, really.

*Thats unfortunately the canon we have to deal with post crisis instead of the REASONABLE version of Dick growing out of Robin and passing on the mantle willingly THAT LITERALLY MAKES SO MUCH MORE SENSE IM GONNA KMS

A lot of the tragedies surrounding Bruce Wayne are in their core caused by miscommunication and misunderstandings.

Now to Bruce’s last conversation with Sheila. from her words alone you couldn’t really discern that she was the one that lied to Jason and lead him to the warehouse where the joker was waiting to beat him up and had a direct hand in Jason’s death.

I’ve been looking for a couple days for the very first instance of someone using that rhetoric for Jason but I couldn’t find it. It’s usually Alfred or Tim that are most likely to say something like “Jason got himself killed”. Tim in his very… charming… way to proclaim that he’s better than Jason in every way and that Bruce shouldn’t worry about him “getting himself killed” like Jason and Alfred in his very… Alfred… way to try to absolve Bruce of blame in Jason’s death by saying he would have died anyways and there was nothing they could do… as you see Jason is not exactly the best treated character both in and out of universe.

The most memorable instance of someone fully protesting smth like that being said about Jason and fully raging about it was this, when Dick damn near beat Daniel Chase cause he said “we knew this job was dangerous” the literal minute after dick found out Jason died. I mean. Time and place😭

The new titans vol 1 #55

But heres a few instances of Bruce talking about Jason because despite all of this “Jason was angry and rash” bullshit, the first and only person Bruce blames for Jason’s death is himself and nobody else.

Detective comics #790

Gotham knights #45

Anyways I hope that answered the question!! Thank you for the ask :D

#he makes me insane #ugh #unfortunately there’s also the brand of comics where Bruce full on participates in the victim blaming #but there’s also comics where he’s a criminal and child abuser so #pick and choose people… pick and choose what u like…#batman #dc comics #dcu #bruce wayne #batfam #batfamily #dc robin #jason todd #red hood #dick grayson

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thewertsearch · 10 months ago

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@relaxxattack asked: hi, maxx the troll romance guy again. ₊ ⊹ ☆ it’s finally my moment for me to bust out my big quadrant talk! as in, i had the time to sit down and write this. (and apologies in advance for subjecting you to this much nerdiness. hopefully, it’s at least somewhat illuminating, to make up for that). i’m not sure what your current opinions on troll romance are, but i wanted to discuss the idea that kismesissitude is inherently unhealthy / impossible to achieve by teenaged trolls. lots of people who read homestuck get very stuck on the idea that kismesissitude is a feeling of hatred. they run with their human assumptions of this word, imagining that a kismesissitude is an angry, horrible relationship of abuse and hurt. but, if you’ll bear with me, it’s actually shown throughout the comic that this is completely untrue. trolls do not use the word hate the same way that we do. in fact, this is pretty obvious, because they also continuously use the word “pity” in a completely different way than we do. each of these are actually more related to a completely different word: LOVE.

you can see, in this initial conversation surrounding quadrants, that trolls consider hate and pity to actually come from the same exact place (though they consider that a negative thing). you can also see in that conversation that you need a good mix of both for any of the quadrants to work. karkat calls vriska out on supposedly “hating people too much” in a way that would “make her a bad kismesis”. this tells us almost immediately off the bat that A. even other trolls consider vriska and tavros’s relationship unbalanced and unhealthy! and B. each quadrant needs a proper mix of emotions for a proper relationship. a lot of people assume that kismeses are “supposed” to kill each other, mainly because of the fate of jack noir and the queen. this, too, is a misunderstanding. jack noir and the queen, like mom and dad who they are explicitly paralleling, are meant to be regarded as tragic. both couples end in tragedy, as expected for almost every “parental figure” in homestuck; this is unrelated to their kismesissitude.

in fact, in this conversation eridan has with kanaya, it is stated that a kismesissitude that ends in deaths is an extremely rare, powerfully tragic romance that happens “once in ten thousand years”– and immediately after, it is stated that a kismesissitude that might become like this needs an auspistice. that’s right, trolls are so committed to healthy kismesissitudes that they have an entire system in place to stop them from becoming toxic. the vriska/kanaya/tavros auspisticism, while a failure on every conceivable level, was born out of the necessity that the other trolls considered vriska’s torment of tavros unhealthy. even among her fellow trolls, in a society that explicitly encouraged casteiesm and ableism, vriska’s treatment of tavros was still considered too toxic for a proper kismesissitude.

vriska and eridan, who were in a kismesissitude before vriska became bored of eridan, were allies in their roleplaying games. much like the ancestors they were emulating, (who even supposedly “cherished” their own black relationship!); they explicitly traded and shared their rewards and goods with each other because of their romantic relationship with each other, and were said to work together in flarp well enough to be feared by others. of course, they also competed with each other to be the best– because they are rivals– but rivalry does not constitute toxticity. they called each other “allies” and “competitors”. not enemies. though perhaps being enemies would be an interesting kismesis slowburn; in the end, two kismesis should not kill each other. they are on the same team. how could they not be, when trolls believe in one troll who is literally destined to be their perfect rival, a life partner who they must have a long-term relationship with in order to properly meet the alternian drone rules? killing each other makes no feasible sense.

as vriska and eridan talk about here, a rivalry between trolls is something fun for both of them. that is why they must hate each other “equally”-- they need to feel on equal footing, so that they can both have fun. that’s what a rivalry is for trolls. it’s fun! (fun fact: another definition of the word "rival" is "an equal"). (eridan’s pitch solicitation towards sollux is absolutely laughable in comparison. he throws meaningless, casteist insults, and sollux does not give a single fuck about him. as other trolls mention; this is very obviously fake. they are clearly not feeling anything mutual or respectful for each other. he merely is trying to goad feferi into an ashen retaliation with his shitty pitch advances, and it’s not even working.) and that brings me finally to john and karkat. i remember seeing confusion on this blog about the nature of karkat’s feelings– 'why is he helping john? doesn’t he ‘hate’ him? he must not REALLY feel pitch romance for him, and he’s just confused.' well you see, that’s the thing. the reason karkat’s first message to john was a love poem is because that is what kismesissitude is. it was karkat’s way of saying; “you’re special to me. i would like to bug you to see if you feel the same way.” it’s not as if strangely romantic healthy rivalries between teenagers are even an unheard of or new concept. they’re fairly common in television shows and anime; hell there’s even multiple tvtropes pages for them! it’s not impossible that two people in a story could have a healthy rivalry fun enough that they both end up missing it should it be gone. (looking at you, perry and doof.) it’s even more likely that teenagers, as vibrant and strange as their many emotions can be, could pull this off. of course, they make lots of mistakes. they’re young teenagers raised on the murder ableism planet. of course most of the shit they try to do is unhealthy. they make just as many earth-like mistakes with their hearts as they do with their spades. that doesn’t mean it’s impossible for them, or bad for them to try. especially since pairs like vriska and eridan seem to have even pulled it off! basically, what i’m saying is, they’re like sasuke and naruto (reference). let teenagers have hatecrushes! it’s cuter than you think! :P [if it isn’t obvious, this is all super lighthearted and silly. unfortunately it’s my brand to be the guy who’s REALLY passionate about troll romance. i sincerely hope this wasn’t too hard to read, and i’m really sorry about submitting such a long thing, but i couldn’t manage to cut it down any further 😭 have a great rest of your night/day!]

(Images added by me - partially for illustrative purposes, and partially because Tumblr tends to complain when a single block-quote is that large.)

Love love love this detailed breakdown. It outlines a blackrom framework which is a lot more nuanced than the infodump's original description of kismesissitude. There's a lot of really interesting stuff here, and I've actually been working on this response for the past week, while AFKing on my Minecraft server.

As you can imagine, I agree with many of the points raised here, and disagree with others. I think the best approach is to go through the essay point-by-point, and break down my thoughts.

lots of people who read homestuck get very stuck on the idea that kismesissitude is a feeling of hatred[...], imagining that a kismesissitude is an angry, horrible relationship of abuse and hurt. [...] it’s actually shown throughout the comic that this is completely untrue. trolls do not use the word hate the same way that we do. [...]

This one I just fully agree with. The Alternian concept of 'hate' isn't equivalent to ours, and they'll often use it in ways that are completely incompatible with our definition.

When Karkat 'fell in hate' with John, his actual antagonism was very obviously performative. As you mentioned above, several parts of his original rant wouldn't look out of place in a love confession.

Karkat doesn't just message John out of temporal obligation. There's a clear sense, even in their early conversations, that he's enjoying their interactions on some level. If his feelings here really are black romance - and there's no textual evidence that they're not - then this alone is enough to prove kismesissitude isn't true human hatred.

The trolls also use 'hate' in the human sense, too, which muddies the waters a little. It's even highlighted as a problem in-comic, with trolls having to disambiguate their hatred in conversation in much the same way humans disambiguate between platonic and romantic love.

they also continuously use the word “pity” in a completely different way than we do. each of these are actually more related to a completely different word: LOVE. you can see, in this initial conversation surrounding quadrants, that trolls consider hate and pity to actually come from the same exact place (though they consider that a negative thing).

As for pity, I'm still not entirely sure what it means to trolls. Unlike hate, it's only been brought up once, by Karkat.

His 'hate and pity' dichotomy isn't referenced anywhere else in the comic, and it's unclear whether he's describing an accepted fact of life, a sociological theory, or a trope from his beloved romcoms. I don't really have enough data to speculate.

you can also see in that conversation that you need a good mix of both for any of the quadrants to work. karkat calls vriska out on supposedly “hating people too much” in a way that would “make her a bad kismesis”. this tells us almost immediately off the bat that [...] each quadrant needs a proper mix of emotions for a proper relationship.

I believe your assertion here is that each quadrant requires both hate and pity. While definitely an interesting theory, I wasn't able to find canonical evidence that a healthy redrom requires hatred, or that a healthy blackrom requires pity.

I meant what I said, though - it is a compelling theory. If we do read troll 'hatred' as a type of friendly rivalry, then maybe it is important in redrom, serving as the 'spark' that keeps things fresh. Furthermore, if we read 'pity' as something bordering on affection, then it probably is necessary for a healthy blackrom.

I really like the space you're playing in, here. There is something to this idea, and I'd love for Karkat to elaborate on it.

[...] even other trolls consider vriska and tavros’s relationship unbalanced and unhealthy!

Text it! If the full Vriska/Tavros mess was public knowledge, basically everyone would consider Vriska's behavior beyond atrocious, blackrom or no blackrom. I'm not even sure if Eridan would be OK with it - and Gamzee, of course, is currently excluded from this discussion.

If the Veil's trolls are a representative sample of Alternian culture, then Vriska's 'blackrom' with Tavros is just as abusive there as it would have been on Earth. Even Alternia has limits.

a lot of people assume that kismeses are “supposed” to kill each other, mainly because of the fate of jack noir and the queen. this, too, is a misunderstanding. jack noir and the queen, like mom and dad who they are explicitly paralleling, are meant to be regarded as tragic. both couples end in tragedy, as expected for almost every “parental figure” in homestuck; this is unrelated to their kismesissitude. in fact, in this conversation eridan has with kanaya, it is stated that a kismesissitude that ends in deaths is an extremely rare, powerfully tragic romance that happens “once in ten thousand years”

This tracks, as well. If blackrom was allowed to end with murder, then there'd be a lot less soldiers being ferried off the planet every year. Alternian children are a resource to the Empire, and more murder-couples means less murder-platoons.

Vriska does think it would be acceptable for her to murder Tavros, but she frames it as a consequence of classism, not blackrom. This would be much more acceptable to the Empire, as a blueblood like Vriska is destined to be a high-ranking officer. She's not killing a partner, here - she's punishing insubordination.

– and immediately after, it is stated that a kismesissitude that might become like this needs an auspistice. that’s right, trolls are so committed to healthy kismesissitudes that they have an entire system in place to stop them from becoming toxic. the vriska/kanaya/tavros auspisticism, while a failure on every conceivable level, was born out of the necessity that the other trolls considered vriska’s torment of tavros unhealthy. even among her fellow trolls, in a society that explicitly encouraged casteiesm and ableism, vriska’s treatment of tavros was still considered too toxic for a proper kismesissitude.

I won't second-guess the utility of auspisticism in situations like this. It makes perfect sense that the role exists, and it certainly does an important job.

However, once again, I really don't understand the monogamy aspect. Helping a loved one escape a toxic or abusive relationship should not be a one-person job, and enforcing that requirement serves to sabotage what could have been a much more effective social role.

Like - imagine that, upon becoming VrisTav's auspistice, Kanaya's first action was to call for backup. If she was allowed to introduce additional auspistices to the situation, such as Aradia or Terezi, then Vriska wouldn't have been able to continue tormenting Tavros as soon as Kanaya turned her back. It takes a village, guys!

vriska and eridan, who were in a kismesissitude before vriska became bored of eridan, were allies in their roleplaying games. much like the ancestors they were emulating, (who even supposedly “cherished” their own black relationship!); they explicitly traded and shared their rewards and goods with each other because of their romantic relationship with each other, and were said to work together in flarp well enough to be feared by others. of course, they also competed with each other to be the best– because they are rivals– but rivalry does not constitute toxticity. they called each other “allies” and “competitors”. not enemies. [...] as vriska and eridan talk about here, a rivalry between trolls is something fun for both of them. that is why they must hate each other “equally”-- they need to feel on equal footing, so that they can both have fun. that’s what a rivalry is for trolls. it’s fun!

Eridan/Vriska is a relationship I wish we'd seen on-panel, because this one is really hard to picture. Eridan's personality doesn't feel at all compatible with Vriska's, and I don't understand what she saw in him.

Vriska is one of the smartest, most resourceful, most dangerous trolls around, and there was apparently a time she thought of Eridan as a rival. As an equal. All he really has to offer is an overpowered weapon, and Vriska's already got one of those.

Sure, she got bored later, but unless Eridan has some extremely hidden depths, she should have been bored from day one. How did their rivalry even work?

I think the problem here is that we haven't seen any non-toxic kismesissitudes. Vriska/Tavros is a nightmare, Equius/Aradia was mind control, Eridan/Vriska happened offscreen, and John/Karkat never happened at all. It's difficult to extrapolate what a non-awful kismesissitude might look like, when we've only seen the worst the quadrant has to offer. Actually seeing Vriska's spades with Eridan, instead of having it described second-hand, might help to clear this up, but that seems fairly unlikely at this point.

This, at least, is a problem that might solve itself. We've still got a lot of comic to go, and the passion its fandom has for the quadrants makes it clear that they're not going anywhere. I don't think I'll be able to pass my final judgement on kismesissitude until we've seen one that actually works. I really like the idea of a romance centered around friendly rivalry - I just wish the comic would show me one!

and that brings me finally to john and karkat. i remember seeing confusion on this blog about the nature of karkat’s feelings– 'why is he helping john? doesn’t he ‘hate’ him? he must not REALLY feel pitch romance for him, and he’s just confused.' well you see, that’s the thing. the reason karkat’s first message to john was a love poem is because that is what kismesissitude is. it was karkat’s way of saying; “you’re special to me. i would like to bug you to see if you feel the same way.” it’s not as if strangely romantic healthy rivalries between teenagers are even an unheard of or new concept. they’re fairly common in television shows and anime; hell there’s even multiple tvtropes pages for them! it’s not impossible that two people in a story could have a healthy rivalry fun enough that they both end up missing it should it be gone. (looking at you, perry and doof.)

Like, this sounds cool! You're describing a really fun version of kismesissitude, here - one which brings to mind Wright and Edgeworth, Sonic and Shadow, and a dozen other popular couples.

This interpretation would be less dangerous for teenagers - it certainly worked for Lumity - and again, I just hope we eventually see something like this on-panel!

#homestuck liveblog #full liveblog #act 5.2 #asks

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sina-hellow · 2 months ago

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Narinder and Shamura — A Headcanon on Unspoken Feelings

Narinder was never one to wear loneliness plainly on his sleeve, but Shamura must have noticed it. Perhaps that is why, even after Narinder was bound in chains, they offered him Baal and Aym as gifts. Yet Shamura, the eldest among the bishops, was a rational figure who upheld the balance of the Old Faith above all else. They valued duty over emotion. (Many of their lines show little emotional inflection, which supports this interpretation.)

Still, Shamura may have expressed much not with words, but through action. Though they once said, “Mercy is not my name…”, Narinder later recalled them as weak and lacking in wisdom: “Shamura was weak, not wise.” This harsh reflection paradoxically suggests that Shamura was, in truth, far more compassionate than he remembered—perhaps even a guardian-like presence to him. That is why Narinder regarded them as his closest sibling, and likely depended on them more than he realized.

But he was betrayed. His Siblings branded him heretic, and the chains were fastened. Even Shamura—the one he believed would understand—ultimately turned their back on him. His love, unmet and unreciprocated, curdled into resentment.

Did Narinder not foresee Shamura’s rejection? In truth, no—he mistook their neutrality and silence for emotional alliance.

Shamura had encouraged his experiments and withheld judgment more than any other. But that very stillness is what made them the one to watch silently, and pass final judgment when the time came. They allowed, but never accepted. To Narinder, this felt like acceptance. And so, when it turned to rejection, Shamura became the one he hated most.

Why then, did someone as progressive as Shamura reject Narinder’s vision for reform? The answer lies in their words:

“Death must be the end. Otherwise, what use would they have for Gods?”

To Shamura, death was not merely an end—it was the foundation of divine order. By seeking to destroy death, Narinder did not just rebel—he threatened the very balance Shamura was bound to protect.

The tragedy of 'Cult of the Lamb' lies in this: the two who understood each other best could not express their love in words. And so their love became a misunderstanding, and that misunderstanding turned into an irreversible fall. The destruction of the Old Faith was not born from belief alone—but from emotions that were never heard.

※I’m currently planning to translate and sell my unofficial CotL fan comic, which I published in Korea a month ago. The illustrations used in this post are from that comic as well! It’ll take some time, but I’ll work carefully and release it for sale once it’s ready.💪

※This headcanon is quite long, so I’ve attached a separate link to my original KOR (🇰🇷). Read here

#cult of the lamb #cotl #narinder #cotl narinder #shamura #cotl shamura #cotl theory #cotl headcanons

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mysterycitrus · 1 year ago

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This is so stupid but I was wondering if you might have any Dick and Roy meta? I've always loved your meta posts about the relationships between the Fab Five and different characters and lately, I've been seeing a lot of those posts where people splice certain comic pannels with poems/sayings/inspirational quotes and things that match and I've been wanting to have more in-depth ideas of the relationship between Dick and Roy because they're just so interesting but I don't have the brains to come up with anything myself

when i think about dick grayson and roy harper i think about the trope king + lionheart — a burdened hero, and their loyal protector — and how they switch roles with each other. like two standout dickroy books are probably old friends, new enemies and outsiders (2003), and while they’re both initiated with roy reaching out to dick for help, his motivations are very different. i think that dynamic, and how they don’t fit solely into one role, is part of why i enjoy reading about them so much.

in old friends, roy is the king — he’s trying to track down chesire and find lian, and isn’t initially honest about his intentions. he’s struggling with his decisions, and his faith in himself. dick acts as the moral support, his backup, and also calls him out on his actions.

but their relationship is still loving. there’s a solid foundation of trust that makes dick want to support roy and protect his daughter, to the point that he and jade nguyen show a (very) begrudging respect to each other.

in outsiders, dick is the king — donna has just died, bludhaven is going to shit, and roy knows that he’s spiralling. roy is the solid support who convinces dick to lead a new team because he knows dick hurts himself through isolation. they’re both grieving donna and the loss of their team, but roy forces dick to reconnect again. he forces dick to care.

despite being the leader of the outsiders, dick is uncompromising in his loyalty in roy. he tells people to leave if they don’t accept roy’s authority in the team. after roy is shot, dick takes the same action as roy in the first issue — he brute forces his way into getting roy out of the spiral. he holds a gun to roy’s head and tells him to take it.

im a huge sucker for friends to lovers, but what i really love is two competent people with absolute faith in each other. i dislike the idea that bat-characters are like….. absurdly op and everyone is just in awe of them all the time, but dick’s reputation means that trusting someone the way he trusts roy is important. he watched his teammates die, he watched his sister die to save his life, and he still trusts roy to be there. roy historically has a bit of an inferiority complex about working with dick, but dick does not reciprocate. dick knows roy will be there when it counts.

there’s a particular kind of love that comes from mourning the same person during one of the worst times of your life.

the fact that the early tragedies in their lives are so similar, that they lost family and an idea of place at similar ages, were mentored by mortal men who wanted to do good, but still ended up so close but so different is really really interesting to me. u get to outsiders, and they really know each other in a really intense way.

truly like…. i would fall on ur sword because i trust u not to land the killing blow. to finish — something something gay people

#blorbos #dickroy #roy harper #dick grayson #nightwing #arsenal #dc comics #the ask and the answer #teen titans #ty vechter for the webweaves hehehehe #then it totally went to shit in 2009 but dw about that lol

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banmitbandit · 9 months ago

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Pots 'N' Picks Week 2024: Day 7: Breakfast/Lunch/Dinner/Snacks/Dessert/Family/Goodbye

[Dungeon Meshi spoilers (with a big amount of canon divergence) and a long, long caption beneath the Keep Reading]

November 20th, 1484 Dear Senshi, It's been a little over eighty two years since you've been gone. In that time, Merrywinn, the newborn baby you held in your arms days before you passed, became a great-great-grandmother, and her funeral last week was as rancorous as every other half-foot funeral we attended. Soon, it will be my one thousandth birthday, and I can only hope that, like you and Marcille, that's when this curse will finally be lifted, and I can see you again. If that's true, then that means I'm the beginning of an end. Instead of twenty one years, Laios will only have to wait three until he dies after me, and Falin will only have to wait three after that. In twelve years from now, Izutsumi will pass on too, and the six of us will get to share a meal together once again. I've missed your cooking, sure, but most importantly, I've missed you. Do you remember when we first shared that bottle of wine in my new house in Kahka Brud, over nine hundred years ago, before we had the slightest idea that something was wrong? I told you that I didn't want to make you feel the way I felt when Fayfinn left me. You said you didn't care, that it was worth whatever small amount of time you had me. Obviously, it turned out that fate had different plans for us, that the Winged Lion had cursed Marcille too, that we'd each live as long as she would. It's been hard, but since then, you've been there for me every step of the way. When Fayfinn passed, when my girls passed, when their children passed, and theirs too. You've been there for everything, and I'm thankful for it, from the bottom of my heart. I knew I wouldn't be prepared to lose you, and I wasn't. But no matter how much I hurt, Izutsumi was worse, even if she'd never admit it, and I had to be strong for her, too. She's strong and independent, just like she's always been, since the day we met her, but you were the closest thing to a father she ever had. She loved you, Senshi. She said so herself at your funeral. I just hope she doesn't miss me enough to cry at mine. I don't care what dwarves or tallmen or elves think, you and I both know funerals are supposed to be celebrations. Fun is in the name, isn't it? I haven't been okay in a long time, but these days, I feel somewhat peaceful. I have lived my life to the fullest, like any good half-foot should. My birthday gets nearer and nearer with each passing day. Tomorrow, Lochlee, Merrywinn's great-grandson, is helping me collect my things so that I can return to Merini for Laios and Falin's birthday in a few days, and I plan to stay there at the castle until my time is up. I've packed the cheesecake recipe you perfected, and I'm going to sneak it to the cooks whilst Laios isn't looking. I'm sure he'll end up eating yours and Marcille's portions too, but I know you won't mind. After that, it's Marcille's birthday. Then Izutsumi's. Then mine. I'm looking forward to it; like funerals, birthdays are for celebrating. Even elves know that. I can't wait to see you again, Senshi. Yours, -Chilchuck Tims

An AU I proposed back in the Chilshi Nation server a while ago seemed to be a good way to break my heart when rounding off Chilshi week. A lot of people bring up the tragedy of Chilchuck and Senshi's lifespans being so different, and it makes me wonder what it would be like if Marcille's misguided wish had long term consequences.

This wasn't intended to be seven pages long with the lyrics to A Thousand Years by Christina Perri shoved in, but that's what it ended up being. The song seemed a little too perfect not to include.

All of my Chilshi posts were drawn up on the day, and I used them mostly as an excuse to experiment, whether it be posing, body types, shading, comic layouts... My later entries got to be a little more ambitious with what I wanted to do with them, so they're maybe not as polished as I would like them to be, but I hope you can enjoy them anyways.

Whilst I'm here, I'd like to extend a special thankyou to @dumblilracoon for dealing with my awful brainstorming and struggling all week. Couldn't have done this without you. And of course, the Chilshi Nation discord server for being so lovely! :)

If you reblogged or liked or commented on even one of my Chilshi week posts, thankyou so much! Chilshi week has been a blast and working on it and seeing all the lovely art and writing that's come up from it has been a treat.

Happy Chilshi Week, everybody!

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #senshi of izganda #chilchuck tims #chilshi #pots n picks #potsnpicksweek2024

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housmania · 19 days ago

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This is Héctor Oesterheld.

Oesterheld began making comics in the 1940s, at the height of the sci-fi comics boom: when American comic artists were writing about alien invasions, Captain America, and Superman.

But Oesterheld lived in Argentina, where common people had struggled under decades of military dictatorships and imperialist oppression. The national government was more likely to work against them than for them, and strong military powers like the US would happily sacrifice them for personal gain.

These ideas made their way into his work. If aliens invade, there won't be any Avengers-style help for a country like Argentina: the global powers would leave it to struggle by itself. When common people there need to band up against the enemy, they use whatever they have on hand, because they don't have the resources for a Walking Dead-style bunker. The military might try to act, but people distrust them because memories of coups are still fresh. A lone outcast hero can't triumph, because without the support of the powerful, common people need to work together. No one can save themselves alone: Nadie se salva solo.

Oesterheld followed these principles in his personal life, too. He was a spokesman for the Montoneros, a leftist guerrilla group. After Argentina's 1976 military coup, he went into hiding. He delivered the plots of his comics in disguise, or using intermediaries.

In 1977, the military government kidnapped him, and he disappeared. So did his four daughters--two of whom were pregnant--and their husbands. He became one among tens of thousands of Argentines whose fates are unknown: we have reports of torture, of people being drugged and thrown into the sea, of unmarked graves. But individual fates are often unknown, leaving their families forever grieving. The military would often resell children of pregnant imprisoned mothers as adoptees, concealing their origins. Even today, Oesterheld's descendants are looking for the children of his two daughters.

Oesterheld's work has outlived him: his comics are wildly popular in Argentina and have grown a cult following outside it. The importance of collective heroism over individual glory; the need to stand together and find comfort each other; the way ordinary people react in extraordinary tragedy: all these culminated in his best-known work, El eternauta (The Eternaut).

A Netflix adaptation of The Eternaut has just come out. It's incredibly well-made, from the cinematography to the actors (Ricardo Darín, of the Oscar-winning The Secret in their Eyes). Postapocalyptic shows made in the US often strive for a sense of universalism that feels artificial relative to how real and grounded this is. It's filmed in actual locations in Buenos Aires; people use local slang and play truco. You can feel the joy when they're together despite their collective pain.

I've given this long contextual preamble because El eternauta means a lot to Argentines; and because with everything Oesterheld went through, the themes of collective resistance and strength in human connection are really, really well thought out.

The Eternaut is phenomenal, and you should watch it. (If you don't believe me, believe Hideo Kojima!) I promise you the subtitles are worth it. If you're looking to watch more media from outside the US, if you're looking for sci-fi that feels fresh and thoughtful and not like hypercapitalist drivel, this is the show for you. If you want a show where society abandons people but love and friendship still matter, where ordinary people try to deal with the extraordinary, you should watch it.

Maybe saving the world is about the US Army nuking aliens into the sun. But maybe it's about a divorced dad in a duct-taped hazmat suit trying to stop the apocalypse with his game night buddies, while it snows in a city that was always meant to be warm.

#the eternaut #el eternauta #e #long post #show recs

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barrenclan · 10 months ago

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I hope its okay to ask- what motivated you to keep the body count so low? With how often it was reinforced that this was a tragedy, that no one was safe, etc, I'm in an odd spot in which I think, logically, that it makes perfect sense that it happened this way (straight up think its brilliant, actually!! The thematic relevance of Pinepaw accepting the meaninglessness of his life being what stops Deepdark? Poetry, even) but not being able to reconcile that with being somewhat emotionally let down that only two minor characters died aside from Rainhaze (which was a given imo). This isnt a criticism, the more I digest it the more I enjoy it/I realize what a great choice it was - I actually wouldnt want any of it to change- I'm just very very curious about your thought process on this. You already spoke of Asphodel and Rainhaze, but how did you decide who and how many were going to die? Is it more about the *after*, the picking of the pieces after its over? I am so very excited for the picking of the pieces after its over, actually lol.

Real answer: I have far too much I want to explore thematically with nearly all of the characters, and the vast majority of it only happens if a lot of them remain alive.

When I wrote the ending of the comic, I actually struggled to find another character to kill in the attack besides Mallowstar and Rainhaze - like I said when talking about Cypressfoot's death. There were absolutely no more characters beyond her that I was willing to sacrifice, in terms of what they would give me narratively alive versus dead. This was never a story about everything ending in total destruction, anyways - it's a story about learning how to grow after grief and deal with random acts of misery that seem to leave nearly everything unchanged except for the enormous effects they have on you. You often don't get to choose what is going to happen to you and it's up to forces beyond your control if you and your loved ones live or die.

This is a worldview I hold, anyways - the future is entirely fluid and loose, and just as much as terrible things can happen, everything can turn out fine, too. Misery is not the natural state of the world (that's entropy, haha), and the other side of the coin is always possible. But once events happen, they are locked into an unchangeable permanence and you simply have no choice but to try and grapple with how they will affect your unknowable future. You have infinite branching paths, but you'll only follow one once you look behind you... not to get too much into personal philosophy.

Joke answer: SNIFFLE, SNIFFLE, SOB, I DON'T WANNA KILL MY LITTLE GUYS

#ask #anon #chatter

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brazilian-girl02 · 5 months ago

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♥︎ Preciosa hija ♥︎

🌻 Imagine: you, a little girl, living in New York in an orphanage. you didn't know who your biological parents were, besides being a very "mature" child for your age (you weren't mature, you just had to grow up faster than the others);

🌻 Your life was peaceful, but sad. when they finally made friends they were adopted or taken to other orphanages... until one day a couple arrived at the orphanage. For you, it would be another day that you wouldn't be chosen, you've gotten used to this routine in your 10 years of life;

🌻 The couple radiated a welcoming and vibrant energy. When it was your turn to meet them they quickly adored you. his father was named Jefferson Morales, a kind and protective police officer, and his mother was Rio Morales, a Puerto Rican nurse with a maternal aura. they quickly decided it would be you and before you know it you are in the car heading to your new home;

🌻 On the way home, Mama Rio and Papa Jeff were talking to you. They told you about your older brother, Miles Gonçalo Morales, who is at home with Abuela Glória and Uncle Aaron waiting for you. soon you're inside the apartment with Miles showing you your new room with an excited smile;

🌻 It soon seems like you have always been together. You quickly learned Spanish with Mama Rio and Abuela Glória, while being spoiled with lots of comfort food, listening to old songs with Uncle Aaron, laughing at Papa Jeff's jokes, and reading comics with big brother Miles;

🌻 But tragedy strikes, Jeff ends up dying while protecting a child in an armed attack. it was as if the colors were grayer and more blurred;

🌻 Mama Rio started taking more shifts at work to take care of you and Miles... Seeing all this, you decide to try to lessen your mother's load, doing the household chores, doing odd jobs around the neighborhood and building (examples: watering the plants, walking dogs and other work of your choice);

🌻 You end up noticing that Aaron and Miles go out more than usual, especially at night. being worried, you try to talk to your brother and he answers you "don't worry, Hermana, tío and I will take care of everything". even though you are still worried, you decide not to interfere... at the same time an old thief returns to the city, but just different;

🌻 At school, if someone tries to intimidate you in any way, the next day they come back with some bruises and begging for forgiveness;

🌻 With the wave of violence in the city, Mama Rio becomes more worried about you and whenever you go out somewhere else, she asks Miles and Aaron to accompany you or if she is free, she will go with you;

🌻 Aaron's concern shows itself in a different way, he teaches you a little self-defense;

🌻 Miles ends up becoming more taciturn and closed off than before the loss of Jeff, but no matter how much he tries to maintain this chewing, with you he is softer and more careful;

🌻 Hobbies that relate most to Mama Rio: Cooking(spending hours in the kitchen preparing meals from an old cookbook by Abuela Glória), Reading(for me, Mama Rio loves fiction books and is a big fan of authors like Gabriel García Márquez , Tony Morisson, Angela Davis and many other authors) and Watch series (it can be series, films or documentaries, Mama Rio will be on your side of the sofa watching everything);

🌻 Hobbies that relate to Uncle Aaron: Music (whether listening to or producing a song, Aaron is always happy to give you feedback or help you in some way, as well as recommending music from his and Jeff's younger days for you to listen to) and Sports (it could be basketball, gymnastics, swimming or even ice skating. he will take you to training and if he doesn't know much about the sport, he will research it to help you);

🌻 Hobbies that relate to Big Brother Miles: Visual Arts (if you want to do graffiti, paint, draw, he will always be there. Or if you don't have much skill in that, he wastes no time in helping you and giving you tips) Nail arts (no don't mind painting your nails, as long as you don't use very flashy colors) and Hair (it doesn't matter the curvature of your hair, it "magically" knows how to do hairstyles and even paint, and you, together with Mama Rio, are one of the few people that can touch his hair);

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and that's it, I hope you like it. I also want to thank everyone who read my last posts and who knows, maybe I'll make another surprise for you like the one in the Batfamily post 🤭

#yandere spiderverse #yandere miles morales #earth 42 #female reader #reader insert #platonic yandere

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