#it is interesting what the difference between responses is

[darkwicks]

Homecoming

You’re a casual fan, you think. Spider-Man is cool, and you just really like him. That’s all... until you learn that the friendly neighbourhood web-slinger is so much closer than you think.

PAIRING.⠀Xia Yizhou | Caleb x Reader

CONTENT.⠀female reader | superhero AU & Spider-Man Caleb | descriptions of anxiety, fluff, happy ending, mentions of blood and bruises, secrets, slice-of-life (as much as it can possibly be), some angst and hurt/comfort | ~7,6k words

A/N.⠀I really said "I'm going on a writing hiatus" and "I'm gonna lock in" with my whole chest knowing damn well I'm a liar ... anyway yeah this fic was inspired by this Spider-Man Caleb fanart... it made me go crazy.... I hope you enjoy!

available on AO3 | reblogs and comments are always appreciated!

@hunters-association @theseabreezestreet

You were on the verge of a breakthrough. You just knew it.

You were absentmindedly swinging your legs back and forth as you sat at the table. Your laptop was open and displaying several windows—some were images of Spider-Man, some were news articles. Your tablet, and in turn, your notes, had gone completely forgotten. Spending time passively scrolling social media was far from productive, but compared to what you were reading, exam revision was totally dull.

Developing an interest in Spider-Man had been unintentional. You saw him mentioned in the news. Out of curiosity, you looked him up, and all of a sudden, you found yourself deep in the rabbit hole. Before long, you were up-to-date with daily news, keeping up with his movements and making friends with fellow Spider-Man fans. It was swift and unexpected, but you found it more fun than whatever you were previously doing.

He was far from the first superhero Linkon City had seen. There used to be rumours about the God of the Tides and how he ruled the seas for centuries before he found the love of his life. There was also Lumière of the N109 zone, a vigilante who suddenly stopped being active about fourteen years ago. Legends of the Abysm Sovereign and the Foreseer were passed down through generations. No one had proof they existed, only the product of their labour. It was as if they didn’t want to be seen. Still, that didn’t stop your interest from getting piqued.

The difference between Spider-Man and the past legends of Linkon City was that Spider-Man was still active. A web-slinging genius with a no-kill rule, he made the streets significantly safer. Photos and surveillance footage of him were constantly shared, but no one had any luck finding his identity yet. You weren’t investigating him for malicious reasons. You were just, for the lack of a better word, nosy. You wanted to know the man behind the mask instead of the neighbourhood guardian the news always talks about.

You looked at your screen. There was a rough timeline of his appearances the past week. He was in different parts of the city, catching robbers and other criminals with his presumably handmade technology. There wasn’t a strict pattern to how he operated. It seemed that he liked to lurk before making a move. It was how he brought down the corrupted colonels of the Farspace Fleet. Fighting crime appeared to be easy for him, and he wasn’t as destructive as some were. It was impressive. Everything he did had you in awe. His dexterity and swiftness, his strength and courage—he was just what Linkon City needed, you thought.

Just as you were about to go into another deep dive, a hand pushed your laptop shut. Caleb was towering over you when you snapped your gaze to him, brows furrowed as you gave him an offended look. He lightly jabbed your forehead and only smiled in response, seemingly pleased with your reaction.

“You’re supposed to be studying.”

You sputtered. “I was studying!”

“No, you weren’t. You were looking at Spider-Man again.” He tapped his fingers on your tablet, reilluminating the screen once more. “Your exams are next week. You need to focus.”

“I can multitask,” you argued half-heartedly. “And, I’ve never let you down, have I?”

Caleb took the seat across from you with an exaggerated sigh. “I guess not.”

“Why do you hate Spider-Man so bad anyway?” You frowned, trying to move his hand away. He didn’t budge. “He’s keeping the city safe. That’s a good thing!”

“I don’t hate him, but you’ve been distracted. I’m trying to help you.”

“You sound jealous,” you joked. Resting your cheek in the palm of your hand, you looked up at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes. “Are you sad I’m not giving you enough attention?”

He pursed his lips, visibly unimpressed. “Set the table. Dinner’s ready.”

“You’re no fun!” you whined. “It’s not my fault there’s finally something interesting!”

You begrudgingly moved your items to the side and got up to make your way to the kitchen, slippers sliding against the floor. The savoury aroma swirled into the air, making your stomach growl involuntarily. Your irritation now forgotten, you made quick work of setting the table and pouring two glasses of water. With your job finished, you waited at the table, eyes drifting over to the TV on the wall. The screen displayed two reporters behind a desk beginning the evening segment. It faded into a clip of men webbed stuck to a lamppost, undoubtedly the work of Spider-Man himself. They were looking to rob an innocent passerby before the webslinger caught them red-handed.

“Huh. That’s where we live,” you spoke up after rereading the headline.

Caleb placed the plates on the table. “That’s why I always tell you to be home before curfew.”

“It’s not like I break curfew anyway,” you grumbled. “You know I hate being out when it’s dark.”

Distracted, you kept your eyes on the screen. The public had mixed opinions about Spider-Man himself. You, along with your circle of friends, thought of him as a hero, feeling safer knowing that he was out there protecting innocent people. From helping an old woman cross the street to busting evil plans, he was using his talents and intelligence for good. He worked tirelessly every day to keep the streets pristine and harmless. The police, on the other hand, weren’t as fond of him. The LCPD openly expressed their distaste for Spider-Man, citing that he was an obstacle in their investigations. Some people thought he was just another guy with a gimmick. These criticisms didn’t seem to bother him at all. If anything, every time someone said anything negative about him, he’d work even harder just to prove them wrong.

You knew it was far from wise to idolise a public figure, but with Spider-Man, he inspired you to do your best every day. You liked to imagine he’d be proud of you if he knew you. You worked hard and powered through no matter how many setbacks you had. As silly and childish as it sounded, he made for great motivation. He was a good guy, he was cool, and—

Caleb waved his hand in front of your face, a warning tone in his voice. “Pipsqueak.”

You jolted, snapping back to the present. “Sorry!”

“Why do you like Spider-Man so much?” he asked, poking at his food. “You got a crush on him?”

You sputtered. “What? No!”

He gave you a look that urged you to continue. Heat rose to your face as you felt a spotlight shining down upon you, giving you the floor. It was hard not to feel embarrassed about something that felt so childish. You hummed thoughtfully, trying to think of words to say. Knowing you were going to sound like a child regardless, you sulked, defeated, and finally gave him a response.

“It’s just… I really like superheroes,” you mumbled timidly, fiddling with your fingers. “I admire people who use their strength for good. Like you!”

The corners of his lips twitched. He seemed pleased. “So do you like me or Spider-Man more?”

“You are jealous!” you said with an accusatory tone. “Caleb, it’s not like that! It’s like… You know when you have a favourite celebrity? That’s what Spider-Man is to me.”

He made a face, though he ended up relenting. “Okay. I get it.”

“Yeah! It’s kinda like how you used to like—”

“Your food’s gonna get cold,” he interrupted, flustered. “I put all my effort into making your favourite. Don’t let it go to waste.”

“Fine,” you drawled out, unable to hold back the smile from stretching across your lips.

Spider-Man eventually faded to the back of your mind throughout dinnertime. You found yourself engrossed in conversation with Caleb, slipping into the normal banter and routine with ease. Somewhere in between, he changed the channel to natural documentaries instead. When you gave him a questioning look, he just shrugged and said that you should take a break with him. Not one to deny his requests, your laptop went forgotten as you spent the remainder of the night on the couch with him.

It was nearing midnight, and from the way that you yawned, you were nearing your limit as well. The documentary was long finished; the past few minutes were just advertisement after advertisement, regular products with unnecessarily catchy jingles. You glanced over at him, suddenly curious. Unlike you, he didn’t seem to be tired at all. If you were more awake, you’d notice the anxious bouncing of his leg or the worried furrow in his brow, but fatigue was catching up to you fast. With another yawn, you pushed yourself to your feet, taking the throw blanket with you.

“Goodnight, Caleb.”

He smiled at you. “Goodnight. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Fully sated and worn out, sleep came as easily as breathing. Images flickered behind your eyes, displaying dreams and vignettes in film reels. You dreamt of endless summers and sweetness, of growing up and exploring the world. When you woke up the next day, only a fragment of those memories remained. Caleb was already gone when you left your room. He left a note saying he’d left early and that breakfast was in the fridge. After treating yourself to his homemade cooking, you set off for classes and got the day started. It wasn’t very eventful. Classes weren’t particularly interesting. Lectures were about things you already knew, and a majority of your classmates were absent, leading to little to no conversation. Before long, the academic day was over, and it was time to return home.

The streets were bustling with activity as you waded through the crowd. Clamour and chatter were more than loud, people surrounded you, and the scent of car fumes mixed with savoury food bombarded all of your senses. You were starting to see now why people liked to say that Linkon City never sleeps. With everyone getting off work, the city was beyond crowded. Restaurants were fully seated, as were the cafés. Traffic went by incredibly slowly. Dogs barked to the sound of car horns and people were emerging from the train station in groups. You gripped your bag tightly, anxiety clawing at the back of your mind. News and posters about pickpockets were nearly a regular occurrence; it was better to be safe than sorry.

You managed to make it to a street where there were less people. You recognised some of the vendors out and about, offering them warm smiles as you walked past. Occasionally, you stopped by and bought a few snacks to take home. Now having your hands full, you were more than ready to go home and unwind. You hummed a catchy pop tune under your breath, leisurely walking down the path when the TV screens in the electronic stores came alive. You came to a stop, standing in front of the clear glass. It was a news segment. You couldn’t hear what they were saying, but the screen displaying surveillance of Spider-Man was context enough.

He single-handedly stopped a burglary, moving with inhuman agility and fighting with incredible strength. It showed a group of men bound together by his webs, cursing and fruitlessly struggling to break free. It took a few seconds before the familiarity of the background sank in. The convenience store, the townhouses and the DVD store… The incident happened not too far from home. A frown overtook your features. Despite the crime rate being significantly lower thanks to Spider-Man’s efforts, the curfew was still in place, and the unrest remained. It was not any different for you.

As you made a move to continue your walk, you felt something being snatched from your grasp—your bag. The thief ran at full speed, deftly navigating through the crowd as you yelled for help and followed him, aggressive footfalls slapping against the concrete. Absentminded apologies left your lips whenever a complaint was heard from a passerby. Your chest was beginning to ache, but you needed it back. It had everything. Your phone, your wallet, your house keys with the chain Caleb bought for you. You couldn’t afford to lose it.

The traffic light turned red just as the thief crossed to the other side. You contemplated just dashing through, but anxiety kept you rooted to your spot. They were going further into the distance. You bounced on your heels nervously, eyes glaring at the timer. 40, 39, 38…

It was now or never.

Cars honked at you as you ran to the other side, the combination of noise nearly sending you jumping out of your skin. You pushed through your fatigue and kept running until you tripped over your shoelaces, collapsing to the ground with a loud thud. You hopelessly reached out, watching the thief’s silhouette disappear into the distance. Tears of frustration sprang up to your eyes and you buried your face in your hands, uncaring of how you looked to other people. You weren’t fast enough. All your important things were gone, about to be left somewhere you could never find, and your information would be stolen—

“This yours?”

Your bag was dangling in front of you. Were you so distraught that you were hallucinating having someone come to your aid? You blinked and stared at it dumbly, your mind trying to grapple with the situation. The person crouched down to your level, and Spider-Man’s face came into view.

Wait…

You screamed in surprise, frantically pushing yourself away from him. “What—”

“Hey, hey, It’s okay. It’s just me. I webbed him. He’ll be stuck there for another three hours,” he said casually, speaking as though he was just another regular pedestrian and not the famed vigilante of Linkon City. “I had to look at your ID card to make sure it was you, but I’m glad I got to you in time. Here, take it.”

You barely managed to catch the bag as you were still gawking at him. What felt like a thousand questions were popping up rapidly in your head. How did he know? When did he get here? What was going on? How was he so fast? Caught off guard by your stunned silence, he brought a hand up to scratch the back of his head sheepishly, feeling awkward under your stare.

“Everything okay?” Spider-Man asked tentatively, waving a hand in front of your face. “Are you hurt?”

You shook your head, your reaction slightly delayed. “N-No.”

“Listen, I have to go. There’s gonna be a robbery on Ninth Street.” He helped you get on your feet, carefully making sure you had your balance. “Get home safe, okay? And don’t leave past curfew.”

“Okay,” you said, dumbfounded. It didn’t take long before you managed to snap yourself back to awareness. “Yeah, okay. Thank you for getting this back to me.”

He did a casual salute before aiming his web shooter at a building, swinging away with ease. Digging through your bag, you were relieved to find that everything was intact. Once the confusion went away, excitement came rushing in. You hastily grabbed your phone and dialled Caleb’s number, lips curling into a grin. He picked up after the first ring.

“What’s up?”

“You will not believe what just happened to me,” you said in one breath. “I just met Spider-Man.”

A loud crash was heard in the background.

You hesitated. “Are you busy? It sounds like you’re in the middle of something…”

“Everything’s fine, don’t worry about it. So, you met Spider-Man?”

You nodded, forgetting that he couldn’t see you.

“Uh, pipsqueak?”

“What? Oh, yeah. I did! I’m walking home right now. Someone tried to steal my wallet and I couldn’t catch them, but Spider-Man did and he got it back for me. Isn’t that crazy?”

“Someone tried to rob you?” You could practically hear the frown in his voice. “Why didn’t you call me?”

You blinked. “You’re at work. What were you gonna do?”

He fell silent. It took a couple of beats before he spoke up again.

“Well, I’m glad you got your stuff back. Just make sure to be home before sundown. Tell me when you’re back, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I’ll be back in time for dinner, I promise.”

“It’s okay! Take your time,” you reassured him. “I’m heading home now. See you.”

You had a pep in your step for the rest of the way, feeling in high spirits after the encounter. The weight on your shoulders was lifted, leaving you feeling lighter. You didn’t realise how much you needed to breathe. Relieved would be an understatement—it was as if everything fixed itself in front of you. You didn’t generally consider yourself a lucky person, but today, you had won. The encounter with Spider-Man replayed itself in your mind, echoing his voice, reminding you of the proximity you shared.

After sending Caleb a quick text to let him know you got back safely, you began to cool down from the day. You tossed your keys on the counter and went straight for your room, determined to change out of your sweaty clothes. Since he was normally the one to cook dinner, you didn’t have to do much preparation in the kitchen. You put away the clean dishes, washed the leftover ones in the sink, and decided to tidy up a little. With your tasks done, you returned to the living room and flopped down onto the couch with a groan. Though you didn’t hold high expectations for what was on TV, you turned it on for background noise anyway, half-listening to the dialogue in the show that was playing.

The clock on the wall continued to tick. Caleb would get off work soon. You ended up smiling to yourself, excited to tell him about your day. Lying comfortably on the couch, you continued to passively scroll through social media to kill time. You were beginning to hear the telltale sounds of people returning home. The sound of a car door closing, your neighbour’s doorbell ringing, eager dogs overjoyed to see their owner home. Considering the traffic you’d seen earlier, Caleb returning a little later than usual wouldn’t be that irregular.

With that in mind, your worries were eased a little. But as minutes faded into hours, nighttime came, and not a single call or message from Caleb was seen. Worried, you sent him a text, only for them to be left on delivered. Calling him led straight to voicemail. Growing increasingly agitated, you called him again and again, only to achieve the same result. He always told you if he was going to be late. He always picked up after the first ring. But your attempts to get through to him went unseen, and it was getting harder trying not to sink into your anxiety the longer his silence went.

You paced around the room, fingers clutching your phone as the call went to voicemail again. Your eagerness for dinner had long dissipated and was replaced by immense dread. Worst-case scenarios were starting to appear in your mind, fuelling your panic with its increasingly violent visions. You chewed on your nail as you paced back and forth, trying to reach Caleb to no avail. The situation was growing more dire with each passing second.

You glanced at the time. It was three in the morning. You were wide awake on pure adrenaline and distress. You couldn’t bring yourself to feel tired. It was as though all of your senses were on high alert. Everything was too loud, too much, and your clothes felt rough against your skin. Instinctively, you made your way into his room and crawled into his bed, hugging his pillow and rocking back and forth. The smell of his detergent and perfume soothed you enough to have you breathing normally again. Your fingertips dug into the material, knuckles going white and shaking from how rigid your grip was.

The world started to feel less daunting when you finally calmed down. You felt exhausted, completely boneless. Your eyelids were getting heavier, and as you lay there surrounded by everything he owned, you found yourself falling slowly. The room is dim with only the city lights outside peeking in through the curtains. You felt a cold draft coming through the window, sending shivers running down your spine. Fabric rustled and you felt the mattress dip, immediately jolting you awake. A mixture of relief and fury washed over you.

“Caleb?”

His breath hitched.

You blindly patted the nightstand in search of the lamp switch. Once the room was illuminated, you squinted at him through half-lidded eyes. “Where the hell have you been?” you asked groggily. “I’ve been—”

Your eyes dropped to his outfit. It was the same suit that Spider-Man wore, although more torn and worn down. Whatever tiredness was left in your system dissipated when you saw him. You sat still for a few moments, trying to contemplate whether you were imagining things or if this was real. You didn’t know where to begin. It was as if time stopped. There he was, the person you had been waiting for, standing at the foot of the bed like a deer caught in the headlights. You stared at him with your mouth agape, your mind struggling to put the pieces together despite the obviousness in front of you.

You didn’t know where to begin. Did he always sneak back home like this? What happened to him? In the end, you settled for the most urgent one in your mind—

“How long have you been hiding this from me?”

He forced a smile, the gesture awkward and tense. “A couple of months.”

“Months?” you asked, voice rising in volume. “You’ve been—you—god, I don’t even know what to say.”

“I’m sorry.”

You pursed your lips. “Come here.”

He tentatively complied, sitting down in the spot next to you. Your hands cradled his face, thumbs brushing over the bruises and making him grimace slightly. He didn’t say a single word. It was as if he was also dumbfounded himself. You were still upset, but the longer you looked at him, the more the anger faded. At least he was home. Injured, but still home in one piece. It was leagues better than the thousands of scenarios your mind was conjuring up earlier.

“You have a lot of explaining to do.”

“I know,” he murmured, voice uncharacteristically meek. It was unlike the Caleb you grew up with.

“But it can wait,” you said, pulling him into a hug. “I’m just glad you’re okay. I was worried about you.”

His arms wrapped themselves around your waist and he held you close to him, a shaky breath escaping his lips. He held onto you with a desperation you’d never seen before. He relaxed into your touch just the slightest, reassured by feeling your warm body against his. You pressed your cheek to where his heart would be, feeling its steady rhythm remind you that he was here—that he was home.

Your voice was meek when you spoke. “I thought you left me.”

“I didn’t want to worry you.”

“So you decided with radio silence?” you snarked back. Something in his expression flickered, making you calm down once again. You frowned at the amount of bruises visible on his face and the dried blood on his split lip. Softening, you told him, “Go take a shower and get changed. I’ll patch you up.”

He didn’t argue. He only nodded and disappeared into the bathroom, walking sluggishly. The sound of running water filled the stifling stillness as you took a proper glance around the room. There was an evidence board, several open books, and a well-used first aid kit on the desk. Your heart sank. Just how long had he been doing this, getting himself hurt and having to mend himself? Didn’t he trust you? Why did he keep this a secret from you? You heaved out a sigh and hid your face in your hands, frustration and sadness simmering beneath the surface.

There were a lot of questions you wanted to ask, but this wasn’t the right time. Right now, all you could do was be there for him.

He emerged a handful of minutes later, dressed in comfortable clothes. You scooted over and patted the space next to you, lips pressed in a taut frown. Now that the suit was off, you could see the hits he’d taken more clearly. Splashes of blue and purple were scattered across his skin, some big and some small. There were a couple of cuts and scrapes close by, both old and new. It was the worst you’d ever seen him.

“Sit,” you urged timidly. You gingerly applied the ointment on his bruises, careful not to hurt him as he stared up at you. He looked so vulnerable and so fragile that it made you feel like your heart was going to burst out of its confines. “Talk to me. Please.”

“It was Gran,” he said. “She made a serum. I didn’t know it until a few days later. I was stronger, faster… I could hear everything. I could feel everything.”

“How come I never knew this?”

“I didn’t want to worry you. I’m supposed to be your hero, remember?” He laughed in a self-deprecating way, avoiding your gaze. “I had to stay strong. Figure things out, get stronger… Make sure you’d always be safe.”

Setting the first aid kit aside, you pulled him into your arms once again. He held onto you tightly, fingers grabbing the fabric of your shirt so tightly that his hands were trembling. You raked your fingers through his hair and brushed them back, keeping them away from the wounds on his face. For a moment, it felt like there were only the two of you in the world. All you could hear was his quiet breathing as he latched onto you, unwilling to let go.

It broke your heart to see him this way.

“I’m sorry I made you feel like you couldn’t rely on me.”

“No, that’s not it,” he sighed. “I’d go through anything for you. I just… I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Then don’t keep any secrets from me anymore.” You pulled away. He looked up at you with a pained expression, years of secrecy and isolation making themselves known in his glossy eyes, the quiver of his bottom lip. “Can you do that for me?”

He nodded weakly.

“I need words, Caleb,” you said, your voice firmer than intended. You cupped the side of his face, feeling him clasp your hand with his own, warm and calloused. “Can you promise me that?”

“I can,” he exhaled shakily. “I promise.”

The tears you were holding back brimmed at the corners of your eyes, small droplets sliding down the sides of your face. A hushed whimper broke out of you. Caleb held on to you like you were his lifeline, refusing to let go for even a split second. The gravity of his words weighed heavy, as did him baring his heart. He melted in your embrace, sinking deep into your comfort as you gently scratched his scalp, easing every worry he was holding.

“Don’t lie to me again, okay?” you murmured into his ear.

“I won’t anymore. I swear.”

—

Though months seemed to have passed in the blink of an eye, the emotional turmoil stayed deep in your heart the entire time.

Life had turned completely upside down. With the new knowledge of him being Spider-Man looming over you, you were having trouble placing yourself. Some days, you felt excited and happy for him. He was more open with you when it came to his successes. He’d tell you about the petty criminals he caught or the passersby he helped while swinging through the city. He was passionate about his identity as Spider-Man, and he was committed. You wanted to support him in every step of the way. Some days, you’d feel like you were sinking. You previously didn’t worry all too much when Caleb returned home late, but since that day, fear and anxiety kept you company on lonely nights.

He didn’t always return looking completely beat up. Sometimes he was unscathed. Sometimes it was just a couple of bruises. But you hated being home alone, especially in the dark where everything seemed to get much worse. You were losing sleep because you’d stay up to wait for him to come home. You needed to see him with your own eyes, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to go to sleep in peace. He tried to give you estimated times to soothe you, but it didn’t always work. You’d wait in the living room, rock yourself back and forth as you wondered if he was coming home.

Your mind wouldn’t let you forget that he lied, either. You already forgave him a long time ago, but you remembered. You’d question yourself, question him, and what would come after was an overwhelming sense of guilt. He was trying. He was more open. He was showing you an important part of himself, bringing you along with him on his journey, yet doubts still lingered in your mind. He kept his cheerful disposition, constantly reassuring you that everything was going to be fine, but your mind was filled with what-ifs. What if he was hiding more from you? What if he was lying? What if he thought of you as a burden?

It was irrational to feel this way. You knew that very well, and yet, you still felt like you were fading out of his life. You talked to Caleb normally, interacted with him like you always did, but something felt different. It was as if he was drifting further and further away from you. Your outstretched hand, desperately trying to reach him, and his fading silhouette. Everything had changed. You felt like you were losing him in real time and there was nothing you could do about it. Everything had changed, yet it was all the same. You still had breakfast together. He still picked up the phone after the first ring. He still smiled at you, looked at you like you were his whole world. You were teetering between security and uncertainty. You didn’t want to feel this way, but you were helpless. These feelings came by themselves, and the more time you spent alone, the more difficult it became to ignore them.

Your sentiments towards Spider-Man had only grown stronger with the knowledge that Caleb was him. His name was more well-known in the city, growing popular among kids and women, and he was constantly being praised by the press. You supported him. You had total faith in him, trusted in him and his strength. But sometimes you’d stay awake stressing about how safe things truly were. More fame meant more notoriety among criminals, and you’d often wonder how long it would be before something drastic happened. You wanted the best for him, you really did, but something guttural gnawed at you. The desire to keep him to yourself, the need to protect him. You wanted to sink your teeth into his flesh, to keep him in your maw. You wanted to hide him away somewhere only you knew.

You dreamt of it sometimes—of risking your life for him just to keep him safe. You constantly wondered if things would be easier for him if you left. You knew there was much that he wasn’t sharing with you yet. You knew it would take time regardless of how much he trusted you, Still, you felt as though you were being kept in the dark. Being Spider-Man seemed to be so easy for him. It suited him, even. You couldn’t see anyone else doing the same thing that he did. But you didn’t know what you were meant to be. You felt for him very deeply, as did he, but the vagueness in the air bothered you more and more every day.

Were you only being selfish?

You thought back on one of the mornings you spent with him. A full spread of breakfast lay across the table and the news played in the background. The sun was shining bright, peeking through the gap between the curtains, and the weather was good. But there was a sense of foreboding that loomed over you, one that you couldn’t keep to yourself. You called his name softly, leading him to look away from the screen.

“Are you okay?” you asked. He blinked at you, confused by the question.

“Yeah. Everything’s fine.”

Somehow, it wasn’t enough.

“Are you okay?”

You didn’t know.

“I’m good. Sorry, I just thought you looked a little distracted.”

The lie slipped out of you with ease. You felt childish. You felt burdensome for needing reassurance from him that he wasn’t going to leave you behind, but you could never bring yourself to say it. Between your pride and the overwhelming fear of rejection, the words you desperately wanted to stay would remain within the confines of your mind. He didn’t seem to be convinced by any means, but he didn’t push the matter. A part of you wished he did.

It wasn’t a fight. There was nothing wrong. Even when he returned home blood and bruised, exhausted out of his mind, you took care of him with love and care. It didn’t matter that you didn’t understand why he was risking his life. Caleb never broke his promises or broke away from the path to his goals. He wasn’t about to let you stop him. With great power comes great responsibility, he said. But was this responsibility thrust upon him, or was he doing it out of his volition?

You hated feeling helpless. You knew he didn’t need you to do anything, but you felt like you weren’t an integral part of his life anymore. You felt like a bystander, like someone he was slowly forgetting. You shouldn’t feel this way. You should feel happy that he still cared about you, that he cared about the city to give his all into protecting it, yet your mind just wouldn’t let you. Your thoughts on Caleb hadn’t changed. You still thought he was the most important person to you, but what used to be admiration and even love for Spider-Man was turning into resentment little by little.

Some days, you hated him. You felt like a little kid without her favourite toy. You felt like a lonely child in a class full of people. You knew it was useless to dwell on these things, so you tried to occupy yourself. You put all your effort into your studies. You kept yourself busy doing chores even on the days when it was his turn. You didn’t wait to eat dinner with him; you went out for food and drinks with your friends, came back a bit later than the sunset. It wasn’t as if he’d notice. He wasn’t home when you needed him to be.

His name was constantly trending on social media. Spider-Man rescues bus from hijackers. Spider-Man stops bank robbery. Spider-Man comics and merchandise releasing. His name became the talk of the town, earning the attention of the rest of the country. The newfound fame kept him even busier to the point where people were starting to dig deeper into his true identity, leading fans and investigators to wait outside your home. You kept ignoring them, but they were persistent. Your declining of their questions only made them more curious. Not only did you feel like he was slipping out of your grasp, but also like the safety of home was in jeopardy.

It wasn’t his fault. You couldn’t blame him for it. But sometimes you wondered if he knew just how much this was affecting you, as self-centred as it seemed. The satisfaction you expected from uncovering the truth about Spider-Man never came. The final piece of the puzzle was right in front of you, living and breathing under the same roof as you were, and all you could harbour was disappointment.

What Caleb was doing was major. He was keeping the city safe—keeping his home safe, for you and everyone. You found yourself sinking further into guilt and bitterness, the light at the surface growing smaller as you fell deeper and deeper. It was childish of you to be throwing a tantrum over something like this. So, you decided to grin and bear it. He understood you like the back of his hand; doing the same to him was the very least you could do. You pestered him less about his missions, stopped trying to call again and again when he didn’t respond. He’d always come home, even if it took days. He never broke promises. He promised he wouldn’t.

If he noticed the change in you, he didn’t mention it. His actions, however, said otherwise. He did his best to pay more attention to you. He tried to spend as much time with you as he could despite your conflicting schedules. He listened to everything you spoke about, promised you to be careful when you asked, and continued to protect you in his own way. You didn’t know exactly what it was that seemed to switch the dynamic completely, but at a certain point, you were no longer drowning in the pool of negativity. The sun seemed to shine brighter, the flowers in full bloom, and your cheeks ached from how much you’d been smiling. The lingering sense of foreboding faded into nothingness, replaced by pure optimism and trust. The future didn’t feel so glum anymore.

You supposed all you needed was time.

Time to heal, time to process everything. Time had a way of turning wounds into scars, healing phantom pains into a comfortable stillness. The claws that had your heart in a death grip had loosened, letting go of the chains they wrapped around it. You felt lighter, happier. Some semblance of normalcy had returned—as normal as it could be considering his dual life, but you weren’t going to take it for granted. You felt like you could finally breathe after being underwater for so long. Even here, where you were alone in the apartment, you didn’t feel lonely. It was… normal. A relief. It didn’t feel so suffocating anymore.

It was quiet save for the sound of your nails tapping against the keyboard. It was a sunny afternoon. Having had a productive morning, you aimed to finish the rest of the day in the same way. You were focused and determined to finish the essay quickly so you had more free time. But as the hours went by, that determination waned, and you found yourself at a dead end. You blankly stared at the blinking cursor on the word document. It almost felt like the thing was mocking you. Fatigue and boredom were catching up to you increasingly quickly. You knew the material by heart. You knew what you wanted to talk about. Yet no words came to mind—you were drawing a blank, and the thoughts in your mind were already drifting off elsewhere.

The counter was littered with snacks, surely something Caleb would chide you for. Your tumbler was long empty, left with nothing but melted ice cubes at the bottom. The dishes awaited cleaning in the sink and the TV remained turned on, playing a rerun of some generic soap opera. Defeated, you closed the word document, eyes drifting to the window beside you.

Outside, the skyline was painted in hues of orange and blue. Birds flew over the horizon, ready to migrate elsewhere for the upcoming spring. Your chest rose and fell with your exhale as you let your mind wander. You used up your creativity for the day, you thought. You haven’t made significant progress on the essay since you started it a few hours ago. Before you could beat yourself up about it, three loud knocks were heard from the window. Caleb’s masked face peeked over the wall as he gave you a gentle wave. Giddy, you got off your chair and skipped over, fingers deftly undoing the lock on its doors. You slid it open, allowing him to crawl in.

“I thought you were busy fighting crime,” you teased, watching as he took the mask off. His hair was tousled and his cheeks were flushed from exertion. “Are you slacking off?”

He huffed, amused. “I can multitask.”

He unhid his hand from his back and handed you a large bouquet of sunflowers, the gesture immediately making you melt. Flowers weren’t that out of the ordinary. Caleb liked bringing you gifts and trinkets he thinks you’d like. You got an equally large bouquet during your high school graduation and another one when you were accepted into university. You took it with a smile, murmuring a quiet ‘thank you’ and curiously looking at him. He bounced on the heels of his feet, seemingly nervous about something. His brows knitted together.

“You okay?”

He met your gaze. “Do you still think Spider-Man is better than me?”

You blinked a few times, confused. From the way he said it, it appeared that it wasn’t the first time he thought of something like this. You chuckled and crossed your arms over your chest, shifting your weight to the other leg.

“Getting jealous of yourself, Caleb?” It was your turn to be amused. “I never said he was my number one hero.”

“You never said I was your number one hero either.”

You sighed in mock exasperation. “Why is this important? You’re the same person.”

“I just wanna know,” he said, uncharacteristically sheepish.

“First of all, that happened once,” you corrected, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “Second of all, I love you. Spider-Man or not.”

His lips curled into a smile. “You love me?”

Warmth blossomed across your chest, rising all the way up to your cheeks as your lips parted in surprise, sputtering incoherent syllables. You awkwardly turned your head away, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. Love had never been discussed, not really. It just felt like an unspoken commitment since you were children. He was the most important person to you, and you were the most important person to him. You never really thought about labelling your relationship.

Your eyes widened when you remembered you always referred to him as your partner whenever you spoke of him to your friends. You already gave it a label without realising it. You opened and closed your mouth like a fish, struggling to come up with a reply. You could feel his gaze on you, hear the satisfaction and mischief in his words. Clearing your throat, you tried to compose yourself and decided to follow through. You couldn’t take it back anyway, and even if you could, you didn’t want to.

“Yeah. I do,” you said, feigning indifference. “I thought you knew that.”

He couldn’t stop the smile from expanding into a grin. A breathless chuckle left him. His cheeks seemed to be getting even pinker as he fidgeted in his spot. He scratched the back of his head with flustered giddiness, struggling to keep eye contact with you. You didn’t think you ever saw him this shy. He was always your brave hero Caleb, the same boy who held you when you had nightmares, the same boy who held your hand when the thunderstorms got too loud. He was the same boy who defended you from bullies and got into trouble for getting into a fight with them. He was the same man who held nothing but affection in his words for you, the same man who would fall into playful banter with you.

You sighed softly, the corners of your lips twitching up. “You’re not gonna say it back?”

Though he didn’t need to, there was still a hint of insecurity in your tone. You looked at him expectantly, still watching as he tried to maintain composure. You weren’t used to seeing him this way, but you thought you could learn to do it. It made for a rather nice sight.

“I love you too, pipsqueak,” he finally said.

You beamed at him, placing the bouquet on the counter before leaping into his arms, delightfully laughing when he caught you effortlessly. You looped your arms around his neck and hooked your chin on his shoulder. Your legs were wrapped around him, your body supported by his arms around your waist. He held you as if you were as light as a feather. He nuzzled into your hair, letting out a content sigh. The air felt so light, so carefree. The remnants of your worries disappeared into the air, replaced by pure joy and unbridled affection.

“So… What’s the plan? Are you done with the day?”

“I’m going back to work. They need me,” he replied. With a jovial tone, he continued. “But I’ll be back for dinner.”

“You mean it this time?” You pulled away, searching into his eyes for honesty. You were still prone to worrying. His vigilante lifestyle was full of unpredictable moments, so it consistently kept you on your toes, leaving you unaware of what to expect. You were desperate for his words to be true. You felt as though you’ve been away from him for way too long. You craved his presence, his warmth—you craved him.

He gave you a boyish smile. “Yeah. I do.”

And that was a promise.

[heyclickadee]

Same.

And—okay, @mrsnaildood, your tags

got me thinking, because I absolutely think there’s something going on here between these two lines, and it’s interesting.

(More under the cut—this got long because I can’t shut up):

My two cents—with the caveat that I’m very much hardline Tech lives, and hardline that we’re not quite done with the batch’s story, just with the part focusing on Omega’s POV—is that they’re sort of both right and both wrong, and that the answer is a third road situation we haven’t gotten to yet.

Because, well, the squad does keep functioning after Echo leaves. It takes them a bit to adjust, no one is happy about it, but they operate just fine once they get their heads around it. They even function okay without Crosshair. It’s never quite the same, they don’t like it, but they can squeak by because they can collectively step in and fill the job Crosshair had on the squad (not that they’re filling in for the person, just the role of sharpshooter) to enough of an extent that they can complete missions when they need.

So, yes, Tech is sort of right that the squad can keep going, unhappily but still, if they lose a member. Except then they lose Tech and everything immediately falls apart. And stays fallen apart for an extended period of time because he’s not there.

I mean. The train car crashes because it won’t Echo slow it down (could Tech have hacked in and forced a system response? Maybe). Omega almost dies and they have to go back to Ord Mantell to have AZ save her (Tech doubled as the team medic—maybe they wouldn’t have had to do this if he was there). Omega gets captured. Hunter and Wrecker can’t find Tantiss and look every bit like they’re letting themselves get hit by trucks for leads. They search for months. Omega has to get herself out. They have to go to an entire other planet to unlock a datapad and then do a job for someone who might know someone who knows something to find out what an m-count is. They have to take the most convoluted way to Tantiss and then spend the bulk of their time there getting their asses kicked.

(Edit: To clarify here because I just realized how this came across, I’m not saying that Tech is more important to the squad than the others, because he’s not. More that he serves a different function; he’s sort of the engine that keeps them going, and they lost him at a time when they were already stretched thin and when what they really needed was an engine.)

We don’t even really get a happy reunion of the known surviving members of clone force 99. Echo leaves again, Crosshair and Wrecker aren’t part of the, “Whatever we want, kid,” conversation and don’t appear in the epilogue, and when they come sit down under that tree

the two of them are still visually separated from each other and the group in the center. This isn’t a whole, united family (I know we’re talking about them as a squad right now, but more on this in a minute—they’re still as broken as they were back in Aftermath, just broken differently. (Also, sidebar, Crosshair is sitting against the darkest part of the frame. Man is just surrounded by shadow, which. Hmmm.)

Anyway, all this to say that Crosshair is also is also kind of right. They are broken without Tech. They’re not the same squad. If Tech is meant to be dead then the handling of that death is atrocious, because he’s never dealt with as a person (and we get no indication anyone has dealt with it off screen), but if he’s alive then the cumulative effect of really only bringing up the loss of his skillset without allowing anyone to step up and fill his roll—not even Omega, who wins against Hemlock with a combination of skills she learned from all her brothers and her own capacity for strategy and compassion, and very much does things her way—is to say that they need him.

And the really interesting thing is that no one really refutes these lines even though there’s definitely space for them to do so. Neither Wrecker nor Hunter tell Tech that he’s wrong, they tell him that he needs to go talk to Omega because he snapped at her, she needs help adjusting, and she doesn’t actually want to be alone. The pushback against Crorsshair’s line completely sidesteps the question about whether Tech is really gone or whether Clone Force 99 is dead without him, and instead focuses hones in on Crosshair trying to infiltrate Tantiss by himself—something that Wrecker and Hunter won’t let him do. And, of course, neither Tech nor Crosshair ever take their statements back. (Crosshair doesn’t take the statement that he deserves to die back, either, which again. Hmmmm.

But, to add another layer to this, neither Tech’s nor Crosshair’s lines are delivered as objective fact. There’s a lot of emotional charge and neither of them is exactly calm while saying them.

“This squad existed long before Echo was a part of it, and it will exist long after,” is one of the most heated line deliveries we ever get from Tech. He’s done with everything, upset about Echo, really doesn’t want to talk about, would like things to stop going wrong for two seconds, and frankly I think he couldn’t handle Omega going on at that particular moment on top of everything else. So he snaps at her in a way that shuts down the conversation.

“Clone force 99 died with Tech! We’re not that squad anymore!” is agonizing. It’s one of the most pained things Crosshair says, and part of one of his longest trains of dialogue, because it’s just the preamble to Crosshair declaring that he’s going to go into Tantiss alone because he, “deserves whatever happens to [him] in there.” The whole speech together is basically, “We’re broken because we don’t have Tech, and we don’t have Tech because of me, so I’m going to go get myself killed over it.” Whatever Crosshair actually believes about Tech’s fate, and whatever Tech’s fate actually is, Crosshair’s saying this in a moment of anger, his primary motivation here is to get Hunter and Wrecker to let him go in by himself, and he’s saying the most out of pocket, painful thing he can think of to do so. (He has a habit of doing this.)

So, all this to say is that part of what these lines do is inform us of Tech’s and Crosshair’s perspectives and motivations in these moments more than anything else. Tech is deeply upset about losing Echo (and, as it turns out, losing Crosshair), but they have to keep going, and he can’t solve the problem they’re in by shutting down over it. Crosshair doesn’t think there’s anything left to carry on, and he’s in despair because of it.

Which is where I think we get to the point where they’re both a little bit wrong.

Given Tech’s perspective I think there’s a chance that, whatever else he was thinking��I don’t think there’s a universe where Tech wouldn’t fight to stay alive all the way down, but he’d know that if he did make it to the bottom alive that he’d be separated from the rest of the batch for who knows how long—he thought the squad could carry on without him because he watched them function through losing Crosshair and Echo. That it’d be hard, that they’d hate every second of it, but that they could adapt and function and then they…don’t. No one ever really deals with losing Tech—not the same as being sad, and something that would have needed to happen on screen—and they’re immediately plunged into a situation where his exact skillset could have solved the problem in, like, two days.

(Sidebar: if it turns out I’m right and this story isn’t quite done, and we do get Tech back, one interesting thing they could do is push very gently back against the idea of clone self sacrifice, and make, “he wouldn’t let us save him,” something Tech has to learn, because he was sacrificing himself for his squad but what his squad actually needed was him.)

And then for Crosshair…the thing about Crosshair is that he’s a perceptive individual who picks up on people and situations in a remarkable way, except that perception is then filtered through a filter of cynicism and self-loathing that ends up taking genuine insight and bringing it to the worst conclusion. And that’s before we get to Crosshair’s habit of just saying things he doesn’t believe with the intent of pushing people away. “We’ve been a train wreck ever since we lost Tech,” isn’t wrong. “We’re permanently broken and nothing can be fixed,” is the Crosshair filter talking. Besides—if clone force 99 can never be fixed, then what did Tech sacrifice himself for? And he fell on a mission he personally pushed for to save Crosshair; how does Crosshair going and getting himself killed over it in any way honor that?

All this to say that I think these two moments are absolutely in dialogue with each other. “It’s difficult, but we have to carry on,” vs, “We’re broken and I’m going to let it kill me.” Or, well…, “Adapt and survive, or die with the past.”

There’s a push and pull between them, but it’s in a way that allows the tension between the two perspectives to never settle at any point of the show. As long as there is more story to tell, however, I think the real answer to which perspective the writing agrees with is going to come down to this exchange:

“But we’re more than that. We’re a family. Aren’t we?”

“Yes—yes. Of course we are.”

Imagine for a second that Tech comes back, we get the entire bad batch family together, and that we do come full circle to this. Basically, that, yes, Tech was wrong about this particular thing, clone force 99 hasn’t existed in a real way in a long time, and that it actually died long before Crosshair thought, too. Clone force 99 as a functioning military unit died with the Republic. They aren’t the soldiers that they were, and they’ve all been through too much to be able to be. But that doesn’t matter, because they’re more than that. They’re a family. They always will be. And they don’t have to stay broken.

And for what it’s worth, Crosshair and Tech are the only members of the squad outside of Omega who talk about it in familial terms. And we never do round out the family arc. So it might be something they’re planning on coming back to.

remember in S2 when Tech said "This squad existed before Echo was a part of it, and it will exist after."

and then in S3 Crosshair said "Clone Force 99 died with Tech. We're not that squad anymore."

i just think about this a lot.

[odileeclipse]

Hello!! Could you do a shadow milk cookie x reader except one sided with smc liking reader and reader is smart but just nonchalant about everything and can see through Shadow milk cookie but doesn’t say anything about it since reader doesn’t really care about him. Reader also can manipulate other people really well but except reader just uses it when it is absolutely necessary and not just for fun

you could say it’s like manipulator x manipulator type of relationship 😭🙏🏻🙏🏻

so whenever smc tries to manipulate reader, they just look at him with no interest whatsoever and then after, reader just brushes him off lmao

A Scholar's Indifference

A/N I took the liberty to make them a scholar because they're intelligent so what better way to show it than be a scholar.

The Grand Archives were quiet, save for the faint scratching of quill against parchment. The scent of aged paper and candle wax lingered in the air, untouched by the passage of time. It was a sanctuary of knowledge, a place where scholars sought wisdom, where history was preserved and studied. And where, unfortunately, Shadow Milk Cookie had made himself a nuisance. “I can offer you more than dusty old tomes, you know.” His voice coiled through the air like a whispered spell, smooth and deliberate, laced with that ever-present undertone of mischief. He lounged atop your desk as if he belonged there, one leg lazily crossed over the other, his fingers absentmindedly toying with the edge of an open book.

You didn’t look up. “That’s nice.” Shadow Milk Cookie narrowed his eyes slightly. A non-response. Not rejection, not curiosity just sheer, effortless apathy. How irritating. “You wound me, dear scholar,” he sighed, dramatic as always, his free hand pressing against his chest. “Is it truly so awful to imagine a world beyond these walls? A world where you are not simply a collector of knowledge, but a wielder of it?” You dipped your quill into the ink, barely acknowledging him. “Knowledge doesn’t need to be wielded. It simply is.”

“Drowning yourself in scrolls again, dear scholar?”

Shadow Milk Cookie’s voice curled around you like wisps of ink in water, smooth and dark, filled with a performer's flourish. He emerged from between the bookshelves, mismatched eyes gleaming with playful intent. You didn’t bother to look up. “Drowning implies struggle,” you replied smoothly, scratching your quill against the parchment. “I find knowledge rather easy to breathe in.” He laughed, slow and rich. “Oh, how clever. But tell me, what will all this knowledge do for you, hm? You sit here, day after day, collecting truths like dust on old tomes. And yet, do you ever stop to wonder how small this kingdom makes you?” You turned a page. “Enlighten me.” Shadow Milk Cookie leaned against the desk beside you, propping his chin on his palm as he watched you work. “You are brilliant,” he mused, “yet your talents are wasted here, confined to these halls, buried beneath limitations.” He waved a hand, gesturing vaguely at the bookshelves around you. “The Vanilla Kingdom tells you what you can and cannot study. They sift through history, preserving only what benefits them. But me? Oh, starlight, I hold the knowledge they do not want you to find.”

At this, you finally lifted your gaze, eyes laced with the same disinterest you always regarded him with. “Let me guess, if I simply cast aside my oaths and follow you, you’ll show me the hidden truths of the world?” Shadow Milk Cookie smirked. “You say it so mockingly, and yet, I can see the hunger in you.” You let out a soft hum, studying him. “Tell me, Shadow Milk Cookie. If knowledge was truly your grand gift to me, why present it with such flair? Truth does not need theatrics. it stands on its own.” He faltered, just for a fraction of a second, but you caught it. You always did. You leaned back in your chair, folding your hands neatly. “You see, I know the difference between a charlatan and a scholar. Charlatans weave grand words, dress their lies in gold, make impossible promises to those desperate enough to believe them.” Your gaze sharpened. “And you? You are nothing more than a talented illusionist. A puppet master in a carnival of shadows.”

Shadow Milk Cookie chuckled, though his grin was slightly tighter than before. “And yet, you keep listening.” You smirked. “Because you are a wonderful study in deception. I find you fascinating, in the same way one might study the tactics of a conman.” His eyes flickered, momentarily losing their playful gleam. “You wound me.” “No,” you said, tilting your head. “I intrigue you.” Silence stretched between you. For the first time, you had taken the stage. And Shadow Milk Cookie who had spent centuries puppeteering the minds of others found himself being played. The realization must have struck him as well, because after a moment, his lips curled into something more genuine than his usual theatrics a slow, appreciative grin. “Well, well,” he murmured, voice lower, smoother. “Perhaps I miscalculated. You’re not just another mind to mold, are you?” You lifted your quill, twirling it between your fingers. “Of course not. And that’s where you made your first mistake.” Shadow Milk Cookie laughed, a real laugh this time deep and delighted, his eyes gleaming not with victory, but with something far more dangerous. Interest. “You are wasted in this kingdom,” he purred, standing to his full height. “One day, you will see that. And when that day comes…” He let his words trail off, a silent promise woven between them. You merely returned to your parchment. “I wouldn’t hold my breath.”

He grinned, sharp and intrigued. “Spoken like a prisoner who doesn’t realize they’re in a cage.” You finally, finally lifted your gaze, leveling him with a stare so perfectly blank, so wholly unimpressed, that for a moment, he felt the slightest twinge of irritation. And then you smiled small, knowing, and just a little bit cruel. “If this is a cage,” you said, tilting your head, “why do you keep coming back?” Shadow Milk Cookie hesitated. Just for a second. Then, his grin widened. “Ah, but you mistake my presence for captivity, starlight. I am merely… entertained.” “Mm.” You turned back to your work, brushing away a stray ink blot. “So am I.” The amusement in his expression flickered, just for an instant, before he laughed. Genuinely. “You are playing with me.” It wasn’t a question. It was an accusation. You didn’t bother to confirm or deny it. Because you were. And he knew it. Shadow Milk Cookie had spent lifetimes weaving illusions, twisting perception, ensnaring minds in silken lies spun with the utmost precision. And yet, you? You saw through him. Not because you were searching for the truth. Not because you wished to challenge him. But because you simply did not care. And that was infuriating. “Oh, you are delightful,” he purred, resting his chin in his palm as he watched you work. “Truly, I cannot decide if I admire or despise you.”

“I don’t think about you enough to make that decision,” you replied idly. That one almost made him scowl. Almost. He hummed, watching as you dipped your quill back into the ink, utterly unbothered by his presence. “You’re wasted in this kingdom, you know,” he said, shifting tactics. His voice softened, dipping into something lower, something enticing. “They will never recognize your full potential here. But I will.” You let out a quiet hum, seemingly entertained by his attempt. “Is that what you tell everyone you want to recruit?” “Oh no, no, no,” he chuckled. “This is different.” He leaned closer, voice lowering to a whisper. “I see you, dear scholar. You and I? We are the same.” That made you pause. Just for a breath. Then, slowly, you turned to face him again. Your expression didn’t change. Your voice didn’t waver. But your words? Your words shattered him. “You mistake recognition for importance.” Silence. For the first time, Shadow Milk Cookie did not have a response. You let the moment stretch, tilting your head slightly. “I am no more like you than a scholar is like their book. You, Shadow Milk Cookie, are a performer.” You rested your chin against your hand, mirroring his own smug posture. “And I? I am simply watching the show.” His fingers twitched against the desk. It was annoying. It was intoxicating. It was exhilarating. “You are fascinating,” he murmured, his usual teasing lilt replaced with something real. Something dangerous. You shrugged. “I know.” And just like that, you turned away again, utterly, completely unbothered. Shadow Milk Cookie stared at you for a long moment. Then, he laughed. A breathy, delighted sound, as if he had stumbled upon the greatest puzzle he had ever encountered. “Oh, you are going to be my favorite,” he whispered, grinning to himself. You didn’t respond. Because as far as you were concerned, the conversation was already over.

[lucky-slice]

bc I know you have good kevriko thoughts I’m wondering if u have any thoughts about what would have happened if Kevin and Riko met after the final. It seems from TRK that Riko didn’t realize he was going to die until the very end but given how he knows exy is his only worth I’m wondering if he would be actually losing it beforehand. I keep thinking if he saw Kevin atp they would have a Riko version of a tender moment remembering how they used to be each others only support. I think Kevin would be even more devastated in the aftermath of Riko’s death

Now I’ve made myself sad and had to share this with other people

Okay, so uh sit down cause this is about to be annoyingly long.

I'm by no means a kevRiko expert but I do enjoy thinking about them. Personally I don't think an interaction between Kevin and Riko after the final would be in any way positive. Riko is so far gone by that point.

The thing about Riko is that we're slowly watching him spiral. He is systematically loosing everything that he thought he had while desperately trying to hold onto it and it cumulates in his death. It's distinctly clear in the final game that he has lost his hold on Kevin regardless of whether or not he wants to accept that. Up until this point, Riko has been hostile in his interactions with Kevin and Neil, but there's always been a sense of control because he was backed by the steadfast belief that Kevin is his.

Think about their interaction after the Kathy interview. Riko is speaking as if he is simply indulging Kevin's whims to go take on the Foxes as a pet project.

He says this: "I do not approve, Kevin," Riko said. "You should get rid of him as soon as possible." Implying that he has control over what Kevin does with the foxes - as if he is giving permission for Kevin to continue play pretending as a Fox.

And then when Riko hits Kevin. It's not out of anger necessarily, but more of an automatic reaction of discipline. It's an action of ownership.

He reached for Neil, but Kevin caught his arm to stop him. Riko slammed his elbow back into Kevin's face without missing a beat.

This is such a fast response. It's as if they've played this game a thousand times and Riko is simply putting Kevin in his place the same way one would a misbehaving dog. Riko has not accepted that Kevin has actually left him and this continues through every interaction up until the final.

There's a part during the banquet scene where Riko is discussing Kevin's claim that Kevin didn't know who Neil was. He says: "After seeing Kevin's reaction I am inclined to believe him. Perhaps I can understand, as I know how blind Kevin can be when it comes to Exy. I might even forgive him for sheltering you from me."

This is particularly interesting to me because it gives insight to where Riko's head is at in regards to Kevin leaving to join the foxes and his refusal to acknowledge Riko's ownership of him. Riko does not understand that breaking Kevin's hand was the ultimate betrayal, not really. I personally believe that Exy comes second for Riko. Exy is a means for control and it's what his family demands of him, so his drive to be number one comes from a place of birthright and of the need for validation for the Moriyama name. You could functionally replace Exy with anything for Riko and it wouldn't make a difference. The same is not true for Kevin, who cares about exy for the sake of his love for the sport. (There's other stuff here as well, but that's another discussion). Riko understands this to a certain extent, but he indulges it in the same vain that he indulged Kevin's interest for history by doing a history major. He is using Kevin's love for exy as an excuse to justify Kevin's perceived disloyalty. From Riko's perspective, Kevin left the nest not because Riko betrayed him or because he is no longer Riko's brother, but because Kevin is blind when it comes to exy. Kevin will come back to him once he's fulfilled his little fantasy of playing coach.

But then the final comes around and Kevin is no longer playing the role he's supposed to. He is making it explicitly clear that Riko no longer owns him, and Riko is forced to reckon with the fact that he has truly lost any sense of hold that he had on Kevin.

Compare these two interactions:

During the banquet: Kevin flinched and offered a weak response. Riko stabbed a finger at him in angry accusation and rattled away, getting louder and more incensed by the second. Neil watched Kevin wilt beneath the weight of his brother's—no, owner's—fury.

During the final: Kevin ignored him until Riko said something else, then slid a cool look Riko's way and answered. Neil didn't know what he said, but Riko twisted his gloved hands around his stick like he was imagining breaking Kevin's neck.

Riko has lost him and he knows it.

Then at the same time, you have the complete break down of the falsely constructed hierarchy around Riko and his place within. Riko's whole worldview and sense of self is crumbling.

Riko's place as a Moriyama, even as second family, is incredibly important to him. It's the only thing that gives him any sense of worth. He has been cast aside but at the very least he has control over the Ravens and of those beneath him in the hierarchy (i.e Jean, Neil and Kevin) because he is a Moriyama son.

We see bits of pieces of this insecurity - his reaction to not being invited to his own father's funeral and the way he speaks with the authority of his family even though he does not have access to to the power behind the Moriyama name.

So when Kevin makes his stand with the foxes, when he refuses to cower to Riko's authority over him, he is not just betraying Riko himself, but he is betraying this carefully constructed illusion of power. If Riko can not control Kevin, and Neil by extension, he has nothing.

Which is why the moment when Riko tries to kill Neil is such a pivotal moment for his character arc.

The thing that sets Riko off is not loosing the match, but instead it's Neil's comment to him.

"I'd ask you how it feels, but I guess you've always known what it's like to be second, you worthless piece of shit."

This isn't about the Raven's loosing or about Riko coming second to Kevin, this is a stark reminder that Riko has never had any real power. He has never been anything but a forgotten second son locked in a basement. Riko is angry at Neil, not because he insulted him, but because this is the final nail in the coffin of the delusion that Riko has been indulging in since he was a child. The line that separates Riko from Neil, Kevin, and even Jean is so painfully thin and Neil just snapped it in half.

When Riko attempts to kill Neil, he's not just attempting to murder someone - he is attempting to kill someone that does not belong to him. Neil belongs to the Moriyamas and Riko is only really a Moriyama in name. Neil is not his to break in this way. That's why this moment is unhinged. Like yeah the murder on national television isn't great, but its the fact that Riko is going directly against his family - his masters - that exemplify how far gone Riko is.

I don't think there would be any tender moments between Riko and Kevin because Kevin has betrayed him in an irredeemable way. Riko is too angry, too destroyed for anything approaching that. There's like 19 years of simmering resentment and denial resting in that final moment after the buzzer goes.

I like the idea of Riko and Kevin as children because there's still the possibility of Riko realizing that he and Kevin are the same. Neither of them had any control over their lives and they were both owned in the same way. But that didn't happen. Kevin's coping mechanism was obedience and Riko's coping mechanism was concocting the illusion of power. Their relationship is built off of this and Riko is certainly not going to thank Kevin for reminding him that they both started out in the same place.

And honestly, I think that Riko dying while still grasping at this threadbare illusion of his own worth is far more tragic for both him and Kevin. Because Kevin will never get any closure to their relationship. He will never know if Riko ever truly loved him as a brother or if he only cared about him to the extent that it allowed for Riko to fill the hole that was left by the abandonment of his own family.

And this is so fucking sad:

"Ichirou," Riko said, so choked with emotion Neil almost couldn't understand him. He could have been cursing Ichirou's name for waiting so long to come into his life. He could have been begging for justice or revenge. Riko opened his mouth to say something else but closed it again when Ichirou cradled Riko's cheek in his free hand.

You would not get the same emotional weight in Riko's death if Riko had some kinda realization with Kevin. Riko's relationship with Kevin is a pseudo replacement for his relationship with his own brother. Ichirou will never acknowledge him, and so he enacts that feeling of abandonment onto Kevin in the form of ownership. The only time Ichirou acknowledges him is to end his life. If Riko were able to actually view Kevin as a brother or to gain some retroactive self-reflection on their relationship, he wouldn't need to beg for Ichirou in the last moments of his life. And that just hits hard.

Sorry this got a bit out of hand to what you were actually asking, but tdlr: no I don't think there would be any moments of tender recollection between them, and I think Riko's death is more devastating because of that.

[elumish]

Maybe it's a Reddit vs Tumblr thing, and maybe it's just that I don't spend time on those parts of Tumblr anymore, but i feel like I haven't seen handwringing like that in five to ten years.

(And really? The most common response is "don't diversify your cast of characters"?)

So a few thoughts, if this helps:

"I realized I have no diversity and would like to change that." Fine thought. Have a sticker.

"I am white and deliberately only write white characters because POC are way too mysterious and I'm not going to pretend I can understand their experiences." Yep that's racist.

Women or POC or any set of marginalized people aren't a monolith. One of the points I was trying to make in my original post is that people tend to approach writing men as individuals but women as part of the monolith that is womanhood, and so while men are written as people (as individuals) women are written as part of that monolith. Their actions, feelings, decisions, choices, and personality are driven by their gender rather than by who they are as an individual, because they're not written as an individual, they're written as a gender with a hat on top.

"I can write about this" and "I have to do some research" are not at all mutually exclusive, whether you're talking about characters or identities or trains. In one of my books, a love interest is from Singapore, and I am writing about that character--but I've also done research into Singapore to do my best to get it right.

The amount of research you need to do (whether that research is reading first person accounts, looking up facts, talking to people, going somewhere, etc.) is going to differ a lot depending on what you're trying to write. My life as a woman in the US is much more similar to a man's life in the US than a woman's life in Herat, Afghanistan--so I do a lot less research to write about a man in the US than I would to write about a woman in Herat.

One of the things that I think got super muddled up around the #OwnVoices stuff and all of that is that there is a difference between writing a character and claiming that you are representing the Experience Of That Group. If you are not in a group, it's very unlikely that you are the best person to write a book that is solely about what it is like to be a member of that group (like how Jeanine Cummins got panned for American Dirt being touted as the great immigrant story). That doesn't mean that you can't write a character in that group, even as your protagonist/POV character.

If you're thinking about writing women as writing aliens, that is a problem. Point blank, no questions asked. Because it means you don't see women as people. Your first step to being a good writer is understanding that people who aren't male or white or from your country or ablebodied or cis or straight are people.

Everything else, every other piece of writing advice, every other technique, that all comes later.

Hope that helps!

A thing to consider: when you're writing male characters, do you think of it as writing people, or as writing men?

When you're writing female characters, do you think of it as writing people, or as writing women?

In a lot of stories, men are written as people, but women are written as women. Men are written neutrally, with little to no explicit attention paid to their gender, while women are written with a lot of explicit attention paid to their gender. Women's gender becomes part of the story, while the fact that men are men is rarely lingered upon.

So if you're ever struggling to write female characters, or you're wondering why it feels harder, or if they seem less interesting or more annoying than your male characters, consider this: is it because you're focused on writing them as women, while you're used to just writing men as people?

[quibbs126]

You know, I really think there’s merit to be had in a TFA-style dynamic with Optimus and Megatron, with the two as strangers and Megatron being so much older and basically from a completely different Cybertron. Particularly with a corrupt Autobot government

And also if you actually explore their dynamic more, since TFA didn’t really do that

Like they start off as pure enemies, each thinking very lowly of the other, but their continuous conflicts giving them an odd sense of respect for one another, or at least Megatron for Optimus

And then there’s also the juiciness of their completely separate backstories, or more specifically Optimus learning Megatron’s. I think it’d be cool if Megatron had an absolutely horrible backstory, one so terrible it made him want to burn it all down because he saw no other way forward. In part because my faves must suffer, but also with this backstory being at the hands of Autobots or people who would become Autobots. Like maybe some of the leaders, while not directly responsible, did turn their heads in some way and deny responsibility. Like Megatron is a monster, but he is the monster created by the Autobots

And maybe over time, while he never agrees with him, Optimus starts to understand Megatron more, that he’s more than just a creature of pure evil. And maybe in a scenario where Megatron is captured like in Season 3, Optimus finds himself seeking out his advice and words, because while he’s no paragon, he’s the only person who will tell him the truth, because the Autobot command certainly won’t, and he wants to understand it all better; Megatron, the Decepticons, the Autobots, the war, all of it. Both in prison and out of it, Megatron ends up strangely becoming a sort of mentor to Optimus

I don’t think this Megatron would be one that gets a redemption arc. He’s too far gone, even if he has a tragic backstory and he’s more complex than just a cartoon villain (and also I need to remind myself that just because I feel bad for Megs doesn’t mean he should get off scott free, particularly since he was the villain originally). I also think Optimus should be the one to kill him, with Megatron maybe even being happy with this outcome, that Optimus is someone worthy of doing him the honor of death

I may have gone a bit specific, but I think this older, more experienced Megatron should be a way for Optimus to grow as a person; to learn that the world isn’t as black and white as he thought, and to learn to question the establishment he lives by, so that he can see its corruption and work to truly make it better. Because even if this Optimus isn’t the leader of the Autobots in the story, that is what he tends to ultimately become. I think it could be so good, if in the hands of writers willing, and more importantly able, to explore this as a concept more (though mandates can be a bastard, as seen in other shows)

Oh and also, nothing romantic between these two. With this scenario my brain cooked up, I just don’t see a place for it. Give Optimus his own separate love interest if you have to, just not Megatron, let them be platonic in this instance. Could you say this is because I’m not a fan of TFA megop? Sure, but I say this because I realized this is how I feel about TFA Megatron and Optimus; there’s potential I see in their dynamic, I just don’t like when it’s only for romantic reasons. There’s so much more here, that I think can stand to be more interesting than leading to them kissing. Probably true of other iterations but this is where I stand with TFA at least

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Not Our Responsibility

Previous | Masterpost

Danny and Sam spent hours that night researching different typed of ghosts and demons. There was distressingly little information about Arabic ghosts easily accessible online and Danny regretted, not for the first time, that cultural education was not on the LoA’s curriculum. When they were called down for dinner Danny and Sam continued to talk and debate about the ghosts, mostly just because it was fun watching her parents try not to look disgruntled and upset by the morbid topic. Something they always gave Sam a hard time about being interested in but couldn’t tonight because Danny was clearly interested in it too.

They tried to redirect the conversation towards academics or their ‘relationship’ a few times, Danny would give polite, short answers before returning to his conversation with Sam. No one was surprised when after dinner the Manson parents suggested that Danny stay the night since they were clearly having such a good time.

Danny put up token resistance and gave in quickly when they insisted as he knew they would. He and Sam went back up to her room to play some online games with Tucker and tell him about everything that they had learned. Privately he was debating between the names Hatif, a voice without a source, and Afreet, which was a type of demon. He liked the sound of both but one was obviously scarier then the other.

He could use both, he didn’t have a name like Oracle yet an a voice without a source was a pretty good meaning for the guy in the chair. But would it be suspicious? Maybe.

“Shit,” he cursed as he died again.

“What the hell Danny!” Tucker half shouted as he tried to revive Danny for the fourth time that match.

“I’m sorry guys, my minds just not in it tonight I guess. I’ll try to focus.”

That night after they finished their game and he was curled up in a nest of pillows and blankets he’d made for himself on Sam’s floor he decided he’d rather just go by Hafit. He wasn’t going to be a demon after all, and there was a fine line between having fun with how people would persevere him and sabotaging any chances he had of remaining in contact with his family when all this was said and done.

The next day he told Sam’s parents that he was heading home, denied their offer of a ride and took a cab as close to the warehouses as they were willing to go. He let himself in to his makeshift lab without the need for a key, simply reaching through the door to unlock it from inside, and headed to his workbench. He dumping out a bag of scrap materials he had stolen from the gave he pulled up a stool he was sure was new and started to tinker.

It was less then an hour later when the door creaked open again and he glanced up to see Red hood entering. He gave his unwilling brother a smile, Red Hood nodded as he closed the door behind him and stood there with his arms crossed, posture as closed and defensive as Danny’s was open and inviting.

“Hey, welcome! Thanks for the chair,” He said, gesturing to it knowing Jason could only be the one who’d brought it. “I don’t have any cameras or anything in here yet if you want to get comfortable,” he suggested, gesturing to his own face to indicate Hood’s helmet.

“No thanks,” Jason said in a clipped tone, but he did come further into the building, pulling out a second chair and sitting down across from Danny.

“I’ve decided on a code name by the way,” He said conversationally when it became clear Jason wasn’t just going to get to the point of why he was here. “Hafit, I’ll put a modulator in my helmet to make my voice sound more ghostly, I have an aesthetic I want to go for,” he joked and Jason scoffed.

“Alright,” He agreed, and hey, at least he wasn’t making fun of Danny for it. He lapsed back into silence and this time Danny let him, there was a tension in Jason’s body that said he had something to say but was struggling with it. Rather then distract him further Danny gave him the time he needed to sort of his thoughts, going back to tinkering with his scrap to take the pressure off Jason. “Do you really think you can fix the effects of the Pit?” He asked after a long time. “Without undoing the, you know, being alive part.”

Danny hummed and put down his tools, clasping his hands on the table as he leaned forward a little bit. “Yes. Probably more easily for you then for me since you only had one exposure and haven’t been exposed repeatedly like me. Like I said last time, I won’t make any guarantees but I do think I can.”

“You know a lot about this?” Jason asked, cocking his head a little.

“More then most people, I am one of the Demon Head’s heir after all,” Danny said with a sneer as he picked up his tools again, wanting to keep his hands busy while he talked about this. He glanced up when he heard an intake of breath. “You didn’t know that? Talia was fond of you, I assumed she’d tell you about her sons… No? Well, I am, and Damian too. Talia Al Ghul is our mother, Bruce is our father.

“But back to the Lazarus water. I’ve been dependent on it since I was 8 so mother has been sending me bottles of it to keep me going while I was here. Unbenounced to her and with father’s supervision Tim and I have been conducting experiments on it for a couple years now, so I know a decent amount, I’ve simply reached the limits of what I can do under their supervision like I said last time. Not because they’re going to hurt anyone, but because I’ve realized that it’s far too magical to be made sense of by purely scientific means.

“There’s all sorts of emotion wrapped up in it, and that might be what gives it it’s power but maybe if I can strip all the anger and blood lust out of it, imbue it with some other emotion instead,” He trialed off as he got lost in his own thoughts. Shocked out of it by Jason’s laugh, making his hands still in their work.

“I’d say that sounds ridiculous but…” Jason trailed off, he knew, he had had unexplained things happen to him as well.

“That’s certainly what father and Tim think, they want everything to have scientific explanations. You know father is a control freak, anything that’s not controllable or understandable in a traditional sense is unacceptable thing, experimenting with magic is too unpredictable for him. It’s the obvious next step to me though, and my instinct for this stuff is good, has been since I was dunked in the pit the first time. I have a… connection to it I think. Not like grandfathers,” he wrinkled his nose at the thought. “But I haven’t been wrong about this yet.”

“You’re very confident,” Jason said a little condescendingly and Danny shrugged.

“I’ll take all appropriate precautions and if I’m wrong I’ll try something else, but I know where I want to start. Once I have the appropriate tools and security of course. This is a very good start, thank you again, but I suspect it’ll take a few months to get everything I need.”

Jason hummed and they lapsed into silence again, only for a few minutes this time. “You talk different then you do on TV,” Jason pointed out cocking his head a little. Danny wasn’t surprised to find that Jason had been doing research into what the family had been up to since he was gone and maybe Danny in particular since they were working together now.

“I know. I sound more like Damian don’t I?” He asked with a little smile and Jason nodded. “That shouldn’t be surprising really. We are twins, raised in the same environment, I just pretend to be a normal kid for the cameras but you already know I’m not a normal kid. I need you to take me seriously as a potential ally and scientist so dumbing down my speech won’t do me any favours.”

“I guess that’s true,” Jason said with a shrug and Danny laughed.

“While you’re here I’d like to iron out some details. I said I would help you if you needed, so we need a secure line to contact each other, a com or something. Once I have more security up I’ll give you codes to enter but not to disable cameras so I can keep an eye on what you’re doing in here but I’ll make sure no one else can get in. I’m one of the bats ‘guys in the chair’ after all, I’m good at that and keep them off my own trail.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Jason snorted. “If you’re working with Lazarus water I’ll be avoiding this place like the plague.”

“Fair enough, but I still will as a show of good will,” Danny said firmly and Jason didn’t argue.

“Your right about contact though, once you’ve build something your sure is secure I’ll give you access to the channel I use. For now… are you going to be here for a while?”

“Probably a couple more hours.”

“Good, I’ll go get you a burner phone. You can use that for now,” Jason said and started to get up.

“That sounds good, before you go though do you have any requests about what I should build for you?” Danny asked cocking his head to the side a little and giving Jason a slightly cocky smile.

“No requests yet,” Jason snorted shaking his head at Danny. “Show me what you can do and then maybe I’ll trust you with something that I need.”

“That’s fair, I’ll see what I can come up with. I have some ideas,” he assured with a smile that was just a hair to wide and was satisfied when he saw Jason’s posture stiffen slightly.

“Good,” Hood huffed before he stalked out of the warehouse like an offended cat. Danny bit back a chuckle. He knew he was unsettling when he wanted to be and he did like to play that up sometimes, just for fun.

Once he was alone he turned his attention back to his work, mentally doing a catalogue of what he had and what he could make with it. He didn’t want what he made to require constant reloading right now so it couldn’t be a weapon, especially since he didn’t have what he needed to manufacture the amount of ammo that would be actually necessary and anything that used traditional bullets wouldn’t be unique enough to really show what he could do.

He didn’t have a lot to work with really, but what he did have was a direct line to the channel the bat-family used to communicate, which had been changed and updated a few times since Jason had died. Danny grinned and pushed most of the junk to the side, pulling the things he would need for this project closer to him and beginning to work. It wasn’t a particularly difficult build really, the hardest part being making sure that it would be easily detectable or traceable by Oracle. With the work he did he could help cover it up but he didn’t want to be to obvious and found out before he was ready to reveal what he was doing here. He wasn’t going to come clean by choice until he had results.

He got a text message from his father at one point and responded that he was still at Sam’s and would be back for dinner, double checking that his phone was set up to reroute from her house just in case the checked his location. Satisfied that he was in the clear he put the finishing touches on his project and started working on something else while he waited for Red Hood to return.

It was about three hours before Jason returned, not long after Danny started cleaning up and putting away his unused tools and scrap for next time. He was sure that eventually his lab would end up being a complete cluttered mess, with ongoing projects and experiments. But for now he could fully clean up his space, so he did. He would be ready to leave as soon as he had showed Hood what it was that he had made.

A loud bang on the outside of the door made Danny jump and alerted him to the fact that Red Hood had returned before he pushed the door open. He tossed a phone at Danny without saying anything and it was only his life-long training that allowed him to catch it with so little notice.

“Perfect timing,” Danny said as he started to mess with the phone, there was only one number in it which was Red Hood’s. He pocketed it and picked up the com he’d made. “Can I see your helmet for a minute? I made you a com that can patch in to all of the channels the Bats are currently using and shouldn’t be able to be traced,” He said, showing it to Hood. He’d made it as stripped down as he could so there would be almost no place to hide a tracker. “You can put your other channels you use in here the normal way,” He said with a dismissive gesture.

“Damn you would throw the family under the bus like that?” Jason chuckled as he took off his helmet and handed it over, of course he was wearing a domino under it.

Danny gave Jason a unimpressed look as he started to pull out the old com and install the new one. “The family can look after themselves and I’ll be looking out for them too. If you seriously injure one of my siblings we might have a problem, but I don’t think you’d actually do that. Your problem is with Bruce, and frankly, that’s none of my business.”

“He’s your father,” Jason said a little dumbly.

Danny shrugged without looking up. “He’s yours too, no matter how much you deny it he raised you more then anyone else did, and you’re trying to kill him. I’m just not saving him. It shouldn’t be our job to save him anyway, but you know it is. The way Tim had to blackmail Father into taking him on as Robin after you so he wouldn’t fall apart after your death...” Danny trailed off with a disapproving hum, he hadn’t been their during that time of course but Tim had told him about it. He’d witnessed a fair few fights as well and knew they weren’t new.

“Damian tells me I don’t know the meaning of loyalty, perhaps he’s right, or perhaps no adult has earned it yet.” He was loyal to his siblings though, he wouldn’t have done this if he thought Jason would hurt them.

There was a long moment of tense silence before Jason spoke. “What do you mean falling apart?” He asked, sounding… nervous? Danny didn’t look up to check, worried it might send Jason back into his shell.

“He was furious, unreasonably aggressive even to petty criminals. The big blue boy scout had to hold him back from killing the Joker. Now, I’m not against killing him, but if Bruce needs a child to keep him true to morals he claims to hold so strongly then I don’t think he has a leg to stand on and yet he still has screaming fights with anyone who argues with him, including his children.” Danny hated those fights.

“He and Dick still at it huh?” Jason asked sounding amused.

“Not just Dick anymore, but ya,” Danny agreed with a sigh.

“Does he fight with you?” Jason asked, sounding a little uncertain.

“Me? No, if none of you managed to change his mind I Definitely won’t be able to. It’s easier to make him think I agree with him and then go do the things I want behind his back. He does love us, and I do love him too. I just…” He trailed off and sighed. “He leans on us more then he should, when he needs proper help. It’s tiring, and dangerous at times. I want better for all of us, including him, including you. But I’m just a teenager, a genius one, but basically still a kid. I can’t fucking fix decades of generational trauma, I can do my best to make sure me and Damian make it out.”

He finished working on the helmet and tossed it to Jason, sighing and stretching. Talking about emotions was more tiring than combat sometimes. “Helmet’s good to go. I told the family that I was staying overnight with one of my friends but I’d be home for dinner so I have to go. Let me know if you have any issues with the com, I’ll be back when I can and I’m sure you’ll find me if you want to talk.” He got up from the desk pulling on his own helmet. He’d get out of the alley with his grapple and find a place to hide and change back into civvies before calling a cab.

He waited for Hood to put his helmet back on as well and test the com a little before herding a baffled Red Hood out of his lab so he could lock up and head out. “I’ll be bringing some things over the next week too, just some equipment I need. Smuggling it in will be tricky, but I think I can make it work.” And if he really needed he was sure Sam and Tucker would help him without demanding to many answers if he really needed it, but he wasn’t going to say that. If they were involved at all the fewer people that knew that the safer they would be.

---------

When he got home Alfred and Damian were waiting for him. Well Damian pretended he had just been hanging around the lobby but it was obvious he had really been doing. Especially when he and Alfred immediately shooed him through into the family dining room. They had a little catching up to do after he'd been away overnight. Danyal forced himself not to jump to the conclusion they knew he had been lying, that would only make lying harder.

“So Danny, did you have fun with your friend?” Bruce asked.

“Oh ya I had a great time! We watched movies, played Doomed, and did a bunch of research!” Danny agreed as he served himself some of the salad on the table before pushing it over to Damian.

“And her parents behaved themselves?” Tim asked dryly, ignoring a warning look from Bruce.

“To my face,” Danny said with a grimace and an equally dry tone. “Sam told them we were dating to shut them up but I don’t want you to worry about it. I’m still very much not interested in a relationship, just giving her some peace from her parents. I'm only mentioning it in case they bring it up at the next Gala they're invited to.”

“Are you sure? If you do want to date you know that’s alright don’t you Chum?” Bruce asked a little awkwardly.

“It doesn’t have to be girls either,” Tim added, of course he’d been dating Bernard for a while now.

“No, I know. Really though guys, Sam is one of my best friends but that’s all we are. If that ever changes or I get interested in dating I will tell you guys,” He promised. And that actually wasn’t a lie, he might not trust his family with everything but he knew he could trust them with that. Bruce might be the normal amount of protective of one of his children in a romantic relationship but he wasn’t bad about his kids romantic lives really.

“You said you were working on some research? What were you researching?” Bruce asked, pushing his food around his plate. Maybe he’d already eaten? Or maybe he was just to tired, he certainly had impressive bags under his eyes. It was nice he was still staying up to have a meal with them and show an interest even though he must have had a long day.

“Uh..” Danny glanced at Alfred where he was lingering in the doorway. “Permission to talk about work just a little at the table?” He asked holding his fingers up just a bit apart from each other. Alfred considered it and then nodded. “I’ve been thinking about changing my code name! I mean Mystic was just a spin off of Oracle and it’s worked well but I want a name of my own you know? So Sam and I were looking up types of ghosts.

“I told her it was for a story I was trying to write but I think since I’m a disembodied voice most of the time so I think something ghostly would be cool! And maybe I’m reclaiming my death a little bit you know?” He asked and didn’t comment on the way Bruce and Damian both flinched.

“Ah,” Bruce sounded, a little strained.

“Any ideas?” Cass jumped in to ask, giving Danny a reassuringly warm smile he couldn’t help return.

“A few, but I don’t want to share them yet okay? Once I’ve thought about it more and have a few finalists I’ll ask you guys for your opinions.”

“That sounds like a good plan,” Bruce agreed with a slow exhale.

“Agreed for that is enough talk about work at the table,” Alfred said firmly. As always, no one argued with him and they all settled in for one of their regular family dinners.

[afinestoutlove]

things i love about heartstopper 66/?

Tao is a really great example of heterosexuality that just doesn’t give a fuck about conforming to heteronormativity. He hugs his friends so much, he’s not concerned at all about being perceived as gay, he’s an ally (but he never demands rewards for it - he doesn’t even seem to think about it much, it’s just what friends do). He's openly loving and emotional.

That's not to say Tao isn't struggling with masculinity. How could he not? Everything about him is a challenge to normative masculinity (which is always white, straight, etc). He's clearly on the outer at Truham, and while he hasn't been bullied the way Charlie has, he's part of that less-socially-accepted circle. And he responds aggressively to it, he gets dragged into Harry's bullshit so easily, and responds to Harry's bullying in kind. Let's be honest, sometimes it's satisfying to see Tao get the better of Harry, but it's not the most constructive way to solve the problem - as Tao says himself, even with all his good intentions, it just ends up making things worse.

Of course he fucks up sometimes - who doesn’t? He’s insecure, and that makes him behave in ways that hurt the people closest to him. And there are some interesting parallels between Tao's insecurtiy and the way a lot of other straight guys are insecure. He's afraid of losing people, of not being good enough, of not being enough, and he lashes out because of it. He leads with anger instead of vulnerability. But where some guys require other people (often women) in their life to do the work of making it better, he recognises where the responsibility lies and works on it himself. He sets an example of how guys can find their way out of those harmful habits.

Tao also leans a bit into the resentful nerd stereotype in ways that can be reductive, even as they're understandable. He dismisses all the rugby guys as "moronic", and implies that he and Isaac and Charlie are "better" because they're intelligent and academic and artistic. I mean... they are "better" than Harry, but because of their behaviour (most of the time...), not because of their brains. Tao struggles to respect people who are into different ways of living from him - especially Nick and his sport - because he used this sense of intellectual superiority as a defense against the shittiness of other guys. Just like his other insecurities, it's really understandable. And just like his other insecurities, even though he starts in a less than ideal place, he recognises the need to do better and then he does.

Tao Xu is a wonderful example of how teenagers can learn and grow, even as they make some pretty big mistakes. He doesn't see himself as lovable, but he really is, and he deserves his second chances. He always leans towards love. Yeah, he’s a bit pretentious and a bit of a snob and definitely interferes too much, but he's also a sweetheart, and given enough time, he'll give anyone a chance. He prioritises love - for friends, family, Elle - over everything else, and what more could you ask for in a friend?

[xemylixa]

I myself must confess that, with fictional characters, I kinda alternate between judging them as characters (in which case they're tools to tell a story, so anything goes so long as it arranges itself in an interesting pattern), and as people (in which case holy shit get away from me the lot of you!), with very little in-between, lol.

So, from this latter idealistic perspective, I must note the fact that Kmicic paid an eye for an eye and judge him for it, even though I understand his motivation just fine. It's how my brain works currently. I absolutely understand what you meant, though. I just can't commit to such a sentiment myself, if you know what I mean.

Kmicic's saving grace is, indeed, that sincerity you noted (I've no idea how he even lies with such cunning - that Charisma score allows for some insane Deception checks! sorry for the D&D lingo, it's true tho). And, particularly, a vital interpersonal skill that it allows him to have and that I learned the term for recently - accepting influence. Once Oleńka's cutting words land and make him think about where he is in life, and this brick wall of "I'm awesome and doing the right thing! :D" allows a trickle of bitter truth through it - there is no turning back. (Especially when it's Michał - this time it's a peer saying that; and Oleńka is still a woman. Kmicic is a horrible snob and that never really changes. The Tatars, like you said... yuck. Oh, and he kidnaps her - I think we're all really quick to forget that one! He completely escapes responsibility for a lot of things. I'm salty about that. Anyway...)

The same acceptance of influence, I think, becomes a core belief of "I need help, and I need guidance", as opposed to "I'm always right and if I'm not the worse for the facts". He knows he hasn't got it all figured out - and so he staggers like three different times between different lords. (Eventually landing on The Right One after literally the same thought process that got him into Radziwiłł's trap... because of course the problem was "whom to serve under" and not "what do I personally believe in", riiiight author? :D I despise feudal morality with all my being, by the way; does it show?)

And that would be why he acknowledges Kuklinowski as a possible reflection of himself - because he no longer thinks he's above all this. Also, Kuklinowski was "his biggest fan uwu", and by now his very existence only reminds him of the darkness within himself that he's only just sort of conquered (with strict guidance, again).

I'm not sure Kmicic is actively afraid of this still being his future. I think it's mostly a symbolic way to get back at his own past, now that he knows how horrible it was.

...I used to be better at writing concise essays, I swear. This just ran away from me. You put it a lot better than I could.

czemu ta scena jest taka silly

be who you are

[a-smol-storm-gt-nomfs-blog]

What lies beneath

An au Roman started, I got interested, so here's something I wrote, might not be au cannon to what they imagine though so don't take my story as true. as per usual nomfs, thoughts of death, hard vore mentions? (Dunno he just thinks he's gonna die) Thalasaphobia

Grian sat at the edge of the tank, his hands shaky, He was between feeding the leviathan and not. On one hand, if he fed him Grian might not be eaten, and maybe it would show goodwill, but on the other hand. It might put the leviathan into a food response. It’s more of a reptilian thing: with gators and snakes expressing it the most. Grian knew nothing about the leviathan, besides he was often fed things Grian’s size and larger, no wonder he ate people. He decided to throw the container of chum in, he hoped the poor leviathan wasn’t being starved, it would explain the people eating too. The vet looked down, watching the shiny fish slowly fall farther into the water. He almost lost sight of the fish parts before he saw a shadow move, swallowing the fish down. It was large, orca-sized at minimum, but Gem, if to believed, said he was larger. Maybe whale-sized, but this didn't feel like a healthy whale-sized tank. That could also explain its aggression. “Do you have more for him?” “What? Why would I do that?’ “Do you want me to be eaten?” “Why would he do that, he's been fed.” “This thing isn’t Mumbo-sized; it's larger. Do you think that's going to fill its stomach? Besides you fed it human hybrids, and it's well, eaten people? Doc sighed. “Yeah fine, give me a bit.” Grian nodded and looked down, the fish disappearing into the dark void below. Lights had been there in the beginning. It's possible it bit the cords due to hunger, or maybe it just didn’t like the light, either one made sense. “Hey- hey, buddy?” Grian said softly into the water with, unsurprisingly, no response. “I- uh, I’m Grian, I’m here to check up on you, and- uh, I know you’ve eaten people before so- I hope you won’t with me? I- I’m sorry if you’ve been treated poorly.” No response. “I’m getting you more food, if you didn’t hear, I hope it's enough, I uh- i-if you want to come up and talk it might make it easier.” Grian thinks he saw the shadow down there, maybe waiting for more food. Grian could or thought he saw him, he could see the shadows giving enough of a color difference, but his outline wasn’t visible. The leviathan was supposably eel-like, Grian couldn’t see any of that. All he could tell was that it was a different shade from the background. “I—Can you not eat me, please? I just want to make sure you feel good, feel happy, and make your body feel happy.” He tried, but maybe the leviathan didn’t know English well. There was some movement. “Uhh, but yeah food in a bit, then I’ll go in okay?’ A bit more movement. “Does anything hurt?” There was no movement at that. “Any wounds? Injuries?” No movement. “Uhhh, guessing that's a no.” He paused for a bit. “Are you hungry?” Movement. “Are you going to eat me?” Grian couldn’t make out if the leviathan was moving in response or not, he hoped it wasn’t The next tub of fish showed up and so Grian got down, taking the tub in his arms he then started back up. It was full of whole fish, which was likely better than sending something bloody down. So Grian dumped the fish in—only two tuna, a cod, and a salmon. This was not what Grian was expecting; he was hoping for more, but the mers weren’t necessarily taken good care of in the first place.

  The fish disappeared, swallowed by the shadow, literally. Grian watched, getting his suit on to prepare for his journey down. “I’ll get Skizz, he has the arm strength and the ability to help you, don’t go in till he’s here.” “I won't!” Grian shouted back. Grian checked his air canisters, they were back up, if the air tube he had attached to him got bitten, or it was too short he’d be able to switch to his mask.

He could hear the keys shifting as skizz ran over. “Hey G!” he waved up, he looked behind seeing Doc wasn’t there he asked. “You sure? I- uh- I can go down instead, just tell me what to do?”

Grian shook his head no. “I’d hate for you to be injured or worse because of me skizz, I don’t know if I’d be able to handle myself for that.”

“And I’d feel just as bad if you disappeared, not to mention poor Mumbo.”

Grian’s heart sank at the orca mer’s name.

“Oh Mumbo,” Grian said, voice shaking.

He took his goggles off for a bit.

“If… God. If anything happens to me, make sure Mumbo stays sane please?”

“Nothing gonna happen!” Skizz said trying to stay positive.

Grian stayed quiet, he wouldn’t consider himself a pessimist, but this was the most dangerous thing he had done in his life.

The vet fixed his mask back on, his body, his breaths shakier than his body.

Grian stood at the edge, his fingers barely touching the platform under him. He couldn’t get himself to move.

The adrenalin sent his heart and head off, running miles an hour while his body couldn’t move an inch. “G”? Skizz had made his way up the latter. The vet turned to meet his gaze, his terrified eyes shown through the goggles. Skizz’s heart dropping was visible on the security officer's face. “You don’t have to do this, no one would call you a coward for backing out.” “Yeah, but what- what if he's hurt? Malnourished? Starving? We can’t see that from up here, or down there.” Skizz sighed. “I get you’re a vet and all, but- it wouldn’t count as you or gems incompetence if that was the case it would be on Doc, he had a dangerous thing that had been known to kill humans, and sent a vet down that- I- ugh, It’s not sitting right with me.” Grian leaned on Skizz’s arm, it felt comforting being with the officer, his arms were large, but not enough to save him from this. Nothing was big enough to save him from this. If Grian let the leviathan die he’d blame himself for not going in, but if he died, he’d die thinking about his friends he’d be leaving behind. Jimmy, the small scared wyrm, and his giant wyrm ‘boyfriend’ Tango. The two separated were so nervous, but together they had this sense of calm, compassion, and a friendship that would be more. What if Grian wasn’t around to see it grow? Gem and Impulse were teasing. Those two were always trying to scare people with horror stories. Skizz tried to get in on it, but he was bad at it; his expressions gave him away. Speaking of Skizz, He was part mer, small amounts, it showed in his eyes, his teeth, and some small fins behind his ears and on his elbows, but beyond that, he was a normal guy, a caring one. And finally Mumbo, oh Mumbo. When Grian first met him he was on the brink of death, wounds, stress, and likely more had the mer in a terrible position. Grian helped him, spending hours with him, talking to him, he broke down the mers walls, watching him heal. Mumbo was one of the best things Grian had. Not that the others weren’t but the two were like siblings, a pod. Grian put a hand on his face, or well his goggles as his eyes shed his fears.

  Skizz wrapped an arm around the vet, pulling him into a gentle hug and letting him cry it out.  The guard stayed silent, Grian preferred it that way.

After a bit, Skizz rubbed his back and hummed something.

Grian listed, half there, half out of it, his mind preparing him for his possible death.

He took his goggles off to wipe his face once the waterworks stopped. He took some deep breaths in, calming himself some.

He pulled his head back, and Skizz’s arm released.

Grian looked up meeting Skizz’s worried gaze, he then looked down as he put his mask on, telling wordlessly his decision.

The vet caught the guard’s sad expression out of the corner of his eye.

Skizz came in for one last hug from behind. “You’ll make it,” Skizz said trying to stay positive. “You’re a smart guy.”

Grian let out a huff of appreciation. “Thanks skizz.” He said slipping the breathing tub over his mouth.

The guard backed off as Grian slid into the tank.

Skizz did a check with the current equipment, running some things over with Grian.

The vet gave a thumbs up, everything was okay on his end.

Skizz gave one back, but there was a nervous expression on his face.

Grian went under trying to avoid second-guessing himself now.

He let the weights do most of the work, helping him sink.

The vet, despite the situation, was slow in descending, after 5 minutes he could barely make out skizz, he was just a movement of different colors.

Grian decided it was a good time to turn on his headlamp.

The beam showed through the water, it was bright, but even then all he could make out was water, no walls, no ground, just dark deep water. He swallowed nervously but then let himself sink some, taking in usual breaths, he had to refrain from panicking, but he couldn’t breathe too deep, which would take more oxygen. After a bit Grian paused to to make sure the pressure wouldn't get to him, looking up he could barely make out the surface, he was passed the spot where the fish were grabbed, he supposed that was a positive. The vet glanced around, but couldn’t make out anything besides a possible rock ledge, nothing on it. Grian sank a bit more, he aimed the light down below him and could make out the sparkling of some shells and probably sand. He landed softly, lifting some sand, and he looked around. His light landed on some metal-wrapped cords, he could see scratches, and claws rather than teeth. None looked enough to kill the power till he saw an end of it, the other half wasn’t anywhere to be seen. The vet crouched down, it was likely teeth, and looking up he could make out lights. He wondered how bright they were. If Gem was right about their biology, and to be fair Grian trusted her far more than any other source, they liked it dark. He wondered if the leviathan had injured himself during that process. It wouldn’t be surprising. He hoped it wasn’t shocking, though if it was it didn’t kill it, but that could leave a nasty wound. Why would you even put lights in a tank? That could cause so many electrical problems. Not that the place was run well anyway, it was cheap, barely avoiding any laws. Grian was just counting the days where he could buy the business from Doc. The vet checked along the walls for anything possibly dangerous, the leviathan likely needed some UV, that, or some oranges, but he was not sure how much a giant eel would appreciate orange juice. Grian looked up and jumped back, but he managed to make out Gem, he put a hand on his heart and pressed his head to the tank. He could make out the shapeshifter laughing. Once she looked up Grian flipped her off making her crouch over, hands on her legs as she kept laughing. Grian eventually snickered. “Big fish?” Gem asked with her hands as best she could. Grian shrugged and signaled crossing over his eyes, their way of not seen.

Things are mixed here, what comes up goes down Hellens: convergent

Gem hummed and put a finger to her chin for a little. “How are you?” She asked The human vet gave his best nervous back. He got what he guessed was a “fair.” In response, from reading Gem’s lips. The two snapped-in-half cord. Gem looked at it and nodded at his discovery, before writing it down on her small notepad. Once looking back up, Grian did his best to mention the sun or vitamin D. It was a struggle. Grian at first tried to make a sun with his arms, but when that failed he pointed at himself. Gem was confused. He tried instead pointing at Gem, then her hair, she was called ‘redheaded’ but it was orange. Gem played with her hair, looked at it, then glanced with confusion up at Grian. He spelled out the color, and she clocked it. She hummed as she thought about oranges, then wrote something down on her pad, before showing it to Grian. “Vitamin D?” Grian gave a thumbs up and she nodded, scratching off the question mark. The human hummed, looking down and around him. He thought he heard something from the other vet, and after a bit, he looked up.

Gem started shouting, her arm pointing out behind Grian frantically.

The vet turned around and, as he did, saw the leviathan. It paused, eyes near shut as it adjusted to the bright light. 

After some blinking it opened them slowly. 

Grian locked eyes, but as far as he knew the creature didn't know he had done so.

Grian's chest sped up, thankfully he still had the tube near his face, so his increased heart rate wasn't using up the tanks on his back.

All were still, the leviathan's eyes locked on Grian, Grian still doing much the same.

The human started slowly moving downwards, trying to look small. 

Gem must have made some swift movements behind him. 

It was a poor decision. The leviathan taking it as a sign of aggression,dashing at Grian, mouth wide. It’s teeth slammed into the tank's side, and the beast moved sideways, likely misjudging the strike due to the blinding light coming from Grian's head. 

Thankfully the glass seemed fine, it just took more scratches. The breathing line somehow wedged between two teeth, resting against the upper tooth, close to being sliced. 

Grian's eyes were focused elsewhere though, as his light shown directly down the leviathan's mouth, into its throat. 

The human vet was stuck in shock, watching muscles move. The muscles were green and black colors, which reminded him of an orca with the pattern.

Some tapping from the tongue and pulling on the air tube forced Grian back into his senses. He looked towards the direction of the nozzle and made a mad dash through the open area of the leviathan's mouth, missing the teeth by less than half an inch. 

He also pulled a risky, but successful, move pulling the tube out from the leviathan's teeth as he escaped the jaws. 

He swam up as fast as he could. Behind him, he could hear the leviathan pulling back from the glass. It likely turned to chase him, but Grian kept going. 

There were 2 problems… 

Or… Well, 3. The Leviathan was built for the dark, for swimming in the dark while Grian wasn't. The large eel could also stand the pressure change better than him.

Regardless, Grian fought it, he'd rather take a couple of days off work with a scolding than a death. 

In his panic, though, Grian was late to notice another mistake: he hadn't stuck near to the glass. 

A second, for the fact he had left his weights on. 

For a third, he could feel the headache coming on.

Grian looked to the side to see the wall, then up, he could make out the sounds of shouting, and what he likely imagined to be the silhouettes of skizz and gem before jaws came over him and snapped. 

separating the breathing cord from Grian. The vet stayed calm enough to pull off the old mask, letting bubbles out of his mouth while he changed to his air tanks. 

Almost as soon as he did he was splashed around, smacking against some teeth, thankfully his tanks held. Grian groaned looking around he saw something reflective stuck in the leviathan’s gums.

He took his chance, swimming down by the tooth he grabbed onto it, feeling the serrations on his fingertips, then wriggled the shiny piece of mettle side to side soon pulling it out.

He tossed it out through the small gap that appeared between the teeth. Then swam up to the roof of the mouth, before pushing up on the leviathan’s hard pallet.

He wasn’t sure if it worked, but the mouth opened to suck water in sending Grian back some.

He fell back onto his tongue. Grian could feel the bumps from the taste buds through his gloves. That’s gross.

Grian got back up again, not for long, as the tongue pressed him to the roof before a swallow.

The vet slid some, so he attempted to wrap his arms and legs around the muscle.

It was so slippery, the leviathan didn’t even swallow and Grian could feel himself sliding.

The human whimpered and tried to pull himself back up.

It was no use though, the leviathan lifted up and swallowed.

Grian tried desperately to grab onto anything, but it was nearly if not impossible to do such.

He let out panicked words through his mouthpiece and once stopped by the throat muscles shakily tried getting his gloves off.

The vet felt his head smashed up into the roof but no swallow.

Seeing as there was no water or at least a level he removed his mouthpiece.

“Wait, wait, don’t.” Grian panicked. “I—if you eat me, you won't be able to digest my suit, and you’ll get sick.” Grian put the mouth part back over.

Almost all the leviathan’s movements halted at his words. The throat relaxed, and the walls came in on the vet, but it wasn't forceful, unlike before. He took the mouthpiece off again to beg. “Please let me up, I- I won’t bother you again.” He heard a deep rumble that echoed through the muscles around him. “Look I- I’m sorry I don’t know what people have done to you, but I- I don’t want to hurt you, please let me out.” Grian’s voice broke, a slightly higher pitch coming out at the end of the sentence. He put the mouthpiece back on after, just in case. There was a noise similar to a sigh.

Then a swallow.

The vet panicked, his hands reaching up and grabbing at the throat uselessly, his body was smushed and shuffled around a little due to the force of the muscles.

Grian’s movements have been stopped again, but his hands still reach up at the throat.

The leviathan seemed annoyed as the throat walls came in, his body waved around a little.

Grian’s eyes shut and he let out a scared “Mmmm.”

After a bit it stopped, the vet panted, possible tears in his eyes, his body shaking horrendously with adrenalin that wouldn’t be able to help.

The leviathan seemed happy with that as Grian felt himself moving down.

The human’s hand curled weakly on the throat, his face doing down behind his second arm.

Grian felt a couple of pauses, and how the throat moved with the breathing, he swore he could still feel air running over him but he didn’t think it possible.

The throat shook as a worried coo sounded.

The vet's eyes half closed at that, feeling a bit depressed now.

He took the mouthpiece off again “Please?” He begged again, his voice so broken.

Something pressed in on his side, Grian fought back a whimper, his hands clutching some of the muscle around him, but soon let go not wanting to pain the leviathan.

There was a soft purr from the large beast, the rubbing seeming centered around him. Grian wasn’t confident he was in a stomach, but he supposed he could be. That was until he was pushed down, and another, a 3rd, and finally he slid into a more open area. Something in him snapped as he did, he ran to the sides pressing in on the walls trying to upset his stomach. There was a confused “rrrrrr.” that echoed around Grian then the walls came in and compressed him. Grian struggled more not wanting to be digested. After a bit, he was just dropped. A noise echoed, a bit confused and upset. The vet covered his ears not because it was loud, but because he didn’t exactly want to pity the leviathan. After seemingly no effect he looked around frantically with his light. There wasn’t much he could see that would help him out.

He did find where he fell in, but it was about another half of him higher. Grian wasn’t an athlete, and he knew climbing was impossible. But on the brink of death, you’ll try everything, even if it's stupid to try.

Grian stepped back, his feet in the puddle and he tried to run, but the slippery floor just sent him down.

And for a while Grian lay there, pulling a hand to his face as he looked at it. His mind raced with apologies that he’d never be able to say, especially to his co-workers who had all watched it happen.

He remembered the funny memories with them, just the day before how Gem and him got into a tickle match over Grian putting mac on his tuna sandwich.

The vet laughed, it turned to sniffles, then to cry.

Grian curled up and hugged his knees to his chest as he sobbed.

The leviathan must have heard it because after a while he felt rubbing again.

He wanted to yell at it, but he refrained. Grian sobbed for a while, the leviathan possibly purring at his distress. Once the vet stopped he reached up to grab his mouthpiece out, only to realize he hadn’t put it back in since his last begging. How was he still breathing? Grian looked around again, panicked breaths. There was no stinging, weight on his lungs, or other signs that could tell him he was struggling to breathe. The vet managed to calm down a little, was it possible the leviathan had a brood pouch like the mers? He realized now too that no fish were on the bottom, or well maybe a tail but he supposed it cou;d have gotten stuck. Grian moved over and picked it up. As he lifted his head he saw a black sleeve, which looked like a diving suit. The vet swallowed nervously and reached down, pulling at it. He watched a second throat area open. Grian gasped and fell back, letting go of the sleeve, there was no skeleton, except a finger. The vet swallowed his nerves, and went in, pulling out the bone in case it was irritating, throwing the fish’s tail down as well, then came back up tugging the suit part out, it took a bit but then he was flung back, panicking to get out of the puddle he landed in. Grian tasted some on accident, but it tasted like- salt water like was in the aquarium. There was a purr that shook the walls soon after Grian got up, then they moved in. He panicked as he got smushed, and moved. He was disorientated from stress and wasn’t sure what way he was going. He pushed around, stopping to put his mask on when the water hit his back. Thank god he did as he was thrown out the leviathan's mouth, his half the suit in hand. Grian held himself in the water, mostly in disbelief. Eventually, he looked up at the leviathan, it looked back for a little before turning and swimming away slowly. The vet took no time starting to swim up, he paused and looked down, to make sure his pressure change wasn’t too much. He checked his oxygen too, it looked pretty okay. So Grian slowly made his way up, letting out some startled gasps as he broke the surface. The group had gone, likely thinking Grian had died, to be fair he’d had thought the same for himself. The vet pulled himself up, his mind hazed, he was out of it, but he managed to take off his flippers, before heading down. Once on the ground, Grian removed his air canisters, and goggles, before moving and dragging his feet. He wasn’t sure where to but Grian ended up cleaning his head enough to recognize their grieving voices. Someone shouted his name, and the vet locked eyes with a couple of them. Doc himself was sitting on a table, looking shocked, like he’d seen a ghost. Grian felt something smack into, and hug him. It took him a while to look down, Gem had her arms strongly around him as if he’d disappear. It took a lot longer for Grian to raise his hand to put it against her head as she sobbed. “G what happened?” Scar asked. Grian couldn't find himself to answer, his mind still in that moment. He wasn’t even sure if he was alive himself. “Grian?” Skizz asked, a hand finding its way to the human vet’s shoulder. He blinked a couple of times. “I-.” He started but stopped not sure how to continue, but tears started falling from his eyes as his head fell into Skizz’s chest.

Skizz hugged both of them, and Scar hugged Gem, Grian, and Skizz. After a little, their boss, Doc, spoke. “Alright soo, you look as pale as a ghost, and from what I’ve heard you at least were in its mouth.” Grian nodded, wiping his eyes. “I’ll give you 4 days, of paid time off, on me, if you need to extend it to a week, tell me.” Grian blinked in surprise. “I’d normally not do this, but, since you’ve come around the mers seem happy and healthier, so I’ll allow it. Besides, I have a feeling you’d call in sick tomorrow anyway.”

Gem bore her teeth behind Grian, he felt bad for the poor selkie. Doc only did this with Grian because he was human.

“I wouldn’t mind,” Grian said softly. “Would you guys be okay?”

Gem nodded slowly to Grian, Scar, and Skizz joining in soon.

He hugged them tightly. “Thanks.”

[truelotus]

THE UKITAKE FIC WAS SO GOOD AHH… I might push my luck when I ask this..but by any chance could you do older bf ukitake and younger gf reader. And I don’t mean like illegal, y/n is an adult. 26 maybe? and ukitake is like late 30’s.. IDK I JUST LOVE THAT LITTLE OLD MAN ><

Lowkey ᢉ𐭩 Jushiro Ukitake X reader

𓂃۶ৎ context: You and Jushiro—your older boyfriend—are spending a night together, grateful for each other’s presence [fluff]

𓂃۶ৎ warning: Age gap, older boyfriend, Female! reader

a/n: I’m so glad you liked the ukitake fic! I hope you enjoy reading this one as well <3 It’s a bit short😞

It was a nice, cold and rainy day. Your boyfriend, Jushiro ukitake, had his head resting on top of yours. The soft raindrops hitting your window eased you, along with being in the big arms of your sweet boyfriend.

“I still can’t believe this is my life.” Ukitake spoke out in a whispering tone, holding you tighter than ever. As if you would disappear if he didn’t held onto you tight enough.

“What do you mean?” You said, looking up to him. He looked back down at you, his face softening and a small smile appeared on his face, “What could I have possibly done to des this life I mean.” He brought his lips closer to you, reaching to your forehead, laying a sweet and gentle kiss on it.

“What would I do without you?” He whispered out, he unwrapped his arms around you, he cupped your cheeks, lifting your face slightly more up to him. “Maybe lost?” joking with him, He laughed by your response, then he leaned in, giving you a small peck on the lips.

“I would most definitely be lost.”

You’ve been with Ukitake for quite some time now, neither of you cared much for the age difference between you two. It was never a problem in the beginning, well for you at least. You always had a thing for older guys, so when you met Ukitake, he fit your type.

As for Ukitake, he was a bit hesitant to date someone as young as you. He’s never dated someone younger than him, he’s always stayed in his age range. But after meeting you and getting to know you, he simply couldn’t resist you.

He’s been with women before, but none of them could ever compare to you, you never screamed for attention but somehow, the attention was always all on you. As if you were a star, and you were definitely a star Ukitake would’ve loved to claim.

Even though you were great, you were still a bit too young for him. He tried to let go of you, he tried to distance himself from you. But he just couldn’t, he thought of you every hour, every minute and second. You were stuck in his head, he couldn’t just let go of you just like that, so he shamelessly went up to you again, hoping you’d give him another chance.

Of course you said yes, and now. You’re here, four years later. Ukitake was forever grateful that you accepted back with open arms, he felt less shameful about the age difference by then.

Many people saw the age difference between you two and thought it was weird, but you didn’t care. Yes you were into older guys, but you never actually saw Ukitake just for that.

He was sweet, he took interest in every little thing you liked and even tried to look into it himself, just so you could have someone to properly talk about it to. Thats the kind of man he is.. he complimented the insecurities he didn’t even know you had, he thought that someone like you could never have insecurities—until you told him and he was shocked—

You saw him for who he was, not because of the age difference.

You buried your face into his chest, getting a strong whiff of his rich vanilla cologne. “You really see me for who I am.” Your voice was a bit muffled, due to your face being so buried into his chest.

His fingers brushed out your hair, “I see all of you, you’re the only person in this entire universe who can make me feel young once again.” He softly spoke out.

You pushed yourself away from his chest, frightening him a bit. “Honey! You talk about yourself like if you’re 70! You’re only in your late 30’s. That isn’t old at all. You still have a long way to go.”

He eased up by your reassuring words, “You’re right you’re right. Being 38 is still pretty young huh?”

“Of course it is.”

You grabbed his face, pressing your lips against, soft and lingering. It was a kiss that spoke of love and trust. A kiss that said “you’re mine and I am yours.”

As you pulled away, you could see his soft and glossy lips, quivering. “Honey?” You said, in a confused tone, wondering why he had such a expression on his face.

“Nothing. I’m just glad I can spend the night of my life with you.” He pulled you closer, your warmth melting to his. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but here. With you.”

In that moment, you knew that no matter what anyone else thought, you two were exactly where you were both meant to be.

Together.

“But hey.. you still love me right, dear?”

“What kind of question is that? of course I do!”

[kind-of-a-writer]

Relax (18+)

Gator Tillman x fem!reader Gator helps you relax at the dinner party. wc: 2k

contains: older gator, reader is like 20ish and gator is a few years older, innocent reader, oral sex, p in v, slight religion kink, etc

“What if they hear us?”

Gator already had his large hands up your dress, squeezing at the flesh of your ass. His face was tucked into the crook of your neck as he placed hot, open-mouthed kisses against your skin. Your cheeks were burning, practically on fire. It felt good. Wrong, but good. 

“Mhm,” he hummed in response, clearly not bothered in the slightest. “Don’t you wanna feel good? Thought you loved it last time…” 

“Gator,” you said softly. He was right, you did love it, more than you wanted to admit. The way he had fucked you with his fingers in the kitchen when you found yourselves home alone just a couple days ago. It had only left you wanting more, even though you knew how wrong it was.

Still, you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t enjoyed it; that you didn’t like how good he made you feel. You loved the newfound attention he was giving you. As stupid as it sounded, it made you feel wanted.

It was confusing, Gator’s newfound interest in you after years of indifference and casual conversations you had only out of politeness. Maybe Gator was just bored, but you didn’t really mind. You’d always found yourself drawn to him, even if you denied it. He was a little older, distant, but always kind towards you, which made you feel special. 

You were supposed to be good, your parents’ perfect little daughter. But here you were, with Gator up in your room, knowing exactly what he wanted from you. He was sucking at your neck softly, humming against your skin, making it difficult to think straight, to think about doing what was ‘right’. 

“Don’t leave a mark,” you said quietly, trying to pull your head back. Even though you wanted him to. You wanted Gator to bite and mark you all over, make you his for everyone to see. 

“I won’t, relax,” you could practically feel him smirking against your neck. “You’re all tense, darlin’.” 

You didn’t quite know what to do, arms stiff as his hands continued to knead the flesh of your ass, drawing a soft sigh from your lips. This was all still new to you and Gator seemed to enjoy that; he relished in your innocence.

His words, while not doing much to actually ease your worry, were enough to let him continue what he was doing. He gently pushed you back onto the bed, bunching your dress up around your waist carefully, like he was afraid to rip it. 

“Real pretty dress, did I mention that?” Gator said lowly, eyelids heavy as he gently lifted your hips, tugging your panties down to your ankles. He ran his fingers up and down your thighs, almost in a soothing manner, noticing how tense you still were. 

You shook your head, looking up at him shyly. You were glad he liked it, he was the main reason you had worn the dress anyway. It was modest, but a little short, and you’d hoped it would catch his attention. “Thank you,” you said finally. “It’s new.”

“Yeah?” he replied. Gently, he parted your wet folds with two fingers, letting out a low whistle at how slick you were already. “Oh, you been like this all night, sweet thing? That why you’ve been staring at me all night?”

You didn’t know what to say, embarrassed he had taken notice of your longing glances his way during dinner. “No,” you tried to deny, but he only laughed in response. 

“S’okay, sweetheart,” he said with a smug smile. “It’s cute, y’know. You’re real cute.”

Cheeks flushing even more, if possible, you watched as Gator lowered his head between your legs.

Oh. You had expected him to use his fingers like last time, but this was new. Different. Even better, if possible. But it didn’t matter, really. You wanted Gator however he’d take you. 

He pressed a few kisses to your slick pussy before he flicked his tongue out, licking a long stripe up your slit until it reached your clit. You couldn’t help the soft moan that left your mouth, hands clenching into fists at your sides as he pressed his tongue flat against you. 

Gator sucked on your swollen clit, causing you to make a louder noise, something between a gasp and a moan. He hummed against your pussy, the vibration sending a jolt through your body.

Obscene, wet noises filled your otherwise quiet room as Gator’s mouth relentlessly sucked and licked like a man starved of water. Faint chatter from downstairs could be heard, but you were starting to care less and less about anyone hearing you as the pleasure started building up in your stomach. 

It was sinful, how he lapped at your pussy, the sounds you were trying to muffle by biting your lip. 

This situation, in its entirety, was a sin you knew you’d have to repent for later. And Gator was the Devil himself, moaning softly against your pussy like you were the best thing he’d ever tasted. 

Instinctually, your fingers found his hair as your hips rocked into his mouth. He smirked, his tongue swirling around your clit as his grip on your thighs tightened to keep you in place. 

“Gator,” you gasped out before you could help yourself. “Oh, God-”

“Shh, honey, I know,” he mumbled against your sensitive skin, pulling back slightly to calm you down, sensing your pleasure building up too fast already. He had a devilish grin on his face, his lips glistened with your slickness as he glanced up at you. The sight made you even more aroused, if possible. “You taste divine, just like I imagined.” 

Gator continued to caress your thighs, watching the rapid rise and fall of your chest, the pleasure dissipating slightly as he looked down at your dripping cunt. You looked down at him, unable to speak. 

“You’re so beautiful, darlin’. Can I fuck you?” he asked, voice low and raspy, as if he was asking for a simple favor from a friend. Not asking you to take your virginity. 

You blinked, unable to think. Your instinctual response was yes. Of course. But finally, you said, “they could hear us.” 

“You can be quiet, I know you can. I promise it’ll feel good,” Gator pressed a kiss to your clit again, making your eyelids flutter shut. “Better than my fingers. You really liked that last time, huh?”

Your fingers continued to caress his hair while he wore your defenses down one kiss to your clit at a time, making it near impossible to say no. Then, slowly, you nodded. “Yeah,” you agreed. “Want you fuck me, please.”

“Attagirl.” 

At once, Gator lifted himself up so he could settle between your thighs. He was quick to unbuckle his belt and push his jeans down to his knees, like he’d knew you’d say yes. You peered down, mouth watering as he pulled out his hard cock, pumping himself lazily as he looked down at you. Not that you’d had much frame of reference, but you knew at once, he was big. Bigger than what you’d expected.

He noticed the flushed, nervous look on your face. The sight of his cock leaking with precum, hard and wanting, made your pussy ache with need. There was no question about it; you wanted - needed - him inside you, his cock to fill you up and fuck into you. You could worry about the guilt later.

“I promise it’ll be good,” he repeated, his voice softer this time. “But gotta be quiet, yeah?”

You nodded in response, lifting your hips slightly as Gator leaned down. He tantalizingly rubbed his thick, leaking tip cock up and down against your slit. “Quiet,” you repeated, mostly talking to yourself.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Gator groaned as he slowly pushed his thick cock in, only to pull back out swiftly, making your stomach flutter. “Do you want me to ruin you? Make you dirty, ruined for any other man?”

A whimper escaped you as he teased your entrance with his cock again. “Yes,” you breathed, feeling your clit pulse. “Yes, Gator, please I want it so bad. Want you to ruin me.” 

Gator looked smug. “Yeah? You’re that desperate for it?” he asked in amusement. “Oh, baby. If I’d known, I’d have fucked you years ago.”

Slowly, he pushed his hips forward, sliding his cock inside your wet cunt with little resistance. The feeling of him sinking into you for the first time made your entire body tingle with pleasure, your breath catching in your throat. You couldn’t have known just being filled would feel this good.

His fingers gripped your sides, trying to soothe you as you whimpered at the sensation. It was intense, how big he was. Your slick, tight, walls were squeezing around his cock. 

“Shh, I know,” Gator cooed, leaning down and peppering kisses along your neck as you adjusted to the feeling of him inside you. He adjusted hips slightly, allowing him to hit a deeper angle, pressing up against your spongy walls. Causing you to moan loudly. “You okay, honey? Does it hurt?”

You shook your head, momentarily rendered speechless. Gator, despite trying to keep a cool front, was breathing rapidly against your neck, the feel of his cock stretching your cunt making him groan. He grunted when you shifted underneath him, twitching inside you. 

“You’re so tight,” he said roughly, like he was struggling to speak properly, “squeezin’ me so tight, honey. Feels so good. Can I move now?”

Again, you nodded. “Please, please,” you pleaded desperately. 

Slowly, Gator pulled his cock almost all the way out, then swiftly pushed back in, the tip of his cock hitting so deep you felt like you couldn’t breathe. He began a slow, gentle rhythm, rocking his hips against yours, like he was afraid he’d break you.

“Oh, darlin’, you take it so good for me,” he praised, sucking at your neck, picking up the pace just slightly. “You’re such a pretty little thing, takin’ it so well.”

Your thighs trembled as his thrusts suddenly got a bit harder, faster. Amidst it all, your arms wrapped around his neck, trying to pull him closer.

You couldn’t have fathomed sinning would feel this good. That Gator pounding into your aching cunt would make you feel more alive than you’d ever felt before. His hands moved down to your hips to keep you in place, his grip tight and firm unlike before. He was keeping you in place, not letting you move or squirm, desperate for his own release. 

Gator put his hand over your mouth as you moaned a little too loud. That familiar swirling in your stomach was starting to build up, just like it had a few days ago, increasing with every forceful thrust.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” he groaned. “Gonna come for me?”

Whimpering, your grip on his back tightened as your climax washed over you, your body tingling and vibrating with pleasure. It was sudden, overwhelming, the feel of his cock filling you up and hitting against that sweet spot you didn’t even know you had. Your whines were muffled against his palm as your eyes rolled back, the intensity of your orgasm almost too much to handle.

You moaned as he pulled out suddenly, hot spurts of his cum spilling onto your bedsheets and your dress. He let out a moan as he pumped himself lazily, getting the last drops to spill out onto your thighs. 

He grinned down at you, breathless and smug. “Told you it’d feel good, huh?”

He was right.

Still, the guilt was quick to catch up to you as he helped you put your panties on and tugged your dress down, the warmth of his cum against your dress now a dreadful reminder of the sin you had just committed. He pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead.

“It’s a shame your new dress got ruined,” he murmured lowly.

And then he was up and gone, rejoining the dinner party.

[all-of-her-light]

These are all interesting ideas. I'd like to add the observation (not necessarily a criticism, though) that this VN concept is, in an important way, antithetical to the themes of the OnK canon.

OnK portrays the entertainment industry as rife with dysfunction and exploitation, but at the same time, it doesn't portray the talents within the industry as doomed or helpless. From Yuki and Nobu finding love together unburdened by public spectacle, to Mem using age-faking and then age-secrecy to her advantage, to the half-dozen benevolent schemes Aqua pulls off from the Sweet Today through Scandal arcs – there's a recurring message that with enough cleverness and enough courage, talents can genuinely improve on the path of least resistance for themselves and those around them. They can't command the winds of the industry, but they can sail them.

Even Ai – though she meets a horrific premature end – manages to buy herself several years as a mother without losing the career that she and her new family depend on. And thanks to that time, she's able to achieve the one thing she wanted most: consciously and sincerely loving others, and knowing she's capable of it. And while her death results in an important sense from the very nature of the industry, it also results in an important sense from the mistakes of the specific adults responsible for her – mistakes that they can and do learn to avoid repeating.

As I see it, "the entertainment industry sucks" isn't the conclusion of OnK's thematic argument; it's a premise, clearly established by the end of the prologue. And one of the main ideas the series explores is how people respond to the suckiness if they are or have been harmed by it, or if they want to make a career out of what they love despite it, or even if they've played a role in perpetrating it. Characters' responses vary in how good or bad they are, but the choice matters, and valid options exist other than "get out of the industry before it's too late".

(Incidentally, I've wanted for a while to make a post about this aspect of OnK and how it contributes to the unintentional thematic incongruity between Aqua's death and the rest of the series. Maybe eventually...)

So if we imagine a VN starring Ai and thematically centered on the industry, where numerous different player choices are possible, but every one leads to a functionally bad ending – either the mere illusion of love at great cost to Ai herself and/or others, or the shattering of that illusion with only imprisonment replacing it – it'd be difficult to avoid conveying that talents in Ai's position are doomed to a degree that I don't think the OnK canon believes in. Of course, whether to share the canon's perspective is another matter.

Hoshino Ai was born to be the heroine of an otome game populated entirely by yandere guys who would put her in a dog cage

[thewistlingbadger]

I don't like ep7 of s2 but I had a little thought about the episode that I thought was worth considering and sharing. One of the starkest contrasts between the Arcane Universe and Episode 7's universe is Jinx and her much healthier mental state. In the Arcane Universe, Jinx is a character who has mental illness from a very young age, potentially even being born with mental illness. Her illness only gets worse with each traumatic experience she lives through, resulting in extreme meltdowns and hallucinations. But in Episode 7's universe, Jinx doesn't seem to have any of those same issues. People have theorized that it's because she has a more of a support system/a better support system than she does in the Arcane universe or because Episode 7's universe is more peaceful than Arcane's universe. However, I think the reason why Jinx and Powder are so different, despite loosing Vi at the same age, has to do with Ekko.

One of the things that really bugs me about this episode are the discrepancies between the Arcane universe and Episode 7's universe. For example: In the Arcane universe, Mylo really dislikes Jinx. He doesn't enjoy her company and he often blames her for every little thing that goes wrong. If Powder and Mylo had this relationship as kids in Episode 7's universe, as I suspect they did since Episode 7 seems to be pretty identical leading up to the kids' heist, then why doesn't Mylo blame Powder for Vi's death? Why are they able to have such a good relationship years later, despite all of the belittling Mylo subjected Powder to as a child? Well, what if it was because in Episode 7's universe, Powder isn't blamed for Vi's death- Ekko is.

When Arcane Ekko asks Powder if she was responsible for Vi's death, she scoffs and gets really offended, not guilt ridden or hurt. If she felt responsible for Vi's death then her reaction would have reflected that but instead what's the first thing that comes out of her mouth?

"You were the one that gave us the tip."

Now THIS is interesting because it's 100% true. We can play the blame game with everything that happens in arcane all we want and go all the way down the chain, and we'll eventually land on this fact. Jayce went to the undercity to purchase items from Benzo. Ekko saw him and instead of just up-charging him and leaving him alone, he followed Jayce ALL THE WAY to his home and proceeded to tell the other kids about how rich he was and the exact location of Jayce's home. Had Ekko not done that, then the kids would have never went on that heist. Powder would have never found the crystal, the apartment would have never blown up, Silco wouldn't have been able to make his move, enforcers wouldn't have flooded the lanes, Benzo would have lived along with everyone else in the family, they would have stayed together, Jayce would have never met Viktor, he probably would have never cracked hextech. And just like that, the events of Arcane never occur.

This is addressed in Episode 7's universe but it is NOT addressed in Arcane's universe. In the Arcane universe, Ekko and Jayce meet years later but show no signs of recognizing each other or the ramifications of their initial meeting. Earlier in the story, Ekko talked to Vi about the dangers of blaming herself for the events that unfolded post her arrest.

"That's a good way to drive yourself crazy."

And WHAT does Powder say about Ekko in Episode 7's universe?

"Oh, you know those ugly twins. Genius and Madness!"

Now isn't THIS fascinating. Arcane Ekko's line implies that he has his own past issues with blaming himself for what happened to his family and Zaun as a whole. However he no longer struggles with this and he doesn't blame himself at all, it's not something we see him struggle with. Ekko does not live in the past. He honors his losses but does not dwell on them. Jinx is the opposite way. Jinx has a hard time living with the present because she lives in the past. All she knows is dwelling on her losses and it's a struggle she never overcomes. Jinx does blame herself for everything that has happened and just like Ekko's line to Vi, it has drove her crazy.

But in Episode 7's universe, there's a potential that this dynamic is the reversed. In Episode 7's universe, Powder does NOT blame herself at all for Vi's death and the tragedy that was inflicted on her family. She is at peace with Vi's death and what happened that day. She honors Vi's memory and her issue isn't that she can't stop living in the past, her issue is that she can't stop living in the present. She likes the life she has and the community she has built but her life is stagnant. Nothing changes, she doesn't change, and even though the life she's living is comfortable, she's not really living her life. And while we don't have any definitive proof that Episode 7's Ekko blames himself for what happened, we do have evidence that points to this claim. We have the fact that Powder refers to him having both genius and madness. We have the fact that when asked about Vi, her first instinct is to remind Ekko of the role he played that day, and how Vi would still be alive if it weren't for the tip they got. We have the fact that it's thematically interesting and compelling. We have the fact that no one seems to be concerned about Ekko's odd behavior outside of Powder. They react to his strange reactions and inappropriate questions like it's just another day for Ekko, and maybe it IS. Maybe in this universe, EKKO is the one that struggles with his mental health and not Powder. At least not to the severity that Jinx struggled.

Additionally as I was writing this I figured out something HUGE to my own understanding of this episode as well as the characters and their parallels. Powder's flaw with living in the present is also Arcane Ekko's very same flaw. Arcane Ekko lives in the present but he's living too much in the present. He fails to consider the future. This is reflected in the fact that the firelights have no long term goals, nothing that they're actually striving for. Their only stance is silco bad, piltover bad. Once Silco is out of the way, the firelights literally have no idea what to do. They didn't plan on actually defeating Silco, and they didn't plan on housing and providing for all the extra firelights they're getting because ekko and his faction don't consider the future. They were fighting against Silco because they opposed him, not because they had a better alternative in mind. Once Ekko disappears, the firelights fall apart and fall into complete irrelevancy. They don't do anything new, they just all stay stagnant, only in the present. Without silco to fight they have no real cause, especially since piltover is too powerful to fight.

One of my biggest issues with episode 7 was the Ekko's journey felt pointless in regards to his character. I was constantly asking myself why Ekko was sent to this specific universe? What exactly did he learn from this experience? It wasn't that he had to go back home and do the right thing and not stay in paradise. Because Ekko addresses this really early on in the episode. While Ekko did greatly enjoy his time in Episode 7's universe, he struggle with the temptation of staying there because he recognized he had a duty and responsible to his own people, and that they come first. So that's not the lesson he had to learn. The lesson also wasn't that Jinx is a person worth saving, even though Ekko did spend a lot of time with Powder, because Ekko already came to this realization back in season one with his fight against Jinx. The reason why Ekko's relationship to Powder is so important in this episode is because he's able to realize his biggest flaw through her. Likewise, the reason why Powder finds Arcane Ekko so fascinating is because he is like her. It's only after Ekko has formed a relationship with her and seen her life that he realizes the importance of being active in his life and looking to the future. This is how he's able to save the day in the end. Or at least this is what I hope I was supposed to get out of this episode, considering im just now reaching this conclusion months after the episode came out.

Additionally, I'd just like to say that for me, this is why timebomb are a "doomed" relationship. Their worldviews are too drastic to be compatible without one of them changing. In Episode 7's universe, we can infer that between the two of them Ekko is the one stuck in the past while Powder is the one who's able to live in the present. These two characters canonically do have a romantic relationship, but we also know that even if Ekko struggles with the past, he's nowhere near the level Jinx struggles, so they're able to last. Arcane Ekko and Jinx don't reconcile until months after Jinx has been living in the present and not in the past. So the only way for these two characters to be together is if one of them changes their perspective.

[itsalwaysforyou]

so i started sertraline (i think americans call it zoloft??) very recently & i’m having quite a social week so i’ve been researching if i can drink whilst taking it.

and the nhs website says that you CAN, but it’s wise to wait a while after you start the meds so you can differentiate side effects.

whereas all the american websites are like IF YOU DRINK ON SERTRALINE YOU WILL DIE. YOUR HEART WILL EXPLODE. YOUR BLOOD WILL BOIL.

so i drank a cider tonight,

[sacchiri]

Hellsing 2002 calendar illustration.

Ein wunderliche und erschröckliche Hystori von einem großen Wüttrich genant Dracole wayda Der do so ganz unkristenliche marrter hat angelegt die mensche, als mit spissen als auch die leut zu Tod geslyffen

A wondrous and frightening story about a great berserk called Dracula the voivode who inflicted such unchristian tortures such as with stakes and also dragged people to death