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thdorkmagnet · 2 months ago

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Coveted Confessions (Turtle Tots: Before the Rise)

@flufftober Day 8- Alt Prompt 8- Written But Never Sent

Fandom: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

Chapter Summary: Raph has never once heard Donnie say “I'm sorry.” But that doesn't mean he hasn't apologized.

Duo: Brains and Brawn

A/N: This was another 'Make It Fluffy' alternate prompt and also falls very hard in the hurt/comfort side of things <3

Also I will be skipping ahead a few days for Halloween as there was a prompt I really wanted to get done for the holiday!! Okay enjoy!!

Disclaimer: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles belongs to Andy Suriano, Ant Ward, and Nickelodeon. All rights belong to them.

“Apologize,” Raph demanded sternly, arms crossed. All serious. Donnie had his back to him, purposely ignoring him as he angrily fiddled with a rubix cube. Raph felt his temper flare to life but fought hard to keep it in check. Getting mad would only make things worse. “I said apologize,” Raph tried again, stepping closer.

Still no answer, but Donnie’s movements were getting sharper and more aggressive as the cube rotated around and around in his hands.

“Donnie,” Raph scolded, his tone warning his brother that he was on his last strike here.

He heard a hiss and Donnie was now violently shoving the blocks of color into place.

“I know you can hear me,” Raph said, leaning down so his shadow fell over his little brother. “Apologize. Now.”

Donnie’s shoulders rose as high as they would go. “No,” he whispered in a voice that said he was about to stop talking altogether if he was pushed. That or bite somebody.

Raph sucked in the biggest breath he could, forcing himself to stay calm, even as his body trembled in pent-up frustration. “Donnie, you know what you did was wrong.”

If Donnie felt any regret or guilt he didn't show it, just continuing to fiddle with his rubix cube. Raph slid a hand down his face, exasperated with his brother and this entire stupid conversation. He wasn’t asking for much, just two simple words, ‘I’m sorry’ why did that have to be so hard? Raph felt his patience wavering to a thin thread. If he didn’t make some progress soon, he was absolutely going to lose it and that was the exact opposite of what he wanted to happen here.

So in the calmest tone he could muster, he asked, “Can you please just give me some kind of answer? I’m really trying here.”

Something in his tone must have gotten through because Donnie did reply, setting his rubix cube down and signing, ‘Not my fault.’

“Yes, it was,” Raph replied, stern. He couldn’t believe the gall on this kid sometimes. “You completely wrecked the kitchen. Mikey is gonna be cleaning cranberry sauce out of the dishes for the next year! Leo looks like a fruit threw up all over him!”

‘It was an experiment,’ Donnie signed back, sharp.

“And one I told you not to do!” Raph shot back, temper boiling over just enough to make him growl. “Which is why you need to apologize. If not to the others, then to me for not listening!”

Donnie’s hands stayed decidedly still at his sides, refusing to answer him in sign. It seemed he’d chosen stubbornly refusing till he died. A typical Donnie response, honestly. Raph didn’t think he’d ever got his genius brother to actually apologize to anyone.

That left Raph with no other option. He hated to do it, easily his least favorite part of being a big brother, but if Donnie was gonna be like this…

“Fine, then you can go to your room and think about what you did.” Ugh, Raph really hated grounding them. It made him feel like the bad guy.

Especially when Donnie finally turned around only to give him a very annoyed glare.

“Unless you want to say something to me first,” Raph continues, hoping Donnie would just listen for once and actually say it.

Instead Donnie’s gaze goes flat and he stands up and walks to his room, fists clenched tight to sides.

Raph sighs and goes to try and clean the mess in the kitchen.

…

It was hours later and Donnie still hadn’t come out of his room to apologize. Raph should have expected it- since his little brother was one of the most stubborn kids alive- but it was still a huge disappointment when there was no offer whatsoever to make amends. Usually there was something after Donnie had time to cool off but today it seemed Donnie was sticking to his guns on the whole ‘being innocent’ thing.

So Raph, being the bigger turtle it seemed, decided to take the initiative and bring Donnie his dinner. Not just because leaving his little brother to starve was something he would absolutely not do no matter how much trouble he was in but also because he hoped round two of talking things out might breed better results. Probably not but a turtle could dream, couldn’t he?

He paused at the threshold, knocking once on the wall to see if he’d get a response. He counted to twenty before silently peeking through the curtain to see if Donnie was actually inside or just giving him the silent treatment.

Turns out it was neither, Donnie instead passed out on his bed, back propped against the wall and head slumped to the side. There was a pile of index cards scattered all over his lap, bed, and floor, so he must have dozed off in the middle of whatever project he was working on.

A small smile playing on his lips, Raph brushed past the curtain and over to his brother on light tip-toe steps. He set the plate down on Don's nightstand for later and gently pulled off his glasses. Setting those aside as well, Raph carefully cupped the back of Donnie's head and guided him down to the soft pillow. The moment his skin touches the silky texture, Donnie sinks deep down into them and sighs in contentment, the snapper watching with an amused expression.

Raph pulls a blanket over him next, making bits of paper flutter to the floor, tucking it just under his chin and Donnie grumbles something in his sleep, rolling over. Afraid he's going to wake the young genius, he begins rubbing soft circles on Donnie's forehead, letting out the quietest rumble he can. Deep sleep takes the softshell quickly and he melts impossibly further into his sleep-warm bed with a slight snore.

Raph’s grin widens and once he’s sure he can remove his hand without waking Donnie, he starts clearing the mess off the bed. He doesn’t bother organizing them, because that’s Donnie’s specialty, but he stacks them as neatly as he can on the nightstand, right next to his bro’s glasses and cold dinner. He does it absently, not really paying attention to what’s written on the index cards- he doubts he’d understand it anyways- but then… one catches his eye.

His name is on it and before he even realizes what he’s doing, Raph’s already reading it.

To Raph,

I’m sorry for tearing your favorite teddy

-Donnie

Raph chokes on air.

The penmanship is crooked and awkward in the way a little kid would write it- how Donnie used to write before he’d learned how to properly hold a pencil- and there’s a little date at the top of the card. And though Raph isn’t great at those, he does remember the incident from years ago.

Donnie and Leo were fighting over Raph’s toys because he’d said they could each have one to sleep with for the night, and once it turned into an all-out tug-of-war, Beary Bearington’s arm had ripped completely off. Raph had cried and Leo had quickly apologized but Donnie had just gone silent and slunk off to his room with what remained of Raph’s precious teddy. A little while later Donnie had returned and silently handed back Beary Bearington, who’s arm had been taped back together. Raph had hugged his little brother so tight Donnie’s feet had come off the ground.

Raph… Raph had no idea Donnie had-

Had he written this back then and just… never given it to him. Had he really kept it all this time?

Raph shuddered just thinking about it. He looked back at the many, many index cards scattered all over the floor and piled on the nightstand and shuddered harder. With dread pooling in his stomach, he picked up another card and anxiously read it.

To Mikey,

I’m sorry for accidentally spilling all your paint and ruining your drawing.

-Donnie

The writing was much cleaner than the last, the date nearly two years later. Raph remembered this incident too, though not as clearly. He remembered hearing his baby brother crying and finding a floor covered in wet paint with Mikey standing in a puddle of it and bawling, a nearly complete drawing now stained with reds and greens. Donnie had just stood there wringing his hands together and not reacting. He’d tried to get Donnie to help clean up the mess but he’d just shook his head and run off to his room again.

Mikey had gone in there later and they’d “hugged it out” according to him so Raph had let the incident go.

Now he was thinking maybe he shouldn't have because apparently neither had Donnie.

Had he shown Mikey the index card or had he hidden it from him like he’d hid the one for Raph?

Raph swallowed hard, he really didn't like where this was going.

He continued sifting through another few cards before he found one detailing an event he recognized.

To Leo,

I’m sorry for calling you the dumbest person on the entire planet. You are at least marginally less dumb than others.

-Donnie

Raph was used to breaking up arguments that got out of hand between his younger twin brothers but this one had been one of the worst. Leo had done really bad at the math sheet Pop’s had given them for school and Donnie had made a joke at Leo’s expense. Only it had actually hurt Leo’s feelings, which left Donnie a scattered mess when the slider yelled something mean and ran off crying. Splinter had gone after Leo which left Raph and Mikey with Donnie. They tried to encourage him to go say he was sorry but Donnie had refused, eventually snapping at them to leave him alone and running off too.

Raph found them a few hours later, cuddling on a large beanbag together and watching cartoons, Leo flipping through one of Donnie’s favorite comic books while Donnie fiddled with the Jupiter Jim action figure that Leo never let anyone play with. They were chattering and laughing and teasing like everything was normal so they must have made up.

So why had Donnie kept this?! Why was he holding onto an age old argument that had already been resolved?

That question lingered as Raph kept flipping and flipping and flipping through the cards, his stomach in painful knots as he read over each one carefully. It seemed like every mistake Donnie had ever made was written there, even pointlessly silly things like eating the last cookie after Mikey called dibs or taking apart the toaster and putting it back together without anyone noticing. It was so sad and unnecessary.

Because even when Donnie didn’t say he was sorry, he always showed it. By repairing what he broke or offering one of his toys for them to play with or making something cool and new just for them. Or, in Raph’s case, just sadly laying his head against his big brother’s chest and letting Raph squeeze and squeeze until he was good and satisfied.

That was a Donnie apology, never said but always known and always felt by the people who loved him.

And didn't he know that was enough?! Didn't he know Raph and his brothers always forgave Donnie? Because of course they did, they were brothers! They could never stay mad at Donnie forever! Raph knew he certainly couldn’t. So why did it seem like maybe Donnie was staying mad at himself by holding onto letters he’d never actually sent?

Finally Raph reached the very last card and he recognized the date scrawled in the corner as today. He almost didn't want to read it but he couldn't stop now that he'd come this far. So plunging ahead, he read the note as fast as possible before he could second guess himself.

To Raph,

It seemed Donnie had scribbled out multiple false starts before settling on:

I'm sorry I didn't say it.

Raph felt his heart plummet to his toes, a deep regret wedging itself tight in his throat, making it hard to breathe.

That was it. That was all it said. It wasn't even signed like the others.

That wasn't at all the apology Raoh had been expecting. He'd thought Don's guilt would be from wrecking the kitchen not… not…

Raph’s breath hitched, the index card crumpling in his hands until it was completely illegible.

Good! He didn't ever want to read those words again. It was painful enough knowing Donnie actually felt that way!

And the only reason he did was because… because…

Raph’s words came flying back at him, sticking to him like tiny needles in the brain.

Just tell him you're sorry.

If you say sorry I'm sure Leo will forgive you.

Hey, hey, it's okay, just tell him you didn't mean it.

Unless you want to say something to me first.

But that- that wasn't at all what Raph had meant. He'd just wanted an apology, any apology, that's all. He didn't think Donnie would take it so literally!

But of course he did, this was Donnie he was talking about! His genius brother was never good at reading between the lines. No wonder he'd kept all these apologies hidden under lock and key. He probably didn't even think he was forgiven!

Raph abruptly scooped all the cards into his hands- completely done with the vile things hurting his little brother- and marched straight over to the little trash can Donnie kept in the corner of his room. He was just about to chunk them when a thought occurred to him.

Would that really help Donnie? Yeah he wouldn't have such an easy way to constantly guilt trip himself- and it would be so insanely satisfying for Raph- but…

It wouldn't change how Donnie felt.

And it wouldn't fix Raph’s mistake.

Raph glanced over at his sleeping brother then back to the pile of paper in his arms before making his decision. It took more than a little mental willpower but he finally managed to open his arms wide, letting the cards flutter to the ground instead of the trash can.

Right, if he was going to fix this he needed a better plan than just destroying evidence.

Admittedly, Raph wasn't very good with plans but he was good at cheering up his little brothers. He could do this. He could make things right.

…

It was several hours later when Donnie started to blink awake, groaning and grumbling as he shifted around under the warm sheets. Reaching one hand out of his ridiculously cozy cocoon, Donnie sluggishly felt around the nightstand for his glasses, nearly knocking them to the floor when he did stumble across them. He slipped them on with one hand while using the other to push himself up to a sitting position-

Then jolted back in shock when he spotted Raph sitting on the edge of his bed, utterly silent.

Raph gave the softshell a sheepish smile as he watched Donnie calm back down from the unintentional jumpscare, hand over heart and breath come out in rapid pants. He was glaring, too, in that very annoyed Donnie way, eyebrows raised in silent question but Raph wasn’t sure what the question was just yet so he didn’t answer.

Instead he waited on pins and needles as Donnie’s searching eyes eventually glanced downwards, landing on the small pile of index cards in Raph's lap.

Donnie’s eyes went wide, his pupils barely pinpricks as they flicked over his big brother’s face nervously. His whole body seemed to tense up at once, back going straight as a line, shoulders stiff, hands clenched into fists, just watching Raph with the uneasiest of looks. Raph heard the hard swallow, like Donnie was dreading something horrible to come and it made Raph’s stomach twist in knots.

There was no move to speak or act, instead it seemed the softshell was waiting for Raph to make the first move. So he did, giving Donnie the gentlest smile he could and offering one of the index cards for his little brother to take.

Donnie’s eyes flashed down to it in surprise before darting back up to Raph, eyebrows creasing in confusion. But Raph just continued to grin, waiting with held breath for Donnie to take it. The softshell looked unsure, but eventually the weary expression turned more trusting and he reached out and took the little card from Raph’s hands.

Raph breathed a little sigh of relief even as he felt his smile grow wider and more real, watching as Donnie’s critical eye scanned the card. It was the first card Raph had read, only now there was a new message written at the bottom in bright red ink.

I’m sorry for tearing up your favorite teddy

It’s okay. I forgive you

There was a long moment of silence, Donnie reading and rereading the note again and again and again, Raph waiting with a stomach full of butterflies. He could smell the fear stink wafting off his scales but made sure his face stayed warm and gentle.

The tense expression melted into something softer and Donnie turned that look onto his big brother. Raph smiled once more before holding out the rest of the stack for him to take.

The softshell latched onto these much faster, reading through them at his typical lightning fast pace, Raph following along through memory, each rebuttal perfectly captured in his mind.

Leo forgives you

Mikey forgives you

Dad forgives you

We all forgive you

We will always forgive you, no matter what

Please try and forgive yourself

And then the very last card, the one Raph had spent the most time considering, trying to think of a response that would do the most good for Donnie right now.

The card was still crumpled in a lot of places but Raph had managed to smooth it out enough that the words were loud and clear.

I'm sorry I didn't say it.

That's okay, you don't have to. I'm sorry for making you think you did.

Donnie gasped, the first sound he'd made in minutes, and Raph saw something wet drip from his eyes. So Raph scooted closer, putting a tender hand on Donnie's back. “And I mean that, bud. I'm sorry for putting so much pressure on you. You don't gotta do anything you don't wanna do.”

Donnie made a strangled sound and furiously shook his head, curling up into a little ball on the bed.

“No?” Raph questioned calmly.

Donnie dropped the card so he could sign his reply, keeping his head bowed. ‘Aren't you expecting an apology?’

“This is your apology,” Raph assured, tapping the card. “And you apologized all the other times, too. Just in your own Donnie way. We don't expect any different than that.”

Donnie was starting to tremble now, Raph seeing a few fat tears plop onto his lap. ‘How do you know I'm really forgiven?’

“Because big brothers know everything, duh.” Raph puffed out his chest in pride.

Donnie snorted, headbutting Raph's plastron before fingerspelling, ‘factually incorrect.’

Raph didn't know what either of those words meant which probably only proved Donnie’s point. The snapper draped both arms over his brother's back, not quite hugging him but enough pressure that Donnie knew the intent. “And also because you're our brother and we love you, so of course we're always gonna forgive you. No matter what your apology looks like, I promise you we'll know and forgive you.”

Donnie shuddered through a breath, using his shoulder blade to try and indiscreetly wipe away the tears, before sitting up straight and finally meeting Raph's eyes with piercing determination, the snapper nearly stumbling back from the intensity of it. But Donnie doesn't break eye contact even as Raph's drifts downward to read his brother's signs. ‘I'm sorry for destroying the kitchen.’

Raph smiles, big and bright, and raises his hands to sign back, ‘I know. I forgive you.’

…

Three weeks later Raph and Donnie get into a big fight about using a blowtorch without supervision. There is a lot of shouting and accusing before they both eventually split off to their rooms to cool down.

Raph is about to go apologize but is taken aback when he finds an index card carefully slipped underneath his curtain.

A/N: Another Donnie centered chapter, complete with Donnie headcanon! It's almost like he's my favorite character or something ;)

Seriously though this is a favorite headcanon of mine and will admit the inspiration came a lot from reading Ghost in the Shell by @amevello-blue where Donnie does something similar. Give it a read you will not be disappointed!!

#flufftober2024 #day 8 #alt 8 #my writing #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #save rottmnt #unpause rottmnt #rottmnt fanfiction #turtle tots #raphael hamato #donatello hamato #brain and brawn

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aphfanficwriters · 8 months ago

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Every month we will pose a question and collate responses as a fun and informal little exercise in getting to know each other and spark discussion. This month's question is:

“What genre do you most enjoy writing?”

Tama / @delgumofics: I like to write horror and comedy. Both those things are fun and they really appeal to my interests. Generally when I'm watching movies I gravitate toward those genres as well.

Lacy: I shall categorise my favourite genre to write under the umbrella term of drama. My interests span across too much spectrum, however I notice that I enjoy writing characters narratives towards the scenarios I present in the stories. It is enjoyable, to act almost like a God, and they can act and be whatever I want them to.

Eru / @eruverse: I think I’ve not written under any genre but slice of life? I already love writing domestic situations but slice of life serves me well as it provides a neutral setting for me to explore characters and their interactions. Basically, my whole shtick is character building, and I find that you don’t really need complex plots to effectively do this. My characters are well rounded even in very simple mundane situations!

Mossman / @one-more-mossman: I never thought about it, but I think I usually write slice of life stories. Maybe with a dash of drama. They are small, so I guess, they can be called miniatures.

Didi / @teaedon: What I write the most tends to be Drama, Comedy, or both, with more focus in characters interiority over plots. Sometimes Angst, often Horror, other times Slapstick or straight up bizarre (Crack). Something violent or bloody will happen ;) (or immoral, that's what fiction is for)

Yukihitomi / @arthurhonda: My favorite thing to write tends to be Romance, slice of life, and comedy. I also enjoy writing tragedies on occasion, but I have to be in the right mood (or need the right music)

Ash / Lutz: My favorite genre to write is drama 💙 I like writing characters being forced to open up as the plot progresses, writing something where "the only way out is through". But then they get a happy ever after, even if it isn't one they started out wanting 💖

WhiteWings / @smuttyandabsurd: I was leaning towards romance and drama as, well… that’s what a shippy author like me writes lol But in recent years I find that I like adding a touch of the absurdist in my fics. It’s not particularly overt nor over-the-top. I just like grounding some of the more fanciful characteristics of the romance/drama genre with something a bit silly. I like comments that point out the slightly absurd moments in my fics, I feel like it has succeeded in standing out then.

Prush / @proosh: Erotica and horror are my passions, because I find they've got a not insigificant overlap. I love horror lurking in the background of eroticism, and I love the eroticism that comes with horror. Interpersonal intimacy is something intriguing and frightening in equal measure and sometimes the author needs to be the scalpel peeling back the narrative flesh to dissect it.

Fed / @fedpawstered: Disturbia, erotica.. usually the two meshed into one strange little amalgamation. I like freakay stuff what can I say

@folightening: Definitely fantasy. I've always loved fantasy, and I enjoy not having to worry about how realistic things are while I'm writing. My favorite thing to focus on is the characters and their relationship to each other but I'm not sure what exactly that falls under. And I've been very interested in trying to write horror recently.

Rui / @reodo: I think my favourite thing to write is probably slice of life? I like writing stories with ensemble casts and lots of drama. Separately, I also like writing Erotica! pwp is super fun to write (especially since I don't have to think too hard about it!)

Sicily: I'd say horror or 'crackfic' (i don't know if it is a genre), and its just fun to do like a horror story with aph Germany x Shrek, oh and erotica even if I'm not good!

#hetalia writers' association #post: talking prompt #may 2024

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candyfloss-esophagus · 1 year ago

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Heyo, it's me! Not being late for once!

Okay, ask game time! (not holding back this time so get ready!)

These are all for Crying Wolf, cause I'll never be normal about it <3

☼

☄

✄

♡

☠

☾

☽

∞

★

(I know you've answered similar questions about the fic before, so feel free to skip those if you don't wanna answer them again <3 )

Hey, thanks for the ask!! I'm sure I have answered similar questions in the past but fortunately for you, my brain is a sieve that has been thrown over the edge of a waterfall.

☼: how i came up with the idea

I didn't actually come up with the idea all by myself, I'm part of the noirpunk discord server that regularly has little round robin fics and snippets that everyone can add onto. In its very early days, we were discussing what would happen if there were a symbiote that was virtually undetectable (and also, tangentially, what would happen if Hobie became infected) and I was so intrigued by this concept that I asked to use it in an actual fic!

☄: what the writing process was like

Arduous. Writing is like pulling teeth for me lol and Crying Wolf is certainly no outlier. I wrote chronologically whenever I had the time to sit down and think about it, but I had it vaguely planned out from the get-go. The only thing was that I added in another chapter -- chapter four was never meant to exist! I was going to shove everything that happened in chapter four and five in together but that seemed like a little much.

✄: something i deleted before the final draft

I post on a chapter by chapter basis because I'm too impatient to keep an entire wip to myself (trying to change that!) but there was going to be a scene where the symbiote was explicitly purged from Hobie. I decided not to write it because of medical semantics and how it would have made it even longer and also because my mental health was like a raft strapped together by duct tape at that point in the year.

♡: my favorite part

My favourite part is the end bit and Peter's conversation with Hobie because that was the thing that the server went into most detail about when we were cooking up the whole concept. I love thinking back to that night so much!

☠: something i found challenging

Fucking writing the damn thing lol. Motivation is very tricky for me and finishing what I start is even moreso (ta adhd!) but we got there in the end!!! As mentioned before, writing is difficult for me and I'm not actually a very good writer so trying to get it to a standard that I felt honoured what we had originally come up with in the server was definitely a challenge.

☾: how i thought people would respond to the fic

I.. didn't? Getting comments is so incredibly rare and special to me and the fact that I get so many purely because I write the most for noirpunk on ao3 is WILD.

☽: how people *actually* responded

Well they responded for a start lol. I got veritable essays on how bad I made people feel and theories for how it would progress and how well done the whole thing was and people from the server cheering me on and even one person who only investigated for the cannibalism, and were grossed out by it which is incredible. It was just a torrent of warmth and love and it was so confusing to me at the time but so important now looking back. It was an awful time for me and my life and having all those comments and responses was so special.

∞: something i wish i’d done differently

I read back on it a few days ago and it all seems so superficial to me now, so suffice to say most things and be done with it there.

★: something i’m proud to have accomplished

Just fuckin. Writing it. Finishing it. Impacting people's lives with it. That's why I write that's why I do this. And it was my first foray into more violent stuff so I'm glad I started it by diving in headfirst instead of just dipping my toes in.

Thank you for the ask! Ask game for any other fics of mine that you care to hear about is here, the fic Crying Wolf is here, and I hope you have a lovely day!!

#fiepige #ask answered #esophagus speaks #noirpunk #ask game #atsv #atsv fic #behind the scenes with esophagus

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echidna-auxiliatrix · 2 years ago

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My personal rankings of the 90s Sailor Moon seasons. These are my personal thoughts, you don't have to agree. Respectfully, this anime is over twenty goddamn years old, so I will not be tagging spoilers. Without further ado:

1. Sailor Moon S

This season has the outer senshi in almost every episode! I find Setsuna, Haruka, Michiru, and Hotaru more compelling as individual characters than I do most of the rest of the main cast. Also, there are lesbians! Utena and Anthy were inspired by Haruka and Michiru, and it's obvious in the best way. Though I think Haruka is more similar to Utena in Adolescence of Utena than she is to Utena in the anime proper.

No filler in any sense of the word, every episode is exciting and progresses things beyond the monster of the week formula. The Witches 5 are wonderful mid-tier villains, especially Kaolinite, Eudial, and Mimete (BPD queen). Hotaru is one of my favorites and watching Chibiusa learn to be a senshi is a treat. For all these reasons, this is the season that turned me into a Moonhead (read: made me acquire a new special interest).

2. Sailor Stars

The Sailor Starlights are better characters than I expected. You can very logically read them as transgender girls. They're girls who have to live as boys for their own safety -- and they transform back into girls, their true selves, in their sailor forms. The Animamates are also entertaining as mid-tier villains. I also adore Sailor Chibi Chibi! She's not much of a character, but she's cute and sweet.

There are a few things dragging this season down, however: the disappearance of "Moonlight Densetsu," no Chibiusa, the outer senshi only appearing every few episodes, and the fact that they spend the first few episodes wrapping up last season's arc for some reason. Also, the Starlights' sailor outfits are hideous. Same with Usagi's eternal fuku, it's over designed to hell. This season also just straight up looks like ass for a significant amount of the episodes. The finale drags a bit and seeing all that death and hardship becomes monotonous. I also wasn't a fan of Uranus and Neptune voluntarily turning evil. They've always been morally gray, but in S their thing was "the (good) ends justify the (ugly, complicated, violent) means, even if we have to be separated from each other." Not "let's turn evil to stay together!" Despite that, it's still probably the best ending to any Sailor Moon season. It was also so exciting to hear "Moonlight Densetsu" at the end of the last episode! I found it to be a virtually perfect ending for the show, despite my earlier criticisms.

3. Sailor Moon

It's classic. It's simple. It's cute. It's fun! I so adore the introduction episodes for the inner senshi -- and their deaths in the finale are fitting yet sad. The season is very neatly written, not really any loose ends (unless you count the one true filler episode). It's very self-contained, even more so than the other seasons. Naoko intended for this to be all there was to Sailor Moon, and it shows in both good and bad ways. Unfortunately, this season just feels underwhelming compared to S and Stars. There's also one of the two true filler episodes in this season, which brings it down a bit. Also, the Naru-Nephrite romance is just plain uncomfortable. There's a lot to be said about romance in Sailor Moon more generally, but this ain't the post for that. Point being is that Naru is fourteen and Nephrite has got to be at least ten years her senior.

4. Sailor Moon R

I've felt for a while that this season is weak. I think it's because of the Hell Tree arc -- though I love Ail and An as villains, this arc just feels half-assed at times. It also introduces attacks for the senshi that they don't keep after the conclusion of the arc. As for other weakening factors: I'm not crazy about the Specter Sisters. They're not very entertaining, and so I don't really care about them being redeemed. The finale of this season is also a bit difficult to follow; I found it somewhat convoluted. This season also has the second and last true filler episode.

Contrary to most people's opinions, I love Chibiusa in this season. She's a good complement to Usagi, and her antics are fun. This season also introduces Sailor Pluto, whom I love! I'm so fond of the fact that Luna P has her voice.

5. Sailor Moon SuperS

Where to begin. Well, first I'll give this season three massive compliments. One, it's by far the best looking season of Sailor Moon. Two, it has the best ending ("Rashiku Ikimasho") next to "Otome no Policy" from Sailor Moon R. Finally, the Amazon Trio are probably my favorite mid-tier villains in the series. They're bitchy, they're friends, they find each other annoying, they clown on each other, they're sore losers, they're all so damn dumb. It's hilarious.

HOWEVER. During the first bit of the season, there's some bizarre sexual overtones. We have these scenes of the trio at a bar, looking at polariods and commenting on women's (and sometimes men's) looks in skeevy ways. There's also the fact that they restrain their victims and look into their dream mirrors against their will while they scream their heads off. The strategy they employ is seduction, and believe me when I say that this isn't subtext. This all makes these episodes an uncomfortable watch.

The treatment of Fish's Eye in particular is concerning. He's a feminine gay man who typically chooses boys (in one episode he tries to seduce an elementary schooler) instead of men. Sailor Moon's treatment of MLM is frankly not great, but the way Fish's Eye is written smacks of homophobia and even transmisogyny at times. "He's a villain!" You say. Sure, but the only non-villain MLM in Sailor Moon is Mamoru (if you count the R movie as canon), who spends the entire series in relationships with girls. It's...uncomfortable.

The mid-tier villains that follow the trio are the Amazon Quartet, who are just straight up boring, save for PallaPalla.

Chibiusa is supposed to be the main character in this season, and she certainly has more spotlight than in S and R, but the writers can't decide if they want her to be the protagonist or if they want her to split that role with Usagi. There's also a lot of episodes that focus solely on her, Usagi, and Mamoru. Which I find terribly boring, because in these episodes the writers lean into Usagi and Chibiusa's similarities and make them virtually the same character...which they're not. Chibiusa ordinarily has a lot of early season 1 Mamoru's snark and wit, but in these episodes those traits disappear. Additionally, Usagi and Chibiusa always transform and attack together, which gets tedious and begins to feel too convenient, even for Sailor Moon.

Chibiusa is also given a love interest in Pegasus, who's actually a 12 year old boy and not an alicorn. Chibiusa is in the lower end of elementary school; she doesn't need a love interest. She's perfectly capable of carrying a season as the protagonist without this. I just find this writing lazy and problematic.

Oh, and the outer senshi are completely absent from this season, which sucks. They're in the manga, though! The idea the anime staff had for this season was to appeal to a younger audience and get back to the basics of Sailor Moon, but this just ain't it. The charm of the first season isn't there. The younger audience bit is also just bizarre when you consider what I discussed about the Amazon Trio earlier. I sense that there was a power struggle behind the scenes between Ikuhara and...someone, idk.

#personal content #sailor moon #sailor moon r #sailor moon s #sailor moon supers #sailor stars #infodumping: sailor moon

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stormoflina · 10 months ago

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Call me selfish but I want all the boys just to rest and not play international. City players always magically pull out of international for injury and then are suddenly fit for premier league games

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im with you, anon 😭 especially with our South American players with the upcoming Copa América.

as a south american myself, it would be wise if they didn't travel (while it would be amazing to win la Copa, i don't expect my country to get too far in the tournament cause my dearest Lucho cannot do everything by himself) cause shit gets ugly reallyyyy fast in our football. players over here loooooooove their dirty tackles especially those from certain countries that know that they can get away with many things cause they are more successful than others (just like certain countries in other regions lol). many of our matches are aggressive and borderline violent when you see how hard they play each other even without dirty tackles 💀

i will never forget Copa América 2015 and 2016, those two tournaments were filled with fights almost every single match. competitiveness here seems to jump straight from normal competitiveness to violence within like 5 minutes of the game starting lmao.

i remember one Colombia vs. Brazil match ended in a fight after tensions just kept rapidly rising as the match progressed. the whole thing exploded when Neymar kicked the ball just so it could hit a Colombian player and in retaliation a Colombian player came running and pushed Neymar which only helped to make things go even crazier. the whole thing became a meme and many were kinda happy cause goddamn, Neymar was so fucking annoying during that tournament 💀 (not that he has changed tbh, he seems to be getting worse as he gets older).

and oh my god, while this specific moment was not really aggressive or anything, there was this one match (Chile vs. Uruguay) where a Chilean player put a finger up an Uruguayan player's ass (Cavani, out of all people 😭) and the one who got sent off was Cavani after he lightly slapped the other guy and he, as football players do, dramatically fell to the ground holding his face as if he had just gotten punched within an inch of his life. However, the match as a whole was aggressive as hell. Crazy match tbh.

later, the whole thing got reviewed and the Chilean player got suspended for like three matches lmaoo. some look at him or hear his name and go "oooh, that's the guy that put his finger up Cavani's ass".

i remember watching that match with my family and we all just looked at each other all confused cause "did that guy really put his finger up Cavani's ass??? 👁️👁️" and then got mad when Cavani got sent off as if we were Uruguayans cause no one but Chileans were rooting for Chile during that tournament lmaooo.

- long ass rant anon with south american gossip lolololol 🇨🇴

My lovely anon, thank you so much for providing the South-American gossip, this was so amusing to read!!

I confess, I don’t watch a lot of South American football, but when I do, it always leaves an everlasting impression lol. Those players truly play football like they are in war, but hey, violence can be entertaining - especially if the drama is not happening to your favorites, but rather rivals haha. I’m so afraid of this international break, ngl, my favourite ever player is finally back from injury in our nt after 1,5 years and I just know if he goes down even with the lightest tackle I will be clutching my pearls lol. And of course with Domi too, or any players really. They also suffer from the passion disease and act like they are fighting for our country’s independence or something. It’s just a friendly, please protect yourself!!

And hahah, no, I actually remember the Cavani ass touching incident. I didn’t see the whole match but rather the videos and meme after that haha, crazy stuff. Which countries are the favoured ones in your opinion? I'm nosey and live for the drama 😭

#anons

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doyl1st · 10 months ago

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A long, rambling post about Ignatius.

Ignatius (Iggy) Duncan is Isaac's younger brother. He's a goofy, kind, and sweet man with an almost childlike innocence to him, despite his bloody backstory and violent tendencies. He'll never hurt an innocent person, but if he feels like you deserve to have your nose broken, he'll break it. The thing is, though, he'll do it with a smile on his face. Not a malicious grin or anything. Just this silly, almost dopey little smile.

Iggy is as much of a manic chaos goblin as Isaac is, if not even more so.

As detailed in my other post, he and Isaac have a great many things in common.

Where they differ is in their interests and specialties. Isaac is a man of science who loves math, engineering, and languages. He's got three PhDs and a doctorate. Art and music are totally lost on him, though. He likes them, but he's no good with them.

Iggy, on the other hand, dropped out of college three months in and started working at a record store. He's still extremely intelligent, definitely a traditional genius in his own right, but his true brilliance resides in music. Iggy's the sort of guy who can compose symphonies in his head and play any music he picks up. He's also the kind of guy who genuinely listens to everything, his favorite genres being energetic rap and the heaviest metal known to man.

He considers himself to be the Facility's failure, and has kinda low self esteem. That's really what's defined him for most of his life, allowing others to worm their way into his head. Isaac was a manipulator, but Iggy was manipulated.

Like I mentioned before, Iggy worked at a record store after dropping out of college. It was a really nice gig, expanding his knowledge and interest in music and teaching him a little bit about how the real world works. It didn't last too long, though. The store went under after only a few years and Iggy was lost again.

He was found after a bar fight that ended with him breaking the jaw of a gangster, some dude working for the local mob. That probably would've been the death of him, if the guy's boss hadn't been impressed by it. He brought Iggy into the fold, feeding him plenty of lies about how they weren't all bad.

Iggy wasn't stupid. He knew the guy was just telling him what he wanted to hear, but that was alright with him at the time. The guy was nice to him, made him feel like he belonged somewhere, and that's something he's craved since childhood.

At first, things weren't too bad. Iggy would run errands and do favors, doing pretty much whatever he was told. Then it graduated to him being something of an enforcer. If his boss told him to hurt someone, he'd do it. Iggy might've been only 5'4", but he had one hell of a right hook. He was fast, too, and not above using dirty tricks or improvised weapons in a fight. When it began, his boss would tell him some kind of lie about how the guy whose leg Iggy was breaking deserved it in some way, but eventually he stopped bothering. He knew Iggy would do what he asked even without an excuse.

Eventually, that progressed into Iggy doing hits for the guy. Same story as the last. He'd tell Iggy the guy deserved it, and Iggy would listen. The first few might not have been lies, if only to acclimate Iggy to it. It was hard for him in the beginning. He threw up after the first one. Cried himself to sleep. But over time, it got easier. Knowing the men he was killing would do the same to him if given the opportunity made it easier, too. Iggy eventually began to rationalize it as if they were playing some kind of game. If they die, he wins. If he dies, they win. If you're in the life, you're fair game. No hard feelings either way.

Iggy wouldn't say he necessarily liked killing, but he did enjoy the thrill of knowing he might die if something goes wrong. He's an adrenaline junky just like Isaac, but the difference is that Isaac likes daring heists and outsmarting his opponents. Iggy likes shoot outs and fist fights.

His life in the mob ended with a raid that landed him in police custody. It was almost immediately obvious that Iggy wasn't just some run of the mill crook, and after some talking, some phone calls, and negotiating, some kind of deal was made.

Iggy is now, effectively, a secret agent. He's on a tight leash, but he's at least free. Isaac's deal actually used Iggy's as a basis, but Isaac doesn't find that out until years later when he and Iggy reconnect because of a shared case.

Like Isaac, Iggy has continued to grow and evolve as a person after being forced into a safe environment. He's learning how to become his own person, how to exist without someone telling him what to do. It's difficult, considering some high ranking official is still doing that, but still. He still has a pretty warped view on life and death, but he's at least not as apt to kill as he used to be. With a good enough reason Iggy can and will chase someone down with a fire axe.

He's still pretty eager to fight, though, and now that he's had some formal training, he's a lot more effective. He'll never hurt an innocent person, though. Never, ever, ever, as he'd say.

Iggy's unofficial theme is Insanely Illegal Cage Fight. Even the title is fitting for him.

#off the record (ooc) ❌#very very long post #absolutely do not feel obligated to read any of these tho #they're mostly just for me to note down my ideas #so I’m not gonna waste tooo much time making them all nicely worded and coherent lmao

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ameliaashdale · 9 months ago

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My Autism Saga

Episode II: Duality of Disability

Recap:

A young girl with autism comes to realizes that she is an autistic woman in the modern world, even though the world itself is stuck between false progress and a fight for the dreams the old world tried to promise to everyone.

Today's Episode:

Amelia delves deeper into her strengths while being countered with drawbacks.

I have gone through my own sort of character arc throughout the years. Once upon a time, I was "The Girl": well-meaning but often approaches the problem in the worst way. Intelligent but unable to do other basic things (book smart as opposed to street smart). Often, she was considered brash and impulsive because she was dedicated to being more than she was. After all, every child wants to be seen as grown up in some way or another. Grown-ups are cool because they can stay up late, make their own choices, and be an icon in their own way. However, every grown-up and child has two things in common: strengths and weaknesses. Strengths are things you hone, while weaknesses can and often should be overcome.

For myself and a lot of other people on the spectrum, not every strength is something people recognize. Not every weakness can be overcome. Our strengths can be seen as weaknesses: like being hyperfixated on something not traditionally beneficial (like obsessing over the politics of the monarchy in a high fantasy novel/ studying the creation and design of your favorite line of dolls, as opposed to studying chemical compounds in cells/ not really focusing on the intricacies of the financial problems they make for their parents and themselves by not being able to a job in high school) can lead to that person being scrutinized for not trying hard enough in the important areas. Not everyone is going to like fictional politics; some people might obsess over real-world injustices and how different policies have always been in place to keep them down. Some people might know about every kind of mechanism that goes into trains, but subways and train stations can overwhelm them with the various sounds and smells.

We all vary in certain aspects of our disability. We are all valid, and all of us will need acceptance. Sometimes, we need more accommodations than we did as a child; for other people, it may be the opposite or the same thing. Sometimes, our interests change, as do our views on ourselves.

As "The Girl" slowly and steadily went through her own erratic hero's journey, it gave way to a more stable sort of personality. I am, or at least was, "The Girl." (You may call me Lady Amelia if you would prefer to put a name to my face.)

I have realized that sometimes, yes. I was irrational in school. I got overwhelmed very easily when I needed to work for long periods of time. I often screamed and cried, and it cost me in the long run. I don't have a very good understanding of what it's like to be praised as frequently as my peers, who didn't like me very well. I've never had a true friend in my class, my grade, or outside of school. I am constantly triggered by the memories of teachers constantly shushing me or repeatedly screaming, "No talking!"

I understand how to handle being when i am overwhelmed; i can recognize when I need a break and will tell people that I need to leave and decompress. If I can not leave immediately, then I try to keep calm as opposed to just screaming. My threshold for work based stress is higher than it used to be. I try to work as long and as hard as I can. I also understand how to communicate my stress in a less violent and disruptive way.

Of course, I can overwork myself and get burnt out. I might then neglect the activity (as in, talking on the phone to someone, trying to hold down a childcare job, or drafting a atory) for days, weeks, or even months on end. To avoid getting more distressed, I often avoid conflict as best as I can. I might also shut down entirely, just to avoid disappointing or scaring the remaining people I have.

Lacking positive relationships has been a hindrance for me. I want to interact with people; I want a connection beyond someone using me for a laugh or as an example of how not to act in a classroom. Alongside other common experiences in life, it would also help with my writing.

I love to write stories. I love to come up with new ideas from what I see and how I feel. If I have to walk somewhere in the rain, but I'm feeling pretty good about what will happen when I reach my destination: it's a teenage girl's lonely, rough journey that she is taking to get her dying kid sister some life saving medicine. It's a casual walk that two friends are taking because because it's not freezing out at least, and being stuck in the apartment for the whole week has been boring as shit.

The deep friends might have a casual chat that turns into something more--probably not deeply romantic (if at all), but it could be. I honestly don't know how to handle romance because I don't really have any experience with that. I actually struggle with simple, realistic conversations outside of plot specific moments. Sometimes, I even struggle with explaining things in the plot (The American Jedi is something I am constantly trying to rewrite because of that.)

I love using rich vocabulary. Fancy words are something I love--and fancy words can make fancy phrases if strung together the right way. Sometimes, I can forge an entire sixth sentence paragraph about how a monstrous entity has grimy, lice infested pores and reeks of the abysmally toxic sewers beneath the industrial hellscape it resides in. Other times, I can't even tell you why the red-headed girl is in love with her best friend other than "Oh, yes, this was all too familiar to them."

When I do interact with people, I don't really understand that the tone that they are using is just them joking because I don't have the time to process what they are saying. Sometimes, I react too quickly and stutter incoherently, or my words get blended together; other times, I don't respond because I am thinking, but then they scream at me for not answering fast enough. Meanwhile, I can understand subtleties and allegories when they are written out or shown in a way that I can recognize. I can make connections based on my special interests.

Example:

I love european history, and I also love studying disease, specifically The Black Death, and how it affected the lives of the peasants (the symptoms and how the sick were treated because of them, the religious response in this time of great despair, how it lead to dramatic changes in the real world and interpretations of the event. I love video games and the lore behind them, specifically The MMORPG Runescape. It's set in the mostly medieval/Renaissance world of Gielinor, and the game features a take on the Black Death. (I never got to play that quest because I lacked the spped and dexterity to react to fighting enemies properly. I mean: I can't even kick a soccer ball or hit anything other than foul balls in softball, so why would I be good at fast-paced games, like Metroid Prime or even Runescape? I can click a mouse, but I'm not really fast enough to select different attacks. Also, I am not patient enough to grind for XP constantly. Seriously though--why did i play this game outside of the lore??.)

So then i translate that into fanfiction. Remember how the teenage girl is going on an epic quest to save her sister from a terrible illness that will rob her of her life otherwise? The girl was named Nerine Elmwood, and she was a wannabe adventurer. She often got into tomboy antics that her little sister couldn't even fathom taking part in herself. As a result, Emily was often at odds with her big sister. But they loved each other, so much so that when Emily came down with the infamous "Plague of West Ardourgne," Nerine went crazy. She decided to travel to the epicenter of the outbreak, the titular city of West Ardougne, to find out if the rumors of a cure could save her sister.

I also incorporated a lot of other lore from the game, like how Nerine's family is Saradominist (think Christianity, but it's just one big arrogant God with blue skin, an army of angels, and vengeance on his side.) She grapples with her own beliefs (why would Saradomin allow such darkness into the light of his devoted followers? Am I wrong for leaving my sister? What if she dies anyways?)

I never finished this fanfiction past the basic plot premise, though I must admit the concept I presented is a lot neater than the original stories I wrote for Nerine. Nerine went through her own character arc: discovering her own abilities beyond the sword, coming to realize the value of her loved ones and their desires, and how her actions affect them and herself. How not every well-intended action can lead to a perfect ending, and that sometimes things can't be met with force.

Nerine was the girl I wanted to be growing up.

Now I am a grown-up, and I am going through another arc of my own.

Another arc, another Saga.

Next Episode:

Amelia recounts her special interests in depth.

#writer #autism acceptence month #actually autistic #autism #autistic things #health

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vitos-ordination-song · 2 years ago

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Growing up w brothers in a patriarchal family shaped me. My dad loved me. He was affectionate without me throughout childhood. I look back on my relationship w him in suspicion because there was a lot of unhealthy stuff going on there, but also, that affection was sustaining for me. I needed it and it helped me grow. I felt that he loved me in a way I really struggled to feel w my mother as I grew older. But my foundation of his love was marred by a shadow: he didn’t love my brothers.

I also have a little sister, and he did some fucked up stuff to her too, but he was really night and day w his sons and daughters, and I know from my aunt that he learned this from his father. He interacted with my brothers in two primary ways: punishment and harsh male bonding. He was affectionate with them sometimes but they were both terrified of him into their teen years. They would ask me, his favorite child, to ask him for things, because they knew he wouldn’t snap at me, and he never did when I asked for resources he usually jealously guarded. I can remember him getting violent with me twice. Once because I said he’d been drunk the night before (he’s been an alcoholic my entire life getting progressively worse), and once he slapped me across the face when I said I didn’t know if I believed in god. I was terrified of my mom, not just physically but more psychologically. My father, I didn’t fear at all—I sensed I had a power over him, and in fact told him off as if he was a boy when he got violent several times. I was able to subdue him. But my brothers feared him in the way a beaten dog would.

I think I always felt like I was betraying my brothers by being loved by my dad. It’s part of why I’m now estranged from him—I reject love which requires me to ignore the abuse of others. It hurt me that he did that even if he didn’t do it to me. Little children don’t have boundaries. I cared about my brothers. And it made me feel privileged in an unjust way; it made me aware of the arbitrary nature of favoritism. I never feared falling out of favor with him. It was my mom’s style to shift around favorites based on who was pleasing her or pissing her off. But I knew on a more fundamental level that it was possible for me to be treated as my brothers were being treated. Like, I wasn’t being loved for who I was or because I was his child or because I deserved it—it was his whim basically. As much as his love for me sustained me it made me sick.

I think I’ve always been fascinated with relationships between men for the reasons above. I enjoy trying to understand men. I never understood my father or why he did those things to my brothers. I understand domination rituals, women do them too, but the male version was something I was left out of. As much as my father kept the abuse for my brothers, he was also bringing them into manhood—and our family’s definition of that included skills I wasn’t allowed to learn, like any handy work or car stuff. I was excluded. I don’t actually think my dad taught them well but it was something I longed to be a part of as a girl. Why couldn’t I join Boy Scouts and learn how to start a fire? As I aged I began to realize how much my brothers were being hurt by all this male socialization and I stopped feeling jealous of it. Now I find it all fascinating.

I’m also interested in alternatives. Yes I was into gay male love stories but I read more stories about platonic male bonding. What would a good father look like, not just for me as a girl but how could a father raise sons well? What would it be like to have a grandfather (one of mine is a rapist and the other one also sucked)? How can men be friends to each other and to women in a world which seeks to destroy their decency, very often?

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incorrectbatfam · 2 years ago

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serious question, what makes you think Jason is Bruce’s favorite? Is this fanon or canon? I always assumed it was Dick or even Barb

I don't think Bruce intentionally plays favorites, but it's there at an unconscious level and much of it involves how Bruce met and approached each kid. This is still my headcanon but I've got some basis for it.

When Bruce met Dick, he was still young (early to mid 20s, old enough to legally adopt but young enough to not feel ready to be a parent) and the age gap between him and Dick wasn't that large (around 13-16 years, depending on which continuity). Going into it, both Bruce and Dick approached the relationship with the intention of Dick only being Bruce's ward, because Bruce wasn't looking to parent and Dick didn't want to replace John and Mary. The adoption issue didn't arise until Dick was no longer the only kid in the picture—that's when he felt contempt for the differential treatment.

(side note: what the FUCK is this artwork)

By the time Jason came into the picture, Dick was already an adult and Bruce was older, more mature, and more mentally equipped to approach the situation from a parenting perspective rather than a mentoring one. Also, while he and Dick had a mutual mentorship agreement, he and Jason had the iconic tire-stealing beginning that highlighted Jason's need for a parent rather than a teacher.

We have plenty of moments in the early days of Bruce knowing Jason really well—I daresay more than he knew Dick. Jason was also the first to be adopted. That's big, but I think the bigger thing that differentiates their relationship from the Bruce's relationship with the other batkids is that Jason's personality challenged Bruce in a healthy way—the way kids are supposed to challenge their parents.

Looping back to Dick, the tension between him and Bruce thickens after Jason's death, which carries over all the way to Tim's early Robin days.

As for Tim, he entered the picture at a really rough time and wedged his way into the Robin role, even though Bruce was adamantly against it. It was from a place of concern, but also Bruce was still extremely distraught after Jason's death. One of the few consistent pieces of lore is how Bruce changed—how he got more reckless and violent—after Jason's death.

Even after things mellowed out with Tim, Bruce didn't adopt him until Captain Boomerang killed Tim's parents. Meaning again, the business partnership came first. Plus, Tim wanted to honor Jason's memory, so it's expected that he would've placed some distance from Bruce so he doesn't replace Jason as Bruce's son.

Steph already had a family when she donned the Spoiler mantle (obviously, she wanted to stop her dad). How dysfunctional her family was depends on the canon, but they exist. She's not Bruce's kid legally, and he knows she's fiercely independent and doesn't need to be parented. If anything, Babs was more of a mentor to Steph than Bruce.

With both Damian and Cass, Bruce approached them with a certain distrust, given their similar violent upbringings. Even though they now hold a special place in Bruce's heart, unlike Jason they had to prove their place in the batfamily. Even as their relationships progress, Bruce was still wary of their abilities and the risk of them going off the rails (Damian more so than Cass). Bruce saw Damian as a son first, but because of the nature of their double-lives, there was too much of that and not enough of the Batman-Robin partnership—another indicator of his lack of faith in Damian.

Although Duke was a foster, he's currently under his cousin's care and has made a point about not replacing his parents as far as I know, even if he does have a place at the Manor. Duke and Bruce's relationship is more businesslike, similar to Bruce and Dick. He's still part of the batfamily of course, but he's more on the same level as Steph.

Bruce continued to take kids in, but it's evident that Jason held a special place. And this could be a case of the dead child being the golden child, but he had a difficult time talking about Jason whilst also making a point to remember him (and to have the others remember him too).

I think the second part to this shows how he fixated on Jason even though multiple characters were dead at the time.

We all know Bruce and Jason have a million issues after Jason comes back and becomes Red Hood. I don't need to dive into that.

But this:

(Jason's hair is sinful but I'll let it slide)

Bruce's relationship with the others also grew and we know he loves his whole family, but there's just something landmark about this moment. Bruce is a man of famously stubborn morals who frequently placed his abstract mission over his relationships, yet here we see him push all of that aside to welcome his son back into his life. Despite everything, Bruce never hated Jason. Not once. Not for a moment.

#ask #bruce wayne #batman #jason todd #red hood #batfamily #batfam #batboys #batbros #batkids #batsiblings #batman family #dc comics #images are not mine #canon #headcanon #tw death mention

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katsuhera · 4 years ago

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paranoia

pairing: bakugou katsuki x f!reader tw/warnings: nsfw (18+), dumbification, alcohol, some choking, some degradation, some cockwarming, canon au but not relevant to story, aged up characters (18) wc: 4k

“paranoia, anyone?” kaminari asked, wriggling his eyebrows at the group. tonight was a chill drinking night, celebrating the start to summer vacation.

“ooh! i’m down,” mina exclaimed excitedly, clapping her hands together. you sat in the corner, just blissfully happy and quiet. you hadn’t drunk too much yet, but you could undoubtedly feel a light buzzing coursing throughout your veins, enough to make you just want to sit and recalibrate as everyone else moved animatedly around you.

“what’s that again?” kirishima asked, sipping his drink. “i forgot how to play, i think.”

“okay, okay, wait, let’s all sit in a circle,” kaminari started, waving his hands around. “it’ll be easier that way.”

“tch,” bakugou scoffed, a surly look on his face as kirishima forced him to scoot closer to the rest of the group. “do we have to? this is probably a shitty game.”

“relax, it’s fun, i swear,” mina assured him, her gentle hand on your shoulder encouraging you to scoot in closer as well. “one of my favorite drunk games! i promise.”

“okay, so here’s how we play,” kaminari said. “we go in a circle, like clockwise or counter-clockwise, whatever, and each person whispers a question to whoever’s next to them, and the answer has to be the name of someone in this room.”

“it sounds kind of complicated but you’ll understand once we play,” mina said. “so, for example, i’m sitting next to kirishima – i will ask him a question that only he can hear, like, ‘who has the coolest quirk?’ and he’ll say like ‘todoroki,’ or something, out loud for everyone to hear. and if todoroki wants to know what the question was, he has to take a shot, and then kirishima will expose the question.”

kaminari nodded, adding on: “it goes like that, but usually the questions get… spicy.” he smiled toothily, his eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint to them. “all questions are fair game! let’s not be mean, though.”

“let me grab some drinks, but you guys can get started!” mina said, getting up and heading off to the kitchen.

you glanced around the circle, giggling inwardly at how dazed iida and some of your other classmates seemed. iida in particular never really got around to drinking much, but when he did, he was predictably a lightweight.

everyone else seemed to be fine and vibing, and you curled your knees into your chest as you got comfortable, waiting for the game to start. drinking games were always fun with your class, especially when mina and the rest of their squad took control.

“who wants to go first?” kaminari asked, looking around.

“i can,” todoroki volunteered quietly, surprising everyone else.

“oh? bet, then go ahead and ask bakugo a question. we’ll go counter-clockwise, then,” kaminari piped up, getting up a little to help mina set the bottles of alcohol and plastic shot glasses down in the middle.

a hushed silence fell over the group as todoroki sat pensively, thinking of a question, before leaning in to bakugou’s grimacing face.

“what a stupid question,” bakugou snickered, and answered without missing a beat. “deku.”

everyone nearly snapped their necks to turn around and look at midoriya.

“do you want to know what the question was?” mina asked.

midoriya shook his head violently. “i think i’m good.”

bakugou sneered before cracking his neck and pausing to think of a question for kirishima.

“hurry up, bro,” kirishima teased, earning a scowl from bakugou.

“shut the fuck up,” he growled, leaning in to whisper his question.

you loved watching their best friend dynamic. bakugou was normally on everyone’s bad side, his antagonizing manner turning most people who met him off from interacting with him ever again. but with the way he interacted with kirishima, you knew that he probably had a softer side that he was either too embarrassed of or insecure to let on.

you felt your cheeks flush as you lost yourself in thought, staring at the redhead and the blonde – well, mostly the blonde, and the way his triceps flexed smoothly as bakugou leaned on his arm to get closer to kirishima.

“what are you staring at?” mina whispered excitedly in your ear. startled, you snapped your head to the side to look at her.

“nothing, nothing,” you murmured, embarrassed. if mina knew, you’d never hear the end of it.

“um...,” kirishima started, his pale cheeks flushed crimson as he prefaced his response to bakugou’s question. his eyes darted worriedly around the circle, lingering for a bit on jirou. “jirou… i think.”

jirou’s head immediately shot up from its cozy spot on kaminari’s shoulder, narrowing her eyes as she looked at kirishima. “shot,” she demanded, eliciting laughs from the group. mina poured one out for her and handed it over, giggling as jirou downed it easily, not even a hint of a wince on her face.

“what was the question?” she asked, looking straight at kirishima, making him blush even further.

“who here is…” his voice trailed off meekly.

“who here’s most likely to have a daddy kink,” bakugou grinned, his vermillion eyes glinting with amusement. “interesting… jirou, hah? i can see it.”

you smiled as you watched their interaction spiral – you’d never seen jirou more embarrassed in her life. kaminari watched on in mild amusement, though you could tell that the tips of his ears were also red.

interesting, maybe it is true, you mused to yourself. can’t blame her, though.

“my turn! ask me a question, kiri,” mina said, clapping her hands and sipping her drink.

kirishima paused in thought before covering his lips and her ear with his hand.

“stop!” mina laughed, gently slapping his shoulder. “you really asked me this knowing who i’d say?”

“yeah,” kirishima chuckled. “go on, say it.”

“mr. bakugou katsuki,” mina said, rolling her eyes. “you want a shot, right?”

“tch,” he responded, grabbing the bottle. “tell me the damn question.”

mina waited for the alcohol to make its way down his throat before she exposed herself.

“‘who here do i think will get married last?’”

“and you said me?” he asked, indignant. “oi, raccoon eyes–”

“oh my god, relax,” she replied offhandedly. “clearly it’s because you’re going to be the number one hero or whatever and you won’t have time for marriage. anyway, i get to ask y/n next!”

bakugou growled, but left it alone, choosing to sit and glower at her instead.

“i’ve got a good one,” mina smirked, and immediately you knew that you were in for a tricky question.

“who here would you fuck?” she whispered, giggling as she pulled away and watched for your reaction.

you knew it was coming. not necessarily to you, but you knew that question was coming. it’s always asked. you sighed, regretting not sitting next to deku or momo who probably would have gone easy on you with the questions.

good lord mina, you thought frustratedly, putting your palm to your forehead.

“i hate you,” you said, monotoned, much to mina’s glee. “i need a shot before i answer.”

“here you go, bestie!” she replied, immediately pouring one out for you.

everyone else looked on eagerly, murmuring as you downed the shot, making a face as the alcohol burned its way down your throat.

“damn, what kind of question needs a shot before getting answered?” kaminari asked aloud, watching you with wide eyes.

you took a deep breath, looking around the group and trying to decide on who to choose. but your actions were futile; for you, there was only one answer – and there had only ever been one answer, really.

“... bakugou,” you said finally, hesitating to make eye contact with him.

“oh?” he said, cocking an eyebrow. “shot, raccoon eyes.”

“i already poured one for you!” she said happily, handing it to him. within a second, his cup was empty.

“so? spit it out, y/n,” he grinned.

“who here… would i fuck,” you said the last word with finality, anticipating the hoots and chuckles you’d get from the group.

“this is such a lewd conversation,” iida interjected abruptly, waving his hands towards the middle of the circle. “we shouldn’t–”

“you’d fuck bakugou?” kaminari asked you, his eyes wide with shock. “why?”

“what do you mean?” you felt blood rush to your face, engulfing you in slight embarrassment as you actively tried to avoid the gleaming crimson eyes that were boring holes into the side of your skull.

“i can see it, i think,” momo said, smiling at you. you were sure that what she said was meant to be reassuring, but you weren’t so sure of how helpful it was at the moment.

“so, bakugou, got anything to say?” kirishima asked with a wink, slapping his friend’s shoulder.

he was uncharacteristically silent as the rest of your peers held their breath, waiting for his response.

“tch,” he started, eyes darting to yours. “just that i’m not surprised.”

you held his gaze somewhat defiantly, thanks to the alcohol. sober you would have cast your eyes down immediately, praying for the moment to be over.

“okay, okay! next, next – gotta keep the game moving,” mina said, not wanting you to have to stay in the spotlight for too long. “y/n, ask kaminari something.”

your mind was undeniably foggy with the way you could feel bakugou’s eyes burning into your head, and you weren’t even sure how you were able to come up with a question on the spot. you muttered something stupid about who would be most likely to get robbed, and thankfully, his answer and the following questions kept the game moving along smoothly.

as the night progressed, everyone found themselves drunker and more comfortable with each other, though the questions had definitely gotten spicier. as uraraka rested her head on midoriya’s lap and jirou found herself leaning into kaminari’s arm, you couldn’t help but smile at how cute they looked. your class had come a long way since your first year together.

“i’m going to pee,” you announced, getting up and wobbling as the alcohol rushed to your head.

“oh shit, are you good?” mina asked, getting up to try and stabilize you, despite not being too stable herself.

“yeah, yeah, i’m fine,” you said, waving her off. “bathroom’s right there, i’ll be good.”

you stumbled your way over, stepping delicately over kirishima’s legs as you cut through the circle.

you used your time in the bathroom alone to try and sober yourself up. the sensation of the running cold water on your skin seemed to wake you up, and you examined yourself in the mirror.

fuck… i’m drunk, you thought after a couple of moments, giggling at the realization. disheveled strands of hair framed your face, and your eyes stayed unfocused no matter how hard you tried to get them to focus. you sighed, thinking that that was the best it was going to get, accepting your probable future hangover.

you opened the door, wringing your hands dry when an unfamiliar hand grabbed at your wrist, swallowing it in its large palm.

“bakugou?” you gasped, startled. “what…? is something wrong?”

he continued to stare at you, his large figure slowly backing you up into the wall, his body encaging you.

“did you mean it?” he asked lowly.

“what?”

“don’t be stupid,” he said impatiently. “your answer to raccoon eyes’ question.”

oh.

“i…,” you spoke hesitantly. how the fuck were you even supposed to answer that? “yeah, i guess.”

“you ‘guess’? is that a yes or a no?” he stepped in closer, backing you impossibly closer into the wall. you cowered from his stare, his body suddenly seeming much larger than you’d ever noticed before.

“i mean, yeah, i would,” your voice came out small, despite all of the mock defiance you held in your stare just an hour prior. “happy?”

he paused, holding his breath and searching your face intently. his expression was unreadable; normally, his lips were pulled into a grimace – but now, they sat in a neutral position. his eyes were the only elements of his face that gave away some semblance of emotion.

“... yeah,” he replied finally. “you could say that.”

“huh?” you asked, confused.

“come,” bakugou replied simply, tugging at your wrist and heading for the bedrooms upstairs.

“what? where are we going?” you could barely keep up with his strides. “bakugou, they’ll notice if we’re gone–”

“let them,” he sneered. “everyone’s pretty much knocked out, anyway.”

your heart throbbed in your chest as you followed him up the stairs, still slightly shell-shocked by his actions.

there’s no way this is happening right now, you thought incredulously, the only thing grounding you being the feeling of his hand on your wrist. well, i guess i didn’t lie – i would fuck him, you thought, observing the way his back muscles rippled through his black tank top. you weren’t lying – you just never thought he’d take you up on it.

you rounded the corner, realizing suddenly that he was taking you to his room – his private, secluded room that no one in the class had so far had the privilege of seeing.

“your room, bakugou? what an honor,” you giggled teasingly.

“shut it,” he growled, but you knew that he was all bark and no bite at this point.

his pace was fast and before you knew it, you were already in his room, pushed up against his door with your wrists pinned against it as he towered over you.

“you should have said something earlier, princess, maybe this would have happened a long time ago,” he said, his breath hot on your neck.

you opened your mouth to respond, but were interrupted by his lips on yours, urgent and passionate.

his tongue danced with yours as your teeth gnashed slightly; the both of you were drunk and sloppy, falling into each other as you let your thoughts swirl into nothingness.

he pressed his hips forward into yours, and you gasped slightly at the feeling of his cock stiffening behind his sweats. automatically, you rolled your hips into his, eliciting a low groan from him.

“not gonna last very long if you keep doing that, princess,” he murmured against your lips.

“huh? aiming to be a pro hero and you can’t handle that?” you teased, but were swiftly cut off as his right hand circled your neck, his left finding purchase against the small of your back as he swiveled you around to toss you on his bed.

“oi, don’t test me,” bakugou said, immediately hovering over you, supporting himself with both hands on each side of you and his knee in between your thighs.

he leaned in to suck at your neck, his hand sliding under your shirt to grasp at your breast, rolling your pebbled nipple between his fingers.

a dull ache started to pulse in your core, and you could feel yourself getting wetter, soaking the thin panties you wore. it didn’t help that with his ministrations, bakugou pressed his knee harder into you, as if knowing that you were desperate for some friction.

you arched your back into his chest, wrapping your arms around his neck and trying to bring him closer to you.

“desperate slut,” he chuckled darkly, nipping at your neck. “you’re lucky i wanted this, too.”

“oh? is that a confession, bakugou?” you asked smugly.

“you wish,” he replied snarkily, fisting your shirt and tugging it up, exposing your breasts. he moved his head down, planting wet kisses across your chest while pulling your bra down, the soft flesh spilling out of the restraining fabric.

a light buzzing filled your body – anticipation mixed with alcohol, and your mind was blurry, unable to focus on a single thought at a time. you laced your fingers into his hair, tugging softly at the blonde locks as his tongue lapped gentle circles over your nipple.

he brought his other hand down to pull at the waistband of your sleep shorts, and you lifted your hips, making it easier for him. as his fingers met your clothed cunt, he laughed darkly, sending a shiver down your spine.

“this wet for me, princess?”

you inadvertently tried to close your thighs, an attempt to hide the unmistakable dark spot that had formed at the crotch of your panties.

“no no, don’t hide,” he crooned, dipping his finger below the waistband of the lace cloth. “where’s all the brattiness from earlier, hmm?”

“tch,” you scoffed, tugging harder at his hair as you were at a loss of words.

smoothly, he pulled the fabric down, a low moan falling from his throat as he watched the string of slick that connected you to your panties.

slowly, he glided a finger up your entrance, gathering your arousal on it before shoving it into your mouth, forcing you to clean it off. he watched each and every one of your movements – like a hawk watching its prey.

not wanting to be the only one exposed, you moved your hand down to tug gently at his sweats, silently asking him to take them off. he listened, removing them easily and throwing his sweats and boxers across the room.

“you look so fucking pretty under me, you know that?” he asked, enamored by the way your cheeks hollowed out as you sucked his finger clean. “wish we could have done this earlier.”

he slapped his cock on your cunt teasingly before sliding the swollen head up and down your entrance, eliciting small whines from you. you’d never felt more needy in your life – just the mere feeling of his cock near your pussy drove you nearly insane with want, the desire to be filled up.

without warning, he pushed the head in, grinning at the gasp you emitted.

“fuck!” you breathed, eyebrows furrowed as you felt yourself already having to stretch to accommodate him.

“i’ve barely even done anything,” he responded, his grin growing even cockier. slowly, he pushed further inside you, holding back his own moans as he felt your fleshy walls clench around him. “fuck, you’re fucking tight though, princess.”

it burned for a second before the pain dissipated, and you found yourself craving more. you rolled your hips into his again, needing movement.

“tch,” he said, feeling your hips grind into his. “so needy.”

he pulled out slowly before thrusting into you again, hard and fast, ignoring the mewls and whines that had started to bubble up your throat.

you couldn’t even bring yourself to speak, so preoccupied were you with the sensation of being so, so full that you couldn’t form coherent thoughts.

with each thrust of his hips, your breasts bounced enticingly, causing bakugou to chew the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from showing any sign of vulnerability. but it was too difficult – you were just so pretty, a fucked-out mess underneath him.

the sound of skin slapping skin filled the air, to the point where you were sure that if any of your friends on the floor below listened closely enough, they could figure out what was happening.

“baku-gou, too l-loud,” you gasped, trying to choke out the words despite the pace at which he was going.

“so? they’re just extras, let them hear,” he growled, pounding into you particularly hard for good measure.

you couldn’t hold back your moans any longer, all of them spilling out at once, falling upon his ears like music.

“god- fuck, bakugou,” you panted, your nails leaving angry red marks on his back.

wordlessly, he moved a finger to your clit, rubbing small circles into it, sending jolts of pleasure through you.

your legs spasmed around him, and you wrapped them tightly around his hips, slowing his movements but unable to fully stop them. you were dangerously approaching your orgasm, and you could feel your vision start to glaze over – the only thing you could make out was the image of his eyes, red and shining, staring at you, as if willing you to cum.

your nails dug crescent-shaped marks into his flesh as you approached the edge. “‘m gonna c-cum,” you managed, creasing your forehead in concentration.

he pressed his finger harder into your puffy clit, his strokes becoming longer and more deliberate.

“yeah? then go ahead and cum, princess.”

waves of hot ecstasy rolled over you, pure bliss washing your mind blank of any thoughts. bakugou’s own hips stuttered as you clenched around him, convulsing as you rode out your orgasm.

“christ, y/n, feels so fucking good,” he muttered, letting you ride it out for a bit longer before he flipped you onto your stomach, fisting your hair.

“ah!” you cried out, your walls still fluttering around him despite the pain you felt from your scalp.

he pressed a palm into your lower back, forcing you into a deeper arch as he started to pound into you again, his head lolling back in pleasure.

bakugou couldn’t get enough of the way your ass bounced with each thrust, and he grabbed onto your left hip for support, starting to quicken his pace.

“mmnh–, more, bakugou,” you pleaded, your eyes rolling back as your tongue peeked through your parted lips. you gave up on trying to think – you gave in entirely to him.

“more? fucking slut,” he said, but in truth, your mewls and moans went straight to his dick, forcing him closer and closer to his own threatening climax.

you’d started to back your ass into him, too, matching his pace, and it was nearly too much for him to bear.

“shit,” he hissed. “‘m gonna cum, princess.”

“inside, please–!” you gasped, desperate to feel yourself filled to the brim with his cum.

that was enough for him, and he let go, shooting white hot spurts of cum into you, painting your walls white with his seed.

he cursed, feeling his cock twitch inside of you as it softened, despite the way you continued to clench around him, sucking up all of his cum and refusing to let go.

you whined as he pulled out, the sensation of cool air suddenly surrounding your pussy making you sensitive. bakugou watched, entranced, as trickles of cum oozed out from your entrance before he stuffed some back in with his finger.

gently, he helped you onto your back and flopped to your side, quiet, pensive. you lay catching your breath, but suddenly felt the urge to cover yourself up.

as if he could read your mind, he got up and got dressed, leaving the room.

is that… it? you thought, suddenly apprehensive. you, too, wanted to get dressed, but the trickle of cum making its way down your legs was too uncomfortable.

within seconds, bakugou re-entered the room, a wet rag in hand.

“you’re back?” you asked, wide-eyed.

“what? yeah, i left to get this,” he responded, confused and holding up the rag. “did you think i’d leave you like this?”

“... dunno,” you responded, a little taken aback.

he knelt by the bed, cleaning you up gently and sliding your panties back up your legs.

you’d started to become more clearheaded, despite the alcohol still buzzing throughout your system.

“i didn’t know you wanted this, too,” you said quietly, after a few pauses of silence. briefly, you wondered if you would have had the courage to be so honest if not for the alcohol.

“... i always did,” he responded, averting his gaze and instead shifting his attention to finding your shorts.

your heart beat wildly in your chest as you watched his face, pale with a rosy tint to his cheeks, his handsome features illuminated by the moonlight that peeked through his curtains.

“really?”

“yes, shitty woman,” he grunted, evoking a little giggle from you as he finally seemed back to his usual, grumpy self. “‘cause i fucking like you, y/n. got it?”

he what?

did you hear him correctly? you blinked rapidly, your breath hitching in your throat as he made eye contact with you, his stare intense and piercing.

when you didn’t respond, he looked down, embarrassed.

“you don’t have t–”

“i like you, too,” you responded quickly, hoping that he’d look at you again. “for a while, actually.”

bakugou hesitated before getting up and sitting on the edge of the bed. he reached his hand out, stroking your cheek with the pad of his thumb, leaning in to press a light kiss to your forehead.

“sleep here tonight?”

you smiled, butterflies fluttering about in your stomach.

“of course.”

masterlist | join my taglist!

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creepereyes · 2 years ago

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I can’t believe antis are still spouting the ‘Billy was a violent racist how can you like him?!’ argument.

One vague line doesn’t prove anything, and I guarantee you Billy would’ve reacted the exact same way if it had been Mike, Will or Dustin pestering Max in those scenes.

Even if Dacre himself confirmed that Billy WAS a little racist, people can change. Racism can be unlearned, and I’m going to make a Stranger Things/The Walking Dead comparison post that might give antis an aneurysm.

You don’t have to be familiar with The Walking Dead to understand this post, but I’d say it’s worth a read especially if you like both shows.

This post is going to get long so I’m inserting a read more.

Billy is not an irredeemable monster. He never uses racist slurs and never hate crimes Lucas. Pushing someone against the wall and scolding them is not attempted murder. Lastly, he’s a teenager. It’s not like he’s a dude in his 40′s bullying an 8th grader.

All these Billy antis need to watch The Walking Dead, specifically the first three seasons. Why, you ask? Because that show had a racist character who was on the track to changing his ways and becoming a better person.

In TWD season 1 episode 2 we meet Merle Dixon, older brother of series favorite Daryl Dixon. Merle is a violent, unapologetic racist who, shortly after being introduced, provokes a black man into attacking him so he has an ‘excuse’ to beat him up. He’s a terrible person. (Though early series Daryl is no saint either, he’s quick to violence and is often hostile to other members of the group).

After Merle saws his own hand off to escape a bad situation, he goes missing for over a season. When he comes back, he’s different. He’s still an asshole and while he still drops a racial slur, he doesn’t sling the n-word anymore and shows the odd moment of compassion. As the season progresses, we start to understand why Merle is the way he is and that he has more layers than expected. Much like Billy, he has sides to him that other people rarely see, and that really shines when he interacts with Herschel, the one person who shows him kindness.

As unpredictable as Merle is, he does the right thing in the end. And guess who really gets through to him and convinces him to do the right thing?

Michonne, a black woman.

Just like Billy, Merle sacrifices his own life and dies to protect a group of people who don’t give a shit about him, and is then mourned only by a younger sibling with whom he had a very complicated relationship.

Don’t get me wrong, there’s no justifying or excusing his hateful actions in season 1. We as viewers are supposed to have conflicting feelings about Merle. He starts off as a racist asshole, but he turns out to be more complex than he seems, and if he lived past season 3 I’m confident he could’ve really changed for the better. In my opinion, Merle is a great character because despite his heinous past actions, he’s complex, layered and interesting. His interactions with other characters are fantastic and his actor, Michael Rooker, did a great job giving more depth to a character that could’ve easily been a one-note villain. (Sound familiar?)

My point? Anyone can change. If a 50 year old violent racist can begin changing his ways, so can a teenage boy.

If Billy had survived season 3 and gotten away from his abusive father, he would’ve changed too. It would take time and he’d need support, but it would’ve happened. He could’ve formed healthy relationships. He could’ve teamed up with Steve, Robin, Eddie and Nancy to kick Vecna’s crusty ass.

Antis blatantly refuse to admit it, but Billy would’ve changed and flourished if he got out of his toxic home and had people believe in him.

They just can’t handle a character with layers.

#billy hargrove deserved better #billy antis dni #pro billy hargrove #not tagging twd because I don't want to get swarmed with Merle antis who accuse me of being racist

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thebadgerclan · 4 years ago

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SFW Alphabet: Kaz Brekker

Requested by Anonymous

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

With his fear of touch, it takes Kaz a while to be comfortable with physical affection, but he slowly gets there. It starts slowly, with him holding your hand with his gloves on, putting an arm around your shoulders and waist, then holding your hand without the gloves, kissing your forehead, cheeks, and eventually your lips. After a few months of working through his fear, he’s open to holding you for longer periods of time. Kaz wants so badly to be physically affectionate with you, but with his phobia, it’s slow going, but he does get there

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Kaz doesn’t really do “friends”, more like allies. But to have him as an ally, someone you knew you can rely on, that carries a lot of weight in the Barrell. If you ever find yourself in a tight spot, you know you can call on Kaz for help, and he’ll be there, usually with a few other members of the Dregs

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Like I said in A, physical affection is something that you and Kaz have to work towards. But once he’s comfortable with cuddling, it easily becomes one of his favorite things. He likes to spoon you, his arms around your waist, nose buried in your hair, legs entwined. Kaz also likes it when you lay facing him, your head buried in his chest, his hands rubbing your back. He might not admit it, but on bad days, whether with his leg or his phobia, he loved being the little spoon, letting you hold him close and shut out the outside world

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Kaz does want to settle down, but with the Dregs, it’s not really a possibility. So you settle for sharing a room and spending every night in each other’s arms. But you do talk about what your future will be like when Kaz eventually gets a big payout from a job: a mansion, fancy clothes, a massive diamond ring (that’s Kaz’s addition). He cooks well enough to keep himself alive, but to be honest, he’s not the best

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?) I feel like he’d be really cold and practical about it, but he’d cry when he’s alone. “This isn’t working, Y/N,” he says. “We can’t be together and work together, pick one.” Once he’s alone in his room at the Slat, he breaks down, knowing he just lost the only good thing in his life since Jordie

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Kaz fully intends to marry you, once he has enough money for a proper ceremony, one that meets every single one of the dreams you’ve had since childhood. He gets you a simple ring, a small diamond on a silver band, and asks you to marry him. It’s a simple proposal, but it’s romantic all the same. “Y/N, darling, I love you more than anything else in this world. Marry me, please, my love, make me your husband.” He proposes after 2ish years of dating, well after he’s gotten over his fear of touch (with you at least)

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Kaz has a reputation for being ruthless and violent, but with you, he’s sweet, tender, and unbelievably gentle. Once again, once he’s over his phobia, his touch is always gentle and tender. He never raises his voice at you, he never even thinks about hurting you. You are his treasure, worth more than any amount of money (and when I say “over his phobia”, I mean he’s comfortable with touching you, I know that he has deep seated trauma that will never go away. But, in my opinion, Kaz is able to work through his trauma and work towards being able to touch his girl),

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Again, after working through his phobia, Kaz LOVES hugs. Your arms are a sanctuary, a place where he can ignore the hustle and bustle of Ketterdam, work from the Crow Club and the Dregs, and anything that’s bothering him. He’ll often come up to you and pull you into his arms, chin resting atop your head. His hugs are warm and safe, you know that when you’re in his arms, nothing can hurt you

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

After about 8 months, Kaz is at the point that he’s able to hold your hand without his gloves. You’d been so patient and understanding with him, and he took your hand, risking pressing a kiss to the back of it (something else he’d recently become comfortable with was kissing your cheek and forehead). “Thank you for being so patient with me, Y/N, I love you so much. My girl, I love you.”

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Kaz gets jealous very easily. If anyone gets too close to you, he’s on edge. Even if it’s Jesper, who has little to no interest in any female, Kaz still is jealous. He comes to your side, either taking your hand, putting an arm around your shoulders, or pulling you flush against him (depending on where he’s at in terms of working through his trauma)

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Tentative at first, when kissing is new to him. Light, short pecks on your forehead and cheeks, before progressing to your lips. Then they linger for a few seconds, mainly on your lips, and eventually, he gets to the point where he wants to kiss you every waking second, lips on yours until he nearly passes out. Once he’s really comfortable with kissing, his kisses are passionate, the love he has for you palpable in the inches between you. Kaz likes to kiss you basically everywhere: forehead, cheek, nose, lips, neck, other intimate areas ;D. He likes to be kissed on the cheek, jaw, neck, lips (duh), and his hands. You’re one of very few people who get to see and touch his hands, so having you kiss them makes his heart flutter

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Honestly, he hates them. I mean, remember what he said to that little girl in Crooked Kingdom? He just doesn’t like them, there’s not much room to elaborate on that.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Most mornings, you wake to Kaz’s lips against your temple, his arms around your middle. “Good morning, my love.” He is loath to get out of bed in the mornings and leave your embrace, but he’s got a club to run. Even so, he’ll spend an extra 20 minutes or so just holding you, soaking in your love and presence (This is all after he’s comfortable w/ touch, btw)

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

(Same as above, after Kaz is comfortable w/ touch) Kaz tends to work late, so most nights, you have to drag him to bed. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, kissing his neck. “Come to bed, Kaz. It’s late.” He’ll sigh, moan about how much work he has to do, but he;ll let you herd him into bed

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

A loooooooooong time, both in regards to physical touch and the trauma he’s been through. You know that he’s been through a lot, and you don’t push him, because you know that Kaz will tell you when he’s ready. And sure enough, he does. Slowly, he tells you about Jordie, the plague, how Rollins swindled him, everything about his past. Time is your best friend in a relationship with Kaz

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

In general, fairly fast, but with you, he’s hardly angry. On a job, Kaz can’t afford to be too patient, when he needs something, he needs it now, and he’s not afraid to do whatever he needs to get it. But you’re a different story, with you, Kaz has endless patience. He might snap at you at the start of your relationship, but he always apologizes immediately afterwards. Love is new to him, so he needs you to be patient as well.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?) Kaz has the memory of an elephant, he has to with the jobs he does, So he remembers every single thing you tell him, important or not.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Cliche, but the first time he kissed you. Kaz was finally comfortable enough with that level of intimacy, and he’d removed his gloves, cupped your face in his hands, and kissed you, a long, sweet, lingering kiss. He cried, but they were happy tears.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

You’re dating the Bastard of the Barrell, Kaz is insanely protective of you. Whenever you go somewhere without Kaz, he has a few members of the Dregs trail you, at a distance, just to make sure that if something happens, you’re protected. But if he can, Kaz goes everywhere with you, you on his arm, glaring at anyone who might dare cross you, as if to say “Hands off, she’s mine”

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Kaz leads a busy life, so proper dates don’t happen all that often. But when they do, Kaz goes all out, he books a reservation at the best restaurant in Ketterdam, roses, expensive wine, the works. Other date type things are like a private dinner in his office and simple gifts, like candy and things you’ve mentioned you want

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

It’s not a bad habit, but it’s definitely an obstacle in a relationship: his haphephobia. He can be a little rough around the edges, and he’s pretty resistant to the idea of a relationship until he realizes how hard he’s fallen for you

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Kaz is always dressed and groomed immaculately. A fitted three piece suit, his hair slicked back, fedora, leather gloves, shoes shined to a mirror gleam. He takes pride in his appearance, he came from nothing, and he’s built a little empire for himself, and he’s damn proud of it

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

At first he thinks he wouldn’t, but then there’s a job that goes south, and you get hurt, and I’m talking badly hurt. Life-threateningly bad. Nina patches you up in seconds, but you’re unconscious and weak for a few days. Kaz doesn’t leave your side once, his hand clutching yours. “Please, Y/N,” he begs to your sleeping form. “Please be alright. I can’t live without you. I love you, Y/N, I love you so much. Please, wake up, my love.”

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

On your 9 month anniversary, Kaz got a third tattoo. Above the crow and cup, next to the capital R, now resides your initials

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Kaz cannot be with someone who doesn’t respect his boundaries. If you take his hand without thinking before he’s alright with it, but release it immediately and apologize, he’s shaken but alright. But if you do it and don’t let go or don’t apologize, it’s a massive dealbreaker

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Kaz has trouble sleeping in storms, the rain reminds him of the tide on the Reaper’s Barge. But cuddle him and he’s out like a light

#kaz brekker x reader #shadow and bone fanfiction #kaz brekker x you #shadow and bone reader insert

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likeshipsonthesea · 4 years ago

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I don’t know if you take requests for nurseydex fics... but if you do the song “omg did she call him baby” by Beth McCarthy screams a heartbroken Nursey when Dex has a girlfriend

i like really can’t do genuine heartbreak but i CAN do angst that ends happy, so here’s my best shot :)

Nursey’s got a red Solo cup in one hand and a plastic champagne flute in the other and it’s sometime after three but before five and he is definitely not thinking about her or him or them together when he looks up between one sip and another to see the telltale blue hair reflecting the murky spotlights of the basement.

Nursey squints. He could be making things up--his brain is nice like that-- but he doesn’t think he’s imagining things. She’s got very distinctive hair, Dex’s--girlfriend. It’d been rather disappointing, actually, the blue hair. The whole thing had been easier to deal with when he’d been picturing some light-haired brunette going for an economics degree who smiled like a mom at soccer practice. Someone who Nursey could reasonably dislike on grounds of, like, predictability.

But no, Dex had to bring home a blue-haired physics major with a nose ring and good taste in music and the ability to out-argue Shitty while polishing off Bitty’s pie, i.e. perfect. Even Lardo couldn’t pretend like she wasn’t awesome for Nursey’s sake. Even Nursey can’t pretend like Amanda isn’t awesome for his own sake. She’s just so--so--

Nursey squints.

So-- making out with some random girl in a blouse at a frat party.

What the fuck.

Nursey is about two margaritas and three years too deep to be dealing with the emotional ramifications of catching the girlfriend of his best friend (who he’s also kind of sort of possibly maybe totally in love with) macking on some consultant for Goldman Sachs or some shit in the basement of arguably one of the worst frats at Samwell. This one doesn’t even have good music, Nursey’s only here to get drunk without the possibility of Dex calling Nursey Patrol and helping Nursey up the stairs and saying nothing about the poetry Nursey spills or the way his hands linger.

(Fuck does Nursey hate Nursey Patrol, fuck does he hate how much he loves it.)

Nursey downs the rest of the champagne flute--which was probably mostly orange juice at this point anyway-- and hands the red Solo cup to a freshman gearing himself up to talk to a cute boy a few feet away and then Nursey gets the fuck out of dodge. He manages to get a better look at the corporate recruiter Amanda is cheating on Dex with (and really, if you’re going to cheat on Dex, you’re really going to pick a chick in a blouse that probably has opinions on the stock market???) and if he hadn’t been sure before, the distinctive tattoo on Amanda’s shoulder proves that it’s really her.

(“Tattoos? Tattoos? I have tattoos.” “I know you do, Nurse.” “They’re really nice tattoos.” “I know they are, Nurse.”)

Emerging from the basement and then the frat house itself is instantly sobering. The chill from winter hasn’t quite left the air at night and Nursey wraps his arms around himself and doesn’t think about how Dex chirped him about not wearing a coat before he’d left. The frat isn’t far away from the Haus, thank god, but it is slightly farther when he turns left instead of right and then has to a backtrack a bit, but he still gets back in under ten minutes and he can still feel his hands, so overall, a win.

Attempting to get into the Haus quietly is a lost cause, given its one thousand year old floor and the fact that a ladybug could fart in the kitchen and wake up the guys in the attic. Still, Nursey gives it the good college try, which is why he’s creeping ridiculously through the living room when the light turns on suddenly and he screams, much to the amusement of Dex, standing in the kitchen doorway.

“Fuck, dude, what the fuck.”

Dex just smirks in that horribly attractive way of his. “How was the Psi-U basement?”

Nursey thinks of blue hair, washed out in the lights, Amanda’s hand on that girl’s cheek, the way Dex smiles when he’s around her. “Fine,” Nursey says, swaying.

The amusement falters and Nursey wishes he could figure out a way to keep the smile on Dex’s face the way Amanda does. Dex takes a step closer. “Are you alright?”

Nursey shakes his head violently and takes a step back, a step farther away. This is the part where he says yes, yes of course Dexy-darling, I’m right as rain, what about you? This is the part where Dex rolls his eyes and loops his arm around Nursey’s waist, his warm side pressed into Nursey’s. The part where they go upstairs, where Nursey writes his best poetry that he’s too embarrassed to write down when he’s sober, where Dex tells him to sleep well and lingers outside the doorway long enough for Nursey’s breathing to slow and then the floor creaks and Nursey knows he’s gone and wishes he’d held on just a little bit longer--

“Nursey, what’s wrong?”

Nursey shakes his head again. He means to say nothing, he means to say, I’m going to bed, he means to-- “Amanda, she--”

The concern turns to alarm. Why can’t Nursey ever make it better? “Is she alright? Did you see her? Is she okay?”

Nursey shakes his head again. He can’t seem to stop doing that. “She’s fine, she--she--” He swallows, and it’s sticky, cloying, citrusy and sweet on the back of his tongue. “She--there was this girl, she-- Amanda, she--”

Dex won’t stop frowning, concern knitting his eyebrows together with three short wrinkles, and Nursey has wanted to smooth them out with his fingertips every time he sees them since sophomore year, and he shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t be telling Dex this while he’s drunk, shouldn’t be telling Dex this at all, but he’s Nursey’s friend first and Nursey has to believe he’d tell Dex regardless of the love thing, he must--

“She was kissing some girl. In the Psi-U basement.”

The wrinkles smooth out. The amusement returns. Nursey--he can’t make sense of it over the ringing in his ears. Why is Dex smiling? Did--did Nursey do that?

“Did she look like a lawyer?” he asks, and at Nursey’s confusion clarifies, “The girl Amanda was kissing. Did she look like a lawyer?” Nursey nods dumbly. Dex’s smile only grows. Nursey is so, so confused and also more in love than he’s ever been. “Finally. I just won fifty bucks.”

What the fuck. “What the fuck.”

Dex laughs--laughs. “The girl’s name is Tammy. She graduated last year and moved to Boston. Amanda’s been in love with her forever, and I bet her that she’d get with Tammy before I--” Flush appears high on Dex’s cheeks, the soft pink one that means embarrassment and Nursey imagines would taste like cherry pie against his lips.

Nursey is--still quite a bit drunk. He needs--clarification. “You--you bet your girlfriend that she would get with her friend at a frat party?”

Dex’s nose scrunches up in Nursey’s favorite way--the same way it does when he’s trying to write humanities essays, the reason Nursey always says yes when Dex asks for help. “Girlfriend? Did you think Amanda was my girlfriend?”

Nursey remembers the start, hearing about Amanda every other day, then every day, then it was, sorry I can’t come, I’m meeting Amanda at-- and then one day at Annie’s, a girl with blue hair and a sharp grin yelled Babe! from across the room and planted a kiss on Dex’s cheek, her hand lingering on his shoulder, sipping from his coffee cup, getting him to smile like that--

“Well, yeah.” Nursey’s head is spinning and, for the first time tonight, not from the gin. “Is she--is she not?”

“Oh God, no, she’s so fucking gay, dude.” Laughter twinkles in Dex’s eyes. Nursey is drunker than he’s been since freshmen year of high school when Shitty snuck in some of his dad’s hard liquor and the janitors found them on the roof singing Disney songs at the moon. Dex’s girlfriend is gay. Dex’s girlfriend isn’t his girlfriend. Dex is--is smiling at him like he smiles at his girlfriend who isn’t his girlfriend.

“Oh,” Nursey says, dazed, “chill.”

“Oh wow,” Dex grins, leaning into the doorframe, “I can’t believe you thought--and you thought telling me my girlfriend was cheating on me at 3am while shit-drunk was a good idea?”

Nursey says, “Hey, honesty is important, and I’m not--” He stops. He remembers something. He squints. “Wait. If you bet 50 bucks on Amanda getting with Tammy, who did Amanda bet you would get with?”

The cherry pie blush is back. Nursey takes an absent-minded step forward. The room feels so much lighter now that Dex’s girlfriend isn’t cheating on him. The distance between them feels so much sillier now that Dex doesn’t have a girlfriend.

“Ah, well.” Dex rubs at the back of his neck, all country bumpkin sheepish to ask his sweetheart to the dance, and--and--

“I’m the sweetheart,” Nursey realizes with the kind of crystal clarity only afforded by the most copious amounts of alcohol.

Dex’s eyebrows furrow, those sweet little wrinkles appearing between them, and Nursey takes two long strides forward and presses his thumb into them. Dex goes cross-eyed trying to watch, but moves his eyes to meet Nursey’s after a moment.

Nursey grins, likely a bit sloppy from the gin, but he can’t find it in himself to care at the moment. “I’m the sweetheart,” he repeats, beaming.

Dex tries to repress the smile at his lips. “You’re not a sweetheart.”

“Yes I am,” Nursey sings, listing forwards. “You like me.”

“You’re an asshole.” Dex’s smile grows. Nursey watches its progress and sways.

“They’re not mutually exclusive,” he says, tracking the pink lips as they spread, revealing teeth and--and tongue and--

“I hate that you can still say mutually exclusive when you’re this drunk.”

“I’m not that drunk.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm. See, I’ll prove it.”

“How do you plan on--”

If Dex’s mouth weren’t so preoccupied, he might say that the taste on Nursey’s tongue is a good indication that he is in fact fairly tipsy, but as it is--well. He’s got other things to do.

(Amanda asserts that they tied since it happened on the same night and only pays $25. Tammy throws in five more and a condom and they call it even. Nursey kisses away Dex’s protest and pockets the condom, much to Amanda’s amusement. Turns out, she’s even cooler when she isn’t dating the love of Nursey’s life.)

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