#on top of being very young because double the aging does not change only having 13 or less years to be alive
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For the record I do not like Crosshair as a Villain I like him as someone who was immensely fucked up by incredible amounts of trauma and is reacting badly to it and in Star Wars that means you get to commit little a murder. As a treat.
Seriously though I do not think all of his actions are justified or Morally Correct but I do think that they're understandable from his perspective and that his perspective is incredibly warped at this point and that this cycle was kicked off by something entirely outside of his control. It's up to him to pull out of that cycle and no one can do it for him, but he did not start it and he is not the main driver of it. I have zero interest in seeing him Punished as a Villain or treated like he's evil.
Anyway:
#star wars#the bad batch#the bad batch spoilers#this blog supports Crosshair rights and Crosshair wrongs#this extends to all clones btw they're all victims of a horrific system#shockingly this means they don't all come out the other side squeaky clean noble and nice#its not a denial of their agency its a recognition of the fact that they're all completely traumatized#on top of being very young because double the aging does not change only having 13 or less years to be alive#and having literally every second of it be dedicated to war#anyway the murder was very bad but also if he didn't do it Cody would probably not have walked out of that room so he made a decision#and like Cody said he has to live with it now. and we'll see where that takes him.#i am also a villain fucker btw i just don't think he's a villain
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I feel like people have read into Alicent's response to Rhaenyra's ultimatum in both good AND bad faith ways, but i feel like I haven't seen much of what Rhaenyra was feeling about it!!
Personally, I feel like the ultimatum she gave Alicent was the product of 3 different motivations- first, it was the obvious political move to kill the usurper to her throne, duh. The second, is that I think Rhaenyra is super aware- and terrified of- being trapped in a cycle of loss, being passed over for a son, and her claim to the throne standing only because of what she represents not her as a person. Thats its own whole fascinating character essay i cant get into here lol.
But the third reason is that I THINK she has a desperate personal obsession with being chosen by Alicent over Aegon, and leans into the ultimatum as a way to extract what she needs from Alicent-- to be chosen and prioritized over her father's son, and be the centre of Alicent's attention (romantic or not).
The directors/writers have mentioned one of the crucial aspects of Rhaenyra and Alicent's relationship is how many times Rhaenyra reaches out, only to be rejected by Alicent over and over. I think Rhaenyra, as someone who really internalized going after what she wants from a young age, is a bit spoiled, and is obsessed with Alicent's continuous rejection as both a novelty, and a deep source of insecurity.
Rhaenyra has a bit of magical thinking where she really does think that if she just pushes hard enough she can change the world into the shape she wants it to be, and I think when Alicent CONTINUES to deny her, she gets more and more frustrated.
Double this with her general issues around being passed over for a son, first from her father with baelon, and then COMPOUNDED with baby aegon stealing both her father AND alicent's attention as alicent prioritized birthing and probably caring for her son over rhaenyra's sulking when Rhaenyra was in the most pain she had been in yet in her life.
I think Rhaenyra is HIGHLY resentful about not just aegon usurping her throne, but also the lack of attention during the HEIGHT of her teenage years, where she already has a contentious relationship with her father AND .....stepmother?? first love??? sister?? (targaryen family incest issues are a wonderful icing on top of this cake)
It was very clear that the reason Alicent married viserys was SPECIFICALLY to have more children, and that Alicent CHOSE (from Rhaenyra's perspective) to put herself in that position JUST after Aemma died from the same cause, becoming a mother rather than staying with Rhaenyra and daydreaming about riding off into the sunset. In Rhaenyra's mind, she lost her mother to the promise of a son, only to lose Her Alicent™️ to ANOTHER promise of a son right after. This is probably the deepest rejection Alicent could have given her.
The entire second half of season 2 is more denial; Rhaenyra's marriage proposal of their children is rejected, Alicent rejects Rhaenyra's bastard sons in general, and Rhaenyra's choices by extension, then driftmark happens, then the ENTIRE USURPTION happens, rejecting Rhaenyra's claim to her own birthright.
Rhaenyra even tries AGAIN in season 3 - extending herself to go into Alicent's place of comfort to sue for peace, even telling Alicent bits of a personally sacred religious doctrine only to be rejected AGAINNNNNNN.
(I could write forever about how Rhaenyra indulges Alicent's religious but never gets the same back on her own customs)
Yah, I think when Rhaenyra sees Alicent next, its not just that the ultimatum is a political necessity, but its decades of rejection culminating in 'you need to choose and prioritize me over everything, including your son, bc i cannot take anymore rejection from you, and I cant handle NOT being the most important thing in your whole world tbh :)' Especially on the heels of her newfound radicalization i feel like Rhaenyra sees Alicent's 'Choosing Rhaenyra' this time as a Holy Blessing and the last crucial piece she needs to self actualize.
(Also never forget all of this takes place in the targaryen CESSPOOL that is Rhaenyra having Alicent as a sister/step mother/half employee?? Alicent was at least her subordinate at one point/only confidante/possible first love-- theres probably alot of projection on Rhaenyra's part for what Alicent's approval means to her)
sorry this is so long the word rejection has ceased to mean anything to me at this point
"Rhaenyra sees Alicent's 'choosing Rhaenyra' this time as a Holy Blessing and the last crucial piece that she needs to self actualize"
what if we all just set each other on fire
#anonymous#answered#hotd#house of the dragon#rhaenicent#alicent hightower#rhaenyra targaryen#people always talk about alicents obsession with rhaenyra but forget its also true vice versa#rhaenyra literally dressed up like a septa and broke into kings landing#the most dangerous place in the WORLD for her to be at#just to see alicent and try for one last time to reach her just to be rejected again#but even THEN she still loves her and seeks her approval#so her coming to dragon stone finally willing to bend a little after YEARS of rejection is probably like ecstasy on crack for rhaenyra#and unintentionally seals her fate into her own path of destruction#because shes finally self actualized and fully believes in her own conquest now#because her wife gave her the Final Blessing
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Seraphim Eye Practice + Headcanons
(I made these well before the official episode came out so these are older designs)
These are the eyes that I have finished and I’m proud to share with the world. I have given the seraphim names and some head canons to go with them. I also aged up all of the seraphim outside of S-Snake because I love how baby she is.
S-Hawk is actually one of two. I don’t know how I got it into my head, but I liked the idea of Mihawk having twin seraphim. They came about like regular twins, but if they were tube babies.
They are both called S-Hawk and they were separated when they were very young. Both are overprotective of each other because of being separated. The one you see at the very top is Crowley and the one at the very bottom is Montoya. Inigo Montoya and Crowly. Both of the twins eyes were replaced with robotic ones. They can even change color! Blue for Docile, Yellow for Alert, and Red/Pink for Danger. There is also Green, but none of the Punks know why they turn green since they rarely flash green. 👀
Crowley has the cloned devil fruit; but Montoya, on the other hand, ate an actual devil fruit. I call it the Fuse-Fuse fruit! It is a paramecia type that can fuse two or more things together. Both organic and inorganic materials can be fused. He typically fuses with S-Gecko. Montoya and S-Gecko were placed together while Crowly was placed with S-Crocodile and S-Catapiller. Crowley doesn’t use a sword, instead he uses a guitar that doubles as both a gun and a battle ax. It is the turducken of weapons. I kept their eyes similar to their original design (manga) since that’s what I stared with. Not much to talk about. But both of their wings are like that of a crow and not a hawk. The Punks don’t have a lot of knowledge on bird wings apparently 🤷 Crowley has tons of piercings I just didn’t add/you can’t see any of them. He is very much punk rock vs. Montoya who is very elegant vintage.
I’ve been calling S-Crocodile Dharma. Dharma Al Dini. I had a different name that started with a D for Dharma but I forgot to write it down so I had to change it. After watching a play through of Venba, I got the idea of Crocodile being able to speak Tamil and eating Indian food and that’s how Dharma came to be. Dharma knows how to speak Tamil and how to cook. I also gave him an Italian last name because of the whole mafia theme Crocodile’s got going on.
I had an outline of S-Crocodile way before it was revealed and what I have written down is so far off from the original that when I look at the seraphim I’m like, “Why are you so different?” And then I remember that when I first met these characters we only knew S-Hawk, Snake, Shark, and Bear and we didn’t even know if they were conscious. Dharma is very soft spoken and is very muted compared to Crocodile. Crocodile exudes confidence and superiority. Dharma is a very gentle presence and, while confident, lacks the same authority and charisma his prime does. (I’m calling the OGs Primes so I don’t have to constantly write out their names).
I made his eyes a star bursts with light coming out of them. Kinda like a start shooting light. I changed his eyes to be more of a warm honey color than Crocodile’s harsh gold (before Toei decided to change Crocodile’s eye color for no reason). I really wanted to show the difference in their personality in an obvious way. I also gave him makeup around his eyes because I thought his face looked to bare and it became a theme for nearly all the seraphim. I made Dharma’s wings that of a sparrow’s due to that one cover story, also his wings are closer to his hips than his shoulders. His aesthetic is a casual glam. He look effortless and like an average guy, but also extremely expensive.
S-Snake is a very curious child. She is very sweet, adventurous, self-assured, and bossy. She is trusting to a fault that her older brothers are over protective of her. I have named her Yumi. Yumi Stone. She and the others discovered that her devil fruit doesn’t require that they actually look at her, in fact, you don’t even need to see her for her devil fruit to work. The only qualification is that there is love. She can petrify the other seraphim because they love her and each other. She has used her powers on couples and parents to try and test how far her powers can go. Her powers also have some healing properties to it. She is interning under S-Gecko to become a doctor (This is due to trauma which I will get to maybe never).
Okay, to start off, I love how cute I made her!!!! Look at her, look at my baby! She is the definition of adorable. Her eyes were the most fun and, shockingly, the easiest to come up with because I had the idea of making each of the seraphim have unique eyes (by the time I hit S-Flamingo I had officially run out of ideas and just said fuck it close enough). I made her eyes a light purple because I thought it would break up all the warm colored eyes I was doing. I added the rings and the mini-stars because I loved the idea of her having like a sorta planetary eye. I nearly did the rings for Dharma and S-Gecko, but I scrapped the idea because it was not working. I gave her some small eye liner because all of the others had some form of make up. I didn’t want it to be to extreme and wanted to keep it simple for her and it ended up in her eyes looking more owlish and it’s just—mwuah!❤️ Not on purpose but I fell in love with it. That small little thing has also made me head canon that her wings are like an owls. Her eyes are easily my favorite over all. Yumi doesn’t have any specific aesthetics, she just wears whatever she thinks is cute or what her brothers pick out for her. She can really be any of the boys aesthetics when she wants to be. Like one day she can have a biker jacket on and the next she’s wearing a gardener outfit.
Next Batch! And I won’t be starting with S-Caterpillar, I’m saving him for last 😉
S-Gecko’s name is Frankenstein. At this point you can already tell the second theme that I picked out for the seraphim is that they are all of their names are based off of different fictional characters because I like to think that they choose their names from their favorite characters!
Frankenstein was also the first one to be created. We literally do not know how long he was a warlord for, but we do know that he lost a shit ton of blood to Kaido way back when! I like to believe that Gecko Moria was the entire reason the seraphim program exists because waaaaayy too many people forget that in his prime he was an actual candidate for becoming an emperor/the pirate king.
Frankenstein (just Frank or Stein depending on whose talking to him) is very similar, yet extremely different from his prime. • Similarities include : both work with the dead, are tacticians, and are very heavy sleepers. Stein is a workaholic and the other seraphim rarely, if ever, see him since he mainly stays in his room. He is very abrasive and is regularly seen wearing a scowl, but he also has a wicked sense of humor that you don’t get to hear often and is even funnier because you don’t expect it. He is an actual certified doctor which is important to know because he is the other seraphim’s primary doctor, but his day job is to work as a mortician. Despite his job as a mortician, he’s very delicate with the bodies. He has never attempted to raise the dead like his prime. He has never held any shame or disgust towards a body. He will do small things that seem illogical to some, but he was always superstitious type. He will sing lullabies to dead and gently push hair out of their faces. He will recount his day like he was talking to an old friend or a patient. Stein is a religious person in a loose sense. He won’t pray to any god and swears like a sailor but he won’t go out of his way to actively piss off a spirit. Stein is Montya’s best friend. In my head their relationship changed from two people that knew each other in passing to closer than anything. Montya developed some pretty serious separation anxiety after he was separated from Crowly. Once he was placed with Stein he just clung onto him and never let go. Stein, despite being very much a loner and not really a people person, let him cling to him. When Montya’s eyes were replaced with robotic ones and were malfunctioning, he used his devil fruit to create a sort of cooling agent to stop them from overheating. They had small little moments like these that built up over the years in captivity that made them inseparable…literally. After Montya ate his devil fruit he was forced to go under a series of experiments to test the limits of his devil fruit. One where they used Stein as a “motivator”. After one world government agent took it too far, in a panic, Montya fused himself and Stein together. It took several weeks to get them to unfuse forcing the WG to drop the experiment altogether. The two of them still fuse from time to time just to feel close. Frankenstein is the only person Montya has ever fused with. Not even Crowley.
Stein’s pupils are actually two different colors! They are two, three way triangles. I originally tried making his eyes like an atoms but I scrapped that idea. His wings are similar to an albatross. He also looks like Moria at his prime. Also I do realize that I gave him eyebrows even though he doesn’t have any, but they looked too good to discard. His aesthetic is yeehaw goth (Mihawk better watch out cause he’s side eyeing your territory). It is polarizing to see him and Montoya together because of how different their personalities are but still are best friends, yet him and Crowly absolutely hate each other with a burning passion and only really tolerate each other when Montoya is around. The second he turns around they are already throwing down and throttling each other into the stratosphere.
S-Flamingo. Better known as Donquixote Sancho. He is the very antithesis of Doflamingo. Not in a “they look exactly the same but we are totally different” but in a “Everything I do, I do to spite you” kinda way. Sancho is a priest and is respectful to literally everyone but the people in power. He lives modestly and refuses to live outside of the bare necessities. He refuses to use Doflamingo’s devil fruit and doesn’t even see it as his own power. He uses a god damn sword that is made out of seastone all the way through just because he doesn’t want to use Doflamingo’s devil fruit. Sancho loathes Doflamingo with such a passion that he takes everything he knows about him and flips it on its head just so he can avoid being reminded that he’s technically his son (brother. Him-Something?). Doflamingo has short hair? He grows his out. Doflamingo has an atrocious, outrageous sense of style? Wears nice, plain clothing. You can see where this is going. The only reason I gave him sunglasses was because I didn’t think he looked like Doffy enough without them. Each of the seraphim are supposed to be recognizable despite not even having the same color palette as their primes so just ignore the sunglasses (now that I’m looking at the photo again I realize that I forgot to give him makeup). His wings are similar to a swans.
Now is the little bastard’s turn. S-Caterpillar.
Or better known by the others as Godbrand Puck.
Now let’s get one this straight about Godbrand. He is almost exactly like Buggy. In fact the world government would consider him their first perfect, and only, total success. He emulates Buggy to a T. He is loud, eccentric, and all around flashy. Normally the world government would consider this to be a flaw that they can just beat out of him if it wasn’t for one very special factor. He is physically incapable of feeling pain. He isn’t just called Godbrand for shits and giggles. He has been branded with both the Slave brand and the Word Government’s symbol multiple times. Not once did he scream out in pain. In fact he stared giggling the first time it happened. He even fell asleep during one of these “sessions”.
Puck is the only one without green blood because when Vegapunk was first experimenting he decided to lace the artificial devil fruit with the DNA to make the seraphim automatically born with the devil fruit. This lead to the interesting discovery that due to the nature of Buggy’s devil fruit and the inherent nature of devil fruits permanently changing a users body, Puck’s pain receptors were completely severed. They tested this theory on several other Buggy clones that ended up in total failures because of the Chop-Chop fruits nature to split apart. Some of them were missing limbs or organs, others simply didn’t form correctly like an arm coming out of the head or the eyes were placed on the neck, sometimes there were an extra set of something like a row teeth or more than one head. Because Vegapunk tampered with re-adding the devil fruit into Buggy’s DNA none of his clones came out right leaving only Puck. The Golden Child. A Miracle. The Best out of a series of total and utter failures left with an extremely desirable trait in the World Government’s eyes. A solider who could continue on without being held back by something as trivial as pain. Of course until you realize that “desirable trait” leaves him with the inability to seek treatment. Biting his own fingers off. Swallowing his teeth and chewing on his own tongue till it’s bloodied. Ripping out stitches and IVs. Walking on a infected leg that has completely rotted bellow the knee. After that Vegapunk vowed to never clone another the same way he did Puck. Both too risky and high rate of failure. Even if the clone does survive, their could be some unforeseen complications down the line. With him being unable to feel pain, he feels no fear. Remember when I said he was almost exactly like Buggy? What is Buggy’s most notable traits? He is a complete and utter coward terrified of pain and will do almost anything to avoid it. But Puck? With him unable to feel pain, he feels no reason to fear anything. Why feel fear a fate worse than death when that “fate worse than death” is just feeling pain? That little chip the WG and Vegapunks invented to make them unable to feel anything or disobey orders? That is merely a controlled shock that will make them feel excruciating pain. So with that in mind, can you see where this is going? That little desirable trait that they oh so loved in the beginning has bitten them in the ass because this insufferable little shit doesn’t follow orders unless he wants to. Oh sure he won’t be able to “properly” move for a while but can just use his devil fruit to still make it work. What “fate worse than death” can they make him feel? He can’t even experience something so universal to the human experience that he believes himself to be above it all. He’s better than humanity. He is better than the other seraphim because they are all held down by the temporary emotion known as pain. They are below him because they are held back by something so…unnecessary.
Puck is everything the Buggy pretends to be. Puck is confident, powerful, and better than everyone else. He’s basically God. At least in his own eyes. Puck is a raging narcissist, like clinical textbox definition of a narcissist. He like Buggy, but everything is cranked up to an eleven. If crazy was a kind of clock, Buggy would be a single full rotation. Luffy would be like twenty full rotations and then clockwise and then back again on the perfect level of fun crazy and absolute Eldrich abomination. PUCK would be the exact opposite of Luffy landing on the worst amount of self import delusional asshole. He thinks himself a God with the power to back it up. His blood is that of the seraphim, a species that was once considered godlike, and Buggy, an emperor of the sea. He is the nepotism of blood. He is every last one of Buggy’s WORST possible traits. He is a narcissist, psychopathic, asshole. None of the other seraphim like him or understand him. And he doesn’t like or understand them. Worst of all, he is just as much of charismatic genius as his prime.
This brat has the critically thinking skills as Crocodile mixed with Buggy’s chemical expertise and Shank’s level of haki control. On my first post, you can see Puck with four wings. Because Buggy’s devil fruit already allows him to fly, he uses his wings as living armory. He can separate his feathers to create either daggers or swords depending on the situation. He uses his armament haki to make his feathers as strong as steel. Or he can uses his feathers for recon missions (think Hawks from MHA). He can also use his devil fruit for a variety of other situations. He uses it for espionage and undercover missions. He can cut his hair or limbs to appear taller or shorter. He removes his wings, nose, his own dick and Adam’s apple (if the situation calls for it) to go better under cover. He’s also knowledgeable enough about surgery to perform top and bottom surgery to easily switch between male and female when going under cover. He has entire rooms fill of wigs, makeup, clothing, dyes, jewelry, and other accessories specially for him. All his years undercover has made him an excellent actor. He knows what to say to get them to do what he wants. He knows how to persuade someone. No matter how much the others hate him, they have to admit, he is damn good at what he does.
For his design to most important thing to me was clown. I wanted to nail that performer look without making it too much or too bland. Buggy’s makeup is iconic. I’m like 90% sure Buggy has an egg. So I wanted to nail that Star of the Show look without butting into his territory. Of course I gave him Star first to not alone tie in the whole celestial feel, but it was thematic. I originally wanted to add in a moon since he already has a Star and a Sun but it just wouldn’t turn out how I wanted so first thing I asked myself was, “What is some of the most iconic clown makeup?” Then I remembered. TEARS! You can see a small blue tear on his left eye for 1.)Buggy is a bit of a crybaby and 2.)I didn’t want it to distract from the star too much. For the heart and the spade on the top of his forehead, it ties into playing cards. The heart and the spade are from a childhood drawing of mine where I made a monster using the four suits. Diamond and Club for the eyes. Heart on the forehead. And Spade as the nose. I took that idea and simplified it down to make the forehead not look as big. His eyes are easily my second favorite because we have a lot of warm colored eyes so that made him standout a lot more. His eyes are also the only ones that aren’t totally connected. All of the other seraphim’s eyes are very soft in some kind of way, Frankenstein being somewhat of an exception. All of their eyes are rounded in some kind of way. Dharma has a lot of curves to his eyes. The pointed edges of the twins, Yumi, and Sancho has been rounded off. Hell, even Frankenstein’s eyes have rounded lines in them to make appearance softer. Pucks eyes are completely sharp, there are no soft or rounded edges. Even the smaller stars are very straight and stiff. There is no softness in his eyes. There is nothing soft about Puck. His eyes are radioactive green. They are toxic. They are dangerous. They are tempting. He is the prettiest poison you’ve ever seen. His makeup, his nose, his hair and clothing are all attempts to make him appear softer than he really is. And of course, if you’ve seen my drawing of him, his wings are based off of duck wings. 1.) It’s a pun because Duck>Puck. Pretty self explanatory. And 2.) To make him appear weaker than he really is. You don’t look at a duck and think, “Total Murder Monster Hellbent on Making the World Kneel to Him”
Sorry for the long post. This is the longest I’ve ever written on this website so far and I had a lot I wanted to say before we got any new chapters or episodes that totally debunks any of my theories or lore. Maybe I’ll add on to this post by making the seraphim and their primes interacting with each other for the first time. And I hope you enjoyed! You can ask me questions if you want.
#one piece seraphim#one piece#one piece fanart#s snake#s hawk#s-flamingo#s-Gecko#s crocodile#egghead#Seraphim Buggy
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Last question, who are your fav downwolders and why?
Ahh… well it has to be….
The one….
The only….
💫Magnus Bane! 🥂
(Art credit: @cassandrajean )
Queue the music!
Now. Reasons reasons reasons. Where to begin.
I took my time thinking about this question bc there are quite a few downworlders I have an affinity to. But the showdown where it was REALLY hard to pick one or the other was the battle of the warlocks…
Tessa or Magnus.
On the one hand, I love Tessa So much (wrote a piece on why you can find here hehe) and I truly think she is a timeless character (well before she became literally timeless ie. immortal) and her influence throughout the shadowhunter world is iconic, relevant and enduring.
(Art credit: @giannyfili )
However… her choices and inner narrative became a bit clumsy dealt with and a bit inconsistent unlike Magnus’s, as the shadowhunter novels went on. Of course, characters are allowed to change, grow, develop at any age, but her character felt slightly manipulated in the writing? All for the sake of peddling the plot. Not to get TOO into the whole herongraystairs touchy topic but I do think as I’ve grown up and done over a handful of rereads I do spot the slight manipulation that started then, which kind of set a precedence in her character throughout. I adore Jem but he as well was felt a bit clumsily. Topic for another time.
Meanwhile Magnus, while through his own self discoveries and through his own immortalities feels more cleaner in plot. He’s necessary, vibrant, witty and is that character that you ALWAYS look forward to reading. He is That character that just lights up a room and you wait with baited breath on what he’s going to say next. His air of lightness that he brings into every interaction makes you be able to read and listen to him all day long. With long promises made of laughter, sage advice, experience, history and adventure.
“I've got a stele we can use. Who wants to do me?""A regrettable choice of words," muttered Magnus (City of Ashes).
And because of this, when he is being serious, his words strike you when you least expect it and leave you stunned.
“You endure what is unbearable, and you bear it. That is All” (Clockwork Princess).
His bisexuality was handled wonderfully, and was truly one of the first stories I think our generation read where the sexual identity wasn’t about coming out but already at the stage of acceptance and fun loving. He remains respectful and doesn’t want Alec to rush out of the closet but rather does the best thing- inspire Alec to be the best version of himself in life which is finite. That’s the best thing a partner can really do for you.
However he isn’t a Mary Sue bc in every series he stars in the reader sees his vulnerabilities in pure daylight. And also has a plot line that challenges his Yodha immortal dogmas. Will being one weakness of his in TID, Camille and how she mistreated him and being alone in a very sad world. I don’t think these topics were explored nearly as well with Tessa.
“You left me. You made a pet out of me, and then you left me. If love were food, I would have starved on the bones you gave me” (City of Fallen Angels).
And of course, his relationship and development with Alec is my top 3 relationships in all the shadowhunter world. It felt natural, wonderful, sizzling, exciting and steadfast. Didn’t feel too young or naive like I sometimes feel when reading Clace, but new enough to feel like the honeymoon will never end. And I think in part it’s because of Magnus bringing out the best in people, and how Alec chose him. Of all the people Magnus helps out, he actually doesn’t really ask much in return. But for once Alec did a double take on him and let Magnus take the reins of where their relationship will lead them. With great readership payoff 🥹💍
“You could give me the past,“ he said a little sadly. “But Alec is my future” (City of Fallen Angels).
(Art credit: kasirose)
In fact, he has SO much to offer we got standalones, his own mini series with his partner and constant features in further novellas stories. There is no other character in the Shadowhunter chronicles who has been that centre stage as him. And he deserves all of it.
Favourite Swiftie songs that r HIS:
• BEJEWELED
• Begin Again
• Welcome to New York
• You’re in Love
• Karma
• You’re Not Sorry
• Ours
• I Know Places
• You’re on Your Kid
• Castles Crumbling
• The Last Great American Dynasty
• The 1
• Hoax
So yeah the superlative for the best Downworlder has to go to the delightfully and wonderfully written…
Magnus Bane <3
(Art credit: kasirose)
So yeah! I hope the answer makes up for the wait @imabitchforjemcarstairs ILY! And thank you so much for the lovely ask!
P.s. if any artist doesnt want to be affiliated, kindly DM me and I’ll remove your lovely art and mention from the post :))
#bejeweled magnus#magnus bane#shadowhunters essay#TSC#TES#cassandra clare#TDA#TLH#Malec#TID#ask#iamabitchforjemcarstairs
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✨Girbosstember✨Official Commentary— Day 4
Gooooood morning, Girlboss deciders!
Yesterday’s matches finished as anticipated, with the Mayor of Moonlit City advancing in the Love League and Yexiao claiming the Shining League’s next Quarter Finals spot. They’ll be back to continue their quest for the Ultimate Girlboss Crown later on!
But the playoffs are still playing, and we have some exciting matchups for you today! First up in the Love League, it’s Yvette against Peachy! Yvette has perhaps one of the most drastic character arcs throughout the plot of Love Nikki. While we first meet her as the meek and anxious personal Secretary to then-Prime-Minister Nidhogg, after his status as a double agent is revealed, her career is damaged. What’s more, some further meddling from that villain up North gets her framed for treason! But she fights her way back into good standing with the light and used her experiences to take a stand against having Miraland’s society structured exclusively around styling ability, founding the Fair Future College and acting as its principal in the hopes of effecting widespread change so no one else will struggle like she has. Girlboss worthy moves? We will see! For her part, Peachy is also famously the assistant to a villain, but this enthusiastic nurse is not being duped in the slightest. She is not only complicit but often a key supporter of Gray Raven’s shady medical procedures, assisting him in keeping the soul-stealing Sixth Clinic operational as well as participating in other underhanded schemes that he has need of. Why does she do this? Why, to stay forever young, of course, and also for love! She wants Gray Raven to be her boyfriend, which shows how truly fearless she must be. Is this self aware evil nurse the girlboss we seek? You decide! Yvette has established a strong and early lead but nothing is set in stone yet!
Meanwhile in the Shinjng League, we have Zoey against Yisu! Let’s not mince words, Zoey is one of those candidates who has often been pegged as the likely winner of her League. She performed excellently in the prelims, garnering more than a 90% nomination rate. She has been leading her own men from a very young age and has fought her way through the dog eat dog world of North’s militant landscape and come out on top as the leader of her own mercenary band, the Justiciars. Her time management skills must be through the roof however, because she’s not only managing that but also has a side career in the theater, working with the December Troupe to star in a show, as well as making time for some much deserved vacation days. Is Zoey’s take-charge, badass, having-it-all energy what voters are looking for in their girlboss? We will see! Up against her today is Yisu. A nomadic young woman who’s handy with a bow, she wanders Wasteland determined to protect it despite having lost her memories of her past and her identity. She also seems to strike up homoerotic relationships with young ladies in several different tribes such as the Priestess Tess and Priestess Rhoda. In actuality, she is another one of the envoys whose purpose will be to assist Nikki in saving Miraland. Is all of this enough for her to outGirlboss Zoey? We’ll find out! Zoey has an early lead, but the gap is not insurmountable for Yisu.
Stay tuned and keep voting!
#Girlbosstember#official commentary#a shame that the two of closest things we have to canon sapphic characters have to fight like this#so early too
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Bluestockings. The school girl phenomenon
Moi je m'appelle Lo-lita, Collégienne aux bas, Bleus de méthylène
This fragment of the lyrics comes from the song by Alizée Moi… Lolita released in 2000 and probably many people from Europe, where it topped the charts, hummed it in its glory days. Apart from the references to Nabokov's novel, the remaining two lines can be translated as Schoolgirl in stockings, Methylene blue. So what is the deal with these blue socks and what does it have to do with young seductresses?
Queen of the Blues
Contrary to appearances, the blue stockings do not concern only the students themselves, but also their guest. We need to go back to the 1750s when the Blue Stocking Society was founded. It was a loose organization of privileged women interested in education who gathered to discuss literature, inviting educated men to participate. European fashion of the mid-18th century, in which black stockings were worn with formal wear and blue stockings were worn during the day or more casually, emphasizing the informal nature of club meetings. The most common such reference is to a man, Benjamin Stillingfleet, who reportedly did not wear formal black stockings and yet belonged to the Blue Stockings Society [1].
Thanks to the strong personality of another famous salon owner and writer, Elizabeth Montagu, the so-called Queen of the Blues, the term bluestocking soon came to refer to all literary women. Until the 20th century, there was much criticism of girls acquiring knowledge because, according to the prevailing stereotype, it eliminated them from being a good wife and mother. The opposite of bluestocking and other popular-culture image was the sweet girl graduate who used her education to find and impress her future husband [L. Peril, College Girls. Bluestockings, Sex Kittens, and Coeds, Then and Now, 2006 , pp. 28-31].
Collégienne look
Compared to the 18th century, today skirts have become much shorter, revealing the knees and with them the socks (but not particularly blue) . In the 20th century, along with clothing, the perception of female sexuality also changed. Back then, there was a double view of the image of a school girl: Bluestockings in class, and silk hose and silver slippers in the evening [E. Eldridge, Co-ediquette:��Poise and Popularity for Every Girl, 1936, p. 136]. Although some believed that a student's appearance must correspond to her age: Moreover, the boy who invited Sally to the house party likes her as he remembered her at home and does not want a blase woman who looks thirty-five in her place [E. Post, Etiquette, 1942, p. 339].
Long-lasting erotic symbol
Over time in the 1950s, men's magazines discovered the cute and innocent college girl. And they began to show her as first in a school uniform, and later as a half-naked object of gazes. It wasn't until the late 1960s that they featured full nudity or even frontal views, and scantily clad female students seemed to be one of the delights of school life.
However, the 1950s are not the starting point for combining eroticism with young, studying girls. Almost from the very beginning, the student was surrounded by a rapidly commercialized aura of eroticism: At the turn of the twentieth century, the college girl was as much an object of public interest as Civil War battlefields or the natural wonders of Yosemite [L. Peril, College Girls..., p. 311].
Now I'm left to ask my favorite question when analyzing any cultural phenomenon, why does it work?
The school uniform, with blue or white stockings, is both a fetish and a symbol of childhood. A female student or even a college girl exudes innocence, but also youth. And as we know, youth itself (even more so when wearing a short skirt) can be an erotic incentive. And maybe that is why the sympathy for such an image is related to the pursuit of maintaining eternal youth, which is the best seller in the consumer world?
#cultural phenomenon#cultural practices#school girl outfit#alizee#Alizée moi lolita#sex kitten#bluestockings#bluestocking#lynn peril#coquette dollete#dollete aesthetic#college girl
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NOW LOADING ...
MIROIR DATABASE ENCRYPTING ...
i : the lovers' mask
a tale called the moon's anguish that has circulated anchorage for the past several decades has prompted some young lovers to exchange masks as a promise of devotion. what design would muse theoretically think fits them?
a lace mask with mini orchards sewn into the design. the lace is pitch black and does not reflect even the brightest light, seemingly only growing more richly dark as it is illuminated, as if consuming the energy of the sun; an endless black hole where nothing can escape its orbit.
some might consider them leading a double life if they knew about ...
honestly, nothing. her identity as a clone fits perfectly into kwon ara’s life, simply due to the nature of the kwon family’s underground business. the original ara learned about weaponry and was taught martial arts at a young age, so it would make sense that she now is able to defend herself and hold her own when it comes to physical fights in the present time.
what would be their own deal breaker in a relationship? would they die for love or kill for money?
... possibly wanting a relationship, in the first place. she’s only been in one serious relationship her entire life, and that ended in flames, so she’s not exactly looking for a repeat. if you do manage to convince her to commit, a deal breaker would be if her presence causes the other person harm.
she would die for love and kill fo’ free :)
they only have enough change for one call at the phonebooth, & someone with glaring red eyes & a spatula is standing across the street. who will they call?
no one. she would probably try to fight it, herself.
ii : the zeigeist of the '90s
in their free time, they enjoy going out and ...
drinking. she works long shifts and doesn’t have much of a social life, so you can probably find her at the local bar being a menace to society on her time off. whenever she has extended free time, she enjoys rock climbing, though only on actual mountains and not at the gym. if she is stressed, she frequents the boxing gym. so in short, more active hobbies!
a fashion fad of the times they adore that their friends would despise is ...
crop tops, platforms (because she’s short), and chokers.
how often do they order delivery from peppy's pizzeria? have they ever seen the walls ooze green slime in the pizzeria or the animatronics move on their own during their time in anchorage?
she doesn’t eat cheese, so has never visited the pizzeria.
iii : the curse of the spider
are there family secrets or so-called curses that haunt them? ones that are known publicly or follow them figuratively?
her family is a black market distributor of weaponry throughout the united states, though it doesn’t particularly haunt her as much as desensitizes her to violence and crime.
which of the seven sins would corrupt their morals?
pride. surgeon’s god complex, anyone? she’s very much used to being the best at everything she attempts, and if she fails on the first try, she’s prone to giving up instead of putting in more effort.
the world remains the same for decades now. is ignorance bliss? or is there the shaky sense something is amiss that can't be ignored?
ara rarely uses technology, save for the medical technology at work. she doesn’t have social media and checks her phone less often than others, so while she has noticed that anchorage is different from the other places she’s lived, she simply thinks it’s what people call a ‘small town charm.’
dreams are often influenced by the subconscious & sometimes distorted. in their deepest, darkest nightmares, how do they view themselves?
it’s not so much how she views herself, but how the ones she cares about view her. refer to this reply.
iv : the crooked frame
what is their death wish? miroirs only: the perfect crime was constructed & someone else took their place. how did they originally die?
to have something/someone to die for. despite being successful on paper, there’s an emptiness that lives within her chest — a gaping black hole where she knows her heart should reside. i think, if she finds purpose within her life, she would be content to die.
i imagine her death would be violent and bloody. to add angst to her death wish, it would be a purposeless death that doesn’t affect anyone — no funeral, no mourners.
muse couldn't be the one behind the tunnel of love outage because when the power went out, they were...
not in anchorage.
what would they consider their calling card (i.e. what symbols, personal mementos, etc. do they perceive as representative of themselves)?
black orchids, distressed leather, surgical gloves.
those with intermediate technical skills have used cracks & vpns to improve the internet connection, but anything post-dating the 1990s is only accessible through the dark web. has muse ever accessed the dark web? have they used it for any nefarious means or to purchase services?
girl doesn’t even know how to use emojis.
#anchortask02#i deleted the image file before i realized i never filled in the temperament part#so pretend u do not see it#⁺ 𝐀𝐑𝐀 › character study.
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Fighting ring au Master post
I’m completely remaking this post, so all the information will be under a readmore cause..... it’s gonna be loooong.
Children are captured at young ages to fight against each other for the adults amusement.
There are four different fighting rings
The School: residing within the Pale city, children are brought there to be tested and see if they gain powers or not, they are thrown against bullies, porcelain husks they never tire, they bombard the children continuously until the child either activates their powers (tap into a monster like form) or die, once the initial power is unlocked the beasts are brought in. This ring is owned by the teacher and is the least threatening of the other rings.
design of it is a simple wooden floor with some broken desks and chairs strewn about, walls are too smooth for children to try and flee so no netting is really necessary, and the teacher watches like a hawk if anyone tries.
Twisted beasts: once regular animals that have been corrupted by the signal towers influence. Some brought in by the scientist who made them even worse, amalgamations with not a single thought in their head, only doing whatever is commanded.
Forest ring: A fighting ring outside of the city, This ring houses those who had tapped into their monster forms or powers, looking somewhat animalistic in appearance, the children fight with powers or claws and teeth. This ring is run by the Hunter
appearance it’s a grassy field with trees and a lake with a river (cameras are put in the more tree heave areas and shows the fights on a big tv above the ring) Wire mesh is above the ring so children can’t climb out
Maw Ring: This ring resides in the maw, Run by the lady, savage children are sent here, powers sometimes normally used and even weapons are used, this ring is also known to have wild and feral children because they are scarcely fed and it leads to some fights ending up with the winner devouring the dead. this ring is run by the lady.
appearance wise, its a stone floor blood splatters on the wall and bones left on the floor, iron bars and chains cover the top of the pit, giving enough view for the audience but not enough space for a child to squeeze through.
The Zoo: (a majority of this ring was collaborated with the wonderful @adventurer-gearld so if there are any questions you are free to ask them or I can help with some input of my own) This ring is unique in it can change depending on what its being used for. This ring houses most of the wild animal children who look or act more animal than human. Most children from the forest or maw end up here when they are too animalistic to keep in their own rings. This ring is run by the zookeeper who finds a use for a child for whichever is needed, the kid can’t fight? make them perform tricks, can’t perform? then they fight. It’s rumored that the zookeeper makes the most money because of this but it can’t be confirmed nor denied.
It isn’t uncommon for the zoo to have some of their children in the same cage/enclosure as sometimes they are duos in performances.
The zoos ring changes, it could be a large foresty place with rivers and lakes, or it can look like a circus with hoops and platforms and all forms or entertainment.
The Tower: The signal towers ring is at the very center of the Pale city, this ring is the most... Interesting as alot of what happens in the ring isn’t necessarily seen on the surface, its in the fighters mind, reality is warped, fighters see their worst fears or worse. This ring is run by the thin man.
Appearance wise, its all completely white, clean, no blemishes, and a large tv screen hovering above the ring.
The hospital: The hospital works like any hospital does, fighters (at least the big moneymakers) are taken there to be treated for their more severe injuries, nomes are seen waddling around with medical tools to help heal these children until they are well enough to fight again.
Sometimes the ring leaders like to mix it up and have “double battles” where two fighters are partnered up and if one loses then the other team loses.
Haven
Haven is a place where children who escaped the fighting ring reside, it’s deep in the forest itself hidden in the trees. Raiders (lead by Phil) sneak into the rings cage areas while leaders aren’t there and staff are asleep, they open cages and lead children out to safety. Rehabilitators (lead by Alex) work with children who were rescued and bring them some type of normalcy to their lives (rehabilitators are therapists in a way, they use different methods of keeping their patient calm be it music, incense or tiring the child out in a tussle, this is for more of the physically strong rehabilitators) Guardians (Lead by Dan) they are protectors of Haven, they’ll assist raiders and lure adults away from haven and break up any fights. there is a mock scuffle ring in the center of it where kids can scuffle to burn energy if they need do (guardians keep watch so fights don’t get too dangerous)
There is another place of interest, The lab: The lab is a place where twisted beasts are brought to be experimented on by the scientist, as well as children, some twisted creatures seen in other rings (mostly the forest) are amalgamations of creatures mashed into one, some say maniacal laughter gets heard in the halls of the lab.
#fighting ring au#little nightmares au#twisted creatures#the bullies#the lady#thin man#the hunter#the teacher#tw:violence#tw:death#tw: cannibalism#these are mentioned mind you#but still#oh my freaking GOD I spent so long writing these out
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Now that you are writing requests, I think it's only fair I send you a few after some of the ones you have sent me 😌 as you've said you were the original anon who requested Laszlo x Sapiosexual partner headcanons from me, I'm curious to see how you would write it. Take it in any direction you want to 😘
Thinking Alike [Dr Laszlo Kreizler x Reader]
Word count: 3k
Warnings: Mention of physical violence, mild stalking, smut (yup, there it is!)
Author’s note: My first smut, something easy breezy to begin with. Laszlo is an awkward mess and I love him.
It was embarrassing for Laszlo at first, to admit a weakness, so bluntly. Such a vile thing to do for a man like him.He tried reasoning through it more and more, lonely men went often to prostitutes, John himself did and with the extraordinary result not be devoured by syphilis or other diseases.He didn’t hurt himself nor others in the process.
The first time he met you it was by accident, he was invited by one of his former patients to visit her at her university, nothing unusual, he remembered her well: Julia, shy, small, bent down and backwards by a family that abused her very being, that abused her mind, development and growth.But to see her now a young woman, studying literature at university, thriving in her life and taking her own choices, she even started an internship with Sara, that was something that made a man like Laszlo proud of his job.
Briefly: that day was a success for him: from the meeting to the lunch they shared, she showed in every given moment how she treasured everything she learned at the Institute and, even though hard times were not over, she felt like she was able to face them.Then Julia asked him to join her to listen to a lecture, assuring he would love it so he obliged as it wouldn’t be too bad to feel like a student again and maybe spark some new interest in him.So he did, he sat down and leaned his back on the seat, the soft scent of the woody desks and chairs taking over his nostrils. He remembered how he was at that age, hungry, unnecessary aggressive and lonely. He smiled to himself at the memory.Poor John, still there to look after him and trying to give him a minimum of social skills.
Then the room fell into silence as you walked inside, your choice of clothing a white shirt and a burgundy skirt, a pocket watch on your side. A simple style, you wish good morning to the class and don’t indulge too much into talk.And there is where the unexpected happened.You open up simply, a picture, a quote. The description of man as William Blake: poet, engraver, prophet.To transcribe your words would be similar to the conflict of any man that ever found himself in the duty of writing, or better, transcribing a sacred text.The way you spoke, the way you held everybody’s attention, the way you moved back and forth or wrote on the chalkboard. The passion surging by your words digging into his flesh and bones, every cell into his body surging into an agonising desire to hear more. The way your words balanced, how you managed to go from interesting facts to more detailed ones, from hard critical informations to conceptual ideas.That was the beginning of something new, his brain wasn’t able to move past the thought of you. Literature wasn’t his field, but he felt like you were the spring of all truths. So it begun. He brought the books, he came to the lessons. He thrived in every stolen moment he got with you, he sulked when somebody caught your attention, even more if it was to make some silly comment or question, he adored the way your hands traced shapes into the air symmetrically, it triggered him to wonder if you ever studied dancing, the pose of your fingers always so balanced. He learned every micro habit you had: the way you always looked at your pocket watch when it was almost half time throughout the lesson, how you changed pin in your hair every day, the way you tucked your reading glasses in your shirt only to then look for those when in need to read. His favourite moments were the ones when everybody was leaving the class and he could see you relax on the chair, gift little smiles around as you collected our belongings. Your presence was by now his safe place, those two hours he spent a the university were the only moments he felt free, even if unseen.
Until the day he was getting into the class to find it empty and you alone there.“Regular students got a card saying the lesson today was cancelled” you said and his heart sunk into his chest “I would be mad to have someone sneaking in my classroom, but I had the feeling to have seen you before”
He gulped down as you were so close by now, he could guess your favourite perfume.You handed him a book, his book with his picture inside followed by his name in cursive letters.
“What does an alienist says about my course?”
“I say, your dialectic is what many of my patients would need in order to survive”You were surprised, eyebrows raising and a slight tilt of the head, you expected to find him guilty and ashamed, surely he was, but that answer was bold.
“And you? Do you find solace in my dialectics?” He took a moment before staring up at you, you didn’t realised how tall he was by seeing him always sat in the back, but you noticed him at every lesson. How couldn’t you?An handsome, elegant grown man hiding among those twenty something, the walking stick giving away always his calculated late entrance in class, his eyes always on you digging holes.
“Constantly”His answer surprised you, you expected to confront him and send him away and now you’re torn between the feeling of cradling him in your arms and, what? “I could forgive you for a lunch” He smiles, his eyes shining “I know the perfect place”
That lunch became one of many lunches.Every time you had lesson he would wait for you and you’d share a meal.To open up to him felt almost too easy, but he was an alienist, that was his job. He also opened up with you, you shared books, and interests and long chats. He wrote you cards and you wrote back to him, he sent you his articles and you sent him yours. He asked for books to introduce children to literature and you visited the Institute helping him in the task in exchange of some entry level books about psychology. Lunches became dinners, long walks became longer, soft smiles became him offering you his arm to walk together. You were starting to develop some tenderness for him, you always wondered what he was thinking and what he would opinion over this or that, you craved to confront your opinions and Laszlo wasn’t feeling any less drawn to it.It was beginning to become difficult when you started to visit him in his dreams, he would dream of you in ways he didn’t dare to speak up about. Only the way you talked when you grew passionate about something gave him a sense of tension, a deep desire going through him as he touched his thigh with his sweaty palm to ground himself. You felt like he was growing distant, unaware of how he was growing somehow closer. Closer to the point he couldn’t resist you anymore, hide behind simple touches of courtesy, to feel your hand only when gloved, stare at every little stand of hair move unruly on your neck while you spoke so highly of any topic. It was unexpected the time, while sharing some impressions on a recent article, he put his hand flat over the page and leaned in capturing your lips in a sudden but awaited kiss. You kissed him back realising how such a simple gesture meant so much to you. Your hand followed up resting on top of his still hiding the page from you. His lips soft, his beard tickling you lightly as your eyes shone.When he pulled back, only because in need to breathe not else, he looked at you but you smiled at him brushing your nose lightly against his making him break into a smile. The happiest smile.
“Do you even realise how foolish is that?”
“Are you calling me a fool?” He growled at you. Yes, he followed a potential murderer across the city, got himself beat up, but he was alive and now he got more informations.
“I dare to say I am, loud and clear Laszlo”He frowned deeply, you calling him a fool?
“Take it back”
“No” “I said” he grunted as he breathed heavily through his nostrils “Take it back” You never saw him this mad but you didn’t oblige his request, he made you sick worry and hid all this madness of crime cases from you through all this time, not even once he mentioned this …what? A hobby? Desire for adrenaline? “A man that doesn’t stand up to his own truths is a fool to me” you said coldly “all this time spent to talk about nonsense and you’re working on solving crimes? Who is the man that I know then? Does he exists only when Dr Kreizler is without a case? There’s even a real interest in what you ever said to me? Or you just needed a distraction?”
“Don’t you dare to contradict me, I am no liar”You smirked, by now he was close, almost threatening even if you know well he wouldn’t ever hurt you. “Then what are you?” He froze, his eyebrows furrowed, what should he tell you? That he loved the way your brain worked? That every time you bounced ideas back and forth he felt aroused? That you provoked in him a thirst for more, more knowledge, more passion, more life. You let out a breathy chuckle as he didn’t answer now, you were sad and disappointed. You indeed believed you had found your match and not another double faced man.You picked your coat and left his office even if your heart was shattering on the inside and begging you not to leave like that.You spent two weeks apart, two weeks in which his spot in the classroom was empty, both of you ate alone, walked alone, lived alone. An emptiness that was so heavy it felt like the sky would break under the weight of it. But he couldn’t think of you, the case was on, the victims were falling one after the other, and yet he couldn’t think clearly. Before just thinking of how you’d think helped him, but what about now? He couldn’t reach for you. You were right, he hid part of himself to you and he couldn’t ask you to risk your life or spend nights and days exploring the dark sides of human nature, even though your sensibilities and introspection would have made you the most valuable asset in any research. He locked himself in his office getting high on tea and pacing the room back and forth talking out loud trying to gain back the process you two formed together, the chemistry, the balance of thoughts. Until your voice reached to him. “What if it is not anger the motif?”You leaned against the doorframe staring at him, you gave up your anger. You were there for him. He stared at you like he wondered if you’re even real. “How did you come in?” “I said I was from Miss Howard” “So you can also lie” You chuckled “Only for a good purpose” You moved inside closing the door behind you as you took off your coat and hat, you moved closer to him offering him your hand, palm up.He stared at your eyes, there wasn’t much to add.He put the eraser in your hand as you cancelled the chalkboard from all his previous work. What happened next was pure magic, clarity spreading through the space, every fact double checked by the two of you as now the facts spread in order, clear, in a linear way, nothing was left to causality.You two closing each other’s sentences, you handing him books and him handing others back to you, papers, scattered pencils.Even you wearing his glasses by accident and handing those back as you reached for your own.It was a frenzy, a dance, a song. “So if this is a scheme…” you begin “…the killer will strike again on Friday” he concludes. You stare at him, a big smile creeps over your lips wide, you can save a life, it is only Monday now.He leans in holding onto your hadn’t with his left hand, but you’re just mimicking him as your lips collide. “How can you be like this? How can you be so perfect?” He groans against your lips not able to part from yours but to praise you. “We are” you correct him “we are perfect, together” he nodded slowly as you were completely right. He let you pull him on the sofa where he slept so many nights when he was too tired to go back home, a very cold and empty home. He took his time, he stood in front of you undoing those clothes he so carefully studied during your lessons almost to the point to know each item of your wardrobe. As you undressed him you realised how you never minded his arm or to help him undo his shirt, you found it poetic, you always found beauty in him, you saw it like a punishment due to something more special given to him.The poet Homer had to be blind in order to sing the war of Troy, Laszlo had to lose an arm to be able to see through others. So there you were, completely deprived of your clothing as he still conserved his bottom half, staring at each other’s eyes before he leaned his forehead against yours, shifting angle then to meet your lips with his. “Don’t, I waited enough” you whispered to him as his left hand between your legs to caress your folds with his fingers triggering a shiver down your spine. “I am the doctor here” he murmured as his fingers moved so smoothly over your slit gathering some wetness and spreading it together before pushing a finger inside you.
“I also am” you whispered back, voice shaking, even if a doctorate in literature doesn’t give you much of a position in this moment while standing helpless with him fingering you so nicely. “I know, it makes you even more beautiful” he assures to you digging his head in the crook of your neck nipping and sucking over your skin slowly adding another finger.You whined not able to move away from his fingers teasing your insides, and yet not what you were looking for. You pared your lips in a silent moan as he shook your hips making you grind slowly following his touch “I don’t want to play Laszlo” you begged “we have all the time to fool around, I missed you too much” “You can’t always use your words to boss me around like this” He smirked as he pulled his fingers slowly out of you, too slowly for your taste, he did it like you had all the time in this word, his fingers brushing over you inside, slowly slipping out covered in your wetness only to trace your clit with their tips.
He pulled back sitting down on the couch like a king on his throne, parted legs and back slightly slouched, while staring at your naked form in front of him moving his left hand to undo his pants as you approached. “You’re a vision”His whisper slowly pulling you in when you straddled him once his erection sprung free slowly guiding him to brush against your entrance. You looked up at him gulping softly before lowering yourself onto him. You stared at him as his eyes fluttered closer and you shook your hips a little trying to reach for the most comfortable position, he was thick stretching you deliciously and that little hint of pain only making it feel more complete, more needed, meant to be. A moan leaving your lips as you gasped for air, his weak right hand moving to rest on your thigh.You observed him as the desire was clouding your usual reasonable and efficient brain, his left hand grasping your hips when you begun moving on top of him. The pace erratic at first before the instinct kicked in, no more witty remarks needed here, you couldn’t make up your mind now.He groaned, his soft gasps and growls being the best sounds along with your moans, two reasonable intellectuals now lost into the simplest and most natural of the acts.Your hips yanked and lost control for a moment as his hand moved to touch your clit “So sensitive” he cooed, you were a mess of feelings, his head bowing down over your chest grasping your nipple between his lips. He teased and sucked, making all his fantasies real, finally touching and feeling you, your shivers due to him, your pleasure and pain completely in his hands.You gasped as he sucked too hard, he seemed to know you more than he knew himself and maybe it was true. He spent so much time watching you, studying you, indulging in every little reaction you had. His eyes dropped down between your joined bodies, he was mesmerised by the shapes your hips were tracing, just enjoying the view of himself sinking inside you filling you up completely, your wetness so evident making the whole process terrifically easy.
“You’re close” he sentenced “you’re so close” If you weren’t close you’d be after he said you were, like he decided it.His left hand leaving your clit as he wrapped his arm around your waist pulling you down over him. Now it was up to him as your mobility was restricted, he begun moving his hips up holding you down, he kept going so hard slamming inside you as he held you still with just that arm, the pleasure that his ruthless moves caused to you doing the rest. You couldn’t hold back any more, your moans getting lost into throaty sounds as your orgasm washed over you.
But he wasn’t done, he kept going as you rode down your orgasm until he tugged you down one last time filling your body, a little yelp of pleasure leaving your lips as you got so full of him and your eyes fluttered lightly because of such a raw basic feeling, that fullness that was proper of a basic instinct you felt rooted into you. If you were reasonable and aware you’d be worrying about things like consequences and having to talk about the future. But you weren’t any close to it.You rested against him gathering air back in your lungs as he moved his hand on your lower back slowly moving it up and down, his right hand’s thumb brushing over that same thigh in the smaller and sweetest gesture of attention. You shifted slightly after few moments to look at him slowly touching over his cheek with your fingertips. “Truth for the wise, beauty for the heart” He said, paraphrasing Friedrich Von Schiller, an author you used a lot in your lectures. “Truth for the wise, beauty for the heart” you repeated. That little motto became your code, the way you reminded each other the duality you were blessed with: your bright minds and your unfiltered passion. And you’d use it from time to time. You’d write it to each other’s notes. It was your “I love you” before the love word was even pronounced.
Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief @thesunflowersutra Let me know if you want to get added <3
#dr laszlo kreizler#dr laszlo kreizler x you#dr kreizler x reader#laszlo kriezler x reader#laszlo kreizler fanfic#laszlo kreizler x y/n#laszlo kreizler fanfiction#laszlo kreizler x you#laszlo kreizler x reader
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Insatiable ( Jungkook x Oc ) Chapter 4
Pairing : Jeon Jungkook x OC
Rating 18+
Genre : Vampire Au!!!! , DILF! Jungkook ! Bodyguard AU! Babysitter OC! Age difference!!!
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3
Chapter 4
“Dearest, I am appalled. “ My father said apologetically. “ Jungkook told me what happened at the dinner and I’m beginning to rethink this whole idea. These pups need to be on a leash , if they cannot control themselves to this extent.”
I was curled up on the couch next to my dad, his fingers gently stroking my hair while he stared at the screen in front of us. It carried all the accounts of the mansion for the week and the numbers made my head swim . So I ignored it, eating the freshly baked macarons that cook had sent up from the kitchen.
My father occasionally consulted from a bunch of files spread out on the table in front of him and I shuddered again when I thought about Mingyu.
“He was an awful choice father. I should have just told you to set things up with Yugyeom.” I grimaced.
My father nodded at once.
“Of course dearest, I’ll talk to him myself and see if he’s free this weekend. Will that work for you?”
“thank you father.” I said brightly, curling up next to him.
For a few minutes, we both stayed quiet, him humming as he leafed through the files, me munching on a few ripe tangerine pieces.
“What do you think of Jungkook?” My father said suddenly, making me cough.
I swallowed, throat dry.
My father felt me stiffen against him and he chuckled.
“Don’t panic, love. I am way too old not to recognize heartache when I see it. Especially in my own daughter. Your display at the breakfast table yesterday was quite unlike you and I realized, it’s not just a silly infatuation anymore, is it ? ” He rubbed the back of his fingers on my cheek, soothing and gentle.
I didn’t reply.
“I think he’s a good...man.” I finished.
“Ahhh...” My father chuckled. “ Man. Here I am , trying to foist you off on boys who’ve barely popped their fangs for the first time .... when it is obvious that what you need is someone reliable and in control. Therein lies the appeal, does it not, dearest? ”
I flushed red, scrambling to sit up , and clutching the fabric of my skirt in a death grip.
“It’s... it’s stupid. I’ll get over it.” I choked out.
My father hummed.
“Have you told him how you feel?” He asked gently and I stared at him.
“You’re not mad.?” I whispered.
My father chuckled.
“Why would I be mad? I’ve known him for five whole centuries. He’s a fine, upstanding man. Jungkook is fair and strong. He is more than capable of taking care of you and the best part, you would be able to live here forever. I would be lucky to have him as my son in law.” He said firmly.
I felt my body go lax in disbelief.
“Somi .. Somi said...That you wouldn’t approve. Because he isn’t from a strong clan. ”
“Somi worries too much about what the others in our clan may say. Especially your uncle. He’s coming back soon remember? “ My father grimaced.
I felt a shiver run through me.
“Uncle Jaebum? He’s coming back?” I whispered, terrified.
My father hummed, kissing the side of my head.
“Yes he is, love. But don’t worry. I’ll handle him. Your uncle still believes that lineage plays some role in how a vampire turns out but couldn’t be more wrong. i mean , young Mr. Mingyu has single handedly proven that theory wrong , hasn’t he?” My father shook his head, laughing, “ So tell me, has Jungkook agreed to court you?”
I groaned.
“He has categorically stated that he doesn’t want to court me.” I said softly.
My father laughed at that.
“That must’ve been a novel experience for you.”
I pouted.
“Father!” I whined.
“Alright, alright ...dearest. I won’t tease. Did he say why? ” He pressed a kiss to the top of my head.
“Because I’m too young? Possibly.... He said something about carrying too much baggage and not wanting to ruin my life.”
My father made a noise of impatience.
“The boy is an overthinker. He’s always been that way. He doesn’t look that way but he cares deeply about hurting others. It’s possible he’s only trying to protect you. Albeit in a very misguided way. “
“ Perhaps. But, whatever the reason, he’s not willing to court me. So, no. i don’t think he wants to be your son in law. I wish I could change his mind. ” I muttered, snuggling closer into him.
“Ah, you know I can’t change his mind for you, don’t you flower? That’s your job...”
I sighed.
“I know...”
“If Jungkook does choose to court you. You will have my blessing. I will give you a wedding that will make the world watch in awe. “ He said firmly.
i laughed.
“Really? You made Somi marry Jimin in the barn on the estate.” I grinned.
“Well, Don’t tell your brothers and sisters but you are my favorite after all. “ He whispered conspiratorially and I grinned.
It was funny because I knew he wasn’t even lying.
After my mother had left the clan, my father had taken on the role with enthusiasm. Unlike the head of clans all over the world, my father was approachable , friendly and deeply involved in his children’s lives. And he had always adored me.
“And even if Jungkook doesn’t realize how amazing you are, remember that there are plenty of good men out there. I want you to be happy, dearest. I will not settle for anything less than your complete happiness. “ My father said fiercely and I hugged him closer.
I loved this man too damn much.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“ You’re so good at what you do, Sera .” Lee Minhyuk gave me a seductive smile as he watched me wrestle his one year old daughter into her booties with one hand while i kept the other wrapped around her to stop her from toppling backwards on the small seat.
How about you stop flirting and help me dress your daughter , you asshole, I thought angrily, grunting from the effort of crouching for long periods of time.
When the fluffy blue fur boots were finally on, I gave little Cherin’s squishy thighs a soft squeeze, pressing a kiss to her perfect cheeks.
“Good bye cherry berry...” I sang softly, waving gently as she hugged her father’s legs before being scooped up into his arms.
“So, are you free this friday? We could get something to eat?” Minhyuk gave me a wink.
His wife was out of town.
I offered a polite smile in return.
“I’m going to have to pass on that. I don’t date parents, Minhyuk ssi.” I bowed my head lightly.
Minhyuk looked annoyed but his gaze flitted to the 6′3″ man behind me, and he didn’t push the subject, merely bowing before leaving.
Behind me Jungkook cleared his throat.
I turned and he gave me a slow, lazy smirk.
“You don’t date parents? Does that mean we’re not on for tonight anymore?” His eyes danced with mirth, mischief glinting in the black orbs.
I flushed red.
“Stop it, “ i hissed peering over his shoulder to make sure none of the other workers in the daycare had heard him.
Jungkook smiled a little at the panic in my face.
“But then , it isn’t really a date is it? You only want my body.” He sighed deeply in faux disappointment.
I gave him an impish smile.
“It is the best thing you have on offer....” I shrugged.
He laughed.
“Fair enough. Did you tell your dad about Mingyu? ” He asked as the workers began to leave one by one. Joowon had left with some of the other kids earlier, Jimin and Somi having promised to take the kids in the clan out for icecream.
I picked up the stray blocks, dropping them into the huge laundry basket repurposed as a toy bag. i got on my hands and knees to peer under the huge wooden dresser in the corner, looking for stray blocks or toys and picking a few.
My back screamed in protest and i wondered if I was going to spend the rest of eternity with an achy back. I was just too young to be feeling this old.
Was Park Jimin onto something with the whole yoga and stretching and exercise and healthy eating ? Should I stop binge eating french fries and possibly start eating salads?
I sighed, straightening up and twisting my torso a bit only to find Jungkook with his gaze leveled very obviously on my ass.
So much so he didn’t even notice I was looking at him.
I cleared my throat and his gaze left my butt, meeting mine with an absolutely unrepentant look on his face.
“What?” He shrugged. “ I’m just seeing what I’m going to be working with tonight .”
I felt my face flame, hating the way an absolutely ridiculous smile was threatening to make its way onto my face. I turned away quickly, crawling on all fours to the next dresser and peering under it too.
once all the toys were put away and I’d double checked the to do list on the board , We finally closed the day care down for the night. It was just little past six and I stood by the door, watching while he carefully checked all the side gates and the backyard.
Slipping the key into my backpack , I began the walk back to the mansion and he fell into step next to me.
“You didn’t answer my question....” He said softly and I blinked.
“Oh?” I couldn’t remember.
“ Did you tell your father what happened with Mingyu?”
“Did you?” I retorted. and he shrugged.
“I had to give a complete play by play report. Your father was incredibly upset.”
I chuckled.
“He’s very protective of me..” I shrugged.
Jungkook went tellingly quiet.
I felt foreboding rise inside me. Jungkook inhaled sharply, obviously staring to say something but i cut him off quickly.
“He likes you!!” I blurted out quickly. “ I mean..he approves of you... Told me he wouldn’t mind you being his son in law.”
My lack of filter was going to get me killed one of these days.
Jungkook however seemed more amused than annoyed.
“Well, considering the kind of candidates in the race, I can see why he would prefer me. “ He laughed.
I frowned. There was something smug in his tone that irked me. He shouldn’t get to be smug about something like that when he didn’t even want to be with me in the first place.
“They’re not all clowns. Yugyeom is a great guy.” I said sharply.
Jungkook’s eyebrow shot up.
“Is it so?”
I nodded, honest.
“He’s older... almost two centuries old now and he’s a good friend.”
“Two centuries? How on earth did he become your friend?”
“He was one of my tutors during college. So I kind of had a crush on him.... It was all exciting .... You know, teacher and student .....forbidden love and all that “ I smiled.
Jungkook gave me a cheeky smile.
“Ahh...ever sucked his dick off under the desk? Or dreamed of it at least? ” He asked casually and I choked.
“ What? “��
“Why do you look so shocked? isn’t that the most common of fantasies?“
I glared at him .
“No... I did not. That’s indecent.”
He stopped walking.
I walked a few steps ahead and paused, turning to stare at him.
“What?” I demanded.
“Sera , what the actual fuck do you think we’re going to be doing tonight?” He asked thoughtfully.
I spluttered .
“I... Its different. I was too young back then. Of course I know what you’re going to do tonight.” I said impatiently, turning around to keep going.
But his hand shot out, gripping my arm and pulling me to him. I crashed into his chest, gripping the fabric to steady myself.
“For someone who was so eager to have me show her the ‘ ropes’ , you’re quite intent on running from me, anytime i bring it up.” He whispered.
i stared resolutely at his chest, refusing to meet his eyes. It wasn’t that I was shy per se. But just looking at his face made me lose my braincells.
“I’m not running away. I just....” Don’t want to read too much into your flirting. Your teasing. Your interest in me. I have to keep my heart safe and I can’t do that with you offering me all of your attention....
“Don’t be nervous, alright? I’ll take good care of you.” He smiled softly.
God, I hated this man.
I could feel heat pool in my belly, spreading all over my body and the urge to throw myself into his arms was so overwhelming.
“I know you will. “ I said softly, finally looking up at him, pressing my palm to his face. “ You’re a good man. A kind man. I knew the minute I saw you that you’d take good care of me. ”
The words seemed to affect him and he bit his lips, grabbing my wrist and pulling my hand away from his face.
“We should go.” He said shortly, pushing away from me and walking away briskly.
“Who’s the one running now, Jeon Jungkook?!!!” I yelled after him and he flipped me off without turning around.
Laughing, I ran to catch up with him again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
At 10.55 , I stood outside Jungkook’s room, nervous but eager.
It wasn’t even the prospect of sex, I thought giddily. Just the idea of spending time with him, of listening to him talk, of having him at touching distance .....it was so intoxicating.
I knocked lightly.
Jungkook opened the door , a smile on his face and it was jarring, how young he looked like this.
He was clearly fresh out of the shower. Hair wet and and still dripping a little, he was dressed in a grey hoodie, the sleeves rolled up to show his veiny forearms and grey sweatpants, hands tucked into his pockets as he shook his hair out of his eyes.
It was a futile action and all it really did was send water droplets flying all around.
I blinked against the unexpected spray, water clinging to my lashes and my cheeks.
“Hey!! “ I protested. “ Are you a puppy? Use a towel like the rest of the world.” I mumbled.
He laughed.
“Come in, princess.” He grabbed my wrist, tugging gently and I stepped into his room, looking around eagerly.
He closed the door behind us and I heard him pull the dead bolt into place before turning the key as well.
No interruptions then.....
Good.
“Your room is actually bigger than mine.” I frowned, noting the big four poster bed, complete with a white curtained canopy. I let my gaze fall to the clean white sheets and my mind flashed back to the beautiful Helena, sprawled on the bed in nothing but her underwear.
I swallowed the bitter jealousy that threatened.
Hands wrapped around my waist from behind and he hugged me close, the warmth of his chest heavy and amazing on my body. I jumped a little when i felt the gentle press of his lips on the curve of my neck.
“You sure about this? We don’t have to do anything at all tonight. We can kiss a little, watch a movie and sleep. But you’re a big girl so I’m gonna let you call the shots.” He lightly grabbed a huge chunk of my hair, lifting it out of the way before kissing the back of my neck.
“Uh...” I stared straight ahead, already half aroused. “I want....to feel good.”
He laughed against my skin, his hold around me tightening.
“That can be arranged.” He said hotly, teeth nipping at my skin before he gently turned me around in his arms.
I looked up at him, drinking in his gorgeous face and he hummed, eyes narrowed as though in deep thought.
“Bed?” He prompted and it was ridiculous, how one word could turn me on that bad. I nodded, making to move but he surprised me, crouching and grabbing the back of my thighs, pulling me up so easily, that I shrieked. I wrapped my thighs around his waist, more by instinct than intent and he laughed at the look on my face.
“This always gets the ladies going.” He winked and I flushed.
“Show off...” I muttered, lightly punching his shoulders and he shrugged.
“I don’t hit the gym five times a week to not show off darling.” he drawled, walking over to the bed and tossing me on the mattress. I bounced off the surface, squawking in surprise and I scrambled to sit up but he was already grabbing the hem of his hoodie and tossing it off.
I’d never seen him shirtless but before I could fully appreciate the view, he was climbing on the bed. He grabbed my ankles, tugging me away from the head board and I landed on my back with an oof.
“Ow. You’re being entirely too careless with me. “ I protested.
He crawled forward on his knees, closer and closer till he was throwing one leg over my body, straddling my waist.
“Thought you wanted to be put in your place.” He reminded me and I grinned up at him.
“I think I’m right where I want to be. Under you.” I said honestly and he nodded.
“It’s where you belong.” He whispered, taking me entirely by surprise .
My heart began pounding a familiar ache, a familiar pang. I knew it was an illusion. He didn’t for a second believe I belonged here but it was hard not to believe him, when he was hovering over me , looking like a fallen angel.
God, don’t get emotionally invested. He doesn’t actually mean it, you fool.
“Kiss me.” I held my arms up and he lowered himself carefully, keeping his weight off me as he kissed me, soft and gentle. I let my fingers tangle in the damp ebony locks, tugging gently as he angled himself better, tongue begging entrance.
The heady mint taste of him, sent me into over drive and I wrapped both my legs around his waist, pulling him down.
I took a second to just take him in.
The scent of his skin against mine, clean and woody, slightly sweaty, but mostly just musky. The smell of a man . The weight of him on my body, the hardness of his arousal evident even through the sweatpants. He pulled back to stare at me, his fingers brushing my cheeks.
“You have perfect lips for kissing. Lush and plump. Like tiny pillows I can sink my teeth into.” He whispered, catching my lower lip between his teeth and tugging.
“You have beautiful nipples. I want to lick them some day. .” I breathed, running my thumb on the curve of his cheek bones.
Jungkook stared at me in complete shock for a second and then laughed .
“Thats.... a new one. Jesus. “ he shook his head, almost in disbelief.
“Sorry.” I flushed and he waved off my apology.
“You wanted to feel good right? Shall I start?” His eyes twinkled.
I nodded, way too eagerly and he laughed harder.
“Okay, let’s get you out of these clothes, princess. “ He grabbed my arm, pulling me up to a sitting position before gently tugging the t shirt off my chest. I wasn’t wearing anything underneath and his breath caught s he stared at my breasts.
He stared at them for a second, swallowing before, glancing at me .
“Beautiful.” He said, voice deep and husky.
“Thank you .” I said primly.
He laughed again and shook his head.
“I can’t remember ever laughing so much before sex. This is so weird.”
“Weird bad?” i asked, nervous.
He shook his head.
“Weird good.” He leaned in, kissing my cheek just as he hooked his thumbs into my shorts, pulling them down easily and leaving me completely naked. “ Weird adorable.”
I crossed my legs, drawing my knees up at once, feeling devastatingly shy.
His eyes softened.
“You want me to turn off the lights? “ He asked gently.
“Yes please.” I said desperately and he nodded, quickly climbing off the bed and fumbling with the light switches. He left a single light on , near the closet. It left the rest of the room dimly lit.
“Am I the first one to see you like this?” He asked, rubbing his hands together before climbing onto the bed again.
“Um... after the age of ten, yes.” I laughed nervously.
He hummed.
“You’re gorgeous. Toss me that pillow.” He pointed to the one next to my head and i handed it to him.
“Lie down for me darling.” He smiled.
I hesitated, closing my eyes tight just because it was overwhelming, seeing him in front of me , shirtless and being naked in front of him.
I laid back slowly, knees still pulled up and feet on the bed, thighs pressed together.
My heart was pounding , less from nerves and more from sheer anticipation. I’d waited long enough for this to truly feel nervous or want to back out.
And the fact that it was with Jungkook... I’d pretty much hit the jackpot in first time experiences.
Hands on my knees made my eyes fly open and I found myself staring up into his face.
“You okay?” He asked gently.
i nodded.
“Let me between your legs?” He asked sweetly.
I felt the blood rush to my face, my legs shaking as I spread my knees and thighs, enough to give him space between them. His fingers closed around my ankle lightly, gentle as he ran his hands up and down my legs.
“Relax alright. You wanted to feel good and I’m going to make you feel good. The only thing you need to do is... well.. feel.” He smiled, impish bunny teeth bright even in the darkened room.
I nodded, closing my eyes.
“Don’t wanna watch?” He teased and I shook my head. My pulse kicked up at the very thought of it.
Jungkook wasn’t anything like I’d imagined, I thought miserably. He had been attractive as the stoic, serious man who wanted to do the right thing but like this : naught and flirty and charming , he was absolutely devastating and i wasn’t sure i could come out of this unscathed.
I couldn’t fight the feeling that I was making a huge mistake . that this whole thing was going to end with my heart ripped to shreds....
His lips against my forehead pulled me out of my thoughts and I swallowed.
“I’m going to touch you.” He said softly and I shuddered when his hands closed over my breasts, gentle but firm, kneading the flesh very slowly, thumbs rubbing back and forth on the nipples till they tightened.
I bit my lips to stop myself from crying out, the sensation overwhelming and foreign because it was someone else’s fingers and not my own.
“Hey... “ one soft finger pressed against my lips, parting them gently and i sobbed out loud. “ None of that.... You should be as loud as you want to...how else will I know if I’m getting the job done?”
“You’re getting it done..” I choked out, shaking all over and his kissed my lips again, quick and hard.
“So beautiful.” He murmured, lips pressing kisses down my chest and across my breasts.
“Since you wanted to lick my nipple, let me uh...return the favor? In advance ?” He laughed against my skin and I inhaled sharply when he nipped at the fleshy mound.
His lips closed around my nipples, the suction gentle but his tongue wet and insistent .
I went completely still, my hands flying to his hair and gripping so hard he grunted . My hips lifted off the bed at the sensation, every nerve ending on fire as he kept suckling and licking and god, his teeth...he was using his teeth to bite down on the nub... making me thrash my hips , my body completely overwhelmed .
He kept his lips over the peak, licking the tip over and over till it was tender and wet and hard . He used his hands to knead the other side, thumb rubbing insistently on the neglected nub and I felt my toes curling into th mattress, my arms drooping to loop around his neck as he began to move his hips as well, grinding down on to my thigh.
I was going to black out from having my nipple played with, I thought vacantly.
“Probably won’t feel this good for me but I’m glad you like it.” He laughed again and I loved the sound of it. Loved that he seemed to be enjoying this too. And I wanted him to enjoy it. Wanted to make him feel good too.
So I let my hand drop, down to his waist and then to the front of his pants.
He froze over me.
“Sera-”
“I want to.” I said desperately, knowing what he was going to say. . “ Please , let me touch you too-”
“Hey hey...shush..”He kissed me again quick and heady. “ Remember what I said? You call the shots.... “ He pressed another kiss to the corner of my lips. “ Want me to take off my sweats?”
I nodded, “ Yeah.”
He wiggled out of his pants quickly and i cursed myself for wanting the lights turned off.
I hesitated, rubbing my palm on his pecs and tracing the muscles down to his tightly packed abs and then hesitating.
“You can touch.” He said hotly and I swallowed, letting my fingers flutter down between his gloriously thick thighs. His skin was smooth and hard , like silk over steel and I let my fingers go lower, past the light dusting of hair to the thick, rigid length of him , my fingers closing over the hardness of his cock.
Jungkook jerked forward, head burying into the pillow near my head and he swore.
“Fuck...” He sounded strangled and I laughed , gripping him harder but not a lot because I wasn’t sure how much was too much. .
“I have no idea what I’m doing...” I admitted weakly , loosening my grip a little to stroke up and down over the length of his cock.
“Fuck.. just the fact that you’re doing it is going to make me cum.” He choked out and I laughed, ridiculously flattered.
He grabbed my wrist, pulling my hand away.
“Lick it.” He said softly.
I went still, my brain grinding to a halt.. Lick....??
My eyes went wide.
And so did his.
“Your palm.” He choked out. “ Lick your palm not my..... Your palm. It’s too dry.”
Oh.. oh.
Lick my palm. Not his cock. Right. Got it.
“Okay...”I drew my hand up and hesitated , unsure . Jungkook watched me like a hawk, eyes trained on my mouth and I bit my lips, cupping my palm and spitting into it, twice for good measure. feeling absolutely filthy.
“Fucking hell.” He breathed as I took my hand down to his cock again, wrapping my hand around it and it did feel better, easier to jerk him off with the lubrication. I moved my hands up and down , with no rhythm and Jungkook gritted his teeth.
“Okay... I’m gonna.. “He shivered a little when I tentatively pressed my thumb to the head, surprised to find him wet , on the top. I gathered the moisture around his slit, spreading it all over the head of his cock, using my fingers to rub circles over the crown , fingers tracing the thick vein on the underside.
inside me. This is going to be inside me.
I felt my thighs shake, my insides clenching, wetness dribbling out of me as I squirmed.
“Please... Jungkook , I...”
“I got you...” He whispered, grabbing my hand and pulling it away from his cock.
“hey-” I pouted but he shook his head.
“If you don’t keep your hands off, this'll all be over before it even begins,.” He said dryly.
I closed my eyes again, my nerves picking up.
“Listen...” He said suddenly and I blinked, staring at him. “ I’m going to get you wet...” Oh, god, “ With my tongue.”
My entire body went taut.
“I..”
“It’ll make it easier... trust me. And It’ll feel good. Wasn’t that the goal today? “ He tossed me a wink, squeezing my thighs a bit. He moved back and grabbed the pillow.
“Lift your hips up for me.” He said gently and I raised my butt, jerking when he folded the pillow in half and pushed it under my hips. And the he was crawling backwards, till his face hovered over my belly button.
“Throw your legs over my shoulders....” He said briskly, gripping my thighs , one in each and spreading my legs apart. I did as he asked, the back of my knee resting on the hard muscles of his broad shoulders and i raised my head a bit to peer down at him.
The sight of jungkook’s gorgeous fucking face between my thighs got seared into my head and I fell back, already overwhelmed.
He pressed a soft kiss to my thigh, a little nip my skin and then sucked the skin at the juncture of my hip and thigh. He was breathing in suddenly, a loud, shuddering inhale. His breathing wavered and i felt the sharp pin prick of teeth.
“Shit..”He pulled back and I jumped a little, watching him struggle. He glanced at me and I saw the flash of white between his lips. He’d dropped fang...and was clearly struggling to get them to retract.
“You can do it..” I said feverishly. “ Jungkook , you can.... Drink.”
He shook his head and glanced up at me and the look in his eyes made me startle .... because it looked like he was going to get up, move away , possibly call off this whole thing and no...no that was absolutely not going to happen.
I was not letting him back out of this.
He tried to move, but I grabbed his hair, yanking his mouth back to my thigh.
“Fucking do it...” I snapped angrily and his eyes widened at my tone, “ do it and then fuck me , Jungkook or I swear to God I’ll -”
Sharp, sharp pain lanced through my spine as he bit down, fangs piercing my skin with ease and I felt the rush of liquid as it left my body, filling his mouth as he gulped.
His venom worked its magic, the pain dulling to a throb, a pleasant heady intoxication....meant to make the bleeding out painless, meant to make death pleasant for the prey but for me it was just pleasure.
Pleasure because he could have his fill and I would still be able to give him more.
Pleasure because with me, he could indulge himself, as much as he wanted without worrying about the consequences.
Jungkook groaned against my thighs, his shoulders shaking as he drank and I stroked his hair, petting the dark strands as I fought the slight lightheadedness, knowing that it would pass soon.
Jungkook sucked deeper and I parted my legs moaning when my head began to spin, and then I felt his fingers touch my center, parting my folds , spreading the wetness all over his fingers before his thumb pressed down on my clit, rubbing insistently. I felt myself dripping all over the sheets, so wet and swollen and throbbing...
“Oh, god yes... That feels so good, Jungkook .. I...” I gasped as he slipped one long finger in, deep and without any resistance. The warm wetness in my thigh began spreading and I heard him groan as he sucked harder, drinking me down like i was the finest wine.
“Another... give me more...please...”
He moaned, still drinking, still shaking as he pressed another finger in next to the previous one, deeper still, searching and stroking, tracing every ridge inside me, curling just right, and rubbing down on that spot inside me...the one I could never quite reach by myself.
Jungkook inhaled sharply, his fang sinking in just a little deeper as he latched on tighter and my legs shook as I cried out.
He hummed, using one hand to rub soothing circles on my thigh, while he rubbed his thumb across my clit , hard and the gentle and then hard again until it throbbed and ached , over and over again and I was sure the little nub was bruised, that I wouldn’t be able to touch it for a while without wincing.
I was gushing , my arousal so strong that the sheets were soaked, wet and so damp and the sensation of his fingers, thick and deep inside me while his fangs bit down harder, while he fed from me, was just too much...too much.
I exploded around his fingers , my orgasm so strong that my hips lifted right off the bed, and he fucked me through it, fingers pounding in and out of my wet swollen walls as he pulled away, fangs retracting and I struggled to get on my elbows , to get a look at him.
He looked completely wrecked, fangs still half out, lips red and dripping blood , eyes flashing scarlet and blazing with lust so potent , I felt my insides churn.,,. i stared at him as I clenched over his fingers and he closed his eyes, shoulders shaking as he tried to get his bearings but I grabbed his shoulders, scrabbling to pull him up and closer.
“Inside!” I choked out as he tried to get up, looking punch drunk and out of it.” Get inside me.”
“Sera... you’re...” He was slurring his words and I cried out in sheer frustration, scrabbling to my knees and pushing him down till he was flat on the bed.
“ Please i need it... need your cock inside me Jungkook, fuck...” I begged, my thighs aching and walls clenching from how desperately I wanted to be filled. I stuck my hand between my legs , gathering as much of my wetness as I could before gripping his cock, coating him in my arousal.
There was something so filthy about his hard, thick cock covered in my juices that made my mouth water. I wanted to swallow him down, to feel his cock hit the back of my throat but I wanted him inside me too.
Maybe next time.
“Please....Please can I sit on your cock?!! “ i choked out, fully gone. Jungkook groaned at my words.
“Yes.. fuck... Do it.. Come on baby, take what you want from me.” he whispered. and I scrambled up to straddle his thighs. Gripping the base of his cock, I pressed the tip against my entrance, closing my eyes to brace myself, digging my knees into the mattress for leverage before sinking straight down .
“Oh, fuck....” I shuddered, my entire body thrumming as he pressed in, the hard length of him cleaving me so easily there was absolutely no pain to even register. It was just new. Different.
And so so exhilarating.
I sank all the way down till my ass hit the hardness of his thighs.
And then I couldn’t move anymore. My body shook with tremors and My hands began trembling.
“Jungkook...please... I..”
He responded by reaching out and gripping me thighs.
“Look at me baby...!” He said sharply and I stared down at his sweat slicked face. His eyes flashed red for a second and then he tugged me down, till i was lying flat on his chest. His arms came around my waist, anchoring me in place.
“Gonna give it to you good. Just stay still yeah?” He breathed against my ear as i buried my face in the crook of his neck. And then he was rolling us both over, till I was flat on my back, his hand closing over my thigh, spreading my legs apart as he pistoned straight in.
We were both too far gone for any semblance of a rhythm and I stopped trying to move, merely wrapping my arms around his neck, clinging on as he fucked into me, so hard that I could feel him in my gut. I felt my hips ache from the sheer force of his thrusts, my thighs cramping from how wide he had me spread and my clit throbbing from the way his cock dragged across it with every thrust.
Pleasure swelled, again, this time stringer and I stopped fighting to make it happen, sinking back and letting it crash over me , like a wave breaking over the cliffs.
Jungkook groaned as I exploded around him, my walls clenching around his cock and milking him and he shuddered in my arms, his cock twitching inside me as he came, filling me up .
I gripped his shoulders, clinging to him as he trembled through the aftershocks. I felt my walls clenching, over and over again and Jungkook gave me a strangled moan.
“Too much...baby.. please stop... “ He begged and I froze, realizing that he was too sensitive and wanted to pull out.
“sorry...sorry... “ I willed my walls to stop clenching and he made a noise of sheer exhaustion as he pulled out of me.
I watched as he rolled off me, collapsing on his back, breathing hard.
I stared up at the ceiling, feeling the wet mess of his cum, drip out of me and onto the sheets. I had the sudden made urge to stick my finger down there , scoop it up and taste it but I tamped it down.
“Well.” I began....
He turned to look at me.
I turned to him, still trying to catch my breath.
“I’m not a virgin anymore.” I grinned wide.
He groaned and ran a finger over his face.
“Congratulations, Princess.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Author’s Note : Please i need holy water.
feedback is love. If you don’t tell me you loved this fic i will not write smut anymore.
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If you were editor of Nightwing's book ever since at least the start of Rebirth to today and you were given free reign, what would your story mandates?
Oh no, this is dangerous. LOL. Hmm, I have no idea what to shoot for here, so I'll try to keep it to ten. That's reasonable right? Ten is good. Yeah. Is fine.
Okay, so, in no particular order:
1) Let Dick be competent 101. None of this him having to play hype man for every other character to pop up in HIS title bullshit. Nope. That's not what they're there for. He's the lead man, LET HIM BE THE LEADING MAN. Like sure, everyone has their areas of expertise, he doesn't need or have to be the best at everything, blah blah blah.....but its about the nuance. All of that is kinda lip service because the thing is, you don't go into MOST comic books and NEED to be reminded of that because the lead characters of those books are all constantly getting saved or shown up or chastised by every guest star in their books, you know? This is a very weird, very niche phenomenon very specific to Dick's character, and I'm super over it. I'm here to read about the guy who has literally been doing this longer than most superheroes twice his age. The guy who's been doing this since before he hit double digits. The born acrobat. The destined ultimate warrior or whatever of Gotham's Ornithological Society Of Murder and Pretentiousness. Gimme that guy. And that guy doesn't need to be 'humbled' every other page, because the thing is, he's not some egomaniac to begin with so the everpresent need to humble him doesn't actually come off as humbling! It just comes off as pandering and not even to actual fans of the actual character, so its like.....wyd DC.
2) Let other people take responsibility for their own crap with Dick rather than always just expecting a mea culpa from him. I'm so unbelievably tired of the words I'm sorry from Dick. I love personal accountability, so I never thought I'd have to say this about a character, but enoooooough. They have made it completely in character for this dude to apologize to everyone ELSE for being brainwashed, getting amnesia, being KILLED, like.....the amount of things he's groveled for forgiveness for when he didn't actually do a damn thing wrong or worse yet, was the ACTUAL victim of is like....pretty damn staggering. And meanwhile, there's nary a peep of apology from the people who regularly insult or belittle him, get physically violent with him, take advantage of him or take him for granted, etc, etc, etc. Its entirely too one-sided and imbalanced, and the pendulum needs to swing the other direction, like YESTERDAY, and in a fairly big way, IMO.
3) None of this Baby's First Social Justice Awakening 101 crap. I'm sorry, but no. Especially not when you go out of your way to acknowledge that Dick is Romani, only to then turn around and act like he's only JUST had his eyes opened to an awareness of like, classism and poverty and the real struggles people face day to day? Sorry not sorry, but especially for other white writers out there, do not use people of color as self-inserts for dipping a toe into Learning To See Past Privilege. And especially when talking about a character who has a history of being actively abused and hurt by the system and institutions of power, or hell, even leaving out that particular origin story, who has still been out on the streets helping people since he was a literal child. You can not tell me that this is his first face to face experience with social issues, or the first time he's had the inclination to try and address those head on. (And its also particularly egregious that the people second-guessing Dick in his own title and giving him reality checks or acting like they have more of an awareness of all this than he does like, happen to all be white? OPTICS. LEARN ABOUT THEM. COMMON SENSE. GET SOME.)
Know what would actually be a better way to approach this? Flashbacks. Show us Dick running into situations that make him think back to a case when he was still Robin, when he and Batman had started fighting over their approaches to things, actually SHOW us those conflicts and how their viewpoints had started diverging, and how much of that was due to Dick not having the same experiences as Bruce, or the same standing in society, no matter what house he lived in. THEN you can jump BACK to the present, with the reminder/awareness that this is something that isn't NEWS to Dick, but that he in the past felt he was forced to make his peace with as something he wasn't in a position to do that much about....only NOW, he's in a very DIFFERENT position, and suddenly it just hits him how he's still acting like he did when he was limited in resources or in having to be part of a chain in command or having to factor other responsibilities into things....now he ACTUALLY has the power and the resources to make meaningful change in the ways he ALWAYS wanted to, but maybe just needed time to figure out HOW.
Like you know what would have made Shawn Tsang's story arc so much better? If Dick didn't just remember her as the Pigeon's one time teenage sidekick he'd briefly fought as a kid, but like.....if he remembered her as someone he and Bruce had FOUGHT about. Because he didn't agree with sending someone to juvie for defacing public property as a form of political protest, when it was someone's LIFE who was going to be irrevocably damaged by that while the damage to the city could be fixed with a check, and what made Dick any more deserving of Bruce's leniency and faith in his potential or underlying goodness than Shawn?
But he was still a kid himself back then, and when Bruce responded with his usual conviction, talking about the importance about rule of law and etc etc, Dick just didn't have the words to get through to him then, to get him to understand that this wasn't just Dick not getting it because he was too young, it was BRUCE not getting it, that Dick was literally just saying well he wasn't too young to have been in juvie himself, and of the two of them, he's the one who has experience there so why was Bruce's opinion on whether this was the punishment that fit the crime the one that got to hold more weight here? When Dick's the one who knows what that punishment actually LOOKS like beyond the abstract, for whom it was a reality that still haunts him in ways that even defacing a few statues of some rich old fucks doesn't deserve?
Or hell, go back FURTHER than when he was Robin. Idk where any of those posts are, but I've always wanted to see something where Dick maybe runs into someone he remembers from his time in juvie, maybe a guard who is like, the source of the reasons Dick mistrusts figures of authority and is so hung up on independence and not being under anyone's thumb, or maybe someone who was in there with him, another kid who looked out for him when he didn't have to, etc. Gimme Dick tackling head-on his firsthand awareness that there's no rehabilitation to be found in a jail for kids, when most of those kids don't even need rehabilitation in the first place and only did what they did in order to survive or escape from worse situations or like, were there purely because of racist cops, etc. Let him go after THAT system, driven by personal experiences and memories that maybe only hit him in full after recovering his memories from the Ric Grayson arc, like they're things that he put in a box in his mind a long, long time ago because he didn't have the spoons or reserves to deal with them when he was a kid still so traumatized in so many ways, like, something had to give and so he put all those memories away for another day and just....never got back to them because life kept hitting him with new and fresh trauma every week.
But now something has him thinking back to those early days in Gotham, and reminding him that not everyone had a Bruce Wayne willing and able to give them an out from that place or acrobatic skills to escape it on their own, and like. You want to do something about the cycles of violence in Gotham and Bludhaven? Why not start with the places that literally MANUFACTURE cruelty on an institutional level, that teach kids that no matter what they did to get put there, even if that was nothing at all, they're all going to be treated the same way and given no reason NOT to do whatever it took to be top dog in a dog eat dog world by the time they got out.
There's SO many better approaches to social awareness in the Batbooks than what we're seeing, and like. Sheesh. The bar is way too low.
4) On a related note, if I'm editor of the Nightwing book, the FIRST thing I'm doing is making it a priority to find a writer of color for that book, ideally someone of Rom descent. Its waaaaay past time to let a Romani writer take the reins on Dick, Wanda, Pietro or Doom, aka some of the only prominent Romani characters out there? You can't tell me that there aren't talented writers who identify as Roma who would be more than willing to add their perspective to Dick's archive of narratives, and if an editor's gotta go looking for them? Go fucking look. DC and its fans have milked a lot of mileage out of the idea of Dick being Romani with very little in the way of nuanced storytelling to show for it in the past twenty years, and if DC wants to trot out little reminders that Dick is Romani every couple years, like in the form of a freaking line that has no follow up or expansion to any degree and is offset by an internal monologue that otherwise reads as incredibly privileged, the least they can do is TRY to expand on that with the narrative perspective of someone they claim to be representing via that character.
And no, this isn't gatekeeping, this is prioritizing. Its not about preventing other writers from writing this character, like just for the hell of it, its about being proactive about finding a writer who can write specific aspects of this character that have long gone unaddressed or poorly represented. And like. Okay. Its not easy breaking into the comics industry for anyone, but its particularly not easy for marginalized writers. Most every major comic book company just recites 'make your own stuff first and then show us that' but when you're a writer specifically, finding a compatible artist to partner with on creator-owned indie stuff first, when those artists are in the same position as you are and apologetically and understandably tend to have to take paying work over yours if you can't pay except on the back end, like....there are a lot of hurdles to getting your start in comic books, and while there are more and more marginalized writers in comics these days, DC and Marvel kinda fucked up, because you know what?
After being told 'make your own first, then we'll talk,' writers DID do just that....but then found out that well, due to the ease of online distribution and access these days, for any writers who CAN find an artist to partner with, its a hell of a lot easier to get their content out there these days WITHOUT a major publisher behind them.....and for a lot of marginalized writers in particular, its worth it to keep full creative control in exchange for smaller circulation. Especially when they don't have to deal with editors 'softening' their work to make it more palatable for audiences that quite frankly aren't necessarily their primary target. So yeah, marginalized voices are becoming more and more present in comics, but Marvel and DC for the most part are keeping the same voices centered they always have, and what these voices have to say is becoming less and less relevant and outdated. Because much like this arc from Taylor, even when they DO dip their toes into story matter that's of interest to wider audiences, they're doing so to a degree that still puts them years behind the conversations everyone else is having.
5) The same holds true of disability representation. I stopped reading Taylor's run for a lot of reasons but his way of responding to people unhappy with his depiction of Babs was a key one. If I'm editor on a book, and someone tweets at one of my writers that their depiction of a disabled character was hurtful because it feels like they're doubling back on everything Babs has ever said about not being defined by or ashamed of her disability and now its being treated like a dirty little secret, and that writer's response is essentially to just laugh at them and say there's nothing wrong or ableist about their writing of a disabled person, TO a concerned disabled person? That writer's ass is getting fired. Full stop.
Either you give a shit about this stuff or you don't. Don't pay your readers lip service about how important social issues are to you and how much you care about using superhero narratives to inspire people on these matters if you're gonna turn around and show your ass the second you don't feel comfortable and prioritized by the conversation, like it wouldn't exist without your oh so valuable contributions. ESPECIALLY if you don't identify as sharing the same identity of the marginalized character you're writing. You are a guest in someone else's lived experiences at that point, and you think you've got the right to belittle and talk down to the people who LIVE THERE? Fuck off, my dude.
6) Re-center Dick as someone who the superhero community RESPECTS. I love seeing Dick depicted as someone who has an awareness of his own limitations and an appreciation for what others bring to the table, and so I'm not opposed to him calling on others when he needs to.....but I also would like to see more of the opposite. But not in the way we usually see it these days, where he's asked to come help with a crisis and then usually second-guessed the whole way, and then sent back home without so much as a thank you when its done. Yawn. Sorry. I've read that story by now.
You know what story arc I freaking LOVED as a kid, back in the 90s? In Green Lantern, when Kyle Rayner first became the sole GL, one of his very early arcs, before he ever joined the JLA or anything....was him realizing how little he knew about being a superhero. He was like, my predecessors all had a full fledged CORPS to teach them everything they needed to know, but I had a few lines of exposition from a funny little blue guy in a red pillowcase and then I was off to the races. That's not good enough. There's so much I don't know about being a hero, I don't even KNOW what I still need to know.
So he went on kinda a superhero training roadtrip. He went to Metropolis to ask Superman for advice, he went to Batman to learn from Batman and Robin (Tim at the time). He went to Wonder Woman, Sentinel (Alan Scott, the first Green Lantern), etc, etc. And in the end, Kyle very much became his own kind of hero who wasn't just a pastiche of all those other heroes and the advice they gave him, but like....this put him on the road to that.
And I'd love to see something like that happen in Dick's solo title. We've seen him train in a team setting, we've seen him train the other Robins.....I'd love to see like, young superheroes from OTHER books, not ones created by the title, but like names people actually recognize from other franchises, like, guest star in Nightwing's book to learn from HIM, specifically. I wanna see something where Wally looks at the latest speedster and is like, you know what, if you really wanna be the best hero you can possibly be, then Nightwing's who you gotta go to, because there's no one I trust to make a better hero out of someone than him. I want the newest kid on the JLA block to worry that people aren't taking him seriously because of his age or experience, and he's always hearing them talk about Nightwing and how young he was when he started and so if anyone knows something about how to gain the respect of your older superhero peers, that's the guy to talk to.
Gimme Dick's couch being crashed on at various times by a half dozen new or upcoming young superheroes who all heard or figured out that if they really want to up their superhero game, Nightwing's the guy to see.
7) Bring back Bea. There's no long paragraph expansion on this, its really simply. Bring back Bea. She was one of the freshest breaths of air in Dick's supporting cast in ages, most of the current run is based off her character direction in the first place, she's literally the best suited TO help Dick in this venture, and the reasons they gave for writing her out of Dick's life were all bullshit and they just wanted to focus on his previous relationships, which would be fine if they didn't fall into the same two endless cycles of bring back up, go nowhere with, awkwardly avoid each other for years, rinse and repeat. Like. Bring back Bea, please and thank you, the end.
8) Focus on new villains. Heartless is meh, but the idea of new villains is still better IMO than rehashing Blockbuster, Zucco, etc. Like, nostaglia ain't it. If I want to read Blockbuster fucking up Dick's life, I can do that. They're called back issues. The thing is, love it or hate it, the Blockbuster arc WAS iconic. It left its mark. And anything that doesn't leave just as much of a mark, if they're going to bring him up again, is just gonna be a waste of time, you know? It'll just dilute his overall presence when like, what he was - worked fine as is. We don't need Round Two.
The trick to good villains, IMO, is they have to speak to a fight that needs fighting.
What I mean by that is....the best villains are those who resonate on a more instinctive level because they embody something that already exists in a reader's mind as a conflict that needs fighting. Like, if superheroes exist, if the embodiment of larger than life presences and forces devoted to protecting the world from various things are real....then their villains need to embody the kinds of fights or conflicts that NEED larger than life figures to combat them, at least on a one to one level.
Look at Superman and Lex Luthor. Superman at his core embodies the strength of community. He's the ultimate hero of the people, his essence is that he was the last survivor of a doomed race who was raised by two honest, hard working people to see the beauty in just being ONE of them, in using what he had on behalf of all of them and not just himself. In contrast, Lex Luthor is basically the embodiment of capitalist greed, of excess, of the entitlement of being able to have anything with a snap of your fingers and thus assuming that gives you divine mandate to make the kinds of choices that he sees as only his right to make.
He hates Superman, ultimately, because Superman is the WRONG savior of the people. He wants their only savior to be HIM, half the time he honestly believes he's saving the world FROM Superman, but just as often he's perfectly content to be the villain and not shy about it....because Lex Luthor's ultimate motivation is he wants everyone to know when he's dead and gone that LEX LUTHOR WAS HERE. He genuinely doesn't care WHAT his impact or legacy is at the end of the day, just that it exists and it overshadows most everything else...because all that really matters to him is the irrefutable proof that HE mattered. And thus at their cores, Superman and Lex are perfectly opposed. Ideally situated to eternally be in conflict, their own forever war, because their core natures are incompatible. They CAN'T compromise, without compromising themselves and essentially ending up as someone totally other than who and what they are already.
And you can go down the list. The Joker is the chaos to Batman's order, while Mr. Freeze is the stagnancy of that order taken too far, he's what you get when you freeze everything in your grief and refuse to let anything go on, anything new grow, because that would mean having to admit once and for all that what you're mourning is really gone. Two-Face is the ultimate embodiment of Man vs Self, a once good man at war with his own worse nature, and reminding everyone who looks at him how easily they could fall to the same fate.
And so on and so on. What Dick needs, is more of the same. Like, as much as I'm not a huge fan of Talon stories, I maintain that the Court of Owls were a great foil for him - just they tend to be poorly used in canon as well. But I also think how poorly they come off in canon has a lot to do with canon not really touching on WHY they're such a perfect foil for Dick....and that's Dick's history with being outside the system, mistreated and even exploited by the system. Because the Court, their core concept, is they ARE the system. They are entrenched, enfranchised, institutional power, passed down through generations, dynastic control that is a perfect counterpart to the dynastic power of the Wayne family, embodied in its youngest generation in the form of Bruce's FOUND family, the children he adopted regardless of whether or not his peers found them deserving of that honor. The Court, and their entire....thing...about the Gray Son, is the entitled fury of those denied something they deem theirs simply because they WANT it, and who will burn the whole world down rather than admit defeat or let someone else have it instead.
And that resonates. It could resonate a lot MORE if DC would actually lean into those concepts and allow Dick to explore how the Court are nothing he's not used to, they're literally made up of the same people who have looked down on him ever since he came to Gotham, but now they're actually a face and a name put to all those attitudes, something he can literally FIGHT BACK AGAINST. The Court are literally human-sized embodiments of everything and everyone who's tried to confine Dick since his parents' deaths, tried to define him without his permission, tried to make him other or lesser than who and what he is.....and who thus now exist in a form that Dick can literally BATTLE. So that he doesn't HAVE to just take this stuff lying down.
Thanks to the Court, he doesn't HAVE to just passively accept it, that this is just how life is, that some people are going to view him this way and think this about him and there's nothing he can do about it. He CAN do something about it, in superhero stories. He can kick its ASS, in the form of the Court of Owls and everything its members think about him and intend for him. He can refuse to bow down to them, to accept their mark on him. He can say lol, no, and then blow their shit sky high, ideally with a little help from his family. He can BEAT them, in this incarnated form, and in doing so, even though he can't beat everything they stand for and represent, that victory still matters, still means something symbolic to readers it resonates with.
And that's what we need more of. Villains created specifically to embody concepts that are diametrically opposed to Dick and what he represents. The system, yes, but also villains who embody the kind of tyranny and control he fights back against in his constant battles for autonomy and self control. Villains who embody the 'new hopes' of a second generation just like Dick himself is the focal point of the hopes embodied by the second generation of heroes. I'm actually not the hugest fan of multiversal constant Dick Grayson, but I might like it more if he had an opposite number there, someone he was specifically contrasted with. Idk.
But you get it.
9) Dick having a social life. Gimme the Titans and his siblings showing up JUST to show up. We have room enough for at least a couple pages every other issue where we just get to see these characters having some breathing room, taking a beat to stop and be something other than just a superhero, to be human as well. There's more to life than 24/7 fighting, even for them, and that's largely been lost in modern superhero comics, which kinda sucks, because that was what made most of the more iconic and lasting dynamics between various characters like, STAND the test of time. The larger than life battles between good and evil might be what many of us come to superhero comics FOR, but the relatable back-and-forths and ups and downs of their private lives spent with friends and family tends to be what keeps most of us coming BACK. And lately its all just mission, mission, mission, and I'm like blah, blah, blah and its like, meh, meh, meh. Y'know? Give the guy some down time, and let his friends come spend it with him.
10) Boone. This is purely self-indulgent, but if you know anything about me, you know my obsession with Robin: Year One, Dick's brief time at Vengeance Academy, and the hate/hate relationship he has with his brief frenemy from that period, Boone aka Shrike. This character has SOOOOO much potential to be Dick's true archnemesis and rival, and like. *Sobs* I can't get into it all again. Its too much. I can't do it.
Okay, I absolutely can. And will, probably. But like. Later.
BONUS ROUND:
Other thing I would absolutely insist upon if I were Nightwing editor....
GET THAT FUCKING MEME SHIRT ABOUT BRUCE SLAPPING DICK THE FUCK OUTTA HERE.
Like. Seriously. WHAT THE HELL. Why would you double down on THAT? Why is Babs STILL wearing it? (Last I checked, like I think I saw it in a scan from last issue? I'm pretty sure its still there? If not, forget this entire rant, and I am very embarrassed. Okay not that embarrassed. I don't really care if I'm wrong here but like, in case I'm not)...
WHY. Who thought that was funny? No, seriously, on behalf of any other abuse survivors who like me are SERIOUSLY not amused, who the FUCK thinks its FUNNY to have one of Dick's best friends sporting a shirt that no matter what it represents IN universe, to readers OUT of universe, is always going to call to mind the fact that this meme only freaking EXISTS because of all the times DC has obliviously and without acknowledgment written Bruce abusing his children, including the BFF that Babs is literally wearing that right in front of.
Like omg do you hate her, DC? What other possible reason could you have for thinking that would be a cute, funny thing for her to wear around the guy getting SLAPPED, by his DAD, in your shirt's iconography.
Okay I'm done.
LOL.
Sorry, that last one was brewing for awhile. Deep breaths. Woo.
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Gleam and Glow
Chapter 1
Pairing: Grey! Bucky Barnes x Fem! Reader
Word count: 3,374
Description: The reader has been held captive by their own mother their whole life, taught to believe the world is bad and that they need to be protected from it. That their gift needs to be protected from it. They possess 70 feet of hair with healing properties and some people will do anything for a chance at peace.
General Warnings: This story contains dark elements and various dark characters!! Do not read if this makes you uncomfortable!!!, kidnapping, violence, language, angst, whump, for the purposes of the story the reader has 70ft foot long hair that glows gold- this does not change regardless of hair color or texture, inspired by the movie Tangled.
Chapter Warnings: kidnapping, manhandling, betrayal, mention of trafficking (selling/buying of a human), John Walker, very naive reader, brief sexual implications,arguments, un-gendered pet names,choking, illusion to sexual harassment, language, please read at your own discretion.
DO NOT REPOST MY WORK, REBLOGS ARE WELCOME AND APPRECIATED
A majority of your childhood was peaceful. You got to do all the normal kid things- of course you were never totally sure what a ‘normal’ kid thing was on account of the fact that you’d actually never met another kid but, it felt normal enough. Aside from the very abnormal ‘birth defect’ you were ‘gifted’ with. You stopped considering your magical abilities as a gift by the time you were seventeen, when your mother made it abundantly clear that you could never leave the tower, you could never go outside, and you could never cut your hair.
The only thing more annoying than the seventy foot long tresses was your mother. According to her, your father was a sloppy one night stand she found in a tavern. He was a love em’ and leave em’ type of guy; he gave your mother one great romantic night and then disappeared off the face of the earth. You’ve never met him. You’ve never met anybody. Your mother has always been your only companion. She was a beautiful woman, she said you take after her more than your dad. While she was gorgeous and protective, she was also passive aggressive, rash, and ostentatious. If it was possible for her to get out of being “the bad guy” she lunged, dragging you under at the first chance. When you were younger she would tell you stories about the outside, she made it seem like a gorgeous place. She described the kingdom and the many villages outside its walls. She started with all the good things until you showed interest in escaping, then, she gave you the truth. She began to spin tales of roads rich with crime, vigilante gangs, covert groups of thugs, and rebel Viking camps. From what you could piece together, the rebel Viking camps were the greatest concern.
The rebel Viking groups weren’t actually Vikings. Your mother had said they called them The Vikings because of their rugged and brutal lifestyle. The camp they occupy is more like a small village, the structures following Norse architectural style, chalk-full of criminals and runaways. Runaways. Your mother had always explained to you that when young girls ran away from their mothers they ended up in that village living a life of crime. The very thought of falling into the wrong hands has kept you from sneaking out or from begging to leave the tower. You found ways to be content, ways to keep busy.
The tower wasn’t as big as it looked from the outside, the only living space was at the very top of the tower. The top of the tower had about two floors worth of open space, minimal and organized in the lower level and very maximalist in the bedrooms and wall decor. Mother said the rest of the tower below was sturdy white brick and vine, aged by time and the weather. Most of the exterior bricks were cracked or crumbling, so all the support for the turret came from the tower’s solid core. The roof was a chipped and rusty blue color mostly concealed by untamed ivy growth, which also hid the entrance to the tower’s turret. To your home. The only way in and out of the tower was an intricate pulley system made from twisted vine and rope. Originally, mother had used your hair to get into the turret, until one day a strand snapped from the pressure, dying and losing its magic. In an effort to protect your gift, you helped your mother make the pulley.
Crafting things was just one of the many ways you spent your time in the tower. After you’d turned eighteen your mother didn’t stick around much, if at all, leaving at night to go to the palace or the tavern, sometimes coming back in the morning and sometimes being gone for a day or two. With so much time alone the only option was to learn how to entertain yourself. Reading books, cooking, painting, testing the information you soaked up from all of the books, sewing holes in clothes, polishing leather, polishing silver, dusting, drawing in the dust. It’s a really long list. If there’s more to add you add it, forever stretching the possibilities. As the sun started to go down however, it started to seep in just how repetitive and predictable your daily activities had become. While you knew leaving the tower would be a horrible and dangerous mistake, you couldn’t help but long to be outside. To feel the grass between your fingers or to stand out in the sun, somewhere other than where it leaks through the turrets window entrance. It could never happen. Knowing this was an impossibility kept an icy grip on your stomach, a lonely sort of feeling, naturally touch starved by fate. It’s been years since the last time you asked to leave. Much before you knew how dangerous it really was out there. Asking one more time couldn’t really hurt could it? You’d be twenty soon enough, just one touch wouldn’t hurt anyone.
Mother had left early in the morning, off to do some much needed grocery shopping; if she hadn’t decided to stop by the tavern she would be home very soon. Too soon to come up with a better plan. Quickly you started to prepare for her to come home, sweeping the dining area and pulling out the utensils needed to make a special stew recipe you remember she had enjoyed. If she was going to say yes she needed to be buttered up first. Once the cooking utensils were nicely organized on or beside the unlit stove, and the dust was done away with, it was time to make quick work of anything she could use against your argument. Rushing to one of your most treasured bookshelves you pulled a discarded velvet scrap from the back of one of your more worn astronomy books. The midnight blue fabric had been torn from one of your favorite dresses when you were sixteen, unwilling to part with the shredded material, it was quickly fashioned into a long braided bookmark. Since then you’ve opted for shorter than floor length gowns or comfortable riding pants and tunics. The supposedly “masculine” style annoyed mother to no end but then again she really couldn’t understand how suffocating the corsets could become, or how difficult it was to fasten them without getting hair caught beneath the strings.
Unbraiding the bookmark allowed it to become one long thick strand, setting it on the dining table, you went to gather your hair. For the most part, you tried to keep it close to yourself. Getting any part snagged or wrapped around something was more of a pain in the ass than taking the time to gather it together. Gathering so much hair was difficult, it took time and it was unbelievably heavy. Once you were finally able to get it all in one place you started the tedious task of braiding. In order to braid it up enough to keep it off the floor you split it into three sections, braiding those separately before braiding them up into a complex Dutch braid. It took nearly two hours to finish so you could finally tie up the end with the dismantled bookmark. The complexity allowed the braid to settle halfway down your calves, keeping it neat and off the ground. Now all that was left to do was light the lanterns around the room and wait. Waiting for mother to get home was nerve wracking, if possible you’d busy yourself with starting the stew but you were fresh out of the most important ingredients.
“Y/n let down the vine!” Mother yelled from the bottom of the tower and the tension finally broke.
“Coming!” You sighed out in relief rushing to the window and lowering out the vine life you had made.
Once you were sure she was safely in the lift’s sling, you utilized the pulley system to begin pulling her up. The tower was around forty feet tall, making the trip up lengthy and difficult. When she was close enough to the window entrance you hooked the vine slack onto the wall hook, keeping it stationary, before quickly coming to help her in with the groceries. Taking the canvas grocery bags from her arms and into the kitchen, you started pulling out the items to take inventory on what she’d bought at the market.
“How was the market? Did that man give you trouble on the celery prices again?”
“Ugh doesn’t he always? Absolutely exhausting, he wanted double, and then there was a fight at the tavern again which I always have to break up.” She pulled out a chair at the dining table, sitting into it and slinging her feet up into the neighboring chair.
You slowed for a moment, pulling the bundle of carrots from the bag slower as you processed that she may be intoxicated which meant there’d be zero chance of having the conversation you desperately desired.
“You went to the tavern?” You asked, feigning excitement.
“Of course sweetheart, I promised that I would but I wasn’t there for long I promise.” She got up to meet you in the kitchen, resting her hands on your shoulders.
“Now what are we having? I’m absolutely starved.” She smiled.
“I was going to make that stew from last winter that you liked so much. Now that fall is settling in.” you started to add broth and small peeled potatoes to the pot.
“That sounds delightful darling, I’m going to go rest my eyes, call me when it’s done?” Mother started to walk away. It was now or never.
“Actually!” You cleared your throat., “Actually I was hoping I could talk to you about something.”
“Alright but let’s make this quick, mama’s feet are aching.” She turned back around to sit in another chair.
“Well as you know I’m almost twenty, an adult really and I’m already very responsible around the tower-“
“Y/n where is this going?” She interrupted, rubbing her temples.
“I want to go outside.” You turned to look at her.
“We’ve talked about this! It’s far too dangerous! You know what would happen if anyone discovered your gift!”
“I know, I know, but I’ve thought about it and no one would even know! I won’t tell anyone about it, and if they don’t know I have it then they don’t know how to use it, so it’s useless to them. If I just keep it braided I’ll be completely normal!” You came to sit across from her, hoping it’ll be convincing.
“No absolutely not, it’s much too risky! I have kept you safe for nearly twenty years! I am not stopping now! You’re far too young to understand but this is what’s best for you!” She got up and started to walk away again.
“But it’s not! I’ve never met anyone else! I’ve never had friends or met other people my own age! I’ve never even seen a real man!” You were absolutely desperate.
“Oh a man?! This is about men huh?! So you want to leave the safety of the home I built for you to go whore around for a man?!” She was absolutely furious, beyond cooling down.
“Mother no!” Your face was burning with embarrassment at the very suggestion of sexual activities.
“No truly I understand! You would rather leave this place and be used by men! Drained of your power in one of those Viking camps no doubt! I won’t hear another word, I’m going out for air and your attitude better be gone by the time I get back!” She walked over to the vine, untying it from the wall and setting it into a rustier pulley wheel that would let her down slowly, she was gone just as soon as she’d finished her sentence.
You had no choice but to sit in utter silence and shame. Swallowed by guilt that mother could ever consider you’d do that to her. As much as you wanted to leave and experience the real world, you desperately didn’t want to disappoint your mother or end up somewhere bad. Very quickly you dissolved into regret, backing over to try and undo what’s already been done, planning a way to forgiveness. Finishing the stew was the only way you knew how to start so you got to work, making this the best stew you could ever devise. Having never written the recipe down you had to go solely based on flavor and gut feeling. That was the best way to cook anyway. Once it had been spiced to taste you put the lid on the pot to let it simmer.
Almost immediately you found yourself overrun with anxiety, filled with a need to do something with your hands. To occupy your mind. There really wasn’t much to do in the tower to occupy you enough to erase this from the forefront of your mind. So you opted for the only thing that you could: cleaning. Your started polishing, dusting anything that you could and when there was nothing left you sat and you waited. The silence was absolutely deafening. You’d totally zoned out until you heard the rattling of the pot lid on the stove, snapping your head to it only to see the stew boiling over.
“Shit!” You rushed to turn it off, burning your hand in the process as you cleaned up the mess. Suddenly you were no longer hungry.
Opting to leave the stew on the stove for whenever mother would return you left the kitchen, going to your room as you cradled your hand gently. Tears stung your eyes, threatening to drip through your lashes and you curled up on your bed. Reaching for your braid with your uninsured hand, you gently took the end and rested it over your burned palm, reaching to wipe away some loose tears. Whether the tears were from the pain or from emotional discourse you couldn’t be sure. After drying your tears you closed your injured fingers around the large amount of hair, and began to hum a soft familiar melody. As the melody continued your hair began to glow a brilliant gold, almost glittery in color. Once the shimmer reached your palm, the heat faded and the wound healed. You were able to breathe. You looked to your palm, it was as soft and unharmed as it had been that morning. As it had always been. No scars or leftover pain. Just smooth healthy skin.
You couldn’t be bothered to really prepare for bed. The dress you wore was moveable, the corset easily undone as it tied in the front rather than in the back. Laying back you took a deep breath, closing your eyes momentarily to let go of all the stress that you could. After a minute of peace you pushed yourself up and off the bed, walking over to the dark wood armoire, opening it to look in the mirror, you sighed looking at your dress. There was stew on the navy skirt and what looked like a sizable carrot. You’d have to change to sleep. Lifting the skirt up closer you plucked off the carrot and disposed of it in the nearby waste basket. Returning to the armoire you flipped your braid back over your shoulder and checked the white sleeves of the off the shoulder blouse, slid your hands over the black corset, grabbing the tied strings from the vertex of the sweetheart neckline you untied the knot. Just as you’d finished untying the security knot you heard a loud grinding bang from the lower level. Pausing to listen you grew concerned.
“Mother? Are you alright?” You called gently.
When you didn’t receive a response you dropped the corset strings and left your bedroom, looking over the bannister you were met with the worst sight you could possibly have imagined. A large piece of the stone floor was broken and pushed out of the ground, slid off to the side and two large men climbed out of the dark hole below. Half a million questions filled your head. How was there a space under the floor? How did these men find you? Did they know who you were? There wasn’t time to think, you had to act. Silently and quickly you snuck back into your bedroom, burning out the lamps and climbing into the armoire as best as you could. Tilting your chin up to silence your breathing you listened. Waiting. Thinking. The men were much bigger than you thought a man would be. From what you could make out they dressed in dark clothing. Leather. Worn and hardly taken care of if at all. They were similar heights. One a redhead and the other blonde, both with rugged facial hair. You only had a brief look and the adrenaline pumping through your veins was making it difficult to focus.
“I am never doing that shit again, forty feet of crumbling bricks and thirty feet of rope, you seriously didn’t think that through?!” You could hear them arguing.
“It didn’t look that tall alright? Can we just find the chick and get out of here? I lost my good boots in a poker game with trash panda and if I don’t win them back he’s gonna tear them apart.”
It was clear they were coming for you. The only thing you could do was hope mother came home or that they didn’t see you behind all the other clothing in the armoire. The stairs creeped. Once. Twice. There was only one creaky step. They were both coming up. You held your breath.
“Food on the stove and the lamp in here is still warm. She was here recently.” They made it into your bedroom.
“If I had to guess I’d say she’s still here.” The footsteps stopped. It was silent.
Suddenly, the hem of your skirt was yanked-it had been caught in the door-and then the armoire burst open. The blonde man grabbed your arm as you struggled, ripping you from the small dark space and out into the open. He spun you around, pressing your back to his chest, his left forearm braced across your neckline and gripped your right shoulder. His right hand held a sharp silver blade to your heart.
“Well, well, well, Princess did we catch you at a bad time? These corset strings are so very loose for company.” The blonde man taunted, using the tip of his blade to pull on the cords.
You gripped this forearm, pushing back closer to his chest in an effort to get away from his blade as you struggled.
“P-please just leave me alone, I won’t tell any-anyone.” You stuttered, trying to stay calm the way your mother had taught you.
“We have plans for you, this hair of yours… hear there’s some people willing to pay a pretty penny for just a touch.” The red headed man stroked your braid, you jerked your head away.
“Oh oh oh” the blonde man laughed. “She’s a feisty one, are you sure we have to deliver her so soon? Could be fun…”
“Oh c’mon man don’t be gross he wants her unharmed. Mostly. C’mon just cloth her so we can go. Boots remember??” The red head said, grabbing your wrists and tying them together roughly. He took the dagger from the blonde, continuing to hold it in its position as the blond reached into his pocket.
“No no no no no please please I’ll give you anything you want just leave me alone!” You begged, swerving your head away from the blondes clothed hand as it moved towards your mouth.
“Bitch stop fussing around!” He slid his left forearm up to your throat, both choking you and effectively stabilizing your head long enough to clamp the cloth over your mouth and nose.
It hardly took thirty seconds before your vision started to swim and your vision started to fade to black.
“We’re already late. He’s waiting.” One of the men said as he slipped a cloth bag over your head. Your hearing went out, senses dulled as you gave in the the dark.
#marvel fanfiction#marvel reader insert#reader insert#x reader#bucky x reader series#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky fic#bucky x you#dark!bucky x reader#grey!bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x reader#Gleam and Glow#bucky Barnes tangled au!#tangled au!#marvel au
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The Three Times James "Bucky" Barnes Broke your heart.
This was inspired by @msmarvelwrites 2k Writing Challenge because I'm a sucker for Taylor Swift especially sad Taylor Vibes. I chose the all too well lyrics.
Apparently, I can't do anything small so it's in two parts. Pairs Bucky x Reader and Pietro x Reader. (Not at the same time)
Part 1 Here
No smut but mentions of sex so 18+ Themes: highschool, cheating, college/uni. Friendship
Words 3368 it's Suburban AU.
2015 You finished up Uni staring in the school's production of Rock of Ages, Playing Sherry opposite Loki’s drew. Loki also moved to New York staying with his half brother Thor Oddinson. You stayed in touch with Loki and Pietro. The thing that took you by surprise however was six months after moving to Detroit, whilst working for Bruce Banner's start-up you received a DM on Instagram from Bucky. He heard from Sam and Jane that you were now living in Detroit and he was moving to the area after being scouted by the Detroit Lions. Hey Y/N, I hope you’re good. I know this is random and please feel free to tell me where to go, but I was wondering if you wanted to get a drink sometime? It would be great to see you again and catch up. Let me know. So you replied feeling like maybe after all this time it might be good to finally hear Bucky’s apology. Pietro and you had stayed in touch but you knew he was dating someone else. Her name was Sue Storm, she seemed like a nice girl, very smart and could easily give Pietro a run for his money. After hearing Bucky’s apology, you two started to become friends again, he invited you along to his games always offering to secure you two tickets if you wanted to bring someone. He was a machine on the football field, earning the strange nickname The Winter Soldier.
2016
Everything changed in the summer of 2016 though when Bucky’s mother passed away suddenly in June. She had practically helped raise you, so you attended the funeral with Bucky. You stayed with him in the guest room in his childhood house, helping him sort through belongings and paperwork. Bucky’s dad had died when you were 8 and Bucky like you was an only child. You took in food from neighbours wanting to pay their respects. You held his hand squeezing it in comfort during the funeral, assuring him you were there for him. Two days after the funeral you and Bucky had finished packing up the final boxes, you were upstairs, and he was downstairs being awfully quiet. You went looking for him only to find him sat on the living room floor. He was crying holding a picture of you and him one Halloween when you were 9, Bucky had gone as Superman and you as Supergirl. Your mums stood behind you, both of them chuckling whilst you and bucky tried to out pose one another. Your heart swelled. Your Grandad had died in November and god how your heart had ached, but to lose your mum, you couldn’t even begin to imagine. “Hey, hey. It's alright I’m here Buck”, you said cradling his head to your chest whilst he sobbed. You stayed like that for an unidentifiable amount of time before Bucky’s crying eased. He looked up at you blinking away the stray tears, the familiar blue in his eyes pulling you in. Your not sure who kissed who first but that was how you and Bucky ended up sleeping together.
You and Bucky officially got back together in July. Your Grandma passed away in September, the start of football season. Bucky was unable to attend the funeral, he tried god he tried. Pietro made it though. He and Sue had broken up not that he told you. By the time November rolled around things were good between you and Bucky. Wanda’s fashion label Scarlett Witch was taking off and she invited you and Bucky out to join the rest of the old gang at the official launch in December of 2016. You accepted and for the pair of you assuring Bucky, there would be no awkwardness. Pietro was casually dating and was bringing a date called Crystal.
You arrived at the party in NYC completely blown away. Wanda had asked you to wear a piece from the evening wear collection, a Black strapless dress, the top if form-fitting made from chiffon fabric, the skirt cut out the front made of black tulle sparkled with the touches of glitter. It felt like you were wearing the Milky Way. After stopping to pose for photos for the press you made your way inside. The party was being held inside a beautiful gothic building. “Y/n! You look absolutely amazing, thank you so much for wearing this and of course for coming” Wanda practically pounced on you the minute she spotted you. “Bunny! I agree absolutely amazing. Bucky, you don’t look too bad yourself” Pietro said kissing you on the cheek. Pietro was wearing a deep blue suit, it made his hair and ice-blue eyes pop. Bucky had opted for the simple black tux to match you and your dress. He almost looked good enough to eat. After grabbing a glass of champagne, Wanda and Pietro took you to the rest of the gang who had made it. Jane was here with a date, Thor Oddinson you recognised him from the few times he had been to see you and Loki in shows. Carol was here too. Peter Parker was working the event as a photographer he had brought a date a lovely young lady called Mary Jane Watson. After about 45 minutes of schmoozing and catching up, you went to the ladies room. When you exited you were a little taken aback by the sight that confronted you, a redhead was hanging of Bucky’s arm chuckling away with Thor and Jane. You could only see the back of her from where you were standing. You decided to walk over and introduce yourself. However, when you got closer to the group the woman started to look vaguely familiar.
“Hey babe,” Bucky said as you approached quickly removing his arm from the redhead. Babe. That was weird he never called you babe. His blue eyes looked like they were hiding something. “Lady Y/N. This is Lady Natasha” Thor said introducing you. The redhead turned to shake your hand smiling at you with a knowing look. “Lovely to finally meet the infamous Y/N,” she said. “I told Bucky how disappointed I was not to meet you when I was in the City in September. I’m so sorry to hear about the passing of your grandmother. Bucky kept me company whilst I was around on some Business” her voice sounded harmless, sweet and pleasant. Genuine. Her eyes and knowing smirk told a different story. Bucky looked at you, the familiar betrayal in his eyes, pleading with you. “I was just telling Bucky, I’ve been offered this amazing opportunity in Detroit so Ill be moving there in February, isn’t that wonderful?” she asked. You smiled taking a swig of your champagne. Jane looked at you, then Bucky. You shook your head.
That was the second time Bucky Barnes broke your heart. He assured you that they hadn’t slept together, however had admitted that he had kept her visit from you and that she had kissed him. “Did you kiss her back?” you asked pacing around your hotel room. “Doll, please what does it matter,” he asked reaching out for you. His calloused hands once again burning your skin with his betrayal. The fact he had chosen not to answer was all the confirmation you needed. You had left him in the hotel room. Loki had been unable to make the event due to being in a small play off-Broadway, but you had texted him asking if he wanted to get a drink. You had told him everything and he had walked you back to your hotel room. You were drunk and distressed. Bucky had opened the door his blue eyes flashing with jealousy when the handsome black-haired gentleman had his arms around you. “Easy James, if anything was going to have happened between us, it would have happened in freshman year of college,” Loki said helping you into your room. After you and Bucky returned to Detroit you guys took a break for a few months.
2017
Natasha’s job conveniently happened to be working as a fitness instructor at the Detroit Lions. After 4 months you and Bucky got back together in March of 2017. Things were going great, Natasha seemed to have released whatever hold she had on Bucky. Bucky was performing well with the Lions, his new teammate, Steve Rogers nicknamed Captain America seemed to have caught the eye of many ladies including Natasha. He however didn’t seem that interested in her and had his sights set on a girl from his home in Brooklyn her name was Peggy. Steve and you hit off due to your mutual disinterest in Miss Romanoff, he had come up with a nickname for her, he called her Black Widow because she seemed to devour the men in her life. Banners start-up tech company had taken off with thanks to your ad campaigns. You were also performing in the local summer show of Mamma Mia playing Sophie. In the summer of 17, Peggy Carter came to visit Steve, turned out she was from Britain originally. You liked Peggy and her no-nonsense approach. During July, the four of you went on lots of double dates like you were high schoolers again. For Steve’s birthday which happened to be the fourth of July, the four of you attended an event being put on by the Detroit lions. You had a great evening mixing with various teammates and their families. You even warmed to Natasha a bit that afternoon.
As the evening rolled around a giant cake was brought out to celebrate Steve’s birthday. Followed by a firework show. Everyone made their way to various blankets and cushions set out at the opposite end of the stadium. Somewhere along the way you and Bucky got separated. You didn’t worry too much, to begin with as you’d both drifted off to interact with various people throughout the event, however by the time the fireworks started Bucky was nowhere to be seen. You started to think the worst until you spotted Natasha’s red hair on the other side of the stadium flirting with a gaggle of players from various other teams who were invited. Confident Bucky would return shortly you turned your attention to the sky watching with a goofy grin, things were finally settled between you and Bucky. As the fireworks went on you decided to snap a few shots on your phone loving the way the sky lit up with bright colours. The Detroit Lions didn’t do things in small doses, so the firework display ended up going on for about an hour and a half. After about 45 minutes Bucky returned from wherever he had been slipping down behind you pulling your back flush to his chest. He stroked small circles on your arms. His rough calloused skin making you shiver from the contact.
In September you were approached by Tony Stark’s PA Pepper Potts, they had seen your campaigns for Bruce Banner and Tony was interested in headhunting you. Your contract with Bruce was up in October. You initially shot the idea down. Why would you want to leave Michigan? Your family home was a short 20-minute drive away, Bucky was doing well with the Lions. Peggy Carter was moving here after Steve had proposed at the end of Summer. It seemed ludicrous. After initially shooting down the offer. Pepper contacted you, doubling their initial offer. The offer was tempting, so you told Miss Potts you would think it over the weekend. There was no harm in bringing it up with Bucky, maybe a move would do you both good, Natasha seemed to have gotten under Bucky’s skin again. You left the office early that day. You didn’t bother to text Bucky figuring you could surprise him when he got home from training with a home-cooked meal. You stopped off to get some supplies to make Lasagne before heading over to his apartment figuring you could just let yourself in. You had called Wanda on the drive over through your cars Bluetooth. She and Vision were engaged, and she wanted you to be one of her bridesmaids. Partway through the call, Pietro had walked into Wanda’s office so you had told them both about the job offer. When you got to Bucky’s you immediately recognised the Black Widows black Mercedes. “huh, that’s weird, I wonder what she’s doing here,” you said out loud “who’s where?” asked Wanda. “oh um nothing, look I got to go I just got to Buck’s and I’m cooking dinner, going to talk to him about Tony’s offer,” you said before hanging up. You were so blind-sighted by Natasha’s car you didn’t clock Bucky’s Motorcycle parked in the corner of the small parking lot. You grabbed your bags walking up to Bucky’s figuring that you could invite Natasha in if need be whilst you waited for Buck to come home.
If you had noticed Bucky’s bike, then just maybe you would have been more prepared for the following events you unlocked Bucky’s apartment and you found clothes strewn everywhere, his jeans. A white Blouse. His boxer trunks. A Black lacy bra, that definitely didn’t belong to you. At first, you were so shocked by what you saw that you didn’t hear the moans coming from the bedroom. It was like you were possessed you carried your bag of groceries as you walked in a daze to the bedroom, you opened the door and found Bucky once again cheating on you. He and Natasha were in the throws of fucking each other, you found Natasha with her back to you, wrapped around Bucky’s waist. Bucky sat upright facing you however his eyes closed whilst he drank in the pleasure. You felt your heartbreak as you dropped your bag of groceries. The bag made a thud as it hit the ground, alerting Bucky to your presence. His eyes flew open connecting with yours. Natasha however didn’t stop riding your boyfriend’s cock. Bucky tried to push her off him, but you were already storming out the door. You grabbed your bag and left Bucky’s spare key in the door. Bucky grabbed a pair of joggers and slippers before chasing after you. Bucky’s apartment was on the second floor. All the apartments on the second floor opened outside to a walkway.
“Really James?!?” you turned round to face him before he could even say your name. “Was once not enough? Did you not hurt me enough the first time?” You asked. You could feel the anger threatening to burst in the way of tears. Bucky went to speak, his blue eyes once again filled with guilt. “How long?!” you asked quietly. Bucky moved towards you tugging on your wrist. “Come on Y/N, come back inside it’s starting to rain, we can discuss this inside,” he said, his eyes pleading with you. At that moment Natasha appeared in Bucky’s open doorway. She looked pleased with herself, wearing Buck’s shirt. The site made you want to vomit. “How. Long?!” you asked again through gritted teeth. Bucky faltered. “Since July. Since the 4th of July event,” he admitted rubbing his hand over his face. At that moment you felt completely and utterly broken. “I’m done, James. Do you hear me? I am done. We are through. You two.” You pointed to Natasha. “You two are welcome to one another”. That was the third time Bucky broke your heart.
You took the job working for Stark Industries. Your contract had ended with Bruce but your lease on your apartment was up until January so you stayed working for him until December of 2017 You said your goodbyes to Steve and Peggy in January and moved across the country to your new life in the big apple.
December 2018
The unknown number flashed up on your phone for the third time that day. You sighed before answering it. “Hello, Y/N Speaking how can I help?” you asked fiddling with your jumper. “Hey Doll, it's me. Don’t hang up.” Your breath caught in your throat. James Buchanan Barnes. You hadn’t spoken to him in over a year. He hadn’t even attempted to reach out to you after you split up mailing your things back to you, well all but a scarf. In January shortly before you’d moved to NYC you’d seen a magazine article saying the Winter Soldier was dating Natasha Romanoff. It confirmed what you already knew deep down, which was that you might be okay but you were not fine at all.
You’d worked so hard to forget about him long enough to forget why you needed to. He had better have a damn good reason for calling you. “You have 5 minutes,” You said getting up from the sofa you were sat on. “look, I know I fucked up with you. In more than one way on more than one occasion. I think it was the pressure to be the perfect couple, you know lifelong friends to more. And well I guess I just freaked out, and then I fell for her, but she didn’t want me, and when you gave us another shot, I thought I could convince myself to love you the way I did her, the way you had loved me. But truth be told, it was always Natasha after that summer. I know you deserve better, and I truly am sorry for hurting your doll. But I wanted you to hear it from me before you read about it in the news. She’s pregnant and also, we’re getting married.” Bucky said. You stood in the middle of the apartment stunned. “So, you call me up again, just to break me like a promise. So casually cruel in the name of being honest?” you whispered. Squeezing back the tears. “Well fuck you, James.” With that, you hung up. Of course, Bucky tried to ring right back, you declined the call, falling to your knees in pain. You had never asked for any of this, you had been quite happy being Bucky’s best girl as his friend. He was the one who kissed you at that prom.
You weren’t still in love with Bucky, you had moved on, forgetting about him and the pain he caused you. He hadn’t needed to call you, he could have given you a heads up through one of your mutual friends, but no. he had to go and stick the knife in. After lying there like a crumpled-up piece of paper and letting the tears fall. You picked yourself up. You washed your face and made yourself a mug of hot chocolate grabbing a Christmas cookie from the tin before making your way over to the bay window. You sat down taking in the view. The traffic had eased off a bit as things wound down for the evening. The snow had been falling pretty much all day. After about 15 minutes of sitting peacefully the key in the lock turned. You didn’t move you were incredibly content where you were, even if you could use a refill in the hot chocolate department.
“Hey handsome how was your day?” you asked not taking your eyes away from the street below. A group of kids were throwing snowballs at one another. You smiled to yourself enjoying their innocence. “It was good, busy” he replied taking off his coat and walking over to join you at the window seat. Wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close. “How about you Bunny? I saw a news alert. I’m guessing you know about the engagement?” he asked. You hummed a response. Before shuffling yourself around to face him. His floppy silver-blonde hair covering those beautiful ice blue eyes, they looked at you with such love and endearment, they also spoke a silent promise that he would never hurt you the way that Bucky had. You kissed him gently on the lips before standing up. “Come on Quicksilver let's shower before the Stark Christmas Gala,” you said pulling your boyfriend along behind you shooting him a knowing grin. His nickname may be Quicksilver for athletic reasons but there were some things he liked to take his time with.
A/N If you stuck with me through all this, I am truly sorry. I'm gonna go cry
Tagging the bestie @lannycleave
#bucky x reader#pietro x reader#avengers au#marvel#marvel au#avengers fanfiction#𝐦𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬𝟐𝐤#bucky barnes fluff#pietro#pietro fluff#bucky barnes#pietro fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfiction
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Doesn't that mean Larry isn't a thing though?
First, let me note that this is something Harry and everyone around him has been saying in not so many words since November 2019, and if you were in doubt then, the music video could not have been more obvious about the intent of the song, or at least the marketing.
But to answer your question, no, it doesn’t. I feel like one of the main reasons why Harry's comments from last night would make you freak out or question your beliefs about Harry and Louis or double down in your denial about what the song is intended to be is if you've defined your existence as a Larrie around this idea that Harry is 100% a gay man who could never in a million years be attracted to a woman. And unfortunately, I think a lot of people have done that.
I feel like there has always been this very strict belief that 1) Harry hates his womanizer and fantasy boyfriend roles, that 2) he has despised and been unconvincing in every PR relationship and stunt he’s ever had, and that 3) he is not attracted to women and could never be attracted to women. And I used to fully believe all of these things too, but I feel like with time and perspective, I don’t necessarily anymore.
I think that Harry's womanizer image while in One Direction went several steps too far to the point where he and the other boys were uncomfortable with it, but there were moments where Harry had fun with it. One example is when they were doing that interview in Australia with Liam and Louis and Harry went over to snatch the woman's phone number. Eventually, however, I think it reached a level where he was disgusted and frustrated by it because it came to define him and made him seem like a bad person, which is not accurate, and at that point, he was not interested in playing along with the image they assigned him. I also think it was started at such a young age when he had no power to consent to it truly, and that was never going to be acceptable in any way.
Now that Harry has gone solo, I believe that he has significantly more control than he ever did then. He could have gone in many different directions and he has definitely embraced a more open, ambiguous image, but I think it's hard for people to admit that he's also embraced a new role as a fantasy boyfriend. It's not the same as before, as he's able to be more ambiguous about his sexuality and with his clothing, but he markets his music as being about women, he publicly dates only women, and he takes actions to appeal to the female gaze. I often see people talk about how Harry isn't trying to appeal to women because he doesn't fully embrace a stereotypically masculine look, but as I've seen discussed more and more often lately, those stereotypically masculine looks actually appeal more to the male gaze. This article talks about that. Many men think women are attracted to intimidating, uber macho men, but a lot of women are actually often attracted to men like Harry who are in touch with their feminine side. When Harry is shirtless and sweaty in a music video but also not afraid to wear feminine clothing or to talk about his feelings, that DOES appeal to women. They do find that sexy and attractive, and Harry and his team know that and they play to it when they can.
This role isn’t the only one that Harry embraces now that he's solo, but it is something that he and his team have chosen to do. After so many years of us defending Harry against a womanizer image that took things way too far at a young age while Harry was still figuring himself out, that can be a tough pill to swallow. However, we have to realize that both things can exist in the same universe. Harry can have been uncomfortable with where the womanizer image that he was given at age 16 when he had little power to change it and also choose to embrace a kind of fantasy boyfriend role now that he's a solo artist, older, more comfortable with his sexuality, and able to make decisions for himself. He can take control of a narrative that previously harmed him and use it to benefit him and to sell more music, more merch, and more tickets.
When Harry stunts with women, even when he's very convincing (like with Kendall on the yacht when she was laying on top of him and kissing him, or with Olivia on the yacht recently where they were dancing and kissing), you see people claim that it's a "gay yacht" or that he seems miserable even when he doesn't. Do I believe both are absolutely PR relationships and not genuine? Yes. Do I believe that Harry acted convincingly as someone interested in women in both instances? Yes. I think part of the reason why yachtgate with Kendall was so upsetting to me at the time because even though I never believed it was genuine, it LOOKED genuine, and I’d never thought Harry could pull that off. I think part of the reason why the Olivia yacht stuff didn’t bother me at all is because at this point, I do believe Harry can convincingly appear to be interested in women, even if he’s also interested in men, and so when he did, I was fine with it and didn’t feel threatened by it. It’s the same thing with Harry’s acting in DWD where a lot of Larries tried to claim he was unconvincing after seeing a two second clip of him making out with a woman. I thought he looked fine, as did most of the random people who watched that clip, and it did not threaten my beliefs about Harry because I recognize that he can be convincing in heterosexual roles and it doesn’t impact whether he likes men or not or whether he’s in a relationship with Louis or not.
Now don’t get me wrong - I don’t think he’s convincing in every instance, not even in every instance with Olivia or Kendall, but I’m just saying that I think he can play the role with them when he wants to. I don’t think he appeared uncomfortable in either instance. And I think when you admit that and acknowledge it, it’s easier to be a fan because you’re not living in denial and trying to act like Harry is DISGUSTED by these women and could never in a million years convince anyone he’s attracted to them, or attracted to women in general.
I don’t know if Harry is attracted to women, but based on his behavior and the types of things he writes in recent years, I do believe that it’s a possibility. I know I’m in the minority on that, just as I am with most of my beliefs, but even if people don’t agree with me, I feel like it’s really important that people realize that your existence as a Larrie should not be so rooted in Harry only liking men that your theories are all threatened or you’re enraged by a comment about a song being about female orgasms when they’ve been clear about that since day one. Harry can like women and still like men. Harry can like women and still be with Louis. Harry can write a sexual song about women and still like men. Harry can write a sexual song about women with numerous co-writers and still be with Louis. These things are not mutually exclusive, and when you treat them like they are, that’s when the denial starts and that’s when people start getting angry and upset with Harry over something that is not a big deal.
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Misc. Claire Nuñez Headcanons (In no particular order):
She takes self-defense classes at the same place Barb takes Krav Maga; they don’t often see each other, but sometimes one of them will be leaving a class, as another is about to start hers
She knows CPR and keeps her certification up to date as necessary
She has worked as a life-guard at the local YMCA
After the world is finally saved for the last time, I also think she’d look into working at a summer camp with Jim
When she was a young kid, around the ages of 7-10, she would check out plays from the library, learn every single part, and then put them on for her parents
There are recordings of these, and Javier likes to show them to every guest he possibly can, much to Claire’s embarrassed chagrin
She doesn’t play video games as much as Toby does, but she also plays them more than Jim does
She prefers PC MMORPGs in the fantasy genre, and before her magic was unlocked, she would always play as a sorceress
After getting her powers, she plays as rogues
She, Mary, and Darci all play TTRPGs as well, trading off who DMs for each new adventure
She wasn’t supposed to, but she had a secret Myspace account, on which she would post music lyrics
Claire gets A’s in all of her classes, except for history, in which, while Jim is not top of the class either, he always still just barely edges her out of the grading curve
She still gets an A- in history, so she’s not as angry as she would normally be, but it definitely does annoy her a little
She can pick locks; not for stealing or breaking into places, but just because she thought having that skill would impress people and make her seem cool and mysterious
Her favorite book series is The Hunger Games even though science fiction is her second-favorite genre (behind fantasy) but it’s because she really likes the anti-establishment/protest messages, and always resents the marketing team for the series, for making it about Peeta vs. Gale, rather than focusing on the fact that Katniss is an example of how citizens can influence real systemic change
As she grows older, she and her mother fight less about her career, and more about how the world of politics is corrupt
She’s proud of her mom, of course, for being an honest politician, and for trying to fight that corruption, but she also thinks change happens with the people
As such, she’s also been to a variety of protests in her lifetime
The only reason she seems like the “reasonable” one in the trio of Trollhunters is that Jim and Toby share one brain cell, whereas she gets her own sometimes; it is stolen frequently, though
She is actually very chaotic in her own right (see: breaking into her suspicious friend’s house because he’s been acting weird, and then her friends not even being surprised that she did that)
She also loved Animorphs and Warrior Cats as a tween
Her favorite Scooby-Doo movie is The Witch’s Ghost, but after being possessed by Morgana, it hits a little too close to home
Her favorite Disney movie is either The Hunchback of Notre Dame, Mulan, or The Beauty and the Beast
She eventually learns lightning magic
Claire and Ms. Janeth aren’t quite on the level of Strickler and Jim’s relationship to each other, because Claire does have a mom who she loves dearly, but she also spends a lot of time with Janeth outside of classes, and as such, they’ve grown to be each other’s favorite teacher/student
When they’re alone, in fact, Claire feels comfortable enough to call her Lenora
Ms. Janeth has offered to babysit for Claire, if she ever feels overwhelmed
Claire is a great actor, but is also a very excellent stage manager (read: is also a very scary stage manager)
Claire tried to learn how to skateboard, but stopped after she realized that she likes roller skating much better
When she’s older, she enters roller derbies
She also keeps her javelin skills up to date, and practices frequently because “you never know when you might need them”
She’s the one who proposes to Jim
Whenever they watch Cinderella, she teases him for the fact that in their case, Jim was the Cinderella (leading a double life), while she was the Prince Charming
She went through an “I’m not like other girls” phase, but Ophelia sat her down one day and talked her through why she felt that way, and why that mindset is ultimately detrimental to both her and other girls
She teaches Jim the anti-aging magic so that she doesn’t have to outlive him
(She also offers to teach it to Toby, but he politely declines)
She promises to help Douxie and the Order teach more magic-users, to try and fix some of the Balance
Claire, Darci, and Mary still meet for brunches as adults, and eventually, they start to invite Zoe, Barbara, and Nana along
That little star projector in Enrique’s room? Claire had one too, and every so often, she still uses hers to fall asleep, on particularly stressful nights
She even takes it to her and Jim’s first apartment
She studies criminal justice and theater in college
#god i have so many of these#i could keep going for ages but i will stop here slkdfj#if y'all want more tho feel free to come into my inbox and ask for like general hcs or gimme a topic and i will do my best lol#trollhunters#toa#tales of arcadia#claire nuñez#headcanons#ok to rb
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Sam and Dean: psychological analysis and headcanons
In response to this anon ask from the 66 SPN Questions:
6. Do you have any psychological headcanons (or canon interpretations) of the characters?
Anon, this is probably not what you asked for. But I started writing, and kept finding more I wanted to say, until I thought--why not just say it all? And by all, I don't actually mean all--this is by no means exhaustive. But it was a wonderful, self-indulgent opportunity to organize my thoughts on Sam and Dean's psychologies, and even find some new ideas as I was writing, and to put them out there so others can read and discuss. (Always happy to discuss any of this! Inbox is open.)
As a disclaimer, I know most of these thoughts are probably not original and may be retreads of many things fandom has been discussing for years. I'm not claiming to be breaking new ground here. Also, I sorta float backwards and forwards chronologically in my discussion--some parts pertain more to them when they're young, some to when they're older, and I don't always clarify which. Also, these are generalizations! I point out patterns I notice; that doesn't make them all hard and fast rules, because Sam and Dean are each human and complex!
Here's what you'll find below:
1. Core motivations 2. Happiness 3. Approval and secrets 4. Approval from authority figures 5. Need and attachment re: others 6. Sympathy and empathy 7. Walls—hiding vs. performing 8. Need and attachment re: each other 9. Ambitions and goals 10. Normality and monstrosity 11. Guilt and self-loathing 12. Autonomy and sacrifice 13. Personal identity 14. Concluding observation
1. Core motivations: Dean’s purpose is to protect Sam, obviously. Sam’s purpose, though a little less clear, is to save Dean. Sometimes it’s explicit, as in s3 and s9-10. But I think Sam also wants to save Dean, in general, from himself and from the life. It’s why he pushes against Dean’s obedience to their father. It’s why he tells him to get out and go to Lisa after he jumps in the Cage. At a certain point, I think Sam accepts he can’t “save” Dean without changing who he is, so he chooses to stick by him—because at least then he can make Dean happy.
2. Happiness: Dean’s happiness—or perhaps contentment is a better word—is knowing that Sam is safe and alive. Sam’s happiness is Dean being happy. In Sam’s world, things are good when Dean’s good. I think that, conversely, Dean wants Sam to be happy, and Sam wants Dean to be safe, but they both know and to an extent accept that those things are not within their control, so they focus on what they feel they can control.
3. Approval and secrets: They are each other’s north stars, guiding principles, in different ways. For Dean it’s “look out for Sammy,” for Sam it’s “what would my big brother think/do.” Dean doesn’t need Sam’s approval. Sure, he loves it when Sam admires him, but if he feels he needs to do something against Sam’s approval, he doubles down because approval from Sam is not the top priority. He’ll do what he thinks is right, especially to keep Sam safe, no matter what Sam thinks about it. Sam, on the other hand, does crave Dean’s approval and cares very much about his opinion. It doesn’t mean he won’t go against Dean (all the conflict of s1-5!), but it affects him differently. This leads to different kinds of secret-keeping: Sam goes behind Dean’s back to avoid his disapproval; Dean goes behind Sam’s back so that Sam doesn’t interfere with what he thinks needs to be done.
4. Approval from authority figures: Dean does crave approval from others—specifically, respected authority figures. The big one is obviously John. I think in a way it’s Mary, too, when she comes back. But it only applies as long as the person has his respect. Sam doesn’t crave approval from other authorities in the same way, perhaps because his primary authority figure growing up was Dean.
5. Need and attachment re: others: Sam is the only person Dean cannot live without, but he also makes outside connections of a friendly nature fairly easily. He’s the more socially outgoing brother who latches onto people like Gordon, gets friendly with Ash, and forges connections with Jo and Charlie, just to name a few (and Castiel at times—though their relationship is so inconsistent and often convenience-based I hesitate to include it in this category). Though Sam is Dean’s core need, I do think Dean thrives with other friendships. I’m not talking about found family, though I’m well aware of Dean’s tendency to call people “family” quite readily. Honestly, I think this is a manifestation of his craving for connection with others. Dean has an affectionate and playful nature, and let’s face it, Sam isn’t always super receptive to that—so naturally, Dean seeks out people who are. (I think this is also, in some cases, related to Dean’s craving for approval from others). Of course, none of those other relationships come close to the depth of his relationship with Sam, and when his relationship with Sam is at its best, I don’t think Dean really needs anything else to sustain him. But in reality, it can’t always be at its best.
Sam, on the other hand, doesn’t forge outside connections easily—but when he does, they tend to be deeper than Dean’s easy casual associations (even when Dean has real affection for someone, he tends to keep the tone of the relationship light). It’s pretty clear Sam was a loner kid, and I imagine it took him a while to find friends at Stanford, and even though he loved Jessica he still clearly kept many secrets. That’s the thing with Sam—he’s got walls. Dean’s got his own walls, but they’re different. Sam can seem emotionally open, but he protects his innermost self very carefully and rarely puts his emotions out there in a truly open way—even less than Dean does. I think this is a consistent personality trait for Sam, not one born of trauma (though perhaps exacerbated by it at times). In fact, it’s in later seasons that I see Sam finally, in rare moments, let down those walls, with Rowena and Jack. When he’s young, I think this was partially a coping mechanism he developed for hiding his desires/feelings, even from himself, because he was so unhappy with his life. It means that even though he’s an introspective guy, he’s not as self-aware as he thinks he is until he’s older and more mature. He’s very good at self-deception when he’s young, because as a thinker, he can convince himself of just about anything.
To circle back to attachment, what this means to me is that Sam, while he certainly appreciates close friendships and has a lot to offer those he cares about, doesn’t crave friends in the way that Dean does. I think he desires to be understood (this is a natural human need) but he’s much more comfortable with himself than Dean is, and is somewhat of a loner by nature. This means he’s also not (usually) going to be too affected by the status of his relationships with others. Dean is much more volatile and easily hurt by others (this is where Castiel is a great example).
6. Sympathy and empathy: On the surface, Sam appears to be the caring, sensitive brother, while Dean is brash and insensitive. This is a very incomplete picture, however. It mostly comes down to the difference between sympathy and empathy. Empathy is an involuntary response, whereas sympathy is something that a person chooses to express, though that doesn’t make it necessarily superficial—it also comes from an emotional place. Dean tends to be more empathetic, and Sam more sympathetic. Dean, despite his performative walls, is more easily affected on a visceral level by others’ emotions. He is more sensitive, more easily hurt or swayed to anger, and also more easily experiences empathy. This has nothing to do with what Dean thinks is right—it’s another involuntary emotion. He is sometimes moved to express this feeling, but he’s not generally concerned about appearing sympathetic. Sam, with his careful emotional walls, isn’t generally so viscerally affected by others, but he is kind. This is expressed as sympathy, because he cares about others’ feelings, and he wants to be good/morally right. On the one hand, it comes from an intellectual place—“it’s socially acceptable/morally right to express care for this person” (which Dean is less likely to care about)—and on the other, it is an emotional response—“I know what that feels like”—but a more regulated one than empathy, where one almost directly experiences another’s emotions.
7. Walls—hiding vs. performing: It’s interesting that both brothers have their own walls, which they construct as a form of self-preservation, but they have different levels of effectiveness in protecting themselves from outside influence. One difference might lie in what the walls were built in reaction to. Sam built his walls at a young age to separate himself from the outside world because, ironically, it was precisely what he desired, but was not allowed to have. He therefore consciously distanced himself from it, to dull the pain of not having it. The goal of those walls was to have something to hide behind, where he could remain generally unnoticed, so he could conceal his pain from outsiders and even from his family.
Dean took a little longer to build his walls—or at least to consciously do so. He already no doubt fashioned himself after his dad as a kid, and often put on a brave face—for Sam, for his father—when he was not feeling brave. He therefore became accustomed to performing at a young age, and performed many roles for both Sam’s and John’s benefit. He was unconsciously building walls with these performances, concealing his true feelings and desires. Later, I think this started to become more intentional, especially in relations with women/sex partners and especially after the Stanford split, as Dean realized how vulnerable to hurt his sensitive nature made him. It was much safer to perform all the time, and never let his real feelings show. For Dean, even more than Sam, I think he often lost sight of what those real feelings were behind the walls as he tried his best to be the performance he was putting on.
For a visual metaphor, I think of it this way: Sam is a boy at the center of a self-constructed labyrinth. He is almost always able to maintain control over how close people get (except when a few slip past his defenses, at which point he may be susceptible to manipulation). Despite all those elaborate passageways, though, there’s still Sam at the center. It’s lonely there, but he knows himself pretty well at least. Dean is a man in a mask who wants the mask to be his real face. He does everything he can to fuse himself and the mask together. They probably are fused at this point, so it would hurt to take the mask off. His memory of the face under the mask is hazy. He’s afraid, if he looks under the mask, he’ll hate what he sees. He’s lonely because no matter how close others get—and he lets them in close, can surround himself with people—none of them will ever see his true face. But he’s convinced himself it’s better this way, because if anyone saw his face, they’d hate it.
8. Need and attachment re: each other: Clearly, both brothers need each other. Sam’s need for Dean is different than Dean’s need for Sam, though. The way I see it, Dean’s need is one that requires reassurance. Perhaps it traces back to the concern about Sam instilled into him at a young age. I think it was strongly exacerbated by the Stanford split, when Dean realized his and Sam’s desires didn’t align. In Dean’s mind, Sam left once and can do it again—he’s always waiting for the other shoe to drop. Sam, on the other hand, has always been able to rely on Dean as a rock, a constant in his life—to the point that, in a way, he takes it for granted when he’s younger. Not in a spoilt, ungrateful way, but in that way that we, as children, might take our parents for granted—they’re always going to be there, right? That’s why, on the few occasions where suddenly, Sam isn’t sure of Dean’s devotion, the rug is ripped out from under him and he’s completely adrift and distraught—seasons 4 and 8 come to mind. Sam needs to be the center of Dean’s universe. When he fears that that’s shifted, that Dean hates him or has chosen someone else over him, it turns Sam’s whole world upside down. For Dean, the fear is that Sam will leave, but it’s a constant, background worry. For Sam, the fear is that Dean will hate him, but since he can usually count on Dean to be obsessed with him, it only comes up now and again. Only Dean can truly hurt Sam, while Dean is vulnerable to hurt from others—though, as always, the deepest hurt can only come from Sam.
9. Ambitions and goals: Sam is the one with greater needs and ambitions outside the scope of their relationship. For Dean, if he’s got Sam and he’s got hunting, he’s content. His greatest accomplishments are taking care of Sam and saving people, and that’s all he needs. I see Sam as craving other sources of fulfillment, though—academic/lore study for its own sake (the pursuit of knowledge), and a leadership/mentorship role. I thought it was very fitting that Sam finds these in late seasons, with leading hunters against the BMOL, then leading the apocalypse AU hunters, then mentoring/nurturing Jack. Dean has always had (and needed) a mentor/leadership/nurturing role with Sam, but Sam also thrives when he’s able to step into that role for others.
10. Normality and monstrosity: I’m just going to link to this post rather than repeat myself.
11. Guilt and self-loathing: This is something they both struggle with and at times, are defined by, but it manifests differently. I think their Hell traumas exemplify their different brands of guilt: for Dean, it’s perpetrator’s guilt. He knows he did something terrible and feels he can never atone for his past actions. For Sam, it’s victim’s/survivor’s guilt. He may not have done anything wrong, but there’s a certain amount of self-blame, especially for perceived weakness. This is another theme for Sam; one of the main faults he sees in himself is weakness—too weak to save Dean from Hell for instance—and as a result tries to shoulder things alone (killing Lilith, Hallucifer, etc). Sam has a need to fix things, to prove to others and himself that he is capable. Dean, I think, sees his main fault as neediness, but really, it’s a deeply buried sense of innate worthlessness. He was taught from a young age that his brother’s life—not his own—was of the utmost value. He internalized that his life was only worthwhile if he could save others, and has trouble with the idea that he, himself, has value beyond what he can do for others.
12. Autonomy and sacrifice: The above leads Dean to have a very constrained sense of his own autonomy. In general, he values duty/loyalty to others over autonomy (although when it comes to cosmic beings, he’s all about free will—see this post if you want more thoughts on that, and Sam’s autonomy). Often, his desire to control others comes from a place of frustration when Dean feels they are neglecting duty/being selfish. I think partially duty towards others is really a deeply ingrained value for him, but there may also be some buried jealousy at play, in that Dean wishes he could act with more freedom, put himself first every once in a while, but doesn’t know how to. Sam tends to value autonomy over duty (this doesn’t mean he doesn’t believe in any sort of responsibility—he’s willing to sacrifice for the greater good, after all). This means he also tends to respect others’ autonomy, though we all know he can get plenty unhinged where his brother’s safety is concerned. The theme of Sam and autonomy has been talked to death so I’ll stop there, but you can click the link above if you want more.
13. Personal identity: One of Dean’s biggest struggles is with how much of his personal identity is received rather than self-determined. He is tasked with taking care of Sam and he is trained to be a hunter; these become the foundations of his identity. He says it himself: taking care of Sam is not just what he does but who he is. Then in season 3, his own subconscious mocks him for his lack of originality, styling himself and all he loves after his father, showing that this is a source of deep insecurity. This discomfort with himself contributes to his fear of being abandoned and left alone with himself. He doesn’t know who he is without Sam—or rather, is convinced he is nothing without Sam, which is why he fights so hard to keep him by his side. It also contributes to his general desire for friends, or better, family: people who won’t abandon him.
Later in the series, I think Dean has come to embrace his genuine self more. He’s nerdy and excitable and playful—and I don’t see this is as regression, but rather a healthy embracing of what makes him happy—not tastes inherited from his father. If it seems juvenile, it’s because it’s the first time in his life he’s allowed himself to express and explore these things. I think his relationship with hunting is also healthier; it’s no longer something he does because it’s the only thing that can give him worth. He does it because he believes it’s right and genuinely wants to help people. He has a more complete sense of self, and while it’s still totally tied up in Sam, he has gained some self-worth.
[I should note that basically everything I’ve written about Dean supports the headcanon that Dean has BPD—a headcanon I accepted after I realized this. For some more great writing on Dean and BPD, see this post by @venhedish.]
Sam has always known what he wanted for himself and rejected what was given to/allowed him. Wanting what he couldn’t have, from a young age, helped him develop an individual sense of self, not defined by others. I think it’s this difference in their sense of individual identity that leads some viewers to think that Dean loves Sam more than Sam loves Dean. He doesn’t, and losing Dean is just as huge a loss and a grief for Sam as losing Sam was for Dean. Dean is central to Sam’s life, and he can’t feel complete without him; however, his identity and every desire has never revolved as entirely around Dean as Dean’s has around him, so Sam has a foundational sense of self that even losing Dean can’t completely destroy. It’s what allows him to rebuild in grief and carry on (whereas I have no doubt Jensen’s right and Dean would waste away in the back of a pool hall without Sam). Dean’s central role in Sam’s life never disappears, though, and it is, in fact, what allows Sam to carry on; an effort to honor his brother’s memory, living in a way that would make him proud. There’s continuity in that for Sam; the craving for his brother’s approval and happiness never disappears. Seeking those things is what makes Sam happy, both in their domestic years together before Dean’s death and in the years after. They are both, after all, co-dependent!
14: Concluding observation: Sam and Dean have many similar issues, desires, and insecurities: the desire for a normal life, the fear of their own monstrosity, the desire for love and friendship, their need and love for each other, their desire for approval/to be admired, resentment at their childhood, the feeling of being impure and unworthy, the desire for freedom, issues with bodily autonomy. Sometimes these are seen as the purview of one brother or the other exclusively, but that’s almost never true when you consider canon as a whole. The difference is in how these things are internalized, sublimated, reflected, and expressed for each of them. It makes sense they would struggle with so many of the same things, because their lives are deeply intertwined and they are in the same boat most of the time.
#spn meta#sam meta#dean meta#sam and dean#winchester brothers#my meta#the brodependency#long post#spn
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