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the-batacombs · 8 months

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Thinking about Jason. I don't know why, he hasn't had a serious turn in my head yet, I guess. Also the half-argument from...Batman 137? where they're yelling about like, death and crime and utilitarianism -- that got stuck in my head.

Anyway it lines up with this other issue I have with DC comics, which is that the way they write Batman sometimes feels...deeply hypocritical? Other heroes kill people and fight violent criminals but aren't enmeshed in a deep dark tragic space where they're always apparently two steps away from turning into a deeply immoral/abusive/totalitarian figure. But future/AU Batmen are routinely stuck in this box. As far as I can tell, the potential reasons are

(a) there's something wrong with Gotham. (This is what's happening in the current 'Tec run, I think, and exists in all the "Gotham eats her children" headcanons.)

(b) Gotham's villain-hero landscape is uniquely disturbing and eats away at the souls of its participants. (??? I guess? This feels silly unless it's explained by (a), and fairly boring as a basis for storytelling, at least to me.)

(c) Bruce Wayne is has a uniquely sensitive empathetic response, and is probably really poorly suited to a life with this much violence, and all of it just hits him harder than it does the other heroes; people like Bruce tend to self-select out, and Bruce is just stubborn.

Wonder Woman kills people and the WW writers don't throw themselves all over the page talking about how Wonder Woman is going to succumb to a life of violence and trauma. (I mean, maybe sometimes they do. I'm woefully under-read on WW, but I'm confident enough in this assertion to put it here. Corrections welcome!)

So like...what's up with Batman? Future!Batman!Tim and future!Batman!Damian get this treatment as well, sometimes, and that's also baffling -- because Bruce Wayne, so far, hasn't succumbed to the kind of deeply immoral/abusive/totalitarian figure that DC likes to portray as just lurking around the corner. Is he uniquely able to withstand the pressure of the role? (Well, Bruce and Dick Grayson, of course.)

And with Jason...I do get Bruce's position. A death is a death is a death and at its heart (thank you Kingdom Come), Bruce is just trying to make it so that no one dies. Jason has a utilitarian point, as is sketched out in Batman 137, but it seems clear the actual issue is simply that his ethical position is different from Batman's. Jason thinks a death can be justified; Bruce doesn't.

(Are there any Cass and Jason comics? Because I would love love to see a Cass "ripped the bat off of Kate's costume" Cain and a Jason Todd ideological clash.)

(Why are Cass and Jason on the same side of Gotham War? DC, did you think this through?)

But, see: Batman works with Wonder Woman. Batman adores Wonder Woman. He may disagree with her methods, but that doesn't prevent Trinity team-up after intergalactic mission after them all showing up in each other's comics. So why are Batman and the Red Hood constantly at each other's throats? / Or -- why does DC seem to act as if there is no solution? / Why can't Batman work alongside the Red Hood? Some thoughts:

(a) The paternalism issue; Bruce considers himself uniquely responsible for Jason's actions, and his stepping aside as condoning them. The feels like an easy solution: Bruce Wayne's kid is not a kid anymore. He can make his own decisions.

(b) Gotham again. What other people do in other cities is their own business, but Gotham is Batman's city and he's not going to stand by and let Gothamites be killed. (Counterpoint: Kate? I haven't read any Batwoman but the extent to which DC keeps these separate is wild.)

(c) Jason refuses to consider a team-up without Batman's concession to his methods/refuses to change his methods in the interests of temporary peace. (Valid as an interpersonal stance but I thought we did this already in Urban Legends? Maybe not.)

Anyway I don't have a solution to this yet but I'm pretty sure Wonder Woman is the key. It'll probably come out as a fanfic by the end of the year; I've got a title already, so it had better.

#jason todd #red hood #robin ii #batman #bruce wayne #wonder woman #I'm literally just thinking aloud here #everyone acts like it's impossible to solve and someone has to cave but I don't think that's exactly it #it's like -- yeah do I think they're going to come around to the same page? no. do I want them to? also no.#but do I think they could reconcile? yes.#I want them to both maintain their positions and have their primary conflict change and develop #rather than rehashing the shape of the same fight again and again #I'm also not as well-read as a lot of you #I'm working on it but it's slow #so if I say something demonstrably wrong you're welcome to provide a correction #anyway opinions change and all and I might have a different perspective in eight months but I've been thinking about this a fair amount #lately

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fromtheseventhhell · 1 year

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I sent someone an anon about this a couple months ago, but the arc I was expecting for Sansa was more along the lines of Cordelia Chase from Buffy The Vampire Slayer, like basically when Cordelia is introduced to the show at the beginning of BTVS she is a selfish, materialistic, cruel, classist bully, but over the course of BTVS and especially ATS she grown into a kinder, more caring, and compassionate person and genuinely comes to regret her past behaviour. I was kind of expecting an arc like this for Sansa, but it never happens? Like book Sansa experiences very little growth in the books, and I’m not even going to get into show Sansa, the development of her character is incredibly disappointing and you can tell GRRM didn’t really know what to do with her.

I could have definitely seen that happening for her arc. I think the main reason she has stagnated in that area is that George intends for Arya and Sansa to work their issues out on page, rather than just having them reconcile immediately when they reunite. I mentioned in a previous ask that I didn't think he had a solid idea of what he was doing with her character, but I'm not sure that's exactly it. It's more that fandom has decided that Sansa's character is something different than what he's actually writing for her. He created her as a foil for Arya and to cause conflict, and I think he still sees that as part of her purpose. There's the only thing that makes sense to me. He put her in the perfect situation to reflect on her own classism and grow. Instead, we just get a reminder that she still thinks like that. She thinks even pretending to be a bastard is beneath her and gets incredibly upset at being called one; yet she doesn't reflect at all on her attitude towards Jon, Mya, or any other low-born character. Given how George has written other characters confronting their flaws or wrongful attitudes, this comes across as very intentional.

I do think there could still be time for Sansa to have that kind of growth, but it would most likely happen after the Stark sisters' conflict plays out. I don't think it's a coincidence that their conflict is somewhat rooted in classism, with Sansa's dissatisfaction with Arya being that she doesn't act like a high-born Lady. While Arya begins the story as someone sympathetic to the smallfolk and then goes through a journey where she witnesses their experiences first-hand, Sansa stays relatively in a high-born bubble and doesn't confront any of her prejudices. George has mentioned before that they have issues they need to work out and I think he's created the perfect setup for it.

#ask #daenerysthevampireslayerr #anti sansa stans #the more I think about it and go through my reread I do think Grrm stills intends for the sisters to foil each other and have a conflict #I think when they reunite though it's going to be on a larger scale then it was previously #it could potentially be something about Robb's will and/or Winterfell's succession...the material is there for a stark succession crisis #I'm also in the camp who believes it's possible they never fully reconcile and become close 🤷🏾‍♀️#assigned Sansa anti because I said she was classist and pointed out she was Arya's foil (both facts of the book but what does that matter?)#when we get twow (yes WHEN) we'll have a better idea of where he's taking her character

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0xo · 4 months

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had a funny moment the other day where my wife said "we should maybe buy some powdered milk?" (because it's useful for baking and cooking and when you run out of real milk)

and i said "eughhh, i know it's fine but it reminds me of being very little and very poor," (which is true, i drank it a lot as a kid, takes me directly back to stale-fresh-constant cigarette smoke of my grandparents' house - they're both dead now, crazy - isn't it funny how there's always cigarette money but never milk money?)

and she said "babe, we ARE poor." (and my wife isn't wrong but i don't think it's the same kind. we don't walk to the dollar general for all the groceries we buy. or rely on our twenty-two year old daughter with three jobs to bring us the rest. and she only does that to make sure we feed her toddler that we're watching, because we're the closest thing to free childcare she has access to, even though she wishes her baby wasn't in that smoky smoky falling-down house. but she's poor, because we birthed her poor and raised her poor and gave her nothing but all kinds of hunger. so she'll take what's free and hope we don't leave the baby hungry too. and it's not free cuz the groceries add up. and she'll keep bringing groceries, even after the baby's in school and she's got just the one better job. and daycare those five years might've been cheaper, all told. isn't it funny how there's always so much for an eldest daughter to give you? even when she's a mother too?)

anyways. i know powdered milk is a baking staple and i don't mind it mixed into things but i will never have a glass of powdered milk again. it tastes like marlboro ashes.

#haha this was meant to be a quick funny post about being broke in your twenties #but it turned into reflecting on my childhood and realizing what my mother was doing at my age #and just being angry for her.#some things about my early life i remember fondly - sewing lessons! unlimited computer access from age 3 because i could read!)#i don't mind having grown up poor. i don't. but i fucking. hate being reminded of why things were that way.#cigarettes and weed over food for the kids every time every time. for my aunts and uncles and me too.#were they broke for other reasons? yes of course. of course.#and my mama was poor because she couldn't go to school and had ME. and she carried me and my deadbeat loser ass bio dad for two years #before she found my dad (the good one) and even still. we were hungry for a while.#i don't know how to process the grief of losing my grandmother and reconcile it with my adult view of how she enabled my grandfather #bc it stemmed from him and. and. and im glad he's dead. but he ruined her life.#and they both dragged my mama down and still do.#i don't know. i just don't like powdered milk.#also i don't consider us poor. maybe we are but... eh. i think it's more like broke #broke and poor is two different things

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thedeadthree · 1 year

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Tattoo?

hi ! thank you so much for the ask ! i'll do this the girlies lila and lucy <3

🎸 ★ INFAMOUS OC ASKS.

🎸 ★ TATTOO: did they keep the tattoo with seven’s initials? why/why not? what was that decision/execution process like? (bonus: what do they think of seven keeping their tattoo?)

LILIA — she did! though i will say that likely post game she'll have it removed! once she realizes her feelings for griffin are in fact real feelings and not just the idea of being with him being alluring to lila, or of him loving her and what that did for her all-encompassing need to be loved. lilia realized it was damaging to them both to keep to the idea she loved him when she didnt u know? (ideally i want them to end things as friends teehee!). the ploy with the tattoo and the affair backfired when she fell in love with griffin jsnhajk and i think that even in spite of how their relationship ended they were friends once? and for that none of the games she was playing were fair to him or either of them? and so! thus after things she has it removed!

LUCINDE —and she did as well ! though more so for the fact she still loved him VERY VERY u know? and for her she couldnt bring herself to? she felt a LOT of guilt about how things ended, and despite the urgence of her older sibling and people in her life, she still couldn't do it? she held out for the idea things would be right between them again u know? she felt a mix of emotions seeing the tattoo? relief, crippling guilt, confusion (like "he hates me hates us hates the idea of us? why?" u know?), it was a whole thing ! but it as a whole yield a sliver of hope for the better, that maybe he hasnt given up on them after all <;3.

#🐊: jade #varricandhawke #thank you so so much for the ask this was so cute to do !#oc: lilia laurent #oc: lucinde lau #local nepo baby on tour with her bands favorite band and her ex learns the consequences of her actions more at 11 :')#and yea ! she has it removed as having it was only to get back at someone she cared about once? like they were friends once !#i mean i could also see her keeping it too? because though she learns her feelings were more for the idea of his feelings #and that her returned feelings were because of that as friends she would want to keep it?#but also with her in a new relationship with griffin i very see as well her wanting to move on though?#lucy has an older sib ! theyre her voice of reason sort of legal guardian and a co writer with her and the band ! theyre lovely!#they figured if things were over why keep it? (thats also luxs' way of thinking to why she removes it as well ! <3)#she was VERY holding onto the hope that they would reconcile AT THE VERY LEAST as friends ? if anything u know?#i wanted to do more and do the rest of the dears for this but alas ✨ leg has ye olde migraine ✨#leg.txt #leg.ocs #leg.asks #ty ty to ash for this cutest banner template that is still my go to ! <3

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joycrispy · 9 months

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I wanna talk about The Angel Who Would Be Crowley.

Because I had a certain set of expectations, which got thoroughly trashed in the first five minutes of S2, and my genuine response is, "Oh, fuck, yup. You're right. That's WAY better."

Looking around at GO fandom, I'm not alone in this. So let's talk about it.

Basically, a lot of people (myself included) believed that he was a high-ranking angel, and therefore as chilly and remote as every other powerful angel we'd seen at that point. We pictured Crowley-To-Be as long-haired, regal and imposing --and the fanart at the time reflected this. I'd link some if Tumblr didn't hate links.

Something like this:

We were collectively drawing on a few things --mostly, Crawly's appearance and general bearing in the Biblical scenes of S1--

--But also scattered hints of his importance, backed up by conspicuous absences in Heaven and a few profound displays of power. That's all better covered elsewhere, so I won't reiterate the arguments here. All I'm saying is: I think our headcanons were justified.

But it turns out he was this:

!!!

With his curly little--!!

And his neat white--!!

IT TURNS OUT, he was an angel who squeaked and squealed when he was happy; who flailed his arms around and made explosion noises with his mouth to explain nebulas; who preened when told his stars were pretty. Furfur, who knew him before the Fall, says:

"You used to jump on me back, little monkey in a waistcoat..."

(The use of a diminutive there, 'little'...oh, that fascinates me.)

In a pretty huge subversion of expectations, we're given these glimpses of an angel who was sweet, and joyful, and heart-meltingly silly.

In sum...an innocent.

(Perhaps innocent to a troubling degree.

We see how he troubles Aziraphale, during their first conversation. He starts looking around and behind them, checking to make sure that no one can HEAR the blithe and reckless things coming out of this angel's mouth. This angel who talks like he's never been reprimanded in his life; like it's never occurred to him that anyone would want to hurt him.

Before the Beginning, Aziraphale understood Heaven better than he did. The danger is plainly occurring to Aziraphale.)

So now, we the viewers are in on a cruel joke that Aziraphale has known all along, which is that this --THIS-- is the angel who--

*checks notes*

--did a million lightyear freestyle dive into a boiling pool of sulphur. For asking questions.

...Imagine you are Aziraphale, and everything inside you wants to believe Heaven are the Good Guys, and God is Good and Everything She does is capital-R Right...and now try to reconcile that. Keep trying. I don't think he ever totally managed it in 6000 years.

All this gets further complicated when we learn that, despite all of the above, we were still right. That sweet excitable babby up there?

He WAS a powerful and high-ranking angel.

That much is explicitly confirmed, with significant evidence that he could have been among the mightiest of archangels...

...Who apparently accosted his fellow angels for piggyback rides. And was remembered millennia later by those (now fallen) angels as something 'little.'

What does that tell us about who he was? Is?

Hell, Aziraphale has known to be wary of the archangels (and the judgements of Heaven in general) since before the Fall even happened. He chooses to believe they are Good; he can't fool himself into thinking they are Safe.

Yet he's absolutely certain that Crowley won't hurt Job's children. Enough to stand in a burning building and say to them, "I can't save you, but don't be afraid. I won't need to."

And what reason does he give?

("I know you."

"You do not know me."

"I know the angel you were.")

What does that tell us about who he was? Is?

("The angel you knew is not me."

But how is Aziraphale supposed to believe that, when he can see him all the time?)

tl;dr --yes, this is better. I love the tragedy of it.

'Innocence died screaming' and all that.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #Crowley #Aziraphale #good omens 2 #good omens meta

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inhonoredglory · 10 months

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Aziraphale’s Choice, the Job Connection, and Michael Sheen’s Morality

Update: Michael Sheen liked this post on Twitter, so I'm fairly certain there is a lot of validity to it.

I’ve had time to process Aziraphale’s choice at the end of Season 2. And I think only blaming the religious trauma misses something important in Aziraphale’s character. I think what happened was also Aziraphale’s own conscious choice––as a growth from his trauma, in fact. Hear me out.

Since November 2022 I’ve been haunted by something Michael Sheen said at the MCM London Comic Con. At the Q&A, someone asked him about which fantasy creature he enjoyed playing most and Michael (bless him, truly) veered on a tangent about angels and goodness and how, specifically,

We as a society tend to sort of undervalue goodness. It’s sort of seen as sort of somehow weak and a bit nimby and “oh it’s nice.” And I think to be good takes enormous reserves of courage and stamina. I mean, you have to look the dark in the face to be truly good and to be truly of the light…. The idea that goodness is somehow lesser and less interesting and not as kind of muscular and as passionate and as fierce as evil somehow and darkness, I think is nonsense. The idea of being able to portray an angel, a being of love. I love seeing the things people have put online about angels being ferocious creatures, and I love that. I think that’s a really good representation of what goodness can be, what it should be, I suppose.

I was looking forward to BAMF!Aziraphale all season long, and I think that’s what we got in the end. Remember Neil said that the Job minisode was important for Aziraphale’s story. Remember how Aziraphale sat on that rock and reconciled to himself that he MUST go to Hell, because he lied and thwarted the will of God. He believed that––truly, honestly, with the faith of a child, but the bravery of a soldier.

Aziraphale, a being of love with more goodness than all of Heaven combined, believed he needed to walk through the Gates of Hell because it was the Right Thing to do. (Like Job, he didn’t understand his sin but believed he needed to sacrifice his happiness to do the Right Thing.)

That’s why we saw Aziraphale as a soldier this season: the bookshop battle, the halo. But yes, the ending as well.

Because Aziraphale never wanted to go to Heaven, and he never wanted to go there without Crowley.

But it was Crowley who taught him that he could, even SHOULD, act when his moral heart told him something was wrong. While Crowley was willing to run away and let the world burn, it was Aziraphale (in that bandstand at the end of the world) who stood his ground and said No. We can make a difference. We can save everyone.

And Aziraphale knew he could not give up the ace up his sleeve (his position as an angel) to talk to God and make them see the truth in his heart.

I was messed up by Ineffable Bureaucracy (Boxfly) getting their happy ending when our Ineffable Husbands didn’t, but I see now that them running away served to prove something to Aziraphale. (And I am fully convinced that Gabriel and Beelzebub saw the example of the Ineffables at the Not-pocalypse and took inspiration from them for choosing to ditch their respective sides)

But my point is that Aziraphale saw them, and in some ways, they looked like him and Crowley. And he saw how Gabriel, the biggest bully in Heaven, was also like him in a way (a being capable of love) and also just a child when he wasn’t influenced by the poison of Heaven. Muriel, too, wasn’t a bad person. The Metatron also seemed to have grown more flexible with his morality (from Aziraphale's perspective). Like Earth, Heaven was shades of (light?) gray.

Aziraphale is too good an angel not to believe in hope. Or forgiveness (something he’s very good at it).

Aziraphale has been scarred by Heaven all his life. But with the cracks in Heaven’s armor (cracks he and Crowley helped create), Aziraphale is seeing something else. A chance to change them. They did terrible things to him, but he is better than them, and because of Crowley, he feels ready to face them.

(Will it work? Can Heaven change, institutionally? Probably not, but I can't blame Aziraphale for trying.)

At the cafe, the Metatron said something big was coming in the Great Plan. Aziraphale knows how trapped he had felt when he didn’t have God’s ear the first time something huge happened in the Big Plan. He can’t take a chance again to risk the world by not having a foot in the door of Heaven. That’s why we saw individual human deaths (or the threat of death) so much more this season: Elspeth, Wee Morag, Job’s children, the 1940s magician. Aziraphale almost killed a child when he couldn’t get through to God, and he’s not going through that again.

“We could make a difference.” We could save everyone.

Remember what Michael Sheen said about courage and doing good––and having to “look the dark in the face to be truly good.” That’s what happened when Aziraphale was willing to go to Hell for his actions. That’s what happened when he decided he had to go to Heaven, where he had been abused and belittled and made to feel small. He decided to willingly go into the Lion’s Den, to face his abusers and his anxiety, to make them better so that they would not try to destroy the world again.

Him, just one angel. He needed Crowley to be there with him, to help him be brave, to ask the questions that Heaven needed to hear, to tell them God was wrong. Crowley is the inspiration that drives Aziraphale’s change, Crowley is the engine that fuels Aziraphale’s courage.

But then Crowley tells him that going to Heaven is stupid. That they don’t need Heaven. And he’s right. Aziraphale knows he’s right.

Aziraphale doesn’t need Heaven; Heaven needs him. They just don’t know how much they need him, or how much humanity needs him there, too. (If everyone who ran for office was corrupt, how can the system change?)

Terry Pratchett (in the Discworld book, Small Gods) is scathing of God, organized religion, and the corrupt people religion empowers, but he is sympathetic to the individual who has real, pure faith and a good heart. In fact, the everyman protagonist of Small Gods is a better person than the god he serves, and in the end, he ends up changing the church to be better, more open-minded, and more humanist than god could ever do alone.

Aziraphale is willing to go to the darkest places to do the Right Thing, and Heaven is no exception. When Crowley says that Heaven is toxic, that’s exactly why Aziraphale knows he needs to go there. “You’re exactly is different from my exactly.”

____

In the aftermath of Trump's election in the US, Brexit happened in 2018. Michael Sheen felt compelled to figure out what was going on in his country after this shock. But he was living in Los Angeles with Sarah Silverman at the time, and she also wanted to become more politically active in the US.

Sheen: “I felt a responsibility to do something, but it [meant] coming back [to Britain] – which was difficult for us, because we were very important to each other. But we both acknowledge that each of us had to do what we needed to do.” In the end, they split up and Michael moved back to the UK.

Sometimes doing the Right Thing means sacrificing your own happiness. Sometimes it means going to Hell. Sometimes it means going to Heaven. Sometimes it means losing a relationship.

And that’s why what happened in the end was so difficult for Aziraphale. Because he loves Crowley desperately. He wants to be together. He wanted that kiss for thousands of years. He knows that taking command of Heaven means they would never again have to bow to the demands of a God they couldn’t understand, or run from a Hell who still came after them. They could change the rules of the game.

And he’s still going to do that. But it hurts him that he has to do that alone.

#good omens #good omens 2 #ineffable husbands #it's kinda like capt america: civil war #with Azi as Tony Stark: traumatized and trying to do the right thing #and Crowley being Steve Rogers: fuck the establishment let's go rogue #gos2spoilers #good omens meta #good omens 2 meta #go s2 #michael sheen #go s2 meta #go meta #*mine #*mymeta #ineffables husbands #ineffable soulmates #*mybest

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aplaceforstellasscribbles · 1 year

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Y'know, the plot of WATW relies heavily- you could say is constructed entirely- on the idea that everyone wants to see themself as a good person. No one is the villain of their own story.

Which can be super interesting when writing an unambiguously "evil" character, seeing how they justify and twist things around to frame their actions as morally correct.

It's also interesting when writing a character that isn't unambiguously "evil" or "good." When this person isn't deceiving themself into thinking their actions are good, when they're doing what they were taught is right, when they feel good about what they're doing- they think they're a good person because of course they are, look at all the good things they're doing, look at how kind and generous and thoughtful they are!

And then, maybe, you show them that their actions weren't as universally good as they thought they were, you show them that they hurt people.

What do they do then? How do they move forward from there?

#walk against the wind #watw #stella's story #some people would double down and insist they were right all along no matter the consequences #and others would take the new information and change based on it #i think that's the difference between someone who is good and someone who only wants to be #i just. i'm so fascinated by this concept #it did start out as me just trying to get into my antagonist's head- how would someone justify doing these things?#and then i wanted to figure out how to redeem him #and somehow i stumbled upon this and now it's incredibly important to me #not just in my story either #i started with a character that could at best be described as a selfish asshole with few redeeming qualities #and now i have a character i can easily describe as a man who's ignorant but doing his best. yes he's hurt people but he's a good man #and that's so important to me. that he's a good man. needs a little guidance. needs a little forgiveness. but he's good #in context it doesn't fit but i'm thinking of this one lyric from a taylor swift song #'no one teaches you what to do when a good man hurts you'#we've been taught that if someone hurts you they must be bad. they must be evil #but good people hurt each other all the time. how do we live with that? how do we reconcile that?#that's part of what watw is about #y'know between the blatant anti-monarchy anti-dictatorship anti-military anti-imperialism stuff #and next to the complex family relationships and rejection of amatonormativity

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lightwise · 3 months

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Omega is not okay

I know we've all been over the moon about Crosshair and Hunter's dynamic in The Return, but I want to draw some attention to Omega in this episode, and something that I think Joel Aron is trying to draw attention to with his lighting choices.

Omega is not okay.

Joel has made pointed out many times that he loves doing reveal lighting (think the overhead light in Crosshair's cell or on the freighter at the end of A Different Approach giving him a halo, or how Hunter stops short of the overhead light on the Marauder before stepping out to greet Omega). And throughout this whole episode, the light is breaking over Crosshair and bathing him in warmth more and more. He is slowly returning the light and coming home to his family.

Omega, however, in nearly every single scene in this episode, is in shadow.

Yes, her hairstyle is contributing to the fall of light on her face, and yes, she has her hat on while they're on Barton IV. But this is showing that her psychological state since they escaped Tantiss is uneasy, at best, and very conflicted and darkened, at worst. Even when she wakes up in the comfort and safety of the Marauder, she is shrouded in shadow. And even in scenes where the light wraps around and highlights Crosshair's face, Omega's is kept harshly defined, and she is often looking away from the "camera".

Even when we see her somewhat happier at points in this episode, usually due to watching her brothers reconnect, her face is not as well lit as theirs.

Omega kept her positivity and optimism at the forefront while she and Crosshair were in prison, and throughout most of their escape. It's what we most associate with her--being a ray of sunshine and encouragement for those around her. Now, however, she has the opportunity to relax a bit, for the adults to be handling certain things, and the trauma and perspective shift that she has just gone through is coming to the forefront.

Her survivors guilt, her shock at not being the only female clone, her confusion and questions over who she is and why she is so important, the cruelty she's seen Hemlock be capable of, and her continued empathy for anyone who is suffering is all swirling around in her in ways that she doesn't know what to do with yet. Yes, she has seen much suffering in the galaxy already in her short life, and has always been adamant about her need to help others. But ultimately it had never impacted her like this. Until now.

Crosshair has been broken and remade by his experiences. Omega is being broken and remade by hers as well. And I'm not sure the boys fully realize just how much yet.

Omega refuses to be left behind. She feels responsible for the fact that the rest of the clones are still on Tantiss. She feels guilty that she could have a chance at a life still and they don't. She feels an all-encompassing need to help them if she can, even though she is still young and vulnerable. This is ultimately going to conflict with Hunter's desires to keep her safe and hidden. Echo has already chosen the fight. Wrecker is willing to go wherever he's needed. Crosshair has been through too much to not be willing to fight back however necessary.

Hunter is going to eventually realize that while Omega is still a child, and does need to be protected, at the same time, her own sense of responsibility is going to eventually supersede his desires.

Echo and Crosshair especially will be able to understand some of what she is feeling and hopefully help guide her through it. Hopefully, Omega will be able to reconcile who she is, what she is capable of, and what is outside of her ability to fix, sooner rather than later. But it's safe to say she will never be the same after this. At least she has a little bit of reprieve before facing whatever is next.

#the bad batch #tbb #star wars #the bad batch spoilers #tbb spoilers #omega #omega bad batch #tbb omega #the return #tbb season 3 #the bad batch season 3 #the bad batch season 3 spoilers #tbb season 3 spoilers #some light edits #somelightedits #somelightramblings #some light ramblings

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my-castles-crumbling · 16 days

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"I'm having his baby- No, I'm not, but you should see your faces."

~ Taylor Swift (But Daddy I Love Him) Pairing: Jegulus - Rating: T - Trans!Reg

He wasn't sure what made him say it. Perhaps it was that he was sick of his parents' constant lecturing. Maybe he was feeling particularly rebellious. Reconciling with Sirius had had a horrible influence on his rule-following abilities. It could be that he just wanted to cause some drama.

But as they were once again going on and on about how he was to break up with James Potter, marry a nice traditional pureblood, stop his testosterone potions and become the child they expected him to be, he just snapped.

"Well, I'm pregnant," he said flatly, interrupting Walburga's insane ranting.

"You- what?" she asked, eyes bulging.

"Yes. Potter's knocked me up with his crazy, Muggle-loving bastard baby. So what now, Mother?" he asked, rubbing lightly at his stomach, fighting back a grin at the way she looked to be experiencing an aneurism. It was a lovely sight.

"Orion. What do we do?" she asked desperately, turning to her husband, who was still gaping like a fish out of water.

But, feeling quite done with the conversation, Regulus stood. "I'm not actually pregnant. If you'd bothered to pay attention to anything about my life at all, you would know my potions make it so I can't get pregnant. But I think I am leaving. Goodbye, Mother. Father."

And with that, he swept from the room, his mind already on the quickest way to get to Potter Manor.

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dhampling · 3 months

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the sunwalker's gift gn!reader, 3.3k

“What is all of this in aid of, anyway?” He asks in a lazy drawl, seemingly unbothered. “The adventuring stuff. Do we have a destination yet?”

inspired by this ask where the reader finds a ring - after a lot of searching - that allows astarion to walk in the sun, and proposes with it. enjoy! wc: 3.3k cw: none. gn reader, fluff, all good stuff. no use of y/n. like one vague reference to sex. that's it. liberties taken with the idea of the sunwalker's gift.

Tardy.

“Here then, yes?”

A gentle dirt path carries to the town boundary, the marker one of dry wood and old brandish. Windows of amber; smoke rising to the stars, a biting chill settling on the ground as gateclose approaches.

You turn the map in hand to compare against the settlement before you.

“Think so.”

Astarion takes your arm in his, leaving the map hanging free in his wake.

It takes all the will you can muster not to take his hands in yours and spin him in some sleepy glee-bound whirl in the sheer ecstasy at the thought of what you have planned - instead pulling each other something ragged down the slope in a half-step, half-cant; giddy at the thought of Firewine by a fireplace as your breath clouds the air foggy past your heads.

You’re in a position where - maybe for the first time since the Netherbrain fell - you can see the end.

And it’s close. Ridiculously close.

You want nothing more than to drop and do it now. Knees muddied in the dew-thickened dirt clod and breeze heavy with frost under the big pale moon - teeth chittering, looking up to him;-

Gods. You can picture it. His eyes hooplike with uncertainty, the one last drip of doubt teetering on his tongue - is this some kind of cosmic joke? - a quiet whisper under his breath, a little tilt of his head. Hair rippling in the moonlight. A moment of mutability as he reconciles all you are, all you’ve become together. That there’s a future in which sincerity is all he knows moving forward.

No.

Before morning, for sure.

The gate welcomes you in one last waning breath as the guards head to their watch turrets until dawn, and it takes a minute to truly come to terms with civilization once more. Your eyes flit to each of the little flickering lanterns and candles in windows; to the railings adorned with browning vines and disused terracotta pots.

It’s been months since you and Astarion have been somewhat settled anywhere. Since the Absolute fell and you set off for adventures beyond anything you or he could ever imagine. Navigating the Underdark together, treading darkness above ground; wherever, it wasn’t of any real importance. You’d find lodging where you could, eat with whoever welcomed you; and you did it together.

Of course, your ulterior motive has managed to remain a secret. From clandestine discussions with the Society of Brilliance all the way back to the Gate; to fevered exploration in the deepest chasms of Sembia. Nights spent looking over the ferryboats on the Sea of Fallen Stars and discussing so many different futures the two of you could live.

He is completely disarmed and unsuspecting at your side. Radiant. Hopeful. The world is changed and he wants to see every bit he passes with eyes wide open to good fortune.

“A town called Tardy? Really?”

He sneers.

You shrug.

“It has a fun ring to it. Tardy.”

The word bounces on your tongue as you taste the mull-soak set between your teeth.

A wordless mission to stave off the chill now has you settled fireside in the closest inn with mulled Glowfire. The clock ticks and there’s lively chatter a little behind you in the main tavern room.

“The Scoundrel's Cellar, though. Now that’s a good name.’

He takes a small sip.

‘Why Tardy?”

You turn your head to him with a tight quirk of your upper lip.

“You’re asking me why?”

“Not really.’

Astarion looks at you and smiles.

‘It’s just… nice. To be able to talk at such leisure like this, I think.”

His cheeks are ruddied by the lashings of wind, the hint of a twinkle in his eyes as he reveres you. Hair a little unruly in the mop of curls atop his head but still unbelievably well-kempt for a man who's been on the road for months now. Lost wholly in his sheer exuberance, his joy in living despite the lack of a pulse. His chalice is close to his chest as he warms his hands.

You daren’t linger on your own appearance, thinking a silent prayer that the bathroom has a mirror.

It’s a long moment before you reply.

“Yes! Yes. Absolutely.”

He throws you a quizzical glance but the smile doesn’t leave his face as he shifts to look down at his drink.

“I sometimes picture having a fireplace, you know. How-’

A brief pause.

‘How nice it’d be to sit by it, on an evening like this. Home.”

Astarion stretches a palm outward to the flame and closes his eyes, basking in the scalding heat. Amber shades. Pallid skin a perfect canvas.

“What would you be doing, by the fire?” You query softly as you watch the gentle flickers of his hand, outstretched.

“I- I’m not sure.”

Something resembling a coy smile creeps onto his face, overrun by a timid quiet uncharacteristic of your long-term lover. You lean over to him and take his nimble fire-warm hand in your own. A small kiss planted firmly on the hot skin.

“Go on.’

The willing smile on your face as you egg him on, chin to palm. He tilts his head coquettishly.

‘What do you see in that beautiful head of yours? Because I can see it now - a sitting room full of tapestries and hangings; all of your design, of course. Patchwork blankets. Big comfy seats.”

“Ugh. Fine. Yes.’

Any ill-mannered jest fades almost immediately as he looks into your eyes and beams once more. He is safe here. He knows it.

‘I’m thinking big seats. Maybe-’

He brings his arms out wide.

‘Maybe this big? Possibly bigger? Somewhere to lounge, naturally.’

His hand finds yours in the low light once more, a tentative clutch as he maps out the vision in his head.

‘Soft carpets on stone floors. Incense - none of the dull stuff though, darling; only pure patchouli - and… and lanterns with glass of all colours, so the room glows with light constantly.”

“So we’ve set the scene. Then what?”

Astarion rolls his eyes at you fondly.

“And then… I don’t know. A little cat on the cushions. Books, papers scattered on the carpet as despite the fact we have those big comfy seats; I’m not seeing myself to be inclined to move Her Majesty.”

“After the cat at the Last Light?”

“The very same. But I want a girl cat. Boy cats feel… weird to me. Cats are girls.’

He grimaces and waves his chalice-hand.

‘Anyway. Her Majesty on the lounger, me on the floor. I’m drawing up patterns early into the morning. Big, thick shutters over the windows; but it doesn’t matter because the lantern light is so vivid, and you;-’

There’s a feather-soft look to him when he does look at you.

‘Oh, you.’

You become aware of him drawing small circles with his thumb, eyes unmoving; unblinking.

‘Always you. My love. Should you decide to join me in long-term domesticity-’

He plants a kiss on your hand as you did his. Your stomach is pure cream as you listen, nodding slowly with lids of honey.

‘Then you. Everywhere. Beside me on the carpet, laughing in that delicious way you do. Astride me in our bed -’

You smirk. He looks at you a little deviously.

‘Well, not just bed. Anywhere, really.”

“Is that what the loungers are for?”

A small grin.

“Maybe.’

You gesture for him to continue with a knowing grin.

‘Anyway. Yes. The future. Us. A townhouse somewhere in the Gate.” He sips slowly while pondering.

“What about younglings? You were fond of Yenna.”

The wine erupts down his pale chin in shock, eyes like saucers.

“I’m sorry?”

“Children.” You repeat, holding his gaze with firm affection.

He moves to laugh but there’s a wavering indecision in the way his brows crease.

“Is that even possible?”

“I don’t know. But if it is?”

He stops to think for a moment when the call for Grand High Lord Supreme General Admiral Ancunín - his favoured travelling name - comes from the frazzled barmaid at the front of house to signal your rooms are ready, and all discussion overruled by the fact you’re both bone-weary beyond belief.

As your hand moves to your pocket, you feel it.

Sequestered away in the little velvet box you bought from the Night Market months ago and kept for this.

Later.

Hours on and you’re settled. A small room with an adjoining washroom - modest, but surprisingly comfortable; and just as you’d hoped, there’s a balcony.

Astarion lounges on the bed with a large leatherbound book, looking fondly at you from time to time as you busy yourself with your recent findings, taking inventory and stashing bits away in their respectively labelled bags of holding.

“What is all of this in aid of, anyway?” He asks in a lazy drawl, seemingly unbothered.

“What?”

“This. The adventuring stuff. Do we have a destination yet?”

“No, not in particular.’ You turn to look at him over your shoulder.

‘Why? You’ve not been bothered before?”

“And I’m not now. But I am curious.’

He grins devilishly on the bed and flips the book closed, placing it next to him and sitting straight - legs crossed.

‘What’s the plan, lover?”

“Who says there’s a plan?”

He’s got you right where he wants you.

You feel yourself becoming giddy again - heart wholly aflutter. You’re aware that he’s attuned to the regular pitter-patter between your ribs and despite the conscious attempt to regulate yourself back to calm; you almost want him to find you out this way.

“Nothing. I’m just wondering where we’re - well, wandering. It’s beginning to feel a little aimless”

There’s a moment of silence, prolonged as you fiddle further with your trinkets.

“I-’

You reach for the box in your pocket and run a thumb over it reactively.

‘I’ll tell you later. I promise.”

He looks at you with a curious furrow, trying to eke out a little more information in the quiet din but you’re wise to it at this point in your relationship. You simply yield into his glance with a pleading smile.

“Okay. Okay. I’ll leave it with you. But I do expect answers!”

You heave a sigh of relief. He’s definitely picked up on it.

Once all of your spoils are packed away you take a trip downstairs to purchase more wine and request a bath to be drawn - after all, you’ve been on the road with rivers as your only source of cleanliness for gods know how long.

There are nerves. Of course there are nerves, small pins prickling from within and setting you ablaze with each new thought of him beside you for life, threads weaving a rich tableau life together. Lilting violins and piano sonatas. Finery for days. Some small townhouse, just as he’d described it downstairs.

But you found the thing you’d set out to find on your adventures. Where you head next is entirely up to the both of you.

Provided he says yes, that is.

You imagine the worst possible rejection he could give you - “No, darling. Let’s keep things as they are for now.” - and yet the thought of him calling you darling in that syrupy murmur is rousing enough to keep you afloat.

The bath is tepid, door open whilst Astarion watches from the bed between pages.

“More wine, love?”

“Please.”

Calm. Rain on the thatch roof.

He perches on the side of the washtub, one leg crossed over the other as he passes you a glass full of red. Hums absent-mindedly as he swirls the perfumed waters with a dainty hand.

Your mind drifts to the ring. How beautiful it’ll look in place.

He looks at you with that curious glint in his eye, and you roll your head to the back of the tub in an attempt at meek avoidance.

“Pretty.” He quips.

You laugh quietly.

“Hm?”

“You. Pretty. Hair all mussed like a siren. A vision.”

He lifts your wrist from the water and kisses the back of your hand a few times over, while you squirm in jest. He only retaliates by kissing you harder with a fiendish giggle.

“You’re one to talk.”

The lantern by the mirror lights the tips of his curls from behind. Angelic.

“Yes, I am beautiful. So are you. My darling.”

It must be late now. Maybe late enough.

As you lift from the water - assisted by your lover’s hand - and enrobe once more, you feel it.

Now.

Astarion begins his usual routine of light-proofing the room and blocking the shutters as the threat of sunrise looms on the horizon.

Well. Light.

The rain doesn’t show any sign of ceasing.

Nonetheless, you feel ready. A habit you can’t wait for him to break, checking the shutters for cracks.

“C’mere.”

He turns to you and looks you over.

“Hm?”

“Come here! Please! I’ve got something for you and it simply can’t wait any longer.”

The box is light in hand, soft. You’ve checked it multiple times for the ring and all is in place.

The way he steps to you is cautious. Catlike.

“Is this the thing? Is it finally time?’

You pull him in next to you on the edge of the bed, taking both hands in yours.

‘I can see that little box. Hopefully a trinket worth the hours of agony I’ve endured waiting for you to reveal your secrets.” He grins, pulling you in for a gentle kiss.

You don’t say anything, freeing one hand to take the box.

“This is-’

A sharp inhale.

‘This is it. Wherever we go from here, it’s mutually agreed. All of it. But this is what I’ve been looking for, hence my leadership skills taking forefront again.”

“Don’t tell me. It’s a Bracing Band!’

You shove him gently and he giggles, reinforcing his clutch on your hand.

‘Okay, okay. I’m done. Show me.”

He waggles his fingers around your palm and grins expectantly. Gods. You rip the bandage off and open the box to him.

He’s seen a picture of it before - it’s in one of his books, that’s where you got the initial idea - but you know he hasn’t read it or he’d onto you weeks ago.

And he doesn’t recognise it.

“I- What is this?”

A gentle whisper as his eyes run over the golden rays cast with aged enamel.

“A ring.’

Astarion’s death glare takes a new form, this time wholly inhibited by the uncertainty in his frozen hunch.

You stand and spin to a kneel on the floor in front of him.

‘A special ring. Really, really special; in fact.’

Plucking it from the velvet, you hover the band over his fingertip.

‘Firstly though. Marry me?”

You don’t think you’ve ever seen him so completely and utterly shocked.

Mouth firmly agape as red round eyes attempt to scan yours for any sign of deceit, jowls trembling a little in the yellow lantern glow. A small gulp as his lips meet once more.

“You picked an inn called The Scoundrel's Cellar, in a town called Tardy, in the middle of a thunderstorm; to propose marriage to me?”

“Had to be here, had to be now. Couldn’t wait any longer. You’ll understand in a minute, I promise.’

You rise a little to cup his jaw in hand, sinking into a chaste kiss.

‘Astarion Ancunín, will you marry me?”

“Gods!’

There’s a brief tremor as his lips wobble, then a practised breath as he speaks. One hand reaches for your flushed cheek to mirror the gesture.

‘Of course I will, you brute. Maybe you could’ve done with a better choice in ring, of course; but I can learn to love it, I’m sur-”

“You are beyond insufferable, Astarion. Kiss me right now.”

The immediately resulting kiss is brimming with yearning. A cup full to spilling as he takes the ring in your hand whilst you put it on him.

He hunches all the way over to meet you on raised knees, grabbing at body-warmed bedclothes for one another; tenderly, in peals of quiet laughter between breaths and silent shouts.

“Wait. I’m not done.’

He’s giddy now, too. Knee bouncing.

‘There’s a reason it had to be that ring.”

“It’s hideous, pet. Give me a reason to love it.”

You spin to your feet and to the furthest shutters, opening them a slight as he watches on in guarded curiosity with the biggest smile lingering on his face.

The first hint of light.

“C’mere.”

“You’re bossing me around an awful lot today, my darling betrothed.”

The weight of the moment is colossal, ocean deep. Despite his sheer joy he won’t come willingly. The burns from the dock the day the Absolute fell were molten for weeks and you still both have night terrors ringing loud with the sound of his agonising yells.

A gentle hand extends to him.

“The Sunwalker’s Gift.”

Then it clicks. Slowly. The final puzzle piece.

“No. Surely.”

“Yes.”

“It can’t be.”

“It had to be.”

“What if it isn’t?”

“Then we have a wedding to plan in the Underdark. But I wouldn’t traipse across the realms on just an inkling, you know.”

“I know you wouldn’t.”

“Well then.’

Your hand waits expectantly, fingers mimicking his waggle.

‘Just a finger. Please.”

He sits on the bed, spinning the ring mindlessly; before he looks at you with a resolute nod.

“I’ve trusted you with far worse, all things considered.”

Astarion approaches slowly and meets your hand, interlinking your ring fingers together and waiting for your word as you position yourself within the light.

“On three?”

Three arrives and nothing happens.

Hands raised, fingers lit in a single low beam of early light. Frozen.

“Astarion? All good?”

He moves your hands wholly into the light. Nothing. Twists the tangled fingers as if examining for damage. Rain careens into the window.

“I- Yes. Yes. All good.”

Dumbfounded.

You erupt into a bubbling grin, pulling him to the balcony doors and planting another soft kiss onto bewildered lips. Looking to the worn bronze handles with a brief head tilt.

A simple, overwhelmed nod. Brows knitted together in a milky daze, mouth slack. He looks like he’s going to collapse.

The doors edge open and you cautiously step to lead him by arm.

Nothing. Not a single sizzle, no cinders. Forearm, arm, body; head.

No tug on your hand as he races back indoors. No wretched cries of pain nor gasps of hurt.

It’s a few seconds before he speaks. The sun now burns bright enough to see the streets below with razor clarity.

“The rain. My- my hair-’

Barely above a whisper.

‘Looks perfect. As it always does.’

Your eyes don’t leave him. Not once. He’s completely floored, gazing into the middle distance mindlessly.

‘Love, sit.”

You gently tug an iron-wrought balconette chair over to him and help him to find purchase atop it amongst his overwhelm.

“I- I love you. Thank you.”

“Anything. Anything for you.”

He shakes from his haze once wet through, lightning on the horizon awakening the Astarion you recognise best. Closes his eyes with a soft smile.

“You’re going to catch your death out here, you know.”

His grip on your hand is vicelike, clutching it to his chest with zealous reverence.

“Then we’ll have to have a hot bath later. Right now though, I think a celebration is in order.”

You free yourself from his grasp for two moments, barreling back inside for the last of the wine and the large bedsheet. You place both chalices on the iron table and sit beside Astarion outside in fits of laughter whilst wrapping the sheet over both of your heads. He snatches your hand back and kisses it for an age. Devoted.

“To Tardy?”

He lifts his chalice in his free hand, and you do the same in yours.

“Tardy!”

#my writing #astarion x reader #astarion #astarion ancunin #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 #astarion x female reader #astarion x male reader #astarion x gn reader #astarion x tav #fluff #one shot #x reader

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elizakai · 4 months

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I like thinking about their more canon adjacent dynamic (character wise)

MINI ANALYSIS TIME

Because while I love the soft interpretations, even WITH those let’s be real; that’s not how they’d act off the bat

Horror would be extremely judgmental (fair) and hate Dust for what he did. He’d despise him and probably be very passive aggressive. Making jabs and making his disdain apparent when they have to interact. I think getting a read on Dust is also difficult and would piss Horror off. Horror is unpredictable and has a sadistic streak, if he was mad or manic and had Dust in a corner he’d have no qualms about manhandling the guy. (And Dust probably wouldn’t do much to stop him.)

Meanwhile, Dusttale’s creator was asked once how Dust may feel if he met Horror, to which they said he feels bad for Horror. He likes him, sees him as someone who went through something horribly undeserved. In my mind Dust is somewhat protective of Horror.

I interpret these clashing of dynamics as Horror’s just utter disdain for this guy, and Dust’s resigned acceptance of Horror’s judgment. He’d agree with him if he were to judge himself, but I think a part of him wants Horror’s approval. He doesn’t EVER expect to get it, but Horror is….

While he’s seen hell, he’s almost a less tormented version of Dust himself. Deep down they are the same. Horror has suffered greatly, but even still hasn’t hit the deep end dust has, and I think he’d want to protect that sort of innocence he’s granted. One could think of it as him protecting a piece of himself he himself has already sacrificed. And wanting APPROVAL from him, wishing to be forgiven, craving that small piece of validation or understanding as he tries to reconcile with himself.

Horror’s formed opinion makes sense, he agrees with it, and simply wishes he disagreed, that he could have proof of himself being a FRACTION worthy of forgiveness or understanding.

The judge in both of them has both formed an opinion of the other, and they happen to differ greatly. Horror sees Dust as an abuser and Dust sees Horror as a victim.

I like to imagine that, while reluctantly thrown into the same general vicinity, Horror would grow to be more understanding (again if we are going with a PROGRESSIVE plot line) and come to understand that, yes, he wasn’t WRONG, but there is nuance to the situation. They both have a very grim understanding of what it’s like to be trapped. I think he has the capacity to understand Dust better if he was given time. His hands aren’t clean after all, and he knows what it’s like to be forced into a situation and to feel backed into a drastic decision. He knows what it’s like to lose your autonomy and to feel your mind break itself under pressure.

I think the simple fact that Dust wouldn’t TRY to change his mind or justify himself would be part of why Horror could come to understand him. He’s devestated by his actions, he is by no means a sadist.

Horror coming to understand Dust and sort of reconcile/forgive him I think would be rather BIG for Horror, especially if you factor in other situations he now has to consider. (For example, his Undyne and her drastic attempt at freeing the undergroud…) reconciling his OWN arguably cruel decisions he has made with pure intentions, when he feels there’s no other choice (like his Papyrus and tricking him into doing something so outside of his beliefs, to protect him)

It would also be healing for Dust to get that reconciliation with Horror because again…Horror’s opinion actually may MATTER.

And in the same way that Dust may see Horror as a sort of person to be protected from further harm, Horror would probably pick up on all of the VERY bad habits Dust has that (in my observation at least) are EXTREMELY similar to his own habits/past habits (isolation, obsession, deprivation, paranoia, bringing harm to self etc) and I could see him being sensitive towards those and trying to prevent it worsening (it’s a sore subject💔) Horror is shown to prioritize taking care of those he cares about, even when he’s a bit mad, and he has the capacity to grow an understanding for someone he doesn’t like initially :))

I think they have potential to be VERY good for one another, Horror (while being fucked up) encourages (and maybe forces) better habits and actually has an opinion that matters to Dust, and Dust is inclined to be VERY loyal (Horror needs someone to show him loyalty.) to anyone who cares to give him the time of day, as it’s far beyond what he’d expect, and he’s got the sympathy/protective streak towards Horror as an actual in character detail.

And from there it would be wonderful to explore their dynamic in whatever way you like to interpret it🤫💥

I could go on but I’ll stop here, if you read this all CONGRATS!!!

Share your thoughts I love it

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queerfables · 6 months

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'Wilson' as an episode fucking slaps. I'm obsessed with Wilson's complete lack of boundaries and I'm obsessed with the way he acts out to express resentment while still being completely incapable of saying no. He gave a patient part of his liver!! The man is in no way hinged.

For all the emphasis that gets placed on Wilson's failed marriages and infidelity, we don't ever actually see it directly on screen. This is a narrative choice I love, for the record. We see Wilson's relationships through House's eyes and it allows us to understand Wilson as a deeply flawed person without ever making him unlikable, because Wilson's flaws and contradictions are what make him irresistible to House. It's so effective, the way these failed relationships say so much about Wilson's character while being constructed largely out of inference.

In this episode, though, we watch his inability to self advocate play out in real time, and I guarantee that this is what every one of his relationship meltdowns looked like from the inside. On some deep fundamental level, James Wilson doesn't believe "I don't want to" is a valid reason not to do something. You know the fantasy trope of an obedience curse, where the victim is inescapably compelled to obey other people's requests? Wilson casts that spell on his own damn self, and he'll hold true to it even to the point of violating his own bodily autonomy. When you lack boundaries like that, it becomes almost impossible to even know what you truly want, let alone to act on it. So Wilson says yes and yes and yes until it breaks him, and then he still can't say no.

When saying yes feels like surrendering to torture and saying no feels like committing murder, the only option left is escape. So Wilson goes out drinking to trash the liver he's going to donate. He gets dinner with the pretty nurse instead of going home to his wife. All of it is him scrabbling at the bars of his cage. And the irony is that the cage is unlocked, he just has to walk through the open door, and that's the last thing he could ever bring himself to do.

I'm pretty sure that when he went to Cuddy and told her his plan to donate, he wanted her to say no. She almost did! And I think she should have, because her first impulse was right, it is insane. Unfortunately this is the Insane Lack of Boundaries Hospital, and she can't actually be expected to guess when her employee's mouth is saying yes but his eyes are saying dear god no. By the rules of universe that House MD operates within, this doesn't even break a 7 on the "unhinged measures to save a patient" scale, and Wilson invoked the power of friendship. What was she supposed to do?

And through all of this, House is the person Wilson lashes out at. I love, love, love that House is the person Wilson lashes out at. Wilson can't even admit to himself that he's angry about the position he's in. How can he be angry when he's the reason the patient needs a new liver? But House sees right to the heart of everything going on with him, and he says all the things Wilson wants to be true and can't afford to believe. Because if he lets himself believe this wasn't his fault then he might not be able to say yes. And he's going to say yes. And he hates that he's going to say yes. And he hates that House knows he's going to say yes.

So he gets angry with House, because it's safe to get angry with House. He lashes out, because with House, he can. He tells House he's wrong about him, and demands House move out, and that's not at all what he really wants but he feels helpless and coerced and he desperately needs to exercise some kind of control over his own life. The fact that he can let go like this with House is in part about knowing House isn't ever going to leave him - the closeness of their relationship is always defined by what Wilson wants, House has never once pushed Wilson away and fights to reconcile when Wilson wants distance. But it's also about knowing that he can't hurt House by setting boundaries with him. Mostly this is because House will walk right over any boundaries he considers unacceptable, but in fairness, the fact that House is kind of a terrible person is part of his appeal. If Wilson had issues around other people violating his stated wishes, House would be the last person in the world that he should have anything to do with. But Wilson's issues lie in the fear that not being compulsively available and accommodating to everyone around him might permanently fuck up the life of someone he loves. House's fucked up life is never going to be Wilson's fault and even if it was House would still kind of deserve it, so Wilson's anxious people pleasing compulsion can chill the fuck out for five minutes at a time.

I don't want to idealise, there are times in their relationship when Wilson absolutely makes fucked up sacrifices for House. I don't think it's the case that he earnestly wanted to every time. But it's also true that House brings out authenticity in Wilson that few other people manage to. House knows him. House allows him to give in to his selfish impulses without guilt and consequences, and for all the people who love the best in him, House knows and loves his worst. While Wilson is caught up in trying to bend himself into whatever shape someone else needs him to be, what House wants more than anything is the truth. For Wilson, who is so out of touch with his own desires, being an object of fascination to someone obsessed with drives and motivations must be a rush. And if we accept the throughline of this episode, it might just be the case that House's boundary pushing and obsession is something Wilson needs.

#house md #fable talks

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casdeans-pie · 7 months

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If I could pitch season 16 of Supernatural:

Dean wakes up and it turns out that everything from 15x18 was an Empty Nightmare because he actually grabbed Cas just before he got taken, so got pulled in too.

Sam and Jack have been trying to get them both out for 5 years.

Jack still got the God Powers but he's whimsical with them and retains his personality. He wants to try and preserve human free will. But also helps in small ways where he can. (and still pops into the bunker for a bowl of cereal from time to time)

Sam is the 'new Bobby' in the MOL bunker - sending out hunters and knowing all the lore about all the monsters. (Also he practices witchcraft on the side)

No blurry wife - Sam and Eileen are engaged - and no Dean Jr. But! they are considering having a kid soon. And! They can get married now that Dean and Cas are back!

Dean and Cas heartfelt reunion!!! Clinging hug!!!! Never let me go again!!!! We're not talking about the confession but we both want to!!!!! etc etc

Cas is still an angel and Jack offers to make him an archangel !! Cas feels like he should say yes out of obligation (even if he doesn't want to leave) but Dean actually FINALLY asks him. to stay? (Cas immediately declines Jack's offer)

Dean struggles with the memories of his Empty Nightmare. (It was just SO bad. But also he tries to describe Old Man Sam and his bad hair and that cheers him up.)

The original Death is back because he never really died, he just didn't want to be involved in all the Winchester shenanigans. But he's back now that all the world-ending chaos is over. (Tessa is also back as his second-in-command)

Billie is the new ruler over the Empty, and it's a place of eternal rest now. Very peaceful. Meg is there and she's having a great time relaxing.

Crowley comes back as a human for a second chance. He's still kind of an ass but he's lovable with it.

Lots of reunions and cameos. It's magic you can bring all sorts of characters back to life - a lot of them died unfairly in the first place. Bring them all back!

Dean! and! Cas! Kiss!

I want all the genres of kiss. Confused. Desperate. Relieved. Passionate. Tender.

The season is all very character focused and character driven and ties up any loose ends the show had left.

The drama comes from internal character struggles and with Dean and Cas figuring out where they fit into this 5 years on world now. (The answer is together doing whatever they want to and Dean comes to the realisation he wants to retire, but he struggles with reconciling that he wants to retire and Sam doesn't and they have to go on different paths now).

The series ends with the big Sam/Eileen wedding and it's just a huge party and gathering of all the cameos you can possibly think of. Friends, family, frenemies, some beloved characters who only appeared in one episode... they're all there.

Dean proposes to Cas by taking the loop from Baby's keys out of his pocket and getting down on one knee and using it like a ring stand-in (it's way too big but it's symbolic and cheesy and sweet and it doesn't matter)

Of course he says yes.

The end.

#this is barely coherent but I just had to get this all down asdfghjkl #spn s16 #destiel #post canon destiel #spn finale fix it

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icaruspendragon · 3 months

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i hope this isn't too personal of a question (and if it is that's totally cool, i was literally just curious as a fellow aspec person), but i was wondering what some of your thoughts were about being aspec, like it's totally cool if your thoughts were just the post you reblogged!!! that's honestly still putting into words a bit a similar way i figured out i was aspec, but i know you seem to have really interesting takes on things/conclusions you've realized about things a lot of the time and so i was just curious what thoughts were turning around your head about being aspec

I don't mind talking about it at all!

So for me sex is like this perfunctory, borderline tedious thing. I almost want to call it a chore, but that has negative connotations that don't exactly match up with how I feel about it. It's like something on a to do list, or like running an errand.

Think of it this way: For me, having sex is akin to going to the pharmacy. Actually, it's more like being asked to go for someone else. It's not on my list of things I enjoy doing and there are other things I would rather do, but I don't mind going if someone asks me to. But once in a blue moon I do actually want to go because I want candy or a Juneberry Red Bull or some shit like that and Walgreens happens to be nearby.

Media builds up sex to be this incredible and awesome and amazing thing that everyone wants to have, which is at odds with the widely held societal belief that it's uncouth to discuss sex openly with others. So if media says "yes you should want this" and society says "but you shouldn't talk about it with others because it's an incredibly private act" it makes it kinda difficult when you don't feel the way you're "supposed to." And then when you do talk about how you don't feel that way, people say there's something wrong with you or that you haven't found the right person or that maybe you need to change things up in the bedroom or that you need to go to a doctor because it's gotta be a hormonal imbalance or something. The list really does go on and on.

And so many of my expectations surrounding sex were informed by fanfic where I read, in detail, about how good it was supposed to feel. About all the different ways it could feel good.

I wanted it to be like that for me, for it to be as good as I had read and seen and heard others talk about, so I kept on trying. And sometimes I enjoyed it. Not E rated fanfic enjoyed it, but it was nice. Nice in the same way a cup of tea is nice, but nice nonetheless.

But most of the time it was like, clinical? Like I was acutely aware of what was happening, if that makes sense. I was thinking about the mechanics of it, what was going in where. I was thinking about how it was "supposed to feel" versus how it actually felt. I would wonder how much longer it would take because I was getting bored. Sometimes I would think about how rude it would be if I checked my phone. And probably the most upsetting (retrospectively) thing I would think about was if my act of enjoyment was convincing enough. And I didn't ever want to tell a partner that I wasn't enjoying it because I didn't want to hurt their feelings. Because I thought it was a me problem. That there was something wrong with me. And there being something wrong with me wasn't fair to whoever I was with. I just needed to grin and bear it, so to speak.

At one point I had a bit of a gay panic where I thought wasn't bisexual and actually a lesbian. The panic was over the confusion, not over the potential lesbianism. Lesbians are awesome. But I learned that while sexual intimacy with women was a bit easier, my feelings (or lack thereof) about sex were still the same. And that meant there was something wrong with me in particular.

I know now that my perspective was warped and my thoughts about myself were both unkind and untrue, but that was a lot to try and reconcile as a 19 year old who already thought she was undesirable. Constantly being called a "late bloomer" and not having your first relationship until you're a sophomore in college sure does a number on your self esteem. Which in turn does a number on your perception of yourself.

Then as I got older, I got more queer friends. And I talked to those queer friends. And they talked about sex differently than my straight friends did. More openly and honestly. With less fanfare. And it was during those discussions that I heard about experiences similar to mine. And it helped me realize I wasn't broken. Well, that and google.

And now I stand before you today, an aspec bisexual able to joke about being horny in theory but not in application. It's nice not feeling broken anymore. But I think it's even nicer now knowing that I was never broken in the first place.

Sometimes sex is nice, but most of the time, it's just going to the pharmacy. And both of those things are okay.

#asks #if 20 year old Berklie could see me talking so frankly about my sex life she'd probably implode #but if you never talk about this kinda stuff it makes it awful hard for folks to know they're not the only ones #that they're not alone #and most importantly: that they're not broken like she had always been led to believe

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fan-goddess · 1 year

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Helloooo love! I'm a fan lurking in the dark with a request idea for Aemond x Reader. Would love to see your take on Aemond trying to win Reader back (his wife) after she found out about Alys. Maybe this happens after the "Dance" , Aemond survives and they have to deal with the aftermath of Alys. Reader loved him with everything she had so she feels betrayed and turns cold to him and maybe because of Alys, something also happened to her (idk lost pregnancy perhaps but PLEASE exclude this if you don't feel comfortable writing it). Basically take everything you find interesting from this request and work your magic - I trust you like no other!!! Thank you I send you all the love there is - you are very very talented and please know there are many like me that think you are truly brilliant, I know it!!! :*:*

Authors Note: Oh my god thank you this is so freakin sweet! 🥺 I’m happy to take the request and spin my take on this, hope you enjoy it! :)

Also, some of the stuff Is made up like the time between Daemons death and end of the war. I don’t know it so I made it up. If you don’t like it take it up with my dms

Word count: 2.6K

Warnings: Cheating, miscarriage though it’s not explicit, she’s kinda depressed? Not sure how to describe it,

Taglist: @blue-serendipity

The Sequels: The Depressive one, The happy One

—————

If Aemond ever regretting not killing anyone throughout the war he technically started, most would’ve immediately assumed that he wished he never killed his nephew. Though they were wrong. Yes, Lucerys’ death became one of the many causes of the war and in turn deaths of so many people, but his death didn’t result in the loss of you and your child.

Alys’ death could’ve though.

When he first met Alys, he had been nearly immediately enraptured and enamoured by had. She was quite different to you. While you had always been headstrong and never afraid to tell Aemond what he needed to do or to be, Alys had been more docile and had no issue in telling Aemond all the things he wanted to hear.

He regretted the first time he laid with Alys in his bed. Though that regret went away the more time he spent with her and the more times he laid with her. He begun to think of possibly taking after Aegon the conqueror, thinking he’d have both you and Alys by his side when Aegon most likely drank himself to death.

That fantasy was soon ruined when he got that letter.

Dear Aemond,

Do you think of me as a fool? I know about that fucking woman Aemond. I know about Alys. I don’t know why you have decided to betray our marriage and honestly, I don’t think care I can bring myself to think about it nor care anymore. This letter was originally going to be happy. A letter letting you know what we prayed near everyday from the seven had finally come true and been answered. I was with child. Our child made purely of what I had thought was love. Though that changed when I was informed of what you had done. I mourned for what we could’ve had. I cried and refused to believe it at first, though soon I came to my senses. Yet it was too late. Our child is dead Aemond. I woke up a few days ago to heavy blood staining our bedsheets. The child was barely two months according to the maester. I wish for you to know it is your fault Aemond. I do not wish to ever see you again. I wish to never hear from you so if you attempt to reconcile or send a letter I will pay for our child’s blood with your own. You have dug your grave Aemond. Don’t try and dig it deeper. If you are to die in battle, I hope it is painful. I hope you suffer like I have.

From, your wife

From your former wife

Aemond had felt his heart plummet to the floor when he read that letter. He could not stop the tears that fell to the floor and stained the letter he still was holding. The ink blotting and staining the page so much the words were becoming near illegible.

He attempted to head into battle with the faint hope that you’d forgive him if he killed his uncle. Though even he knew deep down that no amount of deaths could fix anything. Yet even still he tried. He defeated Daemon, with blood of which Targaryen man he did not know staining and pooling on his ripped armour.

Aemond came home where he was met with his mother and brother, who both congratulated him on his victory. Though even with their congrats he could see the disgust that lingered in his mothers gaze as she looked at him. It made his shame all that more prominent.

He would’ve gone to see you, but Aegon stopped him before he could, claiming he was holding a feast in his name for the defeat of Daemon. He tried to look for you in the amount of people that came, yet he couldn’t. And he didn’t dare ask his mother if you would be coming in fear of her glare and disappointment.

That night he wonders something. Maybe it would’ve been better if he did die by the hand of his uncle? Then it would’ve saved him from all this torture. Though he can’t say he didn’t deserve it. Aemond can only wallow in his drinks that he keeps being given and his own sorrow.

Aemond was back home. The words the maids said echoed in your head. He’s here, and no doubt going to attempt to reconcile. If there was one thing you ever learnt about your husband, was that he never quit at anything he started.

You already made bets with yourself on how he’d attempt to do it.

Maybe he’ll try flowers? No that’s too much of a common move for Aemond to pull… Maybe he’ll bring you some jewellery? No that’d make him feel like he was buying for your forgiveness. Like he was buying something for a mistress. Well… he’s been there and done that…

There is always the chance Aemond will not even attempt to reconcile. Hopefully becoming too overcome by the grief and pain of the loss of his and your child that he’d respect your wishes after reading your own pain on paper. The maids still look at you worriedly, especially when they find you sitting near the window. You know why they worry, you mourned Helaena and Jahaerys and you know you will not become like her.

Aegon was also the one who told you about Alys, and when you lost your child and screamed for the whole of the castle to hear, it was Aegon who ran to you to mourn with you and hold you while you cried for a life you may have been able to have. He held you in the way a brother would hold a sister. He even cried with you and helped clean you of the blood. Oh the blood…

———

It’s been a few long months, but the war between the greens and the blacks is finally over. Aegon is celebrating by holding a massive banquet and all the lord and ladies who supported him are invited. Even though Aemond knows it will not happen, he secretly hopes you will come to celebrate.

Though as he keeps sneaking glances at the door all night he eventually comes to term with the fact you’re not coming. He can only swallow more bitter wine and ignore the fact he’s drinking it like a fish in water now.

He’s attempted to reconcile from a distance ever since the incident but everything he has sent to your chambers has come back in shreds. The flowers from the garden you loved to look after, heads torn from their stems and cut into a thousand pieces. The books he sent on your favourite topic, you had more restraint on them and simply chucked them from your window onto unsuspecting bystanders bellow.

Aegon told him delightfully how after he delivered the books to you, they were seen immediately thrown from the window and one had supposedly managed to hit one knight straight on the head, effectively knocking him out cold.

Though if anything those small acts of defiance made Aemond wish to reunite and return to you even more. It reminded him just why he fell in love with you in the first place. Your wit and your wisdom made him fall head over heals for you, literally.

He had tripped in front of you and some other ladies of the court due to the load of books he was carrying. He had not yet gotten used to the visual impairments the loss of his eye provided and did not see the thrown goblet in his path. Aemond had effectively turned scarlet when the ladies began to mockingly giggle at him, it nearly made his heart beat straight from his chest when he saw you come to his help. “You need to get some help with those. It’s not that bad to ask for help you know? Means you aren’t a stubborn twat.” You grin.

He wished he could go back to those days. They were simpler. They held no knowledge of the war they would face. It held no knowledge of the bastard from Harrenhal.

Aemond had not tried to reunite with you in person. He knew you’d most definitely follow through with your threat and spill his blood. It’s why he attempted to send you items instead through the maids. Though it’s very obvious those weren’t working either. That’s when he got the idea to write you letters. There was easily a chance that you would burn them or tear them the moment you saw the writing. Yet even then Aemond knew he had to try…

———

“Princess. I have another item sent from the prince for you.” One of the maids said as she carefully approached your bed. The sun had already hit its peak that day, though you could not bring yourself to get out of bed. The only time you could bring yourself too was either with the help of your maids, or when Aemond sent a supposed gift to you which you’d immediately destroy.

“What is it this time?” You sigh. “Is it something that I am supposed to eat? Because if it is i’d like it if you took to the servants quarters and give it to them and not-“

“It’s not food related my princess. It’s a letter.” When you look towards the maid you can see the sad expression clear on her face. This maid has brought you many of Aemonds attempts at reconciliation.

“What is your name?” It does not give you any sort of pleasure when the maid looks shocked at the fact a princess is asking for the name of a maid. “Its not a trick question I want to know your name.”

“Klarisa my princess. My name is Klarissa.”

“Klarisa do you think I should read the letter my bastard of a husband as written to me?” You look carefully at Klarisas face, the decision of your lifetime hanging in a mere maids hands.

“To be honest with you my lady…” Klarisa takes a deep breath and puts on a sympathetic face. You appreciate that she wishes to give you honesty, though that sympathetic face makes you want to punch her. “What the prince did was inexcusable after the way the two of you acted before… her. You got to have a husband who loves you and cared for you, that itself is much more than most of the women who are forced into a marriage can hope for. The prince is trying to make up for it and is also respective your boundaries. Not many could say that they got to have a husband who did even one of those things. So yes my princess, I believe you should read the letter.” You take a deep breathe and loosen your hands, which seemed to have clenched so tightly your nails all but pierce into your palms.

“Give me the letter then leave. If you see the prince, do not tell him that you for once got me to think about even looking at his weak apologies. Just put your head down, and walk away. Do you understand Klarisa?”

“Yes my princess.” Klarisa moves swiftly to the doors to your chambers, opening it and moving forward, only to stop for a moment and turn on her heels towards to. “I hope you get what it is you seek my princess. For your own sake.” She turns back to the door and closes it behind her, leaving you alone with the letter in your hand which already feels like it’s burning you. Yet you prevail, and slowly open the letter to read it.

Dear ñuha jorrāelagon,

I will not waste my breath in attempting to gain your forgiveness. I know better than anyone that when you stick your mind to something you keep it that way. Though what I will say is the truth, which I know will hurt you and anger you more than anything but i know it’s what you wish to hear.

Alys was a woman I believed to be falling in love with. She was something what I believed I needed in my life. A woman to be docile and to whisper all the things I needed to hear in my ear. Though after your letter, it became my wake up. I cut off all contact with Alys after realising how much I hurt you. I regret that woman everyday I have not been with you. You are the only woman I need to be with. I love that you are not docile and will not take any man’s shit (as you so clearly and often tended to put it). I love that you challenge me and encourage the debates we so often hold. I love you Rhaella, more than any woman before in my life. I’m sorry it took another woman and the life of our child for me to realise it. I understand wholeheartedly if you wish to never speak to me again. But I hope with this letter, if you ever do decide to read this, which after all my other attempts seem unlikely, you at least know that there will not be a single day that I do not wish that I did not kill that woman when I killed all the other strongs. You are my life. My world. And I hope you know that.

From, Aemond Targaryen

You’ve never felt like you wanted to cry this much since you lost your sweet baby. You can feel the tears leaking down your face the entire time you read Aemonds words. Some of your tears drip onto the page, leaving some of the words to blur together into illegible blobs of black ink.

You feel the urge to destroy the letter. The same urge and desire you felt when you got into contact with all of Aemonds other gifts. Though you resist this time, and instead of destroying the letter, you smooth it out and place it delicately under the mass amounts of pillows that seem to always near take over your bed. That night, for the first night of the many you’d stayed in your room during your isolation period, you slept the whole night in your bed with no nightmares to wake you screaming.

———

When Aemond was standing in the corridor in the shadows and hadn’t picked up on any whispers from the maids passing him of any destruction or damage coming from your chambers, he assumed you must have kept the letter.

He does not hold though any hope that you read it. For all he knows you’ve simply just ignored it or ripped it and used it to keep your fire alight.

When he is waiting for the maid to come out of your room though, he could not help but feel hopeful when the maid takes longer than usual to come out of your room. “Well?” He asks as he steps from the shadows when the maid eventually comes out and nearly passes him. He does not dare to actually ask whether or not you took it. Even though he so selfishly wish to help hold her down and demand for

It surprises him and angers him when the maid looks at him and yet does not acknowledge him. What did you tell her? What does she know?

Aemond grabs the arm of the maid as she attempts to pass him without any real acknowledgment. “Your prince asked you a question.” He growls. He nearly felt sympathy for the woman when she looked at him with fear in her eyes. But he is not Aegon. He can control his desires towards the maids.

“The princess asked that I not speak to you. Please let go of my arm, my prince…” The maid half begs. Aemond lets go of her arm reluctantly after a moment of thinking. Why would you tell the maid to not talk to him? Maybe you really read the letter and do not wish to appear weak to him? Though only if you knew that you could never be weak in his eyes, his strong independent wife.

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond fic #prince aemond #aemond x reader #aemond x fem!reader #aemond targaryen/reader #aemond x you #hotd aemond #house of the dragon aemond #aemond the kinslayer #aemond targaryen angst #aemond targaryen imagine #aegon targaryen #the death of a life au

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kneelingshadowsalome · 2 months

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How does Minotaur!Konig handle an argument with his wife/his wife being upset with him? He clearly avoids making her upset as much as possible because he loves her and only wants to see her happy, and she loves and accepts him as he is, quirks and all so I don't really see them getting into fights but maybe he gets way too reactive and violent with someone in town over a perceived slight and she gives him the silent treatment on the way home or something. I feel like he'd be so sad even if she only didn't talk to him for like an hour 😞 I can also see his insecurities/abandonment issues coming into play, he starts overthinking and makes it a whole big thing in his head and meanwhile she's already forgetting that she was even upset with him. These are just my thoughts but maybe you have something else in mind/see it playing out differently!

Yes absolutely!!

Minotaur!König cannot cope with this shit at all. The last time he did something “bad” ended in him being thrown into a cold, dark Labyrinth. Even as a grown man he goes straight into survival mode if he sees that he has somehow disappointed his beloved 💔

His wife knows how König is so it would take a lot for her to visibly show she’s upset with him. Our bull tries to avoid chaos as best he can which means arguments between these two are extremely rare — but they do happen! Because one thing you must know about all versions of König is that they think they’re always right. Minotaur!König is just as thick headed as the rest of them so if he thinks that “his cause is just” then he will stand his ground no matter what. He will claim that water is wine if he thinks it’s so!

Some petty perceived insult directed at his wife could get him riled very easily, could get them both into trouble because König won't cool down before he’s drawn blood. He wants to give this poor soul's head to his wife, on a plate if possible, and if he can’t do that the tension just won’t go away. How can life go on if he hasn’t done what’s right??

She has to guide König in social situations and explain later what it was all about, what different phrases mean and how he can’t just kill people if they don’t behave the way he wants them to. In some ways, she knows she is dealing with a child and has to be patient, how could this poor man know how to behave when he lived underground all those years? All he was taught was that he’s evil, unwanted and ugly, so the last thing she wants to do is hurl blame at him and scream. Silent treatment would totally be one of her ways to show him he didn’t get points home this time, but for König even the tiniest distancing looks like she’s abandoning him. Throwing him mentally into a tiny tiny Labyrinth, telling him he’s not wanted, that he’ll never be loved :(

And poor König doesn’t know what to do and how to be, for a while the anxiety threatens to take over. He reaches for her hand, then pulls away fearing she doesn’t want to be touched. He tries to talk, but nothing comes out because he doesn’t entirely understand what he should apologise for. He stands in the middle of the room and watches her blow air on the coals and just go on about her day, thinking that the time has finally come when she tells him to get out of the house.

It takes years before König takes the initiative in reconciling because he simply doesn’t know how to do it. Blunt, pained statements such as “Are you upset with me,” and “You’re disappointed in me” are common before he learns that the world is not going to end even if they’re not happy with each other all the time. His wife is usually the one who comes to him and says that everything is okay and that she was only upset with what he did, not with who he is.

Just imagine this adorable goof being both stubborn in his "I don’t have to say I’m sorry" policy and crippled by his "Are you going to abandon me" fear 💔 How can you even be angry at this man? There’s no chance, especially when he’s a jerk only once or twice a year 🩷🦬

#minotaur!könig #he's so 💔💔💔❤️‍🩹❤️

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