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#it is odd in that the human emotion is there but I can't put a picture to it sometimes
gonzodangerfeels · 3 months
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It's rough on me when you've won like 99.7 or 99.8 percent of our nonverbal get togethers
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funnyexel · 27 days
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what if your stalker loses the remaining piece of human decency he has left
okay.
he was scaring you, acting extremely scary and out of character in your eyes. even if that's who he's always been under the mask...
"no. stay longer." he demanded said.
"it's getting late, and I've been with you for a few days." you replied back, still trying to be polite and understanding in some way. you kept a comfortable smile on your face as you continued, "remember what I said about having time to miss me?"
he didn't want to hear that shit. you said this so often that it actually made him not want to hear your voice. even with the rampant thoughts of wanting to grab the nearest fabric and shove it in your mouth to shut you up, he brushed his hair back to express mild frustration with your words.
and with all this conversation, you still didn't make a definite move. you didn't get up, you didn't sternly say you were leaving and you definitely didn't get up to automatically pack up your things.
"stay." the shorter his phrases got, the shorter his temper got as well and your patience was getting worn too. you try to be a patient person but when he acts so entitled and childish, you can't help the awkward yet strained laugh that comes from your chest.
"I can't do it. I need to go back to my house." you were stern and here comes the attempt the remove yourself from the premises.
you got up from your laying position on the bed and closed up your already packed bag, you planned this, you planned to leave today and you were executing it.
you could feel the adamant stare on your back coming from him. you rolled your eyes and shook your head. you have a minuscule understanding of what's going on in his head, quite minuscule compared to what is actually going on.
"I won't say it again." you look over to him and tilt your head, you were perplexed by his word choice.
"oh, don't be so dramatic." you utter as you put on sweatpants and you thought he was simply trying to intimidate you with his harsh tone and odd wording. but you were naïve to the obvious signs.
he considered letting you go but the way you looked in those sweats, his sweats. he couldn't. not this time.
he grabbed you by the neck, his thumb on one side of your jaw while his four fingers are on the other side. with his chest pressed up against your back, he pushed the bedroom door closed. he was breathing heavily.
like breathing uncomfortably down your ear.
you mistakenly utter his name and his thumb that was fitted on your jaw, pressed your lips together firmly.
he was clicking his tongue as you felt his head shake next to yours. as your chest was raising and falling noticeably, his icy hand slithered up your shirt and you felt a chilling sensation from your sternum to the top of your esophagus.
you felt your resolve shattering under him as he ripped the bag from your hands and spun you around. he couldn't even began to forge together any words as he brought your face close to his. your scent intoxicating him once more and he feels that certain emotion snap inside of him.
something that held him back from taking in all of you.
pushing you down onto the bed, it didn't feel like how it usually did, soft and welcoming, it felt hard and stringent. he grabs your wrist harshly and you couldn't take your eyes off of him. but his actions were still full of intent as you felt your wrist binded to the bed.
you don't know how to feel. one moment you are protesting loudly and kicking at him and the next you are moaning when he so much as squeezes and twists your nipple through your shirt.
he refused to prep you and give you that sense of pleasure, like this was supposed to be pleasureful, it wasn't. as he had you on your back—right wrist tightly tied onto the bedframe—he made you put your feet on his chest. sadistically, wanting to feel you push away from him as he pushed into you raw. it hurt. like hell.
your free hand pushed your hair harshly out your face as you threw your head back on the bed and in this specific moment he felt your resistance the most. but at the same time he felt the way you were desperately pulling him in and in. like you were just begging him to touch your cervix.
he was pushing in slowly, slow and shallow thrusts into you and rubbing your clit ever-so-often even if you obviously didn't deserve it. he wants to hear those sweet moans, even if those whiny pleads are ruining the experience.
he can't focus on your walls suffocating his dick when all you're doing is crying your heart out. with a clear irritation he pushes down on your stomach as he leans over to get a piece of tightly woven rope. you didn't get a moment to slap him away as he was already looming over you, forcefully putting the rope over your mouth and around your head. tying it tight enough so it won't come off and it will effectively muffle those loud and annoying cries.
"I don't want to hear you speak."
you were expecting a quaint 'understand?' from him but the question would've been a waste of breath because of the way your body forced itself to relax under him.
at this moment he straightened your bent legs and put them on his shoulders, folding your body in half as he stayed at an acute angle. the tears and snot running down your face shouldn't have egged him on into ramming into you harder, faster, and dry especially.
but by the time he was leg up and full on pounding into you, you were wet enough for it. you were turned on by this, by him and his authority.
at least.
that's what he was getting from this.
you bite down on the rope as you whine through yet another orgasm and you sniffle up the snot as your free hand claws into the bed. its like you were scared to touch him. and that did hurt him a bit when he realized but the warmth. the look of vulnerability in your eyes as he does nothing but bully your gummy walls, is as addicting as drugs to him.
panting like a dog above you, he completely stops for a moment. clearly getting lightheaded as he puts one hand next to your head for stability. your eyes shoot open at the suddenness of his movements and as your eyes lock, he gives you such a conceited smirk.
pleased with his actions.
even when he's clearly overexerting himself from how pussy drunk he is.
he takes a huge breath, sitting upright and running his fingers through his hair. yanking your lifeless legs to his chest, he shifts his technique to quick and shallow thrusts. your body jolting violently against your will. but this is what he wants.
against your will.
this is his will.
this is what he wants from you.
he wants you to cum, over and over and over again until you get it into your thick head.
you have no will.
and because you have no will to control your bodily functions, your bound hand clenched in a tight fist as you cum again.
you had a wicked imprint across your face and your wrist was blood red. you couldn't didn't leave. not until he said so. and he didn't say so.
not yet.
leaning down to your ear, his hand squeezes your arm tightly as you sat in his suffocating embrace. stiff in his arms as you didn't want to engage in any touch with him. it angered him.
"do I need to use the rope again."
the dead tone he used in combination to his slow pace of words sent a sharp shiver down your spine.
with a soft exhale of a shaky breath, you hesitantly shake your head and his draped arm tugs you impossibly closer to his side.
"good." he gave you a small belittling pat on your forearm as he kissed your forehead and he's quite proud to call himself
your boyfriend.
a/n: someone pls take this trope away from me. anyway thats all for now, literally can't stop thinking about the possibilities for this. thanks to the anons that were asking for more! honestly made me more incline to post.
more writing
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thegnomelord · 5 months
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Ok, so I loved your dragon reader/ dragon price fic. The detailed courting rituals got me thinking about how different members of TF 141 react to a s/o who has different courting rituals than them.
The one rolling around in my mind rn is Gaz (which I'm pretty sure is a harpy or bird hybrid of some kind) with a dragon reader.
So Gaz tries to court reader through a more fancy version of pebbling. But, instead of giving cool rocks and sticks, it's gemstones and weapons. Yknow, expensive/fancy things that Gaz thinks the reader might want to add to his hoard.
Btw do you have an anon list? If so, is 👑 anon available?
I don't have an anon list yet but you're welcome to be 👑anon!
It's cool to think how they'd try to court you. I hc that werewolves, and Johnny by extension, are really straightforward. Like sitting way too close, hands roaming over your body, trying to lick into your mouth and going "Hey wanna make more of us?"
Ghost, the poor thing, is completely fucked bc he was human before becoming a wraith, how the Hell is he supposed to know? Que him going through Wikipedia articles and watching documentaries of your species courting and mating (having to rub one out imaging you and him in that position ofc) and just stumbling through the whole courting thing.
CW:NSFW
But Gaz? Oooh Gaz—
Safe to say he's fallen ass over tits for you.
It's the way you take care of them, of him, of the monstrous strength used to defend them turning velvet soft when Gaz needs emotional support that has his harpy hindmind demanding to lock you down before a competitor snatches you away.
Only problem — you're not a harpy. And Gaz has no idea how courtship works, as when he asks Price about it (under the guise of just being curious) the old fart just gives him an amused look and tells him to figure it out.
Though harpies and dragons are two different species, he figures there must be some similarities, so he figures to listen to the old fairy tales about your kind and looks for the shiniest thing he can find, because Harpies court by giving gifts and dragons like to hoard and both of them like shiny stuff right?
You're confused like Hell when one day you wake up to find a silver ring with a shiny amethyst sitting on your windowsill. You know for a fact it's not yours as the instinct to catalogue every item in your hoard is as old as the draconic blood running through your veins and you'd remember if you had it.
When you make sure it's not stolen and no owner can be found, (because who'd wear that type of ring in a military base?) you decide to keep it, failing to notice how the way Gaz's pupils get bigger when you put the ring in your pocket.
It is a nice ring, the shine of the gemstone tickling your brain in a pleasant way. The military doesn't allow dragons to have large hoards, most of the items you've gathered over the decades and centuries safely hidden in vaults, but it feels good to have a small hoard in your den.
You expect this to be a one off event. But. No. Every few weeks you find a new thing on your windowsill, from gems to guns to additions to weapons you've expressed you'd like to get. Each new thing leaves you scratching your head, annoyance growing bit by bit as there's never enough scent on the items to track the culprit down and it's not like you can turn the base upside down looking for them (again).
You're unsure how to feel; it's obvious someone is trying to court you, but it definitely can't be Price because no dragon would go about it like this. But you have to admit it's nice to be desired, regardless how odd the method may be.
Then you notice how Gaz has started acting. . . different. He'll ruffle his feathers and flutter his wings more than usual when you two are alone, purposely stretch more often to make your eyes naturally draw to him, sticking to your side as he talks about everything and anything under the sun.
You're also not a fool. You can figure out it's a harpy's way of trying to show off, but without any open hostility you can only assume he's trying to court you. And you let him, you like his presence and the sound of his voice, the way he gives you a lopsided smile and the way his dark feathers shine like onyx gems when the light hits them juuust right and the way he flushes and stutters when your tail wraps around his leg.
Then one late evening when you're doing paperwork you catch sight of something behind your window in the corner of your eye. Like a flash you're opening the window, your clawed hand gripping Gaz's hand before he can scatter.
Gaz's wings spread out wide, a surprised squawk leaving him as he looks into your slitted eyes. "Uh-, I, eh- Hi?" He says, gulping, his newest gift, a very shiny ruby, held in his hand. But what draws your eye are his dark feathers.
You let out an amused snort, "Hello." You purr, leaning in so your faces are close, enjoying the way he flushes from the proximity. "So you're the little thief that's been visiting me."
Gaz's feather puff up to make his silhouette twice as big, his eyes narrowing, a hurt and angry look spreading across his features. "I'm no thief!" He says, insulted that you'd suggest he can't get you gifts on his own. "I-"
"You are," You hum, reaching out your other hand to hold his jaw, and even with his anger he feels his mind croon at how softly you touch him. "You're in the process of stealing my heart."
"Oh." Is the most intelligent thing he can come up with, his pupils blowing wide like he'd just seen the shiniest thing in his life. "Oh."
"Yes," You shrug and pull your hand back to yank one of your scales out of your shoulder, giving it to him as you take the ruby. "Keep this safe for me, yeah?" You hum and then you let him go, going back to your work while he's left dumbstruck, clutching the scale close to his chest.
When it finally settles in his head that you'd just given him a gift, that you'd reciprocated, and given him a shiny gift, oh he's treating that scale like it's the most precious thing in his world. He keeps it close to him, cooing to it in the privacy of his room, keeping it on his pillow so he can fall asleep with your scent in his nose.
He also doubles down on the gifts, but now he's very open about it, to the point you'll have him randomly come into your office to give you something shiny or another weapon, preening so prettily when you praise the thing he's brought back, nuzzling into your neck and fluffing up his feathers. His heart swoons when you show him the small hoard you've made with all the things he's brought you, and you end up spending the entire evening with him cuddled up to you, chirping happily.
"Hey, can I see that scale I gave you?" You ask after a couple of weeks, curious to see how he's treated it.
"Uh, sure." Gaz can swear his heart's beating like a war drum as he watches you inspect your scale, checking for scratches or cracks.
But you find none, it's still as shiny as the day you'd given it to him. Maybe even shinier.
You smile and before he can do anything you pull him close to you by a hand on his hip. "Very well done, little thief." You hum, kissing him. Gaz melts against you, not even your lips able to muffle the happy chirps and croons that escape his chest.
You spend the next few months getting familiar with each other's bodies, lazy evenings spent with your clawed hands preening his wings, Gaz steadily melting into the bed with every brush of your fingers. Kyle taking a few extra minutes in the morning to rub his face between your wing, chirping and crooning.
Harpy mating season comes around and you're caught off guard when you come to your room to find your covers and pillows and entire wardrobe on the ground, turned into a makeshift nest with a very naked, and very horny, Gaz sitting in the middle of it.
His eyes are hazy but he knows you're there the second your scent hits his nose, the most desperate sound you've ever heard leaving his lips, bruised from how hard he'd been biting them to reign his noises in, to keep them only for you.
"Mate-" Kyle whines, shuffles in the nest that has the pretty gems he'd gifted you strewn amongst the fabric, "-need you, please- I-"
One more needy sound is all it takes to have you tumbling naked into the nest in record time, deep guttural purrs answering his pleased coos. He presses flush against you, seeking out your mouth, whole body burning up and his thighs shaking, his cock rock hard.
"I got you, pretty thief." You rumble, pulling him into your lap, his wings spreading out and feathers puffing up, as if he needs to make himself look even more desirable. "What do you need Kyle?"
"Need you," Kyle whines, pawing at your own erection, desperate fingers shaking as he strokes you, "Please- hurts, I need- mate."
You shush him with sweet kisses, your hand sliding down to very carefully stretch him open while avoiding injuring him with your claws, your mind purring at how willingly he opens up for you, wings and limbs shaking as he whimpers against your lips, his mind steadily leaking from his cock.
"You're alright," You calm him when you pull your fingers out, positioning him so your cock head rests against his entrance, not missing how Kyle preens at your strength. "Going to breed you right, gonna take care of you."
"Yes, yes, yes!" Kyle moans are loud as you steadily push your cock into him, his walls clamping down on every inch of your length. "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank- mate." His claws dig into your shoulders, clutching you tight as you bottom out in him, his hole clenching you in sync with his ragged breathing.
"I'm here," You hum, barely able to think, "Just relax, let me take care of you." You say, feeling him relax into you, and with deep purrs and lots of praise you begin to fuck him, moving him like a fleshlight on your cock, letting him moan and groan and scream his heart out uncaring who hears it, your ancient blood singing at the thought of his noises being a testament to your abilities as a mate.
Then the tight heat and the scent and just Kyle has your mind forgetting how to think, your body moving on it's own to show Kyle he'd picked a good mate.
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beelz-bub · 7 months
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Hello again Prohibitedwish nation, got a part 2 for Ya :D
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Here's part 1 🫡
*it's SFW btw, nothing crazy
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"Bigger than it seems"
(The pair reach the Time room and assist someone with a wish. Prismo gets a new perspective of the place.)
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The stairway slides open, and the pair step inside the Time Room. The entrance slammed shut behind them when Prismo moved his hand commanding it to do so. "It's a lot more stairs when you aren't just gliding across the walls, haha-" Prismo said exasperatedly.
"You're at least tall enough to walk up them normally!" Scarab huffed, his bug legs can only bend at a certain angle.
"Ahem."
An unfamiliar voice cut through their brief conversation. The stranger alarming Prismo, he assured Scarab no one would be there, and now he looks rather foolish. Prismo gasped, "Ah! Oh my glob I'm so sorry man, did you want a wish?" he asked, hurrying over to the stranger.
"Yes. Where is Prismo?" they gestured at the walls, "He fails to be here! I was promised a malevolent Wishmaster of great size and power, and arrive at this decrepit pit with no one here!" they shout, stamping their cane into the ground.
"Uh, well, you see," he fiddled with his hands, "I'm Prismo. I'll uh, grant your wish for you if you want,"
"Tsk," they laughed, "You're Prismo? What a disgrace!"
Normally Scarab would've laughed and agreed with the stranger, but he was oddly offended by this accurate statement. He pushed Prismo out of the way, "Did you want a wish, or not?" he looked down at the rude little pest, "Just spit out what you want and leave." he hissed, pure hatred filling his lungs.
Unnerved by Scarab's abrasive and cold attitude they obeyed, "Ah, w-well-" and stepped back, "I wish to increase my fortune by any means necessary!"
Prismo smiled, "Wish granted," he snapped his fingers, the creature fading out of the room into his wish-altered reality. Immediately the TV wall hissed with static, and the creature appeared, kneeling on the ground "My mansion! My beautiful house!" it cried, "All for this stupid card full of nothing!"
Scarab watched this all unfold, then turned to Prismo, "What did you do?"
He giggled, "They did say 'any means'~" Prismo picked up the remote, changing the channel to a cloudy sky, "They wanted to increase their wealth so I sold everything they had and put it all in the bank!"
"Could they just not buy it back?"
"I converted everything to money, everything is gone and he can't get it back. Also, the card is locked~"
"Huh," Scarab remarked, "Impressive." he nudged Prismo in the shoulder playfully, "Really working that malevolent wish magic huh?"
Prismo's gut felt fluttery at the compliment, "Heh, oh well it was nothing, just the usual~"
"You do good work for being as lazy as you are." Scarab stepped away, cracking his arms and back in some kind of odd means of stretching. It sounded like his bones were snapping, very disturbing.
"Ew," Prismo whispered to himself, "Hey, why don't you put that human disguise back on?" he walked in front of Scarab.
"Why?"
"Well, uh," he tried to think of some sort of justification, "I don't think you'd want to be seen hanging around me when I'm like this. Might get in trouble, so uh, just to be safe! Y'know?"
"Hm... That's some sound reasoning, very well." he did his thing, returning to that odd human form. It was different but nice. A lot softer than Scarab's usual bug-self. Not that Prismo hated it, but it was harder to read Scarab's emotions with that mask on. Scarab ran his fingers through his hair, pulling away after feeling how odd it was, "So what did you even want to do?"
"Oh! Uhm," Prismo squinted his eyes and looked around. Something about the place made him feel strange. The Time Room was a lot larger than it usually was. It was like Prismo shrunk down into a tiny little flea on the ground. The room seemed so much smaller in his usual form, "Huh, does this look weird to you too?" he asked, not really expecting a response. Just speaking out loud to himself.
"It looks the same as it always has."
"I dunno, everything feels so much bigger," he reached out his hand, "I mean look at the TV wall, it's huge! Like totally massive. Dude is this what you guys see all the time?"
"Yes?" Scarab stood beside him, "Finally witnessing what it's like to be small?"
"Yeah, man! This is crazy..." he spun around, taking in the size of the place. While he spun around, arms wide, he bumped into the jacuzzi, "Oof-"
"Ugh, what's wrong with you," Scarab mumbled, although internally, he did find Prismo rather funny. He wouldn't be caught dead laughing in front of him.
Prismo, however, began laughing hysterically, "Ah man, I really just did that!" he put his hands on the edge of the pool, "Hm... Hey Scarabby?"
"What?"
"You wanna take a dip with me?" he asked, reaching around his robe to pull it off.
"Ugh, no." he crossed his arms, looking away.
"Suit yourself, heh." he tossed off his undershirt, "Suit~" he giggled at his stupid pun.
"You are honestly so childish-" he turned around to see a shirtless Prismo struggle to get into the spa without falling in. He was immediately hit with several emotions that shot him directly in the heart. His gut reaction was to laugh. Scarab let out the most exasperated laugh, then began to get angry with himself that he let that slip, "Why are you getting in the water while still wearing pants you moron!?" he yelled, his heart beating out of his chest. He was angry at himself, his attempts at getting into the jacuzzi while still wearing pants were so funny to him. Prismo didn't need to know that, he didn't need to know about any reciprocated feelings. He was the one in control here.
"It's called..." he plopped himself in the water successfully, "I'll just dry 'em after~" he giggled, resting his arms on the edge of the pool. Scarab stood there with his pale face redder than a tomato much to his chagrin. Prismo tilted his head, "You looking a little hot over there Scarabby, you need to cool off some-"
"What did you just say to me?!" he hissed, completely embarrassed.
"Cool off bud!" Prismo stood up and splashed some of the water on Scarab.
"Augh!" he dodged the attack, "Stop that!!"
"Common~ lighten up!" he laid back, resting on the side so he could still see Scarab, "Ahh man," he sighed, closing his eyes, "That's nice... I've never felt it like this before. I think I'm getting used to these feelings all over my body man. Before it was like, kaboom! Bunch of new sensations all over my bod, but now it's like, woah! So cool-" he chuckled, "You had me all nervous before, but I think I should be good now. Y'know, in case you wanna hold hands again!"
He snarled, "Wh- why would I want to do that-!?" Scarab was frozen in place, unable to reconcile with his emotions.
"Haha!" Prismo laughed, his little hand covering his mouth, "You're so cute Scarabby~"
"I gHH-" he slammed his mouth shut with a hiss of frustration. Scarab balled his hands up into a fist, stumbling over to the spa, gripping the edge tightly while pointing at Prismo, "STOP TALKING!" His hand shook, "I loathe you to my core! You PEST, you ROT! I will rip you apart piece by piece until you are nothing but pink shreds in my claws!"
Prismo smiled, swimming over to him, and looking at him directly in the face. Scarab had pulled away as he did so. He stared into the flustered bug's eyes, holding this for a painful 10 seconds before reaching over and pecking him on the cheek. He swam back to his original spot in the jacuzzi, watching Scarab's reaction with glee.
Scarab had completely ceased, taking a minute to even process what had just happened. The rage that filled his confused mess of a brain had pushed him to attack. How dare Prismo do such a thing, it was a violation of everything he was working towards. He growled, "I'LL KILL YOU!" pushing himself over the edge, and lunging at Prismo. His claws were ready to grab him by the throat and tear him apart.
Luckily, Prismo had swiftly moved out of the way, the poor bug splashing right into the water. He moved to the other end of the spa laughing, "Hey, now you can't make fun of me anymore, you're in here with your whole suit on!" he laughed.
Scarab stood up, his arms wide out to his sides while he dripped like a soaking wet cat, "Ugh," he gritted his teeth, "I really, really hate you."
"Hehe~" a grin stretched across his face, "Alright -- let's get outta here." he stood up, walked to the edge, getting out and dripping on the floor like a wet dish. He stood there immobile for a second, "Yeesh! What is this?" he shivered, holding himself close together, "It's like my body is being stabbed with a bunch of little knives. It's so strange, ugh, it like hurts!" he looked at Scarab with pleading eyes, "W-what is this?"
He stepped out in a similar fashion, except he didn't shiver like Prismo, who stood there shivering like a dog, "You're cold." the water cooled him off a lot, he was now calm and collected. This was mostly due to Prismo's pathetic shivering.
"C-c-cold?" he reached over to his robe, Scarab jumping out of his way. Prismo touched the warm robe, bundling himself up immediately, "I don't like being cold man, this sucks, like really bad." he sniffled, "Hey! Why aren't you cold?"
"I'm cold-blooded. I'm not affected by temperature like you are."
"Oh," he sniffled again, "Maybe I shouldn't have gone in without a towel or something."
"Yeah." Scarab lifted his soggy suit, "Ugh -- can you dry us off?"
"Oh, you're so right!" he lit up, snapping his fingers. The two were now nice and dry. Prismo felt a comfortable warmth return to his human flesh, "Ahh... Much better." he slipped his arms through the robe, "Wanna go on an adventure Scarabby?"
He sighed, "I suppose."
"Great!" the two had their forms separated into a bunch of multicolored rectangles, traveling throughout time and space to a location that only Prismo knew.
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(like and share and follow and hit that notification button for part 3 or else i'll delete my account)
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half-oz-eddie · 2 months
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Had this little thought about Billy doing odd jobs as a gig worker, assembling furniture, painting rooms, mowing lawns, etc.
One day he takes a job for a very pregnant widow and she goes into labor while he's putting together a crib for her.
He hears her scream and rushes downstairs to help and finds this lady on the floor in agonizing pain. He offers to call an ambulance and the woman is screaming and shouting at him "it's too late, the baby is coming now!" and he's like "fuck oh fuck" because this lady is trying to deliver her baby right now on her fucking living room floor, but fuck it, he's still getting paid for every hour he does this gig, so this counts right?
Anyway, he props her up with a pillow and he asks her if it's okay to peek under her dress. She nods and he carefully peeks and he's like "holy shit, I can see the baby's head." So he's confused and worried because this woman keeps screaming and scraping at her carpet.
"I think uh...you're supposed to push?" And she starts pushing and she reaches for one of his hands and he's encouraging her to push and that she's safe and everything's gonna be fine.
He (somehow) successfully delivers the baby and props her up against the couch so she can hold her baby. (It's a girl) and he's crying (he doesn't know why, maybe because the baby and mom are crying and that was scary, and he just helped a human life come into the world, which is fucking insane and beautiful and he's covered in someone else's blood, not because he hurt them, but because he saved them. It's fucking surreal.)
So he calls an ambulance and rides with her to the hospital. When she's allowed visitors, he stops in with a little balloon he picked up at the gift shop and she thanks him, apologizes for screaming at him and tells him she's gonna name her daughter Billie.
He goes home and tells Steve all about little Billie and how amazing her mom is. Steve's gushing over how happy and emotional Billy is as he talks about how cute the baby was and how she grabbed his finger "with her entire little fucking hand" when he held her. Steve can't remember the last time he saw Billy light up like this, but he loves it.
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moongumi · 1 year
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⁀➷ ∵  ❝ just a human ❞
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⟶ neteyam x fem!human!reader
⟶ he should've never fallen for a human
⟶ cw. rough drabble ⭒ headcanons ⭒ jealousy ⭒ angsty ⭒ aged up ⭒ BREAKUP ⭒ interspecies relationship ⭒ alien x human ⭒ established situation-ship
⟶ note. i've never tried to write something like this before, but i was feelin angsty. lmk what you think, i dont really know what style this is but i guess its a drabble/hc kinda thing?? it's fun! not edited or anything really
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⭒ it wasn't obvious when things started to change, but slowly it became more and more noticeable the way you were being treated.
⭒ he'd leave early in the day before you'd even wake up, when he'd come back he'd say that he was in a rush and didn't think.
"i didn't mean to okay?" he said, bluntly. he moves past you rather quickly. "you wouldn't have been up yet, anyway."
your eyebrows are stitched together, feeling that odd feeling inside your chest as if something was wrong. it felt like a bad time to press matters, even if it hurts to keep those feelings in.
"you could've still asked, i would've gone with you."
neteyam sighs, putting away his bow. his eyes can't meet yours, darting anywhere but at them. "yea, i know."
⭒ you can't pinpoint the reason for his coldness. inside the lab, everyone could feel it. you weren't good at hiding your feelings but neither was he.
⭒ kiri likes to visit her mom, bring lo'ak and neteyam who's body stiffens the seconds he sees you. it wasn't just him though, they all seemed to be acting differently. only kiri remained truly nice to you.
"hey!" kiri waves her hand at you as if there wasn't a huge chill in the room from the tension.
you smiled at her from your desk, continuing with your daily reports without uttering a word.
⭒ neteyam can't keep his feelings off his face, it was obvious. his coldness was within reason, it was out of his control even if he hates it.
⭒ it hurts him to see you that way. alone most of the day, no one really your age since you were closer in range with them. most were far beyond adulthood and nothing much to really talk to about.
⭒ you were the closest to kiri, and well kiri couldn't help it but talk to you. he notices the way you've been avoiding her now, because of him.
⭒ it wasn't until the day that neteyam noticed you weren't in the lab, that his heart leaps and feels that surging feeling of impending doom.
"she went out in the morning," one of the lab guys said. neteyam rushes to your desk, the same one you've always sat at and looks through piles of sticky notes and journals. his large hands practically destroying everything in it's path.
a gasp from behind him was heard, "what are you doing neteyam, she's going to be so pissed you decided to ruin her stuff."
kiri didn't seem to feel that awful gut feeling he felt. he turns to her with a frantic look on his face, finally looking over at the monitor to find a sticky note with your small handwriting, 'out for the day, i think it's hunting season but don't worry, i'll be back later.'
"she's not stupid," kiri said, following her brother as he gathers his weapons and ionar. he was on a mission, his lips are in the tight line.
neteyam shakes his head, going towards the edge of the cliffs where his ikran rests, "i know, but right now she's really stupid–she knows it's hunting season why would she go?"
"i'm sure she's fine."
⭒ you were indeed fine. but neteyam was not.
⭒ neteyam rushes off his ikran with a mission. angry rushes through his bones as he pushes himself through the vegetation to spot you with a boy, a na'vi boy.
"what are you doing?"
you seemed unphased by him. not even bothering to reply. this seemed to make his blood boil by the second. the na'vi boy looks awkwardly been the two of you.
"and what are you doing here?"
the na'vi boy stutters, unable to say a word to the first born son of the clan leader.
your voice was flat, lacking emotion, "he gave me a ride." you get up off the ground, hands filled with bags of random plants and rocks.
⭒ he's never been so annoyed. he didn't think he'd get jealous easily, he thought things like this wouldn't bother him.
⭒ lo'ak always bothered him, pointing out his mood which doesn't make it any better.
"just talk to her man, she'll hate you forever if you don't."
⭒ he did. he talked to you, he stood there. the boy you liked, stands there telling you how he couldn't be with you. he was scared, of his feelings and what others would think.
you scoff, angrily you shoved him. pointing at him, "you of all people, i didn't think would care so much of what people think."
"i don't, i–look, my mother doesn't like humans, she hates spider–he's like my brother and she never sees him," he explains. feeling the moisture in his eyes gather, he wipes them off quickly. his eyes trail the ground at your feet.
you look away, "so it's your mom?"
"it's everyone," he kicks the ground, "i should've never fallen for a human."
"is that what you see us as?"
his eyebrows are stitched together, unable to form words as his mind is frazzled.
"aliens, i am just a human to you–not anything more." it hurts, it really does.
⭒ it was then that you listed the possibilities of what was wrong with you. what didn't you have that he wanted. you didn't want to believe that he would let that affect him, what others think or see.
⭒ he's lying to himself, he kicks himself after being reminded of how much of a skxawng he was.
⭒ tuk found out what he did, she was really angry. she really liked you, you always took her places with you. everytime she'd see neteyam she'd hiss at him.
"hah, she hates you," kiri sings. she's also not his biggest fan after finding out from the source how much of his asshole her brother was.
⭒ it was then, they needed to leave. to save the tribe–to save everyone. neteyam and his family had to leave.
⭒ the weather was awful that day, as if even eywa knew. he's completely covered in rainwater, head to toe trying to find you.
⭒ you're saying bye to kiri and tuk.
"you're not coming?" it was the first words he'd spoken to you since, almost a month ago. it wasn't like he didn't try, his mouth always tried to say something but the moment you'd spot him–felt his energy, you were gone, avoiding him like the plague.
kiri took tuk away, knowing that this was about to get dirty. you shrugged, watching the way the water fell from his pretty face after not really getting a look at him all this time, "what do you mean?"
"since you're saying bye, i assume you know–but you're not going with us? but you're my fa–"
an ironic laugh leaves your lips, interrupting him, "i'm just a human, neteyam, i know my place."
⭒ neteyam never had felt heartbreak before, not before today. irony, your heart broke a month ago. he'd not only lost his home, but he lost...his true home.
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end note. if you made it this far I HAVE A TAGLIST, if you wanna be tagged that is <;3
© moongumi 2023. all rights reserved, do not copy and publish my writing anywhere else.
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sugar-grigri · 2 months
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Let's make the revolution, but let's make it right s’il vous plaît…
Yes I need to take a break but I'm not only tired but I'm fucking autistic so let me say two quick words
I think Haruka is a character worth exploring, and that he's deeper than the comic relief he seems to be, because I think he's a very good representation of adolescence.
Yoshida doesn't live his adolescence as a public hunter, Asa almost rejects the experiences because of her social isolation and emotional problems, which implies that they are teenagers but want to carry the weight of suffering like adults.
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And what is Haruka? The perfect example of the mix between childhood and coming-of-age.
Denji is unable to experience adolescence because he has been deprived of his childhood, or even his humanity, and his interactions lead inexorably to rejection and suffering.
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Haruka, on the other hand, is a useful standard by which to compare the other characters' failings in exploring their own adolescence.
Haruka is portrayed as arrogant, but not as negatively pretentious, but as an over-confident teenager, following a role model to the point of pretending to be him, of having a false cable across his chest.
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He's also hard on the others, representing those teenagers who never minced their words when pressing Asa's failures, just as he remains deeply human, panicking, relying on his role model to save him.
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Above all, his typical teenage behavior and funny yet profoundly candid personality are at odds with what adolescence is all about: realizing the world we live in.
If Chainsaw Man is so popular with teenagers, it's first and foremost because he remains anonymous, so everyone can see what they want in his face, but he's also an element of confrontation with the established order.
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When I say that Chainsaw Man is a fairly mathematical manga, it's because everything fits together perfectly: if teenagers can make Chainsaw Man an object of protest, or even make it their own design, it's precisely because they don't see Denji behind Chainsaw Man.
If everything finds its balance, it's because the teenagers see in Chainsaw Man something superior, to the point of making him a model, an ideology, while Denji, the boy behind the mask, puts himself in the position of standing outside normality.
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Denji can't belong to normality, since Chainsaw Man's interest is in disrupting the established order, whether it's the dominance of demons or what parents think.
So he's in a position of literal support, since his only point of interaction is to be acclaimed without being recognized.
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It's interesting that Haruka's here, because he's a Chainsaw Man fan.
Denji has been a figure in the shadows, supporting a teenager in need of guidance in spite of himself.
He was the savior of a humanity prey to demons in spite of himself
But from a more symbolic point of view, Denji is literally dismembered, because carrying this on his shoulders as a teenager, even though his rank is denied, leads not only to exhaustion and withdrawal, but also to a literal breakdown.
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It's as if the chair has just cracked... then the adolescence that stood over it also collapses...
People love Denji with difficulty, while he loves them with ease
People adore Chainsaw Man and completely ignore Denji's plight
Teenagers need to see Denji, to see his state of dismemberment, to see every last part of his being instrumentalized.
Because that's what he is, an image from which everyone can pick and choose to see what's missing.
That's why Asa has a missing arm, because she's in the position of a savior who doesn't wallow in her lack and compensate for it with Chainsaw Man, but focuses on the mission of putting him back together.
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We repeat: the teenagers have projected themselves into Chainsaw Man as a means of fighting against the established order.
But isn't projecting oneself and being saved by Chainsaw Man precisely what the established order is all about?
Wouldn't it be revolutionary to save a savior who has always asked to be saved? Just as the suffering of the people has been ignored has needed saving
Revolution... represented by what?
Guillotine.
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And that's precisely where I find it all interesting, because Haruka effectively compensates with Chainsaw Man in everything he lacks, when he was portrayed completely panicked during the aquarium arc, Denji was serene. Haruka may have a cable on his chest, but he'll never dare pull it.
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This absence of fear is what keeps Chainsaw Man a machine. Denji has no self-worth, not a little arrogance like Haruka, so he's not afraid of danger. Whereas what constitutes adolescence is precisely the fact of becoming attached, of having things you value and are not afraid of being deprived of.
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Above all, being an adolescent gives you a protective status, protected by society. So Haruka experiences what Denji experienced: being deprived. Deprived of what he holds dear. Deprived of his status as a child protected to be a terrorist. Haruka is a teenager who needs to be protected, but is now seen as a terrorist, a threat to order.
To be a threat to the established order, while at the same time being guaranteed by it, is the exact ambivalence of what Chainsaw Man is, and what Haruka is experiencing, being in the shoes of his savior in an attempt to save him.
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The guillotine demon has an interesting design, a huge bird as a kind of almost inanimate ornament, to emphasize its interior, a piece of skeleton hanging headless. How does it feel to be close to decapitation? We suffer in anticipation of what we're going to miss: our head, death, the skeleton, and what we're going to leave the world, a body that's missing something.
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Just as others must learn to compensate for their own insecurities, Denji must allow himself to feel his own, and instead of accepting suffering, to compensate for it like a human being with his nearest and dearest, his entourage, his family.
Because the right behavior is not to artificially complete oneself by rejecting one's fear and accepting one's suffering, but to accept one's incompleteness in order to be better influenced and completed by others. That's why Denji's loved ones are there to help him, even though he's been cut into pieces. Just as the teenagers saw in Fami, whom they reject, this guillotine, both reversing the order and focusing on what they lack, poor children in identity crisis.
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We're in a bit of a pre-French Revolution mood, which I like, so let's embrace it completely by concluding with a quote from one of France's bloodiest revolutionaries, Robespierre:
"First of all, you should know that I am not the defender of the people; I have never claimed that lavish title; I am one of the people, that's all I've ever been, and that's all I want to be; I despise anyone who pretends to be anything more."
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To make a revolution not to overthrow the order, but to be a simple, incomplete, imperfect teenager.
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chuthulhu-reads · 11 months
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[ID: A panel from Trigun Maximum. It's a close-up of Vash's face, looking exhausted and sweating heavily. Enough of his shoulder scars are visible to show that he's shirtless. His odd posture is because, as revealed in a previous page, he's being forced into a one-armed handstand by Legato. Vash is saying, "Believe me, Knives, I have seen the dead plants. All of them had the black hair. They weren't the bodies of plants who had lived their natural lifespan. They were the bodies of plants who had been abused and pushed past their limits." End ID.]
Knives saw one plant die and went on a mass-murder tantrum; the feeling is understandable, if not the actions. To him, I wonder if this sounds like Vash not giving a shit about their sisters, because he's found multiple dead plants before, knows what the black hair means, and hasn't done any murders about it.
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[ID: Two panels from Trigun Maximum. In the first, Vash is looking down, his expression is entirely shadowed aside from his gritted teeth as he says, "...There is no other way for humans to live on this barren desert planet. They are forced... to rely on plants... on us." The second panel shows Knives, though mostly obscured by Vash's dialogue, so we can't see his reaction to Vash's words. End ID.]
However, we can tell from Vash's expressions and from knowing who Vash is as a person that it hurt, finding dead plants. He's grieved for every single one; given that we've seen him take the time to respectfully bury people who were trying to kill him, he's definitely given funeral rites to the dead plants. The difference between him and Knives is that he has the emotional maturity to experience anger/hurt and also coherent thought at the same time, and he's aware that humans don't kill plants out of malice. Many of them love and revere plants; even the coldest know that it's outright stupid to kill plants, who are essential to human life on Gunsmoke. The necessity of a Last Run is questionable, but it's undeniable that they feel they have no other choice, and Vash is aware of that. He's aware that, given better circumstances, humans wouldn't be killing plants. (I think Vash would love The Good Place, seeing as it's all about unpacking the many forces that drive people to do bad things and explores the potential people have for goodness, if only given the opportunity.)
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[ID: Two panels from Trigun Maximum. The first shows Knives frowning slightly as Vash says, "You're quick to forget, Knives... that you caused all of this." The second panel shows Vash, still in his forced handstand but managing to hold his head up enough to glare at Knives with absolute fury as he says, "The reason for all of this... the one thing that started this... was the Big Fall!" End ID.]
And, knowing that humans have been forced into a position with very limited choices, Vash is feeling just as much rage as Knives... but it's all pointed at the person whose choices put them all here in the first place.
Just because Vash isn't throwing murder tantrums doesn't mean he isn't angry, and god I love it when kind characters are allowed to be furious. The emotions are not contradictory. Rage isn't the opposite of compassion; often, it's a direct result. Vash simply has the emotional maturity to hold onto the anger, simmer it into wrath, and direct it where it's deserved.
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fresne999 · 7 months
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Half way through the journey of our analyses
I feel like roughly half of the analysis I'm reading about OFMD S2 is folks who clearly fixated on a character (it's Izzy, it's always Izzy that inspires this kind of analysis) write analyses that cause the 2nd response of, "Um…did you ever study literary analysis in school."
Now I come at this from a slightly odd place in that I did study literary analysis in school (30+ years ago) where I learned it's possible to interpret anything about any way, because we're all bringing different lenses to the analysis. Which isn't to say that an author can't have an intended interpretation. 
Dante in Canto V of Inferno (Divine Comedy) would still like folks to understand fixating on the two damned-lovers and ignoring the details that the artist is putting in there for you to catch about how they are damned because they won't change the toxic patterns that got them there in the first place. Also, they can't because they are in hell, and hell is like that. That Dante-the-writer had Dante-the-character swoon over those same two damned-lovers (because Dante-the-character is on a journey of moral correction) is hilarious, but doesn't make it any less the point of that section of the work, but I digress.
As a career, I am very aware that folks love to misinterpret what is meant to be very clear instructions. Of course, I'm writing policies and procedures, which is a bit different from writing fiction, and is worlds away from creating a t.v. show. But that's the life experience that I always bring to literary analysis. Frequently, people choose their interpretations to fit what they want to see, and that's part of being human.
I've seen a fair number of folks interpret Izzy's redemption arc in S2 as one of a queer man struggling with disabilities and mental health issues whose struggle is made meaningless by his demise. Which sure, you could interpret it that way and in that it's coming from I'm sure an emotional place, I get it. And hmmm… I might give this interpretation more credence  if I hadn't read a lot of Izzy analysis for S1 that was wildly different than the text.
So let's take a step back. 
First, know the rules of the literary universe: OFMD is a show where the reality is not ours. It is either the Core Universe or something very close to it. BTW: If you've never heard of Core Universe or read the seminal BtVS+HtLJ "When Hellmouth's Collide" (https://www.ltljverse.com/index2.htm), a Core Universe is one where everything lines up. Row boats are magic, and where there is a Badminton, he will accidentally stab/shoot himself. 
Terminology more befitting of that fancy literature degree might be to say that OFMD functions along the logic of Magical Realism. Characters will appear briefly for the purposes of the story and then disappear not to be mentioned again (Nana, Calico Jack, Mary Read & Anne Bonny). Things align because they are meant to align. It is a universe where the Gravy Basket is a real place, and meant to be taken seriously.  It's also a universe where a man may become a seagull, because he loves the sea. You change for love, but the ways you change may be positive or toxic. 
They can result in a bird that never gets to know rest. Always flying over the sea. Or they lead to becoming a bird, who can float in the sea or land on a unicorn's leg. 
Transformation. 
Anyway, S1 - Stede commissioned a ship with secret passageways. It did not have a buxom mermaid on the prow, nor something more befitting a ship named the Revenge. He commissioned a unicorn prow and went off to become a pirate. 
A not particularly violent pirate. But a pirate who didn't have a problem with the violence of piracy. See Stede telling Lucius (hardest working man on the ship in S1) to take notes during a violent raid where the show's logo was literally carved into the chest of a dead man. 
BTW: The tone about violence is darker in S2, but the violence was there in S1. It was just presented in a more whimsical way. The nose jar was full of noses in S1. We heard about Blackbeard's violence. A man was skinned alive off screen, but we focused on the Prussian (but also sort of French) party. 
What Izzy needed to be redeemed from was established in S1. The problem is that folks who interpreted Izzy as a) the central focus of the show and b) a put upon manager just trying to do right by his crew (or as one Tumblerina referred to him as the man/father of the family going out to hunt - excuse me while I vomit - and support his family as men must do), are not going to understand what Izzy's S2 arc was all about. 
Ed and Stede are the main characters in a romantic story. There are other characters with their own arcs, but they are the main characters.
In S1, Stede created a safe space where characters had a chance to breathe for the first time. Possibly ever, and as a result revisited parts of themselves they'd lost. Wee John got back in touch with his roots as the son of a seamstress. Frenchie got back to what he loves, scamming the rich. The Swede sang like a siren of the sea, because it doesn't always have to be scary. 
Ed had his first good time in years. After expressing suicidal ideation to Izzy because of his terminal boredom in S1.E4 - Discomfort in a Married state, Ed found himself some balance. Some sweet marmalade. 
Ed and Izzy were in a toxic relationship that only reinforced their toxic behavior. And yes, I'm going to overuse the word toxic. While piracy is a place where you can go be yourself and shag whoever you want (whatever happens at sea stays at sea), it's not a place where you can be soft. Gentle. Emotionally open. Available. 
Ed's only path out that he could see at the time was to plan to skin the face of the man who built a ridonculous boat with a unicorn on the prow and wear it for the rest of his life. A plan to send Stede to Doggy Heaven. 
BTW: This is why Izzy uses the line in S2.E3 - the Innkeeper, that they put Ed down like a mad dog, so that Stede could reply that they sent Ed to Doggy Heaven. Reiterating this concept of piracy as violence, as taking away faces / identity / lives, but also losing one's own. Forgetting even what day of the year it is. Also revealing that Stede knew about Ed & Izzy's plan to murder him, send Stede to doggy heaven, and had moved on. 
This is also why the respite in S2.E4 - Fun and Games is so critical. Mary Read/Anne Bonney are portrayed as direct parallels to Stede/Ed. They are selling what are, no doubt, the spoils of their piracy. But they've chosen a remote location with no community, but each other and a life where they are not actually communicating. Which on its surface is where Ed and Stede end up, and yet…the Revenge can sail back. They are on the shore facing the sea, not in a jungle lost from a clear view. I'll quote the relevant Dante in just a bit, never fear.
Ed and Stede's new inn has the potential for a solid foundation, because the unicorn has been planted firmly in the ground, and if we get an S3, I firmly expect the unicorn leg to have transformed into a tree, because I've read a lot of medieval literature and that's how that sort of thing works. 
Well, it could be a penis tree (this was a thing in medieval marginalia), but somehow I don't think it will be. 
 But I'm getting a little ahead of myself.
Back in S1, the plan to murder Stede and take his identity broke down despite Izzy trying to perform an intervention to get Ed back into the toxic soup, and ended with Ed curled up in a bathtub and opening up about murdering his father. An image the show chose to flash on the screen multiple times in S2 just in case folks forgot that this was a traumatizing event for Ed, and was itself the culmination of years of traumatic abuse at his father's hands. 
Just as Stede kept flashing back to the moment his father tells him what it is to be a man, and kills an animal, the blood splashing on Stede's wee little face. 
That this is the point of the show. Transforming past trauma. It's there. You always carry the scars. Sometimes, you decide to tattoo yourself with the image of the thing you fear, and then the thing you fear is always there, but you've got to keep moving forward. To stay in one place, to stay trapped in the same emotion/action, is hell. I've read a lot of lit crit of Dante's Inferno. Trust me, it's the same thing.
Izzy's redemption arc is firmly based in the events of S1E6 - Here Dragons Be, because it's where the pustule of his relationship with Ed breaks. His attempted intervention fails to get Ed to kill Stede, so Izzy tries to kill Stede. Not realizing that a) Stede is a main character and b) this is a Core Universe show. Where it's possible to win a duel by being stabbed in the left side of your gut and stay there for many hours and not die. So he loses the 1 thing that defines him, his job. 
Izzy's redemption arc is firmly based in the events of s1E8 - We Gull Way Back, where he enlists Calico Jack to lure Ed off the boat (with all the toxic masculinity that entailed) so that the British could show up and shoot the head off the unicorn, and kill Stede. So Izzy can crawl back into his old patterns / job / life. 
Izzy's redemption arc is firmly based in the big drama confrontation in S1E10 - Wherever You Go There You Are, when as a person whose entire identity is tied up in being Blackbeard's First Mate and after realizing that he couldn't cut it as a captain on his own, he does whatever the f- he can to get Ed back into the toxic soup so he can get his old role/job back.  
This isn't to say that Ed's off the deep end actions in S2.E1&2 aren't his own choices. He is a main character. His emotional arc is one of the driving forces of the show. But they are the choices of a man who wants to die. After a lifetime of violent action that had been increasingly drowning him, he wants to die in the violence of battle, but the enemy are never good enough. He wants Izzy to kill him, but Izzy won't. Until he does…sort of. He wants to die in a storm. He's carving notches on his wall hoping to lure Ned Low to him so that he can die in pain. But Ed is the devil and does not die.
Except Ed's not the devil. He doesn't have a head made of smoke. He's a man. Not a fisherman. Not a fisher of men, and what an interesting attempt to go Christ himself off into the wilderness only to be fired for not being that good at it, and then receive his letter from the deep. 
Because in a show full of magical realism, the bottles with messages will reach the intended recipient eventually.
"In the middle of the journey of our life, I came to myself in a dark wood for the straight way was lost. Ah, how hard a thing it is to say what that wood was. So savage and harsh and strong, that the thought of it renews my fear. It is so bitter that death is little more so. But to speak of the good that I found there, I will tell of the other things I saw…and like one with laboring breath comes forth from the deep onto the shore, who turns back to the perilous water and stares, so my spirit still fleeing turned to gaze upon the pass that has never left anyone alive." Dante, Canto 1, Inferno. 
Instead of dying, Ed goes not to Purgatory (sorry I'd quote the opening lines, but Inferno actually works better here), but to the Gravy Basket, where he confronts the spirit of Hornigold. Dead spirit. Aspect of Ed's self. Both. Neither. Hated. Self. Unkillable. 
Is saved by a goldfish incarnation of Stede. 
But just as the imaginary as Stede's vision of what / who he thinks he needs to be for Ed, this is not true. Life being what it is, Ed and Stede rush when they need to go slow. They break apart because they are saying words, but the other person is hearing based on their own interpretation. 
BTW: The clue Dante-the-writer gives the reader in Canto V of Inferno is how one of the damned lovers, Francesca, explains how she hooked up with her brother-in-law, Paulo. She describes reading an Arthurian romance. She and Paulo kissed when Gwenevere and Lancelot kissed in the story. Except the version they are reading (and Dante tells the reader which version this is) was intended as a cautionary tale. Also, Paulo and Francesca were real people who were murdered by Francesca's husband when he caught them together. So there is that too.
I always like it in fiction when characters misinterpret each other because they hear based on their life experiences and don't hear the things that are said/unsaid based on the life experiences of the other person speaking. That's good writing. It's also how we end up with wildly varying interpretations of works of fiction.
But I digress.
Izzy's S2 arc is that he must let go of his relationship with Ed and turn to others. He must learn to let go of toxic masculinity and let in softness. Not weakness. Water is not weak, but it is soft. Calypso, goddess of the sea, is not weak. Her birthday is whatever day you need it to be. She is vast and deep and soft and relentless. 
In Ro-sham-bo, it's a shame that there is not a gesture for water. Because it is not paper that defeats stone, but water that wears away the stone. Of course, scissors wouldn't do much to water either, so that would sort of break Ro-sham-bo, so I suppose it must stay as it is.
It is through a craft's project that the crew of the Revenge find healing. Turn Izzy into the unicorn. A unicorn that Izzy's own actions caused to be decapitated with a British cannon ball in S1. That Izzy rendered legless (drunk). But the Revenge is a boat. They just need to swim/sail. It is through a craft's project that Izzy is able to offer healing to Lucius, who in turn is then able to turn their art away from fixating on Ed, and the trauma that he's been through and back towards love, and Black Pete. 
But it's not possible to see Izzy's S2 arc, if you didn't interpret S1 Izzy as needing to go through his own gravy basket. 
That Izzy dies because his transformation is necessary. He can't leave Ed, and if he doesn't leave Ed, then Ed can't stop being Blackbeard. The kracken. He literally tells Ed this as he chooses to transform. To free the world of Blackbeard, so Ed can be Ed. Yet, I've read so many posts by folks saying, "But why did he have to die?" Which sure, you can choose not believe what the character says while dying.
Which is a narrative privilege. To get a good dying speech. "There he is" get to be transmutted from an attack to an actual seeing. The larger than life concept of a smoke headed pirate can waft away.
Stories are hard to kill. They live on long past us, and as long as someone is remembered, especially in a universe like OFMD, we live. 
Though always reject the gift of a clock. That's someone telling you that you've only got so many hours left of life. If you are a character in a story. 
Thus the other parallel in this season is Izzy to Auntie and Ed to Zheng Yi Sao. Auntie must allow Zheng softness. Izzy must go through a sea change to something new and strange. Also, this would be a case of Doylistically the writers needed to line up Olu with Stede for that to work, and thus the new configurations of Olu and Jim's relationship, which, shrug, could be poly. Could be friends to lovers to friends.  Woulda, coulda, had more time, but that's on Max for not giving us 2 more episodes.
Prince Richard was trying to become a concept, but was too in love with the mechanics of it. Stede was trying to become a concept too. Found his fame, and all too quickly the toxic end of that particular route. Magical Realism was on his side until he tried to face down Zheng Yi Sao, the Queen of Pirates, and then the rules of the story weren't. Because those clocks were ticking. Everyone was in a very dark wood. The memory of blood splashed on Stede's face as a little boy was a warning. It was a reminder. It was the wrong lessons we take from our childhood and must unlearn to become whole.
Having the final shot of the show being Buttons landing on the unicorn leg as a reminder that this is a show about transformation. One thing becoming another thing. Somewhere the dead are dancing in Calypso's court. A dance below the sea and on the sea and with the sea. While the living keep sailing on their magic ship to do…I don't know. 
Because the Golden Age of Piracy is coming to an end. They'll go create new worlds and new places to be. Transforming.
If we get no more of the show, this is a resolution.
Since I've been quoting Dante, I'm going to end this with the final vision in Paradiso. Because folks who haven't been reading my analysis for the last 30 years / read it, may not realize that the Divine Comedy (a story that begins in sorrow and ends in joy) ends with the vision of a 3 way rainbow. 
"In the profound and shining Being of the deep Light, three circles appeared, of three colours, and one magnitude: one seemed refracted by the other, like Iris’s rainbows, and the third seemed fire breathed equally from both. O how the words fall short, and how feeble compared with my conceiving!…Power, here, failed the deep imagining: but already my desire and will were rolled, like a wheel that is turned, equally, by the Love that moves the Sun and the other stars."
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fandomxpreferences · 1 year
Text
Two Lines, Two Idiots Chapter Three: An Odd Alliance
Series Masterlist
Pairing: Twin Brother JJ! x Maybank! Reader, rafe Cameron! x maybank!reader (all over 18)
TW:pregnancy, I actually think thats it
Summary: You and Rafe talk things out and JJ and John B realize something.
Word Count:1.9k
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Rafe showing up at the chateau is the last thing you expected, and probably the worst thing he could've done. 
The sentiment isn't lost on you, but it's been less than ten minutes since JJ found out the truth. Even though he made a promise, you have to admit it's tempting when Rafe just offered himself up on a silver platter. 
"You son of a bitch!"
You know your brother better than anyone, which is exactly why your hand flies out to stop him before he can even lunge. Your back is turned, but you know you were right when you feel his chest slam into your forearm. 
"Okay, I think we should step aside."
It's less of a suggestion and more of an instruction as you glare at your brother, and Rafe lets you lead the way. 
You start toward the chateau and don't stop until you're seated on the bed in the guest room, far away from prying eyes and ears. 
You stare up at the man expectantly, your arms crossed over your chest as if it'll protect your heart from further damage.
Rafe is the perfect image of anxiety as he paces the room gnawing on his lip until you're sure it's going to bleed. His hands fidget as he plays with the ring on his forefinger, and you swear you can see the faint beginnings of sweat on his forehead. 
He practiced in his head the whole way over, but being in front of you now it all seems to be slipping his mind. He has so much to say, yet no words to express it. 
This is the side of Rafe no one sees; even you've only experienced it one other time after he had a fight with Ward. 
It's part of why you kept sleeping with him; he's so human like this. It becomes painfully obvious once the armor comes off that deep down Rafe is traumatized and longing for someone to understand him. 
To love him and choose him. 
Under the snarky cruelty, he's just a person. It's not that Rafe can't be vulnerable or show his emotions; it's that he's afraid to. 
For as long as he could talk he's had it drilled into his head that 'Cameron's don't cry' and that one day he'll be the man of the family. He had so much put on him at such a young age, it's no wonder he crumbled under the pressure. 
The forgotten child that can never seek guidance, but is punished and ridiculed when they make the wrong choice. 
You wait patiently for him to calm down, but when he doesn't, your hand reaches out and grabs his. He halts his movements, his eyes fluttering closed as your calmness seems to transfer to him. 
His panic starts to subside and unbeknownst to both of you, his heartbeat slowly syncs with yours. He just breathes for a moment before kneeling in front of you. 
Seeing Rafe open up willingly is something you would never expect, but apparently finding out you're having a child changes you in an instant. 
He isn't sure what he wants, but he's dead set on what he doesn't want. He doesn't want his kid to grow up fatherless and asking questions. 
He doesn't want you to go through this alone and he doesn't want to try and sleep at night not knowing every little thing about how your pregnancy is going. 
He doesn't want to be left wondering; forced to imagine what his son or daughter is like as he pretends they don't exist. 
"I'm sorry I left earlier. I freaked out and I didn't want to snap at you." 
His voice is so gentle it makes your head spin, and your hand reaches up to caress his now stubbled cheek in an admittedly intimate gesture. 
"It's okay. I kind of dropped it on you. I'd rather you walk away and cool off than start a fight. Just tell me that next time."
He nods his head and passes over your use of the phrase next time. He hopes this doesn't happen again; he hates the idea of walking away from you no matter the circumstances.
"I took some time to think, and I want you to know I'm here. I don't know what we are or what you want us to be, but we can figure it out as we go. I want to be around for every single thing, whether it's holding your hair back or going out to get you food ten times in one night."
You mull over his confession and swallow the lump in your throat. Your silence seems to last forever and Rafe gets more nervous with every second. 
You could easily tell him to fuck off and he couldn't do a damn thing about it except try to change your mind. Something in him knows you wouldn't do that though. 
"Okay. You can be as involved as you want and we can see where the relationship goes. But Rafe, once you decide you're all in you can't back out. I'm not doing the one foot in one foot out bullshit. So are you sure?"
He doesn't hesitate before answering, his head turning to press a kiss to your palm.
"I'm sure. I'm 100% all in."
The smile you give him is blinding and you nod your head. 
"Okay then."
He leans forward and presses a sweet kiss to your lips before pulling back with wide eyes. 
"Shit, I'm sorry. I've just gotten so used to-"
You cut him off with a giggle and give him a peck. 
"It's okay, Rafe. I don't mind."
You see him visibly relax at your reassurance and grab his hand before standing. You can practically feel the nerves rolling off him in waves as you lead him back to the group, your brother and John B leaping to their feet as soon as they see you. 
"Down, boys. We talked it out, everything is fine. He's going to be involved as much as he can."
JJ eyes Rafe suspiciously, his gaze scrutinizing every inch of his body as it travels all the way down to his feet and back up.
"So are you two together or what?" 
You look at Rafe before turning to John B and shrugging your shoulders. 
"Or what. We're figuring it out as we go."
He doesn't mention the fact your hands are laced together, or the pure adoration in Rafe's eyes as they stay glued to your figure. 
"If you even think about hurting her-"
Rafe cuts JJ off with a curt nod and clears his throat. 
"I'm dead, I get it. Trust me, bro, that's one thing you and I see eye to eye on."
JJ's lip quirks for a fraction of a second, and you know that everything is going to be okay. You make your way over to your original seat, JJ and Rafe taking their places on either side of you. Rafe figures he might as well get acquainted seeing as he's tied to the group for the rest of his life now. 
"So," Sarah starts, and everyone adjusts to face her. 
"Have you been to the doctor yet?"
You shake your head and your eyes flit to look at Rafe, a relieved expression blanketing his face. 
"No, I just found out today. I haven't had a chance to make an appointment."
Rafe squeezes your hand and brings it to his mouth, pressing a featherlight kiss to your knuckles. 
"We can call tomorrow. I want to be there."
JJ and John B share a look at the sweet gesture, taken aback at how domestic Rafe is acting. They've seen him around with a lot of women, and not once has he ever shown any form of affection. 
It doesn't go unnoticed the way you lean into his touch, the same sparkle in your eyes when you look at Rafe that he has when looking at you. They silently wonder if the two of you know, but the way your eyes quickly avert when you catch either staring tells them you don't. 
JJ can't stop himself from asking the question everyone is thinking, his curiosity and nosiness getting the best of him. 
"How long has this been going on? Does anyone else know?"
You stare at the ground as you answer, not wanting to see the pain you know is going to be on your brother's face. 
"About six months. No one else knows."
You already know exactly what JJ looks like as you hear him exhale a long sharp breath. He can't believe that not only were you sleeping with the enemy, but that you hid it for half a year. He thought the two of you were closer than that. 
Granted, he knows he wouldn't have reacted in the best way; that much was proven tonight. Still, he assumed you knew he would love you no matter what. 
"Wait, so what are you gonna tell Dad?"
Sarah's voice cuts through the air like a hot knife through butter and sinks straight into your chest. You hadn't thought about that yet; the mere idea has panic crawling up your throat. 
Rafe has though, and he seems prepared as he spits out his response the second she's done speaking. 
"The truth. I'm a grown man, and if he doesn't like it then he can shove it."
He says it so casually that it almost brings you comfort. Almost.
"Rafe, he hates Pogues. But a Maybank of all people? He's going to do everything in his power to stop this, and I think we both know that his reach is pretty much unlimited."
Your voice trembles as you speak the words out loud, and Rafe has you wrapped in his arms in an instant. 
"Hey, I'm a Cameron too. He isn't going to hurt you, I promise. I'll make sure of that." 
You can't help but feel his words have an underlying meaning, but you don't press the subject. You know Rafe has been involved in some shady shit, to say the least, and you don't want to know how far he's willing to go to make good on his promise. 
You nod into his shoulder, your breathing subconsciously matching his as you calm down from your impending anxiety attack. 
"You know you have to tell him soon, right? I mean, word travels fast on the island and it's gonna be a lot worse if he hears it through the grapevine." 
Rafe and JJ both shoot Sarah a harsh glare, and she raises her hands defensively as the two men stare at her like Dobermans ready to attack.
"I'm just trying to be the voice of reason."
You feel Rafe heave a breath and nuzzle further into him. 
"We can go to the appointment first and confirm everything, then tell him." You decide and Rafe kisses the top of your head with a nod. 
"Sounds good to me."
The night wraps up and Rafe is about to head out when he's stopped by a hand on his shoulder. He turns around and comes face to face with your brother, mentally bracing for whatever's about to happen. 
"I can see that you care about her, so as far as I'm concerned, we're cool. We can't change the situation and I don't want any more bad blood in my family. That being said, if your dad so much as looks at her sideways, I'm going to rip his eyes out." 
JJ's expecting a snarky response, and his eyebrows shoot up when Rafe looks as serious as he does. 
"You'll have to beat me to it."
At that, Rafe turns on his heel and climbs into his truck, leaving behind a stunned JJ.
@i-love-rafe @itsmytimetoodream@brynley-a-xoxo@whore4drew@houseofperfecttaste@everythingmarveltopgun@f4ll-for-you@athenabarnes@antagonize-me-motherfucker@writtenwordslover@madsnxo @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @starrystarkey93 @keylin1730 @fulla02 @loving-and-dreaming @evening-starlight @ibleedcalories
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chronicbeans · 1 year
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I'm really forgetful and can't remember if I already requested this but I feel like a really silly idea would be puppeteer reader waking up one day and they look next to them and wally is just straight up somehow a human 😭 like I feel like wally would be really weirded out and reader would kinda have to teach him how to act human and natural sobs
I think you did, but I lost it so it is okay! I'm going to base his human appearance off of the version I saw from Clown's Pokemon AU.
Suddenly Human Wally with a Puppeteer Reader
🎥 You wake up one morning, a sudden feeling of "something is wrong wait-" taking over you. First of all, the pupper you were holding as you slept is suddenly much heavier. Your arm is falling asleep... Second of all, you feel some warm air hitting your face. Wally doesn't breathe... He's a puppet.
🎥 You open your eyes, only to help when you see an odd man in your arms! His eyes shoot open, before he sits up and asks "What's wrong, my puppeteer?! Wait... Why is everything a bit smaller?"
🎥 The man has a tan/dark complexion, with a similar blue pompadour to Wally's. He's also wearing the same clothes as Wally, too. You watch as he looks down at his hands, before he gets up and stands. He then waves his arms in a panic as he cries out "Help! (Y/N), something is wrong! I'm supposed to be a puppet, not like you!" So this IS Wally?
🎥 You bring him downstairs for breakfast, only to be a bit confused at how calm Angela and Henry are. They seem to instantly recognize that the man is Wally. He sits at the table, looking around, before he starts glaring at his food. You watch him closely as you take a bit, before remembering that, as a puppet, Wally just ate with his eyes. You whisper to him "Wally... you do know that you probably have to use your mouth to eat, now, right?"
🎥 He looks a bit confused, before trying to copy what you do. He puts the food in his mouth, chews, then... just, leaves it there. He asks "Why isn't it disappearing?" with a full mouth of food, causing you to cringe and say "Swallow, Wally. You need to swallow. Think about like... swallowing from being nervous. Like when Sally told you to play the princess in that one play." His eyes widen, before he nods, then swallows.
🎥 He suddenly tenses, slamming his hands on the table, his eyes staring blankly at the wall. It's almost like a thousand yards stare, or as though his life was flashing before his eyes. After a few seconds, he returns to normal, before saying "Wow! That felt weird!" in the most chipper tone you have heard from him.
🎥 Teaching Wally about being human is going to be a rollercoaster of emotions, isn't it?
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joelswritingmistress · 5 months
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You Scare Me, Professor: Chapter 19
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Summary: The reader is taking graduate classes at a local university in the wooded upstate New York. She is drawn to her professor, Dr. Joel Miller, though she is also inherently aware that he has something dark about him that she can't quite put her finger on. As the reader's attraction grows deeper, she has to decide whether to endure the danger or run away as fast as possible. 
Pairing: Professor Joel Miller x f!reader 
Dr. Miller didn’t open up anymore about his past. It almost felt like he regretted telling me about the incident with his sister by the time we reached his home. We ate together at the kitchen island, but we mostly just sat in silence. The oversized space with a giant elephant in the room made things feel quite the opposite than they had in recent days.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I finally asked when Dr. Miller stared blankly toward the refrigerator.
“Not particularly.” He didn’t look over.
I hesitated before talking again. “If you regret telling me, it’s okay.”
“I don’t.” Dr. Miller finally glanced at me. “I don’t.. It’s just.. I just threw a lot on your plate by telling you that.”
I shook my head. “No, you didn’t. I think you just got a lot off yours - and that’s a good thing.”
He lazily forked the food on his plate again and ate a bite before sliding off the barstool. Dr. Miller rounded the island and opened a small cabinet above the fridge to retrieve a bottle of bourbon. He poured himself a small helping, wasting no time in swigging it down and gritting his teeth from the burn of the warm whiskey.
When he turned to put the glass in the sink, I tiptoed my way toward him and put my arms around him from behind. My eyes closed as I rested my head against his back and I felt his body relax. Dr. Miller let out a deep sigh.
“You’re the good guy,” I reminded him, hoping my words were even a little bit impactful. “Carol is lucky to have you.”
He turned and unlatched from his body and stepped back to look up at him. With ease and unpredictability, Dr. Miller scooped me up off the ground and sat me on the kitchen counter. We were face-to-face now and he stared at me from just a few inches away.
“It doesn’t bother you that I’ve killed someone?” He asked.
I stared back into those eyes. They had transformed from puppy dog to wolf in an instant. It was an odd comparison, I knew that, but it’s all I could think of. When Dr. Miller placed both of his hands on the marble countertop either side of me, I let out a deep exhale that I didn’t realize I had been holding in. 
“No.” I shook my head.
“Why?” The one-word question came out just slightly edgy. His eyes squinted and he subconsciously moved an inch closer as he spoke.
“It’s heavy,” I admitted, “Very heavy.” My eyes never left his and I placed a hand on his cheek, contrasting the intensity that radiated from him. It seemed to disarm him just a little. “But, no, it doesn’t bother me. The only thing that bothers me is that you have to live with it. You have to live with a man assaulting your sister, you have to live with defending her and it resulting in some man’s death.” I corrected myself, “Excuse me, some asshole’s death.”
Dr. Miller’s eyes moved back and forth. The book reading. The human lie detector.
“How could I judge you for something like that?” I asked, shaking my head.
When his eyes softened just a bit I was thankful. Dr. Miller looked down and back up. He then leaned in and kissed me. I rested my hands on his face and felt his move to my waist.
He parted from me and then pecked my lips once more. “Thank you.”
I snaked my arms around him and slowly pulled him against me for a hug. We stayed like that for a long moment before he picked me up with ease. Prior to Dr. Miller I had never had a man pick me up. Each time he did that my stomach danced with butterflies.
I sighed and then managed a little smile. “Take me upstairs.” I was hooked on him and both of us were brewing with emotion. I didn't want the moment to go to waste.
Dr. Miller’s hands squeezed my buttocks as I sat in his hands with my legs wrapped around him. “I make the rules,” he reminded me, finally with a playful squint in his eyes and a little smirk tipping the corner of his lips.
“You're right,” I agreed. My eyes were locked with his. “What are you going to do to me?”
Dr. Miller couldn't keep his smile from expanding. “I'm going to take you upstairs.”
I let out a little chuckle and our lips collided again. Finally, the tension broke and we managed to salvage the better half of the evening.
By the time Tuesday night’s class rolled around, things felt as if they were back to normal - as normal as it could be for us. Dr. Miller was back to using his charming delivery to woo the crowd of twenty-somethings. As much as I was truly engaged in the subject matter, I suddenly felt totally removed from the rest of the group; like I didn't belong.
It wasn't a bad feeling. None of my classmates were actual friends of mine, or even acquaintances. Somehow it just felt surreal to walk into that oversized classroom and sit in the crowd as if Dr. Miller meant nothing to me, when in reality I was caught up in this forbidden,  whirlwind romance - one where he had just confessed, perhaps, his darkest secret. Perhaps.
For the better half of fifteen minutes I found myself daydreaming as I watched him draw laughs from the crowd, wave his hands with genuine enthusiasm as he spoke and create thought-provoking conversations from his students. When I realized I must’ve looked like a young girl at some boy band concert, I adjusted the way I sat in my chair and cleared my throat.
Class ended with Dr. Miller assigning a short paper that was due by the end of the week. “I’ll begin grading them next Monday,” he explained, “So, you’ll have the rest of this week and the weekend.” When no one commented he put his hands to the sides and said in purposely-cliche fashion, “Class dismissed.”
I smiled to myself when his eyes landed directly on me as I took my time packing up my backpack. At the same time I caught a glimpse of Trevor from my peripheral vision. He watched as I lazily shoved my notebook down into the bowels of my bag and only turned away when I glanced purposefully in his direction.
For the first time I felt a twinge of discomfort. Did Trevor have an inclination that something was going on between Dr. Miller and I; or was he simply jealous that I was getting some of the attention from our professor that he craved? There’s no doubt in my mind that Trevor was the, ‘I’m the smartest guy in the room’ type; a teacher’s pet on steroids.
My phone vibrated in my pocket and I looked away from my annoying classmate to glance at the text that had come in. Dr. Miller. I smiled to myself.
Take a left out of the classroom, go out the back door and get in the car, the text read.
I glanced up at him and smiled when he was staring directly at me. With a little nod, he smirked and looked down as he gathered his laptop and things from on top of the desk.
Trevor and I took parallel staircases down to the bottom floor and I didn’t linger like I typically did once the class had emptied out. The last thing I wanted was for him to start putting the pieces together. My eyes briefly met Dr. Miller’s as I passed by. 
“Bye Trevor.” I glanced over my shoulder as I crossed out of the classroom, catching my professor’s eye again as I disappeared off to the left.
Before I reached the back door I saw Trevor and two remaining students exit the classroom. He looked around the otherwise empty hallway as if he was searching for something; and then he turned around completely and did a double-take when he noticed me by the back door.
Shit. I should have just gone outside, I thought.
When I waved to him, he quickly turned around with his thumbs tucked beneath the straps of his bag and power walked in the opposite direction. I continued my walk out the back door, being met by a smaller parking lot near a manmade pond in the center of campus. It was desolate and dark and would have freaked me out if the Mercedes headlights weren’t willing me to safety. The logo shimmered in the center of the vehicle, greeting me with a friendly hello.
I took a deep breath, glancing around in all directions and pulled my hood up as I walked the semi-snowy walkway down to Dr. Miller’s car. I guessed he had an automatic starter but I was a bit surprised that it could reach from the classroom. When I opened the passenger door, a warmth overtook the chill that had crept inside my body on the short walk outside.
Out of habit, I closed the door and locked it as I sat waiting in the darkness. One minute went by. Two. Three.
I glanced at my phone every thirty seconds or so and on minute six I almost texted Dr. Miller, though he emerged from the giant steel door in the back of the building. My body relaxed and I watched his dark silhouette slink down the same walkway. I watched him all the way up until the back door behind me clicked open and I turned to face him.
The light inside the vehicle didn’t click on. I could barely make out his features. When the door slammed I swallowed hard.
“Dr. Miller?” I had to confirm that it was actually him, though I was certain it was.
All at once, the four locks clicked shut with a collective snap.
“Come here.” His voice was indistinguishable. I would know that voice anywhere. It left the hairs standing up on the back of my neck.
“Yes, Dr. Miller.” I knew that was what he wanted to hear as I climbed into the back seat. Much to my surprise, and satisfaction, his hard cock was already out of his pants. I only knew this in the dark because he guided my hand into his lap. At the same time he was pulling me onto my knees beside him to kiss me.
“It’s been almost twenty-four hours since I’ve fucked you,” he said in a voice just above a whisper, “That’s too fuckin’ long.”
I kissed him hard, making out with him as he groaned into my mouth as I stroked his length in my palm from bottom to top and back down again.
“I don’t have it in me to wait until we get home,” Dr. Miller choked out as he kissed down my neck before roughly catching my earlobe between his teeth. “It’s torture seeing you sitting there in class knowing I can’t ravage you.”
I moaned when his hands slid down past my waist, yanking down the leggings I had on beneath an oversized sweatshirt. I let my Ugg fall off one foot and freed my left leg from my pants. Dr. Miller pulled me onto his lap, eagerly forcing me down onto his greedy, impatient cock. He didn’t wait for me to create the pace as he had in the past. Dr. Miller thrusted his hips up, slamming into me with a force that made me moan without warning.
“Fuuck.” I whined and gripped the leather seat behind where he sat.
Dr. Miller held my hips firmly in place and completely dominated the pace from beneath me. When another set of headlights entered the lot, I looked over my shoulder and slunk down.
“Someone else is here,” I whispered, as if they could hear me.
He gently used two fingers to turn my head back around to face him. “Ride my dick, honey.”
Fuck. It was like checkmate all over again; although I wasn't losing. I was just submitting. Submitting myself completely and fully to him. The car pulled in a few spaces away from the two of us and we both glanced over, just for a second, when another professor exited the vehicle and began walking up toward the building.
Dr. Miller quickly pulled my face back to his, roughly this time, and we made out hard as I moved on top of him. I could tell he enjoyed the thrill of being so close to getting caught like this. It aroused me, too.  “Ughhh…” He broke the kiss to moan and he gripped my bare hips as he cursed and panted, pushing deeper inside of me. I suddenly felt a familiar warmth between my legs and Dr. Miller’s head fell back against the seat.
I looked down, smirking slightly, at how fast he came.
“Oh, fuck, sorry.” He breathed the words out and grinned beneath half-open eyes.
I giggled and touched my forehead to his before pecking his lips. “I love seeing you so worked up.”
“I owe you one.” He pulled me in for a hard closed-mouth kiss. 
“Mmm.”
We parted and I hopped off him, leaving a mess between us that coated the front of his dark gray work pants. Dr. Miller tucked himself back into his pants. He reached into the breast pocket of his white, button-down shirt and pulled out a handkerchief.
I glanced down as he wiped my inner thighs and made eye-contact with me for a second before slipping the white cloth into my hand so I could do the rest. Dr. Miller eyed my every move and then took the handkerchief back. He looked me in the eye when he folded it neatly and stuffed it back into his pocket. Why something like that turned me on, I will never know. But it did.
Dr. Miller smirked at my awestruck reaction and he touched my face and let his thumb dance in circles around my cheek. “I’ll take care of you when we get home,” he promised.
“Okay.” My eyes closed when he kissed me again.
“Hop into the front seat.”
I nodded and kissed him again before doing as he instructed. At the same time, Dr. Miller opened the back door and reentered the car through the driver’s side. When he slunk back into the car beside me, his hand found mine. I loved the way he treated me after ravaging my body.
“Are we together?” I suddenly asked. I had to know. We had never clearly created a label. Not that labels were particularly important, but I decided in this case I needed a concrete answer. When Dr. Miller turned toward me, I glanced down at our interlocked hands.
He waited for me to look back at him before responding. “Yes.”
“Exclusively?”
Dr. Miller nodded. “If that’s what you want.”
“I do,” and then added, “Do you?”
He grinned and leaned across to kiss me. “Yes.”
I smiled wide and put my feet on the dashboard as he put the car in drive. Dr. Miller chuckled at my outward elated mannerisms. He brought the back of my hand to his lips and cruised the vehicle out of the small, dark parking lot.
When I glanced out the tinted window, I saw Trevor standing there in the shadows. He hugged a laptop to his chest and adjusted his glasses as if to see better. His presence made me slink down further into the seat. What the fuck was he doing? And more importantly, did he see us?
CLICK HERE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER
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shisui-shrine · 2 months
Text
Shisui X F!Reader
Confession
Part 1 (a reference is made, but you can read this without Part 1)
TW: Some light injuries but nothing graphic, small mention of blood
Shisui is going to need some sort of trigger to confess his feelings to you, wether that be jealousy, the realisation he doesn't want to live without you, or even fear for your life
He can't confess like a normal human, he'll overthink it and then chicken out last minute
Sometimes a spontaneous guy, but NOT with this
He'll plan out every single detail, multiple ways depending on your reaction and even try to predict what you'll say
He'll ask Itachi for help, though he wouldn't be able to give any meaningful advice
His best tip would be the most basic thing, like: Be yourself
His help is appreciated, but useless
So Shisui decides to simply confess when you come back from your mission in two days
He pickd your favourite flowers, thinking the effort he's putting in will be more romantic than simply paying for them
He also buys your favourite snack "Love goes through the stomach", he thinks as he pays for them
He waits for you by the gate... but your team doesn't arrive, even though it was foretold that today was the day of your return
He does get a little worried, but also knows that last minute complications are rather common
He puts the flowers in water and the snack in the fridge and goes to sleep
She'll be fine, she's a really strong shinobi after all
But those horrid thoughts still plagued his mind
When you arrived the next day, limping a little and leaning over he immediately stormed to your side
"Y/N?! You're hurt. Let me help you"
You smile at him and thank him, as he carries you to the hospital
"Thank you for your help, Shisui. I really appreciate it."
Shisui looks up from the orange he was cutting for you, meeting your eyes halfway. His hands have finally stopped shaking ever since he saw you arrive, covered in blood, your clothing ripped and your body clearly bruised.
"Please be more careful in the future", Shisui mumbles under his breath, eyes fixated back on the orangey. He places the orange slices on a plate and grabs an apple, cutting and peeling it.
"Is everything alright?", you ask, noticing how he seems awfully quiet today and much less smiley. An odd thing for a usually such optimistic guy.
His first thought is to shake your worries off, saying he simply had a bad morning because he ran out of coffee beans, but then he remembered his promise. The day before you left he promised to never lie about his emotions to you, to always tell you his worries, so he changes his mind last moment and decides to be honest.
"No, nothing is alright. I thought I lost you, the doctor said you have some broken bones and even internal bleedings."
He smashed the cut apple pieces onto the plate and threw his arms around your shoulder and neck.
"I was so worried about you, because Y/N... because I love you. I love you more than anything"
A little shocked by his confession you simply wrap your arms around him as well, patting his back gently.
"Thank you for telling me your worries, I know this must have been hard for you. And about your confession... I feel the same"
Shisui quickly pulls away from you, keeping his hands on your shoulders, a happy smile on his handsome face.
"I love you too, Shisui", you press a gentle kiss to his forehead.
He giggles and presses a soft kiss to your lips, humming as he closes his eyes in enjoyment.
"So, will you give me the honour of becoming my girlfriend?", he mumbles with his lips barely a few millimetres away from yours.
"I'd love to", you whisper back, placing a hand on the back of his neck and closing the gap between your lips.
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blueskyscribe · 9 months
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The reason the third set of Earthspark episodes were such a disappointment to me was that I expected all the plot threads from the previous two thirds of the show to interweave and instead a lot of them were just dropped.
Like why did Optimus need to keep Bumblebee's existence a secret? Why did GHOST think he was dead? And what consequences did Optimus face once GHOST found out Bee was alive? Seemingly none. Optimus showed up so little in the second batch of episodes that I kind of thought they'd retaliated against him and imprisoned or brainwashed him but nah, he's fine and it's never explained why Bumblebee had to fake his own death.
What was the Cybertronians' war initially about? It is unbelievable to me that this wasn't explored. First, it's interesting! Second, it would give us insight into the motivations of the Decepticon ensemble.
The show is a sort of a "what if" AU based on G1, and in G1 the Decepticons were warmongers who wanted to rule the galaxy and enslave everyone. However, if you've read MTMTE you might notice Megatron chiding Shockwave for dismissing the Terrans as "lower class beings" and conclude that the war was about classism. But ultimately the viewer shouldn't have to fill in the blanks from other media. Earthspark should address this within its own show, because the question "Can the Decepticons be trusted, can they be redeemed?" can't be answered without it. Like, if the Decepticons were just The Evil Bad Guys then it wouldn't matter, but if you want them to end up freely walking the Earth then it's extremely important to know if the average 'Con's motivation for joining the army was "I'm standing up for my civil rights" versus "y'know, I just love killing people." Especially since, unlike the easy-breezy G1 cartoon, in Earthspark the TF war resulted in human injuries and deaths.
Shockwave and Soundwave's complicated feelings about Megatron never get resolved or even addressed outside their solo episodes. Which is very odd in a series that put such an emphasis on working out emotional strife, what with the cyber-sleeves and all. In the finale the Decepticons team up with the Autobots and Terrans because Mandroid wants to destroy all robot life: a purely physical threat. And that was a cool fight. But it doesn't resolve any of the emotional baggage. This disappointed me because the emotional fallout of Megatron's side-switch was the most interesting part of the show imo.
Then there was the Starscream episode, which felt like the "Dear Princess Celestia" moral in the last two minutes of a MLP FIM episode without showing how the conflict played out in the previous twenty minutes.
Earthspark got renewed for a second season. (And I'm glad! It has a lot of potential, that's why I was pumped during the first two-thirds!) But they thought they might only get one season, and if that was the case they would have left us with all these dead ends.
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Finding character motivations for everything Talia Al Ghul does and says in Lost Days
People say she was manipulating Jason to be more violent but like... was she?? Why would she be doing that??? She spends years trying to heal him for Bruce and then tries to make him more violent towards Bruce because... ????????
I've read Lost Days a fair few times and it never felt like she was being cruel or manipulative and this has confused the fuck out of me for a long time. Since I'm going to be writing her into my Jason centric fic pretty soon, I figured it would be good to go back to Lost Days and really focus in on her and her character motivations.
This is a post because I do my best thinking through the act of writing essays, and figured someone out there might also be interested.
tl;dr In the text as written Talia does her level best to guide Jason to become a Hero again out of genuine compassion. It is her explicit goal to make Jason less vengeful, less violent, and more like the hero he was before he died. She is not predatory towards him, and the only times she works in ways that could be damaging to him are when she feels her own safety is threatened by him. Talia is depicted as a good but flawed person shaped by the trauma Ra's and the League has put her through.
So yeah, wildly over detailed analysis of everything Talia does and says during Lost Days under the cut:
Scene one: Ra's and Talia yelling dramatically on a lawn right after Talia uses a Lazarus Pit on Jason.
Her stated justification for doing so is "I did--what--needed to be done" (em dashes for choking). Considering she risked a LOT to do this, I figure she's probably telling the truth. She believed this was necessary.
Then we flash back to her first learning about Jason's death. She posits that his death will essentially break Bruce.
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In the panels directly after this she's shown looking at a picture of Jason and Bruce, face in hands, clearly upset. Probably primarily for Bruce, but like idk she's an empathic human I feel like it's safe to say she's upset for the kid who died too, especially since the picture centers Jason prominently, with focus/close-up panels on both Bruce and Jason, with Jason's scanning first.
Then we have the sequence of her learning that Jason is still alive, through her agents who have been instructed to keep a very close eye on Bruce.
Her first big decision is to bring him to her Father. She doesn't make any attempt to hide him, so it's either a good idea to her or a necessary one. Ra's obviously wants to figure out how he managed to cheat death, and it seems likely to me, given that she's loyal to him, that she'd also want to do so. She doesn't seem to want him dead, even if she's at odds with him pretty much the whole time to one degree or another.
Then we get her investigating Jason's ressurection and the doctor she's got telling her about his brain damage and the Doc claims he's not getting better
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We're just gonna breeze on passed that autistic affect weirdness...
She disagrees.
This is the third time now that Talia has had faith in the humanity and emotional capacity of people the rest of the League write off as being capable of nothing but violence. Considering she's been right the other times it stands to reason that she's right about this too. It also says a lot about her character that this is something she's repeatedly done.
She attempts to prove he's getting better by slapping Jason across the face, declaring, "He never fights back when it's me! Explain that! Never when it's me!"
This strongly suggests that she must treat him differently than the rest of the league, specifically that she treats him with more kindness and more attention. He recognizes her as someone safe, who he doesn't need to fight.
This is further backed up by the next page
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Ra's then decides that all this has been a complete waste of time and demands that Jason be put out to pasture so he can't distract Talia from her work for the League.
During this argument Ra's posits that she thinks handing over a healed Jason would make Bruce love her, but that doesn't seem to be the case. I think Ra's is misreading her, in exactly the same way all of the League has been misreading everyone all issue: he's failing to understand that people are capable of actual love and compassion. He's interpreting her acts of kindness and love as something manipulative and selfish. Maybe that's something she believes or hopes for on some level, but it's obviously not her "real" motive here like Ra's thinks.
This is what makes her decide that it's necessary to make one last attempt to heal him, and get him out somewhere safer than with the League. It's a desperate last ditch attempt, but she's a competent motherfucker.
The rest of the issue is narrated as a letter Talia sends off with him in the bag of supplies she gives him. In it she says that she had other reasons for attempting to save him.
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So, at the end of issue #1 we have three clear motives for why she healed Jason:
To heal Jason is to heal Bruce.
She has a basic sense of decency and wants to help a murdered kid recover. Jason healing is its own reward.
She wants to find out how Jason "survived" so that her Father might be able to replicate that for himself.
Healing Jason might bring her emotionally closer to Bruce.
ALL of these are based in love, and thus could qualify for what she meant in those last few lines of her letter. However, I think I want to emphasis that she almost certainly has to be including love for Jason himself, not just for what Jason represents to Bruce, though Bruce is still a huge focus for her.
And she didn't tell Bruce because Ra's might kill Jason. He doesn't want Batman to know he's alive, ever, and may very well kill Jason to keep that secret.
ON TO ISSUE #2
This is where it gets a lot harder to figure out why she's doing things.
Talia's first act is to refuse to tell Ra's where Jason is. Her second revealed act is that while tossing Jason into the ocean to help him escape she says this:
"Do not seek him out. You remain unavenged."
Third thing she does is check up on her loyal agents who tell her "We know where he's going You're not going to like it." This is immediately followed by the reveal that Jason is going to Gotham.
So uhhhh... Why doesn't Talia want him to go to Bruce now? Also, why does Talia think that being unavenged would mean Jason going to Bruce was a bad idea? Like how is the unavenged bit not a complete nonsequitor?
Cause the thing is, we the audience know what Jason is like in the future, Lost Days was written after UtRH, but Talia doesn't know Jason's personality, she's only met him while he was incapable of communication, so what reason does she have to assume this would impact him like this?
Hypothesis one: She knew about Felipe, thinks he killed him, and thus counts him as a killer of abusers, someone who would want revenge.
Seems pretty unlikely. There's absolutely nothing in the text to support this, it's completely made up conjecture. Also, she doesn't seem to think Jason is the type of person to do revenge all that harshly in later panels.
Hypothesis two: She's counting on the temporary adrenaline-rage-pain boost from the Pit to convince him to be mad about the whole unavenged thing.
Why tho? Like, for realsies, there's no reason for her to try to do this? If this is a plan to keep him away from Bruce, it's a dumb one, like why would that be her choice of strategy?? Also the letter contradicts this.
Hypothesis three: She believes it was wrong of Bruce not to avenge him, or at least thinks that most people would be incredibly angry to find they weren't avenged
Baring her just being fucking precognitive and knowing the future for no good reason, this seems like the most likely cause. Growing up in the League hasn't exactly given her a view of how healthy people handle their anger, and violent retaliation is a nigh daily obstacle for her to navigate. It means she told him that because she thought it was important and she probably always intended to tell him whenever he healed enough to understand it.
Hypothesis four: She assumed him finding out was inevitable, and wanted to do that in a controlled manner... uhhh... and the best controlled manner avaliable was... while flinging him off a cliff??? Instead of in the letter?????
Not buying this one.
We see Jason try to kill Bruce and then get him explaining himself to Talia.
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That's... that's not how sociopathic works I'm pretty sure... whateves...
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Talia seems to have believed there would have been a fight about the Joker, but not that Jason would have actually tried to kill him. Or at least not that Jason would have tried to really, truly kill him in such a cold, calculated way once all forms of Laz juice were out of his system.
So again, why the fuck was she preventing him and Bruce from meeting?! Would the Dark Knight not have survived a fist fight with an angry sixteen year old??
I don't get it. That's uhhhh- that doesn't make any sense to me. I guess she was just wary of how bad the confrontation might get, but not fully expecting this kind of rage? Maybe she was acting much more confident of her decisions in front of her father and was really worried about this outcome? I dunno, and that's all the evidence we've got!
And now we have a new problem! Why does Talia agree to help him?
She believes she's released a curse into this world. She believes that she has kickstarted a nasty cycle of violence spiral. She doesn't want to see Bruce hurt or killed by his kid.
So the only conclusion left is that she thinks she can better mitigate the damage by helping and misdirecting than she can by actually confronting Jason. Considering who she interacts with, that seems perfectly reasonable.
ON TO ISSUE #3
We get some proper answers here hopefully
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Our previous idea about why she was helping him was correct, this is an attempt to keep him less violent, steer him towards other things, and let his desire for revenge fizzle or find a different target.
She's not giving him over to Bruce because Bruce would never forgive her for having kept Jason from him... And also Jason will fucking kill Bruce.
Make special note here of the idea that sex is why she isn't beating the crap out of this guy. Put a pin in that. It'll be important later.
Back down at the murder ranch, Jason finishes killing his teacher and then explains himself
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I believe she's genuinely happy about this, because it is actually a step in the direction she wants him to take. He went from being completely obsessed with just killing the father who didn't avenge him, to saving a bunch of kids and delaying his own revenge goals to do it. The tin man IS growing a heart. Her plan is, miraculously, kinda working!
ON TO ISSUE #4
Further proof that her plan is working: Jason leaves Rip, the mercenary driver, alive. He's developing standards for who he is and isn't willing to kill, and those standards are evolving because he is being pushed outside his conflict with Bruce.
His treatment of the bomber's connection with the mob is further proof of this.
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That little smile and her gently nudging him towards the idea that he's picking "old habits" back up is very telling. She's guiding him back to the path of actually being a Hero. I think this is meant to imply that Talia is deliberately throwing scumbags towards him to not only distract him, but also to remind him of the heroism he did before he died and give him new purpose beyond mere violence towards Bruce.
And again, her plan is working! He's doing hero stuff!
Aaaaand now we have another curveball. Why show him Tim?
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Again, him finding out about this was probably inevitable. He seems more chill, the dark circles under his eyes are gone, I think she's hoping that while in the middle of a new investigation Jason will be in as good a place as she can find to tell him about this.
It's better than mid cliff dive, if nothing else.
Now, to head this off at the pass, because I've seen people assert this in other posts before: this is definitively, absolutely, 100% guaranteed, NOT WHEN TITANS TOWER HAPPENS. He hasn't even come up with using the red hood as a persona when she shows him this picture, so even if he let the extremely time sensitive bombing plot go for a day or two worth of private jetting to beat up the new guy, there's no way in HELL Tim would be able to recognize the Red Hood as Jason. Heck, Tim wouldn't even be with that set of Titans yet, the fucking HUSH plotline hasn't even happened yet!! Okay moving on...
ON TO ISSUE #5
Talia isn't in this one
Jason acts as a Hero. Tim man definitely has a heart.
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I really like this plotline tbh, it's just great.
He kills all but one of the Russian mobsters that come to kill him and then he runs out of ammo on the last, and that guy offers up the Joker's location in exchange for his life.
This is when the Tin Man relapses.
ON TO ISSUE #6
CONTENT WARNING FOR DISCUSSION OF CONSENT ISSUES
He hunts the Joker down and fails to kill him. I want to emphasis here, that failing to kill the Joker is a failure to adhere to the morals that Jason has established for himself, and a failure to keep being an anti-hero the way Talia was encouraging him to be.
This is not him being a good guy. This is him getting worse again. This is him failing to care about the world and things other than his own revenge.
Once again he explains himself to Talia, and reveals that he's known for a while now that she's been stalling him.
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And then they fuck, and Jason wakes up alone.
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So what just happened and why?
First of all I think the fact he KNEW he was being stalled combined with his heroism prior to the Joker being brought up strongly implies that Talia's plan would have kept working and that Jason would have kept letting it work, drawing him more and more into just being an anti-hero. He has a heart, he has morals, but his rage for Bruce and the Joker eclipses those morals pretty completely. Talia's plan was always to guide him away from revenge and it might have worked if he hadn't run out of ammo at the wrong time.
Secondly, Talia has just been given a bunch of reasons to feel threatened. Her plot was revealed, and Jason no longer has reason to believe that she isn't an obstacle to his goals.
Considering the sheer amount of violence that Talia regularly narrowly escapes only through manipulation and leveraging men's emotions, it seems pretty reasonable to me that she'd assume she needed to do both those things in order to protect herself.
She tells Jason about Ra's death, claiming that she's angry with Bruce for that. I don't know if this is the truth, but it would serve this purpose either way. She's giving him reasons to believe she's still on his side. Then she gets emotional leverage on him by sleeping with him. Take that pin out of the fact that she didn't beat that other guy for talking out of turn to her because she was fucking him. Then she escapes while he's asleep and only contacts him again from afar.
She does both of these things because she is afraid that a freshly refocused on vengeance Jason will hurt or kill her if she doesn't. After all, she herself is a killer. Jason might just decide it's her turn to join his other teachers.
The scene of them sleeping together isn't framed as traumatic for Jason; he seems to be perfectly willing.
There two very important questions that need answered before we cast judgments though: Is Jason still a minor when this happens? How old is Talia in comparison to Jason?
The only indication of timeline that we have is that it takes place JUST prior to Hush, as the story ends with Jason meeting Tomas Elliot. According to the Batman Chronology Project, Tim should be 16 during the events of Hush. We know Jason is about two years older than Tim, making him 18 during this scene.
According to Dennis O'Neil "I’m pretty sure that Talia is still a young woman – young by our standards, not just her father’s." According to some random fucker on an ancient comicvine forum going by the handle "brock4618", O'Neil said in a different interview that she was 18 when Bruce kissed her and is about Dick's age, not Bruce's age. I can't find O'Neil saying that, but it does line up with the quote we know is real.
So this was a case of an extremely traumatized 18 year old boy agreeing to sleep with a woman in her twenties after he accidentally made her feel that she needed to use sex and emotional manipulation to protect herself from his possible violent retaliation.
This is still a deeply unpleasant situation, but it's so much better than the initial impression that I got!
CONCLUSIONS TIME
Talia healed Jason because
She's a kind and loving person, and was especially kind and loving when she was younger. She wants to help Bruce, she wants to help Jason, and she wants to help her father. She did it for love.
Talia kept Jason's existence a secret from Bruce because
Her father demanded she keep it a secret, then she was afraid Bruce would hate her for it, and by the time she ought to be warning Bruce about Jason, well he was a scary motherfucker and she was in too deep.
Is Talia portrayed as a sexually predatory monster?
No. A woman using sex to escape violence is not predatory; I will fucking fight you. That whole scenario was bad, but acting like she's evil for this doesn't pan out unless you disagree with some of the facts of the case. It also really doesn't feel like Winick intended for the audience to assume this was predatory. Jason never seems uncomfortable with the fact it happened, and he even gives Jason a bit of beard scruff to help convey that he's older now. (it uh... it didn't work. Because I thought Talia was like 52 at minimum. Also just the timeline. But that was the intent I feel)
Is Talia attempting to make Jason more vengeful?
No. Exact opposite actually, every lie and manipulation is in service of preventing him from going on his vengeance quest, guiding him to be a better person, and protecting herself and others.
As a side note: I haven't touched the potential misogyny or racism angles, because that's simply beyond the scope of this analysis. I don't have the time, energy, or resources to dig into this myself, you'll have to find a different post for that angle, sorry.
So... yeah. That's my findings, I hope at least one other person finds this useful!
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darkdevasofdestruction · 10 months
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Hi there please could i get some relationship headcanons for Thor! Thanks you so much!!
Let's see what we can do~
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⚡Thor is generally a quiet and apathetic person, caring mostly about fighting only and putting everything else on a second place.
⚡Still, he's not ignorant to the happiness that you bring him simply by being in his presence.
⚡Only around you, can he feel fully at ease and calm.
⚡Keeping his head on your lap, playing with his hair while you hum a lullaby or read him a book is one of the few things that can offer him bliss.
⚡He loves holding you in his arms - You're so small compared to him, he can't help but feel the burning need to protect you from any kind of harm.
⚡Though, realistically speaking, there is little harm that could reach you, considering nobody would be dumb enough to even think about attacking you, let alone do such a thing.
⚡He doesn't care much about Odin's opinion, but he's rather pleased when he mentions approving of you - Not that he'd change him opinion if he disapproved, but he might have started a war with his own father.
⚡Since he's so tall, he ends up putting you on his shoulders often, so you can see things from above - The horizon during twilight especially is a most beautiful sight to witness.
⚡He appreciates the sky during all phases of the day, and would like to lay on the grass next to you and just relax, watching the clouds pass by, or pointing out constellations at night.
⚡You're the only person he allows to touch his hair, and even braid and put flowers in it - He'd rather not have other people see him, but if they do and comment something that might upset you, well... They're dead. He'd prefer to avoid the erasure of a whole pantheon though. He doesn't much like to subject you to too much bloodshed.
⚡He wants to make sure you live a happy, fulfilling and peaceful life.
⚡That's also why he hardly ever argues with you - He'd rather remain silent or agree with you, rather than confront you about something. Usually, there's barely anything worthy of fighting over, so he diverts the subject or just does whatever he wants regardless.
⚡But when he votes against mankind, and he sees you bursting into sobs, getting out of the council, he feels upset that he spurred such emotions in you, when he only ever wants to make you smile.
⚡He explains that he holds nothing against humans and just wants to see if humanity has any warrior worth fighting, but it doesn't console you at all - His whims might destroy billions of innocent lives.
⚡He just sighs, not sure how to deal with this situation, and leaves, hoping you would calm down on your own.
⚡Thor never expected to be challenged so such a degree, let alone injured, by a mere human - No, a friend, Lu Bu, the most powerful warrior that China ever had. After their fight, Thor had such respect for him and his allies, that he decided that, whichever side wins, he would impose the safety of humanity, in his honour.
⚡As he exited the arena, he feels two tiny arms holding him in a weak embrace, and you crying in his chest, telling him how worried you were about him and what not.
⚡He was moved that you still loved him so much, even despite his contrary decision during the voting, and he knelt to your level, pulling you in a strong hug and kissing your forehead, reassuring you that he'd fight all the Gods to honour the man he just fought.
⚡He wasn't one of the Norse protectors of Mankind for nothing.
⚡Though seeing you cry, especially because of him, only reinforced the idea that he never wants to see you upset or in distress ever again. You are far too precious for him.
⚡Kisses with Thor are mostly gentle, because he's so strong that he fears hurting you, even though you're a Goddess like him. He's so used to destroying everything in a single touch, that being tender is a bit odd for him.
⚡He gets used to it quickly though, and he likes it.
⚡But more than that, he loves your soft hands caressing his face so lovingly, and how you managed to steal quick pecks from him. It was adorable.
⚡You're probably the only person to whom he would engage in small talk, or would tell random stories about his past, his fights and whatever other things he finds worth sharing.
⚡And though speaking of his feelings is not a subject he cares about, you may be able to occasionally hear him say a whispery confession, when he's sure you're asleep in his arms.
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